Possession of Souls (3 page)

My movement stirred Vance, and he opened his eyes. “You’re awake,” he said, stating the obvious with a sigh of relief.  “You were asleep for quite a while this time.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied, reaching down to stroke my fingers through his hair.

He rolled off me and sat up, scooting against the pillows before gathering me into his arms.  “Stop apologizing, you’ve done nothing wrong.  I’m the one who should be sorry,” he ground out.

“But you needed it.”  I wrapped my arm around his waist.  “I know that.”

He was silent for a moment.  “But I hate what it does to you.  It knocks you out cold every time.”

“I’m ….”

He cut me off.  “Don’t you dare apologize again,” he said forcefully, so I bit my tongue.

I heard him knock his head back once, then twice, against the headboard, and I looked up in question.

“What do we do now, baby?” he asked, full of emotion.

I crawled to my knees, reaching out to place my hands on either side of his face, and stared into those lovely blue eyes.

“Talk to me, Vance,” I said softly.  “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

I could see him struggle to shutter his emotions, conflict warring in his expression with my request.

“Please don’t shut me out.  If we’re going to get through this together then we need to learn to operate on the same wavelength again.”

His countenance hardened this time, and red streaks shot through them as a wave of anger rolled over him.  “That’s exactly what the problem is!” he shouted, catching me by surprise.  “There is no “together” anymore.  He’s taken you from me!  Just like he promised he would.”

“No!” I argued back.  “He hasn’t taken me from you.  I’m still yours one hundred percent, and I’m here with you now.”

“For how long, Portia?” he growled out, grabbing my wrists and pulling them away from his face.  “For a day?  A week?  A month?  Until he decides to kill me and not allow me to wake up again?  Then we are separated for a long, long, time.  He’ll have you all to himself to bend to his mercy, and there is
nothing
I can do about it!  I can’t protect you because he’s stronger than me now.  I’ve failed you in every way possible!”  His voice wrenched into an anguished sound, and a haunted look of agony replaced the anger in his eyes.

“Oh, Vance.”  I pulled my arms from his grip and crushed my lips to his.

He answered me instantly, wrapping his arms around my body and rolling me over so he leaned over the top of me.  He kissed me with a wild desperation I had never felt from him before, like a man who was drowning, struggling for his last breath, and I could feel the moisture that fell from him to mingle with my own.

He ravaged my mouth until it felt bruised from the assault—before he lifted his head to kiss my tears, moving down to cradle his face against my neck.

“I can’t lose you again, Portia,” he said, his voice muffled against my skin.  The dam he’d been holding back finally let loose, and he gave into the sobs, letting them rack his body.

I just held him, not speaking, stroking my fingers over his hair and down his neck, trying to give some sort of comfort.  I’d never seen him like this before, so unsure, so defeated, and I had to admit it scared me a little.  He had always been the strong, confident one, not to mention the fact his demon characteristics rarely led him to any such display of emotion.  I knew he was very upset.  This was coming from somewhere deep inside him.

“Vance,” I said softly after several minutes, and he lifted his head to look at me with his red rimmed eyes.  “I need you to understand something.  Whatever happens from here on out, whether we’re fortunate enough to be together, or we’re separated—I’ll always love you, and only you, and that is all that’s important to me.  No matter what he does, he’ll never be able to break our bond, and that alone will make us the victors in this.”

He stared at me for several long moments, reaching to stroke my hair before he finally spoke.  “I wish I could bottle your optimism and sell it to the world.  I’ve never met another person like you.  You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.  I love you more than anything.  You know that, right?”

“I know,” I replied with a nod.

He leaned in again to kiss me passionately, and I tried to give in to it, attempting to let him sweep me away so I couldn’t hear the niggling doubts that tickled my mind—doubts that kept trying to remind me I had two opponents here, and they were both powerful demons, hell-bent on destroying things.

This was going to be difficult.

I forcibly shoved those thoughts away, putting my arms tightly around Vance, but not feeling like it was enough.  I wrapped one of my legs around his, trying to get closer, and he groaned.  I felt the wave of desire that flashed through him.

“I want you,” he muttered against my skin.  “I need you,” he amended.

“I need you too,” I whispered breathlessly against his lips before he reclaimed mine, moving his arm to run it down my side.  I arched my body in response, and another moan escaped him.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” Damien’s voice echoed through the space, and it was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water over both of us.

I gasped, pushing myself to sit up, and Vance turned abruptly, casting a large fireball out towards Damien.

Damien didn’t even move, letting it hit him, absorbing the energy completely without so much as a blink.  He lifted his ever present chalice, taking a large drink, his eyes never leaving us.

“Isn’t it funny how this Awakening thing works?”  He smiled evilly when he lowered the cup.  “You’re absolutely no threat to me at all, son.”

“I’m not your son,” Vance ground out, flexing his jaw.

“Oh, but you are!  And that’s the beauty of it all,” Damien said, stepping toward us, and Vance immediately moved to take up a more protective stance over me.  Damien laughed at this.  “She’s stronger than you are now, you know that, right?”

Vance shook his head.  “No, she’s not.  You’ve bound her powers with a serum.  I can taste it in her blood.”

“Yes, that’s true, but I can’t kill her … at least not permanently.  You on the other hand …,” he let his voice trail off instead of stating the obvious.

“Yeah, I know you can kill me,
Dad
,” he said with a sneer.  “But know this—as long as there’s breath in my body I’ll do all in my power to defend her.  I don’t care who’s more powerful around here.”

Damien looked Vance over once, then twice, and I thought I almost saw a flicker of something in his eyes, something like respect, before his mask slid into place again.

“We’ll see about that,” he answered, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug before turning to walk away.

We both watched him warily, worried about his obvious show of nonchalance.

“Oh,” he called out over his shoulder, like he had forgotten something.  “I thought you both might like to clean up.  There are facilities waiting for you through there.” He waved his hand in a direction beyond the bed, and we both watched in amazement as the stone dissolved away, and a door appeared there.

We turned to look at each other in surprise before glancing back toward Damien, but he was gone again, having disappeared in those few moments.

“Where are we?” I asked Vance in a whisper, swallowing at the lump in my throat, though I wasn’t sure why I suddenly felt the need to talk so quietly.  I glanced around, almost afraid the walls had ears.

“I don’t know,” Vance replied with a slight shake of his head, his eyes darting over every surface.  “But I have a feeling things are not as they seem.”

“Do you think it’s some type of … glamour?” I asked, searching for the right word.

“I’m not sure.  Maybe.  But whatever is going on here, he’s definitely in control of it.”

“I gathered that much,” I replied with a sigh, leaning against his shoulder, and Vance reached up absently to pat me. 

“Come on.  Let’s go check this out and see if we can get cleaned up.”

“I’m afraid to.  What if it’s some kind of trap? Just another way for him to toy with us?”

“Well then, I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” He raised his eyebrow in challenge before he extended his hand to me.

Deciding to brave it, I placed mine in his and allowed him to pull me off the bed.  He didn’t let go as we walked across the room until we faced the door.  Then he released me and reached for the knob.

“Wait!” I called out, grabbing him by the arm, and he glanced at me.  “If it’s a trap I’ll be useless to you, since my powers are bound.  Do whatever you have to, just make sure to not worry about me and save yourself.  I’ll survive no matter what.  You’re the important one.”

“Oh, Portia.  What did I ever do to deserve you?”  He kissed me gently, before leaning his forehead against mine.  “Nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important to me than you.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he placed a finger over it, silencing me.

“No more talking,” he said, lifting his head away and shaking it.  “It’s time to find out what’s behind door number one.”

He turned and slowly opened it, pushing slightly, before peering inside. 

“What do you see?” I asked from behind him, almost afraid to look.

“A bathroom, just like he said it would be,” Vance answered, grabbing my hand and pulling me after him.

It turn out that the word bathroom was a bit of an understatement.  It was opulent, exactly the way everything about Damien was.  The walls and the floors had the same appearance as the rest of the cave only there was a deep, sunken area in the floor which was filled with steaming water.  Tall candelabras with dripping pillar candles lit the spacious area, giving it a very relaxing feel. 

There was wash basin set into a cabinet with a marble top, with a recessed mirror hanging over it.  Next to it was a regular looking toilet, which I was surprised to find in a cave.  A stand of large wooden shelves holding plush looking, oversized, towels ran along the same wall, as well as a couple of hooks with some robes on them.  There was another door beyond the shelves, and Vance went over to open it, revealing a large closet area.

“What is this?” I said in wonder, stepping inside of it to find a long dressing table with a bench, mirror, and several toiletry items for both male and female organized on each end of it, lit once again with candles.

“I feel like I just stepped into the personal grotto of the Phantom of the Opera,” I said, reaching out to finger some of the crystal prisms hanging from the base of one of the pillars.

“Looks like he’s planning on having us stay for a while,” Vance mumbled after he opened a sliding door to reveal a closet full of men’s clothing and shoes.  “Just my size,” he added upon further examination before moving to the other side of the closet and revealing more clothing that was suitable for me.

“Well, I guess the good thing about this is it means he doesn’t have plans to kill us.  At least not right away,” I said, trying to put a positive light on our situation.

Vance let out something that sound like a “harrumph” before walking past me, back into the bathroom.  “Let’s get cleaned up.  I feel positively grungy.”

“Yeah, me too,” I replied, following after him.

He paused in the middle of the space before looking around, and then walked over to one of the rocky walls. He placed his hands against it, and I could see a magical current ripple out from them.

“What are you doing?”

“Testing the structure,” he replied without looking up.

“And?”

“It seems pretty solid to me.” He removed his hands.  “I don’t think it’s a glamour.  For some reason he must’ve felt the need to conceal the door.”

“Oh, I don’t even care anymore,” I said going over to sit on the closed lid of the toilet.  “I’m beginning to think everything Damien does is all for show anyway.”

“You noticed that too, huh?” Vance replied coming to stand in front of me.  “I say, let’s forget Damien for the moment.  This,” he said with a nod toward the steaming water in the sunken tub, “promises to be a lot more fun.”  He lifted his mouth slightly, in enough of a grin to reveal one of the dimples in his cheek.  “Care to join me?”

“Absolutely,” I replied placing my hand in his, letting him pull me to my feet, and I could feel the sparks traveling up my arm long before he kissed me.

There was absolutely no way to tell what time of day it was in the cavern.  Damien had been surprisingly absent, something which pleased me to no end.  When we emerged from our luxurious bath, it was to enter the bedchamber area comfortably clothed in a pair of pajamas—sharing the same pair of pajamas, that is.

Vance had grumbled extensively about Damien’s taste in apparel and the apparent lack of what he had termed “real clothes” in his side of the closet.

I couldn’t argue with him since most of mine looked like a cross between something straight off a corner on Hollywood Boulevard and an outfit from the Laura Croft Tomb Raider movies.  So when Vance pulled out a pair of leopard print silk pajamas, saying he’d rather be dead than be caught wearing something like that, I suggested perhaps he could wear the bottoms and let me wear the top.  They were certainly more modest than anything I’d been given.

His eyes sparkled with some fiendish looking delight before he handed it to me.  I gave a little grin, taking it from him, all the while knowing exactly what he was thinking. 

We both got dressed, and I thought he looked positively sinful with the silk bottoms slung low on his hips, showing off his delicious v-cut abs which made my fingers itch to reach out and stroke them. 

He in turn looked at me appreciatively, letting out a low whistle, and I laughed.  I couldn’t even see my hands out of the ends of the sleeves since the shirttails hung almost to my kneecaps.

“Here.  Let me help you with that,” he said stepping closer, reaching out to grab the material.  He started to fold the cuff over several times until my hand and forearm emerged from the fabric.

“Well, what do you know?  There was a limb in there after all!” I exclaimed facetiously, when he moved to fix the other side, and he chuckled with almost a snorting sound.  A grin spread wide across his face, and he looked in that moment like the Vance of days gone by.