A Cross to Bear (17 page)

Piles of ancient gold coins spilled out of treasure chests. Diamonds sat on display along an entire section of wall. Gold and silver bars had been stacked to resemble the three pyramids of Giza at the center of the room.

Gabby beheld many wonders that morning, but none of the gems or jewels compared to the art that Victor and his descendants had hoarded over the millennia. In college, Gabby had first studied art, but she had switched to journalism when she began to figure out that art was a hard game to make money at.

In Victor’s other rooms, she recognized
The Concert
by Johannes Vermeer,
The Storm on the Sea of Galilee
by Rembrandt van Rijn, and many others. Gabby walked for long hours along the rows of perfectly kept works. Many of the displays lit for only a few seconds, dimly, due to their age and the damage light could do to them.

Gabby stopped before a Van Gogh that was thought to have been lost in the Nazi invasion of Poland. “Don’t you think that this stuff should be on display somewhere for people to enjoy and learn from?”

Victor brushed by her, and she took in his scent. A feral impulse overcame her, and she imagined him bending her over one of the piles of gold.

He stared at the Van Gogh and grinned. “Someone is enjoying it and learning from it. You, my dear. This artwork was saved
from
people. Humans are a volatile bunch. Most of this is thought long lost. I can introduce a piece to the world and live off the profit for years. I have done this for humanity. If it had not been for my master’s diligence and commitment to art, these works would have been truly lost long ago.”

“There is another reason that you keep it. Protection,” said Gabby. “You know that people like Michael Steele would never attack you here among such wonders.”

“Indeed,” said Victor with a toothy grin. “It is an added bonus.”

“Why are you showing me all of this?” Gabby asked.

“I want to show you that I trust you, and that if you remain with me, you will never want for anything. We will travel the world, you and I.”

Gabby’s mind exploded with images of the life she might know with Victor. A life free of fear, one in which Gabby was strong and powerful.

They took the elevator once more, and Gabby stood nervously beside Victor, wanting nothing more than to be held by him and to be kissed by him. He hadn’t so much as touched her since the awkward hug in the dining room.

At the fourth floor, the door opened to a small room. Two armed guards stood at attention inside. Behind them was a large steel vault door.

“Good morning, sir,” said the guard to the right. When he spoke, Gabby caught the flash of long fangs.

“Johnathan,” said Victor with a nod.

The other guard opened the big door, swinging it away from them. Beyond was a prison cellblock. Both sides were lined with doors, at least twenty in all.

“What is this?” Gabby asked.

“The first part of your training as a nullifier. These cells hold some very special creatures. Some are here because they are monsters at heart. Others have been cursed and need help. Help that only someone like you can give.”

“Help?” Gabby hadn’t considered that her power could be used to help people, or . . . things.

“Yes. Consider this poor soul.” Victor led her to the first cell window on the right side. “Go ahead, have a look.”

Gabby got up on tiptoe and peeked in through the small window. Inside, a small girl sat huddled in the corner of a padded room. She wore a straitjacket and rocked back and forth, her long red hair covering her face.

“Why is that little girl in a straitjacket?” Gabby asked, horrified.

“Tap on the glass,” said Victor.

Gabby tapped twice. The little girl’s head slapped to the left, and Gabby gasped. Red eyes glared at her. The little girl snarled, bearing sharp rows of teeth. A long tongue darted out from between. Her skin was green and scaly, like a lizard. The girl suddenly leaped up to her feet and charged the door. Her face slammed against the glass, and she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Gabby heard nothing through the soundproof door, but she saw the anguish in those red eyes.

“What happened to her?” Gabby asked, having to turn from the window.

Victor closed the window slat and sighed. There was a weight in his voice. “She was cursed by a witch. Her parents brought her to me in hopes that I might be able to help. Now, it seems that I might. Beneath that dragon-scale skin lies a little girl named Emily.” Victor took her hand and squeezed gently. His blue eyes shimmered. “You can help people like Emily.”

When he touched her, a tingle danced across her skin. Gabby couldn’t help but smile. She had thought of her power as useful only for defense, but now she was overjoyed to think that she could help people who were suffering so.

“Who are the others?” Gabby asked, considering the other doors.

“Have a look. You are quite safe.”

Gabby went to the next window and peered in. A creature that could only be described as a troll was sleeping at the back of the cell, which had been fashioned to look like a cave.

“Another witch curse,” said Victor.

Inside the next cell, a panther paced inside a jungle habitat.

“That is twelve-year-old Hero Wang. He was cursed by a Chinese shaman, commonly called a
wu
. His uncle failed to pay for services rendered, so he and his family were made an example of. When the boy began to sprout black fur and fangs, he was brought to me.”

“Why do these people think that you can help them?” Gabby asked.

“It is what I do. I have traveled the world for hundreds of years seeking out powerful witches, shamans, witch doctors, and other practitioners who are skilled at reversing curses. Those who remain down here have not been able to be helped as of yet. The practitioners who cast these spells were very powerful.”

“Is that what my mother did? Reverse curses?”

“Yes.” Victor beamed. “She was quite skilled at reverse engineering spells. It is how she was able to create the spell that turned you into a nullifier.”

“I want to try to reverse a spell.”

“Slow down.” Victor laughed. “It is much too dangerous for you to attempt it on a person. First we will work with objects.”

***

They left the cellblock and took the elevator up to the castle. Victor led her through the wing and into a room with a single small table at the center and many objects sitting upon small pillars.

“Have a seat,” said Victor, pulling out a chair for her. He then moved to the back of the room and took a small figurine from one of the displays.

Victor returned to the table and placed the small stone frog figurine before Gabby.

“Is this what I think it is?” she asked.

“If you think it is a real frog turned to stone, then yes.”

“Wow,” she said, reaching out to touch it.

“Not yet!” he said, staying her hand. “First I want you to focus on it. Look closely. What do you see?”

Gabby rested her chin on her right hand, staring intently at the little stone frog. “What am I supposed to see?”

“If I am not mistaken, you should see some kind of disturbance around the edges. I have heard it described as resembling heat waves in the desert,” said Victor.

Gabby stared at the object. She squinted, searching.

Nothing changed.

“I don’t know. I don’t see anything.”

“Hmm, perhaps the vision will come to you with time. Go ahead and touch the figurine.”

Gabby licked her lips and rubbed her hands together. “Will it hurt?”

“I don’t think so.”

Gabby gave a nervous laugh. “Well, that’s reassuring.”

She reached out slowly, mentally preparing herself for anything. The tip of her finger touched the figurine’s forehead.

A quick spark caused Gabby to cry out and jump.

“Look!” said Victor.

The figurine turned from gray to light green and suddenly came alive. The frog croaked and leaped toward Gabby, who yipped and jumped back with a laugh. “That was amazing!” she said, staring at her hands in wonder. “I want to do it again!”

Victor laughed and scooped up the frog. “In time. First you must learn more about this power that you wield. Your power is not sentient; it needs your intention to give it life, to wake it up. Like you did with the werewolf. But that was quite by accident, wasn’t it?”

“It was a reflex, I guess. He was coming at me, and I screamed out ‘no.’ Then he shifted before my eyes.”

“Yes. But the frog, that surprised me. Did you intend for it to turn back to normal?” Victor asked.

“I hoped that it would.”

Victor nodded. “Then the power has truly awakened in you. This is good.”

“When can I help the children?”

“You need more practice before you try something like that.”

Gabby began to protest and reach for Victor’s hand. He pulled it back quickly, as one would from a flame.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, standing. She searched his eyes and saw . . . was that fear?

“You’re afraid that I might take your power?”

“I’m not afraid,” he said. “I’m just taking necessary precautions. Your power is growing, as I hoped it would, as I feared it would. I have been able to resist so far, but I feel it emanating from you even now. I felt it this morning, so much stronger than it was when last we met. There is a potential in you to strip me of my power. And I cannot take that chance.”

“I would never—”

“Accidents happen, Gabby.”

“Isn’t there a way?”

He turned from her and paced, staring at the floor. “There is a way,” he said, suddenly stopping. “But . . . no, I cannot let you do that.”

“What can I do?” Gabby pleaded, moving toward him. “I’ll do anything, please!”

He held up a staying hand. “I am sorry, Gabriella.”

“Victor . . .”

“We will speak more of this later. For now, you should find rest,” he said as he left.

Gabby watched him go. She wanted to run after him, to kiss him, to hold him. But she feared what she might do.

The days passed without any sign of Victor.

Gabby trained vigorously every single day. She watched the cameras out on the grounds as she ran by, and the ones in the dojo and firing range. Victor was behind the camera watching her from somewhere in the castle—she knew it.

A week passed, and still there was no word from Victor. She asked the staff about him often, but neither Lilly nor Orchid or any of the instructors had anything to say besides “He is away on business.”

It was all bullshit, and Gabby knew it.

She took her frustrations out on her training. After three weeks, she was running ten miles before breakfast, she could bench-press more than her own weight, and she had lost twenty pounds. Objects were brought before her daily. An enchanted clock that ran backward until she touched it with intention, an animated doll that did not take batteries that died in her hands, and more stone animals were brought to her until she was turning statues of dogs back to life.

Her nights were spent thinking about Victor. She laughed to herself, thinking it ironic that the one man she loved she could not touch, for fear of killing him.

Victor came to her in her dreams. Gabby was often left panting and clutching the sheets in a cold sweat, wondering if the dream of intense lovemaking had been real. Each and every time, however, she woke to find that it wasn’t true. She could never make love to Victor again.

Gabby awoke one morning from yet another dream. Realizing once again that it wasn’t real, she leaped out of bed, pissed at the world. It had been a month since she had seen Victor, and she was furious.

During the morning run, Gabby went half her usual pace, lagging behind Ingrid and ignoring her taunts and teases to catch up. When Gabby refused to play along, Ingrid surprised her with a slap of the rod to the front of her thighs.

“Ow! God damn it, Ingrid, knock it off.”

“You run like little bitch today. Move ass,” said Ingrid, cocking back the rod.

“Fuck off,” said Gabby, stopping and turning back toward the castle.

The rod came across the back of her legs suddenly, and Gabby let out a howl. She turned to find a grinning Ingrid cocking back for another whack. “You hit me with that thing one more time, and I’ll make you eat it.”

Ingrid swung from the side, and Master Mushito’s training kicked in. Gabby stepped into the blow to get in front of it and simultaneously head-butted Ingrid in the nose. The big woman stumbled back, but Gabby would not let her go. Instead, Gabby grabbed the hand holding the rod and twisted it up and in, finally ripping the rod free. But Ingrid struck with the other hand, punching Gabby square in the chin. Her legs buckled, and she wavered for a moment.

Ingrid pounced, slamming Gabby to the ground hard and pinning her arms with her knees. Gabby’s tormentor then punched her in the face. “Is that all you’ve got?” Ingrid asked, and punched her again. “Come on, spoiled little bitch, show me something!”

Gabby tried to pry her arms loose, but it was no use. Another punch found her face. Gabby teetered on the cusp of consciousness. In that moment between here and there, Gabby saw something. It was a ripple, a shimmer of distortion covering Ingrid like an aura. Seeing the magic for what it was, Gabby focused on her true power, letting it radiate from her every pore.

She pried an arm loose and touched Ingrid’s forehead.

Ingrid howled and reeled back from her.

Eyes blurry and nose bloody, Gabby picked herself off the ground and looked to Ingrid. What she saw took her breath away—before Gabby stood a seven-foot-tall troll.

“Ingrid?” she said with a shaky voice. Gabby wondered what effect her power would have now that she had apparently broken whatever spell was on the troll.

“Finally,” said the brown-haired, long-nosed troll. She turned her dark eyes on Gabby and smiled, showing rows of large molars. “Do you know how long I’ve been in that disgusting human body?”

“You’re . . . you’re a troll?”

“Mountain troll, actually,” she said in a voice similar, if more ragged and nasal, than Ingrid’s.

“Are you still Ingrid?”

“Of course I’m me, you twit. God, I would love to kick your ass for being so damn slow and stupid.”