Sekhet

  ***

  Olivia listened as Victor’s phone rang for what seemed the hundredth time and went straight to the voicemail message: “This mailbox is full.” Since he had left to chase down a lead, she hadn’t heard a single thing from him in days.

  Tempted to contact the police station, it entered her mind that this would not be the smartest thing she could do. After all, what good would come from it? He would surely find out, an argument most definitely would begin about her ongoing trust issues, but the makeup sex was always fantastic, that she had to admit.

  Surprisingly, he never seemed to understand, to her utmost irritation, that all their arguments began and ended with Molly. Olivia couldn’t stand it, the phone calls, how Victor would drop everything when Molly needed him, or why he always took her side if there was nothing to it.

  Her imagination had, as always, begun to run away with her with thoughts of them sharing a bed. Of course, he had told her numerous times that they at no point in time had ever made love, they were just childhood friends. So why was it so hard for her to believe him?

  Having had a handful of fairly decent relationships before Victor, and a bad one, she knew from first-hand experience and not just from her counseling couples that a good relationship took work. But after two years, they were still in that same place; they had not committed one hundred percent to each other, which led her to draw her own conclusions.

  Flinging her phone on the bed, Olivia made her way to the bathroom to shower, in a bid to get organized for her day ahead. Two patients with problems which to her were superficial, but to them, their lives were over as they knew it.

  Victor still hadn’t determined if he was partial to the color of the walls, let alone the tiles facing the door as you entered the bathroom. This, of course, made her break out into the psychoanalysis of his issue with permanent-ness. i.e., commitment. It was one thing that drove Victor absolutely demented, and Molly loved that Olivia would constantly do this to him. Where did he run when she irritated him? To Molly, of course.

  Turning on the tap, waiting for the water to warm up, Olivia scrutinized herself in the full-length mirror, turning slightly sideways in a bid to check her posterior. She had never been a size zero, nor had she ever wanted to be. Her curves were lip-smacking scrumptious, as Victor would often say. The wall phone in the kitchen was ringing – Victor! Not caring about a towel to cover up with, or even that the window blinds were all open, Olivia raced to the kitchen, stubbing her little toe on a heavy box Victor had yet to unpack.

  “Ow!” she yelled as she hit the answer button.

  “Olivia? Are you okay?”

  His voice was tired, but genuinely worried at her inability to speak as she moved away from the receiver. “Olivia?”

  She could hear him loud and clear. As the tears flowed, she glanced down at the toe and cringed. “I think I just broke my toe. Ow, it hurts to touch it.”

  “How the hell did you do that?”

  “I ran into one of your stupid boxes while trying to get from the bathroom to answer the phone. What the hell is in that box? I swear it hurts more than breaking ten bones!”

  His laugh made her smile. “I am so sorry, sweetie, I promise I will get it sorted as soon as I get back,” Victor cooed over the line.

  “Where are you? “It must be a serious lead that you don’t call me for days.”

  “Remember that Lily Davis murder? We got the guy. The husband. He did it.”

  “That is great, Victor. Congratulations, but when will you be back?” Olivia asked, ignoring the pain to concentrate on his voice.

  “I’m not too sure. Another couple of days, maybe. It depends on how long it takes to wrap everything up.”

  “That long?” Olivia replied, biting her fingernail gently so as not to damage the manicure she received yesterday from the new girl down the street. Cheap, clean with a pleasant aroma wafting through the air. At the time, it had reminded her of the incense her roommate in college would burn to hide the fact she enjoyed to smoke a little something of the herbal family. That was back before it was legal in Washington State.

  “It's more serious than I first-” A loud commotion shattered their conversation.

  The voice that traveled across the airwaves made Olivia’s heart skip a beat. “Is that Molly?”

  “Yes, and no, it is not what you are thinking, so please do not go there, Olivia. I have to go, I promise I will call you tomorrow.” A pause. “I miss you.”

  With that, Victor was gone and Olivia was livid.

  ***

  Staring out her bedroom window in the grayness of early morning, where she had gone, and locked the door, when she recovered from the shock, sitting on the bed she had shared for more than twenty-five years with a man who appeared to have lied about his entire life, Jess was devastated.

  “I am obviously going crazy,” she cried to herself, knowing that what she had witnessed couldn’t be explained away; no sane person would believe her. Getting up wearily, Jess began to pace the floor, grabbing at her hair, fighting back tears of both anger and pain. This thing she had seen, it had horns, wings, and eyes bright white, with black markings on its chest and down its right leg.

  How did this happen? An apparition stepped out of the body? A demon inhabits the body of her husband? Jess had no answers. Jess couldn’t help but find him magnetic, in a strange and disturbing way. He had walked toward her, hand outstretched, willing her to take it. Fighting against every fiber of her being, she had turned away.

  Jess had been mesmerized by the creature. Elf-like ears stood out slightly, cutting through the black shoulder-length hair, not the short gray hair of her husband. A marking she couldn’t quite make out had outlined the left side of his face, down to his chin. Not thick designs, not words of any kind, but thin flowing lines which enhanced his cheek bones.

  His wings were not like the angels in the paintings of the old masters. No, these wings were bent and worn, almost translucent in spots, but not destroyed, ragged like storm-ravaged sails. The thing that upset Jess the most were the horns, even though she did not know that an angel once fallen from Heaven was given horns for siding with Lucifer. Is this what he was? But there were no cloven hooves, no claws.

  She was petrified about what this all meant. Who was this creature? And what about her husband? Was he still lying on the floor below, as still as death, yet breathing?

  “It’s me,” he had said. But who was he referring to?

  Jess’s mind had been a complete mess at that moment in time; nervously, she had contemplated running out of the house. Then what? Aileen hadn’t moved. For some mysterious and peculiar reason, she had just stood there, smiling at the creature, this man, this…demon?

  The house was completely still, which she had to admit she was grateful for; all she had needed was for her youngest to come walking in, scream, and scare the shit out of whatever this was. Lizzie would be awake soon. She would have to unlock the door and go to her baby girl.

  “You know who I am, Jess,” he had said. “Please, let me show you.” His hand was still outstretched. “I picked you because I thought you would understand.” He had said that.

  “He said this, he said that.” Laughing hysterically at her stupidity, Jess threw open the window, allowing the cold air in, surrounding her body with tranquil fingers – a promise of normality.

  “Mom?” Aileen’s voice flowed on the air like a melody. “Are you awake?”

  “I’m up,” Jess called back, straightening her hair, getting up to unlock the door.

  Her daughter came barreling through the door, looking beautiful as always with her hair long and perfect, her beautiful skin, which had never had a single pimple, even when going through puberty. She radiated youthfulness. Her smile showed perfectly straight, cavity-free white teeth that would put a dentist out of business. In fact, she had never had to visit the dentist her entire life.

  “Why are you looking at me so weirdly?” Glancing down the length of herself, Aileen
began to fidget. First her hair, then her baby blue dress, her shoes, her nails, until finally, she just gave up and ran to the mirror. One thing Jess did know about her daughter was that she was the vainest person she had ever known.

  “Honestly, Aileen…” Pouting her lips, which she had to confess were the only thing she seemed to have passed down to her eldest girl, Jess walked to the door, knowing full well Aileen was staring at her back. The ambiance air in the room suddenly felt suffocating, making the hair on the back of Jess’s neck. “Where is your father? I want to speak with him.” Her voice seemed one-hundred percent normal, but inside, her stomach was doing loops, forcing bile to rise.

  “I just saw him leaving for work,” Aileen answered without hesitation. “Why does he always have to work this early?”

  “He doesn’t always have to,” Jess answered, thinking, he’s back to his normal self? Thank god!

  “I’m hungry,” Aileen said.

  Jess peeked into Lizzie room to see her still sleeping baby, then followed her daughter, descending the stairs, avoiding a glance into the room where she had met…him…who was he? What was he? And what did he want? And, why had Aileen not been afraid, and why was she now acting as if nothing had occurred?

  “Was I dreaming?” Jess asked herself. “It was just a terrible dream, Jess.”

  “That is the first sign of madness, you know,” Aileen joked as she took a chair opposite her mother in the kitchen, watching as she filled the coffeepot with water.

  “What is?”

  “Talking to yourself in the third person.”

  “Is that right?” Jess’s smile came naturally. “What is the second sign, then?”

  “Answering yourself.”

  “You really are your father’s daughter,” Jess replied with a chuckle.

  Aileen muttered, “Whatever…” adding, “you weren’t dreaming, you know.” Her voice sounded weird to Jess.

  “I wasn’t dreaming? What do you mean?”

  “You do realize how grateful you should be to have been picked? Can you even fathom what he gave up for you?”

  “Aileen, what on earth are you talking about?”

  “Oh shut up!” The voice was not Aileen’s at all now. “I mean look at you! You are weak, growing older by the second, but for some unknown reason, he seems to see potential in you, if only as a breeder.” Revulsion shone all over Aileen’s features as the word ‘breeder’ left her mouth. “But don’t worry, I am about to change that.”

  Jess leaped for the backdoor, only just as she grabbed the doorknob, an appallingly unpleasant sensation ran throughout her body, flowing all the way through her very veins until there was nothing, but absolute darkness, terror, behind a wall of emotion and heat. She turned away, running toward the staircase. She had to get to the safety of her bedroom! But she didn’t make it. She fell to the floor at the bottom of the stairs, shaking, shivers running wildly over her whole body.

  Aileen ran a manicured finger over her bottom lip. “I think it is time we to get this show on the road, don’t you?” Laughing at her reflection as Aileen, appreciating Aileen’s beauty – reflected back at Sekhet from the hallway mirror – Sekhet couldn’t help but take in the woman on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. “You were not completely useless, I suppose.”

  Glancing at her reflection in the mirror again, Sekhet nodded in appreciation; she liked being Aileen. Her only complaint was, “Your tush is inadequately flat, to my liking, anyway. You really should take advantage of the assistance your father could give you. I am sure he would help. If you ask nicely.”

  Placing both her hands on a well-curved waist, Sekhet’s mind went back to Jess. Glancing toward the floor, she thought, what did he actually see in her? They had been soul mates from the beginning of time, Sekhet and Scurlock. He had adored her beyond reason.

  “What did you do to change that?” she asked the comatose Jess. Now, Sekhet’s red eyes began to glow. Breathing a low growl of disgust, she walked calmly back into the kitchen, opened a drawer, grabbed the biggest knife she could get her hands on, and without hesitation, walked back to where Jess lay, stabbing it mercilessly into Jess’s neck.

  Jess’s eyes snapped open with a jolt! A strangled shriek came from her lips. “Aileen!”

  Sekhet snarled.

  Blood spurted everywhere as Jess fought for her life. As life drained from Jess, Sekhet gloried in her suffering, her horror, the feeling of drowning in her own life blood as it seeped from her mouth, dripping down the length of her neck, her hair.

  Scratching desperately, Jess made one final effort against the strength of what she thought was her daughter gone mad. Then Jess coughed out one last mouthful of blood, her body going limp, leaving Sekhet delirious. It was like paradise and she had no intention of rushing the thrill a kill brought with it, but she had been too violent – Jess was already gone.

  CHAPTER 22

  Loose Ends

  “We have a problem!” It was Natasha, standing off to the side, slightly to the right, hiding just enough not to be seen.

  Joe sprang from the bed, naked as the day he was born. Standing directly in front of the window, he froze but not without uttering, “Oh shit!”

  Molly, glancing over his shoulder out the window, repeated the exact words he had uttered not two seconds before. “Oh shit! What the hell is she doing here?”

  “How the hell did she know where to come?” Joe asked, grabbing a blanket to cover himself in spite of the pain to his burned skin. Feeling faint, Joe sank back down on the bed.

  “Who is she?” Natasha asked, no longer feeling the necessity of concealing herself.

  “She’s Victor’s overly suspicious girlfriend…or whatever he wants to call her these days,” Molly replied acidly as she put her sweater back on, still not comfortable in front of Natasha wearing a white tank top when clearly her bra was the wrong color. “Where the hell is Victor?”

  Natasha’s shoulder shrug gave her the answer she wasn’t wanting.

  “Well, isn’t that just great! Not only is my mother floating around the house, we have a Hell Demon here and I have no idea of her whereabouts, my grandmother is still dusting on the off chance someone may visit, Victor is gone walkabout and now this judgmental psychologist is at the door? Fabulous.”

  Natasha’s face gave the impression of a comedian about to throw out her show-stopper line in a bid to get the final laugh of the night, but Molly, having sometimes been on the receiving end of Natasha’s temper, would do anything to stop her.

  “Woo-hoo, is anyone here?”

  The voice traveled like the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard, making Molly grind her teeth. “I’ll deal with this,” she said, stomping from the room.

  “Don’t worry,” Natasha said, slapping Joe on the rear, “you’re not my type.” She shadowed Molly down the stairs, arriving just as Molly opened the door to a glowering woman who, it was unmistakably clear, had no fondness for the young witch.

  “Olivia…” Molly began, only to be interrupted by Veronica’s shout for assistance in locating Victor’s box of secrets.

  “Come on!” Veronica bellowed, growing agitated by the lack of resources. “I mean, how many people are in this house, and still not one person can help me out? It’s not like I’m about to raise the…” stopping just before the last word escaped her throat, she was faced with a wide-eyed Molly, and then Natasha, who looked as though she was about to cast. A simple stillness spell was indisputably needed, but that didn’t stop Veronica from throwing a stormy look Natasha’s way, for good measure.

  “Ladies,” Molly began with a strained smile, “this is Olivia, Victor’s girlfriend.” Moving out of the way marginally, Molly enabled them both to say a quick “nice to meet you” before Natasha hurried away to tell Dot there was a visitor.

  “Where is he?” Olivia demanded.

  “I have no idea,” Molly replied with a glance at her fingernails, which at this moment she was glad weren’t any longer.

 
“You really expect me to believe that?”

  “I do, as it happens,” Molly said, “because it happens to be true.”

  “Well, I don’t believe you!”

  “Well, Olivia, I don’t care.”

  “Olivia?”

  “Joe?”

  Joe was coming down the stairs with heavy, tired steps, yawning, arms outstretched over his head for that additional display of not a care in the world attitude. He was in sweatpants and long-sleeved T-shirt, clothes borrowed from Molly after Joe’s clothes had been incinerated, compliments of Sekhet. He was hoping everything he had gone through the night before wasn’t showing all over his face or anywhere on his body.

  The fact was, Joe knew Olivia had to leave, for her own safety, and if really Victor wasn’t here, Joe had to make sure Olivia believed this.

  “I didn’t realize you were here,” Olivia stuttered. Suddenly she wasn’t so sure about her decision to arrive on Molly’s grandmother’s front door step. “I was just looking for Victor.”

  “Honestly, Olivia,” Joe said, wrapping his arms around Molly, “I have no idea where he is.”

  Seeing Joe with Molly, kissing her neck and producing a playful snarling noise from her, Olivia felt that maybe, just maybe Victor had always been telling her the truth about his relationship with Molly. She shouldn’t have come. It was a gamble Olivia had taken, to come here looking for Victor. A gamble she had just come to suspect she had lost.

  “You want coffee?” Joe asked, just as Dot made her appearance.

  Flour splashed with expert positioning on the brand new apron she was wearing, Dot shooed the new lovers away from the door. For once, Molly didn’t care what Olivia thought of her, and one thing was certain, she was not going to let Olivia ruin her good mood, now that Joe was okay, considering the night she had had.

  “Forgive them,” Dot said in a gentle tone. “Young love. Oh, excuse me.” Dusting off her hand before stretching it out, she said, “I was just baking for our bunch. Family get together.” Again, the smile that said trust me, I’m the trustworthy grandmother. “Always seems like a good idea until you have to feed them. What was your name again, dear?”