Page 64 of The Demon's Fire
Sniffling, Jace let the information settle along with dinner. “Hey. This doesn’t mean we stop trying to escape. We will find a way out. This just means we might be a little more comfortable until we do.”
Celene charged into the bedroom, returning withThe Path.“Damn straight.” She started reading aloud.
Parable 9: A great mystic sat by a lake…
ChapterSixteen
Chaumont, NY, 1836
The Arneson Traveling Show came to Chaumont, NY, in 1836, bringing with it colorful wagons and a menagerie of exotic beasts the residents had never seen. A thinly clad woman rode through the village on an elephant, followed by caged wild cats, a polar bear, camel, zebra, and buffalo.
Abrahm Maxwell perched on a wagon seat, a self-dubbed lion tamer. One knee was casually bent with his foot resting on the toe board. His pants were worn, dirty. His flannel shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing thick forearms. His expression was bored, but his alert eyes searched the crowds of villagers for a pretty female of childbearing age. Ramrod straight, suddenly interested, he spotted the perfect choice. Catching her attention, he displayed a seductive smile and a wink, both intended to make her take notice.
He was successful because later the same day while tents were being set up and the animals fed, she walked arm-in-arm with another female, enjoying the buzz of activity accompanying the preparation for the show. The lion tamer sidled over to her, grazing her shoulder. When she turned around, he knew he had chosen wisely. This was the human he would wed and allow to birth his offspring.
Three days later Abrahm Maxwell married sixteen-year-old Emily Caldwell in a quiet ceremony against her parents’ wishes. The judge, a longtime family friend, performed the ceremony with scowling eyes, but since the traveling show con man had already bedded Emily, he had no choice.
On her wedding night, Emily, despite the inexperience of youth, began to suspect life married to this man would not be what she imagined in her dreams. His lovemaking changed from romantic gentleness to violent self-gratification when he forced himself on her over her objections. Despite her tears. For four days he kept a naked Emily in bed to feed his varied sexual appetites. Then he left to rejoin the traveling show, depositing a negligible amount of money on the dresser for her to use until his return.
Abrahm came back to Chaumont in another month, showing up at her doorstep. In his hand he clutched a small bouquet of flowers gathered from a neighbor’s yard, a box of candy from the local five and dime, and a bottle of cheap champagne. Presenting these gifts as if he deserved a great welcome home, he grabbed her into his arms, carrying her into the bedroom where he ripped off her clothes. He took her again and again. When he left, Emily was exhausted, barely aware he had stopped violating her body.
When her parents tried to visit, she hid behind the door, battered, bruised, embarrassed, refusing to let them enter. On trips into town to get food, she donned baggy dresses. With a scarf covering her head, she kept her chin tucked in, her eyes cast to the dirt. Gone was the happy, carefree girl who laughed as she strolled through the carnival ages ago.
Returning to Emily many months later, Abrahm was overjoyed to see she was with child. While he was present, he demanded she cook, clean, wait on him. He berated her continually for her slovenly looks, unclean body, unkept hair, and sullen expression. She shuffled through the house doing what he bid or cowering in the corner until he again called for her.
Abrahm required daily sexual release, but because he feared the unborn child could be harmed, he resorted to activities Emily had never heard of, seen, or dreamed of. When he found her on the bathroom floor trying to slit her wrists with a kitchen knife, he beat her, avoiding any injury to the babe. She vowed she would never bring his baby into this world. To make sure she did, Abrahm tied her to the bed for the remaining month of her pregnancy. Daily she fought him while he fed her, gave her drink, or made her touch him until he could ejaculate.
When the pains of childbirth began, he fetched a midwife from the village. Stepping through the bedroom door, the woman held her arm to her nose. The stench! Emily lay in her own filth with her wrists bloodied by the constant friction of the ropes restraining her to the bed, strings against which she struggled constantly. The villager had no time to do anything but recognize the deplorable conditions. The babe was coming.
Emily screamed, rambling incoherently in her pain, but when the infant breathed its first breath, she lost all hope. She expired, saying to the midwife, “He’s not human, you know.”
Without a glance or concern for his wife, Abrahm snatched his son from the midwife’s arms. The child was strong, healthy, nothing like the lad’s mother.
Chuckling, he returned the babe to the female, told her to take him to the Caldwell’s house, walked out the door, and rejoined the traveling show. Even if the persistent Scion Firebrand demon successfully avenged the death of his parents, Abrahm’s line would continue.
****
Bilerose inKole’s throat. He had stopped listening to Skyler’s story after she spoke the name Abrahm.
No. It can’t be. The carnal demon who murdered my parents sired a child? The descendant of the monster who orphaned me is the female I’m protecting on Darque? Perhaps that’s why we’ve clashed from the start.
When she stopped talking, Kole bent forward to stare. Skyler had fallen into a fitful sleep, twitching with what he imagined was unbearable pain. He removed his arm from under her head when sparks began to ignite on the tips of his fingers. Rising before the first hint of daylight, he walked from the safety of the boulders, anywhere away from the descendant of Abrahm. He gasped for air, his chest expanding. Contracting. He couldn’t get enough of it.
At age ten, Kole had found the bodies. Abrahm and a band of renegades fighting in the Demon Insurrection had killed his parents in their own home. A Firebrand investigation revealed Hestia had died first, her head severed from her body. Likely, Aedon, distracted and trying to save her, lost his own life to the same blade.
Logic told him Skyler was not to blame for Abrahm’s actions. Still, his enemy’s blood ran through her veins. He had spawned her line. Kole jerked around when she moaned.
Skyler shifted under the blankets and coats. “Kole?” Her weak voice was barely above a whisper.
Ignore her.
She’ll give up, go back to sleep.
He couldn’t be anywhere near the descendant of his parents’ killer. He released a stream of fire at a nearby boulder.
“Kole, are you out there? Are you okay?”
He heard the soft shuffling of the blanket and jackets. She was getting off the pallet.
