Love Entwined (36 page)

“Master. See what I have for you.” She pointed toward Varuk and the other brown robes below. “They have forsaken you,” she proclaimed with disgust.

“Not worthy.” The fire dragon’s words rumbled throughout the chamber. He swooped down, soaring around the pit in a show of anger. When he came within a few feet of the ground, she jumped off the bed of fire.

Roman caught her as she stumbled onto the ground and dragged her behind a drum. He felt her skin, her pants which felt warm, but were not burned. She was unharmed. Unscarred. Perfect.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” Roman pulled her to the stairs.

Chief Bryant was already dragging Dr. Frein up the steps.

The fire dragon opened its mouth and fiery blood spewed the brown robes as they scattered. The dragon roared, and caught Varuk in his mouth. Blood splattered the walls as the ancestors sang what sounded like an ancient hymnal. The tortured screams continued as the fire dragon caught another brown robe, and another, until the walls dripped blood.

“Look. The jewels are glowing.” Roman held onto her hand and picked up his pace.

Amelie hurried behind him. “They are ready now, infused with his blood,” she said in English. “Anyone who wears them will be the fire demon’s servant and live forever to do his will.”

“Master!” the last brown robe alive shouted. “He is a warrior.”

Halfway up the steps, Roman and Amelie turned.

The brown robe shook off his hood and came out from where he was hiding behind a drum.

Emil Garamonde spat on the ground and pointed toward Roman. “He is not worthy!”

“You are dead!” Roman shouted, taking the steps two at a time. He slipped down a few steps slick with blood and held onto the wall the rest of the way down. “They buried you!”

“He has a ring,” Amelie came down the steps behind him, but Chief Bryant reached the bottom step first.

“Stay here,” Chief Bryant said.

She ignored him. “The ring must have been buried with him.” Running forward, she took Roman’s arm. “He must be Damek. Lord Alsborough.”

Roman plowed into Emil as the fire dragon swooped over them, and they rolled on the ground toward the edge of the fiery pit.

Chief Bryant trained his gun on Emil as they fought, but could not get a clear shot.

Emil’s fist came up for a punch and Roman palmed it. He held Emil down with an elbow to the stomach and pulled the dragon ruby off his finger. Almost as an afterthought, Roman punched him in the eye. Emil moaned, covering his face.

Chief Bryant stood over them as Roman tore open Emil’s robe and stared at his smooth, unscarred chest. “He is whole again.”

She put herself between them and the fire dragon. “Master,” she said in the ancient language. “This warrior is ours now.” She touched Roman’s shoulder. “He follows our commands. But this one,” She gestured in Emil’s direction. “I thought he was Damek who had returned to me.”

“He is not Damek,” the fire dragon roared.

Amelie braced herself against the shaking ground. “He defiled me!” she screamed, walking slowly backward toward the edge of the pit. “The warrior saved me from him.”

The fire dragon swooped down and plucked Emil up from beneath Roman.

Roman rolled out of the way, knocking into Chief Bryant as the fire dragon soared above the pit, chomping on Emil, who wailed.

Amelie stood at the edge of the pit and closed her eyes.

Her sisters knew what she was about to do and they were fighting her. They continued their killing hymnal in a singsong voice.

She raised her hands and they were forced to cease their chant, and wait for the next command.

She swayed to the drumbeat in her mind, where silken veils swirled around High Priestess Isolde, who danced to the frenzied beat eons ago. The words came to her.

“First of the Blood, return. Return for an age, Master. Return.”

A few of her sisters obediently took up the chant, but too many of them remained silent. Their anger came in black waves behind her closed eyelids and she felt pressure, a weight on her chest.

Would they disobey her? She did not know if they would take control and entice the fire dragon into more killing or help Isolde rise to the surface again…

Were they not bound to her, the living High Priestess? Their age was over. They did not rule anymore. She was their host, they must obey, she thought.

She chanted the ancient language louder, desperately shouting now, silently praying for Roman and Chief Bryant’s lives if the ancestors did not heed her command.

“First of the Blood, return. Return for an age, Master. Return.”

The black anger lightened as more of her sisters joined the chant. Their voices grew louder in the chamber until the pressure lifted away from her chest, and she knew that for all their resistance they were bound to obey her every command. They were all with her now and she shook with the power behind the command.

With a triumphant roar, the fire dragon swallowed Emil and swooped down into the pit, soaring down, down, into the depths of the earth. The fire in the pit retreated with the dragon.

Roman and Chief Bryant ran to the edge of the pit, watching the light fade.

The fire dragon’s roar was distant and no longer shook the chamber, and then it was gone.

She stared into the black hole as one by one her sisters departed, leaving her weaker, more human. Their goodbyes were sorrowful. For all their earlier frustration with her, they were loath to leave now. There was so much they could accomplish in this weak age of man and had already begun to use technology against him, they intimated with each farewell caress. As an Artisan, she was born to the jewels. Her choice of trade in this life had been no accident. She was one of them and their kind was superior. With her help, they would rule the world again. With the blood jewels.

“
Il Dragone
,” Amelie murmured, falling forward into blackness.

Graubünden, Switzerland – June 12, 1988

“Amelie.” Roman squeezed her hand.

She opened her eyes slowly, sensing so much light around her.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed. A hospital bed. The room was as white and sterile as her old office at Penrods.

“There you are.” He bent and kissed her. “You know, you spend more time sleeping with that creative mind of yours than you do with me. Should I be jealous?”

“Where am I? What about Castle Zuoz?”

“Shhh.” He glanced over his shoulder as a nurse came in the room to examine her. He stood by the window with a view of the snow-covered Alps and waited until the nurse left.

“We don’t have much time. The doctor will be in next, and I don’t think he likes me.” He returned to the bedside. “He’s calling it mental exhaustion. Too much excitement after waking from the coma. Blames me for it.”

“Castle Zuoz—”

“Death by wrecking ball, blood rubies and all. I’ve arranged it.”

“How?”

“I bought Castle Zuoz from Garamonde’s estate.”

“When did you have time to do that?” At his look, she asked warily, “How long have I been out this time?”

“Long enough for Dr. Frein to be cared for and discharged. Four days.”

Roman stopped talking and nodded to the doctor as he came in. The doctor returned the nod, just barely.

“Ms. Laurent, good to have you with us again. I want you to remain here for a few days. On bed rest.” The doctor glanced at Roman. “I hear you’ve flown to France, England, New York and now here, all in a matter of weeks. The party at the castle must have sent you over the edge. We’ll run a few tests and then we will see about letting you go home.”

She kept quiet through another examination. After a few questions, the doctor made notes in her chart, and left.

“Party?” she asked.

Roman smiled at the doctor’s back as he closed the room door behind him. “He thinks I’ve corrupted you. There must have been a party going on if I was invited to the castle and you passed out from exhaustion. Oh, and he heard that there was so much noise coming from the castle that it shook the hills.”

She tried to sit up, and he put a hand on her shoulder.

“Stay down, or the good doctor may try to convince you to get a restraining order against me. A dead girlfriend, a dead ex-business rival, his girlfriend, Terrence…and now Michel Garamonde. I guess my reputation precedes me. Thank God, we had the presence of mind to hide the bodies of Chief Bryant’s men in the sacrificial chamber before authorities stormed the castle. They’ve since been flown home on the jet. Chief Bryant called in a favor to avoid the circus this could have turned into. He told the families the men died in the line of duty.”

“What about the brown robes? Are they still there?”

“We didn’t see any more after we left the chamber.”

“But there are hundreds of them. Or were, long ago,” she murmured. She was silent for a moment. “They are in hiding, like Emil was.”

“Beauty, do you have any idea why Emil was ‘killed’ that first time at Diefritz Plaza?”

“Someone wanted him out of the way. Someone who knew he would have to go into hiding after his ‘death’ and never be seen again in this lifetime.

“It was one of them. They are smart and patient.
Il Dragone
will not come out into the open until it is safe again. They will wait until people forget what happened here, or until those involved die a natural, human death. When the world feels safe again,
il Dragone
will come.” She could not go on with her dry throat. “Is there water?”

He poured her a glass from the pitcher on the bedside table. When she’d had enough, he took it from her.

“Chief Bryant’s men. Are they all gone?”

“They didn’t hear anything outside until the ground started shaking. They thought it was an earthquake. When they couldn’t get in, they called for help. We were out of the chamber by then and opened the doors for them. It was a while before the authorities arrived, but when they did, they went through the entire castle, save for the chamber we never told them about, and found no one. Not even that one maid Varuk summoned could be located.”

“At least Michel Garamonde and Varuk are gone forever.” She closed her eyes.

“So is Emil.” Roman went over to the window and closed the blinds.

“
Merci, mon amour
,” she sighed. The brightness in the room was beginning to give her a headache. “But Lord Alsborough, Damek, is still out there, somewhere. The fire demon said we would meet again.”

Roman took her hand. “He isn’t at the castle. Maybe this is not the lifetime you will meet. Although, I wish it was. I want to be there, and he needs to die once and for all.”

She kept her eyes closed because she knew he was wrong. She felt it.

“Dr. Frein has been staying at the castle with us.”

Her eyes flew open. “You have been sleeping there?”

“Amelie, there are weapons and armor, and paintings in the castle that I recognize. I’m sending everything of value home, for research. Dr. Frein was researching artifacts he found in the castle when they discovered his real purpose was to investigate my father’s murder. We should never have sent him in alone.”

“You didn’t know, Roman.”

“At least Dr. Frein has learned quite a bit about the castle and Garamonde, and wants to help. We’ve got three teams there now, a total of thirty men. A bedroom for each with more to spare. And I’m sure the media will be handling surveillance for us party animals, so we won’t be alone in the demon’s lair.” He caressed her furrowed brow. “Amelie, I want you to go home. Now, don’t argue with me—”

“You’re right.”

“Come again?”

“Castle Zuoz is dangerous. I am dangerous when I’m there, so close to the ancestors and the fire dragon. But he can’t enter this world without me.”

She tried to sit up again and this time he pulled her into a hug.

“Have you ever encountered the ancestors outside of Castle Zuoz?”

“Not in this lifetime or Jacqueline’s. But I can’t speak for other lives I don’t remember.” She leaned her head against his chest. “She almost killed you. I am afraid she will come back.”

Even now, she was afraid to speak the High Priestess’s name.

He feasted on her lips. “You didn’t allow her to kill me. You fought her and won, love.” He arranged the pillows behind her and laid her back down. “I’ll be home after the demolition. Go home and plan our wedding.”

St. Clair Manor, North Yorkshire, England – June 16, 1988

Roman led the way up to the attic. When he reached the landing, he kept right on walking into the darkness.

Amelie found a string hanging from the ceiling and pulled. The light the single bulb gave off wasn’t very promising.

He looked back. “Sorry, I come up here and sit sometimes. Well, quite often, actually. It’s the only hiding place James hasn’t discovered yet.”

“You sit here, in the dark?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be hiding if the lights were on, would I?”

“You mean light, singular. You know, we should have met much earlier in your life, before you became such a gloomy, eccentric billionaire.”

He laughed at the look she gave him. He walked back to her, pulling another string along the way for a very little more light. “You can banish the fire demon to hell but are afraid of wine cellars and musty, old attics. And you think
I’m
crazy? Well, all I can say is we’re a match made in hel—”

“Heaven,” she finished for him, and sashayed those luscious hips past a suit of armor.

Grinning, he took her hand. “Hold on tight.”

They walked past the boxes of his youth and made their way deeper into the attic.

He spent some time with her at Grandfather Ian’s ship models and let her reminisce over Captain Cardiff’s model of
The Raven
, but then took her hand again.

“We have plenty of time to go through all of the Captain’s things. You need to see this.”

They walked further along, past the ship’s wheel and turned a corner.

Under an eave, a space had been cleared for wrapped canvases and boxes.

He opened a cabinet, took out one of two leather-bound volumes, and began to read. “Jamaica, West Indies. I thought it was over, but they came for me. It was the maid who came to my room the night before we departed. She begged to come to England with me. She is one of them. They have watched me in secret on this island, waited for me. They used my weakness against me for I have surely been to hell with this beautiful maid many, many times. She drugged my whiskey and when I fell asleep, gathered my things. Now they hold me prisoner on my own ship. They have chartered a course for England, the evil lot of them. God help us all.”