by S S Bazinet
Peggy’s back straightened at once. “But we were innocent! At least I’m sure of that. Why would someone be so cruel?”
“Don’t try to figure that out. Just know I’m going to make sure he never does anything like that again.”
Peggy put an unsteady hand to Arel’s face. “Promise me you won’t let him hurt you, Arel, please.”
“It’s okay. I’m not that helpless person anymore.”
Twenty-Three
COL STIFFENED AS he sat on the bench. It was the only piece of furniture in his little domain. Even though it was a wooden piece, it was very comfortable, almost like the bench had a padded feature built in. Arel had made sure that everything in Col’s environment had a feel-good quality, right down to the last detail.
“He’ll pay for thinking he’s clever.”
No matter how hard Col tried, he couldn’t get rid of the sunshine or the agreeable setting where he resided. He could only use his memories to keep himself on track. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to a time that was sure to nourish his deep hatred and feed his rage. He thought about his lifetime as a serf. That lifetime was forever branded into his memory.
It was a pivotal life, and it had been hard, very hard. At the dawn of each day, he was bent over. His dirty, frozen fingers begged the hard, rocky ground to take an offering of seed. As he planted, he fought the cold, spring winds that tried to steal the rags that clothed his young, bony body. Sometimes, when his bare feet ached with the forever cold, he wished for fresh animal droppings to stand in, to glean a little warmth. His life had always been like that. Laboring from sun up to sun down, he’d been an old man long before he reached his thirtieth birthday. In fact, he never reached his thirtieth, but that was normal for the times.
Maybe Col’s issue was that he was smarter than most of his peers. His father hated him for being so bright because he wasn’t Col’s real father. The lord who owned the land had slept with Col’s mother and impregnated her. Col inherited his father’s brains and looks. Instead of it being something good, it was his curse. He paid a heavy price for his superior intellect and being a prettier model of humanity. His looks made him the different child and resulted in more beatings. Things didn’t change much when he reached adulthood. By that time, he wasn’t pretty anymore. He was stunted from lack of food, missing a few teeth and hardened by the elements and a life that had no future.
His face could have had nobility if nurtured. But it was mean and coarse, a testament to a body that had survived disease and squalor only marginally. But his brain still worked. He noticed things, even tried to figure things out. That was a real no-no for those times. The church had all the answers, and his job was to accept its teaching. Like most, he was a loyal devotee, at first. The idea of heaven charmed his ignorant, unschooled mind. At chance times, he saw his real father and fancied himself worthy of some future heavenly existence.
Heaven remained a dream, but he did see someone who looked almost other-worldly. He noticed a young man in the village. They both worked the soil, but this man’s body, although thin and gaunt, still retained a youthful beauty. He was cleaner, too clean. But his eyes were what set him apart. They were the most beautiful eyes Col had ever seen. When this young man turned his gaze on Col, all Col saw was blue, a sparkling heaven’s blue.
Col might have been a badly informed serf, but something in him stirred when that young man had looked at him. He felt desire, not in the loins, but in his chest. The beauty in the man’s eyes made him want more.
He didn’t know what that desire meant, but once his heart had been cracked open, once it had stirred from its long sleep of ignorance, Col was powerless to shut it down again. He’d always been more aware than his fellows, but now when he viewed his small, foul world, he reflected on it.
Col wondered why his wife and children had empty bellies most of the time, why none of their eyes held any spark. Even his favorite, his five year old son, the one who looked like his grandfather, who took after Col, even that child had dull eyes. When the boy was younger, he had shown a lighter spirit. It didn’t last. Too much hunger had made him weak, too weak to smile anymore. When the winter came and a local famine further ravaged the village, it took Col’s boy and any hope of seeing his son’s smile again.
The memory was a powerful one. Col got up from the bench, his face contorted with fresh rage. It was so easy to go back in time, to remember the day his child had died. He’d sat in his filthy dwelling with chattering teeth. His child lay in front of him. When he placed a bony hand on the boy’s cold, still body, he couldn’t help himself. He had to hold the child one last time. But when he held the lifeless body against his chest, blame and hate began to fester inside of him.
Col had once had a son who was beautiful, who could make Col proud when he grew up. But that son had been taken from him. If he was still ignorant, he would have accepted his fate like most of his kind. But he wasn’t ignorant, and he suffered. And the one responsible for his suffering was the man with blue eyes.
Those eyes had opened up hell for him. They had awoken him from the sleep of the masses and cast him into the light of awareness. But the only thing Col was aware of was his misery and a life that punished him more and more each day.
He laid his child’s body down on the rough straw with only one thought going through his mind. He would find a way to punish the man who owned the blue eyes. He’d find a way to cast him into the darkness, a darkness that would take the light from his eyes.
Even though it should have been a distant memory, Col still had a hard time dealing with that day. The flush of acute pain was fresh and alive. No matter how much time passed, he’d made sure to hold onto it. He was aware of what he did, how he’d chosen to nurse the hurt of what had been taken from him. It was always there for him, a reminder of why he had to keep fighting.
In that lifetime when Col was a serf, Arel had blue eyes. He’d been the one who cursed Col. He was the witch who took away Col’s innocence. He was God’s boy and the devil’s own too, playing both sides against Col. But for the moment, Col had to set the thoughts aside, put them on the shelf in his mind where he kept the boy’s memory and his pain.
He pulled the cowl of his garment forward, trying to avoid the bit of sun that tried to reach his face. He raised his chin, determined to go on punishing the one who deserved no mercy. He went back to planning his next move. Arel had put up strong shields around himself and those he loved, but that didn’t matter. Col was resilient and smart.
“Smarter than that golden eyed dummy,” he laughed. “My chance will soon come again.”
Twenty-Four
WHILE AREL WAS running some errands, Elise was trying to make sense of her feelings. She sat in her bedroom, staring out the window. It was early December. The trees were bare, and the flowers were long gone from Michael’s garden. While Arel was in London, Elise had been making plans for his return. She’d been looking forward to their first Christmas together. They would put up a big tree, decorate the house from top to bottom and have a wonderful Christmas party for their friends.
Everything changed when Arel arrived home from his trip. As soon as he walked through the front door, her heart sank. It wasn’t just that Arel looked very ill. It was the expression on his face. It was as if he’d been battling something for far too long, and he was one of those soldiers who couldn’t stop marching bravely along to the next conflict. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Arel told her so many crazy things, things that made her afraid for Arel and for their relationship.
Then there was Rolphe, William and Annabel. Why did they accompany Arel back to Chicago? There was some explanation about being there for Peggy, but still, it didn’t add up. If she let herself think about it, all three men seemed to be hiding something. And poor Annabel, she seemed uncomfortable too.
Elise laid her head back and shut her eyes. “I need to know what’s really going on.”
An immediate knock on the door almost made her jump. Was he
r request being answered that quickly? It was a silly thought, but it did make her pause. She was letting herself get miserable when she’d wanted to be there for Arel, no matter what. She had to have more staying power. At the sound of a second knock, she got up and went to the door. When she opened it, she was relieved. It was Michael.
“Oh thank goodness, it’s you,” she said as she reached out, grabbed his arm and pulled him into the bedroom. After shutting the door, she directed him to a seat. “Michael, I need to talk to you.”
“Of course, Rolphe said you were looking for me last evening. Sorry, I stepped out.”
“That’s okay. You’re here now.”
“What can I do for you?”
Elise sat down on the bed and crossed her arms. “First of all, I want straight answers. I don’t want you trying to spare my feelings.”
“I always try to be as forthright as possible if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s exactly what I mean. So here goes. I had a little scare last night. No, I take that back. I had a huge scare.” Elise hesitated. She wanted to be somewhat diplomatic when she discussed her fears about Arel. She wanted to word her question in a way that sounded very composed and rational. And yet, her inquiry flew out of her mouth in a rush. “Michael, don’t lie to me! Just answer yes or no. Am I married to a man who’s completely mad?”
Michael smiled. “No.”
“Okay, is Arel on the verge of an emotional break down?”
“No.”
Elise frowned. “Would you care to elaborate on Arel’s soundness of mind?”
“Exactly what do you want me to say?”
Elise’s frown deepened. “I don’t know. But something inside tells me I’m missing something. When everyone arrived from the airport last night, I immediately got this knot in my stomach. Then Arel said all this crazy stuff which Rolphe and William treated as a by-product of his recent illness. But it’s not just Arel who has me wondering. Rolphe and William try to act relaxed, but they’re tense too. So is Annabel.”
“Elise, what would you like me to say that would help?”
“Tell me everything is okay. Tell me I’m imagining all the stuff I told you.”
“If I did that, it would invalidate your own feelings. And you have a right to those feelings.”
“So you believe me? Do you think the people in this house are hiding something from me?”
“May I ask another question? What are you really afraid of?”
Elise knew the answer immediately. “When I was living with this guy, it was years before I realized he’d been lying to me. He was having affairs all along behind my back.”
“And now? With Arel?”
“I don’t think he’s having an affair, but I think there are things he’s keeping from me. Last night he said he wanted to tell me everything, but he wasn’t making sense.” Elise let out her breath slowly. “He said you were an angel, Michael. How ridiculous, right?”
“If I am an angel for him, is there something wrong with that?”
Elise thought about how much her life had changed since she met Michael. “I guess not. You’ve been an angel for me.”
Ever since Michael and Carey started helping her, at first with a novel she was writing, and later with her feelings about relationships, she had steadily climbed out of a state of bitterness. Eventually, she realized she was in love again, but this time, it was with a good, caring man. And Arel certainly had been good and caring since they’d finally realized they were in love.
She recalled how often Arel had demonstrated his affection in recent months. He often brought her breakfast in bed. He was always telling her how beautiful she was. And when she was having a bad day with writing, he found ways to distract her.
Then there were those intimate moments they shared. Arel’s every touch was always perfect, as if he knew exactly what she needed or found pleasing. Of course, he was a bit of a mind reader. She’d found out about his psychic abilities when Freddie ran away. However, she could get lost in his mesmerizing, golden eyes. They could transport her to realms of delight she’d never imagined possible.
The memories she and Arel made were sweet and wonderful. Recalling them helped her nerves to settle. She glanced up at Michael. “It’s strange, but talking about it to you, it doesn’t seem as scary. In fact, I think I’m just very tired. I didn’t sleep very well. Maybe I’ll go back to bed for a while. Would you tell everyone they’ll need to fend for themselves while I get a nap?”
Michael stood up and started for the door. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. In fact, Annabel and William were just leaving to take Freddie for a walk. And Rolphe is reading in his room.”
“Thank you, Michael,” Elise said as she shut the door behind him. She went over to the bed and climbed atop its fluffy, white comforter. Too tired to undress, she knew if she could sleep for a few minutes, she’d feel more like herself. She’d barely closed her eyes when she was pulled into what felt a little like a dream. Or was it something else?
She was aware of a presence nearby, a dark beckoning presence. When she turned to look at whoever it was, she felt like the presence was behind some kind of barrier. She’d seen lots of movies where prisoners were behind a glass partition. That’s how it felt when she looked at the man who was staring back at her.
She shuddered. The man’s eyes were not normal, human eyes. They were black orbs. The absence of any light frightened her, but the man’s gaze also projected a feeling. If she allowed it to happen, a black, airless void of nothingness could swallow her up and keep her a prisoner forever.
Elise wanted to look away, but something about the man wouldn’t let her. Behind the black eyes and the cruel set of the man’s jaw, behind the ugliness and raw hatred that poured out of the man’s gaze, she sensed a terrifying evil. She sensed the man was bent on her destruction.
* * * * *
Arel slowly pulled the Mustang into the oversized, two-car garage, trying to avoid getting too close to an old Harley motorcycle. It belonged to Carey, and Carey had a habit of parking too far out from the side of the garage. It didn’t leave Arel much space for his car. He voiced his frustration. “When will you ever learn, Carey?”
Carey was an angel in a physical body. However, for years that fact had been hidden from Arel. Now, he still maintained some of his previous attitude, that Carey was young and irresponsible. And it was true in some respects. Carey might be an angel, but when it came to certain human traits, he acted like an overgrown teenager. The question was why. Was Carey trying to test Arel’s patience so Arel would let go of some of his old conditioning? Or was Carey simply having fun while he was playing out his role? Arel could never decide.
He opened the car door, got out, and reminded himself that he shouldn’t waste energy on Carey’s irritating personality. His first duty was keeping his shields in place. He’d promised Peggy he wouldn’t let Col harm her again, and he’d meant what he’d said.
Thankfully, he’d come up with a permanent solution, one that went beyond shields and barriers. Arrangements had been made that would facilitate his plans. The thought made him feel better as he headed towards the door to the house. Before he went inside, he gave himself a mental suggestion. He needed to appreciate the moment, to cherish his time with Elise. Soon, everything would change. The life he knew would be gone.
He reached for the doorknob, determined that what he was doing was the right thing. His composure was shattered when Elise’s shrill voice sounded in his mind. She was yelling at someone. It only took a moment for him to tune into the person she was yelling at. As soon as he did, he threw open the door and started shouting too. “No way, Col! Not my beautiful Elise!”
* * * * *
Rolphe paused and listened. He’d been reading, and he’d heard Elise’s raised voice. It was a disturbing sound, a warning flag that something was wrong. His first thought was Col. He tossed his book aside, jumped up and ran out into the hall. He nearly collided with Arel, but Arel didn’t stop
to correct him.
Arel’s frantic energy was so intense that Rolphe nearly panicked. Luckily, his battlefield training kicked in. He forced himself to calm down. When he did, he thought of something helpful. When he’d heard Elise with his psychic ears, she was upset, but in a loud, demanding sort of way. Still, when Rolphe tuned into the person she was shouting at, he ran to the master bedroom.
He stopped short, just inside the room. Arel was already leaning over Elise. The pretty woman was lying on the bed, looking fragile and defenseless. Rolphe wanted to rush to her side too, but an inner urging told him to remain calm. When he checked his shields, he was satisfied they were holding. Even if Col tried, he couldn’t get to Elise, not unless she allowed it to happen.
Arel didn’t seem to be worried about remaining calm. He was intent on rousing Elise from her slumber. Gathering her up in his arms, he yelled out her name and slapped her cheeks. When Elise finally opened her eyes, she stared back with lined brows. Her slightly reddened cheeks added emphasis to the grimace she gave Arel.
“Were you hitting me?” she asked in a very annoyed voice.
Arel laughed at the question and pulled her close. “Are you alright? I thought I lost you!”
Elise pushed him back enough to scowl at him again. “I was sleeping.” She rubbed her eyes and blinked a couple of times. “I was dreaming about this person, and I was very upset with him.”
Arel’s voice became harsh and insistent. “What did he do? Did he try to hurt you?”
“Arel, please, after all the creeps I’ve been around, I can take care of myself. Besides, it was only a dream.” Elise put a hand to her cheek. “I was trying to catch up on my sleep. Now I’m still tired, and my face hurts.”
Rolphe couldn’t help himself. He smiled broadly. Ever since he’d come to his senses and gotten his life back on track, he’d always felt Arel was the man in charge. And Arel had recently reinforced that position when he put Col in his place. Now, Elise was letting her husband know he had a partner who was pretty tough herself.