The Lebrus Stone (34 page)

He closed his eyes and brushed his cheek against mine. His stale skin grated. The rough texture of his lips brushed the length of my neck with an icy tongue. Had I caused this?

What was he about to…feed from me too?

"No," I pleaded. "Please. Don't!"

~ * ~

My eyes flew open and I was back in my cave-like room, still bound to the bed, yet no longer gagged.

A small lamp had been switched on.

What was happening? Why was I jumping from place to place?

I panted, needing to rest.

"It's okay," said a husky voice from near the window.

Cray appeared, holding the fabric that had been wrapped around my head.

"No! Stay away from me. Please…just go away!" My throat hurt.

He stepped closer; his eyes gray as marble, his skin tinted an unnatural blue.

"Please, please just go away," I cried. "Leave me alone!"

He sat on the bed. Untying my quivering hands, he lifted one to his face. He kept it against his cold and then hot turning cheek.

"It's okay. I'm here." He sighed. "I won't let you suffer." He kissed my fingers and stroked my arm. His pupils were black, dilating. It made it easier to withstand his gaze. "You mean too much to me."

As usual, I found myself calming down and believing him. His sadness made it too unbearable for me to let him suffer alone, among people with no feelings or regrets, who had probably brainwashed him.

"Why, Cray?" I sobbed. "Why are you letting them do this to me?"

He frowned, and I detected some anger brewing from under the surface of his expression. "It's important that you join the coven. Turn away from Fallions," he said, like it should have been obvious.

"Fallions?" I snapped. "I don't really know what they or you are. What's wrong with you? Why was Gundulla saying you've sampled me?" I tried to pull away, but he was strong, determined.

"You're a descendant of Zangra." He licked his lips, as though he was savoring the taste of her name on his lips. "Like you saw in the past, she was a full Fallion who chose to live a human life with Bevan. You have Fallion blood in you, Crys. You're the key to opening the portal to Shimmarian. You could help our coven get back in. All you have to do is join us to make it happen."

Was that really all he thought it was going to take? Did he really not know they wanted to use me as a sacrifice?

His eyes lost focus, just as I was beginning to believe him and listen.

He licked his lips once more and traced the veins on my wrist with his index finger. "As for me, I don't know what's happening and why I'm feeling so…detached from my mind. I just know I have this immense need for something now because of you." He lifted his head to look at me; this time with eyes a pure white. His lips slackened, revealing the point of a puerile tongue.

I yelped and backed away, shaking my hand from his, but he wouldn't relent.

He exposed jagged, long teeth and a lizard-like tongue that shot through my wrist. My heart ceased to beat as he chewed out chunks of my hand. I was too shocked to scream at first. My mouth just hung open, watching it all happen like I was having an out of body experience.

Blood poured onto the white sheets. My eventual screams were a never-ending battle to drown out the noise of him devouring me. I was still screaming when a hand pressed over my mouth. "Shhhh…"

I struggled to move and lift my head, afraid to open my eyes. The weight of Cray pushing down on me was too much. When I opened my eyes, his were wide and practically throbbing, seeming just as afraid. But he was back to normal; handsome, not a monster.

I was returning from nightmare after nightmare. My arm was fine, but I felt exhausted, like I had been running for miles before opening my eyes to find a new place, a new predicament, but just as unbelievable as the last. My heart hammered at the thought of what could happen next, at how long I might have to endure it.

"It's okay," Cray said, this time with a voice distraught.

I continued to scream under his hand. My need for him to disappear was too great for me not to climb into another grip of panic.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he insisted with a tone too sincere. But I had to keep myself from falling for his words; his lies and pretense.

"I came to talk," he whispered, acting as if this was the first time he was seeing me since I'd been brought back here. "Explain."

Hadn't he already? How could he explain something so hellish? Why he was allowing me to be tortured? How could he explain why he had been eating me alive moments ago?

"Please, stop screaming and listen," he said close to my face; his breath now warm and mixing with the spiciness of his cologne. I inhaled it, still enjoying how it intoxicated my weakened senses. It helped me to remember our short time together before all this happened.

I nodded, still preparing for another twisted scenario.

He took a moment to remove his hand and placed it on the pillow beside my head. He stroked a strand of my soiled hair.

He wouldn't look at me as he spoke. "This isn't how I intended it, you know. I did try to make you see me for what I was. I tried to make you see how wrong I was for you. I was expected to go to great lengths to make you join our coven, Crys. How far I didn't know until I was sucked in too deep. But…we need you to open the gates to the world of these Fallions. It's important to Mother. She's lived a very long time to return and takes revenge on those who turned against her. She has their most vital asset."

I glanced around frantically, pinching my sides to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I hoped I was.

"I don't expect you to understand," he continued with more vigor. "It's not like I hadn't tried hard enough to make you despise me."

His cheeks flushed red and his lips turned pink, his eyes were back to their treacle brown. His unblemished face was too angelic to be as evil as he had seemed. He was like a dream that was amazing to recall when you woke up from it. Perfect. He seemingly had no human flaws. But maybe that was for another reason.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I ground out. "I just know I hate you right now."

He bowed his head, hopefully in shame.

I swallowed hard. It was easier said in my mind. Saying it out loud upset me just as much.

"I didn't deserve you anyway," he said under his breath. "I always knew that, no matter what, I would always be a lesser person than you."

"You're right. So go away and leave me to deal with this," I spat, keeping up with the pretense that I fully meant it. "I want you to stay away from me, Cray, for good this time, unless I have to see you with the rest of them."

He stood and did as I asked. I became all the more enraged by his plea. He passed by the foot of my bed. That was when I noticed a speck of blood on his sleeve, a smear of fresh red by the pocket of his jeans.

"Wait… You…" I couldn't say it. My mouth struggled to form the words. "That…it all happened? Wh-why am I not wounded?"

He paused at the door. "I told you. Mother has what the Fallions want back," he said with little feeling. "With it, she has ways to heal. She has ways to do many things."

"But why are you letting her do this to me?"

His frown softened for a look of pain and anguish. I couldn't bear it as much as this predicament. "I'm not. And I don't know what I'm doing when I become what you've made me. She had to fix you when I lost control just now."

"But she made you do something to me, Cray. Not me."

He shook his head, like I was getting through to some logical side of his brain he was dismissing.

"You need help, Cray. Let me help you. She's cast some spell to make you do what she wants. She must be. Get me out of here. You have to, please," I begged.

He didn't respond, just stared as his eyes sheeted over with that same white. I cowered behind my hands. Isobel had to be controlling his loyalty. But whatever had changed him, I couldn't witness him hurt me again, even if he didn't mean it.

I squeezed my eyes closed and listened to him step out of the room and lock the door.

To my relief, I didn't experience being devoured before waking up healed only to have it happen all over again. I figured it must have been Gundulla's way of welcoming me to the house of horrors.

I wasn't sure how many days had passed. I couldn't see if it was day or night since my window and the French doors to the balcony had been boarded up. I wasn't counting either. I just lay in bed, trying not to think about Cray and what had happened to him; what he did to me. I couldn't get my head around it.

Sometimes I occupied my mind by reading what was in the dark. The messages I probably imagined and wanted to see; the words that told me I would soon be saved.

While tied to the bed, I was spoon fed; yogurt mainly, and lumpy soup, even when I refused it, spat, swore, and growled it was forced into my mouth. Sometimes I was persuaded to drink a glass of water with a squeeze of lemon juice and some honey to aid my achy throat.

I was asked every hour if I needed to use the rest room, and was untied briefly before being escorted.

As for my throat, it didn't burn from all the screaming. It was raw because it needed to be drenched with something cool and reviving. I craved it so much, the sound of my heart hammer in my ears made me thirsty, to the extent that I had to distract myself and hum a melody or reminisce my time with Jared, Sal, even my time at the group homes.

I didn't have a fever, but something had changed in me, too. I was trying not to face what it could be. If this crazy new world I had become entrapped in was anything like the movies, Cray biting me could mean I was turning into the same as him. The fear of that insane possibility and the thought of being here this way for who knew how long, made it difficult to breathe, sleep, and eat. I had to cling on to some glimmer of hope. I had to believe in the miraculous words forming in the dark from someone or something promising to help.

Judith, the woman who had been beside Isobel when I woke up here, fed me. She visited three times a day, but hardly spoke to me during mealtimes. She only said open wide and hurry. She was also painstakingly thin; her clothes hung from her prominent bones. I wondered where Syd and Milton could be and prayed for the first time in my life that they were well and weren't a part of this nightmare.

I think two days had passed when Judith finally spoke more than two words to me. I had been a sleep. "Priestess Gundulla wants to see you in the lower chambers."

She untied me. At first, for some reason, I couldn't move. I would have tried to make a swing at her if I had enough strength; tried to escape.

"Stand up," she said, lifting me by the armpits. Sometimes the very thin were stronger than they looked. She helped me walk around the room. When I sat back down, she rubbed my calves and feet, creating a burning sensation that softened my muscles enough to let me flex and curl my toes.

A few minutes later, I was ready. I only stumbled when I stomped too hard.

Judith led me downstairs. There was no escape. They wouldn't have made it this simple for me to, so I peered around, looking at how trapped I was.

The hallways were lit by candles set on cabinets, making it easier for me to withstand the wavering light. Like I expected, the front door had many bolts and locks that had been added. It thrashed any hope of ever escaping this hellhole. I followed Judith into the study.

Isobel, I mean Gundulla, was sitting behind her desk. The room was quite dark, lit only by the burning orange flames from the fireplace that hissed like my despair.

The window was also boarded up. I wanted to find a way to the glass and see what existed beyond the burgeoning house, to see what life continued in my absence. Most of all, I wanted to see the world as it was before I was boxed in.

I took deep breaths to calm myself. Attacking Gundulla would have been useless. There was no way she would allow me near her, even if I wasn't able to cause a scratch. Still, the thought was pleasing; busting her lips, giving her a black eye and breaking some bones sounded about right. I balled up my hands, tempted to take the risk.

Judith bowed to Gundulla then swept out of the room, closing the door behind her. I listened to her feet pitter-patter across the hall to help me stay calm.

She had gone back upstairs, her steps faded behind a faraway door. Floorboards creaked, and the windowpane whined against a pushing wind. I concentrated on everything except the tapping of Gundulla's pen and the crinkle of her shirt whenever she moved; even the blinking of her long lashes.

I could suddenly hear everything. It was alluring and soothing. I could sense every word that was to be spoken beyond the overlay of sounds.

But there was nothing to say to a woman wearing such a spineless grin. I waited for her command.

"Sit," she said. From the corner of my eye I could see she was glaring.

I was surprised by the kindness in her voice.

I sat opposite her like I always had when she was just Isobel; the sadness of remembering she never existed affected me again. Her pen continued to tap, never once altering its pace. The rest of her remained as still as a statue.

"What have you done with Jess, Elandra, her coven?" I hurried out, keeping my gaze on the desk, clenching my hands tighter, preparing myself for the answer.

"They've been taken care of."

"Have you…killed them?" My voice caught on a sob. I quickly kept it in check.

"Yes."

I closed my eyes. If I didn't, I knew I would be punching her in the face, hurting her in some way if possible. But that would have only made things worse. Those people were dead because of me. Maybe even a part of a criminal investigation as we spoke. I had brought nothing good to anyone since I arrived. How was I going to live with this? Gundulla may as well kill me, I thought. I would slowly be dying inside because of this. It was too much guilt to carry.

I remembered Syd and Milton with a shred of hope. My head shot up. Gundulla looked at me like she already knew what I was about to ask.

"Syd and Milton have been given their leave until further notice," she said, proving she might have.

I dropped my shoulders and flopped back in my seat, relieved that two people I had come to like were safe. At least this meant they weren't involved in this crazy mess and weren't against me. Or were they?

"They know nothing," Gundulla said, answering my thoughts again. Could she read my mind? Did I have no control? Or was I just being typically readable? I wanted to weep miserably at the thought of her reading my mind. Again I was too proud to let it happen. There was no way she was going to make me crumble, not that easily.

"You should be grateful. It is not like you had much of a life to begin with. I have made it exciting."

"Exciting?" I couldn't help but snap. "This is your idea of exciting?"

"Fool, I do not care. Now, take a look at this."

She pushed a photograph my way. I was afraid to look at it. Somehow I knew it wouldn't bring me any comfort or resolution, only more pain.

"Well, go ahead." Her smile was triumphant as she leaned back, making me further reluctant.

From a glance, I could see it was a hand-sized photograph, smooth, apart from a tear along the top left corner. Looking closer, it was an image of a baby and a toddler held between two women. One of the women, shorter in height and with rich brown curls, was kissing a plump child with a red nose.

The other woman was my mother. It was why I tried not to keep looking at the image. But I couldn't stop admiring the gleam of pride within her hazel eyes, the width of her smile as she pressed a tawny haired child to her cheek.

I must have been the child in her arms. The woman beside her could have been Aunt Lorraine. Yet I had no idea who she was holding.

"Why are you showing me this?" I looked at Gundulla. She was still leaning back in her chair, twirling a pen between her fingers, amused.

"I would have thought that was obvious."

"Well, it's not," I snarled. I didn't care how I sounded. I hated her too much to bottle up my frustration and hatred for her.

"Look closely. Maybe you will recognize the one in question."

All I could see was a child I didn't recognize.

"Is the child Aunt Lorraine's or something?"

"Yes." Gundulla leaned forward, eyes gleaming, searching mine. I couldn't take it, I needed to thump her. I stood to face the mantelpiece. She still watched me from her framed wedding photograph with late Great Uncle Theodore. That was if he was even my uncle, if he was even dead. My hands balled into fists. There was so much she had kept hidden. There was so much I needed to unravel.

"Where is that child now?" My voice barely reached across the room.

"Not far." The amusement in her response pulled at my last nerve. I spun round and charged for the desk. Gundulla remained perfectly still. "Just say it, BITCH!"

Her lips twitched. "Why it's the boy you so desire…Cray."

She grinned, enjoying my reaction.

I gasped, hoping it was another lie. Yet visions of a child began to flicker through my mind, a baby boy reaching out for my hand at night as we lay in the same bed. I remembered the way he cried in the dark. I had known him. And now I wanted him. More than I should have. He shared the same blood, past, and now a failure. No, no I had to be wrong. I had to be imagining this. Gundulla had to be filling my head with images that weren't real.

"You're lying," I said, my voice hysterical.

"I have no reason to lie any longer."

"I don't believe you. You're just trying to tear us apart!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous." She snickered. "You're hardly together. He can barely bring himself to look at you."

"And that's because of you! What have you done to him?"

"Nothing he wouldn't have wanted to do to himself, eventually. His kind are born to relish the blood of a Fallion. You appease the sins of his species."

"Species?"

"You will find out soon enough."

I inhaled a deep breath, there was something more urgent I needed her to tell me. "Say we are…related." The words struck my tongue." Does he know? Has he always known?" The thought made me want to vomit.

"Of course not. He may never have courted you. And that, my dear, was a must."

"But why?"

"I believe you know why. One cannot visit the past and return with fewer answers."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Crystal, I am growing very tired of your need to be so dense. Either that or you are clearly reluctant to hear the truth. I sincerely hope it is the latter."

"I want to hear the truth. Just not from you. You're immune to honesty."

She cackled and stood to walk over to the table at the boarded up window. She filled a glass with water from a pitcher, proceeding to amuse herself at my expense. "Perhaps you are in denial. But the truth has a way of catching up on those who choose to hide, Crystal. Those who only exist rather than truly live with utter strength."

"You would know all about living in denial." I spat. "I pity Bevan for having set eyes on you."

She slammed down her glass, splashing water all over the table and floor. "Quiet," she lashed through clenched teeth.

"No! You're sick, evil! And I'm going to make you pay for this."

For now, I actually believed it; for now, my hatred was enough to give me the courage to devise a plan.

Her smile returned beneath the scowl. "If only you had expressed your pointless view before you chose to lose your virtue to the only family you had left. Perhaps then I could have cared to listen," she mocked.

It dawned on me. After everything that had happened since meeting Elandra's coven, I had momentarily forgotten the finer details from my visit to the past.

"But I'm—"

"Pregnant," she finished. "Congratulations."

I was the child with the significant birthmark. But I wasn't pregnant, was I? Maybe she knew all along I would give in and sleep with Cray without much thought. She was still smiling, seeming happy with her so-called completed mission. If anything, Gundulla thinking I was pregnant could buy me some time. Time to do what, I wasn't sure. But at least Cray might have devised some type of plan of his own.

"Cray was rather difficult," Gundulla added. "He was reluctant to do the deed, so a little spell casting was needed to coax him into your room that night. The rest was him giving in to you and throwing caution to the wind and thinking he could find a way to protect you."

I kept my expression neutral. I didn't want her to see how much my stomach was churning. Was that why he looked in a trance that night?

"As for you, we merely made you all the more willing to be careless. We made you convinced you wouldn't get pregnant. We manipulated your mind. Didn't you feel the after affects?" She laughed haughtily. "Oh my, such brain manipulations do cause the most awful headaches."

I shuddered at how the witch had helped stage what should have been our natural first night together. I replayed that night, everything she said was sounding true. I had been unlike myself, careless, frivolous, throwing caution to the wind as much as him. Cray had been like a robot at first, controlled and hypnotized like I sensed. We both did seem…manipulated.
Oh, no.