Chapter Five

The Price of Sinning

“Char—Lottie…” Valek started quietly.

Charlotte saw herself out of body, staring back at him, slowly breaking into two pieces. Her mouth fell open in an effort to speak, willing something, anything to stumble out, but nothing would. Slowly, she turned and padded out into the night.

She walked a slow, even pace off the porch steps and back onto the stone footpath then stood there, sucking in a deep breath of rimy air. Exhaling, she could see her misty breath between the silvery plummets of rain. She straightened up and broke into a run. That was the only thing she wanted to do—the only thing her swimming mind could think of. She just wanted to run.

She prayed to God Valek was far enough away not to be able to hear her miserable thoughts, knowing if he had the opportunity, he would have been listening. Her throat felt thick as a fresh wave of bile crawled up her esophagus. Had she really just seen what she thought she had? Impossible. Out of every evil thing this nightmarish city contained, her very worst nightmare had been realized. The images flashed, vivid at the forefront of her mind, recalling that which had sucker punched her clear across the face only a few moments ago. She ran, passing the taverns and shops, not knowing where to turn next. There was no safe haven. She needed to find some place empty, some place quiet, where she could think.

Why did it have to be Evangeline?  It just confirmed all of the fears that constantly tormented Charlotte in the back of her mind.

Nights she lay awake, conjuring up in her mind this very thing was somehow eventual, somehow inevitable. Tears from her eyes meshed so well with the cold rain on her face; she could hardly tell she had started to cry. Her lungs began to scorch in her chest after a distance and she bent in half, her hands on her knees as the tears continued to fall. Oxygen returned to her in a fury of blistering waves. Her shivering fingers wound absently around her silver whistle, habitual.

Charlotte straightened again and looked around at the desolate village square. Her teeth chattered as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders, suddenly too aware of the zillions of goose bumps on seemingly every plane of her body.

She turned to her left to see a shadowed alley between the freestanding gothic cathedral and Broucka General Store. It didn’t look to her like it would a dead end, as the dank path seemed to twist around the side of the church walls. Perhaps this would be a good, quiet place.  She began walking. A gargoyle loomed at her as she passed, its wretched jaws extended in an eternal howl, like it too was disgusted with the putrid love she hid so fervently from the one who raised her. She shuddered.

Sure enough, the washed cobblestone pathway turned and disappeared under a mound of dirt and grass. A low, black fence surrounded the entire churchyard, its twisted gate mangled and rusted. Grass, a brilliant emerald color, even in the dead of night, stretched to the moon, her ankles drowning in it as she walked. A stony fountain stood in the very center of the forsaken garden, its winged statue pointing his cherubic hand toward the night sky.

Charlotte walked over and peered into the basin, a sickly sort of jade color with moss growing around the sides. It didn’t look like it worked at all with the limestone decay built up around the bottom. It was completely unkempt, but it was just the peaceful sort of place she needed. She sank into the basin of the dirty fountain where the rainwater collected, her legs dangling over the brim. She was already sopping, and anyway, getting dirt on her clothes was the very furthest thing she cared about. She buried her head in her hands and sucked deep an enormous breath of the clean, dewy air. Tears finally starting to dry, she shoved the rest of the garbage from her mind so she could finally think more clearly.

Valek was her parent—her guardian, she amended. He never wanted her to refer to him as ‘Father’. He made that point when she was very young, learning to talk. Perhaps if he had made those boundaries more clear, this might have never been an issue. Valek raised her. He was the only thing she had ever learned to love, and by far her greatest treasure. In spite of growing up around all of this magic, Charlotte looked at Valek like she looked at nothing else. He meant everything, and she had just walked in on him and Evangeline. Together.

Exhausted, Charlotte sighed and looked up at the stars. The downpour had diminished into a light drizzle. The storm seemed to have cleaned all of the thick, ominous clouds away, leaving the sky sparkling. Thankful the rain had stopped. She breathed in the clean air and watched Polaris wink down at her. She returned to her conundrum.

She decided she should be happy for Valek. He had been alone for years, even before he’d found her. Yet the thought of Valek romantically involved with anyone at all seemed weird and unnatural, because it had always just been the two of them, simple and unchanging.

Maybe it made sense for Valek to be with Evangeline now. Of course it did. Charlotte could never be that for him. She wasn’t supposed to be. And Evangeline was nice. She was beautiful. She would take care of him.

Something hard and icy stabbed at the inside of Charlotte’s chest again, and she lurched forward, balling her fists in her hair. No! She wasn’t going to accept that. She needed Valek, and she needed him all to herself. They were soul mates. That was the reason he’d found her nearly nineteen years ago in Prague. There must have been a reason. They belonged together.

Biologically, he wasn’t much older than her—about four years. They weren’t related in the least. They practically were like different species altogether. They could be together once she was old enough. He only needed to wait for her.

No, her logical half fought back. That was too disgusting to even think about. Why was she thinking it?

Her heart and mind raged on in battle, neither half making any sort of victory. What was she going to say to him? What was he going to think? Charlotte couldn’t imagine her situation getting any worse.

“Lottie?”

The soft, familiar voice dripped like honey in the thick gardenia-scented air. She looked up to see him standing at the edge of the broken gate.

No! Go away!  She said the words in her mind, but nothing came out of her lips that had frozen shut. Instead, she buried her face in her knees again. Wrong. It can always get worse.

“I’m not going to go away,” Valek said aloud, answering her thoughts defiantly.

He padded over to her with his hands up in surrender, careful, as though she were a spooked rabbit.

She felt like she was going to be sick. This was it. The floodgates were now open. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked at him. He had cleaned up. His hair was tied neatly back with a black ribbon. His red ascot with the Czech coat of arms scrawled in elegant gold, and brown sear-sucker vest were back in their rightful place—the buttons closed. She wanted to look away again, but his lingering, sapphire gaze kept her there.

“What?” She sniffed and quickly wiped at her face with an already dampened sleeve. She hated when she was vulnerable. She wished she were on the opposite end of the world.

He sat down on the scummy brim of the fountain and took her small hand in his. His skin was cool and satiny, like it always felt—dry, though with a slick sort of feeling, like the scales on a snake.

“I am sorry, Lottie,” he said almost too quietly for her to hear. “I should never have allowed that to happen.”

She sniffed again. “Why are you sorry?” She wriggled her hand free and folded it sheepishly in her lap. “Who you choose to be involved with is none of my business. You deserve to be happy.”

“Do not say such things. It is without a doubt your business. I do not feel that way about Evangeline.” He pleaded for her to look at him. She refused.

“That’s not the way it looked.” This was stupid. She felt like a jealous wife.

“I am aware of the way it looked.” He sighed. “And I am not going to try and explain. But I promise it was meaningless. Evangeline will not be my betrothed anytime soon.” He chuckled darkly.

Charlotte didn’t buy it. Instead, she turned her face away, the only effort she could make to hide from him. She felt him inch closer to her as she sniffled once more.

“Please do not cry, my Lottie.” He eased one long bony finger over her cheek, wiping away a tear. She couldn’t help but completely melt inside.

Finally, she turned to look him in the eye, which proved to be a big mistake. Her tears flowed inconsolably then and it was all she could do to bury her face in his chest, her hands knotting around the back of his neck.

“Valek. I’m so confused. It’s not like I can hide it from you any longer. Eventually you were going to hear it.” She sobbed.

He rested his bony cheek on top of her head, listening to the thoughts she knew he had not since paid much attention to. This did complicate things quite a bit, and she knew it.

“Shhh, Lottie.” He stroked her hair. “You shouldn’t have to hide anything from me. You know that. I told you to come to me under any circumstance. I meant it.”

He delicately slid his hand up the side of her arm—a gesture she was sure he meant to be comforting, but it wasn’t. She pulled away. “I’m sure this was not the sort of circumstance you meant.” She quickly brushed away more falling tears.

Valek held her by the shoulders, separating himself farther so he could look directly into her burning face. She denied herself from looking up at him, wanting so much to protect him from her horrible, weird, perverted thoughts. Instead, her gaze rested on the sopping skirt of her dress.

“Listen to me now, Lottie.” He spoke gently, though his words seemed to carry a current of electricity. It made her want to glance up, but she forced her focus downward.

“Not now, nor will I ever forsake you. Not under any circumstance. My love is unconditional. I hope you can understand that.”

Her eyes pricked, and she clenched her jaw tighter.

“We are going to go home now and give all of this up for tonight. This can be discussed a different time.”

She heard a smile on the last three words, and she knew he was trying to be nothing but comforting again. Her gaze finally touched his, her heart feeling like it had splintered. “But what about you? I didn’t hunt for you tonight.”

He smiled again. “I’ll be fine.” He stood. “Come. Let’s go home.” He held his arm out to her, offering to pull her from the thoughts she was drowning in.

Apprehensively, she took it and they started walking together, out of the abandoned garden. Her eyelids felt so heavy, she fought to keep them open. The world around her started to tilt in odd ways. Her teeth began to chatter again. She just wanted it all to be over.

The image of the Witch hovering over him branded itself into Charlotte’s mind, and she decided she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Valek’s hand enveloped hers, but things still felt a little weird so she tried to casually wriggle her hand free. He let it go, but Charlotte was sure he didn’t miss her motive. He rarely missed anything.

“I was actually just about to come and find you after our argument when she knocked on the door,” he continued.

She knew he was only trying to make things better, but it wasn’t working and Charlotte wished he had just left it alone. The earth started to tilt a little more under her feet. She blinked, stumbled forward, and caught herself on his arm.

“Lottie?” He stopped. “Lottie, are you okay?”

His liquid velvet voice reverberated around in her hollowed-out head. It almost sounded like he was calling to her down a long, steel tunnel. She opened her mouth to respond when her eyes rolled back into her head. The entire world disappeared from under her as everything faded to black.

***

Aiden was still awake, skimming over a crumpled set of parchment paper. Everyone else in the house had already gone to bed, and he found the solitude—something he rarely experienced with so many siblings—soothing as he read.

Before him, lit by a dim lantern perched next to him on the edge of the sofa, was a list of names, all employed by the Central European Magic Regime. Aiden was determined to find out who the assailant from the woods was. How dare anyone from the Regime try and attack him?  After all, that Lycanthrope guard should have known immediately who he was.

He glanced up at the small, wooden clock above the mantle. The second hand ticked, like a metronome, a little too loudly. Father should be arriving any moment. Aiden had called on him the moment Charlotte left, not wanting to reveal to her the enormous secret he’d been hiding over the years they had been friends.

Danek Price was not simply a mere, woodland Elf. Aiden couldn’t help but grin in the dark room from the utter reverence he felt for his father.

Hearing the familiar sound, like a heavy gush of wind, of someone projecting just outside the front door, Aiden shot up from the couch. His father had arrived at last. A knot formed in Aiden’s throat just before he approached the door. It had been a considerable amount of time since they had last seen one another. The Regime didn’t always allow time for Father to return home. Then again, he probably wouldn’t have wanted to, Aiden admitted with a frown.

“Son.” Danek lingered in the doorway, a mere astral projection of his physical self. His bottom half was nothing but a swirling cloud of smoky mist, and any uninformed person might have thought they’d seen a ghost if they were lucky enough to catch a glimpse. Aiden guessed his father’s physical body must be somewhere secure within the walls of the Regime palace. Astral projection was considered very dangerous, and by law, something only a very skilled Wizard could perform. Aiden was not yet experienced enough.

“Thank you for coming, Father.” Aiden lowered his head and stepped aside, allowing his father’s astral body to enter the cottage. He watched Danek’s eyes shift around the room. Aiden guessed the small home seemed extremely modest in comparison to the lavish lifestyle of living in the palace.

“Where is your mother? Is she all right?”

A new knot tied in Aiden’s throat. He longed for his family to be whole again one day, but he knew that was unlikely. “Everyone is sleeping.”

“Why have you called on me, then?”

Aiden frowned. No matter what, this could not sound like some trivial schoolyard crush. That wasn’t what this was. “I need to speak with the lord, Vladislov, right way. It is…regarding something very important.”

Danek raised an eyebrow. “Something bothers you?”

Aiden’s hands trembled slightly, and he shoved them deep within his pockets. Even as a spirit, his father was intimidating. “Since I was very young, you taught me never to trust the followers of the dark—”

“Yes, Aiden, though you and your mother went against my word,” Danek interjected.

Aiden stopped pacing, looked his at his father directly. “No, Mother never went against you. Not for a moment! But if you were to banish me, of course she was going to follow. I am her child!”

Danek’s stern features tensed. “And I am her husband. Aiden, she went against me by befriending one of our natural enemies. Both of you did. You must make your point quickly. I have to get back.”

Aiden looked at the floor, choosing his next words carefully. “I understand now,” he said quietly. There was a moment of absolute silence between them. Aiden had to glance up to see if his father was even still there. “Valek Ruzik has what I want. He has committed a serious crime against the Regime.” Aiden continued to struggle to articulate. “What I mean to say is…I am finally ready to accept Vladislov’s offer.”

“Good,” Danek replied shortly, folding his ghostly arms behind him. “But Aiden, we already have a plan for the Vampire….”

***

Valek caught Charlotte and lifted her into his arms with ease. He began walking again and gazed down at the frail girl he carried her through the night. Her face seemed as peaceful as it had the night he first found her. It really hadn’t changed all that much, he decided. She was still the sweet, confused little Lottie who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. He hadn’t taken the chance to really look at her lately. She had grown into such a beautiful young woman, and he realized just how proud he had become of her.

As he continued through the quiet town square, Valek listened to her thoughts. He had never paid this much attention to her mind and found himself completely entertained by the mental war raging inside her, even as she slept.

But then, and not to his surprise, an overwhelming feeling of sadness came over him. This was his Charlotte–his Lottie. She was his child. But now, that which had been so peaceful for years was about to grow to a great complexity. This battle was not yet over. He could feel it.

Valek barely noticed the creatures gawking at him from inside the opened taverns, nosily wondering what he had done to poor, lifeless Charlotte in his arms. If it hadn’t been for their annoyingly curious thoughts aimed directly at him, he probably wouldn’t have been aware of them at all. They stared with their multi-specied eyes, and whispered things to one another, though with his keenness, they might as well have been screaming. They elbowed each other in the ribs, pointing their extended claws.

A Witch with an edgy, white, bowl cut, chic against her angular face, nudged Evangeline, who looked up from a conversation she’d been having with a tall, male Elf.

“Valek!” She shrieked and ran to the center of the square. Several gasps fluttered from the crowd.

Valek stopped walking, glancing around defensively at the ogling eyes.

“Valek! What did you do to her?” Evangeline asked, exasperated, and staring wild-eyed.

Valek saw she had somehow managed to gussy up more than she already had been that evening. Her chestnut hair swirled in loose curls around her pale rounded shoulders. Dark, emerald eyes glimmered under a bed of curled lashes. But all of that didn’t appeal to him so much this time around. It seemed oddly sort of fake, like there was a hag cowering just underneath the layers of sparkling gossamer and ribbon.

He sneered. “I did nothing.”

“Then, what happened to her?”

“Nothing. She’s just exhausted.” He looked down at Charlotte again.

“Why are you crying then?” She reached up to the streaks of blood falling from his eyes.

He was quick to pull away, agitated. Had he really been crying? “I do not know. I hadn’t realized it.” He glared back once more at the watchful eyes staring at them around the village square, noticing how eerily still everything had become. “I believe I am just tired as well. Won’t you excuse me?”

“Can I walk you home?” Evangeline asked.

Valek shot a malevolent glower at the macho Elf still standing in the shadows of the tavern. Evangeline apparently did not waste any time finding another toy to play with.

“I believe your new friend would not feel right by that,” Valek seethed through gritted fangs. “You may hurt his feelings.”

Evangeline’s face burned with a chagrin Valek found neither appetizing, nor appealing.

“So, I think I’ll make it home myself. Thanks.” The urge to kill her was more out of fury rather than thirst, but he kept walking, leaving Evangeline alone in the center of the road.

Valek found himself stalking instead of gliding, like he normally did, back to his home at the far end of the street. It had been a long time since he had gone a full night without blood, though he believed nothing serious would happen to him. Veins throbbing under his icy skin pained him to no end. The anger that pulsed inside him didn’t help the situation either.

All of the lights were still on inside. The door left wide open after he ran out after Charlotte. He made his way back inside and slammed the door shut, barely touching it. He trudged up the stairs. All of the lanterns lining the wall on the way to the second story flickered out, bulbs bursting into thousands of tiny shards he crushed under the soles of his shoes.

Charlotte hung limp in his arms, her still face twitching every so often with a new thought. The floorboards, which normally creaked when Charlotte treaded on them, were silent under Valek’s feet as he made his way into her bedroom. Again, he noted how quiet and still the house felt without her. Charlotte’s bedcovers were still turned down from when she had woken up earlier that evening. He recalled their argument, instantly regretting having it.

He lay her down and removed her shoes. Charlotte was still adorned in her soaking, black dress, her hair clinging in thick pieces to her sleeping face. A nearly invisible shiver made her lower lip tremble, and he knew he had to remove the garment before she caught her death. A discomfort quickly flared up under his skin and if he were alive, he imagined it would have been several shades of chagrin turning him red. He sighed as he bent over her, gingerly fumbling with the pearl-face buttons beginning just below her collarbone, until he was able to slide it completely off her in one fluid motion. Quickly, he pulled the blanket around her, his gaze fixated on the dusty floorboards instead of on her.

He gazed at her again. She finally seemed peaceful; though he knew a million things haunted her behind those pretty eyelids.

He sat on the edge of the bed and watched sleep calm her features. Touching her soft curls, twirling them around his fingers, he listened contently to her complicated dreams, not surprised at all that they revolved around him. It shouldn’t have, but it made him smile. He glanced over at the alarm clock on her bedside table to see it was almost four a.m.

The muscles in his arms felt weak as the thirst started to flare in his throat again. Valek watched Charlotte’s chest expand and contract as she breathed. He leaned down and buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her rosy perfume, listening to the warm vibration of her pulse. It created a sharp, stabbing pain in his gums, his mouth drying up like he had swallowed a bale of cotton.

Lottie, my love, there is more than just the one reason why we could never be together. The angel and Satan’s plaything—together forever, he scoffed.

Though, he did love being so close to something so vulnerable, so real, and so alive, he decided that was what he loved most about her. It was a constant reminder of what he used to be—what had been taken away from him.

He inhaled her scent once more and an unrelenting burning shot up the back of his esophagus again, worse this time. He darted away from her, clinging to the furthest wall. Ruby veins glowed at him under the ivory current of her flesh. He shut his eyes tight against the sight of it. His gums throbbed harder, beckoning him to feed and he covered his mouth firmly with the back his hand, feeling his eyes begin to water.

Slowly, he walked to the door, turning one last time to look at his “Little Lottie,” knowing things were going to change between them forever. The door clicked shut.

He plummeted down the stairs and into the library, now made eerily dismal because of the dying fire. On his armchair sat a white, folded note. He opened it cautiously, already knowing who it was from. Evangeline’s face was creased from the horizontal fold. Her gray-scale eyes in the picture opened with a sad gaze toward him.

“Sorry,” the note sounded in an airy, musical voice, double-toned by a chord lower and sadder, before it vanished in a cloud of purple and gold.

“It is too late for sorry,” Valek muttered and collapsed into his chair. He put his head in one clawed hand and sighed. His lips throbbed with the thirst, and he knew death was imminent in just a few moments. He didn’t even have enough energy to make it back upstairs to his bedroom and close the curtains.

He sat there, analyzing the situation before him. His Lottie, his doll he had treasured and polished for years, the one he saw as eternally innocent, forever a little girl, had finally grown up.

The day he neglected to anticipate had finally come. In the back of his mind, he’d known it was coming. She was womanly. The little girl he’d watched change before his unchanging eyes, year after year after year, had made a change he hadn’t anticipated. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to anticipate it, because he didn’t want to believe she would ever change that way—that she would ever grow up. He mulled this over until the feeling of perishing was finally too overwhelming to ignore any longer.

First, breathing became more difficult as he choked and fixated on the oxygen. He fought with it until he felt his brittle ribs give to the pressure. He moaned softly, careful not to wake Charlotte, as his vision started to haze and then blacken. Soft flesh hardened around his drying bones. A louder cry ripped from him as his spine arched backward, pushing against the death that clung to him as he, himself, had been death clinging to life hundreds of times before.

The room grew entirely too cold and he clutched the sides of the chair, tearing holes in the upholstery with his mangled claws as he heaved. He fought for every last moment, tearing into his consciousness for one single shred of life. But the darkness finally enveloped the vision of the room before him as one final image shimmered before his blazing eyes. Charlotte.