In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1 (24 page)

Chapter
Thirty-one

Normal. That is what he promised. It is still early, the sun has a few more hours before it is to set. Henri has taken me to the village for dinner and we sit in a small restaurant, eating rich foods and laughing. It does feel normal. It is nice, and for the first time in days I feel relaxed.

The chateau is like living in another dimension. I live in the night almost as much as my mother. Being out where people still smile, they laugh in the sun and play with their children, I am reminded that the outside world does exist. I have been trapped in the dark of the castle. It’s secrets keep me cold and under a spell. Sitting in the restaurant, I can breathe fresh unstained air. No worrying about saying the wrong thing, trying to keep Emily’s secret. And now, to keep Aydin’s.

Henri is chatting about something. I’m not paying attention, just watching his lips move. Enjoying the normalcy, and the way he looks at me. Coyly. Sharing the knowledge that we attract each other. Like, the world I have discovered in France doesn’t exist. He is beautiful, he is good. I push away his outburst, the night of the Celebration and his lies, pretending everything is OK.

I can do this. I can be with Henri. I can live in France and make love to the boy I have wanted my entire life. I can love him the way I used to. It will be easy. We can’t regain what we had been, but maybe we can build something else. Something stronger, with more substance.

But, Aydin forces his way into the fantasy. I keep remembering Lucius’ words. Don’t tempt him. It is all I want to do. Aydin consumes every waking moment. It has become worse, and I have allowed him to take front and center. It is like he has awakened something in me, a part I thought had died with Emily. Pieces that were locked away, the ones that carry happiness and promise.

Part of me wants to be rid of him. He is too heavy, but he refuses to leave me in peace. The worst part is Aydin has left for his trip, and it has been almost a week since I have seen him. It is disturbing how much I think of him. And his desire. I can’t push it away. I want it, I want him, his everything. He’s fed me bits, but I am a greedy creature and want more. He has shown me his world, its beauty, through his eyes. I don’t know why. I don’t feel like I am worthy of any of his offerings. I know I am not.

“You aren’t listening,” Henri says.

“Sorry, I was distracted,” I confess. “My life has become very strange.”

Henri holds his hand up, “No, we aren’t talking about any of it today. You need a break. Hell, I need a break.”

I agree, I do need a break. How did he grow up with this and turn out sane? Maybe he hasn’t. Perhaps he wears a mask like everyone else.

Henri orders sweet desserts and insists on feeding me bits. His fingers graze my lips, my face. He is sensual and loving. I return it, kissing the tips of his fingers as they touch my mouth. I ignore Aydin’s eyes when I close mine, and kiss Henri’s lips.

“Maybe we should get back,” Henri says, his voice low.

I smile, but shake my head. I don’t want to. The chateau is too filled, too empty.

“Show me the winery,” I suggest. “I’ve been here two weeks and have yet to see it.”

Henri grins. “We can do that.”

We walk, hand in hand, through the vineyards. The winery comes into view. Its thick walls and tiled roof spans out over a low hill. Tall windows look out over the fields, empty black eyes. A few lights shine dimly from the first floor, flickering in the fading daylight.

Henri guides me toward the back of the building, a second entrance, with large warehouse style doors, that lead to a massive factory. The building attached to the main house is new, he tells me, added only in the last century. The machines used to produce the wine are the same. For hundreds of years the family has kept the winery running, producing the same products. It is romantic. Generations of families holding its traditions.

I sample some wine, swishing it in my mouth and spitting it out as Henri shows me. I don’t detect the fruity undertones or oaky flavors. I laugh instead. He is in love with me, I can see it. I can feel it every time he brushes his fingers over my arms and cheeks.

I can do this
.
　

---------

My legs are sore and I keep my hand on the wooden handrail as we walk up the stairs from the dark storage room filled with wooden aging barrels

“Did Abigail tell you? Of Aydin?” Henri asks, abruptly. He has seemed distracted while we made our way back up from the cellar.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I know she did. That is why you have taken such a sudden interest in him. You always had a thing for wounded animals.” Henri stops, we stand on the landing that leads to the fermentation room. His face has changed. He no longer looks friendly. “He gave you his blood. That is why you feel drawn to him.”

“I’m not drawn to him,” I lie. Of course, I lie. “And he’s not a wounded animal.”

Henri sees right through me. I avoid his eyes. He has no right to even ask. So what if I know? I deserve the truth.

I am relieved when I walk into the fermentation room. It is dark, no light shines through the grime smeared windows that line the exterior wall. Dim fluorescent tubes hang from exposed beams giving the room a pale blue glow. The metal tanks look dull and dingy in the stark light.There are long wooden tables lined down the center, small boxes stacked at the legs.

“It’s not your fault. He should never have given you his blood,” Henri says, almost to himself.

“It’s none of your business, Henri. That is between Aydin and me.”

“It is my business, you are my business.” Henri’s voice rises as he speaks. His face takes the same angry look I had seen before.

“No Henri, I am not.”

“He is not what you think he is, Char.”

“I’m not discussing this.”

“He killed Emily!” Henri yells at me. He steps closer.

“Hardly! You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I saw her, Char,” his eyes burn into mine. “I was waiting at the plantation with Abigail. By the time we got there, it was too late.”

I can’t speak and look away. It is unbearable to think he had seen her. But he hadn’t seen what she had done, only what Aydin had created. “It wasn’t his fault. It was an accident. I was there remember.”

Henri grabs my arm, rough. I stumble, losing my balance as he swings me to face him. “You remember don’t you? You remember him there?”

I refuse to answer. My silence confirms it, but it doesn’t matter. Henri would see through my lies.

“It’s no wonder you are all over him.” Henri’s voice is cruel, his fingers dig into my arms. “Your
savior
.”

“Get your hands off of me,” I spit out. I tug at his hands trying to get away. His grip only tightens. I’m pulled hard against him, and he wraps his fist in my hair, yanking my head back. I gasp as pain shoots through my skull. My hand flies up to grab his, my other pulls at his shirt.

“Do you like the fact that he watched you?” Henri’s voice is verging on mad. I shrink back at his anger. “Is that what it is? Your protector. He’s not so powerful now is he?”

“He’s more powerful than you.”

“Is that why you want to fuck him?” His voice is too loud and he shakes my head. “You fucking whore! You’d fuck everyone except me!”

Henri’s eyes are wild. The boy I loved has left, replaced by this mad man with dark eyes and a crazed face. My heart starts to pound and the air is full of my fear. “If you hurt me, Aydin will break your neck.”

This was the wrong thing to say. Henri’s face twists, his mouth turns down, contorting at my words. He pulls violently at my hair, yanking my head back further, forcing a shriek from my mouth. His other hand grabs my face, the fingers sinking into my cheeks. A nasty smile turns his once beautiful mouth, cruel.

“Is that what you think? You think he has any power over me? He can’t do anything to me. Aydin is not allowed to touch you! He’s privileged I even allow him to talk to you!” He screams the last few words. The manic sounds ricochet of the walls, bouncing off the metal containers. It rings out loud and filled with malice. His face is inches from mine, his eyes insane. His anger fuels my own. I am furious, scared and just as crazed. Full of bad ideas and have lost all control of my mouth.

“He touched me, his hands were all over me,” I smile, my voice low and throaty. I am playing with fire. I know I will get burned. No, engulfed, in its rage. I can’t seem to stop, my vision is blurred, I can only see red.

Henri shoves me hard, my back hitting a table with painful force. The pain sears through me and I cry out. He moves forward pressing his body to mine. His fingers twist my hair pulling the strands harder. His other hand moves down, lifting the dress I had picked out, the one I know he likes. With pretty lace on the low cut neckline and the slit that shows my thighs. Panic rises in my throat. Razor sharp hands, cutting the flesh, choking me.

“You like him, huh?” His voice is deep and hoarse. His hand slides under the thin fabric of my underwear, digging into the skin of my backside. Shocked, I hit him hard, knocking into this temple. I shove at his chest, pushing, desperate to get away. Tears burn. I scream at him, throaty desperate sounds, muffled by the tall metal cisterns.

The force of his hand hitting my face turns the corners of my eyes black. The pain rages in my skull, my eyes blur. I stop struggling as pain radiates from my mouth. He pulls back and hits me again, the back of his hand splitting the skin. My scream catches in my throat.

Henri turns me away from him, the hand intertwined in my hair pushes my face down toward the table. My nose hits hardwood. The shock forces a small grunt of pain from me. Trickles of blood flow out, wet and warm. He holds my face to the jagged wood, smearing my cheeks in the blood.

My cheek burns, my mouth throbs. I can’t scream. I can’t breathe. My arms are weak as I try to push back from the table. Henri presses me down. Holds me there, forces me still. His strength is unbelievable. He outweighs me, he is taller, larger, meaner. Driven.

Henri grinds against me harder, I can feel his excitement through his jeans, the fabric rough on my skin. His thigh spreads my legs apart. His hands dig into my skin, pulling at my panties, possessive and angry. The sound of his zipper makes me freeze. I choke on the realization of what is to come.

My mind goes blank, only one picture taking focus. My childhood home. Emily and I running through the woods, our hair flowing behind us, our mouths open in screams of delight. Henri chasing us. He is going to catch us unless we run fast. Faster. The sun touches the tips of the leaves, filtering through the thin canopy of live oaks. Spindly pines fighting for their space on the forest floor, their fuzzy hands reaching for the sky. Moss hangs, the velvety fingers caressing the arms of the trees. Leaves and dirt under our feet. Soft ferns reach out brushing our ankles. The earth is damp, rich with the scent of moist dirt and decaying leaves. The air light and fill of promise.

And then he is gone. There is complete silence. I push back quickly turning and pulling my dress back down. Sobs catch in my throat. Blood runs slow from my nose and a split on my bottom lip. I wipe at it, slick and warm. My stomach churns and I bring my thighs together tight.

Lucius’ soft, almost boyish face, looks back at me, his mouth a thin line. He stands perfectly still, his huge hand holding Henri by the back of the neck. Henri’s arms are stretched out in surrender as if a gun is pointed in his face. There may as well be. Lucius’ face is a mask of serenity, but his eyes give him away. The dark blue is clouded, a storm of rage behind them, so intense I look away.

Lucius releases Henri and gently smooths his brown hair. He slaps Henri’s cheek, playfully, and smiles. “You play too rough, my boy.” Lucius sounds almost cheerful, as if he hadn’t just stopped Henri...I close my eyes and fight the tears.

Lucius fixes Henri’s shirt and pulls his jeans around his hips. Henri’s jaw clenches, his eyes stare straight ahead as Lucius buttons the pants, pulls at the zipper, tugging it closed.

“Abigail would like to have a word with you. Don’t worry. I’ll get Charlotte home safe. I know how you worry over her,” Lucius says, a smile pressed on his lips.

Henri walks out, his back stiff, fear flowing from him, mixed with rage.

Lucius steps to me holding out a white cloth. My body is numb. I can’t move. I am made of ice. Frozen in place, my feet binding me to the floor, the ice gliding up freezing my arms, chilling my brain that refuses to work. When I don’t reach for it, Lucius is brings it to my face, wiping the blood from my nose.

“Charlotte,” Lucius’ voice is honey. His softness melts me and my knees weaken. “You are OK now, he has left and he won’t touch you again.”

“OK,” I nod, understanding. Lucius starts to pace in front on me, his brows together, his face... I’m not sure what his face holds. Fear?

“Aydin is going to kill me.” Lucius’s voice is hoarse, his words a statement. “He’s going to fucking kill me.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “Henri, almost...you know....and you’re worried about Aydin?”

“I’m your Guardian. Henri should never have been left alone with you,” Lucius pauses his manic pacing. “Aydin told me to watch him.”