The Illusion (Book Two in The Illusion of Certainty Series)

Who's At Fault

I slipped right into one of Michael’s memories. Apparently he could block me from feeling his emotions but not from his memories or dreams.

This one was weird though, warped even.

“You’ve done this!” a woman screamed at a man. “You took him after I told you to kill him. You kept him alive.”

“He’s my son. What did you expect? I love him! I wasn’t about to kill him.”

Michael sat just outside the door to his father’s sitting room. It was open just a crack so he could see and hear everything.

“I expected you to honor our marriage vowels. I expected you to be the black hearted bastard you made me believe you were.”

“I love my son and I will not allow you to hurt him.”

Michael’s father walked towards the door and Michael scurried back. His father frowned when he saw Michael sitting there. He opened his mouth to say something but then there was a thunk and then his father’s eyes grew wide.

“Run, Michael,” he whispered.

His father fell and pushed open the door. There was a stake protruding from his father’s back.

“Father!”

Michael scrambled over and took the stake out. He turned his father over and stared down at the now lifeless face. He looked up at the woman.

“You killed him!” Michael shrieked. “Why?”

“Because he wasn’t what I expected. And neither are you.” She sneered, breaking another chair leg. “You shouldn’t mourn him, Michelangelo. Your feelings and emotions make you weak.”

Michael got up and screamed. He surged forward with the stake and tried to impale her with it. Just like his father had taught him. ‘Through the heart Michael. It’s the only way to kill a Vampire.’ The woman caught his arm before he could put any more strength behind the blow.

“Such a murderous rage in you,” she said, squeezing his wrist.

The stake fell out of his hand and clattered against the floor. She kept a hold of him but kneeled down in front of him. She took his face by the chin.

“Look at me boy,” she said. “Your father was weak. He loved, he cared. Those emotions will lead you nowhere. Look where it got him. I can train you to be ruthless, the perfect killer. Would you like that?”

Michael tried to look back at his father. “You took him away. You killed him.”

“Yes.” She twisted his face back to look at her. “I’m your mother and I killed your father. And now I will make something out of you, even if I have to beat it into your skin. Love makes you weak, Michelangelo. Remember that.”

She tossed him from the room. “Run, boy. It’s time we burn the past down.”

She took a log out of the fire place and proceeded to set the room on fire. Michael knelt down next to his father.

“I am sorry, Papa. I couldn’t protect you.”

Michael closed his father’s eyes and took the ring off his finger. He slipped it onto his own.

Then he took off, tearing through the house, out running the flames that licked at his bare feet. He made it outside just as part of the roof collapsed. Michael came to a stop and turned back. He was crying now and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get the tears to stop falling.