Authors: Jennifer Cloud
Tags: #commune, #Dragonfly, #horror, #paranormal, #Magic Rising, #assassin, #Jennifer Cloud, #Damnation Books
“You’re not asking me to do chin-ups again, are you?”
He laughed and put his arm around her. “Hardly. You’re not a child anymore. It’s time you learned different lessons.” He reached with his free hand and grazed the bottom of her chin. “Softer lessons.”
Oh shit. This wasn’t going to end well.
She tried not to shiver, but with his arm around her, she couldn’t pull away. She endured the contact, the feeling of his smooth warm skin touching her face. Perhaps she’d cut his hand off for that. Probably not, but it’s what she wished she could do.
He looked at the bed, and smiled as if reliving some past victories or dreaming up a new adventure. Thankfully he motioned for Deirdre to sit on the small couch to the side. He sat across from her, a coffee table between them.
“What do you know about Tamara Haas?”
She looked at him, surprised. Maybe this meeting was nothing more than a means to gain information. “Will you share your information if I share mine?” Deirdre wouldn’t tell him the weather outside if she wasn’t going to get something out of it. Niam wasn’t worthy of pleasantries.
“Agreed. While we are in this room and this room alone, we will not fight, we will be civil, and we will be completely honest.”
“Agreed.”
They shook hands, as was the custom at Stone House. The implication was that nothing was more important than a person’s word. It was the only thing in Stone House that stayed consistent.
“Now, what do you know about Tamara Haas?”
Deirdre spoke honestly, as was the pact they’d just made. She went over the odd job she’d been assigned to and finished with this little girl named Lora who looked nothing like the blue-eyed blonde Tamara had been filmed putting on a plane for Europe.
“Now you tell me about Lora Shope.” Deirdre tried to look relaxed when all she wanted was to get out of this place.
“I know you don’t understand signs or legends, but there are those who believe in them completely. I don’t suppose you know a Mr. Colinster?” He paused but she didn’t like the way his eyes trailed over her body, or the humorous look on his face, like he had a secret.
“Not really, only that he is a relation of Tamara Haas. He might be associated with the original backers of Stone House. Beyond that, I have nothing definite.”
He leaned back in his chair, flashing a sexy grin despite the scaring on the edge of his lips. She now understood why women had thought he was sexy. A shadow of the man he used to be still clung giving him the air of power, grace, and intelligence.
“Mr. Colinster is a hard man. He started Stone House but quickly pulled his backing when he saw that our ranks included all races and sexes. There were some things that he couldn’t tolerate.”
“He didn’t want women here and no one of color?”
“No. He didn’t want women and men mixed. He thought their training should be kept separate unless they were fighting for a position. As for different races, he thought only Caucasians had any business training here. Anyway, his partner Sherman Dellington disagreed. Sherman was himself a quarter Mexican, although Colinster didn’t realize it at the time. He thought there was nothing wrong with using every available bit of manpower for their cause.”
Deirdre didn’t want the history lesson. This was taking too long and a growing sense of claustrophobia threatened to take hold in her mind. If she’d learned nothing else in Stone House, it was not to let a silly problem create fear when a real one stared you in the face.
“So they’re trying to kill Lora because she is mixed?” Deirdre tried to focus on the absurdity of killing a child because she had a good tan. At least that’s what Sabrine always related it to.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that. She can’t just be killed. Lora Shope has to be sacrificed. The legend says that a half child must die. Her death was to follow a great fire and result in a rebirth of power.”
A knock at the door interrupted their discussion. One of the waiters entered carrying a bottle of champagne and two small plates of food. Deirdre wondered how they’d brought in food when the town was so far away and the kitchen here nothing more than a spot on an old set of plans.
“Ah, thank you.”
He filled the two glasses, although Deirdre never asked. Her stomach clenched, mouth dry.
“I assure you nothing is poisoned.”
“Forgive me, but I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Sacrifices always did that to you.” He took another bite. “Pity really. You do have so much potential.”
Deirdre watched him enjoy his food as she tried to remember any old stories she could relate to what he was telling her. At Stone House, magic was earned. The powers that be gave more power only when it was deserved. The fastest way to deserve it was with sacrifice, hence the theme of their ceremonies, which more often than not revolved around magic and bloodletting and death.
“So you think by killing a mixed-race child you will gain more power?”
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
“Don’t tell me this is some tired attempt at world domination.”
“My dear, the world is controlled by a handful of powerful people in a handful of countries. It’s only their lack of cooperation that keeps anyone from absolute power.” He laughed and the sound frightened Deirdre. “The fire here. That only helped those who believed the sacrifice was necessary. This was the great fire. At least to us. Both houses are reforming and a rebirth of power is imminent. Now, it’s a race for who will earn that power.”
“Or who will commit murder first.”
“You can’t let go of that.”
“There are so many mixed-race children. Why would you pick her out of all of them?”
“She is connected to power. The right bloodline damned her.”
“I can’t imagine anyone wanting this or believing it.”
He shook his head, disapproving. “There were other signs of course. Nothing you would’ve noticed. Certain families gaining political power. Natural disasters. The news is ripe with signs for anyone looking for them.”
Niam continued telling her about the horrible legend of the half child and the need for her death. It included Colinster’s plans for infiltrating world organizations through the Bilderberg conferences. He had the connections to gain access to the world’s most powerful meeting of the minds, where leaders came to influence and be influenced without the ugliness of the media judging their words in quips and unregulated half truths. These were people poised to take control of some of the world’s most powerful governments, even an electoral candidate in the United States. The U.S. candidate didn’t have a good shot in the next election but all hopes were pinned on the following four years after his predecessor screwed things up, all with help from Colinster.
“They could make the Klan look like a social club. Colinster is more dangerous than a redneck with a gun. His suits make him look respectable, his money, and connections give him power. All he needs is to start another Stone House to build the manpower he requires. From there, the poor will get poorer, the social classes will divide on lines of race instead of only money. Things will become less interesting and many people will die.”
“Do you really think he can pull that off?” Deirdre had heard many world domination theories, mostly from paranoid actors. None of them were more than people wired on drugs, ranting to hear their own voice.
“It doesn’t matter if he can really pull it off. It’s the chaos he will create trying.” Niam rubbed his temples as if the stress were getting to him, although Deirdre had never really seen him stressed. “He may not gain world power, but he will cause a blood bath. I can’t let that happen.”
“That’s why Tamara went away. She didn’t like her father’s ideas and knew that one day he’d hurt Lora.”
“It’s also why she came back. She’s helping her father. The only mark against her is Lora. It’s the only unforgivable thing in her father’s eyes.” Niam seemed troubled at this.
“It’s horrible.” Deirdre shook her head. She had no idea why anyone would believe a legend probably made up by one of the leaders of Stone House.
“It wasn’t much of a stretch for Colinster or his followers. They are very devoted and it appears Tamara has grown to be also. I’m not sure if it is by her free will or something Colinster has done. He always held an array of dark talents. Either way she is a threat to the child.”
“What do you want with Lora? I can’t imagine you protecting anyone.”
“The legend has been around for a long time.” He ignored the question choosing a different tangent. “Several of us knew about Colinster’s granddaughter, but many were taking bets on what child would be sacrificed. Several of us thought that it would be you.” Niam laughed as if killing children were nothing more than tying one’s shoes. “That’s one of the reasons I pushed you so hard. I wanted you to survive.” His gaze grew distant. “I honestly was hard on you to help you. I swear.”
Deirdre thought a moment trying to ignore his comments. “What? I may not have known my father but I’m so white it’s pathetic. Why would I make a good sacrifice?”
Niam raised one eyebrow as he sipped his champagne. “There’s no reason to get into it. Let’s just say that skin color isn’t the only way someone can be a half child.” He downed the glass and refilled it, but didn’t elaborate. “Now to our business. I have a proposition for you.”
She wanted to ask more about her father, about her heritage. As a child, she’d never been permitted to even ask more than a passing question about the man who’d helped create her. Niam knew him or of him.
“Can you tell me about my father?” She leaned toward him, closing the distance. “I’ve always wanted to know.”
“Not now. We must handle things between us first.”
Niam’s smile looked sincere and since she could only imagine the worst ideas brought him glee. Deirdre grew worried. He didn’t reach for a weapon, only his food, nibbling and taking his time to continue.
“Well?” she pushed, not enjoying the mystery. “You’ve told me a great deal but I still don’t know why I’m here.”
“I want to bed you.”
Pure revulsion hit her core and nausea filled her. She knew the stories about him. His sexual exploits were that of legend, taking pride in the whip marks left on his women and the burns he used to brand them his property. This conversation was over and there was no reason to argue the point. Deirdre stood to leave.
“Where are you going?”
Deirdre glared at him, feeling the hate flood from her gaze to the creature on the chair. He was no man, only a demon that haunted her nightmares with promises of pain. No matter how hard she’d worked, nothing was good enough. Then there were his frequent death threats.
She didn’t want to be one of his naked whores, draped across the furniture like a decoration instead of a real person. Learning to love pain was never a taste she’d acquired and tolerating it so Niam could come was unacceptable.
“I’m going home. There’s no way I’m letting you touch me.”
The heavy door had a large wooden bar that had been upright, leaving the door unlocked but it fell at once, effectively blocking the door. No one had touched it. She only imagined that Niam had pulled it down through force of will and she swallowed hard.
“What’s the matter Deirdre?” He sneered, rolling her name like a word of seduction. “Are you still a virgin?” She heard him stand, walking slowly toward her. “I can break you in slowly. I’ve been known to be gentle when the circumstances were right. I can give pleasure.”
“I’m not a virgin. I bedded a man as soon as I got out just so I couldn’t be used as a virgin sacrifice for whatever had survived this place.” She spun around, finding him too close. “Get away from me.”
“Sex can be enjoyable. I think you should at least give me the night to prove it. You’re no child to be toughened for battle. You’re a woman. Let me treat you like one.”
He stayed close, blocking her against the locked door, and she reached for her sword. Part of her was afraid to kill, thinking some bit of her soul not tarnished by Stone House would die and she would become like the rest of the monsters who had resided here. The other really wanted to cut Niam in half and watch him squirm while he died.
“Listen, Deirdre. You have become a beautiful woman, a bit too feisty, but that can be worked out.” He licked his lips. “Haven’t you wondered what it would be like to be with me? You’ve seen women here, seen the enjoyment on their faces.” She looked at the floor, not wanting to see that face that had intimidated her for all those years. “Besides, our bedding would be an arrangement for the good of the whole.”
How many times had he used that crappy line? She’d heard better from greasy rejects in bars. Then again, if she hadn’t known Niam for what he really was instead of this well dressed deceiver, she might join the notches on his bedpost.
“There are people who must be stopped. I’m proposing that we join forces.” The smile on his face twisted in his perverted thoughts. “I want to breed with you. I want to fill your womb with my seed.”
His mouth came closer. She turned her head and felt his lips touch the soft flesh of her throat. He kissed her, trailed his mouth up her throat to her ear. For a brief moment, it felt good. The sensual moment took her by surprise.
“I can make you crave me. It will be wonderful.”