Of Blood and Smoke

Chapter 44

FORTY-FOUR

Della

When Josiah left, he disappeared as if he were a plume of smoke or an apparition. My head felt fuzzy, and it was as if I were in a dream, still sleeping. The things that were happening to me, I’d spent my whole life thinking they only happen in the movies.

It seemed as if I’d laid there for hours. When I got tired of rotting in bed, I got up and began to explore the room. The ensuite bathroom was a luxurious mass of marble, suitable for a castle or penthouse with a sunken tub, dual wash basins, and a doorless shower with rainfall showerheads. There was an entire wall of mirrors, heated towel racks, and cabinet after cabinet of gorgeous bath products, makeup, and other toiletries.

The bedroom was more like living quarters, with couches and a table, separated by a wall from the sleeping area. A large wooden wardrobe contained all sorts of clothing, as well as a dresser with lounge and sleeping wear, and an extensive assortment of undergarments.

The fabrics were exquisite, all satin, silk, soft cotton, and other fine materials that felt like butter against my skin. I chose leggings and a tunic-style shirt and brought them into the bathroom. Josiah had said not to drink the water, so I had some reservations about climbing into a basin full of potentially suspect liquid. I felt gross, and I didn’t know what else to do. As long as I didn’t drink my own bath water, I figured I should be all right.

After unscrewing and flipping countless bottle caps, I found an oil I wanted to scent the water with. There was no identifying script to tell me what the fragrance was, but I picked one I liked, filled the tub, and got in.

The script on the bottle was in English, but it didn’t tell me anything about the perfume and I couldn’t have described it if I tried. I leaned back in the tub, buoyed in the huge bin and surrounded by beautiful scents and soothing steam and shut my eyes.

“There you are, beautiful.”

My eyes snapped open, and water sloshed against the sides of the tub. Ezra stood, looming over me and wearing what looked like ceremonial robes. Politely, he kept his eyes on my face.

“You scared me,” I muttered, although I’m sure it was obvious to him.

Ezra snagged a fluffy towel from the wall and held it open. “You must get dressed for dinner. I trust you approve of your choices?”

Hesitating a moment, I stepped out, trying to shield my breasts with one arm and my lower body with the other. He stepped forward, trying to wrap the fabric around me but I grabbed it and tucked it around me. “Thank you, yes they’re pretty.”

The man didn’t even try to hide it when he suddenly looked me up and down slowly. It was all I could do to hide my revulsion. Finally, he said, “I will send someone to escort you at the appropriate hour. Do you have any dietary restrictions?”

The question felt like a test, after some of the things Josiah had said earlier about food and water. “No, I don’t. Thank you for asking.”

“I’ll give you space,” Ezra said. I gave him a small smile and he turned and left.

Based upon Ezra’s seemingly formal clothing, I changed what I’d picked out to wear to a dress—a long, black gown that fit me like a glove with shoes to match. I put on some of the provided makeup, concealing the circles below before painting on dark, smoky eyes. It occurred to me that I may be placing hidden enchantments on my skin if the makeup was infused with magicand I didn’t want tohelp these people do whatever it was they were trying to do to me. At this point, I didn’t have much choice; I was in completely foreign territory and the cosmetics were already on my skin.

Remaining stagnant wouldn’t help me, either. If I was going to stay alive, I needed to play my part and behave normally, take charge of whatever I could. People who were invited to dinner didn’t show up looking like they’d been dragged off a couch, they dressed up and made themselves presentable.

Sure enough, there was a knock on my door a little while later. Opening the door, I was greeted by a man in a uniform that looked faintly military style with its crisp collar and sharp edges. He escorted me from my room and down the hall before we crossed the entry area I’d been brought through when I’d arrived. Curious gazes skated over my skin, and I felt every single one. I could almost sense their questions.

Trying to take everything in, my gaze darted around, meeting stares and attempting to familiarize myself with the palace’s layout. My heels click-clacked against the stone flooring, the sound nearly lost beneath the murmuring, soft laughter, chit chat and electronic beeping of doors and devices. I marveled at the dichotomy of my surroundings.

Lucite computer screens with colors streaming up and down contrasted with the battle-axes, shields, and swords mounted on the walls. It was both futuristic, and not, though the differences weren’t uncomfortable. Somehow, it all flowed together when it shouldn’t have.

For the sake of conversation, I asked my guide, “Were those weapons ever used?”

“Yes, they were,” was the only insight I received from the man.

We took a turn and began down another hallway. The walls were formed of large, gray bricks with paintings and other artwork tacked to them. As I looked at everything around me, taking it all in, my thoughts wandered to Josiah. How was he going to get me out of here?

Nothing overly threatening had happened to me so far, other than being put to sleep artificially. It wasn’t that bad being in the suspended dream-state, it was more like a relaxing vacation than anything else. There was no way these people would keep me here; I was a regular person with no magic or supernatural DNA. They would let me go; I couldn’t believe what Josiah said about humans not leaving or I’d lose all hope.

I was a boring, ordinary human. Not a threat.

The doors were opened to a grand hall with artifact-lined walls and in the center, a long table with chairs. A throne sat at one end of the room, on a short dais, with red liquid running down the wall behind it. It could’ve been dyed water, but I highly doubted that was the case.

To add to the grim ambiance, the faint orange fog or mist I’d noticed outside clung to the far corners of the vast ceiling. The hall was both beautiful and foreboding at the same time, with a deep, dark current of decadence permeating the decor and design.

The dining table was a shiny wood glinting underneath huge chandeliers that appeared to be a mixture of bronze and oak. Candelabras dotted the surface, entwined with garlands of greenery and sparkling golden-toned flowers interspersed with white blossoms. The air was heavily fragranced with a strong, sweet floral scent coupled with what may have been grapes. The fruity smell was unexpected, and I looked around for the source until I spotted rich, purple clusters overflowing gilded bowls.

In the very center of the table, there was a wide open empty space to make room for the food that would be brought out. The guard who had escorted me led me to a chair as other diners began trickling into the room.

“Della, our beautiful, honored guest of the evening,” Ezra purred, walking up to me.

Taking a step back, I gave him a smile and said, “Thank you for having me.”

“It is quite an honor.” Ezra reached toward me again, and I avoided him by seating myself. Once I was situated, I flashed him a huge grin then straightened my gown over my knees.

More guests started gathering around the table, picking places to sit and enjoy the evening meal. Men sat on either side of me, though I’d been hoping for at least one woman. My hands remained in my lap in an effort not to fidget.

Ezra finally moved away, and I spotted him speaking with what I assumed were servants or waiters before he took his seat at the head of the table.

“I bet the food here is good,” I said to the man sitting beside me.

His gaze flicked to my face before it began to skate over my body. “It always is,” he said, his eyes glowing a faint orange tint.

He didn’t seem to want to say anything else and just stared at me, so I looked away. A hand gripped my thigh from the other side, and I whipped my head around. This man was biting his lip and he then clasped me tighter.

“Let go,” I complained, keeping my voice politely low. I attempted to pry his fingers away, but he wouldn’t relent.

Glancing at Ezra, I tried to silently plead for help, hoping he’d catch on to my distress. He didn’t seem to notice the struggle, and no one else noticed either, when my arm jarred the table as I tried to fight the man off. My eyes then sought Jude, the man who’d brought me to the place to begin with, but he was nowhere to be seen.

I had no allies here and I knew it was ridiculous to look to anyone present for assistance, but I was out of options. Josiah had said to blend in and wait for him, but I had no idea how I was going to do that. What if the man touching my leg was putting a spell on me or something? There was no way to tell.

The man started gently massaging my leg and I relaxed slightly, thankful for small mercies. He kept his hand in one spot and didn’t try to take it any further. As long as this uncomfortable situation stayed exactly as it was, I could deal with it and bide my time.

Mentally, I berated myself for not taking things more seriously before it came to this. I’d been confident in my security and safety, and I’d treated my relationship with Josiah as if everything was relatively normal—despite the things I’d seen. If I could’ve gone back in time, I would’ve started reading everything I could on vampires, demons, and the occult. I’d done none of that.

This wasn’t to say that Josiah hadn’t told me some things—of course he did. The problem was I’d been too focused on my dad, settling into my new place, navigating a hostile work environment, and just enjoying my new life and its perks. I’d left everything in my boyfriend’s hands.

I’d had a one-track mind—survival—for so long that I dove headfirst into just living. As much as I’d tried to keep total control over my life, I’d failed at some of the things that really mattered. I’d handed over my fate when it was convenient. First to Brett, and now to Josiah.

The Second Realm Josiah had told me about had seemed like a distant fantasy, not like anything I’d have to deal with any time soon. I should’ve done my homework.

Ezra began speaking, interrupting my racing thoughts. “Dearly beloved, tonight we’ve been lovingly honored with the presence of a special dinner guest. May I present, Della DuBois.”

He held his hand out, making a sweeping gesture toward me, and the pressure of a hundred eyes fell on me. Smiling lightly, I bowed my head and then looked at Ezra. “Thank you for having me,” I said.

“Are we ready for the main course?” Ezra asked the table. There was low murmuring and then he said, “Pour the wine.”

Servants stepped forward and began filling our crystal glasses with a red liquor. Peering across the tabletop, I searched for water bottles or any liquid other than alcohol, preferably in a sealed container, but didn’t spot anything I could classify as safe.

Expecting serving dishes to appear any moment, I glanced at the doors hopefully while my stomach growled in anticipation. Glancing at my full glass, I considered sipping some. Would it taste different than the drinks back home? Wrapping my hand around it, I pulled it closer and sniffed it, like I could tell if it was poisoned. As I huffed a laugh under my breath, the chairs on either side of me skidded backward and the men stood up. Momentarily distracted from my perusal of the drink in my hand, I tried to watch them.

As my gaze flicked back and forth, the men smiled before my chair shot back forcing me to grip the edge of the table. The men grabbed me by my upper arms, and I was yanked up.

A third man appeared in front of me, waving his hand in my face. Before I could fully comprehend what was happening, I was lifted into the air and placed on the center of the table, right where I’d thought the food would go.

The only thing I could move was my head. My hair was caught in some grape clusters, and I could feel strands of ivy rubbing against my legs, tickling me through my dress. My shoes were on the table and besides panicking over my predicament, the thought of how this was completely unsanitary crossed my mind. After a moment, I calmed down and became fixated on the lighting fixture overhead, the gleaming gold and dangling crystals, the sparkle of the light and the granite of the ceiling.

This isn’t so bad, it’s actually kinda funny. I’m lying in the middle of a dinner table.

My body began to relax further and further until it sent me into an almost sleep-like state. Voices weaved in and out around me, lulling me with a coating of comfort. I was adrift, floating in a sea of feathers and cotton, peaceful.

“Does she know?”

“This isn’t going to do what you want it to do.”

“When are we going to eat?”

The voices around me chattered, coming into focus and then dropping out.

“As much as I’m ready to indulge, this feels very rushed.”

“If we do this, he won’t bend. You have to know that.”

He.

The one word started to bring me back and the fog began to clear. Josiah. Where was he? Why am I on a table?

My head twisted back and forth, watching the figures around me speaking for a few moments before I asked, “Why am I on the table?” I’d forgotten I couldn’t move and began fighting the invisible restraints again.

There was one night with Josiah, before we were together as a couple, when I’d broken free of his hold on me and tore off the invisible chains. I couldn’t remember how I’d done it.

Tilting my head back and then forward, I could see no one was really looking at me. Everyone was too busy debating my fate. It’d taken several seconds but I realized dinner was supposed to be me, and a few people weren’t so sure that was the greatest idea.

I had to agree with their assessment.

Somehow, I’d once gotten myself free from Josiah and now I was in a magical realm. It should be even easier to get out of this, if I was in the place of its origin. Plus, I had some practice. Right?

Josiah had told me I had natural guards, some type of barrier that blocked out the things he could detect and see because of what he was. Now, I was in his territory so shouldn’t I be able to see those things myself, make use of them?

You have no magic, Della .

Redoubling my efforts, I told myself to break free, that there was no reason I should be stuck to a table. Magic or no magic, I was strong enough to do this. My mind started to clear of the sedative sensation that kept tempting me to give in to its allure and just let go. As if someone had wiped the steam off a bathroom mirror, clarity hit me, the rest of the magical tranquilizer was gone, and I rolled off the table in a panic.