The Lebrus Stone (36 page)

Judith wasn't finished. I could tell by the way she was smiling. "If you're wondering who Cray's father is, it is a man called Clias. He agreed to impregnate a human who was of Fallion descent. Gundulla arranged it with your aunt long before your arrival. You're mother was not aware, but Gundulla knew you would be handed over to your Aunt Lorraine once you were born. It was a bid to make certain it helped Gundulla gain rulership of Shimmarian alongside him. He has access to the stone because of her. He is in love with her, deeply so."

Before I could ask who Clias was, she faced the grave and said, "There is no other way. All three of you will allow us to pass through. You will sacrifice yourselves and your child, and we shall prevail. I will be able to choose the time of my death."

"Is that what you're really waiting for? To die? Something you should have allowed in the first place?"

"Yes. Yes, I want to die more than you want to live. And nothing, nothing will stand in my way. I have to see my son." She stared at the grave.

"Help," I screamed. "Somebody help!"

Judith grabbed me. I kicked her in the crotch. She howled and collapsed. I dragged her with every ounce of my strength to a sharp rock and began carving away at the rope. Judith stopped groaning and tried to stand. I kicked her again, but two cloaked strangers ran into the cemetery and gagged me before carrying me back into the house.

I woke up in my bed. Untied. Cray was stroking my face.

He was thinner; pale. As usual, he seemed torn between two thoughts.

"I need to speak to you," he said. "Do you mind if I smoke?" He was already placing a cigarette in his mouth.

"Yes."

He stopped rummaging through his pockets, biting his lip. "I've…realized I've never given you any gifts"

"I don't care."

"You still hate me?"

"Do you blame me?" I hissed. "You made a pact with that vindictive witch! She isn't even…" Something told me he didn't know about Aunt Lorraine, and that it was the wrong time to tell him that she might be his real mother. No matter how much he angered me, I couldn't bring myself to hurt him, even if he did seem as sick and evil as Gundulla. Instead, I felt stupidly extra protective, like he was my responsibility or something. In a way, I guess he was. I could have resisted him and I should have. No one had cast a strong spell to make me want him so badly.

And truth be known, and as sickening as it sounded, I still wanted him to an extent. I had craved him since the moment we met. I had wanted the close contact to prove I could enjoy being intimate with someone. And no matter what, I missed the feeling of wanting something beyond a career. I was kind of worse to have been semi aware of my actions, especially even when I knew I needed to doubt them. I was worse to have been willing, and still perhaps was. Cray had said the same under the blossom tree that day. Now I knew what he meant.

"I know I'm not what you deserve," his voice broke.

"She says I'm pregnant, Cray," I whispered. I waited for him to respond. He just kept his head lowered, crushing the cigarette in his hand.

"So what now?" I pushed.

Silence.

"Are you not going to try and save me?"

Silence again.

"Answer me, Cray."

His eyes were moist, burdened. But so was I.

"Cray, you have to do something. She could find out I'm not pregnant and then what?"

He winced. At first, I thought he was upset, but then his eyes became coated with a film of white.

"Oh no…not again."

"After the child is born, I will save you. Take you away." His voice was barely audible, the white in his eyes faded. I relaxed.

"But I'm not convinced there's a child. I need a pregnancy test," I whispered close to his ear. "If I'm not pregnant, are you planning on kidnapping one to pretend it's mine? They want you dead too." I had to fight the urge not to slap him.

He shook his head, perhaps reluctant to believe me. His eyes turned white again, looking frozen. I tried to ignore the fear erupting in my stomach, clenching it into a thousand knots.

"I'll think of something if you're not. If you are, the child would have to face its fate," he said robotically. "Its death with mine might be enough to open the portal long enough for Mother to take reign. They might not need to kill you."

Gundulla was seriously manipulating him. She must have been for him to think that was a rational plan. I had no way of knowing when it was her or him talking. I only knew that he couldn't mean what he was saying. If he had any feelings for me, how could he willing to watch me stay captured while he devised some type of flimsy escape? How could he think I would want to stand back and let this happen to him? To our supposed child?

"Go away, Cray. Just go. You're not making any sense."

I covered my ears and dropped my head between my knees, squeezing my eyes shut and holding in any tears that wanted to make me feel further inferior. His breath heated my skin at my neck, raising the fine hairs. I melted at his touch; it was instantaneous. A pin prick of pain at my neck made me wince.

Just then a loud crash brought me back from my relapse into letting Cray so close. He was lying unconscious on the floor; a pool of blood flowed from his head as his skin turned an ashen gray. My throat blazed at the sight of blood, but simmered the moment my mind absorbed the fact that Cray was hurt.

A large man growled and tossed away a broken chair. His teeth were clenched, and his eyes grew large and a deep red.

But I didn't care how freakish he looked. I leaped out of bed and kneeled beside Cray, trying not to inhale the sweetness of his blood. He still had a pulse. His heart was beating strong. But he was so pale, he could otherwise have been pronounced dead.

"What have you done?" I screamed at the man.

"Calm yourself," he barked, throwing me a small towel. "Wipe your neck. I will deal with him."

Blood trickled down my neck from a small graze. I did my best to ignore it and the tightness the scent was creating in my throat as I held Cray.

"Not until you tell me what you're going to do with him."

The man pushed me aside and grabbed Cray.

I grabbed hold of Cray's feet, but the man pushed me aside.

"He needs to be taught a lesson," he said, leaving the room and slamming the door on my face.

"No," I screamed as he locked it. "Please! Don't hurt him!"

~ * ~

I lay in bed, worrying.

I was seconds from crying…again, when I heard the door open. I lifted my head and found the same man standing at the other side of the room, calmer, with eyes that had become a natural blue. Yet his stare was just as unsettled.

"He could have killed you. He wanted to feed from you. Do you know that?"

"Have you hurt him?"

"No. Although I should have."

I rested my head on the pillow, then realized there was a strange man in my room. I tensed.

"He's not like you, as you must have established." He stepped closer to my bed.

"What is he? Who are you?" I asked, lifting my head.

"I'm Clias." He offered a cunning smile. "And he is what Fallions would say is inhabited with demons."

Clias.
He
was Clias.

"Like you?" I spat. "Only the likes of you would use someone like you did my aunt."

He blinked a few times, like I had made him recall something difficult and long forgotten. He then calmly wiped his face and said, "I choose to believe we are powerful in a way that they do not care to appreciate."

"What the hell are you?" I asked, sitting up and keeping my distance.

"A Sha'lac."

I gulped. It didn't sound like the equivalent of an angel, not even the fallen kind. I had stupidly hoped Cray could be cured.

"What's a…Sha'lac?" I didn't want to have to have a conversation with this sorry excuse for a manly creature, but I had to know more. He had to tell me.

He took a seat on my bed and I sat up straighter, cautiously listening. Up close, I could see a resemblance to Cray. They had the same dark hair, chiseled features and high cheek bones. Except Clias was older. Maybe in his thirties, broader. I imagined what it would have been like if I'd just had strong feelings for someone and I was meeting the man who created him. In my less dramatic life, things were easier, freer, simple.

"There are two kinds of beings in Shimmarian," he went on. "The Fallions and Sha'lacs," he went on. "To humans, Fallions have been known as Fae, whereas we have been known as…" He paused, waiting me to guess.

"Zombies?"

He smirked. "No."

"Lizard…men?"

He chuckled, enhancing his rakish looks. "What does Cray crave? What have you craved since his first feed from you?"

He eyed me delectably as I recalled what I had been doing earlier, how I'd been trying to taste the blood from my neck. I inched away and held my stomach; the burning in my throat began, needing buckets of ice to cool it.

"Vam…" I began. He nodded. "…pires."

"That's right." He smirked, looking exactly the part. "Fallions do not have wings like the myth, but brightly colored hair and sheer skin. Sha'lacs…well you have partly seen our distinguishing differences. Though we have no choice but to feed from humans, they are not particularly what we crave, not even to taste."

"What is it then?" My hands shook. He was licking his lips the way Cray did these days when he got too close to me.

"We crave thoughts, the soul, the joys and pains from our source of renewal."

"Renewal?" His eyes closed for a few seconds, like he was recalling such a feed. My pulse quickened. I knew it wouldn't help him to resist my blood. I wondered why he had so far.

"The more we drink, the more knowledge we gain." The expression in his eyes definitely conveyed arousal, becoming unfocused. "…the more powerful we become. But, when we drink from a Fallion, we gain the greatest powers of all. For they are the purest, the wisest, the strongest due to the magic they possess." I thought I caught the sound of him moan with pleasure at the recollection.

Getting uneasy with the topic, and the way he was starting to look at me like a three course meal, I quickly asked for more before considering screaming for help. But then wondered who would care.

"So what happens to Fallions when you feed from them?"

"They crave blood for a while. Cray must feed from a Fallion three times to become a complete Sha'lac, or else die a slow, painful death. A Fallion must be fed upon five times by the same Sha'lac to turn into one of us. It's the same for humans."

My hand flew to my throat; the walls of it were thickening. I wheezed. It meant Cray needed to be given my blood one last time to become a Sha'lac. Isobel was going to make sure he didn't. Maybe even Clias.

"Where did you come from?" I asked, barely able to speak. Now really wasn't the time to have one of my panic attacks. "How did you come to be like this?"

He grinned cunningly again. "We were once Fallions. A few of us changed due to an accidental feed; Fallions being attacked by Sha'lacs is very rare. The elders who first began derived from Shrind. I guess humans would refer to him as the devil."

I took short breaths to ease my own craving and the need to pass out, and formed the next question. "And?"

"We opposed what humans would call a godly form. In our world, that is known as Druviz Owal. Our wish is to make every Fallion into a Sha'lac and rule the whole of Shimmarian, not just a small region of it. We want to overthrow their leaders." He eyed me a third time, contemplative rather than hungry. "So, now do you understand? Do you see why I have joined this pact to accomplish what my kind deserve? We no longer wish to be outcasts and made to exist in the darkness that has little to no magic." He finished bitterly.

"Y-y-you must have some qualities?" I stammered, afraid he was about to lose it.

"Yes, many the Fallions fear."

"Then why don't you just cross the divide?"

"We would die if we attempted to cross. That is why they are the most powerful. They conjure spells, and they did so to keep us from their side. We mainly conjure the night, physical strength, speed, manifestation. Even when they do not have their sacred stone, they are capable of more than our kind," he said tersely. "As you can see, you have fallen for a young man who is supposed to be your enemy in more ways than one."

"But Cray has Fallion blood in him, too." I said, hanging on to some shred of hope.

"Any trace of Fallion essence was destroyed by my Sha'lac blood. Since he is part human, his traits and needs have not surfaced until now, not until after his first feed."

"So, if he hadn't fed from me, he could have lived a normal life? He wouldn't be changing?"

He nodded. "It's a distinct possibility."

"Now there's no going back?"

"No. The Sha'lac side of him has been awakened."

It sounded like Gundulla had planned all of this, as well, planned for him to feed from a part Fallion once to fade away slowly, agonizingly. She thought she no longer needed him. Cray had to tell me what he was really going to do about all this.

"So you've not only sinned as a Fallion to become a Sha'lac, you've also turned against the ones you originally came from?" I made sure not to hide my disgust.

He blinked a lot like he had previously, in a way that made him look too human, too pent up with mixed emotions. "Yes," he said simply, in that careful calm tone that seemed polished over time.

"How did you even do it?"

"Quite easily. Witches such as Gundulla and her coven were allowed into Shimmarian freely. Fallions taught them their magic; the humans taught Fallions their way of life. But Gundulla learned that a member of her coven had fallen in love with a Fallion. She decided to turn against them and find a way to dethrone the leaders of Shimmarian."

"Because she was a loser that no one cared about," I spat.

"Not exactly." He grinned. "She entered our side, with the Dia'ac. She met me and we bonded. I informed her where she could find the Lebrus stone to help her on her quest. I, of course, could not cross the barrier to do it myself. Fallions do not fear us stealing it, yet they had not considered we would tell a human to get what we wanted. I am quite proud to say that only I had the audacity to stoop so low. Love has a way of changing you." He looked at me as if I would understand. I didn't. No matter how handsome he was or how much I tried to remember Cray was a part of him, he was just as sick and twisted as Gundulla.