The End Of Desire: A Rowan Gant Investigation

by M. R. Sellars

  I could tell by the look on her face that she had run directly into a wall of regret the moment the last word flew from her mouth. I paused, trying to think of what I should say. My delay in responding didn’t seem to help the matter because she hung her head and stared at the floor.

  “You have me there,” I finally returned. “I think that just might get their attention.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Rowan,” she said.

  “I know it isn’t,” I replied softly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you.”

  “No… I’m the one who should be sorry,” she muttered, turning back to the stove without looking at me. “I shouldn’t have just blurted that out. You’re probably having enough trouble with it already… Especially after what you’ve been through.”

  “What I’ve been through?” I asked, a bit of incredulity creeping into my voice. “You’re worried about me?”

  “Of course,” she mumbled. “And… I’m worried about us.”

  I placed my coffee cup on the counter then stepped over to her. Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I gave her a gentle squeeze. Her body was rigid, and I could feel the tension knotted up inside her.

  “Aren’t we a pair?” I mumbled. “Me worrying about you, you worrying about me, us worrying about us, and neither of us accomplishing anything other than driving ourselves nuts…”

  “Pathetic, isn’t it?” she whispered.

  “No… I’m pretty sure it’s just what makes us who we are,” I whispered in her ear. “And, just so you know, us is fine, sweetheart.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive,” I replied. “And, I seem to recall we’ve had this talk before. Your proclivities in that area didn’t come as a big surprise, and they aren’t a problem. You never needed to keep it a secret, especially for so long.”

  “There were times I almost told you,” she said in a low voice.

  “Well, you finally did and it’s all good. You had nothing to worry about. You’re just going to have to be patient with me.”

  “About what?”

  “That particular game. I’ve never played it, so you’re going to have to fill me in on the rules.”

  “Aye, so I haven’t so totally freaked you out that you’re going to leave me?”

  “Do you really think you can get rid of me that easily?”

  After a moment she whispered, “I love you.”

  “And I love you right back. Warts and all, my little repressed dominatrix Witch.”

  I felt her beginning to relax, and I gave her another reassuring squeeze.

  “Why don’t you get out a couple of plates,” she said. “Breakfast will be done as soon as I scramble some eggs.”

  “You got it,” I replied.

  A moment later, as I was digging silverware from the drawer, I glanced over at her and said, “Dog collar, huh? So, would I have to bark?”

  She didn’t look over at me, but even in profile I saw the corner of her mouth turn up as she said, “Only when I tell you to.”

  Tuesday, December 6

  9:07 P.M.

  Baton Rouge, Louisiana

  CHAPTER 20:

  Darkness had become light, and light had become darkness once again.

  Annalise hugged herself tightly as she lay naked in the empty bathtub. It had started out filled with hot water—as hot as she could bear it in fact. But that had been almost an hour ago. She had long since drained it but hadn’t been able to bring herself to climb out.

  Her first emotion had been fear, but that had quickly given way to confusion. The man, Rowan, had called her by name. He said they knew. But, how could they? How could they possibly know she was the one responsible for all the things she had done? The only answer that would come to her tortured mind was—Saint Louis.

  At least she was safe from them for now. Annalise Devereaux didn’t live here. Behind these walls, she was someone else.

  But, there was someone who knew where she was. She always knew. And, from Her she could never be safe.

  Annalise let out a low moan and shivered as she tried to curl into an even tighter ball. The air in the room was cool against her skin where her still damp hair laid in twisted strands across her shoulders and back. She had finally found the energy to pull a towel down from the rack and was using it as a makeshift blanket, but it wasn’t enough to completely cover her.

  She knew she should get out, dry off, and change into some clothes, but she didn’t have the strength. This had been going on for five days, and the increasingly hotter baths had become her only refuge. But now, they were no longer working. Simply moving was a struggle, and it only seemed to be getting worse.

  Miranda was being a bitch.

  The desire had been welling in Annalise for too many days now, but Miranda wasn’t talking. And, without Miranda, she had no way to appeal to Ezili for comfort.

  She was forsaken.

  She was being punished.

  At first, the tickle had been a pleasurable annoyance, but that pleasure didn’t last for long. Miranda never came to her. She knew she was there in the shadows, waiting.

  Watching her, but never touching.

  Never joining.

  Never making her whole.

  Very soon the tickle became the all-consuming itch, but still Miranda only watched. As always, with the itch came the need, and the need remained unfulfilled. Without Miranda, Annalise could only go so far. Miranda was in control of the gift, and it was being purposely withheld.

  Annalise had been denied any form of release, and that just made the need stronger. And as it grew, the need soon became an ache.

  No matter what she did, or how she tried to quell the fire on her own, it remained. Blazing through her body like a rampant fever. And now, the ache had turned to blinding pain.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she whimpered aloud, her voice thin and cracking. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked…”

  She felt her plea was falling on deaf ears. Ezili could not hear her, and Miranda was the hand of punishment. She didn’t care that Annalise was suffering. It was exactly what She wanted. Besides, She wasn’t being denied. She was taking her own pleasure in Annalise’s torment.

  It all came back to Saint Louis. She had tasted the fresh sweetness of the other. The one called Felicity. But, that sweetness had suddenly been taken away.

  Someone had to pay, and that someone was Annalise.

  On the heels of her whimper, the pain intensified. She knew Miranda was testing her to see just how much she could take—and delighting in every moment of her pain. She would have cried if her body had been able to produce tears, but they had long since run out. She could only close her eyes and whine.

  “Everything,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “Everything you’ve asked…”

  She held no expectation of a reply other than the sound of her own dry sobbing, as it had been her only answer each time she asked. Even so, she simply didn’t have the energy to be surprised when the familiar voice finally echoed inside her head.

  “No…” Miranda said. “Not everything…”

  Wednesday, December 7

  4:19 P.M.

  Saint Louis, Missouri

  CHAPTER 21:

  Ben and I were standing on the front porch of my house. Even though it was cold, something about being inside right at this moment made me feel closed in. Trapped. Even though he was my friend, I couldn’t help but feel cornered by him right now. I’m not certain that being out here really made that much difference in the way I felt, but I would take anything I could get.

  We stood in silence for a moment. The frosty air moved around us on a gentle breeze, making the wind chimes in front of me tinkle lightly. I reached out and gently grasped the cold metal tubes, causing them to fall silent once again.

  “The Feebs coordinated with NOLA PD on that homicide. Got a definite match on the hair found at the scene,” he offered.

  “That’s good,” I said, as I carefully let go
of the chimes.

  “They’ve been watchin’ the cemetery, but so far she hasn’t showed.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Theory is she’s too spooked to go back right now.”

  I still kept my mouth shut. I heard my friend sigh hard then shuffle in place. After a long pause he spoke again. “They think maybe they’ve connected a couple of unsolved homicides from last year too. All homeless types. Jury’s still out on ‘em though, ‘cause they don’t have the exact signature she’s usin’ with her victims now. But, enough shit matched up ta’ make ‘em wonder. The behavioral guys at Feeb central are checkin’ it out.”

  I remained shrouded in my self-imposed reticence, simply staring out across the yard.

  “You even listenin’ to me?” Ben finally asked.

  “Yeah. I’m listening,” I replied.

  “But ya’ ain’t talkin’.”

  “No. I’m not.”

  “Look, Row, I’m tryin’ ta’ tell ya’ she’s gone completely off radar.”

  “I pretty much got that, Ben.”

  “Okay. So, I’m lookin’ for help. Got any la-la land happenin’? You wanna throw me a bone here?”

  I glanced in his direction. “I think you already know the answer to that question.”

  He huffed out an exasperated breath then stared into the yard for a moment. Eventually, his hand moved up to smooth back his hair then slide down to rest on his neck.

  “C’mon Row… You seen anything at all? A nightmare? Ya’know, any kinda spooky shit that might give us some insight on this?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t believe ya’.”

  “That’s your prerogative.”

  “Jeezus…” he muttered. “This ain’t some kinda game, White Man.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that, Ben. I know it isn’t.”

  “Well, would ya’ tell me if ya’ did see somethin’?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What kinda answer is that?”

  “The best I can give you right now.”

  “Okay. So the Feebs dug up some background on ‘er,” he said, as he dropped his hand down and sent it inside the folds of his coat to retrieve his notebook. “Think that might help jog some Twilight Zone stuff?”

  “Don’t bother, Ben. I don’t want to hear it.”

  He stopped with the notebook halfway out of the inner pocket, stood there for a moment, and then stuffed it back in with a heavy breath to punctuate his frustration.

  “What’s gotten inta’ you?”

  “A little bit of sense maybe.”

  “Come on, Row…” he eventually mumbled.

  “Besides, the way I understand it I’ve been banned from this case… And, any other investigations for that matter.”

  “Technically, yeah, but I’m just tryin’ ta’ keep ya’ in the loop. What they don’t know ain’t gonna hurt ‘em.”

  “It’s not them I’m worried about.”

  “You really aren’t gonna talk about it, are ya’?”

  “No.”

  “What’s the real reason?”

  “In case you don’t recall, I quit.”

  “Bullshit. That’s what you said, but you didn’t mean it.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “I’m not going to have this argument with you.” I shook my head for emphasis. “Shouldn’t you be happy about this, Chief? For years you’ve been telling me to stay out of everything. Let the cops do the cop stuff, I believe is what you said. Well, you’ve convinced me. I’m letting you cops do your jobs. I’m not getting involved.”

  “You already are, Row.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “So you’re sayin’ you’ve just switched off the Twilight Zone shit, and that’s the end of it? I thought you said it doesn’t work like that.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” I muttered.

  “So then you do still see shit, don’tcha?”

  “Only if I look,” I said then paused before adding, “And, I try not to.”

  “Yeah, but you do anyway. I know you.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Then what is?”

  “Not what. More like, who.”

  “Felicity?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So, Firehair wants you to quit?”

  “She didn’t come right out and say it. Not lately anyway. But, she’s good with the decision, and that’s really all that matters.”

  He exhaled a long, slow breath. “You blame me, don’t ya’? Both of ya’ do.”

  “No, we don’t.”

  “You gotta. I got ya’ into all this when I came to ya’ about the Tanner homicide.”

  “No.” I shook my head, again using the exaggerated motion to punctuate my answer. “What you did was ask me some simple questions about WitchCraft and Wicca. I’m the one who got myself in too deep. I’m the one who let it take over my life.”

  “So, what’re ya’ gonna do?”

  “Take my life back.”

  “Yeah, sounds good in theory, but I mean what about the Twilight Zone stuff. If you still see the crap then what’re ya’ gonna do?”

  “I’ll just have to live with the nightmares.”

  “Do ya’ really think you can?”

  “I already do, Ben. Every single day.”

  “Yeah, but can ya’ live with the thought of not doin’ somethin’ about what ya’ see?”

  Once again, I didn’t answer. Instead I just looked away and stared out across the lawn.

  Ben pressed on. “Okay, so, what about Firehair? She sees shit too.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “But…”

  “There aren’t any but’s,” I interrupted. “Face it. You don’t need me. All I ever do is visualize the horrors that sick, twisted people exact upon others. It’s not like I can make them stop what they’re doing. I wish to hell I could, but I can’t.”

  “That’s not true, Rowan,” he offered with a shake of his head. “You’ve helped stop the bastards more than once. You’ve saved innocent lives.”

  “Tell that to Randy and Starr,” I spat, blatantly naming the two members of Felicity’s coven who had been tortured and murdered by a serial killer bent on my demise. His primary reason for what he did to them was so that he could draw me out into the open, and I’d been living with that guilt ever since.

  “That wasn’t your fault.”

  “Your sister keeps telling me the same thing. Maybe someday I’ll fool myself into believing it too.”

  “You’re bein’ too hard on yourself, White Man.”

  I let out a sarcastic chuckle that I simply couldn’t contain. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Come again?”

  “Forget everyone else for a second, and take a good look at me, Ben. I’m a fucking wreck. Felicity isn’t much better. She just hides it better than me. And, the real truth is she’d be just fine if it wasn’t for me.”

  “How do ya’ figure?”

  “Easy. For six years I’ve let magick control me instead of the other way around. And, because of that screw up, I brought all the crap down on her as well. I’m supposed to live by the rule of harm none… Well, I haven’t been doing a very good job of it… It’s time for me to stop. Stop hurting her, and stop hurting myself. End of story.”

  “Ya’ really think any of that’s gonna change if ya’ keep everything bottled up inside?”

  “I don’t know, but I have to try.”

  “You aren’t selfish like that, Row.”

  “Maybe it’s time I started being a little selfish.”

  “It ain’t you… Listen, I…” Before my friend could get the rest of the sentence out of his mouth, his cell phone trilled. “Jeez… Hold on a sec…”

  He dug the device out of his coat pocket, flipped it open, and then pressed it up to his ear. “Yeah, this is Storm… Uh-huh… Yeah… Yeah, I’m gonna be there… Yeah, just talkin’ ta’ Row… Yeah, about
work… Dammit, Al, let’s not go there… I’m serious… Yeah, I said I’d be there… Uh-huh… Okay, I will… Later.”

  After folding the phone and stuffing it back into his pocket, he looked over at me with a mildly pained expression. “That was Allison,” he said, referring to his ex-wife.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Other than the fact that she’s still pissed at me for ever draggin’ you inta’ this sorta shit? No, not really. The offspring’s in a school play tonight, and I promised ta’ be there, so I gotta go in just a bit. Oh, and she said ta’ tell you hi.”

  “Tell both of them hi for us.”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that,” he replied then paused. “Look, Row… If ya’ happen ta’ do that la-la thing… Ya’know, if ya’ go all Twilight Zone and see somethin’…”

  I cut him off before he could finish the thought. “I wouldn’t wait by the phone, Ben, because I won’t be calling. Not about that. I’m serious. I’m done.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Okay. But, if ya’ change your mind…”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.” I switched the subject before he could press me again. “Before you go, are you and Constance doing anything the seventeenth?”

  “Dunno, why?”

  “Felicity and I were wondering if you two might be up for dinner or something.”

  “Yeah, maybe. I’ll check.”

  “Just dinner with friends. Nice and normal. No shop talk.”

  “Yeah, I get it.”

  “Just let us know.”

  “I will. Okay… Well… Guess I’d better get goin’.”

  “Look, Ben… I’m sorry…”

  “Don’t be,” he breathed. “You’re right. You didn’t sign up for this shit, it just kinda happened to ya’. It ain’t your problem.”

  “Thanks for understanding.”

  “Yeah. No problem.”

  I could tell he wasn’t happy with the situation, but at the same time I also knew he didn’t truly fault me for the decision.

  “So, I’ll talk to you later?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Later.”

  He started to leave, but before he reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned and looked back up at me. “Oh, by the way. Speakin’ of Constance, she’s been checkin’ on that thing for ya’. You know, the secret Feeb call to the NOLA PD.”