Love's Sacrifice (15 page)

‘
Do you know how lucky you are?’

Lucky? I am robbed of all words.

‘
That is the ultimate goal. To allow the master to inhabit our souls. Your father allowed it.’ Her eyes become misty with the memory. ‘Sometimes you could see Him looking out of his eyes. He would look out at you, alive and living, in a human form. It is the thing we do for Him. We allow him to walk the earth in human form. It is why we keep our bloodline pure. If we sully it by mixing our blood with impure lines he will no longer be able to possess us. It is the reason we have all this power. It is our reward. Ultimate power over all of mankind.’ Her voice changes, becomes wheedling. ‘You don’t know what it feels like. You must allow him to take you over.’

I stand and take a few steps away from her. ‘But I’m not a bloodline, am I?’

She laughs suddenly. The sound is sarcastic and taunting. ‘You’re a fool, Blake. I never imagined you would be so blind. Can’t you guess that your bloodline is by far purer than the Barrington bloodline?’

I stare at her with surprise. My chest feels as if it is on fire. ‘Who is my real father?’

‘
Do you really need me to spell it out for you?’ She seems genuinely surprised that I don’t know.

‘
Yes, God damn it,’ I say harshly. ‘Spit it out.’

‘
Your biological father is Hugo.’

‘
Hugo?’

‘
Yes, Hugo Montgomery.’

Hugo Montgomery! For a moment nothing makes sense. Time stops. The whole world outside my mother’s living apartment ceases to exist. We are splendidly isolated and perched high in the sky. I stare at her. She stares back with an expression remarkable only for its lack of emotion. Her eyes are indifferent blue stones. Then the antique clock on the mantelpiece above the seventeenth-century fireplace starts again.

‘
What?’ I ask incredulously.

‘
It’s not that startling, surely?’ she sighs.

‘
But he’s Victoria’s father!’

‘
Of course.’

‘
Victoria is my sister?’

‘
Half-sister.’

‘
I was supposed to marry her?’

‘
Which you didn’t do,’ she reminds in a silkily bored tone.

‘
It would have been incest if I had,’ I counter angrily.

‘
I never suspected you of being tedious.’

‘
Why did the families want us to marry?’

‘
For the bloodline. In your offspring would have run the purest blood of all.’

‘
Does Victoria know?’

Her voice is very dry. ‘I believe she is still recovering from the shock of it even as we speak.’

‘
Does Hugo know?’

She nods.

‘
And… Father? Did he know?’

She looks at me disdainfully, and I marvel at her heartless, carefully expressionless mask. She is like one of those nimble mountain goats. Even on the most precipitous crags she never loses her nerve or her footing. She moves so casually yet so surely as she nibbles on tufts of grass among dangerously loose rocks.

‘
We all did,’ she exclaims. ‘You didn’t imagine I had a sordid little affair with Hugo, did you? We planned it and we executed it for the good of the family.’

‘
My God! You’re all mad.’

‘
Madness is a subjective thing. At any rate, it would appear we failed, wouldn’t it?’

Lana Barrington

Julie comes to see me.

She hugs me. ‘I’m so sorry, Lana,’ she says.

But I am hollow-eyed. I don’t give a damn about people being sorry that my son has been taken from me. I want what I don’t have. I want information. I want to know what Vann has told her.

I offer her coffee and she accepts. We sit next to each other drinking coffee.

‘
Blake will get him back,’ she tells me.

I put my cup down. ‘How do you know that?’ I ask.

She is not daunted by my question. ‘Because I understand what you do not.’

‘
What? What do you understand?’ I demand, both my voice and manner more aggressive that I intended.

‘
I know that Blake is special. Once when you were not there I saw him interact with someone that Vann said is very frighteningly powerful. He didn’t give an inch, and yet that frighteningly powerful man bowed to Blake. He has something they covet, Lana. They want or more likely need him. They will never let anything happen to him or Sorab.’

I look at Julie. ‘You know their agenda, don’t you?’

She nods unhappily.

‘
Tell me what it is?’

She looks at me with pity in her eyes. ‘Oh, Lana. Blake does not tell you because it will grieve you.’

My fist connects with the table, so hard the coffee cups rattle. ‘Do you think anything you tell me will grieve me more than what I already feel?’

She looks me in the eye. She is brave. I’ll give her that. A lot braver than I gave her credit for. ‘There is always room for more grief.’

I crumple in shame. ‘Blake believes I am weaker than I am. I want to know.’

‘
I hassled Vann for ages. I wanted to know. And in the end he told me and now I am not the same. I wish I had not asked. I wish I didn’t know.’

‘
Why?’

She looks at me sadly. ‘Because there is not a single thing I can do about it.’

‘
I’m not a child. I deserve to know.’

But Julie just shakes her head. ‘Trust Blake, Lana. He truly loves you. Everything he does is to protect you.’

I lean back in frustration. ‘OK, OK. Forget I asked. The truth is, I don’t care. I just want Sorab back.’

‘
And you will,’ she says with total conviction. Conviction I wish I had.

By the time Billie arrives with a bottle of vodka, Julie is gone. She doesn’t say anything, simply finds two large water glasses and fills them up, spilling quite a bit. I can see that she is already more than half sloshed. She comes to the table where I am sitting and pushes a glass toward me. I shake my head.

‘
Didn’t think you were afraid of a little vodka,’ she slurs.

Oh, what the hell! She’s right. Maybe this will help dull the pain. I take the glass and start drinking it like it is water. I can see Billie’s eyes widening.

Halfway down the glass, I have to stop. I feel sick. I put the glass down and look at Billie. ‘This is not going to help.’

‘
You’re strung up tight like a bow. You need to loosen up.’

‘
Loosen up? For what?’

‘
It’s not your fault,’ she says.

‘
What, no flip remark! You’re losing your touch, Billie.’

‘
Um, yeah. Maybe.’ She looks sheepish.

I take a deep breath. The alcohol is already singing in my head. But I don’t feel any happier. In fact, I feel a bit sick. I put my head in my hands. ‘I don’t feel so good, Bill.’

‘
Did you eat today?’

‘
No, not yet.’

‘
Oh shit. Do you want something to eat now?’

‘
No.’

‘
Come on, I’ll put you to bed for a bit.’

In my bedroom I fall on the bed and lie on my side and groan.

‘
Fuck, Billie, the room is spinning.’

‘
It’s not really.’

I close my eyes and I feel Billie lie down beside me.

‘
I miss that kid,’ she says and hiccups.

My heart does a little somersault. ‘Me too.’

‘
He has the clearest, sweetest eyes. You could dive in and drown in them.’

‘
Yeah.’ I smile to think of them. ‘I think of them as pieces of sky boiled down to fit into his irises.’

‘
And he has this great cartoon chuckle.’

‘
Cartoon chuckle? He has a great laugh.’

‘
Oh God, don’t you go all “my son’s poo’s a better color than yours” on me now.’

My laughter is both drunken and sad.

‘
I never wanted children until Sorab,’ she says.

That sobers me. We are both silent for a while. My limbs feel heavy and my head feels odd.

‘
What the hell am I doing, Billie? Getting drunk at a time like this?’

‘
Nothing. It was a bad idea of mine. Just go to sleep.’

‘
Big stinking pile of smug. That was me.’

‘
Stop it.’

‘
Things between me and Blake are not good.’

I feel her body stiffen. ‘Did you argue?’

‘
No. That’s just it. All the passion is gone from our relationship.’

Her body relaxes. ‘You’re a silly muffin, Lana,’ she chuckles.

‘
You don’t understand, Bill,’ I insist.

‘
When he comes back tomorrow, tell him you went to bed with me and we’ll see how far banker boy’s passion has fallen.’

I feel her hand come around my waist and her body spooning mine. Her big new boobs push into my back. They feel warm and firm and not uncomfortable. ‘Thanks, Billie,’ I mutter and wriggle closer to her. Almost immediately I feel myself slipping into sleep.

Hours later I feel Billie’s hand being removed and I half-open bleary eyes. My head is throbbing. Blake smiles at me.

‘
You’re home early,’ I mumble.

‘
And what a lucky thing I am.’ He carries me to the spare room, tucks me under the duvet and climbs in beside me.

‘
Nobody gets to sleep with my little angel except me,’ he whispers and spoons my body exactly as Billie had.

Victoria Jane Montgomery

I lie on my bed and look at the moonless night and desperately wish the phoenix would come to me. There is no more peace for me since I found out that Blake is my half-brother, and I can’t have the revenge I had so carefully planned. When I think of what he has done to me, my blood boils.

Once I loved him. Now I want nothing more than my revenge. I keep dreaming that I am pouring boiling oil into Blake’s bitch’s belly button. She screams like crazy as her skin peels and her flesh and fat bubbles and cooks like a piece of steak on a grill.

God, I hate her so much.

If only the phoenix would come again to me. I can ask it for its blessing. For I am frightened. I feel that something strange is happening to me. I hear the sounds of knives being sharpened in my head and I’m afraid I am losing my grip on my sanity. Perhaps it is because I am locked up here with all these crazies that I am becoming one too.

There are voices in my head now.

Every day these disembodied voices grow stronger and more relentless. They madden me with their harsh cackles and calls for revenge. They want blood. Blake’s blood. I no longer dare attend group sessions. Fortunately, the policy here is that it is not compulsory. I dare not talk to anyone. What if I lose control and one of the voices takes over?

All of a sudden I hear a voice, a sweet, lost child voice. The questing innocence beguiles me, irretrievably draws me to her. She is in direct contrast to the usual threatening, sordid, obscene, and often downright menacing voices I am forced to listen to. I listen out for the unspoiled new voice and realize that all the other voices seem to have hung back.

The lovely new voice thrusts forward eagerly. I embrace it with all that I am. Perhaps I will be all right. Perhaps this new voice will keep me safe and guide me to the right path. Perhaps the phoenix sent this voice to me. Immediately I feel stronger.

You can’t trust anybody
, it says in its uniquely fresh and wonderful voice.

I nod enthusiastically.

And you can’t give up on divine plans.

I nod again.

The phoenix has sanctioned them.

Of course the phoenix did. I listen intently as the beautiful voice elaborates on what must be the truth of the matter.

Blake must die just as you planned—a car crash on his way home from the hospital after signing over all his rights to the Barrington fortune. Then it will be the turn of his bastard child to die.

Afterwards, as planned, we will pay a little visit to the lying, cheating, cock-sucking cunt he married…and watch her die, slowly and painfully.

Blake Law Barrington

She comes toward me, her eyes huge, her face pale and drawn, and I feel a stab of guilt. When I found her she was bursting with life, an innocent thing in an orange dress. Look how careless I’ve been. Look what I’ve done to her.

‘
What is it?’ I ask, holding her. She seems so small, her bones so breakable. She was not always like this, was she? No. Once she fought me on her terms.

‘
Blake,’ she calls.

‘
What is it?’

She swallows hard.

‘
Tell me?’

‘
Oh, darling. You don’t really want me anymore, do you?’

‘
What?’

‘
I know you love me, but you don’t desire me anymore.’

I shake my head. I will never understand women. How they can be so intuitive and so dense at the same time. I run a finger down her beautiful, beautiful nose to her plump lips. I remember the first time we kissed. I remember how they looked when that fucking pervert abused her at the party. I remember them when she was laughing at that drug dealer party she invited me to, and I remember them when she told me on our honeymoon that she was my captive slave. Seems so long ago. So much has happened. I wish I could go back. I can’t. Here and now is what I have.

‘
Lit matches,’ I whisper.

‘
What?’ she asks.

‘
That night I met you I thought your eyes were like lit matches. So blue. The impression of something cool and yet it’ll burn your fingers.’