by D. M. Pratt
“I’ll have to think about that for a while,” he said and smiled at her.
Eve smiled; she knew and felt all he was going through in those brief moments of silence. It was easy to read it in his eyes. That’s what she liked about him most, that they could read each other’s needs almost before the other knew themselves. She was grateful she had him as a friend.
“Mac, be careful,” Eve said.
Mac stepped outside and was gone. The wind, growing stronger, caught the screen door and slammed it shut. Eve looked up to see the fast moving clouds darkening from white to gray. A storm was coming.
Chapter Twenty Five
Beau sat motionless on the edge of the bed in their bedroom holding Eve’s brush. His expression was blank, his body felt numb. He didn’t want to feel the pangs of guilt and betrayal that gnawed at his thoughts. He wanted to talk to Eve, explain, promise it would never happen again, beg her forgiveness, kiss her face and make love to her, but first he had to find her.
He lifted his other hand to his eyes. He could still smell the scent of Cora … of the two of them on his skin. He didn’t want to admit it, but he wanted her. Some wild animal impulse that he had no control over, needed her. Beau stood and crossed to the bathroom. Turning on the water, Beau stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the water. He needed to scrub her off his body, out of his hair, and out of his mind. He caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror, peeking through the billows of steam. Angry red claw marks striped down his back. He hadn’t remembered her nails being that long or that sharp, and worse he hadn’t remembered her gouging them into him. The memory of them making love made him erect. It had been like nothing he’d ever experienced; present, visceral, immediate, but at the same time otherworldly. It had been a state of pleasurable bliss that defied description. Yet making love to Eve was even better. He needed her. He turned to face the mirror and as he did something inhuman flashed through his image.
Beau’s heart jumped into his throat. It had to be a hallucination. He looked again and the image returned – the two reflections mingled into one. They/he/it looked almost human and had several of his features, but the edges blurred as it moved. Their bodies matched perfectly in size, but its skin pulsed, shifting from flesh into an array of shades inside a glow that ended the spectrum at a deep, reddish hue like a bad sunburn. Before Beau could comprehend what was happening, a voice spoke to him.
“It’s time for you to remember who you are and why you were born,” the voice said.
Beau stood speechless, staring at the image that vacillated between his and someone … something else’s.
“I am Kirakin. I am you. I run in your blood as I ran in your grandfather and his father and his father before him. I am the blood of the Nephilim.”
“No! I broke that curse,” Beau said.
“Mortals and fools call it a curse. What you are is a gift, created before time and given to humanity. You thought when you drank the ayahuasca in Peru and the medicine man guided you to dance with the winged women, you were made free. But you know your freedom is impossible. You cannot be free from yourself.”
“I made love to the winged woman!”
“You think her powerful enough to break your bonds. Did you erase from your memory that after you fucked her to death, you raped a hundred more women, just as Gofney did when he lived in France and then a thousand times again when he came to the new land. He did as his ancestors did, and as his spawn did. So did you. Just as Philip will when he is called.”
“No,” Beau said. “I found Eve. I mated with Eve.”
“You did what I commanded you to do,” Kirakin told him.
“She was why I came home. She gave birth to my son.”
“Did she? Or is he mine? As for saving you…until she knows her truth, she cannot save you or herself and I will take her back long before that happens,” Kirakin said.
“Then I’ll wake her! She will save me!”
“That I will not allow. You hid from me for eight years, but you came back because you had no choice. You are weak. You betrayed her. She saw you seduced. It’s far too late for you and Eve, Beau, and now, I will bring you into my world. Once I have you here, it will be by my will alone that allows you to return,” Kirakin said.
The red in his skin deepened, the glow that emanated from Kirakin’s eyes intensified. There was something in his eyes Beau had seen before, but he couldn’t figure out where.
In the mirror, Beau saw his own eyes lift, move up, a spirit ascending from flesh. He could see the ghostly shape of his transparent image drift out of his body and be dragged toward the mirror. His ghostly image looked back helpless at his body, a motionless, empty shell, waiting for Kirakin to step inside. Beau began to fight. Struggling, he used all his strength and pulled his spirit form back from the mirror and into his body. He commanded his feet to step out of the shower, each step feeling as though he moved through thick molasses. Beau stepped out of the bathroom and slammed the door. The pressure released. Naked, wet and weak from the transformation, he leaned against the door.
Beau looked across the room. Kirakin stood staring at him from the bedroom mirror. In the dim light Kirakin reached through the reflecting glass. Beau felt himself, spirit and body, drifting apart again. He dropped to the floor, grabbing pants and pulling them on as he crawled as quickly as he could out of the room. Beau looked down the hall. The walls held three more mirrors. Each began to glow and pulse. Beau darted into Philip’s empty room. He grabbed every cover, sheet and blanket he could find and hung them over the glass, windows and mirrors to hide his reflection.
“You think you can escape me?” Kirakin said from behind one of them. “You can’t Beau. You are me and I am you, just in your true form.”
Beau, half naked and alone, once again felt himself draining away.
“That’s a lie. None of this is real,” he shouted. “Whatever you are, get the fuck out of my house.”
“This is very real so either stop fighting me or I will crush you and bring you into my realm painfully broken!” Kirakin said.
Beau could hear Kirakin’s anger intensify with every word.
Beau stumbled down the hallway, his body weakening with every step. Every uncovered mirror pulled on him with the force of a gale wind. He made it to the top of the stairs. His mind spun, he felt weak and disoriented as he stumbled. He tripped, tumbling down the stairs and splattering across the entry floor. He felt the lights fading, as if someone was turning down the sun. As the room darkened his strength drained from him. He looked up into a swirling open portal. He could see that at the other end was Kirakin’s world. A long tunnel spiraled into it, narrow at his end and opening wider and wider at Kirakin’s end. He saw glimpses of a purple, grey sky with harsh, jagged rocks that jutted up from a barren, desolate landscape. Kirakin stood at its center, enormous, powerful, at least twelve feet tall, waiting to crush him.
Beau was moving toward Kirakin. Beau clenched his fist. He fought to hold his ground. He would fight Kirakin with his last ounce of strength. He thought of Eve and Philip. He had to find a way to protect those he loved from this monster that was somehow part of him. If he could destroy Kirakin, maybe he could be free. He looked back as he was pulled deeper, closer to the other world.
A strange dusting of grey ashes fell, covering him. Beau looked at his arms and then up at Kirakin. The creature’s eyes widened, filling with fury. Beau looked back as the last light from his side became no more than a pin hole and felt arms wrap around him.
“Let him go!” Aria yelled.
Aria threw a large blanket over him to protect him from the vortex that was sucking his life and soul into Kirakin’s dimension. Aria was thin and wiry, but she was amazingly strong, determined and very tough.
She dragged him to his feet and got her shoulders under his arms allowing all two hundred pounds of his weight to rest on her. Beau somehow managed to get his legs underneath him.
“I need you to run,” Aria said.
> It took everything Beau had to move his feet, legs, body. Step after step his body defied him. Still, he pushed forward. Finally he felt the rhythm of her steps and fell into sync with her as they made it across the entry and out the front door. The house began to tremble. Aria knew that Kirakin was furious because she had stolen his prey. Beau stumbled and they both crashed to the hard gravel. She helped Beau to his feet again. The earth cracked and split open behind them. Again they fell. Again they got back to their feet. Together they ran only inches ahead of the opening earth.
Aria changed directions, pushing Beau into Eve’s open car door. She slammed it shut and sprinted around to the driver’s side. The uneven ground forced her to hold on to the fender. Aria slipped, smashing down into the gravel on her knee. Blood spurted from a gaping wound. The pain bit into her leg and made her eyes squeeze shut and her breath catch. When she opened her eyes her heart stopped.
Curls of crimson red smoke crawled from the crack in the ground, splitting and advancing like smoldering tentacles across the courtyard to get her. Aria reached to her throat to grab her leather pouch. The grigri was gone. She’d used it and its powers to stop him in his own dimension. Weaponless, she had only her wits. Aria pulled herself to her feet. Her leg screamed at her and the pain cut into her. Blood splattered onto the rocks as she somehow got the door open. Beau reached out grabbed her arm and snatched her inside. Aria slammed the door as the red smoke billowed toward them. Aria reached out, Thank you, she thought, Eve had left the keys.
The world outside the car boomed and rattled, dust rose from the ground, the leaves quivered as the trees shook in the violent tremors.
“DRIVE!” Beau shouted, looking at what pursued them.
Aria started the car and slammed her foot onto the accelerator. The car lurched forward. The combustion engine roared to life and they took off until—the car jerked to a stop. The engine roared under the pressure of her foot. The tires spun … held in the clutches of an invisible force. They were captive.
“Go!” Beau shouted, as pressure from the smoke began crushing the metal car.
“My foot’s to the floor!” Aria said.
She released the pedal and jammed it down again. The car lurched forward, pulling, inch by inch through the thick swirls of scarlet smoke that cocooned the car. With a final shudder the car broke free and Aria sped for the side gate, gaining speed and precious distance with every second. Beau looked back as the smoke curled back on itself; a red tsunami of trembling energy stretched up above the guest house and with the force of a huge fist, crashed down, crushing the house into oblivion and exploding into flames!
Chapter Twenty Six
Cora woke up in her own bed. She opened her eyes and tried to move. Her body felt as though a train had hit her. It hurt to breathe. Her hair hurt. She looked down and saw the white gauze bandage that covered her hands and felt the bandage on her chin. It was in the exact place Eve told her she had been cut in her dream.
“Hi,” Zamara said.
Cora turned her face and there Zamara sat in the rocker next to her bed. She looked exhausted. Cora could see through the drawn window curtains that night and blackness filled the world.
“How long have I …” Cora started to speak.
“More than a day. It’s midnight.”
“Delia? Where’s Delia?” Cora asked. The tears welled in her eyes as pieces of the lost day flooded back into her mind.
“She’s still with Miss Eve,” Zamara said.
“Did Eve call? Do we know where?” Cora asked, struggling to get the covers off and get up.
“You need to stay right where you are,” Zamara said.
Cora ignored her, forcing her feet to the floor. She grabbed for the headboard to steady herself. Zamara was already up and supporting her.
“We have to find her,” Cora said. “She has no right to take my daughter.”
“You need to sit down and listen to me,” Zamara said.
Again Cora ignored her, pushing her aside and heading to the door.
“Miss Eve is the only hope your daughter has to survive,” Zamara said.
That stopped her. Cora turned to face Zamara. “What are you talking about? Where’s my daughter and how is Eve going to protect her any more than I can?”
“You need to sit down, Miss Cora, and listen to what I have to say. Drink this water,” Zamara said, handing her a glass of fresh water. “Go on. Sit.”
Cora reluctantly sank into the rocker and drank the water. It tasted sweet and cold and somehow made the horrible pain that ripped at her muscles fade. Not completely, but enough so that she could bear to move.
“What’s in this water?” Cora asked.
“It will help with the pain.”
“Why am I in so much pain?”
Zamara let go of a long, sad sigh, “Oh, Miss Cora, do you remember any of what happened last night?”
Memories drifted back into Cora’s mind. She could see Beau’s face, taste his kisses, feel his touch and the weight of his body intertwined with hers.
“What happened is none of your concern, Zamara,” Cora said.
There was no rudeness or even the slightest hint of Cora’s usual haughtiness. She was embarrassed and the idea of discussing what had happened with her best friend’s fiancé with her nanny was more than inappropriate.
“But it is, Cora,” Zamara said.
Suddenly the formalities fell away and only two women faced each other.
“I …” the words caught in her mouth.
“You fucked Beau Gregoire and he fucked you,” Zamara said with a cold slap of reality. “What you don’t understand is that neither of you had any choice.”
Cora looked at her, trying to get her mind around the hope that what she’d done wasn’t her fault. That someone else was to blame.
“No … I wanted him. I … want him.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. More than I can even understand,” Cora said.
“You live in a very sheltered world,” Zamara said. “I need you to open your mind, Cora. If you are to survive what’s coming and save your child as well as the child you are carrying right now, you have to think beyond what you know.”
“I’m pregnant? That’s impossible,” Cora said, touching her stomach. “I know I should have stopped. Beau should have stopped before…”
“It’s not Beau who’s the father of this child. The father lives through Beau and the child belong to a new race of humans.”
“New race of … that’s preposterous. It takes a millennium of random genetic selections to alter human DNA enough to create a separate race,” Cora said.
“That’s when you are only dealing with human DNA. In this case, you are not.”
“Stop it! I won’t listen to this preposterous nonsense!” Cora said.
“I’m sorry, Miss Cora, but I am going to have to show you some things. They are harsh, ugly and frightening. Unless you accept them as another kind of reality, one that co-exists inside and outside our dimension simultaneously, you are going to die. Or worse, you’ll live as a breeding machine for a cruel monster,” Zamara said.
Zamara slowly knelt in front of Cora. “Look into my eyes, Cora, and no matter what you see, don’t look away. Do it!”
Cora hesitated, but she knew Zamara was speaking the truth. Slowly, she nodded. Her eyes connected with Zamara’s and she felt Zamara’s hands settle on her knees. The moment the connection was complete Cora felt her mind explode with colors, places and events. She was in her house in New Orleans, running. She saw Miss Clarisse and a huge man with skin that seemed to glow a fiery red. He attacked Miss Clarisse and ripped her face off and snapped her neck, tossing her away like a rag doll. The man – thing – demon turned on Cora. She saw herself terrified, trying to run. It caught her and fell on her, viciously raping her.
“No!” Cora screamed, backing away from Zamara and closing her eyes.
Zamara grabbed her face with both hands and turned it back to look at he
rs.
“Look into my eyes, Cora!” Zamara commanded. “Open your eyes!”
Cora opened her eyes. Tears streamed from them as she looked back into Zamara’s eyes. Instantly she felt herself falling into Zamara’s liquid brown eyes as she became both victim and observer. Cora watched as she lashed out at the demon. She fought and it fought back, ripping and tearing and shredding her into pieces. She watched herself being raped by this enormous creature. She could feel the terror and the pain as he fucked her until she finally succumbed, unable to fight, only able to surrender. It felt as though this monster had swallowed her soul and dragged her into a place so deep and so black it would never let her go. Everything faded to black. Cora felt the tears fall from her eyes. Zamara stood and stepped away from her, allowing Cora to deal with what she’d seen.
“When … did this happen?” Cora asked.
“It was another time. Three weeks after Miss Eve hit her head in the garden.”
“Impossible,” Cora said.
“You need to forget that word. It no longer applies,” Zamara told her.
“Please. Stop,” Cora whispered. “No more.”
Zamara closed her eyes and took her hands away.
“He wants you and the unborn child.”
“Can you help me?” Cora asked.
Zamara lowered her head and stood, turning away. “No.”
“What about Eve?” Cora asked.
“Aria thinks Eve’s a very powerful key to some complex master plan that will not only save you and Beau, Philip and Delia, but all of the children who have been conceived to be the next generation of humanity.”
“But … what about you?” Cora asked.
Zamara’s eyes flooded with tears. “My fate is cast. All hope is lost to me. I will be punished for showing you what I have.”