Chronicles of Darkness: Shadows and Dust (39 page)

         In the meantime, the
hyena sniffled at the corpse of the proud lioness. She licked at the blood that
was dripping from the chest wound onto the grass, before she turned back to the
trembling cub.

         A phoenix came plummeting
from the sky and spread its wings protectively over the small lion.

         "You are safe
now," Sadden heard her own voice whisper and gazed into teary, fearful
eyes. Human eyes.

         The fog grew thick again,
robbing her of her sight and the image disappeared.

         Greatly concerned, Andrej
knelt beside Sadden's chair, patting the pale, clammy skin of her cheeks.
"Sadden? Sadden, can you hear me?"

         Her eyes flew open and
her glowing gaze pierced his.

         Startled, he retreated a
step. "Is everything alright, Sadden?" he inquired carefully

         The vampire was trying to
get her bearings. The sudden vision had taken her by surprise and she needed a
moment to collect her thoughts. Unshed tears gleamed in her eyes. "The
Sunlions." Sadden croaked in a shaky voice. Regarding her friend, one lone
tear trickled down her cheek. "Something horrible is about to
happen."

         Disregarding the cold and
completely lost in thought, Anatol trudged through the empty Ardeal. His arms
were wrapped around his hunched body. His eyes stared at the snowy path in
front of him. Anatol's breath formed little clouds in front of his blue lips.
Undecided, he stopped and looked at the tavern. His stomach clenched at the
thought of once again being the laughingstock.

         "You should have
kept it to yourself," a soft voice said next to him.

         His heart missed a beat.
Unwilling and tense, he turned his head. With sweaty palms, Anatol stumbled
backwards as recognition dawned on him. "
You?
"

         "Yes."

         "Do you want to kill
me?"

         "No."

         "I could shout for
help."

         "Yes, you
could."

         Anatol kept silent.
Bashfully, he glanced at her.

         She didn't look as
dangerous as in his nightmares. There were no flaming eyes, which he remembered
so vividly. In fact, there was a beautiful woman standing next to him. "Am
I the demon you described to the others?"

         The young man gasped,
frightened and unsure. "Who are you? It was you at the camp... and also
the strange guest that came to the tavern, wasn't it?"

         "I have chosen
you."

         "Chosen... me?"
Anatol felt shivers down his spine.

         "You are special.
Your heart is fiery."

         "I'm special? Trust
me, there is nothing special about me." Anatol pulled a face.

         "Never question my
opinion! You might not see it, but I do."

         "And what does it
mean... my heart is fiery?"

         "Believe me,"
Lilith replied, brushing her fingers across his cold cheek.

         At first he winced, but
eventually a feeling of confidence grew inside him. "What do you want from
me?"

         "I want to offer you
a deal."

         "A deal?"

         "I can make all your
wishes come true. How about we start with the one that's prominent in your
heart?"

         Shocked, he looked at
her.

         "Yes, I know about
Ljudmilla. I know that you observe her secretly. Your heart longs for
her." Lilith placed her hand on his chest.

         His heartbeat quickened.
Anatol stiffened and he felt heat rise inside his body. The thought that she
knew about his desires left him unsettled. "That's... that's not
true," he denied, his face flushing.

         "Oh, it is so very
true," Lilith corrected, smiling.

         The idea was weird, but
he admitted, "I've been in love with Ljudmilla for a long time. She never
showed me any consideration."

         "My poor
Anatol," Lilith sighed sympathetically. "I will not hurt you like
that, not in the heart. I could change her mind, if you want."

         "What would I have
to do for that?" he inquired hesitantly.

         "You will bond with
me." Lilith took his arm and rolled up the sleeve of his coat. Her
fingertips danced lightly over the sensitive skin of his lower arm. Pleasant
tingles erupted, coursing through his body.

         "And you will give
me your blood."

         "What?" Anatol
asked in a daze, enraptured by Lilith's passionate words. Sure of his decision,
he responded, "It will be by pleasure." Forgotten were fear and
nightmares, and the memories of the awful night at the wolf hunter's camp faded
into oblivion.

         "Splendid,"
Lilith whispered, lifted his arms and brushed her lips across it, caressing.

         Sighing, Anatol let her
proceed.

         She looked up and locked
eyes with him. "This will be our secret."

         The young man nodded
silently, fascinated by her gentle touches and spellbound by her voice.

         "I am your mistress.
Lilith."

         "Yes." He
sighed as the vampire bent over his arm and pierced the skin with her pointy
teeth. Moaning, he let it happen. Tingling sensations washed over him, while
she sucked the blood from his veins.

         After Lilith had enough,
she released his arm.

         Anatol felt dizzy and
strangely happy. "You... you are a vampire."

         "You know about
vampires?" Lilith asked a tad surprised.

         "Until tonight, I
thought them to be nothing more than a myth. Granny Ana told tales about the
likes of you, when we were children. I always thought those were just
stories."

         Lilith smiled and stroked
his cheek. "Now you know better, and you are no longer alone. Tell me when
you are ready to truly want Ljudmilla." With that words, the vampire
disappeared into the night.

         The tavern door creaked
open, revealing Mikahel, who stepped onto the street. The icy cold made him
tremble. Upon seeing Anatol standing there all alone, the blacksmith strode
towards him.

         The young man didn't seem
to notice him.

         Wrinkling his forehead,
Mikahel became aware of the happy expression on Anatol's features. "Come
on, lad," he said softly. "You can sleep at our house tonight."
He put an arm around Anatol's slim frame and guided him to his home.

*****

         Concealed by a
neighboring building, Kyrian stepped out of the shadows after Helena had
galloped off. He had eavesdropped on her earlier conversation with Skylar, and
so he knew where his mother wanted to go. "She didn't find Christine,
which means my fears didn't come true. I'm wondering what was written on the
piece of paper. Hopefully, I will find out about it soon," the young
hunter consoled himself. It angered him that he had overlooked this minor
detail earlier.

         Filled with juvenile
defiance, he walked to the palace to wait for his adored Christine. Before his
thoughts could turn back to his mother, Michel Dutroit, and all the other
things, he heard a dull sound from inside the run-down building. "Should
there be somebody in this house? Perhaps a vampire?"

         Quickly he loosened some
rotten boards and gained entry. He strained his ears, but the sound didn't
repeat. Cautiously he moved forward. The moonlight fell weakly through the
boards that were still nailed across the other windows. Kyrian could hardly
breath
e
because of the stale air that was
lying heavily in the rooms. As he reached the old staircase, he saw the warm
glow of candles shining from the second floor. His heart pounding wildly, he
climbed up the stairs. The rotten wood of the steps broke beneath his boots,
and he had to be careful not to fall down with the whole thing.

         Finally, the young hunter
had reached the floor and stood in front of the door where the light came from.
He glanced inside the room. The candlelight blinded him at first. After his
eyes had adjusted, he recognized the person on the bed and threw caution to the
wind. "Christine!" he cried and stormed into the room.

         Weak, the young woman
raised her head.

         Kyrian saw the tears
glistening on her pale cheeks. He lowered his body to the bed's edge and gently
wiped the tears away, trying to soothe the sobbing woman.

         Chalice lifted her bound
arms that had been stretched to the bed's head. The chains clanked with the
movement.

         Kyrian was shocked. He
didn't know what to make of the image in front of him.

         Chalice whimpered,
"This is the
Heart Taker's
work."

         The hunter paled and
stuttered, "D-did... d-did... he do... some-something to you?" His
fearful gaze darted all over her body, trying to find wounds or other signs of
violence.

         More tears fell as she
answered, "No, but he scared me to death. Oh, Kyrian! Please hold
me!" She writhed in the chains, until she sank back exhausted.

         Kyrian rose and looked
around. "How shall I free you?"

         "There, he placed
the key inside the small chest over there. He thought it amusing to leave the
key in my view, knowing I could never reach it on my own," Chalice
responded.

         "Pervert
swine!" the young man exclaimed in anger while he retrieved the key. His
fingers were trembling as he freed Chalice from the chains.

         Instantly she fell into
his arms and he calmed her, stroking her hair. She snuggled closer, holding on
tightly to his body.

         After a while, he asked
carefully, "Do you know something about his plans?"

         The young woman collected
her thoughts before she started to talk. "Well, he didn't say much in my
presence. I just heard that they said something about leaving Paris this
night... to go north." She pretended to think very hard, as if attempting to
remember something really important. "He mumbled something about... the
hunters are on my trail... they are near... we have to go..." From the
corner of her eye she watched him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

         "Oh," was the
only reaction of the surprised young man.

         "Do you know what he
meant?" she asked, looking deeply into his eyes.

         Kyrian returned the gaze.
He was just about to reveal everything to his beloved Christine, but then
answered, "No."

         Silence ruled until
Chalice pulled him down to her, onto the bed. Softly she breathed into his ear,
"Do you know that you are my savior, Kyrian Leosol? Without you, this
house would have become my grave."

         The young man was caught
in a trance as Chalice pulled his head down to rest upon her soft breasts, her fingers
running gently through his long, smooth hair. Her gaze wandered to the ceiling
and her innocent eyes became hard and cold. "I really mean that. Bound by
the heavy chains, I would have died in here."

         Abruptly, Kyrian rose and
supported himself on an elbow. The thumb of his other hand tenderly traced her
soft, rosy lips. "Stop talking like that, my beloved. It's over."

         "Yes, it's
over," she whispered. Her eyes grew distant, while her fingers trailed to
his vest and pulled it off him.

         Kyrian gave in, his eyes
never leaving hers.

         Tenderly Chalice pulled
the shirt from his pants and slid it over his head. His athletic, tanned body
became visible. Her slender fingers ran over his gleaming skin, touching
everywhere she could reach. Chalice sat up und began to open her corset.

         Ashamed, Kyrian looked
away. Blushing heavily, he tried to explain, "Uh... Christine... I... I
never have... before..."

         "Shhh... don't say a
word. Just let it happen." Light blonde hair fell across her bare
shoulders as she took off the corset.

         Kyrian's breathing grew
faster upon seeing her naked form for the first time.

         Chalice took his hands
and placed them on her pale skin, showing him how to caress. She lay back and
pulled him on top of her, kissing him passionately.

         Willingly, the
inexperienced young man let himself be guided by Chalice. She helped him to
take off his pants and removed her skirts. Their naked bodies touched and
pressed against each other in perfect harmony as they made love in the
flickering candlelight.

         Afterward, Kyrian fell
asleep next to Chalice, a smile gracing his features. His calm and gentle
breathing was soothing the young woman's soul, giving her a feeling of safety
she had missed for so long. Still, she couldn't give in to it. She freed
herself from his tender embrace and left the bed. Silent, Chalice put on her
clothes and headed out of the room, without looking back.

         At the door, she
hesitated, her fingers clawing at the wooden frame and a lone tear rolled down
her cheek. Her voice shaking, she whispered, "I think I could have truly
loved you."

*****

         The deceitful semblance
of peace lay on the castle. Only from Helen's bedroom came the flickering light
of a candle.

         Unable to fall asleep,
Skylar had tossed and turned for a long time. She had lit the candle, hoping
that after some reading she could finally find some rest. The girl reached for
the newspaper, which lay unread on top of her mother's nightstand. Her mouth
fell open as she saw the headline.

         The sound of crunching
pebbles drifted to her ears.