Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
ORPHEUS
I loomed over her.
Every time I drew near to Ingrid, it was as though the world tilted subtly, imperceptibly, caught in the gravity of a face so achingly familiar it stirred the hollows of memory. Her beauty, delicate and devastating, shimmered like a half-remembered dream at the edge of waking.
All that aside, she was painfully useful.
Ingrid awoke with a start.
Taking in her surroundings, she reoriented herself.
She was alone. Ingrid checked her watch—1630 hours.
She had slept the day away, not surprising as the forensic course had left her haunted, each lesson a toll on her spirit.
Having reviewed the endless evidence of humanity’s darkest depths, she began to understand that peace is not a right, but a privilege, one she had forfeited the moment she chose to see too much.
But still, it exhausted her.
Stepping out of Jadeon’s bedroom, Ingrid called out his name.
On hearing nothing but an unearthly silence she headed off to look for him.
Walking to the top of the central stairway she paused for a moment, listening.
A noise caught her attention, rising up from the lower chambers.
Descending the stairs, she again passed by that familiar painting with its uncanny likeness to Jadeon and Alex.
She shuddered in response to the freezing breeze.
It felt as though someone had just opened a door.
She continued into the main foyer of the castle.
Hearing the noise again she walked in its direction, discovering a clandestine doorway leading down a dark, stone stairwell.
The light in the corridor dimmed. She descended and shivered.
She found it difficult to distinguish whether it was through the lowering of the castle’s temperature or her wariness. Goose bumps rose up on her skin.
“Hello?” she called out.
She continued down, arriving at yet another corridor leading to what appeared to be a long line of cells at the end of it.
Intrigued, she was keen to view the ancient prisons.
On approaching the bastilles she detected an unpleasant damp mustiness.
Peering in at each of the cells, all similar, Ingrid was enthralled.
Reaching the end of the hallway she touched the stone wall, running her fingers over its cold rough surface then turning, headed back the way she had come. She observed how it appeared even scarier at this end of the long passageway.
Ingrid reflected for a moment how frightened those imprisoned here must have felt. She glanced again into one of the cells, noticing the rusty shackles upon the wall. Fascinated, she entered the cell, eager to view them.
She examined the shackle. A noise of grating stone in the darkness startled her.
She froze. “Hello?” Ingrid listened. Only quietness now. Sensing a presence again, she called out. “Jadeon?”
“No,” I replied from the blackness.
“Alex?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on guys, please stop playing with me. I’m not enjoying this. This is so not funny.”
My tall silhouette loomed. “My name is Daumia, but my friends call me Orpheus.”
Ingrid’s eyes adjusted.
I peered between the bars. My gaze penetrated hers. She had a sense of familiarity with my regal stature and chiseled features.
My accent, with its deep unearthly resonance, increased her nervousness. Squinting, she studied me as shadows danced on my face.
Her squint trailing from the subtle gleam of my cufflinks to the ghost of my smile. Draped in custom Italian wool so dark it drank the light, with a velvet coat that kissed the floor. My bearing in the darkness whispered old money.
“Oh, hello,” she said. “I’m a guest of Jadeon’s. I was just having a look around.”
“My timing is usually impeccable.” I neared her. “But this time I’ve outdone myself, Ingrid.”
“Do I know you?”
“Perhaps,” I said.
She sensed danger.
I took another teasingly sinister step toward her and leaned against the doorframe of the cell, gauging her reaction.
“Please, if you don’t mind I would appreciate it if you would keep your distance,” she said.
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?”
“Jadeon!” she called out.
I retreated from the doorway.
Ingrid sighed with relief and watched me saunter back up the corridor and disappear.
She pounced forward, slamming the rusting door to the jail with an echoing clang, safely locking herself in and her dark assailant out.
Looking out into the passageway she scanned the empty corridor left, then right, and sighed with relief.
Shaken, she took a moment to catch her breath.
An eerie silence descended into the dusky chambers once again.
Her goose bumps returning, her heart racing, she sensed me behind her.
Ingrid spun round.
I smiled at her.
“How the hell. . . ?”
I took several steps forward and pushed her back against the hard bars of the jail cell. “Completely trapped, helpless, powerless, and humanly frail. Does that sound like anyone you know?” I clutched her wrists.
“So you’re a friend of Jadeon’s then?” Thinking quickly, Ingrid attempted to control the situation with some small talk.
“Don’t be boring, Ingrid. I was beginning to enjoy myself.”
Ingrid pushed at me. “I’m a police detective, and this is assault. If you don’t let me go right now, I’m going to arrest you. You’ll get two to three years in a prison much like this one.”
“Promises, promises.” I stared deeply into her eyes.
Ingrid froze, reluctant to anger me. She looked up, attempting to get a good look at my face.
She was struck at how my eyes fixed upon hers, making her feel a little light-headed, and wondered if this was due to her panic.
We were now breathing together, in unison, and she could feel my heart beating, my chest against hers.
“Surrender to me,” I whispered.
She could feel my breath against her face, my lips close to hers. Her breathing became rapid. Ingrid closed her eyes, swooning in response.
She felt my kiss upon her neck now, my teeth grazing her skin, my lips moving over hers.
Dismayed, she resigned to her desires, feeling my mouth hard against hers. Passion exploded, and she surrendered to my deep, sensuous kiss.
Our clashing of lips felt as decadent as it was cruel.
A kiss stolen, yes, but welcomed like a forbidden secret.
She yielded not out of weakness, but need, as if danger itself awakened her, unraveling her.
Our tongues colliding with desperate grace, sensuality ignited lust, a current of need surged between us, fevered, passing from her to me and back again, endlessly.
It was too much. Breathless, she tried to fathom her uncharacteristic response. As I nuzzled into Ingrid’s neck, her head fell backward and banged against the rough bars.
She staggered.
Regaining her footing, she blushed, her stare incredulous.
“It was quite wonderful to meet with you, Ingrid,” I said. “I hope to see you again very soon.” I opened the cell gate and disappeared.