Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Quietness loomed in the deserted courtyard.
My tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth. I’d lost all sense of time. The scent of sweat mixed with blood permeated the air, and something else, too, something intoxicating.
“Do you choose life?” It was a woman’s voice, the sound like a soft purr.
She exuded that familiar fragrance, stirring remnants of a long-ago desire.
You’re not real. I sighed. At least I thought I did.
Sunaria stood close by, unchanged and flawless.
I struggled to breathe.
“I can offer you a life beyond this one. Say yes and I’ll bring you over.”
“I’m dying.”
“I can bring you back.”
A gnawing pain shot through me. I cried out.
“What is your choice?” she asked.
“Don’t leave…”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Life.”
She nuzzled in and I welcomed her softness, then came a sharp sting at my neck and the feel of her kissing me there.
Though weak, I strained against my bindings. “I can’t breathe.”
She pulled away. “It will feel worse,” she whispered, “before it feels better.”
I tried desperately to break free. Had to find my way out of here…find my way home.
Her wrist pressed firmly against my mouth, which opened wider to receive the warm taste of the finest claret. Even though I knew my actions were depraved and unspeakable, the arousing sweetness was too thirst-quenching to refuse. My dry tongue licked and suckled.
A boy again, full of excitement, climbing out my bedroom window. Near the far wall on the other side of the arena stood Roelle and Aaron, only this time I observed them with a man’s insight. Felipe’s rough hands nudged me into the bullring.
I choked on a sob.
Despite their covered faces, I knew it was them and recognized the cudgel that Felipe raised into the air.
It was a dying man’s realization – or something else, something shown to me by her, a mystical revelation of what had truly happened that night. My suffering dissipated and, with the wafting of her perfume, my torment crept shamefully away, like a nightmare that had done its worst.
“I have you now,” Sunaria said softly. “You’re safe.”
Transfiguring, I gazed skyward, as a pulsing surged along my arms and down through my thighs and calves, eliciting a thrilling vibration, a quickening of mind, body, and soul.
A sensuous imagining…
Sunaria astride me, rising and falling in a fantasy that seemed so real, guiding my imagination, luring me, and holding my gaze.
Dark locks spilling over naked shoulders almost concealing the curve of her breasts.
My hands found her small waist, directing our pace, controlling the rhythm.
Hard inside her, yearning for her, my body was drenched in a wet heat.
In all this time, I’d not once looked at another woman. Annabelle was my one true love who’d freed me from myself, the wife who waited for me even now.
Her chilling whisper lingered in the air. “Surrender.”
I desired nothing more than to hold onto this feeling, then realized that my restraints remained and my hands were still bound behind me and secured to the post, restricting me from moving.
Rocking together, sharing these erotic visions, exquisite pleasure carried us along. Sunaria mastered me, dominating every nuance of my body, mind and soul.
Spellbound, I exhaled for what felt like the first time, as I came inside her.
A feeling of solace replaced euphoria.
“Avoid daylight.” Sunaria’s voice sounded distant.
Shuddering, I passed through Death’s dark veil as she faded from sight, like a memory out of focus.
I awoke in the dark to find myself slumped against the post in a deserted courtyard, untied.
No sign of Sunaria.
Had she even been here?
My clothes were blood-soaked. I poked around my abdomen, searching for wounds that weren’t there. No pain. No scars. Just blood.
At my feet, a monstrous vision of a dead soldier, his skin pale and leathery, his mouth open in a silent scream. I looked away, all the while removing the knife from his belt. My vision was sharp, lines more defined, and despite the dark, colors appeared vibrant.
No time for madness.
A lump caught in my throat. Salvador’s body lay at the end of the courtyard. I had a strange memory of Ricardo’s sword tearing into me. I traced my tongue along the crimson smudges on my fingertips and headed into the house.
Searching Felipe’s desk, I found the warrant that transferred my estate into his name.
I held it over a lit candle, and it flared brightly and then disintegrated, but not before the flame burned my thumb.
I sucked on the burn, trying to cool it.
When I reexamined my hand, there was no redness and no blister.
I approached the painting of Belshazzar’s feast. With a rip, the canvas tore out of its frame.
Taking a moment, I studied the rich strokes of Belshazzar’s golden coat.
The portrait’s meaning: the writing was on the wall, obscurely highlighting the fact I should have known Felipe’s cruelty would find me again.
Felipe had lied about everything. I’d exposed not only myself to danger but also my family.
I returned to the courtyard and dug into the soil with my bare hands, carving out a hollow for the painting. Then I carefully rolled up the canvas, placed it inside, and covered it with earth, hiding it away until I could decide what to do with it.
For a moment, I considered searching for Ricardo, but my usual sensitivity eluded me. Recollecting the metal blade striking my spine sent a sliver of pain radiating up my back. Such a strike would be deadly.
I returned to Salvador.
In a trance-like state, I lifted his body and carried him through the desolate house, not surprised to find a dead guard lying at the front door. Stranger things had befallen me tonight.
I stepped over the body and disappeared into the night.
I was going to have to tell Alicia what had happened and break her heart – her one true love had died.
I, too, had lost my closest friend and it was unbearably heart-wrenching.
I found an abandoned shovel leaning up against a tilting grave.
The peacefulness of the churchyard was tranquil enough, but Salvador deserved better, an honorable tombstone to mark a life well-spent.
As I poured the last few handfuls of soil over him, I swore revenge.
My hands were filthy, and black dirt was engrained beneath my fingernails.
I wanted to wash it off, wash away this pain.
The thought of Salvador waking to find himself beneath layers of earth made me fling myself at his grave and begin to dig.
When I reached his cold hand, I groped for his wrist, fumbling for a pulse.
Misery, I know thee. I held his mottled palm, planting kisses there, smearing my lips with soil. Weeping, refusing to let him go, my cries echoed, releasing a wellspring of grief.
On the horizon, the glint of dawn approached, and an uncommon fear persuaded me to tuck Salvador’s hand back. A burning sensation crawled over my flesh as darkness faded, and an irrational terror gripped me at the sight of the impending daylight.
Searching for somewhere to shelter, I ran past row upon row of slanted gravestones, the names of the departed as worn away as their memories.
At the center of the cemetery, larger tombstones lined the pathway. The wealthy had a monopoly even in death.
Morbid inner ramblings that made no sense held my thoughts hostage, making it nearly impossible to think straight.
A burst of cold, dusty air hit me as I entered a neglected crypt. Wooden shutters blocked out some daylight, but not enough.
This place was hauntingly familiar – similar to the mausoleum I’d been trapped in as a boy. A sunray caught my hand and blisters bubbled. I flew into a panic as red welts tracked up my arm, stinging as they spread.
I shoved the stone lid aside and stared at the rotting casket inside. Reconsidering sharing space with a corpse, I glanced at the relentless sunbeams.
A hellish nightmare.
I leaped inside the coffin, lay down and slid back the stone.
A sudden drop in temperature helped me to focus.
Spitting up a sticky mass of cobwebs, I hacked the rest out, cringing at the thought of being trapped.
Leaning over, I heaved up stale blood and it trickled along the edge of the coffin. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve.
The dust settled. It was so uncomfortable that I considered climbing out, but the incessant stinging along my skin persuaded me otherwise. I could see even though there was no light. I tried to focus and struggled to find reason.
Trembling, I replayed the day’s events.
Miguel had once told me that shock could trick the mind into believing all sorts of things. Thoughts of seeing him and the boys again, and holding Annabelle, offered me some comfort.
By the time I awoke, things would be normal again – I would feel normal again.
I begged for sleep to find me.