Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 03 - Dark Legacy (22 page)

Before I could
make it to the car, something grabbed me from behind. I screamed and realized I
was leaving the ground. Ridge had me in his arms.

Being flown high
above the lights of Paris sounds like a romantic adventure, but I was terrified
beyond belief. All Ridge had to do was drop me. I clung to his neck with my
eyes shut tightly, too scared to open my mouth to ask him what was going on. He
landed on Danielle’s balcony and set me down on my feet.

“Why are you
doing this?!” I yelled at him once I felt steady again.

“Danielle needed
to see you right away. And we
don’t have time to argue.” He gestured
toward Danielle’s room, and for the first time, I saw anguish in his eyes. “She
called to me in my mind when I was out helping the others. She said I needed to
bring you here.”

I entered her
room. It was depressingly bathed in cold moonlight. Danielle’s eyes followed me
from her bed. Her breathing was labored, and she was sweating. My heart broke
for this poor girl, and I was outraged that Charmagne wasn’t here with her. I set
down my bag and sat at the edge of her bed.

“I’m sorry,” she
managed to say in a raspy voice. “I asked Ridge to go and get you. It was
faster that way.”

I reached for
her hand, to hold it, but she pulled away. “No,” she said. “I can’t risk you
healing me.”

“Oh, honey, your
mom said that you can’t be healed.”

“She’s not my
mother.”

“What? How is
she not—?”

“I …” She
stopped to take a deep, harsh breath. “I have to show you.”

“Show me? Show
me wh—?”

I was jolted
from reality just then. There was darkness at first, but then a quick flash of
a single image: Nadia, as I had known her, joy in her eyes, laughing at
something I could not see. The image went dark again. I heard Danielle’s voice
in French.

“Mother, do I
have a sister?”

Slowly, the
darkness dissipated, and there was a different setting before me, a different
time of day. Disoriented at first, I closed my eyes and opened them, expecting
to see Danielle’s room again, but I found myself still in this new place.

I was in an
open-air market in Paris. Charmagne was in front of me, clutching a bouquet of
flowers to her chest, staring at Danielle. Her eyes flitted with fear for a
second, but she quickly recovered, putting on a fake smile and laughing at her
daughter’s question. “A
sister
?  I think we would know if you had a
sister! Why on Earth would you ask something like that?”

“I just … I
don’t know. I’m sorry.”

The scene
shifted, turning to a collage of dreams that I had since moving back to
Louisiana: dreams of Walter Savoy; my mother in his cabin, pointing to a
picture; my mother pointing at the city of New Orleans; phone calls in my sleep
as someone from very far away tried to warn me about masks and tell me I had to
go to Paris. And it was here that I realized that voice was Danielle’s; she had
been calling me in my dreams.

And now the
dreams were from Jonathan’s point of view, terrified of the Dark Man who was
trying to kill Lyla; Noah, seeing his mother attacked by the Watcher; Miles
getting that mysterious call from Danielle in his dream.

The scene
changed.

I found myself
reliving one of the most horrific experiences I had ever had. I was back in New
Orleans, in the sculpture garden in City Park, running through the rain with
Nadia. But this time, I saw what happened after the nephil with the silver eyes
knocked me out.

Nadia was being
dragged into the thicket of shadows near the lagoon. He climbed on top of her,
clawing at her, biting her and—
oh God, her screams, her screams were
unbearable
.

Just as I felt
myself crying, the scene shifted again. 

I was near the Garden
of Hecate where Felix and I encountered the coven. It looked to be early
evening; the sun had already set, and the light was gray and cold. Charmagne stood
near the older blonde witch, the one who unleashed the demons upon us.

“I should take
you at your word?” said the witch and laughed. “You must think I am foolish. We
know what your intentions are and that you need both the grimoire and the Heart.
The Book of Avelina is rightfully ours as the heirs of Anseis, and here it will
stay, out of your hands and out of the hands of your angels.”

Charmagne’s eyes
turned cold. “I gave you that book on the condition you would help me when the
time came.”

“And I did. I
gathered the blood from the little girl so that you could have your answers.
That
was your one favor.”

“You know that
wasn’t it! The condition was to help me with the Heart when—”

“Yes,
when
!
You will never find it. I cannot wait that long, and neither can my coven. The
book stays with us. And do not bother us again.”

Charmagne stewed
in silence for a moment. “It’s a shame, Eloise. We could have so much power
together.”

Eloise laughed
again. “How can you be powerful if you let your angel rule you? We make our own
power. Now be gone with you! Do not show your face here again!”

The scene
shifted once more.

Danielle’s
bedroom was filled with sunlight, small dust particles dancing in the beams
coming from the window.

“You have to
promise,” she said. I turned around to see her on her bed, looking healthier,
but still sickly. Ridge was by her side, kneeling on the floor. His eyes showed
deep concern for her. They spoke in hushed voices.

“But if they can
make you better—”

“No. She made me
do all these horrible things.” She was on the verge of tears. “I can’t come
back from that.”

“There has to be
a way.”

“There is. If I
give my life for someone, my soul can be saved. I have to help them.”

“Why don’t you
just tell them when they come?”

“Because we need
to get the book and that Heart to Miles. He’ll know what to do, to stop the Nephilim.
Even if she doesn’t bring
him
back, you know the Nephilim are restless
and will strike anyway.”

Everything was
black again. My eyes and mind adjusted to my present time, with Danielle in bed
and Ridge kneeling on the other side, holding her hand. I stared at her,
confused.

“It was you? You
made us dream all of those things? That wasn’t really my mother coming to me?”

“I’m sorry.
Mother made me do it. She needed—” She stopped for a coughing fit. Her pale
face reddened as she wheezed. Ridge smoothed back her hair and patted her hand.
When she stopped, Ridge finished what she was going to say.

“Charmagne
needed you to get the Heart. She lied to Gretchen, saying that the coven was
going to use the grimoire against us, so she had her infiltrate them and take
the book. She sent her to get the Heart, too, but she never came back.”

“Charmagne?! Why
does she need these things? What’s she trying to do?”

“We don’t know,
but it has something to do with the Nephilim and the last Watcher. Danielle can
see every wicked deed Charmagne has done when she touches her. One of the last
things she saw was her conversation with the witches, telling them to attack
you all in the catacombs. She wanted to kill the others, but not you, because
she needed you. And tonight, she tipped them off so that they could escape
before the paladins showed up. As for why, we don’t know. Danielle cannot see
motives.”

Danielle
struggled to breathe, taking gasping breaths, her eyes wide with fright. I
reached for her, but Ridge pushed my hand away.

“No,” he said.
“She’s ready to go.”

“She’s just a
child. She doesn’t know what she wants.” I tried to say it with sympathy, but
it came out sounding harsh.

“Danielle looked
at Ridge with pleading eyes and said, “It’s time.”

He ignored me
and scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the balcony.

“Did you really
hear the voice of God calling you to Danielle?” I asked him.

He smiled, and I
think it was the first time I ever saw one on his lips. “Charmagne found me
with other Nephilim. I’ve done terrible, wicked things for her. But Danielle
saw something in me that I couldn’t: my humanity.
She
called to me. She
spoke to me in my dreams, telling me I’m not like the others, that I can
change. And when I saw what Charmagne was doing to her, I just wanted to
protect her.” His smile fell. “I believe I have failed.”

Danielle coughed
and wheezed. “You did … everything I asked.”

He kissed her
forehead.

“Where are you
taking her?”

“To her parents’
graves. She never knew them, but she wants to be with them.”

Before he took
off, Danielle tapped his shoulder and whispered something in his ear.

He looked at me.
“She said that the illusion will fall away when she passes. Do not be afraid.”

Before I could
ask what he was talking about, he flew up into the night sky with Danielle in
his arms, and I was left alone in her bedroom.

I sat there for
a few minutes, trying to piece everything together. Who were Danielle’s parents
and how were she and Nadia sisters? What did Charmagne want with the Heart and
the grimoire? Why did she need
me
to go underground to get the Heart?
Was she really the one who sent those masks to New Orleans and why? What Watcher
were they talking about?

Fifteen minutes
must have passed as I sat and thought. And then something peculiar started to
happen. It was dark in the room with just the moonlight coming in through the
window, so it was hardly noticeable at first. Slowly, the room began to look
dirtier, with small cobwebs appearing in the corners of the ceiling, spots on
the mirror of her dresser, dust on the furniture. Even the smell of dust wafted
from the bed covers.

I clutched my
backpack closely and went out into the hallway which was lit with several
sconces. The lovely wallpaper yellowed and peeled before my eyes. The carpet
became threadbare, and the window at the end of the hallway now had a long
crack in it and was covered in dust. The flames of the sconces flickered and
blew out, and more cobwebs appeared. My eyes took a second to adjust to the
little moonlight filtering in through the windows on either end of the hallway.

Making my way to
the stairs, I found the banister’s wood to be rotted and splintered. I felt I
was going mad as I descended the now creaking steps and found myself in the
foyer. The glorious chandelier hung sideways from the ceiling, and numerous
broken crystals were scattered on the dirty floor. More dust, cobwebs and
cracked glass on the furniture and windows, and the stench of mildew filled my
nostrils.

I shook badly,
afraid to take another step, wishing Miles and Noah were with me, even wishing
for Ridge to return. And thinking of Ridge reminded me of the last thing he
said: “The illusion will fall away when she passes.”

I realized then
that it had been an illusion from the beginning. Charmagne had been using
Danielle to invade our dreams, to plant suggestions, and to disguise this very
house.
This
is what the house truly was, not the grand chateau I saw
when I arrived. And this is why Danielle was sick. Paladins weaken when they
use their power. Charmagne had been forcing Danielle to project this illusion
for us for so long, and it had slowly been killing her.

I headed for the
door, intent on running away, anywhere but this house, away from this horrible
reality that felt like a nightmare. Before I reached the door, a withered hand
grabbed me. I whipped around to see an old woman with thin white hair and
sunken cognac eyes, and I realized it was Charmagne. It was her true age, but
she was no longer beautiful. Her wicked deeds—taking the life force of the
good—robbed her of all beauty. Her skin was graying and withered and clung to
her skull.     

Before I could
react, she was already draining my power. I fought back, trying to drain her
life force, but she was too strong for me, and only moments later, I collapsed
onto the foyer floor.

***

I awoke feeling
groggy, finding myself in a decaying bedroom with black curtains but no windows
and an old-fashioned king sized canopy bed draped in dusty, rotted burgundy
velvet. I was tied to a chair in the corner of the room that was lit with black
candles throughout. Lying on the bed was either a Watcher or a Nephil. His dark
purple wings were fanned out, stretching over the boarders of the bed. He was
asleep—no, dead. His face was ghostly pale; no life resonated from his being.
Near the bed was an altar covered with black cloth.

“He looks almost
peaceful, doesn’t he?”

I swung my head
around to see Charmagne standing in the doorway. She looked longingly at him
for a moment and then at me. Her eyes studied me. “I suppose it is a shock to
see me this way, no?”

“You deserve to
be that ugly,” I said. “How could you do that to Danielle?”

“If she could
have only held on a few more hours, I wouldn’t have needed her to alter your
reality of this house. Danielle’s death is unfortunate, but I’m afraid it’s a
sacrifice that was needed.”