::CHAPTER 17::
With the outbreak of influenza in the church staff at St. Ann’s, Samuel had decided to go to his sister-church to lend a hand. Naturally, he needed me for transport because I couldn’t spare any of my men and St. Ann’s was miles away from the castle. Miles away from civilization on the whole.
Someone with an intelligence level so great that lesser beings such as myself saw their decision as utter retardation decided to build the church on a hill suitable for nothing more than a hermit convention – which by definition is a convention that is unlikely to exist. Only that highly intelligent person could see the merit in building a church that was so high up on an otherwise abandoned hill, that it was a wonder why there was anyone willing to trek up the bastard of a peak.
Looking around, I looked at the people seated in the pews. It was hard not to wonder if they too were on that level of intelligence that no one else would understand. Because surely there were other churches to go to. It was Italy. Home of the Vatican. Finding a Catholic Church to attend should be like finding a burger place in America.
No wonder they caught the influenza. It’s too cold up here for mortals. The humans are shivering like the rat-dogs people carry in purses. I was barely paying attention when I saw someone come over to Sam. He looked confused and took his cell from the person before heading to the back room.
Grabbing my things, I got up and left the place before going around to the back. There Samuel was talking rapidly into the phone. “What? When did you find out? No, I’m only just hearing about this. Don’t you think I would have told you? I…let me call you back,” Sam growled looking at me. I flashed him a smile and waved.
“You,” his nostrils flared. I don’t think I had ever seen him his angry.
“Have I been caught being bad?” I chuckled.
“You killed Giorgio.”
“Um…I’ve killed many people. You’ll have to refresh my mind. Who’s Giorgi—.”
“The town butcher,” he bit out, “Giorgio is the town butcher. He was a good friend of mine and an even better friend of Loki. Loki. You remember him, right? The one who’s bed you left the body in?”
“Ahh. Giorgio. Yes I remember. Nice guy. Offered me fifteen percent off on some sausage,” I stroked my chin, “Didn’t realize that he’d locked the door you see. Didn’t know I broke in. Thought I was a customer.”
“You just—,” Sam shook his head, “I literally have no words bad enough.”
“You are outside a church…of sorts,” I glanced up at the sham of a building, “Probably a good thing you can’t think of any. I doubt this thing can survive being hit by lightning.”
“I can’t even ask you to show remorse because you can’t,” he snapped frustration revealing itself in a tic in his face.
“If I could, I would. But alas, I cannot,” I gave a sigh for emphasis, “It is your fault you know.”
“How the hell,” he hissed, “is you cutting the heart out of a human being my fault?”
“Well I’m a proclaimed sociopath. It’s a condition. I was given my personality just as you were. I’m not entirely in charge of my actions,” I explained plucking lint from my pants, “But you have full control over your own. If you’d introduced me to your Bvendini friends like I had asked, I would have known who to avoid when I went on my uncontrollable homicide-a-thon.”
“You’re blaming me?”
“On the bright side, at least it wasn’t a family member. I imagine that would be tragic for you,” I made a face, “You really should have introduced me in retrospect. I could have filleted your great niece and not have known.”
“We,” Sam gritted out, “are leaving now. I don’t want to hear a word out of you for the entire ride or so help me.”
“Sure.”
“Thou shall not kill,” he repeated over and over marching down the hill with a crucifix swinging in his grasp.
There was no real car park on the hill so everyone had parked all over. It was a perilously steep walk – or trot in Sam’s case – down to get to our car. It was a shame his car was out of commission. We had to take one of mine up this weed-infested hilltop.
It would be nice to get home and sip on some warm A-Negative after today. Maybe I can get my hands on today’s paper and have my feet rubbed. I liked my feet rubbed. I should have them soaked first. Yes. Yes soaked feet and then a rub down.
“Do we have any bath salts at home?” I asked aloud.
“What?”
“Bath salts. Home. Do we have any?”
“You just…and you’re asking about…I…” he looked to the skies, “No talking. I told you that there was to be no talking.”
“No. You said no talking during the ride. Ride implying that we need to be driving and driving implying that we have to be in the car before the rule is enforced. We’re still walk—.”
“Just shut up.”
“I’m only letting you get away with this because you are – er – distraught I think. Or angry. Probably angry.”
Some of the beads on the crucifix broke and fell out of his grip before he began walking again. I’ll stop at the store and by some of the bath salts then. Can’t count on him in this mood of his. Irrational as he is, he might get the wrong kind. Probably come home with something pink and flowery.
It took over an hour to get home and Samuel was still pissed. I followed him into the castle but he went off upstairs. I made it there before him. Standing in his way I folded my arms.
“You have to forgive me eventually. Eternity is a long time to give me the silent treatment.”
“You really have no idea how furious I am, do you?”
“You honestly can’t still be angry.”
“You killed one of my best friends!”
“Yesterday. Get over it and let us go upstairs and play billiards or something.”
“I only just found out today. I’m allowed to be furious. And trust me you do not want to put a pool stick in my hands right now.”
“Fine. Brood away then. Will you be over it by tomorrow morning?”
“Alejo,” his eyes flashed, “Don’t ask me that again.”
He left before I could respond. As advisor he had those few privileges; calling me by my given name, leaving without my dismissal, showing his true emotions around me. It could be dreadfully inconvenient… obviously. He was my main source of entertainment most times. Without him to talk to I was bored.
After unpacking I took the newest member of my collection to the basement under the garage. I flipped on the lights and let out a long breath. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed seeing my hearts. Finding the perfect place for the new jar, I dusted the others and tidied up the space. I would allow no others in here and so a maid was out of the question. No one but me should get to see them.
“Only Alejo can take care of you, isn’t that right?” I stroked the glass curve of one. I felt a shiver run through me. It was answer enough. “Yes. I’ll care for you all. No one will look at you. No one will touch you. Only me.”
I was the sole person who knew that this basement existed because I’d created for the very reason I used it for. It was relaxing to sit in here for hours surrounded by the ones that mattered. I knew what my psychiatrist would say if I told him about my dream and its possible connection to my hearts. His analysis would all be in vain. He couldn’t humanize my situation with his guesses. I wouldn’t let him.
I was fifteen in the memory. It was a naïve fifteen year old’s idea that a heart transplant might equal defective emotions. He would think that I was collecting hearts in some childish attempt to get and keep emotions for myself. I could almost see the psychiatrist now, in his tweed jacket and the well pressed pants his mistress had prepared for the day.
Sociopath did not mean crazy. In spite of what I’d been made to think in my past life. There were crazy sociopaths, but then there were the perfectly sane ones like myself.
So what if I didn’t follow regular emotional wavelengths? Who was truly normal? Normal in one society could be odd in another. Who was to say that there wasn’t a society that valued strength and intellect more than building relationships? A place just for me. A place I can build from the ground up. A world of my own. A place where people took my word as gospel and would live and die on my word.
I looked around at the jars. That world would understand my hobby. They would be excited by it. Would feel privileged to be in my jars.
People who knew about my collection think I can’t control my urges. I laughed to myself. There was nothing that couldn’t be controlled. I would never allow myself to be ruled by anything I didn’t want ruling me. The urge to take hearts was simply me wanting something and taking it. Like a poor kid in a candy store. The kid might have the urge to steal candy every time he goes into the store but could just as easily ignore that urge. I gave into my urge because I wanted to. Samuel, Loki and my psychiatrist didn’t need to know that. They excused me once they thought I couldn’t help myself.
For a while, Samuel refused to say a word to me unless it was work related. This went on for days. Then weeks. When it was coming to a month, I was growing impatient. How long did a person need to grieve over a friend?
It had almost been one month. That was thirty days. Forty-three thousand, two hundred hours of grieving was impossible. No one could spend that entire period of time feeling the same emotion. That would be so tedious. I was sure he’d be over it soon enough.
Until then, I was busy. The takeover of the Torien armies was in effect. My men were there at the moment seizing what and who they could. They were ordered to grab the soldiers from camp and bring them to me. That was top priority.
While causing havoc they weren’t to destroy the city. It was like breaking a toy before you got to play with it. The immortal city was to be warned that if they contacted any other region and told a soul about my armies coming into their territory, we would return with all of our combined men and burn every brick, every tree, every man, woman, child and animal to ashes. The vastness of my army should ensure that they did not so much as consider telling a soul. The idea that more would be added to that number would make the smart cower. My brother would learn that too in time.
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{Third Person POV -Six Days Later}
Loki lay on his back wearing nothing but the sheet bunched at this hips. A smile played on his lips. This week had been a good one.
On Monday he’d gotten an international grant from several regions to begin working on a special project. Tuesday afternoon he’d received an award for Device of the Decade (Most Innovative). And then came Wednesday. Wednesday had ended with a surprising confession from the lips of a woman he’d spent the rest of that week learning. Her likes, dislikes. What made her laugh and what made her melt for him. What touched her and what got her furious. He found that he was having a surprisingly good time learning her.
He had cursed his blindness when she’d told him. How he hadn’t noticed his own feelings was a wonder. They had kept him awake so many times after all. There were days when he sat in his attic and was unable to work because she was not there. He would sit there trying to figure out why she was so important to how well he functioned and unable to think of a thing. Sometimes he couldn’t sketch without her cheerful presence in the room as she went on and on about classes and school. It didn’t occur to him then that he might have had feelings for her. But the moment she confessed her own it seemed so simple. So in his face. So damn obvious.
Ana shifted beside him. His eyes drifted over to the network of freckles splayed on her back. He’d made it his duty to press a kiss across each one with what Ana called ‘maddening patience’. Even now he found himself fascinated by the sun golden dots that had made themselves at home on otherwise flawless skin. Reaching over he brushed her hair from her face. The fair lashes were almost invisible against the sugar and cream of her complexion. He touched her cheek, awed by how someone so sweet had made it to his bed and not run screaming yet.
Her eyes blinked open in the lazy early morning light. Brilliant green met his and he made the conscious decision to ignore the fluttering. Immortals did not get fluttering. They weren’t weakened by human emotion. Never this badly. Intent on cancelling one feeling out with another, he opted for lust.
Rising up he tumbled a laughing Ana onto her back. She touched his lips, tracing the full curve of the lower one with appreciation in every millimeter she covered. Something deep in him cracked a little. Cracked for her. It told him something important. He couldn’t use lust to cancel out love. It couldn’t be done. Not with Ana.
They had known each other for too long. Their bond was far too strong and unbreakable. Their trust ran blood deep. She belonged to him and he treated her as one would treat their most valuable possession. Love was inevitable. He’d always known that he loved her and vice versa. But now it was no longer platonic.
He removed her finger from his mouth to replace it with a kiss that was unintentionally careful. She returned it gripping his shoulders as if to remind herself that this was real.
She saw the way he looked at her. It was different but not bad. It was like he’d never seen her before now. Not really.
Last night she’d come to him as usual and they’d talked for hours. She wasn’t sure when the mood had shifted, but one minute they were sharing a kiss and in the next minute they were on his bed with her naked and writhing in pleasure beneath him.
He’d been gentle as if she’d still had her virginity. As fierce as his gaze had been when they’d met hers, he’d put her first. It reversed the roles between them. For one night he’d made her the Master between them. The same trust she had in him during a feeding was the same she’d felt in the moment he’d entered her. Her body had welcomed him, ready and a little impatient after he’d all but sent her mad with his kisses. Loki’s fascination with her freckles might just be the death of her if she had to wait on him to kiss every inch of her again.
“No. No more sex. Not today,” she signed earning her a laugh from him, “I’m serious. I’m sore.” And it was true. As gentle as he’d tried his best to be, he was still immortal. He had a stamina she couldn’t match. And the man was bloody insatiable to make matters worse. She adored him in spite of it. As if to show him, she brushed a kiss to his cheek. The corners of his mouth kicked up and he was even more irresistible for it.
She got up and stretched and he let her leave his bed…unwillingly. He gave a sigh and lay back onto what had become ‘his’ side of his bed. “I’m going to go take a shower,” she signed putting on her dress from yesterday. He propped his head up on his palm and watched as she made to leave the room, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth.
It was only because of his heightened senses that he caught the scent before she had opened the door fully. The rot caught his attention and he was moving before he’d even noticed. “Shit!” the word slipped even as he dragged Ana back into the room and closed the door. Only he stood outside now. Ordinarily he would never use that kind of language in the presence of a woman, but the state of his hallways had shocked him. It would shock anyone.
Last week Loki had been furious to find that his brother had killed a close friend of his. If city laws had been followed Alejo would have been hauled back to Bvendini to answer for his crimes, but Loki did not trust the other man to be locked in a building with other people. He instead decided on passing judgment in the form of a clean execution.
Loki had sent his men to Alejo’s castle five days ago. The same men who had successfully executed the rest of their family. It had been so easy the first time that he knew that the men would succeed this time.
He had been wrong.
Six of his men were staring at him with the most petrified expressions. Even in death their eyes showed the horror of what they’d seen, what they’d been through, the dignity they’d been denied in their own execution. Whatever the method of death, Loki hoped that he never suffered the same fate.
These men were all top of the line soldiers. For their faces to be frozen in eternal terror, they must have seen something truly bad to break them. Loki’s hands balled into fists, nails cutting into his palms.
Six, tall spikes were driven into the ground of the hallway. They were lined off side by side so that the spikes created a barrier. You had to walk between the spikes to get out of the barrier. That in itself would not have been too bad if it weren’t for the six beheaded immortals staring at him. Their bodies were no where to be found. The spikes were running through their severed necks and through their heads to stick out on top.
The faces were all loose and drawn while their jaws hung slack. Blood marred their faces and under their chins. Loki could tell that the heads had been torn from their bodies. No weapon was used in the beheading. Because of that, he knew that these brave men had spent their last minutes begging for mercy that would never come.
This was a message and Loki got it loud and clear.
Alejo had come into his house undetected with six heads on spikes, left them outside the bedroom and not once had he entered his brother’s room. Loki was still alive. Ana was still alive. He had the perfect opportunity to kill him – kill them – but he did nothing. The only people he’d hurt were the ones who’d been at his house trying to assassinate him.
Alejo wanted Loki to see that he did not hurt him. He wanted to be clear that he could if he chose to and there was nothing Loki could do about it.
Loki knew his brother. Alejo would not send another person to do this job. He had too much pride for that. He had been here. He had done this personally. Six of Loki’s best men were dead in front of him.
It should have been impossible that Alejo had survived the ambush. But Alejo was no ordinary man with ordinary fears. He had no true concern for his own life. There would have been nothing keeping him from diving into the fight and slaughtering the people meant to hurt him. Because you could not teach an army bloodlust. Not the kind Alejo enjoyed daily. They didn’t stand a chance once he’d spotted them. Hell, Alejo was probably amused that he’d survived the same attack that the rest of his family had not.
The smell of decay made Loki clench his fists tighter, but what made his gorge rise was the empty way the eyes stared. Loki walked up to the one in the middle and peered at the note stapled to the corpse-head’s tongue.
It read: ‘These six begged for death and so they were granted it. I will send you the others when they do the same. Your Dearest, Loving & Most Merciful Brother —AMV.’
That message said something without actually saying it; this wasn’t over. Alejo wasn’t happy with Loki’s decision to have him taken out. It didn’t matter that Alejo had started this mess.
Calling ground floor security, he had them come up to clean the mess. It was with a reluctant mind that he returned to the bedroom.
Ana sat on a chair with her knees to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her eyes were wide and full of scars that would stay with her forever. Loki wished that she hadn’t had to see that. Humans lived short lives and rarely came face to face with that level of carnage. They didn’t cope so easily with it. Worse yet, she probably knew one or two of the soldiers who lived here in Bvendini with them. Even he had been shocked but he would get over it. She, not so much.
“Dried blood all over the spikes,” she signed, “Skin torn in two, head stripped off their bodies. Poor Lieutenant Andy.” Her head dropped between her knees. “He used to bring me plums from the market. I…I’ve never saw anything so monstrous.”
“I’m sure it was quick. Pain free.”
“Liar,” she wiped a wet cheek, “No one who’s depraved enough to show off a kill like that, would ever do it without causing a lot of pain. I fell for all of his lies. I feel so stupid.”
“You see Alejo?” he asked and saw her flinch at the name, “He’s good at fooling the people he wants to fool.”
“I told him about the UltraViolet Technology.”
“I know…” he gave a sigh, “I know.”
“What will he do if he can use the information?”
“We will deal with that later,” he took a seat beside her, “For now try to forget what you saw.”
“You want me to forget six decaying heads on spikes?”
“Yes. Find a way to distract yourself today. Do what you need to,” he said through clenched teeth, “I need to make a call.”
Loki went into another section of his room and shut the door behind him. The number was already being called. It didn’t take long before Loki saw his brother’s holographic face rise out of the cell.
“Alejo.”
“Brother, darling. How are you?” he beamed putting the phone to stand and opening his arms in a hugging gesture.
“You’ve not only murdered my closest friend, but six of my men?”
“Six of your men so far. I’ll return them all home in due time,” he fanned away my anger, “Anyways, it was all your fault for trying to kill me. I was simply defending myself.”
“Self defense? That’s your excuse? Is that the best you can do?”
“I don’t have to do any better. I have your men and that’s not going to change until they beg me to let them go,” he gave Loki a pitying look, “They don’t seem to like slumber parties much. I’ve been a good enough host. They’re just never pleased. All the screaming and attempted escapes. They’re awfully bad company.”
“Just stay out of my house.”
“Then stop trying to kill me.”
“Well don’t murder my friends.”
“I will try my best for my best is the best that I can do,” Alejo smiled that cold yet distant smile of his. The one that promised the worst.
“Behave yourself.”
“Has there ever been a time where I haven’t?”
“Every second of your life,” Loki said hanging up.
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Loki and Ana <3 Something about them I like. I'm not sure what it is yet.
Ohhh the plot is starting up soon. Eek! So excited. Finally some romance and awesomeness.
I want your feedback on this chapter in particular. There are some things that I'm willing to change for my planned plot but I want to hear what you think so far.
What do you think of Loki/Ana? What do you think of Ana in particular? Umm...how do you feel about Alejo falling for someone...legitimately I mean? Tell me what you think. It's important. Have your say while you can because after this, it's all in my hands...not always the best place ;)