Chapter 10
T he next day, Emma woke with a feeling of cautious expectation in her heart, and Damien’s face in her thoughts. Her mind flitted over the way he had looked at her last night, the way he had touched her—caressing and gentle. And then she remembered the things he’d said, and an uneasy tremor moved through her. She turned and looked at the clock—2:12 p.m.
In no hurry to jump up and face what was left of the day, she looked around her at the large four-poster bed, the paintings lining one wall depicting little girls playing on a beach, the large plant in the corner, and the long silk icy-blue draperies shut tight across the windows. A beautiful room, in a beautiful castle, where darkness played in the corners.
For a minute, she wished she could close her eyes, and when she opened them again, she’d be back in her room at Wolvesrain, Lucia would be in the kitchen making breakfast, and she would never have heard anything about a curse or demons or vampires. Or Damien?
“Damien.” She said his name out loud, rolling it around on her tongue, wondering what it would be like to be with him, to lie in his arms, to feel his kiss on her lips. He was the first man who’d ever looked at her with appreciation in his eyes. He didn’t just see the scars on her face, he saw all of her, and whether or not he knew it, he made her feel beautiful.
Her stomach growled. She sighed and got out of bed, then shuffled into the luxurious bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror and looked closely at the three long gashes on her right cheek. Demon essence. She didn’t feel it. Couldn’t see it. And yet, it was there. It made her different. And Damien thought she could use it to stop a demon.
“Wow, must be some stuff,” she muttered aloud to her reflection. She turned and stared longingly at the large oval tub. Thirty minutes in that tub, and she’d feel like a new woman, but it was late, and she needed to check on her dad. With one last look at the gleaming porcelain, she stepped into the shower, quickly bathed and then dressed. Whatever was happening around them, her father’s health was all that mattered to her right now. Damien or no Damien, if the Cadre couldn’t help her dad, then she would pack him up and take him to see Dr. Callahan in London.
Emma didn’t know what she expected when she walked into her father’s room, but seeing him sitting up in bed, a tray filled with his favorite foods on his lap in front of him, and a huge smile on his face, wasn’t it.
A nurse, who’d been sitting by his bed, laughed at something he’d said, and stood as she walked in.
He saw Emma and waved her in. “Good afternoon, Emma.”
“Hello, Dad,” Emma said, feeling slightly confused. There was more color in his cheeks than she’d seen in a very long time. Whatever the Cadre was doing for him, it seemed to be working.
“Hello, Miss McGovern,” the nurse said. “Your father is doing much better.”
“I can see that.”
“We’ll have him back to his old self in no time.” The nurse patted his leg and walked behind him to adjust his pillows.
Somehow Emma didn’t think his heart could be magically healed after one day at St. Yve. “What do you mean, ‘back to his old self in no time’?”
“I’m saying the doctor has ordered physical therapy. As soon as his muscles start working properly again, he should be able to get up and out of this bed and take me dancing.”
“You’d better believe it,” her father crooned.
The nurse smiled and pulled back his hospital gown to reveal a large bandage on his shoulder. Quickly and efficiently, she changed the dressing.
“What’s that?” Emma asked, but as she looked at the suspiciously familiar marks, she already knew. Wolf bite.
“Some kind of scratch,” the nurse said. “Don’t worry, it’s healing nicely.”
“That doesn’t look like a scratch.” Emma walked around the bed to get a closer look.
Quickly, the nurse finished then covered it up, and pulled his dressing gown back into place. “Don’t worry, Miss McGovern, we’re taking excellent care of your dad.” She smiled absently, then left the room.
“Hey, you chased her away,” her dad complained.
Emma stared at him, feeling as though she’d just tripped and fallen down the proverbial well. “Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t quite understand what’s going on. That didn’t look like a scratch to me. Why wouldn’t she let me see it?”
“Who cares? I feel better than I have in years. Maybe just getting out from behind those dank old walls at Wolvesrain was all I needed. Now put a smile on that pretty face, and stop chasing off the nurses. I can’t remember when I last had so much attention.” He winked at her the way he used to when she was younger, and her heart softened.
She sat down in the chair next to him. Whatever the reason for his remarkable recovery, it was good to see him in such high spirits for a change. She leaned forward and spoke softly. “Want me to poke your toes with a needle? Give you a sudden pain, so you can call her back?”
“Ha! Very funny.” He turned back to his food, separating the green peppers and onions from his potatoes. “How are you feeling?” he asked. “You look well. Not so mopey.”
“Mopey? I’m not mopey.” She shook her head and ignored his implication. “I slept well. I think.” Truth was she didn’t know how she felt or what to think. She picked up his orange juice and took a sip.
“Nightmares?”
“Not that I can remember. Though I’m sure that’s about to change.”
“Why?”
She sat quietly for a moment, not knowing where to start, not even sure what she wanted to say. “I’m sorry about what happened last night, Dad.” She placed her hand on his arm. “I should have listened to you. I should have brought you here sooner.” She gestured toward him. “Obviously, it was exactly what you needed.”
But was it the Cadre that had helped him, or something else? She looked at the bandage on his shoulder. If one of the wolves had bitten him, would he now have “the essence,” too? Would that account for his miraculous recovery?
She thought back on her own life. She’d never been sick. Not a cold, not a sniffle, not once. Lucia used to joke that it must have been because they were all so isolated out at Wolvesrain, but now Emma had to wonder.
Her dad picked up a piece of bacon and bit into it. “It’s all right. The important thing is that we’re here now. The Cadre can help us. They understand what we’re dealing with. They’ve offered us a safe haven.” He set down the bacon and looked directly into her eyes. “You’ll be able to find peace here, Emma, if you let them help you.”
The intensity of his gaze made her squirm, she stared down at her hands locked together in her lap. “I don’t know, Dad. Something about all this doesn’t feel right.”
His mouth straightened into a thin line.
“They want me to remember what happened to Mum, to relive that night,” she explained, expecting to see anger flaring in his eyes, but instead they filled with silent desperation.
“You need to cooperate with them. Give them whatever information they want.”
Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But you’re the one who never wanted me to think about that night, let alone talk about it. Now you want me to open a vein and let it all spill out?” She rose out of her chair, pacing back and forth, as turmoil warred within her. She stopped, and grabbed the back of her chair to steady herself, took a deep breath, and said, “I don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry. I was wrong. I should have let them come all those years ago after your mother died. Especially after what happened to Mr. Lausen. If I had, maybe our lives would have been different.”
“How can you say that? How can you think that after spending only one day in this place?”
“Because I know the truth now. It’s all very clear to me. You can never leave here, Emma. Do you understand? If you do, if you go back to Wolvesrain, he will find you.”
“He, who?” she demanded, her voice growing shrill.
“Sit down, Emma.”
Reluctantly, she sat back in the chair, and wished Lucia was here with her unwavering logic.
Her dad leaned forward and clutched her hand. She flinched when he squeezed too tightly. “Promise me,” he begged. “Promise me you will never leave. If you do, if you go back, one way or another, the curse will be fulfilled and you will die.”
Stunned, Emma stared at him as she finally began to understand. This was all about her. He was scared to death for her. Why? What had changed? Gently, she pulled on her hand, hoping he’d release her. “I can’t spend the rest of my life locked up in this mausoleum.”
“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “You can have a life here. I can’t lose you, too. Do you understand, Emma?”
His words, the dead certainty in his gaze scared her more than anything she’d ever felt before. What did he know?
“What is it really, Dad? What aren’t you telling me?”
He looked down, his face grim, his mouth closed.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I won’t promise I’ll stay here. I’m not going to live my life in hiding.” She stood.
“Wait.”
She took a deep breath, and steeled herself for what was coming next.
“How much of that night do you remember?”
She looked at him, but refused to answer. She wouldn’t go there, not with him, not with anyone.
“Emma, we need to know.”
“Now it’s we?”
“Don’t argue semantics with me, and don’t be stubborn to the point of stupidity.”
“Fine. Not much, okay?”
“But you have your dreams.”
She sighed. “All the time. So much, in fact, that I can’t tell the difference anymore between what are memories and what I’ve dreamed. I can’t tell Nica what happened, because I’m just not sure.”
“Maybe we can remember together,” he said, softly.
For the first time in a long time, she saw the pain in his eyes. And she had to wonder what he thought of what had happened, how much he had seen, how much he knew.
“I do remember Mum speaking to me. I’m not sure when, because I can only see her face, but I think it was right before she died. She told me never to fall in love. She told me to break the curse. She made me promise.”
He nodded. “I remember.”
“Were you there, because I really don’t understand any of it? What does falling in love have to do with anything?”
He sighed and leaned back against the pillows. “Falling in love is the answer to everything. People live for love, they die for love. Love is what makes the world go round.”
She thought of Damien, and immediately pushed him from her mind. What did she know of love? She’d spent her whole life at Wolvesrain and could count on two hands the number of people she knew. It was only natural that she would apply romantic feelings to the first man who had ever shown an interest in her life. Acting on those feelings, or even believing in those feelings, would be a huge mistake, and lead her to nothing but heartache.
“So many people live their lives in fear,” he said. “They’re afraid of love, of letting go and opening their hearts. They try so hard to rationalize and control their emotions that they never allow themselves to be truly happy. Your mother was one of those people. Don’t live like that Emma, take a chance on love.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “But how—”
“Okay, Mr. McGovern,” the nurse said walking back into the room. “It’s time for your physical therapy.”
“Are you going to be the one massaging my poor withered muscles?” he asked with a wicked smile.
She laughed and took the tray from his lap. “You are a devil.” She pulled a wheelchair from the corner of the room and helped him out of bed and into the chair. Before wheeling him out of the room, the nurse turned to Emma. “The dining hall is down the corridor to the left, if you’re hungry.”
Emma nodded. “Thanks.” Though she didn’t think she could eat, she ventured down the corridor, looking for the dining hall just the same, thinking about Damien. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him, but they did have a powerful connection. Perhaps she should take a chance, push it a little to see how far it went. One thing she knew for certain—she wasn’t ready for him to walk away. That alone should tell her something.
“Oh, there you are,” Nica said, rounding a corner and breaking into her thoughts. “I’m glad I found you. Are you ready for your first training session?”
Emma stared at her, her eyes wide. “Training session?”
Emma followed Nica into a grand room, which very well could have doubled for a chapel. The stained-glass windows inset into the walls on either side of the room depicted scenes of various religious beliefs throughout the centuries. In addition, several museum-quality tapestries lined the walls.
Breathless, Emma was particularly drawn to the intricate design and colors of the one titled Wheel of Becoming. She could have stood there for an hour gazing at the fine details and brilliant colors.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Nica said. “The wheel is divided into six realms of existence—the worlds of the gods, demons, humans, animals, ghosts and hell.”
“Fascinating,” Emma murmured, thinking the gods looked more frightening than the demons. The thought chilled her as she moved on to the next tapestry, this one a large disc etched with abstract symbols and various animals.
“This one displays the ancient theme of universal concord uniting heaven and earth and was used a guide for human life,” Nica explained. She moved forward and pointed to another. “The Chinese believe there are five elements—wood, fire, earth, metal and water. The wood kindles the fire as it’s devoured, the fire creating ash and generating earth, the earth producing metal within its rocks, and the metal secreting or attracting dew, which in turn enters the plants to produce wood.”
“I see.” But Emma didn’t see. What did all this have to do with her training?
“It is with these elements that you will learn to fight Asmos. With the earth and water, you will learn to sharpen your focus.” She pulled a beautiful necklace from her pocket. At the end of a long gold chain hung an intricate Celtic amulet carved from wood and in-grained with silver.
Nica placed the necklace into Emma’s hand. “You will use silver and ash wood to protect yourself, and you will use the minerals of the earth in the forms of the crystals. But most of all, you will use your desire to triumph over evil, your determination to succeed, to fight this demon.”
Stunned, Emma stared at the necklace, holding the delicate charm in her palm, then looked up at Nica. “Then I’m a lost cause.”
Nica placed a hand over hers. “No, yesterday you were a lost cause. Today we’re going to teach you how to have a future.” Nica continued her tour of the tapestries until they reached the far end of the room where she turned back and gestured widely. “Everything in this room carries deep historical significance. Our people have been collecting these items through the ages, keeping meticulous records of man’s spiritual journey across the centuries and continents.”
Emma looked up at the soaring ceiling where arched crossbeams, stained dark walnut, crisscrossed the room, but couldn’t find anything to say, other than to ask the question that had been plaguing her since this whole nightmare began. “Why?”
“So we can better understand demons and the role they play in the human realm,” Nica said.
Emma nodded, but the answer didn’t make her feel any better. Why were there demons here in the first place? Where did they come from? What did they want? As she pondered the questions, she realized these must have been the same questions the Cadre asked themselves when they’d started their foundation. The real question, then, the one that really mattered, was why her?
“But how is any of this going to help me fight the demon at Wolvesrain?”
“Everything we have learned since Camilla first summoned Asmos and cursed your family has convinced us that there is a way to fight him. It’s all a matter of timing.”
“But what about the vampires? How can we fight them, too?”
Nica stiffened and paused a second before she said, “Very carefully.”
Emma wanted to say something but had to swallow over the large lump in her throat. “I’m still not quite sure I want to believe there are such things.”
“Don’t be surprised. Vampires are closer than you think,” Damien said, as he walked through the door.
He was smiling at her. Not a big, wide knock-you-off-your-feet smile, but a small, intimate smile that made her feel it was meant only for her.
“What you need to know is how to neutralize one,” Nica said, cocking one perfectly arched brow at Damien.
“Which wouldn’t be nearly as easy as dusting one,” Damien responded, dryly.
“Which would go against the Cadre’s beliefs,” Nica reminded.
“Yes, ‘Do no harm.’ I know. How can I ever forget?” he asked with a vicious undertone of sarcasm.
Emma stared at the two of them, and took a step back. The undercurrent of hostility in the room was making her more than a touch uneasy. If they couldn’t agree on how to handle the vampires, then where did that leave her?
“Damien, perhaps you shouldn’t be here,” Nica said with a touch of a warning in her voice.
“I’ll play by the rules. Promise,” he said with a wink, then turned to Emma.
Drawn to the deep blue of his eyes, Emma felt momentarily mesmerized. She was entranced with the huskiness of his voice, the strength with which he carried himself, his utter confidence that he was right. As she stared at him, the walls around her fell away, and all she could focus on was him.
“Uh-huh.” Nica cleared her throat.
Reluctantly Emma turned her attention back to the woman. She stared at her for a minute, before she realized Nica’s silence was meant for her. “Okay. I get it. Focus.”
Nica rewarded her with a smile, and Emma realized that was the first time she’d ever seen the woman smile.
“Okay, Paul here is going to start by showing you a few basic martial arts self-defense moves,” Nica said. “You don’t have a lot of time, so we’re going to give you the condensed version.”
Emma turned, slightly surprised to see a dark-haired Asian man in loose black clothing standing behind her. Not only had she not heard him approach, she hadn’t even felt his presence.
“Paul,” Damien said, nodding a greeting.
Paul nodded stiffly, then turned back to Emma.
“After that, he will demonstrate how to use the different types of elements shown around the room.” Nica walked over to a display cabinet in the corner filled with various rocks and crystals.
“We’ve found that certain rocks have special abilities. Heliodor, for instance, helps enhance one’s intuition. This one is hematite.” She held up a large black crystal and handed it to Emma. “Ancient superstition says that large deposits of hematite were formed by spilled blood from battles that seeped into the earth. That’s why when hematite is ground into powder, it takes on the color of blood.”
“Lovely,” Emma said, and handed her back the stone.
“We’ve found the best way to stop a spiritual being is with a natural element.” Nica pointed to an odd-looking wand with a triangular bladed quartz for a tip. “That is a P’ur-pa. An ancient ‘magic’ deified dagger used for stabbing demons and exorcising evil.”
“A demon dagger?” Emma asked in amazement.
“Yes. Unfortunately, most possessed humans did not survive the procedure.”
“I can see why.”
Next Nica took a milky-white pyramid-shaped quartz out of the cabinet and held it out to her. “Today, we use a different method.”
Emma took the stone in her hand and stared at it, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did.
“It’s a casting stone. Usually one has to be born with some sort of magic ability to be able to use and control the stones. You will be able to because of the demon essence coursing through your blood. We will show you how to harness that energy, how to make it your own.”
“I still haven’t gotten used to the fact that I have this…essence.”
“It’s a part of you. Don’t turn away from it. Embrace its power. Make it your own.”
Emma nodded, though she really didn’t understand what power she had. She certainly didn’t feel powerful.
“How much do you know about magic?” Paul asked, stepping forward.
“It’s all right, Paul,” Damien said, before Emma could answer. He looked very casual leaning against the wall with one foot kicked over the other, and yet something about his posture, about the way he stroked his jaw deliberately with two long fingers, revealed he was anything but casual. “I will train her.”
Nica looked doubtful. “I don’t think so.”
“I taught Paul everything he knows. He is still only an apprentice. I am a master.”
Master at what? Emma thought, but didn’t ask.
Nica’s gaze narrowed. “Were,” she countered.
“Am.”
“I won’t risk Emma’s life,” Nica countered.
“That’s good to hear,” Emma added.
“I’m the best you have,” Damien argued. “You know that. What’s more, Paul knows it, too.”
They turned to Paul and, reluctantly, he nodded.
“Very well then,” Nica agreed. “As long as you abide by the Cadre’s rules.”
His mouth twisted into a smirk.
“And you’re cognizant of the effect you and Emma seem to be having on one another.”
Emma’s breath caught and her cheeks burned. Were her feelings for Damien that obvious? She didn’t even know the man, and yet, she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him.
“’Tis only the curse,” Damien argued, which brought a slight frown to Emma’s face.
“Is it?” Nica challenged, her chin lifting. “Not inside the castle walls it isn’t. It’s the two of you, and it will be magnified a hundredfold once you get back to Wolvesrain.”
You can never leave here, Emma. Do you understand? If you do, if you go back to Wolvesrain, he will find you. And you will die. Her father’s words rushed through her mind, and twisted her insides.
“Don’t worry, Nica,” Damien assured her. “We’ll be able to fight it.”
But even as he said it, Emma knew it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t be able to fight the attraction they had for one another any more than she could. There was something powerful drawing them toward one another. Even here within the walls of St. Yve where they were supposed to be safe, she could feel it pulling at her, pushing her toward him.
“What makes you so sure?” Nica asked, as doubt crinkled her forehead.
“Because I, more than anyone else, understand the consequences of this curse. The consequences of love.”
22-11-07, 07:03 PM
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