Ch 9: Evil's Face
The Lady Sylvia Apollo was a decadent, indulgent woman. She lived in the royal palace as expected of someone of her rank, an entire wing dedicated to her private life, another to her public one. She demanded style, and was granted it without qualm or complaint. She had the wolfish tendency of sacrifice—others', of course. The Lady herself had lived with quality her whole life; it was now too much a part of her to relinquish at this stage. Physically, Sylvia didn't look a day over 25. In reality, she was technically a decade older. That thick streak of vanity was inherited from her mother and nurtured throughout her life with dedication.
Deep inside her cultured, soft white skin and generous, voluptuous curves lived a being far beyond empathy. Selfishness and avarice were so deeply ingrained in Sylvia that she no longer recognized them. Her most burning target—Felix Pendragon, as some knew him—had haunted her for exactly a decade. She had met the handsome young mage at the Royal Sorcery Academy when he was seventeen. Something in Sylvia's blood called out to possess the black-haired youth. Something her mother had felt once for Howl.
However, the women's paths had taken very divergent directions. Madam Suliman had taught Howl, chaining him under her command through loyalty to mentor and country. Lady Apollo had taken a different route. She had become Felix's lover, his first. She had bound Felix to her not through loyalty, but through lust and longing. But, like his father before him, Felix had broken that bond to flee into the wilds. It was only in his absence that Sylvia realized how much she had come to need Felix. Not the emotional need of one human to another—it was the obsessive need the entitled feel towards a possession they believe should belong to no other.
Even now, she paced in her study, wringing fine-boned hands as she scowled over her Arsalans' latest report. Felix and that crossing child had gone ballistic, apparently. Only one dead, unfortunately, but almost all of her men were too injured to maintain the chase. Sylvia tried to take solace in the fact that by all accounts, Felix and the woman, especially the woman, were also grievously injured. Details were fuzzy, but it seemed certain that her targets could move no more quickly than her Arsalans.
They should be so lucky, Lady Apollo thought to herself. What do I train these men for, anyway? Flopping down into her overstuffed velvet upholstered chair behind the wide, feminine cherry desk, Sylvia tried to calm herself enough to work on the reports littering the polished wood. They had been scattered from their neat pile when she had first gotten word that her men had let the pair escape, yet again.
Just as she reached for the first report, one of her young blond assistants raced into her study. Some traditions still stood, the boy slim and young with blond hair. Howl had looked this way once, Sylvia often thought. Although Felix hadn't been instated into the Academy young enough to cultivate the appearance required for the position. Those idle thoughts flitted away like frightened birds when Sylvia caught sight of the blood running down the boy's face, the slash over his forehead leaving a flooding wound that leeched the color from his skin. There was no concern for the boy's life in Sylvia. What she was concerned about was herself.
"What in heaven's name is going on?" she huffed, trying to keep authority in her voice. The boy trembled, nervous glances flitting over his shoulder to the door he had just raced through. Just when he opened his mouth, a voice, cultured, eloquent, and dreadfully familiar, floated in from the hall. Losing his nerve, the assistant streaked from the room like a frightened deer. Sylvia couldn't fight her way around the sheer terror clogging her throat to control the boy.
"I'm here for a visit, darling. And there's a proposition I'd love for you to hear." In strolled a very tall, slimly built man. His hair was just as black as Felix's, but the color was dense with the whisper of brown, cropped even shorter than Felix's already unfashionably short cut. Aristocratic blood gave him a proud roman nose and angled his knife-sharp cheekbones. His brows were dark and heavy, expressive enough to be forbidding. His eyes were black, the irises indiscernible from the pupils, the heavy ring of dark lashes doing nothing to soften the stark chill of the man's gaze. A mocking smirk curved full lips, but the ghost of expression couldn't carve its way into the glacial cold of the man's eyes. The smirk became a grin, revealing a pair of wolf teeth that gleamed strangely in the soft sunlight filtering through the window at Sylvia's back.
Uncontrollable shivers of surreal terror streaked up and down the Lady Apollo's spine. If the monster within her had someone to thank for its existence, this man was it. It would seem that he had returned to haunt her, just when Sylvia believed that she had forgotten him. Through frozen lips, Sylvia wrenched out a wooden greeting.
"Hello, Gabriel." The man who inspired such abject terror was none other than Sylvia's brother. Formerly known as Lord Gabriel Alucard Apollo, he now went by a name that none would recognize. Once heir to the Duke of Lycastle title, he had been exiled nearly twenty years ago. Sylvia hadn't been able to live in her family's mansion since that day. 12 bodies had been found behind the expensive oak paneling of the walls—5 of children. All bearing the bloody mark of Gabriel's magic. He never admitted what exactly he had experimented on them for, but to this day Sylvia feared that the taint of his taboo magic would infect her. She couldn't guess if they had been Gabriel's first kills—he had been only 19 at the time—but she knew deep in her soul that they weren't his last. Even now, the abuse she had suffered at his and their father's hands kept her awake at night.
Moving with the soft gait of a panther, Gabriel approached her desk, where Sylvia was rooted, sky blue eyes frozen wide. He planted his wide, strong palms on her desk and leaned forward. When his skin contacted the wood with no more than a whisper, Sylvia internally flinched and squeezed her eyes closed. Those same palms had cracked across her cheek with enough force to bloody her nose countless time, covert abuses she had dreaded and expected. Opening her eyes with the reluctance of a prisoner making her way to the gallows, Sylvia tipped her head back to make the dreaded eye contact.
"It's good to see you again, baby sister." His voice was a purr, almost gentle, but the manic light that suddenly blazed in his eyes made Sylvia want to yelp. He raised a hand, and Sylvia's throat and mouth dried as bile skyrocketed through her throat. Clenching her teeth and holding her breath, Sylvia stayed stock still as he brushed snowflake-soft fingers along her jaw. "It's been a very long time."
"Not long enough," she breathed, terror robbing the volume of her voice as she lifted her chin in an attempt to keep the pressure of his fingers light. But Gabriel just clicked his tongue and pressed harder on her chin as he leaned forward, forcing her face even farther up with the lightest touch, exposing the white fragile column her throat. Her pulse beat in the hollow of her jaw like hummingbird wings, the blood pounding hard enough that it seemed to bruise her porcelain skin. A small curve tilted Gabriel's lips, laced heavy with triumph and a sick sort of joy. Sylvia had not surrendered. She had been conquered, in a matter of moments.
"Oh, but Sylvia. It would seem that I came just in time." The smile hardened, and something unholy crept into his eyes. His thumb trapped her chin, and now Sylvia's head was caged, forced to gaze into the soulless depths of her brother's eyes. In a single moment, Sylvia's power, rank, and prestige counted for nothing. She was a weak child, again trapped in Gabriel's clutches to manipulate and abuse as he would wish.
Suddenly releasing her, Gabriel spun away, folding his hands behind his back to create an almost contemplative stance as he strolled around Sylvia's spacious office. "You've done well for yourself," he murmured as he inspected a tiny bejeweled mirror that sat on her book shelves. Turning back, Gabriel's eyes glinted. "But you can do better."
"Wha—What do you mean?" Sylvia stuttered out unwillingly, watching in terror as her brother's white fingers seemed to trail over everything that could be touched. She could just imagine the stink of dark magic he would leave behind. Finally seeming to expend the last of his nervous energy, Gabriel sat, straightening his jacket lapels and cuffs with dignified motions.
"You and I are of royal blood, Sylvia. It is time we exercised our right to claim what is ours." The eloquent, righteous certainty in his voice was intoxicating, almost like black whiskey. Sylvia blinked quickly, struggling against the instinct to sink under its influence.
"What… exactly are you suggesting, Gabriel?" He breathed deeply through his nose once, steepling his long fingers. A normal person would assume he was reaching for patience. Sylvia knew he was controlling the wild urge to slaughter her where she sat. Gabriel watched her hawkishly, silently. Sylvia's lungs started to scream as she forgot to breathe, watching her brother watch her in utter silence. Suddenly, he spoke, breaking the hellish eye contact that had been straining between the pair.
"The king is a fool, Sylvia. He drains Ingary for a war no one could win, and now hunts away his time to salve his wounded pride. He has no wife, and no heirs to sooth his advisors' nerves." Leaning forward, Gabriel focused on Sylvia, and she could feel her muscles lock. "He has unwittingly placed himself in a position easy for the taking." Wrenching open her throat, Sylvia gasped out the words that boiled in her stomach.
"You're suggesting a coup?!"
"A coup that will be talked about, celebrated even, for the next century. I will end this current bloodline in fell swoop, and you are the perfect person to see to our success. You not only have the king's ear, you have a tight fist on the country's finances, and a hefty portion of the commoners' support. Sylvia, my dearest sister, you are invaluable."
"But, you can't—"
"Oh, I can, Sylvia. Killing the current king will be the easy part, I assure you. It's what follows that will require your support." The wild light in his eyes blazed to an inferno, and Sylvia bit back a scream as Gabriel stood, moving restlessly as he spoke. "I will have this world in the palm of my hand. This is the fate I was born for. I bided my time, waited my turn. Now, I will take what should have always been mine!" As he spoke, Gabriel's voice had risen, cresting in a near roar while garnet light vibrated around his irises and emanated from the heavy stone on the ring on his left index finger. Suddenly, his voice dropped to a near-whisper as he returned his gaze to Sylvia. "And you will help me." Swallowing heavily, her mouth trembled open, unsure what words would fall out.
"What if—?"
"What if you refuse?" he repeated, the words murmured almost too low to hear. Moving faster than seemed humanly possible, Gabriel wrenched Sylvia's chair over out from behind her desk, his hands gripping the arm rests as he brought his face within inches of Sylvia's. She could hear the wood cracking under his grip as the first tear fell, his eyes tearing holes in her mind. Bringing his right hand between them, Gabriel curled his fingers, then pushed, the snap echoing down the hall. Blood erupted over his hand, quickly soaking the white cuffs of his sleeve. Sylvia heard the small scream and imminent thud of a body hitting the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she would see the small, white outflung hand and a few strands of blond hair in the doorway to the assistants' studies.
"You won't," Gabriel murmured. He smirked, just the slightest quirk of muscle that coated Sylvia's spine in ice. "Not if you wish to be buried in one piece," he continued, patting her cheek with his blood-soaked fingers. She felt the wet blood, thick as paint, coat her skin. Straightening away from her, Gabriel strolled to the high windows, allowing the blood to drip off of his fingers to the floor as he walked. Stopping in the light, he trailed his fingers gently down the window, the expression on his face one of immense enjoyment. A cold sweat trickled down her ribs as Sylvia looked at the blood on the window, five stripes of death that marred the sunlight.
"You need to recall your Arsalans. This nonsense with Felix Pendragon has got to stop. It's childish," he added, turning around long enough to glare at her. "Your rank is ten times his will ever be. You're better than him, and always will be. Chase a more reasonable prey."
"But, Gabriel… He and the crossing child…" Whatever Sylvia would say died on her tongue as her brother whipped around, pressing the thumb and middle finger of his bloody hand to her temples. Sylvia almost passed out, she was so overcome by sheer and consuming terror. Unwillingly, she watched all the information she had received about Felix and the crossing child pass before her closed eyelids. When she had nothing left, Gabriel finally removed his hand. Tears trailed through the blood that now stained the sides of her face.
"Recall only half your Arsalans. Keep the others on that pair's tail. The goal is now to only pursue; capture is no longer an option until they're within 100 miles of Kingsbury. Maybe there is something to be gained from those two." Gabriel's tone changed, hardening to stone. "But your focus is to stay completely here on our future. You can play with Felix once he gets here; he is none of your concern until then. Him or the woman." Sylvia was too frightened to notice the slight shift in Gabriel's voice. It was something close to interest when he spoke of the crossing child.
And then, he was leaving, strolling to the door of her office with an easy gait. "Until next time, then, Sylvia," he said nonchalantly with a wave as he glanced over his shoulder. Stopping with his hand on the door knob, his eyes sharpened like knives, slicing Sylvia down to the bone. "I'll be watching." With that, he was gone, nothing but a slight wind and the scent of blood left. Frozen for a few moments, Sylvia sat, her helpless hands lying limp in her lap. Suddenly, she launched to her feet, racing to the small washroom attached to her office. Sylvia barely reached the chamber pot before she vomited with painful force, fear still poisoning her blood and numbing her mind.
Gabriel was back. And blood was already on his hands. Would she be next?
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After much debate, I decided to go with the introduction of my ultra-villain as to immediately following our heroes after their battle. I've done a lot of post-trauma scenes; how about some fear to shake things up a little bit? Gabriel is my best bad guy yet. He's unpredictable, crazy charming, and freakin' crazy. Just the way I like 'em. ;) If you're having a hard time visualizing him, Gabriel's inspiration is Sylar from Heroes. Zach Quinto is definitely one my all-time favorite actors, and he just had to make an appearance in one of my stories.
Cookie to anyone who can tell me the character that Gabriel gets his middle name from. It just seemed to so awesome, the juxtaposition of angel and demon all bound by a god. Not that he uses that name right now, but still. I had to go back and re-change it from Gabrielle to Gabriel, as the former is feminine. My bad guy is many things, but feminine is not one of them.
I'm working on Miyazaki's style of human villains. You thought Sylvia was bad, well, she has a reason to be. And while there aren't really any excuses for Gabriel, he will surprise you. Not a lot, but a little. There's no doubt that he's a monster, but he's not a robot. I just keep winding out plot twists, tighter and farther than I've ever attempted before. This is a real test. Let's hope I can handle the heat.
On another note, if you've reviewed before, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Do it again!! Reviews are my main source of motivation, so if you want to see the next chapter soon, your best bet is to shoot me a review. Thank you so much!! Hope you like it!!