9.1 Chains and Anchors

I assumed because I understood Dorian and Opal's world that I was prepared for what it was I walk into...

I had never been so wrong.

Underneath the ballroom lights of the Fairway, dozens of the Village's supernaturals were gathered. Some of them could have passed for Human. Others had blazing eyes and swishing tails, feathery wings and scaled skin, fangs and fur. But no matter their differences, they all had one thing in common - they hated us. The crowd parted as we passed, booing and hissing in vehemence as we made our way towards the stage, where Danny and Elijah Begay looked on, presiding like kings over their audience.

"Well, this is unexpected." Elijah jumped down from the stage, landing solidly on his feet. "And I thought we'd need to gather up the torches and pitchforks. But here you are, surrendering right on time."

"No one said anything about surrender, Elijah." But my palms were sweating and my heart was working overtime at the mere thought of standing up to them. "Stirring up a crowd, pitting supernaturals against each other--is that really what your grandmother would've wanted? You're law enforcement--"

"I'm a shapeshifter," he spat. "And before that I am Haudenosaunee. And you didn't know my grandmother--so don't ever presume to speak for her or my community. Here, we handle problems our way."

The crowd cheered.

"This is not looking good," Opal whispered, eyeing the agitated crowd.

Vanida stepped forward, signing with earnest hands as she spoke aloud. "Is this really how you want to solve things, Danny? With blood and anger? I knew your grandmother--she spoke of peace and tolerance. She didn't raise you to be like this."

Danny turned his face aside, saying nothing in return.

"Don't listen to her, Danny-Boy," said Elijah, over his shoulder. "If she really cared she'd be standing beside you, not with them."

"I'm sorry about your grandmother, Danny," I said. "And I'm sorry I didn't put an end to all of this sooner. But I can still do that. We don't have to fight. We can change this, Danny, we can change everything-"

"Enough." Elijah's deep, angry voice boomed across the Fairway. "We are ending this. You and your friends walk, but he stays," he said, pointing at Dorian. "And when we've finished with him, the demon is next."

"I was worried you might say that," I replied, shaking my head in disappointment.

"You're the one who should be worried." Elijah smirked. "The four of you? Against all of us?" He spread his arms wide; his audience snickered along. "What chance have you got, Amelia?"

"All of them." I smiled, looking to Dorian as I removed the folded sketch from my back pocket. "This was Dark Dorian's plan, not yours. Are you sure you're up for this?"

"Anything he can do I shall always do better." Dorian winked.

"Then do your worst," I said, and passed him the sketch.

"It was Shakespeare who said that hell is empty and all the devils are here." Dorian stared hard at Elijah, ripping the sketch into tiny little pieces he collected in his palms. "But to define is to limit the imagination. After all, a single picture paints a thousand words..."

Dorian blew the bits of paper, exhaling black smoke. The paper floated on the air, rising to the ceiling, swirling in the smoke like fairy dust. Every neck in the Fairway craned upwards, mouths agape, watching in disbelief as giant, winged beasts materialized from the blackness, circling the chandeliers. Red, black, green, and gold--with scaled skin and tails like clubs. Some blew fire, all had eyes like burning coals. Their sharp, wicked teeth gnashed, forked tongues flicking as they roared down at the crowd. Seven devils. An arsenal - and all of them under Dorian's command.

"Fantastique," Opal crowed. She drew her flaming swords, thrusting them beneath the throat of the nearest supernatural. "En garde!"

With the beasts hot on their heels, the crowd scattered as they were chased out the door. Dorian and I approached an enraged Elijah as his minions swarmed past us and out the exits.

"The two of you? Against all of us?" Dorian tilted his head at the shapeshifter. "What chance have you got, Elijah?"

Elijah exchanged a dark glance with his brother. "This isn't over. C'mon, Danny."

But Danny didn't budge. His gaze was fastened on Vanida.

"Danny! We're leaving!" Elijah grabbed his younger brother by the scruff and dragged him from the Fairway.

I sighed in relief when the doors closed behind them.

"He's right," signed Vanida, speaking aloud as she gazed at the empty doorway. "Elijah will never let this go."

"Bien sûr que non," Opal replied, sheathing her magical swords. "They have a right to be angry."

"Of course," I said. "And the demon will pay. But killing Dorian isn't the solution." I took Dorian's face in my hands. "It will only start a war. With me."

As we kissed, the monsters I had so carefully drafted on the ride to the Fairway exploded, falling around us in a dissipating rain of shimmering dust.

Even though I had been freed from the painting, my real life was still on hold.  Actually, it was in shambles. But since I could only deal with one crisis at a time, I started with the highest priority on my list. The next night, I had Sunday dinner with my family. For the first time, we broke bread without fights, tears, or dramatics.

"Even though you can't tell us where you went, I'm glad you're home," said Alessa, as she walked me to the manor's front door after dinner. "You're not going to leave us again, are you?"

"And miss out on all those dresses in your closet? Of course not." I wrapped my baby sister in a tight hug, thankful that I had another chance to do so.

"Love you too," she said.

I left, my heart in a sling at the knowledge that if I didn't find a way to fix the mess that was Dark Dorian, I might end up gone for good this time.

That evening, Dorian and I took a quiet stroll through a jungle painting, basking in the summer rays that broke through the thick layer of foliage. A ferocious lion with a magnificent mane settled at our feet with a yawn, tufted tail twitching. Others would have been frightened at just the thought of stroking his fur, but beasts didn't frighten me anymore.

"The sun agrees with you--you're glowing," he said, fingertips sliding down my arm.

"And you look sad," I replied, resting my head on his chest.

"I fear the lengths you go for us." He lifted my face, studying it through soft, concerned eyes. "The supernatural community is against us. It would be safer for us all if we left." Dorian exhaled. "Come with me," he urged. "We can go far from here. I can take you anywhere."

"Dark Dorian gave me that same offer." I smiled, tweaking his chin.

"The only thing we have in common is you."

"Exactly. Which is why I have to stay--to fix this. I can't leave my family again, not this soon. But I promise, after that, we'll have all the time in the world."

"Famous last words." His smile faded as his arms wrapped around me. "Are you sure you want to do this alone?"

I nodded. "He won't hurt me again. Send me through."

When I stepped through the painting, at first I was Dorian had made a mistake and sent me to the wrong place. But Dorian doesn't make mistakes.

The air was choked with smoke, too thick to see through, or breathe. Coughing, I lifted the neckline of my dress, breathing through the fabric as I stumbled forward, feeling blindly along. I bumped into the edge of a desk, ignoring the pain that flared into my hip, using instinct to guide me to the door.

I stepped into the second floor hallway, saw the bright orange flames leaping all around, and gasped to see my beloved gallery in flames. Hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of artwork was now destroyed, and so many dreams along with it...

"Dorian!" Running to the balcony, I leaned over the edge and called his name again, raising my voice against the din of crackling flames and screaming alarms. "Dorian!" Skirting blazing chunks of plaster that fell from the ceiling, I charged up the hall, barreling into his office. There he sat, alone at his desk, drinking scotch as he wore his demon face, ignoring the window curtains burning behind him.

"What are you doing?" I cried, struggling not to cough.

He was morose, the lowest I had ever seen him. "They've set the gallery on fire. I took something from them, so they took everything from me."

He didn't have to elaborate. I knew exactly who he meant by "they".

"So it's true then..." I walked to the desk, forgetting the flames around us to put out the fire that consumed him. "You burned down the Talisman."

His head drooped. "I was angry. You wanted me gone. You were protecting the ones who wanted me dead... So the night I banished you, I burned the Talisman in revenge." Somewhere outside the office, something heavy crashed, followed by a boom that rocked the entire gallery.

I gripped the desk, steadying myself. "You killed Danny's grandmother!"

"I didn't know she was inside!" he replied, shooting to his feet. "The shop was closed! I thought everyone had gone!"

"You thought wrong! And now everything--everything is falling apart--because of us!" I shook my head. "We have to make this right..."

"I fully intend to." He raised his drink in cheers.

I leaned forward, swatting the glass from his hand. "By killing yourself?" I walked around the desk, shoving him backwards into his seat. "You'll pay for what you've done--and so will I--but this is not the way. Get up! Get up, damn you! Get up!" I tugged his sleeve until he rose, grudgingly, to his feet, and hauled him out the door.

Louder, angrier, hotter and more hungry than before, the flames had risen, their bright orange glow lighting the smoke like strobe-lights. Dorian pressed me to him and took the lead, ushering me down the burning stairs, re-directing our path when a flaming beam fell, blocked the way.

My eyes were stinging, my chest was tightening - I could barely breathe. When I staggered, coughing violently, Dark Dorian scooped me up, carrying me the rest of the way. It felt like forever, but somehow we made it to the exit. The doors were burning; Dark Dorian had to kick them in, stepping through the flames and into the cool night air. Already, sirens wailed in the distance. Weak, my head lolled, vision blurring as I wavered between light and darkness.

Dark Dorian walked across the pavement and knelt, setting me gently on a patch of grass, Salt by the Sea an orange ball of light in the background.

His demon face rippled and his humanity returned, falling across his face like a curtain. Covered in soot and ash and still, he was as handsome as ever.

"You should have let me burn, Amelia." He stroked my hair, his free hand gripping mine tight. "Why didn't you let me burn?"

"Because," I rasped. "We're not done yet..." But before I could tell him that I believed in him, and that I would find a way to save him, from Elijah and himself, my eyes rolled as the world faded to black.

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed part one of chapter nine! If so, please click that little star and VOTE! And don't forget to add Immortal Sin to your reading! Thank you so much! 📜🐉🦁