The Meridian Gamble (33 page)

He moves quickly, almost faster
than my mind can process, wrenching the men off me. They fly through the air,
and I can hear the sickening sounds of their bones snapping against the walls.
A body bounces, and rolls near me, and I can see it is now a lifeless husk. And
as I manage to get up, I watch as one of the men picks himself up and runs
away.

Much kinder arms lift me.

I turn to face Adam, and stare into
his eyes. And for some reason, he does not scare me, despite what I have seen
him do to the men and James Bennett on this night.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of
here. It’s not safe for you here.”

“Please. Don’t take me back to that
place. It’s not safe for me there, either.”

Adam stops for a moment, with an
uncomfortable smile.

“And where do you want me to take
you?”

“Anywhere but here. Please, don’t
let them do this to me. Don’t let them change me.”

I am shaking so hard, I think that
I will die from the racing of my heart. And even though he is one of them, I
see a glimmer of hesitation in Adam’s eyes. He looks back over his shoulder,
and for a moment, I know he is thinking of helping me. But then, the big, black
carriage pulls up to the open mouth of the alley, and Roland steps out.

He approaches, and his eyes are
filled with concern. But Roland is the one who terrifies me now.

“Adam, thank you, but that is
enough. I’ll take care of her from here.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What I have to do.”

“You’re not going to bite her, are
you?”

“Of course, I’m going to bite her.
She is far too important for me to take chances.”

“She’s been through enough tonight.
Give her time to recover.”

“I would like nothing more than to
do that. But she’s more willful than I thought, and her mind is difficult to
control. I can barely pierce it, beyond influencing her emotions on a primitive
level. This will make her more … malleable.”

“I thought you were going to give
her the choice? That you would let it be her decision.”

And Roland smiles, wickedly.

“Let’s see what her choice is after
the bite.”

It stuns me that Roland speaks of
controlling me with his mind. But I realize now that I had been experiencing a
strange buzzing about my head when I was around him, and this must have been
it. And I fear now he plans to do something much worse.

“Are you going to kill me?” I ask.

And despite his cruel words, Roland
looks to me with just a bit a sadness in his eyes.

“No, I’m not going to kill you. I
am going to bite you. There’s a difference, which you will soon see.”

The fangs pop out of his mouth, and
before I can even react, he plunges them into my neck.

The pain is a horrific, at first.
But only for the whisper of a moment. And then, it magically transforms. I am
filled with the sweetest sensation imaginable. It is like paradise, or the way
I picture one would feel in Heaven. The alley no longer exists, Adam no longer
exists. Even my body no longer exists. I am melting away, like a pate of butter
placed on a hot cooking pan. Caroline, the young girl from the upper crust of
society no longer exists.

My skin burns with pleasure
wherever he touches me, where Roland’s arms hold me, through my clothes, and
most especially where his lips touch my neck, as they suck at my life’s
essence. It is the focal point of my joy, from which it radiates through my
whole body. All that exists is this feeling. It is similar to the sensations I
felt in my bed on the night I met Roland, times one thousand. And Roland … my
darling Roland. His beauty and love are the only things that matter to me now.
And I cannot imagine why I did not trust him before, or thought for a moment
that he had anything but my best interests in mind. I don’t understand why I
was ever afraid.

And I would like nothing better
than to stay on the filthy streets of Coventry Park forever, feeling this way.

Yet, I am dimly aware of Roland
withdrawing, which saddens me. I am weakened, and he lifts me up and carries me
into the carriage, as we leave Adam behind, with a sad look in his eyes. And as
I stare back at him, it seems odd that he would even be distressed, though his
expression gives me the briefest moment of hesitation.

We are inside the vehicle now,
which begins to move, and Roland stares down at me in a loving way, thrills me.

“Now do you see? That wasn’t so
bad.”

“No, not bad at all,” I say. And a
part of me hopes he might do it again.

“I am taking you home, where you
will be safe,” Roland says. “But your dress, I’m afraid it’s been ruined.”

“Oh, it is in poor shape,” I say,
staring at my gown. The fabric is torn, and there are large patches of dirt,
from when I tussled in the alley. “Mother will be quite cross.”

“It is an affront to your beauty,
one we must strip away,” Roland whispers.

And slowly, he begins to peel the
gown from my body, which I don’t resist. I welcome it, even though his actions
are quite improper. And he does something even more delicious than the bite,
which is to kiss me, sending shivers of excitement through my body. Roland
begins to unfasten his own shirt, and though it is wrong, I allow him to lie on
top of me, as the carriage journeys off into the night.

Because there
is nothing I hunger for more than his touch.

Roland.

The next morning when I wake, his
face is the first thing that I see, even though it is only a glowing vision in
my mind. He is all I can think of.

I am vaguely aware of him bringing
me home in the night, and carrying me to my room. And somewhere along the way I
passed out, before I could beg him to stay and share my bed.

Even now that he is gone, I still
feel the lingering effects of his delicious bite, and my body tingles with
happiness. I can see now why the Bennett’s father gave himself to them so
willingly, because even as they devoured him, it must have felt wonderful. I
would almost offer myself to do the same, if only to experience the joy Roland
gave me once more. And really, did James Bennett not have a good life? He was
older, and clearly they let him live out his years in wealth and contentment.
Is that such a horrible way to die, feeling the way that I do now? Is it not
better than passing of old age or sickness?

But my fate will not be that of
James Bennett, or even poor Philippa, because I am going to live forever.

Roland has said it, he wishes to
transform me into a creature like him. And what will that be like, to be
immortal? Will I drink the blood of others? Will he change Marjorie and the
rest of my family, so I will have them with me? But I think perhaps I won’t
want to share eternity with the others.

It gives me a small thrill to know
that I will be like my fiancée and the rest of his family, soon enough.

Yet, there were dark deeds
performed last night, like Philippa’s murder. Which seems like a miracle, in
its own way, as it will allow Marjorie her happiness. But I am dimly aware of
the violent nature in which she was dispatched, which does not seem right.

Then again, why should I care about
such unfortunate events? I have much nicer things to think of, such as my
marriage to Roland, which will be the event of the season. Perhaps I shall
allow him to buy me a white carriage, like the black one we rode in last night,
with real gold decorations running along its side. And I shall live in a life
of wealth and excess, as the rest of the Bennetts do.

I am surprised, as my reverie is
broken when the door to my room opens. Our maid Cecily enters, perhaps to lay
out my clothes. It is unusual that she would come in without knocking, but I am
so immersed in my thoughts of Roland it doesn’t seem to matter. But when she
sits at the corner of my bed, I rouse from my stupor. Her familiarity is
unwelcome, and if I am to rule a grand manor of my own, perhaps I should learn
to teach the servants their place.

“How dare you enter my room in this
way!” I bellow.

“Mademoiselle, what are you doing?”
she asks, with concern.

“What am I doing? Why, I am resting
in my bed, and you are interrupting me.”

“I saw that horrible man bring you
home in the middle of the night. What did he do to you?”

“How dare you speak about my fiancée
in that way!”

“He is not your fiancée at all. He
is a monster.”

And suddenly, the girl catches my
attention. She seems to shake me from the haze that has filled my mind, and I
sit higher up in the bed.

Cecily knows. She knows something
about Roland and his family’s true nature.

“Why would you say such a thing?”

“Has he bitten you?”

I am shocked that she knows about
the bite, and am afraid to answer. But she doesn’t wait for one. Cecily brushes
my hair back, and turns my head to one side.

The girl gasps in horror, as she
becomes aware of my shame.

“Oh, Mademoiselle. It may be too
late for you now. You should not have let him bite you. That is how they control
you. Your only hope now is to remember who you truly are. That you are of the
Luminos.”

“I am … luminous?”

“Luminos. You are special. Your
people are devoted to hunting down the monsters.”

Luminos. The word came to me last
night. And I suddenly realize that it is no coincidence. I know it, from my
story of Saga. The Luminos are the secret sect she was born in. Though I never
called them that myself in my stories, somehow I know that is their name. And
suddenly, my mind is able to quell the thoughts of Roland, enough to focus on
what Cecily says.

“Cecily, what do you know of my fiancée
and his family? And what are these Luminos people you are talking about? Are
you … one of them?”

“No, I am not. But they placed me
here in this house to watch out for you, when they realized the monsters were
interested in you and your family. And through watching you, they realized who
you were, that you are one of them.”

“They have been watching me? Roland
and his family have been interested in me? For how long?”

“Oh, Mademoiselle. They have done
this to you. They have manipulated your father, and given him loans to saddle
him with debt, through their agents. They wanted to weaken his company so that
he would need to arrange this marriage. And then they will destroy you all and
take over everything you have.”

And my heart sinks.

The girl gets up from the bed and
goes to my desk, taking out a sheet of paper and a pen. She begins drawing
something, but I don’t even care, because I am stunned. Roland has lied to me,
has tricked me and manipulated me. He is not my savior, he has done all of this
to me.

And the rage I feel burns inside of
me, almost as strongly as the feelings of pleasure he has given me, the ones
that even now make me want to find a way to forgive him. And perhaps I should.
Cecily is not a bright girl, she could have gotten it wrong. And how do I know
these Luminos people really want to help me at all? If there is one thing I
know for certain, it is that Roland wants to marry me, his love is no lie. And
the emotions that mix within me are confusing.

The girl comes back to my bed, and
shows me a crude drawing she has made. It is a circle with six triangles around
it that are meant to represent the sun. And I realize that I recognize this
too. This is a drawing from my story, one that was put on Saga’s wall, to
represent the hidden sect to which she belonged, a symbol of power. And it
frightens me, how much of what I thought was just a silly tale from my
imagination has suddenly come bleeding into my life.

“Look at this, and all your
questions will be answered. Focus on it. This is your only hope to break the
hold the vampires have on you. I will tell your mother that you are sick, so
that you may have some time alone.”

“But …”

“Only you can do this,
Mademoiselle. I cannot help you any more.”

And Cecily scurries away from me,
just as quickly as she entered my room. She leaves me staring at the picture.

It makes no sense. How can a
drawing unlock the secrets of a hidden cult of warriors? And yet, where exactly
are these secrets hidden? Because if they come from the story of Saga, then
they seem to be hiding in my mind.

Can this tale of Saga be something
more than just a story? Can her adventures have actually happened? And if
that’s so, how would I know of them?

I think to go get my pages and
reread them, to see if there is something that I have missed. But instead, I
look at the picture again. And it feels strange to me, as if I can sense its
power. And as I look at the lines she has drawn, they seem to almost sparkle and
glow, like the filaments of gold that were woven into Marion’s dress.

I strain my eyes, as a light seems
to shine from the edges of the sun, just like the real one in the sky. And as I
look at it, the center seems to glow and spring from the page, like a tunnel. A
tunnel made of white rays.

It happens, before I know what is
going on. When I let myself to go this strange force, I feel it pull we away.
And I scream, as I find myself spinning down the tunnel, being drawn to a place
far away.

I feel the cloth sack being pulled
from my head, the one that’s practically suffocating me, and I’m able to see
again, though just barely. I am in a room, a large one, some kind of small
arena, where I imagine warriors are made to fight. Wide doorways open to the
outside world, but it is night, and I cannot see much of what lies beyond them.

Steppes rise up all around me,
benches that are filled with people watching me, though it’s difficult to see
their faces. Torches are set on the arena floor, and their light blinds my
eyes, which are still adjusting. But what truly makes it difficult to see is
the glow that illuminates the bodies of the spectators, the radiance that emits
from all of the Luminos, which only their kind … our kind can see.