All Of Me (Book 3 of Lastor Series)

Chapter 8: Malachi

I stared out the window, watching as the land below slowly disappeared from my view and all our efforts with it. I still didn't understand how it all came to be this way.

"Do you think she's still there?" Jakob asked as he sat across from me.

"She's probably gone now," I said quietly in regret. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "We didn't have a chance."

"She gave me one. I had her alone." I curled my hands into fists. "I wasted it."

"Did you hold back?"

I shook my head. "In the beginning, yes. But along the way, I... started trying to kill her."

"Was she really that strong?" he asked dubiously. "She was as short as Ava and skinnier than Summer."

"No, she wasn't strong," I said as I brushed my fingers against my side, the pain from her fists already diminishing after just a week of healing. "But she knew where to hit and after a while, it almost seemed like she knew where I would hit too."

"It didn't appear like that when she walked out," he muttered dryly.

My brows furrowed as I recalled our fight. "She let all my attacks land. The only times she blocked or diverted my attacks were when I aimed for her chest."

"Father said she had a heart transplant, it's sensible to focus her defenses on it." He rolled his shoulders, his movements stiff. "I was afraid of her," he mumbled, clenching his fists. "I had her right in front of me. She was already beaten down and exhausted. I could have taken her hostage, but I was too afraid to dare. She looked like Mama but her presence... it was just like Father's." He unclenched his fists, rubbing his palms against his cheeks. "Why did he lie? If we'd known what she was capable of, we could have prepared for it."

"I don't think he lied," I said, shaking my head. "I think... I think the Vivien he knows is different from the Vivien we met. She was so glorious."

"Why does it sound like you admire her, Mal?" he spat in disapproval.

I pursed my lips, lowering my gaze. "I'm only speaking frankly."

"Well, watch how you speak." He leaned forward, regarding me with no hint of humor. "Father is our master. Not her."

"I know," I said, a bitter taste filling my mouth.

Father was our master and all my life, I had submitted to his rule. As a clueless boy, I revered him. He was a God in my eyes. Even as I watched him break into pieces my mother and younger siblings, I still followed him. But these days, I've found it hard to remain on my knees. He had become weak. His wealth diminished, his worldly authority all but gone, his sanity unraveling, and his physique that of a dying old man. But still, I remained loyal in my service because I couldn't see a life outside of him. Now though, I couldn't help but wonder.

Why must I serve such a weak master when I had found a perfect being in my other half?

********

Father was quiet. He was always quiet when he was delivering his punishments. I had often thought it was almost like he was praying for our damned souls, cleansing us at every lashing.

"I'm struggling to comprehend how such a failure occurred under your supervision," he said in a hush voice, his rage holding me still. "Did you not say you would bring her to me?" He whipped me when I didn't respond. "I asked a question."

"I did," I whispered.

"Then why is she not here, Malachi?" he said through gritted teeth.

I kept my head down, breathing through the pain. "She... was nothing like you said."

He whipped me again, blood streaking down my back. "You blame me for your incompetence, boy?"

I shook my head. "No, Father. I meant she wasn't anything like what I'd read and heard about her. It was overwhelming, seeing what you've made of her. I couldn't bear with it."

He brought down the whip on my back with greater force and I strained against my chains, a cry nearly escaping me. "I am aware of what she is," he hissed. "That is why my son cannot have her. She thrives with him."

I smothered the spark of envy that came to me at hearing him call Jude his son. Not even Jakob, the most loyal to him, was ever granted the title. After what Jude has done to him, how could he still see him as a son? What did he have that my brothers and I didn't? Was Jude the same as Vivien? Was he perfect too?

"She spoke of her love," I mumbled. "She said he doesn't let her fight unless she's under threat. Whoever this person is must have great influence over her. If we take him, we can-"

"No!" he snarled, whipping me but this time, he didn't stop. "She's mine!"

There it was again, that violent obsession to possess my sister. Not one of us was precious enough to him to drive him mad this way. I used to think he must love her terribly, to want her despite the fact that he already had all of us, but now that I've met her, I realize he was terrified of her. To possess the one thing that could destroy him was his salvation.

When he grew tired and left the room, I gasped for air as my back burned with pain. I heard someone come inside after a while, removing the shackles on my wrists. I let myself drop to the ground, my consciousness slipping again but then I felt on a touch on one of the cuts on my back and heard the sound of giggling.

"Summer," I rasped, looking over my shoulder to see her bent over me. "What are you doing out of your cell?"

She smiled, tracing another cut with her finger. "Father said I've been good so I can play outside for a while."

Good, she says. How could someone who had slit the throat of one of the newborns because his cries of pain from teething was annoying her ever be good? Even Father had been revolted by it and locked her in the cells when she tried to kill everyone while suffering from another one of her delusions. It's been nearly eight years since and she's just grown more deranged living under the ground and roaming the dark halls of the dungeon.

She dug her nail into an open gash, looking at me expectantly. I twisted my body abruptly, shifting and slamming her to the floor with a hand wrapped around her throat.

"Sweet Mal," she mumbled, tutting. "You'll hurt yourself."

I released her, reaching for her doll that laid on the floor and placing it on her chest. "Play elsewhere," I said before standing. "I'm tired."

She sprang up, wrapping her arms around her doll. "Did she do that to you? The one out there?"

"We're forbidden to speak of the outside, Summer," I replied curtly, going to the sink and filling it with water.

"I won't tell," she said teasingly.

I sighed, knowing she wouldn't let it go. "Yes, it was her."

"How unfair," she said in dismay. "You won't let me do anything to you but you let her?"

I managed to smile. She made it sound as if I had a choice. "If you become anywhere near her, you can do what you want to me."

"Really?" she said excitedly. "Tell me how to be like her."

I shook my head, twisting the faucet close. "I don't think anyone can be like her, nor should anyone aim to." I turned my head to look at her, her wide eyes unblinking. She's gotten worse since I left for Russia months ago. Father must have did more work on her. "You're filthy, little sister. When was the last time you bathed?"

She stretched out her arms and legs, surveying the dried cuts and patchwork of bruises on her skin. "Don't you like them?" she asked, swiveling her eyes up to me. "It's my best work, I think."

I sighed, grabbing a wash cloth and wetting it. "Come here." She hopped to her feet, coming to my side. I wiped the dirt off her face and she giggled, saying it tickled. "You and Vivien have the same eyes."

"The one out there?" I nodded. She touched her scarred eye, the same bright silver as Vivien's and Jakob's. Mama's eyes. "What else do we share?"

"Scars," I mumbled, taking her arm and cleaning the dried blood off her cuts. "You have more but hers are worse."

She frowned. "How worse?"

I sighed, crouching down and splashing water on her thighs before wiping it off with the cloth. "There were long ones that went down her forearms and two deep ones on her sides. The one here-" I placed my palm on the left side of her belly. "- was this big. The worst one was the scar on her back." I stood, unplugging the sink to drain the water and washing out the dirt from the cloth. "It went across her shoulders. She had a pair of wings over them."

"She has wings?" she said in wonder.

I nodded, tending to her other leg. "They were quite beautiful."

"Wow," she whispered, craning her neck to look at her back. "I wish I had wings. I would fly everywhere."

I lifted my head, smiling sadly as I looked at my broken sister. "Will you take me with you?"

She thought for a moment, furrowing her brows. "Okay, but just you."

I heard footsteps nearby and saw Jakob's eyes appear through the open slot on the door. "What is it?" I asked.

"I brought you food and medicine," he said, coming inside and setting a tray of food along with a box of medical supplies on the bed.

"You shouldn't have," I said quietly. "I don't want you to be punished too."

"It's only for this time. Father allowed it." He glanced at Summer, visibly unsettled when she smiled at him. "What is she doing out of her cell?"

"She broke out again," I said, standing.

"No, Father let me out," she insisted.

"Summer, it's bad to lie," I chided.

She chewed at her lip, averting her gaze. "I just wanted to play with you."

"Come," Jakob ordered, waving her over. "I'll take you back."

She jumped to me, wrapping her arms around me. I gritted my teeth as pain reverberated all over my body. I almost fainted.

"No. You're scary," she said petulantly.

He glared at her and she whimpered, hiding her face against my arm. "Little girl, don't make me come to you."

She screamed at him in response, the earsplitting shrill dizzying me. "Summer," I cut in, putting a hand on her head to settle her and she seized her screaming. "Go with Jakob."

She pouted, reverting back to her childlike disposition. "But I want to play."

Play, was what she called torture and beatings. I wondered if it had been her instead of me who Vivien met, she would have been entertained enough to hear me. Or maybe they would have indulged too much and ended up killing each other.

"I'm tired right now," I said, pulling her off me. "I'll come play later."

"Promise?" she pressed, standing on the tips of her toes.

I nodded. "Go with Jakob now."

She skipped towards him and he grabbed her by the arm, heading to the door and locking it. I started tending to my wounds, cleaning the ones on my back as best as I could, before eating the food. As I laid face down on the bed, I thought back to my meeting with Vivien and tried to find a way that it could have gone differently. No matter the scenario, it always ended with her walking away.

****

I pumped myself up and down, huffing at each push as sweat dribbled to the tip of my nose and falling on the ground beneath me. My arms were burning and my still healing ribs were aching fiercely but I couldn't spend another day licking my wounds. It's already been sixteen days since that night. The longer I remained unmoving, the farther she'll be again. She already knew our objective. Getting to her now would prove more difficult. I had to ameliorate my current condition and make myself capable of facing against her on even ground.

Summer had been appointed by Father as the executor of my daily penance on his behalf, which I was grateful for. It didn't take much to bore her and all I had to do was bear with the lashings without making a sound for a few minutes, and she'd leave in search of better toys. I'd heard the woman Thomas had brought from Russia as another addition to his roster of wives was being broken in as well and Summer had been spending most days playing with her. Her screams and pleas for mercy had filled the halls of the dungeon endlessly, along with Summer's gleeful laughter.

My punishment ends today. I could finally move. I wasn't going to waste the chance Vivien had given us when she spared our lives. When I come for her, I will entertain her.

I heard the sound of footfalls outside the hall and pushed myself up, standing firm. The door was opened and I arched a brow when I saw Jakob enter. He turned and I followed him out, sidling up next to him.

"Where's Father?"

"We don't know," he replied. "After he was done with you, he left and brought only Thomas with him. He hasn't been in contact."

That was nothing new. There had been months at a time before that he didn't come home or make contact, but ever since he was forced out by those in the outside, he's been almost paranoid of leaving the island. He only ever left these days to gather intelligence and do what he claimed were important business.

"I have lessons with the children," Jakob said when we left the dungeon. "Ava will be assisting so you can take today to rest."

"Thank you, brother," I replied, parting ways with him as he headed out to the grounds while I went upstairs.

The woman that had been given to me when I came of age was in my room when I entered it, sitting at the foot of the bed in the nude. She smelled of something sweet. She must have prepared herself. How detestable.

I sighed, beginning to strip my clothes. "Freya, I didn't call for you."

"Master Anthony told me to come once you've left your cell," she replied meekly.

I clenched my jaw. Of all the times, he wanted another child? Did we even have the luxury to shape one into his ideal perfection? I'd heard the two sons I'd provided had made great strides in their training. Was that not enough still?

"I'm not in any condition to lay with you," I said, taking a neatly folded towel from my dresser. She must have been caring for my belongings since I'd been gone. I turned to look at her. "Please leave."

She quickly gathered her clothes, keeping her head bowed as she hurried out the door. In her haste, she tripped on my foot and fell. She gasped, shaking so horribly it was as if she had committed a grave sin.

"I'm so-"

"Freya," I cut in, crouching down to wrap the towel around her shoulders. "Hush."

She pursed her lips, silencing herself. I eyed her appearance in dismay. A long time ago, she had been what conventional perceptions considered pretty. Personally picked out by Father from the outside for her intelligence, aesthetics, and lack of existing health issues, she was once a twenty year old with a glimmering future ahead of her. But then she was brought here, to be mine, and over the past fourteen years, whatever she had been before was replaced by this shell of a woman. I could never stand laying with her, or even being near her. Her predicament reminded me too much of my own mother's and I saw no pleasure or satisfaction from it. That was why I had refused another woman and endeavored to disregard this one as much as I was allowed.

I touched her face, brushing away a tear but she flinched, gasping as if I'd stabbed her. She was so afraid of me. They were all afraid of us, the weapons, as what Father called us. Even my children were, especially them, I suppose. We were the manifestation of his will and every act we made was in service to him. To offend us would be to offend him as well. No one in this place would dare that.

"I won't hurt you," I said, standing. "If you're asked, we laid together."

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

I took another towel from the drawer, wrapping it around my waist before heading out to the baths down the hall. After washing the sweat and filth off my body, I went down to the grounds, nodding at Jakob who was watching the children shoot at paper targets. I picked a few flowers from the greenhouse and made my way up the mountain behind the compound, reaching it nearly an hour later. I glanced at the guard post in a nearby tree, waiting for clearance. When I saw the flicker of light, I walked up to the lone house sitting on the clearing, toeing my boots off and leaving them on the porch.

I went into the kitchen, removing the wilted flowers in the vase on the dining table and placing the new ones I'd picked. I heated a kettle and fixed a pot of tea before going upstairs. I almost tripped on the books littered along the floor and I held up the tray over my head as I maneuvered myself through the hall. When I entered the library where I knew she would be, there were more stacks of books now than before, seemingly spilling out of the room.

A record was playing and I recognized it to be the one Vivien had made. I'd secretly brought it back for her during one of my missions in the outside over a decade ago. She had wept so much the first time she played the record, as if listening to it was an agony to her. Ever since, it was the only record she ever listened to but she didn't weep anymore. It seemed to me that she found solace in it. Why, I didn't understand. It was only notes put together after all.

I found her sitting out on the balcony, reading and freezing herself in the cold again. I rapped my knuckle on the wall as I stepped out but like always, she didn't notice. I set the tray on the small table beside her, pouring her a cup of tea and holding it in front of her face.

She flinched, snapping her head up in alarm and, at the realization that it was me, she smiled the way Vivien had but it was different. It didn't make me uneasy. There was no malice. Nothing hidden behind it. She was just smiling. It was strange how my sister was so much like our mother and yet be nothing like her at the same time.

"Mal, is that you?" Mama murmured, dropping her book and reaching for me. She cupped my face, her eyes roaming over every inch of me. "Oh, look what's happened to you."

I sighed, setting the cup back on the tray. "It's nothing." I cleared the chair beside her of more books and sat down. "You shouldn't be sitting out here. It's too cold and the air is too thin."

"I haven't been here long. I'll be okay." She kept touching me, as if afraid I would disappear. "Jakob came to see me a few days ago. He's gotten so much taller since I last saw him."

The last Jakob came up here to see her had been... seven... ten years ago? Of course he would be taller. Even taller than me now.

"He's grown bigger now too," she mumbled, her soft voice cracking from lack of use. "He looks just like your father."

"Does he?"

She nodded, her eyes glazing over with melancholy. "I've seen portraits of Anthony before, when he was a young man. He was so dashing," she said, giggling.

As she spoke endlessly about days long gone, I stared at her, wondering how someone so kind and beautiful could fall for someone so cruel and despicable. Even after all these years, after everything he's done, her heart remains enamored by him. She wasn't blind. She knew what he was, and yet she still loves him in spite of it. That love of hers was what built this prison.

"I met her, Mama," I said after a while.

She paused, her smile growing sad. "Yes, Jakob told me."

I sighed, looking up at the sky. "She was unlike anything I've ever seen."

"Jakob said those words too," she said, sounding confused. "What kind of person is she, for her to make you both falter?"

I sighed again. "She's both you and Father, and more," I said, reaching for her face and tracing the skin below her eyes. "Inside, she's him. Full of darkness and depravity, but your eyes and face, she has them. She's like a mirror of you."

She touched her face, trying to smile but failing. "She must hate it."

I frowned, seeing the yearning in her eyes for the child she lost. "I'll bring her home next time so you can see her too."

She pursed her lips, holding back her tears. "Are you sure? Jakob said she almost killed you. She might be-"

"No," I cut in, grasping her wrists. "She could have killed me but she didn't. I just have to get better and find her again. I'll make her listen, I swear."

"Mal, maybe it's best if you stop," she said hesitantly. "I don't want you to get hurt more because of this."

I clenched my jaw, letting her go. "Then let me end him."

She looked at me helplessly. "Mal, don't be like that."

I turned my head away, looking at the horizon. "Then I will find her again and bring her here."

"Anthony's getting worse," she said softly. "He needs you and everyone to care for him. He won't live for long now and if we just wait, we can-"

"Mama, he's planning to go to war with them. All of them, Vivien included, if we don't bring her here," I pressed. "Do you think he will let himself die alone? Do you think he will spare anything, the children, in this war? He won't." I grasped either side of her head, wanting to make her understand he wasn't worth our suffering. "Don't you want to see Vivien? Let her know you love her?"

She cupped her palms over her mouth, smothering her cries. "But can we even trust her? She's like him now, isn't she?"

"No, she's not like him," I said, shaking my head. "She's better. Even if she won't listen, I just need to get her here and they will see her as I saw her." I smiled, hope filling me. "And she will become our new master."

"If your father-"

"Father is no longer fit to rule," I cut in, letting her go. "His exile from the family is proof of that. If he continues to drag us into his quest for revenge, he will kill us all."

She lowered her head, clutching her knees. "Why does it have to be this way?"

"Because he made it this way. I'm only ensuring our survival and Vivien is our salvation."

"How can you be so sure?" She lifted her head, regarding me with a look of uncertainty. "You don't know what's Anthony done to her. If she is as fearsome as you say, how come she did nothing against him? It might be that he's either broken her or she's loyal to him. Worse of all, both."

I shook my head. "No. You didn't see her," I said, the phantom feeling of my sister's cold silver eyes sending chills down my spine and making me smile. "Vivien was such a marvelous monstrosity."