Blood Life (25 page)

Thirty Six

Roman and Alethea walked together down the back steps of the cottage to the sand below. She stood, admiring the mystifying colors of the sunset. Purple and pink hues danced together as yellow and orange fought to blend in. The sunset was more breathtaking than it ever had been to her human eyes.

Roman let go of her hand and wandered over to a large rock that was situated above a small cave. She held her spot on the sand, sinking down to her knees to find comfort. The beauty surrounded her, holding on as if never to let her free. It was a profound sense of being alive that she felt, even though she knew she was technically dead. In all her glory, her thoughts turned to their situation at hand.

They needed Devendra.

She glanced over at Roman, but he was already deep in meditation, silently calling to Devendra; begging her to return again. Alethea sat Indian-style, focusing on Devendra’s face, her presence.

Alethea closed her eyes to concentrate, breathing slowly and deeply in and out. She inhaled the salty sea air, filling her, feeling her body tingle as she relaxed deeper into her own rumination.

Alethea prayed to Devendra silently, positively, letting her know it was for her benefit to return. When she finished her call, she tried to open her eyes.

They wouldn’t open.

Alethea suddenly felt restrained; someone or something held her eyes shut. It was painful. She felt that her eyes would burst if the pressure was not released.

She stiffened as hands started brushing all over her face and body. She sensed Lokee in her space, but he wasn’t alone. She tried to scream for Roman, but was unsure if sound resonated from her vocal chords.

There were no comforting hands or voices of reassurance. There was no substance. She floated, suspended somewhere she was not familiar with. The horror of it was quickly consuming her. She struggled to move her hands to her eyes, wanting to rip the strange hands from them to relieve the pain. But they were heavy, full of sand!

In terror, she fought with all her strength against the illusion. Slowly and shakily, her hands moved to her eyes, but found empty sockets.

Her eyes were gone!

Her head started to disappear, her body. There was no longer a sandy beach around her. She wondered if those were even her hands feeling the nothingness that was supposed to be her body. Unseen forces violated her, relentlessly manipulated her mind.

She thought she screamed because she felt a rattle in her throat. She reached up to where her throat should have been and again found nothing, though she could still feel the warmth and vibration lingering from her last scream. She bit her tongue, hard, to see if it would bleed, if she could taste it. The ache was all she felt, no tongue for it to emanate from.

“Alethea? Aleeeeeetheaaaaaa . . .”

That was Roman calling her. Could he see her?

“Roman, I’m here.” She wasn’t sure where “here” was but hoped that he did.

Sinister laughter muffled out Roman’s soothing voice; it filled her misplaced ears. Lokee’s joy was touching her with slimy tendrils, satisfied with her alarm.

“You are with me, sweet Alethea. Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

His voice chilled her to the core. His presence was overwhelming; she could feel herself losing control of her consciousness, but she fought as hard as she could to maintain some power.

Perhaps Lokee snatched her soul while she meditated so deeply, trying to call out for Devendra. She left herself wide open, not having learned to keep guarded well enough from harm in that state. Still, it was just her soul suspended in time, wasn’t it? It wasn’t really her.

Or, was it?

Smugly, Lokee continued with his speech. “Don’t you remember The Mark, Alethea, the one that I carved into dear Alexandria?”

He paused. She could hear him breathing, almost feel the warmth of his breath in her face.

She found it hard to swallow the lump of terror in her throat.

“You see,” he went on, “The Mark was put there to lead me to you always.”

In her mind’s eye, she saw him make The Mark in the air before her.

“That is the secret, Alethea. It is the secret to my success against Fate every time I slash lovers and change their destiny.” He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. “Fate is not that influential to the Kriestos, and the Kriestos always prevail in the end. It isn’t the Combined who will be victorious; they haven’t the guts to survive our iniquity. Haven’t you noticed all that we have accomplished? Do you see any of us adversely affected by Fate’s retaliation, or better yet, Lillith’s vengeance?”

The question hung like stale smoke in the space between them. Alethea held her breath to disguise her labored breathing in the deafening silence.

“Please, spare me your whimpering,” he taunted.

“I am not whimpering, you swine!” she yelled in her mind.

Pretending not to have picked this up from her, he rolled his eyes sarcastically. “As for my mother,” he continued, “she will need to die before she gets a chance to convince Lillith to assist in my . . . demise. I know what she has planned for me, of course, but The Mark on your back led me to the very doorway of your spirit; in fact, it holds the door open for me. Sort of like a doorstop, actually!” He cackled outright. “That is all the power one needs to—”

His voice trailed off and Alethea felt an abrupt release from his hold. She was falling fast, away from him, beginning to feel the sensations of her material form returning.

Then there was blackness, and the muffled sounds of Devendra’s chocolate-coated voice.

Thirty Seven

Alethea was snapped back into consciousness by the gentle sweep of Devendra’s hand on her forehead. Roman sat perched at her right, ringing out the cool, herbed-infused washcloth they had been using on her. Her hair and neck were wet, matted and stuck to her. She quickly jumped up and paced the room, panicked and unsure of where she was.

“Alethea, please, get back in bed,” ordered Devendra, in a firm motherly tone. “You need to rest.” She put her arms out to steady her confused fledgling.

Devendra’s words reminded Alethea’s body that it had forgone tremendous strain and was very weak. Her knees buckled. In an instant, Roman was there to catch her from behind, leading her back into the safety of the warm, goose-down comforter.

“How do you feel?” he asked, petting her head after he tucked her back in.

“How should I feel?” she asked, weakly.

Devendra let out a soft, knowing laugh. “Roman, when she is ready, she will let us know,” she persuaded, motioning toward the door. He hesitated, taking a long look at Alethea’s spent body. The shadows under her eyes frightened him—she looked like she hadn’t fed in months, as if she was going to wither away at any moment if he didn’t do something to save her.

Alethea was looking up at him, forcing herself to awaken from her stupor. “Wait,” she called out when Roman rose to leave.

From the doorway, Devendra responded, “Yes?”

Roman turned around and beamed down at Alethea, delighted that she was willing to tell them of her ordeal sooner rather than later. His patience would have gotten the better of him; that much he knew.

“I can talk now; I need to get this out. I don’t want to reflect on it alone,” Alethea said.

Devendra eyed Alethea closely for a second before agreeing. Alethea sat up and got as comfortable as possible, preparing to spill her memory of the incident on them.

Roman and Devendra situated themselves on the bed, quietly, on either side of her, giving her ample time to collect her thoughts and to begin. Finding comfort in their patience and closeness, she took the time she really needed to put the puzzle pieces together.

Alethea took in a deep, calming breath. Upon exhaling, she fixed her gaze at Roman who sat quietly, holding her hand in his. “We were on the beach calling to Devendra,” she started, keeping her eyes fixed on Roman. “You were meditating by the rock, so I dropped down to the sand where I could follow your lead without disturbing you.

“I felt it was the easiest way to find you,” she said, turning her attention to indicate Devendra, “or at the very least have you hear me with confidence. But, as soon as I closed my eyes and opened myself up, I lost control; leaving myself wide open, which left me in Lokee’s reach.”

“Did you see him,” Devendra asked almost impatiently.

“No, but I could hear his voice. I couldn’t feel myself, but I could feel him.” Alethea lifted her hands in front of her face, making fists and relaxing them to see if she had completely regained her motor skills. “My hands were gone, my face,” she was touching her face, “my entire being. I reached up to touch my face but it wasn’t there.” Her heart raced as she recalled the feelings it gave her. “I was completely lost! I thought I was dead!” She spoke with an increasing rush of energy and panic, poking at her face continuously with the tips of her fingers to ensure it was unscathed.

Roman moved to kneel on the floor next to the bed and rested his head on Alethea’s arm. His madness grew with every encounter she had with Lokee. Roman felt defeated even though he hadn’t faced his nemesis yet. Rage surged within him, lingering just below the surface of his sanity.

Alethea understood his feelings, but was on the other side and, for the most part, undefended. She could find no true comfort in his arms until Lokee was gone. “Nothingness. Completely empty,” she finished, closing her eyes, immediately fighting sleep. She struggled to open her eyes.

“Let’s go so she can rest. She will be safe,” whispered Devendra, as she helped Roman up from the floor.

“How can you be sure? What if he has her now?” he said in a panic, looking Alethea’s exhausted form over carefully.

“Roman,” Devendra soothed, putting a finger against his lips to quiet him, tugging his arm slightly, “when I am in her direct presence, he would not dare penetrate the barrier of protection that I cast over her.” Devendra indicated Alethea again quietly, “Look closely,” she pointed to the wall behind her bed. “Do you see the purple-white light hovering above her?” She searched Roman for an answer.

After studying the wall he replied, “Yes,” and sighed with relief.

“Good, now let’s leave her for a while. She really needs to sleep this off.”

Thirty Eight

Devendra led Alethea into the bathroom where the steam swept up and over them as they walked through it. The bath had been drawn by the nonchalant wave of Devendra’s empowered hand. The glow of the water rushing into the porcelain tub reflected on its sides in mystifying shadows that danced and fought to make the most glorious shapes. The warmth soothed Alethea and she quickly undressed to plunge herself into its tranquility.

Once in the heat of the tub, she pondered the thought of asking Devendra more about her past with Lokee. She wondered about joy and love, if those emotions existed between the two of them at any point in time, or if it had always been the hatred they shared now.

Devendra looked at her softly, letting her know it was all right. Losing the nerve to pry, Alethea thought again of how the bath was drawn before they had even reached the room.

“Is it another of your great powers?” Alethea asked, using inflection on the word “great” to give it playful sarcasm. She ran her fingers along the surface of the water, enjoying the gentle swishing sound it made in the silence.

Devendra laughed softly, enjoying the fact that Alethea was feeling comfortable enough to joke around with her. “Yes, I guess you could call it that.” She raised her left eyebrow, studying Alethea. “You could do it too, if given a few lessons,” she offered.

“Roman never mentioned or displayed that gift,” Alethea thought aloud. “Is it the same idea as telekinesis?”

“That is exactly what it is. But there is a very good reason for Roman’s seeming ignorance of the gift.” Devendra leaned in closer to her, as if to hide her next words from his eavesdropping. “Men cannot practice telekinesis with much authority; they never seemed to have the patience or proper focus to do it well. It tends to be more of a woman’s sport.” She sat up against the back of the toilet and sighed. “I guess it isn’t really fair, but men are better at flying than most women. Of course,” she continued, deep in thought, “women are able to fly, it is just more difficult for them to master.” She fixed her gaze toward Alethea again, waiting for feedback.