Chapter Five
The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. At least, according to Albert Einstein. The dictionary definition was the state of being seriously mentally ill to the point of madness.
Einstein would've called me insane. Wandering around the corridors of the castle, weaving in and out of courtyards, trying to find a way out, trying the doors that didn't budge now. Trying to use magic that I knew wasn't going to work.
The dictionary probably would've called Viviana insane. Perhaps in another life, she'd be diagnosed as a sociopath or borderline. I had no idea; I wasn't a psych major. I just knew there was something extremely off about the female. She smiled, she wept, she laughed, she danced, she sang, she snuggled, and she acted like any mother should. Maybe that's what her problem was; she was just a regular mother with a little too much power. I just wasn't sure since I'd never had a mother.
Either way, the castle was just one big shitpool of insanity.
Me trying to escape and Viviana asking me to have dinner with her, Rowan, and Tatiana.
Which I did not want to do, but what else was there to do?
Well, from a frat boy's point of view, plenty. There were video games of all kinds here, movies of all genres, music of all flavors, a gymnasium that called my name, several pool tables just waiting to be used for hustling. There was plenty of things to do, but I wasn't interested in playing games or relaxing. I wanted to get the hell out, but that wasn't an option.
So dinner at Tiffani's it was.
I just wasn't going to enjoy it.
It'd been three days already. No word from Alaric or anyone else, not even Xiphrus. This place must've been completely cut off from the outside universe, because no one came and went, unless Viviana permitted it, and every so often, it would be Rowan or Tatiana. Me? I just wandered. Tried all the doors, tested all the windows, went to the courtyard and wondered if I could scale up the side and roof it to the other side, but the stones were slippery and cold, iced over from the winter weather that seemed to be a constant here.
It was always a snowstorm on the outside of the castle, and in the courtyard, just a little flurry.
The castle was lax, quiet. The only time I heard music was when groups of the shadows gathered in the lounges to hang out and chat. Laughter and jokes and deep conversations. It was like a club that you weren't invited to. Well, Rowan and Tatiana invited me, but no thanks. Conversing with the enemy didn't seem like a good idea. Besides, I had nothing in common with these people.
They were tortured souls. Come together to share each other's pain, joy, sorrows. It was like group therapy or some shit. They knew each other, knew each other's pain. They were kin.
And I was an outsider.
I sighed, resting my forehead against the tiled wall of the gigantic shower case. You think I'm lying when I say gigantic, but the thing was big enough to fit another five people inside. Glass doors that slid open and closed, a ceiling that poured water down like heavy rainfall, electronic temp changes and whatnot. Like something out of a sci-fi meets goth. Because it was all dark in here. Even with the lights on, it still felt too dark.
I washed off and stepped out of the shower, rubbing my head with a towel as I came into the bedroom, only to pull up short when I saw Rowan seated in one of the black leather armchairs that faced the windows. He sat with one leg folded over the other, elbow on the armrest, hand propping up his head, and he looked like he was far away in thought.
I hated saying this, but I liked Rowan.
He wasn't afraid of anyone. Not me, and surprisingly, not Viviana. He treated her like he treated a dear sister. Same with Tatiana. He didn't take shit from anyone. He liked things to be relaxed and calm, kind of like me. A world of drama was not a world for us. But, he didn't mind listening to people talk. In fact, he enjoyed hearing stories from other people. I'm pretty sure he chronicled them, because I'd been to his room once, and there were quite a few leather bound journals in there, piled up on his writing desk and stuffed in a bookcase that ranged from things like Edgar Poe to Danielle Steele.
Not that Danielle Steele was my thing. A little too chicky for me.
Rowan didn't give a shit. He liked reading.
He also liked music. And I'm not talking classical shit, despite the fancy way he dressed and carried himself. He liked rap, he liked hip hop, he liked metal, and punk rock. He liked the discussion of social issues, of defying social rules.
He was a rebel with class.
And I hated that he was wedging himself under my skin like this.
Tatiana was no different. She was a tough female, but she was female and she was proud. She dressed that way too; flashed skin without shame, did her make up anyway she felt like it. She shaved her head because she said she was too lazy to tame her tight curly locks. She didn't put up with bullshit, especially from males. If you made a tit joke, she'd punch you, well, right in the tit. If you told her to make you a sandwich, she'd make you choke on your own tongue.
But she wasn't aggressive. She wasn't up in your face about how shitty of a person you were. Nah, she was assertive. She was confident, she was classy, but quirky and unique. She loved movies, had seen every single one in the castle, could give you facts about the making, about the directors, and actors. She rewatched movies without complaint. She also loved working out. She ran the track, swam laps, and sparred with anyone who had the balls to take her on. MMA was her game.
She was a prideful female and she didn't let anyone forget it.
And, again, I hated that she was working her way past my defenses.
She and Rowan were not my friends. They were just guards to make sure I stayed in my place. They made sure I didn't leave the castle and that none of the other shadows jumped me like Simon had made the mistake of doing. They kept an eye on me and reported to Viviana.
They were just babysitters.
Really fun babysitters.
"Can I help you?" I asked drolly as I wrapped my towel around my waist. Rowan looked up, not blinking twice at the sight of me mostly naked.
"Just dropped by to see how your night went," he responded coolly, lowering his arm to rest on the chair. I frowned a little.
He'd done that yesterday too. Asking me how my night went.
Normally, I'd say full of night terrors, waking up paralyzed and laying there for a couple hours trying to tell myself that it was just nightmares and everything was over now, time to get back to reality. That's how it had been for the past year. Ever since Xiphrus had come back, the nightmares returned. Because that's what he was. A fucking nightmare.
But for the first time in a year, I woke up feeling good. No nightmares. No sleep paralysis. No panic attack. Just waking up, getting showered, having enough breakfast burritos to put Taco Bell out of business. It was... nice.
But totally suspicious. I mean what the fuck are the chances of me not having all of that nightmare shit upon arriving here? Nah, Viviana had done something. I had no idea what, but she'd done something. She probably got in my head somehow, cleaned things up a little, tucked it all back in a padlocked safe, then she'd probably convince me that my being here was a good thing, that I was feeling good here and I should stay forever and ever and join her little clan of shadowy misfits.
Xiphrus would've fallen for it.
He would've probably got down on his knees and kissed her feet and thanked her for helping him and then bend over whenever she asked. She'd use him to kill anyone who threatened her or her children. I didn't give a shit what she said; she was capable of killing. She was capable of torture.
She was plotting something.
I just didn't know what yet.
And somehow, it involved her sucking up to me.
"Great," I said after a moment, deciding not to lie about it, "Well rested. Starving. Ready for dinner tonight?" Rowan wrinkled his nose a little.
"Sounds like we're going on a date."
"Gross."
"I concur," Rowan rose to his feet, reaching up to brush his hair back from his face as he glanced about the room, "I also came on behalf of Viviana, in order to ensure that your dress for tonight is appropriate, as Viviana isn't too fond of casual clothing." I guessed that, considering every day she wore a different fancy outfit. At the same time, I grimaced because ew, formal wear.
"I think I can manage on my own," I told him instead. He didn't look convinced and I squinted at him a little. Was he trying to tell me my choice of clothing was uncool? I didn't want to hear that from him, the guy who wore designer business man pants and vests. Shit, his outfits almost reminded me of Michael's. If Michael was into all black attire with a bit of a punk flare.
Today, Rowan had gone with --shocker-- an all black palette. Slacks, a button up dress shirt and a metallic black vest, and steel toed boots that were at odds with the rest of his Mad Men style.
"Let's take a look at your wardrobe," Rowan said without looking at me, walking over to the closet to pop it open. I rolled my eyes, leaning on the doorway of the closet as he poked around inside, taking things off the racks and admiring them, returning them, taking a few more down. While he ransacked my closet, there was a knock on the bedroom door and I turned to see Tatiana walking in, dressed in a tight turtleneck and skinny jeans. Of course, like everyone else in the place, her wardrobe consisted of black-- save for the gold charm necklace she wore.
"Oh, did I interrupt your man shopping?" She asked, walking over to the chairs and flopping down like she owned the damn place. I grimaced at her.
"What'd you want?" I asked as she tilted her head back on her hand, watching Rowan toss a few things at me, which I barely caught because I was not ready to be bombarded with Gucci.
"Just came to see what you boys were up to. I got bored kicking Dion's ass at pool."
"You know he cheats, right?" I asked dryly, folding up the clothes and tossing them on the end of the bed. Tatiana gave me a dry stare.
"You cheat too."
"I cheat well. He sucks at it."
"No such thing as cheating well if everyone already knows it," Tatiana answered and I paused to consider that as she sat up, "So, you seem to be settling in pretty well around here." I frowned at that, turning to look at her as Rowan came out with some more clothing, inspecting it as he walked to the end of the bed. I saw him glance out the corner of his eye at Tatiana, and she glanced back at him, both of them having this two second mental convo I wasn't invited to.
"No," I answered her, making her look up skeptically, "I'm dealing with a shit situation while I try to figure out how I'm gonna get out of here. You're not bad people, as far as I know. So thanks for what you're doing, but I don't belong here."
"How can you be so sure?" Tatiana asked. I shook my head, reaching up to brush wet hair back from my face as I went over to pick up a pair of pants and underwear Rowan had picked out for me. Now the male shadow was lounging over by the windows, leaning on the frame with his arms folded over his chest. He wasn't spaced out. He just looked like it.
"Because I'm not some poor unfortunate soul," I drawled, dropping my towel and hiking my boxers up, "I'm here because your boss kidnapped me to get back at my dad. That's it." Rowan made a noise that was like a disbelieved laugh, and I glanced at him, but he didn't elaborate. Tatiana spoke instead.
"Viviana doesn't let just anyone into the castle," she said, leaning forward in her seat with her arms resting on her knees, "She sees something in you that she likes."
"Probably my eyes."
"Probably your soul," Tatiana answered, and I frowned, turning to look at her as I zipped up my pants, "Viviana doesn't really care about physical beauty. She'll notice it and compliment you, but what she's really big on is who you are as a person. Why do you think she liked that Hades person so much?"
"Because evil attracts evil?" I asked drolly. Hades wasn't a good person. Sure, he'd changed a bit over the years, but did he completely? Given the way he was ignoring Ambrosius and treating him like garbage for making an adult decision to have a child, I'd say no. Hades was still Hades. Selfish to the core of his rotten soul. He was like an overly obsessed girlfriend.
Once someone else occupied the attention of his sons, he went out of his way to fuck it up. He'd wanted to vote to kill Adrian, Malachi's husband. He wanted to castrate Sept for years. Noe? Not nearly good enough for his son, Zelios. Cain and Abel? A thousand reasons why that relationship was f to the ucked up. Blaine? Don't get me started on Blaine. And when Hades found out Alexion and Charon were shacking up, he'd scheduled Alexion to be tortured on a daily basis. Ambrosius was his biggest failure as a parent. While he ignored his other sons up until a certain point, he'd completely controlled Ambrosius. The kid couldn't take a shit without daddy's permission. Nikias had been the only lucky one to avoid Hades's wrath... mostly. Hades did not like his boyfriend, Demetrius. Not one bit.
And that was just a few of the fun things Hades had contributed to his sons. The list was lengthy and filled with misery. Something Hades never even apologized for, not that I would believe that bullshit.
If it wasn't for Lucifer, Hades probably would've continued his path of terror. Then again, not even Lucifer could tame Hades.
"You're very judgmental," Tatiana decided, making me frown, "I rather enjoy Hades." I scowled.
"How do you even know him?"
"I was there when Viviana was talking to him. A fly on the wall, if you will."
"Almost literally," Rowan put in. Made sense. I'd learned the shadows here literally could become shadows on the walls. They just blended in with everything, which explained why they chose to wear black. It made it easier for them to blend in with their surroundings.
"Have you ever looked at someone and saw them as a person and not the mistakes they've made? After all, our mistakes do not define who we are," Tatiana pointed out. I stared at her.
"Hades didn't make mistakes. He caused monumental catastrophes that people ignore because he's apparently super sweet now. They pretend he's fine and dandy now and forget about all the horrible things he's done. He's not a good person just because he's wearing a different mask now," I explained dryly. I turned and picked up a shirt from the bed, then cringed at it. I looked at Rowan, who looked down at his fingernails to avoid my scathing look. I tossed the shirt aside and went for another one, slipping it on and doing up the buttons.
"Haven't you ever made monumental mistakes?" Tatiana asked.
"None that scarred children and gave them thousands of years worth of therapy."
"You're not without sin, Stanton."
"I'm not claiming to be a good person, and that's just it. I know I'm not. So why do people like Hades insist on pretending to be good people when they're not?"
"Do you not believe in change?"
"In the seasons? Yes. In the McDonald's menu? Sure. In people? No."
"What about your husband," Tatiana asked, and I froze for a moment, then turned to look at her, wondering how the hell she knew anything about Alaric, "Has he ever made any mistakes that hurt someone? Has he changed?"
Okay, that was different. First of all, Alaric didn't make mistakes that caused damage to another person. Second of all, Alaric only changed a little since Hades had fixed his vessel. He'd been created with the mental focus of a robot. He had to protect the family. He had to have a family to support him. When his family started moving away and making their own lives, his initial programming rejected it all. And when he found out Akin was living in Hades, that had been the final tipping point. He had to get his family back and he had to have them together. Even if he himself could not comprehend why he had to do it, he did it.
That was what had changed.
Alaric could now focus on himself, on his needs, and the needs of more than just his family. He was still the same person he always was; stubborn as hell, incredibly smart, quick witted, honest and straightforward, not afraid to stand up for himself or what he believed in. He could be an epic pain in the ass sometimes, like when he wanted to discuss my dad coming back, but he was doing it from a good place. He wanted me to patch things up with Xiphrus, so I could live in a big happy family like his, and that was sweet, but it was impossible. He didn't recognize things like that; the true evil out there in the world.
"Alaric is a pain in the ass," I said, making Tatiana cock a brow, "He wants things to be nice and good. He logically knows not everything is, but he wants to try anyway. But he does it from a good place, because he is a good person. The only thing that's changed is his ability to focus on himself and his dreams for once. That's called growing up. So no. Alaric is nothing like Hades. Nothing like Xiphrus, and nothing like you people. He's a good person. He's always been a good person."
"You're biased," she answered simply, "He's your husband. Of course you're going to say good things about him."
"You want me to say something bad about him? Okay. He leaves his cigarettes in his ashtray and they smell like shit."
"No. You're not getting what I'm trying to say," Tatiana sighed and rose to her feet, "Maybe you should work on those glasses of yours. You know, the ones that make you see everyone in black and white and not in shades of gray. Anyway, I'm going to the gym. Meet me there later, or don't." She gave us a wave, then left the room.
She was pissed. It didn't necessarily show on her face, but she was pissed. I'd irritated the hell out of here and there was a small satisfaction in it, but I was mostly still annoyed she was pushing that conversation on me.
Judgmental, she called me. Well, excuse me for not wanting to make company with terrible people. I wasn't going to slap a gold star on their foreheads just because they smiled while they committed a murder. That was just stupid.
"Looks good," Rowan said, making me look up as I pulled my jacket on, "That should work for tonight. I'm actually going to leave you alone for a while. I have to run an errand."
"And I take it that if I asked you to take me with you, you'd say...?"
"Nope," Rowan answered, making me nod, "I'll be back, though, and we can go to dinner together. See you in a bit." He vanished right on the spot. I rolled my eyes and changed out of the stiff formal clothing and went back to a v-neck top and jeans, throwing on a leather jacket as I left the room to once again meander for a door I could open, window I could smash, wall I could climb.
I was going insane here. Having philosophical debates with the enemy, wearing their clothing, eating their food, having dinner with the patrona. Going to doors I've already tested, windows I've already punched and hadn't made a dent in, clawing at slippery walls. Trying to use magic that I knew wasn't going to work. I couldn't even teleport to one side of the castle, or my bedroom. It fizzled and popped out.
I stopped in front of yet another door, grabbing the handle, giving it a twist, nothing happened. I sighed and bumped my forehead against it, leaning on it and wishing it would just smash to pieces or be a door to another realm.
I missed Alaric.
I missed waking up to the way he smelled, dark chocolate and spices. The smell of his cinnamon buns, both kinds. I missed seeing him saunter into the bedroom, wearing a new pair of panties every day, asking me if it looked nice and then asking me to test it out later that day. I wanted to feel him in my arms again, feel his silky soft skin, his warm breath against my face, his nails raking down my back as I made love to him until the sun rose.
I even missed arguing with him. I missed his witty quips. I didn't even care if he threw something at me at this point. He'd thrown a lamp at me once, smashed it right against the wall, then later apologized and saying it was an overreaction to my immense stupidity and I couldn't find it in me to be angry, so I'd laugh at him until he hit me, and we'd end up in bed again for the whole night.
Gods, I needed to be with him.
I needed to know he was okay.
Viviana wouldn't go after him. He wasn't involved in this. No, she'd just hang onto me. And that alone was going to hurt him as much as it hurt me. We were separated. And I hated it. Goddamn, I hated it so much. I just wanted to be with Alaric again. If I could just hear his voice...
I stepped from the door and wiped my hands down my face, taking a deep breath before moving onto the next door. A twist and a grunt, nope. Door was locked up tight. Another twist and a grunt, nope; that one was locked too. I went to a couple windows, pushing on the glass, it didn't even creak. I picked up a nearby chair and threw it and it just hit the window and fell down, not even a crack in the glass. I put the chair back, shoving it under a desk and leaning on it as I looked down at the desk in the reading room I'd found myself in.
The room was pretty small in comparison to the other rooms in the castle. A couple book shelves, a roaring fireplace, fine polished Victorian furniture, a writing desk with pencils, papers, notebooks, an ink and quill, a phone--
A phone.
"Fuck me," I cursed, reaching for the phone and picking it up off the black cradle. I held it to my ear and listened to a dial tone. Gasping in relief, I quickly dialed using the old phone dial pad, listening with bated breath afterwards. There was a short pause, and the phone began to ring. I collapsed in the chair at the writing desk, leaning over on my knees as I listened to it ring.
Come on, Alaric. Come on, pick up. Please, gods, please, pick up, baby.
"...llo?" Shit. It was hard to hear. There was static on the line, and his voice was broken up, but fuck me, his voice. I could hear his voice. I could hear the soft murmur as if he were right behind me. I closed my eyes, trying to suck up the pansy ass urge to cry.
"Alaric? Alaric, can you hear me?" I asked at last. There were some crackles, more static, and then...
"... god... Stan...n... you?"
"Yes! Yes, gods, yes, baby, it's me. Fuck, it's me." Oh my gods, his voice. My name, he said my name. He heard me. He could hear me.
"Oh... god... St-- where-- you?"
"Viviana. Viviana's place. I don't know where it's at. Baby, listen to me--"
"St-- llo? Hello? Stanton-- There?"
"Yes! Alaric, I'm here. Can you hear me? Alaric?" I was on my feet now, gripping the phone to my ear while grabbing onto the cradle of the phone and picking it up off the desk. I got near the window, but it didn't fucking help at all. All I got was a shit ton of static. I cursed as the dial tone took over. I slammed the phone down, taking a deep breath and dialing again.
Come on, come on. Don't do this to me. Don't, please.
I held the phone to my ear and listened. It started to ring again, but the static took over and I barked another curse. I wanted to smash the phone across the room, but it was my last hope of contacting anyone. Instead, I grabbed up a lamp and threw it across the room, straight into the fire where it exploded and popped and hissed, a shower of sparks flashing up through the chimney. I turned back to the phone to start dialing again when a strange prickling sensation crept up the back of my neck. I only had a chance to look up when a hand clamped over my mouth and another went around my waist, hauling me back into the darkness of the room.
Ah, fuck.
The person who'd grabbed a hold of me was huge. About my height, but built like a tank with steely muscles that actually hurt when I punched at them. A second later, I was slammed up against the wall, my face kissing the ugly brocade wallpaper of the room. A hand clamped on the back of my neck and I felt someone tugging at my jeans, making me roll my eyes.
Not this asshole again.
I drew my elbow back and it connected with a row of rock hard abs, but thankfully it was enough to make Simon grunt and stumble back. I whipped around and roundhouse kicked him right in the head so he smashed his face on the desk. I cursed as the phone jumped on the desk, then gasped when it rang.
Holy shit, no way.
I went to grab the phone, but Simon whipped around and grabbed me by the leg, hauling me down onto the floor. I fought and pushed at his face as he struggled to get me underneath of him. I headbutted him and he fell over, giving me a chance to lunge up and grab onto the phone.
"Hello?! Hello?!" I listened to the static on the other line, my breath held for a second before I gasped when Simon grabbed me and threw me down on the floor. I roared and kicked him in the groin so hard he squeaked and hit the floor like a rock. I was on my feet a second later, grabbing the phone, but all I got was dial tone.
Oh fuck this fucking shit.
I threw the phone on the desk and whipped around to look down at Simon, who was still clutching his balls. Infuriated beyond belief, I drew my foot back and kicked him directly in the mouth. He choked and blood exploded from his nose and dribbled past his teeth. He wheezed and struggled to get up, but I rammed the tip of my steel toed boot right into his ribcage, listening to the savory sounds of bone snapping and cracking.
Simon howled and I drew my foot back again, kicking him in the kidneys, causing his body to torque on the oriental rug.
"Fuck you, you bastard," I snarled, then kicked him again and again. Eventually, he was nothing more than a flopping body on the rug. He'd passed the fuck out. Not dead, but goddamn it, I wished he was. I kicked him one last time, then turned to the phone. I picked up the phone, but this time when I held it to my ear, there was no dial tone. Confused, I looked at it, then picked up the cradle, looking down to see... no cords.
Scowling, I set the phone down and pushed the desk away from the wall. Sure enough, there was not a single outlet behind it, not a single cord. As if the phone had never been plugged in.
But that didn't make any sense... I'd just called him. I'd heard his voice. He'd said my name.
I picked up the phone and held it to my ear again, but there was no dial tone.
Behind me, Simon moaned on the floor and I whipped around to look at him. I looked at the phone. A small wave of panic iced my veins and I grabbed the phone, dropping down on the floor and grabbing a handful of Simon's dark hair, shoving the phone against his ear.
"Do you hear anything?" I demanded. He said something that sounded like a muffled curse to go fuck my mother. I punched him in the face with the phone and he whined. I grabbed him again and shoved the phone against his ear.
"Do you hear anything?" I repeated, this time more angrily and more firmly. He choked on some blood, then went silent, listening to the phone. He gave his head a shake. I cursed, shoving him down on the floor. I picked the phone up and broke it over his head, knocking him out cold. I stepped over his body, breathing hard as I raked my hands through my hair.
No way. Not going insane. I know I heard that phone ring. I know I heard Alaric. I heard it.
Not insane. Not insane. Not insane.
I paced the room for a while, then decided to take off before Mr. Persistent woke up. I left the room, gave it a lock behind me just to slow him down, then made my way back to my bedroom. I felt like shit now. I was confused, frustrated as fuck, and missing Alaric now more than ever. I heard his voice, I know it, and hearing it had only made my ache for him more.
I got back to my room, turned the lights off, stripped down, and crawled under the blankets, pulling them up over my head and drawing one of the pillows close to my chest as I took deep even breaths to try and ease the panic that was still swelling in my chest.
I didn't like this. I didn't like how familiar this feeling was. It had been a very, very long time since I felt like this. It was the feeling of being utterly alone and lost. There was nowhere for me to go. I was in a realm I didn't even know existed. I couldn't contact anyone on the outside. I had no one.
I didn't even have that stupid piece of shit cloak.
Not that I wanted it. I didn't want that stupid thing anywhere near me.
Goddamn it.
I found myself remembering Viviana's whole breathing exercise. I hated it. I didn't want to think about it and how much it helped, but I hated this feeling of panic even more. I was always level-headed. I didn't overreact, I didn't freak out, I didn't panic. That wasn't me. I didn't have the luxury of it, never had, and never will. I was Death and I was afraid of nothing, wept over nothing.
The last time I'd cried, I was standing in the woods, facing Joxeia. It was the last time I let myself be weak in front of anyone. I still remembered standing there in front of him, my throat burning and aching like a bitch because Xiphrus had bitten me.
He wanted me to lure Joxeia back to him, to Atlan. He hadn't come right out and said it, but he was basically wink-wink-nudge-nudging me to do it.
"If you love me, Death, you will do as I ask," Xiphrus's cold voice echoed in my ears, his arms around me, not to snuggle me like he used to, but to hold me in place, threatening me, "You are my son. You owe me this. I have given you everything you could ever ask for, except that you come join me. If you will not do that, then at least do this one thing." I remembered being afraid then. I remembered the rancid taste in my mouth, like having drank battery acid. The feeling of his arms around me, not because he wanted them there, but because he needed them there, to convince me there was still something between us, but I wasn't stupid.
"No," I answered, my voice trembling as I stood there awkwardly with my arms pinned to my sides, my muscles twitching as I prepared for him to kill me like he'd killed my other siblings, "I can't. I can't do that." Xiphrus's arms tightened around me. His breath grew labored in my ear, like he was fighting the urge to just smash me and cut me into pieces right then and there. Not that he did anything to stop it, because a second later, his fangs had sank down into my throat.
It had caught me off guard. Xiphrus had never hurt me physically. Ever. Even when we horsed around in the gardens, he never hurt me. If I so much as skinned my knee, he was all over me, healing me and cradling me in his arms, telling me all would be well. And I didn't often hurt myself during those days. The worst pain I'd felt was probably a papercut.
Having my own blood bite down on my throat? I'd rather have a thousand papercuts.
My scream made my ears ring and my hands found Xiphrus's robes, tugging at them to get him off me, but he stayed latched to my throat and I felt blood leave through the puncture wounds, felt his teeth biting down harder, like he was fully prepared to take a chunk out of me and leave me to bleed to death. Panicked, I'd started punching him, until my knuckles bruised and bled, until finally Xiphrus unlatched from my throat and took a few steps back.
He blinked. He had the balls to look shocked at what he'd done. He stared at me, my blood smeared all over his mouth, dripping from his lips to the floor.
I took several trembling steps back, clutching at my throat breathlessly. I had to get out of there. I wasn't safe in that house anymore. He was going to come back again and again until he killed me. And he was going to kill me, of that I had no doubt. I'd watched him gut my brothers and sisters. I'd heard the tales. I'd seen his beast before. He was fully capable of slaughtering me and pretending it never happened.
So before he could talk me into doing his dirty work, I'd vanished and ran to the next person I could think of who would help me. And I hated that weakness, hated running to Joxeia for help. I'd wanted to stay out of this whole mess, praying it would just go away on its own, but at that point, I realized there was no way out. I had to choose a side.
So I chose Joxeia's. And the look on his face when he'd seen what Xiphrus had done to me was probably the first time I actually saw an expression on Joxeia's... and the last. Joxeia was always difficult to read because he had what people nowadays called the resting bitch face. He didn't always look friendly and sweet, despite having the appearance of a fluffy sweet angel. He was cold, and after the thing with Xiphrus, after Geara had left, he'd only shut down further.
I'd gone back to talk to him several times after the war ended, but he didn't say anything to me. He'd just looked at me with that same empty expression, like he couldn't give two fucking shits about me. I'd given up. I was done.
And it was after everyone else had turned away that I realized I didn't need anyone else. I was tired of running to other people for help. I didn't fucking need them. What made me think I needed to depend on them? What, because they were family?
Fuck that.
Family my ass. Family was a bullshit social term we slapped on people of the same blood. In the end, they were just like everyone else. Strangers. Traitors. Backstabbers. Literally. And I was done with it, so, so done with it. Alaric's family might be great and nice and all, but he had no idea what family was truly capable of. How easy it was for them to just dump your ass.
Holy shit, I was pissed now. The anger overrode the fear and the panic from earlier and I threw back the blankets, lunging out of bed. I slapped on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top and went down the hallway to the training center. There were a few people already there, but most of them were keeping to themselves. I spotted Tatiana working on one of the treadmills, her earbuds as she ran hard. I went and picked up a music player at the front desk where a fridge held water bottles, buckets with towels, bins with power snacks and shit like that.
I went over to one of the treadmills and logged on, my sneakers gripping the belt as I set the pace and started running. The music player turned on and X Gon Give it To Ya by DMX blared through the earbuds. My sneakers beat the shit out of the treadmill as I ran, arms pumping at my sides as I sprinted on the thing.
No more fear. I wasn't going to let myself do that again. I wasn't going to scream and cry, and I sure as fuck wasn't going to run to someone else. Nah, I was done waiting for help that was never going to come. I was done hoping someone was gonna be there to back me up.
In the end, I could trust no one, but myself.
With that in mind, I beat foot on the treadmill until a smoky stench rose up from the belt and it whined in protest. I shut the damn thing off before it exploded under my feet. I saw Tatiana shutting hers off beside me, and I felt eyes on me, but I didn't give a damn. I kept my earbuds in so I could ignore everyone easier and made my way over to one of the punching bags. I strapped on a pair of workout gloves and got right to work on the damn thing.
Each punch was a rocket of adrenaline up and down my arms. Each impact of my fists, a few kicks here and there, was a wicked rush of satisfaction. I smashed the goddamn thing, sending it flying up into the air, then swinging back toward me, where I caught it with kick after kick, punch after punch. I sent a roundhouse kick on the thing and the chain overhead yelped and snapped, coming loose so the damn bag went flying across the matted area and smacked into a wall, denting it in.
Breathing hard, I moved onto the next one. I could feel my knuckles bruising, could feel my muscles protesting the work out, but hot damn, I was still angry as hell. I wanted the punching bag to be Xiphrus. I wanted to feel his bones give way under my fists. I wanted to see his blood hit the floor. I wanted to bash his teeth in. If I could make him scream, all the more better. I pictured Joxeia at some point, because you know what? Fuck him too. Geara? Selfish bitch! Satanika? Rot in Gehenna for eternity! Love my ass!
As my music player switched over to Berzerk by Eminem, I drew my fist back and punched it right through the punching bag, spilling the insides out onto the mats, aside from the concrete center. Huh, looks like not even concrete could handle this shit right now. I suckerpunched it again and the chain overhead snapped off.
What a rush!
I moved onto a third one, moving to reel my fist back to punch it, I felt a hand land on my shoulder and I spun around to see Tatiana standing there, staring at me like she was approaching a raging bull. Behind her, several of the shadows had slowed down their workout to eye me, and I met their looks with a scathing glare before looking at Tatiana.
"What?" I demanded, taking out my earbuds.
"You wanna go do some feng shui for a little while, man? You're ruining the equipment."
"Fuck off. I'm not gonna take it easy on your shit. I don't even want to be here."
"Alright, well, that's not my problem. You're here because Viviana brought you here, not me, and not the rest of us. We're just here to work out."
"If you got a problem with it, why don't you replace the equipment with something that can actually handle a little beating?" I demanded, getting in her face. Tatiana's black eyes flashed and her body coiled up. She was getting angry. She was about ready to hit me, and I had the sudden need for something that fought back. The treadmill and the punching bags were weak in comparison to someone who knew how to fight, and I'd see Tatiana spar with some of the other guys. She was a match for them, if not better. She was specially trained. A regular badass.
And she was asking for it by getting up in my business.
"You want to take me on, Death?" She demanded.
"I want to break your face against the goddamn floor and watch you bleed is what I want to do. Unless you're still worried about being a good person," I responded, mocking her for her earlier opinion in our conversation. Her eyes flared. She immediately spun and headed for the sparring rooms. I followed close behind her, seething to get my hands on her and show her I wasn't going to sit around and let these people fuck me.
Once we were in the room, strapping on gloves, I noticed that one wall was made of glass so that the outsiders could stand there and gawk, and they were definitely gawking. I looked over as Tatiana tore her baggy tank top off to reveal her sports bra, and she did a couple stretches before popping back up on her feet to look at me.
"You gonna come at me, big boy, or do I have to make the first move?"
"Ladies first."
"So go then," Tatiana mocked. Pissed, I decided to hell with trying to be polite and launched at her, aiming a punch to her head. She ducked and spun around, aiming a kick at my back, but I blocked it and punched at her stomach. She blocked and grabbed my arm, yanking me toward her so she could smash her elbow into my nose. I felt the breakage, the blood pouring down my face, and cursed the pain. I decided to use the proximity we had going on and grabbed onto her waist, ramming my knee up into her ribcage.
She gasped, clawing at my arms as I heaved her up off the ground and threw her clear across the room. She rolled on the mats, then bounced back up, breathing hard. She wiped blood from the corner of her mouth and came toward me slowly, like she was approaching a wild animal. I bared my fangs at her for added effect, and she just narrowed her eyes, lips twitching.
She feigned a move to the left, and I caught her on the right. She was a blur of fists flying at my face, my throat, even a move aimed to gauge my eyes out with her fake nails. I blocked every chance I had, and she was tired of it. She spun away from me and stood back, moving around me slowly, trying to figure out a better tactic.
"You're not mad at me," Tatiana spoke slowly, and I smirked at her attempt to rationalize this fight, "I don't know what it is upsetting you, but kicking my ass isn't going to make you feel better."
"No, but it's a great start. After I'm finished with you, I'm going to destroy every single one of your shadow bitches until I get to Viviana and I get home."
"This isn't going to work, Death. You can't kill us as easily as you can other creatures. We're different."
"I don't give a shit. Everything has to die sooner or later. Trust me. I'm an expert on that kind of thing," I answered, then lunged for her. She spun and ducked low, sweeping her leg out to knock my legs out from under me, but I leapt up and spun around, kicking her hard in the face so she slammed into the mats. She bounced for a second, then spat blood out on the mat. It was a black glob of oil, nothing like the red that was gushing out of my nose and seeping into my mouth.
She shot back up so fast, I couldn't track her and her fist collided with my gut. I choked, stumbling back. She kicked me in the stomach, knocking me back. I hit the mat on my back, gasping for breath as my lungs protested the whole thing, and it only got worse as she climbed on top of me and sat on my chest.
"Look at me," she commanded, grabbing my jaw and forcing my head straight, my eyes glaring up at her, "I am not the one you want to hurt. I am not the person who hurt you, Death."
"Bullshit! You're keeping me here against my will!"
"I am not."
"You're working for Viviana and that makes you an accomplice! If you won't let me out, I'll kill you!" I grabbed her around the waist now, hooking one leg around hers and flipping us so I was slamming her down on the mat. She gasped, wincing in pain. I drew my fist back to suckerpunch her across the face, only to stop. Something prickled the back of my neck. Like an ice cube sliding down my spine, and suddenly I was falling back on the mat, gasping for breath.
Tatiana sat up, coughing and rubbing at her throat where I'd grabbed her and threatened to crush her esophagus. Blinking, I looked up to see Viviana standing on the other side of the glass wall, with her shadows gathered around her, but keeping a good amount of space between them and her. Viviana's expression was calm when I looked over, and when we made eye contact, she smiled and gave me a little wave.
Curling my lip, I launched to my feet and stalked across the room to the glass to get in her face, even with the two inches of glass between us. I drew my fist back and slammed it right into the glass. The way the glass cracked sounded like a violin string breaking as the cracks shot across the glass and spiderwebbed the image of Viviana looking back at me. She was still smiling.
I punched the glass again, and a second time, but the glass wasn't breaking.
"Let me out!" I shouted at her. She tilted her head.
"You can just walk out of there."
"Not here, you dumb bitch! I want out of this realm! I want out of your dumb Addams' Family freakshow! I want to go back home!"
"How about you come out of that room and we talk first?" She asked. I glared at her. Gods, I wanted to punch her in the face. I whipped around and headed for the door, walking past Tatiana, who lunged to her feet.
"Death--"
"Shut up," I snapped, whirling on Tatiana, who frowned, "My name is Stanton. Do not ever fucking call me that again." She said nothing now as I threw the door open and bashed it against the wall. I walked around the room toward Viviana, picking up speed and preparing to punch that smile right off her face, except when I was just inches from her, some unseen force latched onto me and held me still.
I froze in place, unable to move. My muscles were still locked up, my body still coiled to fight, but holy shit, I could not move, no matter how much I fought it. So I was stuck, standing right up in Viviana's face, and she just smiled, which only infuriated me further.
Meanwhile, the shadows that were gathered around got closer, like they were tense and afraid I'd hurt their mother.
"Please leave," Viviana said without looking at her children, "I wish to have a word with our guest here. I will fix the broken equipment. And I will be fine. He cannot hurt me. This you know to be true." The shadows shared wary looks. Tatiana joined them and looked at Viviana in concern, but Viviana simply smiled at her. Tatiana seemed to get the unspoken message and nodded. She started to go, but Viviana turned and caught her. Tatiana looked at her curiously, then froze as Viviana laid a hand on her cheek, healing the injuries I'd dealt her during the fight. Viviana leaned in close and kissed her on the cheek.
"Go prepare for dinner, my love. We'll be there with you shortly," she said. Tatiana nodded, then took off with the rest of the shadows until we were the only ones standing in the massive room. The entire time I was shaking with fury, but couldn't move anymore than that. It only made me angrier that I couldn't move, that I couldn't scream in her face or break her teeth.
"You've caused quite a mess today," she said, making me narrow my eyes, "You beat Simon up quite brutally. You destroyed the property of my shadows. And you also severely hurt Tatiana. Would you care to explain yourself calmly or do you want to try and hit me again and we can stand here for eternity until you take a breath? What did I tell you before? Big deep breathes, sweetheart."
My god, that sounded condescending as fuck. I wanted to hit her for it. I wanted to watch her bleed. At the same time, she was giving me a chance to speak.
"First of all," I said through clenched teeth, "Simon was trying to fucking rape me. That was self-defense."
"He's an incubus. They require sexual intercourse as sustenance. Without it, he could die."
"Tell him to get it from a girlfriend."
"He can't. His wife was murdered in cold-blood on their wedding day by a jealous lover of his."
"Is that supposed to make me feel bad?"
"Hm? Oh, no, I just thought you wanted an explanation. Continue," Viviana said, waving her hand in a circle for me to go on. Glaring at her, I took a deep breath that hurt my lungs, because the whole sculptor thing was starting to burn my insides with an icy coldness. It did wonders in calming me down, though. The ice running through my veins doused the heat of my rage and I took a few more deep breathes, without realizing I was doing what Viviana had told me to do.
Now just thoroughly annoyed, I kept eye contact with her.
"Second of all," I continued heatedly, "I'm being kept in a place I don't want to be, against my will, because you have some personal grudge against Xiphrus. It does not involve me at all. You have no right to drag me into this. Neither does he. I'm sick of getting dragged into his messes. I have a perfectly happy life back in Hell without him, without any of this."
"And Tatiana?"
"She got in my way."
"Hm," Viviana murmured, reaching up to take her chin between her thumb and forefinger, stepping back and doing a little pacing thing in front of me that was driving me insane while I was stuck standing there, unable to move. In fact, the more I focused on this feeling of being unable to move, the more the panic was starting to return.
It was like my sleep paralysis. Being unable to move. Except it was in real life. I was in a real place with real dangers, and I really couldn't move.
"Let me see," Viviana said slowly as I fought the urge to hyperventilate, "You attacked Simon out of self-defense. I suppose I could let that go. It's understandable. I do not condone such behavior in my household. It's very vile. I will make sure Simon gets his meals elsewhere." Good, great, done, fantastic, now let me the fuck go.
"As for everything else, though," Viviana went on, making my body quiver as I fought to move some part of my body, "I'm afraid I cannot let you get away with that. You destroyed property and you hurt Tatiana for no other reason, then you are selfish and upset. You seem keen on judging others for not being able to control themselves, and yet here you are, having a temper tantrum like a child. I'm disappointed in you, Stanton. You may have the body of a grown male, but... Your mind is still that of a child."
"However, I cannot fault you for that either," she said, pausing in front of me, tilting her head, her expression becoming sad, "You had no one to raise you. No one to teach you. No one to show you the way the universe truly works."
Oh my gods, I couldn't talk now. I couldn't breath. I couldn't move.
"You need someone to love you and take care of you. Someone to teach you the true way of things."
I couldn't breath! My lungs ached and I parted my lips to try and take a breath in, but my lungs weren't working. It was like more than just my muscles weren't working. My insides had stopped working, not like they would when you died, but like someone had just frozen them in mid-movement, and the only thing that still worked were my nerves, the pain receptors in my brain, because horrible pain tore through me from my head to my toes.
Holy shit, I was going to die. I could feel it. I could feel it right down to the non-beat of my heart. All I could do was stand there, lips parted in a silent scream.
It was like all of my nightmares had come flooding back all at once.
"But I also can't let you get away with causing harm," Viviana murmured, looking at me, "Just a couple more minutes, Stanton."
She was doing this. She was doing this to me. She made it so I couldn't move. She made it so my body couldn't work. I was dead, but I wasn't. I could feel, I could think, I could hear. But I couldn't move. I couldn't breath. Gods, it was like suffocating slowly. Drowning. My throat was closed up, my lungs wouldn't work.
The worst part was the darkening at the edges of my vision. It was closing in slowly so I had tunnel vision, and at the end was Viviana. I scratched and crawled for some kind of control of myself, but my magic refused to work. It didn't even fizzle out this time. It just... It didn't even fucking turn on. My physical body was completely out of commission too.
I was trapped. I was stuck. I was alone.
The panic came flooding back. Fear and pain assaulted me and it was raw and fresh and bloody. I saw the images from my nightmares clear as day. I saw Xiphrus grab one of my sisters by the neck and snap it. I saw him rip my brothers' entrails out and kill a cousin with them. I watched him stalk through a battlefield soaked in blood, and he was coming right at me. His claws dripped with blood and his fangs were elongated like ivory daggers, the lightning flashing across the sky overhead giving him an eerie glow like some kind of horror film.
He stalked right up to me.
No. No, no, no.
I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't scream.
He grabbed a handful of my hair and wrenched my head back, his face blocking my view of anything so I was forced to smell the rotten meat on his breath, the blood that dripped out onto my face as he got in close.
"I'm not going to kill you," he sneered, his voice distorted by the beast, by the blood in his mouth, by his thick fangs, "I'm going to leave you here. You can stand here and watch, like the little bitch that you are. Look around you, Death, because there is nothing I cannot kill." He forced my head to look around and a scream built up in my throat.
My reapers. They were laying dead in the battlefield. Every last one of them, from Rita to Derrek, who wasn't even a reaper anymore. And with them lay every single person I'd ever reaped. But it was more than just their bodies laying there, it was their souls. Their souls were gone. They weren't in paradise, they weren't in their eternal resting. They were just... gone.
And as he forced my head around, I caught sight of the last person I wanted to see.
This time, my scream broke free. My throat burned raw as the scream rang in my ears, immediate blurring of my vision obscured the image of Alaric laying sprawled in the massacre, dead as a doornail, gone, soul and all.
No, no, no!
This is a dream!
This is a dream!
This isn't real! It can't be real!
My breath returned to me in great heaves as I choked on sobs that hurt my chest. My ears rang with the sound of my scream. My muscles felt like liquid and I collapsed to the floor on my side, curling up tight and clutching my knees to my chest. I couldn't stop the trembling, couldn't stop the violent tremors wracking me from head to toe. I was freezing icy cold, like I was naked in the snow, despite having clothes on and being in the warm castle.
Everything hurt.
I couldn't remember ever being in this kind of pain.
This kind of rancid fear. It burned my nose, stung my eyes, made my stomach churn violently, and suddenly everything from the day came up and I felt myself get rolled over so I was vomiting on the floor, retching until I had nothing, but choked dry heaves. I almost fell face first in my mess, except a pair of arms went around me. I had no idea whose arms they were and I didn't give a shit because they were warm and they were the first things that came toward me, so I latched on with everything I had, to make sure that this here was real and not the horrible fucking nightmare.
I felt someone petting my head, wiping at my face. I blinked rapidly, trying to suck in deep breathes, trying not to choke again. I felt something wet hit my face and I finally found the strength in me to tilt my head back, looking up into Viviana's face, watching diamond-like tears sliding from those black pits in her face, streaming down her cheeks and falling off onto my cheek.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse as she brushed her hand against my cheek, pausing to wipe her thumb beneath my eye, "I'm so, so sorry."
I didn't understand why she was apologizing. I didn't understand anything anymore.
All I knew was that I'd used the last of my strength to hold my head up, to stare up at her, and in the next second, my eyes were rolling back and I was passing out in her arms.