The Nutcracker Bleeds (47 page)

What
had been her question? How could she forget?

“I’m
sorry that I can’t answer that for you,” he said gently, “but you’ll have to
find a way.”

3

Anne
knew she had to accept that for what it was. Goodbye was inevitable. Best,
then, to use the time while it was theirs?

She
sank deeply into his kiss once again, no longer noticing that it was wooden.
His hands slid down her back. Anne thought of something then, briefly in the
back of her mind–a flicker of memory. When she’d been young and living with her
aunt, a chore of hers had been to do the sweeping. When no one was looking, her
broom became a prince, and they’d danced around the room together. She’d placed
it a few brief kisses on the bunch where the straw was bound together as if it were
a face, so why had she ever thought it was so odd to have Armand’s living lips?
He was a person inside there, after all, and he could feel her enough to press
back.

Those
thoughts brought on another memory and another concern. Again, she broke away
from him.

“What
are we going to do about Olivia?” she asked breathlessly.

“We’re
going to find out what we can to fix things, and find out what’s going on
within the house. If she won’t come with us willingly, I don’t think it’s wise
to uproot her from her throne. We’ll have more trouble than we need.”

Anne
wasn’t sure how much she liked that idea, but she could think of nothing
better. Olivia needed to be at her side, but that was obviously impossible. She
drew in a deep breath–

Pain
within made her gasp before she could exhale. She gripped her stomach, wincing
lightly. Armand’s hand immediately followed hers there.

“Are
you alright?”

Anne
smiled at him weakly. “It’s the dress. Made for dolls and not for so much
breathing.”

He
examined her a moment, and then his response came easily and softly.

“Take
it off.”

4

At
many times in her life, when Olivia was feeling sad or frightened, she would
pull all the dolls down from their shelves and gather them on the bed around
her. Their closeness made her feel safe, and it was nearly the same thing in
the throne room now. Toys that had gathered into the palace were congregated
tightly around their leader to claim their own comfort, and the girl hated to
admit that she had very little to offer them.

She’d
ordered a regiment of soldiers to lay siege on the camps of rodents that had
invaded her kingdom, and from within the castle, she could hear the sounds of
war. Where was the Lady Sovereign to turn when she was feeling frightened?
There was no one there to help her. Her uncle was dead, Anne was
God–knows–where, and the one who should have been there had not shown his face
in quite a while.

Armand…where
are you?

“Lady?”

Olivia
looked down at her side to see her lovely, dark–haired ballerina doll staring
up at her adoringly. This one was her precious one–her favorite aside from
Armand.

“Yes?”
the Lady asked graciously, hiding any waver in her voice.

“I
just want you to know that I would never leave your side, especially in a time
like this,” the ballerina said. “Do consider taking me by your side instead!
I’ll do anything to keep you happy, mistress.”

At
the offer, Olivia smiled, but she knew that she could not accept. A prince was
what she desired, not a doll.

“I
believe you,” Olivia said, “but you know that I’ve already chosen. I stand by
that decision honorably. Armand is the only one for me.”

The
doll’s pretty mouth angled down in a frown, but she was forced to accept this
rejection.

“I
understand, majesty,” the ballerina said, kissing Olivia’s hand respectfully
before continuing to sit quietly.

The
Lady sat up a bit straighter then, wondering in the back of her mind if she
looked foolish for waiting on someone who might never come. But that wasn’t
true. Armand would come. He was on his way now.

He
was hers…

5

There
was something about being naked that had always appealed to Anne. Perhaps it
was the sight and feel of her own warm parts, or perhaps it was being caressed
and admired by the one who was with her. Either way, there was nothing quite like
it. Even the sex that might have followed normally paled in comparison to the
simple freedom and concentration on her own body.

Armand’s
simple admiration of her aroused her even more.

His earlier
suggestion for her to undress had sent a tingling sensation to a deep part of
her–a place she hadn’t felt it in a long while. She’d never imagined how this
sort of thing might have worked with one who was not human–perhaps that was a
fantasy of Olivia’s–but that way of thinking had existed before she had met
Armand. She’d certainly had such thoughts about him, though she’d never
believed it would truly happen.

In
the moment that this notion had arisen, she’d not questioned it. She’d only
complied.

It
was pleasant to feel the slight drop of her breasts when she’d pulled the
straps of the dress away and slid it down around her hips, gathering it around
her where she sat. She took a deep breath then, letting it cleanse her of any
stale air that might have been left in her lungs. She stretched out a few kinks
in her sore muscles. Then she was able to breathe easier.

“Feel
better?” he inquired, his hands patient.

Anne
smiled sheepishly back. Her instincts as a desirable woman took over. She saw no
insanity in what she was doing, for it wasn’t madness any longer. It was simple
reality, and there was no shame in love.

She
kissed his lips, and though they were stiff and tasted like sawdust, they moved
easily against her own. His tongue was wet and warm; not unpleasant. In that
moment, it was the most perfect thing about him–perhaps aside from the glide of
his hands as he found the curves of her hips and moved up across her back.

His
hair tickled her skin, teasing it. She could feel his heart thumping against
his chest as he pulled her in tighter. The metal ridges were cold and hard, but
gentle as they held her. She was chilled.

Anne
couldn’t deny how pleasurable his touch was. His need alone enthralled her, but
there was something about the soft, wetness of his tongue countered by the
pinching, hardness of his lips that balanced pain and tenderness to create a
perfect euphoria. She knew she likely should have been quiet, but the feelings
were overwhelming. She couldn’t stop her gasps.

She
understood that she likely wouldn’t be fulfilled by any of these acts, but she
hadn’t cared when they’d started and she wouldn’t care after it was done.
However it would turn out, she still wanted this. It was all she could have
with him.

As
if she’d even had those concerns in these moments that she felt so much more
like a woman than she ever had with William, she was surprised to feel movement
below. A sensation crept along her thigh, testing slowly but unrelenting, and
she gasped when he slid two fingers into her.

He
let the fingers linger a moment to see if she would protest, but when she only
moaned lightly, he continued, pulling out and sliding back again. From some age
long ago, he knew precisely what he was doing. Anne tilted her head back and
gripped his shoulders in appreciation.

It
didn’t take much effort against her pent–up desires. She felt her release.

Anne
felt the groping pulsation kneading his fingers down below, felt her legs
weakening. She released a single cry and gripped a handful of his hair. All there
was left to do then was to complete her brief moment of bliss.

She
shared it with him in the only way she was sure she could. She sighed out his
name.

When
the feeling had faded and weakness took its place, she collapsed on his legs,
panting and feeling her heart pump strongly. The method had worked well enough
for her, but she was certain that he was still full of tension. In fact, she
wasn’t quite sure of what to say to him now. What could she have offered?
Perhaps he might have been angry with her for achieving with he could not?

Anne
looked back to him, seeing that he was staring down at the glistening liquid on
his fingers. What was that expression on his face? Longing? Sadness? Awe?

“You
didn’t have to,” she said, still trying to gather her breath.

“Yes,”
Armand insisted. He didn’t look away from his fingers, entranced by the fluid
he hadn’t seen in ages. “I actually feel much better now.”

6

It
was shortly after the ballerina had made her request that Olivia rose up from
her throne. All eyes moved to her, but no one tried to stop her as she moved
through the midst of the toys at her feet. Sitting there, lost in her thoughts,
she’d come to a decision, and it nagged her until she acted on it.

“Is
there something that you need, Lady?” asked a guard in red when she’d caught
his attention. “Anything we can get for you?”

Behind
her, some of the toys whispered to one another, wondering what it was that had
brought the Lady down from her throne so abruptly, moving through the palace as
if possessed.

“I
just need to be alone for a bit,” she said. “To rest. Could you see that no one
disturbs me?”

The
guard seemed a bit unsure, but what could he do but agree? Following her around
the edge of the throne room, he watched her enter into the back chamber that
had been fixed to serve as her bedroom. Curtains separated it from the rest of
the castle and a large pillow within was her bed. She did feel a bit tired, but
that was not her purpose for coming here. She came here to get away.

Once
she saw that the curtains were closed tightly and felt comfortable that the
guard was standing just outside, Olivia moved across the room. There was a tiny
spot there that had been covered by a table made out of a building block. It
had been placed there to plug a small hole, but at this moment, Olivia wanted
to see that opening.

With
a bit of effort, she pushed the block out of the way and squeezed through,
escaping the palace.

Was
it terribly wicked of her to run away? Perhaps, but it was for a very good
reason. She understood the reason why her nutcracker prince had not come to her
aid. It was because she was not actually in danger! She was much too
well–protected within her kingdom, and if she wanted to be saved, she would
have to
need saving
. She hadn’t forgotten about what Armand had warned
her about the rodents being after her specifically, but there were no doubts in
her mind that she would be delivered before anything terrible happened.

It
was very simple really. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t thought of it before. If
she was held hostage by the Rat King, then Armand would certainly come to
rescue her. That was what heroes were for.

The
Lady walked away from the palace, bypassing her own soldiers so that they would
not try to stop her, and moved toward the nearest camp of mice that had taken
refuge on the bottom shelf of a bookcase.

Gathered
around a candle, they saw her approaching before she stopped in front of them,
but even so, they could do nothing but stare.

Olivia
took a deep breath.

“I wish
to be captured,” she said in her most commanding voice. “Now.”

The
mice looked at one another in surprise, but slowly they all began to grin.

“Of
cours–s–se,” hissed one of them. “Right this–s way, milady.” 

1

William
Ellington sat at the desk in his study, looming over paperwork, but not looking
at it. His hands were over his closed eyes, propping up his head over the
desktop. He sat there, deliberating.

He
was back inside this room because he couldn’t sleep–because he couldn’t bear to
hear his wife’s labored breathing so close to him on the mattress. It was
almost over.
By God!
Why could it not be over already?

It
had been his own idea to end Agatha’s life–his wife; the mother of his
children. There were several reasons why he had finally come to act on those
fantasies of having her die, and he would admit that most of them were selfish.
But was she not his wife–his property, like so many plots that he owned? He
should have been able to do with her as he wished. That was proper, wasn’t it?

It
was a thought such as that which had made the tiny devil on his left shoulder
triumph over the angel on his right. He justified his actions by that.

He
no longer remembered a time when he had loved her at all. They had simply been
a good match–her family having been suitable to his–but he wanted more than
that now. Even looking at his children brought him very little solace, though
he had nothing against those dears. Olivia perhaps, but not the others. Ah, his
Olivia. Would he miss her? He wasn’t sure.

The
love he had for his money and his own possessions was also another very good
point. Divorce was an option, but not one that could be considered seriously.
Agatha would take the children, and with them, she would have everything else.
He’d worked too hard to invest the money his father had given him–to build it
up and make it even greater than it had ever been. How could he let go of
everything that he’d worked for? The woman wasted that money, spending it on
trinkets. Would she have ever understood the value? He guessed not.

Then,
of course, there was Anne.

Such
grace and beauty… She should have been a rich man’s wife. William couldn’t say
that they had much of a relationship as far as knowing one another, but there
was undoubtedly a connection. She belonged in his sheets. There was a quiet
understanding between them, and though he hardly ever asked her what she
thought, she seemed to understand him. She could always guess his mood. That
woman knew her place, and he couldn’t escape her, even in sleep.

On
this night that he should have been concentrating on how he would act once
Agatha was dead, his thoughts could not stop drifting to the other woman. He
sat, battling the urge to go to her and find a brief ounce of comfort that would
prepare him for the next day, but he could not do that. What if he became
overwhelmed and told her everything? What if she did not take well to his
murder plot? No, he could not risk it.

The
whole thing had been his own idea, but it had been his nephew, Todd, who had
planned the precise working of it. It had just so happened that the clever
youth had come to him one day, overcome with love and begging William to give
Olivia to him. It was on this confession of desire that the gears in William’s
mind had begun to turn. The two of them had struck up a deal. If Todd could
craft a way to rid him of Agatha without being suspected of murder, he would be
allowed to take Olivia away with him without protest. Euan would stand against
him, but William would deal with that. They had made their promises.

The
young man had come through.

Todd
had provided a poison, and very methodically, the two of them had administered
it to Agatha in small doses. Over the past year, the constant presence of it in
her system had weakened her, and though she tried to hide it, it was noticed by
those who were closest to her. William acted concerned, and all the servants
were fooled. At her suddenly greater illness and death, which would come about
shortly, they would all say that they had seen it coming.

Tomorrow,
Todd would give the final, larger dose that would wreck the woman’s system and
make her dreadfully sick. Her death was promised within just a few days. Todd
would stay here with the rest of the family after that and make sure it came to
pass. Then, once it was over, he would go back to his studies, and later return
for Olivia. By that time, William would have secured what he had planned as
well–

The
sound of the door opening shattered his thoughts, and William jerked his head in
surprise to see someone entering so abruptly. His heart settled when he saw
that it was only Todd, looking flustered.

“I
can’t get into Olivia’s room,” the young man said.

For
a moment, William only stared at him, but then decided he likely didn’t want to
know why the young man was trying to get into the girl’s room at so late an
hour.

“Planning
to leave after all?” he questioned, already having rethought his earlier
nervous suggestion for that very thing. He needed Todd to stay and make sure
that the youth simply wouldn’t take his daughter and leave him with a very
sick, but not dying, wife.

“I
heard a loud noise up there and now the door is blocked by something,” Todd
replied indignantly, crossing his arms. “I just want to make sure she’s
alright.”

William
lifted his gaze to those words. Of the few things that he and Anne had ever
discussed together, Olivia was one. Anne had told him before that Olivia would
rise sometimes late in the night and play quietly, giggling softly and talking
to herself. William knew that the girl wasn’t normally violent–even though he
had allowed Todd the façade of the broken dolls earlier on in the night–so some
sort of loud disturbance was uncharacteristic indeed. Perhaps there was reason
to be concerned?

“What
sort of loud noise?” he inquired seriously.

2

Within
the house, a pair of marionette brothers treaded silently along with no aim or
purpose. They were only twins now, for the third of them had been cut down by their
own hands. Though they’d thought that Brooke’s death had been the only thing
they desired, Lakke and Rivere were somehow unfulfilled by it.

They
moved on without speaking. Lakke reveled in his depression while Rivere created
violent thoughts. When they had dragged the flesh woman down into the darkness
to the one who awaited her, they’d felt decently elated, knowing that they’d
destroyed the one who had betrayed them, and that the woman was going to get
what was coming to her. They’d waited. They’d watched. might from beneath their
expectant eyes, the woman had gotten away from the Master and escaped
completely.

Edge,
who was supposed to be working on the Master’s right hand, had aided the woman
and thwarted the following throng of toys and rodents by a flow of sewage.
Lakke and Rivere had been with that group, but had stopped before they had
fallen into the pit. With a shake of their heads, they’d simply left.

Now,
both told themselves that their unworthy brother was dead, but that did little
to console either of them and make their hearts content. They were led to
realize that it had not been Brooke who they were angry with to start.

In
the dark of the shaft, Rivere released an angry cry that echoed behind him as
well as before, but the intensity of it was hindered greatly by the whisper
that his voice had become. For once, Lakke had no words of encouragement.

“
What
are we doing
?” Rivere hissed. “
I should not feel so disgusted with
myself
!”

Lakke
remained silent a moment. Then he spoke.

“
I’m
sure they will find her again. When they do, I’m sure the situation will be
undoubtedly worse for her
.”

The
gears in Rivere’s mind had begun to turn. So, his brother admitted also that
the human woman was the true source of their displeasure? He had been the one
to suggest that they take the woman for themselves and destroy her from the
start! Perhaps though, it was not too late to remedy that.

“
Let’s
find her ourselves
,” said Rivere anxiously.

“
You
know that we
–” Lakke began to protest, but Rivere didn’t allow him to
finish.

“
If
they find her before we do, fine. And perhaps it will mean death if we kill her
ourselves, but mightn’t it be better to die feeling fulfilled than to keep
living in torment
?”

The blond
brother with the cracked face considered a moment, but it wasn’t long before a
smile emerged. Rivere smiled as well, knowing that they were both thinking the
same thing.

With
newfound zeal and unleashed ire, the two of them picked up their pace, moving
off to search for that wretched flesh princess for their own destructive
purposes.

3

Todd
and William made their way up to Olivia’s room, moving quietly through the
second floor hall without any light so as not to wake the house. They climbed
the stairs to the third floor, each one of them seeming to groan with the
annoyance of a testy old man. The two of them cringed with every disturbance to
the silence, but they eventually made it to the door of Olivia’s room.

William
reached out and gave the knob a twist, testing it. At the feeling of
resistance, he shook his head.

“This
door is not jammed, Todd,” he said quietly in annoyance. “It’s only locked.”

Todd
leaned around to examine the knob, wearing a look of confused disgust.

“Let
me see that,” he insisted, reaching out for the knob before William had even
stepped out of the way.

Todd
placed his hand on the bronze sphere and jerked it left and right. It didn’t
give. This was not how it had been before.

“No,
it wasn’t locked before,” Todd insisted. “I swear! That means that there’s
someone inside!”

“Anne
always keeps Olivia’s door locked at night,” William told him, trying to shut
down these foolish concerns.

“Look,
Anne’s not in her room either,” Todd insisted heatedly.

William’s
expression shifted to displeasure at the corners of his mouth and behind his
glasses.

“And
why were you in Anne’s room to learn that fact?”

“I
wanted to see if she knew where Olivia was,” the youth lied.

William
shook his head at the way Todd was acting. If he’d known the youth was capable
of getting so tightly wound, he might have chosen a better partner. It was too
late to go back on that now. The man moved to the table beside the door,
lifting up the plant there to retrieve the key that he knew remained there
always–only it wasn’t there this time. He didn’t speak this for the chance of
upsetting Todd even more, but the young man was already pressing at him again.

“Do
you have a key?”

“Not
with me,” William said, staring at the empty spot on the table in confusion.
“No.”

Todd
looked at the door again, fuming all the while.

“I
know it’s you, Anne!” he called out, much louder than he should have, beating
his hand against the door.

“Are
you mad?” William questioned, jerking the man’s arm. “Do you want to wake the
whole house?”

“I
want to get into that room. If they won’t let us in, we’ll barge in!” The young
man’s eyes were lit with inner fire. “Find me
a key
.”

4

The
mice escorted the Lady Sovereign deeper into the house than she had ever
dreamed of going. It was as if the very depths of her own conscious had
widened, expanding her world to a dark realm she would have never dreamed up
willingly. Her hands were bound and she was tied to her rodent captors with
strings, but she walked onward freely. The toys had been whispering to her
about the rodents for a while, telling her of the Rat King and his cruelty
toward them. Still, she’d never been able to truly fear the enemy. They were
only mice after all.

Even
through a bit of uncertainty for where she was going, the girl was brave and
silent.

The
mice led her down through the walls where the dust lived, and Olivia never once
wondered if she was doing something foolish. She knew how this worked. A lady
was captured and held for ransom, or as the hostage of some wicked sorcerer
that aimed to make her his bride. Sometimes the girl was frightened, but
sometimes she was quite strong, standing up to her captor and having faith in
her hero. That was the role Olivia would play. She knew that Armand would come
after her. He had to!

After
a long journey into the darkness and stench, the mice finally led the girl out
into a large room with a long, white floor. It was an attempt at something
grand, and the young ruler examined it impassively. It wasn’t long before her
eyes focused down the length of the room where she saw a wooden chair. Before
that chair sat a table, and from the top of it, blood dripped onto the floor. A
large rat was busily chewing away at something that was pink and fleshy. The
Lady Sovereign did not allow herself to cringe. What was that rat eating? Young
mice? She couldn’t tell. Her mind blocked out the gore with fluffy clouds,
shielding her.