Chapter 39 - Battle of Wills

I remembered very little of the drive. The closer I got to the castle, the more my nerves got to me. I wasn't worried about seeing Vycandor again. No. I was more worried about seeing my friends. As much as I hated to admit it, Serenity hadn't told me how to save them because there was no bringing back zombies from the dead. So, now, not only was I on a mission to destroy Vycandor, I was also on a mission to destroy the castle - along with every zombie dwelling inside.

Even my friends.

Besides, I couldn't sit by and allow them to roam the earth while feeding off the living. They deserved better than that. They deserved to be put to rest. I just didn't want to be the one to have to do it.

I went over Serenity's instructions in my head for not only raising the power, but controlling it as well. And, in case my power failed, at least I had back up. If you could even call it that. Outfitted in more leather than a cow, I had the protection of the armor. Also, I reminded myself, I had my trusty squirt gun...in case I got thirsty.

I parked the car in the same place as I found it and got out, closing the door as quietly as possible.

There were no outside lights on, but it wasn't completely dark just yet. What little I could see of the moon peeking in and out of the clouds cast an unearthly light as I crept across the lawn - careful to keep to the shadows.

Silhouetted against the dying sunlight the Kalamazoo Castle looked hauntingly magnificent.

I smiled to myself. It was sure to look even better burning in a blaze of glory. And I was just the one to do it.

Finally reaching the porch, the ancient wood squeaked under my feet. Perched angrily on either side of the castle door to greet me were two ominous looking gargoyle statues. As I slowly crept inside, tip-toeing across the foyer, the wooden floors groaned and complained with every tentative step.

I was a fool if I thought I was sneaking up on anyone.

Making my way to the grand staircase, I decided to search for Vycandor's lair. Call me crazy, but I didn't think I would find it on the first floor. No. Something told me it would be deeper than that. Much, much deeper.

Did I mention I hate basements?

Something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned in the direction and saw an eerie red light emitting from behind a door almost completely hidden by a bookshelf.

A secret passageway.

I slid the door open further to find a narrow curved staircase that looked like it descended straight into the bowels of hell. Hesitant, my boots scraped across the stone as I eased carefully down the steep staircase. Before long something sticky touched my face and arms. I strangled a scream and vigorously brushed cobwebs out of my way, hoping beyond hope that they weren't crawling with spiders.

Heart slamming against my chest, I lost my footing and fell the rest of the way down the stairs, landing in a dusty heap at the bottom. Shaking the cobwebs from my brain, not to mention my hair, I raised my head and found myself in a tunnel lit by torches anchored to carved stone walls.

I got up, brushed myself off, and tried to decide which way to go. I turned to the right - oddly drawn by an unseen force I couldn't resist. Apprehension growing with each tentative step, I found myself standing outside a massive door that looked suspiciously a lot like the door to a dungeon.

Taking a deep breath, I reached for the ancient handle and turned it. The latch clicked, echoing loudly as it released from the catch. I pushed on the heavy, iron bound door. It creaked slowly open like a lid lifting off a coffin.

I had to slap my hand over my nose, trying hard not to puke my guts out when the pungent odor of rotting flesh assaulted me.

I didn't need a sign to tell me I'd found the lair. The smell was enough.

Holding my breath, I crossed the threshold. Unfortunately I knew it was only a matter of time before I got used to the sickening smell of death. Disgusting, but true.

Filled with both anticipation and dread, I made my way to the middle of the cave-like room. Steeped in deep scarlet hues, my eyes dragged upwards to an enormous iron chandelier stuffed with glowing red pillar candles. The only other light source came from countless torches anchored to the stone walls that blazed menacingly.

There were no windows. Only five formidable looking doors. At least fifty feet in front of me I counted three stairs leading up to something that looked suspiciously like a pulpit. Two iron candelabras flanked an imposing looking throne placed directly in the center. Behind the pulpit was another wooden door, this one deeply recessed within several arched openings carved entirely out of stone.

As I continued to look around, I realized with something close to horror that I was actually standing in a dungeon.

That's when I felt it. The impossible weight of his stare.

"Chaos," Vycandor's sultry voice called as if trying to wrap me up in silken bonds. "How very noble of you to return for your friends."

Turning in the direction of his voice, I found him seated on the throne. No. Seated wasn't quite the right word. He more like dominated the throne.

Could he possibly be any more arrogant?

I choked back a laugh. "I didn't mean to interrupt your little fortress of doom. Why don't you save us both a lot of time and just tell me where they are."

Even the dimness of the dungeon couldn't hide the chiseled features of his face, or dull his glittering cat-like eyes. There was just no way around it. He was just that darkly alluring.

Suddenly shifting out of the shadows, he appeared in full view. The effect reminded me of when a black and white movie instantly changes to color. Like the Wizard of Oz. The only difference being, which one of us was Oz?

As if answering my question, I felt a pull somewhere deep down inside. It didn't have anything to do with my power. I knew without quite knowing how that it had everything to do with his.

"You shall be united with your friends, however..." His voice trailed off as something else began to burn behind his eyes. Something hypnotic and deadly. He sat forward on the throne, long sleek hair spilling over his shoulder as his green eyes scorched mine. "I have something to discuss with you first."

Stunningly handsome as usual, he wore another impeccably tailored, yet old-fashioned suit that made him look like an escapee from a renaissance festival. He'd obviously gone to a lot of trouble to impress me.

Gee, I felt special.

The short black waist coat he wore matched his ultra form fitting black pants. A crisp, high collared white shirt peeked through a crimson colored double breasted vest, while a black ascot tie elegantly adorned his neck.

His highly refined mannerisms reminded me of an aristocrat. The way he sat up straight on the throne and didn't slouch. The way he enunciated each word perfectly and didn't mumble. Especially the way he acted so superior like he thought he was better than everyone else. Yeah, that part was seriously getting on my very last nerve.

There are times when I blurt out exactly what I'm thinking when it's extremely inappropriate. I could tell this was going to be one of those times.

"What the hell are you wearing?" I didn't bother to disguise my humor.

Vycandor didn't answer. I tried to read the frozen expression on his handsome face, but couldn't. So I gave up.

He motioned to the armor. "Why are you wearing that?"

Embarrassed, I lowered my eyes, then quickly glanced back up. "I wore this ridiculous thing for you." I paused to smile before adding, "For protection." It was an honest answer. Not that I made it a habit to open myself up to criticism. But I suddenly found myself strangely curious about his opinion. "Why, what's wrong with it?"

"You look like a moving violation," he answered, face unreadable. "Is it working?"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "So far, so good."

Vycandor smiled devilishly, flashing his fangs. "We shall see, we shall see."

That almost sounded like a threat. I wasn't sure, so I let it go. For now anyway.

I cleared my throat. "You never answered my question."

He lifted a heavy brow. "And what question would that be?"

"Why do you dress like that?" My insult didn't seem to faze him.

"It is simply my preference." He returned my smile, trying to appear harmless. Yeah riiight. He was about as harmless as the devil holding a pitchfork.

"Did you come here to criticize me?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Just curious."

His haunting voice slid across the massive room, and then slithered right up my spine. I really hated it when he did that.

Shifting suddenly on his throne, he breathed, "Your power calls to me. Why did I not feel it before?"

I gave him a shrug. "How should I know? I don't speak zombie."

Vycandor disappeared from the pulpit. His answering power filled the dungeon with icy, skin-crawling energy like a shiver of frostbite.

Unimpressed, I opened my mouth to tell him to knock if off when his breath was suddenly on the back of my neck. My heart caught, skipped a beat, and then started beating even faster as my blood raced through my veins.

He chuckled as if aware of the effect he had on me. Why did he have to enjoy torturing me so much? Standing so closely together, the coolness radiating from his body reminded me of dry ice.

Slowly turning around I concentrated on breathing, allowing warm power to curl inside me like a poisonous snake. Refusing to show him any fear, I didn't pull away when he reached for my arm. His impossibly cold skin felt like it could almost burn when he touched me.

But there was also something else. Something strangely familiar about him. Like I'd known him for a lot longer than a day.

I glanced down at the way he held my hand, noticing his skin was now a slightly darker shade of blue. It stood out in stark contrast against mine, which was now the sickening color of pea soup.

Lifting my gaze, I found his mouth and tensed. Strange that his lips were the exact same color as a bowlful of cherries. As if to ease my discomfort, he gave a gentle smile that made deep indentations in both cheeks.

I gasped and pulled away. I had a serious problem with that. Monsters shouldn't have dimples. Especially monsters that looked like eye candy. His kind of candy should be illegal.

Vycandor placed a cold as death finger under my chin, tilting my face up with a relentless hand, while the other traced the stitches swirling around my face. I found myself squarely meeting his intense gaze as the power of his icy touch traveled along my skin, making me shiver against my will. Something rose up in the depths of his mysterious eyes as if trying to bind me with a cloak of darkness.

"Come with me, Chaos," he breathed in my ear. His voice was like warm honey, all sickly sweet with the ability to put me under his spell.

Even though I knew I had the power to resist him now, I allowed myself to get sucked in. Continuing to stare into his eyes, I drank in his impossible beauty and actually felt him mentally trying to disarm me.

Truth be told I was more than a little attracted to a monster I craved with an intensity I couldn't explain. However, this beautiful creature was also my sworn enemy.

Knowing he enjoyed his little cat and mouse games, I couldn't help wondering which one of us he considered to be the poor helpless little mouse, and which one of us he considered to be the sick, sadistic cat.

The fun was good while it lasted, but sooner or later it had to end. For him that is.

I gathered all of my strength and dropped my gaze. The broken bond between us sounded like glass shattering in my mind.

"Don't fight it, Chaos," he whispered in a silky voice. "Stay here with me as I rule over a whole new world."

I frowned. "What do I look like, some kind of zombie groupie?"

He clenched his jaw, lowering his voice into a vicious warning. "If you do not obey me and do as you are told, I will have to break you."

Now that sounded like a threat. "Sorry about your luck, but I'm not good at following orders."

A bitter smile curved his sensual mouth. "Are you abusing my hospitality?"

I shrugged. "I guess you could say that since I came here to destroy you."

He threw back his head and laughed.

"I'm glad I amuse you, but I didn't come here to play games." Without him looking, I pulled out the gun I'd strapped to my thigh.

Sensing the movement, he grew quiet. Good to know I finally had his attention.

His gaze shifted to the gun, before meeting my humorless eyes. "Surely you do not intend on using that toy on me?"

I shrugged again.

A faint smile twisted his lips. "For your disobedience, I will make certain you serve me for all eternity."

My turn to laugh. "I hate to disappoint you, but I'm nobody's pet."

Vycandor's growl was sudden and furious. I didn't even have time to react when in a sudden, violent movement he ripped off everything on his upper body, with the exception of his shirt that somehow still managed to cling to his body. Tearing the rest to shreds in front of my face, he sent buttons and pieces of fabric flying out in all directions. Some of which even ended up landing on me.

Standing before me, his ample chest heaved up and down from the exertion. I tried, but I couldn't stop staring as the muscles under his newly ripped shirt played peek-a-boo whenever he made the slightest movement. Out of sheer frustration for my continued defiance he grabbed the shirt off his back, ripping it to shreds for effect.

Hidden under his incredibly restrictive clothing was a body to die for. Besides an impressive chest, he had strong muscular arms, a narrow waist, and six pack abs. His rippling muscles, now drenched in sweat, looked hard as steel as they gleamed in the torchlight.

Despite an uncontrollable attraction to a hottie monster with a zesty bod, my embarrassing crush was actually the least of my concerns. I had to destroy this monster before he put me under a spell and turned me into his slave forever.