The Mark of Chaos

by Susan D. Kalior

  I backed away from him, jaw hanging open, panting from disbelief. “How can you act nonchalant about this? You just killed someone in my neighborhood. Murdered them in cold blood!” I marched up to him, half enraged—half terrified. “Where did you find your victim? Which house—”

  He lowered his mouth to kiss me.

  I smelled blood.

  I pushed against him.

  His mouth covered mine. The blood scent faded into musk, and I started fading into him, even as I forbid my mouth to respond. The heat of his breath warmed my lungs, cracking my frozen resistance. His moist, sensual lips on mine sent tingles to my womb. Though I didn’t exactly kiss him back, I soaked him into me, through and through.

  After a long great moment, his lips retreated. My acquiescence to even let him touch me after what he’d just done, horrified me. Winter’s touch had iced what was meant to be warm—my conscience. Oh, what was to become of my conscience!

  johnny circled me, hissing an orange and crimson glow that created a circle of hot steam. The heat wafted against my body like the soothing warmth of boiled tea. He was seducing me into forgetting his horrific act. I would not. Must not.

  When the circle of steam was complete, he slid up to me and enfolded my body in his arms like great dragon wings promising me eternal protection. I remained limp. With my cheek smashed against his chest, I uttered faintly, “I can’t pretend you don’t do what you do.”

  His voice reverberated in my ear, “Oh Shen, why must you care so much?”

  “I do johnny. I just do.”

  He stepped back and unzipped my jacket, sliding it off me. Then he coaxed me down to the ground with sensual kisses, his fingers grazing the contours of my body. Like a rag doll, I complied, not wanting, but needing his touch.

  The passion stirring in my flesh collided with the resistance in my mind, creating lifeless words. “I can’t forget who you are—what you do.”

  He eased me down on my back. The ground warmed me like a heating pad. His hard, strong body pressed against the length of me. He whispered in my face, “Do you condemn the wolf or lion for killing to eat?”

  “No, but—”

  “I’m no different.” He licked the rim of my ear.

  Color rose in my pale voice. “Why can’t you eat animal meat from the store?”

  “It will not feed me.” He kissed my neck. He breathed hotly in my ear, sending a chill to my toes. “I’m wild, Jen.” He nipped my earlobe with his teeth. “I need to capture my prey. The kill rejuvenates me.”

  “Why don’t you capture animals?”

  “Animals and people are poles apart. People replenish me in ways that animals cannot.”

  “Ah, stop!” I pushed against his arms.

  His mouth pressed against my lips; his warm tongue probed beyond my teeth. He enveloped me in his black intellect, in his red animal passion. Clothes were shed. I forgot what I said I wouldn’t forget. And I couldn’t remember what it was. Suddenly, I couldn’t remember anything. My whole world had fallen away, vanquishing logic and knowledge. Only passion was real. The moment possessed me. I wanted johnny, in me, and around me, all of him.

  The snow melted before touching us, transforming into hot moist mist that fell upon our bare skin as our bodies joined. Waves of love and lust crashed inside me, mounting, swelling, begging release. More than him taking me, I took him. I gave myself permission. Time dissolved into a blissful twinkling of forever.

  And then I was satiated with a sort of jubilant tranquility. We lay still and naked, me on top of him, his arms around my back. Warm we were. Warm. And I couldn’t remember what brought us to this point, or why we were in the forest. It didn’t seem to matter.

  I let loose an uninhibited sigh, “I can’t believe I did that!”

  “What? Let your animal side out?”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling a little shy after all.

  “There’s nothing like sex with a Shen,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” I was a little shocked by his crude proclamation.

  “I am fairly insensate. Physical sensation, pain and pleasure, are dull with me. I cannot much feel what I touch, not even you. I touch you because I know you like to be touched. However, your energy field is so clean and intense, it increases my ability to feel sensation. And when we have sex, your energy changes and blends into me. And somehow, I am pleasured greatly.”

  “Oh,” I said, not sure I liked his answer, “just physical pleasure?”

  “Certainly not. I am pleasured by your purity.”

  “Oh, so any Shen will do?”

  “Not just any Shen.” He rolled me off him gently to my back. He laid over me, withholding his true weight. With his forearms against the sides of my head, he twirled my damp hair with his strong magical fingers. “It’s you. It is your essence.”

  “Can you actually see an essence?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, you don’t see the way most people do?”

  “No. Yes. But more. I see as you do, but I also see the energy field around bodies. Lately, I target the ones with thin murky auras. This indicates lack of conscience and intrepid dealings. Such people don’t taste real well, but I can get by.”

  “Oh johnny, please!” I pushed against his arms, suddenly remembering how I came to be in the forest, and I felt johnny had made me remember, like breaking a spell he had put on me.

  “I’m sorry,” he kissed my cheek, “it’s just that I want to tell you everything. I want you to know me and not be afraid or repulsed. I suppose I want you to prove love exists.”

  I stopped pushing against his arms. My eyes softened. “I’ve loved you johnny from the first moment I saw you. I never stopped, not even when you were the Dragon, not when we were parted, not even when I wanted to marry Ricky, and especially now, johnny . . . God help me, and I know you don’t like that word, but, God help me, I love you now.”

  He kissed my eyelids forcing them closed. “You think you do, but you do not.”

  “I do,” I said.

  He replied, “You don’t love me without conditions. Hence, you do not love me.”

  I didn’t say anything, because maybe he was right. What was love? My heart burst with something wonderful for him . . . but was it love?

  He nipped my ear with gentle teeth and whispered, “Your boyfriend will be back.”

  “No,” I said, pushing my eyes open, “he has too much pride.”

  He rested his cheek next to mine with his mouth to my ear. “You don’t understand men like him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Now he’ll attempt to harm us.”

  “No. No. No. He would never do that. Ricky is hot-headed, but he is not vindictive.” I wasn’t as sure as I sounded. I don’t know why I even bothered smoke screening my true thoughts, johnny always found them. I added, “Do you really think he’d be vindictive?”

  “He will—and soon.”

  johnny rose. I sat up. I could barely see him in the dark, but I heard him gather my clothes. He set the huge wad by my side. Then I heard the rustling of his own clothes while he dressed. Normally I’d feel shy dressing in front of a man, even one I’d just slept with, but I knew it was too dark for him to see me well. I felt for my underwear and slipped them on, shuddering at the thought of Ricky and johnny colliding again. “If he does try to hurt us, promise me you won’t retaliate.”

  “I’ll have to,” he said.

  “But—”

  “It has to be that way, Jen. He will try to kill you.”

  I shook my head and pulled my jeans up over my hips. “No—Never. Not even with your provocation.” And of that I felt sure.

  “He will,” johnny said. “Your Venus squares Uranus crossing your natal Saturn in the death house, this month—right now.”

  I zipped my jeans. “You can predict death in astrology?”

  “I can predict probability. But more, I can smell the blood lust in another dominant male. The scent grows stronger. He’s up to someth
ing.”

  “He wouldn’t harm me. He loves me.” I donned my bra.

  “He wants you. He won’t let you live freely. He won’t let you be who you are. Is that love?” he asked, walking up to me, his face dim.

  “And what of you, johnny? Will you let me be free?”

  “I’m going to set you free. There is much I have to teach you about your nature and the magic of Shen. Once you harness it, you won’t be so defenseless.”

  “I’m afraid, johnny.”

  “I know.” He helped me slip my sweater over my head and pull it into place. I sat down and slipped on my socks and snow boots. Then I rose and got into my snow jacket.

  “Do you see my flashlight?”

  He walked away and came back, handing me the flashlight.

  “How did you see it in the dark?”

  “I see well in the dark.”

  “You do?” I blushed, and I guess he could see that I had. “You mean . . . you saw me dressing?”

  “Of course.”

  I turned away from him, embarrassed.

  He grasped my shoulders lightly. “We can have sex, but I can’t watch you dress?”

  “I guess not,” I said, “and I wouldn’t have dressed so casually if I’d known you could see me.”

  He positioned the hood of my jacket on my head. “I forget,” he said on soft breath, “what a nun you are.”

  Wanting to change the subject, I clicked on the flashlight. The fog was still thick and the flashlight useless. “Do you know the way home?”

  “I know the way home.” He stepped to my side and slid his arm across my back, curling his hand over my shoulder. I felt safe. Safe with johnny. I slipped my arm across his lower back and snuggled close.

  He led me away from the steamy circle. The cold grabbed me, countered only by johnny’s body heat. He guided me through the woods, the sighted leading the blind.

  “Do you see like a cat?” I asked.

  “I see like a Dragon.”

  “A Dragon? Now how am I supposed to know how a Dragon sees? If you were a vampire, I could learn about your nature by studying bats. If you were a werewolf, I could learn about your nature by studying wolves, but a Tazmark? It’s not like I can go down to the local zoo or wild life preserve and study Dragons. I mean they aren’t exactly real.”

  “They are real,” he said. “And there are many kinds. I am of the chaos variety. My kind live in the Draco Constellation. All those fantasy stories are rooted in truth. Any fiction you’ve ever heard is rooted in truth.”

  “So, full-fledged Dragons have been here on earth?”

  “Yes, however, they have rarely been seen by the human eye. Even so, their life force speaks to me, telling me about the Dragon World and the Dragon Way.”

  “Is that what you are then—a descendent of those Dragons who live in another world?”

  “At the dawn of humankind, Dragons mated with a handful of men and women who birthed half Dragon, half human beings, called Dracodons. Dracodons did not fare well in the third dimension. They perished, but not before mating with each other, creating new offspring called Tazadons.”

  “Tazadons,” I repeated, so I wouldn’t forget. I shivered and snuggled closer.

  He said, “Even though Tazadons were the product of two, half- human, half-Dragon parents, and endowed with more third dimensional qualities than the Dracodons, they couldn’t survive either. They died, but not before mating with humans again, creating Tazmarks.”

  My brain hurt, trying to keep the lineage straight.

  He continued. “When two Tazmarks mate, they create full-blooded Tazmarks. There are half-breeds and quarter breeds. But I am a full-blooded Tazmark.”

  “In a way then, you are part alien.”

  “In a way.”

  “Are Shens the product of Angels merging with humans?”

  “No. Shens are pure Angel spirits in human bodies.”

  “Not me,” I shook my head. “I know I have powers, but still, I am too weak to be a pure Angel spirit.”

  “Only in the ways of war—that’s all.”

  He lifted me straight up. “I don’t want you to trip on that log.” He landed my feet on the other side. We walked in such darkness and fog, it was hard to believe he could really see.

  I said, “I don’t feel strong in any way.”

  “You felt it when your light touched others in New York.”

  “That’s true.”

  “But then you returned to religion. Religion blocks your true spiritual nature, leaving your strengths largely undiscovered. There is more you can do Jen, once freed from convention.”

  “What more can I do?”

  “You can heal others, physically.”

  “No,” I said wearily, “such feats are for doctors and priests.”

  “No, true miracles are performed by Shens.”

  “Have there been Shens who were religious figures?”

  “Some of them.”

  “I’m surprised you admit that, given your disdain of religion.”

  “Religion has its place in the world, but it is not the place for you.”

  I was going to respond, but I was distracted by the bitter cold burning my skin. Fatigue weighted my limbs. And suddenly, I was so sleepy.

  He stopped walking. “You are cold and tired. Soon, the sun will rise. Close your eyes.”

  I was too weary to question why he wanted my eyes closed. My lids fell shut. With one arm still across my back, he slid the under my knees and lifted. His body felt oddly stone-like, as if a pile of boulders carried me. I felt as if we were gliding instead of walking, similar to that time he carried me home on my ‘red strip club’ day. Moments later, he stopped and put me gently down. I opened my eyes. We were in my front yard.

  I stared hard at his shadowy face. “I’m not going to ask you how you did that. I’m not ready for the answer.”

  “I’m not ready to explain,” he said. “Let’s get some sleep. Randa threw me off my schedule.”

  We left behind the dark morning and crept inside my house, up the stairs, into my room. johnny closed the door magically.

  I set down the flashlight, removed my boots, socks, and snow jacket, and then crawled under my white velvet covers into bed. I curled into a little ball. johnny crawled in and curled around me.

  Only yesterday, I had intended to sleep with Ricky. Today I was in johnny’s arms. Oh, I thought, I am bad.

  “You are not,” johnny said. He sighed wearily, “Sleep.”

  I closed my eyes and sank into the blood red waves that rolled in my mind. I fell asleep with a sense that I was falling into a volcano. In my dreams, I became molten lava. I loved it, because I was fearless, and fierce, and invincible. I didn’t have to try, or feel, or need. I just existed as a power that could not be destroyed. I didn’t want to wake up, and feel this power gone. But alas, I did wake up, and the only volcanic power I felt was johnny inside my heart.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I heard the hush of gentle rain. I snapped my head to the side, hoping johnny was there. His beautiful form lay sleeping like the dead. I sighed with relief. I looked to the ceiling and listened to the pitter-patter on the roof. My thoughts were strange. I needed the rain to melt the snow, symbolic of the rationalizations I used to cover the truth. I never faced the truth. Not ever. About anything. The world was bright and beautiful. That was my fantasy. But the truth . . . the truth was—

  I scowled. The pitter-patter on my roof had stopped. I stared out my window through the sheer white curtains. Colossal snowflakes against gray air fell like cotton puffs to the ground. The truth was—the world is bright and beautiful.

  I glanced at my clock radio, 9:23 a.m. We’d slept late, late for johnny that is. I was still exhausted. I had thought johnny was still asleep, but he reached out and touched my arm.

  I sat up in bed and looked at him, heavy lidded from only a few hours rest. “I must check on Randa. What will she think about us waking up together in the same room?” />
  I started to crawl off the bed. He clamped my arm. “She’ll think we did it.”

  My eyes widened. “johnny, don’t talk like that.”

  “Jen,” he imitated my frenzy, “we did do it.”

  “No.”

  “We didn’t?” he asked teasing.

  “I mean, no, don’t talk about it in a lighthearted manner. It’s a sacred act.” My face drooped, hurt that he was making fun of me.

  He rubbed my arm gently. “Yes, it has come to be that way for me too.”

  I smiled faintly, loving that he said that.

  He said, “Don’t worry about Randa. She wants us together. You needn’t feel shamed that we are.”

  I sighed, appreciating his attempt to comfort me.

  “Stay here a while. Randa will keep.”

  I didn’t really want to leave him. He looked wonderful, his dark form lying in my white bed, as if I’d captured him. I decided to stay. He released me and sat up, leaning his back against the solid white headboard.

  He dropped his hand down the side of the bed. When he lifted it, there was a cigarette between his fingers. He cupped his palm on the end of the cigarette and lit it.

  I curled my legs to the side and hugged my stomach. “I don’t want Randa to know that we’ve, you know—”

  “Made love?”

  “Yeah, that. I feel silly, patronized kind of. She knows I’ve never had a real relationship. I don’t want her . . . sort of . . . I don’t know, laughing about it, like it’s cute or something.”

  He tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. He inhaled deeply on his cigarette and exhaled smoke blended with words. “So, we have a real relationship?”

  “Yes,” I replied. A chill shot up my spine and lingered in my neck. I hunched my shoulders trying to dispel it. After a moment, it sank back down my spine. The smoke was making me feel weird. I tried to ignore the feeling.

  He said, “You won’t run away again?”

  “I’ll try not to run away again.” I brushed my hair back with my hands, then let it fall loose over my shoulders.