Crimson Return (Fall of Venus)

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Crimson Return (Fall of Venus) Page 13

by Quinn, Daelynn


  “Oh, what I would love to do to you on this table,” Marcus whispers.

  “It will have to wait,” I say, pulling him back up. He tucks my panties into his back pocket.

  “I think I’ll hold on to these for a while,” his impish grin growing wider.

  Almost on cue, Orla abruptly enters, carting the ultrasound machine behind her. Her eyes dart to Marcus, still grinning devilishly.

  I scoot onto the table, while Marcus stands by my side opposite the machine. Marcus unfolds the paper blanket and lays it across my lap. There’s a knock at the door and it opens.

  “Good morning Miss McRae,” says Dr. Yipolis, and he nods briefly to Marcus, who returns a slight nod. “Looks like you’ve got a busy day today, so let’s get right to it.”

  I lay back on the table while Dr. Yipolis wheels his stool between my legs. Marcus shifts uncomfortably next to me. I can tell he doesn’t like what is going on. I don’t think he ever realized he had to share the vision of my lady parts with somebody else, especially a smoking hot doctor. I take his hand and squeeze reassuringly. He glances back at me, but the tension in his eyes doesn’t fade.

  Orla squeezes the blue goo onto the ultrasound wand and hands it to the doctor, who carefully inserts it. I watch Marcus as he squints at the screen.

  “There it is,” says Dr. Yipolis. “See that little flutter in the center? That’s the heartbeat.” The little blob has grown a little into an elongated peanut shape. In the center, the flesh ripples much faster than a typical heartbeat.

  Marcus’s eyes glisten as he gazes in awe at the monitor. The tension that clouded them a moment ago has vanished, leaving only the essence of unconditional love. He can’t take his eyes off the screen.

  Marcus shakes out of his trance when the doctor removes the wand, leaving only a blank screen. After handing the wand back to Orla, he takes another smooth, palm-sized contraption from the bottom shelf of the cart and squeezes the blue gel on it.

  “It might be a little early, but let’s see if we can hear the heartbeat.”

  He gently slides the hem of my dress off my belly, resting it just below my breasts, revealing the beginning of my slight baby bump. Marcus holds the paper blanket in place, more for his comfort than mine. The gooey gel is warm, wet, and soothing, like aloe vera gel after a charred sunburn. Dr. Yipolis glides the device around slowly, then stops when the static is broken by a quick, pulsating thump.

  Marcus inhales sharply. A single tear escapes from his eye as he gazes lovingly into my eyes. The musical beat of our baby’s living heart draws our souls together.

  “Oh, and Pollen, we have the results back from the amnio. Would you like to know the sex of the baby?”

  Keeping my eyes fixed on Marcus, I nod.

  “It’s a boy.”

  Marcus gasps and more tears rush down over his cheeks.

  “Thank you,” he says. “This is the best wedding gift I could ever hope for.”

  Chapter 18

  Take a deep breath, Pollen. This is it.

  Evie, Timber, and General Granby accompany me in a small office opposite the assembly hall. We could have used the chapel for the wedding, but Marcus and I liked Timber’s idea of making it a huge ceremony to cheer everyone up in the wake of our underground hibernation. She even put the announcement in the Ceborec newsletter to ensure everyone knew about it. The assembly hall is really the only place that can accommodate such a huge gathering.

  Evie peeks out the door while Timber adjusts my dress. The fabric skims my body, hugging every curve with alluring grace. It’s snug around my belly, which is already beginning to protrude. In the past, I would have been embarrassed and probably found a larger size dress to disguise it. But after this morning, I’m proud to wear my tiny baby bump. Marcus will love it. Timber ties a bronze colored cord around my waist and attaches Marcus’s wedding ring, a silver knotwork band that matches my ring, in the knot, allowing the loose ends of the cord to fall gently between my thighs.

  On my wrists I wear a pair of bronze cuffs, which intricately swirl up my forearms. A matching bronze choker wraps my neck with the same intricate design falling down my décolletage. My hair is swept up in about a dozen braids and pinned tightly to my head, with a few wispy tendrils framing my face. Tiny daisies tucked into the braids finish the look.

  “Everyone’s waiting,” Evie whispers. She looks darling in her sunshine yellow empire waist dress. Her hair is swept up like mine and she wears a crown of daisies and tiny red tea roses, to match the ones in her white basket.

  “Showtime,” Timber smiles. I look over at General Granby, who looks solemn, but content in his traditional black tuxedo, and I wonder if he’s thinking about his own daughter, who he’ll never get to walk down the aisle. He smiles gently and places his hands on my shoulders.

  “Thank you, Pollen.” I think that’s the first time he’s ever addressed me by my first name. Granby’s not an emotional man, but he really seems touched.

  “For what?”

  “For asking me to do this. You don’t know how much it means to me. You and Marcus—you are like family to me. I could see from the moment you two entered Ceborec you are meant for each other. And I wish you all the happiness this life can bring you.” Oh no, I can feel it coming. The pressure building up behind my eyes.

  “Granby, stop it. You’re going to make me cry,” I say, pulling my earlobe adorned with simple bronze studs.

  Granby gently kisses my forehead and says, “Are you ready?”

  I take a deep steadying breath. “I’ve been waiting for this day my whole life. Yes. I’m ready.”

  Timber opens the door and I follow her out, admiring her shimmering yellow gown. It’s simple, but elegant, and looks absolutely fantastic on her petite frame.

  Suddenly, I hear crashing footsteps tromping down the corridor towards us. It’s one of the Watchers who stand post at the entrance to the Web. I can’t remember his name, but I’ve seen him before.

  “Granby,” he calls out and we all stop and stare at him, one of the very few people not attending the wedding. “Granby, there’s a situation down below. We need you to come.”

  “Excuse me,” he says to me and pulls the Watcher aside, speaking too quietly for me to hear. Granby frowns and looks my way; a veil of regret hangs over his eyes.

  “Pollen. I’m so sorry, but I have to deal with this. Can you do this without me?”

  No, I can’t. My heart is broken. I really was looking forward to sharing this with Granby, the only father figure I know here. I nod, disappointed, but not willing to let anything ruin this day.

  “I’ll try to be back for the reception. Excuse me.” Then he and the Watcher jog down the corridor. I nervously watch as they shrink and disappear. I wonder what could be going on that the Watchers can’t handle on their own. No doubt we’ll find out later. But for now, I have a wedding to get to.

  I turn back, but Timber is missing. Where did she go? Evie stands and waits patiently, sniffing the daisies in her basket. A heartbeat later, Timber returns from the assembly hall, with Harrison, who is smartly dressed in a black suit, with red paisley tie. His streaked hair is neatly tied back, giving him the appearance of a cultured artist rather than an unkempt ammunitions dealer. I didn’t realize he could clean up so well. Even his piercings and the tattoos that peek up out of his collar look chic.

  “I hear you need someone to walk you down the aisle?” he asks.

  “You would do that for me?”

  “Well, I’m still jealous that Marcus got to you first. But to be honest, there’s no one else I’d rather lose you to.”

  I smile and wrap my arms around him. He even smells good, like cinnamon and clove.

  “Oh Harrison, thank you. You know you’ve always been like a brother to me.”

  Harrison makes an exaggerated gesture, grasping his heart and falling back. “Brother! Oh man. Well, you know if it doesn’t work out with Marcus, we could always pursue an incestuous relationship.”

 
My mouth plummets in shock. “Harrison, stop!” I playfully slap him away.

  “If you two are done, I’ve got a wedding to start,” Timber says, preparing to open the doors of the assembly hall. We recompose ourselves and stand in readiness.

  I hear the music begin to play. It’s a hauntingly beautiful piano nocturne played by our resident concert pianist, Hamric Benstarro. Timber probably treated him in the medical unit—that’s how she knows most residents here. In fact she has such a huge social circle that she insisted on planning a whole lavish wedding for me, a task I found entirely too daunting.

  Timber takes Evie’s hand and together they walk down the aisle side by side. Evie tosses the tiny daisies and red rose petals leaving a trail resembling a field of wildflowers.

  As I approach the entrance to the assembly hall I am enthralled. Timber went all out with her planning. I don’t even recognize the room. Guests are seated at round tables, each draped with white tablecloth and holding a centerpiece of white daisies and red roses encircling a large white candle dotted with bronze studs. Each table seats at least ten guests and I can’t even fathom how many tables there are at each side of the red carpet that leads to the dais at the end of the hall. Even the chairs themselves are draped with white slipcovers and tied back with wide shiny red ribbons, which hold a large daisy at the knot.

  The ambiance of this once cold and unfeeling hall is out of this world. It is dimly lit with tiny lights dangling from the ceiling. I gaze up to find that, much to my surprise, the tiny lights are actually shaped like infinity flies. Oh Timber, you are so clever. A symbol of our undying love.

  As Harrison slowly guides me down the aisle my eyes are drawn to the left side of the room, where the banquet is set up. A cake larger than Mount Baerstynn takes up most of the space with five lacy tiers, adorned with daisies and red roses, dotted with bronze beads, and topped with a golden sugar infinity fly. And just in case that is not enough to feed the crowd, two more three tiered cakes flank the sides.

  Continuing my journey down the aisle I can see that the entire facility is in attendance, except for the few Watchers standing guard at the entrances. And Granby, of course. I smile politely as I pass Dr. Yipolis and a lovely young lady I’ve never met, whom I can only assume is his girlfriend since she can’t keep her hands off him. Further up I spot Jansen and Yoric with some of the guys they usually hang out with. I snicker at the fact the Yoric is the only face in the room not staring at me now. He can’t take his eyes off Timber. In the front are the elites, the officers of the committee, Myra, Marley, and the others that are in charge here. Myra smiles and winks at me.

  Now, for the first time, I look up at the raised platform where Marcus stands gazing down at me. The backdrop is completely covered with foliage, giving it an lush, outdoor appearance. It even smells woodsy. Marcus stands under a white ivy-lined arbor, in his black tuxedo with an ivory vest. Behind him stands Nicron in a matching tuxedo, looking fit and happy as ever. Timber and Evie stand off to the side as I approach the arbor.

  As I turn to face him, Marcus drops his gaze to the ring dangling over my belly.

  “Ring-bearer?” he whispers. I nod and his eyes glaze over with tears. I’ve never seen him look so happy, apart from this morning during the ultrasound.

  I can’t believe it. I’m finally here. I’m going to marry the love of my life and we’re going to be a real family with a child of our own. My life is perfect. I only wish my parents and Drake could be here to share this with me.

  From behind the arbor the minister, who I didn’t even know was there, steps forward. I’ve never met him before, since I never attend mass at the chapel. He’s a short stout man with combed over hair that is either blond or gray or a mix of both. It’s hard to see in the dim light. He wears all black with a purple scarf draped over his neck. As he recites some lines from a small leather bound book he carries, my attention is fully focused on Marcus. He’s trapped me in his penetrating gaze once again, and whatever the minister says goes straight through the tunnel in my head unabsorbed. Finally he announces that it is time for our vows, which Marcus and I agreed to write ourselves.

  Marcus takes both my hands in his, never taking eyes off mine. I take a moment to try to compose myself. Now I suddenly become aware of the crushing density of people in the hall, all eyes pressing down on me. My nerves are brittle and I can’t seem to find my voice.

  Marcus jumps in to save the day. Smiling down at me, he begins his vows. I was supposed to go first, so I’m relieved when he begins to speak. His voice flows so smoothly, like warm honey.

  “Pollen, you are the sun my life revolves around, the air I breathe, the torch that lights my way. I vow to be your loving husband, your rock, your shadow. Wherever you go, I will be right there with you. We’ve been through a lot together and we made it out because we had each other. Like the infinity fly, my love for you will always survive the most treacherous times. I love you, Pollen.”

  That’s it. The dam behind my eyes has burst and tears gush down my cheeks. Marcus reaches into his jacket and pulls out a silver band. Taking my hand in his, he begins to slide it on.

  My nerves relax a bit, enough I think to allow me to say my vows and finish this.

  Suddenly the doors to the assembly hall burst open in a thundering explosion that startles everyone in the room. My shoulders tense and Marcus jumps back in alarm. He still holds my hand, but the ring on my finger remains firmly in his grasp. Glenn storms down the aisle, his face beaten and bloodied, his clothes soiled and ragged.

  No. This can’t be happening. It must be a nightmare. I pinch myself and will myself to wake up, but my surroundings remain. All of a sudden I feel sick. Really sick. I grasp my belly trying to contain my illness.

  Glenn’s gaze lowers to the hand that rests on my protruding belly and back to my eyes. Then his eyes seem to play a game of ping-pong. Belly. Eyes. Belly. Eyes. The look on his face says it all. No Glenn, please. Don’t say it.

  “So it’s true,” he whispers, but the room is so silent, it seems to bounce off the walls. “You’re pregnant.” Marcus grips my hand tighter, crushing my fingers together, still looking down at Glenn, almost as if he’s waiting for confirmation of his suspicions. Glenn takes a few steps forward until he is standing at the bottom of the steps and looks intently at my stomach.

  “That’s my baby.”

  Chapter 18

  The look in Marcus’s eyes is stark, empty, like looking into a bottomless well. He still grasps my hand when he tears off his mother’s ring. He yanks it so forcefully I thought he might break my finger.

  Everything that happens is a blur, and yet my awareness is magnified. Maybe it all happens so fast that it just feels like a blur, like when we rode the high-speed COPS train here and the yellow emergency lights of the Web melted into the darkness. I find myself permanently etching the images in my mind. This is a day I will never forget.

  Marcus lunges off the platform, hurling himself at Glenn like a lion to its prey. They have it out, throwing punches and kicks, spraying blood and sweat. I want to stop it, to stand between them and let them hit me instead. But I’m frozen to this spot, helpless to do anything.

  Nicron leaps off the platform and thrusts his arms around Marcus, who is pummeling Glenn on the floor. But Marcus jerks back and sends Nicron flying into the table of elites. Myra and Marley jump up and flee to safety.

  Finally Jansen, Yoric and some other men at their table step in and hold Marcus back as Glenn curls his body up on the floor, his face bloody and torn. Granby charges in with two Watchers behind him. They grab Glenn, who is now too weak to even walk on his own. If the fight had continued, Glenn wouldn’t have stood a chance against Marcus.

  Marcus shakes from his captors and paces back and forth, his chest heaving violently as he catches his breath. His black tuxedo jacket lays crumpled on the floor, the white boutonnière shredded to tiny white flakes. His sweat-laced shirt is gaping open, revealing the curled hairs of his upper chest. His
neatly combed back rusty hair now hangs in tangles and sweat over his fiery eyes.

  I still haven’t moved since Glenn arrived. My feet have grown roots into the dais, unable to move given the emotional toil that was thrust upon me. No. That I thrust upon myself. I should have known this was coming. How could I think I could betray Marcus and get away with it?

  After Glenn is dragged out, Granby and Marcus exchange a few words among the chaotic crowd of gossiping onlookers. They are audible, but I’m still too stunned to discern what they are saying. Marcus is full of ire, obviously. But Granby is back to his role as hardcore military commander. He shouts down to Marcus and Marcus shouts back. I’ve never seen Granby like this, but I suppose it suits his position more aptly than the caring patriarch.

  Marcus begins to leave and then turns back to me. A spark of hope rises when our eyes meet. Maybe Granby said something to calm him, to make him change his mind. But his jaw clenches and there’s nothing but hatred in his eyes as he looks up at me from the base of the steps.

  “You’re nothing to me now,” is all he says before he storms down the aisle and out the double doors. Every stomp down that red carpet, away from me, pounds a nail into my aching heart.

  Finally, the roots give way, dizziness consumes me, and my legs give out, collapsing my body to the floor like the rickety frame of a marionette. My breathing grows heavy, labored.

  A hand brushes my arm, Timber’s hand, and a switch is flicked on. All the emotion that has built up inside me comes pouring out and I find my legs can move again. I grope Timber’s tiny body, using it to climb back to my feet. I fly down the steps onto the red carpet and out the doors, kicking my shoes off so that I can run faster. In the corridor I look left then right. Marcus is leaning his forehead against a wall, punching it furiously. His blows resonate down the corridor, reverberating within my soul.

 

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