The First Male (41 page)

Simon spoke to her through the running water and the shower curtain, but her thoughts were on the words he spoke earlier: that he wasn't sure that she would
feel
him; that unnerved her. She had indeed felt him—like she had never felt anything before. What she had felt, what had led her here, was stronger than love and more potent than fear. He had called out to her, she realized. And, she had answered. Was he controlling her? Was her life no longer her own?

Even if that was the case, at this point, she'd willingly sign her life over to him.

After Simon showered, he returned to the bed. He walked with
much more vigor than he had only moments ago. He climbed into the bed and lay on his back. Brooke felt his forehead, which was still hotter than it should have been. She went into the bathroom, took a small washcloth and ran it underneath the cold water. She returned to the room and placed it on Simon's forehead.

She waited a few moments before speaking. “Simon, what's going on? Please, talk to me.”

“I'm . . . becoming . . . ” His words drifted off.

“Becoming? What?” She swallowed hard.

He didn't respond. Instead, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Brooke didn't know what to think or do; but, in spite of the grave warning in her heart, she remained certain that she wanted to be at his side.

Simon leaned forward, with some effort, and placed one hand on her cheek. “Just know that you are safe. I don't care what you see or what you hear, you are safe with me. Can you trust that?”

She shook her head, unconvincingly.

“Baby, I need you to believe in me—in us.”

“I do, it's just that—”

“Trust me, okay? And love me. I will keep you safe from all harm.” When she looked at his face this time, it warmed her. She believed him and she let go of the fear.

“I trust you, baby. I do.”

“Promise me one thing—above all else.”

“Anything.”

“Promise me that whatever happens, whatever I become, that you'll never stop
seeing
me.”

She leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips; not one full of passion or desire, but one that sealed their covenant. “I promise.”

“I don't want you to leave. I want you to be here when I wake up.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

He smiled.

Brooke moved into the living room to let Simon sleep. She poured herself a glass of wine and dropped to the couch. The temperature in the house had leveled off, returning to normal.

Beneath her feet, something moved; more like, slithered.

Instinct told her to yank up her feet from the floor, but panic seized her heart and froze her limbs. She prayed there wasn't a snake near her feet. If she looked down and saw a serpent, she knew she'd faint.

With her heart pounding, she slowly tilted her head downward so that she could see her feet on the floor. She exhaled when she didn't see a snake.

Out of her periphery, she saw something move in the corner near the kitchen. Then, she heard a hiss.

Broooooooooke
.

She screamed. “Who's there?” she asked in a panic as she faced the corner. She didn't want to wait for an answer. She grabbed her jacket and headed toward the front door, picking up her keys from the table. When she tried to open the door, it wouldn't budge. Not an inch. She pulled with more strength than she knew she had, but to no avail.

She turned and ran back into the room, looking for an escape route. She focused her attention on the window. She looked down at the snow-covered ground from the second floor window and contemplated how she could get down.

Broooooooooke
.

In a hurry, she tried to lift the window, but like the door, it
wouldn't open. Tremendous fear gripped her. She sprinted into the kitchen and grabbed a large skillet and raced back to the window. Without hesitation, she threw the pan into the glass, but it didn't break. Or crack. The skillet simply bounced on the window and hit the floor, without so much as making a sound.

She felt defeated. Trapped.

Resigned to her fate, she wiped the tears from her eyes, calmly removed her coat and went back into the living room, picking up her glass of wine and downing the contents in one gulp.

She wasn't going anywhere, just as Simon wanted.

As she sat on the couch she told herself that it was all in her head. All of this was some bizarre waking nightmare and all she had to do was to take control of her reality. There were no snakes; the doors and windows were probably frozen shut; no one was hissing her name. It was all in her head. She took slow, deliberate breaths to calm herself and soon the depressing effects of the wine took hold of her and her eyelids drooped, heavy with fatigue. Before she knew it, her eyes were closed.

“Wake, my child,” a gentle voice called out to Brooke. She opened her eyes and jumped when she saw a woman standing in the living room.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?”

“Don't be scared. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to save you; to save us all.”

“Look, lady, I don't know what's going on—” she said as she looked around the room.

“My name is Adelaide. Adelaide Thibodeaux.” Brooke's heart froze when she heard the name. It was the woman that Simon had been looking for; the one he said he had dreamed about.

“You're Adelaide?
The
Adelaide?”

“Listen to me. I don't have much time. Simon is not to be trusted. The dark in him is strong. You know of the dark of which
I speak, don't you? This wretched storm is because of him; because he lives.” Brooke remained silent, wishing she could disagree. “He frightens you, doesn't he? He frightens us all.”

“He loves me.”

“Still, he will destroy you. It is he that prevents you from leaving this place. His powers have sealed you here. No one can enter or leave this place; it is his will.”

Brooke gasped.

“What has he told you? About who he is? About
what
he is?” Addie asked.

“N-n-nothing.”

Addie stepped closer. “He is the destroyer of worlds. He will kill everyone you know and love. Your mother. Your father. Your brothers and sisters. Everything will burn.”

“No, that's not true. You're lying.”

Addie moved closer to Brooke and took her by the hand. She placed Brooke's hand over her heart. “Here, look into my heart. Know what I know.”

Heat surged through Brooke's body as a rapid-fire succession of horrible images flashed through Brooke's mind.

The world on fire
.

Screaming children
.

Earthquakes swallowing whole cities
.

Bloodied angels falling from a flaming hole in the sky
.

Simon, on a throne in a golden castle, smiling
.

Brooke yanked her hand back. “Make it stop, make it stop!” Tears poured from her eyes. “This isn't true! You're doing this!”

Addie smiled delicately. “What you have seen shall come to pass unless we stop him. You know this. You have
felt
it.”

With trembling lips, Brooke spoke. “H-h-ow. How do we stop him?”

“Not
we
,” Addie said as she pointed her finger at Brooke, “you.”

Brooke awoke with panic in her heart. She quickly looked around the room, searching for the woman she had seen in her dream, but the room was empty. Her heartbeat was rapid; pounding with force in her chest. Even as she pulled herself together, she knew that, though she had been asleep, what happened to her had been real. She was certain of that. Like Simon, she had been visited by Adelaide Thibodeaux in her sleep.

“Brooke,” Simon said as he stood in the doorway of the living room, eyeing her strangely. “Who were you talking to?” he asked, an accusation coloring his voice.

“Huh?” She heard his question but was distracted by a faint, red pulsing light that seemed to be radiating from his skin, like a hidden heat source. She closed her eyes and shook her head, but when she opened them the light was gone.

“I heard you talking to someone.” His voice was now stern.

Brooke shook her head and rubbed her face in her hands. “Oh, I must've been asleep—talking in my sleep. It's been a long few days.”

“Tell me about it.” The tension left his voice. “Would you come and lay next to me? I miss you.”

Her stomach tightened into a ball. “Of course, baby.” She moved over to him, watching his face brighten as he stared at her, but as she moved nearer, all she could think was:
destroyer of worlds
.

C
HAPTER
27

O
n December 21st, at the stroke of midnight, Adelaide Thibodeaux's binding spell on Simon's powers finally collapsed.

It broke, not with a bang.

But a whimper.

As Simon lay in a tepid pool of bathwater, his body expelled the last of the slimy residue that had continued to ooze out of his pores throughout the nights; it was a sign of his transition.

And then he ascended.

Quietly.

And the snowstorm ended.

C
HAPTER
28

“T
he ties that bind make them tight, stronger than the blackest night. The ties that bind make them tight, stronger than the blackest night.” Her words had echoed throughout the room since the previous night. She had spent the evening fortifying the shack with her magic, hoping to erect a barrier strong enough to keep them out. They were coming; she had no doubt about that. Their birth date was today and presumably, they had their power, but Addie couldn't be sure. There were no signs, no omens as she had expected. The only thing she could be certain of is that they wouldn't be satisfied until they stole the power of the sister-clan and the power from this sacred ground; they'd have to come here to do that, which would be the final nail in the coffin for her. Yes, they would come. They would come to claim her; to kill her.

Let it be done
, she thought.