Aphrodite
Chapter 21

In the depths of night, Rachel’s mind was thrust into the heart of Inanis, where the air was thick with a cold that seeped into her bones. Here, the Abaddon existed as a formless entity of darkness. His voice sought her out, a relentless plea for liberation.

The nightmare landscape morphed into a labyrinth of ice, its walls shimmering. Rachel ran, her footsteps echoing in the frozen corridors. The Abaddon’s presence was an oppressive weight, his shadow form flickering at the edges of her vision, always just out of reach, yet suffocatingly close. The air around her vibrated with his bone-chilling screeches.

As she navigated the labyrinth, the distinction between hunter and hunted blurred. The Abaddon’s whispers grew more desperate, promising freedom, pleading for her to extend her powers to shatter his icy prison. Panic surged within Rachel as the walls seemed to close in, the cold biting at her flesh, the darkness attempting to swallow her whole.

Her fear found a voice in a scream so piercing it shattered the boundary between dream and reality, pulling her back into the waking world. Heart racing and covered in sweat, she was met by Vlad’s worried eyes in the dim light of their room.

“Rachel? What’s wrong?” His voice barely cut through the fog of her fear.

Without words, she sought refuge in his embrace, her terror slowly ebbing away in the safety of his arms. Together in the quiet before dawn, they held onto each other, a silent promise to ward off the darkness, waiting for the morning light to chase away the remnants of the night’s fear.

As dawn broke, Rachel awoke. Her eyes fluttered open to Vlad, who was already up and about, dressed for the day. She observed his tousled hair and the hint of stubble darkening his jawline.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. You should try to get some more rest,” Vlad suggested softly, securing the buttons on his shirt.

A playful spark lit up Rachel’s eyes as she gestured to the empty space beside her on the bed. “Why not come back here? We could spend a bit more time getting to know each other,” she teased.

Vlad’s laughter filled the room, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Tempting offer, Aphrodite. I’d relish the opportunity to explore you, but responsibilities await.”

“Again? I thought you were here to protect the portal, but you appear to spend more time in my bed and out in the city. Isn’t there a risk the Abaddon will get through without you here?”

Observing Vlad’s unwavering commitment to safeguarding not just the portal but other creatures as well, Rachel felt a deep respect for him. His willingness to face dangers head-on, for the sake of others, truly set him apart.

“Your strength and our precautions should keep him at bay for the time being,” he assured her, pausing to tie his shoes. “However, I can’t let the humans capture another creature. They grow more powerful with each new piece of knowledge they gain about us.”

Rachel adjusted herself to get a better look at him, a question forming in her mind. “But the humans can’t be as dangerous as the Abaddon, can they?”

Vlad straightened up, a serious look crossing his face. “I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but the Abaddon is on our side. In a war between creatures, he is undoubtedly our enemy. However, when creatures unite against humans, he would stand with us.”

Rachel felt a wave of disbelief wash over her. “How can you say that? You’re telling me that the most terrifying being I’ve encountered is somehow less of a threat than humans, who, by the way, have no abilities?”

“I wish I didn’t have to burden you with this, Rachel, but the situation worsened last night. I have to leave, but I’ll be back before the evening. You’re strong, more than you realise, and Estella will be here with you.” Vlad’s tone was apologetic, his concern evident as he leaned in for a brief, reassuring kiss. “Please, stay safe,” he urged before leaving her to process the daunting reality of their circumstances.

No sooner had the door clicked shut than Rachel found herself tormented by the Abaddon’s eerie shrieks, a sound that grated on her psyche like nails on a chalkboard. She pressed her hands over her ears, but it did nothing to silence the dreadful sound. With eyes squeezed shut, she envisioned the Abaddon, a shadowy, demonic figure. In a burst of frustration and newfound power, she shouted at the top of her lungs, “Shut up!” Her command sent a shockwave tearing through Inanis, fissuring the icy realm in its path. “I’m trying to sleep!”

After spending a few more hours wrestling with her thoughts and the remnants of her unsettling dreams, Rachel headed for the kitchen. She discovered Estella seated at the breakfast bar, engrossed in her laptop, an empty glass that once held a strawberry smoothie sitting quietly beside her.

“Look who’s finally decided to join the world,” Estella quipped, momentarily halting her work to look at Rachel. “So, did you and Vlad finally manage to seal the bond?”

Rachel brushed off the question with a wave of her hand as she made her way to the fridge. Upon opening it, her eyes landed on a vibrant dragon fruit sitting on the middle shelf, its unique appearance catching her eye. “This looks incredibly fresh,” she noted aloud, retrieving the fruit and beginning to slice it open on a plate. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Maybe we should spend some time researching today,” Estella proposed, closing her laptop.

As Rachel savored the refreshing taste of the dragon fruit, she raised an eyebrow at Estella’s unexpected eagerness. “I’m surprised you’re so into this idea.”

“Opportunities to dive into those books are rare. Vlad only left because another creature was in trouble. He’d say no if you asked for permission to go into the library.” While Estella’s devotion to Vlad was clear, her willingness to suggest something so against his wishes was surprising.

Rachel, still nibbling on her fruit, looked thoughtful. “You’re always so loyal to Vlad. Are you sure you’re okay with bending his rules like this?”

“I’ve been reaching out, trying to find a way to resolve our situation. But I keep running into walls. Seeing you and Vlad grow closer has made me realise we need to take action. If bending his rules could potentially protect you both, then it’s a risk I’m prepared to take. Sometimes, Vlad’s determination can be a hindrance.”

Rachel was comforted by the thought that, even if they were discovered, Estella’s intentions were in the right place.

After quickly finishing her dragon fruit, Rachel cleaned her hands and then reached for Estella’s hand, guiding her towards the library. They were both determined to delve into the books, hoping to uncover answers.

Pausing in front of the painting of the woman, Rachel observed something peculiar. “That’s odd,” she commented, her attention caught by the direction of the painted woman’s gaze—it was fixed on the bookcase beside the piano. “These paintings give me the chills. It’s like their eyes follow you, almost as if they could spring to life at any moment.”

Estella’s laughter lightened the atmosphere as she moved closer to the bookshelf. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it? There are legends about creatures who can signal the living from the underworld, and some can even communicate with them. But it’s a bit of a dark art,” she explained, her fingers trailing over the spines of the books on the middle shelf, squinting to decipher the titles.

Puzzled by the method in Estella’s search, Rachel asked, “How can you tell them apart?”

“These are personal journals. LDL stands for Leonardo De Luca,” Estella revealed, her finger stopping at a volume towards the end of the shelf. She then moved her hand up to the next shelf, selecting another book midway through. “All these belong to him.”

Positioned next to the piano, Rachel took note of the books Estella highlighted. “How are you so certain this creature had information about the Phoenix?”

“Leonardo lived in Italy with his family. He took records of all the creatures he came across in Italy,” Estella explained, her finger gesturing towards the painting. “And, of course, madam is looking in this direction.”

Rachel was puzzled by the notion that the woman in the painting could somehow guide their search. “Where do we start?”

Estella pulled the first book with LDL on the spine and handed it to her. “At the beginning. We will each skim through a book until we find something.”

“Isn’t there a way to narrow down our search? There are so many books; going through them all could take days, and we don’t have that luxury.”

Estella sighed, taking a seat on the piano stool with a resigned look. “The truth is, we don’t know exactly when Leonardo might have crossed paths with the Phoenix, or even if he did at all. I wish there was a faster way, but right now, this lead is all we have.”

Sitting beside Estella, Rachel couldn’t hide her disappointment but acknowledged the reality of their situation. “You’re right. We have to start somewhere.”

With their task set before them, they each picked up a journal, diving into its contents. Page by page, they searched the writings, hopeful that somewhere within these volumes lay a clue about the Phoenix they so desperately sought.

****

Time slipped away as Rachel and Estella dived deep into the intriguing world Leonardo De Luca had documented. Their search for any mention of the Phoenix, however, proved fruitless. Amidst their focused reading, they found moments to share interesting snippets about various creatures, adding a bit of lightness to their intense research session.

Beside Rachel, a growing collection of Leonardo’s journals served as evidence of their thorough examination. Reading through them was no easy task. Leonardo’s English was patchy, his handwriting a challenge to decipher, and his approach to documenting his encounters was somewhat scattered. His notes often felt like quick thoughts scribbled down in a rush, sometimes shifting from one creature to another mid-sentence.

Suddenly, Estella’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Ah! Here!” she exclaimed, flipping through the pages. “Leonardo was investigating a story from farmers in the mountains. They reported a winged creature appearing on the Devil’s hand. Some believed it was a giant eagle, while others called it a demon.

“His journey led him south from Reggio Calabria, through rugged mountain trails. When he arrived at the town lying at the mountain’s base, he found the people there refusing to discuss it. He made his way to a town beneath the Devil’s hand, where he consulted the Baron. The Baron did admit to sightings of a massive bird each year as spring dawned. He dismissed these occurrences as tricks of light or illusions caused by lightning.

“Convinced it wasn’t worth waiting half a year to see if the creature would reappear, Leonardo found that those living nearest to where the sightings occurred dismissed the idea, believing the creature to be nothing more than an eagle,” Estella recounted.”

Feeling disheartened, Rachel said, “Maybe they showed Leonardo proof that it was just a bird if he was so willing to dismiss it?”

“Proof? Keep in mind, Leonardo lived in the 1600s. His only ‘proof’ would have been the townspeople’s testimony,” Estella pointed out, her tone suggesting she was beginning to ponder the possibility that Leonardo might have stumbled upon something more significant.

“Where is this Devil’s hand?”

“I’d need to check my laptop for that. Maybe we should continue reading for now. I can look it up online later. We’re on borrowed time with these journals, after all.”

Rachel couldn’t help but smile, encouraged by Estella’s proactive attitude. “Let’s do that,” she said with a nod.

Their attention soon turned to another of Leonardo’s entries, which detailed an equally fascinating creature. It was said to reside within a cave overlooking Vico Lake, rumoured to be the abode of the Devil himself, known as the Devil’s Well. Intrigued by this tale, Leonardo set out on a journey to investigate the cave and uncover the truth behind the stories.

Rachel’s focus was disrupted by a piano chord that sliced through the quiet. Surprised, she scanned the room, noting the closed piano, yet the melody continued, swelling into a vibrant jazz tune.

Rising, she sought the music’s origin, which clearly wasn’t the piano. At that moment, a flicker of purple essence ignited on her hand. It moved with purpose towards the painting of a young woman, focusing on a spot in the bottom left corner that pulsated, inviting Rachel nearer.

Rachel felt drawn in. Guided by her essence, she reached out, and with a touch to the painting, her surroundings shifted.

She found herself in what seemed like a jazz club from the roaring twenties. A stage came to life a short distance away, hosting a full band and a singer dressed in a maroon flapper dress adorned with black trim.

The club’s interior exuded the opulence of the era with plush velvet curtains that draped the walls in a rich, deep red. Overhead, crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a warm, golden light, which danced off the surfaces of ornate mirrors that lined the walls.

The club was stuffy, the atmosphere thick with the aroma of cigarette smoke. As she navigated through the crowded space, a dancing couple bumped into her, motioning apologetically for her to find a different spot. The club was so packed it was nearly impossible to move without jostling someone.

Out of nowhere, she felt a firm grip on her wrist. Before she could react, she was being guided through the throng of people, away from the sweltering dance floor and towards a more secluded booth.

“Hello, dear,” greeted a woman with a warm southern drawl, her skin pale against the dim lighting of the club. She slid into the booth beside Rachel and waved down a server, calling out for two drinks. Without missing a beat, the woman opened her black clutch, retrieving a cigarette. “You don’t smoke, do you?”

Rachel, still processing the sudden change of scenery, replied cautiously, “Do I know you?”

The woman chuckled softly as she lit her cigarette, a smile playing on her lips. “No, dear,” she answered, exhaling a stream of smoke before turning to give Rachel her full attention.

Rachel stared in disbelief. “You’re the woman from the painting. But how is this possible?”

“Violet’s the name,” the woman replied with a casual elegance. At that moment, a waiter approached, placing two cocktails in coupe glasses on their table. Violet slid one glass towards Rachel and lifted the other to her lips. “Cheers,” she toasted.

Rachel licked her lips, questioning the reality of the situation. She took a sip, and as the gin hit her taste buds, she became convinced that this was more than just a dream.

“You look confused, dear.”

“I thought this was a dream.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed you knew of your abilities. I sensed you when you used it a short while ago.”

Rachel tried to make sense of her surroundings. “Forgive me, but I’m really confused. I touched a painting, and suddenly I’m inside it. Instead of meeting a woman from the nineteenth century, I find myself in a jazz club that seems straight out of the twenties. And you’re telling me this is real?” Overwhelmed, she took a large gulp of her cocktail, trying to calm her nerves.

Violet offered a sympathetic nod, taking a drag from her cigarette. “I’m sorry for the confusion. I thought you already knew, but since you’re here, let me explain. I’m like you, or at least I was—a creature,” she began, her eyes reflecting memories of another time. “I was born in 1748 and ended up here in 1982. This era, the twenties, was my favourite—the energy, the parties, they were simply divine.”

“A creature like me? You are an Aphrodite?”

“No, not quite. Vlad used to call me an energy vampire. I drew my essence from human emotions, but I always favoured the positive ones. Parties, celebrations, joyous gatherings—that’s where I thrived.”

Rachel nodded, a slight smirk forming. “Sounds more enjoyable than feeding off human blood, I guess. And when you say you ‘came here,’ do you mean to this painting?”

Violet exhaled a stream of smoke, her expression turning more serious as she flicked her cigarette into the crystal ashtray. “No, dear. I mean the underworld.”

Rachel’s grip tightened, and in a swift, startled motion, she set her glass down forcefully. “I’m not dead.”

Violet gave a small, reassuring smile. “Well, I’m not entirely sure about the specifics of your abilities, but you are indeed among the dead right now. That much is certain.” She gently nudged the cocktail glass back towards Rachel. “I didn’t bring you here to frighten you. Have a drink, try to relax.”

With her mind racing, Rachel hesitated but then took another sip of her cocktail, attempting to soothe her swirling thoughts. “I have so many questions, I don’t know where to begin.”

Violet glanced around. “Let’s not linger too long. We are on a tight schedule,” she reminded Rachel, indicating that their time in this surreal junction between worlds was limited.

“Why?”

“Because you are dead, my dear. You can only stay dead for so long.”

Rachel felt her chest tighten, struggling to digest Violet’s words.

Seeing Rachel’s distress, Violet continued, ” Okay, while you’re having a panic attack, I’ll answer the first question you’re probably going to ask. How I died.” She paused, taking a long drag from her cigarette. “I underestimated humans. You see, when you’ve been around as long as I have, you think you know them inside and out. I got so absorbed in all my parties that I lost sight of their advancements. Vlad tried to warn me. He said these humans were capturing creatures and experimenting on them. Apparently, I ended up on their radar, and I misjudged their capabilities. Needless to say, here I am.”

Rachel’s expression turned to one of horror as she processed Violet’s words. “The humans captured you and killed you during their experiments?”

“That’s right. I’d rather not delve into the details, but take it from someone who learned the hard way—avoid getting caught by humans at all costs. Heed Vlad’s warnings; he knows what he’s talking about.”

“How do you know Vlad still talks about it? Perhaps the humans are no longer a threat.”

“Vlad visits my room, we talk. I know he’s still very much concerned about the human threat. He worries about you, Rachel. You need to trust him. I didn’t, and look where that got me.” Her gaze briefly swept the jazz club, a poignant reminder of her eternal confinement within this fragment of the past.

“Doesn’t look like you got the raw end of the stick. He speaks to you? But you are dead?”

“It’s a one-way conversation. And as for the raw end of the stick, as you call it, there are things here I’d rather not be around. I would give anything to return to the realm of the living. I miss everyone dearly, and there are wonderful humans I will never see again.” She stared into her glass, swirling the liquid, her gaze distant.

Rachel’s thoughts drifted to Henri, the figure from the other painting, who had felt so undeniably human. “Only creatures can join the underworld? I’m sure the other painting had a human in it.”

“That’s possible. I’ve heard that some creatures have the ability to lock memories into paintings.”

The sudden cessation of music set Rachel’s nerves on edge, and Violet’s swift grasp of her hand did nothing to soothe her rising panic. “You must leave. You cannot let him capture you.”

Rachel’s breath caught in her throat as anxiety overwhelmed her. She was out of her depth, with no idea how to return to her own world.

The figure that had silenced the room now advanced towards them. Rachel couldn’t tear her eyes away from the intricate patterns that adorned his black armour. His long, dark hair flowed down his back, contrasting with his eerily pale skin. As he drew closer, a tangible tension filled the air, and Rachel could feel the temperature around her plummet.

Rachel’s pulse raced as she scanned the room, searching for any possible exit. The once vibrant atmosphere of the jazz club had shifted; the crowd now stood frozen in fear. As the creature drew closer, the murmurs of the crowd faded into a fearful silence. Rachel felt her options narrowing as the room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in with the creature’s every step.

Rachel pressed herself further into the booth, attempting to make herself as small as possible. The mysterious figure towered over everyone, casting an imposing shadow as he moved through the club. His attire was simple: loose-fitting black pants held up by a black belt, yet it did little to conceal his impressive muscular form. It was evident that he was a formidable opponent, someone who had seen his fair share of battles.

His chiselled jaw and pale skin gave him a striking appearance that was only enhanced by the intensity of his black eyes.

The gritty voice of the imposing figure filled the room, causing those around him to cower in fear. “The dead do not pass the gates without my knowledge. How did you get here?” His stern gaze settled on Rachel and Violet, his anger palpable and causing Violet’s hand to tremble beside her.

“I’m so sorry,” Violet whispered, seemingly powerless in his presence.

He stepped closer, his voice booming as he addressed the crowd. “Witness this day, creatures of the underworld. Another foolish creature who thought they could sneak into this realm without penalty. This creature will join us now for eternity.” He lifted his arms, and everyone in the club repeated after him, “for eternity.”

Rachel’s breath came in sharp, panicked gasps as fear clutched at her chest, believing her end was near. In a desperate plea, she cried out, “Please! Wait!”

As her plea echoed through the club, a sudden warmth flooded her hands. She opened her palms, and a burst of purple light surged upward, illuminating the room and drawing gasps of awe from the surrounding guests. The imposing figure watched the display, his expression unchanging as he crossed his arms and grumbled with a hint of recognition and annoyance, “Aphrodite. Another body.”

Rachel glanced at Violet, unsure how he could have known her identity. “Stay back!” she called out sharply.

Ignoring her warning, he reached out, grabbed Violet, and yanked her roughly from the booth. When he extended his hand toward Rachel, instinct took over. Her hand glowed with an intense purple light, and she reacted without thinking. The light surged from her palm and struck his bare chest, searing his skin. He grunted in pain, raising his arm to shield himself with his armour from her unexpected assault.

The burn left a long, dark slash across the left side of his upper chest—blackened and eerily bloodless. His eyes, now alight with a fierce fury, bore into Rachel, promising retribution.

“I have been patient with your comings and goings because you’ve respected the proper channels. Now you come here, mock the gateway to the underworld, and try to make me look like a fool. It’s time you stop running from the creature of darkness,” he declared.

With a swift movement, he lunged towards Rachel, skilfully dodging the streams of purple light she frantically aimed at him. She raised her arms, bracing for impact. However, instead of an attack, his touch was light, almost curious. Confusion washed over her as she looked back at him, trying to understand his intentions.

“You forgot my powers,” he said, a hint of grim resolve in his tone.

A white light enveloped her arm. Like a jolt of lightning, electricity surged through her body. She gasped as she opened her eyes. Pain pulsed in her head, and her breathing quickened.

“Rachel!” Estella’s panicked voice reached her ears. “You stopped breathing. Your heart, and then you were back.” Estella fumbled for words, baffled by the unfolding events.

As he touched her, a stark white light enveloped Rachel’s arm. It was more than just a touch—it was a forceful jolt, like a powerful electric current resuscitating her very essence. The sensation was intense as it surged through her body. Rachel inhaled, her body reacting to the sudden revival. As the shock subsided, she found herself gasping for air, her head pounding. Her senses slowly recalibrated as she realised she was being forcefully pulled back into the realm of the living, expelled from the underworld by his commanding power.

Rachel glanced back at the painting, her mind reeling as she pondered whether her brief death had been the gateway to meeting Violet in the underworld. She had revived the bird, and now it seemed she might have inadvertently done the same for herself. The underworld creature had tapped into and amplified her abilities, thrusting her back into the realm of the living. The experience was baffling, yet undeniably real.

As Rachel reflected on her unsettling encounter, the overwhelming power of the underworld creature lingered in her mind. His recognition of her identity was deeply disconcerting. The growing possibility that she might indeed be the only Aphrodite left her with more questions than answers. Why couldn’t she remember her previous lives?

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