Futile Flame (21 page)

‘I’ve always enjoyed watching you eat.’ Caesare smiled companionably.

I swallowed again. His scrutiny made me feel uncomfortable. He reached once more for the decanter, removed the stopper and poured the wine slowly into his glass. In the old days, watching him drink this much, I would have become anxious. My brother became crueller when he drank. Now I knew that, like me, the alcohol would have no effect on him at all. This thought was even more terrifying.

I waited as he swirled his drink in his hand. His eyes pierced the bottom of the glass as he looked deeply into it like a fortune-teller reading a crystal ball. I dabbed my lips with the napkin. I felt revived, back to full strength. I realised that unless I learnt to allay the effect, Caesare could subdue me with his spells at anytime. I reached for my glass once more and my brother fell from his trance to look up at me. He watched me sip lightly at the wine. His eyes traced the flick of my tongue as I licked my lips to remove traces of the liquid. His gaze narrowed. I pulled my napkin up to my mouth again in a reflex gesture that was more than self-conscious.

His eyes changed from green to red in a blink. I felt his lust powerfully transmitted to me, overwhelming my aura, suffocating my psyche. I gasped for air, as passion soared through my blood in response to his power. Caesare towered over. My head threw back with a will of its own as I lolled in the chair like a drunken whore displaying her wares for a customer. His hands worked at the bodice; sharp nails shredded the fabric as if it were paper.

My breasts spilled from my chemise into his warm hands as I watched him through lust-filled eyes. My body ached with desire as I saw his fangs lengthen. His mouth lowered to my white flesh, teeth grazing the skin until I squirmed with yearning. He reared his head a little, teasing my nipple with the tip of his tongue.

I felt my own fangs emerge from their sheaths in response, the blood throbbing through my gums making me dizzy.

Don’t let him bite you
. Miranda’s familiar voice echoed in my head pushing back the lust spell.

‘No!’ I gasped.

He chuckled deep in his throat.

‘You want me, my dear, as much as I desire you.’

‘No.’ I pushed away, throwing my chair backwards while ripping myself from his grasp. ‘I will never willingly let you touch me. You’ll have to kill me, Caesare! You’ll have to kill me! Do you understand?’

I raced across the room, past where he had sat by the fireplace, and ran full pelt towards a door, which was half covered with another tapestry. An invisible force physically wrenched me backwards. I slammed painfully against the table.

My breath huffed out from me. I lay for a moment stunned on the floor. Caesare stood above me. As I looked up the back of his hand whipped down and slammed against my cheek, fracturing bone and throwing me hard back against the stone floor. Blood burst from my nose and I felt my flesh rip where I’d been struck. A momentary pain surged through my face and nose. Red fluid, my life force, poured from the wound briefly before flesh and bone knitted back together repairing itself with barely an ache.

He reached for me again, lifting my struggling body above his head, before throwing me roughly onto the dinner table, scattering the settings, which clashed and clattered across the floor. Then his arms pinned me down as he glared closely into my face. I cried out with shock. His features were feral. His bottom lip bled where his fangs repeatedly bit into it.

‘Damn you! Let me go!’ I cried.

As if my words held power, invisible hands caught him. They pulled him roughly away from my trembling body.

It was then I saw them. Tiny people! All around the room they materialised, as if from nowhere. They never moved. The whites of their eyes exposed their presence as they blinked in unison. I tried to focus on them, to see their features more clearly, but once again the darkness took me.

Chapter 36 – Lucrezia’s Story

When I opened my eyes I was in a garden.

It was not only beautiful but also enchanted. It stretched for miles around me, and although it was as bright as any sunny day, I could see that there was no natural sky above. The most stunning foliage grew directly from the rock, as though it were the most fertile of soil. Yet we were still underground. The garden was built beneath thousands of feet of rock, right in the heart of the mountain.

I was lying on a patch of grass. A beautiful, refreshing breeze wafted warm and comforting through the blades of grass and across my cheek, fooling me briefly into believing there was a passageway to the outside somewhere in this underground world.

I thought for a moment that I was dreaming. It was as if I had been freed and was outside once more, away from the terror of my childhood. But no, the garden was all a part of this massive illusion. Or so I believed.

People were there. I was aware of them, smelt their blood as they worked and sweated among the plants. They grew food in one area. Fruits I’d never seen before, and some that resembled apples, peaches and grapes but which perhaps were something entirely different.

The sheer impossibility of the existence of this place staggered me. I sat up on the grass, only to find a bench grow beneath me. Shaping itself from rock it turned into wood that formed around me for my comfort. A huge vine-covered arch grew from its side, swooping in a curve above my head.

‘I’m insane. You’ve driven me mad, Caesare,’ I murmured and he laughed.

‘This place is amazing, I agree. But all that you see is real.’

‘It’s impossible. An impossible garden.’

‘Yes. In the world you know but then we are impossible too, aren’t we?’

‘I can’t take in what I see. What is this place?’

It was the ultimate sorcery. My years with Miranda had taught me nothing compared to this mysterious power. If the people of this world used this magic to find me for him, then it was no surprise that my defences were as weak as a house of cards.

Caesare grew quiet. He picked a flower from its stalk and immediately it was replaced on the plant by a tiny bud that slowly blossomed. He handed me the flower. A somewhat awkward expression tweaked his lips into a half smile.

‘This place is another world, Luci. These people another race. Their laws and beliefs are far different from the ones imposed by Christianity and the Vatican.’

‘Who are they?’

‘They call themselves the Allucians. They are an ancient and powerful race. Their abilities stretch beyond the realms of our known world.’

I looked around as the people, formerly hidden from my sight, emerged on cue. They were olive-skinned and delicate; a race of tiny people. A child approached, and her miniature hand stretched out to offer me an orange. Her size belied her age. In height, she appeared no older than a three year old, but her features and proportions implied that in development she was possibly ten or twelve years old. Her delicate bones and characteristics were doll-like. Never had I seen skin and hair that shone with such polished lustre. She was beautiful. To my shame, I felt a pang of hunger.

She kneeled before me and I took the fruit, peeling it to reveal flesh of a peach-like texture. I bit into it and my mouth was filled with fresh, warm blood – the sweetest most delicious food source I had ever tasted.

‘They always give you what you need. You were weakened, Luci.’

I swooned, could almost taste and hear the heartbeat of a kill, felt filled beyond capacity. I zoned out, lost sense of time, floated on the bench, the blood sweet and pure on my lips, in my mouth and in my stomach.

Then Caesare was seated beside me. The bench was now part of a boat that glided on a river through the garden. His lips kissed mine, sharing the taste of blood. His arousal was evident as his lips possessed me with his usual fanatical passion.

Miranda’s face flashed before my eyes.

‘Luci!’ she cried with her old, familiar frustration. ‘Wake up!’

The spell broke. I found that my bodice was open, my pale breasts cupped by Caesare’s hands. He was kissing my throat. I pushed him away.

‘I hate you!’

‘They always give me what I need,’ he said again. The realisation that I was what he needed, or wanted, floated to the surface of my befuddled mind, making me aware that I had no chance of escaping this place, these people. They were too powerful.

Caesare’s laughter shook me.

‘Oh, Luci, of course you can’t escape. They want my happiness. They gave you back to me! The one woman I have always desired.’

‘What do you mean they gave me back to you?’

‘Not now,’ he replied, drooping his hand to trail in the clear water.

‘Caesare. We are brother and sister. Your infatuation with me was always a sin. You raped me when I fifteen! I loved you once and you hurt me. Since then I have never been willing. How can this be acceptable in their world? In any world?’

‘Their laws, as I explained, are different. Sometimes, brother and sister do consort in their society.’

I grew silent. Thinking hard. How could I gain some advantage?

‘You said they always give you what you want? Well I want my freedom!’

‘Freedom?’ He laughed. ‘Well you will have that, Luci. You are free to go anywhere within the mountain, of course.’

‘But...’

‘Don’t try to fight this. I am their God. My needs will always supersede yours. After that, every effort will be made to ensure you are as comfortable and happy as possible.’

‘Happy? I’m a prisoner! And I will never willingly let you touch me!’

Caesare smiled with the surety of a man used to getting his own way. His expression chilled me. The boat followed the river deeper into the garden, carried along by the gentle breeze.

Here and there I spied the Allucians weeding and tending the food sources. I was oddly emotionless. I felt no fear or distress, only a clear understanding of the situation. I would have to bide my time. I was certain that I would find my way out of this supernatural maze; that once again, I would escape my possessive brother. I searched for the magic incantations that Miranda had given me last of all, but my memory failed me. I was unable to recall my words of power, words that would have blasted a hole right through the rock to the outside world. I cursed myself for the complacency that had led me to stop using the magic several years before. Lack of use had made me forget my power. Or maybe this place dampened it. Other than my usual strength I realised I was unable to achieve even the smallest spell.

The boat slid gently into a small jetty. Here Caesare disembarked and turned to me. He stretched out a hand. I ignored him and leaped from the boat to the land myself.

At that moment an adult Allucian stepped forward from behind a beautiful bush, which was in full bloom with peach coloured flowers. She was the most stunning creature I’d ever seen. Her skin shone with a golden hue, her black hair was reflected moonlight in the fake sun. Behind her was an entourage of Allucians, all official in their demeanour.

She came forward and bowed her head, palms together, submissively acknowledging Caesare. As I turned to look at him I noticed he returned her bow with equal respect.

‘Princess Ilura, this is Lucrezia,’ Caesare introduced us with the formality of the Papal court.

Clearly Ilura was important, and the minute her eyes met mine, I knew my presence here did not please her. Though I didn’t know why.

‘My father waits for you,’ said Ilura. I heard her words but her lips didn’t move. ‘I would like to offer my companionship to Lucrezia, if you will it?’

‘Of course,’ Caesare replied.

He was at home completely with the telepathy of her conversation. He bowed once more to her as some private exchange, which I was excluded from, occurred between them.

‘I have duties to attend to.’ Caesare turned to me. ‘Ilura will show you around and perhaps may make you feel more at home.’

‘What duties?’

‘Being a God comes with responsibilities; I will explain all in time. But for now, have a pleasant afternoon and I will see you again this evening.’

Caesare left and the foliage swallowed him as though he had never been there. Caesare with responsibilities? I shook my head and looked up. I found myself staring at Ilura. Her unreadable, calm eyes scrutinised me in return.

‘So. Tell me about your people, Princess,’ I said to break the stillness and silence between us.

‘What do you wish to know?’ Her voice echoed in my head, leaving me with the sensation of unreality.

‘I want to know how you can justify keeping me prisoner.’

Immediately, Ilura’s passive face broke into a full smile.

‘Ah. Now that... is a very long story. But not one easily told.’

I looked at her.

‘Well, I don’t seem to have anything else to do.’

‘We are an Indian tribe,’ she continued. ‘An ancient people with many mysteries and rites that you may not, at first, understand.’

I’d heard of such tribes, seen the visions of a sailor whose blood I drank in my little rooms above the tavern in the docks. The image of an Incan society floated behind dying eyes, spilling the sight of their temple into my mind. Gold and jewels adorned the walls and pillars of this mysterious world. I had thought it was merely a dying man’s fantasy of the riches he never found. Yet here, in the world of the Allucians, I found myself wondering where that mysterious bounty lay.