by Poppet
But now, I feel inside me, the emotions of a man that she has managed to awaken. It's foreign and uncomfortable. I cannot let Alpha know she's made me human. He will surely smite her then for interfering. She's made me fall in more ways than one. Except everything happens just as God planned it. There are no accidents. Those who are meant to be saved, are. Those who are meant to fall, do. This is an experience I'm not going to question. I'm going to trust it because I know it comes from Him.
Now when I tell her I love her, it's Victor the man, Vengeance the man, who says it. It's both of us who feel it. I cannot bear the feeling. It's like an acid which burns deep inside, causing one's insides to bubble and boil, desperate to spill out, but they can't. The skin contains this feeling and the only way to exorcise it is by connecting with her physically. She has managed something miraculous, which again is proof, she is my angel. She is my companion. This choice was not coincidence, it was preordained.
And I'm feeling it again. It's burning a hole right through my core. Akin to electric shock therapy, it comes without warning, jarring me, making me tremble. Slipping in behind her, pulling her against my body, she mumbles as she turns, nestling her hips against mine unconsciously. Unable to deny myself, I nudge her right knee up with my own, returning to what now I can call home. Home is comforting, welcoming, where you belong, where you are loved.
She wakes, twisting her head slightly to look over her shoulder at me, "You are worse than me."
"Shhh, just feel."
Her head tilts back, hair falling against my shoulder as she moves with me, giving little gasps which instead of repulsing me, now give me a sense of satisfaction. Unable to contain this welling inside myself, I tense with release, as she stops breathing, frozen, reaching back and gripping my hand so tightly; her nails cutting into my wrist.
"He's here."
Her voice sounds strangled. Her eyes are staring up and I follow her line of sight. I'd forgotten about that mirror. Fucking bastard. Peter stands at the end of the passage between the cabins, dressed as me.
Choosing to ignore it, I tell her, "He can't be here."
"He is." It's panicked and insistent. Barely audible, her entire body is tense, it's strangling the part of me inside her.
"Relax angel, I'll go and look."
Forcing her body off my own, I turn to get out of bed when she clings to my neck, whispering, "He's an angel. He can reach me anywhere."
"Not on my fucking boat he can't."
Slipping my board shorts on silently, holding to the shadows like a stealth cloak, I allow fermenting anger to surge power back into my lethargic limbs. Pausing, keeping my breathing shallow and silent, I watch the shadows intently. He's gone. What the fuck is he playing at?
I should have closed the cabin door. Hunting the shadows with every instinct I own, I follow my hunches at every junction. Leading me to the deck, where I find him nursing a beer, sprawled lazily in the Jacuzzi. Slipping behind him, I catch his throat with two fingers, pressing deeply on either side as I whisper into his ear with the anger I'm trying to control. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Keeping my voice low so that she cannot overhear. Keeping my knuckle pressed into the vertebrae of his neck, he has two choices, risk paralysis and try to throw me, or to sit quietly and explain himself.
"Who is weak, and I do not feel his weakness? Who is made to stumble and fall and have his faith hurt? 2 Corinthians 11:29."
How dare he judge me and quote Father's words to me. "I have not fallen short one bit or proved myself at all inferior to those superlative apostles. 2 Corinthians 12:11."
"Exercise foresight and be on the watch to look after one another, to see that no one falls back from and fails to secure God's grace. Hebrews 12:15" Turning to me unafraid he hisses softly, "The mouth of a loose woman is a deep pit. Proverbs 22:14."
Insane rage pumps through me as I squeeze the life out of him. Watching his face change from calm to purple. Struggling I thrust him away, releasing his throat. "Peter, you are the rock. You are stable. I appreciate your concern, but do not make the mistake of judging me."
Wheezing, coughing quietly, he slides back to the side of the Jacuzzi where I crouch. "You've lost it V. She's changed you, instead of you changing her. Like many men who fell before you, you cannot see how insidious her poison is. She's cunning like the snake. She's greedy, like the snake. It's my duty to protect you, or give you over to God for punishment and correction."
"You are wrong. Everything is in place now, and I won't let you fuck it up when I'm this close."
"You can fool yourself but you can't fool God. He wants to see you."
"I'll see him when we get back."
"Yes you will, whether you want to or not. It's been set."
"How long have you known about this?"
"Long enough. You forget how Father sees everything. You can't hide V. You can't hide your weakness."
Growling into his ear as I grip his impudent throat again in rage, "A flame of sword was set in the Garden of Eden. I am that sword. Cross me again and I shall cut out the rotten fruit from the tree."
"God would strike you down first. You have fallen from grace."
His words hit home. How can Father know what I feel already? I've only just experienced it myself. "Don't let Vengeance appear on this trip again. We have the hypnosis and behavioural therapy in place now. Don't fuck up weeks of hard work because your fragile ego has the desire to usurp me."
He smiles, lifting his beer and drinking, ignoring my threat to his life with fingers on pressure points.
Chapter 46
Living photography is positive in its approach,
it sings a song of life – not death.
~Berenice Abbott
*I have not seen Victor in over ten years. His lack of commitment to finding the impostor in Shauna's apartment has brought me to this point. I've tracked the man, and have ordered his termination. Peter has volunteered, still desperate to prove himself.
Together we walk to where she sits huddled with him. Two-timing little slut. I will speak only once. Once I have spoken, the order will be absolute. The voice is the power to create and destroy.*
***
I can't believe it takes ten minutes to get married. All you need is a lawyer and your passport or I.D. Giggling I turn to him, disbelief still circling in confusion through the maze of my emotions, "I'm your wife."
Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he snuggles me back against his side where we sit drinking sparkling grape juice instead of champagne, junior Victor's choice; staring out at the amazing view from Signal Hill. It's a perfect day. My life has come full circle, from utter hell, to oblivious perfection. Life just does not get any better than this.
"Mrs Victor Ward. Until death do us part."
Leaning in, I inhale his uniquely clean scent that still reminds me of marjoram. "I love you. I'm going to treasure you until I'm old and cranky," I whisper, watching his lips smile.
He has such a beautiful smile. Time has flown, he should open a theme park, because he's every trip rolled into one and I think I'm still trying to catch my breath.
A deep voice speaks from behind us. "Step away from her."
Twisting I stare at a tall heavy-set gentleman, dressed impeccably, with snow white thick straight hair. Very Clark Gable. My eyes narrow suspiciously as I notice who's with him. Peter the prick.
Shocking me, Victor unwinds his arm from around me, stands and steps around the bench to the man, turning and dropping to one knee, taking the man's hand and kissing it. "Father."
The whole time Peter was so close, it was like they were a gay couple. Oh God, they can't be! Can they?
***
I would recognise that voice anywhere. It's as deeply ingrained into me as my veins are that pump my blood. It's been ten long years since I last saw Him. I feel the barrel pressing into my back and don't want to alarm Shauna or the baby.
Stepping, holding my hands where they can see them without being obvious, I walk
around the bench, falling to my knees, bowing my head and respectfully kissing the right hand of Alpha, my father.
"It's you!" he says in shock.
Looking up into his almost black eyes, I smile, "Yes Father, it is I."
"I thought you were an impostor."
"No Father."
He smiles, nodding, and Peter hides his gun back into his waistband. Traitor.
"Father," I announce as I stand again, "This is Shauna, my angel. My wife … My pregnant wife."
She smiles nervously, it's still radiant. Her pale skin shows off the fresh blush from the breeze on her cheeks. Her lips are deeply damask rose. They are the same shade of her most intimate kiss. She's beautiful when she doesn't wear make-up, which she hasn't since being chastised. Blue eyes sparkling happily, framed with such dark brown eyelashes, startled she looks at me for her lead. Father will approve of her instinctive deference to me.
Motioning for her to join me, she stands, one hand subconsciously holding her belly which is just beginning to swell. I can see it, because I know how hollow her stomach was before I placed my Spirit inside her. The sun highlights her white skirt, silhouetting her legs for all of us on the other side of her.
"Very nice," Father mentions to me quietly.
As she joins my side, I instruct supportively, "We always kiss Father's right hand in greeting. He is the patriarch and deserves respect by all of his family."
He looks down his perfectly straight nose at her, "And you my dear, are family."
She's still eager to please me, and drops down gracefully, her spine dancer erect, her head tilted as if someone is about to capture her in the stillness of a photo. She pauses, pressing her nubile warm lips to Father's dry skin. I watch him squeeze her hand as his other hand covers her head, as if blessing her. Instinctively I scan the perimeter, smiling when I see James at a distance, capturing it all on camera anyway.
He pulls her up, placing a hand on my son inside her, "A grandson I hope?"
She laughs huskily, it's definitely skittish, "We'll have to see what God gives us."
His smile is more of a grimace, his tone stern, "God gives you a son."
She shoots her eyes to me, I reassure her with a wink, holding my hand out to her to extract her from Father's domineering grasp. She takes it, stepping away from him. "It's lovely to meet you."
"It's only right. You have come home."
She laughs again, this time it's light-hearted, "That is such a lovely way to put it."
Her visage is beyond beautiful in this instant. The Spirit I placed in her has animated her body so much, making me proud. Making me feel protective and possessive.
Peter steps forward from father's blind-side "You've been looking for a home, is that correct?"
Shauna slips her arm tightly around my waist, clutching to me, revealing her insecurity around Peter. "Yes."
Father changes his tone, understanding at which level we're still at in this relationship. He should know I have not hidden anything from him. My eyes are his eyes.
"We have one ready for you on the property." Looking to me his eyes convey that argument will not be indulged in, "It is time for this family to be reunited in the same place."
Despite the warning, I hold her tightly against me, ready to do whatever it takes. "Thank you Father for your generosity, but we like it here. We'd like the baby to be born here. Maybe after then, we can reconsider?"
His eyes sharpen, flicking to Shauna, "What do you think my child?"
"I do whatever Victor thinks is best."
His smile is genuine, "You have lovely earrings Shauna. Is that an A in your left ear?"
"Yes it is."
"That's my initial. Do you always do what Victor suggests?"
Looking up at me, beaming, her voice floats in euphoria, "I trust him. He's always right anyway."
Father's eyes are intense, seeing straight through me, "Victor it has been too long. An old man gets lonely when his son is gone from his Heaven. Stay as long as Seth requires you, then be kind, and bring my grandson home?"
Inclining my head, I lower my eyes in servitude, "Of course Father."
He holds a hand out to Shauna again, "Kiss me good-bye, my new daughter."
I can sense her reluctance, her hand hesitates before releasing me. She moves and stands on tiptoes, kissing his cheek. Holding my breath I pray he won't shoot her in the head. Or kick my child out of her body. I am so tense, I feel like a crossbow ready to fire.
Somehow she knows, and she slips down and kisses his hand again, before standing, giving his hand a squeeze, "I am so blessed to be with your son. And I'm so happy I've met you."
I watch as he twists her hand to stare at the inside of her wrist. I know him intimately. I know every nuance he owns that suggests what he thinks and feels. The way his shoulders move just a centimetre down in relaxation, shows me I have done well. He's letting me have the benefit of the doubt this time. Trusting me enough to become the head of my home, without his presence.
He inclines his head at Shauna as he orders me, "Victor, walk with me."
I shoot Peter the look of death warning. If he does anything while my back is turned, I'll kill him. He set this up, I know he did. He knew Father didn't recognise me from the footage, and he tried to have me murdered today. I'm just lucky I'm as sharp as I am. He smiles at me, deliberately taking a step toward Shauna. Why is James here? I didn't ask him to be here. Is this my day to die? Casually I scan in surveillance beyond the trees that line the parking lot. My disciples are all present.
"Yes Father?" I finally ask as he strolls toward his black vehicle. How does he manage to fly that thing around the world? It's completely indestructible.
"What are you planning?"
"Father I recall with great fondness my lessons in the snow. I will do what is right and good in Your eyes. I will not fail you. She's still in therapy. I'm still retraining her. I don't want any distractions more than necessary."
"I see."
I look into his eyes after an excruciating silence.
"You know the penalty. I'm watching you."
"We have succeeded Alpha. She is the one who turned. My Spirit lives in her now."
"And when her body predictably rejects it into this world? What will save her then?"
"My second son."
"And which one will you sacrifice?"
I can't answer that. I'm already attached to my flesh inside her.
"If I see you hesitate again, you'll both die."
"Yes Father."
"You have three years to return. I will give you no more than that."
Nodding, I keep my eyes on his feet.
Leaning in he growls into my ear, "And the next time I have to find out the truth from your high priest, I'll cut out your eyes with your own sword."
***
I'm relieved when he returns to sit with me and they all seem to vanish as suddenly as they appeared. He hugs me so tightly, worried eyes glisten as he stares into mine.
"You and your father don't get on well do you?"
"I am his son. I must be true and loyal to him. I am his first born. With that comes a lot of responsibility."
I suppose it would considering how loaded they are financially. I guess he had to come and check out the gold-digger himself. Peter probably told him I got deliberately pregnant. Oh I loathe that man. Staring out from our high vantage point over the fairest Cape. Sitting so close to the tip of Africa, the wind gusts the hair off my face.
The wind!
I did not bow. I did not break. I became the wind. I am soaring free, risen above where life hurts me. Nothing can catch the wind. Nothing can hold it, hurt it, break it.
Wind is so powerful, but it is elusive. Closing my eyes, I relish it. This is my spirit now. This is my mantra. Vengeance may have tattooed me with wings. And now I've learned to fly.
A lady and her son walk past us and I call out spontaneously, "Excuse me!"
She turns to me and I give her my happy s
mile. I feel like a new star has just been born inside me. I cannot describe how light and bright I feel.
"Would you mind taking our photograph?"
She smiles, "With pleasure."
I hold out my phone to her. Showing her where to click. Leaning in, our arms about each other, we are captured together for the first time.
THE END
Alternate Ending Follows …
Chapter 47
Alternate Ending
There is severe discipline for him who forsakes God's way;
and he who hates reproof will die
~Proverbs 15:10
*I have not seen Victor in over ten years. His lack of commitment to finding the impostor in Shauna's apartment has brought me to this point. I've tracked the man, and have ordered his termination. Peter has volunteered, still desperate to prove himself.
Together we walk to where she sits huddled with him. Two-timing little slut. I will speak only once. Once I have spoken, the order will be absolute. The voice is the power to create and destroy.*
I can't believe it takes ten minutes to get married. All you need is a lawyer and your passport or I.D. Giggling I turn to him, disbelief still circling in confusion through the maze of my emotions, "I'm your wife."
Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he snuggles me back against his side where we sit drinking sparkling grape juice instead of champagne, junior Victor's choice; staring out at the amazing view from Signal Hill. It's a perfect day. My life has come full circle, from utter hell, to oblivious perfection. Life just does not get any better than this.
Time has flown, he should open a theme park, because he's every trip rolled into one and I think I'm still trying to catch my breath.