by Cindy Mezni
I looked Ezekiel in the eye again, but, this time, I did it of my own free will. I granted him my most mocking and condescending smile.
“Tëra’nien nëgä!*” I exclaimed, loud and clear. [* Kill them all!]
As one, they roared and dashed to us. From then on, everything happened very fast. Ezekiel’s Nëphyr completely forgot about Nathanael and began to run away in the opposite direction of the gigantic animals of the Protegäm. A vain attempt from the cowards they were. Leonemä was the first one to catch one of them; he opened his enormous mouth and closed it on the Nëphyr. His lower body, still moving during a few instants, fell on the ground while Leonemä chewed the rest. Panthrä threw violently the second against a wall before rushing at his prey and starting to feed on him. Tigriä quickly reached the last one and began to fight him tooth and claw.
Without a warning, Ezekiel caught me by my hair and carried me away from the battle. Far from Nathanael who’d just grabbed his tongue on the ground. He looked up at me all of a sudden and stood up. He was about to come to my aid when the unthinkable occurred. The last goon came toward Ezekiel and me, running. That way, he succeeded in making Tigriä, who was chasing him until now, interested in Nathanael rather than in him because Nathanael was closer. Without hesitation, Tigriä threw himself on Nathanael because I’d ordered the Protegäm to kill everybody. Ezekiel dragged me away in a neighboring alley and put a hand on my mouth to stop me from trying to order Tigriä to stop. The last thing I saw before Ezekiel and I disappeared in the other street was Nathanael in an awkward position and the last minion who didn’t see Leonemä coming close to him. The only thing I could think about was that I’d never know if Nathanael had survived or not.
“You rotten bitch!” Ezekiel said, pinning me to a wall, his hand disappearing from my mouth to grab my throat. “You thought your fucking creatures on all fours were going to help you, didn’t you? Well, you thought wrong!”
He slapped me. And slapped me again. Then he did it a third time. I stopped counting and endured the hits without reacting, though I was seething with rage inwardly. I was familiar with this. He was taking it out on me. The less I reacted the quicker it would end. This situation was strangely similar to our early time together.
“I don’t have time to play anymore. What a shame,” he said, greatly irritated. “I’d planned to take care of you properly but I have to give up this pleasant idea. I’d thought you would be useful for me to achieve my ends with the High Instances—”
“The High Instances?” I cut him off because I didn’t get why he was mentioning them.
“Yes, the High Instances. You thought the attack from the humans was just a diversion for the allies who surrounded you? I could have got rid of them easily without that. No, the primary reason for my killing of humans on their territory was to set off the Alpha code and make the humans come here, knowing it would bring the High Instances to New Hell, too. And I was right. They’re here. And now we can get rid of them.”
So I wasn’t wrong. The Bane indeed accompanied the Trackers and the High Instances.
“You want to kill the High Instances,” I said with total incredulity.
“It’s what I’ve just said,” Ezekiel told me with a smile.
“It’s impossible . . .”
“And yet it’s going to happen because my army of Nëphyr, vampires and lycans is going to eradicate them,” he said confidently.
With these three races, I didn’t dare imagine the number of members that counted his clan of exiles. Satan, Ezekiel’s plans were going to set the world ablaze. Without sovereign and with the threat of the High Instances gone, the Nëphyr of New Hell—and those of many other clans probably—would stop following the rules and commit mass slaughters. And humans as well as other Creatures of Darkness wouldn’t let that happen without reacting because the survival of everyone was depending on the fact that all the parties involved in the Cohabitation Treaty respected it. The thirst for vengeance of Ezekiel would maybe lead our race to its extinction . . .
“The time has come for you to be killed,” Ezekiel declared coldly, his piercing and emotionless blue gaze riveted on mine.
I didn’t answer. What could I say anyway? Nothing. Nathanael was probably dead by now and, no matter the outcome of this day, I was condemned. And the same went for my clan. There really was no reason to argue or to try to negotiate by that point.
“Painfully or not?” he said as for himself.
One or the other, I didn’t care. All I wished was for it to be over already.
“Nemesis . . .”
I was very careful to not show any emotion, even though I suddenly felt a mixture of relief and a sense of urgency overwhelm me. Nathanael . . . He was still alive. But if I didn’t help him quickly, he wasn’t going to remain that way long. Because even if he managed to get rid of Tigriä, the others wouldn’t let him live because of my too vague order.
I had to rectify this mistake at all costs.
“I have one last request!” I exclaimed all of a sudden, pretending to be nervous at the idea of expressing it aloud.
An idea was taking form in my mind. It could work. Ezekiel smiled at me, intrigued. He made a sign to tell me to continue.
“I . . . A farewell kiss.”
He’d probably mistaken my stammering for embarrassment. In reality, having said that had literally hurt my tongue. I had a horrible bitter taste in my mouth. Imagining to having to put my lips on his again was unbearable. But I was going to do it. I had to. Ezekiel looked impassive.
“It’s all I ask for,” I insisted. “After that, you can twist my neck, crush my heart, tear my head off or whatever you want, I’ll let you do it.”
He stared hard at me for a long time before his body came closer to mine. His eyes had a particular glint, which I couldn’t put a name on.
“I matter to you,” he told me, his voice sounding strangely delighted.
I got it, then. This fool was boasting about my request. He thought I still cared about him, after everything he’d inflicted upon me, and that he was that important and unforgettable. He flattened me against him and put his mouth on mine. All the cells of my body wanted me to push him away. My mind screamed at me to do it. I didn’t. It was now that everything happened. I kissed him back languorously and pressed myself against him even more if it was possible. I felt his blatant desire for me. He was more than flattered, obviously; he was downright excited that I asked him for a kiss. Unless it was the prospect of my death which “pleased” him that much, a thing which wouldn’t surprise me at all coming from him. As the kiss intensified, I forced myself to rub against him as a cat in heat and called upon the Pyronnaë. I felt it invade me. I slowly began to transfer fire from my mouth to his. I wished for him to die but what I wanted more than anything was for him to suffer before dying, because if somebody deserved it, it was him. And in order to do it, I was going to burn him from the inside out. He realized too late what I was doing. He tried to get away from me but I spun us around without stopping my kiss and pinned his body to the wall.
Today was the day when Ezekiel would die.
I began the final act, propagating fire throughout his body while pushing my hand in his rib cage very slowly. I framed his heart with my fingers and burned it to a cinder. And I did this while looking at him, unblinking.
“‘My gaze riveted to yours to watch you give your last breath,’” I reminded him with cold cruelty. “I’d sworn that to you and it looks like I was the one who was right.”
I offered him my most satisfied smile.
“We’ll meet up again in Hell, my love,” I pronounced in a very smarmy voice.
Surprise, anger, acceptance and then something akin to respect appeared in his eyes. I finished him off by tearing the rest of his heart out. I watched Ezekiel’s lifeless body fall heavily on the ground before I looked at the burned organ. He had a heart, after all. As I didn’t want to risk Ezekiel being resurrected, I set fire to the rest until they were reduced
to ashes in my hand. I dropped them to the ground and turned on my heel to find Nathanael, hoping I wouldn’t be too late.
22
The Bond
“Move away from him!” I barked to the servant of Ezekiel.
Why the Devil was this exile, this Hell’s reject, still capable of walking and hardly hurt? Simply, why was he still alive? And was Nathanael? His body was lying on the ground, covered in blood, but I couldn’t tell if he was dead or not. For their part, Leonemä, Panthrä and Tigriä were nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s Ezekiel?” the Nëphyr shouted, aggressive.
“Where he should have been for a long time,” I said.
Ezekiel wasn’t anymore. I would never have believed this thought could be true, and yet it was.
“You’re about to suffer for this,” he retorted, beside himself with anger.
He got closer to Nathanael’s body. I used the Psychokinesaë to move a big concrete block from a damaged building and I dropped it in front of him. He stopped walking.
“Another move in his direction and you’re going to end up as a living torch,” I promised him.
He seemed to want to move forward, but after a short hesitation, he eventually took a step back.
“Now get away,” I said in a harsh tone.
He began to doubt it again, not knowing what to do. What Ezekiel had inflicted upon his subjects so that, even dead, they were still ready to execute his will?
“Leave, damn it!” I said, losing patience.
He kept scrutinizing me before finally turning his back to me and running. I smiled with satisfaction. He didn’t know me very well if he believed I was going to let him leave without paying. I recalled he was the one who’d torn Nathanael’s tongue out. It was also because of him that Tigriä had attacked Nathanael and that he was maybe dead now. He deserved a painful punishment for all this. He was about to reach the end of the street when I used the Psychokinesaë again to lift up in the air his body and impale him on a street light. The light broke upon impact with his body but the pole went right through his stomach. His scream of agony tore through the silence hovering over the deserted street. I made the metal he got through bend and twist around him in order to hold him in place. He started struggling to get away but, of course, without success.
Until I could deal with him, it would do the trick so he stayed where he was. I had something much more important to do right now.
I ran to Nathanael. I observed him while palpating his body to see if something was missing or if some bones were broken. His check-up wasn’t good. The henchman of Ezekiel had caused a lot of damages when he set Tigriä on him. His tongue had had time to find back its place and regenerate completely, but he had one or two fractures and several wounds which were bleeding abundantly. He had probably lost around four pints of blood given the puddle around him which kept growing. Given his injuries, I was going to have to give a lot of myself. I opened my wrist with my teeth and spilled my blood on the wounds of his right leg as well as on his belly and throat. Where our bloods came into contact, some smoke with a smell of sulfur appeared. I decided then that drinking my blood wouldn’t be a bad thing. I opened his mouth with my fingers and put my wound over his lips. I didn’t continue for long in order to avoid for him entering the Furiäm Sanguië or spitting out all my blood when he came back to life. When I was certain I couldn’t do anything else, I got up and turned away from him. I joined the Nëphyr who was still wriggling like a worm to try to free himself.
“Having fun?” I asked, sarcastic.
He stopped moving and groaned in pain.
“What do you want? To torture me?”
A smile came on my face.
“Hmm . . . There’s that . . .”
“What do you want?” he repeated, the anger he felt perceptible in his voice.
“I want you to deliver a message for me.”
He laughed. A cold laugh, like the one of his master.
“Because you believe I’m going to be your messenger? You delude yourself with soft illusions, doll.”
Doll? No. A definitive no.
“Whether you like it or not, you’re going to be my messenger, trust me on that.”
On these words, I used the Psychokinesaë again and tore off another street light I made fly to him and twisted it around his head. Every time he tried to struggle, I tightened it around him. He stopped moving, knowing that if he kept this on, his skull would end up broken, which hurt like Hell. He shot a dirty look in my direction.
“You little—”
“In your place, I’d avoid insulting the one who can do anything to you because, if you had the desire to call me a bitch or Satan knows what else, I could . . . I don’t know . . . tear you limb from limb! Still willing to insult me?” I asked him, already knowing the answer.
“No,” he said, his expression furious and his eyes shining.
“Are you going to deliver my message?”
He stared at me during a few seconds, looking both enraged and hesitant, but in the end, he didn’t answer.
“Very well,” I sighed before using the Psychokinesaë again.
I tore his arm off slowly as he howled with pain. It didn’t affect me at all. After all, he took great pleasure in mutilating Nathanael. I looked at the limb that just fell to the ground. I hesitated to burn it so this Nëphyr would remember me and the other exiles would know I was dead serious when he gave them my message. I came toward the arm, grabbed it, and decided finally to tear only three fingers off and burn them. It was enough for him to not forget me and never underestimate me again. I freed him from the two street lamps, which wasn’t a walk in the park for him, and threw the arm to his owner when I dropped his body on the ground. Looking like he was going through Hell, he took a few moments to realize what had happened to his fingers. His eyes shot daggers at me before grabbing what belonged to him and pressing it to the wound which was bleeding a lot.
“Are you going to deliver the message . . . or should I go on?” I asked him, letting my gaze wander on a specific part on his person so he would get what I was implying.
“I’ll deliver your fucking message,” he told me through clenched teeth, as much because of his pain as the resentment he was feeling toward me.
“Fabulous!” I said with fake enthusiasm before saying, dead serious, “Tell those who were with you in the clan of Ezekiel that the Ameïan clan is now untouchable and that whoever will dare to challenge it will suffer the worst pains before being executed. Don’t forget to specify the Queen of said clan killed your leader, Ezekiel. And don’t hesitate to spread the word farther. I want everybody to know about it.”
“Will that be all, your Supreme Highness?” he said derisively.
“Stifle your sarcasm and spread the message, that’s the only thing I ask you to do.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to leave. Seeing he didn’t take the hint, I gave him an eloquent look.
“Now!” I insisted, raising my voice.
After a last venomous glance, he left, still holding his arm for it to heal correctly. I watched him leave while the rain started again. I looked at the sky. I let the raindrops clean me slowly. With the dried blood and the dirt I had on me, a little water wouldn’t do me any harm. And maybe it would erase the imprint of Ezekiel which I had the impression of feeling on all my being. All of a sudden, reality caught up with me and the surrealism of this moment made me burst out laughing nervously. Beyond doubt, I was soon going to die or to be subjected to the Never Ending Torment and what was I doing? I stayed there in the rain while I should have fled or even returned with my clan to help it. But, given the absence of explosions sounds or helicopters in the sky, the confrontation had to be already over for some time. A good thing, in addition to Ezekiel’s death.
I heard a weak growling behind me which snapped me back to the present moment. I turned around. Nathanael was conscious and trying to sit up with great difficulty. Belatedly, I rushed to his side.
“
How do you feel?” I asked as soon as I knelt down near him.
He raised his eyes to me and looked both suspicious and pleasantly surprised, at least it seemed to me.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard you ask me that question,” he said with a slightly hoarse voice. “It’s the first time I’ve heard you ask anyone that question, actually.”
Cut to the quick, an annoyed expression took over my face. He’d survived, I was still alive for now and it was the only thing he found to say? Damn him!
“Act as if I’d said nothing,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes.
He opened his mouth but a weak coughing fit prevented him from speaking.
“Like I’m going to for—” he began when he calmed down, before interrupting himself again and his eyebrows were suddenly furrowed. “Where’s Ezekiel? Where are the oth—”
“One thing at a time,” I interrupted him. “Ezekiel is dead. The others, too. For the moment, everything is fine.”
The one who’d cut his tongue was still alive but he didn’t need to know it because he wasn’t a danger anymore. He mulled over my words for a few instants, wondering certainly how I’d succeeded in killing Ezekiel. He slowly frowned even more, if it was possible.
“What do you mean, ‘for the moment?’”
I’d given him too much information.
“I’m sure our people are doing very well without us, they may have already put an end to the confrontations, but we have to rejoin them.”
I fell silent before I told him too much again. I’d just survived Ezekiel, something which had seemed impossible until it happened, and Nathanael hadn’t died. And now I was supposed to think of my imminent death, to speak about it to Nathanael and to see him risk his life to defend me. Because I was sure he wasn’t going to let the High Instances get to me without fighting. Especially not after what I’d admitted about him in front of Ezekiel and him earlier.
“And . . .?” Nathanael said, not fooled at all.