She looks up as if she can hear me and I try again. “Who are you? I want to help you.”
“Polly,” she whispers. “My name is Polly.”
“Polly! Her name is Polly!” I turn to Constantine. “Does that mean anything to you? Is she one of yours?”
His eyes widen in shock. The truth slams into me like a freight train. She is one of his. My sibling. Who looks like me.
All Hell breaks loose then, as Constantine launches himself at Lance, fangs and claws drawn. “You took her? You did it again? What the fuck is wrong with you?” he yells, pinning him to the floor, claws sinking into his neck.
No match for his sire’s strength, Lance struggles nonetheless, spitting out, “You said you would always share with me. That we were alike, that you would teach me, and we would always be together, share everything. And we did, until you met her. A tiny, weak, green-eyed, blonde bitch that you wanted to keep just for yourself. I hated her when I found out you were keeping her from me. You knew I would want her, and I did. And when I found out about her methods, just like us, vicious, unfeeling, I wanted her even more. I wanted her but you wouldn’t let me have her. You told me all about her and how much you loved her, and I wanted her too, but you wouldn’t let me have her. She was coming in between us. I wanted to punish her. So, I took her. I took her from her castle and tried to make her mine.”
What? Is he talking about me now or Polly? I wonder vaguely.
“She would never be yours because she was mine. Always mine. The thought that you laid hands on her makes me sick to my stomach and I should have killed you for it. If she had let me come back for you, I would have made you suffer in ways you could only dream about. She could never love you because she loved me. Only me,” CK says and slams Lance's head into the floor as I just stand there, mouth, agape.
“She was mine. She was mine while I fucked her. I fucked her until she was raw and bleeding and then I turned her around and fucked her some more until she cried. She always cried, eventually. The longer she took to cry, the harder I fucked her. And when she cried in her sleep for you, for you to rescue her, I punished her that much more.”
“You are a monster and not worthy of being in her presence. Not worthy of living,” CK spits out at him.
“And what about your own monster. The one you keep hidden. Has she seen the real you, Father? Does she know what you are capable of? Does she know that you taught me everything that I did to her? Clearly, she doesn’t know about the substitutes you made to abuse. If she did, I doubt very much she would be here with you now.”
Substitutes? Abuse?
“What is he talking about?” I ask shakily.
Lance just smirks as I have confirmed what he thought.
“Don’t listen to him, Aefre,” Constantine says quietly. “Open the door, Lance. You get one chance before I rip your head off. And you will be lucky at that, if she gets to you first you will wish it had been me who finished you.”
“You chose well, I have to admit, and you instructed her to perfection, but she is no match for the real thing, is she? Are you sure you want me to open the door? You will have some explaining to do.”
“Open it. Now.”
Lance motions to Tatiana, who has been hovering in the doorway. She looks scared, but does as he asks, muttering words in her own language. The wards that I was still pushing against break down and I move towards the door, pulling it open. But then I stop dead. I can’t go down there. I look back to Constantine, who still has Lance pinned to the floor.
“Go, Aefre. You can do it,” he says to me.
I shake my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t go back down there.”
“You can. Go.”
I still hesitate. Devon moves forward and grabs my elbow. “We’ll do this together, like we’ve done everything else that’s been thrown at us.” Peering into the black hole, he adds, “Take your shoes off.”
I kick them off and he pulls me forward. In an instant, Cole is at my other side and gripping my arm. We all move forward and down the steep, slippery steps. It’s pitch black and it takes my night vision a second to kick in. Thankful that I have discarded my heels, I take it one step at a time, my stomach in knots as I sense the blood and fear. My Vampire comes out at the distress that I feel. My claws dig into both Cole and Devon as I grip their arms too tightly.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I pull away from them and glide forward as if back in my own nightmare. I slowly work my way down the cells, thankfully all empty, to the one at the end. My one. I see the altar there still standing after all this time and behind it, Polly. Weak, bedraggled, filthy, covered in her own bloodstains, slow healing cuts in her flesh.
“Help me. Please,” she whispers as she sees me.
Pulling on the cell door it is, of course, locked. I focus and picturing what I want to happen, the Power does its job and the door springs open. I quickly move to her and with my normal Vampire strength break the chains around her.
She flops forward and I offer her my wrist. Too weak to bare her fangs, I rip my wrist open and place it at her mouth. She feeds hungrily. Taking in too much, I force her back and she gr
owls at me. I would give her more, but I need my own strength to fight Lance, as I am still not going to let CK kill him. “Dev, give her more.”
He obliges and she drinks deeply, regaining her strength. Her wounds start to heal, and she relaxes.
Pulling back, she whispers, “Thank you.” She stares up at me with eyes so similar to my own, I want to hurl.