~ One Week Later, Castle Ark ~
Lillian paced outside in the mist of twilight, the rain having swept through the area in the passing week. Seymour had returned – a little worse for ware – and was currently inside, reading letters from delegates and handling the mess that had arisen from his sudden departure of Tokyo. The stones that made up the pathway were cracked and breaking, painted a darker shade by the moisture in the air with vines curling all around, leaves of jade spiraling around at her feet as the wind picked up for a moment. The grass was covered in a light sheen and as she skipped from one smooth stone to the other she felt the blades tickle the bottom of her feet, reminding her of something that happened not so long ago but felt so distant that it may as well have been a dream.
Rose bushes lay beneath the trees’ in the shades of red and white; her navy blue dress clinging to her as she stepped almost soundlessly through the garden on the bare soles of her feet. Seymour would be upset if he knew she was out and about with no shoes on, worried that she might catch a cold but she simply shrugged a shoulder. She liked to feel the cool stones beneath her feet as she paced herself through the garden, being here felt like walking in a fairy tale. Many of the trees were built for climbing, with low hanging branched and ones higher up she smiled, thinking of years passed when the laughter of – A twig snapped to her right and she turned abruptly.
“Seymour?” She called, her grey eyes peering around in the gloom that stretched endlessly out. Through the canopy the trees branches made above she could make out the outline of the castle in the distance, shaded in the bleak of twilight fog.
Another sound came right behind her and she turned to see nothing, her brow furrowing as she stood there. Lillian slowly moved away only to feel a strong arm wrap around her waist and bring her in a crushing grasp against a much larger person. By the feel it was a man and she gasped, giving him the chance to press the cloth against her face…The world grew black…
“Where is my wife?” Seymour asked, buttoning his cufflinks as a young maid entered, her wide green eyes turning to look at him, a defiant curl of dark brown hair winding out from under her cap.
“She wen’ fer a walk in the garden sir,” she murmured, her eyes instantly dropping to the floor to escape the malevolence inside his amber gaze.
“I suppose she went without shoes again,” Seymour growled, aware of the shiver the young woman had when he did this, her eyes still on the ground. “Out of my sight,” he snapped and she fled the room, almost running for the door and a strange sense of déjà vu filled Seymour as she did so.
He turned and made his way to the door to his balcony, opening it and proceeding out onto the mist covered platform, barely able to make out the trees in the distance of the garden. Sighing, he leaped; the sound of his clothes ruffling against the breeze sounding in his ears as the wind moved around his form. He landed, the air dancing around his feet so that he made no noise, his eyes scanning the gloom as he searched for his wife.
Catching her scent he moved deeper in, his shoes sliding against the grass as he made his way deeper into the grey. Stopping, he sniffed again – what was that? It was a new scent, one he had never smelt before…No; something was oddly familiar about the tang that it left in his nostrils. Seymour stalked deeper, his feet making no noise, amber eyes growing wider as he raced deeper, his legs carrying him faster than a man his age should be able to travel.
“LILLIAN!!” Seymour roared, crushing roses and sending their petals flying. “Lillian!” He yelled again, his voice strained, panicked, as he crashed through more rose bushes, his pant legs torn and eyes wide as he frantically searched for the Angel of Ark. “No, no, no…no,” he said the word over and over again, praying it was not true as his nails sliced through the bark of a tree he had spun off of. Seymour crashed into a clearing, surrounded by white and as he slowly stood he made his way over to one of the bushes at the edge. He fell to his knees, amber eyes wide and bloodshot he lowered his hand, dipping it in among the thorns and petals to pull out a piece of navy blue silk.
The tie of his hair fell, landing among the white, to land on the face of a red rose, winding around it in the chilling breeze that rustled the vines, causing them to rattle against one another. “Lill…ian,” his voice was horse, unrecognizable in the lower tint it took, sounding like a beast, a monster, the sound echoing over the clearing as black spread out from the piece of cloth he held. His veins bulged against his skin, carrying the coal color over his skin, sending it deeper, into his flesh and making his nails grow, become pointed, and turn white. When the blackness reached his eyes it peeled back his eye lids, burning them and causing blood to poor in around the edges of the amber. Hell was about to be paid…
Brotherhood Compound – London
Wrath stepped through the door, throwing his coat on the hook by the door her sighed, feeling George rub against his leg slightly. There was a clatter from the living room, like a table being knocked over and the distinct sound of Beth yelling…It sounded like: “you bastard! What the fuck were you thinking?!”
Wrath’s brow furrowed and he hurried inside, George stopping him so he wouldn’t trip – which was irritating…He needed to see what was happened – and when he finally stepped into the living room he heard V this time. “At least this way we have the upper hand! There’s no way he’ll attack us now and we can use her to our advantage. Get her to tell us about him!”
He sensed it instantly – although he smelt her before he actually knew about her presence – it was that girl. She was the same one that had come with Seymour when Wrath had come home after their encounter…What was she doing here? “What the fuck is going on?!” Wrath snarled, causing heads to turn to him when he spoke, eyes growing wide as they gazed at the furious look forming on his face.
“V kidnapped Lillian!” Beth screamed, and Wrath could hear her fists clench and his own did so as he turned to where he was sure V was standing. John and Butch watched from across the room, also angry at what Vicious had done, not just because he had been stupid enough to do it, but also because there was a large and nasty bruise on Lillian’s cheek. Apparently she had awakened while V had kidnapped her and during the struggled she had hit her head against something and said blemish had painted her cheek in seconds.
Wrath stepped over the threshold to where he heard Lillian’s breathing, towering over her, kneeling down as not to scare her. She was not their enemy…Her husband was. Some part of him wondered how such a pure and innocent creature ended up with a beast like the one she had married. “Are you hurt?” He growled, eyes focused on where he assumed her face was, although he was quite a bit off he learned because he felt her smooth hand grab his chin and in that moment he saw her.
It was just while his skin touched hers and he found himself face to face…With an angel. Her face was heart shaped; a widow’s peak at the top of her forehead – much like his – and golden, brown streaked waves down to her shoulders cupped her face. A pair of misty grey eyes, like the ocean during a storm met his and pale, ivory skin fit smoothly over the soft edges of her features.
“You…You are the King,” she whispered, her brow furrowed and a sort of mist settled over her irises. “You have suffered so much,” her voice was cracking and Wrath felt his eyes grow wide – the darkness caving in once more – as she watched him. Unlike Seymour, whose eyes peeled away what you were; her eyes seemed to console something in him, to warm one with just a glance. He felt responsible for her tears, for the pain that was in those grey depths and was saddened…The misery of making her cry washing over him.
But with his last few seconds of sight he saw it…And white hot rage boiled beneath the surface of his skin. There, on her right cheek, was a blemish the size of a small walnut, taking up her whole cheek bone. It was purple and reddish around the edges, his eyes blazing on the spot his chest clenched and his lungs hammered against his rib cage. Wrath pulled away from her grasp, standing slowly and turned to where V stood, eyes narrowed and face twisting up into an ugly snarl that he hadn’t wanted Lillian to see.
“It wasn’t his fault,” Lillian said in a small voice behind him, “I hit a tree trying to escape…Please, please don’t hurt him.”
“Beth, take her into the other room, you two,” Wrath said deep in his throat, unwilling to let Vicious go unpunished, “go too.” Once all four of them had left he turned to V – who he could tell was shaking – and growled deep in his chest. He wouldn’t kill him, he hadn’t hit her…But he had kidnapped her and that was something that he would never accept. Wrath cracked his knuckles, stepping over to the shorter brother…George had left his side to stand far away from his master, as if sensing what was about to happen.
V took his hits surprisingly well, his fists twisting into the skin of his stomach, sending him flying against the wall. He kicked him while he was down, in the face, back, gut; anywhere he could, crushing his ribs slowly while doing so. “Why, why in the Hell did you even do it!?” Wrath roared, picking the other up by the collar of his shirt to where he dangled in front of his face. “Why!?” After a moment he became aware that V had obviously passed out and he grunted, throwing the other down onto the ground and leaving the room. He couldn’t even stand to be in there with him…
“Wrath, Wrath!?” Beth’s voice sounded from downstairs in the TV room and as George guided him down the stairs he could hear what was on the television.
“Reports indicate that this may have been a terrorist attack, the explosion destroyed the entire city in one blow; a series of synchronized explosives may have been the cause. Officials are not releasing any details at this time,” it sounded like a reporter’s voice and as he made it to the landing he stepped into the room and listened. “The government of England is on high alert and is warning anyone in the area to evacuate –“
“What is this about?” Wrath asked with wide eyes and Beth promptly turned the television down, the sound of the remote clattering on the table as she moved over to him.
“A city…Birmingham just…Exploded, the whole city is just a crater now,” she hissed in a low whisper, rendering Wrath silent.
“There are a million people in that city,” he said, brow furrowing to the sound of Lillian’s sobs.
“They think it’s a terrorist attack,” Butch stated, eyes glued to the pictures flashing across the screen of the devastation. There was nothing left, just a charred black hole where the city had once stood.
“It’s not,” Lillian said between her tears, causing all eyes to fall on her and Wrath slowly stepped over to her, kneeling down by her once more.
“What do you mean?” His voice was low and the tingling sensation set in below his skin again, a cold hand gripping his spine with its chilling fingers. What was this?
“It’s him,” she hissed in a shaky voice, “he – he’s looking for me. Please, you have to take me back to him. Otherwise he won’t stop!”
Wrath’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head, standing, backing away till he felt George come up behind him, stopping his back from hitting the wall. “You’re telling me…That Seymour did that?” His voice cut off, body shaking as he close his eyes to the sound of her sniffles.
“Yes,” she whispered, “please…You have to take me back to him.”
“I’m not going to sacrifice you to him,” Wrath growled, “There has to be another way.”
“Sacrifice,” Lillian said, as if the very idea were ridiculous, “what do you mean sacrifice!? You think I am with him unwillingly?”
“What?”
“I love him,” she whispered, her voice sounding harsh from her suppressed tears, “and I must be returned to him…Otherwise this mass killing will continue.”
The whole room was silent with shock, the emotion filling all of their eyes as they stared at Lillian. How was it possible? How could a pure beacon of light have anything to do with the monster of a being that they had all encountered? Beth was the first to speak, “get the car.” John jumped up and ran to the door as Wrath turned to his mate.
“You can’t be serious!” Wrath roared with wide eyes.
“Do you want him to blow up London?!” Beth screamed, “There are six million people in this city! I’m not going to let them die and neither are you. We’re going to go find him and return Lillian to him.”
“Wait,” Wrath growled, causing her to stop in the hallway, “John, Butch, and I will go to find him. You stay here, don’t worry, we’ll get her back to him.” There was a long pause but Beth seemingly relented and moved over to Lillian; Wrath heard a shift of cloth as they hugged and a final sniffle from the young girl as he heard the churn of gravel in the drive. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing his coat once more – George at his side – and out into the fog of the coming night.
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