Blood Life (36 page)

Inside Alethea’s womb lay magic she could never imagine, magic that was only heard of through stories and dreams. This was no ordinary feeling, and Alethea’s instincts were so strong they overwhelmed her last bit of logic. The new life carried no evil, nor did this unimaginable magic.

This had been Alethea’s battle, to convince Devendra of the situation she was so terribly lost in. To make her realize the importance of birthing that baby with love and support. Then, perhaps, Devendra would see with her own eyes what Alethea had felt since the night of the battle over a month ago. If only she could surround Devendra with the essence of the baby’s life force, she would know that it would be blasphemous to destroy her without a chance.

Her?

That was the first time Alethea referred to the child as being of either sex. Her. A baby girl to raise and call her own. Part of her.

Her other self.

NO! Alethea shouted inside the barriers of her mind. I will not allow death to claim her!

If only Alethea could find her voice. Instead, she started to buck and twist in agony under her binds. Fighting for what was hers, fighting for both of them. If her baby was killed, then she would follow. Bound to the altar by Devendra’s hand for not submitting crazed her all the more. She understood that she had not done this out of spite, but rather, “for her own good.”

It was safe, in Devendra’s opinion, to keep Alethea under her watchful eye at all times. To prevent her from doing harm to herself, because she knew Alethea would rather die with her baby then witness her unjust death. Without a chance, without a glimpse of life in Alethea’s nurturing arms. She would flee if given the chance, from both of them; she would run and save their souls.

The whole scene reminded Alethea of the fatal mistake Devendra had made herself. The mistake that doomed them all until Lokee’s death. Devendra may be worthy of Lillith’s love and power, but she still hadn’t the right to judge Alethea’s Fate.

What had Lillith thought about all of it? Did She approve of the baby’s murder? Didn’t She allow Lokee to live as long as he did, and cause as much damage, for this purpose—to create this life?

Alethea recognized Lillith as the Great Mother of The Combined, and she understood that Her decisions had a purpose. Why was She going to allow this to happen? It made no sense.

Devendra may be worthy of the Mother’s magic, but neither of them had the right to judge Alethea’s Fate. She knew what waited inside of her; the feeling had turned from evil to light.

She had no right!

Alethea struggled to free herself from the constraints. She was stripped naked and tied down, being purified and cleansed in preparation of the ritual. Roman watched in terror, with arms folded, from across the room. His tear-streaked face marked the pain he felt in being powerless in Alethea’s defense. He was afraid.

Coward! she thought bitterly and immediately regretted it. He read her like a book. The look in her eyes as she stared at him softened. She gave in to tears, no longer having a grip on her outward emotions.

In her head, she continued to scream in defiance. Her throat burned too much to actually make any sounds audible to the room. Flames were forced down her throat earlier by Devendra. It was a witch’s belief that fire chased away evil. Fire was used often to cleanse the possessed without their destruction, like a wall of fire around the unfortunate one. Devendra was a most dominant sorceress before giving herself to Lillith, made all the more powerful afterward. Her energy drew the Mother to her without restrictions, and Devendra accepted without regret.

Being a witch beforehand taught Devendra the courage and belief needed to attain fulfillment. She knew of all the tales and warnings. She was aware of those who did not take kindly to women with herbs that could heal the sick or soothe the poor. The fact that they did not fall ill themselves caused much disparagement. These women were usually burned at the stake or hung by the neck. This was, in the Christian eye, a way for them to repent.

Fire chases away evil. Water purifies the soul.

They were forced to admit, against their will, that they were “the devil’s whores.” Sinners! That is how witches were thanked for curing the unprivileged.

Even then, Devendra was mighty. With Lillith’s assistance and protection always surrounding her, a non-believer was never able to destroy her. Devendra was worshipped by them all: Atheists, Christians, Roman Catholics, Jews, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Muslims, whoever crossed her path. She was always the one who could not be hunted; rather, she hunted those who preyed upon the innocents, even when she was captured and thrown in jail, tortured and beaten, and finally “executed.” Instead of being destroyed; rather than giving up her name, she was willing to die for her family name, but it was her family that saved her in the end.

Alethea struggled not to believe Devendra was conspiring to destroy her now, that she was her family. It seemed impossible that Devendra could be capable of such a thing. But through it all, even in the bound state she held her, Alethea trusted Devendra with all her being.

Still, the baby could not die. Alethea was willing to do anything to prevent it. If turning against Devendra was the only way, then so be it. She would turn against Devendra
and
Roman.

Alethea closed her eyes as Devendra entered the candlelit room and moved gracefully toward the table. Alethea’s ivory skin sparkled as the flickering lights seduced her. A flush of desire washed over her as she opened her eyes and turned away from Devendra’s approach. Devendra was Beauty, and true Beauty had the power to soothe Alethea’s pain if only she would give in to it. The torment threatened to swallow her whole.

Alethea looked up at Roman who, in obvious distress, watched Devendra watching Alethea. Her hair hung loosely about her shoulders, tumbling down her back. A silky, black veil of hair fell down in front of her, covering one breast as she climbed onto the table and over Alethea. She felt hands gently press into her abdomen, tenderly searching for the baby. Alethea moaned, writhing against her touch, knowing exactly what she intended to do. Devendra caressed her provocatively wanting to give her pleasure in place of pain. Her fingers ran smoothly along Alethea’s waist as her eyes filled with tears. Alethea looked up onto her sapphire eyes. Devendra smiled, her cat eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

She rubbed the soft, warm spot between Alethea’s legs and she arched her back in response. The ties only let her lift up so far. Alethea looked at her, troubled, begging for mercy. Devendra crawled up to Alethea’s face and kissed her eyelids sweetly. She felt the air rush through the room. Roman paced, confused and bewildered.

Sensing her inhibitions collapsing, Alethea struggled to fight the sweetness of Devendra’s touches. She smelled of roses, and her hair tickled Alethea’s chest as she swished it back and forth across it. She stared into Devendra’s hungry face, for a moment, studying the contours of her magnificent jaw line. She was such a strong woman, even in this sensual state; she displayed strength not worth challenging. Alethea was going to give in to her seduction, no matter how she pretended not to want it. Devendra was pure Beauty—her touch, an innocence not yet defined in their time. She dominated Alethea, making her a slave who would enjoy the affection and tenderness whether she wanted to or not.

 Devendra kissed Alethea’s half-open mouth, gingerly, hesitating for the chance to steal her breath. They shared air for the next three breaths, and then Devendra withdrew, looking straight into Alethea’s eyes. She hovered over her for an instant as her expression turned from utter desire to complete horror. It took only an instant before she jumped off of her and landed clumsily on the floor beside the table. Feeling rejected, Alethea searched her for an explanation.

“I don’t believe it.” Devendra scratched her hair away from her clammy face. “No! No, it can’t be,” she raved, starting to join Roman’s pacing. She shook her head firmly, closing her eyes to reflect on what she had just witnessed in Alethea’s breath.

“What are you talking about?” Alethea asked, pulling at her binds, wanting desperately to sit up. “Let me up already!”

Roman walked over, quietly, and placed his hands on her shoulders. He kneaded them carefully, as they both waited for Devendra to explain her vision to them.

“Devendra?” Roman prodded.

“No,” she said, swatting at the hand he reached out to her. “I am so sorry, so very sorry,” she continued, looking at Alethea again. “I did not see it. I just didn’t know it was possible.” Her eyes welled with tears. “Please, Alethea,” she rushed forward, picking up her athame and cutting her loose. “Please find it in your surviving heart to forgive me.”

Devendra knelt humbly before Alethea, her head bowed, furiously mumbling a prayer to the Mother. She slowly rocked herself back and forth, sobbing and praying.

Alethea sat up, massaging her wrists, relieved to have been set free from the binds. Looking down at Devendra’s sorrowful face, she was heartbroken for whatever she had done to make her so upset. All at once, Alethea was able to forgive Devendra’s intentions because she suddenly understood her trauma. She understood what she had seen in her breath.

The baby was saved.

“Life, death, and rebirth are inevitable.”

–Rig Veda

Fifty One

Her dreams were hasty that night. Alethea lay awake, avoiding them as much as possible, fitting herself against Roman’s back. Pushing herself against him, wishing she could be inside of him, Alethea yearned to be at ease. The nightmares ceased to disturb her any longer, and perhaps that was the reason for her anxiety and insomnia. Normally, Lokee haunted her nightly, ritually. Not anymore.

That night felt different. Every glimpse of rest tossed Alethea into another inconceivable dream. She was restless and the baby felt like it was growing larger by the minute. The ache in her belly begged her to feed, but too exhausted to fathom hunting, she merely tucked herself closer to Roman. The baby started kicking, hard. Alethea silently asked her to calm down and help her rest. She knew how connected they were, how they shared thoughts, only the baby’s mind was progressing at an obscene speed. Alethea tried to convince herself that it was only her imagination. Of course every mother-to-be expects their baby to be born a genius, but this mother-to-be was a vampire. That fact made all fears possible. Alethea’s baby girl was destined to be very powerful, of that she was certain.

She wallowed in her stress. It wasn’t as if she were abandoning her hopes of raising the baby, Alethea was only afraid she would come too soon. The baby girl pushed for life, maturing rapidly. Alethea needed the chance to prepare for her arrival and make certain the vampire world was ready to receive her. Alethea could already feel her outline along the outside of her bulging belly. Only a little over a month and the baby was already distinct.

Alethea wondered what fluid her sack held. Surely not water as a mortal woman, more probably blood. The blood drained from her veins and into that baby’s layer of protection. Alethea wondered if she had developed little fangs and could eat through the sack at any time. Alethea wondered if . . . she did not want to wonder anymore. She just wanted to relax, sleep, and be at peace.

Suddenly, Alethea stood up, balancing her weight.

Wait! She didn’t show; that bulge was not there earlier!

Alethea started to panic, bumping into furniture as she made her way to the bathroom. Once inside, she hastily bent over the tub to draw a bath. She would try to escape her anxiety by submerging herself in the sensations of a steaming hot bath.

She forced herself to take in a deep, refreshing breath and wiggled out of her slip. Turning to face herself in the mirror, she smiled and rubbed her belly again, finding humor in all her pre-mother worries. “We will be just fine, won’t we,” she said to the reflection in the mirror, before lowering herself into the welcoming water.