by Rita Vetere
All she could do was stare at him in utter disbelief. He carried on.
"There aren't many of us old halflings left. Only two others, aside from me, Thomas and Nathaniel. Ahriman's produced other children in the past two decades since awakening, of course, six of them last I heard, but most of them were too young to be brought into the fold."
When he finished talking, Carla finally found her tongue. “This is bullshit. I don't believe a word of it. Whatever stupid game you're playing, what does any of it have to do with Jasmine—or me for that matter?” she asked, shooting him a suspicious look. “Why did you bring Jasmine here? And what have you done to her?"
Christopher suddenly moved toward her, pushing her up against the wall and bringing his face up to hers until they were nose-to-nose. “Don't ever speak to me that way again. Understand? If you weren't here under Ahriman's protection, I'd—"
Carla remained perfectly still. The man was insane.
"Jasmine is the key to everything,” Christopher said. “She's the only female Cambion in existence, so—"
"Jasmine—you're saying Jasmine is a Cambion, too?” Carla asked in amazement.
"Yes. As I said, the only female in existence. Unfortunately, she wasn't as cooperative as you when it came to Ahriman's advances. As for what we've done to her, she's merely been heavily sedated. Large doses of anti-anxiety medication. Nothing more. The medication won't adversely affect the fetus."
"The—what did you say?"
"You heard right. The child Jasmine's carrying was fathered by Ahriman. And it's the first of its kind. With an incubus father and Cambion mother, the child will be almost as powerful as Ahriman himself. We're about to witness the birth of a new race. And,” he added, “once the child is born, Ahriman believes he'll become immortal. And, of course, eventually, he'll be able to supplant the human race with his new breed. Ahriman's going to be the most powerful being on earth once he achieves immortality."
Carla raised her hands, as if by doing so, she could ward off his insane words. “No. No more. This is craziness. I don't believe any of it. And you! How could you do this to Jasmine?” It dawned on her what a monumental mistake she had made in following Ahriman here, a mistake which she might not now be able to redress. These people were crazy.
"I did what Ahriman asked me to, as will you.” His voice became threatening again. “You would do well to listen to what I'm telling you. You must have sensed Ahriman's real nature on some level ... You've felt his attraction. Haven't you ever asked yourself why he is so irresistible? And once he claims you, you're his for life."
I've got to get out of here. Tonight. She was frightened to death now. Before she did anything else, though, she had to find Jasmine. What Christopher had just told her was unbelievable, and yet ... Even after what she'd just heard, the desire that swept through her at the mere mention of Ahriman's name caused her to wonder if he wasn't what he claimed to be. Had she fallen under the spell of a monster?
"I want to see Jasmine."
"You don't give the orders around here. Jasmine's off-limits to you and everybody else,” Christopher said in a steely voice. “Got it? As for you, don't be getting any ideas about running. Ahriman wouldn't like it. Besides, there's no getting away from him if he wants you here."
Carla gave him a rebellious stare.
"It's not wise to cross him, Carla ... You've heard of the dark souls? Ahriman's faithful ones?” His lip curled in a sly smile.
Carla felt the blood drain from her face. “No,” she said, feeling nauseated and wanting to put an end to this incredible conversation.
"Just as well. They're deadly mean ... and very protective of Ahriman. You wouldn't want to run into them. Not for any reason, I assure you.” He looked intently at her. “So, are we clear on the ground rules here?"
She hesitated, refusing to meet his eyes. Dark souls? Ahriman's faithful? This wasn't a game. Both her own life and Jasmine's were in danger. That much had gotten through to her. Finally, she said, “Yes. Perfectly clear.” She hurried back inside, wanting to get as far away from him as she could.
Once inside, she raced upstairs. No matter what Christopher had said, she needed to find Jasmine and make sure she was all right. With a shock, she realized what she had learned tonight from Christopher was most likely the reason behind Jasmine's attempt to take her own life. Dear God. What had they gotten into? And Jasmine. A Cambion? It did seem to explain a lot, once she thought about it. Cambion or not, Jasmine was her best friend. She had to make sure she was all right.
When she got to the second floor, she glimpsed the strange doctor, Stronik, through the half-open door of his suite of rooms at the top of the landing. She slowed her pace and quietly continued along the hallway, trying every door as she went along. One of the suites had been prepared for Christopher, his bags set down inside the door. She continued on, finding nothing, until she arrived at the end of the long corridor. The last door on the left was locked. She placed her ear against the rough wood of the heavy door and listened.
Her head jerked back when she heard the strange sounds coming from the other side. “Jasmine! Jazzy, are you in there?” she whispered frantically, rattling the knob. The voices shrieked, and Carla stepped away from the door, terrified by the hideous sounds.
She recalled what Christopher had told her about the dark souls. They're deadly mean ... You wouldn't want to run into them for any reason.
Something slammed against the door from the other side, accompanied by a high-pitched, screeching noise that paralyzed her with fear. She prayed for her friend. But she ran. And did not pause for breath until she was back in her third floor bedroom with the door locked. She raced to retrieve her cellphone to call for help. It was nowhere to be found.
* * * *
Someone shook Jasmine awake. “Time to eat."
Jasmine opened her eyes to bright sunlight and squinted to focus on the face of the woman. It was the maid from the night before who stood next to her bed, holding a tray. A fierce headache penetrated Jasmine's eyes like daggers. Her remembrance of the previous night's encounter with the dark souls was blurred, but images of upraised hands and the sound of chanting voices floated through her dazed mind. She stared blankly at the woman.
"Breakfast, Miss” the maid repeated, setting the tray down on a small table next to the bed. She lifted Jasmine's head and arranged the pillows to sit her up. The woman's face appeared too long, the room distorted. The maid dipped a spoon into the bowl on the tray and held it out in front of Jasmine's lips. “You have to eat something."
The woman slipped the spoon between Jasmine's lips. The cream of wheat that landed in Jasmine's mouth plopped back out. Strands of white goo dribbled down her chin and neck. The maid used a napkin from the tray to wipe it away.
A clear memory from the night before came into focus, of a scarecrow-like spirit standing over her, ready to strike her with an emaciated hand.
Jasmine suddenly grasped the lapel of the maid's uniform. “Help me ... Help me get out of here..."
"Now, now,” said the woman, as she pried Jasmine's fingers from her collar. “No one's going to hurt you, dear. You're safe here. Mr. Ahriman left word that you're to be well-looked after, and you will be, ma'am."
"...last night,” Jasmine rambled, her head throbbing mercilessly. “They were in my room..."
Using a device she pulled from her pocket, the maid paged Dr. Stronik to the room.
"No. Don't do that..."
Seconds later, Stronik rushed in. “Thank you, Miss Wylde, I'll take it from here."
Dr. Stronik suctioned the contents of a small vial into a syringe and used a cotton ball saturated with alcohol to rub the area below her shoulder. Jasmine flailed her arms about weakly in an attempt to keep him away, but he grabbed her upper arm and jammed the needle in before she knew what had happened.
"I've increased the dosage,” she heard him say from far away. “She'll be fine now."
Immediately, her body went limp. Her thoug
hts turned vaporous, drifting through her mind like the clouds in the sky outside her window. Blissful nothingness descended over her.
* * * *
Night again. Jasmine stared at the storm raging outside her window, mesmerized by the back-and-forth motion of the wind-whipped trees. The images skittering across her mind made no sense, not even to her. Lightning lit the sky nearby, and in the momentary flash of light, she saw them—the dark souls. They filled the room, some standing, others crawling with spider-like movements up the walls and along the ceiling. Still others hung upside-down like bats on the heavy curtains flanking the window.
Jasmine did not immediately react, feeling oddly disconnected from the sight of the hideously deformed creatures. Her debilitated mind wondered vaguely why her mother had not been able to see them. Because she wasn't a Cambion, came the answer from within. The phantasms stared, their dead eyes trained on her as they inched their way closer and closer to the bed. Sparks of anger ignited and sputtered out as Jasmine attempted in vain to summon her wrath.
"You don't scare me, you dumb, dead m'fuckers."
She did her best to keep them back, away from her, but that bastard, Stronik, had increased the dosage, and her mental push collapsed. Seconds later, they surrounded her, ready to begin their night's work.
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Chapter 26
Carla looked out her bedroom window at the dreary day. A drizzly rain, which had begun early that morning, continued to fall, muting the vibrant colors of the landscape and turning the tree trunks slick and dark. Dismal gray afternoon light filtered into the room, underscoring her dark mood.
Two months. Eight weeks and two days to be exact, since Jasmine had arrived and Carla had learned the truth. She walked listlessly to the dressing table tucked into the room's corner and sat, brushing her velvety black hair in quick, downward strokes. She turned away from her reflection in the mirror, as if by doing so, she could eradicate the truth contained in the frightened eyes that stared back at her.
Her hands moved to her midsection, where nausea, and something more, sat heavily. Two months. And now I'm pregnant. Another Cambion to add to his collection. She covered her face with her hands and wept.
To her horror and disgust, everything Christopher had told her turned out to be true. Ahriman had made it abundantly clear to her that she would remain here with him, to be used at his pleasure, or suffer the consequences. The one night she had endured in the company of the dark souls was all it had taken to convince her Ahriman was never again to be crossed, not under any circumstances. Once she had emerged, shaken and bruised from her night of torment at the hands of the faithful, she'd agreed to his conditions without argument. In return, Ahriman told her she would be allowed free access to the house, and be permitted to walk the gardens twice a day.
That bastard. She grabbed one of the perfume bottles from the dressing table, remembering how she'd so admired the dainty glass creations on her arrival, and hurled it across the room where it shattered against the wall. Roiling anger erupted inside her. How could I have been so stupid?
And Jasmine. She could not imagine what her friend must be enduring at the hands of the dark souls every night. Carla had done her best over the past two months to try to gain entry to Jasmine's room, but the key was under Ahriman's control, or Christopher's when Ahriman wasn't around. She'd tried to communicate with Jasmine through the locked door many times during the daylight hours when no one was nearby, but Jasmine did not respond. No doubt she was too doped up to talk, or even hear her. Carla knew her friend was still alive, and would remain so, at least until she gave birth, but nothing more. She'd not seen her since the first night Jasmine had been carried in, and was sick with worry for her.
Mixed in with Carla's anger and worry was the shame of knowing she had taken Ahriman into her bed many times in the past two months. On each occasion he'd materialized, his shadowy charisma had only increased, making it impossible for her to reject him. He continued to glamour her at whim. Save for when she was under his spell, her days were filled with fear and despair. She'd not been able to come up with a way out of this miserable mess. Not yet, anyway.
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Chapter 27
Jasmine mechanically swallowed the food being spoon fed to her. “What day?” she asked the maid assigned to her care, whom she knew only as Miss Wylde. Then she turned to stare vacantly outside the window again, at the early morning fog as it slowly burned away in the sunlight. Vague memories of her life back in Tampa drifted and rolled through her mind. They were blotted out by menacing images of Ahriman, and Christopher's arrogant face, causing vengeful thoughts to momentarily awaken before dissipating.
Another day of endless routine awaited her. Breakfast and sponge bath in the morning, followed by a visit from Dr. Stronik, and an injection. Then lunch. In the afternoon, Miss Wylde assisted her in walking around her bedroom. Dinner, more walking. Then night, and the arrival of her nocturnal companions.
"Tuesday, miss."
"No, what day ... what date?” she stuttered. She looked down at her enlarged stomach. The sight of it filled her with unformed dread.
"The twenty-second of April today."
"How long...?"
Miss Wylde looked at her sympathetically. “How long have you been here?"
Jasmine nodded.
"Almost six months now."
A single teardrop rolled down her cheek as the unwanted knowledge seeped in. It's almost time.
"Come now, don't cry, Miss. Dr. Stronik says you're getting better. You're going to be all right,” she told her. “Eat something, now. You need your strength. For the baby."
Jasmine attempted to focus on the woman's face, trying, and not succeeding, to penetrate the nurse's mind. She noticed the woman glanced furtively at her scarred wrist and understood the expression in her eyes. She thinks I'm crazy. An indiscretion on the part of her employer, knocking up a woman who'd turned out to have mental problems.
Jasmine disconnected again, opening her mouth like a baby bird waiting for its mother to feed it.
* * * *
The next several days floated by like all the others for Jasmine, until she awoke early one evening, vaguely aware that the bedding beneath her was saturated with moisture. The lock turned in the heavy door to her room, and Dr. Stronik entered. Her confusion increased. No injections at night, only morning. Then Christopher walked in, and she remembered. She faced forward again. It's time. The baby's coming. That's why they're here. That's why the bed's wet. Her water had broken.
She heard Christopher's whispered voice as he spoke to Stronik. “I sent the last of the staff home for the next two weeks. Ahriman wanted no outsiders in the house during the birth and for a while after. They were happy for the time off. No one batted an eye. How long do you think it'll be before she delivers?"
"Could be as early as tonight. Certainly within the next forty-eight hours. I'm prepared for a C-section, if one becomes necessary."
Jasmine heard their shuffling footsteps as the two men moved about. What were they doing? Suddenly, the deep glow of candlelight infused the room. Jasmine lifted her head weakly to see the men had placed heavy candles around the perimeter of the bed. Soon after, the scent of burning incense assailed her.
Christopher and Dr. Stronik stood over her. Jasmine looked straight ahead with a catatonic stare while the doctor snapped something into place on the posts at the head of the bed. Stronik and Christopher moved her arms away from her sides and bound her wrists with fat leather straps that snapped shut with grommets. She struggled feebly against the new restraints. It occurred to her, not for the first time, that Ahriman probably intended to kill her once the child was born.
Then Christopher leaned over her, and she shrank away from him, not wanting to even brush his shadow. He smiled at her distress as he removed something from his pocket and dangled it over her expressionless face.
The pendant. “No.” She struggled as he unbut
toned the front of her nightgown and placed it around her neck.
"It's almost time,” he whispered close to her ear.
Hot anger flashed through her momentarily. Before it dissolved, she met his eyes, and spat in his face. He moved as if to strike her, but calmly wiped the spittle from his face instead.
The weight of the pendant resting between her breasts felt deadly, the precursor of a dreaded event. Soon, Ahriman would arrive to witness the birth.
I am here, my child. You are not alone.
Jasmine started. Her eyes snapped open. This was not Ahriman's voice, but the other, the one she had heard months ago that had abandoned her. Christopher moved away from the bed to talk to Stronik on the other side of the room. She had heard the voice clearly, even through the fogginess of her drugged mind. The men's whispers faded into the background as the voice spoke again. Follow me, it urged. Travel toward me.
Jasmine latched onto the voice like a lifeline. She closed her eyes again and followed the voice down as it continued to speak soothingly to her.
After a moment, she entered a state where she was neither asleep nor awake. As she trailed the voice down through the layers of consciousness, her thoughts became less confused, her mind clearer.
Finally, she arrived at a place where she felt surrounded by a gentle presence, one that seemed to exude light and warmth. The remaining cobwebs parted and clarity returned to her, for the first time since she'd entered this prison.