Chapter Nine
*Author's Note: A thousand apologies for leaving you all for so long, chickadees! I have been out of town (spring break!!), and also a bit down about the recent and very tragic death of Natasha Richardson. AND I'm leaving the country soon, and have been dealing with a thousand and one problems with my passport.
But never fear; I am back! And this dark little tale will be finished before I leave the States, so keep up the faith!*
Bombalurina gave a self-satisfied smile as she watched the Jellicles scurry about in fear and panic. Oh, this was even better than she had anticipated.
Macavity had taken care of the situation. His plan had been precise and effective. Bomba was impressed. She just hoped that her brother would keep Old Deuteronomy alive long enough for Bomba to extol her revenge.
~*~
"What do you want from me?" Old Deuteronomy asked in a tired tone.
"Don't you recognize me?" Macavity asked.
"Yes, Macavity," came the reply.
"I'm glad to see that you still know my name," the gingertom gave a hateful grin. "I mean, you should—I am your son, after all."
"Why are you doing this?" Old Deuteronomy asked.
"Don't act so naïve," Macavity growled. "You know exactly why I am doing this!"
"This isn't the way, son," Old Deuteronomy's dark eyes filled with sorrow.
"Isn't the way?" Mac scoffed. "Isn't the way?! You banished my mother—sent her away like a damned Pollicle! What do you expect me to do?"
"Forgive him," a voice came from the shadows. Grizabella stepped forward, her face contorted in pain and sorrow.
"What?" Macavity turned to face his mother. His expression was filled with disbelief. "Surely you've gone mad."
"This evil that you and your sister have planned will not solve anything," the grey queen pleaded. "Please, just let him go. He is your father, Macavity—surely you cannot kill him!"
"He is no father to me," Macavity said bitterly. He turned back to Old Deuteronomy, his voice hoarse with tears of rage, "You never even saw us—you sent Mother away while she was pregnant with your kits! How could you? How could you condemn your children to a life of hate and fear? How could you be so cruel?"
"I did what I thought was best," the maine coon said quietly. "Now, I see that it was not a wise decision—"
"Not a wise decision?" Macavity asked mockingly. "You threw us away, completely destroyed your family and our lives, and you think that it was not a wise decision?"
He leaned forward, his chest heaving angrily. His face was just inches from his father's. "You're about to see just how unwise that decision was."
~*~
Tantomile reached forward, quickly snatching Demeter's collar from the queen's neck.
"Hey!" Bomba gave a cry of anger, rushing towards the black and white queen. But apparently Tantomile was much stronger than her thin frame implied. She grabbed Bomba by the throat, quickly pushing her back into a pile of pipes.
While Bomba was still trying to regain her footing, Tanto ran her fingers over the collar. Soon, she found an odd bump inside the lining. Using her claw, she pulled away the lining to reveal a small amulet.
Bombalurina didn't move. She knew that all was lost.
"Interesting," Tantomile turned to her, holding up the amulet. "I assume this accounts for Demeter's strange behavior."
"No," Bomba admitted, gingerly rising to her feet and dusting off her coat. "It just keeps you from messing with her."
"Just like the amulet in your collar," Tanto suddenly understood. "That's why I can't read your mind."
"For such a smart cat, you really are slow," Bomba smirked.
"I seem to get around just fine," Tantomile stepped forward, her chin jutted out in a gesture of defiance.
"Look, Tanto," Bomba adopted a soft tone, moving in until her face was just inches from the black and white queen's. "No one has to know of this."
"I'm not one of your mindless toms," the corner of Tanto's mouth quirked into a grin. "You'll have to try harder than that to convince me."
"Tell me," Bomba replied breathlessly, her fingers gently tracing the outline of Tantomile's face. "What would it take?"
~*~
As soon as the collar fell from her neck, Demeter felt a strange sensation through her body. She looked across the yard at Munkustrap, who lay on the ground, not moving. Apparently he was still recovering from Macavity's attack. Something stirred within her—small at first, but with growing intensity. Then, it was as if a flood gate of compassion was opened upon her soul—the spell was broken.
She rushed to him, softly calling out, "Munkustrap. Munkustrap, are you alright?"
At the sound of Demeter's voice, Munkustrap felt his heart stop. There was so much warmth, so much love in her tone…was she actually concerned for him? Surely it meant that she still cared! At that thought, Munkustrap sat up, slowly making his way to her.
She met him halfway. Her tiny paws gently cupped his face, tears spilling down her face.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel…like I've been in a daze, and I've just woken up. I—"
"I know," Munkustrap said softly.
"I just…I'm so sorry." She rested her head against his chest, mumbling, "I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Bombalurina has kept you under a spell," Munkustrap explained, keeping his voice low so that no one could overhear them.
"Why?" Demeter looked up at him, her face filled with confusion. "She's my friend."
The realization dawned on her. Suddenly, she looked around, the tears falling softly down her cheek, "How are we going to get my father back?"
~*~
Tantomile drew a nervous breath, her eyes never leaving the dark orbs that stared so enticingly at her. To say that she wasn't tempted by Bomba's offer would be a lie. Ever since she had seen the red queen, she had been entranced—Bombalurina had an aura about her that was absolutely captivating.
"I-I-I can't," she took a step back.
"Yes you can," Bomba purred, stepping forward, her eyes gleaming with predatory anticipation. Now that she was back in control, she was enjoying this tightrope walk on the forbidden line.
"You're black magic," Tanto said weakly, her mind still trying desperately to fight the emotions that were pulsing through her veins.
"I know," Bombalurina grinned as she leaned forward, gently cupping the back of Tantomile's neck and drawing the queen closer to her. "I know."
~*~
"Oh, this is terrible," Teaser shook her head. Corico nodded in agreement.
Just then, Mistoffelees rushed over, announcing breathlessly, "I'm going to bring Old Deuteronomy back."
"What?!" Teaser and Corico cried in unison.
The tuxedoed tom nodded in affirmation. "I'm going."
"You can't," Teaser grabbed him by the shoulders. "He will kill you!"
"I have no choice," Misto replied simply.
"Let me help you," Teaser said passionately. Corico and Misto exchanged glances. Apparently Misto's magic had worked better than they thought.
"Please," the petite queen pleaded. "He's my father. I know him. I know where he's keeping Old Deuteronomy; I know what he'll do. Please. Let me help."
"Fine," Misto gave a small smile of appreciation. "How do we stop him?"
~*~
Tantomile closed her eyes, surrendering to the red queen's lips. As she felt Bombalurina's tongue slide into her mouth, the realization of her treachery slammed into her full-force.
"Stop!" She pushed Bomba away, immediately repulsed by her own compliance in the situation.
"What's wrong, Tantomile?" There was a slight taunt to Bombalurina's tone. "You don't like it?"
"N-n-no," Tanto admitted, instantly regretting her answer. She blushed profusely, her anger rising within her. She had allowed herself to fall into this black widow's web, to be drawn in by those dark eyes and those lips—those lips that tasted of pomegranate and wickedness!
"Then what's the problem?" Bomba purred, stepping forward once more. Her proximity was intoxicating; Tanto felt her knees weaken—along with her resolve.
"You helped Macavity kidnap Old Deuteronomy," she stated, trying to will her body into not wanting the red queen's touch.
"Yes, I did," Bomba didn't even bat an eye.
"How could you be so evil?" Tanto asked in a hoarse whisper. "So evil—"
"And yet so tempting?" Bomba finished, raising her eyebrow provocatively. "That's the allure of it, Tantomile. Because I do whatever I want—I don't care who gets in the way or what happens. I'm free, free to do whatever I please. Don't you want that freedom?"
"Not if innocent lives are harmed in the process," Tanto replied.
"You can't think about that," Bomba said softly. Her voice had a lulling cadence, like the gentle sound of waves at midnight. "Haven't you ever just wanted to be free? To do what you wanted—not what everyone else wanted, but what you wanted?"
"Yes," Tanto admitted.
"I can give you that," Bomba purred. "I can give you freedom. All you have to do is follow me."
"You're lying," Tanto said softly, turning away from the red queen.
"You don't sound convinced," Bomba replied with a smile. "You know I'm right."
"You're evil," Tanto looked up at her, finally daring to meet those dark eyes again—those eyes that seemed to transfix her, the way the gaze of a serpent mesmerizes a little bird.
"I know," her smile deepened.
"Why did you do this?" Tanto still didn't understand.
"You'll understand soon enough," Bomba replied smoothly.
"I want to know now," Tanto retorted stolidly.
"You're beginning to bore me with your incessant questions," Bombalurina lost her seductive air. Her patience was wearing thin. She quickly snatched the amulet from Tanto's paw and crushed it beneath her heel.
"Now," she straightened up with an air of finality. "You have no proof. Problem solved."
Tantomile watched the red queen stalk away, her hips swaying with each step. Oh, she truly was a beautiful creature—beautiful but deadly, a dangerous plague of hatred and evil cleverly disguised in the form of a rose. But even roses have thorns.
~*~
Cassandra felt an odd sensation rippling through her body, like a light summer breeze on waves of grass. The world became distorted, until it disappeared completely. Then, another world began to take shape, becoming more and more stable.
"Saints in Heaviside," she breathed in amazement. "Misto did it."
To be honest, the dark queen didn't think that Misto really could transport her to Macavity's lair, where Old Deuteronomy was being held.
She looked around at her surroundings. She was in a closet, or cellar of some kind. The walls were concrete and cold. She must be in a warehouse. Now all she had to do was find Old Deuteronomy. Summoning up all her courage, she reached for the doorknob, gently turning it and peering out into the deserted hallway. Once she was certain that the coast was clear, she stepped out into the hall, trying to gather her bearings and locate Old Deuteronomy.
That's when she smelled it—hyacinth.
~*~
Bomba made her way across the yard, her mind moving at a million miles a minute. Macavity had succeeded, but there was still much to do. First, she had to find Demeter. Until this whole matter was resolved, then she must keep the black and gold queen under her grasp.
That's when she saw them.
Munkustrap and Demeter.
Embracing each other passionately.
"Great," she growled to herself. "I leave her alone for five minutes and all hell breaks loose."
~*~
"Don't do this!" Grizabella pleaded, stepping in between Old Deuteronomy and Macavity as a shield.
Macavity gave a growl of displeasure. This was the second time that someone had stepped between him and his intended target.
"Step aside," he threatened.
"No," Grizabella replied tersely. "I won't let you do this—you can't destroy your father."
"He is not my father!" Macavity cried out again.
"Yes, he is!" Grizabella thundered back. "Whether you like it or not, he is your father. Yes, he wronged you, but this will not change anything."
"Stop defending him!" Macavity cried out in exasperation. "He deserves everything he gets!"
"This isn't going to make things right," Grizabella tried to calm him down. "Just let it go."
"An entire lifetime of pain and rejection—and you just want me to let it go?" Macavity was incredulous.
"I know it's hard—but it's the right thing to do," Grizabella reasoned.
"I'm past right and wrong," Macavity said staunchly. He pushed his mother aside, "This ends tonight."
~*~
Cassandra stood frozen in the hallway, her legs as heavy as wax. She couldn't move, couldn't stop herself from taking ragged, hysterical breaths. This place—she had been here before! The smell of hyacinth could have been a coincidence, but there was something else…something indescribable that told Cassandra that she had been in this very hallway, many moons ago.
Suddenly, she remembered the entire thing.
She had been at a club—the music was loud, the crowd was louder. It was hot, too hot. A red queen had approached her—how had she not remembered this? And how had she not realized that the queen was none other than Bombalurina? Of all the vivid memories she retained from that night, why hadn't she remembered the queen who had led her into the darkened alley—and to her horrible fate?
Cassandra's body shook with silent sobs as she realized the truth—she had been raped by Macavity. All these years, she had assumed it was some random stranger, a complete and horrible twist of fate. But looking back, she realized that it had all be a clever and well-crafted plan.
She remembered hearing two voices afterwards.
"Is it finished?" The first had asked. Now she realized it was the voice of Bombalurina.
"Her mind is too strong," the second had replied. It had to be Macavity. "She would never believe that you saved her. I can only create so much of a memory."
"Then let her go," Bomba had replied carelessly. "We'll try again in a few months. Find a different one."
"Why not our sister?"
"Half-sister," Bomba had corrected tersely. "Too risky. And no way am I letting you lay a paw on your own flesh and blood. It's just disgusting."
"Desperate times—"
"We're not that desperate," Bomba had replied coolly. "Now, take her back to the alley. Erase as much of her memory as possible."
Cassandra couldn't remember the rest—apparently Macavity had done a good job of erasing that part of her memory.
But why hadn't she remembered any of this before? In the thousand times that she relived this nightmare, why hadn't these memories surfaced?
Because you weren't here—back where it all began, her inner voice said quietly.
She looked towards the closed door at the end of the hall—light poured through the cracks; she could hear two voices arguing. One of them was definitely Macavity.
It isn't too late for revenge.
~*~
"This is all my fault," Grizabella turned her head away sadly, a single tear trickling down her ragged cheek. "I only taught you hatred—I never taught you how to forgive."
"Forgiveness is overrated," Macavity replied smoothly, turning his attention to his father. "You've been awfully quiet, old man."
"What do you want me to say?" Old Deuteronomy looked up at him in confusion. "That I made a mistake? That I am sorry? That I never meant for this to happen? It wouldn't make any difference to you—your mother is right; you couldn't forgive, even if you wanted to. You don't know how."
"You're right," Macavity growled. "But I do know how to kill. And it's time I put my skills to use."
~*~
Cassandra steadied herself as she reached for the doorknob. One, two…
The light was almost blinding, but her eyes quickly adjusted.
"What the…" Macavity whirled around at the sound of the door bursting open. Cassandra quickly lashed out, catching him off-guard. Old Deuteronomy stood, as if to stop the fight, but Grizabella seemed to hold him back.
Cassandra was surprised to see the Glamour Cat, but she really didn't have time to ask questions. The dark queen stood in the center of the room, panting heavily under the hurricane of emotions that swept across her battered soul. Now, she would have her revenge.
She would kill Macavity.
