The Grasp of Nighttide (32 page)

Drumming her long slender fingers on the mahogany conference table, an anxious looking Diane scanned around the room with her roaming eyes. The other Grasp members were already seated on their respective seats. Plus two familiar guards stood statue at the door. As it was often considered inauspicious to be summoned by the Queen, the entire Grasp looked half dead. No smiles were exchanged, just pure cold shrugs and sighs as a few talked among their circles. As the old Grandfather clock ticked louder, the tension in the room went on rising.  
     Feeling a bit dizzy looking at the jittery Grasp, Diane decided to feast her eyes on something non-living. Her eyes met the antique showpieces of the Queen. Obviously, judging from those antiques which seemed much older than everyone in the room, one could probably guess that the Queen was an old creature by heart as well. Being about half a millennium old, the Queen had developed a habit of hoarding old stuff. Diane rolled her eyes when she spotted those mundane wall hangings, portrait of God-knows-who, and a famous painting from a tower in Berlin before it was caught on fire. Although the Queen might called them her precious, Diane despised them. She totally had no idea the purpose of the Queen keeping them. Why store the past when you have a future to look upon?

Diane’s friend- an auctioneer- one among the loyal humans to the Grasp and queen, once told her of the price tag of the Queen’s collection of antiques. It was so expensive that he couldn’t get himself to touch them. According to him, just by selling the tiniest piece of antique the Queen had, one could be an instant millionaire. If she had helped the Grasp in a better way than handing out only some bills every month, all of them would not have to roam the streets, doing some part-time, trying to win a covert bet, or marry someone just for money. However, knowing of how ‘nice’ the Queen could be, only an insane Grasp would bring that matter up. 

The falsetto voice of Harriet Le Bon, an infamous French opera singer whose voice could make windows crack in a mere five seconds distracted Diane from the antiques. The thin scrawny woman noticed Diane and pouted her lips. She then turned towards her group of pouting lips loving friends and continued chatting. However, Harriet immediately stopped and covered her mouth in fear.

Harriet’s sudden halt was so noticeable that all of the Grasp members stopped talking. Even the squeakiest of them froze. All eyes were on the door. Judging from their looks, it wasn’t something inviting. In that long one minute of silence, Diane could see the drastic change in their expression and could feel herself doing the same. Even the most cheerful members were stupefied.

“Oh God, the Queen’s aura is still as terrifying as ever huh?” Patrick Lorne, Diane’s next door gasped in his signature squeaky voice. The red head with distinct Irish features curled his long hair around his finger anxiously. Dressed in a brightly purple suit, Patrick looked damn outrageous in the room. Perhaps, it suited more of his sissy personality.

“Just shut up, Lorne!” Mag Baguette snapped and kicked his legs. With her scarred left eyes, Mag looked even scarier than she used to be. Mag Baguette was the longest serving member of the Grasp to exist after the queen. With the research she had conducted through the years, reading additional Grasp books, many of which even the queen hadn’t touched, Mag knew everything about the Grasp right from the founding days. If anyone would like to know anything about Grasp, they could simply refer to Mag and there will be guaranteed to obtain precise information. Of course with extra bucks paid to her. 

The Queen had been regarded as the most powerful being on Earth. But none of them knew exactly how powerful she was or what was the limit of her capabilities. One example was the old mansion taken down and this new mansion built and set up in two days, they were rumors that the queen had possessed thousands of humans to work around the clock and some of the Grasp said she used magic to do it on her own. But as the guards were sent away during that time, and no one could obviously question the queen, the whole thing still remained a mystery.

Diane’s thoughts were broken by the uninviting vibration of her cell phone in her pocket. She quickly took it out, wondering who might be calling her at the moment. The cell phone looked horrible compared to the cell phones owned by the others but it meant a lot to Diane. It was owned by Stephanie years ago and Diane almost sold it off, to match the present phone models. Diane brought the phone back from the shop on the same night and decided to continue using it as her own. As she unlocked the screen, Diane wished silently to herself that Stephanie would be by her side-alive.

 There was a notification on her message bar. She tapped it and realized someone had just sent a message on the Grasp group chat. The Queen wasn’t a fan of electronics, so the group chat was the only secure place for them to discuss anything without fear.

Why isn’t she here yet
? 

 
What do you think is going on?
 Diane typed. She had no idea but something serious was up. They all knew. The queen wasn’t someone who threw a casual get together. The miracle, Diane suspected. She had thought of it when Rave got rid of the demon and she’d been pondering over the possibilities of it happening many a days these years, but she couldn’t be sure of it yet.

 She looked up and spotted a few Grasp shrugging at her. The newly recruited teenage Grasp members weren’t looking anxious at all. Neither was active on the group chat except for a few who were actually more like spammers than chatters. But still the overall number of the Grasp looked stable now; there was no threat of extinction anymore so that wouldn’t be the reason for their gathering.

 As Diane and the other Grasp members continued to text with each other casually, trying to rid the tension building up in the conference room, a question which almost bugged Diane popped on the screen. 

Where is Andy?
 Flavia Hatcher asked. The petite British new recruit was paying much attention to Andy recently. Diane had no idea what triggered the mousy girl to do that but according to Harriet Le Bon, Flavia often stalked Andy. Diane didn’t really believe in her and just shrugged it off. True or false, she would rather not to know about it. The very thought was creepy; creepier than the Queen’s antiques. 

 Flavia sent another message repeating the same. This time, it came with emoticons. Diane tried not to look at the opposite direction, where the girl was. Her sixth sense was telling her that Flavia was staring at her from a distance. Diane glanced at the chair beside her own, still vacant. As usual Andy was late again. The group chat was flooded with Flavia’s enquiry of Andy’s whereabouts causing Diane to have no choice but to reply to the stalker, whatever. 

 Late. Again
. 

 As soon as she pressed the send button, Flavia instantly messaged her-personally
. Why?
 

 “Is this girl insane or something? How on Earth would I know?” Diane whispered silently to herself. She tried her best to avoid looking annoyed as Flavia’s bright emerald eyes were fixed on her. Diane had enough of Flavia’s persistence and was about to turn her phone off when Andy’s message came in.

 On my way folks! 

 Diane heaved a sigh of relief. She glanced up and saw Flavia grinning at herself. At the same time, the other members stopped texting in the group chat and each had kept their phones away after seeing Mag Baguette clearing her throat and sitting up straight.

 The doors opened in a soft, resonating creak and everyone immediately sprung up from their seats. The bright lights coming from hallways shone into the conference room, blinding their eyes. As soon as the doors were closed, everyone sighed in despair. It was a false alarm. It was the Queen’s old butler instead at the doors. The tall, lanky Scandinavian butler with neatly combed pale yellow hair and piercing blue eyes entered the room with a large tray. Following from behind, were the Queen’s servants who walked like robots. He eyed at everyone through his large piece of monocle and signaled the servants to serve the Grasp. Diane stared at the butler. In Grasp’s eyes, traces of the Queen’s powerful magic circling around him were obvious.

 In just a split second, goblets appeared in front of each of them. Diane took a closer look at the familiar looking brown goblets and realized there were still the same ones as always- with the Queen’s insignia carved on it which can only be seen at certain angles. Of course, there was also the Queen’s arrogant face carved largely on the front of the goblet. It was kind of creepy as she could sense the Queen was watching her even from the goblet. Diane turned the goblet at another angle and hid herself from seeing it. She focused on inspecting the contents of the goblet. It was blood red and upon smelling it, it wasn’t wine. Instead it was just pure ordinary mixed fruit juice.

 The younger Grasp members were shocked at the sight of the goblets and the sight of the blood red juice frightened them more. Some were giving the butler puzzled expressions while the others sniffed the juice, making sure it was intended to be drunk. They couldn’t be blamed for being curious. It was rare for people in the modern days to use vintage looking goblets for drinking purposes and the queen made sure the kids were trained to be accustomed to recent trends, so that they could blend in with humans without a problem. Only the elder Grasp members were used to that custom of the old times. As Diane was taking a sip of the juice, she almost choked when a voice rung in her ears.

 Close your eyes. Close your eyes and it will come at any moment.

 It was a sultry yet haunting voice, lower than anyone in the room. In fact, the voice was more of a combination of whispers and mumbling causing Diane to strain her ears hard to get the message. As soon as the voice paused, everyone gasped. The room was looking hazy and everything seemed off. The lights from the chandeliers flickered and a strong gust of wind wrapped their bodies. From her eyes, everything seemed to have slowed down so do her own movements. Nothing made sense at the time; no magic was so powerful. 

 I accept the power of the Grasp, I accept the soul offered by the Grasp
. Diane chanted twice in her mind while closing her eyes. She could feel a surge of magic flowing in her veins, her blood, her mind and soul. It was more like a surge of electricity flowing and it was slightly painful. The pressure in Diane’s head built and it was giving her a trembling headache. She dropped on her knees, her right hand grabbing hold of her chair. It was a long time since she had accepted a soul at Mortegrath, and she had forgotten how much more powerful it felt than accepting the same in the world. But this was an experience far greater than she ever had- even in Mortegrath.

When Diane opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Harriet Le Bon and her bunch of merry friends squealing. It wasn’t really a good choice for Diane to look at them but oh well, they were clearly sixteen again from their twenties. Harriet was shoveling a mirror at all her friends with her signature pouts. The younger Grasp were taken back by the power too, but it was to a greater extent when they saw all the older Grasp, back to their ages again. Forcing herself up, Diane adjusted her body on the chair again and grabbed her head.

 “Damn! They get to be so young and I didn’t even reduce a year,” Zebiar Lorne complained. He stared at his phone’s screen and was sulking non-stop.

 Diane looked at Patrick to offer hard talk to his brother. But he was least interested. The sissy man touched both of his cheeks and immediately took out some lotion and began spreading them all over his young face. Diane rolled her eyes and sighed. 

“I want to look beautiful!” the narcissist cried.

 “Stop complaining Zebiar!” Diane snapped. “Besides, you will be more powerful although your age doesn’t rewind.”

Zebiar looked away. Sarcastically, he sniggered. “Right, it’s different for you. You get to look younger huh? Why don’t you exchange with me since you want to look like an old hag?”

Diane frowned. She totally had no idea what he was talking about. He was recruited to the Grasp only months ago and was just sixteen. The Grasp couldn’t go lower than that. Mr. Lorne looked like he had no responsibility towards both of his boys. Hell, he even looked their age now. Anyone would look at the three and think of them as friends. 

Diane flipped out her phone and stared at her reflection on the screen. Diane gasped softly. She brought the phone closer to herself and was utterly surprised at the huge change in her. She was no longer fifty but sixteen again! The wrinkles and Crow’s eyes had vanished, leaving a smooth, porcelain like face. Diane could barely recognize her own self! It was as if she was looking at a different being.

Suddenly, the doors of the room opened again. The butler rang his bell and everyone immediately stood up from their seats. This time, it was no false alarm. As the doors opened, a powerful surge of magic blew in, shaking up those robotic servants who were hurrying to clean up the mess of the magic’s aftermath. 

“Announcing the arrival of Her Royal Majesty,” the guards at the door announced.

There, stood the Queen in a royal Gothic style gown with a long silky cape sweeping the floor. Although she was a creature of hundreds of years, the Queen looked more of a twenty something year old woman with a perfect model like body. Her grey blue eyes were composed and her ash blonde hair fell back in subtle waves, as she marched elegantly to her throne chair at the head of the table.  Most of the Grasp members were shivering at every step she took due to the cold burst of air following her. On the other hand, the younger Grasp were conflicted between two feelings; admiration and fear. The Queen had always bore the elegance and also the powerful, stern expression which thus making her an admirable figure to anyone who didn’t know her true colors. Diane guessed she had maintained her age in twenties so that she’d still feel like an older and commanding part of the Grasp.