The Meridian Gamble (32 page)

Marion takes her father’s hand.

“It is time,” she says.

And it would seem we are not to
join the rest of the crowd. Marion leads him, as though he is a docile child,
and we all tag along behind her.

Our group moves in a different
direction from the rest of the guests, to the left, into the Bennett’s grand
dining room. And even in my state of shock from the bizarre events of the
evening, I cannot help but to take notice of the place. It is far bigger than
our own dining room, many times over. And I have never seen anything quite like
the long table that extends throughout the room. It seems capable of seating a
small army. And already, there is food set out for the guests; roast turkey and
pheasants, a suckling pig. There are heated platters that are covered, but I
can smell their delicious scents. And despite my dazed state, I feel a pang of
hunger, which seems almost cruel after what I have just witnessed.

We go to a door at the end of the
room, and enter a smaller dining room with a table that seats many less than
the larger one, perhaps 12 people. And there is a birthday cake with white
icing and pretty pink sugared flowers sitting on one end. Finally, this is
something that I find nice. I like nothing better than cake, even though it’s
not usually served before dinner, though clearly our hosts have their own way
of doing things. I am hoping we are to share it in a private celebration, so I
can hear their strange story in a gentle way.

But, unfortunately, things only get
worse. The Bennetts’ voices soon rise into argument, as the father begins
throwing a fit. He looks to his daughter with concern.

“Are you really going to do this,
Marion?”

“Do what? We are doing nothing!”

“Do you take me for a fool?”

“I take you as someone who wishes
to please me. Is that not the case?”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “But
…”

“Then come. Let us enjoy this
birthday treat.”

“No! I don’t want this! I don’t
want any any of it!”

“But it’s your favorite!”

“I said I don’t want it!”

“Suit yourself, then. But we must
carry on.”

She puts her hand on his face, and
James Bennett quiets, seemingly mesmerized. It is the same expression I have
seen on many faces this night.

“Are you really going to do this?”

“Of course, I’m going to do this.
An offering must be made to the Elders. It’s not as though they appear every
day. And it would be poor form not to feed them before the humans eat.”

“But they aren’t even here to enjoy
it.”

“It matters not if they care to
partake. An offering of one of the consorts must be made, and there aren’t many
to choose from. Unless you would have me sacrifice the girl.”

“She’s still too important to our
plans. And besides, she’s Roland’s Chosen One.”

“Oh, so that’s been decided?”

“Absolutely,” Roland says with a
smile in my direction. “I am quite in love with this one. She is very special.”

“And we’re going to do this in
front of her?”

“She may as well see it now, she’s
already seen enough on this night.”

“Well, then, be brave, sweet
Caroline,” Marion says. “Soon, you will know the joy in which we are about to
partake.”

The Bennett family’s conversation
is an odd one that does little to dispel my confusion. Apparently, I am
Roland’s “Chosen One.” I wonder if that means I am to be his wife, which we all
know. And what is this strange talk of sacrifices and elders and consorts? And
of delights I am to partake in? It all frightens me, and I am horrified to
think that something dark is about to happen in this room.

I begin to suspect that James
Bennett is not their father at all. But whatever their intentions, I cannot
help but to breathe a sigh of relief that they will inflict their dark magic on
him and not me.

He leans against the table, and I
am shocked, as Marion and the boys move him so he is lying down. James is as
complacent as a child. And the strangest thing happens. The children begin to
help him off with his jacket and shirt. They pull off his pants and shoes, and
I wonder for a moment if they are going to strip him naked. I have seen few
naked men in my life, and I am curious what his form will look like.

And my coldness toward the man who
is to be my father-in-law surprises me. I do not even think to try to help him.

He somehow rouses from the hypnotic
state they have put him in, and starts to beg Marion again.

“Please. You’ve said that you love
me.”

“I do love you. But you knew this
day would come. It was part of our agreement.”

“But …”

“Shh! You know you love the bite.
And this one will be a thousand times greater than any you have known before. I
promise.”

She gives him a long kiss, on the
lips. And I panic, because now I know my suspicions are correct, and something
is very wrong. Their affection is passionate in nature, and James seems to sink
into it, despite being upset. But no daughter should kiss her father this way.
It is unsettling to watch, but I cannot pull myself away from the spectacle
before me.

Marion turns his head to the side,
and she looks at me for a moment, and smiles. And I am stunned to see two of
her front teeth pop out, to look like drawings I have seen of the fangs of a
snake. She plunges them into his neck. The boys follow suit with fangs of their
own, biting into his arms.

I begin to panic, but Roland puts
his hands on my shoulders, holding me in place.

“My God, what are they doing?”

“Do not be afraid. It is simply
what we do.”

“But … why?”

“To survive. It is the gift that
keeps us alive forever. And it is one I will share with you, if you let me. You
will become strong, you will feel little pain, and you will never grow old. And
we will be able to love each other forever. You will never have to share the
worries of the common rabble again.”

They are demons. The Bennetts have
made a pact with the devil, and they are drinking the blood of their own
father. Or whoever the man is. And Roland is one of them. This is why he
constantly refers to our love lasting forever. Because he intends for me to
accept his dark gift.

“Wait here, and when we are
finished, I will answer all of your questions.”

Roland opens his mouth slowly, as
two of his own teeth pop out. And he turns away from me, and bites into a free
leg. And I watch, as James Bennett’s life is slowly drained away.

But the most grotesque aspect of
the scene is that he seems to enjoy it. As they kill him, James Bennett groans
with pleasure.

Though it would seem that the scene
could not possibly be more unnatural, the three strangers from the balcony
enter the room, nonchalantly, as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.
Which should not surprise me. If anyone else at the party were demons, it would
be them. And the Bennett children do not even look up from their murder to
acknowledge the visitors.

The woman with the red hair is the
only one who still wears her mask, and it surprises me that I wonder why. She
reaches out, and wipes a trickle of blood that streams from one of James
Bennett’s wounds. She puts the crimson fluid to her lips, and licks it away
with relish.

The fangs pop out of her mouth, and
she sinks them into his skin. The dark-haired man follows suit.

I shrink into a corner, hoping to
fade into the walls. But before he can bite James Bennett, the bald one turns
my way. He smiles, and I can see the jagged teeth in his mouth up close, which
remind me of stalactites and stalagmites hanging in a cave.

Without moving his lips, he speaks
to me.

“Hello, Caroline,” he says. And I
feel a shock go through my body that paralyzes me.

He knows me. This thing knows my
name.

It takes me a moment to realize he
is not really speaking at all. Instead, the words seem to project into my mind,
and I realize that this is how they do it. This is how they control the others,
with the demonic mental powers they have been granted.

The bald one bites into James
Bennett, and I am hoping he will forget about me. They have their faces buried
in his flesh, and I can hear the gutturals sounds they make as they devour him.

And an uncontrollable urge
overcomes me. I want to kill them all.

I do not care that I am complicit
with them in Philippa’s murder, or the promises I have made to Roland. Instead,
I look around the dining room for a weapon, anything I can use. But there is
not much here, and somehow, I think that a cake fork will not provide an ample
means to attack. To my horror, the bald one looks at me once more. And he nods
toward the slightly ajar door of the room, with a smile.

“Run,” he says, in my mind.

And I don’t need any more
permission than this. I quickly head for the open door, while the others are
too wrapped up in their meal to notice.

Luckily, the large dining room is
empty, save for a few servants preparing the place settings, and I quickly walk
past them. Like the demonic Bennetts, they don’t seem to notice me. I look over
my shoulder to see if I am being followed, but by some miracle, no one gives
chase.

And I know I only have moments.

I enter the large waiting room, as
the singer Marjorie was so impressed with performs another beautiful song. I
find my parents and sister at the edge of the crowd, listening to the melody as
intently as the Bennetts were focused on their meal. I pull at Mother’s
sleeves, whispering to her.

“Mother, please. Come with me, we
must hurry. Father …”

But they don’t move. It is more of
the demons’ magic, what they have done to James Bennett to control him, and to
the crowd around me, as they watched Philippa’s murder. No matter how I
struggle, no one in the room looks up. No one notices me over her song. I feel
like poor Philippa, screaming for help. And I panic. There isn’t time, so I
run.

The foyer is a blur, the front of
the mansion passes by in a haze, as I click down the steps. I am ridiculous,
trotting down the streets in my dress, but I know I only have moments before
they will discover me, and I must put as much distance between myself and the
house as possible. Even the streets of Coventry Park do not frighten me,
because the people who dwell here are at least still humans, if only
downtrodden ones. They are not monsters who are in league with the devil. But
as I get father away from the mansion, I see that the buildings are more
decrepit, and I wonder if there is one I can run into and hide.

A thought pops into my head, an odd
one; that if I can find the Luminos in this city I will be safe. But I’m not
even sure what that means.

A few blocks away, I turn into an
alley, and look back once more, to see if I am being followed. But there is
nothing. From its edge, I scan the streets to see if there is a carriage in
which I might make my escape, but I spy none. And as I back further down the
corridor, I begin to realize that I have made a terrible mistake. The streets
of Coventry Park are not so innocent after all.

I become aware of the fact that I
am not alone in this foul place. There is a small fire burning in a corner, and
a horrible smell comes from my surroundings. Two feral eyes glow at me from a
few feet away that belong to something that resembles a man. And he has two
more friends behind him, huddled by the fire.

“Oy, pretty, pretty. You’ve
wandered away from the pleasant crowd wit no others about. What brings you to
these parts?”

The man is filthy and bloated.
There is dirt on his face and food in his greying beard. And his breath smells
disgusting, like the Admiral’s toward the evening’s end at the Ball. But
perhaps a thousand times worse. And at least the Admiral has the courtesy to
bathe.

“Please. If you could help me get a
carriage to take me from this place, I would be eternally grateful. My family
would reward you quite handsomely.”

“Now, why would you want to go and
leave us like that? We ‘aven’t even had the chance to admire your pretty
jewels. And such a pretty girl wearing them. Come, sweet treat, sit wiff us a
while, and we’ll show you a good time.”

I clutch at the delicate strand of
pearls around my neck, and realize I will need to defend myself. But how? And
in a flash, the creature and his comrades lash out at me, pulling me down.

They try to drag me toward their
small fire. And for men who are supposedly hungry, they are surprisingly
strong. And I begin to regret leaving Roland. At least I would have enjoyed my
death, as James Bennett did.

But I am not so weak as they think.
I still have Saga and her skills to my advantage. I remember in my story, her
father teaching her to twist her arm a certain way to break an oppressor’s
grasp, and I can see the maneuver in my mind’s eye. I try it, and to my
surprise it works. My hand is suddenly free, and I use it to claw at the face
of my attacker.

“Aaaaah! You witch!”

But sadly, I am made pointedly
aware of the differences between Saga and myself, as the man backhands me. I
fall to the ground, stunned, as I have never been struck in this way before.
While Saga would have sprung back from such pain to fight, for me, all seems
lost. And the foul men begin to tear at my clothes.

As I am about to scream, a
commanding voice comes booming toward us from the opening of the alley.

“Let her go!”

And the filthy vermin look up.

“We’re not letting this one get
away,” the bloated man says. “Step off, sir. If you’re not wanting to be hurt.”

“You don’t understand. I am not
asking you to let her go. I am telling you.”

I think it must be Roland at first,
but it’s difficult to see from my position. One of the ruffians has his foot on
my chest in a most brusque manner. But I twist about somehow, and see that my
savior is not Roland at all. It is Adam.