Rising Darkness (Game of Shadows #1)(46)

But it was such an ordinary day her feet took another step and then another, and no, no, no, she couldn’t go out on that balcony, she couldn’t bear it, and she couldn’t stop it either, because the terrible thing had already happened—

A male figure, radiant as a black sun, stepped from the balcony into her room. “Mary, Mary, quite contrary,” said the figure. “You’ve started to mess around with things you might have been happier to leave alone.”

She gasped and gasped, but there was not enough air.

On the balcony the sword had come down. It had almost split her in two. She’d wrapped her arms around her torn body and held her own intestines as they spilled out. Her maidservant had screamed, the whole world had screamed, and the household guards had come running but they had been far too late—

“You see,” said the figure as he walked toward her, “after this afternoon I rather thought you’d begin digging around in the past. So I thought I would help you out and send you this dream. You know, do my bit to nudge the memories along because you’ve made a bad mistake, Mary. You’re putting your trust in the wrong man. He used to be your mate, but he’s been insane for centuries. He tried to have you kidnapped in South Bend today, and he’s the one that slaughtered you like a cow in this past life. While I might not have had the most altruistic reasons for doing so, I was the one who tried to save your life. Have you remembered any of that yet, Mary Mary?”

She stood hunched over, arms wrapped around her violated torso, head turned sideways to stare at the black diamond man. The crack in her body shone like a golden river. He glittered in its reflection. Her face contorted in a scream but no sound emerged.

“Oh look.” The figure cocked his head. “You’re bleeding energy again. And it’s already been nine centuries. A wound of the spirit as deep as yours can only come from your mate. I would work hard at getting away from him if I were you.”

Chapter Fifteen

WHEN THE MAN had completed his agenda in the spiritual realm, he anchored himself back in his body and opened his eyes.

He had stretched out on one of the limousine seats, and he bit back a groan as he struggled to sit up. Every joint ached, even those in his fingers. He put his elbows on his knees and rubbed at his face, taking heed of the warning. Already, after just a few days, his current body was almost worn out.

Strange noises penetrated his awareness. He looked over his hands. He had left Justin handcuffed to one of the doors. The young human was eating sushi and melon balls, eyes glued to the flat-screen that no longer played CNN but instead a black-and-white Japanese monster movie.

The man looked from the television to the plate of food on Justin’s lap.

“What?” Justin said with his mouth full. He shrugged. “You locked me up with a fridge and a TV.”

“I sure did, didn’t I?” the man said.

He started to chuckle. Come to think of it, he was starving. He took one of the plates from a nearby container and served himself salmon and crackers, sushi, a few melon balls and a petit four. He offered the plate of petit fours to Justin, who took one and put it on the plate at his knee.

“You know,” Justin remarked with a flash of those charming dimples, “I’ve been awfully curious about that Royal DeMaria.”

The man grinned as he tucked into his meal. “Have you ever had icewine?”

“Yes, but not one of that caliber. How much did it cost, a thousand a bottle?”

“Closer to four.”

Justin’s eyes widened. He chewed, swallowed and said, “Why the hell not.”

The man opened the bottle and poured them each a glass. Justin thanked him, took a sip and breathed, “Wow.”

“Yes,” the man said, smiling. “Wow.”

They finished the bottle. The man opened a second, and they finished that one too. Then, although he cut Justin off from having any more alcohol, the man moved on to the champagne while Gamera and Godzilla rampaged across the flat-screen.

Some time later, after he had gorged until he could not eat another bite, the man confided expansively, “People are idiots, you know.”

“Why’s that?” Justin asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Only the human species would produce so many nuclear weapons they could destroy the world not once, but many times over.” Champagne sloshed as the man gestured with his wineglass. “They’re bright enough to make them but too stupid to quit. I don’t get it.”

“You might have a point there,” Justin admitted. Stress had deepened the lines bracketing his eyes and corners of his mouth, and his face was smudged with weariness.

“You look tired,” said the man. “Did you get a nap?”

Justin’s eyes narrowed. He said, “That’s an awfully damn solicitous question for a kidnapper.”

“I have my reasons.” Ignoring a queasy sense of nausea and how his stomach felt stretched and overfull, he took another drink and continued. “Only the human species would continue to landfill reusable products in a world of diminishing resources, and spray millions of acres of arable land with pesticides until the land is virtually dead and nothing, not even earthworms or insects, can grow or live on it any longer.”

“Okay, let me try one for you,” Justin offered. “Only humans would haul their garbage out to the oceans then fish in the same oceans and eat what they caught.”