“Truly free? Or an illusion of freedom?” My tone is mocking, though fear tries to strangle the words before I can utter them.
“All freedom is an illusion.”
The fire raging belo
w is freedom. Witches and vampires both meet their final deaths in flames. If this is not a trick, I will burn and die. I will escape my prison and discover what lies beyond the Veil. I do not believe in a hell where the devil lives for I know he walks the earth. Perhaps there is nothing but peaceful sleep. Or maybe my mother and Ágota await me. I cannot be certain of what lies beyond death, but I am convinced of one simple thing.
This is not real.
I release the root and fall.
Lucifer’s sharp intake of breath is followed by me tumbling onto a marble floor in a heap of silken skirts. Though this is an illusion as well, it is a relief to my fatigued body to be on solid ground. While Lucifer watches from his perch on a gilded chair in the corner of a very luxurious parlor, I struggle to stand on weary, emaciated legs. The pain of the stake returns and I press my hand over the jagged wound while I regard Lucifer with contempt.
“Games and more games. Do you ever tire of this?”
“This is not a game. I prefer this environment to your disgusting mausoleum. If we must be cordial during our discussion, I would rather be comfortable.” Crossing his legs, he regards me with a smirk on his lips.
The small parlor is far too warm with a raging fire in a marble fireplace and heavy velvet curtains over the tall windows. The oil paintings and statues are all of Lucifer in garb from various centuries.
“None has vanity equal to you,” I remark.
“I am a very beautiful being. I have every right to my vanity, do you not agree?” Tapping the armrest of his chair, he points me to the matching one opposite of him. “Sit and talk to me.”
“There is nothing to say.”
“Amuse me. Sit.”
Blood seeps through the fingers pressed over my wounded torso. I stagger toward the chair, struggling to keep upright. He has not granted me the illusion of health for a purpose. It is his desire that I feel weak, afraid, and in awe in the revelation of his power. I sit at the edge of the chair so I may shift my frozen feet toward the warmth of the fire. Perhaps everything I am experiencing is a mirage, but the warmth on my skin is delicious.
“How did you know I was not truly dangling you over the pit of hell?”
“You cannot free me unless I ask,” I reply. “Though for a moment, I thought perhaps you could transport me. Then I reconsidered.”
“You have always been a rational creature.” He sniffs with either contempt or admiration; I am not sure which. “It is easier to deceive those who allow emotions to rule over their lives. Fear and lust are powerful weapons against such people. But you are not like them. Only one emotion has betrayed you, yes?”
Only love has both empowered and crippled me. I am aware of that weakness in my constitution. I have never been able to break free of its power. “You wish to mock me for allowing love to bring about my fall,” I say boldly in an attempt to wrest away his argument against me. “Do so at your own peril for I am no ordinary woman and I will not respond in the way you desire.”
Lucifer’s eyes regard me in a cold, steely manner that reminds me of the sharpness of daggers. “Oh? You believe you are that clever?”
“I have killed those I love. I have betrayed those I love. And in my finer moments, I sacrificed myself for those I love.”
“And you believe this makes you immune to threats against your loved ones, do you?”
“You cannot frighten me or entice me by using the love I have for Cneajna and Vlad. I lost them long ago. They are not weapons to be used against me.” My voice is clear and strong as I speak this truth.
“What of Ágota?”
My weakness.
My sister will always be my weakness.
“She is gone.”
Leaning forward, he gives me a triumphant grin. “I think not! That magic reeked of her. You know it! You may try to hide that truth from me, but I see it. That small spark of hope that your sister is somehow reaching out to you from beyond the Veil. That she has found a way to defy God and death to rescue you from your woeful state.”
It takes every ounce of my strength to remain stoic.
“You cannot hide that truth from me, Erzsébet! You may be a vampire, one of the damned, but that little spark of your true witch nature remains vivid enough for me to see. It glitters with life whenever I speak of the spell that whisked your spirit away. I want to know where you travel to when it takes hold. Do you see your sister? Do you see where her well of power remains on this plane of existence?”