Chapter 82: Torment and Despair...

He was maddeningly close to release, and needed it badly, and hated himself for it.

Lorelei shared it all. It was as real to her as if Lydia were molesting Lorelei herself, but in addition to her own feelings of violation, there were those she felt from Alex. The blonde succubus was manipulating her lover's body like the expert she was, and they were both still clothed.

It would inevitably be worse in time.

His heart was heavy with fear and worry. He feared as much for Lorelei as he did for himself. His desire for Rachel had been replaced with the sort of longing one feels while mourning for the dead. It wasn't entirely certain, but the likelihood that she was dead was so high as to cast Alex into even greater despair.

Wherever Rachel was, Lorelei considered, she would have arrived by now if she were able. It was curious, though, that Stefan voiced so much of what was in Alex's memories, yet left out the angel completely. Perhaps – likely, even – he didn't actually know what had happened to her, and he didn't want to give Alex cause to have hope.

It was dangerous to allow captives to feel hope.

There was the sound of keys at the door. The locks were thrown open. Lydia stopped writhing over Alex in her torturous foreplay to look up over her shoulder. The whole of the previous group had returned, without Anastacia but having added a couple more of the vampires instead. One was in a pin-striped suit; the other wore a trench coat and a longsword strapped to his back.

"...spent this time in a spirit journey to the outskirts of the lands of the dead," Warren carried on as the group entered. "The River Lethe must be passed by all souls on their way to the afterlife. The Greeks knew it as a place where memories of life would be shed, so that the soul might continue on to the afterlife unencumbered by sorrow, by vengeance, by loss."

"I know my mythology," Blackthorne scowled. "There is no need to be pedantic. Please get on with the point to this."

Warren bowed apologetically, but with a stiffness that limited any impression of deference. "Symbolism, Lord Blackthorne. As you no doubt know, magic relies heavily on symbolism. Lethe is symbolic of the forgotten memories of the dead. To the living, however, it may often mean quite the opposite. A small dose of this potion will bring great clarity to Carlisle's memories. It will take a short while for the effects to settle, though, and there are the festivities upstairs to attend. Are you sure you do not want to wait until there is more to see?"

"We are all quite accustomed to waiting out tedium," Blackthorne said assertively. He turned to Stefan. "This aspect of our collective dealings represents something of a wrinkle in our plans to establish a greater spirit of community between your faction and ours, Lord Stefan. We would hate to have it grow into something worse."

"Our arrangement with Lord Ba'al has nothing to do with Lady Anastacia's holdings, nor any of the agreements we have negotiated," Stefan replied. "I see no justification for this interference."

"Interference? No. Observation, sir," Blackthorne countered. "This sorcery was to take place in my home, while hosting an event at the Lady's invitation and under her jurisdiction. I should say we are quite entitled--!"

"Jurisdiction?" Stefan scowled, showing a small degree of open tension for the first time. "Need I remind you, sir, that no agreement has yet been formalized between the Brotherhood and the Lady."

"Trouble in paradise?" Lydia smiled over her shoulder at Ba'al.

The demon had moved over to Lorelei, who herself turned away from him in disgust. "Not the sort of matters that concern my slaves or I," he said. Then he smiled at Lorelei. "Yes, slaves. You'll be mine once again, as soon as Lydia has dispatched your little boyfriend here. But I see no reason to rush her."

"Again, Lord Stefan," Blackthorne said darkly, "this is still my home. You remain here at the Lady's invitation. We will allow your work to continue out of deference to Lord Ba'al and Lydia, but do not presume too much."

"Gentlemen," Lord Ba'al sighed without looking away from Lorelei, "this grows tiresome."

Stefan and Blackthorne stared at one another for a moment longer. Warren was silent, along with the other vampires, but their presence wasn't the sort of thing anyone would miss. Stefan was quite clearly aware of the superior numbers around him. Despite his magic, numbers mattered.

"Warren," Stefan said finally, "please proceed."

The robed sorcerer stepped around to the head of the large table. Lydia remained on top of Alex, upright but still straddling him. "If the lady would be so kind?" Warren gestured, then offered a hand down from the table.

"I think I like it here," Lydia protested mischievously. "Is it essential that I move?"

The hooded man did not answer right away. "I can perform my work either way," he said, "but I would hate to disturb you."

"I'm already disturbed. Please make it worth my while."

He bowed again. Warren then drew from the folds of his robe a funnel and a large flask. "I will need someone to hold his head steady," he said.

"Mitchell," Blackthorne beckoned immediately. Without hesitation, the vampire in the black clothes so reminiscent of the Old West strode to the end of the table. He grabbed Alex's head and held it firm against the tabletop.

"Thank you," Warren said. He glanced down at Alex's face. "Would someone else be so kind as to urge him to open his mouth?"

"Talon," Blackthorne said. A moment later, Talon appeared at the table opposite from Warren. He grabbed at Alex's jaw and forced it open after a bit of a struggle.

Lorelei yanked against her chains fiercely. The force of her efforts resulted in a loud racket. Ba'al looked on with some amusement as she pulled and pulled, even to the point of obvious injury to her hands as the cuffs around her wrists refused to give. "Love hurts, doesn't it, dear Lorelei?" he taunted.

The succubus yanked again on the chains. Neither the links nor the hook in the floor would give, but she kept trying in obvious desperation. Finally Blackthorne said, "Spade, Jack, would you be so kind?" The unoccupied vampires with him walked over to Lorelei and began beating her. She was pummeled to the floor as fists with supernatural strength and a complete lack of mercy fell upon her.

Warren put the funnel partly into Alex's mouth and popped the lid on his flask. He poured in a small amount of the liquid, murmuring words in Greek. Alex coughed and sputtered as best he could, but the hands on his head made it impossible to do anything more. Even this was pointless. Eventually, he swallowed out of panicked reflex despite his efforts at spitting the liquid out.

His body shuddered. Warren held his flask away a small bit, watching and waiting. The room had fallen silent as Lorelei's tormenters let up in their work. Everyone heard Alex let out a stifled whimper of pain.

"Does it hurt him?" Lydia asked.

"Physically, no," Warren explained. "Not at all. However, the River Lethe is said to take away sorrow and pain. To expose the living to it, with its opposite effects, means that the memories that come back first and clearest are those that are most painful. Trauma is relived. Loss occurs all over again. The reason we cannot simply examine his memories immediately is that we must let the psychological turmoil settle first, lest Lord Stefan be subject to his pain."

Lydia smiled broadly. "How dreadful," she mused. Without warning, she snatched the flask from Warren's hand and promptly overturned it into the funnel.

"Not so much!" Warren blurted out, reaching for the flask only to have his hands snatched away by the much stronger demon on top of the prisoner. None of the vampires moved to stop her. Once more, Alex did what he could to spit out the potion, but the fingers that clamped down immediately on his nose blocked any ability to breathe. He couldn't cough out the liquid without any air in his lungs. Eventually, desperate reflex took over and he swallowed.

Lydia withdrew the funnel and flask from his mouth, handing both back to Warren. "There you go," she said sweetly.

Alex coughed, gasped, and then fell silent for a long moment. Tears that had fallen from his eyes in the midst of choking continued to flow. Soon, his body shook as he openly wept. There was no holding back his tears. He hardly seemed aware of his surroundings anymore.

On the floor, Lorelei shook with pain. There was so much desire mixed up in Alex's memories, almost all of it dominated by a sense of loss or desperation or betrayal.

Alex thrashed wildly on the table with greater effect than ever. Lydia chuckled, slipping off of him to let him strain against his bonds. His cries became tumultuous, body-wracking sobs.

Lydia cast a glance and a smirk toward Ba'al. "Teenagers," she snickered. "So much drama." She looked to Warren. "How long will this go on?"

"I am unsure," Warren told her. "It will all depend on how much there is for his mind to sort through. This seems a bit much for one so young, but there may be trauma in his personal history we did not account for."

"Hmpf," Lydia shrugged. She then turned to Blackthorne. "I suppose, then, that while we wait I might fulfill my obligations to your Lady."

Blackthorne eyed the weeping prisoner uncomfortably. "That would be good of you, yes," he murmured.

"Master?" Lydia asked. "Will you accompany us?"

"My time grows short," he noted. "I will accompany you, but... you and you. Deal with her chains," he said, gesturing to Spade and Jack and then to Lorelei. "She comes with me."

"Talon," Blackthorne blinked. "Mitchell. Would the two of you be so kind as to remain here?"

"Sure," the cowboy shrugged. Talon only nodded. They both cast wary glances at the robed sorcerer, who stepped back an extra pace.

As Lorelei's chains were unfastened from the floor, her handlers favored her with another kick to the stomach and another blow across the shoulders. She hardly felt them, though. Instead, she felt her young lover's desires.

Lorelei loved him. She longed to surround him with luxuries and affection, to cherish him and show her gratitude for the changes he'd helped her make in herself for the rest of her days. He forced nothing on her, expected nothing from her... but there it was. The succubus was a better person because of him. In return, she had worked tirelessly to simply teach him to set aside his distant worries and finally learn to have a good time.

As she was pulled away from Alex, Lorelei still felt his desires. It was all flavored with a tempest of desperation, fear, regret and denial. She felt betrayal, loss and terrible, awful loneliness.

As Lorelei was dragged from Alex's side, she felt his strongest desire. The strongest desire she had ever felt from anyone. More than anything else, the only man she ever loved wanted to die.