Elixxir (The Brethren Series)

by Remiel, Deena

  “Whoa, Richie! You’re, uh, running a bit too fast for me here.” She scooted off the couch. “I think I’ll call it a night.” She made it halfway to the door before he tackled her from behind. They fell together to the floor and he quickly flipped her over so they were facing each other. She struggled to get out from under him, but he secured her legs within his and held her wrists tightly in his grip.

  “What the hell do you mean, leaving me here with a hard-on? I bought you an expensive dinner, two in fact, counting last night. I talked nice to you. I even let you come to my place. What did you think I would say? ‘Toodle-loo! See you soon!’ You owe me, Callie,” he whispered. “You owe me good. So stop fighting and reciprocate a little here.” He pressed down and viciously nuzzled her neck, nipping and licking, while she screamed.

  “Stop! Richie, stop! Let me go! I’m not ready for this! Get off of me! No!” She shrieked, and then whispered vehemently, “Don’t make me hurt you. I can hurt you.”

  “Ooh, she likes it rough. Okay then, bruiser, let’s make it rough.”

  He moved ever so slightly to adjust himself. That was all she needed to knee him in the balls, break the hold on her arms, and whack him hard on his ears. As he thrashed about in pain on the floor, she scrambled to the front door. Grabbing at her purse and shoes, she ran to the car as if hell were nipping at her heels. Thankfully, she had left the door unlocked and was able to make a speedy exit. It would take her twenty minutes to get home from his house. Twenty excruciating minutes of hellish memories forced their way to the front of her mind, blending with the evening’s debacle.

  “No, I won’t let you in again! I won’t!” Callie shouted to her nightmares. But when Richie said she owed him, it tore a hole in her well-woven fabric of protection and let the horrors of her past slither through to taunt and terrorize her.

  She drove on and minded the road, but didn’t see it at the same time. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she also saw her pretend brother’s face through the windshield taunting her that she owed him for coming and upsetting his perfect family structure. She heard him say, clear as the day he’d spoken it, she’d better do whatever he wanted and not tell anyone or he’d make her life a living hell. And then she felt the familiar pressure of this sixteen-year-old fake brother on top of her, forcing himself on her and in her, while her thirteen-year-old body cried and died over and over again.

  “You fucking son-of-a-bitch asshole!” She banged her hand against the steering wheel. Had she screamed at Richie the shmuck, or Dennis the rapist-pseudo-brother she’d inherited with the supposedly “good” family courtesy of Mr. Watkins? Both, and every God-damned son-of-a-bitch male on this earth!

  Making it home by the grace of God, she locked her front door and wedged a chair under the doorknob. She threw her purse on the floor and ran to the bathroom where she proceeded to throw up the contents of her dinner, and then some. After scrubbing herself raw under the scorching curtain of water, she dressed for bed, made a full pot of tea, and snuggled deep down into her couch.

  “Something’s gotta change, Callie-girl. You’re headed down a dangerous path and there’s no denying it. You can’t keep this up anymore. No more men. That’s it. They’re nothin’ but trouble anyway. They can’t be trusted, they’re violent, and they leave you without a second thought.”

  Well, there had been one man who treated her like gold in her life: her father. Her father who’d been brutally murdered twenty years ago over a stupid trinket that supposedly held some stupid liquid. What is it? Oh yeah, the Elixxir of Life. That damned flask! God, how she wished he and her mother were still alive. Her life would have turned out so different from what it currently was—a mess.

  Suddenly, a dangerous idea came to her. Dare she even acknowledge it? Should she even try it? How would it feel rolling around her mouth, over her tongue, across her lips? It’d been so long since she’d heard her real name aloud.

  “Ariana,” she whispered, and quickly covered her mouth with her hands.

  ***

  I am not opening my eyes yet. If I don’t open them, then I don’t have to face the anniversary of the worst day in my life. Callie turned over in her bed and groaned. “Oh my God! What the hell?” she yelled. Every muscle in her body ached and her neck and wrists were sore. And then she remembered last night. Richie. If he ever shows his face near the shop…. What? What would she do? She’d pound his ass into the pavement. But for now, she’d settle for posting a flyer on his supermarket bulletin board extolling his virtues as a caveman. She’d work on that later.

  She rolled over again. How would she get through today? She hated September 21. Her parents had been murdered that day, and she couldn’t share that information with anyone she considered even an acquaintance. Not a soul could know the real her, or rather, who she had been twenty years ago. Was there any trace of Ariana left inside her? She had no fucking clue. Damn! A day off afforded her no distraction.

  Begrudgingly, she got out of bed and put on some sweatpants and a T-shirt. In the bathroom, she stared at herself long and hard while brushing her teeth. Puffy eyes spoke volumes in the mirror. Misery had come to claim her company, but she needed to connect with someone much more positive. Serena had gone to work already. Callie officially had no one right now, and that sucked.

  When she sat down in front of her computer, she noticed it’d been left on, and simply clicked on Internet Explorer. Twitter and Facebook were off limits, as were any other sites that would allow her to connect with other people. Despite how much time had passed, she thought she could still be in danger. As long as the murderers were still at large, she couldn’t risk being identified. But there’s no harm in surfing the ’net. Her thoughts had been getting her in a heap of trouble lately, so she gave herself a moment to rethink and reflect.

  Nope, no reason not to surf. It’s been twenty years. I wonder what Uncle Eddie has done with the shop. I wonder if he’s got a website for it. Now these were truly dangerous thoughts. Don’t go there. But who would know if I was simply surfing and came across a website that just happened to be Daddy’s old curiosity shop? Nobody would know that I had been there.

  As she talked herself into doing a search, a prickly sensation undulated all over her arms. She was scared and anxious, but mostly curious. Would she find anything? She typed “Kupi and Murati Curiosity Shop” in the search box and closed her eyes, afraid she might find no results. As she peeked through fingers that had involuntarily covered her eyes, she found what she’d been looking for. First on the search list was “Murati Curiosity Shop.”

  “So Uncle Eddie took off our last name,” she murmured, a bit miffed. He could have left Kupi as part of the store name to honor his dead partner. That would have been nice. Well, do I enter the site or not? What to do? What to do? Oh, all right! I’ll do it!

  She clicked on the link and soon looked into the glowing eyes of a glass skull. Written underneath the skull was Murati’s Curiosity Shop. When she clicked on the skull, it opened to the rest of the website. She meandered through the pages, finding all sorts of oddities and legitimate artifacts from all over the world. She found the owner bio page and saw how well Uncle Eddie looked. Time had been kind. And then she saw the “Contact Us” button.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” she said aloud, just to be sure she heard herself. “Don’t you dare click on that button. Do you hear me?” Well, most parts heard her, but not the part that held the mouse. Her finger rebelled and clicked. A live-chat window opened on the screen. “Holy Jesus!” Callie closed out of Internet Explorer and shut down the computer. “What have I done? Man, I’m such a pain in my ass today!” She decided it was not a good day for her to be up and about, so she went back to bed and pulled the covers over her head. She’d stay there until tomorrow eventually came.

  ***

  Tahiti

  “Sir, we have news.”

  “Yes, what is it, Jorge?”

  “We got a curious hit on your website, sir. We’ve traced the signal
back to its origin. Double-checked, and with a little research, believe it’s the woman you’ve been looking for. Here are the results, sir.” Jorge approached the bamboo desk and held out a folded piece of paper.

  “Excellent, excellent! Well, hello, long-lost little girl, now a woman. It took you long enough to surface, didn’t it? Looks like your hide-and-seek game is all but over because I gotcha now! Ha! Jorge, get the helicopter ready. I’ve cut my vacation short. I want to leave within thirty minutes.”

  “Your destination, sir?”

  “Sedona Airport, Arizona. And make sure my limo is ready when we arrive.”

  “Yes sir,” Jorge replied and left quickly.

  He took his gun out of the desk drawer and loaded it. “Oh, my dear Ariana. You may have cheated death once, but you’re not going to be so lucky this time. You’re the last thread, the last piece of a family I’ve long despised. I’ve imagined for so long a world without any Kupis left in it. And now my dream will finally come true! If only I could have gained custody of you twenty years ago, this could have been over with already. Ah, well, what did I expect after being investigated by the FBI? Not exactly the proper father figure, now was I?” He aimed his gun at an imaginary target. “Pow! Right between the eyes, just like your mother! No wait, that’s too fast. Maybe I’ll kill you the way I killed your father. Pow! One in the left lung. Pow! One in the right lung. Pow! One right through the heart. Or better still, maybe I’ll let you decide how you die.”

  Chapter Two

  Kemuel and Raphael laughed up a storm as they entered Serena’s Sikes and Sounds of Sedona Jeep Tour shop. It was too early for customers, but some of the guides had already begun trickling in. Raphael opened the door to her office with a bit of drama and flair.

  “Honey! I’m home!” He topped it off with a big toothy grin. Serena looked up from her desk with a mixture of a smile and a grimace. The smile was for her husband. The grimace was for the cad, Kemuel.

  “Hey!” She jettisoned from her chair and leapt into his awaiting arms. “Did you just get back? How was the Healing Conference? I missed you!” She didn’t give him a chance to respond as she planted a searing kiss on his lips.

  “Ahem! Get a room, you two.”

  She released Raphael from her clutches and stared at his buddy with eyes she hoped bored holes through his lunkhead heart.

  “What? What’d I do? I just came in!”

  “You’ve been gone for a long time, no goodbye, no information about where you were going, nothing. And you have the audacity to walk into my establishment, where Callie works, as though you were only in here yesterday. You are unbelievable, Kemuel.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, well, it couldn’t be helped. When the boss man says jump, you say how high? E.L. needed me back at base, interviewing recruits for the new Warrior to take Seraphiel’s place. You know we’ve been down a Brother for a while now. The Brethren work best in triads—three Protectors, three Saviors, and three Warriors. Plus, I got a new assignment.”

  “You couldn’t call, or let one of the others know, or Callie? For God sakes, Kemuel, where is your sense of responsibility to the woman? Your sense of decency?”

  “The Brethren knew, but no one else could. Jeez, Serena, I was only gone a couple of days!”

  She glared at her husband. “You knew? You are so in the doghouse, dearest. As for you,” she said, turning back to Kemuel. “Are you kidding me? A couple of days? It’s been months!”

  “Aw, man!” he groaned, hitting his palm against his forehead. “I forgot about the freakin’ time differential. Shit, she’s gonna have my balls for breakfast.”

  She shook her head in exasperation. “I wouldn’t worry. She’s so not interested in your balls in any way, shape, or form. Jesus, Kemuel.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to clear the incredulity from her mind. “All right, listen. She doesn’t come in until seven. You better get your ass out of here before she sees you. And if I were you, I’d spend the day working on how you’re going to get back into her good graces. I gotta warn you, though. She’ll probably not even give you the time of day. You don’t know what you’ve done to her. She’s different. Changed. Hardened in a way. Whether she wants you to or not, you’re responsible for fixing her. Do the right thing and explain things to her. Tell her the truth about who you are. I want my best friend back, Kemuel. Whatever it takes.”

  “I’ll do what I can, Serena. Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her.” He gave her a troubled look, shook Raphael’s hand, and left the shop.

  “About that doghouse….” Raphael started.

  “You’re in it until I get home. Then I’m really gonna make you suffer, you very bad angel, you.” She sent him a private message through their telepathic, threaded connection. A promise of wanton pleasure after a bit of slow, seductive torture.

  ***

  Kemuel deemed himself worthy of an ass-kicking. His latest assignment was supposed to be a cakewalk—find the location of the flask containing the Elixxir of Life, take possession of it, and return it back to base for safe-keeping. Well, there’d be no cakewalk now. He’d be lucky to get within a thousand miles of the flask at this point.

  Damn his stupidity! He should have told her he’d be away on business, but it slipped his mind, and he didn’t think she would care anyway, free spirit that she was. It was only a couple of days! But not to her. Jesus, did he ever screw up. She’d never tell him where to find the flask, let alone want to see him at this point. He would have to present a clear, logical argument for his behavior, give her lots of presents, and pour on the charm. He could do that. He was real good at charm.

  ***

  The alarm proved to be no friend come Monday morning. It wouldn’t stop buzzing. Callie picked it up and threw it clear across the room. Before hitting the far wall, it managed to nail a delicate glass figurine, smashing it into a thousand pieces.

  “Well, shit.” She got up to get the dustpan and broom, and swept her mess away. She fell back against her bed and ruffled her hair. “All right, sister, you promised yourself you’d change, so here we are at Day One. Get your act together, put some decent clothes on, and paint a smile on your face. Today is the first day of the rest of your life!” She sat up and smiled a cheesy, fake smile at her reflection in the dresser mirror and got ready for work.

  She saw things in a whole different light by the time she downed her coffee and ate her English muffin. After tossing her plate and mug in the sink, she did a final check of her face and hair in the foyer mirror, opened the door, and slammed straight into a wall of man.

  “Whoa,” said a rich, baritone voice.

  “Oh, my God! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were….” Her next words were frozen on her tongue as she identified the mammoth creature in front of her.

  Kemuel.

  Too stunned to move, she looked straight into his jade-colored eyes, momentarily lost in the memory of how they once made her knees turn to jelly. The memory faded quickly, and she smirked as her knees held her steady and strong. Having regained her composure, she saw a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. Crushed flowers, now.

  “Hello, Callie. I—”

  Before he could say another word, she backed up and slammed the door in his face.

  Leaning against it, she closed her eyes, wishing that she’d simply imagined him, and it was really the guy from the florist down the street. She turned and looked through the peephole. No such luck. Kemuel stood there, all right. What the hell is he doing here? Maybe if I stay in here long enough, he’ll give up and go away. No, be realistic, woman. You’re gonna have to throw him out. Just do it.

  Slowly, she opened the portal to Hell to find him still standing there in all of his six-foot-four, god-like glory, looking shell-shocked. She hadn’t forgotten how perfection had shined down upon him, kissing his head with pure white strands of hair, and blessed him with a muscular build meant to be scaled by her. She also hadn’t forgotten being left high and dry for months on end, either.

&nb
sp; “Callie, I….”

  “Shut up,” she said softly, venomously. “I will say this once and once only, so you’d better listen good. You have some fucking nerve showing up here after all this time with a bouquet of stinkin’ flowers. If I see you anywhere near my place or the shop, I’m gonna call the fucking police and have you fucking arrested for…for…being an asshole! Now, get the hell out of my way. I’ve gotta go to work.” She pushed past him, slammed her front door, and wished her eyes flashed real death rays.

  “But…sweetheart, please, you gotta let me explain!” he called to her, and quickly followed to her car. She noticed and began running. With her door thankfully still unlocked from last night, she threw herself into her seat, locked it immediately, switched on the ignition, and tore out of the parking lot. When she looked in her rearview mirror, a plume of dust gave way to a vision of Kemuel caked in red dirt.

  ***

  “You will not believe who I just left standing in my parking lot!” Callie slammed Serena’s office door closed and pulled the privacy shade down. She turned to face her and continued, saying incredulously, “Kemuel!”

  “Really?”

  “Uh huh, asshole! When the hell did he get back? What does he think? We can just pick up where we left off?” She sat down on a chair, her right knee bobbing up and down frantically.

  “Hmm.”

  “I mean, he’s been gone forever! And he thinks he can waltz right back into my life with some stinkin’ flowers and that will make everything okay? What an idiot, right?” She got up and paced the office.

  “Oh yeah, complete idiot. I’m right there with you, Cal.”