The illuminated, p.8
The Illuminated, page 8
I cast a glance toward Lucius and quickly looked away, his eyes holding hers in a way that seemed more sexual than a pornographic act itself.
“You look stunning, Áine,” she offered, but the words didn’t line up with her wild red aura. It was spitting like a wildfire, uncontrollable rage and jealousy lapping beneath the surface of her energy.
“Thank you,” I said. I put on my best I am not your enemy and want nothing to do with the King look, which clearly wasn’t working. I tried to take a step away, but with a flick of the wrist Lucius pulled me back.
Seriously? I forced into his mind as I grit my teeth and clutched the arm of the throne once more.
I want you close, he said, smiling as he rested his hand at his mouth, nodding as each of his favorite elites said a few words in greeting. He looked bored.
“It’s so good to see you,” Serena said to me as Abraham nodded in enthusiastic agreement. She wore a short, pastel pink and light green dress made of thick, floral material, similar to what I imagined someone would wear to the Kentucky Derby, while Abraham wore a matching, casual pink suit. They held hands, moving over to the side to speak to me directly.
“How are you doing?” Abraham asked. “Everything heal up nicely?”
I nodded. “Yes, and I want to thank you again for everything you did. You have such a beautiful gift.”
He beamed, his smile utterly contagious. He waved a hand. “Oh, well, you’re very kind. I would’ve done anything to help, of course.”
“And we just wanted to let you know that you’re welcome at our place, anytime,” Serena said, her voice as soothing as her genuine, light green aura. They were the most down-to-earth couple in the castle, and I was always grateful for the reprieve their energy offered.
“You’re very generous. Thank you,” I said.
Serena glanced around, brushing her blond hair behind her ear. “And we hope you know that we would’ve offered the same hospitality a thousand times over… before… you know.” She seemed unsure of herself, peering into my eyes in the hopes I understood her.
Before they knew about my power. Before Lucius had a sudden interest in me. Before rumors began to fly of my potential queenship.
I understood her completely. “Of course,” I assured her, because unlike Sebastian or any of the others, I knew she was telling the truth.
Abraham kissed the side of her head and twirled her away, and the look in their eyes as they looked at each other brought on the sudden urge to cry. Daelon had said they’d been handfasted—which was like a witchy marriage binding them for life. In this place, their love seemed nearly impossible. And yet it lived, like a flower blooming after a frost.
I let Daelon in.
Hey, I said tentatively, unable to glance toward him for fear Lucius would notice.
There you are, he answered, and the sound of his voice in my mind settled the raging waters of my power. I’m feeling the urge to steal you, run away, and never look back.
Likewise.
I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you. Nathaniel’s plan wasn’t a complete failure after all. Lucius is watching us constantly.
What can we do to convince him?
The trip to Paris will do the trick, he said, his tone suddenly bitter and sharp as it rang against my eardrums.
The sound of Renata’s voice cut the cord on our connection.
“Did we find that man?” she asked, her delicate features twisted in a kind of demure fear that annoyed me.
Lucius’s energy went ballistic for a moment at the event’s mention. “No, but we will. He failed, regardless.” He looked to me, and I nodded to back him up.
“Just a filthy energy vampire,” I said, but the words felt wrong as they left me.
“Oh, good,” she said, her tiny shoulders relaxing. She looked utterly incapable of thinking up any more words, staring down the length of my body before scurrying away.
Lucius suddenly twisted in his throne, looking past me and beckoning Daelon. Daelon bowed in answer then accepted Lucius’s whispered message with a nod and a tight smile. He then walked over to Renata, who had joined the others in a little circle.
“The poor thing. Some people are born lost sheep, in constant need of a strong shepherd. They can’t help it. It’s just their nature,” Lucius murmured to me, and my spine stiffened.
He watched me very carefully now, and I knew better than to react in any way other than a wrinkle of my nose. “Is that so?”
“Oh, yes. Those two were made for each other. Eventually, I might even allow them to be handfasted. Even though I consider the institution useless and archaic,” he said. “But I’m sure you’ve heard all about their relationship by now.”
“Not even a little,” I said, my tone level. That was the truth. The only thing Daelon had told me directly was that it was meaningless, and Renata was just someone he used to sleep with. There was clearly more, but a part of me refused to question it further. I didn’t want to know.
Lucius steepled his hands at his chin, and I could tell he was shielding his true disposition just as much as I was. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.
“He stopped having fun with anyone else, for over a year. Well, unless they played with others, together. Monogamy, I think they call it.” His lips curled in disgust as if disturbed by the mere thought. “It was really quite annoying. But it was also pleasant to see him happy and fulfilled. They played all sorts of fun games. He controlled everything about her, at all times. Their magnetism was mesmerizing to everyone in the castle.”
No. No, no, no. “Good for them,” I managed.
Lucius pouted his lips, inching closer. “Still difficult for you to hear?”
“Yes, because he’s a liar, and it’s nauseating,” I said, glaring into the side of Daelon’s head as he bent to whisper to Renata, his hand brushing her wrist.
I could feel Lucius’s pull like the beam of a UFO, sucking me up, up, and away. I let it in, feeling its lightning course through my own energy like electroshock therapy. It pushed my thoughts away so easily, scrambling them up like they were nothing but insignificant obstacles. It whispered calls for release, for the channeling of raw, ineffable power.
“Tell me, Áine. Did he ever tell you that you were the first one he was gentle with? The first one that meant something? It’s a nice line, you see. Submissives love to hear they’re special. It’s like a drug to them.”
And just like that, I lost my thin thread of control, and I felt an intensity burst forth into the open air. Because Daelon had said those things, word for freaking word. The sound of a loud crack jolted from the center of the room, a literal bright white strike of lightning touching down from the ceiling to the floor below, splitting open the tile and sending bits of stone flying. I looked up to see the painted ceiling had transformed into swirling, dark clouds. I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to reel my power back in.
Everything was still. All eyes turned toward us. The tense silence was soon broken by the sound of Lucius’s booming laughter.
“Carry on,” he said with a lazy wave of his hand. Conversation slowly took shape once more, hushed and nervous.
He stood to face me now, his eyes traveling the length of my body. My full skirt brushed against him as he leaned forward.
“Do you want to hurt him?”
“Yes.”
“Well, be my guest,” he dared. “Just don’t do anything irreversible.”
The whole huddle had turned toward us in confusion. I met Daelon’s eyes, squinted with curiosity, and I was unable to hide my rage. I knew Lucius wasn’t a reliable narrator of the stories he was feeding me. But still, at the very least, Daelon had misrepresented the truth about his relationship with Renata.
And I was soul-blisteringly angry.
“Well?” Lucius stood next to me now, his hand at my waist.
“I’m not you. I can’t just solve my every impulse with meaningless violence,” I said. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hurt him,” I added. The bitterness of my voice had to be convincing, because I meant every note of it.
“I’m sure we can dream up a way,” Lucius said, low to my ear. “Walk with me.”
I didn’t like his use of we. Not at all. But I took his arm in mine and we walked past the circle of witches in silence, without even a glance in their direction. Lucius just looked at me, and I to him, and I knew that our combined power was blinding. I could feel my own radiance, and I could feel the fear and admiration of all those in the room at the sight of Lucius’s golden crown. The collective envy and desire of the witches in the castle was more intoxicating than elixir.
We stepped out into the corridor, letting the heavy doors slam shut at our backs.
Lucius stared down at me, his lips curling into a foreboding smile. “I promised you a tour of the dungeons. Let’s visit our old friend Nathaniel.”
To enter the dungeons from the castle, we had to first descend to the first level. We entered an area I’d never before ventured in a completely separate wing from the gallery and Clarice’s studio. The hallways became darker and less maintained, devoid of the golden detail and changing artwork of the main corridors. By the time we’d reached the heavily guarded stairwell—shielded by three burly men with hardened faces and red uniforms—the air reeked of dampness and minerals.
Next, we descended a winding staircase made of slick stone, and after a slight slip I was forced to hold onto Lucius’s arm the rest of the way down. I could hear the thumping of my heart rattling off behind my eyes like a frenzied metronome, and soon a long, dark hallway stretched out before us. The walls were built of yellowish, musty stone now, and the small orbs of light above flickered to life in welcome as we passed.
“I sense your fear,” Lucius said, his deep voice suddenly more sinister than it had been at sea level. In fact, everything about him had shifted into the darkest, most nauseating parts of his energy. From its depths, I smelled the stench of death and heard painful cries for mercy. And, creepier still, I could taste the immensity of pleasure Lucius gained from all that pain.
It was impossible to merely transport in and out of the dungeons, for obvious reasons, but the darkness that loomed here made me want nothing more.
At the end of the long hallway lay an eerily still body of murky water, with a small boat chained to a hunk of protruding wood at the edge of the stone shore. The water seemed to stretch out forever in all directions, and the cavernous ceiling above was nearly impossible to see in the darkness. When something stirred somewhere in the distance, emitting a strange gasping sound followed by a splash, I refused to step any closer.
“Yeah, you know what, I’m good, actually. I understand the gist. Nathaniel was bad, and now he’s suffering. I really do not need to see—”
Lucius unchained the boat and turned back to me. “Get in the boat, Áine,” he commanded.
I crossed my arms indignantly but immediately dropped them when an unnatural, high-pitched wail erupted in the distance. My feet seemed permanently glued in place—an instinctual act of self-preservation. I returned my gaze to Lucius. “No. Take me back.”
“Fine, then,” he breathed. In a flash, he stood before me, ignoring my protests as he threw me over his shoulder like I was nothing.
I couldn’t fight him. I couldn’t reason with him. He carried me to the boat and with ease lowered me to a seat.
I couldn’t do a single thing but sit in the little boat with the man who now fully embodied the King of the Underworld as it slowly moved across the eerily still water. Fueled by magick, rowing was apparently unnecessary.
After sitting in a seat across from me, Lucius smiled as if he’d won this round. “You’re shaking. Where’s your strength, little witch?”
I glared at him, cursing my body for not being impervious to fear. I conjured a glowing orb of light, letting it float out into the space between us.
“Afraid of the dark?” he mocked. When he was met with silence, he let out an annoyed sigh. “Nothing can hurt you when you’re with me.”
If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought Lucius was attempting to comfort me. But considering he was my sadistic mortal enemy, probably not.
“Did you model this after the River Styx?” I wondered aloud. Out of all the possible ways Lucius could’ve fashioned his world, he chose the darkest possible timeline. What a waste—to gain the power of altering reality and use it to create this hellscape.
He shrugged. “Something like that.”
I guess that made me Persephone, if we were following Greek mythology. The unwilling Queen of Hades. I struggled to remember how the myth went.
I carry a torch through the darkness, for all who ask.
Hecate. Hecate ruled over the border between the mortal realm and the underworld, and she lit Persephone’s path back to freedom.
I jumped when something next to us moved beneath the water—something I could’ve sworn had glowing red eyes.
Lucius laughed. “His name is Gregory. I named him after my father.”
Because they’re both monsters? I guessed but didn’t dare say aloud.
My relief from making it to the other side of the hellish river was short-lived, as Lucius helped me from the boat and guided me to a tall black gate hammered into the stone. Two additional guards stood on either side, armed with swords that emitted dark, cursed magick.
“My King,” they each said, barely acknowledging me.
The gates swung open.
The smell hit me first. Followed shortly by the screams.
Chapter 8
Learning to control my clairsentience was a lot like learning to control my power. Teaching myself how to block out the intense emotions of others was crucial in the development my own sense of self and agency over my own feelings and aura. Without the ability to establish a boundary between my own energy and others’, I could easily lose myself. Which was fine at concerts or parties, where the pleasure of the room was intoxicating, alive, and thrilling. But not at funerals. Not in the wreckage of a tragedy or when danger lurked.
And certainly not in the pits of Hell.
I didn’t know how to block out the cyclone of visceral suffering that swarmed me like demonic locusts. I halted, but Lucius grabbed ahold of my arm and forced me forward. Rooms came into sight—rooms filled with grimy, broken witches. Row after row, these cells were crowded with dirty men and women trapped behind rusted metal bars. Some reached toward me, and some hurled insults. Some resembled animals gone rabid, foaming at the mouths with crazed eyes as they wrestled with invisible demons.
During our study abroad in Paris, Steph, Rena, and I had taken a tour of the catacombs—the cavernous underbelly of the city that was filled to the brink with row after row of skulls and bones all stacked on top of each other. This place was like that, but here the bones were covered with flesh, and they were screaming. They were clawing, gnashing, and crawling on top of each other.
I couldn’t block it out. The collective energy of these endless rows of tortured souls entered through my third eye and burrowed its way into my tightened chest and churning stomach, all the way to my very core.
“I can’t breathe,” I said, beginning to hyperventilate.
“Fuck you!” A feminine voice screamed, but I couldn’t look her way. I couldn’t witness this any longer. I kept my eyes forward, the desperate witches clawing, reaching, and yelling in my periphery.
“I hope your limbs get torn off one by one and fed to the Caorthannach!” A rugged, angry voice bellowed.
“Please, please!” another voice yelled. “Have you come to free us? I know you! Hey!”
The voices smacked into us like missiles, and the air was as thick as blood. I couldn’t get it into my lungs quick enough.
“You’re fine,” Lucius snapped, still dragging me forward, his hand now digging painfully into the side of my waist.
I gasped, touching my throat with a clammy hand as tears sprung to my eyes. I couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, which earned me a roll of the eyes from Lucius.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Quit being so theatrical. We’re almost there.” But he didn’t look annoyed. With the way his eyes were swimming with desire, his body relaxed, his lips turned up and slightly parted… he was in ecstasy.
The rows and rows of cells were endless, stretching out in multiple directions like a labyrinth. A guard pushed open a heavy door at the end a long stretch, and Lucius all but shoved me inside. The door slammed shut behind us, but it did little to block out the energy that was slowly making me lose my grip on sanity. I sucked in a breath, and the dark spots in my vision dissipated.
In the corner a man hugged his knees and rocked back and forth. He was mumbling words that didn’t sound like English, his tousled dirty blond hair glued to his head in a layer of grime and sweat. His face was swollen, bloody and bruised, his black clothes shredded. At the sight of us he crawled forward, and I took a quick step away, my back hitting the door.
Oh, Goddess.
Nathaniel.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Lucius asked, his lips curling. “To be rid of Nathaniel? For him to pay for what he did to you?”
My face was wet with tears as I studied what the man who wanted me dead had become—the man who violated me and bragged to all the guards about how high my energy got him. It took everything I had to stay upright and not sink into the floor, not to disappear into the earth and never come back. Lucius’s face was hazy as if we were underwater, and I could’ve sworn the walls around us were creeping closer.
“Please, my Lord, I will do anything,” Nathaniel begged, and I could feel that his once powerful dark energy had been snuffed out like a candle’s flame. His ankles were chained with a metal that felt spelled, just like the handcuffs the city official had put on Seraphina. They suppressed magick.
“Don’t you want to have a go at him?” Lucius asked, his features switching from amusement to anger at the drop of the dime as he glanced back at me. “What is wrong with you?”
