Hello, lovely people!

I hope 2023 is being kind to you so far.

This chapter is quite graphic towards the end, and there's strong language throughout.

Nevertheless, please review!

LookAliveSunshine03

Chapter 10:

The worst to come

10th January 1992…11th January…12th?

Hazel had checked into the Bohemia days ago. She couldn't remember how many. Against her siblings' misgivings, she asked for the Special Treatment, and Iona came to her room smelling like caramel and magnolias. She wore a lovely white blouse that looked grey against her skin, and with quiet authority, she told Hazel to lie on the bed.

My Marek is frightened by you. Laughing, Hazel obeyed, propping her head on her hand. She watched Iona approach, her nerves tingling, and thought, Perhaps he's right to fear me.

"I shall lay down with you," Iona said. "Is this okay?"

Hazel hummed acquiescence. Her siblings were quiet, certainly furious with her, but the peace was welcome. Iona visited guests throughout the day, so Marek knew where his wife was, not to mention what she was doing. Perhaps he was okay with it until Hazel arrived.

But Iona did not move to the bed. "Please, answer." Her expression was severe, but her voice was soft. "Yes or no, Hazel."

"Sorry. Yes," Hazel smiled and beckoned for good measure.

Iona beamed. "Good." She moved carefully, lying across from Hazel, so her hair spilled across the other pillow. "I need you to look at me, yes?"

Shouldn't be difficult. "Yes," Hazel said.

They gazed at each other, saying nothing for some minutes. Iona was tantalisingly near, her long, arrowhead nose inches away for Hazel's, enough to count the number of glinting facets in Iona's skin, to touch the slight cleft in Iona's bottom lip…

Well, Iona must have done something because Hazel remembered feeling warm and safe. It was a regrettably rare thing to the point it was unfamiliar, so it seemed entirely plausible that Hazel had fallen asleep. They were in the hotel room.

And then they sat in a sunlit grove, and Iona was bent over daisy chains. She already wore one like a pagan crown, and four tickled Hazel's wrists.

"What do you think about my world?"

It sounded like a test. Those enigmatic eyes watched Hazel, a smile playing across Iona's mouth. She gave Hazel a new daisy chain, and they felt the jolt as their fingers touched.

"My theory is this is another glamour." Hazel exhaled, leaning back to appraise Iona's reaction. "A shared space. It looks more realistic because it takes more work for you."

"It does." Iona sighed. She placed the chain above the other in her hair and pursed her lips. "Does this look silly, Hazel?"

"Not at all." Hazel leaned forward, straightening it. She immediately pulled away. "Ah, sorry. Should've asked."

Iona batted a careless hand. "I apologise now because I must go." She uncrossed her legs and rose like a dancer about to perform.

The world seemed to flicker, and Hazel scrambled up. "So soon. Why?"

"I need to visit the other guests." Iona straightened her clothes. She brushed Hazel's shoulder. "I'll be back if you want me, Hazel."

At her touch, Hazel felt an onslaught of emotions. Surprise, confusion, and a spear of panic. Instinctively, she leaned in. "I do want you."

"Yes. I know." Iona smiled sadly before walking away.

Swearing, Hazel hurried after her. "I said that out loud!"

She flinched in the high sun, stumbling through a cold, pastel city sprawling with lilac stone. Small riverbanks ran like veins through the square, hectic with dog walkers, smiling families, and exultant pairs. Hazel had to smile. Couples had sex amongst flowers, uninhibited, blinding bright, and absurd in the sun. Yet, even as people stared, the lovers never wavered, never stopped.

Vampires were nothing if not insatiable.

...But then Hazel was back in her hotel room. Still on the bed, surrounded by pale, silent walls with Iona nowhere to be seen. A pressure suddenly lifted from Hazel's mind as if landing back on the ground. Her ears popped, only to be replaced with Jools' shouting panic and Mikey's tearful relief.

She had been in Iona's world for two whole days.

19th February 2012

The man called Marek's bottom lip was plump as a ripe raspberry, bunched in a hilarious grimace. He jolted forward. His eyes asked a question they couldn't begin to guess.

"Michael," Beth whispered. "Do you still feel my glamour around you?"

"That nice and warm feeling, you mean? Like red fire in the air?"

Beth sighed with relief. "Yup."

Michael cringed. "Um, no."

"What?" Beth whipped around to stare at Michael, yelping, "No?!"

"Sorry. I – I thought you'd taken it off."

Beth's expression screamed hysteria. "But why would I do –?" She spun back to stare down Marek. "You! Why doesn't my glamour work with you?"

Marek stopped. He met Beth's fury with a tiny, instantly insufferable smile. "Because I won't let it, child."

"Why?" Michael demanded. He felt Beth's astonishment like a sharp tap.

"Why does she have a glamour?" Marek's patronising smile had grown, lighting up his face until he looked…well, Michael could see what Iona had noticed all those decades ago. He had always enjoyed men with a roguish twinkle.

Little did she know what you are. "Oh, crikey, we're philosophising now," Michael muttered. "Marek, your hotel is on fire, your guests running amok –"

"Not my guests." Marek's face suddenly slackened. His voice turned whiny with indignance. "My wife's. I did not accept...everyone."

Michael rocked back on his heels. That's polite talk for being a bigot.

"Well, what the hell does that mean?!" Beth yelled. "Give me back my glamour! I won't repeat it!"

Marek continued his orbit around them, muttering, "Why are you out here, Hazel? Have you grown tired of my wife? After what you did to her –"

Michael tutted. "Marek. You don't honestly believe I am my sister?"

"I'm offended on your behalf," Beth said, stepping forward. "Surely that's another excuse to kick his arse?"

But it was Marek who pounced clumsily, and Beth laughed in her surprise. Throwing her an exasperated look, Michael pushed Marek back. The force of it caused Marek to stagger and flail, and he almost fell onto his bottom.

He roared. "Succubus! Degenerates!"

Beth scoffed as his voice cracked. "You're seriously calling us names? Alright, fine – hey, idiot! Give me back my fucking glamour!"

"Stop it," Michael said when Marek lurched up again. "Marek, please. I'm not the one you want to hurt. Hazel didn't –"

"You filled my wife's head with filth!" Marek pointed a trembling finger into Michael's face.

He sighed. Of course, you would think that. "Your poor wife had repressed her true self her entire life."

"What? What do you say? You're talking nonsense!" Marek cried, spittle flying everywhere. Some of it landed in Beth's face, and her thunderous expression turned murderous.

"He's talking nonsense, is he? Oh, honey, oh…" Muttering, Beth very slowly began to walk.

In the span of Beth's careful steps, Michael had the satisfaction of watching Marek's face change from amused to totally alarmed. Michael had only known Beth outside of Hazel's thoughts for an evening, but he had expected a sudden burst of fury. A flurry of punches. A cascade of righteous kicks. Beth was quick and easy to anger, yet this was far more controlled. Delicate, even, perhaps as brittle as the glass cracking beneath their feet. It was honestly quite the sight, nonetheless, watching this small woman burn a hole between Marek's brows with her golden eyes.

What could break that control?

"What is this?" Marek was saying, smiling weakly. "Do you mean to frighten?"

Beth sniffed. "I don't usually give warnings." Her voice shook with violent intent. "But you stop trying to attack us. You give back what is mine, or I will really hurt you."

Marek frowned. "I…do not know your name, child." He flinched as Beth barked a laugh.

"Oh, now you ask for names? You take my power without my consent. You try – and fail – to fight my friend. I mean, I know him and Hazel look similar with those majestic cheekbones, but that's as far as it goes."

"Aw, Mikey. I don't believe anyone has complimented our cheekbones before."

Until now, the silence in Michael's mind had been agony. When Hazel had left him, she'd built warm brick walls around herself while he shivered, helpless and alone. Then Beth had come and (literally) picked him back up. Before long, he had grown…not used to the quiet, but he had put up with it.

Now, Hazel had blown her walls to bits, and Michael's ears were ringing. Her surprise and amusement seemed to echo across the whole bloody courtyard.

What's going on? What's he doing here, eh? Even so, Hazel stepped out of the hotel like she knew what was going on, and by Marek's reaction, one would assume she was the entire Volturi Guard come for their pound of flesh.

"You…" He staggered back, but Beth grabbed him and swung him around by the shirt.

"Glamour! NOW!" To Michael's shock, she took hold of some things that should not be gripped in a relentless, rage-filled vice. As Marek squawked, Hazel cackled.

"That's the spirit!"

But still, Beth's glamour did not materialise. "Come on, mate," Michael said, hopping from foot to foot. "Just…give it back!"

"I – I cannot!" Marek squeaked, and Beth took his feet out from under him. It was easy to immobilise legs made of jellified suffering, and he cowered before her.

"Please…"

"You can give it back," Beth hissed, looming over him. Mercifully, she'd let him go, but her stance was eager to resume the position if he tried anything. "You just choose not to, you - you're vile and pathetic."

She almost choked on venom, and Michael suddenly wondered if she was talking to Marek at all.

Demetri. Despite what was happening around them, Hazel asked, Where is he? Something about her tone, even in his head, instantly triggered a warning. Hazel needed the answer.

Michael shrugged. He's gone. We don't know where. It was all he would give her. He felt sick, and Hazel's weary sigh didn't help it.

"Fine." She straightened her dress. Don't try and stop me, Mikey. Please.

Michael had a second of confusion until Hazel's plan of attack leaked through. "NO!" He shrieked, too horrified for anything else. But, by then, it was too late, and Hazel had torn Beth off Marek as if the young woman was nothing but a wayward kitten.

"S-Stop!" Beth's surprise was strangled, though the worst was yet to come.

Michael scrambled to intervene as Hazel lifted Beth high, and oh, God, if he could catch her before she came down, but of course, Hazel knew he was coming. She kicked him aside, and then she was snapping Beth over her knee, snapping her spine like a twig, but the sound was an explosion as terrible as the vengeance a Volturi Queen would deliver.

And she would, indeed, deliver.

To be continued...