Futile Flame (25 page)

‘It’s all a curse. He was cursed.’

‘He once told me he sold his soul,’ I answered, remembering the night Caesare tied me to his pentagram.

‘It was disguised as a blessing, but she hates all men...’

‘Who?’

There was no answer. Ilura’s eyes were frozen wide, her mouth slack.

I stood and looked at the door. The call was gone now, but I could hear nothing from inside. This corridor, this whole world, was not my world and I had been taken into the darkness unwilling. Therefore my doorway to my own future had to be here also. This was not my fight or my choice.

‘Choose a door,’ Miranda whispered. ‘But choose right.’

I remembered her warning. That one day Caesare would attain great power and would try to force me from my future. I had to block his return.

‘Use the word,’ she said. ‘It means nothing to some, but has great significance to you.’

I drew my triskele symbol large in the air, covering the doorway, and I saw the faint blue of the symbols aura as it sunk into and barred the door. Then I said the word. My power word. It’s a different one for everyone. But mine held the full force of my will as I demanded my life back.

‘Isabella!’

As my last child’s name crossed my lips, hard mountain rock grew over the entrance, sealing it forever. My brother was trapped and so was the King with him.

I turned and saw them then; ten pairs of eyes staring down the corridor. The malevolence was gone from the gold pupils but the babies were still an extraordinary sight. Some were standing, some were crawling. Miniature monsters. I knew that they held unfathomable power. But I had my strength back and I would fight them to the death if necessary.

‘Find your own doorway, but never come into my world,’ I warned and they shuffled back. They had seen enough.

I headed for the door I had seen earlier, knowing with a certainty that this was mine. It was of fine polished mahogany with golden cherubs engraved around the frame. Each of them bore the face of my children. There was no door handle, only a child-faced door knocker. I reached forward, caressing Isabella’s image before rapidly knocking three times on the door.

I glanced back down the corridor. The babies were gone and the world of the Allucians was finally silent. The door swung open before me and candlelight poured into the corridor. Inside I could see my Parisian hotel room. With two steps I was back once more among my possessions and in my own world. I also knew that I had arrived back only seconds after Caesare had stolen me from my bed.

The mahogany door silently closed behind me and faded away to become nothing more than a blank wall. I examined it for cracks but there was no trace. The door and the corridor were gone. I looked over at my bed and saw the covers and sheets hanging over the side. I straightened it up and lay on top. My ‘normal’ world would never know that I had been torn from my rightful path, and yet I had months of memories spent with the Allucians. Being back in my own time saved me from the darkness that Miranda spoke of.

Chapter 41 – Present

‘And so, the King was a distant memory and all of it perhaps an insane and vivid dream?’ I ask.

Lucrezia nods. ‘I put aside the memories of my brother and that world. Until now.’

Lilly and I stare at Lucrezia as she makes this final revelation. Is this the part of her story we need?

‘A king?’ Lilly shudders. ‘Powerful? Evil?’

Lilly looks over at me.

‘I don’t know if he is evil, but certainly very powerful. His contact with the Allucians changed them and my brother. I suspect that they used him to source their supremacy. It was evil and wrong of them, even if they believed they had no choice in order to survive.’

‘Did you feel drained as you stood outside the door?’ I ask.

Lucrezia is thoughtful. She tips her head to one side and her eyes become vacant, as if she is looking back in time to study the corridor and the door once more.

‘No, Gabi. But then there was some kind of ward on the door already. I suspect that it was crumbling though, and that this being was controlling the babies, making them alter the reality of their world in order to aid his escape.’

I stay silent. How do I broach the subject of our strange stalker?

‘How long could your ward hold?’ Lilly asks.

‘I don’t know. Indefinitely perhaps. It would take an incredible power to free them from the rock if nothing else. But that is the power the Allucians had and then lost. I’ve thought long and hard on the subject. Caesare has never returned for me, nor have I sensed his presence since that night. I assume that if he does, then the King will be free. But then, this king may well have destroyed my brother.’

‘I suppose you have explored all the options. It is possible they were using the King to gain power,’ I agree.

Lucrezia nods. ‘Yes. But if he is so powerful, then how did they imprison him initially? Caesare had those answers, but didn’t want to tell me anything. Maybe they did some kind of deal with the King until they learnt how to manipulate his strength. The Allucians were nothing once their magic was crushed, and their power had clearly been suppressing mine.’

I thought for a moment. On the surface, the Allucians had been benign. But how would the search for ultimate power affect any race? Maybe the Allucian Chief had believed his aim was ultimately good. They had, after all, stopped Caesare from hurting Lucrezia. But there were too many unanswered questions.

‘So you’re a witch as well?’ says Lilly, changing the subject.

“That’s so cool.’

‘I could definitely teach you some stuff,’ Lucrezia says. ‘I think perhaps you both should learn some spells. You never know when you’ll need them.’

I look at Lilly and I see the fear I feel, reflected in her eyes.

‘This king...’

‘Yes?’

‘You’re sure he was trapped?’

Lucrezia bites her lip in thought. ‘I’m only certain that Caesare passed through a doorway and that something else was there. Ilura said it was the King, but I really don’t know. Why are you so concerned about him?’

I tell her about the mysterious entity that passed over Lilly and me in Turin, and something of the events of the last few weeks.

‘We felt nausea and intense weakness. I even felt like my lungs couldn’t get enough air,’ Lilly explains.

‘And stomach cramps, you say?’ Lucrezia looks unnerved as we both nod. She stands, wrapping her arms around herself in a subconscious defensive stance. ‘This thing you mentioned. I came across it too. About ten years ago.’

‘Where?’ I ask.

‘Stockholm. But nothing since. I’d forgotten about it until now, but it was terrifying at the time. I had no energy at all, and suffered intense vertigo and sickness.’

‘Yes. And we’re not used to feeling weak,’ Lilly says.

‘It was clearly taunting us,’ I say. ‘And let’s be honest, we were being followed.’

I glance around the coffee bar and my head begins to feel woozy. It is almost like being drugged.

‘Gabi? You ok?’ Lilly asks.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. My limbs feel weak, a dull pain begins to throb behind my eyes and pins and needles dance over the tips of my fingers as I reach for my coffee cup. Lilly is looking at me intently as though my sudden strangeness is apparent.

‘Sorry. I’m fine. Really,’ I say, but I’m not convinced.

Lilly strokes my leg under the table. I feel that familiar tingle of passion surge through my skin and feel better briefly. Her touch steadies me.

‘Well, I’m not,’ gasps Luci abruptly as she slumps in her chair. ‘Something’s wrong.’

Luci stretches out a hand to steady herself, and Lilly grabs her fingers. She looks up into Lilly’s eyes, shocked by the instant relief she feels from the symptoms. But we don’t have time to ponder this strange revelation as a sudden scream pierces the air.

There is a commotion outside. I stand on impulse, my strength fully returned, and run to the exit. Lilly and Lucrezia follow. The café leads into the department store where we rush through the crowd of post-Christmas bargain hunters and headlong down the escalator. At the main door we emerge onto Deansgate. It is a familiar place for me, having spent many months in Manchester. I glance up briefly at the apartment block next door. I still own the penthouse but it’s rented out now through a local agent. Then I look down the street to the Marks and Spencer’s store and the strangely incongruous Ferris wheel.

I feel that strange confusion again. My mental faculties are working below par and I can’t understand why. Lilly grabs my arm. Her nails bite into my skin and I notice she is also holding onto Luci. I look frantically down the street. There are screams and yells coming from all around and the bizarre sounds echo in the busy street.
Only we seem to notice
. A door slams shut, yet the sound doesn’t make sense so I dismiss it. Then we see him.

He is feeding on a pregnant woman. Her back is bent over his arm as he rips out her throat. Blood bursts from her jugular and a small, stifled sound bubbles from her shocked lips. He eats sloppily, spilling blood down his victim. It splashes his black clothing and bloodies his chin. We watch him silently. I clench my fists in anger. This is too low, even for one of our kind. Still he guzzles on, ripping and tearing at the flesh of her now tattered throat.

It seems an age before the fiend becomes aware of us, and drops the woman carelessly to the floor. She makes no sound, dead before her skull connects with the pavement.

‘Mother...’ the creature says simply, holding out his hand towards Lilly’s face. ‘You are so young, so beautiful.’

His fingers drip with the same thick black goo we saw covering his victims. His body seems to produce it. His hands are gnarled, his back distorted like a parody of Victor Hugo’s fabled
Hunchback of Notre Dame
.

‘Don’t touch me,’ Lilly says and his hand stops inches before her cheek.

He is dressed in black velvet, renaissance in style; yet covering his breeches and frock shirt, he wears a modern long-length leather jacket. His blond hair is swept back into a ponytail held in place by a leather thong. He is the archetypal vampire. Except for his hideous demeanour.

He is monstrous in every way, from his twisted and mutilated face to his normal hair. I wonder if this is our king and if so – is this our future? Perhaps all we are will become distorted. Maybe we will become our own portrait and, like Dorian Gray, our sins will show on our faces until we become too grotesque to be seen.

‘Caesare!’ Lucrezia gasps.

‘No!’ I cry. I have no idea how she can recognise her brother in this creature.

Caesare turns towards her. For the first time I see his eyes staring back at us. They are molten lava; a combination of red and gold swirls occasionally shot through with black. He looks like the devil himself. I fight the urge to shrink away from him as Lucrezia shudders and leans in closer to me, clearly terrified by the sight of him.

Obscenely the street continues to thrive as before. People pass over and through the body of the dead woman and they are unaware of this deformed monster before them. It is as though we are in another dimension, and yet still part of the present one.

‘Lilly,’ I whisper.

Lilly stands firm and I edge forward, reaching for her in an attempt to pull her farther away from him. Caesare’s feral leer returns to her. His expression is adoring and completely insane.

‘You love him. Is there no room in your heart to love us all, Mother?

‘I’m not your mother; you have mistaken me for someone else,’ she tells him calmly.

Caesare is confused. His hands fly to his face, fingers run through his hair pulling it free of its binding. He tears at his scalp like a madman.

‘Why are you lying?’ he screams.

Lucrezia walks forward, steeling herself against the onslaught. ‘Brother, calm yourself. We are a family of sorts. But Lilly is the youngest of us, more likely your granddaughter. She couldn’t possibly be your mother.’

Caesare looks up uncomprehending at Lucrezia. She flinches at the insanity in his face. His fangs are exposed and he is foaming at the mouth like a rabid fox. He reaches for his sister but she falls back against me. I push her into Lilly as I rush forward, throwing myself in his way. The fight must be between two equals and I am certainly the strongest of the three of us. I fall on him, pushing him down onto the floor. My arm rams under his chin to prevent those thrashing fangs from tearing into me. He struggles beneath me, kicking and bucking in an attempt to throw me off. We roll into the road. A bus hurtles down the street and I brace as I expect it to hit us, but instead I feel the rush of wind, and a twisting nausea churns my insides. Confused, I watch the bus continue down the road, and now I know, we are not really here. But where indeed are we?

Caesare snaps his jaw, gnashing his bottom lip to a pulp in frustration and then he focuses his terrible gaze on my eyes and the energy is rapidly sucked from my body.

‘No!’ Lucrezia cries. ‘Stop it, Caesare! Please...’