Death's Widow

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Death's Widow Page 18

by Lori Aisling


  Laying me down on the plush comforter, he trailed kisses down my neck, pushed my printed summer dress up to my waist, and slipped off my panties. I heard the heavy drapes that covered the windows slide open and the soft green glow from our realm cast its subtle light on my skin.

  “I want to see you, Amara. I want to see the love in your eyes and the pleasure I give you. His fingertips trailed up my legs and inner thigh, his index finger sliding ever so slowly between my folds. My breathing hitched and my lips parted when a moan slipped past them. “Just like that,” he purred. “To watch you come undone under me is a sight to behold.”

  He dominated every nerve ending in my body, playing them like a master composer directing a symphony. His hands, mouth, and tender nibbles soon had me writhing under him, begging for release. I heard the zipper on his pants, then the fabric hit the floor a moment before his solid length stretched me, filling me completely. My back arched and I cried out as a wave of pleasure flooded through me.

  Steady, deep thrusts escalated an approaching tide of sensation and with his hands firmly gripping my waist, his fingers began to dance and play along the mark on my back binding me to him. The action compounded the flood of erotic rapture, shoving me towards its pinnacle.

  “Open your eyes, love. Let me watch you as you come for me.”

  My lids fluttered open at his command and the silver orbs staring back at me captured me in their intensity as my release struck hard, stealing the breath from my lungs. His name left my lips in a guttural cry-

  My body jerked at the sound of Callon’s name and I shot upright in the chair. My heart sank, realizing I fell asleep and dreamed of my lost love. My throat tightened as grief wracked through me. My fingers dug into the hard wood of the desk and a cry ripped free, flooding the silent space around me.

  I screamed at the vacant room, my shrieks releasing the pain, yet leaving space for the rage as it waited patiently to assume its rightful place in my soul. I pulled myself from the chair and ran to the front door, stumbling into the warm, persisting drizzle. I raced through the greenish-grey mist, tripping and falling to my knees. The wisps danced just outside my vision, blurred further by the tears falling unabated down my cheeks. My sobs shattered the quiet, serene void and I stared up at the moonless sky, feeling the depth of my loss.

  Needing him so desperately, craving the sound of his voice, the touch of his hands, I screamed into the abyss and I swear it felt my pain. The rain increased in intensity, warm and insistent while it sent its tender trickles down my bare arms and tear-streaked face. The wisps swayed closer, slowing their movement as if to soothe me. I fell to my side and my fingers sunk into the sodden ground, my tears adding to the pools collecting around me.

  I laid there, my soaked dress clinging to my rail-thin frame as the reality of my new existence finally hit home. This was it. I was Death; destined to be alone and grieving the loss of my bonded mate. Letting the energy of my realm surround me with its acceptance, I cried until I fell asleep- nothing but the wisps and the void to witness my pain.

  Dipping Oil

  My eyelids fluttered open, giving me a sideways view of the sparse landscape. Wet hair stuck to the side of my face and my body throbbed with a bone-deep ache from lying in one position for too long. As I sat up, the painful tingles of returning circulation delivered its pinpricks down into my fingertips.

  Stumbling to my feet, I briefly assessed my current state: The leather sandals were surely ruined and they squished when I took a step, my linen summer dress now resembled a mud-streaked, fabric sack, and it was going to require a good scrub brush to remove all the dirt packed under my broken nails.

  I couldn’t go back into the house; everything was still too raw. My dream about Callon ripped me open and pulled out pieces, I could feel the empty holes left behind. On the plus side, my anger at having him taken from me was turning into a very effective salve, coating the hurt and injured parts with its numbing toxin.

  Without putting any real thought into it, I took two steps and was walking into the bathroom at our villa in Morocco. I turned on the shower and pulled the filthy, still-dripping dress over my head where it dropped unceremoniously to the tile floor in a muddy puddle. Nude, I went into the kitchen where I left my tote when I entered the house to confront the condemned soul. Plugging the memorized number into my cell phone, I left a voicemail for Jeremiel. “Hey, it’s me. Call me when you get this, we need to talk.”

  I left the phone on the counter and noticed the caretaker had been here since I left. The generous man delivered a basket with fresh fruit, goat cheese, and aromatic sweet rolls. His wife was an amazing cheesemaker and baker, and I was grateful for his thoughtful gift. I shoved half of a roll into my mouth, letting the powerful flavor of the anise seed set my tastebuds ablaze. I previously believed I disliked the spice, but since sampling it in traditional recipes, I developed a liking for it.

  I walked back into the bathroom and stepped under the warm stream. Dirty rivulets trickled down my legs while I watched the swirling pool of muddy water disappear down the drain. When the shower began to feel tepid, I realized I was lost in my thoughts, trying to organize the chaotic mass of events describing the last few days of my life.

  Although the majority of my ‘list’ was now complete, I still needed to figure out what I was going to do with my publishing company. I clearly didn’t have time to dedicate to it right now. Kyle and Lynn might have some advice on how to keep it running until I formulated a better plan. Unraveling the mystery of my mate’s disappearance was the only issue of importance in my life.

  Callon’s accountant showed me the ridiculously long list of holdings and real estate, and although most of them were fairly self-sufficient, it was still going to take time to assure they were all being maintained properly. I let my memory run down the list, many of the locations were foreign to me- Callon owned more property than I previously believed.

  My eyes shot open and the loofa sponge hit the floor. I twisted the knob, shutting off the now cool water and streaked through the house, my dripping body leaving wet footprints as I slipped around the corner and into the kitchen. Sliding to a stop at the tote, I fell to my knees and tugged at the metal zipper, cursing aloud as it stuck. My trembling fingers pushed the treasured notes and t-shirt to the side before wrapping around the smooth glass bottle of rapeseed oil. Pulling it free, I spun it around to read the label. Extra-virgin blah, blah, blah, produced in Shrewton, Wiltshire. I recalled the accountants list in my mind. Callon owned a house there.

  In 90 seconds or less, I tugged on jeans and a t-shirt, pulled on a pair of Vans, then slung my wet hair into a bun. I grabbed my cell and accessed the internet to find the closest airport to Shrewton, complete with pictures. That was the problem with just ‘popping in’ somewhere you have never been. Since I was unfamiliar with the area, I didn’t want to suddenly ‘appear’ in someone’s living room in the general vicinity. Sway was great and all, but until I could firmly hold a picture in my mind of where I was going, it was safer and easier on the mortal mind to seamlessly blend into a busy airport.

  Slinging the tote over my shoulder, a moment later I appeared in front of a bank of kiosks, a group of anxious travelers punching codes into the busy machines. The airport here in Southampton wasn’t what I would call crowded by any stretch and I trickled out my sway, nothing to see here, nothin’ to see, while I scanned the area looking for the rental car counter.

  I retrieved my cell and called the accountant while I waited in line behind a woman holding a squirmy, yet social, little toddler. The tyke poked his tongue out at me, then smiled; little flirt. I smiled back and gave him a wink while requesting a text message with the address of the property Callon owned here.

  My nerves vibrated as I bounced on my toes, impatiently waiting for the keys to the rental car. I didn’t paid any attention at all to the poor guy running the counter, signing every piece of paper he shoved in front of me as quickly as possible without reading it, and essentia
lly throwing my credit card at him when he asked if the car he offered was acceptable. He didn’t understand- it really didn’t matter to me at all. Give me a 4 x 4 monster truck and I’ll Gravedigger my ass to the address that was delivered with the last ding of my phone. Actually, that would be excellent because I could drive over traffic.

  The little blue compact was far from a car-crushing truck, but it was equipped with a GPS and my excited fingers jabbed the address into the console. I waited nervously to hear the robotic, English-accented guide direct me to what I knew was a clue, left intentionally by my love.

  My mind conjured a million questions with no answers as I drove the 35 miles, excuse me, 54 kilometers, to the desired destination. Did Callon know something was going to happen to him? If so, why did he keep it from me? HOW could he hide it? Our bond created an emotional connection to each other that was quite transparent. I could feel his pleasure, anger, humor, and happiness. How could I have missed something as monumental as this? I mean, thinking you might be killed or taken should have evoked some kind of stress response.

  “I’ll kick his ass when I find him,” I grumbled aloud, speaking only to the empty passenger seat. Instead of talking to me and making a plan, I’m playing Hansel and Gretel trying to chase a trail of breadcrumbs, hoping there isn’t some crazy-ass, bone-eating witch at the end of the trail he left. Fuck her. I’ll eat her black heart sauteed in butter and dipped in goddamn rapeseed oil.

  The thought caused my lips to pull back in a crazy grin. Not because I desired human, (or witch) heart as a snack, but because the thought of violence was becoming entirely too comforting and I now enjoyed allowing my mind to conjure images of the deeds I would do to those responsible for their treachery.

  The pleasant, well-mannered robotic guide led me to a quaint, yet immaculately maintained cottage off the beaten path. The windows were framed by red shutters and the cream-colored siding appeared to have been recently painted. The engine of the car had not even stopped running before I grabbed my bag and flew to the front door. I accessed the text message and typed the code provided to me into the weatherproof keypad, my breath leaving me in a staccato beat, my nerves as jumpy as a live wire in the rain.

  The door unlocked with a soft click and I flung it open, stepping into the homey entrance of the country getaway. The interior decorating screamed Callon and I felt tears push their way incessantly into my line of sight. I used the back of my hand to wipe them away and took a deep breath. Polished hardwoods and earth-tone paints set the scene before me with pops of color provided by rich, jewel-toned fabrics. It wasn’t unlike our home, actually, and I struggled with the conflicting emotions of wanting to be only here and anywhere else but here.

  My bag hit the floor, and I gently pulled the door shut. With my eyes closed, I settled my breathing and forced the stampede of emotions back into the corral where they belonged. I took a deep breath and began a self-tour of the little cottage. It didn’t take long to find the bedroom. My heart threatened to burst through my chest and abandon ship when I pulled open the double doors to the walk-in closet and Callon’s scent assaulted my senses.

  Damn you, baby. His clothes were pushed together to make room for garment bags with Nina’s signature label embossed on the outside. I knew upon opening them, I would find something for all occasions, and they would fit perfectly. My mate either planned on bringing me here…or he knew I would come.

  An antique dresser faced me at the back of the closet. I flipped the light switch and a soft glow seemed to highlight the oiled wood and brass pulls. In the close space, with the smell of his cologne, his presence seemed to drench the air and I felt as if I were pulled forward. Reaching out with shaking fingers, I slid the top drawer open.

  Setting on the very top of neatly folded garments was an envelope. In handwriting I would recognize anywhere was two words- My Love.

  All of Me

  I stood and stared at the cream-colored stationery as my body flooded with emotion. Sadness, grief, anger, confusion- so many feelings. But one overrode them all; Love. The intense love I carried for this man was beyond words, beyond even my own comprehension. It was at that precise moment I realized there was nothing I wouldn’t do for him. No hard line, no exception, whatsoever.

  The envelope was smooth between my fingers, the words blurring as tears pooled. I backed out of the small closet, my eyes never leaving my prize for fear it would vanish and I would realize this was a dream and awaken. The edge of the bed bumped the back of my knees and I sat, watching in a trance-like state as I pulled the folded letter from its keeper. Like a drought-stricken woman craving the tiniest drop of water, my eyes fixated on the familiar text and I clung to the pages like a lifeline as I read:

  Amara,

  My Love. My most prized possession, closest friend, and keeper of my heart. I am deeply sorry. I never thought it would come to this.

  Please know I never intended to leave you. I promised you eternity and safety and it’s because of that vow I pen this letter- I would never want you unprepared.

  If you are reading this, then you have now inherited my legacy and I cannot imagine it in more capable hands than yours. Regardless of what occurs, always remember the souls are innocent; they have no one except you to fight for them.

  I have never lied to you, or kept secrets. The safeguards I put into place I hoped would never come to fruition. To find this letter, then you must have accessed my voicemail and retrieved the clue from Nina.

  For me to have fallen, the fault is entirely my own. I have been too lenient, too lax on the factions; I cannot think of any other explanation. Do not repeat my mistake, they need to respect you. Never hesitate to force your demands.

  I can tell you one thing I know as fact: You must trust no one.

  Never give up, and never stop fighting. I know that is one thing I never have to fear. My brave warrior who refused to give up on her desire for true love- even on her deathbed. It was the best day of my life- the day you chose me as your future. I hope you never regret your choice, my eternal love, as I never will. Everything I do, I do for you.

  Until we meet again.

  I love you,

  Callon

  I couldn’t contain the racking sobs tearing free, or the uncontrollable shaking of my entire body as I surrendered to the proof I held in my hands. He was gone. Someone figured out a way to best him. As the pain of his loss ran down my face and stole my breath, my now-familiar inebriator, rage, slid into the gaps and empty spaces, filling me with its numbing blackness. It whispered its vow ever so softly: We will avenge him. Yes. Yes, we will.

  The vibrating of my phone in my pocket pulled me from the beautiful dance of death I was planning for all those involved in this plot. Wiping my eyes, I stood and pulled it from my pocket, seeing Jeremiel’s name on the screen. “Jer,” I answered, my voice wiped clear of all emotion.

  “Amara? Are you well?”

  “I’m fine.” Looking at the phone’s time, I ascertained the hour in the U.S. Knowing the publishing house would be empty now, I decided there was no time like the present to meet with him. “Meet me in Seattle. At my business.”

  “Where are you? I can come to you.”

  “I said I’ll meet you in Seattle, Jer. I’ll be there in less than an hour. I have some things to wrap up.”

  “Ok. But if you just tell me where-”

  “Stop. We need to talk, but my whereabouts at this time are of no concern to you. Let it go. See you in an hour and this time, come alone.” I disconnected the call, tossing the phone onto the plush comforter. Yes, I was blunt, but he did have some explaining to do. Plus, I wouldn’t discount what Callon wrote in his letter: Trust no one. That was pretty all-encompassing and I planned on following his advice. I needed the extra time only for the purpose of returning the damn rental car. Now I knew where this place was and what it looked like, I wouldn’t have to utilize that option again, I could just pop in and out of here directly, if I so chose.

  Maybe he w
as trying to be nice and make our meeting convenient for me. But I had no idea who he would tell, or bring with him, regardless of my request. The last time I met with him, Joe and Metatron tagged along and it did not turn out well.

  I didn’t even know this place existed, and I wondered how many other properties Callon owned; and if they were unknown to the other Timeless. It would be prudent to keep my list of properties secret. Times were going to get difficult and I would need places to go to allow myself privacy and safety to regroup and plan.

  I folded the letter and placed it back in the dresser where I found it. Part of me longed to take it with me, keep it close, if for nothing else than to be allowed the luxury of holding it and the feeling of being near him through the pages. But I didn’t want to risk anyone finding it. I felt the other Timeless underestimated me, they assumed removing Callon would enable them to conduct their plan with minimal kick-back. He never would have allowed it and he would have burned the factions to dust had they taken me, and they knew it.

  Their thinking was faulty, however. They didn’t know yet the ends I would go to in my quest for vengeance. I still had yet to prove myself , only touting empty threats and spewing venom. It was time they got a little taste of the ‘weak link’.

  I returned the rental car and sat waiting in my lonely Seattle office. There was even enough time to swing by my favorite coffee shop. Finishing the last slug of the powerful brew, I sorted and scanned emails and forwarded manuscripts to Lynn for consideration.

  Hearing a subtle knock, I looked up to see Jeremiel leaning into my office, palming two to-go cups in one hand. “May I come in? I brought coffee.”

  I smiled at him. I was a bitch on the phone, and although I was still suspicious, it was hard to not feel at ease with this archangel. His smile was genuine, and I really wanted to believe he wouldn’t do anything malicious. “You’re early, and you brought coffee. Therefore, you can’t be all bad,” I joked, shaking my empty cup at him before tossing it in the trash. “Come on in, sit down.”

 

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