Arianna Rose: The Arrival (Part 4) (24 page)

He tipped his head to one side, scrutinizing her grandiose show of bravery.  He applauded her, clapping his large hands together loudly.  “What a good friend you are,” he said bitingly.  “Watching out for Arianna, who is
, incidentally, my intended wife, I bet you think that is mighty thoughtful of you.  Of course, you’re wrong if you think that,” he said and smiled cruelly.  “You have no right to stick your nose in our relationship, but you did.  And now I have to address it.”  He formed a steeple with his fingers and rested his chin atop its apex.  “What to do, what to do?” he mused aloud, toying with her. 

“Get the fuck out of here, that’s what you need to do,” Beth said and glared at him.  She had so much anger in her, so much potential. 

“Where are Dane and Jason?” he asked and shifted gears, temporarily throwing her off kilter. 

“Out,” she said, unfazed.  “
Now leave.”

He took a deep breath and stood.  “Oh Beth,” he said.  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

She started to unfold her arms and conjure her powers, but Darius, recognizing her attempt to sift, blocked her and acted first.  He flicked his wrists and sent her careening through the air without slowing until she slammed into the far wall.  All breath left her on impact and he swore he could see the individual needle-sharp stabs of pain piercing through her lungs.  He was sure she hadn’t broken any bones, not yet at least, for as soon as she met with the wall, she began to thrash wildly.  Hands and feet slashed the air before him, drifting in a tangled, pale flurry near his face, disorienting him for a split-second.  Fingernails clawed, trying to gouge his cheeks, and kicks landed against his legs and torso.  He laughed at her effort, sad as it was, and the power of hate rose up inside of him. 

Truer than any blade and far more deadly, he felt a rush of strength surge through his muscles
, the purest animosity charging through his veins.  He was the embodiment of hostility, of rage.  He was power personified, his body storming with frenzied wrath. 

He swept both hands to one side forcefully and Beth sped through the air again then crashed to a halt against the opposite wall.  The impact rumbled the floor beneath his feet and a spatter of blood sprayed him
.  Beth wailed the agonized cry of a banshee.  But her cries were futile.  No one would help her.  Least of all him; he was overcome by the crimson sprinkles that dotted his clothes and skin.  The sight of it thrilled him, possessed him. 

Inspired, he brushed his hands back
and she flew to the wall she’d first been pinned to.  Another spurt splashed him and colored the wall a vibrant red.  He smashed her from wall to wall, testing each, painting them scarlet with the meticulous strokes of a master artist.

“Please,” Beth begged him, her voice feeble and strained.  He stared at her with a sharp frown then laughed, his voice disembodied, echoing from nowhere, yet everywhere. 

His bones began to shift, his muscles lengthening as his flesh reassembled itself, transforming into Dane.  Beth’s eyes widened in panic and horror, and a bolt of exhilaration shot down his spine. 

“That’s not possible,” she said and shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks as the gravity of the situation unfolded before her very eyes. 

“
Shh,” he said and placed his index finger to his mouth.  “Be still,” he ordered her.  She stopped moving at his command.  Outwardly, she appeared as cool as her chill gaze.  But that incessant pulsing in her neck continued to deceive her calm veneer.  It drummed dangerously against the tender flesh of her throat.  He reached out a hand that
was alien to him, paler and leaner
,
wanting to touch it, to feel the beat of her lifeblood as it frantically pumped through her body.  As he did so, he saw a look of horror assail her features.  Undaunted, he stroked the delicate skin of her neck, lavishing in the rhythm of her heart pounding in her carotid artery, readied for fight or flight.  Of course, she could do neither.  Her body’s response was a waste of time.  But he enjoyed it, nevertheless, enjoyed the scent of her stress, of her fear.  She watched him with intense concentration, terror seeping from her pores.  He was mesmerized by all of it.  He raised his other hand to her throat and felt with both hands, applied just slightly more pressure.  Her brow gathered in agony, dread washing over her.  Incited by her misery, he clamped down even harder, gripping her slender neck until his hands ached.  Her porcelain complexion deepened in color and turned a deep pink first, then nearly purple.  Veins in her eyes reddened.  Her eyes bulged and strained in their sockets.  But he did not stop squeezing, not until the erratic throbbing in her throat ceased.

He cocked his head to one side and looked at her.  Her lifeless eyes stared vacantly at him.  He released her from his grip and she fell to the floor with a soft thump.  He turned and surveyed the room as a master painter would assess his work.  Smears of blood adorned the walls and chunks of plaster had been scored. 
The bedroom looked exactly as he’d wanted it to. 

He
sighed with satisfaction and fled the cabin.  He stepped out the front door and the black sky overhead ripped open with a jagged streak of yellow light.  Thunder exploded.  The trainees who loitered outside Beth’s door looked from the sky to him.  Of course, they saw either Dane of Jason’s countenance, not his own, saw the blood on his clothes and face. 

“What happened?”
one asked and made his way closer, approaching him as if he were a feral animal.  They were right to do so; he was feral by every definition of the word. 

Rain began to fall like shards of glas
s, pelting his sensitive, newly transformed skin, and he took off, running as fast as he could into the dark woods. 

Scream
s and cries contended with howling wind that lashed rain about.  They had found Beth, no doubt.  A malevolent smile stretched across his face, pleased that his plot was under way.  He transformed back to his body and stripped his clothes.  He incinerated them then immediately teleported back to Arianna’s cabin.  He dressed in a pair of nylon shorts and slipped beneath the covers on the couch.  Arianna had not awoken.  She remained asleep.  He knew that would not last long, that soon a knock at her door would rouse her.  But until then, he decided to close his eyes and wait.  He wanted to savor the sensations stirring inside him.  For the first time in weeks, he felt truly alive. 

Chapter 17

A series of loud pounds rattling the front door of her cabin startled Arianna awake.  Her eyes popped open and her body rocketed upright, mind scrambled and heart rioting within her ribs.  Her gaze raced to the couch, to where Darius slept.  Immediately, glowing green eyes, eerily feline in their ability to slice through the darkness, captured hers.  He sprang to his feet and moved with the grace and speed of a panther. 

“Stay back,” he told her.  “Let me get it.”

Bristling at being ordered around, she flung the covers from her body and bounded out of bed.  “I’m coming with you,” she called.  She raced to the front room and stood beside him in time to hear several voices outside, all familiar and all calling her name.

“What the hell?” she muttered to herself and screwed up her features. 
Darius looked at her, his face a blend of curiosity and concern.  She opened the door. 

Hunter, Fabian and Alex waited; their faces awash with anguish.  She knew them well, had trained with them often, but had never seen them
as distraught as they were. 

“Guys, what is it?” she asked and narrowed her eyes so that her vision was reduced to a pinpoint.  Her hear
t hammered and awareness slithered down the length of her spine, winding methodically. 

“It’s Beth,” Alex spoke, his voice faltering. 

“What’s Beth?” she demanded.  “What is going on?” Arianna screamed when no one answered, panic coursing through her. 

“Speak!” Darius barked at the three young men and Arianna jumped involuntarily.  “What is this about?”

“She’s dead,” Hunter grasped his head in his hands and tugged at his hair as he said the words. 

Arianna’s stomach bottomed out, leaden and suddenly at her feet. 
“Who’s dead?” Arianna heard herself ask, but knew somewhere in the hidden folds of her brain that it was Beth. 

“Beth is dead,”
Hunter whispered and broke down crying. 

“Beth?” Arianna asked
.  “Beth?  Are you sure?” she asked again.  The world began to spin in circles, tilting and whirling in nauseating loops.  She grasped for something to hold on to, something to steady herself and keep her from tumbling to the floor.  “But I just saw her a little while ago,” she babbled as her hand landed on hot, firm flesh.  She gripped Darius’ forearm.

“We’re sure,” Hunter sniffed.  “We saw her.”

“Saw her,” Arianna breathed and burrowed her fingers deeper into Darius’ skin.  She felt her legs threaten to give way from beneath her.  The arm she clung to pulled from her grasp and encircled her waist tightly, supporting her.  “No, no, no!  It can’t be.  No!  She can’t be dead!”

“We can’t believe it either,” Alex said
somberly and shook his head.  His blue irises shined fluorescently against the reddened whites of his eyes.  “It’s just, I don’t know.  It’s just unbelievable.”

His words resounded hollowly in her head. 
Her ears heard them, but her brain resisted processing them.  Beth, spirited, plucky Beth, the best friend Arianna had ever had in her life, could not be dead.  “What?  How?  No there must be a mistake! She can’t be,” Arianna could not say the word ‘dead’.  “This can’t be!”

“Arianna,” Darius’ lips were at her ear
whispering her name softly.  “They saw her.”

“No!” she shouted
and spun to face him, her eyes wild.  She stood of her own volition now.  “They are mistaken!  Beth is strong and tough!  She can’t be dead.  She can’t be!”

Arianna wriggled out of Darius’ hold and shouldered past Hunter, Fabian and Alex, blasting into the damp, chilly night.  Rain had fallen and the grass was soggy as she attempted to run barefoot to Beth’s cabin.  She heard the men she’d left calling out
to her, heard the deep rumble of Darius’ voice yelling her name.  But she did not acknowledge them and she did not turn.  She put her head down and dug her toes into the mushy muck for traction, using them to propel her forward faster, though she did not know why she raced.  An inner part of her, profound and insulated by layers of tumultuous sentiments, knew what she would find.

When she made it to Beth’s small cottage
and saw Briathos’ face, wan and stricken with sorrow, she halted as if she’d run into an invisible brick wall. 

“Arianna,” he said.  The breathy tone he’d used, the woeful way he’d spoken her name, conveyed a tome’s worth of sorrow. 

“Briathos,” she replied, her voice quivering with a great tempest of emotions.  “Is it?  Is she?” was all she could choke out. 

He nodded forlornly. 
Tenderness poured freely from Briathos’ pale-blue eyes as abundantly as sunshine on a clear day and Arianna’s heart broke.  Guilt and confusion gelled. The culmination of her worst fear lay at her feet.

She looked past Briathos and saw that
the door was ajar.  She hesitantly peered beyond it.  Familiar faces fused together, becoming little more than a blur of barely recognizable features.  Time seemed to slow dramatically as she made her way inside with infinitesimal sluggishness.  She studied the scene before her, her eyes inspecting every inch of the room.  And what she saw shredded the remnants of her broken heart. 

Blood
, so much blood, peppered the walls.  Blood, Beth’s blood, marred every white surface.  She took several unsteady steps inside, stumbling past the entryway and sitting room into the bedroom.  Angry garnet blotches sullied pristine white walls in ghastly smears, ending in a wide stain that trailed to her friend’s small, huddled frame.

The sight staggered her. 
The room assumed a fuzzy, dreamlike quality.  Voices sounded all around her, tinny and panicked, as if echoing from a long distance.  Memories seeped from her pores like volcanic beads of grief, the first time she’d met Beth, the day Beth had saved her life, hours earlier when Beth had come to see her and Arianna had been dismissive.  Sorrow ballooned inside her and set her adrift.  She felt as if she’d left her body; that her life essence hovered above her flesh and bones like a specter, observing what was happening with a painstaking bird’s-eye view.

She brac
ed two arms against the wall, hoping to anchor what remained of her to something solid, but came eye to eye with gore. Shiny red smatterings spread out in front of her and looked like the brushstrokes of a painter. The vision began suffocating her.  Air no longer wanted to enter her lungs.  But darkness did.  The cabin was saturated with it, infected by it.  She sensed it surrounding her, reaching out to her with sooty fingers.  And her agony, the twisting knot of agony she was feeling, only seemed to amplify it.  Her head lolled from side to side, fighting a losing battle.  Beth was gone.  Beth was gone!  Her small frame, sagging and broken, lay crumpled on the floor, her face an eternal mask of torture.  Someone had done this to her; someone or something. 

A
female scream rang out, drowning the indistinct, reedy chatter, her scream.  The sound retched from the depths of her core, a spine-tingling, primal cry that was strangled in her throat shortly after it escaped.  Beth was gone.  And there was nothing she could do to bring her back.  Gravity gripped hard and pulled her back to Earth, sent her plummeting with the intensity of a free-fall, back to the horrific reality in front of her.