Chapter 26 #2
Bayard gets a hold of the knife. He flails wildly and catches Pepper with the blade, leaving a red streak across her chest. Blood pools along it, painting her apron in new colours.
The scent is too thick. Too strong.
Bayard lets out a victorious sound, then his arm lifts high, aiming for Pepper again. The world slows. Her eyes go wide as the blade approaches. Food and hunger and reds and—the sound of a head smashing against rock. The clatter of metal upon stone.
My hand is on his head. I push it against the wall again and again. I hear the cracking of his skull. But I don’t stop. It’s still too loud. I only want silence.
Begging. Blubbering. Sounds of air escaping lungs. Bright red blood streaks down the wall. Food and—finally, the sounds stop.
I let go, revolted. Bayard’s body crumples to the floor in a wet broken heap of bodily fluids and over-starched clothes. I feel soiled. Dirty.
Pepper’s breath is fast and short; mine, too slow. Not human. I look at her. Red curls frame her blood-splattered face.
Her apron is cut, a gash showing the wound behind it. But when she turns to me, there’s something new in her face. Calm. Peace.
The fear is gone now, replaced by fire and strength.
“I don’t know what came over myself,” she says, breathless.
“It needed to be done,” Lazarus says.
“Thank you.” She puts her hand on my shoulder. “I owe you my life.”
“I just wanted him to stop,” I say.
Her fingers feel warm even through the silk of the banyan.
“I didn’t know. I suspected, but when he said those words, my Olivia, I just… Something overcame me and—” She stops herself, and her hand slips.
“I understand,” Lazarus says softly.
“Are you okay?” I ask, pointing to her chest.
She looks down at it, removing the apron to get a better look. “I think I’ll be fine. It’s not as deep as it looks.”
I try to gauge the damage, but all I see are the lines running over her skin. Calling to me. I shake it off. I can resist.
Pepper looks at us both, then her gaze lingers on Lazarus, observing him intently.
“You aren’t human, are you?” she finally says.
Lazarus smiles at her. “I am, assuredly, something altogether different.”
Then she turns to me, and her smile widens. “And you! The change suits you,” she adds. “And I’m so happy you found someone. You looked so lonely before.”
I run my hand through my hair awkwardly. I have to focus. The stench is fading, but the scent of food is only getting stronger.
Lazarus offers Pepper a hand. The way he moves looks odd. Courtly. Like a knight.
“We shall lavish you with riches,” he says. “It is much too humble an offering, perhaps, but…”
“Oh, gosh. That’s way too generous. I feel much better n-now that I…I…” she stammers.
“I must insist,” he says.
“I should go; I’m filthy.” She wipes her hands over her clothes.
“I shall see to everything,” Lazarus adds and bows.
Pepper giggles a little and leaves the cellar.
“Will she be alright?” I ask.
“Yes, almenara.” He strokes my cheek slowly. “I sense her strength. And now, at last, she is free.”
But then. The scent. The noise. The begging.
“I saw the light go out in his eyes,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says, squeezing my hands.
“I feel…” I say, holding onto him tightly. I don’t know how to explain it.
“I feel it, too,” he says, wrapping me between his arms.
We stand like this for a long time. When we finally part, I see Lazarus’ shirt streaked crimson.
I look down at myself. I’m covered in coagulated blood. Lazarus hands me a cloth napkin. I notice delicate black work around the edges and wonder if he had done it himself. Then, I wipe Bayard’s blood all over the intricate lace.
“Here you are, getting filthy again,” he whispers, lips grazing my ears. It makes me shiver.
I remember those words. Had it only been a week? It seems like two lifetimes ago.
It has, almenara. Several lifetimes, he says into my mind.
I feel strange. Different. Better.
“Now you are a god among men, my beloved.” He puts a stray curl behind my ear.
With a smile on my lips, I pull Lazarus down. We kiss long and slow, as if there was no corpse at our feet, no stench of death or decay or the scent of food in the air. When I step back, I see blood streaks over his cheeks and along his jaw.
Together we ascend the cellar steps. When we get to the foyer I stop, still holding Lazarus’ hand.
“You said something the other day, and…well, I’ve been thinking about it and…” I start.
I close my eyes, suddenly feeling awkward. I take a deep breath and look at Lazarus.
“I want to see places. I want to…experience…new things,” I say quietly, almost scared of the admission.
He smiles down at me, his eyes turning crimson. “Like this?” he says, stroking a finger over my fangs. He leans down until he’s only a hair’s width apart from me. His cold breath tickles my jaw.
I want to live, I think as he kisses me deeply.
“As you wish,” he says, quietly. “Yet, I cannot help but observe…” He drops the robe from my shoulders, exposing my cold flesh. “You are utterly. And. Completely. Indecent,” he adds, each word followed by a kiss.
I shiver under his touch and nuzzle into his chest.
Then he lifts me over his shoulder, and I can’t help but laugh in surprise as he carries me up the stairs.
“More ardently than the world has yet to see,” he whispers, “we will live, my beloved. We will live.”