Chapter Twelve
Reine sat on the floor. His eyes burned from the lack of sleep and his head hurt. He covered his face with his hand but didn’t close his eyes. The hammering in his skull increased and he rubbed his temples, hoping it would subside.
“Reine.”
His heart fluttered at the sound of Mystique’s voice.
“Reine, please. You can’t stay in there forever. Open the door.”
He folded his wings behind his back. He couldn’t open the door. Allowing her inside would be like bringing her into his madness. He couldn’t allow that.
“All right. “ He heard her sigh. “I’ll come by later.”
After a second, he heard the sound of her footsteps moving away from the door. Reine let out a long breath of relief. His gaze darted across the room. The television set was on the floor, cracked. Pieces of glass and porcelain coated the living room floor. The shelves, which had held the delicate ornamental objects, lay scattered about and broken. The kitchenette was not much better off. He’d smashed several plates and glasses and wrecked the table. He’d destroyed everything in sight.
He couldn’t let her in. As much as he wanted to see her, hold her, and kiss her again, he knew it was for the best. He stared at the painting which had toppled to the ground during his mad rage. The painter had brought to life the image of a tree atop a hill after a storm. Here and there, Reine could see the gentle caress of the brush stroke used to create the rough bark. The painter had paid close attention to detail and the trunk told its history through crevices and grooves. There, a bird had chipped into it, and there, the hot weather had dried its surface until it wrinkled like a prune. Leaves and branches lay on the ground around it, but the tree still stood proud, its canopy of leaves seeming to sway in the wind and daring the tempest to come again. Every leaf had been carefully designed, appearing to be fresh and young, its texture satiny and its color a dazzling green glimmering from the sunlight peeking from behind the gray clouds.
In a way, Mystique was like that tree. She had been marked by the tribulations of life and yet she was still beautiful and full of life both inside and out. She represented those leaves dancing in the wind after a stormy night. She was the tree marked by time and pain but still strong atop the hill.
But how long could a tree withstand the force of a hurricane? She had resisted once, but no doubt, twice would kill her. Reine glanced at the hole he’d punched in the wall where the painting had hung. He was that whirlwind. He was the harbinger of destruction. He was the tempest that would break her.
That was why when she called him he ignored her calls. It was the reason when she knocked on his door he refused to open. He couldn’t put her life at risk even if he wanted to go to her. He couldn’t protect her. The incident at the cinema had demonstrated he was indeed unfit to be a Guardian. He was not capable of stopping the Sins from taking souls.
Reine groaned as once more the humming in his head increased its pitch. He rolled to his side and pulled his knees to his chest into a fetal position. He was tired. How long had he been fighting? How long had he been trying to pretend everything was all right when it really wasn’t? His gaze darted across the room. His blood froze and a growl became lodged in his throat as he saw the shadow reflected on the piece of glass. Fury slammed against him. Reine rolled to his feet and lunged himself at the creature in the reflection. The Inferum shrieked, surprised. Reine wrapped his hand around its throat. He shook the wretched beast violently.
“You,” he spat. “Come into your full size and fight, devil.”
Reine hurled it across the room. The Inferum hit the wall with a sickening crunch and slid to the floor. For an instant, Reine thought he’d killed it, but then it began to transform. Its legs and arms stretched, the bones elongating and clicking into place. Skin the color of fresh blood covered its skeletal frame. It snarled, displaying its fangs. Their gazes locked.
“Why are you here, Inferum? Who is your master?” Reine asked, even though he knew it could not speak, for as slaves to the Sins their ability to communicate became reduced to grunts and moans.
The beast stared at him, his hollow eyes as dark as a moonless night, shone with malice.
“What were you intending to do? Take over me or—” Reine’s mouth dried as the thought that occurred to him became trapped in his throat. “Take over her,” he choked out the words.
The creature’s evil grin grew.
Reine leaped at it. They fell to the floor, in a heap of arms and legs. Reine kicked at the creature, who in turn scratched him across the arm with one of its long nails. Reine used his left hand to slap it across the face. The Inferum dug his bony fingers into Reine’s stump. Reine screamed and bit the beast, who released him. He coughed as the taste of sour blood filled his mouth. Using the strength of his upper body, Reine twisted away from the Inferum’s claw once more. He rolled to the side and stumbled to his feet. The fiend didn’t react as quickly and Reine took the chance to kick him.
“You will not take her.”
Again and again, he kicked the devil. He became deaf to its cries as he brutally took its life.
“You are the reason for all that is wrong in this world.”
Abruptly, Reine grabbed it by the neck and lifted it off the ground.
“You must die.”
Reine squeezed the beast’s neck. In a vain attempt to loosen Reine’s hold on him, it scratched at his hand, but anger drove Reine forward. The more the creature struggled, the harder he pressed. Finally, the Sin’s servant fell limply against his hand, its life extinguished. Reine released his grasp on it and it crumbled to the floor, where only seconds later it vanished.
Reine stared at the spot. His head swam. There was no escape from the Sins’ Inferums. Guardians were fighting a losing battle. The balance between good and evil had long been destroyed. There was nothing they could do. Reine closed his eyes as the weight of the realization struck him. He gasped as Mystique’s vivid image appeared before him. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. She deserved a happiness he could not offer. He kept his eyes closed, drinking in her image. From the golden highlights of her eyes, to the scar on her nose, to the fullness of her lips. The buzzing in his head began to decrease and he furrowed his nose as the smell of blood reached his nostrils. He opened his eyes and for the first time realized the thick fluid covered him. Shaking, Reine got to his feet and headed for the bathroom. He piled his soiled clothes in a corner and stepped into the shower. He turned the water on full blast and sighed as the warm spray hit him. He closed his eyes again.
“Mystique,” he whispered, envisioning her in the little black dress she’d worn for their date. His heart skipped a beat as he recalled her laughter. “I wish—”
His eyes snapped open as he heard knocking at his door.
“Reine, please, open the door.”
