Symphony of Light and Winter

by Renea Mason

  The tickling started at my ribs, continuing without mercy.

  I gasped for air between cries of laughter. “All right…all right! I give up! I’m compelled to love you until the spell is broken. You can keep your angst and guilt. But in the meantime, I am here, and until further notice, very much in love. What do you plan to do about it? “

  I didn’t even register leaving the stool before my back slammed onto the bed. He loomed over me, his pelvis pressed tightly against mine.

  “I’ll be such a spectacular lover, even when you come to your senses you won’t be able to leave me. I’ll win your heart while I fuck you senseless night after night.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  * * *

  We made love all morning. Not the frenzied passion of the night before, but slow and tender. Every touch communicated his love for me. It made the day harder to carry out.

  I needed to do it. The plan had run through my mind a million times since my meeting with Lance. I had to do it for Olivia and Cyril. As long as I lived with him, I was ammunition for Michael, and the longer he remained undistracted, the closer he came to a way to destroy Cyril. If Cyril’s description of his purpose here on Earth was accurate, I owed it to the world to save him.

  My hope was to find a way to sabotage Michael from the inside out. I’d go willingly. I’d play my part until I was able to find a way to stop him. My betrayal would hurt Cyril because I would leave without protest, but I had to have faith that if in the end we were to ever be reunited, he would find a way to forgive me. Grabbing the sheet, I rose from the bed.

  “Don’t go.” He held onto the end of the sheet, keeping me from dragging it with me.

  “I have to.” I leaned forward and kissed him. “I do still have a job.”

  “Can’t it wait? It’s Sunday. Plus…” He groaned as he rolled away from me and leaned off the bed. When he sat back up he had a black satin box in his hand. He handed it to me.

  “What’s this?”

  “Did you think I forgot your birthday?”

  I blushed like a schoolgirl as he placed the box in my hand. I forgot it was my birthday. I stopped acknowledging it the night everything fell apart.

  “Go ahead, open it.”

  I shot him a look of apprehension and cracked open the lid. Inside, on a pillow of red velvet lay a beautiful necklace. The transparent orb hung loose in an encasement of three delicate tendrils of woven vines. At the top of the pendant, the vines formed a loop that held a chain from which the charm was suspended. It was beautiful.

  He took the box from my hand and removed the necklace. Placing the necklace around my neck, he secured the clasp.

  “I have a confession to make.”

  “What?” I asked as I rolled the pendant between my fingers.

  “I destroyed something that belonged to you in a fit of rage.”

  “Huh?”

  “The necklace Michael gave you. It no longer exists. It was made from the same substance as the creatures he carved for you. Since it was part of him, your body rejected it. Your body knows you belong to me. I’m surprised you didn’t suffer greatly from copulating with him.”

  “I did suffer greatly. I thought it was some kind of disease. Every test turned up nothing. It took a month to clear up. It was awful. Now it all makes sense. I really wish you had given me some kind of warning.”

  “I never meant for you to suffer. I hoped to come back and be with you, but desperation made me a fool.” He was right. He had a way of fucking things up and that’s why I couldn’t involve him in the exchange with Lance. He’d be irrational and he might inadvertently bring forth the Apocalypse.

  “I’m not mad about the necklace. I had every intention of getting rid of it. Where did you get this? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “I made it. I know your fondness for handmade things.”

  “Is there anything you can’t do?”

  “I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

  “You’ll have to forgive me for asking, but this isn’t made from any bodily fluids, is it?”

  He laughed. “No, it’s a stone. I don’t need to decorate your neck with my essences when you’re already wearing it.” He cupped me between the legs. “Every time you grow wet, you’ll think of me and what I did to you. You will grow wet, I assure you. If you insist on going to work, you may regret it a few hours from now when I’m not there to ease the ache. You might be underestimating the power of my gift.”

  “Are you saying I’ll be so horny I won’t be able to function?”

  He shot a wicked smile. “It’s possible. If it gets to be too much, I’ll make an office visit. Just call me. Hmmmm…”

  “What’s the hmmm about?

  “Oh, nothing. Just picturing leaning you over that mahogany desk of yours, bunching your skirt around your waist, pushing your panties aside and fucking you so hard that I’d have to cover your mouth with my hand to keep you from screaming while your desire drips all over your office floor.”

  I shivered. I swallowed hard and tried to speak. “Wow.” My face flushed with heat. “I’ll try to manage. Thank you for the necklace. It’s really beautiful. Very thoughtful of you.”

  I turned to kiss him and hoped he would not feel the good-bye on my lips.

  “Let me drive you.”

  “No, it’s OK. You look busy here.” I glanced around the room at the items scattered about. “By the way, why did you steal my notebook?” Picking it up from the table, I shook it at him.

  “I know how you like to journal and wondered if you had written about our encounter.”

  I was about to say you could have asked, but the truth was I would never have complied.

  “Besides, returning it would have given me another excuse to come see you. Let me at least clear the driveway so you can get to the road. I don’t trust your car in this snow.”

  “Me neither. You have a snowplow?”

  “Not exactly. But I do have a way of melting it.”

  “I’m not going to ask. Go. Do your thing and let me get dressed.” Another quick kiss and he left the bed in search of clothes.

  When he was out of sight, I went to the journal and opened it to a random page. He had once called it The Book of Good Things. The last time I wrote in it I asked for him to come back to me and he did. Maybe…

  Cyril,

  I do not leave to hurt you, but rather to protect you. If you ever find this please know I hope my success is swift and we will be together again as soon as possible, whether it be in this life or the next.

  I love you.

  Linden

  Please forgive me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Soulless

  The snow dissipated as I descended the mountain and soon encountered the city streets covered in cold, newly fallen rain. My heart thumped in my throat the entire drive. I called Clarence and told him I’d be by to pick him up, and was going to meet Lance an hour later than we agreed. I had no intention of following through with that plan. I already screwed up his world; I wouldn’t put Clarence in danger too. I planned on being long gone before he could be involved in any of it.

  I didn’t park in my usual spot but rather in the garage under the hall reserved for roadies and equipment vehicles. With a deep breath, I turned the key and opened the door. There was no point in grabbing my belongings. I wasn’t coming back.

  I didn’t go to my office. It wouldn’t be my office any longer. I felt confident Overton, of all people, would understand my actions, and see the symphony got what it needed to survive. Under Clarence’s leadership, everything would be fine. At least that’s what I needed to believe.

  I unlocked the front doors for Lance, and then walked into the concert hall. After flipping on the lights to illuminate the stage, I walked with slow, determined steps. Not knowing how things would end, the possibilities were many degrees of horrible. Walking in a silent reverence, I awaited my fate.

  The piano
was still center stage from the last performance. Playing would serve two purposes—to calm my nerves, and alert Lance to where he could find me.

  I finished the second movement of the third piece when the rear doors of the hall opened. Lance escorted Olivia, whose head hung forward causing her long, straight black hair to obscure her face. I stopped playing and the notes drifted through the hall with a finality that mirrored the moment.

  “How do you want to do this, Linden?” Lance shouted from the back of the auditorium.

  “I’ll give her my keys. You’ll give her time to get to the car and get away, and then I’ll go with you willingly.”

  “So, you’re not going to give up Cyril?”

  “No.”

  “That’s a shame. I rather liked you. I don’t know what Michael is going to do to you.”

  “Let me worry about that. Olivia, are you OK?”

  As she strode closer, the bruises on her cheeks became visible. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes were accented by deep grayish circles. “I’m fine. I just want to go home.” She wrapped her arms around herself as though for protection.

  They both walked up the makeshift stairs to the stage.

  “Here, take these. My car is parked in receiving. No one should bother you. Go home.” I wanted to be angry with the woman in front of me, but her small frame clothed in a pink ruffled shirt and Juicy Couture pants reminded me of the little girl Mr. Landon dropped off in my office years ago. It quenched my hostility at least for the moment. I held out the keys.

  She took them from my hand and shot Lance a sheepish look, then returned her sights to me. Her eyes pleaded, but I didn’t have time to hash things out.

  “Go.” I pointed backstage.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know. We’ll talk about it later. Now, go!”

  She ran, never looking back.

  I stood with Lance and the silence between us was awkward.

  He spoke and the echo amplified his soft words. “How long do we need to wait?”

  “Until I hear the doors close. I have a remote in the car. Olivia knows where it is.”

  When I heard the final click of the door, I turned to Lance. “Well, that’s it. You’re going to have to drive. My ride just left.”

  He chuckled. “I really wish you would have given him up.”

  “A bit easier said than done.”

  Just as Lance placed his first foot on the stairs, the rear doors flew open.

  Oh, no!

  “I thought you didn’t tell him.” I stabbed Lance in the ribs with my finger.

  He mumbled, “Ouch. I didn’t.”

  “Where is he?” The voice echoed through the hall. It was disturbing to see Michael again, but even more shocking was who he had with him.

  “Aunt Eva?” I said in a whisper.

  “What the fuck?” Lance grumbled and descended the remaining stairs, leaving me alone on the stage.

  So she didn’t die. Fucking Michael! How could I have been so stupid? Cyril made Eva! Of course she didn’t die.

  Michael held her hands behind her back and shoved her forward between the rows of red velvet seats.

  “Where is he?” Michael shouted again.

  “Michael, what are you doing here?” Lance crossed in front of the stage meeting Michael halfway.

  “Better question, Lance, is what are you doing here?” Michael looked up and saw me, standing literally in the spotlight. “Oh, should I be suspicious that you’re alone with my wife?”

  Arrogant prick.

  “I was just about to bring her to you.” Lance’s explanation was short-lived as Michael let go of Eva and grabbed Lance by the hand. Lance cried out in pain.

  “Don’t you move,” Michael commanded Eva, and then focused his attention back on Lance.

  “Is that right? Why didn’t I know about this little meeting of yours? Are you keeping things from me?” Michael squeezed Lance’s hand harder and Lance’s grimace grew more pronounced.

  “You were so upset the other woman wasn’t Linden. I found her for you and negotiated a trade. She’s yours, Michael.”

  Well, wasn’t that convenient.

  “Watch her,” Michael demanded as he let go of Lance and pushed him toward Eva. Eva said nothing, showing no response.

  Michael’s stride held a confidence that fueled the anxiety-laden tightness in my chest. He crossed in front of the stage, never breaking eye contact, then ascended the stairs to stand before me. “Linden, oh Linden, I did choose well. You are quite beautiful. You even have her skin. Have you missed me, my sweet?”

  “Not exactly.” Crossing my arms, I stood my ground. I refused to show any sign of weakness.

  Seeing Michael under the lights of the stage, I realized why Olivia had been such a fool. The resemblance between Michael and Harmon Mathews, Olivia’s weakness, was remarkable. No wonder she pretended to be me. She found out Harmon’s wife was pregnant again, and then Michael presented himself.

  I once found comfort in Michael’s familiarity, but the intense rage that whitened my knuckles, fueled by his treatment of Cyril, was the only emotion I held for him now.

  “What’s this?” He moved in closer to me and sniffed the air. “Oh, my dear. What have you been up to? Have you been sleeping with the enemy?” His mouth drifted close to my neck.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Oh, but it is, wife. I own you.”

  “I remember us trying to make things work, Michael, and you ended up dead. Care to fuck me again?”

  He backed away enough to stare at me. “Oh, you think you’re the mortal fuck? Is that it? Sweetheart, it was your blood, not your snatch. That bastard gave you his blood. He’s made of her essence, and she forbade us from biting her so we wouldn’t gain her powers. To dissuade us she made her blood poisonous. All because Vidius, the fool, went for her throat. So I’m sorry to disappoint you again. You can rest assured I’ll never bite you, but fucking you is an entirely different matter, wife.”

  “Funny, I’d think you were above sloppy seconds.”

  He ignored my comment. “The moment she created me, Linden, she had no need for Cyril. Did you know that?” Michael’s arrogance was astounding.

  “Didn’t she make five more? You were so good, she tried five more times?”

  “But she always came back to me.”

  “Whatever. Is it true you think I’m her?”

  “I think you will be.”

  “Dare I ask?”

  “The first step is to get the British prick to show up with the knife.”

  “Who? Overton?”

  “Yes. I told him I would return something Cyril lost if he brought me the knife.”

  “What did he lose?”

  He motioned toward Eva still standing in the aisle with Lance holding her elbow.

  “How do you even know he has the knife you want?” I raised an eyebrow, finding it hard to believe Overton would cooperate for my long-lost aunt.

  “Lance said he saw you with a book that made him ill. That could only be one book. If Cyril brought the book with him, I know he has the knife.”

  “Why do you want it?”

  “It was hers and I can use it to force your transformation.”

  “Michael, I hate to tell you this, but I’m no goddess.”

  A creak of the rear doors forced our attention to the back wall. Overton stepped through the doorway, followed by Cyril.

  Michael bellowed, “I told you to come alone!”

  Overton’s amused tone could not be mistaken. “Michael, if that’s what you are calling yourself these days, you are such an insufferable sod. Did you honestly think I’d betray him?”

  “I thought you would want to play the hero and deliver him long-lost Auntie. He’d be thankful and distracted.”

  “Arrogance always was your weakness, Michael. Always assuming,” Cyril said as he made his way to the stage. “In fact, isn’t that why she made you? I was too much her reflection. I wasn’t permitted to
be charming because she rendered me an automaton for fear I might kill her—much too big a risk for her. She wanted charisma and entertainment, not power or challenge. She wanted to be wooed like a human woman by a human man. When she plucked you from Earth, you were quite the performer, were you not? A well-established bard who drank and charmed his way into the beds of women, many of them married. You were a charlatan then, just as you are now.” Cyril wasted no time navigating the aisle.

  “Oh, you don’t really have room to talk. Why do I smell you on my wife?”

  Cyril’s approach slowed. No eagerness in his steps, but rather calculation. “She’s not your wife. Couldn’t you sense my essence in her veins? I had already made my claim.”

  “It wasn’t you I sensed. Linden is the Goddess. The Goddess told me I would be the one to deliver her to earth. Can’t you see Cyril? It’s her! She’s come back to us.”

  “She is not, Michael. Are you going to continue to ramble or do you want to hear my proposal?”

  “I already have what I want. I won’t let you take her without a fight.” Michael grabbed me by the arm. I tried to pull away, but he was much too strong.

  “A fight you’ll lose since your backup is rather weak.” Cyril glanced back with a nod toward Lance and Eva. “Maybe I was under a mistaken impression, but I thought there might be something you wanted more than her.”

  “Other than wanting you fucking dead, and not dead temporarily? I can’t think of anything else.”

  “That’s my offer.”

  “You can’t be serious. You wouldn’t just give up.”

  “I’ve cursed Linden and I can’t see any other way to undo it. She means more to me than anything. I’ve taken away her free will, ruined her for anyone else, and cursed her to always be pursued by my family. Ending this is the only way.”

  “You are fucking kidding! Tell me you’re kidding! So fucking arrogant…stupid…” I ran at Cyril and slammed my outstretched hands into his chest. The motion would have shoved any other man, but he barely wavered.

  Michael grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back to him. “You’ll refrain from touching him, wife.”