CRIMSON LIES
Just a bit more, just hold on a bit more, she told herself.
A violent shiver shook Aella and she wrapped her left arm tighter around her chest. The wary dark eyes of the cab driver were fixed on her through the rearview mirror. She ignored him, wiping stubborn tears quickly, hating herself for her weakness.
She was supposed to be a warrior for the light, a hero, all gargoyles were.
And now, after what she’d witnessed, after having her world torn to pieces in front of her eyes, she didn’t know who she was anymore.
The tearful gaze of the child would forever be burned in her mind. The small girl with long dark braids and large silver eyes had asked for her help, and she’d failed.
Her pain was nothing compared to that. The bleeding wound in her stomach and the ache of her electrocuted limbs could not match the gaping hole inside her chest. It burned like acid with betrayal and guilt.
“Miss, we’re here,” the driver announced, giving her a stern look.
She forced herself to focus. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her back pocket and took out a few bills. “Keep the change.”
Aella opened the door and mustered all her strength to stand and close the door; teeth clenched and right hand firmly pressed onto the wound right beside her navel. She hoped the black clothes covered the blood well enough.
“Wait, miss, there’s blood in these bills, are you ok?” the driver asked.
“I’m fine, please go,” she said, in her most stern voice.
A rumble of thunder echoed in the night, illuminating the tall iron gates of the mansion and bathing her in a white flash. The wind whipped her wet, copper hair; the freezing rain pelting her with fat drops that made the chills worse.
“Miss, should I call the police?” The driver insisted.
Aella turned to him again and mustered all her strength to show him a flash of red eyes that was accented by yet another burst of lighting. “Go,” she commanded, her voice turning unearthly.
The driver didn’t need to be asked twice, he screeched away in a matter of seconds.
Aella took a step closer to the iron gates, there was an intercom mounted in one of the 8-foot-tall stone pillars holding the massive things. A violent shiver ran through her body again, her left leg wasn’t responding properly, but fear was holding her back now.
Aella remembered with painful clarity all the horrible things she’d spat at the owner of the mansion a few days before. She could smell his flesh burning as she sliced at him with her blessed silver dagger, hear the half-cry that had escaped him.
She'd played the bait in a raid to lure him into a trap. Pureblood vampires weren't all that common, royals were even rarer. He happened to be both. The operation had failed, and Aella had ended up face to face with Zeydan, with no backup. She'd fought him with everything she had, tried to stake him; despite being weakened by several wounds he'd defeated her easily.
Aella sighed, leaning her head on the cold pillar. The vampire royal had let her live. He’d called her an ignorant child and she’d hated him for it. Only to discover in the worst way possible that he was right.
The war between gargoyles and vampires had been going on for millennia. Humans had been at the mercy of monsters until the angels created the gargoyles, to protect mankind from enemies they had no chance of destroying on their own.
Aella wondered when had gargoyles lost their way. When had they become just as ruthless if not worse than vampires, the demons?
Alleged demons, she thought bitterly.
Truth is, she’d never seen anything more demonic than the sheer satisfaction in her fiancé’s face as he hacked down a defenseless 7-year-old girl with his gleaming, silver sword. All the love she'd ever felt for the gargoyle warrior had turned into rancid despise after that. It didn't matter that the girl was a vampire, killing her was a vile act. Worse than running that same sword through her when she’d tried to stop him, Aella decided.
But, what if she’d come all the way here only to have the job her fiancé started finished by the vampire royal?
What other option do I have?
Her sight blurred and she held onto the pillar, pressing the intercom button.
“Zeydan,” Aella murmured. “Zeydan.”
A gust of chilly wind hit her, accompanied by the electrical sensation that ran down her spine, warning her of vampire presence.
She turned, Zeydan was standing right beside her. Towering almost a foot above her 5-foot-11 and dressed all in black; ink-dark hair fell to his shoulders in soft waves, his bewildered jade eyes managed to look bright even in the gloom.
“I-I didn’t know where else to go,” Aella admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
She felt her body tilt sideways and saw the dark ground approach, but firm hands were holding her shoulders before she could crash.
“Aella?” Zeydan asked, brow furrowed. “What happened?”
A whimper escaped her, where to start?
Zeydan sniffed and then cursed. His eyes falling to her stomach, she knew he could see perfectly in the dark and wondered how bad she was.
Aella looked at him, taking in his unearthly perfect features contorted with concern, for her, —one of his greatest enemies— and felt her beliefs crack and collapse on themselves. A strangled sound left her throat, frustration, anger, and pain stealing her breath.
Zeydan lifted her off the ground, cradling her gently in his arms.
“Aella, tell me what happened,” he demanded.
She felt a gust of wind and knew they were moving. Her strength leaked away completely, his face becoming blurry.
She swallowed hard and forced her heavy tongue to work.
“They’re coming, Zeydan,” Aella nearly whispered just before darkness claimed her.
©Selene Kallan 2020
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