Chapter Thirteen
"You served your enemies like a slave." Madelyn said a look of disgust on her face.
"For thirteen years I was at their beck and call, doing whatever they wanted of me."
"Killing?"
"Of course." Luna said, speaking as if it were the least of the awful things that could be asked of a trained killer.
"How could you stand it?"
"I couldn't." She said blandly.
"What did you do?"
A small, sad smile turned her lips.
Several Hours Ago
"Welcome home." Royle said as Luna knelt before him. With a flick of the wrist he motioned for the guards to leave and they closed the door behind them to leave Luna and Royle alone together.
"How was Yukon?" He asked.
"Pleasant, my Lord." She said with a curt nod.
"Stand up." He instructed and she did.
"I have missed you." He said and leaned toward her, intimately close. His lips moved against hers and she remained inert beneath his touch. "You're made of ice, Luna. Why won't you kiss me? Is it because you think I might be your father?" He erupted into peals of laughter falling into his chair, covering his face with a hand, peering at her between his fingers.
She turned cold gold-green eyes to him. "You are not a man worthy to be my father." Her voice soft but her expression was hard and angry.
He froze in his seat, the cruel humour draining away to leave an unyielding statue.
"What did you say?"
His features shivered with rage and he pulled back his hand to strike her on the face. It was not the first time, usually she would allow him to finish his strike but this time she grasped his wrist and squeezed until he made a small sound of pain.
"You're not worthy to be my father." She said evenly.
Before he could react she twisted him and spun him to the ground, overpowering him with strength and skill.
He did not react instantly, taking the matter for a game, a salacious smile curved his lips as she straddled him. "If I had known you liked it rough-"
She covered his mouth with one hand and pulled out a syringe from her belt with the other. In one swift motion she stabbed it into his throat, into the pulsing vein and she squeezed the plunger and the liquid surged into his body, she could see the whites of his eyes as he felt the poison like fire in his veins. It was a heavy dose, meant to act quickly and it would not leave her much time.
She withdrew the syringe and discarded it in the flames, the odorous scent of burning plastic filling the room with clouds of thick grey smoke.
He realised this was pre-meditated, that she had chosen her time, her weapon carefully. He cursed under his breath.
"Evelyn should have killed you where she found you." He spat.
"You should never have used my mother."
"Your mother…" He laughed bitterly under his breath. "Your mother."
"Say her name." She whispered.
Blood bubbled on his lips as he spoke. "Tisiphone."
"Did you know she was named after one of the three Erinyes? Tisphone, avenging murder." She said with an ice cold smile. "What do you think her parents were thinking when they chose such a name?"
He coughed and sputtered, more blood marring the perfect ivory of his face.
"Do you think of her as I did every day since she was taken from you?" She asked; her tone lulling despite the manic intent in her eyes.
"Luna." He gasped her name.
"No." She pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't beg; I couldn't bear to hear a word of it."
He groaned his body twisting beneath hers as if trying to fight the poison, it would be moving slowly through his blood stream, soon his limbs would fail him completely and there would be no struggling, his mind would be the last thing to die, slowly extinguishing like the wick of a candle burning slowly to its end.
There was such hatred in his eyes, hard blue stones glaring at her as if he could wither her with his stare.
"If it weren't for you, my Lord, she would be alive today and I would not be this monster." She slowly pulled her knife from its sheath, the cool steel and wood sliding against the leather and glinting in the light like a hungry tooth. She put the steel beneath his chin, slowly scoring the soft skin of his throat. "Or perhaps you are my father, hmm? And if it weren't for you I may never have been born."
Royle made an appalling noise in his throat, unable to articulate as his tongue was robbed by the venom.
She pulled back the knife and watched him as his body became inert, useless to him and there was nothing but the fierce glint of his eyes as soon the light in them would fade.
She wanted him to watch and so she raised the knife in a two handed grip above her head and with a rapid whispered prayer she struck the knife deep into his chest. His flesh, vampire flesh, parted differently than mortal flesh, the blade cleaved easily through his skin, his meat, his bones, and seeking purchase in his heart.
"We take the heart as a warning to the rest." She whispered, words that were spoken to her when she had taken her first life serving the House of Ophisian.
Royle died. Between the poison and the piercing of his vital organ she watched his being become a husk, leaving nothing of the mystery or elegance of the Lord of the Night.
She carved the heart from his chest and left it beside his body, a thing of no use to anyone now and when they would find his body they would know that this was an act of defiance, it was the execution of a traitor.
She sat for some time over the spoils of her prey, she struggled to feel anything: triumph, satisfaction…pleasure. With limbs that felt like lead she rose to her feet and left the room with Royle's corpse inside.
She walked fast down the winding halls, the dim light helped her conceal the blood that covered her clothes, though all would smell it on her.
"You, girl." She paused in her step, the voice pinning her to the spot. Slowly she turned, a grim set to her jaw as Evelyn Halisaret approached her. "Where is Maegester Royle?"
Luna's eyes threw back the light, giving nothing but the impression of an animal.
"Why are you covered in blood?" Evelyn whispered.
"Do you remember me, Evelyn Halisaret?" She asked.
"You're Royle's bitch." She hissed.
Luna smiled perversely. "I'm not a bitch though there is animal still left in me; no amount of the Blood could wash that away."
"What are you talking about?"
"Do you remember Tisiphone Drache?"
Her eyes flared at the sound of the name. "Drache?"
Luna nodded. "You murdered her." She said.
Evelyn shrugged as if the matter meant little enough to her. "She deserved to die."
"As you deserve to die." Luna's voice trembled as tears well in her eyes.
"Ah, so you're Lambert's little cub?" She smiled, grotesque and sharp.
Luna took the knife edged in poison from her waist and held it up to Evelyn's cheek, the sharp point by her eye. The motion had been so sharp, Evelyn had not been ready for it and now with the metal pressed to her she was cool and calm.
"You deserve to die as he died and you will in time." Luna whispered and drew the blade against her skin and it parted in a shallow cut but that's all it would take. Time would kill Evelyn Haliseret.
"What have you done?" Evelyn asked despite the sharpness of the knife cutting into the flesh of her cheek.
Luna drew back, sheathing the knife. "Maegester Royle is in his chambers." She said in a bland official tone. "He would be most pleased of your company."
Evelyn's brows drew together, she had no comprehension of what was happening. "You will pay for this, you mad bitch." She said softly and touched her bleeding cheek. She turned on her heels and strode toward Royle's chambers.
Luna turned and ran. She knew she was heading home though she moved slowly when she was greeted by the night air and silver trickle of moonlight upon her face. She could not comprehend all that she had done and yet it was what she had wanted. Years upon years had led to the moment, that very moment and now there was nothing.
Hollow.
She reached her home and the first thing she did was peel off her gloves and lay them down on her dining table, she looked down at her fingers and though there was no blood she couldn't help but feel the tackiness of it there.
She undressed, shedding one blood soaked layer at a time and stepped under the shower and began to scrub the night's events from her body, the water was boiling hot and her skin turned lobster red, blistering beneath the extreme heat. No matter, it would heal.
She put on a pair of shorts and chiffon blouse as if it were any other night, as if she were an ordinary woman curling foetal on the couch seeking surrender in sleep, she lay a long time waiting for it but it never came.
She could sense the intruder as they slipped in through the back window; she could hear the heavy breathing, she could hear the rhythm of their heart and the steady thrum of their fear. She knew then it was not the Night coming to seek justice but something else.
The Night would seek its revenge in time.
Miss S