Blood Life (32 page)

“Mother, you cannot deny who you are, nor can you deny the fact that you are and always will be responsible for me and my actions. All that has happened, and all that is yet to come, becomes your burden. Taking Alethea was only a preview of the pain I plan to inflict on you for disowning your only son. I have much more in store for all of you. Once I can restrain her enough to take her, I will plant my seed and she will belong to me. As long as I have her, you cannot hurt me; isn’t that the case? I hold the key, mother; I hold a key within the key. When you decide the time is right to fight me, I will call on the Kriestos for assistance against you, just as I am sure you will call on some higher beings. But, please remember, this is your decision. My heart knows no love and my soul will never find peace. Face you are part of me; face your immortal mistake and come for me. We are waiting . . .” -L

She dropped the letter to the floor and covered her face as it crunched against new tears. Roman lifted his arm and placed it gently across her shoulders, pulling her into him. “I had hoped there would have been some sort of clue as to her whereabouts,” she managed between sobs. “It was only full of threats; if he plants his seed, I don’t know what we’ll do. He may already have done so. She may be ruined—he may have already won,” she finished, staring down at the note.

Roman pulled her closer and she rested her head on his chest, grounding her anger more as she squeezed him. “I can only hope that was a threat,” Roman said through clenched teeth.

Devendra pulled away and looked into Roman’s face sadly.

Ignoring her knowing look, he continued: “We are not completely powerless, Devendra. What about Lillith?”

“I have already tried to contact her. She will not respond,” she admitted.

“You sound like you’ve already given up on her.” He looked at her in disappointment.

She shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t do that. I just feel helpless.”

“Imagine how she feels,” Roman countered, immediately feeling bad for saying such a thing. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to imply anything. I know,” she said, smoothing her hair back from her tear-streaked face.

Roman concentrated his rage on Lokee, tucking it away in his heart for use at the appropriate time. “I have never seen you so bad, Devendra. You must know that we will overcome this somehow. You must know that,” he said, standing to face her.

She looked up into his warm eyes. He pet her hair back from her face as he whispered, “shh . . .” several times to comfort her. “It will all be alright, darling. We will beat him; this is all part of the plan.” He smiled down at her. “I know we will win, we just have to try to ride this part out. Then, we will seek guidance again from the Mother. She will lead us to Alethea eventually.”

“No, you don’t understand, Roman,” she explained, anxiously. “Lillith has denied granting assistance. She has made that clear to me so that I can clean up my own mess. I am doomed and I have ruined Alethea’s immortal life. She will never live through Lokee’s attacks!”

Devendra turned her back to him and paced the room frantically, mumbling to herself angrily. She stopped to look out the window again, to see if anything had changed, to search for clues. “I just feel so defenseless. I feel incredibly guilty, and it has all been because of my mistakes!” Her face was crunched and twisted in stress.

There was a knock at the door downstairs, and Roman froze, looking to Devendra for a response. “Don’t answer it,” she ordered.

“But what if it’s about Alethea?” he argued.

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she made her way to the door. Floating down the steps so as not to be detected by the person on the doorstep, she peered through the stained glass to identify their unexpected visitor. “It’s him!” she whispered. Roman was only a few stairs above her, breathing heavily as the adrenaline coursed through his veins.

“Answer it,” he said, flatly, containing his desire to blow away the door and rip Lokee to shreds right there.

She nodded and descended the last few steps to the front door. She stopped short, raising her right index finger in the air. Turning around to face Roman, with her eyes wide and joyous, she blurted, “He has taken her to the castle! Back in time to Morgan’s castle!”

“How do you know that?” Roman asked, trying to calm his palpitating heart.

“I just know,” she insisted. “It came to me in a flash!” she said, laughing out of breath. Her hands were holding on to her chest as she gleamed at Roman. “We need to go straight to Aqua and find that porthole!”

“Open the door,” said Roman, closing his eyes and smiling, relieved that Devendra had received the message loud and clear. He knew in his soul that it was sent by Alethea. He sensed that she must have finally focused her power correctly and let them know where Lokee was keeping her.

Devendra opened the door to find a messenger in place of Lokee. Her eyes darted, combing the area for him. She knew it was a trick, so her motions were cautious. “Yes,” she inquired, studying the strange person on the doorstep.

He was a short, bulky man, with a receding hairline and no visible lips. His little round head rested comfortably on his shoulders, revealing no neck to plunge into. It looked like it took tremendous effort to lift his eyes up to her waiting face. “T-th-this note wa-was to be d-de-de-deliv-v-vered to,” he stuttered, hopelessly.

“Is this some sort of joke,” she asked, coldly, and grabbed the crumpled note from the stranger’s grasp. “Leave now and don’t remember any of this,” she demanded.

The little man ran as fast as his short legs could carry him. Devendra shut the door as she began to read the note. “It’s from him,” she confirmed.

She continued to read to herself and Roman watched in anticipation of what she saw. Her face lit up and she finally looked up at Roman, who now sat on the staircase. She sat down beside him and took his hand. “I am so sorry for having doubted you. He has asked us to join them for dinner,” she paused, “in Alethea’s honor.”

“Why? Are you sure he will meet us?” he asked, bewildered.

“Yes, I am. He says there is an important announcement to be made. He claims there will be no warriors or fighting on this night. Only us and them. He says that once we leave with the intent to join them tomorrow night, the Moon will guide us to the porthole,” she explained, half-smiling. “I believe him, I really do, because I know him. This is something he would do, especially since he has the power over us; he has Alethea. According to him, he is the stronger one, and he would want to do nothing more than gloat at the fact that it took us so long to figure out where they were.” Devendra looked quite sure of herself. “Besides, it’s all about the woman he ‘loves,’ isn’t it?”

“Meaning who? You, Lorien, or Alethea?” Roman squinted at his question, uncomfortable imagining anyone else sharing the love between him and Alethea.

“All of us, I would say. The dinner is tomorrow night, so let’s get some nourishment and rest up. Who knows what is going to happen?” she said, and ran up the steps to her bedroom.

Roman remained on his perch, quietly, pondering the message. He did not know Lokee very well, so his instincts were to proceed with care. If they do not abide by his wishes, it could mean he’d lose Alethea again, this time forever.

Forty Six

That night, Roman was roused by the sound of an eerie voice. He opened his sleepy eyes and jumped up in bed.

Roman . . .

Sitting erect in his bed, he stared at the bedroom doorway. Slowly, lazily, an apparition formed. After straining a few seconds for focus in the dark, he swung his legs over the side of the bed excitedly.

“Alethea,” he cried.

At the moment his lips formed her name, the image shifted into another form. A beautiful, light-haired woman with deep-set, sad eyes. Devendra rushed in through the door that connected their bedrooms, bursting through the being, causing it to sweep around and over her like steam. “No, Roman!” she yelled, throwing her hands out in front of him.

She took in a gasp, collapsing to the ground.

“Devendra!” He jumped out of bed and rushed toward her. She stirred. “Devendra?”

“What happened,” she said, rubbing her right eye with the back of her hand.

“What do you mean? You don’t know?”

“Who did I run through?”

“Alethea! She was here!”

“No,” she insisted, struggling from her setback. “No, Roman, that was NOT Alethea! It was a trick, and one that I was not supposed to walk through.”

Roman was puzzled. “I guess it did change at the end, right before you came in.”

“What did it change to?”

Devendra pushed herself up, looking stridently into Roman’s eyes. She’d shaken the feeling of sharing her shell with another spirit. She knew the feeling well, but to possess one as strong as Devendra was a mistake for any being to embark on. She always won, and by the time she finished with them, they often ended up in Nothingness. Nobody wanted that, dead or alive.

“Roman, what did it look like? Lorien, perhaps?” she suggested, realizing the truth of it. “It was Lorien and she was trying to trick you into believing she was Alethea! But why?”

“That was her? The infamous Lorien,” he asked, not quite sure if he believed it.

“Yes,” she answered, standing up, “I’m pretty sure it was.” Her nightgown rustled around her figure, working to regain its composure around the curves of her body. The mirage reappeared in the doorway behind her. Sensing the invading presence, Devendra whipped around furiously.

“She’s back!” Roman’s voice was higher than he had expected. He moved toward it cautiously.

Lorien’s face twisted in sadness when she noted the look of rage in Roman’s eyes. She cried a silent soul cry. “Alligator tears,” Roman hissed.

Keeping her eyes on the mourning image, Devendra grabbed his arm. “Wait,” she said, “we will go together. The figure turned itself back into Alethea and smiled innocently.

The next 50 feet to the door were the most anxious steps Roman had ever taken in his life. The phantom never left the spot it illuminated; instead, it hung there like an ugly painting, filling in space as if it mattered to anyone. The small gestures it made seemed dreamy and out-of-touch. Despite Lorien’s form only moments ago, of Alethea, Roman faltered.

“Don’t believe it!” Devendra begged. “Roman!”

Lorien laughed, a long, daunting sound that ricocheted off the walls around them, echoing faster and faster, then disappearing in a snap, leaving behind a tinge of reverberation in Roman’s ears. Devendra closed her eyes and exhaled.

It was official.  Lorien was back.

Roman stood in mid-step, sweat beading about his face.

“Why?” he asked Devendra, quietly. “What does she get out of that cruelty?” he demanded.

“Roman, look at me,” Devendra insisted, placing her hands on either side of his face, steadying his gaze on her. “Lorien is a lost vampire soul who has been stewed in the darkness of her own bitterness for far too long to care how her actions affect others. She found it funny, a game, to tease you. Why? I don’t know. Was it for Lokee? I don’t know that either. But if you really want to know what I think . . .”

“Please, not now.” Roman lifted her hands from his face gently and moved back toward his bed. Crawling in, he pulled the covers up to his face, lying flat on the mattress without the support of a pillow. “I hated that. It was very cruel.”

Devendra closed her eyes in the darkness.  “Yes, it was. Lorien is back, but not yet in the flesh, so I can’t say for sure that Lokee even knows, let alone sent her to do his bidding.”

“How can you say that?” he argued, looking over at the door again.

Devendra walked over to the door without answering him.

“Devendra,” he called after her, but she left the room.

He swallowed hard, understanding that sometimes it was better to just listen to an elder and take their wisdom for what it was. He knew she was right, that Lorien was just being cruel, and probably not even at Lokee’s command, but he had wished so much it was Alethea that he’d almost fallen for the trick not once, but twice! He was ashamed of himself, of his lack of self-control. You’d think after centuries living one lifetime a man would be able to keep his emotions in check. If it was a test, he’d failed miserably.

Devendra returned to him moments later with an antique, leather-bound book in her arms. “I want you to look at something,” she explained, sitting down next to him and flipping on the bedside lamp. She leafed gingerly through the pages, careful not to tear any of them.

Roman sat up and readied himself to read what she would show him. “This is a passage from the Vampire Book of the Undead, or the Vampire Bible, which was written by Silas and Lillith—the union that started us all, Roman.”

“I’ve never heard of this Book before! We have a Bible?” Intently, Roman picked up the Book and inspected it. The cover was made of the softest deep mahogany leather he had ever seen. Its condition was better than he would have imagined due to its age. It looked as if it’d been printed only the day before. He ran his fingers along the smooth, crisp typeface. He imagined the Book dated back to B.C.E.; Christ would not have been an inkling in the imaginations of the Christians that long ago. Could this have been before the dinosaurs and the cavemen? Before the Earth was one with the Sky, or the land separated from the sea. Roman’s fascination grew as he started to read what Devendra had plucked out for him within the Book’s golden-lined pages.