In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1 (25 page)

Lucius takes my hand in his and slowly walks me outside. Bile rises in my throat. The tears are back, they sting at my eyes, spilling, burning the scrapes on my face. My stomach churns and I crumble, falling down to the small stones. Lucius pulls me up. I am placed in a car and he starts the ignition. A cold blast of air brings me center. He is taking me back.

Chapter
Thirty-two

It is my own private nightmare, replaying the same scene over and over. A demented song on the record player. Quiet and slightly out of tune. The sounds are tinny and fill the day with its promise of horror. Only problem; I am awake. Acutely aware of the insanity I am trapped in.

Leaving it seems, is not an option.

Lance stands in front of the black car I am trying to get into. He refuses to budge. Pinstripe suit, whose name I discovered, is Edward, stands next to him. They both stare back with straight faces, no emotion at all. My suitcases are all packed and lay at my feet. I’m getting the hell out of here. At least, I’m trying if they’d just cooperate.

“I am sorry, Ms. Duval, but I am not allowed to let you leave,” Lance says.

I try again to get past him into the car, but he’s like a statue, completely unmovable.

“You can’t fucking keep me here!” I scream and hit him with my purse, spitting a few choice words in his direction. He still won’t move. Part of me knows he is simply doing what he has been told. Aydin can be pretty scary looking. He is the one that has instructed the suits, Lance and Edward included, to make sure that everyone is safe. I really wish he was here. There is no way he would keep me from leaving.

I look back to Lance and my shoulders droop. The fact he is not allowing to me leave is unreal. I was assaulted, by the very person I had once loved, and am now being held a virtual prisoner.

“Do you know what just happened, Lance?” I stand close, making sure he understands just how pissed, hurt and betrayed I am. “And you’re going to make me stay here, with him?”

“My instructions are to keep you here, Ms. Duval,” Lance says. He looks to Edward, who walks to sit in the driver’s seat.

“Fine. Then I’ll walk.” I turn and set off down the circular drive.
Freaking jerk
. I’ll go to the damn town and find someone there to help me. It is getting late, the moon is shining bright in the sky. Lucius left me in my room only a few hours ago. That is how long it took me to pack up my clothing and drag it downstairs. No one stopped me then. I’ll be damned if they stop me now.

The sound of tires coming up behind me force me to turn and the car stops next to me. Lance is in the passenger seat, Edward at the wheel.

“Ms. Duval, we will take you where you want to go, but Lucius will only come to collect you,” Edward says. His face is kind and I can tell he feels bad.

“Thank you,” I say and climb in the back seat. “I’ll take my chances.” There is no way that Lucius will come to get me. His job is to make sure I am protected, and here in this demon infested castle, I am definitely not safe.

----------

Lance doesn’t lie. We are only an hour’s drive from the chateau. Edward doesn’t exactly have a lead foot, driving slower than a month full of Sundays. He pulls over on the old dirt road and removes his hands from the wheel. Both men sit, neither speaking.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “You said you would take me where ever I wanted to go, Lance.”

My door opens and I’m shoved to the opposite side of the car. Lucius slides in next to me and closes the door with a slam. Lucius grins, his pretty curls flopping and wraps his arm over my shoulder. “Sorry gentlemen, I would have been here sooner, but well, I stopped for a bite to eat.”

“You just killed someone?” I scream in horror.

“What? No. Silly, Little Bird. She is in a very deep and satisfied sleep in her bed,” Lucius grins, ear to ear.

“So, you just use super mind-bending powers to convince a woman to sleep with you, then .... you know.” I can’t even say it.

“I have no need to use my mind powers to bed a woman,” he says and flexes the muscled arm around my shoulders. “According to you, I am a very handsome specimen.”

“There is something wrong with you,” I say, disgusted and look out the window.

“More than likely,” Lucius agrees and pulls me closer. I try to back away, but he refuses to let go. “Let’s go, Eddie,” he says and taps on the headrest.

I shove at his chest, but, well, he’s huge and doesn’t move. His body is solid, its like fighting with a pro wrestler, completely futile. “You are seriously going to take me back there?”

“Yes, Little Bird.”

“After what Henri tried to do?”

“You needn’t worry about Henri, Charlotte.” Lucius’ eyes darken and he kisses my forehead.

“You lie like a no-legged dog!” I scream and hit his chest. “You’re supposed to keep me safe and here you are taking me right back to the wolfs den!”

“That colorful southern tongue comes out when you are angry!” Lucius laughs and squeezes my shoulder.

“You sick, twisted, mother-fucking son of a coward!” I scream. The tears start.
Damn it.
Red blurs my vision. “I bet your mother is real proud of you!”

“Hey, no need to bring my mother into this.”

“Fuck you, Lucius!” I’m crying, rage burning down my cheeks. “Do you fucking get employee of the fucking month for this?”

“My goodness, pretty little Charlotte, you could make a Roman blush,” Lucius laughs and pulls me closer. “Don’t let Aydin hear that mouth, he’d have a brain aneurysm.
”
　　

Chapter
Thirty-three

The music of insanity plays in my ears. Claudette pours wine in my glass. I sit, in a pretty embroidered dress, delicate yellow flowers woven in the chenille overlay. It is short, my legs are exposed. Deep bruises stare out at everyone, angry and dark on my legs.

No one speaks of the pink lacerations on my cheek, the thin layers of skin peeled back and raw. Or of the faint bruise under my eyes, the impact of my nose hitting the table. My lip is swollen slightly, a thin slice of broken skin in the corner. They ignore the dark bruises on my arms and thighs, the distinct outline of fingers giving away my secret. Their secret.

It is madness, it swirls around my head, and I stare at them in disbelief. I question of if I am dreaming. Surely, if they don’t see it, then it never happened. But I can feel it. It tears into me and makes me want to rip my hair out, there is no escaping it. Nothing can make the feeling go away, his intent to destroy me. My eyes meet Henri’s, it still lingers, his hidden part.

Ashur chats with my mother and Claudette. He smiles with love for his daughter. His fingers play with my mother’s hands, intertwining their fingers. Occasionally, he reaches up and skims his fingers over her hair.

My mother.

Her honey hair is tied back, loose, off her neck, enamel flower pins holding it in place. I am struck again by her young face. It is stronger than mine, her jaw harder, more square. I used to think she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Surely she must have been a princess of some far off land, taken away from her castle by her knight in armor, my handsome dark-eyed father. Night skies, filled with the light of a thousand stars, the eyes of the angels in heaven upon them, keeping them safe and free. Maybe he had stolen her away because her belly was already showing their secret love to the world. Emily and I, her two angels.

She has returned to her castle, and I wonder how many myths she holds. Seeing her face light up whenever she sees me, stings my soul. I want to hate her and pretend she is a horrible creature. But it hurts too much.

Abigail talks to Ashur, her is voice pleasant and cheery. Her eyes bright and blue, my eyes, never looking directly at me. When Henri speaks, she looks his way and talks back. My mother
talks
to him. I clutch the hem of my dress, the pain is too strong. I may actually break from it.

I can’t feel anymore, my heart has been left in that large empty room with metal beams. I can’t feel the pain, there is simply no more room. I pack up Henri’s anger and store it away, behind Emily’s face and my mother’s lies. My insides have been replaced with concrete, my bones made of steel.

I sip my wine, but I know better. They aren’t going to catch me off guard again. I wanted to stay hidden, tucked away in my room, but I knew if I hadn’t shown up, Henri would have won. He would have seen that he had broken something in me. I refuse to be broken.

My eyes drift to Lucius. He is watching the conversation and occasionally looks my way. Our eyes meet and I see it. He feels guilt. He knows how bad this hurts. Lucius turns back and watches Claudette talk, watches Henri wave his arms and laugh. Henri is telling a story. Something about Nanny and a wild hog.

I remember. When we were seventeen, Nanny had opened the house to let the crisp spring air in. Henri had taken me to the mill. We had been holding hands, he had been placing small kisses over my brow. So tender. I close my eyes at the memory. Henri. Sweet and loving. We had heard Nanny’s screams all the way from the main house. Henri had run, so fast, I couldn’t keep up.

It is a funny story, a happy memory. A wild hog had wandered into the house and was trapped in the kitchen with Nanny. She was screaming, standing on the kitchen chair, her arms waving wildly about her. Emily had saved the day by getting a long broom and yelling until the hog ran out of the house.

I can’t laugh or share in the story, filling in the details, about how Nanny had cursed, the foulest language we had ever heard from her. I sit mute. He is telling it for me, but I remember, he doesn’t have to remind me. Henri used to be good.

Part of me can see it. The lies they tell themselves so they can live in it. I even understand it. There is great power here, in the darkness of this world. In the lust for blood, for passion. The draw to power and the sins of the flesh. They all push away the ugly part, keep the secrets of their life and their cruelty hidden. Locked in trunks, out of the light of day. But it pounds, crashing at the sides, threatening to break free. Violence and blackness. Greed and sin. Even Aydin can’t keep himself from it.

“Isn’t that right?” Henri asks me.

Metal. I am made of metal.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” I say, dryly, the sound of my voice surprises me.

“Nanny swore she would find that hog and roast him for dinner,” he says, laughing. I used to love his laugh.

“Nanny always had a vengeful streak,” I say. “Must be where I got it.”

“You got that temper from your mother,” Henri says, he’s still laughing, it is all so funny.

“You should watch that temper, Charlotte,” Claudette smiles at me. “It’ll get you in trouble one day,” she laughs. She actually laughs, pretty and cruel. It matches the tinny music of my life.

I’d love to snatch her bald.

My wine calls to me. It can wash away the tight feeling in my chest. I can pretend. Just like them. Henri’s hands never forced me, never moved over places without my consent. Violating. Hating. I can lie too. I don’t have to feel any of it.

Metal. I am made of metal.

Claudette stands and glides to Lucius, his eyes meet hers and they darken. Lust fills them, and he takes her outstretched hand in his, brushing his lips softly against her fingers. Does he know that underneath her beautiful mask, the inside is lined in black? He has to. She barely bothers to conceal it.

They walk, without a word, from the room. Lucius pulled along by her wickedness, his boy face accepting. He does know of her true nature. He loves her anyway. Does he kiss her lips, blinding himself to her cruel ways, pushing aside the mean remarks and twisted smile? Taking the bits that are offered, ignoring the rest? As I have done, because simply, they aren’t all bad. It makes life bearable, pushing away the ugly, remembering only the good. The flashes of beauty and kindness. Aydin was wrong. I do hide the ugliness. I store it away and pretend I can’t see it.

The room falls quiet. Henri no longer talks, instead watches the fire, his face has no emotion. My mother stands and leaves the parlor with Ashur. No one speaks, only the light popping sounds of the fireplace fill the room. I want to run. I am left alone with Henri.

My wine glass is still full and I swish the dark red liquid around the edges, daring it to spill over. How have I gotten here? My life in Florida seems far away, a life that someone else has lived. I wonder if Janice misses me as terribly as I miss her.

“Would you like me to see you to your room?” Henri stands in front of me. My eyes find his. He looks normal. He looks like Henri.

Is he serious?

“I’d rather stab my eyes out.” My words shock even me. My voice is strong, unafraid. When did I become so daring?

Henri laughs. It is quiet sound, amused. I grip my glass to keep from clawing his face.

“You do have quite a sassy side.” He is enjoying this cat and mouse game. Henri offers his hand to me. “Come, I’ll tuck you in.”

It comes out then. The glint of meanness. It has been veiled under a chocolate layer flecked in gold. Is that where the darkness lies? Hidden in the gold sparkles in the iris? I have gazed into them so many times and seen only love. I trusted them and trusted him, completely blind. The windows to the soul and I somehow missed the evil that lay in them.

“So you can finish what you started?” My voice is a flat line. There is no emotion in it. I refuse to let him see it.

Henri crouches down in front of me, his forearms rest on his thighs, and his fingers weave together. He is smiling again. Anger seeps into my pores, it fills me up. There is so much rage, my head rushes. He puts his face close to mine, his voice low. His breath feels rancid. “Soon, there will be no one to keep you away from me.”

The surge of electricity steals my breath. My vision blurs and stars form in the corners. He tears at my metal core and leaves it shredded, the edges jagged and sharp. I can feel him, there is no blocking him out. He is rage. A ferocious storm that will destroy everything, leaving nothing but ruin in his wake.

Aydin.

Henri can’t feel it. He is oblivious to the target on his back. To the lightning that crashes in the distance. It gives me strength. Henri mistakes my silence for fear. He thinks he has won, some game where he holds the cards and I wasn’t told the rules.

“Did you enjoy your tour of the winery, Charlotte?” Aydin’s voice is cold, shards of ice that slice through the air.

Henri bolts up and spins to face him. His quick movements and red face give him away. He is scared, and he should be. Aydin stands maybe a foot from him, threatening. Aydin’s face is hard, the steel of his eyes frozen, frost glistening around the edges.

“It was very educating.” My voice is calm, like it belongs to someone else. Some woman who is stronger. Someone who doesn’t have to pretend she isn’t intimated by the boy she had loved.

Henri walks out in silence, leaving Aydin and I alone. My breath rushes out, relieved. Aydin sits at his usual place by the fire. I haven’t been so glad to see anyone in a long time.

“This is my fault. I should never have provoked him,” Aydin’s face is unreadable. “I’m going to kill Lucius.”

My laugh surprises Aydin, who looks over to stare. “That is exactly what Lucius said. I’m just glad he wasn’t any later.” My eyes fall down to my hands. The words came out lightly, but they carry more than I want to hear.

“Lucius is never late,” Aydin says. He stands and walks toward me, every movement fluid and graceful. He kneels down, his stomach at my knees.

My heart pounds in my ears. Aydin’s eyes are dark, the pupils dilated. The light reflects in them, making them shine. I hate that I can’t tell what he is thinking. I want to know every thought that passes behind his eyes. I reach up, without thinking, and I lightly brush his cheek with the back of my fingers. The hair on his face is soft. What is before me is only the ghost of what he had once been.

Aydin’s eyes close, a small breath is released. Something in his face changes and his eyes cloud. I take a deep breath, sucking in the spicy metallic taste in the air. Aydin brings a finger to his mouth, a glimpse of sharp teeth and it comes back with drops of blood. His blood. Lightly, he skims his fingers over the scratches on my face. His touch doesn’t charge under my skin. There is only a small sensation, like an embrace. My cheek tingles and the sharp sting fades. I look at him shocked, and his fingers move to my mouth. The metallic taste of blood hits my tongue, as he rubs his finger over my lip, pulling the corner down. The skin tingles before it fades.

Aydin pulls a cloth from his pocket and wipes my face before he runs his hands over my hair. I feel weak. I want to sink into him. There are so many things I want to say, but I don’t even know where to begin.

“There is nothing I can do about the bruises,” Aydin says. “You must give them time to heal.”