Cursed by Diamonds (A Dance with Destiny Book 1) Read online

  “Yesss, but we’ve never failed to return without his desired maiden, either. He will surely bind us in the sun for that as well.”

  “We’d best decide now. Soon it will be dawn.” The wraith shuddered. “The pain will be horrible.”

  “Yesss. We’ll go back, tell Master what his fiendish little trophy has done to trick him. Perhaps he’ll be so angry with her he won’t bother with punishing us.”

  “We will explain what has befallen us this night. Let him decide what we shall do next. If he wishes for one of these maidens, or both, we will return at the very moment of sunset.”

  “Yesss. Let us hurry then, before it’s too late.”

  The Shadow Wraiths flew out the door and disappeared into the waning night.

  It was quite some time before the trio fully regained the use of their arms, legs, and will. Jenevier collapsed, bursting into tears. Alastyn ran to his new love, scooping her up in his arms.

  “You are safe now, Milady. I have you.”

  “It failed,” she whispered, shakily. “The spell didn’t work. What shall I do now?”

  “It did not fail,” Jezreel said. “We’re still here, are we not? And look at your hand. The mark is gone. We have another full day to figure out what we’ll do next. Don’t give up hope, sweet sister. Marlise has the answer here, somewhere. Now we have the time we need to find it.”

  “No,” Alastyn said. “If Marlise had known any more about this mark, she would have written it in the same journal. We need to spend this precious time looking elsewhere for answers.”

  “You didn’t even know Marlise,” Jezreel snapped. “Now, we’re supposed to believe that you would be the one to best know how she conducted her business?”

  “Enough, please.” Jenevier rubbed her temples and sighed. “The two of you are driving me mad.”

  Alastyn and Jezreel glared bitterly at one another, but spoke not another word. Jenevier went into the parlor, picked up Marlise’s purple book, and slammed the bedroom door before locking herself in.

  *****

  Jezreel stoked the oven and started making breakfast just as the first rays of the morning sun began to trickle into their tiny kitchen.

  Alastyn kept busy—mumbling all the while—by putting away the many books, scrolls, and candles still littering the parlor floor. The preceding night had taken an extreme toll on them all. Sleep would have been the most desirable thing right now, but time wasn’t on their side. He decided to keep his distance from Jezreel while still helping as best he could. When he smelled the alluring aroma of hot sweet cakes, he determined to guard his tongue so that his hunger might be sated.

  Bowing his head in defeat, Alastyn stepped back into the kitchen.

  “You were right…” Jezreel whispered.

  Alastyn sucked in a sharp breath. He dared not utter a sound.

  Jezreel turned from the cakes, speaking to him in barely more than a whisper. “I was jealous. Am I not beautiful as well? Jenevier doesn’t even desire the attention she receives from men.” She blew out a sigh. “It’s not her fault though. She’s the most sincere, genuine, innocent person I have ever known. That’s why I love her so. And why everyone else does as well.” She quickly wiped away her silent tears. “But after this night, I no longer envy Jenevier the attention she always receives. Now… well, now I pity her. Now, I understand why her mother and aunt always tried to warn her… with great beauty comes an even greater curse.”

  Alastyn stood, speechless, in the doorway.

  Jezreel hadn’t wanted him to answer. She only needed to say what was on her heart and be done with it.

  The sound of rattling plates caused him to jump slightly. His mind had been lost in her sad words.

  “If you don’t mind…” she whispered. “…will you please go get Jenevier? I know she’s exhausted. How could she not be? But she’ll be needing food for strength more than sleep before this day is over.”

  He softly pecked on the door, wiggling the knob. It was locked.

  “Jenevier, Jezreel’s prepared something special. It will help build your strength, Princess. Will you not join us? Please, come eat.”

  There was no answer, not even a stir. Alastyn returned to the kitchen where the other girl sat waiting.

  “Can we not give her a few more minutes, Jezreel? Fear has completely drained her.”

  “I know. I was terrified but not worried, not for myself. I knew I didn’t have the mark.” Jezreel shuddered. “I can’t even begin to imagine what was going through her mind… when those witches pulled her hands from that cauldron.”

  Alastyn sighed. “Gratitude to the gods, it was gone.”

  “Did you notice if it returned with the dawning of the sun?”

  “No, I didn’t.” He stared, unseeing, out the window as he spoke. “She was already in her room when the sun came up. Not that it would matter much now, anyway.”

  “How so?”

  “You heard those witches same as I, Jezreel. They’re coming back here tonight. They will take Jenevier with them… mark or no.”

  They ate in silence. Jezreel knew what he said was true, but her mind fought wildly for another answer. When she couldn’t force down another bite, she let out a sigh and stood up.

  “Well, better go wake sleeping beauty. Time is wasting.”

  “I’ll get started on these dishes,” Alastyn said numbly.

  “Well, now. We may end up getting along after all.” Jezreel smiled as she headed for the bedroom. “Wake up, Princess. Time to rise and shine, sleepy head,” she chimed, happily.

  There was no response. She tried the knob. It was locked.

  “Jenevier you have to get up now. We haven’t been granted much time to figure this out.”

  She knocked a little louder.

  Alastyn walked up in time to see the worry beginning to show on Jezreel’s face.

  “She’s not normally hard to wake. Not like this. She never shirks stuff off. I thought it was odd that she slept. I figured she just retreated to her room because she was angry and upset with our incessant bickering.” Jezreel was now pleading, “Jenevier, open this door right now. You’re scaring me.”

  Alastyn began banging on the door and yelling as well. It was no use.

  “She’s bolted it,” Jezreel said flatly. “There’ll be no getting in from this side.”

  “Then…” Alastyn’s whisper was pained, worried. “…how else are we to get in?”

  Her eyes widened. “The window.”

  They ran around the house, smiling when they saw that the window had been left wide open.

  “Help me up,” Jezreel said, reaching for his shoulders. “I’ll unlock the door.”

  Alastyn practically threw her through the window and ran back inside. When he swung the door open, Jezreel was standing in the middle of the room holding a quivering piece of parchment.

  When she looked up, he saw the tears running down her face.

  “She’s gone…”

  Chapter 12

  Merodach

  (MHER-ah-doc)

  Prince Merodach was anxious to get his hands on his new prize. He had heard the horrid shrieks of his wraiths in the distance. At the familiar sound of their howls, the Prince’s mouth began to water. His sadistic mind ran wild with erotic deviation. Such things he had in store for this young maiden, the likes of which she could never conceive. He wouldn’t take her immediately, no. He wanted to tease her. Perhaps he would even try to romance her for a time. He had yet to decide exactly what his first move would be. Merodach was leaving that deliciously epic little decision for the moment he laid eyes upon her lovely face again. Soon, she would be his… forever.

  There was something he found intuitively arousing about this particular maiden. Strangely, the Prince found himself desperately wanting her to want to stay with him, to choose to be his. It wasn’t so much that her beauty surpassed all other women. She was quite lovely, yes. Alas, she wasn’t the fairest maiden he had ever seen. There was something e
lse about her. Yes, her innocence was enchanting. Yet he had stolen innocence before. Yes, her smile put him in mind of the dawn of creation. But that wasn’t it either; he had been blessed to see many beautiful smiles during his adventurous games. Yes, he was definitely turned on by her complete lack of interest in him. He smiled at the memory of her defiant air at the Life Celebration.

  He chuckled softly. Little does she know… I have taken women kicking and screaming many times before. I quite like it, actually. He sighed. But that’s not the whole of it either… not with this one.

  It wasn’t just one thing about this particular maiden, it was everything. Merodach could literally feel a different person lurking inside her. He imagined a wicked little demon hid just below her angelic façade, anxiously waiting for him to release her. This earth changing awakening would alter the course of their world—leave her begging for him as he already begged for her. Jenevier became to him as mystery incarnate. And his cruel black heart ached from that insatiable desire.

  A nagging little thought crept into his mind. Maybe, just maybe, his infatuation for this maiden was simply born from his own vanity. She had no interest in him, it was true. Had she not made that painfully obvious at the celebration? But Merodach instantaneously crushed the vile little notion. From whatever beginning and to whatever end there was to be, this young maiden’s destiny was now and forever, changed.

  “When my wraiths deliver her, she will still be frozen from their touch. Her skin will be icy, painful. Perhaps I should draw a luxurious bath for my new love. I will show great concern for her every comfort. Especially after those horribly nasty old witches just kidnapped her and all.” His smile was menacing as he spoke aloud the little games he would play with Jenevier. “No, that’s no good. Such amateur things will never work with her. I’ve already caused her great pain and worry. She may be innocent and childlike, yet she is no fool. No. I will have to be much more cunning with this delicious little angel.”

  He heard the wraith’s howls drawing closer through the dark.

  What are those vile witches doing? They will permanently deafen the girl. Those fools!

  His anger was at full mast when the dark Prince reached the window, straining his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of their approaching ghostly forms.

  Their great fear had been what caused their sickening cries to rise, until they saw his imposing silhouette from afar.

  “The master waits anxiously for our return.”

  “Yesss. We have taken too long. His wrath is growing. I can feel it from here.”

  When Merodach was satisfied the wraiths had sensed his extreme displeasure, he retreated from the window and went into his private quarters. He felt their ghostly auras finally enter the palace.

  He took a deep breath, composing himself. He didn’t want the girl to see how anxious he was for her. He kept telling himself he must remain calm and distant, as always.

  When the Prince was satisfied with his controlled demeanor, he swung both doors open wide. Entering with such grace and poise, his very essence filled the entire room.

  It took a long moment for Merodach’s mind to become adjusted to what he was seeing… and what he was not. Only the two Shadow Wraiths’ tremulous forms knelt before him. There was no quivering, beautiful maiden to be found.

  He anxiously scanned the plush room.

  She cannot be hiding… she should still be frozen… terrified.

  But for all of his searching and wanting, the maiden wasn’t there. His black heart sank.

  He noticed then that his wraiths were looking up at him, looking up in utter horror. They began spewing hideous pleas for mercy. He paid no regard to their piteous cries as he strode between them, on to the distant window. He did not flinch nor did he turn his gaze from the empty night, as they shrieked and screamed out all that had happened.

  They told him of the three friends, the cauldron, the absence of a mark. They recounted in detail about the handsome boy and how the two girls looked so very much alike.

  After their ramblings had ceased, he bade them leave. He did not turn toward them. He simply waved his hand.

  “Leave me now.”

  They gratefully fled his presence, retreating back to the safe haven of their terrible Shadow Realm.

  Merodach remained still. The disheartened Prince absently reached up, touching a single tear that had begun its lonely journey down his perfect cheek. He looked at the moistened fingertip with astonishment, as if the tear itself was something strange and foreign.

  “What is this?”

  Anger shook him. He spun around to face the empty room, chest heaving with fury. Yet, as quickly as rage had overtaken him, it slipped away. He knew somewhere deep inside his demented heart… it was breaking.

  He hated this strange feeling. Alas, it was too powerful to be ignored—the feeling of loss.

  “What a wretched thing this is.”

  This new sensation was bizarre yet intriguing. He gave in to it and let himself feel, just feel, for what was perhaps the first time since his youth. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, no, but it was a new experience. And he so loved new experiences.

  Merodach numbly walked into his room, falling across the bed. He lay on his back, staring at the intricate mural of the heavens painted upon the domed ceiling. More tears came, slowly but steadily, until his vision was blurred. These salty drops of pain disgusted him, and yet comforted him at the same time.

  The vast range of emotions he was swimming through filled him with everything—doubt, anger, longing, fury, loneliness, deceit, jealousy, abandonment. For one tiny instant, he even felt empathy toward the women he had taken, toward the families he had destroyed. The sheer trauma he realized he had put them through tore at his soul.

  The tears they must have shed… the pain their hearts must have endured.

  Then, he dashed the painfully disturbing thoughts of regret away. He would be consumed only by his own self-pity. All these troubling emotions, these wretched feelings, he would attribute them all to her and her spiteful deception. He was the only one hurting here. He was the one who was cheated, denied. He was the one who had been sorely wronged, grievously so. He alone, and no one else.

  And she… has caused… it all.

  He squeezed his eyelids tightly closed, forbidding the despicable flow to continue.

  “I will fix this. I will take care of that wicked little minx myself. Yes, she must pay for inflicting such an egregious wound as this. I will personally take care of her. Her added torment will be of her own doing. The additional pain she must now endure will be her fault. Not mine.” He sighed wearily, curling onto his side. “Yet, I will do it on the morrow.”

  When the darkness of sleep finally came, it was a justly restless slumber which fell upon him.

  Chapter 13

  Wynford

  (WIN-ford)

  When Jenevier locked the door, she fell upon the bed and smothered her cries in a pillow. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

  “What should I do, Aunt Marlise? What should I do?”

  Tears silently poured from the corners of her eyes, trickling back to soak her tangled hair. She pulled herself upright in the middle of that big feather bed, looking so dainty and frail… so alone. And there, bathed in the glorious morning light, a fierce determination began growing in her sad eyes.

  “It’s the only way,” she whispered. “My last chance. My only chance.”

  Wiping her eyes, she sat down at the beautiful writing desk once gifted to her by her great grandmother, Bellevine.

  Long before Jenevier was born, Bellevine had a vision in which she saw her great granddaughter being carried into the world upon the back of a great winged cat. This ferocious cat obsessively protected the small child until the day it was beckoned to return from whence it came. The moment the guardian cat left her alone, a huge troll sprang from the ground, grabbing the young maiden… and the vision ended.

  Bellevine hadn’t lived to see Jenevier’s
real birth. But she spoke often of the babe in her dreams and left her many wonderful treasures upon her passing. This beautiful writing desk was but one of them.

  Jenevier sat down and began to write…

  My Dearest Jezreel,

  You are my faithful companion, twin sister of my heart, and the only true friend I have ever known.

  I know not what will become of me once I leave this peaceful little haven of Tamar Broden, but I feel Aunt Marlise is with me. She is pleading with me to make haste toward the Mountains of Thralldom.

  I wish for your company now more than I have at any other time in my life. Alas, this journey is one I must make alone.

  I am leaving you one of the family pieces from my great grandmother. Your favorite—the jewel encrusted locket with the unknown ancient script engraved within. Please use it as best you see fit. It should bring an awesome price at the market. Mind the home for us, Jezreel. Sell what you must, but keep what you can.

  You will be a great healer someday, dear friend. Continue on with Aunt Marlise’s work. Make the medicines and potions for the village. And don’t forget to tend the herb gardens. You will excel in the craft, I just know it.

  I will return here as soon as I can obtain the cure I seek. Until then, I will be nothing but a curse upon you, upon Alastyn, and upon this whole village.

  Do as you will, Jezreel, but I pray you do not spend this night here in our home, lest those Shadow Wraiths return and take you out of anger.

  I miss you already, my dear sweet friend. My heart will be broken until I return here to you once again.

  Tell Alastyn, one day… I promise to return the great favor he bestowed upon me this past night. That young man stirred something unknown within me. His gentle touch and strong arms will remain on my mind until I can see him once more. Until we get to finish what was only just started between us, I will hold him as precious within my heart. I feel his bravery and valor will grow to Elven heights, as have other honorable warriors before him.