The stick turned the tunnel a deep shade of indigo. It was just enough light for me to see. I continued on my route and then took a right into the next tunnel, though something didn’t seem right. It felt like I was descending again.
After another five yards or so, I hit water, a puddle that went up to my ankles. I forged through, but the puddle continued onward, and soon the water was up to my thighs, and the tunnel seemed larger. Holding up the glow stick, I saw that the ceiling was maybe fifteen feet or so above me and the walls farther apart.
My leg brushed up against something that made me scream. The water was now up to my waist. I pushed up against the tunnel wall, and my movement in the water caused whatever it was to float up to the surface.
Extending my arm in that direction, and, with a shaking hand, I held the glow stick over the dark mass that had floated to the surface.
It was Gretchen. Her glossy eyes stared up at the ceiling, her long, dark hair wet and flat against her face and neck. Her insides had been gutted.
My breathing became shaky and labored, my eyes wide with horror as I saw her hand. The nail was broken off of her index finger.
The glow from the creature’s torch suddenly appeared around the corner. It saw me and groaned, charging after me.
I pushed through the water, going deeper and deeper until I was up to my chin. I tucked the glow stick into my pocket and swam for it, hearing the beast trudging through the water behind me. The tunnel was more of a cavern now, and it felt like I was swimming in an underground lake.
From the light of the torch, I saw an end to the water up ahead, at the entrance to another tunnel. The creature was gaining on me.
As I neared the other tunnel, I found that I could stand up again in the water. Breathless, I forced through until the water was up to my thighs again. I tried to run. It was coming closer, and I could once again smell its putrid earth scent.
My foot got stuck in the mud, and I fell forward. I pulled out my foot, but my other foot got stuck when I used it as leverage. It became a frantic cycle of trying to break free of the sludge, and the creature was almost on top of me now.
I struggled to roll onto my back and then pulled out my knife. I held it in front of me just as the beast swiped at me. I sliced its palm, and it pulled back with a roar, leaving sickening brown slime on my blade. It wielded its torch at me, burning my hand. I screamed, dropping the knife.
And now it stood before me, about to pounce. I let my panic take over me for only a moment, and then I closed my eyes, bringing forth all the power within me. I concentrated on whatever life force the beast had. I felt the coldness enter my bones as I took its energy into me. It was different, though. The colors around me grew dimmer instead of brighter. I didn’t feel a rise of power, but started to feel … dead.
Death seemed to enter my body. It coaxed me, making it seem like that was my ultimate reason for living—to die, to forever reign in this asylum of death. I started to crave it, to want no more life, and oh God, it was so cold … and I loved it, needed it.
Clothilde … The thought of saving her was the only warmth in my heart. It was a dim flame, but I reached for it with everything I had. I thought only of her, how I wasn’t ready for her to leave this world, how Lyla and I both needed her. The flame inside me grew, and as it did, the monster melted away. Soon, it was just a puddle to add to the sludge. Near it was the torch and a small mass covered in mud. I picked it up, wiping it. It was a human heart.
As more life came back into my body, I was able to check the map and, using the torch, find my way out of the tunnels. At the entrance of the cave, I doused the torch, afraid that it would catch the vines on fire. It was dark now, so I had to use the moon to make my way back through the thicket I had cut earlier.
Before I could make it to the car, something grabbed me from behind. I screamed and realized I was leaving the ground. Ridge had me in his arms.
14
The Illusion
Being flown high above the lights of Paris sounds like a romantic adventure, but I was terrified beyond belief. All Ridge had to do was drop me. I clung to his neck with my eyes shut tightly, too scared to open my mouth to ask him what was going on. He landed on Danielle’s balcony and set me down on my feet.
“Why are you doing this?!” I yelled at him once I felt steady again.
“Danielle needed to see you right away. And we don’t have time to argue.” He gestured toward Danielle’s room, and for the first time, I saw anguish in his eyes. “She called to me in my mind when I was out helping the others. She said I needed to bring you here.”
I entered her room. It was depressingly bathed in cold moonlight. Danielle’s eyes followed me from her bed. Her breathing was labored, and she was sweating. My heart broke for this poor girl, and I was outraged that Charmagne wasn’t here with her. I set down my bag and sat at the edge of her bed.
“I’m sorry,” she managed to say in a raspy voice. “I asked Ridge to go and get you. It was faster that way.”
I reached for her hand, to hold it, but she pulled away. “No,” she said. “I can’t risk you healing me.”
“Oh, honey, your mom said that you can’t be healed.”
“She’s not my mother.”
“What? How is she not—?”
“I …” She stopped to take a deep, harsh breath. “I have to show you.”
“Show me? Show me wh—?”
I was jolted from reality just then. There was darkness at first, but then a quick flash of a single image: Nadia, as I had known her, joy in her eyes, laughing at something I could not see. The image went dark again. I heard Danielle’s voice in French.
“Mother, do I have a sister?”
Slowly, the darkness dissipated, and there was a different setting before me, a different time of day. Disoriented at first, I closed my eyes and opened them, expecting to see Danielle’s room again, but I found myself still in this new place.
I was in an open-air market in Paris. Charmagne was in front of me, clutching a bouquet of flowers to her chest, staring at Danielle. Her eyes flitted with fear for a second, but she quickly recovered, putting on a fake smile and laughing at her daughter’s question. “A sister? I think we would know if you had a sister! Why on Earth would you ask something like that?”
“I just … I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
The scene shifted, turning to a collage of dreams that I had since moving back to Louisiana: dreams of Walter Savoy; my mother in his cabin, pointing to a picture; my mother pointing at the city of New Orleans; phone calls in my sleep as someone from very far away tried to warn me about masks and tell me I had to go to Paris. And it was here that I realized that voice was Danielle’s; she had been calling me in my dreams.
And now the dreams were from Jonathan’s point of view, terrified of the Dark Man who was trying to kill Lyla; Noah, seeing his mother attacked by the Watcher; Miles getting that mysterious call from Danielle in his dream.
The scene changed.
I found myself reliving one of the most horrific experiences I had ever had. I was back in New Orleans, in the sculpture garden in City Park, running through the rain with Nadia. But this time, I saw what happened after the nephil with the silver eyes knocked me out.
Nadia was being dragged into the thicket of shadows near the lagoon. He climbed on top of her, clawing at her, biting her and—oh God, her screams, her screams were unbearable.
Just as I felt myself crying, the scene shifted again.
I was near the Garden of Hecate where Felix and I encountered the coven. It looked to be early evening; the sun had already set, and the light was gray and cold. Charmagne stood near the older blonde witch, the one who unleashed the demons upon us.
“I should take you at your word?” said the witch and laughed. “You must think I am foolish. We know what your intentions are and that you need both the grimoire and the Heart. The Book of Avelina is rightfully ours as the heirs of Anseis, and here it will stay, out of your hands
and out of the hands of your angels.”
Charmagne’s eyes turned cold. “I gave you that book on the condition you would help me when the time came.”
“And I did. I gathered the blood from the little girl so that you could have your answers. That was your one favor.”
“You know that wasn’t it! The condition was to help me with the Heart when—”
“Yes, when! You will never find it. I cannot wait that long, and neither can my coven. The book stays with us. And do not bother us again.”
Charmagne stewed in silence for a moment. “It’s a shame, Eloise. We could have so much power together.”
Eloise laughed again. “How can you be powerful if you let your angel rule you? We make our own power. Now be gone with you! Do not show your face here again!”
The scene shifted once more.
Danielle’s bedroom was filled with sunlight, small dust particles dancing in the beams coming from the window.
“You have to promise,” she said. I turned around to see her on her bed, looking healthier, but still sickly. Ridge was by her side, kneeling on the floor. His eyes showed deep concern for her. They spoke in hushed voices.
“But if they can make you better—”
“No. She made me do all these horrible things.” She was on the verge of tears. “I can’t come back from that.”
“There has to be a way.”
“There is. If I give my life for someone, my soul can be saved. I have to help them.”
“Why don’t you just tell them when they come?”
“Because we need to get the book and that Heart to Miles. He’ll know what to do, to stop the Nephilim. Even if she doesn’t bring him back, you know the Nephilim are restless and will strike anyway.”
Everything was black again. My eyes and mind adjusted to my present time, with Danielle in bed and Ridge kneeling on the other side, holding her hand. I stared at her, confused.
“It was you? You made us dream all of those things? That wasn’t really my mother coming to me?”
“I’m sorry. Mother made me do it. She needed—” She stopped for a coughing fit. Her pale face reddened as she wheezed. Ridge smoothed back her hair and patted her hand. When she stopped, Ridge finished what she was going to say.
“Charmagne needed you to get the Heart. She lied to Gretchen, saying that the coven was going to use the grimoire against us, so she had her infiltrate them and take the book. She sent her to get the Heart, too, but she never came back.”
“Charmagne?! Why does she need these things? What’s she trying to do?”
“We don’t know, but it has something to do with the Nephilim and the last Watcher. Danielle can see every wicked deed Charmagne has done when she touches her. One of the last things she saw was her conversation with the witches, telling them to attack you all in the catacombs. She wanted to kill the others, but not you, because she needed you. And tonight, she tipped them off so that they could escape before the paladins showed up. As for why, we don’t know. Danielle cannot see motives.”
Danielle struggled to breathe, taking gasping breaths, her eyes wide with fright. I reached for her, but Ridge pushed my hand away.
“No,” he said. “She’s ready to go.”
“She’s just a child. She doesn’t know what she wants.” I tried to say it with sympathy, but it came out sounding harsh.
“Danielle looked at Ridge with pleading eyes and said, “It’s time.”
He ignored me and scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the balcony.
“Did you really hear the voice of God calling you to Danielle?” I asked him.
He smiled, and I think it was the first time I ever saw one on his lips. “Charmagne found me with other Nephilim. I’ve done terrible, wicked things for her. But Danielle saw something in me that I couldn’t: my humanity. She called to me. She spoke to me in my dreams, telling me I’m not like the others, that I can change. And when I saw what Charmagne was doing to her, I just wanted to protect her.” His smile fell. “I believe I have failed.”
Danielle coughed and wheezed. “You did … everything I asked.”
He kissed her forehead.
“Where are you taking her?”
“To her parents’ graves. She never knew them, but she wants to be with them.”
Before he took off, Danielle tapped his shoulder and whispered something in his ear.
He looked at me. “She said that the illusion will fall away when she passes. Do not be afraid.”
Before I could ask what he was talking about, he flew up into the night sky with Danielle in his arms, and I was left alone in her bedroom.
I sat there for a few minutes, trying to piece everything together. Who were Danielle’s parents and how were she and Nadia sisters? What did Charmagne want with the Heart and the grimoire? Why did she need me to go underground to get the Heart? Was she really the one who sent those masks to New Orleans and why? What Watcher were they talking about?
Fifteen minutes must have passed as I sat and thought. And then something peculiar started to happen. It was dark in the room with just the moonlight coming in through the window, so it was hardly noticeable at first. Slowly, the room began to look dirtier, with small cobwebs appearing in the corners of the ceiling, spots on the mirror of her dresser, dust on the furniture. Even the smell of dust wafted from the bed covers.
I clutched my backpack closely and went out into the hallway which was lit with several sconces. The lovely wallpaper yellowed and peeled before my eyes. The carpet became threadbare, and the window at the end of the hallway now had a long crack in it and was covered in dust. The flames of the sconces flickered and blew out, and more cobwebs appeared. My eyes took a second to adjust to the little moonlight filtering in through the windows on either end of the hallway.
Making my way to the stairs, I found the banister’s wood to be rotted and splintered. I felt I was going mad as I descended the now creaking steps and found myself in the foyer. The glorious chandelier hung sideways from the ceiling, and numerous broken crystals were scattered on the dirty floor. More dust, cobwebs and cracked glass on the furniture and windows, and the stench of mildew filled my nostrils.
I shook badly, afraid to take another step, wishing Miles and Noah were with me, even wishing for Ridge to return. And thinking of Ridge reminded me of the last thing he said: “The illusion will fall away when she passes.”
I realized then that it had been an illusion from the beginning. Charmagne had been using Danielle to invade our dreams, to plant suggestions, and to disguise this very house. This is what the house truly was, not the grand chateau I saw when I arrived. And this is why Danielle was sick. Paladins weaken when they use their power. Charmagne had been forcing Danielle to project this illusion for us for so long, and it had slowly been killing her.
I headed for the door, intent on running away, anywhere but this house, away from this horrible reality that felt like a nightmare. Before I reached the door, a withered hand grabbed me. I whipped around to see an old woman with thin white hair and sunken cognac eyes, and I realized it was Charmagne. It was her true age, but she was no longer beautiful. Her wicked deeds—taking the life force of the good—robbed her of all beauty. Her skin was graying and withered and clung to her skull.
Before I could react, she was already draining my power. I fought back, trying to drain her life force, but she was too strong for me, and only moments later, I collapsed onto the foyer floor.
***
I awoke feeling groggy, finding myself in a decaying bedroom with black curtains but no windows and an old-fashioned king sized canopy bed draped in dusty, rotted burgundy velvet. I was tied to a chair in the corner of the room that was lit with black candles throughout. Lying on the bed was either a Watcher or a Nephil. His dark purple wings were fanned out, stretching over the boarders of the bed. He was asleep—no, dead. His face was ghostly pale; no life resonated from his being. Near the bed was an altar covered with black cloth.
&nbs
p; “He looks almost peaceful, doesn’t he?”
I swung my head around to see Charmagne standing in the doorway. She looked longingly at him for a moment and then at me. Her eyes studied me. “I suppose it is a shock to see me this way, no?”
“You deserve to be that ugly,” I said. “How could you do that to Danielle?”
“If she could have only held on a few more hours, I wouldn’t have needed her to alter your reality of this house. Danielle’s death is unfortunate, but I’m afraid it’s a sacrifice that was needed.”
“You killed her!”
She laughed. “I did no such thing! I had her use her powers for the greater good. It’s what any mother would do.”
“You’re not her mother.”
Her eyebrow twitched in agitation. “So she told you then? I had a suspicion she knew months ago, so I did what I could to prevent her from finding out the truth.” She tilted her head and contorted her face in mock sympathy. “It was far kinder this way, that Danielle not know her sister. Nadia would have taken her from me had she known. She would have figured out that I killed her parents and took her baby sister. But I needed her!
“I have studied hereditary traits in paladins for many years now, and I knew with almost one-hundred percent certainty that Gerald and Eve Ancelet would produce a child with the dormant ability to invade dreams and project illusions. Nadia had this trait as well, but her parents were suspicious that I had turned to the Dark Side, so they sent her to New Orleans to protect her. It’s a shame she never realized her ability. She stayed a light paladin until she died.”
“Until you had her killed, you disgusting bitch!”
“You Americans have such vulgar language.”
I tried summoning any power so I could to drain her life force, but I was still so exhausted from her overtaking me. She noticed what I tried to do, however.
Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 03 - Dark Legacy Page 22