by Angie Martin
It only took five visits for him to ask her out for dinner. That first night, he had brought her the replacement chain – the one she really wanted – as a gift. He then wooed her over a shared dish of Mussels Fra Diavolo with linguine, which the sommelier paired with an expensive Sauvignon Blanc. Henry said all the right words, in just the right voice, as a seasoned man would, much unlike those twenty-something boys she’d dated in the past.
Henry treated her the way she always wanted by a man. He respected her wishes not to move their physical relationship beyond mere kissing and never pushed her for more. Even now, as he walked hand-in-hand with her to the front door of her townhome, butterflies swirled in her stomach at the thought of his tender goodnight kiss. His patience with her virtue exceeded her expectations of men in this era. One day, maybe, she’d be ready for more intimacy with him. Just not tonight.
At her door, she turned to face him, eager to gaze into his dark blue eyes. They awaited her under his mass of pristinely-combed, jet-black hair, and a content smile painted on his face, one of adoration… maybe even a hint of love.
His right palm stroked her cheek while his other hand inched around her waist. “You’re such a rare find, Maggie.”
She welcomed his lips on hers, his soft kiss throwing her equilibrium off-kilter and dizzying her mind. Swooning, she thought. I’m actually swooning over this man.
When he broke away, he remained close to her, his breath warming her face, as he whispered, “A priceless gem.”
“You’re pretty amazing yourself,” tumbled out of her mouth. She wanted to kick herself after the words left her, but Henry’s presence had weakened her ability to think of anything intelligent.
Stepping back from her, he said, “I have something for you. I wanted to give it to you earlier, but had to wait for the perfect moment.”
Her sparkling eyes widened, and excitement danced in her chest. She couldn’t manage to form any words, as he pulled out a small box from the pocket of his black slacks. She wondered why she hadn’t seen the shape of it against the fabric, but, then again, it was always hard for her to steer her stare away from his eyes.
He lifted the top off of the box, and she managed to suppress a squeal, though she didn’t know how. The round, green stone shone from within the simple necklace setting. The color of the jewel didn’t quite match an emerald, her birthstone, but it was close enough that she realized he purchased it just for her.
“It’s beautiful.” The breathy words lingered in the air between them, while she debated whether she should touch the necklace. She could hardly believe he had given her something so gorgeous, so thoughtful.
“I’m so glad you like it,” Henry said.
His fingers tangled with the necklace, and he gently freed it from the white pad. Raising it for her to see, the stone glittered in the porch lights. He motioned for her to turn around. Once she had, he lowered the necklace over her head and secured it.
She pressed her palm against the jewel and whirled around, the bottom of her flowered sundress twirling with her. “I love it,” she said.
“I wanted to present you with an emerald for your birthstone, but I felt a green diamond would be more special for you.”
Diamond! she thought with an audible gasp. He gave me a diamond necklace! “I didn’t know diamonds came in green.”
His charming smile illuminated his eyes. “They can come in several colors, if they are created so.”
Her jaw slacked, as she digested his statement. “You… you made this diamond?”
“Created it and set it, just for you. Every moment I spent on it, I thought of you. From the color of the diamond, to the twists in the chain, to the simplicity of the setting. It had to be perfect.”
“It is,” she whispered. “It’s more than perfect.” She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his in a fierce kiss of gratitude and admiration. Familiar pangs of overwhelming desire racked her body as their kiss deepened. Maybe tonight is the night after all, she thought.
A sharp sting in her upper arm jarred her out of the moment. “Ow!” She slapped her hand on her skin, and her face scrunched up as she rubbed away the pain.
Concern flashed across Henry’s face. “Are you okay?”
She craned her neck to look at the damage. A small, red bump stood out against her pale, Irish skin.
“What happened?”
Shaking her head, Maggie said, “I think a bee stung me. Or, maybe it’s a mosquito bite.”
“Not mosquito season, but those bees are pretty nasty this time of year,” Henry said. He massaged her upper arm, over the wound. “Does it still hurt?”
“Not at all. I’m sure it will be fine. At least if it was a bee sting, I’m not allergic.”
His smile took her mind off nature’s cruel distraction. “That’s something to be thankful for.”
“I have a lot to be thankful for.”
They shared another kiss, one that made her reconsider inviting him inside. The longer his lips caressed hers, the greater her desire became. Ions had passed, it seemed, since a man captured her so. Yet, she didn’t want to rush things, either. If this was the man for her – if this was her Mr. Right – then their relationship needed to last forever. She never intended to give herself to a man other than the one with whom she would spend eternity.
After parting, her hand lingered in his as she moved away from him, toward her door. “See you tomorrow?” she asked.
“You can count on it,” he said with a wink.
She reluctantly let go of his hand and turned around to unlock her front door. A heartfelt goodbye later, she eased the door closed and engaged the lock. Her feet floated on a dream through her foyer. She paused in the entryway to her living room and leaned against the doorframe to catch her breath. Her fingers fondled her numb lips, as she lost herself in the memory of his kiss.
A cloud floated through her mind, but she didn’t panic until her living room furniture tripled in number in her vision. Darkness encroached on her peripheral vision, tunneling her sight until everything disappeared. Her body hit the ground just before she lost consciousness.
Chapter Two
The stench of mildew wafted into Maggie’s nostrils long before she managed to open her eyes. A headache pounded against her skull, and the dim light from the shadowed room made it worse whenever she tried to look around.
When her eyelids finally decided to stay open, much against the will of her migraine, she jumped back at the sight. Her head hit the concrete wall behind her. She tried to rub the spot where she cracked her head the hardest, but her arms would not move from their position above her. She jerked against her binds, the clanking sound they made reminding her of chains, but she couldn’t get free.
Maggie gave up on the restraints and examined her surroundings. There wasn’t much to see: dark, concrete walls, slats of wood on the ceiling, random building materials scattered around the room, one door on the wall off to her left, an unseen section of the room in front of her, cordoned off by black curtains.
An unfinished basement, she thought. But how, when? Why?
Who?
The last thing she remembered was Henry walking her to the front door. He gave her a necklace – a green diamond, she remembered. After he secured it around her neck, her memory faded.
She tucked her chin against her neck and spied the necklace still dangling against her chest, just above the trim of her flowered sundress, the same one she wore on her date with Henry last night.
Henry…
No, it couldn’t be him. She trusted him, implicitly. Her body was always relaxed around him, with the exception of normal date-jitters. Every time she was with him, no red flags had gone up, no warning sirens blared. Henry was the definition of the perfect man, her perfect man.
The door opened, and her worst fear came true. Henry, dressed as proper as the first day they met, walked in the room. Instead of charming her, his charismatic smile chilled her bones.
&nb
sp; “My lovely Maggie,” he said. “That necklace looks stunning on you. Matches your eyes as if they were created together.”
“Henry, what are you doing? Why do you have me chained up? What do you want?”
His haughty chuckle rolled around the room, making Maggie wish she could slap her hands over her ears and drown out the sound. “I wouldn’t miss this family reunion for the world!”
Family reunion? she thought. What does he…
Henry tore down the curtain in front of her, and she gasped. The unconscious woman behind it, also chained to a wall, looked identical to Maggie. Minus the clothing – a form-fitting, miniskirt that fell just below her pelvis, the V of her lacy top plunging well into her cleavage – it was as if Maggie stared into a mirror.
“Maire,” Maggie whispered. Her head whipped to the side to look at Henry. “Why is she here?”
“Mai-re, Mai-re, quite contrary.” His singsong tone filled the room, but Maire didn’t rouse from her deep sleep.
“Is she…” Tears filled Maggie’s eyes. “Is she dead?”
“Not yet,” Henry said, walking between the women, blocking Maggie’s view of her twin sister. “She will be soon, but I had to wait for you to wake up first.”
“What’s wrong with her? What did you do?”
“I gave her a special mixture of drugs this morning, while you were still out, enough to keep her tranquilized for hours. Though she saw you and knows you are here, I figured you and I needed some alone time. I understand you haven’t seen each other in several years. She ran away from home at 15, right?”
“I don’t understand,” Maggie said. “Why is she here? What do you want?”
“Why, I’ve been courting her, the same as you! When Maire expressed her contempt for her childhood, for the father who beat her, and for you, her identical twin sister, the one who left her behind, living in the streets while you sought after a life filled with the best of luxuries, I knew I had to find you. To discover if you were the same as she, or if you differed as much as two jewels of the same cut. So, I opened a new jewelry store in your neighborhood and sent you an invitation to the grand opening.”
Her heart sunk as she remembered the handwritten invitation, the one she still had on her refrigerator.
Henry moved over to Maire and fingered the necklace clinging to her skin. He lifted it for Maggie to see. “Do you recognize this?”
Her eyes widened. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but the necklace Maire wore matched hers exactly. Green diamond, twisted gold chain, same gold setting. “You gave us both the same necklace? I thought you made it?”
“I did,” he said, pride gleaming in his eyes. “Both of them. They’re absolutely amazing, some of my best work, but they’re not perfect. You see, two jewels may appear the same, may be created the same, may be set the same, but they will never be identical. The flaws engrained within the stones are part of their being. They make the stones what they are. You and your sister are much the same: two beautiful jewels, each following your own flaws into a new life, separate from each other. You look the same, but beyond the skin, everything is different.”
Maggie stared at her sister’s straight, auburn hair, much longer than Maggie’s own shoulder-length locks. She knew if her sister opened her eyes, the green would shine back at her, the same color, size, and shape as Maggie’s. The light sprinkling of reddish-brown freckles across Maire’s cheeks was the only difference between the two. As children, neither of them had freckles, but Maire always spent too much time in outdoors without the protection of sunscreen, causing the spots to appear over time. Just one more aspect of Maire’s reckless life.
Henry paced between the women as he continued. “You’re the virtuous, virgin twin, while Maire is quite giving of that part of her. I often wondered if I were able to break you down and get you into bed, if you would be the same sort of lover as she. I know better, though. You would be much more tender, gentle, and you would expect the same from a man. Maire, on the other hand… well, she is wild and rough, taking more than she gives.”
The revelation that Henry had been sleeping with her sister made her stomach churn. She thought she might throw up, but was somehow able to hold it down. “I don’t understand,” she said again. “What do you want with us?”
“I want to perform an experiment.”
“An experiment?”
“The diamonds you and your sister wear were each created from a different woman I’ve loved. When I meet someone worthy of my collection, I use their ashes to make a new diamond. The next woman I encounter who I find desirable is given the jewel as a token of my love. Then she sacrifices herself to become the next diamond.”
“You kill women and make them in to diamonds? Then you give it to your next victim?” Maggie looked down at the diamond around her neck, realization hitting her. “This was made from a woman’s ashes?”
Henry’s smile reached for his sparking eyes. “You’re getting it! Your sister was to be my next love, but then she told me about you, and I found myself in a quandary. I had to find a random woman to create a second diamond for you. Trouble was, each diamond is unique, with its own inclusions, its own flaws. Though they look similar, they are as different as you and your sister. I began to wonder, how much different a diamond made from you would look when compared to one made from your sister?”
Maggie gathered saliva into the front of her mouth and spit in his face. “You’re sick! You’ll never get away with this!”
He laughed and used his sleeve to wipe the spittle from his skin. He walked away from her, to a shelf in the back of the room. After a few seconds, he returned and flashed a knife at her.
“No, Henry!” She cringed away from the glinting blade in his hands. “Please don’t do this!”
“Tell me, my dearest Maggie. Will your diamond have less flaws than hers, or more?” A toothy grin crawled across his face and he lifted the knife. “Let’s find out, shall we?”
Cycle of Life
Chapter One
Pearl Mackleburn thrusted the black cat carrier onto the low-top counter at Super Pets Veterinary Center. She stared down the teenage brunette partially hidden behind a computer monitor until the girl looked up with a friendly smile.
“Welcome to Super Pets! Do you have an appointment?”
The forced smile made Pearl want to knock the girl upside her head. Didn’t she have any more manners than to be condescending to an elder? Of course, she didn’t, not dressed like a lowlife, child prostitute with her piercings and… was that a tattoo on her arm just beneath her short sleeve? Kids just didn’t know what it was like in her time. They took everything for granted and mutilated themselves like a bunch of hell-bound heathens.
“I do not have an appointment,” Pearl said, not bothering with a smile. “Nor do I need one. I’ve patronized this establishment for over six months, and I’ve not seen you here before. Where’s that other one gone off to? She was at least more appealing to look at.”
The visibly shaken young girl stammered out her response. “I… I… do you mean Crystal?”
The sound of the other employee’s name rattled Pearl. “Yes, her. The one with the name of a stripper.”
“I… I’m sorry, but she went away last week to college. I just started on Monday.”
Pearl harrumphed and adjusted the scarf around her neck. “I’m sure it’s just a community college where they take anyone off the streets. Now, about this…” She pointed to the cat carrier and snarled. “This thing. I’m here to have it put down.”
“Um, uh… does your cat have a name?”
“It doesn’t need a name. It needs to be put down.”
“I don’t…” The girl rifled through some papers on her desk, as if looking for something important to help her with Pearl’s demands. “I should probably call—”
“No need for that.” The voice came seconds before the veterinarian walked into the office. Stepping to the side of the new girl, the vet stuck his finger into the cat c
arrier. “How are you doing today, Fluffy?”
“That’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard,” Pearl informed him.
“I know, Mrs. Mackleburn, but my associates need to call your cat something since you haven’t provided her with a name.” The middle-age man named Ron Withers, who acted as the veterinarian – Pearl refused to call him a doctor of any sorts – smiled at her. “What is Fluffy here for today?
“Put the damn thing down already, and let’s be done with it.” Pearl grew tired of stating the reason for her visit. “It’s old, it keeps crying, and it’s utterly useless.”
Ron removed his finger from the carrier and stood up straight. “Fluffy here is creeping up on 13 years old. That’s not too terribly old for a cat these days. There may be something wrong with her that can be treated with the proper medication and—”
“Just put it down,” Pearl said, her finger in the air. “It’s well past its prime.”
“I understand,” Ron said. “Misty here will prepare your invoice while I take Fluffy to the back. Did you want her ashes in an urn?”
“I don’t care what you do with the ashes,” Pearl said. “Flush them down the toilet, if you must do something.” She glared at the new girl… Misty. “Just send me the damn bill.” Pearl whipped around and waltzed out the front door.
Chapter Two
That evening, settled on the couch with her usual cup of tea, Pearl watched “The Lawrence Welk Show,” grateful for a quiet night without that damn critter running around, whining and wailing about nothing. She thought about the afternoon call from the worthless vet, who told her that – despite her insistence – they ran blood work on the cat and found leukemia. She gave the vet a piece of her mind before telling him that she was paying for none of it since he went outside of her wishes. After he assured her all the bills would be handled, she hung up the phone on him.