by TJ Vargo
Light was pooled in the hall where he'd left his door open. Beyond that was a gray dingy dark. His footsteps echoed into that darkness. There was no other sound. Jackson was about to turn away when his hand tightened on the banister.
Far back in that darkness he thought he saw something. Twin pinpoints of red that blinked then disappeared. Damn. His ears pricked and his heart skipped a beat. Now he was hearing things. It sounded like something growling. He was breathing hard standing still, all his senses humming. He exhaled and wiped his forehead. C'mon. Get a grip, this is silly. Swallowing hard, he turned and started down the staircase toward the foyer below. Put one foot in front of the other. It's just my imagination playing with me. Another sound (admit it - it was a growl, a fucking, bloodthirsty growl) came up from behind and tickled the back of his neck. The steps were flying under his feet when Nathaniel's voice boomed up to him.
"No need to rush son. Take your time."
Jackson had never been happier to see another person; make that two persons. That beautiful woman was with Nathaniel. Felicia. That was her name. Felicia. He wanted to sprint down the last half of the staircase, but he managed to contain himself and walk at a fairly normal pace down the steps.
He looked from Nathaniel to Felicia, then back up the steps. "I thought I heard something up there and it..." He turned his gaze back toward them. Feeling dumber than dumb, he shook his head and shrugged. "It sounded like something up there growled. I swear to God."
Nathaniel looked up toward the top of the stairs. "Probably one of the dogs Felicia lets into the house, or maybe you're just hearing things. You are recovering from a concussion you know," he said, then laid a hand on Jackson's shoulder, smiling. "Either way, it's nothing to worry about."
"Yeah, I must be hearing things," said Jackson. He took a last look up the stairs.
"A raccoon that snuck in from outside," said Felicia.
Jackson nodded. "Yeah, maybe."
There was silence. No more noises from up there. It probably was something he'd conjured up in his head. He had to admit, this place still had him shaky. Then he remembered why he'd been rushing down here to begin with. He cleared his throat and looked at Nathaniel.
"Are my clothes - the ones I was wearing before I got here - do you still have them?"
Nathaniel looked at Felicia, then shrugged. "You don't need those. I can give you new ones."
"You don't understand. I need the old ones. There was something in the pocket of the pants." Jackson was frustrated but stopped talking. He had too. Nathaniel was staring at him. Almost staring through him.
"That's right. You wanted to keep that, didn't you?"
Before Jackson had the chance to ask what he meant, Nathaniel held out his fist. Uncurling his fingers, Nathaniel said, "Here it is. I should have known you'd want to keep it."
Nodding thanks, Jackson took the ram's head belt buckle and slipped it into his pocket. How had it gotten into Nathaniel's hand? It couldn't have been there the whole time, could it? He held onto the buckle in his pocket, tracing his index finger in the intricate engraved metalwork.
"So, now that you have your precious memento, are you ready Jackson?"
Jackson stroked the buckle in his pocket. "Ready for what?"
"Ready to join your family," said Felicia, grabbing his arm.
The front doors leading out of the castle weren't more than fifteen feet away. Jackson didn't look directly at the doors, but they were on his mind as he nodded and began following Nathaniel, Felicia's hand reaching out to hold his as he slipped it from his pocket. Even now that he'd calmed himself, he still felt like running the hell out of here. But he had to know. He had to know if this was bullshit or the truth. He was betting it was bullshit. But if it could be the truth... to be part of a family that owned a castle like this, how unbelievable would that be? He glanced at Felicia, caught her smiling at him, and smiled back with eyes that said, "Alright. Show me what you got. Make me believe if you can." Then he looked ahead to Nathaniel, noticing Nathaniel’s uncanny resemblance to the man in black that had been stomping around his dreams lately. And here he was following him. This was weird and getting weirder by the minute.
Chapter Eight
People were moving around. Making too much noise. Her eyes fluttered open. She shifted her eyes toward the constant beep of a monitor next to her bed and then closed her eyes. They burned slightly.
"If there's nothing wrong with her then we want to take her home."
That was her father. She started to push her hands under herself to sit up and then stopped. Her eyes burned. The fear came back in a wave that froze her to the core. He had seen her. For a moment every muscle went lax. The voices in the room continued.
"I'm sorry Mr. Walsh, but we can't let her leave right now. Someone still needs to examine her. In this kind of situation you don't want to assume anything. It could be dangerous for her and for you and your wife."
"I heard. You've got that psychiatrist coming down."
She could hear the anger (and the fear, don't forget that) in her father's voice. It was the voice he'd used during the few times she'd slipped as a child and spoken of her dreams... and the fallen one. Now her mother's voice broke in.
"Why does she have to see him? Is there something you're not telling us?"
"It'll all be explained later. If you could just leave the room and let her rest we'll let you know the results..."
Her father's voice boomed.
"Just tell us what the problem is. We have a right to know."
There was silence for a spell and she could hear her father breathing hard. Then the voice of the other man, the doctor she presumed, began to whisper.
"It was when she was under. She was saying things that could indicate a problem. I'm not a psychiatrist so I can't say for sure, but your daughter may have had what's called a psychotic break with reality. This kind of thing normally manifests itself in young adulthood and I can assure you it won't get better unless she has treatment."
Her mother's voice trembled.
"What did she say?"
"The psychiatrist will talk to you after he examines her. Then we'll be better able to..."
"What did she say!" her father yelled.
"She..." The doctor paused and the only sound in the room came from the monitor beeping cheerily along. "She talked about a man that had seen her. Well, not a man, a devil. Said that he had gotten her brother and was trying to get her."
Her mother's voice broke in. "She doesn't even have a brother."
"I know. The emergency medics asked the manager at the restaurant. It's probably just a symptom of her illness. Mr. and Mrs. Walsh, it's probably best if you just go to the waiting room. I'll let you know how she is as soon as possible."
The sound of her mother crying faded out of the room and she opened her eyes to see a man standing over her. He reached down and felt her wrist, timing her pulse as he talked in a soothing voice.
"Just relax. We'll have someone in to see you in a moment. Everything is going to be fine."
Chapter Nine
Down a long wide corridor constructed of huge gray stones. As medieval as it looked, it was also very twentieth century with a plush carpet runner underfoot, beautiful vases and pottery set in wall recesses, and an occasional break in the ceiling - like skylights only these went a hundred feet up to large stained glass windows with only the faintest glow of color at this late time of day. Jackson craned his neck trying to see what was depicted on one of the windows. He gave up. It was too dark. The stylish wall sconces gave off the only real illumination, and it wasn't much. He could barely see that they were nearing a set of tall french doors set at the end of the hall. Jackson turned, squinting behind him, trying to see back where they had entered the corridor. Nothing but darkness back there. They'd been walking a long time. This was a big place.
"We're almost there," said Felicia, giving his hand a gentle tug.
"Almost where?" he asked.
Nathaniel
stopped at the set of french doors that must have been ten foot high. His deep voice rumbled as he turned and gestured at Jackson. "We're here son. These are doors for you to open... if you want. Or...," he spread his arms wide, "you can leave this place, and leave the life of privilege that is rightfully yours. It's your choice. Really. It's up to you to decide."
Felicia pushed Jackson toward the doors, saying, "Stay with me. Open the doors."
The excitement in her voice made his heart beat faster. Walking up to the doors, he grabbed their handles. This was nutty. A father that had come to him first in dreams, then reality. Now a sister he'd never seen, almost begging him to stay with her. And a castle to live in. He turned the handle. Hell, if things didn't work out he'd leave later. Might as well check this out. He pushed the door open.
The sudden eruption of light blinded him. Many voices joined as one, yelling, "Surprise!"
By the time Jackson's eyesight had returned to normal he had been pushed into the middle of a crowd that was packed into the large banquet room. Tables of food and drink filled the middle of the room. At the far end a fire blazed. And there, above the fire, a white silk banner hung down from the ceiling with the words, "Welcome Home Son!" printed in red. His eyes followed timbers as thick as a man running up the sides of the room to the ceiling forty feet up. The timbers buttressed the large gray stones that were the main building material of the castle. But what really caught Jackson's eye was the enormous chandelier made of intertwined racks of elk antlers hanging over the table set in the middle of the room, casting light down on the party. It was huge and it was weird and it was way overboard, but that's why he liked it. It was unnecessary, and for someone like him that had only had the bare essentials throughout his life, unnecessary made an impression. He was trying like hell, but couldn't wipe the grin off his face. No matter how much he'd thought of himself a simple man, he couldn't deny that "unnecessary" things wouldn't be too bad. For once in his life he thought he could stand to indulge in a few unnecessary things. It wouldn't be too bad at all.
"Welcome home Jackson," Kirtland said, coming up behind him on one side, Jackson's father on the other. Kirtland flashed his long, yellow teeth and grasped Jackson's hand in his. "We're so happy you've finally been found. After word got out the whole town decided to throw you a party."
"I know this doesn't make up for all those years," Nathaniel said as the crowd pressed in, "but it's only the beginning."
Jackson faced the crowd of people. Felicia's arms hugged around his neck from behind, her lips kissing him on the back of the neck through his long hair. Across the room he saw a group of musicians begin to work their instruments, wringing a sound out of wood and string that was happy and melancholy at the same time - the kind of music his father would have cursed as gypsy music. He held in laughter. Damn, he wasn't even sure if Sam Lewis was his father anymore, and better yet, he didn't care. Hands reached out to shake his, the smiling faces and ecstatic eyes of the townspeople closed around him, all eager to welcome him. And he thanked them, grinning back at the face of small town America as they smiled at him. Pudgy faced store owners and bald-headed businessmen. Their big bosomed wives in dresses that stretched floral patterns over their equally big bellies. The best he could do was whirl and nod, his grin plastered on, trying his best to not begin laughing out loud, a drink being thrust into one hand while people grabbed and shook the other. That was when the thought struck him.
Maybe it was true. Maybe he was the son of this rich guy Nathaniel.
The crowd backed off as people began to spread out around the room. Jackson tipped his drink. Yeah, and maybe pigs could fly. He crunched an ice cube. Hell, maybe pigs could fly. Just a day ago he'd gone to sleep in the middle of a hellhole life and a possible double homicide rap hanging over his head. And now, here he was, the long lost (and now found, don't forget that) son of an apparently very rich man. Yeah, maybe pigs could fly and maybe, for once, he had finally gotten lucky. He swirled an ice cube on his tongue and glanced at Nathaniel. Ahh, and there's something not to be forgotten. He was the son of one very rich but also very strange man. There was a flash in his mind of the man in black haunting his dreams, searching for him. How did Nathaniel fit in there? Was he one in the same? He caught himself staring and quickly looked away as Nathaniel turned toward him.
"I'm sure you have questions you want to ask," said Nathaniel, "but save them for later. Enjoy yourself. Walk around and mingle. It's not every night you start a new life."
Jackson nodded, watching as Nathaniel and Kirtland walked away, saw them look back once and then turn, their shoulders beginning to shake with the laughter of a shared joke. Jackson watched them as they made their way into the crowd. As they passed through the crowd people began to look at Jackson and smile. He looked down, checking his shoes, pants and coat, wondering what they were looking at. Did he miss something?
"Feeling a little overwhelmed?"
It was Felicia, holding another drink out to him. Jackson stopped his self inspection and took the drink she offered, looked around and handed his empty glass to a woman in a black and white maid’s uniform walking by with a tray full of shiny crystal ashtrays. He took a sip and nodded, looking around the room.
"Overwhelmed is an understatement. I'm Alice in Wonderland on LSD."
She laughed, a deep easy laugh. Jackson smiled politely. She moved next to his side and slipped her arm under his.
"C'mon, I'll show you your new castle," she said, still smiling, leading him through the crowd.
He was aware of her hip sliding against his, the silk of her dress whispering with each step. He swallowed a mouthful of gin and tonic, trying to get his thoughts straight. His eyes roamed down to her bright red toenails sticking out the ends of her black high heels, moved up to her shins scissoring through the dress with each step she took, lingered on the way her hips and thighs rolled under her dress. He exhaled hard and looked away.
"So you're my sister?" he asked, nearly spilling his drink as he gulped it. He rolled his eyes. What kind of question is that?
"Yes, I'm your sister." She bumped her shoulder and hip against him on purpose and playfully narrowed her eyes at him. "Now why would you ask that?"
"Good question - why would I ask that?" he replied.
They'd reached the fireplace on the far side of the room and Felicia turned toward him. No one else was on this side of the room. With the heat on his face, Jackson knew why. The damn fire was like a blast furnace, which was to be expected by the size of the fireplace. He figured it to be a couple inches taller than Felicia and wide enough to park his motorcycle in. A nimbus of roaring flame set an orange glow on the edge of Felicia's black hair as she stood in front of the fire. She looked him over and Jackson had the feeling he was in his room again, naked, with her inspecting him and smiling.
"You know, I feel like everyone is looking at me. Like I'm Jo Jo the talking monkey or something. Am I doing something wrong?" he asked.
"No, we're just happy you're here. I'm amazed you're here. I can't do anything but look at you." She folded her arms and cocked her head, grinning at him. "I just want to get you alone, so we can talk, get to know one another a little..." She put a finger to her lips, her eyes lighting up, then grabbed his arm and pulled him around the side of the fireplace. "The parties around here go on forever. I don't think anyone will care if we disappear for a little bit." She opened a door and led him into a room. He walked in, surprised to see the same fire they'd just left. The same fire, only turned around. It was the only light in the room and he walked toward it.
"The fireplace is two-sided," Felicia said, closing the door behind her and walking up to the fire with him. They both stared at the flames for a while until she gently pulled him down with her onto the animal rug beneath their feet. The fur was black and slick and smooth under Jackson's hands. He stroked the fur and watched Felicia slip her shoes off and stretch out on her side with her back to him, staring into the fire. "When there's no fire you can walk str
aight through that fireplace from one room to the other," she said.
"I couldn't even see this room from the other side."
She rolled over. Smiled with her mouth closed and then slowly showed her teeth. "No one else can see in here either. The fire's too hot. No one will get close enough to see through to this side."
Jackson looked away. They way she looked at him made him feel uncomfortable. The feeling intensified when she pushed his long hair back over his shoulders, then stroked the side of his neck and jaw. As he lifted his glass to take a drink she took the glass from his hand and put it down out of his reach. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his face.
"I still can’t believe you're here," she said.
He leaned back, pulling his face away from her. "You know, I'm not feeling right. That hit I took on the head might be acting up. Maybe I should go back to my room."
She grabbed his forearm, keeping him still while she slid next to him. He tightened up with the touch of her hand on his thigh. What was she doing?
"Jackson, you're right. You don't look good. Let me help you."
His coat was off before he could stop her. He just didn't have the strength or the thought process to figure out what to say. Her hands were on him again, pushing him onto his back. Only thing he could do was hold her gaze. Stare into those brown eyes. She smiled, leaned over him and kissed him on the forehead. Her breasts pushed softly against him, her lips on his forehead, slowly moving down to his cheek, coming closer and closer to his mouth.
His face was hot with blood pounding behind his eyeballs. He closed his eyes and grabbed the rug, his thoughts rampant. This couldn't be his sister. He didn't have a sister. She and Nathaniel had been playing games with him, that was all, and now... His mind went blank, her mouth on his. Her body pressed against him. Dizzy as hell, his head floating, before he could stop himself he was kissing her back. Opening his mouth to hers. Opening his eyes to her. Seeing the fire roaring behind her. And in the flames he saw something move. A dark outline back there. Someone watching. Shit. His eyes widened, Felicia's tongue searching through his mouth, then slipping out of his mouth to his ear. A figure, back on the other side of the fire, the outline of head and shoulders, all too apparent as whoever it was moved closer, looking through the fire. Jackson was about to yell at the person when Felicia whispered, "I want you in me." A switch went on in his head, a moment of clarity that sent a jolt through him. This was his sister. What the hell was he doing?