‘Olivia!’
‘Coming.’ Or I would have been if Crow hadn’t interrupted me.
I bent down to retrieve my shoes and as I straightened up again, I caught sight of my reflection. Who was the woman in the mirror? It didn’t look like me. She looked wild, desperate, and wanton. The Olivia Parr I was more familiar with never looked like that.
That woman couldn’t possibly be me.
Could it?
Crow had opened the front door and stood in the frame, the sun shining through the red of his aura, a silhouette surrounded by a crimson halo. If it wasn’t for the aura, Crow would be much more my type than a slender, slightly effeminate, cravat-wearing conman. The fact that Rochdale affected me the way he did, strongly suggested he had used drugs or other nefarious methods. Crow was right – I really did need to know.
‘Let’s go,’ I commanded, snatching my keys off the little hall table and pushing him over the threshold and onto the path. ‘You managed to persuade someone to take my blood, then?’
‘The man owes me a favour.’
‘Oh?’
Silence.
‘You’re not going to tell me, are you?’ I said.
‘There’s no point, it’s not relevant.’
‘That’s rich. You practically move into my house, take over my life, yet refuse to tell me anything about yourself.’
‘What do you want to know?’
I hesitated. What did I want to know? Did I even care?
Not really, and I’d no idea why I’d mentioned it. To make conversation, I suppose. And to keep my thoughts away from what I wanted Rochdale to do to me. Funny, but I hadn’t considered doing anything to him. I had no desire to stroke his chest, or run my hands down his back, or to cup his buttocks as he slid inside me. All I wanted was for him to quench this insatiable desire he’d lit in me, and I didn’t really care how he did it, or whether he achieved his own pleasure. All I was interested in was mine.
‘I took a bullet for him,’ Crow said, jolting me out of my thoughts.
‘What?’
‘You asked.’
‘I thought you weren’t going to tell me.’
‘I changed my mind.’ Crow kept his eyes on the road, a small clenching movement of his jaw betraying his tension.
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.’
‘The doctor’s name is Ahmed Rashid. He used to be with the Red Cross. He’s a good man.’
‘What have you told him?’
‘The truth. Most of it.’
The rest of the journey passed in silence, and we didn’t speak again until Crow pulled into the car park of a small private clinic and killed the engine.
‘This won’t take long. He only needs a few CCs,’ he said.
‘And afterwards?’
‘I take you back to your place and we try to get some sleep. From what I’ve seen, Rochdale is a night-owl. If he’s going to come, it’ll be tonight.’
Yes, please...
A damp tingle between my legs – it didn’t take much to fan the flame – had my pulse leaping at the thought.
The drug, if indeed it was a drug, had been in my system for close to eighteen hours now. When was it going to wear off?
I consoled myself with the knowledge that if it was still affecting me so strongly, then it must still be in my bloodstream, and we would have conclusive proof.
‘If Rochdale doesn’t show up tonight, I want you gone tomorrow,’ I said.
Crow opened his mouth, then closed it again.
‘It might be days, weeks, before he turns up at my house again,’ I persisted, hammering my point home. ‘He mightn’t ever turn up again. I’m not having you move in with me. You’ve got tonight, and that’s it.’
‘Okay.’
I’d expected more of a fight, and I narrowed my eyes, waiting for it; but he said nothing further.
***
‘How long before we get the results?’ Crow asked after Dr Rashid had syphoned off a vial or two.
‘Three days. Maybe less,’ the doctor replied.
‘Good. Thank you, Ahmed. You’ll call me?’
‘Of course. Take care, my friend.’
The two men clasped arms and patted backs while I kept my attention on the floor.
‘Are you always so rude?’ Crow asked me, when we returned to the car.
‘Not always. Mostly.’
‘There’s no need for it.’
‘You don’t know me. Keep your judgements and opinions to yourself.’
He sighed. ‘Is it because you can see auras? Does it bother you that much?’
‘None of your business.’
‘Okay, have it your way, but you could at least have been a little more civil. He was doing you a favour.’
‘Doing you a favour, you mean,’ I retorted.
He narrowed his eyes. ‘All right, he was doing me a favour, but you’ll also benefit.’
Yes, I hoped I would. And I was appreciative of the help Crow was giving me, even if it was only because of his sister.
That hadn’t been the reason I hadn’t felt able to interact with the doctor.
His aura was grey and faded.
Doctor Rashid was dying.
How could I possibly tell Crow that?
Chapter 35
Olivia
We went back to my house, primarily because there was nowhere else to go. I had work to do, but wasn’t in the mood or the right state of mind to do it, so after Crow had done his usual prowling around, starting with the upstairs and working his way down, checking for God knows what and not finding it, I retreated to my bedroom for some peace and quiet. I had no idea what Crow was going to do on his own, and I didn’t care anyway. I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts and my body.
I fell asleep pleasuring myself.
When I woke, the sky was darkening and my hunger stirred. This emptiness of mine wasn’t hunger for food, but hunger for sex.
Clearly, the drug was still active. Unless there was no drug and the sodding man really had hypnotised me. Either way, my thoughts were lustful, my body restless. I was like a cat in heat, wanting to rub myself sensuously against something while yowling for a mate.
But not just any man would do. There was only one I was interested in, and it wasn’t the one I could hear pottering around downstairs.
Mood broken, I stomped into the kitchen. Crow seemed to have requisitioned it. He was stirring a pot of red-coloured sauce, and the aroma of herbs and garlic wafted in the air.
‘Spaghetti and meatballs,’ he announced.
I grunted and shrugged. He could cook whatever he liked – I wasn’t going to eat any of it. What I wanted was Rochdale. But that was swiftly becoming old news, and I was fed up with myself for constantly thinking about him. A love-struck teenager with rampaging hormones had nothing on me. I’d assumed that this stage of life had more or less passed me by. I was wrong, it seemed. Not cancelled or by-passed, just rescheduled. Lucky me.
‘Eat,’ Crow commanded.
Once again, he was feeding me. That was another thing which was becoming monotonous. Couldn’t the man take the hint and leave?
‘Eat,’ he repeated, when I made no move to sit down.
I shook my head. I’d no appetite for food.
‘You’re getting thin,’ was his next comment.
What if I was? It was no business of his.
‘You’re starting to look like Meadow,’ he said. The concern in Crow’s eyes was commendable, even if it was unwarranted and unwanted.
‘At least I haven’t given all my money away,’ I retorted.
He flinched, and for a moment I felt mean.
‘Are you sure about that?’ he asked.
I wasn’t. There were gaps in my memory where anything could have happened, and anything might have.
I didn’t answer him. Instead, I left him to his supper, and went back to my room to lie awake for hours, restless and unsatiated.
But Roch
dale didn’t come that night, and by daybreak I was in a sour mood.
‘Get out,’ I ordered.
Crow was awake and fully dressed. He stood in front of the lightening window, gazing out at the newborn morning. ‘No.’
‘I’ll call the police.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Because you’re my only link to—’
‘—Meadow. Yeah, I know. Look, I’ll call you if either of them shows up,’ I offered.
‘You already did that. That’s why I’m here.’
‘And now I want you to leave.’
‘How about a compromise?’ He moved away from the window and turned to face me.
I crossed my arms. ‘Go on.’
‘Father Andrew wants to meet you. If you come with me, I’ll leave. I promise.’
‘When?’
‘Today.’
‘Why?’
‘He didn’t say why, not exactly. But I’m grasping at straws here. Please?’
‘Okay.’ I wasn’t happy about it, but I’d do it, if it meant I’d get my house back and this annoying man out of my life.
It was far too early to go yet, so I killed time by reasserting my authority over my kitchen, like a dog scent-marking its territory. As far as I could tell, Crow had put everything back where he’d found it and the whole place was neat and tidy. I didn’t care. I felt violated, regardless of how clean it looked. A stranger had been in my kitchen and I worked diligently to erase every trace of him, from the faint lingering aroma of his cooking to his imagined fingerprints on the door of the fridge.
No wonder Rochdale had failed to come anywhere near me – he must have known Crow was here. So, I’d go with Crow to see a priest, even though the thought of it filled me with unease, just to get him off my back. Then I’d sit and wait for Rochdale. He was certain to come to me sooner or later; I could feel it, sense it.
I could also feel the church when it loomed into view. A sodding great lump of stone sitting in the middle of a graveyard like a spider at the centre of its web. The menace it exuded slipped into my soul, weighing it down.
‘I’ll wait here,’ I offered, gesturing to a convenient bench near to the lych gate.
‘Father Andrew is inside,’ Crow pointed out.
‘If he wants to see me that badly, I’m sure he’ll come out.’
‘Why won’t you come inside?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t believe in God,’ I said.
‘Neither do I, but it doesn’t stop me from going into a church.’
‘It should. You’re nothing but a hypocrite.’
‘Good morning,’ a strange male voice said. ‘You must be Olivia. Crow has told me all about you.’
A man in a cassock stood underneath the lych gate canopy, smiling. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. I swiftly looked down at my feet, but I’d seen enough of him to gain the impression of crow-black garments and pale, shimmering aura. No single colour dominated, unless white could be called a colour. It was more like silver than white, if I was being pedantic, and I didn’t care for it. The man was too holy for his own good.
‘Won’t you come in?’ he asked, stretching out a hand towards the church.
A shudder rippled through me as the sun glinted off a cross on his chest. ‘No, thanks, I’m fine where I am.’
‘I don’t think you are,’ he replied, and I risked a quick glance at his face. He wasn’t smiling. ‘You need to come inside.’
‘No, I don’t.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Crow looking from me to the priest and back again. ‘Maybe we should come back another time?’ he suggested.
‘What good would that do?’ the annoying man retorted. “Crow” would be a better name for this priest than for James Robinson; with his black flappy garments and beady eyes, he reminded me of a bird of prey. No, a carrion eater. He watched me too closely and too avidly for my liking, as if he expected me to suddenly drop dead, leaving the way clear to peck out my eyeballs and eat my intestines. I shuddered again. The man gave me the creeps, and there was no way I was entering that church with him. God knows what might happen in there.
I shook my head. God, huh. No such thing, no such being. And that was another reason I didn’t want to enter the building. I didn’t believe, so what was the point? Whatever the priest had to say, could be said out here.
‘I’m going home,’ I stated, getting to my feet. ‘This is a waste of time.’
‘If you go now, you’ll be lost for good,’ the priest said.
What on earth was the stupid man on about? ‘Are you coming with me, or do I have to get a bus?’ I demanded, glaring at Crow.
‘Stop her,’ the Father said.
‘I can’t...’ Crow shifted from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable.
‘You must, if you want to save her.’
‘Oh, fuck,’ I heard him mutter as I turned to walk away from this nonsense.
He came at me from behind, his body careening into mine and sending me to the pavement. I grunted as the air was driven out of my lungs as I hit the ground. Crow’s arms were around me, preventing me from doing some serious damage to my face on the concrete, cushioning my fall. The impact must have hurt him, but if it did, I couldn’t tell.
Winded and stunned, I wasn’t capable of putting up much of a fight. He wrestled my leaden, gasping body through the gate and onto the path leading to the porch with the solid wooden door beyond.
When the priest put his hand on the latch and the door swung open, I began to struggle, the air finally filling my lungs, giving me strength.
Not enough, and too late.
I was inside before I had time to gather myself, the building enveloping me, swallowing me whole like some great beast. Horror washed through my veins, a cold, sickening dread, and I began to fight in earnest. Crow was behind me, his arms a solid cage around my waist, pinning my own arms to my sides, and my toes barely touched the floor as he hauled me, twisting and writhing, deeper into the bowels of the church.
‘Put me down. Now!’ I cried.
His grip tightened and I struggled harder.
‘Hold her,’ the fucking priest commanded.
‘I’m trying,’ Crow panted.
I wasn’t going to make this easy for the bastard. What the hell did he think he was doing, assaulting me, then kidnapping me? I’d have him arrested for this. ‘Let me go, you fucker. I’m warning you—’
‘I don’t want to hurt her,’ Crow said. He came to a halt, grunting as my heels drummed against his shins, my legs lashing out in all directions. The kicks hurt me, so they must have hurt him too, and every so often I threw my head back, aiming for his nose, his chin, anything to cause him pain and make him stop.
‘You might have to; she’s been touched by the devil,’ the man of God said.
The priest was mad, totally barking mad.
‘Don’t be absurd,’ I snarled. Touched by the devil, indeed. The guy was clearly not taking his meds.
‘What do we do now?’ Crow asked. He was weakening, I could tell; the effort of trying to prevent me from doing him some serious damage was taking its toll. His breathing sounded harsh and heavy in my ears.
‘Do you want to save her?’ the madman demanded. ‘It might be too late for Meadow, but it’s not for this one.’
Crow drew in a sharp breath.
‘You’re insane,’ I yelled. ‘No wonder the Church is losing customers when you’re selling superstition.’
‘I take it you don’t believe?’ His tone was almost conversational, as though we were about to sit down together and share a pot of tea and a plate of custard creams. It made my blood run cold. What the hell was he going to do to me?
I screamed, shrill and loud. Crow clamped his hand over my mouth, stifling the noise, and I tried to bite him, but couldn’t get any purchase on his skin.
‘Shush,’ he said.
‘You’re not a believer?’ the priest asked again.
I shook
my head wildly, thrashing from side to side.
‘You will be, by the end of today.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Crow sounded worried.
‘Baptise her.’
Crow removed his hand from my mouth. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Deadly.’
‘But—’
‘What harm can it do?’ the priest said, and as Crow relaxed slightly, I slammed my heel into his shin so hard I yelped. Crow gripped me tighter and I grunted.
‘You haven’t been baptised, have you?’ the priest asked me.
‘No idea,’ I snarled.
‘She probably hasn’t,’ he said to Crow, over my shoulder. ‘That might explain why Rochdale found it so easy; God hasn’t put his hand on her.’
‘Neither are you going to. Get off me!’ I shouted.
Crow ignored me. ‘Where do you want her?’
The priest jerked his head toward the font. It was only a few feet away, but I fought like the very devil not to be dragged any closer.
My struggling didn’t work.
Crow manhandled me nearer and stopped. Not close enough for me to kick the bloody thing over, though. It might be disrespectful and sacrilegious, but this pair weren’t exactly respecting me, either. Kidnap and assault weren’t particularly endearing traits.
Surely, I should have some say in whether I was baptised or not? What this mad priest was about to do was nothing short of a violation, and I was having none of it.
‘Look,’ I reasoned. ‘Just let me go and we’ll say no more about it.’ I was lying – I intended to say plenty, but not until I was as far away from this place as I could get. But for now, if it helped my cause, I was willing to keep my mouth shut and pretend to be reasonable.
‘Hold her still,’ the man in the flowing black robes said, a manic expression on his face. ‘The sooner we get this done, the better. I warn you, she’s not going to like it.’
‘Help! Help me!’ I screamed, praying that someone, anyone would hear. ‘Help!’
Crow snapped a steel hand across my mouth again and squeezed hard, forcing the insides of my cheeks against my teeth until I tasted blood.
‘Nuh, urg, nu, nu.’ Whatever this was, I wanted no part of their sick games. I wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and hide under the covers. Whoever said monsters weren’t real hadn’t met this pair.
The Colour of Death Page 17