Awakening (37 page)

She pursed her lips, measuring the weight of his words. He frowned slightly, adding
a lie to the temptation of placating Auberon… himself. “Without the child she is defenseless. You know that he will tire of her eventually and he will eliminate her on his own; Give him his pet and you cannot lose.”

He could see the thought process working in her head and he smiled, “Well?”

“Take the child,” the Queen ordered. “We shall ask the Monoliths if the infant is a threat. The girl will remain locked up until we know one way or the other. If the girl is not a threat your brother may keep her. However, if she is a threat I will kill everyone who was involved with her ascent, including Auberon.”

“As you wish, Mother,” Auberon smiled though it hurt to do so
. Inwardly he cringed and his gut tightened with what he was about to do; what he had to do. As he strode over to the table where Celeste remained motionless, unconscious, the words of the Goddess came back to him.

“Uncle Auberon,” she said in her little girl voice, her soft breath fanning over his neck as he held her in his arms and she whispered in his ear. “They are going to
hurt the baby. They will destroy her, Uncle Auberon.”

He tilted his head back and looked at the child, the serious expression making her appear so much older, wiser than her three years. He swallowed, knowing that the next words she spoke were going to
condemn him. “Uncle Auberon, you must steal the baby first, by whatever means necessary.”

His gaze darted to Celeste, watching her in his brother’s arms
and an agony of longing swept over him. “Why?”

“The child is
important; she is a contingency plan,” the Goddess whispered, earnestly staring into his eyes. She placed her tiny hand on his cheek, offering comfort even as she stabbed him through the heart with her words. “If you do not steal her first and Celeste is destroyed, there will be no hope for the Apocritae.” She paused and looked over her shoulder at Celeste, “There will be one chance and you must take it.”

He swallowed air,
cold and thick and heavy with despair. “I cannot do that to her.”

“It’s the only way to save the child,” the Goddess said softly. “If you fail in this, the child will die.”

“And we will all be lost,” he said, laughing without humor. He looked at Celeste, willing her to look at him and
see
him. She did, turning her head, questions in her beautiful hazel eyes. How could he hurt her? How could he do what the Goddess said needed to be done?

Placing his hand over the small life within his beloved Celeste’s womb, he closed his eyes, letting his love and despair wash through him. He knew what he had to do. Lowering his voice, he spoke to the group surrounding Celeste’s
unconscious body, “Leave.”

All but one left. The interloper stood there, staring down at the girl. “What is she?”

Auberon’s nostrils flared as he fought the urge to slam his fist into the beast’s perfect face, “She’s just a girl that pleases my brother for the moment.”

He heard the sharp intake of breath next to him and he turned his head. Black irises surrounded by white stared back at him and it was his turn to catch his breath. The
Apocritum
smiled conspiratorially back and winked, “She’s not just a girl.”

With that,
the altered
Apocritum
walked away, leaving Auberon alone to do what needed to be done. Silently, he apologized to Celeste as he closed his eyes. He could feel the child’s fear as she tried to evade his grasp but she would not be able to escape. Sending out a wave of calmness, he let the child know that he meant her no harm, that she would be safe. She slowed, frightened and apprehensive as he removed her and the placenta from her mother’s womb.

“I must dispose of this… thing
and then I will consult with the Monoliths,” he sneered with his back towards the other occupants of the room. He couldn’t let them see the anguish twisting his face, it would give everything away. He hated the thought of leaving Celeste in the Queen's clutches for even a moment but he had no choice; he could only hope that his Mother loved him enough to grant him his wish. "Keep the girl safe."

Protectively cradling the small life in the mystical web, he quickly made his way out of the room, needing to get her to the gestation chamber before
his daring plan was discovered. He had to secure the child's future but there was so little time and he needed every moment of the next twenty-four hours to succeed. Swallowing, he silently begged for Celeste’s forgiveness, knowing he would never be worthy.

The Goddess had to be right.

Feeling sick unto death, Auberon made his way to the gestation tanks, carefully setting the embryo inside one. As he waited, he ran a genetic screen to see how it was possible for his brother to produce a child when he hadn’t had any genetic material.

Punching a few buttons, his jaw dropped as he saw the genetic material was a perfect match to one other person on file: Celeste. The child wasn’t the product of an
Apocritum
and a human; she was a clone of Celeste.

The contingency plan
should Celeste fail, just as the Goddess had said.

What have you done?
Adam's voice screamed in his head and Auberon had to bury his guilt and his pain. His brother was not going to be pleased to discover the angelic netting holding him. Of course Adam was going to be able to free himself eventually but Auberon needed him out of the way for this to work. He did not trust his brother to stay away from Celeste, especially if she suffered.
Auberon! What have you done?

I've done what was necessary to save us all
, he answered, watching the child age before his eyes.

I need to find her
, Adam growled, his desperation making his thoughts unsteady.
Free me, Auberon
.

If you go to her you will destroy us all
, Auberon said with a calmness he did not feel.
Let me handle this, brother; I promise you she will be safe
.

Please, Auberon, let me go to her
, Adam pleaded.
Release me and let me go to her.

Auberon squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed the agony,
desperate to keep his head clear for the next twenty-four hours.
This is the only way to save her, Adamanteros.

Stephen stood before the Queen, his body shaking from the events that had just played out, the events that he had brought about. Clutching the syringe against his chest, he squared his shoulders. He wasn’t going to think about the girl strapped to the table. Adam managed to save her but he wasn’t sure what kind of life Celeste would lead once she was released. At least she wasn’t going to be killed for her father’s sins. Where was the other girl? The blond? He hadn’t seen her since the hallway.

Kim, her name was Kim.

Dismissing his unwanted thoughts, he swallowed, “My wife?”

The Queen’s red lips curved upwards in a cruel smile as she subtly moved her head and a set of doors behind him promptly opened. Holding his breath, he slowly turned around. All of his years of hardship, of loss, faded as his precious Gloria flowed into the room, looking like a…
a whore in her
Calix
clothes. Forcing his eyes to remain on her precious face, he ignored the lack of material covering her lush body. It didn’t matter what she wore, he held her salvation in his hand. She would be human once more.

He drank in the sight of her
. After twenty-three years he was finally seeing his wife, the woman for whom he had sacrificed everything. She was just as beautiful as the day they met, perhaps even more so. Her chocolate brown hair was lustrous, just like it had been before she got sick; her skin was flawless, her eyes…. He frowned, her eyes were black,
Calix
black, not the beautiful hazel he remembered. Of course they were black; she was a
Calix
, if only for a little while longer. How else did she remain young while he had aged?

“Thank you,” Stephen murmured, bowing to the creature
who made this moment possible, no matter what the cost. Cautiously, he approached his wife, careful to keep his euphoria in check. It wouldn’t do to alarm her, she was still
Calix
. But that was about to change; it didn’t matter that he stood in the Queen’s chambers, that the powerful woman was an audience to this most daring rescue. He had waited for so long and the blood was so fresh; he had to do it now before the blood lost is effectiveness.

Gloria
stood so still, wary but unmoving, not watching him at all, not seeing him.

As soon as he was close enough to her,
he was able to smell her familiar scent. But it wasn’t familiar; she smelled of musk and sex, not like the girl he once knew. Ignoring the doubts that tried to reach him, he snaked his free arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. She was cool to the touch, abnormally so, but he didn’t let that distract him. Without a second thought, he took the syringe of Celeste’s blood and stabbed it into Gloria’s neck, forcing the blood into her body. He felt her begin to tremble and he sighed with relief; it worked.

Her shriek filled the air and he stumbled backwards, leaving the syringe dangling from his wife’s throat. Her hand tore at her skin to remove the needle as she spun around, her gaze landing on the man who
had pricked her with a needle. “What have you done?”

“Gloria,” his voice was breathless as he watched recognition fill her hazel eyes; her hazel eyes. It worked; all of his years weren’t wasted! His lips trembled upwards in a
joyous smile as he held his hands out to her, “Gloria, my love.”

“What have you done?” she repeated, clutching her stomach as cramps wracked her body. “Stephen, what have you done?”

“I’ve saved you,” he said softly, suddenly unsure as he watched pain ripple through his wife’s body. Why would Celeste’s blood do this to his beloved wife? Didn’t it create DNA in an
Apocritum
?

“You… idiot!” she gasped out, clawing at her skin, trying to rip it off to stop the burning. Her eyes grew larger as fangs erupted from her mouth. “You’ve destroyed me!”

“Gloria!” he cried out in alarm as her body twisted and altered its shape. She lifted her head and he took a step backwards as she snarled at him. Blood oozed from her self-inflicted wounds and she stalked closer, her nostrils flaring as she breathed him in. She wasn’t a
Thraell
, she was something else.

“What is that… thing?” the Queen asked with icy disdain as
Apocritae
surrounded her, shielding her from harm.

Stephen was only peripherally aware that anyone else
was in the room, that they were moving away from the monster he created. “Gloria, it’s me; it’s Stephen.”

A vicious growl erupted from the beast as she lunged forward and ripped his throat open. Gurgled sounds came from his neck as he tried to speak through the blood. His last thoughts were of the fact that
Calices
were not
Apocritae
. They had DNA; they would not have the same reactions. He was a fool to believe he could save his wife. “O…i…a.”

The Queen stared in clinical interest as the
Calix
ravaged her former husband. Interesting; she hadn’t expected that to happen. There was something very pleasant about seeing such viciousness, especially when it took care of a thorn that was going to have to be removed anyway. Perhaps she was going to have to reconsider her position on the girl. No, she had promised Adam that she would wait for word from him, discover if the wrinkle was taken care of with the destruction of the abomination in the girl’s womb. She did not want to lose another son over something so trivial but Auberon could be so stubborn. It wouldn’t hurt to throw her son a pet.

Without giving any more thought to the girl strapped to the table or the bloody mess of the slave, she removed herself from the room, finding sanctuary in her inner
chambers until Adam returned. Her lovely pets would offer her solace on such a trying morning.