MIDNIGHT DIVINE (The Helio Trilogy Book 1) (19 page)

My voice cracks when I try
to speak and comes out in a rasp when I whisper, “Never.” Then, he disappears.

He’s not coming back. I
need to make a decision. If I fake my submission, just to get out of here, will
he be able to tell? I’m so weak now. I’ll die if I don’t try.
I crumple to the cold
damp
floor again. A tear
spills down my cheek and puddles on the earth beneath my neck as I wait for
death to come. At some point of the eternity in the dark, I start speaking to
myself. Nonsense. I can’t sift through my thoughts in logical order, and I
can’t keep my eyes open because I’m so weak. Hours must have passed. I feel
Beleth’s sinister presence. I crack my eyes open and see his mouth moving, but
no words come. I close my eyes again, but not before I see him smile at me. I
laugh in hysterics, raspy and wheezing—my mind's so gone I'm becoming rabid. My
body becomes a leaf floating in an ocean, but I'm beyond reason and caring. I
let the darkness take over.

The silent darkness is
penetrated by a rhythmic drip. I can't see, only hear. A gut wrenching scream
pierces the air. It's deep and masculine. Then, warm liquid splashes across my
face, and the taste of copper is evident on my lips.

I gasp for air in jarring
awareness of water being poured over my head. I come to as comprehension grasps
my mind. My breathing is labored and causes my lungs to cramp. The chains
around my wrists are suspending me in the air as my limp body hangs with my
toes dragging the ground. The shackles at my feet are gone. Beleth stands in
front of me in his impeccable black suit with hands behind his back and eyes
glowing a vibrant red in the darkened room. It’s another cell, but it's much
larger. The ruffling of feathers comes from behind me.

“You are resilient, little
one. I will give you that, but your stubbornness may have killed you. So, I
hav
e been forced to take matters into my own hands,” he
points out.

He’s not going to let me
die. This is where the real fun begins.
“What do you want?” I mumble through my dry lips.

“It is not what I want. It
is what you need. What you need is to prove to me you are ready to be freed.”

“What are you talking
about?”

With a sweep of his arm,
Beleth steps to the side and reveals another person suspended from his wrists
against the far wall. He’s out cold, head hanging in defeat.

“Trey?” My eyes shoot open
as I realize his chest is bleeding and bruises mar his ribs.

Beleth sneers at me
,
“Yes. He is a traitor. He was
meddling
and was too close to discovering your location. I thought
maybe you could help him.”

My eyes are wide open now,
and my arms ache and burn. “How am I supposed to help him when you won’t let me
go?” I plea.

“I may let you go. You only
need to answer a few questions first.”

Trey looks dead. He’s not
moving
. This is a trick. What information is he trying to get out of me that
he probably doesn’t already know?

“Let us begin.” He sets a
tentative pacing between Trey and me. “What is your name?”

I look to him in confusion,
“You know my name.”

“Answer the question or you
will suffer,” his eyes illuminate with flames on his last word, and I hear the
rustling of wings behind me again.

“You know my name!”
I squirm in the
air.

Beleth nods once to the
being
behind me. There's a whistle in the air and a loud
crack. Sharp, stinging, fire splits my shoulder open. I scream so loud it
deafens my own ears, causing them to ring as my vision threatens to abandon me.
Hot tears roll down my cheeks as my breath comes back to my lungs in rapid
gasps.

“What is your name?” he repeats
his question in that same irritating calmness, void of emotion.

He’s not going to let me
go. I can’t win this game. But I’ll give anything not to feel the whip at my
back again.
“Ivy Harris,” I pant.

“Who are your parents?”

Please don’t whip me again.
“Azrael and Lilith.”

Beleth steps so close all I
see are the flames in his eyes. “What did you say?”

“My parents. They’re Azrael
and Lilith,” I repeat, still breathless from the pain.

“Lies!” he roars and takes
a step back to nod at my punisher.

The whip slashes across my
back again, my spine arches in agony as my scream cracks the air.

“Who is your father?”
Beleth hisses through his gritted teeth.

“It’s not a lie. I was told
my father's Azrael.”

Trey’s chains rattle, and
our eyes meet. “Ivy!” he screams. I’m speechless and torn between getting to
him and trying not to get whipped again.

“Who told you this?” Beleth
pulls my chin back towards him.

“Don’t tell him anything,
Ivy! Don’t say anything!” Trey shouts.

The Duke whirls on Trey,
“Stay out of this
,
traitor! You worry
about what punishment you have coming to you.”

“Leave him alone!” I plea.

“Answer me.” Beleth’s fists
are clenched to his sides.

“The angels who were
protecting me,” I confirm in defeat.

Beleth nods again. This
time, my screams are accompanied by three lashes. My bloodied shirt falls to
the ground in shreds. I'm on the verge of passing out from the pain when Beleth
signals for my punisher to stop.

“I want their names and
their ranks,” he demands.

“Don’t do it, Ivy!” Trey
yells.

I can’t let him hurt my
friends. I’ll do anything. I need to get out of here and get Trey out too.
Anything.
“Alice Craig and Eric Strickland. I don’t know
what you mean by rank. They're Reapers,” I wheeze, tears soaking my face.

“Good girl,” he begins to
pace again. “I may have to pay them a little visit as well.”

“No! I’ll do anything you
want me to, just leave them out of this! Let Trey go! Let me help him! I’ll do
anything!” I plea with what strength I have left.

He seems to consider it,
looking between Trey and me. With the wave of his hand, my shackles open, and I
drop in a heap to the floor. I push up on my hands to look up at Beleth. He
holds a hand out to me, but I scoot back away from him and push myself up to
stand. My legs are weak and numb, and
I’m
barely able to hold
my weight.

He gestures towards Trey,
“You want to help your friend here?”

I nod. I’m in so much pain
I can’t speak anymore. I look over to see my punisher. He's bare chested with
soft brown wings resting behind his shoulders, and I’m confused by the tears in
his
gray
eyes. He has
brown hair tied back at his nape
and leather cuffs on his forearms.

Beleth steps closer to me
and holds out his hand again. This time it’s offering a dagger. I look to him
in question. “If you want to prove to me that you are ready, help your friend,
put him out of his misery.”

“What?” I whisper.

“Take the dagger. He is in
much pain. There is more that awaits him if you do not.”

I don’t doubt he will
torture Trey to his death instead. The thought crosses my mind to take the
dagger and impale Beleth with it, but I’m
too
weak. I don’t know
if I can manage it. I think,
I can’t do this
, as I hesitate before
taking the dagger from his outstretched palm with my own shaky hand. I grip the
hilt and stagger to Trey.

He looks at me with fear in
his eyes.
I don’t want to do this.
I brush his hair from his forehead
and caress his face. I feel the fear and love surging within him. “I can’t do
this, Trey,” my hand trembles on his cheek.

His voice becomes a mere
whisper to keep Beleth from overhearing, “It’s ok, Ivy. I would rather it be
you. I’m so tired. And it’s not forever. I can’t be killed. My essence will be
sent to Sheol. Lucifer will make sure I'm punished as well. I need you to do
this. Get on his side. Find his weaknesses. Find a way to get out of here. This
is your only way to do that. If I'm ever allowed back to the surface, I promise
to find you again. I won’t let you down a second time.”

“I’m so sorry, Trey. I never
should have come to Red Meadow. You wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t
for me.”

“I don’t regret it. I only
regret the way I treated you,” Trey’s confession is honest and touches my heart
as I truly forgive him in this moment.

“I know. You're forgiven,
Trey. I see the good in you. I know the sorrow you feel for what you are. You
were never given a choice. I wish you had a soul capable of redemption. Then,
maybe Paradise would await you instead.”

“The world's not that easy.
Do it, Ivy. Make it quick.”

“Thank you, Trey. For
everything you’ve done.” I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and press
my lips to his. I push all of my feelings into the kiss in hopes he’ll feel
what I feel for his friendship, the respect for his bravery, and my admiration
for the goodness in his heart even though he was forced to do wicked things.

A warmth emanates between
our lips. There's an intense strain from my chest as if my heart's being ripped
out. In shock of the sensation, I force it away to draw my thoughts back to the
present situation and what I have to do.
No more pain. I’m sorry, Trey.
Please forgive me.
Leaving my lips on his, I sweep the dagger deeply across
his throat, ensuring his death is swift. I step back. Trey’s eyes bulge as his
blood gushes from his neck and splatters my face, neck, and chest. Other than
the slice I made at his throat, his entire body's healed and left with a slight
golden illumination before it fades. I drop the dagger and fall to my knees,
heaving and sobbing for the loss of him.
I
killed him. He's dead.
I've never taken a life before, and the weight of it
churns in my stomach while it crushes me.
I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please
forgive me. Please forgive me.

Beleth steps into the
puddle of Trey’s warm blood growing in front of me. I can’t look at him. “You
did well, Lilim. Come, you will get cleaned up, eat
,
and rest in the comfort of your quarters. Tomorrow is
a new day.”

I don’t remember getting
back to my room from the dungeons. My mind's a blur from the last few days of
imprisonment. Beleth stands before me with his hands behind his back while
observing me in silence.

“I’d like to get cleaned up
now. Do you mind?” I know I'm testing him by giving him attitude. Yet, now that
I'm not in a cage, I have to know how far he'll let me push him.

“By all means. The lavatory
is there,” he
gestures
with the sweep of his hand
and takes a step back. I pull out another sports bra, underwear, tights and a
long sleeve shirt. Twisting in the direction he indicated, I find the entrance
to the bathroom and close the door behind me.

A rectangular stone tub
sits in the corner. Erected from the cobblestone ground, a slender silver spout
angles over the far corner of its edge. There's a large, gold-framed mirror tilted
against the wall beside the bathtub. Not wanting to look at myself, I turn my
back to the mirror and peel the remaining bloody clothes from my body in front
of the stone sink to my right. After filling the tub with lukewarm water, I
ease into it, wincing from the burning sting of my open lacerations.

As the stinging begins to
subside, my eyes sweep over beautiful crystal decanters with different shades
of liquids. There's nothing distinguishing what each bottle contains. Picking
up the first of the four bottles, I release the round stopper and inhale a
scent of roses. I pour a generous quantity into my palm and spread the silky
soap into a lather. The aroma sends me back to Evelyn's gardens. I scrub my
skin and hair, removing evidence of what I've done from my body while it
remains a stain on my
mind
.
Have I sealed my
fate with my sin? Was that Beleth's plan all along?
I find a soft, white
towel to dry off, and my body shakes as I dress. Taking a deep breath to calm
my nerves, I open the door to see Beleth hasn’t moved from where I left him.

“Do I have shoes?” I prompt
for the second time, hoping he doesn't shackle me again.

He walks to a dark walnut
armoire carved with intricate floral vines and reveals all of my shoes paired
together, lining each of its shelves. Grabbing a pair of socks from the dresser
beside me, I wonder why he's being so accommodating. I join him next to the
armoire and pick out a pair of black military style boots. “Thanks,” I mumble,
taking in his profile, trying to understand why I feel no fear standing so
close to my captor. Beleth appears caught off guard with my words as his brow
twitches so faint I might not have notice
d
if I hadn't been
studying the planes of his face. After pulling my boots on, I find Beleth
observing me again. “What?”

He squints his eyes, “You
are astonishing. You seethe with potent hatred, yet you are thanking me for a
small gesture of accommodation.”

I shrug, “I don’t
understand you either. First, you kidnap me and leave me for dead in a cave.
Now, you kidnap me and try to make me a guest after you've imprisoned me and
gave me no choice but to slaughter my friend.” I shake my head looking down and
shove my hands into the back pockets of my tights.

“You did him a great
service. If it wasn’t for you, my legion would have torn him to pieces for his
treachery. Come, you need to eat.” He turns away, and I follow him through the
threshold of the chamber.

Mounted torches light our
path as our footsteps echo with hollow thumps reverberating against the limestone
caverns. Trey’s pleading eyes spark in my vision at an unwanted frequency. I
restrain the tears in my eyes from betraying weakness and prefer to suffer the
burning lump in my dry throat. We descend a narrow corridor of cobblestone
steps, giving me the uneasy feeling I’m being led into another dungeon.

As the floor levels out, we
walk further down the
cavernous
corridor, and Beleth
pushes open a door to our right. There's a long oak table surrounded by
fourteen tall-backed matching chairs. Each chair is cushioned with black
leather, secured by smooth silver rivets. Large tapestries of vicious
fantastical creatures decorate the walls in dark hues. A bar opposite the
entrance shelves every whisky, rum, tequila, vodka, brandy, and absinthe you
can imagine. The glass bottles glisten from the two large candelabra
chandeliers illuminating the room over the dining table. Beleth paces to the
far end of the table and pulls a chair out. “Sit,” he commands.

I oblige him as he pushes
my chair back up to the table, keeping my hands under its surface to hide their
shaking. I don't want him to mistake my quivering for fear. It's pain. My back
is on fire, but I can feel its gradual healing manipulating my tender skin with
the sensation of being sewn together—a worn rag doll being repaired with
an invisible
needle and thread. I find myself searching for his
weaknesses as he moves to the opposite end to seat himself, giving me some much
needed distance from his menacing presence.

Beleth begins, “What do you
prefer?”

“I
prefer
to go
home.” I'm feeling stronger every second my wounds mend.

“That is not an option.
This is your home now. It would be in your best interests to acclimate yourself
quickly.”

Fear seeps into my bones,
and I put up a wall of sarcasm to hide my emotions, “Well under the
circumstances, I imagine you don’t get delivery.”

With the wave of his hand,
a wide variety of foods stretch
ing
across the span of
the table appear
s
with a ripple in the air. It's as if a heat
wave produced to food out of thin air. Some I've never seen before. He smirks
at my astonishment, “Does this satisfy you, Lilim?”

“How did you do that? Is
this food real?” I marvel.

“It is not an illusion, if
that is what you are asking.”

Picking up a blueberry, I
squeeze it between my thumb and forefinger to test its suppleness. I smell its
sweetness and eat
with
hesitance while wondering if it could have been
poisoned. I close my eyes, feeling it drop to my empty stomach. I begin to pick
fruit off of the table at random to eat while Beleth watches me from the other
side of the table.
What are you playing at?

“It occurs to me, Lilim,
that you have evolved significantly faster than has been anticipated.”

He knows. He watched me
heal Trey before I…
I nod my head as I
swallow. “I guess you could say that.”

“Tell me. What abilities
have you developed?”

“The usual, I guess.
Strength, the ability to heal faster, sight, taste, hearing.” I decide not to
tell him about healing Evelyn.

“Hmm… What of your gift
from your mother, your second sight? Has it become stronger?”

How does he know of all
this? Did Trey tell him?
“I don’t know if I do
have second sight. I mean, I thought my visions of you were omens, but it
turned out it was you torturing me in my sleep,” I give him a pointed look.

My captor tilts his head.
“You have had visions of me,” he repeats more as a statement than a question.

In his slight expression, I
know I've given him more information than I should have. “More like nightmares.
But now, I realize you were just getting into my head and taunting me in my
sleep.”

Beleth quirks an eyebrow at
me and rights his head, “I do not possess the ability to enter or alter your
dreams, young Lilim.”

I'm surprised, but
irritated with him for his unrelenting name for me—‘Lilim’. “Please, stop
calling me that.”

“It is what you are.”

“
I have a name.”
You’re pushing it, Ivy. Reign it in.

“Understood.”

Understood? What game is he
playing at now?

“What of your ability to
heal others? When did it present itself?” he prods.

I feign ignorance, “You
mean what happened to Trey? I did that?”

His smirk makes me think he
knows I'm lying. “Yes. That was you. Have you never healed before?”

“No. I thought it was just
something that happened when beings like him died.”
Lie. Play nice.

“Hmm... You would be wrong.
You are what caused his body to mend. It will be a good skill to have in your
position. I wonder if it is a gift your father was able to pass on to you. Your
mother does not have an ability as such,” he considers aloud.

“Oh.” The silence is
awkward between us. I know he's expecting my complete compliance. He wants to
be my master. As much as I loathe the thought, I decide it'll be my best route
at finding a way to escape him. Otherwise, he'll throw me back in the dungeon
to starve. “May I go back to my room? I’m really tired.”

“Cassius! Beckett!” Beleth
calls out. Two bare chested angels walk through the door. The angel on the left
is tall and broad with shoulder length chestnut brown hair tied back at his
nape. His eyes are gray, and I noticed leather cuffs at both of his wrists.
He's the angel who punished me with the whip in the dungeon. The angel beside
him is lean, just as tall with the same brown shade of hair, only shorter, and
there are leather cuffs around his wrists as well. The only difference between
them is their build and the length of their hair.
Twins?

Beleth rises, “Follow me. I
will take you back to your quarters.”

We walk in the darkness of
the corridors back to my room. The Duke's two lackeys sandwich me between them
as we follow. Beleth opens the door and lets me enter my room as he remains
outside the threshold with the guards. “I will leave you to rest. Cassius and
Beckett will stand guard outside your door. Let them know if there is anything
you need.”

“Cigarettes?” I muse with
shyness to avoid the desperation in my tone.

The corner of his mouth
turns up, “They are on the mantle.”

I nod, and he closes the
door. I look to the fireplace, wondering who lit the logs while I was gone as I
hear the door click.
Shit. He just fucking locked me in, didn’t he? I need a
plan. How am I going to get out of here? I can’t even think straight. I need
sleep. In the morning, I’ll start planning my escape.

I swipe the pack of
cigarettes and a blue lighter from the mantle before sitting on the foot of the
bed to pull my boots off. My first inhale of smoke since I've been taken is a
new experience. My tastebuds are stronger, and I detect every distinct chemical
laced within the tobacco. It's a lovely compilation I make last while I gaze
into the fire to clear my thoughts. I flick the filter of the burned out
cigarette into the hearth before laying back on the bed. A tear runs down my
temple. I can’t hold my eyes open any longer.

A legion of Fallen angels surround
me with their raven black wings spread wide. In the middle of the room is a
rippling black pool of thick tar with a vile stench. I see myself from
another’s eyes in the room. It's silent. Ominous. I sit on a black throne,
elevated before them. I have wings, and they're as black as the tar before me.
They're spread out wide and commanding. Stoic. I hold a long torch in my right
hand.

Turning it upside down, I
use both hands to push the hilt down and snuff the flames. The white gown I'm
wearing is shrouded as the smoke rises from the ground. But the most disturbing
thing is the black tar seeping from my eyes as if they're tears. The entire
legion bows on one knee, and I detect tar dripping from their eyes as well.

I wake up shivering with a
cold sweat coating my body.
That couldn’t have been an omen. I won’t be like
them. I won’t lead them. Why was I crying?
I throw the covers back and
swing my feet to the floor. I pull a cigarette out of my pack and light it,
then lean forward with my elbows on my knees, letting my head drop.
Think,
Ivy. How are we going to get out of here? Maybe, if I play nice… no… play
along. Get on Beleth’s good side. Make him trust me. Make him think I’m on his
side. He’ll slip. Then, I’ll take my chance at taking him down. I can’t kill
him. He can’t die. Can he? I’ll have to trap him. But how and where can I trap
him that he can’t escape?

I jerk to attention at the
knock on my door. “Yes?” I call out.

“Your presence is being
requesting in the Dining Hall,” one of the guards calls from the other side of
the door.

“I’ll be right there.”
After pulling my boots on and plaiting my unruly raven locks over my left
shoulder, I open the door to find both guards with their backs against each
side of the door frame.

The guard to my right is my
punisher from the dungeons. He speaks without looking at me, “This way.”

I follow him with the second
guard behind me into the Dining Hall where the Duke's already waiting for me,
as well as a new cornucopia of food across the table.