Darkly Wed (Darkly Devoted Series, Book 3)

Chapter 5 - Confrontation

Chapter 5

THAT NIGHT, AS his car pulled into the entrance archway lit by iron torches, Blake stepped out of the car and met Vivienne by the entrance to her home. He had never been to Cairn Castle before although he had seen pictures. It was built in a foreboding medieval style of architecture with what he was sure, was a heating and electric system to match. Although he didn't suffer from the cold anymore, he still preferred having modern comforts. As Blake regarded the dilapidated gothic castle, he decided he wouldn't house animals in such a place, never mind his wife and son.

As he approached her, in the cold night, he wrapped his arm around her slender shoulders. He brought her into his embrace and held her for a moment. Her body felt so small and delicate against him. She embraced him back and the moment seemed to go on forever. He felt her every breath enter and leave her body and the rapid beating of her heart. It was obvious she was frightened. Not of him. Of what they would do to him.

"You hate it, don't you?" Vivienne asked, with a forced smile. "I can tell. You do that thing where you slightly wrinkle your nose."

"No, of course not. I'm sure it is lovely to live here . . . if one's family were a pack of feral dogs."

She laughed softly although she sounded different. She was no longer the wild, carefree girl with the ripped stockings who dreamed of being rescued by a prince. She was more like a caged bird being forced to spend its days staring into the face of a hungry cat.

"It's not exactly The Shangri-La, my love."

He followed her through the dreary and bare main hall. The only adornment was some childish stick figures drawn into the wall with coal. He imagined Kezair was responsible for that. There was a run down pipe organ in the grand entrance for added eerie effect. The rooms smelled of a foul, sickly sweet scent, like decaying bodies. Vivienne noticed it too.

"Gabriel sometimes burns the flesh of his conquered victims to fuel the torches here. He does it to remind the slaves to fear him."

"I don't understand why you didn't escape from this place," Blake said as he saw a rat wandering across the dining room table.

"I wanted to find out about my family," Vivienne said. "Also, I spent part of my time with Gabriel abroad. I learned a good deal about my mother's homeland, perhaps more than I ever wanted to know. Let me go announce to my father that you're here. Will you wait here for me?"

Without another word, she slipped out of sight, leaving him alone in the Balan's dining hall. Blake walked over to the drawings on the wall and stared at them. He noticed Kezair had drawn a winged snake with bright yellow eyes. That made sense even for a simpleton; after all, the Balan crest was a fire breathing dragon. Blake squinted in the torchlight. Maybe his demonic vision wasn't what it had been, but he could almost swear that sitting underneath the dragon were two little boys, both with green eyes and coal black hair.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of grunting. Blake looked up and saw Kezair Balan standing directly behind him, a wide, eerie smile on his blank face.

"Oh, Kezair," Blake said and gestured to the boy in the drawing. "Are you looking after Orion?"

Maybe it was his imagination, but Kezair seemed to nod as though he understood what was being asked of him. Kezair picked up a piece of coal and dug it deep into the sandstone walls. He drew one slanted line and then angled another one against it. He continued to trace the drawing over and over. It was a V. Blake frowned. Was Kezair trying to tell him something?

"Vivienne?" He asked, but Kezair shook his head. Kezair angrily retraced the V. Footsteps approached, and Kezair dropped the coal and backed away in fear.