Mathieu (16 page)

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Authors: Irene Ferris

BOOK: Mathieu
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Susan shoved Carol roughly as she made to walk around the table to get to Jenn. “Stay out of this, you old bag. Last time anyone listened to you, they ended up dead.” Carol paled and tears welled up in her eyes before she turned her back to the room and sobbed.

Dwayne curled up as much as he could in his chair, hands covering his head as he started to whimper and rock back and forth.

Mathieu’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head in pleasure as the anger and pain in the room grew thick and heady. “No,” he whispered to himself. “Stop this.” He balled his fists and concentrated on pulling the darkness back inside but it reveled to be free and danced around the room, drawing the others further into its spell.

Eddie pulled Susan back by one arm. She spun and slapped him hard across the face, once, then twice. She ignored his look of shock and hurt as he held his cheek with one hand, turning instead to walk around the table with an air of pure malice.

“Jenn,” Marcus said in a low voice. “Stop it. Don’t get into this.” He put a hand on her shoulder, but she violently shrugged it off.

Susan leaned forward and mocked, “Yeah, Jenn. Whatever are you going to do? Be a good girl for your master now. I could show him a few things, you know.”

“I’m going to do this.” Jenn reached over to the dish drainer on the countertop beside her and pulled out a knife. “I’m going cut out your tongue so I don’t have ever hear you talk again, and then your eyes so you can’t ever look at him again, you bitch.”

Susan
blanched at sight of the knife and then her face hardened. The two women stared at each other and the room was silent in shock.

“No.” Mathieu stared at the knife in Jenn’s hand. “No.” He could barely speak, his breath coming in gasps as he struggled to regain control. “Stop this,” he begged the darkness.

Dwayne pulled his head up from the table, met Mathieu’s eyes and then picked the silver basin of water up and threw it on both women, drenching them both.

They both jumped and then froze. The lights brightened as both dripping wet women stared at each other in shock. Jenn looked at the knife at her hand with wide eyes and dropped it to a floor. It clattered at their feet.

“Oh God, Jenn. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Susan started shaking and crying as she looked at the pale woman crying silently at the table. “Carol, I didn’t mean it. I swear, I would never say anything to hurt you in a million years. Please don’t hate me.” She fell backwards into Eddie’s arms and sobbed brokenly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Jenn shuddered as she kicked the knife away. “Oh my God. What just happened? That wasn’t us.” She looked back at Marcus. “Baby, that wasn’t us,” she repeated.

Mathieu groaned as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor and closed his eyes, resting his head on his knees. Cold sweat stood out on his face as caught his breath. “It wasn’t you,” he confirmed in a hoarse voice that caught in a sob. “It was me.”

“What the fuck was that?” Marcus spun around and dropped to a crouch in front of Mathieu as Jenn and Susan fell into each other’s arms and then into Carol’s. Eddie awkwardly petted first one back, then another while Dwayne held his silver basin and watched the tableau on the floor intently.

Mathieu shook his head and looked up. After a moment he sighed and shrugged. “Now you know my true nature.”

Marcus’
eyes narrowed. “Your true nature? Your true nature? What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that he can’t help it.” Dwayne spoke quietly from where he stood. “It means that he’s stuck with it the way I’m stuck with my voices.”

“Your voices don’t almost get us killed.” Marcus didn’t look away from Mathieu.

“You don’t have the slightest clue what my voices tell me do to you, now do you?” Dwayne sighed and then left the room.

“That is so something I didn’t need to hear right now.” Eddie groaned and then turned back to Susan. “Come on, baby. It’s okay, I love you. Let’s get you into something warm and dry.”

Susan snuffled and nodded before hugging Jenn and Carol one last time. Her eyes were a shocking blue from crying, glowing in the kitchen fluorescents.

Marcus still glared down at Mathieu. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Mathieu looked down, wiped at the tears that rolled down his cheeks with the heel of his hand. “I lost control.”

“Lost control of what?”

“The darkness.”

Punching the wall behind Mathieu, Marcus yelled, “That’s not an answer. Tell me the truth.” At Mathieu’s flinch he continued, “When are you going to understand that I’m not going to hurt you? I’m not going to do anything to you. I don’t understand why you keep doing that.”

“You look like it,” Mathieu blurted as he cringed away. “You look just like it when you’re angry.”

Marcus took a deep, calming breath. “I’m not Gadreel. He’s gone. You know that. I’m not going to hurt you. But you need to tell me what the darkness is or I can’t help you.”

“It just is.”

“It is what? I can’t help you unless you tell me the truth.”


I’ve never lied to you.” Mathieu straightened. “Not once. I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“Tell me the truth.” Marcus leaned forward, his face mere inches from Mathieu’s. Mathieu tried to force his body through the wall behind him to get away but the physical constraints of plaster and wood held him where he was.

Jenn, still shivering in reaction, watched them both with pitying eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” Mathieu repeated. “Unless it was to say that I may have become that which I hate.” He lunged to one side and away from Marcus, scrabbling on the floor for the knife Jenn had kicked away.

“Hey! Hey! Stop that! Put that down!” Jenn yelled at him as his hand wrapped around the wood hilt of the knife.

Not responding, Mathieu gripped the knife close to his chest. He regained his feet and ran to the kitchen door. Throwing it open, he ran into the night. The stars were clear and bright over his head, the air cool as his steps thudded against the ground, taking him further and further away from the house with its people and air of anger and pain.

C
hapter Twenty - Four

“This,” said Gadreel, “is a most amazing invention.” It kicked the crossbow out of the dead archer’s hands.

Mathieu remained silent. The battlefield stretched around them. The wounded twitched and moaned. Those closest to death actually saw him and reached out in the hopes of succor. His heart broke to know that he could give them nothing but more pain.

“Just when I think your kind has thought of every device or machine that could be used to kill, they surprise me with something new. Or in this case something old made new again.”

Looking at the item in question, Mathieu thought to himself that it wasn’t as much a new invention but one that simply hadn’t been used to great effect before.

“I thought the longbows were impressive,” continued Gadreel. “But these little things are able to punch through plate with no problem at all.”

Gadreel continued through the field of corpses, stopping here and there to look closely at this or that.

“Of course, I’d say that the longbows won this battle.” It looked around and then said to Mathieu, “What was the name of this place again? I forget.” It paused and then sighed. “I command you.”


Agincourt.” Mathieu felt the word pried from his lips.

“Agincourt.” Gadreel repeated the name and then smiled. “This will be a battle that goes down in history. Mark my words.”

“Yes, master.” Mathieu said the words automatically now. Anything less would result in punishment and pain.

Gadreel snorted. “Of course, you don’t think that this was an honorable battle, do you? Archers against cavalry?”

It was best to remain silent and look within when Gadreel was in one of these moods. Mathieu wondered why he didn’t follow that wisdom more often.

“Answer me. I command you.” Gadreel said in a bored sing-song tone.

“No, master. It is not honorable. The archers can kill the cavalry before they even have a chance to engage the enemy.”

“Hmmm.” Gadreel appeared to ponder the issue for a long moment before speaking again. “I think that I agree with you from the viewpoint of chivalry. From the viewpoint of practicality and of winning, I have to agree with the use of archers. Plus the fear that the cloud of arrows inspired was sweet indeed. Do you not agree?”

Mathieu remained silent.

“Do you not agree?” Gadreel said again. Its voice was menacing.

After a long pause Mathieu spoke. “Perhaps.”

“Perhaps nothing. You felt it as much as I did.” Gadreel made an exasperated gesture and turned back to the battlefield. “It was erotic. The sight of all those arrows whizzing in to kill them, blocking out the sun, punching through their armor, knocking their horses from under them. That was sweet.”

“Perhaps.” Mathieu repeated the word very deliberately.

“Once again you fail to realize that you are mine and that which is sweet for me is sweet for you.” Gadreel spoke as it kicked the corpse of a longbowman.

“I don’t think so.” The words escaped Mathieu’s lips before he realized what he had said.

Gadreel
smiled, a slow, evil smile that promised pain and fear and all the horrible things it could do. “I think so. I know so. You’re bound to me and that means you’re like me.” It walked up to Mathieu and grabbed the iron chain. “After all, we already are alike in our own little way, aren’t we?”

“No.” Mathieu said the word as defiance against the Demon lord. Inside he knew that Gadreel was probably right but he would never admit it. “I am nothing like you.”

“Oh, I disagree. And I think I should punish you for disagreeing with me. It’s very disrespectful. Maybe a good beating before I force you on one these bodies would change your attitude.”

“Hardly. You’ve done worse, after all.”

“True. True, that. Perhaps this time I should change you into a woman and leave you amongst the army. You’re pretty enough to be a woman now, you know. Maybe I’d keep you that way long enough for them to put a brat or two into you to teach you a lesson.”

Mathieu met the cold blue eyes and sneered even as he felt terror inside. “I doubt sincerely that you’d do such a thing. If you’re not the one inflicting the pain, you don’t want anything to do with it.”

Gadreel processed this for a moment and then nodded. “True enough. I’m the jealous sort. But that doesn’t change the meat of the matter. You’re still bound to me and you’re still changing to suit me.”

“I still hate you with all my being and soul,” Mathieu replied. “I’ll fight you till there is no breath in my body.”

“That’s fine.” Gadreel smiled as it looked around the battlefield. “After all, hate and love are so closely linked, they’re almost interchangeable. I’m halfway there.”

“Fuck you.” Mathieu said with no heat at all.

“You already have. You’ve been enjoying it lately, if memory serves correctly.”

Mathieu felt his cheeks heat with color. “You give me no other choice. It doesn’t change the fact that I despise you.”


No. But that doesn’t matter. Eventually you’re still going to be a reflection of me.” Gadreel turned and gestured towards the battlefield with its carrion birds and stench. “This is what I am. And this is what you are. I feel compelled to repeat that you’ve fought the truth so long and so hard that you’ve forgotten that you’re going to be what I make you.”

“No.” Mathieu said with a flat finality.

“Oh? So instead you’ll just be one of the many bastard sons of the Count of Anjou, not even worthy of the occasional visit except when he comes to get your mother with child again?”

“Anything is better than being what you are.” Mathieu winced inwardly again. When would he ever learn?

“Anything?” Gadreel smiled wickedly as it pulled off its gauntlets and stalked forward. “I don’t think you’ll say that after I’m done with you this time.”

C
hapter Twenty - Five

Mathieu’s feet carried him down the hill and away from the house, back towards the woods. The moon was almost full and it illuminated the grass and trees with a silvery light. Crickets chirped around him, accompanied by the occasional sound of a night bird or bat.

He slowed and then stopped near the edge of the woods. Casting his senses out, he first felt the wards set on the property lines and then behind him the blankness that was the house.

The wards got a closer inspection this time. They were old. Old enough to predate not only Amanda’s occupation of the house but also old enough to predate anyone currently living. They had a worn feel to them but they were still strong. Someone long ago had placed them and placed them well.

“But for what?” The sound of his own voice startled him and he jumped before making a disgusted noise at his own skittishness.

He traced a symbol in the air, and made another disgusted noise as nothing happened. “Of course. They won’t let me leave without an
Orbis
.”

He then turned his attention to the ground at his feet. With a quick glance at the knife, he fell to his knees and began to cut a perfect circle into the grass.

It
was hard going. The roots were deep and wanted to pull the knife away but he controlled the blade as he finished the first circuit.

The second was harder because he had to reach out further and not overbalance as he made the cut but he still managed to complete it.

He leaned back on his haunches and frowned at his circle. He could work on the living grass but it was not his preferred medium. With a shake of his head, he brought the knife down again and cut the sod into sections and began to pry it up. It would be easier to inscribe the spell on the bare earth and then put the sod back down. It would also help cover his tracks by obscuring the symbol for his destination.

He’d almost finished that dirty job when he heard a single set of footsteps come near from the direction of the house.

“Two perfect circles the first time. In the dark, no less. I’m impressed.”

Marcus did sound impressed but Mathieu didn’t stop to look. He cut and pulled another piece of sod up and laid it next to the circle. “I’ve had centuries of practice. The penalty for not getting it right the first time could be…” He paused and searched for a polite word. “Severe. I learned quickly.”

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