Zamani

by Angelic Rodgers

  Even if she hadn’t been the lone woman in the sea of shirtless dancing men, Alex still would have noticed her. Wren slid between two of the bar patrons and sat on a stool, shrugging the duster off her shoulders. The contrast between the dark lace and her pale skin peeking through it was too much for Alex to ignore. Wren took her home that night after her shift, riding beside her in the cab up St. Charles to the Delphine Hotel where Wren rented a room.

  And for a few glorious months, they were inseparable. Wren loved the contrast between them; Alex’s soft butch exterior and focus on school were in stark contrast to her image on stage, and she found refuge in the quiet stability that Alex offered her. But, of course, Wren had sabotaged herself.

  Wren’s bisexuality and work as a stripper were two elements that made it hard for Alex to completely trust her. Eventually, Alex couldn’t deal with the uncertainty, and she broke off the romantic relationship. She’d been to see Wren perform a time or two. It was incredibly arousing at first, but Alex soon became aware of the reality of the business and started to fear that Wren was playing her in the same way she played convention goers from Idaho. Wren understood Alex’s objections, as every relationship she ever had seemed to follow the same trajectory. She’d begged Alex to wait it out, telling her she wouldn’t dance forever, but she wanted to get what she could while it was still lucrative. Alex tried, but in the end she couldn’t overcome the doubts and fears and the inevitable break up happened.

  They remained friends, and Wren accepted Alex’s choice and her later relationship with Liz. Once she was turned, though, she realized she had the power to seduce with her mind, to bend someone else’s will through thought. She became even more powerful than she was when her body was her main weapon. She pursued Alex. As she invaded her brain, she found some embers from their past relationship still smoldering. She took advantage of that, and she was blind to everything else. Knowing that Alex still had feelings for her made her bold and reckless.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Wren turned over in her bunk. She’d been barely conscious in the days between her arrest and now; she vaguely remembered being torn away from Alex’s body, her blood still on her tongue, still warm. The scene had been chaotic, and she remembered Olivia there, for just a moment, before the blue flashing lights, the sirens, the hands all over her and Alex, separating them.

  In the weeks she’d been in this cell, she’d dreamt of Alex a lot; not the blood soaked Alex, but the younger Alex who had loved her until she couldn’t take the challenges of Wren’s job anymore. When the break up happened, Wren had told herself that it didn’t really matter that much; they were still friends, and after all Wren didn’t like to limit herself to just one person. Now that Alex was dead, she could see that for the bullshit it was.

  Wren had woken this morning clearheaded for the first time since her arrest. She devoured her breakfast. As the coffee helped dissipate the mental fog, she thought back to the previous night and Olivia’s words. She’d been in jail for almost two months, yet she had little memory of anything beyond her dreams of that horrible night when she’d killed Alex and last night when Olivia had come to her, kissing her and telling her the horrible truth of what she’d done. She turned it over again in her mind, as she stared into the bottom of her empty cup, wishing she had a full pot of coffee.

  She’d killed Alex.

  Even though she had to believe it given where she was, the truth of her crime didn’t make sense to her. Not only could she not imagine that she’d allow herself to kill the one woman she truly loved, but she could still feel Alex’s presence. It was like a certainty she had that she was out there somewhere, waiting for her. But Olivia had been so sure of it, and she had taunted her last night for still having feelings and feeling sorrow over the whole situation.

  Last night, Olivia appeared in her cell, and at first Wren was sure she was hallucinating. It wasn’t until she felt Olivia touch her that she realized that this was more than a hallucination. She felt relief at first; she’d been driven nearly mad by the lack of feeding. Wren closed her eyes and remembered the feeling of Olivia’s lips on hers, of the bloodletting, of the taste of copper and violets that filled her mouth as she fed. Once she was no longer desperate for sustenance, she’d seen the events of the last two months in flashes. She realized why she was here, and she also was aware that Olivia had been to see her before, but had not let her feed those times. Wren knew that she had one chance to stay clear and to convince Olivia she deserved to be saved.

  She’d bargained last night, begging Olivia to take her away from here. Olivia refused, but she agreed to allow Wren a chance to prove herself. Today, she would meet with her public defender and try to find some way to work through this mess—if there was a way.

  She felt tears forming as she thought about Alex. I must be in denial, she thought. After all, she was here because Alex was dead. It wasn’t fathomable for her, though. She loved Alex. When the two of them were a couple, she’d been willing to do anything for the relationship short of quitting her job. The money was too good, and despite Alex’s objections, Wren refused to quit dancing. At first, Alex hadn’t been bothered by what Wren did for a living, but after she stopped by the club and saw her in action, she started to complain. Knowing that Wren was bisexual also was a sore spot for Alex. After about six months, Alex told her they could be friends but she couldn’t continue being her girlfriend and worrying about when she would finally step out on her or be offered enough money to meet clients outside the club.

  Wren had bluffed well enough at the time that Alex didn’t have any idea how hurt she was by the breakup, but Wren was devastated by the loss. When Alex and Liz became an item several months later, Wren channeled her hurt and aggression into her stage act, making it even darker. After the breakup, she started investing in her stage persona more. She added her trademark back tattoos—a pentacle and a triskelion—one on each shoulder blade. She’d also started drinking a lot more, and she burned through girlfriends and boyfriends faster than ever.

  Sienna had been different, though, and when they first started dating, Wren hoped that she had finally gotten over Alex. Then Sienna disappeared. What was it Olivia had told her in one of those many visits? Something about Sienna being dead, too, and that Wren was under suspicion for her death? She tried to push through the shadows in her memory, and she could just barely remember Olivia taunting her about Sienna. Wren had assumed Sienna had just moved on; she’d been conscious of both of them starting to pull away from the relationship, something they were both prone to do when they felt they were getting too close to someone. As her mind grew clearer, she remembered Olivia telling her she had been the one to take Sienna from her. Wren tried to rationalize at the time that Sienna being gone was for the best, as they wouldn’t have worked anyway, but she had to admit now, alone in her cell, that she’d started to unravel when she realized that Sienna was truly gone.

  She’d also lost Ryna, a dancer friend who turned into a playmate outside of work, all thanks to Olivia. Olivia invited them both to her house, starting the relationship that led to Wanda’s death and eventually to Ryna’s, as well. Alone in her cell, Wren realized Olivia took her from Wren, just as she had taken Sienna. Wren feared that Alex would be next. She’d seen the way Olivia pursued her, and she knew Alex was under Olivia’s power. Alex worked extra hours outside of class for the professor and had started a movie night at The Ruby as part of her research work. As an offering, Wren decided to turn Alex for Olivia, hoping the payoff would be that the three of them could be together.

  Or at least that was how she had reasoned it out at the time. In her cell, she sat up as she realized the truth of what she’d done; she hadn’t tried to turn Alex for Olivia—she’d tried to turn her for herself and to protect her. In her grief over losing Sienna she’d decided she wouldn’t let Olivia have Alex, at least not all to herself. It was time for her to stand up for herself and show that she had some power.

  Her realization was inter
rupted by notice that her lawyer was waiting for her. She was led out to the visitation area. In her new state of awareness she marveled at the care they took to shackle her and put chains around her ankles and waist.

  Jan Solaris greeted her coolly. “I had all but given up on you, Ms. Anderson. I got a call this morning that you are lucid.”

  Wren nodded and sat down. “Please, call me Wren. I don’t have much recollection of meeting you before. I think I’ve been in a state of shock. What can you tell me about my situation?”

  Jan shuffled her papers around and finally looked up. “It’s not good. The prosecution is building a case against you not only for the death of Alex, but also for Wanda’s death, Ryna’s death, and potentially for Tim Clark’s death as well.”

  Wren closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She was glad Sienna’s name wasn’t mentioned, but she knew they also suspected her of that murder. The new charges merely hardened her resolve to find a way out, and made her realize Olivia was setting her up for a hard fall.

  She returned to her cell, determined to find a way to turn the tables on Olivia. She wasn’t sure how she’d manage, but she knew she first had to convince Olivia she was still in control and that she would do anything for her. If she didn’t, she knew she’d be stuck. Her first priority was to feed and gain strength while she planned her next step.

  Fortunately, when Olivia returned that night, Wren found she’d decided to help her in terms of teaching her to survive and stay lucid.

  “You did well today with Jan Solaris. I have connections here, and your reward is that you can feed as you like from guards who are donors. No more survival rations.”

  When Olivia took her leave that night, a guard came into Wren’s cell. Without saying a word, she stood toe-to-toe with Wren and slid her cool hands into the neck of Wren’s shirt, finding the fine silver chain Olivia left with her. She pulled the necklace over Wren’s head and pressed the tiny blade into her hand. A single, soft and pleading “Please” was the only word she uttered. Wren fed from her, and when it was over, the guard silently took the chain in her hands again, slipping it back over Wren’s head as one girlfriend might gift another. She tucked the necklace out of sight under the neckline of Wren’s shirt before turning and walking out.

  Wren felt a surge of anger toward Olivia, not just for herself and her situation, but for the way that Olivia could obviously enthrall anyone and exert her will on them. While Wren was no stranger to the powers of manipulation, she was far more used to being the manipulator. She felt as if she was getting some traction with Olivia, and she wondered how Olivia managed to come and go freely. It was more than just mental invasion; Olivia manifested physically in her cell. This was obvious because of the necklace—up to that point, Wren had wondered if Olivia had merely been communicating telepathically—creating the illusion of her physical presence. She had to believe that the transformation went beyond mental illusion, given that the guard also interacted with the pendant. Now she was sure that she was somehow able to transform herself into the wispy smoke and fog that rolled into the cell before it swirled together to become Olivia.

  She puzzled over it for hours until she finally fell asleep, her dreams haunted by shadow creatures and the sound of Olivia’s laughter in the dark.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  In response to her pleas for help, Olivia asked Wren for time. Instead of being disappointed by this request, Wren was glad. She needed time to figure out things herself. Not only did she have to work out some bargain with Olivia to convince her she was valuable and useful enough to be rescued from sure execution, but she also was meeting with a reporter, Vaughn Morris, who wanted to write a book about her and about the crimes she’d been accused of. She spent the morning of the first interview pacing in her cell, wondering what he would ask and how she would answer. She knew she had to play her part well in order to keep Olivia in her good graces. After realizing Olivia controlled some of the people at the prison, Wren became even more aware of every move she made and everything she said out loud. She even tried her best to quiet her mind when others were near her. She felt this might be a bit paranoid, but the exercise made her feel at least some tiny glimmer of control.

  Newly lucid, she requested books from the prison library on psychology and on meditation. She devoured the books, looking for some answers and some help with keeping her composure with Olivia. She also wanted to appear credible when meeting with Vaughn Morris.

  Vaughn was a nice guy. In the first interview, he let her take the lead, and she felt better after talking to someone about Alex. Talking about how she felt about Alex had been easy; she was grateful that he hadn’t pushed her into talking about the others right off the bat. She was more than willing to accept responsibility and blame for her actions regarding Alex, even though she knew now that she had tried to protect her in the only way she knew how by turning her. The other deaths she knew Olivia was more directly responsible for. Anger rose up in her again as she thought about all of the times Olivia made choices for her and for others. She could rationalize her own attempt to turn Alex; at least she’d wanted to do that out of love and to help her, not out of some maniacal need to have another pawn to control for her own amusement.

  As a dancer and street hustler, Wren had good people reading skills, and she started to realize that those she knew were under Olivia’s control were identifiable if she just paid enough attention. Within a week of her awakening, she could spot the few donors among the guards, and she realized when talking to Jan Solaris that she had more motivation than simply keeping her job in how she advised Wren. She was under Olivia’s control and feared for her life. Vaughn was free of influence, though; she saw no hidden motives. He was genuinely interested in what she had to say.

  When he returned for the second interview, Wren was a bit more relaxed, and he asked her about her childhood. No one had taken much interest in Wren’s past before, and she enjoyed telling stories and even flirted with him a little. It felt nice to have a normal conversation with someone.

  Olivia returned to Wren’s cell the night of the second interview, rewarding her not only with attention but also with some vague indication she was willing to help her. She even commented on how Wren seemed more in control of her emotions and more restrained, less desperate. Wren was simply glad that Olivia didn’t seem to suspect that she had chosen to fight rather than choosing to be a puppet.

  When Olivia left that night, Wren dreamt of Alex. After they broke up, Alex had grown her hair out. She’d teased Wren she didn’t want to be a boy and the fact her boyish style had drawn Wren to her bothered her. Wren found her just as attractive with the longer hair as she had with short hair, but she didn’t tell her that, lest she know she still carried a torch for her. She and Liz were a great pair, even Wren had to admit that. That didn’t mean she hadn’t wanted still Alex.

  In the dream, they were at The Ruby, and Wren was pressing Alex against the door of the office, kissing her deeply as the rest of the bar patrons were distracted by the film Alex had chosen to show that night. In real life, the kiss had ended rather quickly, but in the dream, Alex grabbed the doorknob and opened the office. Only it wasn’t an office—it was Wren’s bedroom at the Delphine where she and Alex had spent their first night together years ago. Alex pushed her back on her bed and fell on top of her, kissing her mouth and her neck. She pushed up, her hair brushing Wren’s cheeks as she opened her eyes to look at her. As Alex smiled, Wren flipped her over and began returning the kisses.

  Wren woke up crying. The dream was too real. She still felt connected to Alex and couldn’t fathom that she was truly gone. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and willed herself to go back to sleep. In the early hours of the morning, just as the sun was coming up, it was Alex’s laughter in her dreams, not Olivia’s. Alex’s laugh was the laugh of sweet kisses and sleepy I love yous between warm and tousled sheets.

  And she heard what Alex said to her every time they parted when they were a couple. “I can
’t wait for you to see me again.” It was a little joke back then between them, but hearing it now made the hair on the back of her arms stand up. She woke up with chills, wondering why she’d thought of that after all this time.

  While Olivia worked on a solution to freeing Wren, she was largely absent and the visits stopped. She’d left Wren with instructions to continue to build her strength and to work on her self-control. She’d actually suggested Wren study meditation and self-hypnosis. While Wren was relieved that the fact she was already doing this wasn’t a problem for Olivia, she also wondered if Olivia already knew. Perhaps she had spies in the prison library. Wren’s plans went beyond self-control, though, and she was curious if she could develop her powers of influence as Olivia obviously had.

  Wren began to experiment first by reaching out with her mind, trying to call the guard she’d just fed from to her cell. She closed her eyes and focused on the taste of the guard’s blood, the feeling of her skin under Wren’s lips. She’d heard the guard’s name in her head as she fed on her. She focused on the name, too, whispering it in her mind over and over: “Silvia, Silvia. . . “ It didn’t take long before she heard the rattle of keys in her cell door. The guard slid in again and stood before her, silent. Wren stood near her and concentrated on the question, “Can you hear me?” The guard spoke, softly in response. “Yes.”

  “Do you have the power to let me go?”