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Ok, here are my concerns with this piece. Where Lamia is explaining to Laura what happened to her in her past, should I leave it as is - where Lamia is sort of narrating what took place? Or should I change that to a whole new scene where maybe I delve into the past and just sort of recreate what happened trhough Lamia's eyes? Or, leave as is just sum it up the in a much more briefly??
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For those of you who have been following this piece, this chapter does not follow immediately after Chapter 8. I will no longer be posting full chapters or in order (as explained in the Chapter 8 post).
Enjoy - any questions PM but I would defiantely appreciate any reviews or advice. If you would like to read the previous chapters to brush up on the story, they can be found in my portfolio.
Cheers ~ Sorsha.
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Laura curled herself into a tight ball on the bed. The images of what she’d done to her sister circled again and again in her mind. In her hand she held the joined pendants and gripped it so tight the sterling silver had cut deep into her palm. But she wouldn’t let it go. She would never let it go. Darius watched her from the doorway, Lamia and Sangard at his side.
<You need to speak with her.> Sangard opted to converse through thoughts. Laura was too caught up in her emotional shock to tap into the flow of mental energy. <Lamia, you can relate to her better then any of us here. Besides, you were the one to find her. You were there in that final moment.> Lamia wanted to argue, pull rank and demand that one of them do it, but she heard the faint sniffle coming from the room, felt the agony in the simple sound and knew that Laura’s heart was breaking.
“Fine.” She entered the room, closed the door at her back. It had been three hours since day break, the deep circles under Laura’s eyes and the drying patch on the pillow told Lamia she’d spent all night crying until she was unable to shed anymore tears; she was now in a state of emotional shock. In a few hours time the grieving would begin anew and it would continue for as long as was necessary for Laura to build her own wall around the shattered pieces of her heart.
“I never really believed you.” Laura whispered when Lamia seated herself next to her on the bed. “Even though I could feel something inside me, swimming around in my body…a voice in my head…I never really believed you. I didn’t want to believe you.”
“I know.” Lamia said with a nod. She leaned her back against the headboard and looked down at Laura’s curled form, unsure whether or not she was supposed to touch her. She lifted a hand was about to settle it on her arm, then decided against it and brought it back to her lap.
“I thought, I would use its strength, just to get me out the window and then I would be okay…I would go back home and everything would have been just a nightmare. My life would go back to what it had always been. I would be boring, plain old Laura, smothered under academic stress, tired and frustrated but normal.”
“That’s only natural.” Lamia agreed, struggling to find the right words to say. Laura snorted in response.
“Sure. You probably think I’m just a stupid girl for wanting to go home…to see my family. Look at the mess I made.” Her hands pressed against her face and Lamia knew she was crying again. “My poor mommy. She lost me…and then I took away my sister.” Lamia ran a hand through her ebony hair, gripped it while releasing a weary sigh.
“You know, perhaps I would have agreed with you – about you being a stupid and silly girl.” Lamia began. “But the truth is I can’t.” Laura sniffed back her tears; curiosity had her turn over to peer up at Lamia, her eyes were dry but suddenly filled with sadness and guilt.
“You too?” Lamia nodded slowly, bit her lower lip before it dared to tremble.
“A lifetime or two ago but I still remember everything. Every sight, smell, touch and sensation, it’s as real to me now as this room in this moment. The vampire who made you was also the one who made me.” Tipping her head back, Lamia closed her eyes as she spoke, she knew the memories would return to her, but perhaps it was time that she spoke of them. Finally let the words tumble out of her and in the presence of someone who could understand all that would be said as well as what could not be.
“I was young, not much older than you at the time and very much in love. I was married to a prince; mother to his children. They were twins. A boy Arcadius Myron and a girl Phoenicia Mysia. I would swim in the sea under the light of the moon some nights, Luther saw me. He wanted me. I don’t know for how long, but he would visit me in my sleep, I would be lost under his spell. He became the lover I never knew I had, a face I never could remember.” Lamia felt the sickening feeling in her stomach as she recalled bits and pieces, but they had always seemed like a dream to her. Only later did she realize that it had all actually happened. She had allowed a man into the bed she’d shared with her husband, allowed him to enter her body and she’d done it with the insatiable ardor of a wanton whore.
“I would burn with fever, it would come and go, I didn’t realize that I was being groomed to become the companion to one of the most sinister vampires to walk the face the Earth. One night he took me away. I disappeared for the better part of three weeks. My father, King Magas, had his army scourge the countryside searching for me. But to no avail. I was gone without a trace. Meanwhile I was reborn as a vampire, savage and blood thirsty. Luther wanted me that way. He wanted me to be ruthless – like him. He denied me; wouldn’t let me feed. For three weeks the demon raged and then he brought me back to Libya and set me, and the twelve other women he’d turned into vampires, free.” The scene in her mind changed from the caves he’d shackled Lamia in, to the nighttime streets of Cyrene. She could hear the drum of the sea against the shore, smell the salty tide in the air and taste it on her tongue. But above all of that, was the pulse of multiple heart beats, the heady aroma of blood and life. The demon inside of her skittered about like a starved tiger ready for the kill.
“Everything was a blur, like I wasn’t even there. I don’t know why, perhaps it was out of memory the demon decided to go to my home; there I beheld my mother, my husband, my sister and my children. I killed my husband first. Quick, clean and vicious. I turned on my mother next, but sobs of my children broke me from her before I could finish. Arcadius and Phoenicia both ran into my arms, sobbing, begging me to stop hurting everyone. I killed my son first, drained him dry. My daughter, I lingered over but not for too long, I couldn’t restrain myself. The taste of their youth, their purity was so potent and refreshing. I’ve never tasted anything like it in all of my two thousand years. I would have killed my sister had she not grabbed the small clay urn on the marble pillar. It had been a gift my children had given me, filled with water from the sea and inside lived a small red star fish. The sea water hit me and burned through my flesh like acid. The pain was what brought me back and there I was, face to face with what I had done.” Laura could see everything vividly as Lamia spoke, and while she was able to picture Lamia, she also tied it in to what she’d done tonight. Lamia’s family and Laura’s sister, both were victims of the monsters they harbored within their bodies.
“I still held Phoenicia in my arms, her little face spattered with crimson peered up at me. She was alive but dieing so slowly and she was in so much pain; her little mouth sputtering with blood as she whispered ‘mama’ again and again. I kissed her lips, broke her neck and then held her body in my arms as I grieved .”
Laura lowered her gaze. She had held on to her sister, she had watched her die just as Lamia had witnessed the death of her daughter. Both had taken the lives of those who had mattered most to them.
“How could you live with it?” Laura asked meekly. “I don’t know if I can.” Lamia took a moment to clear the mental image of her daughter from her mind before she responded. It had not been as easy as she had thought to bring it all to the surface. With a sigh she brushed away at the single tear that escaped and streaked down her cheek.
“I couldn’t at first. When dawn came around, I had escaped to Benghazi. There, in a cave overlooking the sea I hid away from the world and from Luther. The sea weakened me considerably, my grief held me there like chains. I wanted to die, but I wanted to die slowly, to suffer as much as possible…then he found me…”
“Who? Luther?”
“No. Sangard. It had taken him ten years, but at long last he found me, deep within the bowels of the cave, a weak and broken mess but still very much alive. I hadn’t fed in all that time but my sorrow was enough to overpower the demon and its bloodlust. Somehow, he managed to find the right words to pull me back and give me a purpose. I swore that day that I would not rest until I destroyed Luther and all those like him in this world – even myself when the time was right. That’s why I formed the PACC. It’s the only thing I have left in this world that gives me a sense of purpose and meaning…of hope.” It was strange. Originally when Laura had beheld Lamia, she had despised the woman who had seemed so cold and distant and hard.
Now, she had seen that it wasn’t the woman but the monster, the demon who she despised, just as she hated the creature that was nested inside her as well. Laura uncurled the hand that fisted her sister’s pendant; the blood that pooled there had stained the amulet a murky crimson.
“I am glad you told me this. I don’t think I would have understood you now had I heard this earlier. My sister asked that I keep her in my heart just as you’ve kept your family in yours all this time. I swear to you, as you swore to Sangard, I won’t rest either until your life’s pursuit is realized.” Lamia examined the pendant, it was a half sun fashioned from amber with five triangular spears, linked with its sister moon and haloed by silver.
In Laura’s hand were three deep grooves that welled with blood. The mark. The three headed spear. She’s the key. Lamia smiled and clasped Laura’s bleeding hand in gesture of friendship and understanding.
The pact made between them both was now sealed in her sister’s blood.
