Pyromancist (37 page)

She could never avoid the shiver that ran
over her body every time she looked up at the dark house, thinking
about the unimaginable that had happened there. Like every time her
heart clenched for Josselin when she thought about the cruel
history.

Suppressing another shudder, she opened the
garden gate and pushed the bike to the porch. The front door stood
wide open. Erwan was expecting her. She left the bike on the grass
and ran up the steps. Erwan probably understood as well as Josselin
had that the old proclaimed haunted house was one of the safest
places to meet. No one would dare to go there.

The inside of the house was dark despite the
winter sun that still shone outside. All the windows were
shuttered. Clelia paused in the entrance for her eyes to
adjust.

“Erwan?” she said softly.

She removed her coat and left it on the chair
by the door. A light shone from the landing on the stairs. She was
making her way to the kitchen when she heard the floorboards creak
above. Backtracking, she glanced up the staircase and felt another
shiver run up and down her spine.

“Erwan?”

Clelia climbed the stairs slowly, following
the sound she had heard. She paused on the first floor landing,
hesitant to move forward. Although all the visual remains of that
horrible day had been removed, she knew this is where it had
happened, where Josselin’s father had killed his family. She
remembered Josselin’s expression when he had told her about it and
felt renewed compassion for her husband. No wonder white streaks
had turned up in his hair overnight.

Forcing the terrifying thoughts from her
mind, she took two steps forward. From where she stood, she had a
visual of the open front door, and somehow it gave her a sense of
reassurance. She wasn’t trapped. She wasn’t locked in. Clelia was
just about to call out to Erwan again when she heard a shuffling
behind the door nearest to her. Erwan ... he was here. She made for
the door, but before she could reach it, it opened, and the man who
stepped out made her suck in her breath.

She stared at him in confusion. “You?”

“Ah,” he gave her a charming smile, “we meet
again, Little Red Riding Hood of the woods.”

This didn’t feel right. What was the
journalist doing in Josselin’s house? Where was Erwan?

She reiterated. “What are you doing
here?”

“I was waiting for you,” he said, as if it
was something she should have known.

“I don’t want to talk about the fires. I
already told you so.”

He tilted his head and gave her a level look.
“All right.”

His cooperation confused her more. The last
time she had run into him, he had been pushing her to the point of
being rude. She didn’t know him at all, but his easy acceptance of
her refusal seemed out of character.

“If you’re not here to talk about the fires,
then what do you want?” she said. “Where is Erwan?”

His smile was painted on, like one of those
on the face of a porcelain doll. “Which question shall I answer
first?” He tapped his chin with his forefinger. “Mmm. Let’s see.”
His expression was one of mock concentration. “Let’s start with a
proper introduction, shall we?” The way in which his eyes flashed
didn’t look good. The gleam of excitement she caught there made him
appear cruel instead of friendly. “I’m Lupien,” he said. “I do
believe you’ve heard about me.”

Her mind was stuck on his name. The rest of
the words formed what she knew was a sentence, but she barely
registered its meaning. That one word he had uttered started
spinning around Clelia. His name echoed in her brain. She could
hardly believe her ears. The man from the forest ... the
journalist... It couldn’t be.

He regarded her with cold interest. “I see it
comes as a shock. Did you really not expect me?”

Her body felt weak and her knees shook.
Clelia prayed for strength, hoping that her legs wouldn’t fail her.
She was facing the man who had every intention of killing her, and
she had no means of defending herself, except for the little
knowledge that Josselin had given her. She pinched her eyes shut,
trying to hold onto the good and not to give in to fear.

“Ah,” he touched his hand to his forehead,
“where are my manners? The introduction isn’t complete. You must be
Clelia. Aren’t you going to give your daddy a kiss?”

This time his declaration hit her like a
punch in the stomach. Her composure faltered as she stumbled a step
backward. Where her mind had seemed incapable of functioning only a
few seconds ago, it kick-started back into action with a million
thoughts assaulting her all at the same time. Her father. Her
mother’s rapist. The man Erwan had warned her about, who had said
he would be back for her when the fires started. Cain’s opposition.
Josselin’s enemy. Many questions floated in and out of her head,
but she could formulate none. She could only stare at him with
sorrow.

“You look so much like your mother,” he said.
There was no pride in his voice. “She was such a pretty thing, a
pleasure to fuck, and she did put up a great fight. I’ve always
found resistance a turn-on.”

Clelia swallowed away the dryness in her
throat. “Why?”

She had to think, had to find a way to save
herself.

“Why what?” he said coldly. “You have to be
more specific with your questions. Your lack of assertiveness
disappoints me. I’m a firestarter, not a mind reader. I believe
that’s Cain’s level of expertise.”

“Why did you rape her? Why destroy her life
and those of her loved ones?” Even as she uttered the question, it
all became painfully clear. “Was it because you needed a new
firestarter whose power you could steal? There weren’t enough on
earth, so you decided to create one?”

It was ridicule and Clelia’s voice shook with
each syllable. She didn’t feel anger, only pain and rejection.

“You catch on fast. Your mother was a
firestarter–one of the strongest. I’ve spent my life tracking them
all, taking their art to make mine stronger. Your mother’s gift was
powerful, enough to enhance mine beyond compare, but I saw another
opportunity. If I could plant my seed in her womb, combine our
genes, and create someone with a gift stronger than hers and mine
together, I could come back when that gift was mature and harvest
it.”

Clelia shook her head. “You made her pregnant
with me, just so you could come back and kill me?”

He tilted his head. “Something like
that.”

Clelia looked around, panic making her feel
nauseous. “Where is Erwan?”

He inclined his head the other way. “Are you
seriously concerned about an old fisherman who is not even related
to you by blood?”

She almost laughed hysterically. “Should I
have been concerned about you, the man who raped my mother and
created me, abandoned me, and now is back to kill me?”

He studied his nails. “You are so terribly
emotional, Clelia. You have to admit, my plan was ingenious. I had
it all worked out to the very last detail, even to the date of your
mother’s ovulation. I could smell the bitch in heat from a
mile.”

Bile rose in Clelia’s throat for the evil in
the creature who had created her.

“Her name was Katik,” she said softly.

He flicked imaginary fluff from his sleeve.
“Whatever.”

Disbelief at his unaffected attitude filled
her. “She died giving birth to me. You killed her.”

“But of course.” He lifted his brow. “Didn’t
you know? All of the mothers who have ever given birth to a gifted
baby have died.” His lip lifted in one corner to reveal his teeth.
“That’s why they’re called forbidden babies.”

She frowned. “What ... what are you
saying?”

From his gloating expression, she gathered
that he enjoyed the distress his words inflicted. “No mother has
ever survived a forbidden baby birth.”

Clelia felt for the rail behind her and
grabbed it with both hands to support herself. If what Lupien had
said was true, it meant that she could never have a baby with
Josselin, unless she was willing to sacrifice her life. The grief
of the knowledge lashed at her. It left a deep, dark hole in her
heart.

She lifted her eyes slowly to Lupien’s. She
realized what he was doing. He was trying to make her angry, to
upset her, to twist the good in her into something he could use.
Instead of allowing the news to torture her, she forced her mind to
go somewhere else.

“Where is Erwan?” she said again.

Lupien smiled. He lifted his arm to the door
through which he had exited. “After you.”

She stared at the door hesitantly. Out here,
on the landing, with the open front door downstairs, she felt
slightly better about having a chance at escape. To be inside a
closed room with Lupien wasn’t a good idea.

She lifted her chin. “If Erwan is really in
there, bring him out here.”

He grinned. “Getting brave, daddy’s little
girl? I like it. Dare suits my offspring better than the sickly,
shy submissiveness I sniffed on you the first time I saw you.”

He turned abruptly and entered the room. The
quick movement made her jump. Clelia was too much on edge to focus.
She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

When Lupien exited again, all hope of getting
her nerves under control vanished. He carried a chair on which
Erwan sat, tied up and gagged, as if it weighed nothing more than a
wet fish, and flopped it down in front of her.

Clelia gasped. She could only stare at Erwan
with a mixture of relief that he was alive, and angst for his and
her own, fate.

“Here’s your precious Erwan,” Lupien said,
plucking the rags and the tape that had held it in place from
Erwan’s mouth.

Erwan flinched, but not a sound came from his
lips. He regarded Lupien with much hatred as he moved his jaw.

“Now, this was an easy fish to catch,” Lupien
said, rounding Erwan’s chair. “The old man thought he could hide
from me by island hopping. The minute I showed my face in town, he
came running out of his hiding hole like an old dog with its tail
behind his legs to avenge his daughter.” He bent over Erwan. “Still
angry that I ... how shall I put it...” he flicked his hand in the
air, “...deflowered your fire witch and fucked her out of her
honor?”

Erwan’s lips pulled back over his teeth, but
he held his tongue.

Lupien twirled to face Clelia, making her
jerk again. “You were a tougher cookie to crumble. The way you
disappeared almost made me proud. I could have gone running after
you, but I knew your beloved Josselin would do all the work for me.
All I had to do was sit back and wait for him to hunt you down. Has
he fucked you yet?” His mouth lifted when she flinched. “Yes. He
fucked you. Good. That’ll make it all the sadder for him when I
destroy you.”

“Leave him out of this,” Clelia said.

Lupien’s mouth fell open in a theatrical
gesture. “Leave him out of this? Oh, but he’s part of the subplot,
don’t you see? When I’m done taking what belongs to me, the
blood-sucking Josselin will be easy to defeat. With Josselin gone,
Cain will be crushed like a fat tick bursting under my shoe.”

“And what exactly belongs to you?” Clelia
said, stalling for time.

“Why, you, of course. I only lent you life to
use you as breeding ground. You should get over that. Your distress
at being an object serving my purpose is getting boring.”

Erwan spoke for the first time. “Let her
go.”

Lupien threw his head back and laughed. “Or
else?”

“You’ve got me now,” Clelia said, “so let him
go.”

Lupien’s grin turned into a sneer. He looked
from Clelia to Erwan. “The two of you make me sick.”

Anger flashed in his eyes, and in a movement
too fast to be entirely human, Lupien withdrew a revolver from his
pocket and pressed it against Erwan’s temple.

Clelia stopped breathing all together. Her
hands lifted in a pleading motion and it was only then that she
noticed how badly they were shaking.

Lupien rubbed his chin through Erwan’s hair.
“Shall we restage the spectacle that Josselin’s father so
beautifully pulled off...” he glanced around, “...right here? His
brains were here.” Lupien caressed the wall with his free hand.
“And the bitch was just there,” he motioned to Clelia, “exactly
where you’re standing.” He closed his eyes and rolled his head
back. A visible tremor ran over his body. Lupien grabbed his crotch
and groaned loudly. “Ah, yes, just the thought turns me on. What a
piece of art.”

“You’re a sick man,” Clelia said, her voice
filled with pity.

Lupien lifted his hand to the ceiling. “The
breeding ground of evil.” He licked his lips in a disgusting
motion. “I think I may stay here for a while, after my job is done,
take a little holiday and burn a few things.” He shivered with
unconcealed pleasure.

Without warning, Lupien’s show ended. He
cocked the gun and pressed the barrel until it dented Erwan’s
flesh. “I won’t do it fast. I’ll scale him like a fish, cutting his
skin off piece by piece, and then I’ll gut him. That would be an
appropriate way for a fisherman to die, wouldn’t it?”

Clelia’s pain, pity, and fear started making
way for disgust and anger. It boiled up inside of her and there was
nothing she could do to prevent the feelings from entering her
heart. As the first, tiny bubble of fury popped to release its
poison, a small ball of fire sprouted up at Lupien’s feet.

At first Clelia only stared at it in
confusion, thinking that she was seeing Lupien in action, but then
her eyes widened with panic as she felt the incredible feeling that
reached from the tips of her fingers, ran through her organs, and
touched her mind. Everything suddenly seemed so clear. Her senses
were heightened. A new feeling of strength flowed through her
veins.

She looked from Erwan to Lupien. Just a
second was enough to tell her what they were feeling. Erwan stared
at her with that look of regret and knowledge she had seen on his
face when he had told her about her mother and Lupien’s dark eyes
gleamed with satisfaction.