Eclipsed by Midnight (25 page)

“You had no idea about any of this?” Etienne’s accusatory tone lances his weakened father’s body, which is attempting to recover from some sort of spell.

“Etienne,” I call to him in warning, but he doesn’t hear me as he continues to bombard his father with questions, convinced he had a part to play. His father’s overwhelmed being shakes as his mind fights to make sense of everything. “Etienne!” I holler, finally catching his attention as he turns his cold glare toward mine. “Stop, he’s not at fault. Look at the buttons on his clothes. I bet the spelled bits of metal are all over everything.”

Etienne walks up to his father’s trembling form and picks at the buttons until he finds what I am speaking of. Dropping them like a hot potato, he turns back toward me. “What does that have to do with anything?” he snarls.

“He’s been spelled. His actions have not been his own. He’s been used as a puppet by the true king of smoke and mirrors.” My entire being shudders at the memories from my time in the stone castle, the intricate patterns adorning special doors and locks, all reminiscent of the charmed buttons on the king’s clothes. Marcos’ signature design forged in dark magic on his mission to rule the world. He was just as bloodthirsty as the queen now lying in quite the unladylike fashion on the ground, her regal grace nowhere to be seen.

“The rightful king who you killed! He should have been in the lead seat of the families. You killed my soul mate. I was meant to be with him once I absorbed the cups powers, and then we could have been together forever, ruling over all as we were meant to.” Her own grief takes us by surprise as she wails in the dirt, muddy branches and leaves clinging to her at every chance. As her words settle around us, Francois finally straightens himself, his rightful anger strengthening him. 

“How on earth would you have been able to manage that?” I ask, curious. She doesn’t have the gifts to wield it.

“First, his healer was going to syphon and transfer your gifts to me upon your fated death until you slipped through the cracks. Then I found my own witch and relic,” she admits, nothing left to lose. The necklace around her neck begins to glow unnaturally. Its power showing clearly, lending itself Sophia’s spent body. The damn thing did, in fact, hold the power of the elements but in weak form, and they were not happy about being trapped in there.

With a wave of my hand, I set them free, the stone bursting into flames around her neck. The king runs to her side to swat the fire out and I let him pass through the bindings, letting them fall to the wayside. She doesn’t have any power left to channel. Francois pats down the flames on his shouting and crying wife, and then promptly hauls her up by the neck, coming to stand at full height so that her feet cannot touch the ground. “You have wasted centuries of my life and have lied to me this entire time. You swore on your departed father’s grave that you were done with Marcos when I agreed to marry you. We built a life, a family… and this is the result?” he spits, a strength and resolve emanating around him that I had yet to see from this normally calmly and almost passive male. The queen’s garbled pleas become lost as the king’s strong grip tightens.

“Father, let my eren handle it,” Etienne offers, not wanting his father to have to deal with what needs to come.

“Son, she is my mate and my responsibility. Her death will be quite justified, but on my hands nonetheless. If you could please have two of your eren come stand witness, that would be much obliged.” With that, the king marches off into the woods behind the house with a screaming and kicking queen. Maurizio and Callum follow behind to stand witness, the terror of impending death ringing out all around the woods as fate is delivered at the hands of the rightful lead king. He had earned his place at the helm of all the families, and rightfully so. It is a shame so many underestimated him.

As the last scream dies out in a warbling slosh of choking fluid, my determination to see my son’s killer serve her dues falls way to an emptiness. There is nothing left to be done but to pick up the pieces left in the wake of total destruction. Too much blood shed in a single night, too many truths shifting to eclipse the light of the moon, blanketing our world in a frigid midnight.

The emptiness is accompanied by disappointment. Etienne’s past truths shown to me through his mother’s trick don’t sit well as my mate comes around, hesitantly feeling me out as he approaches. “Are we okay?” he wearily asks.

“Lil, did you really do all of those things she showed me?” No one else could see them except for Etienne and me. She made sure we both gained graphic visuals of the ghosts from his past. The screams, however, were audible for all.

“Yes, I am not proud of that.” His spoken truth hangs in dread.

“I know.” And I did. He fought every day to never go back to being that beast Koray pulled from the pits of hell and rehabbed. Etienne fights the urge to take me up in his arms. Instead, he waits for me to make the choice on whether I would forgive or damn him. “You really think because of all of that stuff, you may not be worthy to stand by my side?” I ask, vocalizing his unspoken fears.

He sends me the signal for yes through our bond, sinking my heart, deepening my hurt. After all that we’ve been through, his insecurities still find a foundation in something that should no longer have roots. When I run into his arms, he catches me instantly, holding me tight. “You are absolved in my eyes, don’t ever think that again,” I cry, tears pouring from my swollen eyes as I let the love I have for this male pour from every bit of my being. We have fought many obstacles and circumstances to get to this point, and I’ll be damned if I let him ruin it all over something that needs to lie in the past. We are perfectly paired and hauntingly scarred by things that do not define us. Instead, they serve as a lesson. Together, we will walk in the light, tasked with the purpose of keeping the balance in the name of Nannau. A life’s calling I am so very glad that I finally answered.

Chapter 17

“A thousand words can’t bring you back, I know because I’ve tried. And neither would a million tears, I know because I’ve cried.” ~sayinggoodbye.org

Sasha

As the alternating rays of light dance through the stained-glass front of the cathedral in an array of color, the rainfall beats on the exterior like a methodic medicine drum, the old stone beast continuing to stand strong over hundreds of years like a beacon of hope under the onslaught. I had floated in on a daze, the sun and rain persistently following me, yet never caressing my skin. It was a new telltale sign of power that came after that dreaded night of loss. Nothing touched me unless permitted.

The finger-like rays of sun do not massage my skin, the raindrops do not fall upon me like a lover’s kiss, and the wind does not wisp through my hair in an intimate embrace. It is like floating in a continual bubble of solitude, consent being my lifeline to anything outside of this space that now emanates from my being. Well, aside from my mate, my other half. He is the only thing that can breach the space being held whether I call for it or not. As annoying as it is, I welcome his intrusions, they balance me and remind me to connect with that in which exists all around. Part of me wishes I could have waited for him to come here with me, but being as hardheaded as I am, I answered the call on my own.

Pain draws me to this sacred spot, a gut-splitting sensation that dwelled deeper and heavier than any I have ever known. Like a true masochist, I need the pain like a babe to a teat. I cling to it and allow it to nest within me. It sure as hell is better than feeling nothing. That can never happen again, the consequences of allowing that slip would be too devastating to those who depend on what I now am. I swear to the goddess in the heavens that I’ve worn a well-worn path around that switch however, fingering, playing, and teasing myself with the idea.

Whenever I come too close, a little pulsation takes over my womb, reminding me of why I can’t. Our little hummingbird deserves better than that. If she didn’t speak up, my mind’s eye did. The all-seeing third eye is now open to everything—all the magical vibrations at all times. I see too much whether awake or dreaming. The only time I am blessed with a break is when I allow Etienne to take over my mind. I relish in what he provides, crave it on a primitive level, a beautiful surrender that brings a moment to disconnect. Hopefully as time passes, I will be capable of reconnecting in our dungeon, but for now, the pain is the only companion I have room for.

I stand in the middle of the aisle, surrounded by rows of pews on either side. My head remains tilted back, eyes fixated on the glow and vivacity of the color-stained panes falling upon every surface. I never fully understood the magnitude of the impact of these preferred window trends until now. How can one put into words being wrapped in a glimpse of divinity made corporeal?

My feet slowly pad forward to the altar after I take a deep breath, attempting to go quietly despite what lies in wait. Hesitation and sadness grip me, providing a quicksand effect to my trending direction. As I near, my body trembles and falters, preparing for what sits at the top. Something begins to pull me back in, warning, while another invisible hand lures me forward. It must be done; I need to embrace him one last time. We brought him back here to the holy land for a reason—to bury his battered physical self in the heart of our mother. And while I know his celestial transition has taken him to a peaceful place, I equally mourn his mortal loss. No mother can prepare for this; no parent should ever have to bury their child. Ever.

Yet, tonight’s the night. Under the full moon, his flesh will be released from the magical preservation we instilled and returned to where it all started. It is said that here, in this holy land of our ancestors, our species was born and evolved from the magic deep in the caves, in the belly of ancient Mesopotamia. Under the glow of the full moon, we light the funeral pyre, and at dawn, I am to call the earth to consume the ashes. It doesn’t matter if I am ready to let go or not. In order to give him the peace he was worthy of, it has to be done. I’ll never be ready to fully let go. It doesn’t matter how or when we properly lay his body to rest, that will never change.

Fighting the pulls in opposing directions, I make it to the stairs and lurch forward, a mother on a mission, and in dire need of one last physical connection with a dead piece of herself. Sweat beads on my brow and my breathing becomes labored as I march up the marble steps in determination. As I land on the last one, finally level with the raised, polished wood of the coffin sitting proudly on this sacred site, alarm bells pound against my skull. Lost in the sheer panic as my chest grips fiercely, I pull up the lengths of my skirt and run to that which something has been trying to hold be back from.

Grasping the lip of the coffin, I heave myself forward only to have all the air rush from my body as I fall to my knees. A piercing, incomprehensible wail rips from my gurgling throat. Clutching my belly to try to shield the innocent life there from myself, I rock back and forth, trying to make sense of it all.

“Mom!” Aiden’s voice booms from the other end of the Cathedral as he rushes in. My eyes flick up to meet his in all of his new vampire glory. Flashing to my side, he drops to his knees in front of me. “What is it?” he demands, concern overwhelming his big, brown eyes.

“Ethan, he’s not there.”

Aiden jumps to his feet as his complexion quickly pales. “I don’t understand,” he begins to mumble over and over to himself as he searches the vicinity for answers, his boots pacing as fast as his newfound speed will allow.

“Aiden, come here and help me, please,” I gasp, trying to suck back the tears and snot leaking from my face. Without hesitation, he offers me a large hand and lifts me to my feet with ease.

The folds of my long skirts sway and settle around my shaking form as I call the power of our great mother, Nannau, now entrusted to me. Softly, it responds, coming with ease for the greatest wavelengths need not overwhelm with all-consuming power. That is simply not needed as the supply and drive is endless and eternally present, shifting only when necessary.

“Mom—” Aiden inquires, but I raise a hand in a request for silence. His jaw clamps down and grinds as he complies, understanding but clearly not liking it.

When I slowly call my spirit to rise out of my physical form, it climbs through the layers of the physical materials binding the church until I am able to soar high like the red tail and get a bird’s eye view. Landscape stretches all around as I tap into the magical imprints navigating through the terrain. One would be amazed if they really knew all that coexisted.

Curling, inky tendrils grasp my attention as they slowly begin to dissipate back into the ground, all around the church. Calling light to me, I shine it down and around, the direct beams causing the vines of hell to go up in smoke upon contact. As the cumulus vapors rise into the air, I get a taste, drawing it deep into my being to be sure. With a gasp, I slam back into my body, eyes wide in horror.

“Mom! For the love of God, what is it?” Aiden grips my shoulders, his once carelessly tousled hair now trim and slicked back.

Shaking my head to clear it, I finally find the strength to answer. “Your brother—he’s not dead. He’s very much alive and possessed by a level of dark magic that I can barely comprehend. It somehow brought him back to life.” I shake my head in disbelief.

“I thought it was after me,” Aiden breathes.

“What?”

“When we turned, I fought it off. I battled for my life when I was under. It was total hell and chaos.”

Shock hits me as past transactions align in a direct connection that could possibly explain what led to this. “This is all my fault. I failed to protect in death as well as darkness. I didn’t know this was even possible.” A terrible taste comes over my mouth as an evil laugh resonates throughout the cathedral, making my skin crawl and heart ache. Aiden, as green as he is, still takes up a battle stance, eyes darting around, looking for the source. He isn’t going to find it.

My hand comes to rest on his shoulder to calm him. “Son, he’s not here. He is just projecting with dark magic.”

“But he was the good one—how did this happen?” Aiden pleads as his twin bond begins to feed his grief.

“I honestly don’t know what kind of bargain the queen made with what devil.” That evil woman’s web of lies ran deep and was intertwined with blood ties to things that should never be.

“No, this is unacceptable. I do not accept this!” His rage takes over his thinking as his muscles bunch under this collared shirt.

“I don’t know if I can even fix this,” I say as my thoughts begin to race through every spell I’ve learned and every page I have read from the archives. The royal bitch of a mother-in-law cannot get the last laugh. If I could raise her from the dead just to burn her alive all over again, I would. Her screams of pain would be like a melodic tune to my broken heart.

“You—you can heal him.” Determination fills his words as he sets his mind on the task at hand.

“Son, I can’t even trace him, which means finding him won’t be that simple. From what I have learned, those who walk in dark are far more deadly and difficult.” The idea that my very own flesh and blood fell victim to such a thing devastates me.

“I am his twin. I will find him and drag his ass back to be healed.” His promise is made in hope and hung in the air as the echoing, maniacal voice dims before fading out.

“Alright, son. We will solve this together. I won’t ever quit on either of you.” This will be no easy feat, but we have to try. Etienne has shared enough for me to know what a sentence this is for Ethan. How did this even happen? How did darkness win his soul and reclaim his suspended body long after passing? The magical preservation we put him under was to keep decay at bay until we could bring him back here and perform the ceremony under the full moon. If he had simply been in a dormant state, would his heart not have stirred? This still makes no sense.

Pushing aside all doubt on our ability to be successful in this new mission, I take Aiden’s hand in mine and lead him down from the raised altar. In this moment, hand in hand with my strong-willed son, despair fades into hope anew as Aiden takes his vow. Queen bitch will not win. Together, we will right these wrongs.

~The end… until the tale of Aiden and Ethan comes to find you.

To satisfy your midnight cravings, be on the lookout for part V—coming on a lunar eclipse near you, early 2017.

Follow the progress of the series @ www.lunareclipseseries.com or its Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/midnightbloompart1