Harmony

by Sonya Bria

  “Yes, for the moment,” Ian replied tenderly in his ministrations. I looked down at my dress and started to cry, remembering what had just transpired.

  Ian wiped the tears away with a towel. “Shhh, don’t cry love. It’s all over now.” He bent his head closer and gingerly pressed his lips to my forehead.

  “I’m so sorry about my dress,” I sobbed.

  “Your dress?” Ian was dumbfounded. “Soph, we can get you another dress, but I can’t get another you.” Ian stroked my hair.

  “I know, but look at me…I’m a mess,” I said, trying to sit up. “You’re hurt too.” I noticed for the first time that Ian had gashes on his arm, neck, and chest.

  “Don’t worry about me; vampires heal quickly,” Ian said remorsefully and added, “I don’t think Grams is going to let you go out with me anymore.”

  Grams! “What time is it?” I fumbled around looking for a phone.

  “One in the morning. You’ve been out if it for awhile now,” Ian said, hushing me. “Don’t worry, I called her and said I’d bring you back in the morning.”

  I rolled onto my side and winced. “She was okay with that?” I asked.

  “I didn’t really give her a choice, Sophie,” Ian said, tentatively cradling my body. “I can only imagine what she’s thinking.” I cringed in embarrassment. “Do you think she’s safe?” I asked. “Connacher is not interested in your grandmother,” Ian stated. “She is safe.” We lay in silence for a few more minutes. “I didn’t think you’d want me to bathe you…can you manage, or do you need my help?” Ian said, changing the subject.

  I started blushing yet again. “I think I can manage, but I’ll need some clothes.”

  Ian helped me to the bathroom. “I’ll leave some things on the bed. Call me if you need anything.” I painstakingly peeled what was left of my dress from my body. I had bruises on my arms, sides, and thighs. Small cuts from the underbrush splattered my arms and legs. “Great. I look like I went through the briar patch.” I started to cry again thinking about Connacher. At least I was still alive. The hot water from the shower was both therapeutic and punishing. I wished that I had some sort of healing powers. Maybe Ian could give me some of his blood…I pushed that thought away, not sure where it had come from. This was going to be great trying to explain to Grams what had happened. I couldn’t scrub enough with the bar of soap to remove the filth I still felt from having Connacher touch me, lick my blood. How could something be so vile? It didn’t seem fair that Ian had that desire in him too. I’d always felt safe with him.

  Ian had left me a shirt and sweat pants. I toweled off as best as I could manage and gathered up his shirt. It smelled like Ian. —that same musky, vanilla spice my soul craved. It was the comfort I needed. The pants were huge, but manageable. I found a comb and surveyed myself. I look terrible! I was almost too embarrassed to see Ian, but I didn’t want to be alone.

  I found Ian in front of the fireplace tending to the fire he’d just built. He didn’t turn when I came into the room even though he knew I was there. He’d changed as well, and he looked dejected. I peered into his mind. He was sad and felt responsible.

  “Ian?” I said tentatively.

  Ian stood and crossed the room. “How do you feel?” he asked, searching my face.

  “A little better,” I managed a weak smile.

  Ian steered me to the couch in front of the fire. “Here, put this on. It will keep you warm,” he said as he handed me a blanket. Ian began to inspect my arms.

  “Ian,” I said gently, pulling his hand away. “I will be okay. It’s just not a pretty sight right now.” Ian gently raised my chin to look at him. “Sophie, even with all these cuts and bruises you will always be beautiful to me.” He shook his head. “Sorry about the clothes. I should have told you to bring something for later on the beach, but you kind of look adorable wearing mine,” he added with a smile.

  I remained still, mulling over the attack again. “Ian, what made you stop from attacking me like Connacher? I mean, I could see the thirst in your eyes and feel the rage, but you stayed back.”

  Ian shut his eyes. “It’s hard to explain. All my carnal senses were urging me on, but something inside kept insisting that you’d be gone, and that thought was more powerful than my desires.” I laid my head on his shoulder and remained quiet. “Sophie, you have to believe me when I say that I could not bear it if something happened to you. My existence up to this point has been pretty pointless. I like experiencing humanity again through you.”

  We remained silent for quite a while, watching the flames flicker and the logs crackle in the fireplace. “It sounds like you have a soul, Ian,” I finally said.

  “That’s not possible.”

  “Ian, not everything is black and white. Haven’t we seen that already?” I said determinedly. “There is no logical explanation for you and me. I have to believe that there is a place out there for us.”

  Ian was thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t know if I can hope for that, Sophie, but I do know that I’m grateful for this time I have with you.” He reached down to gently kiss my lips. “It’s more precious than you know.”

  “Ian, don’t talk like that; it’s like you’re saying goodbye. Don’t give up on us yet,” I stressed. “Soph, you’re exhausted. Let me carry you upstairs,” Ian said, pulling me up into his arms.

  “Will you stay with me?” I pleaded. I still felt uneasy.

  “You know I will.” He kissed my forehead again as he carried me up the stairs to his bedroom. I felt safe tucked into his bed with him lying next to me. I could picture many nights like this in the future. Ian’s arms were cold, but that didn’t dissipate the warmth I felt from his soul. He wasn’t ready to admit it or accept it was true, but I knew otherwise. There was no other reason why he didn’t kill me or turn me into what raged below the surface.

  ***

  Sophie was finally asleep, albeit fitfully. Ian tucked the quilt more tightly around her. He could lay by her side and watch her forever. She looked so peaceful. He winced at the cuts and bruises visible on her face. I had been the cause of this, my betrayal of Connacher, his fate. Ian didn’t want to hurt Sophie further, but he knew that the time was fast approaching when he would hurt her far beyond that of physical pain. His own premonitions of the future were unfolding. He’d seen this night played over and over in his mind.

  Ian stared up at the ceiling. He felt helpless to do anything about it. He couldn’t make Sophie’s choices for her—she had to decide.

  “Sophie,” Ian whispered into the night, “I vow this will never happen again. I’ll leave before I hurt you again. I love you, Sophia Marie Flynn,” he declared. That simple truth was what scared him more, admitting finally that he was madly in love with her too.

  NIGHTMARE REVISITED

  I don’t remember dreaming as I fell asleep, but I felt uneasy. My body could sense a change in the air. I knew Ian lay beside me, and that was comforting, but I had the fleeting notion that it wouldn’t always be this way, and that frightened me. I saw the meadow for its beauty; the various colors and lights, and how they intermingled and charged the air in and around me. I also felt the wind and tasted the water from the stream. I heard faint music in the background, the melody of that Irish song my mother and Ian sang to me. I couldn’t understand the words—it was in Gaelic—but my mind seemed to interpret it for me. It was a lover’s song. A song of promise and of union. It was glorious and rejuvenating to my soul.

  I saw something strange in the distance; something unfamiliar from past dreams. I was drawn to it. It was a woman—she was beautiful and somewhat familiar. She had crimson hair flowing down her back, airy clothes that flowed around her body, and eyes that pierced me to the depths of my soul.

  “Hello Sophie,” the woman said to me.

  “Hello,” I replied hesitantly. “Do I know you?” I asked.

  “I’m Deirdre.”

  The legend Grams had told me unfolded in my mind. “Deirdre of the Ulster? How can t
hat be?” I inquired, disbelieving who I saw before me.

  She smiled. “Why do you doubt your destiny, child?” “I’m not sure what my destiny is.”

  Deirdre sighed. “I’d hoped you would have figured it out by now,” she said, glancing around her.

  “What do you want from me?” I pleaded.

  “Your vampire reminded me of someone I used to love…it’s been a while since I’ve been challenged…I’d forgotten how tender devotion could be. I don’t have much time,” she urgently whispered. She was making me nervous. “How do you think you frightened the demons off?”

  “Connacher?” I asked in dismay.

  “Yes,” Deirdre replied in disgust. Clearly she despised him more than Ian and I.

  “I don’t really remember,” I said. “I felt powerful, like the energy of nature was fueling my aura.”

  “Go on,” she urged.

  “It was overwhelming. I felt burning in my veins; it felt like light,” I hedged, trying to find the appropriate words to describe what had transpired. “No, I was light!” It was finally clicking.

  “Yes, you are remembering,” Deirdre said urgently as she looked around. “Quickly.”

  I began rewinding the scene of the attack in my head. “Connacher touched me, and I think it burned him,” I suddenly said in recognition. “What does this mean?”

  “It means that you have the power to fight, use it wisely. I’ve already said more than allowed. It is up to you my child to decide your path.” She tenderly brushed a hand over my head like a mother would her child. “Use what has been gifted to you from our family. It will make you stronger and see things more clearly.”

  I was confused. “Our family? Wait, don’t go yet.”

  She was already disappearing into the mist. She turned suddenly and gently touched my cheek. “Child you are a part of me, the goodness of my soul.” With that, Deirdre disappeared.

  I was so fixed upon her appearance that I realized too late that the air had turned colder and night had fallen. The darkness in my mind was choking. It had a name now; Connacher was near. I woke with a start.

  Ian looked concerned, “Soph, what’s the matter?” he said, pulling me closer. “I didn’t know if I should wake you.”

  “I saw Deirdre.”

  Ian tensed, “Just now?”

  “I know it’s strange, but she was in my dream too. She tried to explain my gift to me,” I said, lost in thought.

  “Is that all?” Ian ventured.

  “I think so,” I said, trying to remember. “She said I needed to learn how to control it.” Ian furrowed his brow in contemplation. “How do you think I should go about doing that? I’ve only seen it happen when I’m angry or feel threatened,” I said in dismay. “But it was amazing!” I said sitting up. “I could see the life forces, the energy of every living thing in nature; it was a beautiful harmony.”

  Ian sat quietly, and I waited for him to say something, but he remained silent.

  “Wait,” I continued, “I’ve heard that song—it was in Gaelic, but my mind somehow understood. It was a song of promise between Deirdre and Naois,” I explained. “It’s been broken, and I think she wants me to fix it. Do you think the song is what traps her here—keeps her tethered to this plane of existence?” I said thinking out loud.

  “It’s possible,” Ian replied. “Connacher’s druid, Cathbad was involved in the practice of dark magic. Perhaps he cursed her just like she cursed them.”

  I was overwhelmed, bruised, and tattered, but not alone. I drew strength from Ian. This tragedy was not our fault—but it was now or never, we had to finish it or we’d never know true peace. I felt the fog lifting and hope soaring as the pieces of the puzzle slowly came together. “Will you help me break the curse?” I asked.

  “Can I ever deny you anything?” he said, ruffling my hair.

  “First,” I said as I got out bed, “I should call Grams—I’m not going home yet.” I picked up the phone and called her. At first she wanted me to come home, but I somehow convinced her that everything was okay. “I feel that there is something here that will help me understand my connection with nature, and I need Ian to teach me how to defend myself,” I told her. “I love you too, Grams.”

  I hung up the phone and averted my eyes from Ian’s amused ones. “That was painful,” I muttered to myself.

  We drove that morning to the next town to pick up a few essentials for me since I was planning on staying for at least another day. I appreciated Ian’s things, but I couldn’t see lounging around in his sweatpants for long. I didn’t want to be alone, and truth be told, I didn’t think Ian was quite ready to leave me alone either; he was still feeling guilty over the attack on me. We found a Sears catalog store, and Ian kindly purchased a pair of pants, shirt, and pajamas for me. It was mildly embarrassing when he paid for the more delicate items for me. I was mortified.

  On the drive back, Ian said, “I was thinking that I might know of a way to help you control your power. I remember what helped me after I decided to abstain from human blood.”

  “What’s that?” I asked more than ready to break the awkward silence.

  “I practiced the Buddhist form of meditation,” Ian said.

  “How very Zen of you,” I laughed.

  “I’m serious, Sophie. Meditation teaches you the connection between the conscious and unconscious mind,” Ian scolded my lack of seriousness. “I can’t believe I forgot. The Buddhists call it a state of mindfulness.”

  Fully chastised after Ian’s gentle rebuke I asked, “Did it help?”

  “Yes, I became more aware of my passions, desires, and their different meanings,” he said.

  “But I thought you were trying to suppress that side of you?” I asked.

  “Yes, but Buddhism teaches you to focus on the present, not the past or future,” Ian stated. “You want to achieve a state of being. Without awareness of my demonic side, there could be no balance in my life.”

  “I guess that makes sense. You seem to walk a thin line though, Ian.”

  “Very thin,” Ian agreed.

  “I’m sorry that I have caused you to stumble—I can see that now.”

  “Hey,” Ian said, grabbing my hand, “don’t be sorry. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Remember what we felt dancing?” he asked. “You give me balance.”

  “Well, your life would be far less complicated,” I mused.

  “I’m finding that I like complicated,” Ian said squeezing my hand tighter.

  We set a blanket down outside the cabin; Ian thought it would be helpful to be outdoors as we explored meditation. I agreed it would probably help me connect better with my surroundings.

  “Is there a particular way I should sit? Hold hands—that sort of thing?” I was clearly out of my comfort range.

  “No,” Ian said, “sit anyway that makes you feel comfortable.” he sat across from me, sensing my uneasiness as we ventured yet again into the unknown. He took both my hands in his. “Sophie, the most important thing about meditation is belief. Forget what science tells you, what the world tells you,” Ian stressed. “Your mind is powerful, but it can play tricks on you; obstruct you from your path to enlightenment.” I let out a huge sigh and rolled the sore muscles in my neck. “Can you do that?” Ian asked.

  I nodded my head and entered his mind. Ian, I want to understand what’s inside of me, what I am, what we are. I have to believe that it all has meaning. I trust you completely.

  “Okay, close your eyes and listen carefully,” Ian said. I closed my eyes. “I want you to inhale and exhale; focus on your breathing. Empty yourself of everything, and let your mind be at peace.”

  I did as he asked, and I could see Ian in my mind’s eye; he was guiding me along a path. We came to a bridge.

  “Good, you can see it too,” Ian said approvingly. “Think of the bridge as a connection between your conscious and unconsciousness. Your unconscious mind is the part of you that governs your desires, impulses, and instincts. Your consci
ous mind is the light; the vehicle by which you reveal the hidden contents.”

  I saw myself hesitating—standing on one side of the bridge and Ian on the other side. He was holding out his hands. I heard the Gaelic melody whispering through the woods.

  Sophie, Ian said, switching to telepathy. You have to cross the bridge. You have to join both together for this to work.

  I was hesitant, not sure if I could or wanted to discover what was locked inside of me.

  Cross the bridge, Ian gently, but firmly coaxed me along. I walked slowly, aware of my surroundings with each step I took. I felt a myriad of sensations assault my body. I felt the wind once more against my skin.

  Good, Ian said.

  My powers of perception were reaching beyond the bounds of my conscious mind. The old Gaelic song was stronger on this side. It possessed a stronger structure, harmony, and rhythm, unlike any other song I’d known. It was symbolic of the interdependence between all living creatures. It had a deeper meaning than I’d imagined; it was more than just a love song between two forlorn and doomed souls. It was as if all these images, thoughts, and sounds in my mind were communicating using this harmony as a type of universal language.

  Ian, this is amazing! Can you see all this too? I asked in wonderment. Am I doing this?

  Focus, Sophie.Use your awareness to connect with the world outside your body. I saw myself painting. What are you doing? Ian asked.

  I’m creating a masterpiece, silly. I watched myself use broad strokes of vibrant colors. Isn’t it beautiful? I said, standing back to admire my work. Something was not quite right. I needed a way to bring all of these elements together. I was obsessed—splashing paint everywhere.

  Be patient, Sophie. You are almost there…I can feel it. Just let go and be. Ian steered me back. I had so many questions! How did I fit in with all of this? Who was I? With each new sensation and brush stroke, I became more enlightened. I wasn’t really changing; I was freeing who I really was. I was a part of this energy that flowed all around us. I could see clearly now—it was exhilarating. The whole process swept me up, and I had to catch my breath. Ian was right there in the middle of my discovery. There was light and also darkness. Nature kept them both in check. It seemed so simple really. I was still an individual, but I was also part of a bigger picture.