Alukah

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Alukah Page 7

by Leslie Swartz


  “I broke up with my girlfriend and I’m not sure how I feel about it,” he confessed, noticing how the small office seemed like a time capsule, not having changed a bit in the last few years. Even the doctor looked the same, the only difference being the frames of his glasses were black now instead of silver. “Her job is, um, demanding. There are things she does there that I don’t, I don’t know, approve of? I can’t get past it.”

  “Hmm. I think I understand. Being the partner of someone that does sex work can invoke feelings of jealousy, inadequacy,”

  “What? No, she’s not a sex worker. She’s…in charge of things. Policy-making and law enforcement. Sort of.”

  “Ah, so she works in government. I’m sorry. When you said ‘approve’, I just assumed. My own moral bias. I apologize. Continue.”

  “The point is, there are things about her that I hate. Things she’s done. Things she continues to do. I hate them. But, I love her. Despite everything, I am completely in love with her. I’m in so deep, I can’t see daylight. Literally, sometimes. It’s like my heart and my head are on different pages. Different chapters. Different goddamn books altogether. My brain keeps telling me to stay away from her, but it hurts. I have physical pain in my gut. I crave her like food. I need her like a drug. It’s not normal.”

  “That’s an interesting word.” He picked up the pen and jotted it down. “What do you think ‘normal’ is?”

  “I don’t know,” He thought for a second, recalling the last time he’d ended a relationship. “When Annie left, I was sad. I felt lost. Discarded. Unimportant. This is something else. I’m not moping around and crying all day. I’m having a hard time breathing.”

  The therapist tapped his pen to his lips. “Perhaps, you’re reacting to this breakup differently because you feel differently about this woman than you did your wife.”

  “You think I love her more than I did Annie?”

  “I didn’t say ‘more’. I said ‘differently’. Every relationship, romantic or otherwise, is different. Different dynamics, different personalities. For instance, last we spoke, Annie had suggested you get in-patient treatment for your hallucinations. How does this new woman feel about that?”

  “I haven’t had any since before I met her,” he blurted, realizing immediately what a mistake that was.

  “You haven’t? How is that possible?”

  He gulped, saying the only thing that came to mind. “My sister’s a billionaire.”

  “Ah,” he said, taking his glasses off and setting them on the table. “A sister? I don’t believe you ever mentioned her before.”

  “I didn’t know she existed until recently.”

  “Well, I see much has changed.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Listen, we could do a deep dive of why you feel the way you do and how you may or may not be able to reconcile your feelings for this woman with what you know to be true in your mind, but that could take weeks and I don’t know when you’ll get around to coming back, so I’ll say this plainly. Take my advice: Always make decisions based on what your head tells you is right. Your heart is dumb as shit.”

  Wyatt erupted in laughter. “You cursed? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say ‘shit’ in my life.” He held his stomach as he bellowed.

  “Well, you’re not the only one whose life has changed over the years. Do you remember that woman that interrupted our session a few years ago?”

  He thought back to when he’d first met Gabriel right here in this office. “Yes.”

  “After some soul searching, I decided she was right. I have wasted my talents. In a few months, I’ll be retiring to work on playing full time. I may never play Lincoln Center, but the piano is my passion. So, while it may be unprofessional, from now until I lock up the office for the last time, I’ll use the words that drive the point home most effectively.”

  “Well, they sure did,” he chuckled.

  On the drive home, Wyatt thought about what the doctor had said, giving it careful consideration. He was probably right. His common sense was telling him to stay away. More than that, his instinct to protect his son demanded it. Still, he couldn’t shake this feeling. It sat on his diaphragm like a boulder, radiating through him, begging him to change his mind and plead with her to come back to him.

  I sent Will to your place, he heard his sister’s voice in his head.

  Is he okay?

  He’s fine. A little shaky. Michelle told him about Sinclair.

  On my way.

  Chapter 16

  “Did you know?” Will asked as his father returned home.

  He closed the door and dropped his keys on the island, sitting across from his son, three protein bar wrappers and a half-empty two-liter between them. “Yeah. I wanted to tell you, but it wasn’t my place.”

  “For God’s sake, what is it with you people thinking things are or aren’t your place? If you know something that affects someone else, you should tell them.”

  “Michelle’s her mother. She had the right to tell you herself.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “How do you feel about this? Three’s kind of young to have a kid. Must be weird.”

  “Shut up,” Will snickered, picking up a wrapper and throwing it at him.

  He laughed.

  “Gabriel said she’s at Valerie’s. She said she’s happy there. Do you think that’s true?”

  “I think Gabriel would know if she wasn’t.”

  “Yeah.” He pursed his lips and rested his elbows on the counter, touching his linked fingers to his chin. “I’m really sorry, Dad.”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t know, man, pick something. Murder, property damage, making you a grandfather in your thirties, upsetting you so bad you tried to kill yourself.”

  “Who told you that? Lucifer?”

  “Nobody had to tell me. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the guy who attempted suicide a bunch of times because his dad was an ice cube would do it again when his inner angel killed his own son, although, I am one.”

  He arched an eyebrow and sighed. “Yes, you’re a genius and I have some issues, but I’m all right. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “But, what if--”

  “Let’s go.” He stood, picking up his keys and walking toward the door.

  “Where?”

  “To see my granddaughter.”

  “So, this is Will,” Valerie said, ushering them inside.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Will replied.

  “Did you just call me ‘ma’am’? Sweetie, I know you think that’s polite, but don’t do that again.”

  Wyatt laughed.

  “And you,” she turned her attention to her brother, casting him a judgemental glare. “You need to visit more often. I know it’s a trip, but I miss you.”

  “Grandpa!” Sinclair squealed from the top of the stairs.

  Valerie grinned. “Speaking of people who miss you.”

  The child stepped carefully down the staircase and hurried to where they stood, holding her arms in the air for Wyatt to pick her up, which he did.

  “Hey,” he gleaned. “You got big.”

  “I know! You should have seen my dad’s face. I thought he was gonna have an accident.”

  He laughed again, setting her feet on the floor. “Is he here?”

  “No, he’s at work,” Valerie told him.

  “Daddy!” Sinclair beamed as if noticing Will for the first time. She rushed over and hugged his leg. He froze, her warm reaction to him hitting him like water to the face. He hadn’t expected her to know who he was. He thought there’d be an awkward introduction giving him time to get comfortable. But, she’d recognized him somehow and there was no stalling.

  “Come see my room! My mom painted a whole wall with chalkboard paint.” She took his hand and led him up the steps. He looked back to Wyatt who waved him on with a reassuring smile.

  “See?” She pointed to the wall as they entered the room. It was covered in
an elaborate scene: a sun in the top right corner, grass and flowers of various shades of pink and purple, and a rainbow stretching across a blue sky. “I can draw anything I want and when I want to draw something else, I can just erase it and start over. I made you something.” She stood in front of a small table set low to the ground and took a piece of paper from the pile to her left. He knelt down as she handed it to him. “That’s me, you, and Mommy,” she pointed out. He looked down at the picture, impressed with how accurately she’d sketched them out with colored pencils, matching their skin tones and the color of their eyes perfectly.

  “Good job, sweetie.”

  “Thanks. Can you give it to Mommy? I know she’s afraid to come.”

  He tilted his head, surprised at how her words tugged at his heartstrings. “Yeah, I’ll give it to her.”

  “Thanks, Daddy. It’s okay, I understand. I know why she gave me away. She did the right thing. Can you tell her I miss her and I love her and I’m not mad?”

  His eyes were pools as he nodded.

  “Don’t cry. I’m not sad. My mom and dad are really nice and now that you’re back, you can come visit all the time.”

  “I will. All the time.”

  “Yay! You should go now, though. My dad’s almost home and he’ll feel threatened if he sees you here. It’ll be awkward. He’ll get better about it, though.”

  “Okay,” he said, wiping away a stray tear. “I’ll see you really soon.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed tight before whispering in his ear, “I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise. I love you, Daddy.” She kissed his cheek and let him go.

  “I love you, too, sweetie.”

  “I know.”

  Chapter 17

  “Cake!” Gabriel cheered as Wendy opened the bakery box and presented it to her. Chocolate ribbons adorned the perimeter of the round layer cake while ‘I’m sorry’ was spelled out in vanilla cursive on the top. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I did. I shouldn’t have lied. Even if I could justify not saying anything about that part of my life before, lying about why I was going to New Zealand was really sucky of me. Oh, I almost forgot.” She pulled a plastic container from her shoulder bag. “While I was there, I had these incredible meat pies. You have to try one.” She removed the lid and handed her a pie before taking one for herself.

  “You baked?”

  “I’m multifaceted.”

  “Holy crap!” she said, mouth full.

  “Right?”

  “Lucifer, come taste this!”

  He reluctantly got up from his spot on the sofa and joined them in the kitchen.

  “It’s real food like you like.” Gabriel handed him a pie and took another bite of hers.

  He gave it a sniff and took a bite, raising his eyebrows in approval and taking it with him back to the living room.

  “Don’t get crumbs on my couch!”

  “I really am sorry about lying,” Wendy said. “I’ve never been able to trust anyone with this before.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve never had to trust anyone ever, which is something I need to work on, according to my brother.”

  Lucifer scoffed from the sofa. “You went to Barachiel for relationship advice? Are you mad?”

  “Like you would have been a better choice.” Gabriel retorted.

  He shrugged. “Fair point.”

  “For the record,” Wendy said, tucking Gabriel’s hair behind her ear. “You’ve been a great girlfriend.”

  “Really?”

  “Outstanding.”

  “Well, you are an excellent baker.”

  “Thank you. Maybe later, I’ll show you some of my other talents.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen those.”

  “I still have some tricks up my sleeve.”

  Gabriel laughed.

  “For the love of,” Lucifer huffed, exasperated. “Can you two please take your incessant flirtations to a less common room. Some of us are trying to read in peace.”

  “Gladly.” Gabriel flashed a devious smile as she walked toward her bedroom, beckoning Wendy to follow. “Bring the cake.”

  The old witch took the chicken bones from the pocket of her apron and arranged them in a circle in her palm. She turned them, one by one, as she uttered the incantation, “Otevřít dveře.” In the apparent emptiness of the forest, a shimmering translucence appeared before her. She stepped through it, entering the unseen cottage, hidden to all but her. She replaced the bones and shuffled to the kitchen where a stew pot set simmering on the stove. She took the herbs she’d just picked from her apron and tossed them in, inhaling the aroma with her crooked nose. She picked up the large wooden spoon from the butcher block counter and gave the broth a stir, scraping up the bits that had stuck to the bottom while she was outside. An eyeball and two tiny fingers floated to the top as she tasted the hot liquid. She smacked her lips a few times and added a dash of salt, stirring it again before putting a lid on it and hobbling to the rocking chair just a few feet away in the living room. She sat, saving her energy. She’d need all she could muster when she finally went for the girl. She was almost out of food and the child from the park with the smokey eyes and the deadly abilities was powerful enough to fuel her existence for months if not years. From what she’d observed, she was sure once she got a taste of the girl’s flesh, she’d be stronger than ever. She just had to get close.

  As the sun set, Will waited anxiously for Michelle to wake up. He sat on the edge of the bed, holding the drawing their daughter had made for them, tearing up as he thought about what he’d say and how she’d react.

  “Will,” She opened her eyes and sat up. “Why are you sitting there like that? Is something wrong?”

  “I just need to talk to you.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I went to see Sinclair today.”

  “What?” She stared at him, hope and worry in her eyes. “Is she all right?”

  His lip quivered as he handed her the drawing. “She’s perfect. She wanted me to give this to you. It’s us.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks as she studied the drawing. “How old is she now? She was just a baby.”

  “She’s about four or five. She’s aging a little faster than I did, but--”

  “And she’s okay? She’s happy? Safe?”

  “Yeah, she said Valerie and Malik are really nice. She said,” he caught a breath in his throat. “She said she loves you and misses you and she understands why you gave her away. She said we can visit whenever we want.”

  She covered her mouth, stifling the cries that begged to escape her throat.

  He took his phone from his pocket and showed her the picture he’d taken of her standing in front of the rainbow she’d created on her chalkboard wall. She looked down at the screen, sobbing into her hand. She closed her eyes, shoving the phone away, shaking as she wiped the tears from her face.

  “I can never visit her.”

  “Of course you can,” he told her. “She said--”

  “It doesn’t matter what she said, she’s a kid. She doesn’t understand what I am, what I could do to her. Besides, if another vampire sees me with her and figures out she’s mine, they’ll kill her. Not to mention, Lucifer. If you and your dad are hanging out, he won’t care about where you’re going. But, if I tag along? He might follow us just to make sure I don’t try to eat you both.”

  “My dad wouldn’t have to go with us.”

  “Yes, he would. I can’t trust myself and I know in my soul that if I went feral, you wouldn’t have the heart to stop me before I did something horrible. But, he would. Your dad would protect you and Sinclair with his life because that’s what he does.” She dropped her head, fighting back more tears. “I hate what I am. I hate everything about it. If you weren’t back, I don’t know how much longer I would’ve been able to hang on, Queen’s dungeon or not.”

  “Hey,” he lifted
her chin. “You can do anything. You’re amazing.”

  She smiled through fresh tears and kissed him softly before getting up and pulling on a pair of jeans. “I need to be alone for a while.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah,” She kissed him again and headed for the door. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back soon.”

  He watched her go, wishing there was something he could do to make her feel better. As the pain in his head grew in intensity, he rubbed his temples and tried to focus on something else. He looked at Sinclair’s picture on his phone, calming himself, taking a deep breath, grateful that she was safe where she was, away from Allydia and away from Lucifer.

  Michelle wandered the streets for hours, ignoring the hunger growing within her, pushing it down, too overcome with emotion to worry about things as trivial as feeding. She swallowed her tears and concentrated on her steps, the sound her ballet flats made against the pavement, and the feeling of the night air turning crisper with the approaching Fall.

  In the distance, she heard a woman scream. “Not your business,” she told herself. But, as the stranger cried for help again, Michelle’s instinct to help overpowered the one to self-preserve. She bolted toward the noise, deep into a wooded area of the park. There, she came upon a woman in leggings and a sports bra being dragged by the ponytail by a man twice her size. The two women locked eyes, the jogger’s pleading for help as she fought to break free from the tall man’s grasp. Without hesitation, Michelle threw herself at him, knocking him to the ground, forcing his hands away from his would-be victim.

  “Run,” Michelle warned the woman, who had already begun dialing nine-one-one. She hurried off just as the man sprung up and slapped Michelle across the face. She licked the blood from her lip, fangs descending, her pupils dilating. “That was dumb.” She leaped up, striking him down with a back-handed smack. She flung herself on top of him, holding him down by the shoulders. Before she knew what she was doing, she clamped onto his carotid artery, draining him as he struggled beneath her, a fight no human could win.

 

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