The Rising

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The Rising Page 17

by L F Seitz


  “Choosing me was a mistake, but I’ll do my best. I just don’t see how he’ll even go after me.” I pushed the door open and stepped from the car.

  “Because you’re more attractive than you think.” I stopped mid-step as the words clicked, and my face grew hot despite the bite of cold in the air. I peered back to see Micah staring forward out the windshield, both hands on the wheel, as he waited for me to close the door. He drove off the moment the door was closed, leaving me vulnerable and alone on the sidewalk outside the lounge. Micah thinks I’m attractive? He said I was more attractive than I think, not that he thought I was. Let’s pretend that’s what he meant. Let’s just pretend he thinks I’m beautiful.

  My confidence slowly climbed from dark depths. I can do this. It’s acting, that’s all it is, and around people I will never see again. People who don’t know my life or my issues. Who just see a big-hipped woman in a tight dress, ready to seduce someone into being her evening snack. I strutted to the door, pushing my hips out like I'd seen models on TV do. The smokers surrounding the door followed me with curiosity and a single whistle. I couldn’t hide the smirk on my dark red lips.

  The inside had a dark ambiance to it, with ebony accents and scarlet walls. Booths surrounded the outer walls of the entire lounge, and a bar sat like an island in the middle. Each booth was made private by maroon velvet fabric, which could be pulled between the seating areas. All the seating was black leather, and the bar was dark wood with soft under lighting. Though the booths were full, the bar was nearly empty, so I took a seat right in the middle. It was a bold move, sitting where everyone could see me, making this even more unlike something I would normally do. Scanning the room, I easily spotted the man we were looking for, at the corner table with a blue hookah, just like Micah said he’d be. He sat against the wall with one leg propped up and his arm resting on his knee. Jaw-length, shaggy black hair, light stubble, and a mustache. He was pretty attractive. He looked like a Caribbean beach model, while I was a pale, mediocre factory worker from Wisconsin. He was surrounded by three beautiful women, definitely not from here. My heart pounded as I stared ahead. The odds were stacked against me. Knowing what he was, though, what those girls might be, my stomach churned in distaste. I peered at myself in the mirror behind the bar and took a deep breath.

  I ordered two vodka shots from the bartender, an older bald man with a gray mustache, drying his hands on a white cloth.

  “Can I see an ID?” I pulled it out and showed him, suddenly acting shifty as I waited for him to catch me. Then we'd have no choice but to retreat and go home.

  He flipped two shot glasses over and filled them with the clear liquid without a word. I handed him a $50 bill from my wallet. I took the first shot and then the second, not minding the burn as it chased my anxiety. I straightened my back and crossed my legs.

  “Anything else?” He asked, taking away the two empty shot glasses. I peeked over at Orias and then at the bartender. There was a scene I’d seen in a James Bond movie once that reminded me of this moment, I wonder if that’s where Micah had seen it too.

  “What is that man drinking over there?” I motioned with my head toward the back corner.

  “He drinks Balvenie 17.”

  “I’d like to buy him one, if you’d be so kind as to deliver it for me.”

  He took it without another word and poured the drink before walking out of sight. The doubt ate at me as I waited for him to come back. What if Orias didn’t ask questions and just accepted the drink?

  “Mr. Orias has welcomed you to his table, if you would like to join him,” the bartender said, in front of me once again. He tilted his head, motioning behind me.

  My breath grew thin as I slowly turned around, giving the best seductive face I could muster, and found his table empty except for him. He was staring right at me with siren eyes, as a white cloud of smoke seeped from his parted lips. I tried not to think about the captivating fear that threatened to pull the air right from my lungs as I stood up. I’m acting; this is all a game. I filled my steps with swagger as I accentuated every footfall with a heavy swing of my hips. When I sat in the booth, I made sure to sit closer than a normal person would, since sitting farther away would make me look timid. I needed him to see my blatant advances so I could get this over with. I sat just beside his foot, creating little space between us. I crossed my legs again, make my dress ride up on my thigh. His attention was on me, weighted and intimidating.

  I stared right back. It was a bold move, but I was grasping at strings as all ideas fell from my head. He didn’t speak but held out the hookah mouthpiece. I took it, not breaking eye contact, and sucked in the tobacco smoke. I felt it tickle the back of my throat as I willed myself not to cough, blowing it out slowly between my slacked lips. I handed it back, and a small smile appeared on his face.

  “Why does a woman such as yourself buy me a drink?” He asked, taking another puff off the hookah.

  “Someone should buy you a drink for once,” I said.

  His irises were hypnotizing – not in a romantic way, but there was something paranormal in his stare. Most likely a trick he used on inferiors. Though I was scared, I found it hard to turn away. “Why buy such an expensive drink for a stranger?”

  Was he interrogating me now? My mind was going blank.

  “I wanted your attention,” I said, softly. Honesty was the only option I could think of. Was it his eyes that were making it so hard to concentrate?

  “Well, you have it. What do you plan to do with it?”

  “Keep it.” My breath hitched as the words fell from my lips, smooth and alluring, in a way I’d never heard myself speak before.

  “Oh? I’ve never seen you before. Surely someone with your beauty would be easy to spot.”

  “In the shadows, it’s easier to sneak up on my prey.” A warmth pooled deep in my being, similar to the hellfire I felt when I shifted into my demonic self. Something dark inside me slipped through and showed itself in these moments as we sat here alone. Something deeper was happening, something to do with his abilities and my genetics.

  “You know who I am?” He sipped his expensive liquor. “Of course. You’re spoken of often among my friends.”

  He said nothing for a long moment as he leaned back and watched me, his gaze slowly traveling across my figure. “Why so interested in me? You want something?” His tone was a little calloused as he regarded me. It was uncharted territory, this warmth lingering just beneath my skin, but I decided to follow it, for the sake of ease. I leaned in toward him.

  “More like someone,” I whispered, looking around as if I were spilling secrets.

  “Name?” He asked. I masked my uneasiness with a mischievous grin.

  “You know his name,” I said, my voice hushed, dripping with a seductive honey I never knew I had. Maybe the easy darkness I felt wasn't coming from within. This fog around me, around him, was seeping into my skin, and twisting me into something else. His eyes taunted me with an eagerness to step further into my demonic heritage, just to see what waited for me.

  He appreciated my every curve. He leaned toward me and pushed my hair away from my neck. The sensation of his skin on mine tingled, like an electric shock. “I have never met a Cambion with such bold desires,” he whispered into my ear. His lips grazed my earlobe. He knew what I was. His breath was heavy on my neck as he began to kiss it. My heart beat so fast, it chipped away at the weird fog he was putting me in, bringing me back to myself. I did find him attractive, but I didn’t want this: to be groped by a stranger. I didn’t want to be here with him, not at all. This was all a game to get information, but it was turning into a sick joke.

  I shook with panic as reality set in. Orias moved his hand to my thigh and slowly toward my hips. He thought I was enjoying this. I wanted it to be over. I needed it to be over.

  “Well, I’m not like all the others, if you’ll allow me to show you ... at my place.” I swallowed hard as I licked my dry lips.

  He pressed hi
s lips to mine, and in a panic, I pressed my hand into his shoulder to shove him away. But this was a game. I was acting. Instead, I gripped the fabric of his shirt and held on for dear life as I begged for it to end.

  “Orias, my place has something you will want to see.” I couldn’t take it anymore as I pulled away. His hand stopped on my inner thigh, inches from my core, and I wanted to rip his fingers off.

  “Meet me outside in five minutes,” he hushed.

  He disappeared before I could say another word. My emotions, suppressed under that heavy blanket of his ability, now hit me like a truck. My hands shook so hard, and my knuckles turned white as I gripped my purse. Tears brimmed. Ever since I met Micah, it’s been so hard to keep my emotions at bay. Maybe I’ve been lying dormant in this boring life for so long that I’m not as strong as I thought I was. I twirled my necklace in trembling fingers as I glanced around the bar but saw no one who looked like Micah. No one was paying attention to me. No one saw my shaken demeanor. I was alone. I felt disgusting, and the thought of his hands on me again made me want to vomit. I should have never agreed to this. I should have never come here. I owed Micah – but at what cost?

  Somehow, I made it outside without tumbling in my heels or having a meltdown. The familiar taxi pulled up, and I wasted no time stepping inside. I wanted to be safe inside it again, for Micah to speed off, but he did no such thing. I let my head fall back against the seat while my shaky breath reverberated through the car. Micah didn’t look back at me or even acknowledge my presence. He was also in character. I didn’t want to be characters anymore.

  Orias came out of the lounge and walked around the taxi to get in on the opposite side. Bile threatened to come up as I realized he was going to touch me again, and I’d have to pretend to like it. I stared out the windshield at nothing as Orias put his arm around my waist and pulled me in, like I was his property now. I could feel the weird fog he pushed on me, but this time, I was ready for it. I wouldn’t let it overpower me. His hand automatically went to my thigh, where it had left off and moved up again. My torso muscles clenched as I smiled, his lips lazily finding my neck as he kissed it.

  “What at your place is so interesting?” Orias murmured, and I was at a loss for words. His touch repulsed me, and it took everything in me not to shove him out of the car.

  “Toys,” I whispered back.

  “Oh?” He bit at my neck, catching my necklace in his teeth. “You are such a beautiful woman, I can only imagine what the demon inside you looks like.” His fingers slid toward my breasts, and my body stiffened.

  “Kiss my neck again; it’s my weakness.” I urged him upward as I closed eyes, trying to appear interested. He wasted no time running his tongue along my collarbone as he continued to grope.

  We were close to my apartment now as Micah sped through the streets. Orias didn’t seem to notice the taxi’s speed. He bit my neck again, and as he groped my bosom, I clenched my fists, biting my lip so hard I could taste the iron in my blood. The sensation of it all was so disgusting it had already burned scars into my mind. Come on, Lamia. After another moment, everything was blurry with tears. Just a few more blocks until I’m home. Home. I caught Micah’s gaze in the rearview mirror, staring back at me, his expression neutral.

  “Stop here,” I called out, opening the door before Micah had even stopped.

  Orias snickered. “So eager to get back.” He encased my hand with his as we walked toward my building. The taxi was gone, and I prayed Micah would be in the alley by the time we passed it. The ice-cold air of the night chilled my bones, forcing a tremor through me in my purple dress. As we came to the alleyway, Orias suddenly yanked me toward him. “I can’t wait anymore,” he said. He shoved me against the brick wall of my complex, trapping my head in his hands and shoved his tongue down my throat. He pressed his body against me so hard I couldn’t catch the breath I needed to scream.

  He stiffened suddenly, enough for me to wiggle free. The needle in his neck was held by Micah, who pulled it out just as Orias went limp and hit the gravel with a thud. I turned and ran inside, up the stairs and into my apartment. I nearly tripped making my way to the counter as my knees buckled. Tears rushed out and soaked my face as I covered my mouth with my hand, silencing my sobs. Saliva pooled in my mouth as bile threatened to come up. My own voice disgusted me. I was on the edge of losing it when the door opened behind me. Micah walked in with the body flung over his shoulder. He froze, shock swirling in his irises.

  “If you ever make me do something like that again, I’ll kill you myself. Do you hear me? I may be complete shit to you, but I’m not a whore who does your bidding,” I ground out, seething. I moved quickly, snatching the baggiest clothes I could find, and slammed the bathroom door behind me. I turned the water all the way up, as hot as it would go. The steaming water hissed as it hit my skin. I wanted to burn all the bacteria from that demon off me. The water could wash away my foolishness for getting sucked into this plan, as well as Orias’s seduction abilities. I scrubbed my face and neck over and over, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t get the sensation of his tongue off me. The tears were heavy and harsh as I wept, shaking beneath the water as I let it all slip from me. I didn’t care if anyone heard me; I just wanted to feel better, to forget. If I sat under the water long enough, I had no doubt I would dissolve and disappear down the drain as well.

  Thirteen.

  WHEN I UNLOCKED THE bathroom door and stepped out, everything in my apartment had been rearranged. The recliner and TV tray were against the far wall, and the man, Orias, was chained to a metal chair Micah had found in the laundry room in the basement. A spray-painted symbol I didn’t recognize surrounded him on the floor, the black paint nearly disappearing into the grayness of the concrete. A bandana covered his eyes, and his mouth was taped shut. Micah leaned against my bedroom doorway, arms crossed, staring at the floor. Ignoring him, I walked to my kitchen and poured food and water for Lux and Nox, taking it to them in the bedroom. Nox came out from under the bed first and began to choke down his food.

  “I know, I don’t like this either,” I said. I petted Nox as he ate. I wordlessly walked past Micah again to the kitchen, grabbed myself a jar of peanut butter and a spoon. Once I was on my bed, Micah shifted his stance.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone soft and wary. I paused, listening, then twisted the top off the peanut butter and proceeded to eat.

  “You knew what was going to happen, I told you I'd never done this before and you gave me no inkling of what to expect.” I sat staring off at the heater’s orange glow. “I don’t know why I didn’t think it would get that far, but once he started touching me –” I shuddered at the thought of his nasty hands on me.

  “I thought you might have been more experienced, that maybe you were just being modest about not knowing how to ... flirt.” He shifted in the doorway. I could feel him studying me as I continued eating.

  “That wasn’t just flirting, and you didn’t warn me of his abilities.” I thought about how his stare put me in a foggy trance that made it hard to concentrate. I thought he was attractive and like any other man, but once we made eye contact, it was like I was being drawn to him. A fly to a Venus flytrap. When he watched me, I felt like everything melted away and it was just us. It’s his ability to draw people in. I bet that’s how he manipulates them.

  “I didn’t know about that,” Micah said. Neither of us said anything for awhile as I thought about Micah in the taxi. When he saw me in distress, tearing up through the rearview mirror ... I swallowed hard at the thought.

  “I know you knew I was ... uncomfortable. Why didn’t you stop him?” Micah’s face was paler than before. He picked at his cuticles. His half-lidded eyes drifted to the comforter on the bed as his shoulders slopped inward and he shoved his hands into his pockets. There was regret in his expression, which should have made me feel better, but it only made me want to hug him. How could he have known the encounter was going to turn out like that? No, I can't let him off
that easy.

  “I wanted to, believe me,” he said. “When I stuck him with the needle, I would have taken pleasure in breaking his neck. He had no right handling you like he did.” The words came out in harsh whispers as he rubbed his forehead. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have said Micah was embarrassed.

  “It was manageable until the taxi –” I said, trailing off.

  “Still, the ride home was horrific, and I apologize. I saw it, and shoved the disgust down, but I’ll bring it out later when he’s awake.” His voice rough, our gazes found one another in the dim light of the heater. There was a merciless tightness to his stone face, his eyes like liquid fire in the orange light. “If I’d done what I – we wanted, he’d be dead and you would have gone through that for nothing. We need the information.”

  “You’re right.” Despite wanting Orias to pay for groping me, I knew we needed the information. The whole groping thing wasn’t entirely Orias’s fault. I came onto him, but it was a game. He was also a demon, so we couldn’t trust him in the slightest. Lux crept out from under the bed and cautiously made his way to the food bowl. Nox had left him a small pile of pebbles to gobble up. I couldn’t help but smile watching Lux. These cats were so sweet to each other.

  “I won’t ever do that to you again,” Micah spoke suddenly. “I am truly sorry, Lamia.” Micah now wore dark wash jeans and a black long-sleeved t-shirt, pushed up to his elbows. There were new stains on his clothes I could only assume were from Orias: a russet red that had once been wet blood. Black paint spotted his fingertips. He was still looking at Orias as the regret twisted into something I couldn’t read.

  “Why don’t you take him back to your people?” I tapped the spoon against the rim of the plastic peanut butter container.

 

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