Fabula Obscrua

Caught in the Undertow - 1 - RSD

"I take it that you are the women that Madam Monique sent?" asked the woman peering through the elaborate wrought iron gate, a sculpted eyebrow raised in haughty judgment as she looked them over. She was dressed all in reds and blacks, corseted, gloved, a little hat atop her perfectly coiffed hair. She radiated a subtle sort of power, a vague undercurrent of cool percipience.

"Yes. I am Rachelle, and this is Isabella." Elloreah answered smoothly, chin raised, defiant under the woman’s scrutiny.

"Come, come, then.” The woman waved an impatient hand at them after pushing the gate open. “I am Pheobe,” she added once they were through the gate and she’d locked it once more. “The Mistress will want to see you so she can properly place your assignments."

Belita slid her hand around Elloreah's arm as they followed their guide up the stone pathway winding through thick pines. Once they’d breached the barrier of the trees, a lush garden came into view, meadow-like, artfully wild in appearance.

"They waste no time, do they?" Belita whispered once Pheobe was a few paces ahead of them, just out of earshot.  

Eloreah only shrugged. "I expect as much from Monique's colleague." The petite, olive skinned girl clung to her, wide eyed as she took in the vast grounds. Elloreah, in tune to her friend’s emotions, put her arm around Belita's shoulders. "Don't be intimidated. You will be safe here, I promise."

Belita resisted the urge to correct her. It was more than that, her fear was not mere intimidation. They were being hunted, this place nothing more than a temporary refuge. They had traveled to another country to escape, zig-zagging across the continental U.S. before skirting the coastline, north to Toronto. The hope was that they would shake, or at least deter their tracker.

They’d be found eventually, their time here nothing but a brief interlude. As a result, Belita would be indoctrinated into a society she had never realized existed, nor had wished to become part of. She resented it, yet she knew she had no choice. It was to protect her, to keep her safe, if only for a while. Elloreah wasn’t one to run from a threat, Belita knew it well.

“I used Monique’s connections, but I haven’t worked for her in years," Elloreah had explained. "No one will think to connect us to one of Monique associates. Besides,  I was known for my hair,” she flipped back her now dark locks, “No one will recognize me now.”

Belita had scoffed.  “Your hair? You really think that’s what people would remember you by?”

Elloreah had shrugged. “Nymphs, sirens, succubi, vampires, creatures that can manipulate human emotion and desires, we are not uncommon.” She turned to Belita then, tapping her nose. “I am not unique.” She had given Belita a cunning little smile.  “You may have been influenced by one of my kind without even knowing.”

“That hardly makes me feel better.” Belita had grumbled and given Elloreah a sharp look. “Have you...?”

“No,” Elloreah had snapped before Belita could finish. “Any influences were minor lapses of judgment.” She had taken Belita by the shoulders then, her gaze intense. “I would never use you, manipulate you.” She shook her head. ”Bell, forgive me. I have slipped, but only to make you happy: to take away pain, to give you comfort.”

Belita still struggled with that confession and what it had meant. It was much simpler when Belita had thought Elloreah was an alcoholic, a drug addict with a fortune to squander. The reality was proving difficult to wrap her mind around.

Belita was shaken from her thoughts as she took in the building before her. Now visible through the thick pines were steeples and spires, topped with ornate metal work crosses, the clouds rolling in behind them. It was a forbidding place, the dark clouds only causing her anxiety to rise.