by Kim Petersen
‘Craig,’ he nodded curtly, a little too much smug infecting his voice.
Craig ignored him and continued to search Millie’s face. ‘So, you’ve made a choice then?’ his voice hollow.
Millie shook her head and stepped towards him. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. It can’t go down this way! How could I let it go this far?
‘No! Craig, it just happened. I wasn’t thinking … I’m sorry,’ she pleaded for the understanding she knew she didn’t deserve.
Craig nodded and held up a hand to stop her in her tracks. ‘I understand, Millie,’ he said. He dragged his eyes from hers and turned away. The long black tails of his trench coat lapped the corner of the door before he disappeared down the alley way.
Silence hung in the room as Millie digested the events that had just occurred. She slowly turned and looked at Damon; her expression bore the heart that shattered beneath her breast.
He watched her closely. ‘You didn’t mean for that to happen, Millie?’ he said.
She shrugged in defeat. ‘I don’t. I don’t anything right now.’ She slumped into a chair beside the bench.
‘Well I do. The bond between you and I was strong enough to bring us together again – despite your father’s efforts at keeping us apart when I tried contacting you over and over. Our bond will endure anything, Millie,’ he said.
He walked to her and gently smoothed back her hair.
She gave him a small smile. ‘I need some time to think, Damon. Would you mind?’ she said.
‘Sure,’ he said, leaning to brush his lips against her forehead. Then he left her alone in the studio to ponder her thoughts.
‘The energy will always go where it’s directed,’ she muttered to herself as she watched the door swing closed.
She had been under that willow tree again and again in her thoughts. She always knew it would come to pass again.
Bella cupped her hands over her mother’s. She squeezed gently and looked at their entwining fingers for a moment. Never could she remember her mother’s hands appearing so fragile before this day. Gone were the sure strong hands that would scoop her up and hold her close as a child when she awakened with nightmares. Lost were firm fingers that would run through her hair as her mother tied it back for school.
She swallowed the tears that blinded her eyes as her gaze drifted to her mother’s sleeping face. They had not long arrived home from the doctor’s rooms where they had received her mother’s recent test results following her bout of radiation therapy.
She had almost fainted in those rooms. The words that the doctor uttered struck her like a bloody sword when he revealed her mother’s fate. His compassionate horn-rimmed eyes had studied them silently before he spoke.
‘I’m sorry, Rose, Annabella,’ he uttered before visibly inhaling. ‘The cancer has not responded as we had hoped. In fact, the tumour has worsened. It has spread into other parts of the body and has evolved into what we call, metastatic cancer. Unfortunately, metastatic stomach cancer is not considered to be curable.’
He continued to speak yet his words drowned in Bella’s ears. It was then that her world began to spin. Her eyes were open, she was sure, yet she could see nothing – not the balding doctor with the speckled brown eyes that bore news of the inevitable death of another parent, nor her mother who sat beside her as silent as the dead of night.
‘It’s important at this stage that we keep you as comfortable as possible.’
‘I am referring you to book a room in Calvary Hospital … 24-hour, around the clock care …’
The words jumbled around her mind and danced in a spin until she could string them together again.
‘No!’ she blurted loudly, ‘She’s not going to Calvary. People don’t leave that hospital. No-one gets better there. No-one!’ She shook her head and peered at her mother.
Rose smiled with resignation at her daughter.
‘Mum? Tell him you’re not going there,’ she pleaded.
Her mother placed her hand over Bella’s. Her hand was as cold as a sheet of ice, despite the warmth in the doctor’s room.
‘It’s going to be okay, pumpkin. Calvary sounds just like the place I need right now. Better for me there,’ she said.
Bella was unable to choke back the tears. ‘But mum,’ she cried.
Rose rubbed her daughter’s hands. ‘Now, now Bella,’ she crooned, ‘we’ll discuss this at home later.’
The warmth of her mother’s voice sliced through the chill that anguished Bella’s heart, and she agreed to talk more about Calvary when they arrived home. Memories of the life-filled joyful woman who raised her filled her senses as she regarded the weakened woman before her. Thinning white hair clumped in sparse strings over an age-spotted scalp that crowned the sunken pasty skin of her face. Each shallow breath came short and barely noticeable under the flaccid movement of her chest.
Bella pressed the palm of her hand over her chest to make sure she was still breathing. She sighed heavily and rose to place a kiss on her mother’s forehead before leaving her to sleep. They would talk more when she regained her strength. The morning’s outing had depleted her energy entirely.
She went to the kitchen and rummaged through a cupboard until her hands found what she sought. Shaky fingers tore at the foiled chocolate wrapper, and once opened, she stuffed the sweet concoction into her mouth. As she swallowed the caramel infused chocolate bar, a fleeting feeling of comfort waved through her. I need more! she thought, kicking into action in search of more chocolate.
Her mission came to a sudden halt when the sound of the doorbell chimed through the quiet house. She froze, lifting her head to curiously eye the box above her that housed the chiming sound, as if it might reveal her visitor.
It sounded again and she flew down the narrow hallway to answer the door before it disturbed her mother. She was surprised to see Craig when she drew the door open. He stood tall and smiling with a leather satchel bag strapped over his chest and large box next to his feet. Bella smiled through darkly lashed eyes. Brushing a lock of her shoulder-length hair from her face, she clutched at the ends in a twist.
‘Mr Adams, I wasn’t expecting you today,’ she said, trailing her gaze to the rectangular box next to him.
‘Craig,’ he corrected, ‘and I know, I have some papers for you and your mother to sign. I was driving past and saw your car in the drive. I hope you don’t mind.’ He gestured towards the large box. ‘Besides, I bring gifts.’
‘That’s okay, come in,’ she smiled.
She led him to the back of the house and into the kitchen. ‘Tea?’ she asked over her shoulder.
Craig dropped the box to the floor before loosening the belt of his trench coat. ‘That would be lovely,’ he said.
Silently focusing on her tea-making task, the slender curve of her shoulders slumped as she was lost in the hot swirling liquid as she stirred it.
He watched her thoughtfully. ‘Hard day?’ he asked as she brought the tea to the table where he had some papers splayed out for her to look at.
She sighed. ‘Yeah. They want to admit my mum to Calvary,’ she said.
Craig nodded. ‘I’m so sorry, Bella,’ he sympathised.
She forced a short smile, noticing the compassion in his eyes, and the empathy in his voice. It was all she could do to not break down again. Instead, she cleared her throat and swallowed hard. ‘So, what’s that?’ she said, pointing to the box.
Craig chuckled lightly. ‘Open and see,’ he said.
Hesitantly, she leaned to unfold the cardboard flaps, and gasped when she caught sight of a new heater. ‘Craig, I can’t accept this,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘Yes you can, Bella. You see, I bought this a few months back when I thought my life was on track,’ he sighed. ‘Things have changed and I have no use for it now; my apartment is small and I already have heating. I was going to give it to charity, but then … last week when I was here …’
He shrugged and regarded the heater with the eyes
of a lost puppy dog. Bella watched him closely. This man she hardly knew had somehow crept in and moved her soul in ways she had not ever known, and it puzzled her. For the first time since he had arrived, she really looked at him. Her heart sank as she recognised the weary expression that etched his features, revealing his own inner turmoil.
He tore his eyes from the boxed heater between them. ‘Please accept it, Bella,’ he said.
Her head bowed as she lowered her eyes. As her stare found the knot of her twisting fingers, she became aware of the burn that slowly crept up and flushed through her cheeks. She gave a quick nod and avoided his eyes.
Craig watched her while the silence between them stretched to an uncomfortable lull. They were both startled when the doorbell chime echoed through the soundless kitchen. Bella excused herself with an air of relief wafting over her as she made a dash for the front door.
‘Hi Bella-rella, how did it go this morning? How is she?’ Emma stood in the doorway, her dark eyes swimming with concern while she grasped at a cluster of shopping bags.
‘Hi Em. She’s resting, come in,’ Bella took some bags from her friend and led her towards the kitchen.
Emma waffled on while following her. ‘I have chocolates, salt and vinegar chips, popcorn and for old-time’s sake – Pretty Woman,’ she chirped.
‘Gotta love Pretty Woman,’ Bella mumbled.
‘Well, yeah. Oh, and I have a big bottle of Coke and …’ Emma stopped short when she rounded the doorway and caught sight of Craig sitting in the kitchen.
‘Oh, hello.’ Emma’s surprise immediately overturned into a smooth purr. Short fingers flew up to straighten her mousy brown hair, and ample breasts strained against the knit blouse she wore as she unravelled her slumping frame. Crooked teeth gleamed bright. ‘And who might you be?’
Craig smiled and gathered his satchel bag. ‘Craig Adams. Bella’s real estate agent.’ He offered his hand.
She took his hand and pumped eagerly. ‘Emma Hudson. Nice to meet you.’ She shot Bella a not-so-conspicuous look.
Craig turned to Bella as he pulled on his coat. ‘I’ll leave the sale contracts for you to go over. Drop them into the office whenever you’re going by; no rush,’ he remarked with a tired smile.
‘Sure.’
He pulled something from his satchel bag before scooping it up and flinging it over his shoulder. ‘Oh, I wanted to give you this.’ He pushed a business card into her hand.
She glimpsed towards the card as she took it from him. ‘Holly’s art studio?’ Her eyes widened.
Craig pushed a lingering curl from his brow. ‘Yeah. I know Holly, and I know she would love your sculptures. Give her a call,’ he said casually, turning to Emma to bid his goodbyes.
Bella watched his exit with a mix of uncertainty and reprieve. ‘Bye Craig. And thanks,’ she mumbled, closing the door behind him.
She exhaled and leaned against the wooden frame, gazing at the card and turning it over and over with steeple fingers. She closed her eyes to steady the slight upbeat of her heart. Where did that come from? she thought, surprised by her racing pulse.
‘Bella!’ Emma’s soft call trailed down the quiet hall of the house.
Bella inched off the door. ‘Coming,’ she replied, grateful for the distraction of her friend.
July 31, 1998
Dear Journal,
It has been a week since I have seen Craig. A week since he discovered a stolen kiss. And while I feel terrible for the hurt I know I have caused him, I cannot help but envision that moment with the stirring of sweet tinges.
Does that make me a bad person? It’s just, it has been so long since I have known Damon’s intimate touch upon my skin … and the warmth of his kiss against my own – not only was it exquisite to feel him again, it also felt like coming home.
Damon evokes the deepest feelings of physical and spiritual hunger within me; I don’t know how to deny it much longer.
When I asked Samantha for her advice, she told me only that love is the recognition of our true being, and the cornerstone in the desire for human fusion – she may be my guiding angel yet at times her advice baffles me!
I do not want to see Craig feeling any which way but happy. I wish I could ease his turmoil, yet I know now that I am not the one for him.
Last night my brother impressed himself upon my dream world. His essence draws closer, stronger as he ponders his revenge.
I believe that there is only one force in all the universe which creates according to what we conceive and allow – the right use of this power will create a blessing, while the wrong use will create harm. It works for evil as much as for love. And it’s evil that grips the heart of my brother.
Millie xo
The glint of his eyes deepened and frolicked against the gentle lick of flames as Ace lost himself to the devouring seduction of the fire. He leaned forward and clenched his hands high above his head in a lazy stretch. The rippling contours of his muscular body gleamed and shadowed naked under the incandescent glow of the room. A drowsy smile appeared as he marvelled at the change in his life since he had met Madison.
He had followed her to this humble cottage only two weeks earlier, yet he felt as if he had known her a lifetime. He fell back against the soft pile of a woollen rug as the last two weeks drifted through his thoughts.
‘Where are you taking me?’ he demanded with a sudden halt.
They had been trekking through the damp foliage for some twenty minutes, and as each step grew soggier beneath his feet, so too had his impatience.
Madison stopped to regard him. ‘I told you, I’m taking you to my home. It’s not far now, C’mon,’ she insisted, with a shake of her blazing curls.
Ace scowled. I should have just killed her, he seethed.
A ring-decorated hand reached out and grasped at his fingers. ‘C’mon, Ace of games. I won’t hurt you,’ she taunted.
He snatched his hand from hers with a grunt, then stepped closer to her. ‘Believe me, I am not afraid of you. And don’t fucking touch me,’ he snarled. White teeth glistened with the streaks of moonlight falling through the trees.
She threw a dirty glance over her shoulder and shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. You’ll be singing a different tune soon enough,’ she chimed.
Ace scowled again and followed her in silence. His suspicion was unable to overcome the compelling urge to follow her. This unusual occurrence only served to annoy him even more. Apepsis. The name twisted through his mind with the painful uncoiling of a long-kept sordid secret. The thought of knowing the serpent master’s name was enough to evoke a titillating sensation through him. He knew he had to find out more.
The dense shrub eventually gave way to a clearing, and a small stone cottage came into view. He filled his lungs with the whiff of smoke as it curled from the chimney and into the cold night. He inhaled deeply. He loved the smell of burning wood. And there was something else. He drew another breath and became aware of his empty stomach. Irish stew.
‘This is where you live?’ he said, following her up the porch steps.
Much like a child, she skipped up the stairs and flung the door open. ‘Yep, for now,’ she grinned. ‘Hungry?’
Ace nodded and followed her inside. He sat by the fire while she banged pots and pans together in the kitchen before emerging with a generous bowl of Irish lamb stew and a glass of red wine.
‘Hope you like red wine,’ she stammered.
Suddenly appearing vulnerable, she placed the bowl and burgundy filled glass on the coffee table before him.
He watched her, drinking in her short, buxom image now that his view was not tainted by the dark. His eyes drifted to the emblem around her neck. Instinctively, her fingers found the emblem and she stroked it lovingly as she beamed towards him.
His eyes met hers with the frost of ice. ‘Talk,’ he commanded.
He ravenously picked up the steaming bowl of stew, and settled back to hear what had brought him all the way to this cottage.
Madison
perched on the sofa opposite him. ‘Apepsis is the serpent god. The personification of evil. Since the beginning of time, Apepsis has sought to reign power over this world, and since the beginning of time, the Ascended Angels have strived to stop him. Each utilise humans in their will to triumph. Through incarnations to planting seeds to metamorphism, humans provide their only means to physicality,’ she said.
Ace paused between mouthfuls and frowned. ‘Why does Apepsis want power over this world,’ he said.
‘Apepsis has been shunned from all other realms. The Ascended Angels, the Cherubs, and the gods inhabit all others. Earth was assigned for the freewill of humans to make their own paths and lessons that would eventually lead them back towards the light. Apepsis lives in between. Earth is his last resort to claim for himself as humans can make for easy manipulation in his desire to populate the earth with his will.’
Ace nodded. ‘Okay. Sounds pretty heavy.’ He took a swig of wine. ‘Why does he come to me?’
Ruby coloured lips spread wide. ‘Because you have allowed him. You have more power than anyone I have heard to possess. I mean, I had heard of Apepsis using the powers of shape-shifting upon humans, but you are the first I have known,’ she said.
For the first time Ace noticed the smattering of freckles that littered her face. Cute freckles.
She lowered her head and gazed at him through thick lashes. ‘That makes you kinda special,’ she said coyly.
‘And those freckles make you kinda dishy,’ he remarked.
He took another sip of the wine and sprawled back in the sofa with a smoky grin.
She threw him a dazzling smile and dropped to her knees. ‘Apepsis promises riches and power to his loyal followers,’ she said huskily as she began a slow crawl towards him. ‘I can help you, Ace of games.’
He watched her every move through seductive eyes, and when she reached him, he squirmed slightly against the bulge that pressed against the confines of the tight jeans he had stolen. The only sound in the room came from the irregular spit and crackles of the fire. She unbuttoned her shirt and removed her lacy black bra.