Possession of Souls (7 page)

I sat in a bubble bath with suds up to my chin, feeling like a complete baby while Vance rested on the floor, leaning against the rough stone wall by the door. 

He insisted he would watch over me while I got cleaned up first, not wanting to join me in case Damien made another appearance.

I tried to hurry so he could get in, but he was having none of it, insisting I take my time.  I decided to give into his wishes if it were so important to him.  He’d been through a lot both emotionally and physically today.

He watched me in silence, his eyes never leaving as I cleaned myself and washed my hair out.

“I can’t fathom what he could possibly need you to do,” he said out-of-the-blue, causing me to look up. 

“Me either.”

“The only thing I’m sure of is that he’s up to no good.”

I figured that was obvious.

“I won’t leave you, you know?” he said looking at me pointedly.  “Whatever it is he wants you to do, I’m coming with you.”

“Vance,” I said with warning in my voice as I shook my head.  “You can’t do anything to rock the boat.  I don’t want to give him any reason to break his end of the bargain.  I need to know you and my dad are going to be safe.”

He snorted in disgust, heat creeping into his eyes, and an angry flush crept over his skin.

“I hate feeling this way, Portia,” he complained, dragging a hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture.  “I’m completely useless.  It’s like I’m a helpless little boy.”

I realized his pride was suffering, and my heart broke for him.  I knew it must’ve been terribly difficult to see his father with all this strength and power and know it rightfully belonged to him.

“Would you hand me that towel, please?” I asked, rising so I could get out of the sunken tub.

“No,” he sighed.  “Just relax for a while.  You need it.”

“Vance, I can’t relax with you sitting there all covered in blood.  Now hand me the dang towel!” I snapped, and he looked at me in shock before breaking into a wide grin, laughing.  “What?” I griped, totally confused by his bizarre reaction.

“I do believe this is the first time I’ve been ordered about by an angry, naked, woman covered in bubbles,” he replied, getting up to grab one of the large fluffy towels off the shelf.

“You’re such an idiot,” I said with a roll of my eyes, lifting my hand out so he could help me climb from the water without slipping.

“That may be true,” he said, wrapping the towel around my body carefully, before hugging me to him.  “But I’m your idiot,” he added with a smile.  He leaned in to kiss me lightly on the forehead.

“And that’s a fact I couldn’t be more thrilled about,” I responded, unable to keep myself from catching his infectious grin.  “Now get yourself into the tub.  It’s my turn to stand guard.” I gave him a playful shove away from me and moved toward the closet.

“Hey,” he called after me. 

“Yes?” I looked at him over my shoulder.

“I like it when you’re bossy.” He gave me an appreciative grin, glancing over my scantily clad form.

“I know,” I replied, reaching up with a hand to flip a strand of my wet hair behind me and turned to continue into the closet.

“What do you mean, you know?” He laughed.

“I mean, I know,” I called back matter-of-factly.  “I’ve discovered there’s nothing about me Vance Mangum doesn’t absolutely adore.”  I bit my lip, smirking as I waited for him to reply and was quickly rewarded with a loud burst of laughter.

“Touché, baby,” he said, and I peeked back at him, smiling broadly.  He took a step toward me and then paused, looking down at his blood crusted body.  He let out a sigh, gave a shrug and just stared at me, locking gazes with me for several seconds.  “I love you,” he said instead, and I my breath caught because I could see all of his love for me shining through his eyes.

“I know.” I laughed, continuing my coy charade, and he joined in.  “Get into the tub you filthy guy.  Hop to it!”

“Yes ma’am!” He began to strip off his bloodied clothing, and I walked away, farther into the dressing room, still enjoying our playful banter.

I stood there listening to the sounds he made when he entered the tub and started to wash—splashing sounds reaching my ears as he moved about.  I was happy to feel his presence.  Having him near was so soothing to me, and right now, in this moment, everything seemed … normal, like we were living our everyday lives.

Suddenly, my world tilted in front of me, and I felt an overwhelming urge to start crying.

I hurried to the door of the closet, and I stepped in behind it, right before the first sound escaped my lips.  I tried to muffle my voice in the clothing, but I could still hear Vance moving around in the water too, which also further masked the noise I was making.

My body trembled as all the grief and fear I felt earlier came crashing through me, unable to be held back or ignored any longer.

I wasn’t strong enough for all this.  I was too weak, and Damien was going to win.  He was going to take everything I loved about my life away from me, and the pain was unbearable, to the point of being excruciating. 

The lives of the people I cared most about were in my hands, dangling precariously on a promise which I had no idea if I would actually be able to fulfill.   I was a stupid, stupid, girl for every believing I could stand up to someone the likes of Damien Cummings.

I sank to my knees in the small closet space and buried my face in my hands allowing my tears to wrack my body with violent shudders.  I was powerless—and I completely succumbed to my anguish, letting it shred my soul into tiny pieces.

The violence of my sobs nearly had me convulsing, and I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.  It was making me dizzy, sick, and nauseous.

And then he was there, wrapping his arms around my waist.  He crooned my name as he pulled me close, allowing me to bury my head against his wet chest.  He held me as I wept into his fresh smelling skin, and I clawed at him in desperation, needing to feel the warmth of his living flesh under my fingers as I tried to hug him even tighter to me.  I wanted to melt into him, be a part of him, and make him a part of me, something which could never be separated ever again.

Vance sensed my need, pressing kisses into my hair, nuzzling against my head with his.  He whispered comforting endearments until the emotion burning between us was more than either of us could handle.

“Portia, I love you,” he said.  He lifted my chin so he could look into my swollen eyes.

All of his worry and concern played over his face, and I threw my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to press hard against his mouth.

He answered me with a fierceness that was all consuming, like a man who was lost and without direction.  I knew he felt exactly the same way I did, which was both comforting and terrifying.

I couldn’t get him close enough, and I demanding more.  He answered my call by dipping to pick me up into his arms and carried me out to the bed.

The over exaggerated sound of someone clearing their throat woke us with a start. I reflexively yanked the covers to my chin when Vance quickly sat up next to me, even though I was appropriately dressed in a semi-modest nightgown.

Damien was sitting at an ornate, wooden dining table, which had appeared from who-knows-where, and he had a large breakfast spread out in front of him with place settings for three people.

“You son-of-a-….” The rest of Vance’s words were drowned out as he sent a large fireball rolling towards Damien.  It slammed into the dining table, blowing it to smithereens. 

I lifted my hands in a shielding motion from the missile-like shrapnel that went flying through the air, and I screamed.

Vance was instantly out of the bed, standing over Damien who was now lying on the floor, bloodied and covered with large protruding projectiles and food.  He reached down and grabbed Damien by the collar snatching him closer.

“Don’t you ever touch my wife again!” he yelled, contorting into his demon features, and he sank his teeth into Damien’s neck, ripping a chunk from his throat just as Damien had done to him.

Damien gurgled as the blood sprayed from his neck—a panicked expression passing over his face in the few seconds it took for the Awakening to repair the wound once again.

“I might not be able to kill you, but I can still give you pain,” Vance added.  He shoved one of the larger wooden shards farther into Damien’s chest, causing him to jerk in agony.  He stepped away from his father, and I could tell he was enjoying watching him suffer.

Damien slowly climbed to his feet and began plucking out the items which were sticking from him with a grimace.

It was amazing to see the magic move through his body, working to push some of the smaller objects out of his skin while he worked at extracting others.

He looked at Vance.  “I suppose I had that coming,” he said nonchalantly, and this inflamed Vance even more.

I hurried off the bed, rushing to his side and placing what I hoped was a calming hand on his shoulder.

“No more,” I whispered, wanting to protect the situation from escalating any further.  “You’ve made your point.”

“I agree,” Damien said, looking between the two of us with a pained, but also amused, expression.  “If you’ll excuse me for a bit, I will be back shortly.” He turned sharply and moved across the room looking stiff as he walked.  When he reached the wall he waved his arm, and a door appeared.

He opened it, revealing someone standing on the other side as he stepped through.  The individual closed it behind him, and the wall went back to its previous appearance.

Vance turned to look at me and grinned.  “Behold, the door,” he said triumphantly.

“Behold, the guard on the other side of the door,” I reminded him, before growing incredibly angry.  “What exactly did you think you would accomplish with that little display?”

His face clouded over immediately.  “Don’t lecture me, Portia,” he said, brushing past me brusquely.  “I did what I had to do.”

“Which was what?  Enraging him to the point of killing you off again?  Are you really that desperate to die?  I think he’s proven he’s willing to go to any length to get what he wants.  If you get in his way then he’ll just eliminate you!  Don’t be stupid, Vance!”

He turned on me, his eyes flashing red, and he shoved his finger next to my face.

“No! You quit being stupid,” he yelled at me and I took an involuntary step backward.  “He tried to take something from me that’s mine and mine alone.  He was taunting me with it and if I didn’t answer him, then there would’ve been nothing to stop him from doing it again.  This is all part of his crazy little mind game he’s playing with me.  He’s testing me to see how far he can push, and he’s using you as a pawn to do it!  Quite successfully, I might add!”

He was fuming, and I realized in that moment how close we’d grown over the last few days because of the trials we faced together.  He’d been most attentive to me, like the Vance of times gone by, and I had taken the change for granted, overlooking the demon tendencies which he still ruled from.

He was terrified of losing me to someone else, and it was uniting us against a common goal, but there was still a hot headed demon brewing just beneath the surface.  I had to give him kudos for holding it together as well as he had been.

But the second I questioned him, he turned on me.  Suddenly, I felt very lonely.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, wanting to diffuse the situation, and I walked away from him.  I kept moving across the large cavernous space until I was past the base of the altar, going to sit on one of the steps on the far side, leaning my head back against the stone. 

I was too tired to fight anymore … too tired to do anything really.  I just wanted to crawl into the bed and close my eyes and never wake up again.  Or better yet, wake up and have all of this be some kind of horrible nightmare.  I wanted my life back.  My life with Vance and my family around me, the one which had previously shown so much promise before the whole world had crumbled into insanity.

Closing my eyes, I cursed the day I found out I was a witch.  What a naïve girl I’d been!  I thought magic was fun and cool.  I didn’t see it for the evil it could be twisted into, and I desperately wished I could give it all back—tell them I didn’t want it somehow.

Forcing myself to be truthful, I did acknowledge if it hadn’t been for the magic Vance and I probably would’ve never gotten together.  That hurt.  I couldn’t imagine my life without him.  I needed him in any way, shape, or form I could get because I loved him.  Having him with me was like having air to breathe … he completed something within me.

I heard his steps a moment before he rounded the corner, staring down at me.  His eyes were still red, and he glared at me.

“I don’t like it when you walk away from me,” he stated flatly.

“Well, I didn’t want to argue with you,” I explained, and his look softened a bit, but not much.

He regarded me with an irritated gesture before speaking in clipped tones.  “I need more blood.”

“I figured as much.  Here.” I held my arm out.  He hadn’t fed from me since I helped him regenerate.  I knew he would be getting hungry.

He sat next to me and took my wrist, biting into it, drinking several large swallows before pulling away.

“Why’d you stop?” I asked as he continued to hold my wrist, looking at it.

“Because you need your blood too.”  He sighed, leaning back to rest his head on the stone against mine.  “I’ve been thinking about things.  I’m going to ask Damien to bring me blood to drink from now on.”

“What?” I gasped turning to look at him in surprise.  “You can’t be serious.  You have no idea where he could be getting it from.  It could even be my dad’s!”  I was completely horrified.

“All I know is I don’t care whose it is, as long as it isn’t yours,” he replied.

I jerked my arm back from him.  “This is ridiculous!” I shouted.  “I’ll not have you risking someone else when I’m right here.  My blood is stronger and more powerful than any other you can drink, and you can’t turn me either.  Why would you even consider this?”