Symphony of Light and Winter (32 page)

I unlocked the front doors for Lance, and then walked into the concert hall. After flipping on the lights to illuminate the stage, I walked with slow, determined steps. Not knowing how things would end, the possibilities were many degrees of horrible. Walking in a silent reverence, I awaited my fate.

The piano was still center stage from the last performance. Playing would serve two purposes—to calm my nerves, and alert Lance to where he could find me.

I finished the second movement of the third piece when the rear doors of the hall opened. Lance escorted Olivia, whose head hung forward causing her long, straight black hair to obscure her face. I stopped playing and the notes drifted through the hall with a finality that mirrored the moment.

“How do you want to do this, Linden?” Lance shouted from the back of the auditorium.

“I’ll give her my keys. You’ll give her time to get to the car and get away, and then I’ll go with you willingly.”

“So, you’re not going to give up Cyril?”

“No.”

“That’s a shame. I rather liked you. I don’t know what Michael is going to do to you.”

“Let me worry about that. Olivia, are you OK?”

As she strode closer, the bruises on her cheeks became visible. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes were accented by deep grayish circles. “I’m fine. I just want to go home.” She wrapped her arms around herself as though for protection.

They both walked up the makeshift stairs to the stage.

“Here, take these. My car is parked in receiving. No one should bother you. Go home.” I wanted to be angry with the woman in front of me, but her small frame clothed in a pink ruffled shirt and Juicy Couture pants reminded me of the little girl Mr. Landon dropped off in my office years ago. It quenched my hostility at least for the moment. I held out the keys.

She took them from my hand and shot Lance a sheepish look, then returned her sights to me. Her eyes pleaded, but I didn’t have time to hash things out.

“Go.” I pointed backstage.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. We’ll talk about it later. Now, go!”

She ran, never looking back.

I stood with Lance and the silence between us was awkward.

He spoke and the echo amplified his soft words. “How long do we need to wait?”

“Until I hear the doors close. I have a remote in the car. Olivia knows where it is.”

When I heard the final click of the door, I turned to Lance. “Well, that’s it. You’re going to have to drive. My ride just left.”

He chuckled. “I really wish you would have given him up.”

“A bit easier said than done.”

Just as Lance placed his first foot on the stairs, the rear doors flew open.

Oh, no!

“I thought you didn’t tell him.” I stabbed Lance in the ribs with my finger.

He mumbled, “Ouch. I didn’t.”

“Where is he?” The voice echoed through the hall. It was disturbing to see Michael again, but even more shocking was who he had with him.

“Aunt Eva?” I said in a whisper.

“What the fuck?” Lance grumbled and descended the remaining stairs, leaving me alone on the stage.

So she didn’t die. Fucking Michael! How could I have been so stupid?
Cyril made Eva! Of course she didn’t die.

Michael held her hands behind her back and shoved her forward between the rows of red velvet seats.

“Where is he?” Michael shouted again.

“Michael, what are you doing here?” Lance crossed in front of the stage meeting Michael halfway.

“Better question, Lance, is what are you doing here?” Michael looked up and saw me, standing literally in the spotlight. “Oh, should I be suspicious that you’re alone with my wife?”

Arrogant prick.

“I was just about to bring her to you.” Lance’s explanation was short-lived as Michael let go of Eva and grabbed Lance by the hand. Lance cried out in pain.

“Don’t you move,” Michael commanded Eva, and then focused his attention back on Lance.

“Is that right? Why didn’t I know about this little meeting of yours? Are you keeping things from me?” Michael squeezed Lance’s hand harder and Lance’s grimace grew more pronounced.

“You were so upset the other woman wasn’t Linden. I found her for you and negotiated a trade. She’s yours, Michael.”

Well, wasn’t that convenient.

“Watch her,” Michael demanded as he let go of Lance and pushed him toward Eva. Eva said nothing, showing no response.

Michael’s stride held a confidence that fueled the anxiety-laden tightness in my chest. He crossed in front of the stage, never breaking eye contact, then ascended the stairs to stand before me. “Linden, oh Linden, I did choose well. You are quite beautiful. You even have her skin. Have you missed me, my sweet?”

“Not exactly.” Crossing my arms, I stood my ground. I refused to show any sign of weakness.

Seeing Michael under the lights of the stage, I realized why Olivia had been such a fool. The resemblance between Michael and Harmon Mathews, Olivia’s weakness, was remarkable. No wonder she pretended to be me. She found out Harmon’s wife was pregnant again, and then Michael presented himself.

I once found comfort in Michael’s familiarity, but the intense rage that whitened my knuckles, fueled by his treatment of Cyril, was the only emotion I held for him now.

“What’s this?” He moved in closer to me and sniffed the air. “Oh, my dear. What have you been up to? Have you been sleeping with the enemy?” His mouth drifted close to my neck.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Oh, but it is, wife. I own you.”

“I remember us trying to make things work, Michael, and you ended up dead. Care to fuck me again?”

He backed away enough to stare at me. “Oh, you think you’re the mortal fuck? Is that it? Sweetheart, it was your blood, not your snatch. That bastard gave you his blood. He’s made of her essence, and she forbade us from biting her so we wouldn’t gain her powers. To dissuade us she made her blood poisonous. All because Vidius, the fool, went for her throat. So I’m sorry to disappoint you again. You can rest assured I’ll never bite you, but fucking you is an entirely different matter, wife.”

“Funny, I’d think you were above sloppy seconds.”

He ignored my comment. “The moment she created me, Linden, she had no need for Cyril. Did you know that?” Michael’s arrogance was astounding.

“Didn’t she make five more? You were so good, she tried five more times?”

“But she always came back to me.”

“Whatever. Is it true you think I’m her?”

“I think you will be.”

“Dare I ask?”

“The first step is to get the British prick to show up with the knife.”

“Who? Overton?”

“Yes. I told him I would return something Cyril lost if he brought me the knife.”

“What did he lose?”

He motioned toward Eva still standing in the aisle with Lance holding her elbow.

“How do you even know he has the knife you want?” I raised an eyebrow, finding it hard to believe Overton would cooperate for my long-lost aunt.

“Lance said he saw you with a book that made him ill. That could only be one book. If Cyril brought the book with him, I know he has the knife.”

“Why do you want it?”

“It was hers and I can use it to force your transformation.”

“Michael, I hate to tell you this, but I’m no goddess.”

A creak of the rear doors forced our attention to the back wall. Overton stepped through the doorway, followed by Cyril.

Michael bellowed, “I told you to come alone!”

Overton’s amused tone could not be mistaken. “Michael, if that’s what you are calling yourself these days, you are such an insufferable sod. Did you honestly think I’d betray him?”

“I thought you would want to play the hero and deliver him long-lost Auntie. He’d be thankful and distracted.”

“Arrogance always was your weakness, Michael. Always assuming,” Cyril said as he made his way to the stage. “In fact, isn’t that why she made you? I was too much her reflection. I wasn’t permitted to be charming because she rendered me an automaton for fear I might kill her—much too big a risk for her. She wanted charisma and entertainment, not power or challenge. She wanted to be wooed like a human woman by a human man. When she plucked you from Earth, you were quite the performer, were you not? A well-established bard who drank and charmed his way into the beds of women, many of them married. You were a charlatan then, just as you are now.” Cyril wasted no time navigating the aisle.

“Oh, you don’t really have room to talk. Why do I smell you on my wife?”

Cyril’s approach slowed. No eagerness in his steps, but rather calculation. “She’s not your wife. Couldn’t you sense my essence in her veins? I had already made my claim.”

“It wasn’t you I sensed. Linden is the Goddess. The Goddess told me I would be the one to deliver her to earth. Can’t you see Cyril? It’s her! She’s come back to us.”

“She is not, Michael. Are you going to continue to ramble or do you want to hear my proposal?”

“I already have what I want. I won’t let you take her without a fight.” Michael grabbed me by the arm. I tried to pull away, but he was much too strong.

“A fight you’ll lose since your backup is rather weak.” Cyril glanced back with a nod toward Lance and Eva. “Maybe I was under a mistaken impression, but I thought there might be something you wanted more than her.”

“Other than wanting you fucking dead, and not dead temporarily? I can’t think of anything else.”

“That’s my offer.”

“You can’t be serious. You wouldn’t just give up.”

“I’ve cursed Linden and I can’t see any other way to undo it. She means more to me than anything. I’ve taken away her free will, ruined her for anyone else, and cursed her to always be pursued by my family. Ending this is the only way.”

“You are fucking kidding! Tell me you’re kidding! So fucking arrogant…stupid…” I ran at Cyril and slammed my outstretched hands into his chest. The motion would have shoved any other man, but he barely wavered.

Michael grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back to him. “You’ll refrain from touching him, wife.”

Over my shoulder, I glared at him. “Fuck you, Michael.” Turning back, I connected with Cyril’s eyes, pleading, “Cyril, why are you doing this? Please, no.” My body shook from fear and anger.

“Linden, you won’t remember me once the tie between us is broken.”

“That supposed to be a consolation? Cyril, please. No. I’ll go with Michael. I’ll be away from the family and you.” I turned to Michael and looked up into his face. “Michael, let’s go.” I grabbed his hands and tried to gain his attention, but he focused on Cyril. “Michael, you can have me. I’ll go with you. Cyril can go play with his little friends.” I yanked on his arm again, but he brushed me aside.

Michael and Cyril continued to stare at each other.

Cyril’s look softened as he glanced at me. “Linden, even if you go with Michael you’ll still be bound to me as long as I live. You’ll still have all the limitations you had before.”

“No, Michael said it was the bite, not the sex that caused him to die.” I tried to communicate desperation with my eyes.

“Did he? Since I wove the spell, who are you going to believe? Do you honestly think I was going to let anyone fuck you and live? You are mine. There is only one thing that can undo what I have done. A simple death won’t do.”

Possessive bastard.

Cyril reached into the inside pocket of his black leather jacket and removed a dagger. The stage lights glinted off the obsidian-colored metal that composed the hilt. The tip of the dagger was formed by the convergence of three separate red-tinted blades. Within the triangular formation of the sharp points was something white. Cyril ran is his fingers over the blade.

“Michael, do you remember when she made this?” Cyril held out of the knife.

“Yes.” Michael tightened his grip on me and swallowed hard.

“So you remember how she hung me upside down, cut me repeatedly, and let me bleed out while each of you all took turns hacking me into pieces so she could melt enough of my bones into one small fragment intended to hold her power. Do you remember how she willed me not to scream? Did you know when you can’t form the sounds, the scream still happens, but only in your head? It provides no relief and makes you insane.”

My stomach heaved. Michael tightened his grip. Everything Cyril endured then and now horrified me. When he could finally be happy, he was going to end it all, for me. Was there an afterlife for him? Do Makers get to move on?

“Stop your whining, that was ages ago. You got all the power. She gave us nothing! Stop being a fucking baby, Cyril.”

“No! Don’t do this.” Tears ran down my face. “Please, Cyril, I love you. Don’t!”

“I love you too, that’s why I must. The Goddess made this knife from me to destroy me. She was going to kill me, but at the last moment decided a cursed existence and banishment were a more fitting punishment. But Michael, I must warn you even if you kill me you can never have her. She shares my blood and have I made sure she’ll be protected even after my death. It can’t be undone.”

“She’s the Goddess; when I force her transformation she’ll come to me of her choosing.” Michael squeezed my arm.

“If you think so.” Cyril smirked. “Make your choice. My death, or we kill you and you awake to fight another day. You could also decide to leave now, but I know that’s not your style.”

Screw my plan to go with Michael. I had to get Cyril out of there. “This is so fucking stupid. Just kill him, Cyril, and let’s go.”

My words ignited fury in Michael. With blinding speed, he shoved me with superhuman force so hard that after flying through the air, my head impacted the rear wall of the stage. Landing with a thud, I found myself half covered by the heavy red velvet stage curtain. I pulled myself free of the curtain and crawled on my elbows and knees. My vision was blurred, but I could still see Michael standing over Cyril’s supine figure.

“Noooooooo!”

I crawled faster and became aware that something had Overton agitated. There were incoherent shouts, loud groans, and screeches coming from among the seats, but I didn’t care. I had to get to Cyril.

“No! No! No!” The knife protruded from Cyril’s chest. Michael had done it.