Mother of Chaos by John Patrick Kennedy
“Knowledge isn’t everything.”
“For me it is. A fallen angel? One who knows the structure of heaven and hell, why mankind was made, what we are for? Ruxandra, if you knew scholars . . . I am not unusual in this regard. This is what we care about. This is our passion.”
“There are plenty of things to learn that won’t kill you.”
“Yes, and I know most of them. I know things that no one else in this place, in this city, even in the world knows.” She offered a self-deprecating smile, glancing at Ruxandra though her blonde lashes. “Not least of which is where to buy new dresses at a very reasonable price.”
“That I could learn without difficulty.”
“Or you could make me tell you.” She smiled again. “I made Kade command me, to see how it felt. It is . . . odd. One’s actions are perfectly sensible when one does them, no matter how abhorrent they feel afterward.”
“What abhorrent thing did he have you do?”
“Sing in Italian in front of everyone while dancing a Lo Brando. Fortunately I can dance because the rest of the performance was execrable.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“I tell you what, my princess.” The Alchemist stepped closer, her eyes gleaming. “Let me wash you, let me examine you, and I’ll help you learn to read and speak Russian, and I will bring the others together to hear your fears about the fallen angel. Now, will you take your dress off yourself, or shall I help?”
Chapter 11
The Alchemist grinned, showing large white teeth. “Excellent. I will say everything twice: once in Russian, once in French.” She spoke in rapid-fire Russian and repeated in French, “Shall I help you?”
“No.” Ruxandra pulled the dress off her shoulders.
The Alchemist shook the garment out. “What a mess. I wonder if we could convince the empress to give us a washerwoman?”
Ruxandra pulled off her corset and shift. The Alchemist set them aside. She stepped back and looked over Ruxandra. The Alchemist spoke at length in Russian. She smiled and started again in French.
“No body hair,” she said. “Not even pubic hair. No facial hair except the eyelashes and the eyebrows. No blemishes on the skin—no freckles, moles, pimples, or warts. Not even an ingrown hair. Exaggerated sexual characteristics.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your breasts are large, though not grossly so.” The Alchemist pointed at each. “They are perkier than big ones usually are. Your hips are slim, to make you look younger, but curved so everyone sees you as a woman. Your skin is smooth with enough fat under it to disguise your muscles, which I suspect are as strong as Kade’s. You also have a proper mons veneris. Mine’s as flat as my tits. May I wash you?”
“Why?”
“I want to know how your body feels. I also give a wonderful massage, if that helps convince you.”
Ruxandra’s eyebrows rose. “I think you want to seduce me.”
“Not here,” the Alchemist said. “The floor is too hard for comfort. The benches are an excellent height to be bent over, if you enjoy that. Also the water in the tubs circulates, so if you fuck in the bath, no one else ends up sitting in it.”
Ruxandra barely managed to keep a straight face. “Good to know.”
The Alchemist led Ruxandra to the trough that ran the length of the wall. From under the bench she pulled a wood bucket and a basket with several blocks of soap and cloths. She filled the bucket and knelt.
“If you please?” The Alchemist took a cloth, wetted it, and rubbed the soap on it.
Ruxandra raised a foot and held it in a firm grip. The Alchemist ran the cloth over Ruxandra’s skin, making her foot tingle and sending a thrill of pleasure up her leg. Ruxandra closed her eyes and leaned on the trough for balance.
“Other foot.” Ruxandra switched. The Alchemist massaged her foot, then her calf. “Kade’s sexual characteristics are exaggerated as well.”
Ruxandra opened her eyes. “I beg your pardon?”
“You must have noticed.” She cleaned out the dirt between Ruxandra’s toes. “His body is extreme male, as yours is extreme female.”
That caught Ruxandra’s attention. “Extreme?”
“Oh yes.” The Alchemist rinsed off her foot and released it. “Stand with your hands on the trough, legs apart, and I’ll start on the rest of you.”
Ruxandra did. The Alchemist soaped the cloth and pressed the rough surface of it against her calf.
“He’s a perfect man shape.” The Alchemist’s strong hands massaged Ruxandra’s leg. “Look at his wide back, narrow waist, strong legs, and strong arms. Every muscle is solid and obvious. His jawline is strong, and his hairline does not retreat. Did you know him as a human?”
“Oh . . .” The Alchemist’s hands massaged her other calf before slipping higher to work on her left thigh. “Yes.”
“Did he look the same?”
“No. He had a beard. He was heavier and was in his late thirties, I think.”
“Was his penis as big before?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“He’s large. And thick. Was it the same when he was human?”
“I . . . didn’t . . . I haven’t . . .”
“I recommend it.” The Alchemist started on her right thigh. “It really is quite a treat. Or do you only like girls?”
“I prefer girls.”
“Have you had sex with a man?”
“Several.”
“Do you remember your first? How did he compare to a woman?”
“He’s not a good one to compare.”
“Why not?”
Neculai’s face floated in Ruxandra’s mind, kind and warm and terrified as she sank her teeth into him. “I killed him.”
“Interesting.” The Alchemist’s hands slipped up to Ruxandra’s backside. “Do you kill every human you fuck?”
“Mmmmm.” Ruxandra pulled her mind away from the Alchemist’s touch. “No.”
“Then why kill him?”
“I hadn’t drunk human blood in months.” The cloth moved in slow circles over Ruxandra’s flesh, and she bit back a moan. “I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Why were you not drinking?”
“It happened soon after the fallen angel turned me into a vampire. I didn’t want to kill humans.” Ruxandra breathed deep and sighed. “That is quite distracting.”
“Good.” The Alchemist stood, her body pressing against Ruxandra’s back. Her hands and the cloth slid around to Ruxandra’s stomach. “Distracted people tend to speak the truth. What caused you to change your mind?”
“Six failed suicide attempts, a hundred years as an animal, a lover who betrayed and abused me, and opera.”
“Opera?”
The surprise in the Alchemist’s voice made Ruxandra smile. “Opera is beautiful. The music soars in ways I had not dreamed possible.”
“So you started killing again.” The Alchemist soaped the cloth again and washed Ruxandra’s back. “Did Kade ever hesitate?”
“No. Oh, more there please.” Ruxandra fell silent as the Alchemist massaged the muscles between her shoulder blades. When the woman’s hands moved away, Ruxandra added, “He wanted to be a vampire. I didn’t.”
“You hunt humans now.” The Alchemist’s hands slid down Ruxandra’s flanks. She pressed her body into Ruxandra’s back and cupped her hands around her breasts. “How do you justify it?”
“I hunt predators,” Ruxandra closed her eyes, leaned back against the Alchemist, and reveled in the woman’s touch. “Men who hurt or kill for fun. Sometimes I prey on the dying if I cannot find a predator to eat.”
“I see.” The cloth slipped from Alchemist’s hand and her fingers teased Ruxandra’s nipples. “How long since you had sex?”
“Ooooh. About a year.”
“We should do something about that.”
Ruxandra turned her head and the Alchemist’s lips met hers. They kissed deep, tongues playing inside each other’s mouths. Ruxandra tried to turn,
“Promise not to kill me,” the Alchemist whispered when their kiss broke, “even if I summon your fallen angel.”
“No,” Ruxandra breathed back.
The Alchemist’s hands released Ruxandra’s breasts. She pushed Ruxandra upright and stepped away. “Shall I wash your hair? After, we can have a nice soak.”
“What?” Ruxandra panted. The heat between her legs was almost unbearable. “You’re stopping?”
The Alchemist shrugged. “I don’t fuck people who are going to kill me.”
“I could command you,” Ruxandra growled. “I could make you go on your knees and pleasure me right now.”
“You won’t, though.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you could have done that when you walked in. You could have commanded us to light the library on fire and watched as we burned.” The Alchemist’s eyes were bright with certainty. “You hated when your lover abused you, so you don’t abuse others unless they deserve it. Or am I wrong?”
Ruxandra bared her fangs and snarled. The Alchemist didn’t flinch. The scent of her sweat, instead of becoming sour with fear, grew sharp with excitement and arousal. She stared into Ruxandra’s mouth, her eyes wide, and reached out to touch the fang.
Ruxandra pulled them back out of sight. “You are an irritating, manipulative, self-satisfied cow of a woman.”
“You are not the first to tell me this.” The Alchemist smiled. “If it makes you feel any better, I hope you change your mind about killing me, because I very much want to continue what we started. That said, I will wash your hair.”
Ruxandra, frustrated but clean, emerged half an hour later. The Alchemist had soaked only a few minutes before fetching fresh clothes for Ruxandra. She’d returned with a loose green sweater and a brown skirt that squeezed Ruxandra’s hips and backside. The Alchemist hadn’t brought underclothes or a corset, leaving Ruxandra naked beneath the clothes while her own dried. Then she left Ruxandra alone.
Ruxandra seriously considered solving her frustration by herself, but she suspected the Alchemist would know, and she wouldn’t give the woman the satisfaction. Instead she soaked, sulked, and finally dried off and dressed.
Kade met her in the hallway. “Feeling better?”
“Cleaner,” Ruxandra said. “The Alchemist promised to teach me Russian and to bring everyone together to hear me.”
Kade’s right eyebrow rose. “Is that all she promised?”
“Yes.” Dammit.
“Well, everyone is together, waiting for you. Follow me.”
Ruxandra stayed five paces back, her eyes on his body, seeing him as the Alchemist described him.
Hypermasculine. Narrow waist, wide shoulders, and strong legs. Nice backside . . .
Damn that woman.
Kade led her to a large table in the middle of the library. The Alchemist, Kurkov, Michael, Derek, and Eduard sat around it.
“Here she is.” The Alchemist patted the empty chair at the head of the table. “Please, join us.”
Ruxandra followed Kade. Michael’s gaze locked on to her breasts, free underneath the sweater. Kurkov raised an eyebrow but didn’t stare. The rest averted their eyes. Kade led Ruxandra to the chair and held it for her. She didn’t sit. He shrugged and took the seat to her right.
The Alchemist leaned forward. “Eyes back down, gentlemen. We have a problem.”
“Yes. There’s not enough to eat,” Derek said sourly. “Herring! Adequate as a first course, perhaps, but that is all we were given. Meanwhile the guards eat mutton with great mounds of potatoes, onions, cabbage—”
“They gave us a nice apple tart,” Michael said.
“With no cream. What is a tart without cream?”
“This is your concern?” the Alchemist said. “Your stomachs? What about our situation? What about Sasha, Victor and Dmitri? Did you spare a thought for them?”
“They are fed no worse than we,” Derek huffed. “Which is to say, terribly.”
“Am I in the company of animals that food is the only thing on your mind?” the Alchemist said sharply.
“I wouldn’t say only—” Kurkov began.
The Alchemist quelled him with a look. “We have a real problem. One that requires a complex solution,” the Alchemist said. “My dear princess intends to kill us rather than let us summon our dark angel.”
The silence that followed felt so deep it seemed as if everyone in the room had stopped breathing. The Alchemist smiled.
“Not to worry,” she said. “After our recent conversation, I have come to believe that my princess does listen to reason. However, we must have a very good argument.”
“No argument is persuasive enough,” Ruxandra said. “You must not summon her.”
“Anna tortures our friends to death if we do not,” Kurkov said. “Then she tortures us to death. How is that argument?”
“Convincing for me,” the Alchemist said, “if not for my princess. We are doomed if we do and doomed if we do not. So what do you suggest, Ruxandra?”
“You leave.”
“My dear princess . . . please believe me, your thoughts on this matter are of great interest to us. But how do you imagine we can leave?” Michael asked. “Can you get us past the secret police? The ones you can’t even see? Can you pull our friends from their dungeon and bring them with you?”
“Explain why you don’t want them to summon her,” Kade said. “That would help.”
Ruxandra studied his face. He looked calm. She reached out with her mind and sensed mild excitement and concern, but nothing more.
“The dark angel is evil,” Ruxandra said.
The Alchemist put her elbows on the table and leaned on them. “Why do you think that?”
“Because she created me.”
And then Ruxandra told her story. She told how her father, Vlad Dracula, had taken her from the convent where she had been raised. She told of the ride through the mountains and the cave deep inside it. She told how the men had stripped her and chained her to the ground and then summoned the angel.
“She threatened to rape me, telling how she would tear me open, and laughed at my tears. Then she turned on my father, mocking him and the other men for summoning her and demanding things of her. And then she asked me if I wanted to die.”
“And you did not,” Derek said. “You chose to become a vampire instead.”
“I did not choose this.” The words came out fierce and hard. “She didn’t say she would do this. She only asked if I wanted to die. And when I shook my head, she told me her kind could no longer walk freely in the world, and so she would send me out instead. ‘To sow chaos and fear, to make humans kneel in terror, and to ravage the world where I cannot.’”
Ruxandra stopped, fearing her voice would crack. The power of the memory made her knees tremble. She forced them to stillness.
“Then she fed me her blood and left. And when I woke up, with my father kneeling above me, I felt nothing except hunger. So I killed him. I tore his head off and drank from his spouting neck and then murdered his men to drink them, too. And when I ran, still not knowing what I was, I murdered again and again. I tried to stop and could not. I tried to kill myself and could not. I tried to let others kill me and could not. I finally escaped to the woods and became an animal, only to be dragged back again by Elizabeth Bathory because she wanted immortality.”
The others at the table sat in silence, processing what they had heard. Kade rubbed at the beard that was no longer on his chin, while Michael wove his fingers through the long gray shawl of hair that flowed from his. Derek pursed his lips, looking even more like a scalded piglet than usual. The Alchemist frowned as she thought.
“You asked how I know she is evil,” Ruxandra said. “Because to make me into a murdering monster, just to spread chaos and fear, is not the act of someone who is good. She could have killed us all. That
The magicians looked at one another. The Alchemist kept frowning. Kade rubbed at his face. Ruxandra, drained, sat in the chair and waited.
“The problem,” the Alchemist said at last, “is that nothing you said solves our problem. Anna will still torture and murder us all if we do not summon the angel.”
“Are you sure the circle does not contain her?” Derek asked. He took a large sheet of paper from his lap and spread it over the table. “Four key elements make the ritual possible: the circle, the incantations, the sacrifice and the timing. Without the circle, the creature cannot be contained—”
“The circle doesn’t contain her. It opens the door.”
“Apologies,” Derek said. “Without the circle, the door cannot be opened. Without the incantations, the fallen angel cannot be summoned. Without a sacrifice, she cannot be appeased, and without proper timing, the ritual will not work. That is why the summons must happen on the winter solstice. It is a time of greatest darkness and best suited for commanding evil creatures to come forth.”
“The date doesn’t matter,” Ruxandra said. “It was not the solstice last time.”
She leaned forward and studied the paper. A shiver ran through her. Drawings, elegant and simple, covered the page. In the middle sat a pentacle with skulls at each point and a naked girl spread-eagled in the center of it.
Ruxandra pointed. “Your sacrifice isn’t chained.”
“All sacrifices must be willing,” Derek said.
“I wasn’t!”
Derek cleared his throat and ran a finger under a line of scrawled Cyrillic script in one corner of the page. “The ancient tablets and scrolls showed us that anyone could be the sacrifice, but that some work better than others. A virgin, pure of body but who wishes to be corrupted, works best. Were you a virgin?”
“With men.”
Derek reddened, and Kurkov smirked. Michael swallowed hard enough it echoed.