Downfall

  Chapter 6: Surrender

  There was a strange car in the driveway at the Old House. Albion sat in the tangled back garden with two friends he introduced as Davy and Tara. They weren’t his usual crowd. Davy had uncool, thinning hair and Tara had a habit of laughing at her own jokes. I liked them, and I liked how things were working out. This was going to be so easy. Albion gave me a glass of wine and a probing stare so I flicked wine at him from my fingertips. After socializing for a while I excused myself and went to my room. I found a skin-tight black singlet I normally wore under blouses I considered too low-cut and tried it on with a short, silky skirt I hadn’t even known I possessed. Maybe some of Vanessa’s stuff had gotten mixed up with mine. There was a deep red lipstick in Albion’s makeup collection so I applied it to my lips and checked the mirror. My threatening smile shone back at me, the soft material of the skirt clinging to my legs.

  When I re-joined the group outside Albion blinked and nearly spat his wine. “Who are you trying to impress?”

  I gave him my best smolder. I guess he approved because he didn’t say a word but handed me another drink.

  “Frankie’s seeing Jude McBride,” he told Davy and Tara when the conversation turned to combining study and dating.

  Tara looked at me with interest. “Jude’s adorable,” she said. “I thought he was with Olivia Ranford, though.”

  “Jude’s not keen on Olivia,” said Albion with a grin. “Not since Frankie came back to town, anyway. He always had a thing for her. An impressively big thing for her, if the reports around town are accurate.” He winked.

  “Things have cooled off with Jude,” I said. “I don’t think we’re seeing each other anymore.”

  “Where have you been going every night, then?” said Albion.

  Of course! “I’ll show you,” I said. “I’ll show you tonight.”

  Albion’s mouth fell open. “Are you finally taking us to meet your secret friends?”

  “Yes, Alby, I am.”

  We all squeezed into the little pink car. Tara screeched with laughter with Davy in the backseat while I navigated and Albion drove, his face alight with anticipation. At Gaunt House I told him to pull off the road and park in the clearing. It was silent outside and the clouds had moved on so the moon lit the clearing like a spotlight. Four vehicles sat around the ruin: Jude’s blue bomb, Liz’s practical hatchback, Owen’s old van, and Cain’s motorbike. We climbed out and Albion looked from the ruin to the motorbike.

  “Oh, wow,” he said. “Motorbike guy, huh?”

  “This place is creepy,” Tara said.

  “Whose cars?” Davy asked.

  “Some friends,” I said. “Invisible friends. Or maybe enemies after tonight.”

  The dark silence of Gaunt House was uncomfortable so Tara reached back into the car, switching on the headlights and radio. A pop song blared into the night. She turned it up loud, grabbing Albion and Davy’s hands to make them dance with her. Ushering them closer to the ruin, I tried to find a spot above the main chamber where those below might hear the jumping and singing. I pictured them staring upwards, alarmed by the stomps and shrieks of laughter while grains dislodged from the sandstone ceiling and fell into their eyes.

  Breaking from Tara and Davy, Albion dug a flashlight out of the back of his car so he could shine it over the ruin. I swiped the flashlight and took my cousin’s hand, leading him around the back of the structure. It was darker around there, in the shadow of the crumbling walls. I scanned the ground until at last I found what I was searching for: one of the ventilation pipes leading down into the underground chambers. It was a rusty, brown metal tube, sticking out of the ground about a foot high.

  “Look,” I told Albion softly, shining the flashlight down the pipe.

  I dropped in a stone, which made a surprisingly loud rattle as it travelled down the pipe. Albion found a larger stone to drop in and the noise was so loud I burst into nervous giggles. When he bent down and called hallooo into the mouth of the pipe I had to drag him away, I was so overcome with laughter and apprehension.

  “What was that?” Albion asked as I led him back to Davy and Tara’s pop-up disco. “An old well or something? Are there mineshafts around here?”

  As we rounded the corner of the ruin, the music ceased and the headlights went out. Davy and Tara stopped awkwardly, twisting around to see why there was no music. My hand froze in Albion’s and a dim shadow in the shape of a man emerged from the car. Cain.

  I shoved the flashlight at Albion and dashed for the clearing. Liz, Owen, and Jude had also come up and stood clustered in the doorway of the ruin. Jude, noticing Albion, drew back behind a wall.

  “Hey, guys!” I called. “Meet my friends.”

  Even in the dark, Cain’s ominous expression was discernible. “Francesca. What are you doing?”

  “This is Tara and Davy. Say hello.” He was silent. “I want to show them the―”

  “Frankie!” wailed Liz and, “Hey, what?” said Owen.

  “Come on.” I beckoned to Tara and Davy, high on the hugeness of what I was doing. They were too confused to obey. Nevertheless, I made for the ruin’s crumbling doorway, but Cain intercepted me, striding across to place his body between me and the entrance. He put both hands on my arms, forcing me to stop. I was dumbfounded by the solid force of his strength. I might as well have walked into a stone wall. Black light pooled in his eyes and I had the profound, terrifying sensation of meeting my fate.

  “What are you doing? What are you doing, Francesca?” he whispered. I couldn’t be sure but there seemed to be pleading in there. Cain ... pleading? “Why are you doing this?”

  Dear Lord―it was pleading I heard, his whisper ragged with stifled emotion. But this was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it? To break him? I mustered my strength again and opened my mouth but he got in first.

  “Francesca. You don’t understand. I haven’t told you the truth yet because I had to be sure we could trust you. But you win. I will. I will tell you. Can I trust you?”

  His face held tremendous conflict and, as much as I resisted, my sympathy surged. I practically squirmed in his hold, loathing the sensation of being turned. Just an instant of sympathy but it was an instant I couldn’t afford. It transformed all my resolve into regret.

  “Don’t you want to know? Haven’t you half-guessed already? Please stop doing this. We need you to be part of it. We need you. I need you,” he admitted, as though he hated himself. I blinked at his face, shocked. “I need you,” he repeated, his whisper descending into the barest of breaths.

  He slid his hands just very slightly down my arms and I stopped struggling, so weak I could hardly move―not even to turn my face away. Looking into his eyes at this close range was like being in a long, black tunnel. No way back. He leaned in a fraction closer and I managed a nod, my whole body quaking.

  I glanced around. Albion stood to the side of the ruin, a wary look on his face. Tara and Davy were silent and baffled. Cain didn’t seem to see them at all. His eyes remained on my face, exploring it intimately.

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” I called to Albion in a wonderfully normal voice. Cain’s thumb moved subtly on my lower arm, like he could hardly wait to discover the way I felt. I couldn’t wait, either. “Would you guys mind leaving? I need time to talk with ... my friend.”

  It sounded ludicrous, even to me.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Tara demanded.

  “Hey Frankie, are you okay?” Davy stared at Cain uncertainly.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Maybe you should come with us,” he said.

  I turned my eyes to Albion, begging wordlessly. Cain kept right on looking at my face. All I wanted was to return the gaze but first I had to get rid of the intruders I’d brought; to fix the mayhem I’d stirred up. Albion shone the flashlight on Cain, and then me, directly into my blinded eyes. After a few moments he stepped forward and gave a jovial laugh. My knees all but buckled with relief and Cain’s hold changed so he was helping
me stay upright.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Albion said to Tara and Davy. “I know a good pub not far from here that does country and western nights. It’s a laugh. Frankie’s got things to see, people to do,” he added with a suggestive chuckle.

  Stellar performance, Alby, a disconnected part of me thought in appreciation. His friends certainly looked easier about leaving me now: Albion knew me after all, and sex was the most reasonable explanation for what was happening between me and the man whose gaze had never once left my face. They climbed back into Albion’s car, and Tara even waved out the window as they drove off. Safe now that the intruders were gone, Owen stepped out of the ruin, furious.

  “Frankie―”

  I flinched but Cain threw Owen a glance that silenced him. He led me to his bike and started it up while I climbed on behind him, the electrical tower hissing its warnings.

  “Wait, Cain, where are you going?” Liz called. “When are you ...?”

  I held on tight as we rode, my heart simultaneously soaring with elation and sinking with dread. I’d won. He was going to tell me the secret. But I’d also lost because I didn’t even care about the secret anymore. All I wanted was his lips on my mouth and his hands on my body. If his confession was true, if he really did need or want me, then I was his. Utterly and completely. All my prim morality had crumbled. But I didn’t know what to do next. If only I’d garnered a little more sexual experience―like, any whatsoever. Even some experience with romantic relationships would be useful right now. I knew I wanted him. My nerve endings, still prickling where we’d shared physical contact, wouldn’t let me ignore that. What was going through his mind? I wanted to reach into his head and pull out the thoughts so I could see what they looked like. White magician’s doves? Or screaming, purple newborn demons?

  Cain took us to the lake and left his bike in the vacant car park, heading for the shore. I clung to his hand. I might never get the opportunity again. Surely this much excitement didn’t happen to anyone more than once in a lifetime? His grip was so fierce it almost hurt. He stopped to look at me at one point, his expression torn. What did that mean? But he seemed to renew his resolve and pulled me toward the shore.

  Moonlight trembled on the lake’s black water, and when I looked up at Cain’s face I got lost in that dark tunnel again. Dear God, it was like there was nothing but him. From the moment I set eyes on him asleep in the underground chamber, I knew him. He was familiar because he was meant for me, and this was the way he was meant for me: passionately, body and soul. The blood in my veins seemed to simmer. I heard myself breathing―flustered panting―as my whole body burned, tingled; screamed out for his touch.

  I had to do or say something. “Are you going to tell me your secret?”

  Cain nodded but, instead of speaking, stepped close and took my face in his hands. He brought his mouth so close I could feel the warmth of his breath. I waited, not daring to move even the tiniest bit. At last the moment ended and he touched his lips to mine. This kiss was a thousand times more than physical. I surrendered to it, winding my arms around his neck like he’d rescued me. It was heaven; I was a little girl again under a shower of fairy dust. When he broke the kiss I couldn’t let him go, still kissing along his jawline and neck, stretching up to reach his face and holding him even tighter until he gave in and brought his lips back to mine, renewing his intensity.

  Then he pulled himself abruptly away. The moment he let me go I became aware of how weak my legs were and sat, more of a slump to the sand than anything else. He stood motionless for some time before sinking down beside me. I watched him, my confusion growing. Was he having second thoughts? But that kiss ...

  “What’s wrong?” I demanded.

  He gave me a half-smile. “Francesca, I’m trying not to scare you.”

  “I’m not afraid.” That wasn’t one hundred percent correct but it would do.

  His eyes reflected the black lake. “I don’t know what to do about you―the way you make me feel scares the hell out of me.”

  It was like he’d put voice to my thoughts. Part of me didn’t believe he was saying it. Was this even happening? Weeks of stony, unresponsive silence and now he told me those feelings I’d fought to control were echoed back, just the same as mine?

  “I can’t work out if this is right or not,” he went on, “if you’re part of the plan or going to derail me. But I don’t think I care. I never thought I’d feel like this about anyone. I should probably leave right now―go somewhere I know I’ll never see you again. But if I have a choice I’ll kiss you for the rest of my life and face the consequences.”

  I kicked off my shoes and pulled the straps of my singlet off my shoulders. I wanted to push it all the way down, and my skirt and underwear too, but pulling my straps down was about as brazen as I got. Cain took over, brushing his fingertips across my bare shoulder, making me shiver. His fingers snagged in my singlet, and then he was undressing me, kissing down my neck and breasts. He explored me almost reverently, pushing down my skirt, caressing my thighs, touching his lips to my nipples. I moaned involuntarily and shifted closer, rising up onto my knees to pull at his clothes. This was real. I needed to see and feel him too.

  The moonlight turned him silver, a white-hot glow of luminosity surrounding him. My fear faded, and the sensation of being enclosed in something warm and feather-soft took its place.