Chapter Ten

After June left I lay down next to my aunt and slept. I woke when the sun had already set and dusk purpled the sky. My aunt sat upright in bed, her hands worrying over each other.

“Aunt Cleo?” I asked, wiping the sleep from my eyes. “Are you okay?”

“We’re in the bad place,” she whispered, “aren’t we?”

I took her cold hands and held them in my warm ones. “It’s going to be okay. Trust me. Please, trust me. I’ll get us out of here. I promise.”

“This place is cursed. The walls are falling down, Zara.”

I knew that the doctor warned about her mental state, but it pained me so to listen to her truly frightened words. “No, we’re safe. For now. I’m going to get us out of here. I just need time to find a way out.”

Aunt Cleo shoved something into my hand. A dry powder. “The walls are falling down. That dust sprinkled upon us while we slept. I even heard the walls moaning.”

“Aunt Cleo, it was the middle of the day. Someone was probably working in the hall, or you heard talking.” I wiped my hands of the powder. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“You can go to the pastor. Or go to the sheriff. Sneak out of here when you can. Find them and they’ll help you.”

The thought of trying to escape made me nervous, but it did seem to be our only hope. I remembered the tree that lay fallen over the fence. Perhaps I might use it for an escape. “Yes,” I agreed. “I might have a plan.”

June opened the door and peeked in. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” said my aunt, “it’s not. Whoever you are, it’s not okay.”

“Her medicine wore off,” I said quickly. “We need more.”

“I don’t need more medicine. I need to get out of here!” She was becoming very agitated.

June gave me a brief look before leaving to get the doctor.

As soon as the door closed I turned to my aunt. “Aunt Cleo, please keep quiet,” I whispered. “I’m going to escape. I think I just thought of a plan. But you need to stay calm and don’t panic in the meantime.”

“Promise me you’ll leave and get help. Try the sheriff first,” she begged.

“I promise I will. I’m going to leave tonight. They’ve never locked me in. I think I can just sneak away.”

The door opened and the doctor strode inside. He administered the medicine to my aunt and I was relieved to see that she took it without protest. I spoke with June for a while and convinced her that I was going back to sleep.

After June left, I waited for a long while. When I was sure that June wouldn’t return, I put on my clothes. My boots as well, knowing the path I needed to take. If I was caught, there would be no denying my intent to leave. No matter how the man made me feel I couldn’t deny the danger I was in. My aunt was trapped in the middle. I had no choice.

I slipped outside the door. Thank goodness there was no one in the hall. I crept along until I reached the top of the stairs. I heard muffled voices, took a few steps down and listened more carefully. The voices were coming from the terrace behind the mansion. Slowly, one quiet step at a time, I made my way down the stairs. Once on the ground floor I went to the double doors, opened one of them, and slipped outside. It was dark and I was grateful that no lights or torches were lit in the front of the mansion. I shut the door behind me with a soft click.

Now I ran. Across the lawn, as fast as I could, toward the trees, disappearing into the same bushes that I emerged from on the night of the flood. Brambles welcomed me back with clawing vines. Trees brushed against me. I was afraid, but all the while I ran, for I had a mission.

The path was surprisingly easy to follow. I came to the glade where Navarre gave me such pleasure, but I didn’t have the courage to look. Perhaps I was afraid of what I might see if I did. I ran on. I scampered up the fallen tree and then over the fence. Once I reached the other side, I crept along on my hands and knees until I reached an opening. It was too dark to jump. I scooted my backside over the edge and dangled over the side, trying to touch the ground. It was too far. I slid further down the brittle and scratchy bark of the dead tree.

Then, just as I let go to fall the last few inches, a pair of strong hands encircled my waist. The shock of skin against skin, so unexpected, caused me to let go of the tree completely. I fell helplessly into the waiting arms of Navarre.

For a few moments I didn’t move, didn’t dare draw breath. His broad shoulders loomed against the starry sky. A single drop of sweat glistened in the silver light on his forehead, trailed down his skin, and parted, only to fall upon me and caused me to startle. I came to my senses suddenly and twisted violently in his hands.

He cursed and let go. The ground caught me by surprise, coming up hard to slam my body. Brambles and pine needles pierced the skin beneath my skirt. I tried to scoot away, but his hands grabbed at me. I rushed, stumbled forward, making it as far as the dirt road before I felt the pounding of his footfalls behind me. When I reached the bridge he was just behind me, his breath almost in my ear. I stumbled on the rickety bridge, looked once behind me, and without hesitation leapt out over the dark water.

Warm water enveloped me as I sunk down and my feet touched bottom. Silky strands of grass caressed my feet. I vaulted to the surface, sputtering, crying out and reaching for…anything. My arms flailed as I struggled to shore. In my panic, I was near drowning. The dark water shrouded me, and I called out to Navarre for help.

I felt those hands again, rough and strong, grabbing me, pulling me up and away from the danger. Against him. He stood in the current as still as a pillar. I clutched him, tried to hide in the vee of his body. His arms were relaxed at his side, almost as if he dared me to let go. Never. I kissed him upon the neck, that desperate cold kiss like on the first night I came to the compound. The night I promised to be his.

He made a gruff noise, placed his arm around me and hoisted me over his shoulder. We emerged from the water on the bank next to his gate. Navarre didn’t stop, carried me without speaking a word. He strode through the iron gate and down the road. Both of us were drenched, our skin slick, but his grip on me never faltered even once.

When we came to the mansion I asked him, “Where do you think you are taking me?”

He remained silent. He went to the rear of the mansion where the terrace was. Torches still flickered though dawn would be coming soon. Navarre crossed the terrace toward a high stone wall. I’d never paid it much attention before. It was just a wall with a heavy wooden door.

He unlocked it to reveal a small courtyard. A live oak stood in one corner with a small pool of water at its base. It was such a tranquil and peaceful sight that it took a moment for me to notice the real reason he brought me to the spot. For on the far wall was a door of iron bars, slid open to reveal a jail cell waiting for me.

“You’re jailing me?” I asked him.

He didn’t answer me but carried me inside. The cell smelled dusty. A stone platform, a bed, stood against one wall. Navarre set me on the stone. Without his body keeping me warm, I was immediately chilled. I shivered and looked up at him. “You’re cruel,” I said.

“I have to be,” he replied in a voice that was almost sad. He left the cell, slammed the door, and I heard the bolt land with an echoing finality. “I’ll be right back.”

I waited in the barren room. He returned carrying towels in his arms. Before he reached the cell door he grabbed the stool, slid it in front of the bars and sat down upon it. He was so close that his knees jutted between the bars. He held out a towel to me.

When he spoke it was in an almost sad voice. “Zara, I’m not playing some game. You are the prophecy. It’s my obligation to fulfill the prophecy. It’s my life’s purpose. I will do whatever—” he paused and ground out the next words “—whatever it takes to lead my people, Zara.”

I stood and walked toward him, wanting the towel, but still hesitant around him. “Even if that includes jailing—”

He cut me off. “Whatever it takes. It’s quite simple, actually.”

I stood right before his hand and tentatively reached out to take the towel. He was so volatile, I wasn’t certain what he would do. I took the towel and asked, “But why do you push me so ruthlessly? Why do you force me?”

I heard something close to a growl come from inside him and then he stood quickly and slammed the bars above my head before striding away. He paced the floor, and I could see so little, only the outline of the bulk of him.

I walked away from the bars and stood back across the room, drying myself. I could feel his eyes on me. He stood on one side of the bars. I stood on the other, and I confess that for the moment I felt safer where I was.

“So, we find ourselves, both of us, behind bars of a sort. Perhaps it’s time for a little honesty.” It was dead quiet for a long time before he spoke again, and only after he sighed wearily. “What if I told you that I have outlived everyone? That I was older than any word ever written on paper? That I will marry you come what may, and love and be with you for a lifetime, but I will outlive even you? That I came to life in a place called Iberia and that my existence depends on people believing in me.” He smiled to himself. “That’s why you are so important. You are to be the one who provides proof for my followers. You will cement their faith in me for hundreds of years more, and I will live on.”

“I think you might be crazy. Plus, what happens in a few hundred years when your believers dwindle again?” I dried my hair as best I could with the towel.

“You think you are the only one? I have been favored for a long time. Indeed, what I thought was the most foolish decision ever, coming here on a boat four hundred years ago, was in fact the best. Because all the other gods withered and died in the old country. But I survived in a boggy hellhole with my people. Forgotten and left behind by the world, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

But, still, I have lost many followers lately. Your grandmother Zara was but one of many. And when your very life depends on followers, and your numbers are dwindling, you guard your flock like a shepherd. I fight for every follower. I need every follower.

So, when the prophecy—not written by me, but by my followers all those years ago—when it appears right before me…when you appeared before me, I had no choice. The fact you make me insane with wanting you was secondary.

When I have living, breathing proof that to follow me is to follow the right path, did you think I would just let you go? Once you are mine my followers will be saved. It’s that simple. You will preserve and save my flock. And in doing so my own life, my legacy. The prophecy is very specific, Zara.”

“No,” I said weakly, dropping the towel to the ground. “Please no.”

“I won’t speak of this again, ever. You may make of it whatever you like. I suppose a person could assume I am lying to them just to gain sympathies, or you may think me a madman, or you may even choose to believe me, but I speak the truth.”

His voice echoed as he spoke. “I will have you. And I’ve never wanted anyone as much as you. Zara, come here.” The man had a powerful pull when he chose to use it. “I promise, I won’t harm or scare you again. There’s something I need to show you.”

Although I wanted to resist him, I also craved his body next to mine.

Why was I so drawn to him? I approached him warily. When I was just out of his reach I hesitated.

“Closer.” Cajoling. Warm. Softly threatening.

I took a deep, unsteady breath. I reassured myself that the bars gave me total protection, and I took the final step and stood before him.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I didn’t answer. His forearm slipped through the bars. He traced his finger along my arm. “When I first saw you, you looked so thin. And you had this intensity about you. Almost like you had dug in and were holding on to life with all you had. You looked beaten. Hungry.” His finger ran to my jaw, beneath my chin, and down my other collarbone. “I didn’t know you were the one, but I wanted you, even then.” He took a deep breath. “Now look at you.” Now his hand dropped lower again, until his finger grazed the outline of my breast. My nipple hardened beneath his touch, and I heard the faintest intake of breath from him. “Now you’ve blossomed right in front of me. Your curves drive me mad.”

He grabbed my hand and brought it to his crotch and I could feel the proof that he meant every word of what he said. My instinct was to gasp and snatch my hand away, but he held me tightly, and more, he pressed against my fingers so that I could feel every inch of him. I had this fluttery nervousness. A sharp pang of lust and the safety of the bars led me to be bolder than I otherwise might have been, and I gingerly, hesitatingly, cupped him. Such a quick response from him I didn’t anticipate, but his hand abandoned mine, and somehow rose higher to pull me tight against the bars, bringing me close enough to kiss.

My hand stayed put. And from the safety of the bars, and with his lips on mine, I explored him.

“You drive me mad,” he ground out. Then, “You should know how I suffer. You will know how I suffer.”

He held me so tight against the bars that I could barely breathe. Then, with his other hand, he slipped it down, lifted my skirt and touched the tender part of me.

The confident part of me that felt safe disappeared immediately. He was an expert, drawing me along his chosen path, playing me like an instrument. A finger inside me, one at the tender spot. Him kissing me on and on. Until I lifted a leg, hooked it on the crossbar and matched the movements of his hand with my pelvis.

“Go, Zara,” he whispered, and though I didn’t quite know exactly where I was headed, I knew I was headed somewhere. More and more I wanted, and when words slipped from my mouth unbidden, when his name fell over and over from my lips, and I wantonly moved my leg higher and pressed it against the bar so that he might go deeper, he stopped moving.

“Don’t stop,” I said, rocking my hips, trying my hardest to have him start again.

He was cruel, though, and he removed his hand. Stepped away.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“You need to think about how important it is to get out of here. About how important your promises are, because in just a little while you will have to decide, Zara. I keep my promises. And I will force you to keep yours. Besides, it’s what I desire most.” I heard his footsteps on the floor. Heard the scrape of the door as it opened. He was leaving. But, he turned and told me one last thing. “I will hold you prisoner until the ceremony. You will not escape again, and you will keep your promise to me.”

“What about my aunt?” I asked. “She’s terrified of you.”

“Don’t worry about her. I’ll take care of her. I promise, and I keep my promises. You’ll see her after the ceremony.”

The door slammed. I was alone.

I ran to the door and pulled on the bars. I saw his dark figure waking away in the courtyard, and I shouted for him, but he never turned around once.

When he reached the wooden door that led back to the mansion, he paused. “You need to think about how important getting out of here is. About how important your promises are, because in just a little while you will have to decide. Zara, I keep my promises. And I will force you to keep yours. Besides, it’s what I desire most.” The door closed with a loud thud. He was gone.