The Celestial Kiss (30 page)

Evan opened the door later, but I didn’t know how much time had passed.  It could have been minutes; it was more likely hours.  I stared at him from where I sat against the wall, my knees hiked against my chest.  A second man moved into the room.  He collected Calista’s body wordlessly, cradling her weight as if it were insubstantial, and left.  Evan sighed before shutting me in again.

I’d been sitting on the cold, unrelenting ground long enough that it had put a chill into my bones that even the intensity of my fury couldn’t thaw.  It made me ache so that finally I had to gather myself and stand.  And when I did, I felt lighter, the old pieces of me falling away.

The attic room was almost exactly as I had left it. Only one thing I noticed was different—it was darker. I strode to the window and pulled back the thick curtains.  A sheet of plywood crossed over my window, at least a quarter-inch thick.  It effectively blockaded any light from entering the room: not the sun or the moon.  

I drew in a deep breath and slammed into the wood as forcefully as I could, using my shoulder to hit it in the middle.  Nothing happened, other than probably the beginning of a wicked bruise.  But the resilience made me feel all the more trapped, all the more helpless.  I slammed at the boards with all my might, until finally I had scraped the skin clear off some parts of my arms and gashes of skin were surely ripping away.  Only then did I stop long enough to look around the room for something to pry that damned plywood away.

Was it too much to be allowed to see outside?  It wasn’t like I was going to break the glass of my window and shimmy four stories down to the ground…It actually wasn’t a bad idea, but it didn’t help much.  What good would it be to escape when I’d been the one to willingly walk through those doors?  If I ran, he would only continue with his original plan and this would have been for nothing.  Still, the dark seemed to breed my poisonous feelings.

I crossed to the desk on memory and found a candle there, just where I’d left it.  The scent of lavender seemed cloying now.  I pulled the drawer open so fast it came free of the track, and dumped the contents on the bed.  My fingers found purchase around the matchbook.  There were two matches left, not very promising, but it provided me with a little bit of light once I fed the flame to the candle.

Other than the boards, nothing had changed.  It was like a tomb...my tomb.  A cold realization trickled down my back as it struck me that I had been born in this house, and I would die in this house.  The fact that I’d escaped for even a few weeks was miraculous.  But it didn’t make me feel any better.  

The only thing that did make me feel better was the flicker of an idea. 

I considered setting fire to the boards, but the boards would not be the only thing to catch fire.  The curtains, the draperies, even the walls would borrow the flame...not that I was at all opposed to the house burning down.  The flames wouldn’t feel to Xian like anything other than a brush of wind as he ran to safety.  Yes, the idea of lighting this match and letting it take on a life of its own was intoxicating, but if I wanted any good to come of it, I would have to trap Xian first.

Using the candle as a guide, I picked my way through the room and opened up my closet to see all of the things that had been meant to buy my love... no, not my love.  My compliance, my ignorance maybe, but not my love.  Tailored dresses for when father chose to entertain, crisp tops and, though I rarely left the home, expensive coats.  There were enough shoes to provide half of Africa, and several skirts by obscure Italian designers.  Father sought to buy the love of all his children. 

I did love my custom dresses and patent leather pumps as much as the next girl, but if father had really wanted to help, he should’ve bought me archery or fencing lessons.   Of course, they’d never have appealed to me, and they wouldn’t have done much good against Xian.  A sword, even, would have been a more useful gift, though even now I didn’t think I’d be able to kill him.

It shouldn’t have given it a second thought, and it wasn’t even likely, but if it came down to it, could I kill Xian?  I’d never been one for violence, and even as much as I hated him, I didn’t think that I could do something so…barbaric.  I wished it was simple to kill him, just a gun shot or a knife to the throat…but even as the impossible thought crossed my mind, I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it.  To end a life, even one that was undead, just wouldn’t sit well with me. 

Then again, I would only have to live with myself for a little while after.   I was going to Hell, undeniably.  Killing him would actually probably be a good thing, compared to what he’d done, what he would continue to do if he lived.  Maybe killing him would land us in different circles of Hell.  Unless the experience was personalized, tailored to an individual’s fears and torments, in which case I’d be stuck with him in my own private eternal torture.  Either way, I didn’t seem to be in a good position to make any of those decisions. 

I was pretty convinced that I couldn’t do it…not because I’d once cared for him, but because his life was not mine to take.  But then I thought about heaven.  I wondered if it was personalized, too.  Because the only thing I knew that I wanted, what I wanted more than anything ever, was to spend more time with James.  It wasn’t possible, obviously, but even thinking about it made me consider trying for redemption.

I thought of the man I loved, even though I’d known him for way too short a time.  Even though that love went against everything either of us knew.  Even though it was entirely unprecedented, unfounded, and utterly stupid of us. 

When I’d fallen for Xian, I’d have sworn I knew what love was.  That feeling of being special, being beautiful, being everything to someone.  After a year of flirting with disaster, after I’d severed those ties and pushed Xian out of my head and my life, I had only learned what love was not.  It wasn’t about your heart speeding up when you saw them, or people validating your relationship with their approval.  It was not about gifts or showing affection or possession. 

There was something to be said of my worldly knowledge that it too to realize what exactly love was.  Not the way that somebody else made you feel about yourself, but the way that they made you feel about them.  Sure, having someone look at you like you were the creator of the world, like they would kill for you, was an enticing part of it.  But the deeper, much more significant part was knowing that you would do the same for them…anything, really.  I’d foolishly told Xian I would have done anything for him, but I didn’t understand then just how much you could do for someone you loved.  And I loved James. 

Though I’d always known the versatility of love, it was really only starting to hit me that there were different kinds.  The love that binds families, which existed outside of the story-books, which I’d never been able to trust.  It was real.  Thinking back to Julius and his devil-may-care attitude, things made a little more sense.  He wasn’t just crazy because he’d lost half of himself and he chose to take it out on the world.  Sure, Julius was the furthest into the deep end, but they had all loved their sister.  It was clear in everything they did, from James’ devotion to his people to Janna’s obsession with remaining true to her father’s expectations.  The queen even, and her very obvious devotion to her children, the way she had stepped up in their defense, the way she’d thrown down her life for them…for me, as an extension of their happiness.

But of all the kinds of love I could think of, it was the love of friendship that puzzled me most.  Most romantic relationships, as far as I knew, started with a friendship, yet mine had blossomed from nowhere apparently.  And then here was this girl who accepted the love I had for her brother, who seemed to know everything about me.  I’d never had a true friend, I suppose, so I could have been off base, but something about her told me that maybe she loved my presence.  It was a presumptuous part of me that thought that, but if that’s what it was, then maybe the love of friendship was a gateway.  With James, it would have been a gateway into true love:  the undying, scorching hot passion of two souls who found each other without deal-breaking flaws.  With Janna, that gateway would be into the love of a family.  Though I had countless ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’, Janna felt to me something more than a friend.  Friends didn’t throw their lives down for each other, but family did.  Just as irrational as my love for James, Janna was more of a sister to me than anybody ever could be. 

Thinking of how Xian had hurt them all, looking at the spot where Calista’s lifeless body had been, it became clear to me.  It wasn’t a matter of
if
I could kill him.  It was a matter of how.             

I’d given in and collapsed onto my floor against the wall, thinking of how to end it all.  The one candle in my room didn’t offer me much light, so when he entered, I had to squint through the darkness to even make him out.  But of course it was him.  Who else would it have been?

Even if there had been any doubt of his identity, it was chased away when he opened his mouth.  “Are you feeling better?” 

I’d expected him to come back.  I’d planned for this.  Xian’s face came into view when he stepped forward again.  The candlelight danced off the planes of his face softly...deceptively so.  He almost didn’t look like the monster that he’d proven himself to be.  But looks were deceiving.  I doubted I looked as determined as I felt.  I’d returned to my assault on the wall, periodically throwing myself into the wood, sapping all my strength.  A sheen of sweat covered me, sending hot and cold sensations coursing over my skin.

“Leave me alone.”  My voice cracked.

Xian didn’t respond, rather took another step forward so that he towered above me, and then dropped to the floor beside me.  The new angle only made him look that much more harmless, but I tensed my muscles and scooted away from him in protest.  My head felt heavy on my shoulders.

“You don’t look well.”

“I’m dying.”  I snapped.  “You’ll have to forgive me.”

“I can end it.” He grabbed my hand.  “This suffering can stop in a heartbeat.” 

“No.”  I wiped sweat off my forehead, took a rattling breath, and flicked my tongue over chapped lips. 

“You’re dying.  The werewolves mark is killing you.”

“It’s not that.  I just…I’m starving.”

He raised his eyebrows in an attempt to look passive, but he could see the opportunity.  “I get the feeling you want something more than a grilled cheese?”

“Blood.  It’s the only reason I’m still alive.”  I lied.  “I’m an addict, but it keeps me going.”  I let my eyes flutter closed.  “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong.  I’m nothing like you.  I won’t kill for it.”

That made him laugh.  “You’re more like me then you’ll ever know.”  He placed the back of his hand against my cheek; I shrugged away.  “You’re burning up, exhausting your blood supply for energy.  You need to drink.”

“I’m not like you.”  I protested. 

“You could be.”  His voice rippled with excitement.  “I can save you right now, but I won’t do it if you refuse to admit what you are.  I can’t have you running around wild, like an unbroken horse.”

“I won’t.”

He shook his head.  “You have to admit what you are.  You have to surrender to me, or I can’t help you.”  He let those words roll over me and then brushed a hair off my face.  “It would be too dangerous for you otherwise.”

I was silent, contemplating his words, when he stood to go.  I grabbed his hand between mine, allowing the desperation to eke out of my voice.  “Please… please if you care about me at all, you won’t do this to me.”

He shook me loose and moved to the door before turning around.  “I don’t think you understand, Lilith,” He said calmly, “how important you are to me.”

“You don’t love me!”  I screamed.  “You never did!”  He didn’t contest it.  “What am I still here for?”

Xian smiled, his lips peeling back to reveal a perfect row of white teeth.  The sight of his fangs sent a shiver down my spine as I remembered his earlier sentiment about trying to change me. 

“Me.”

He slammed the door behind him.  The candle flickered, its light fading, burning bright one last moment, before it went out.

Evan wavered over me when I opened my eyes later.  He offered me a hand and hoisted me up.  When he released me, I wobbled, letting the wall hold me up.  I blinked at him, letting my eyes adjust, and looked past him. “I want to see Xian.”

“Are you sure?”  He was obviously hesitant.

I swallowed, trying to soothe my dry throat.  “I don’t want to die.”  My voice was barely more than a whisper, the best I could manage.

Evan nodded and looped his arm through mine.  I allowed myself to lean on him more than was necessary.  “I’m not sure he’s back yet, but I don’t think he’d mind you waiting in his room.”

“Back?”  I asked.  “Back from where?”

“I…”  His voice faltered.  “I’m not sure.”

As we passed through the hall, I began to get a sense of things.  First, the silence.  I looked to Evan slowly, trying not to betray the glimmer of hope that lit up in me.  “It’s night time already?”

“Just about.”  He confirmed, without much of a second thought.  He glanced at the watch on his wrist and licked his lips nervously. 

I took a shaky breath, hoping that would disguise the increased rate of my heart.  The sun would be up soon.  This was a lucky break.  But Evan was behaving suspiciously.  Here I was trying to shuffle Xian into a trap of my own making, but he very well may have been planning the same thing.  I tried not to imagine that.  If he was, the worst he could do was keep me from accomplishing what I’d set out to do.  And if he did, at least I wouldn’t have to live knowing that I’d failed.

We had almost reached the staircase when Xian called out my name from behind us.  We stopped, and I turned, hoping I looked desperate and weak; it wasn’t such a stretch.  Xian’s face was impassive, but there was something like excitement brewing up storm clouds in his eyes.  “Lilith?”

“She’s had a change of heart,” Evan bowed his head as though looking at Xian at the same time as speaking to him was simply too intimidating.  “You said to let you know when she broke...”

Xian didn’t remove his eyes from me as he came to take my hand, “Yes,” He smirked.  “Thank you.”

Recognizing his dismissal, Evan nodded and backed away, leaving me alone with Xian.  Our proximity was unnerving, but I fought to maintain some sort of composure.  “You were looking for me?”

“I’ve had a while to think,” I said slowly, “and each day I get closer and closer to dying.  I’m scared.”  My breath hitched in my chest, caught somewhere in my lungs.  “I don’t want to die, Xian.”

His expression was almost tender.  “You don’t need to fear anything, Lilith.  I can turn you.”

“We’ve tried so many times before.  What if it doesn’t work?”

He cupped the sides of my face, framing it in his cold hands.  “I’m sure of this.”

I shook my head, not willing to believe it.  Xian drew me closer to him, and I heaved a sigh against his chest.  A svelte finger tipped my chin upwards, so that we could see eye-to-eye.  “Trust me.”  His voice was feather light. 

I allowed myself a few moments of doubt to consider why I shouldn’t trust him—he’d literally stabbed my father in the back, he’d murdered Calista, and butchered innocent humans.  That was only the tip of the iceberg and yet, he could offer me salvation…  I nodded.

Xian smiled and moved toward the steps, bringing me alongside him.  “Everything is going to be ok, Lilith.  Finally, everything is going to work out.”

I smiled, suppressing my doubts, and continued down the steps.  I didn’t flinch when his arm snaked around my waist.

I curled my fingers up against my wrist, reaching for the small box I found there, a source of comfort.  The book of matches burned against my skin, desperate for me to use them.  I forced myself to stand a little straighter, and Xian turned, stopping on the steps all together.  I drew in a breath, feeling transparent, like he could see my thoughts.  His eyes stared into mine, his grip on my wrists just a bit too firm for me to be comfortable.

“You need a drink.”  He mused.

“Yes,” I said, grateful.  Aside from the champagne I’d been plied with at the funeral, I hadn’t drank in a while.  But my nerves were on overload, and maybe taking the edge off was exactly the thing to do.

“I’ve got the perfect thing for you,” He grinned, turning towards my father’s room.

He’d wasted no time in making the place his, different even than what I’d seen when he’d brought me here before.  The cavernous, formerly-barren room was now made lavish with a couch in the far corner, set before a bear-skin rug.  Art decorated the walls—paintings that I had read about by Rembrandt and Gericault and even some that I didn’t recognize.  A bed that was easily three times the size of my father’s took up the middle of the chamber, a heavy red bedspread tucked perfectly at the corners and topped with a mountain of pillows.  Bookshelves lined the long wall, each perfectly covered in countless books.

I sat down and watched as Xian lit a few candles on his bedside stand, the glow illuminating the far reaches of the room.  He gestured for me to sit down on the bed, and I did so tentatively, unable to keep from fidgeting despite already having come to terms with what I was about to do. 

Xian retrieved a bottle from the table in the corner along with two short, crystal glasses.  He set them on the stand next to his bed and handed the first to me as he poured another.  I sniffed it tentatively.  The alcoholic tinge made my eyes burn, but I closed them and swigged it down; It would make what I was about to do easier.  Xian looked pleased when I set it down, and immediately poured me another.  I stared into the amber liquid, watching it swirl around the bottom of the glass.   

He sat next to me, placing a heavy hand on my thigh.  I resisted the impulse to push him away and turned to face him instead. It was time to put my acting skills to the test.  “I know now, that I can’t exist without you.”  My words were true.  The intentions behind them were not.  But Xian didn’t have to know that.  “I ran away to escape my Father’s tyranny, and that required me to leave you behind.  But the whole time I was gone, you haunted me.”

Xian stood.  “Oh?”  His lips were pursed together in an attempt to tame the smile spreading across his face.  And just like that, there it was.  The charm he could turn on and off like a light switch, manufactured to conceal the darkness within him.  I’d fallen for it time and again; he was counting on history to repeat itself.

I stood up and clasped his hands, pulling myself up so that he could look into my eyes.  I prayed he couldn’t see my deceit in them.  “We had something once, and it was
tragically
beautiful.”  I looked down.  Even after all we’d been through, we’d never spoken this candidly.  I’d been too afraid of what he might do.  Now, I was finally telling him the truth, and even then he didn’t get it because he would hear it the way he wanted to hear it.

“All you have to do is ask.”  He said the words slowly, his lips moving inches from mine.  I smiled, because I would not ask if my life depended on it, which it kind of did.  He stood still, waiting for me to close the gap. 

To kill Xian, I had to catch him off guard.  I had already come to terms with the realization that I would do whatever it took to get rid of him, no matter the cost. 

I hesitated, but he did not.  He pressed into me enthusiastically, so that personal space was practically non-existent.  He was tempting me, testing me.  If I didn’t make the first move, he would know.  I hated myself, maybe even as much as I hated him, for what I was about to do.  But I wouldn’t have to suffer with it for long.  I closed the space between us, letting our lips meet again.  They fell into a familiar pattern, the intensity picking up rapidly.  We’d been together so long…we’d done this so many times that our bodies fell in sync. 

I saw the soft candle glow from the corner of my eye, and jerked him even closer, taking a few steps back.  He followed, moving towards me like a magnet, and I jumped on him.  Though surprised, he moved quickly enough to catch me, wrapping my legs around him so that I couldn’t slip.  He set me on the edge of the nightstand, moving with such zeal it almost reminded me of a young boy, getting the thing he’d been pining after.

I kissed him back, each second seeming to turn into a minute, and each minute turning to what felt like an hour.  I knew that in reality it was nowhere near that long.  My skin crawled, eager to be free of his touch, but I forced myself to remain still until his lips moved from mine, trailing slowly towards my neck.  I hadn’t planned it out past the distraction, and now I was stuck here as he moved to my weak spot, the one area that would shut me down. 
Breathe,
I reminded myself.  But his lips were on my neck now, his teeth grazing over the scars that he’d left there in the past, a permanent reminder of the twisted relationship I’d thought was acceptable.  But it wasn’t.  This wasn’t. 

Suddenly it was like none of the past year had ever happened, like I was the same foolish girl who thought that
maybe
he wouldn’t hurt me again, that this time would be different.  His fangs twitched against my skin, the temptation swelling throughout him.

A small gasp escaped me and I threw my arm back, found the candle, and slid it off the stand.  It wasn’t how I’d expected to do it, but I couldn’t let this go on any further.  Xian jumped at the sound, tearing away from me to look at the spot on the ground where the wax was already beginning to pool.  The flame had landed on the bottom edge of the burgundy bed skirt, and began to pour over it, spreading quickly up the side.  I jumped up, grabbed my untouched glass from behind me, and smashed it against the burning ground.  The flames leapt up, forking quickly in opposite directions.  I looked up just in time to make eye contact with Xian.  He stood motionless for just a moment, and then he found the betrayal in my eyes.

“Lilith?”  He hissed.  I turned, running for the door, but he caught my arm and dragged me back, the force of which sent me to the floor.  I backed away from him, the angry glint in his eyes enough to send me running.  But I had him where I wanted him, I just needed him to come closer.  And he did, towering over me with an incredulous sort of fury.  “What were you trying to do?”  He sneered.  “I didn’t have you pegged as the type of girl to use sex as a weapon.  Did you learn that from your new friend?”  He laughed, just a short sound that turned into a deep chorus of laughter when he decided he’d just amused himself.  “You want me to burn?”

He blocked my way to the door, and the fire was spreading more quickly still over the bed, devouring whatever it could.  The fire would kill him, but it would take me with it.  I could already feel the sheen of sweat creeping up on my skin; the heat was almost unbearable.  I made a move for the door, but Xian side-stepped, holding out his hand.  I stared at him a moment, before making the decision that he’d never touch me again.  I dove for the bed, aiming to toss myself right into the heart of the flames.

He grabbed me by the shoulder and braced me a few inches away from him so that he could, apparently, try and figure out when I’d gone insane or suicidal.  I expected him to punch me, to move his hand across the back of my face.  I didn’t expect him to drive me against the wall, moving with me so that his body pinned mine in place.  He stared at me another moment, the unbridled fury searing in his eyes, and then pushed my chin up with the palm of his hand.  A split second was all it would take to snap my neck, to behead me, and that’s what I expected.  But he didn’t.  Instead, he moved his mouth to my neck like a hungry predator, and tore into my skin.  I cried out in agony, but stood motionless, my body paralyzed with the surprise attack.  I summoned Calista’s strength, the image of her standing stolid and unmoving even as he killed her. 

My lungs ached and burned with the fire, the acrid black smoke that poured into them, and the scream that managed to escape from the back of my throat. 
Face death with dignity
, I reminded myself.  But the agony continued for longer than I’d have thought possible; this was endless.  Death wasn’t coming.

I pushed at his shoulders in an attempt to dislodge him, to get a little room for leverage.  But it wasn’t successful in the least; he leaned into me harder, his weight crushing my chest, grinding my skull against the wall.  I couldn’t move my head to see, so I whipped my arms around madly, hoping to disengage him, or at the very least get in a jab to the nose.  Instead, my fingers found purchase.  The bottle of alcohol, just a little bit out of reach. 

By some miracle, I was able to stretch for it.  Xian was so consumed he did not notice my movement was something other than a frantic attempt to get away, refusing to be distracted.  I could feel myself growing weaker, deflating like a balloon.  He was going to kill me, I thought.  But at the same time, I knew that was not the goal.   My feverish thoughts connected with my panicked vision, which was made faulty by the heat and the pain and the loss of blood, but my fingertips grazed the bottle, and in the next breath, I was able to wrap my hand around it.  It was so heavy I nearly dropped it. 

Xian tore away just in time to see the bottle before it hit him on the head.  He staggered, but otherwise seemed unaffected.  The bottle, however, shattered, splintering into several jagged pieces on the ground.  The contents met with the fire on the ground, and it took on a whole new life. 

The sound of it roaring in my ears was like a scream, a hot cackle as the fates laughed at my attempt to bring him down.

Xian dragged me away from the wall, and I struggled to maintain control of my limbs, but the effort was beyond futile.  Even at peak performance, Xian was stronger than me.  He dragged me with him from the room, away from the fire and the heat.  The inferno was blazing and roaring…if only I’d been able to distract him a short while longer, I might have succeeded.