Beguiled (Book 2 Immortal Essence series) Page 3

  “And?” I asked, trying to keep hold of my patience. What was his problem? Why did he feel the need to be so evasive? “Look, whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I just wish Zaren—”

  His features hardened. Standing, he pulled me up with him.

  “Let’s go.” He grabbed my elbow.

  I ripped it from his grasp and stomped on his booted foot with my heel.

  “Knock it off, Michael. I’m not your prisoner.”

  His eyebrows rose in question, though he didn’t say anything.

  “Yeah, I’m not a weakling on another planet anymore. Kelari is my home. I am a kelvieri and the Princess of Alayeah. Tell me what’s going on right this second, or I’ll kick your ass back to Earth.”

  Michael’s lips quivered, the right side rose, as though he were trying not to laugh, but found it difficult to succeed. “Admit it’s a great looking ass though. Right?”

  “Michael!”

  “Not even a ‘thank you’ for saving your life from that gigantic—what was it? It reminded me of a great white shark, only much bigger.” He muttered as he spoke, rubbing his fingers through his wet hair, sending wet droplets raining onto my face.

  “Sharire,” I said matter-of-factly.

  He gave me a curious look.

  I sighed. “It’s called a Shar. Ear.” I pulled my braid around and twisted water from the ends. “And, thank you,” I added with a sneer.

  “It was nothing,” he replied, lifting his shirt to adjust his pants, giving me a delicious view of his tanned, too toned abs.

  Catching me staring, he continued, “No need to be kicking my gorgeous ass. I’ll show you what’s going on. Come on.” He gave a flourishing bow. “Up those stairs.”

  The “stairs” appeared out of nowhere and were nothing more than well-placed rocks. I hesitated, and then placed one foot in front of the other.

  We walked a few steps in silence. I had too many questions for him to keep quiet for long. Finally I said, “What did you do with Ith and Aetha?” I’d never heard of anyone spending long periods of time with the gods. Usually, the only time kelarians saw them was when they made their journey to become a kelvieri. The gods changed them. They left. Not even our shaman spent time with them. And he was supposed to have a direct link.

  Michael cleared his throat. “First, they showed me Kelari. It was awesome to see your world.” His voice turned gruff when he said, ‘your,’ and my stomach tightened. “The land, the mountains, seas, streams, the elements, and the animals, are all similar to Earth, but Kelari has so much more. Like the sharire, that thing was massive.”

  I snorted. “Yeah.”

  He lightly touched my hip and I stopped. The stairs didn’t have a handrail so the rocks were precarious. Adjusting my feet, I glanced over the edge as I turned. We’d climbed at least fifteen feet. The blue water below was still, glassy. I pressed my back against the rock wall, berating myself for stopping, but feeling the need to see Michael’s face.

  “Your city above the clouds. Nimbus, right?”

  I nodded.

  He shook his head. “Amazing.” Awe swallowed his words, and I hated to admit my heart melted. It made me happy to know Michael liked my planet.

  “Did you see any trycarciuss?” While I’d been a captive in his father’s, Frank’s, alien-testing facility, I explained our cars to Michael. Told him they were way better than Earth’s.

  “I did. And, I can’t believe you think they’re cooler than the one’s from Earth.”

  “Hello, they fly,” I said. That feat alone made them cooler. In my opinion, anyway.

  “True, but they aren’t meaty. They’ve got no muscle.”

  I had to grudgingly agree. His reasons were the same reasons I loved cars from Earth.

  “What else? Taking a tour of Kelari couldn’t have been the only reason you stayed with Ith and Aetha.” I started up the stairs.

  He cleared his throat. “They told me why I’m on Kelari. What my purpose is. And why they need me.”

  “They need you? For what?” A nervous pang dug at my heart. Did it have to do with me? I feared I already knew the answer. Michael didn’t respond so I asked another question. “If they need you, or whatever, why didn’t they just swoop down to Earth and bring you back themselves?”

  Michael waited until we reached the wooden door at the top of the stairs. He said, “They would have, eventually. But they said the turn of events. You being exiled to Earth, was better. You found me, and we connected—” He gently poked a finger into my stomach. “They said it was better for both of us this way.”

  My heart raced at the memories his words produced. The way I’d felt in Michael’s arms, kissing him. I swallowed, mentally pushing them away. “It would have been a whole lot less painful for me if they’d just dragged your sorry butt to Kelari.” Sadness clutched my heart. “Maybe my parents wouldn’t be in Helker.”

  He turned his gaze to the floor, away from my questioning eyes.

  4. Losing My Religion

  Several moments later, Michael still hadn’t said anything. Talk about awkward. Frustrated, I asked, “Should I knock?”

  My words seemed to snap him out of it. He smirked. Then his face got serious. “I need to explain some things to you.”

  “What? You’re a merman in disguise?” I was dripping wet, and though I wasn’t cold, I was uncomfortable. I wanted to be dry, and tucked safely in my castle. Still, he said my parents were here, so I was determined to see this—whatever this was—through.

  “So close.” He chuckled, but I sensed no pleasure in the effort. “It’s about who I am. And what needs to happen. I’m sorry—”

  The door flew open, interrupting. An incredibly handsome man stood in the doorway. “Michael. I wasn’t expecting you to use this entrance. Cheeky. Can’t wait to hear the story.”

  I turned to Michael. “You know him?”

  Michael rubbed his neck. “Yeah, it turns out Ramien is my—”

  “Come in, Venus. It isn’t every day a creature such as yourself visits my humble realm. Let’s get you some dry clothes.” He stood back, and bid me enter with flourishing hands.

  I raised an eyebrow, nestling his name—Ramien, Michael called him Ramien—in my mind for later. “Your realm?” I asked, and then held my breath as I passed through the doorway. Tentative, I stepped into a room that could only be described as sumptuous.

  Lush emerald drapes enclosed stained glass windows. It wasn’t conceivable I would see the suns or moons of Kelari from way down here, surely, I thought. The walls were black and edged in scalloped golden paint. Overhead hung five massive chandeliers. One after another, lined up like twinkling stars in a row.

  Polished wooden tables sat on one side of the thickly carpeted room. They were made up of white linens, sparkling silverware, crystal goblets, and dinner plates adorned in gold leaf trim. Enough place settings for ten per table. A large gold candelabrum, filled with flickering candles, rested in the center of each table, and large quantities of uneaten food surrounded them.

  On the other side of the room were several chaises next to end tables. Couches in deep reds, warm gold’s, and whites were situated for conversation. A fifty piece orchestra played quietly, yet beautifully, at the far end of the room. The musicians looked different—like a mishmash of several different creatures. Except their hands. They all had nimble human hands.

  As I took in the room, Ramien answered, “Yes, Helker is mine.” He gave Michael an intense look and then added, “I intend to share it with someone. Soon.”

  I wrapped my hands around myself. As a kelvieri, the elements didn’t affect my body the way they used to, but I felt anxious. Michael noticed, and stood closer. “We should get you into some dry clothes.”

  “Such a gentleman, Michael.” Ramien sauntered to the opposite end of the long room. Michael put an arm around my shoulders and we followed. Ramien opened the door to a bedroom, which I found odd. Why would it be right off the banquet room? Ramien interrupted my thoughts. �
�You’ll find clothes in the closet.” Ramien clapped his hands twice, and a young kelarian of no more than ten or eleven entered from another door. Her metallic skin was pasty, and fear bled from her silver eyes. “This is Angela. She’ll help you dress, do your hair, and anything else you require.” He gave Angela a haughty stare. “Come, Michael. Let us leave the lady to her dressing.” To me he added, “We will be in the dining hall once you’ve finished. Angela will bring you.”

  “Michael?” I asked. He answered by shaking his head, an unreadable expression on his stony face. A tendril of anger curled in my chest. “I’d like to speak to my parents right away,” I said to Ramien.

  “All in good time, dear. Get dressed.”

  It was an order said with a smile.

  “Fine,” I answered through clenched teeth.

  After Ramien and Michael left, I turned to the little kel cowering in the corner.

  “Hi.” I said with a noncommittal wave.

  She bobbed a curtsy. “Highness. Can I help you get out of your wet clothes?” Her voice was high and mousy as her demeanor. She took a cautious step.

  “Yes. Thank you.” Sighing, I shrugged out of my jacket and let it fall to the wonderfully rich and soft white carpet. Angela scurried over and picked it up, hanging it on a chair. Droplets of water trickled off the jacket and hit the carpet.

  I wanted a warm soak in lilac scented fresh water reaching all the way to my chin. But now wasn’t the time. I’d settle for being dry. Saving my parents meant more than anything else.

  “Let me unfasten your dress.” Angela’s hands skittered along my back working to undo the fasteners. A cloying aroma, like dead flowers, or too much perfume, emanated from the girl. It wasn’t terrible, just really strong.

  I grabbed what was left of my braid and pulled it over my shoulder, out of her way. Her little fingers worked quickly. I removed the belt Aetha gave me after she changed me into a kelvieri. She’d called the irrihunter face on the buckle, Tortevia. As I touched it, Tortevia licked my fingers. I smiled. The goddess said Tortevia would be a light in the darkness. So far the irrihunter head hadn’t been more than a minor comfort. I’d grown attached to her though, and always wore the belt. I usually wore my boots as well.

  The symbols in the boots’ heels transformed after I changed from regular kelarian to kelvieri. Where before the heels contained a thumping heart and a glowing arrow, they now enclosed stars and fire. I believed the thumping heart represented my transformation from mortal to immortal. The glowing arrow represented my indecision, or lack of direction, and the irrihunter blood was the deception I drowned in.

  Zaren . . . and Michael had helped me get back to my planet. The deception was reconciled, at least according to the gods, and the Chans of my country.

  The new symbols seemed so much broader in their representation—stars and fire. Could they mean cold and hot? Light and dark? Good and evil? I still wasn’t sure.

  “Princess.” Angela spoke, bringing me out of my reverie. She tugged on my dress, indicating she wanted to remove it.

  “Oh, of course.”

  Angela pushed my dress over my shoulders and down my arms. The soaked material puddled at my feet. “Would you like a new unisa?” Angela asked, opening the closet next to the large four-poster bed.

  “Yes, thank you.” I stepped behind a partition and slid off my cream unisa. One of Angela’s small hands came around the divider. In it she held a thick towel.

  “Would you like me to dry you off, Highness?”

  “No, thank you.” Normally I would’ve said yes. Instead, I took the towel and rubbed down my body. “So how did you come to work for Ramien?”

  She let out a high, muffled cough and I peeked around. “You alright?”

  “Fine, your Highness.” She curtsied, her hands clasped behind her back.

  “You can call me Venus, please.”

  “Yes, your High—er, Venus.” She produced a strapless black unisa. “A fresh unisa.” I took it and disappeared behind the dressing screen. The fabric was crushed in the spot she held. The unisa was a bit vulgar for my tastes. Had I been at home I would’ve demanded a fresh one. But I wasn’t and I didn’t want to put the wet one back on.

  After I slid the obscene, dry unisa on (it fit too perfectly, like it’d been made for me), I stepped out. On the bed lay a delicate silver dress. The bodice was strapless with a gauzy piece of material going over one shoulder. Complicated flower designs were embroidered in the fabric. The bottom half of the dress flowed with material like liquid metal.

  “Isn’t it lovely?” Angela lifted it above her head. In a muffled voice she continued, “The master . . . Ramien asked that you wear this specifically.”

  “It is beautiful, but I can’t wear such an extravagant dress. I won’t.” I ripped it from her hands, my anger suddenly overwhelming, and flung it on the bed. The fear in Angela’s eyes returned. She placed her hands around her neck, as though she were being choked. Immediately regretting my anger, I said in a softer voice, “Please, Angela. I appreciate your effort. It is a beautiful gown, but it doesn’t suit my needs. I’d like a pair of trousers, and a shirt like what Michael wore. Did you see him?” She didn’t answer, and I huffed. “Never mind.” I stomped over to the closet and threw it open. A single pair of black trousers hung next to an amethyst shirt the same style as Michael’s. I turned to Angela. “How?”

  She shrugged, and squeaked, “Your wish is the master’s command.”

  Annoyed, I pulled the trousers from their hanger and yanked them on. I did the same with the shirt, noting Angela’s expression changed from fear to a resolved resignation. “I need boots.” As I spoke, a pair of black boots similar to those of the kelvieri boots (though no symbols existed in the heels) appeared. “How the helker?” I asked, not expecting an answer. I sat on the downy soft chair and latched my boots over my trousers.

  The timid girl trembled though her disposition was still one of determination. “Highness, if you’ll sit here, I’ll fix your hair and do your makeup.”

  Frustration bloomed in my chest. I didn’t want my hair done and I sure as cret didn’t need any makeup. I hadn’t come for a party. This wasn’t a social visit. Michael brought me here without my permission and the only reason I’d kept my cool until this point was because Michael promised to help me rescue my parents.

  I pulled my belt through the loops and secured Tortevia in place.

  “Re-braid my hair. And get me a cleansing tablet for my teeth. Nothing more,” I grumbled. Then thinking better of my attitude, I added, “Please.”

  Angela nodded. As she worked I thought of Zaren. He must’ve realized I didn’t attend the meeting with the Chans. I imagined him beside himself with worry, which filled my chest with a sliver of hope. He’d soon discover I’d vanished. But would he think I ran away? No, more likely he’d believe I succumbed to the sea. Either way, he would search for me.

  I needed a distraction, something to take my mind off my worry. “How long have you worked for Ramien?” I asked, peering at Angela in the mirror. “You look too young to work. Shouldn’t you be home with your parents?”

  “Oh, it isn’t by choice.” She gulped, covering her hands with her mouth. Then recovered. “Forgive my outburst. I didn’t mean it.” Tears steamed down her cheeks. “Oh, please. Don’t say anything to master. Please.”

  “Are you a prisoner?” I sat up straighter and tried to catch her gaze in the mirror. “Speak the truth or I’ll be forced to confront Ramien immediately. Are. You. A. Prisoner?” I spoke slowly to give her time to compose herself.

  Angela acted like she didn’t say anything about Ramien and hadn’t burst into tears. She proceeded to braid my hair, and wind the length of it over the crown of my head, fastening the end behind my ear. She’d done a marvelous job. Little wisps of hair flowed at varying places, framing my face. The style flattered without being pretentious.

  Once she was finished, she said, “I died more than a hundred years ago.”

 
; It occurred to me then she might not be working on all cylinders. I spun with the chair to face her. “You look . . . young for someone over a hundred.”

  Angela blanched, and looked in the mirror. I rose and watched her take in her reflection, as though for the first time. She wiped fresh tears. “This is what I looked like when I died. I drown in the Alayeahean Sea after being swept away by a wave. My parents, my little brother, and I went to the beach for the day. A last hurrah before classes were to begin again. My brother and I jumped in the waves. We were laughing, having fun . . .”

  I grasped one of her hands in mine. “Angela, if you died your soul would return to the Creator. You wouldn’t be here. Helker is for criminals. For those awaiting trial. You’ve done nothing wrong. Have you?”

  She shook her head.

  A fearful knot twisted in my belly. “You can’t be dead. Otherwise you wouldn’t still be on Kelari.”

  She pulled out of my grasp and turned away. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but that isn’t true. It hasn’t been true for a thousand years. Not all of it. Sure the first and second degrees of Helker are for those who’ve committed a crime, but there’s a third degree. Ra—” She stopped talking. Her face turned a terrible shade of maroon. Her lips turned blue. Gagging sounds escaped her throat.

  “Angela?” I grabbed her arms. “What’s wrong?”

  Tears leaked onto her cheeks. She tried to smile. Then her eyes changed from silver to black. What looked like oil began leaking from the sockets. One by one her teeth fell from her mouth. When her nose fell off, I darted back.

  “Angela!”

  Her body disappeared.

  The door flew open and Ramien entered. He looked me over and frowned. “I’d hoped you’d wear the dress.”

  “I have no desire to wear it. I’m not here for a party.” My words sounded fiercer than I felt. I was still frightened by what happened to Angela.

  “We’ll see,” he returned.

  Clenching my hands into fists, hoping he wouldn’t notice they shook, I continued, “What happened to Angela? She said she died a hundred years ago. And, where are my parents?” I came to stand directly in front of him. He was as tall as Michael. His eyes were black, and a strange, sweet smell surrounded him.