I went into my first task for him believing I knew what it felt like to take a human life. After all, had I not killed my mother? No matter how many times Narcissa tried to convince me that our mother's death was not my fault, in the end it had all boiled down to me. I was a daughter, not the son my father had so duly demanded, and he had put her to death for failing him. A part of me has always believed that we choose this life before we're born to it, and in so choosing this existence, I must have known the fate that awaited the woman who brought me into this world. Why else would she come to me and ask that I avenge her death if even she, my poor, dead mother, did not believe I was at fault? However, nothing prepares you as you watch the last breath escape your first victim. I had lost track of myself during the torture and could have gone on for hours had Lucius not finally descended like the Angel of Mercy to end their suffering. I stood over the body of a young woman barely older than myself and felt myself smiling as death escaped her in that final sigh. I leaned down on my knees before her and drew her last breath into myself. What power, what incredible power. I don't know why, but I was reminded of that muggle woman my father sullied his bed and his name with that night when I was nine. Because of my father, the blood-traitor hypocrite, I became a Death Eater.
She was alive with the power of that kill, her body surging with the power. Sweet Jove she'd never felt more alive in all her life, and when she turned back to look at Rabastan again, she could see the red and silver essence of his aura surging with the power of death. It was amazing, and beautiful and she couldn't wait to do it again. After Lucius sent up the Morsemorde, the dark signature of their Lord's work, he grinned malignantly back at his two apprentices, "Well done, both of you. I don't think I need to say it, but you two prove yourselves a most excellent team. The Dark Lord will be pleased."
Bella couldn't stop grinning. She felt exulted, her mind swimming with intensity and wonderment as she looked around the house that had been their horrific playground only moments before. She glanced over at Rabastan again, the otherworldly glow of his aura drawing on her emotionally, and she wondered if she was glowing too. She glanced over at Lucius. He pulsed more silver than red, but then he exuded with power at all times, and the one small kill he had allowed himself was probably barely enough to sustain his monstrous appetite. He'd been a Death Eater for more than four years, and such little raids as the one they were on were more than commonplace, in and out jobs for him.
"Do you do this every night?" she asked hopefully.
"Well, no, not every night. I do other work in his service as well, but usually I partake in two or three exterminations a week."
Lucius had a funny way of looking at her sometimes, she noticed. It was humor, she realized. He was humoring her, simply tolerating her presence now that he had gotten in good with her sister, and he had only gotten in good because of Bella in the end. Narcissa had laid down the law of their sister's bond with Lucius, making sure that he know they were as good as a packaged deal, sisters through and through. Bella had to admire him. He must have been a strong man to have accepted those terms, or else stupid in love. He was humoring her to the best of his ability, and she realized the entire act must have been killing him. Narcissa had that effect on people, she grinned, it was one of the things she loved about her best.
"Two or three a week?" she astounded. "That's not bad. I think I would like to do it every night myself."
His upper lip twitched again with that snide sense of appreciation, "Well, I'm sure once you have completed your training, his Darkness will be more than happy to oblige you. Although I wouldn't recommend this every night, Bella."
"Why not?"
"After awhile, the power you receive in the act can become something of an addiction, the misfortune being that the more you feed it, the more likely you are to go mad," he said that last word, mad, as though he had chosen it very carefully. Bella looked into his face, into the iced gaze he scanned her with and realized that he already thought she was crazy. His warning was something of a futile effort to save her from herself.
"In his name," she began, a wild acceptance of so twisted a fate revealed in her grin, "I'll take my chances."
That strange, glaring look continued on his face as he spun around to address Rabastan. Bella ignored him, reveling in the intensity of that feeling. It was like every cell in her body was singing from the inside out and it was a small wonder the world outside couldn't hear it. She wanted to spin around in circles with her arms out wide, listening to the electric hum of her own power gathering to her in full force. There was nothing else she'd ever felt in all the world that could rival the Dark power.
"Come along then," she tuned back in to the sound of Lucius' voice. "He'll be expecting our report."
The three of them disapparated from the scene, the lingering Dark Mark hovering over the house they had violated like a flag in the wind. When they apparated into the antechamber Lucius told them both to wait while he took audience with the Dark Lord, and after he had left them there alone, she glanced over at Rabastan still at the peak of his own powerful reception. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
The left-hand corner of his mouth tugged into a half-grin that reminded her so much of Rodolphus. They were brothers, after all, and looked very much alike, but again, even with the power of death still surging through him, Rabastan possessed an appearance of softness and innocence she was sure Rodolphus had never worn, even in childhood. "Tell you what?" he asked.
"Tell me about this? About how wonderful it is. I know what I want to spend the rest of my life doing after tonight."