The Meridian Gamble

  They try to drag me toward their small fire. And for men who are supposedly hungry, they are surprisingly strong. And I begin to regret leaving Roland. At least I would have enjoyed my death, as James Bennett did.

  But I am not so weak as they think. I still have Saga and her skills to my advantage. I remember in my story, her father teaching her to twist her arm a certain way to break an oppressor’s grasp, and I can see the maneuver in my mind’s eye. I try it, and to my surprise it works. My hand is suddenly free, and I use it to claw at the face of my attacker.

  “Aaaaah! You witch!”

  But sadly, I am made pointedly aware of the differences between Saga and myself, as the man backhands me. I fall to the ground, stunned, as I have never been struck in this way before. While Saga would have sprung back from such pain to fight, for me, all seems lost. And the foul men begin to tear at my clothes.

  As I am about to scream, a commanding voice comes booming toward us from the opening of the alley.

  “Let her go!”

  And the filthy vermin look up.

  “We’re not letting this one get away,” the bloated man says. “Step off, sir. If you’re not wanting to be hurt.”

  “You don’t understand. I am not asking you to let her go. I am telling you.”

  I think it must be Roland at first, but it’s difficult to see from my position. One of the ruffians has his foot on my chest in a most brusque manner. But I twist about somehow, and see that my savior is not Roland at all. It is Adam.

  He moves quickly, almost faster than my mind can process, wrenching the men off me. They fly through the air, and I can hear the sickening sounds of their bones snapping against the walls. A body bounces, and rolls near me, and I can see it is now a lifeless husk. And as I manage to get up, I watch as one of the men picks himself up and runs away.

  Much kinder arms lift me.

  I turn to face Adam, and stare into his eyes. And for some reason, he does not scare me, despite what I have seen him do to the men and James Bennett on this night.

  “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. It’s not safe for you here.”

  “Please. Don’t take me back to that place. It’s not safe for me there, either.”

  Adam stops for a moment, with an uncomfortable smile.

  “And where do you want me to take you?”

  “Anywhere but here. Please, don’t let them do this to me. Don’t let them change me.”

  I am shaking so hard, I think that I will die from the racing of my heart. And even though he is one of them, I see a glimmer of hesitation in Adam’s eyes. He looks back over his shoulder, and for a moment, I know he is thinking of helping me. But then, the big, black carriage pulls up to the open mouth of the alley, and Roland steps out.

  He approaches, and his eyes are filled with concern. But Roland is the one who terrifies me now.

  “Adam, thank you, but that is enough. I’ll take care of her from here.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What I have to do.”

  “You’re not going to bite her, are you?”

  “Of course, I’m going to bite her. She is far too important for me to take chances.”

  “She’s been through enough tonight. Give her time to recover.”

  “I would like nothing more than to do that. But she’s more willful than I thought, and her mind is difficult to control. I can barely pierce it, beyond influencing her emotions on a primitive level. This will make her more … malleable.”

  “I thought you were going to give her the choice? That you would let it be her decision.”

  And Roland smiles, wickedly.

  “Let’s see what her choice is after the bite.”

  It stuns me that Roland speaks of controlling me with his mind. But I realize now that I had been experiencing a strange buzzing about my head when I was around him, and this must have been it. And I fear now he plans to do something much worse.

  “Are you going to kill me?” I ask.

  And despite his cruel words, Roland looks to me with just a bit a sadness in his eyes.

  “No, I’m not going to kill you. I am going to bite you. There’s a difference, which you will soon see.”

  The fangs pop out of his mouth, and before I can even react, he plunges them into my neck.

  The pain is a horrific, at first. But only for the whisper of a moment. And then, it magically transforms. I am filled with the sweetest sensation imaginable. It is like paradise, or the way I picture one would feel in Heaven. The alley no longer exists, Adam no longer exists. Even my body no longer exists. I am melting away, like a pate of butter placed on a hot cooking pan. Caroline, the young girl from the upper crust of society no longer exists.

  My skin burns with pleasure wherever he touches me, where Roland’s arms hold me, through my clothes, and most especially where his lips touch my neck, as they suck at my life’s essence. It is the focal point of my joy, from which it radiates through my whole body. All that exists is this feeling. It is similar to the sensations I felt in my bed on the night I met Roland, times one thousand. And Roland … my darling Roland. His beauty and love are the only things that matter to me now. And I cannot imagine why I did not trust him before, or thought for a moment that he had anything but my best interests in mind. I don’t understand why I was ever afraid.

  And I would like nothing better than to stay on the filthy streets of Coventry Park forever, feeling this way.

  Yet, I am dimly aware of Roland withdrawing, which saddens me. I am weakened, and he lifts me up and carries me into the carriage, as we leave Adam behind, with a sad look in his eyes. And as I stare back at him, it seems odd that he would even be distressed, though his expression gives me the briefest moment of hesitation.

  We are inside the vehicle now, which begins to move, and Roland stares down at me in a loving way, thrills me.

  “Now do you see? That wasn’t so bad.”

  “No, not bad at all,” I say. And a part of me hopes he might do it again.

  “I am taking you home, where you will be safe,” Roland says. “But your dress, I’m afraid it’s been ruined.”

  “Oh, it is in poor shape,” I say, staring at my gown. The fabric is torn, and there are large patches of dirt, from when I tussled in the alley. “Mother will be quite cross.”

  “It is an affront to your beauty, one we must strip away,” Roland whispers.

  And slowly, he begins to peel the gown from my body, which I don’t resist. I welcome it, even though his actions are quite improper. And he does something even more delicious than the bite, which is to kiss me, sending shivers of excitement through my body. Roland begins to unfasten his own shirt, and though it is wrong, I allow him to lie on top of me, as the carriage journeys off into the night.

  Because there is nothing I hunger for more than his touch.

  Roland.

  The next morning when I wake, his face is the first thing that I see, even though it is only a glowing vision in my mind. He is all I can think of.

  I am vaguely aware of him bringing me home in the night, and carrying me to my room. And somewhere along the way I passed out, before I could beg him to stay and share my bed.

  Even now that he is gone, I still feel the lingering effects of his delicious bite, and my body tingles with happiness. I can see now why the Bennett’s father gave himself to them so willingly, because even as they devoured him, it must have felt wonderful. I would almost offer myself to do the same, if only to experience the joy Roland gave me once more. And really, did James Bennett not have a good life? He was older, and clearly they let him live out his years in wealth and contentment. Is that such a horrible way to die, feeling the way that I do now? Is it not better than passing of old age or sickness?

  But my fate will not be that of James Bennett, or even poor Philippa, because I am going to live forever.

  Roland has said it, he wishes to transform me into a creature like him. And what will that be like, to be immortal? Will I
drink the blood of others? Will he change Marjorie and the rest of my family, so I will have them with me? But I think perhaps I won’t want to share eternity with the others.

  It gives me a small thrill to know that I will be like my fiancée and the rest of his family, soon enough.

  Yet, there were dark deeds performed last night, like Philippa’s murder. Which seems like a miracle, in its own way, as it will allow Marjorie her happiness. But I am dimly aware of the violent nature in which she was dispatched, which does not seem right.

  Then again, why should I care about such unfortunate events? I have much nicer things to think of, such as my marriage to Roland, which will be the event of the season. Perhaps I shall allow him to buy me a white carriage, like the black one we rode in last night, with real gold decorations running along its side. And I shall live in a life of wealth and excess, as the rest of the Bennetts do.

  I am surprised, as my reverie is broken when the door to my room opens. Our maid Cecily enters, perhaps to lay out my clothes. It is unusual that she would come in without knocking, but I am so immersed in my thoughts of Roland it doesn’t seem to matter. But when she sits at the corner of my bed, I rouse from my stupor. Her familiarity is unwelcome, and if I am to rule a grand manor of my own, perhaps I should learn to teach the servants their place.

  “How dare you enter my room in this way!” I bellow.

  “Mademoiselle, what are you doing?” she asks, with concern.

  “What am I doing? Why, I am resting in my bed, and you are interrupting me.”

  “I saw that horrible man bring you home in the middle of the night. What did he do to you?”

  “How dare you speak about my fiancée in that way!”

  “He is not your fiancée at all. He is a monster.”

  And suddenly, the girl catches my attention. She seems to shake me from the haze that has filled my mind, and I sit higher up in the bed.

  Cecily knows. She knows something about Roland and his family’s true nature.

  “Why would you say such a thing?”

  “Has he bitten you?”

  I am shocked that she knows about the bite, and am afraid to answer. But she doesn’t wait for one. Cecily brushes my hair back, and turns my head to one side.

  The girl gasps in horror, as she becomes aware of my shame.

  “Oh, Mademoiselle. It may be too late for you now. You should not have let him bite you. That is how they control you. Your only hope now is to remember who you truly are. That you are of the Luminos.”

  “I am … luminous?”

  “Luminos. You are special. Your people are devoted to hunting down the monsters.”

  Luminos. The word came to me last night. And I suddenly realize that it is no coincidence. I know it, from my story of Saga. The Luminos are the secret sect she was born in. Though I never called them that myself in my stories, somehow I know that is their name. And suddenly, my mind is able to quell the thoughts of Roland, enough to focus on what Cecily says.

  “Cecily, what do you know of my fiancée and his family? And what are these Luminos people you are talking about? Are you … one of them?”

  “No, I am not. But they placed me here in this house to watch out for you, when they realized the monsters were interested in you and your family. And through watching you, they realized who you were, that you are one of them.”

  “They have been watching me? Roland and his family have been interested in me? For how long?”

  “Oh, Mademoiselle. They have done this to you. They have manipulated your father, and given him loans to saddle him with debt, through their agents. They wanted to weaken his company so that he would need to arrange this marriage. And then they will destroy you all and take over everything you have.”

  And my heart sinks.

  The girl gets up from the bed and goes to my desk, taking out a sheet of paper and a pen. She begins drawing something, but I don’t even care, because I am stunned. Roland has lied to me, has tricked me and manipulated me. He is not my savior, he has done all of this to me.

  And the rage I feel burns inside of me, almost as strongly as the feelings of pleasure he has given me, the ones that even now make me want to find a way to forgive him. And perhaps I should. Cecily is not a bright girl, she could have gotten it wrong. And how do I know these Luminos people really want to help me at all? If there is one thing I know for certain, it is that Roland wants to marry me, his love is no lie. And the emotions that mix within me are confusing.

  The girl comes back to my bed, and shows me a crude drawing she has made. It is a circle with six triangles around it that are meant to represent the sun. And I realize that I recognize this too. This is a drawing from my story, one that was put on Saga’s wall, to represent the hidden sect to which she belonged, a symbol of power. And it frightens me, how much of what I thought was just a silly tale from my imagination has suddenly come bleeding into my life.

  “Look at this, and all your questions will be answered. Focus on it. This is your only hope to break the hold the vampires have on you. I will tell your mother that you are sick, so that you may have some time alone.”

  “But …”

  “Only you can do this, Mademoiselle. I cannot help you any more.”

  And Cecily scurries away from me, just as quickly as she entered my room. She leaves me staring at the picture.

  It makes no sense. How can a drawing unlock the secrets of a hidden cult of warriors? And yet, where exactly are these secrets hidden? Because if they come from the story of Saga, then they seem to be hiding in my mind.

  Can this tale of Saga be something more than just a story? Can her adventures have actually happened? And if that’s so, how would I know of them?

  I think to go get my pages and reread them, to see if there is something that I have missed. But instead, I look at the picture again. And it feels strange to me, as if I can sense its power. And as I look at the lines she has drawn, they seem to almost sparkle and glow, like the filaments of gold that were woven into Marion’s dress.

  I strain my eyes, as a light seems to shine from the edges of the sun, just like the real one in the sky. And as I look at it, the center seems to glow and spring from the page, like a tunnel. A tunnel made of white rays.

  It happens, before I know what is going on. When I let myself to go this strange force, I feel it pull we away. And I scream, as I find myself spinning down the tunnel, being drawn to a place far away.

  Chapter Eight: Saga

  I feel the cloth sack being pulled from my head, the one that’s practically suffocating me, and I’m able to see again, though just barely. I am in a room, a large one, some kind of small arena, where I imagine warriors are made to fight. Wide doorways open to the outside world, but it is night, and I cannot see much of what lies beyond them.

  Steppes rise up all around me, benches that are filled with people watching me, though it’s difficult to see their faces. Torches are set on the arena floor, and their light blinds my eyes, which are still adjusting. But what truly makes it difficult to see is the glow that illuminates the bodies of the spectators, the radiance that emits from all of the Luminos, which only their kind … our kind can see.

  I have never been in the presence of so many of them before. The Luminos hide themselves too well for that, and their collected brightness overwhelms me.

  My father and Uncle stand beside me, and though Uncle has shown me much kindness in life, he bears a cold expression on this night. It is the same serious look my father wears, the one I have seen on him my entire life. But unlike Uncle, I do not think I can recall a time when my father has ever smiled, not even at the birth of my sisters.

  Perhaps because they were a disappointment to him. I am the only one of his children who is Luminos born, and even I am not what he expected.

  But, I am not to refer to this man as “father,” unless it is necessary. I should not even think of him that way in my mind. I must refer to him as the “General,” as his people do. It is a
n odd rule, a conundrum; we must never call him the General around strangers, who cannot learn his secret, but in private, we are not allowed to call him “father.” We call him the General as they all do, as our constant reminder that his life is devoted to the Luminos’ war.

  “This is the girl, my daughter,” the General announces to our audience.

  And there is a moment of silence, as the people gathered in the room seem to consider me. I look to the ground, for fear that they will view it as a sign of disrespect if I stare back at them brazenly, which could be a dangerous thing, to offend them. Each one is a highly skilled assassin who closely hides their true identity. It is only out of necessity that I am here, so that they can try to determine my strange nature. Because even though I have the glow of the Luminos, none of the ones who have passed through our home have ever recognized me from a past life. And so far, no memories have triggered for me, as they do for the rest of their people. If I have walked on this earth before, I have no knowledge of it. But sometimes the memories come back to them slowly, or so Uncle tells me, and I am still young.

  “Do any of you know her?” the General asks the crowd.

  And they look to one another, and spend a long time conferring. The suspense tortures me. Finally, an older man at the center of one of the front rows speaks.

  “We do not recognize her. What about you girl? Look up. Tell us if you see something in any of our faces.”

  Now that the light no longer bothers me, I look around the room, trying to drink in the details of their visages, because it is the one chance I will have to truly see the Luminos, unless they decide that I should stay in this hidden place, to train with them.

  The older man has a long grey beard and tired eyes, and he sits next to a woman who’s face is covered, though she has a large mole high on her cheek, the part that is left exposed. And there are others, young men with dark beards and black eyes, women with long flowing hair who do not care to cover their faces. But I know what it is they want. They want to know if any of their appearances shift and bend for me, if they become someone else before my eyes.