by D. M. Pratt
She finished laying the last circle. The entire drawing was large. It filled the hall almost from the edge of the wall and the rim of the stairwell banister. Carefully, she placed and lit each of the candles meticulously matching the placement from the picture Evine had shared with her.
Why? If they were here during the first time, before the great floods, why had they returned? What did they want with humanity and what the hell did they want with her? She wondered. The questions swirled in her mind. That single word had multiple parts. Offspring? Is that why they’ve returned? To breed? Why have they chosen me? She asked herself again.
She opened her eyes and looked at the ancient design that lay in front of her on the floor.
“Why would some ancient Voodoo-based occult remedies affect the descendents of Gods?”
She glanced out of a nearby window and watched as ragged clouds moved in to cover the moon. They blocked the light playing peek-a-boo with the darkness. It was almost time. The moon was moments away from reaching its pinnacle, cresting the highest point in the midnight hour of the sky.
Open your thoughts, Evine’s voice whispered to her. Open your spirit to him.
Eve used her imagination to draw him to her. Eve closed her eyes and let her mind drift back to the passages she’d read in the Bible and the Torah telling of the ancient Godlings, warrior children, giant descendents of the universal who had fallen from grace: the first children of God, once perfect beings who looked down on the women of earth and lusted for them and chose hell to take pleasure, to couple with, to mate and produce offspring. She conjured images into her thoughts.
Now, Eve thought. Come to me.
But who? Beau? The Nephilim?
Beau, she thought. She would need to open her thoughts and reach out to Beauregard first. She could bring him in and maybe protect him and through him the Nephilim would follow. Once she had Beau, he would open the next door- the dark door-and through it together they could find and draw the Nephilim. She would lure him into her trap and destroy him. A rush of terror surged through her. Eve quickly pulled the spike from the inside of her jacket lapel. The silver surface caught the light and winked a glint of light that flashed down its surface and lit her face. This was her only weapon against an ancient demi-god demon.
“I’ve got to be kidding,” Eve whispered.
See in your mind every detail and then will it to unfold. Those are your powers to stop what is coming, Evine said. Her voice echoed again through Eve’s thoughts.
“This shit better work,” Eve whispered.
Eve crossed the floor careful not to disturb the powdered lines she’d so meticulously drawn. Eve stood near the farthest window positioning her feet just outside the edge of the large white circle. Some internal knowing told her she had to face him in another reality, not shadow or light, but as real as the one she stood in right now; her world, her rules. If it was her design, her illusion, she would make it work her way. Eve carefully stuck the thin spike into the fabric underneath the lapel of her coat. It could not be seen, but it needed to be accessible—very accessible. She also felt for Mac’s gun. It felt hard in her pocket, pressing against her left hip. She reached in and flipped the safety switch to off. Just in case, she thought. She looked at the closed door across from her. Millard and the doctor were real weren’t they? Now she needed only to create. She closed her eyes and opened her mind. Instantly, she could feel a warm breeze pass through her. The air was thick with the smell of summer honey. She had shifted and he was already coming.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Mac and Hanover, followed by a dozen police cars, sped through the back roads of the Atchafalaya Basin countryside. They had just passed Iberville and were closing in on St. Martins. The Asylum, even at 100 MPH, was still a good twenty-five minutes away. Their red and blue top lights spun out a silent warning for any and all in their path to get out of their way.
“I’m still waiting,” Hanover said in an almost imperceptible whisper.
“What?” Mac replied.
“Don’t play stupid with me, Blanchard. I deserve better. I’m as far out on this limb as you are and if it breaks, I want to know what the fuck I’m takin’ a fall for. Millard LeMasters and the prestigious law firm of Robb, Gallager and Grant are not enemies I want on my list,” Hanover said.
His thick, southern drawl hung in the air with the bitter sweet of molasses.
“Why didn’t you get out of that safe room when the girl did?”
“She was headed to the toilet,” Mac said. “I was talking on the phone and looking through papers with my back turned.”
“What locked you in? I want to know what you saw before the door sealed?”
Mac looked over at Hanover. He was a hard man, but one you’d want by your side if you were heading into danger. Most of all, he was a damn good cop. Mac had known him for twelve years, worked with him on a thousand cases. Hanover had been his boss and his comrade in arms and they’d spent long days and longer nights taking on and down a host of criminals scraped off the streets of New Orleans. They’d never been anything close to friends. Mac didn’t know Hanover’s wife and kids. He’d seen them at precinct functions like funerals, weddings and picnics, but that was it. He knew Hanover was a war hero; Desert Storm as he remembered. Knew he’d saved cops and civilians, killed many bad guys and sent the rest away to prison. Hanover worked hard to keep the streets clean and in the end he’d been awarded a few citations for being an honest cop and promoted to Lieutenant. Hanover knew Mac had a good cop record, too. He was pretty sure that’s why he’d backed him up and that was why he was there by his side. There had been no questions so far, only trust. It was a fair question. Mac just wasn’t sure how to answer it.
“Mac! I’ll turn this entourage around in a heartbeat,” Hanover said, still cool but more threateningly than ever.
“I heard something and turned to look for Eve. That’s when I saw it step out of a column of gray smoke; huge, at least seven feet tall, burgundy skin with black eyes and… and…” Mac stopped.
“And?” Hanover added.
“It has a tail, talons … fucking cloven hooves,” Mac said then fell silent to let the image sink in.
“Hooves and talons?”
“You saw the walls and furniture after the killing at the Bouvier house?”
“Yeah,” Hanover said.
“Yeah, talons… razor sharp talons.”
Mac could tell Hanover was remembering the details of the ripped slices in the wall fabric and blood patterns. He’d seen what was left of Ms. Clarisse’s body as well.
“It wasn’t there and then a half second later it was. I yelled into the phone for backup. I tried to move to the door but I couldn’t….”
“Couldn’t?” Hanover asked. “It was like something bound my arms and legs in a..a …fuck…I don’t know…energy. I felt like I’d been trapped inside a vat of burning hot, thick glue. I couldn’t move anything but my eyes and mouth. It could have crushed me like a fuckin’ cicada bug, but it wanted her more.”
“The Dowling woman?” Hanover asked.
Mac nodded.
“She grabbed something… an envelope I think and my gun and bolted. I tried to force my legs to move toward the door. That’s when it looked back at me and smiled or sneered. The fucker was so ugly I couldn’t tell the difference. It waved its claw and released me. I ran for the door but it was closing. I tried to get my fingers in between the door and the frame, but the opening was about to be too small. I grabbed anyway, pulling to make it stop, but the mechanism was too powerful. I yanked my fingers out at the last second and the door sealed. I beat on it and called to her. That’s when I went back and picked up my cell phone, but it was dead. I raced to the monitors and safe room phones. I saw her run down the stairs. It was following. She got out the door. I grabbed the safe room phone and tried to dial out. That’s when the heat slammed into me. The phone burned my hand. The monitors glitched and went static. All I could do was stand there in this
furnace watching everything melt. I could see the papers starting to singe. The temperature started goin’ up like a dry sauna on steroids. I pried at the door and tried the phones, but they were so fucking hot I couldn’t touch them.”
Mac opened his hands. The skin on his palms and fingers were burned an angry painful shade of red. Hanover could see the burns even in the dim light that poured in from the moon.
Hanover was silent for a long time.
“How do we fight this bastard?” Hanover asked.
“I don’t know, but I think Eve does,” Mac said.
“What makes you think that?”
“She said she went to visit Evine Toussaint,” Mac replied.
There was a long, drawn out silence and then Hanover whispered.
“Fuck me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Her eyes still closed, Eve felt his presence approaching. He came in a whoosh of wind: the sound of wind that comes before a speeding train or a car accident. It filled her ears and intensified the scent of honey melting in the summer sun, but it was laced with cayenne pepper and cinnamon, bitter and dark. The feelings it triggered surged through her, taking her into what felt like a dream. She let her head fall back and spread her arms as if carried on a gentle breeze. It felt warm and soft, sweet and peaceful. He didn’t want her to be afraid. Eve took two long, slow, deep breaths and opened her eyes. What she saw amazed her.
She was gone from the tower or at least a version of her was. This version was standing outside. It was day, bright and warm. She was in a vast field of green grass that grew over stretches of flat land encircled by trees, orchards filled with fruit ripened in the sunshine. All around her were colorful, fragrant flowers; a hundred different kinds spattered the edge of the orchard with colors so brilliant she knew only nature could create them. She saw roses in every shade, white magnolias, gardenias, honeysuckle, chrysanthemums, tulips, birds of paradise, calla lilies, orchids large and small; so many she could scarcely name them all. Amber clouds of butterflies fluttered above. Birds filled the sky and at her feet a stream of water as clear as glass reflected the blue of the sky. Fish and frogs swam as the water caught the sunlight, which danced on the back of each ripple. She could hear the brook babbling like the laughter of innocent children at play. Eve felt the wind, soft and gentle as an island breeze. It brushed against her cheek as sweet as a kiss and in its breath she heard it whisper her name.
“Eve” the soft voice said. “We have been waiting for you.”
Eve turned her head to see that Beau was standing next to her. She stepped back to give herself space between them. He was more handsome than she remembered him: taller with strong shoulders, raven hair, sky blue eyes and a face that could have belonged to a movie star. If he cared about the power his beauty gave him he would have seemed arrogant, but he didn’t. His eyes were filled with love for her. He smiled like a lover who’d missed her. He had a glow to him; an aura, that shifted through a haze of multiple colors. It bloomed and spilled from his pores as it encircled him in a beatific halo of light. Eve had never seen a person’s aura before, but somehow she understood this glow was indeed an aura. His presence made the space they stood in brighter and the heat of his light fell across her skin. She felt warm and safer than she could ever remember feeling in her life.
Beau stepped closer, hungry to gather her into his arms. Again, Eve backed away. She didn’t want to move away, she ached for him to fold her into his arms, to hold her, to touch her, to kiss her lips and make love to her body as only he knew how to do. He could make her feel more of a woman than any man had ever made her feel in her entire life.
“You love me as much as I love you, Eve. I know it in my heart. What are you afraid of?” Beau asked.
“That… you… you are not who you appear to be.”
“I’m Beau…Beauregard Gregoire Le Masters,” Beau said.
“Then you know you have been a prisoner in this asylum for fifteen years. You were committed by your grandfather and held as a mental patient. You know your grandfather killed your sister and your parents and plans to take everything that belongs to you, including your life. Now Beauregard Gregoire Le Masters, tell me who you really are? Tell me what are you?”
Beau looked at her with those eyes that held the infinity of the bluest, clearest sky. She could see a struggle flicker inside them.
“You already know the answers. You tell me who you think I am, Eve Dowling.”
“You are a being from another realm that has come down to earth. You have harmed my friend, and you have killed Evine and Ms. Clarisse,” Eve said. “And for some reason you want something from me?”
There was an edge of anger bubbling beneath Eve’s tone. No matter how she tried she couldn’t disguise it.
“Am I right?” she demanded, raising her voice.
“Give yourself to me,” he whispered. “…and I will give you untold pleasure and create for you your most wondrous dreams come true.”
He stepped closer to her.
“My dreams and desires are pretty wondrous,” Eve said, trying to let her sarcasm give her courage.
Eve looked again into his eyes. There was something more profound, more sensual, more incredible than she had ever seen before in those eyes.
“I know your dreams and fantasies. Let me show you your life with me,” he said and stretched his hand out to her.
Eve looked down at the large hand with long elegant fingers cupped and waiting to be filled with her own small hand.
“First,” she said, “…show your true self to me. Stop using Beau’s body and let me see who you really are. Let me understand why you have come into my life, and more important, into my world in a disguise. I want to see you as your true self and I want to know what you want from me.”
“So, this form is not pleasing to you?” he asked and smiled.
It was that boyish smile that melted her heart and fired shocks of electricity through her body. His smile always touched some deep primal instinct inside her. It was the need to make him happy, to please him, to give him anything and everything he wanted because he made her feel he would do the same for her. She could love him and he could love her unconditionally if she just let go.
“Let go,” a strange voice whispered sweetly in her ear.
Something inside of her knew that if she did release to him, he in return would give her unimaginable pleasures. Not just physical pleasure but divine bliss. Eve was being seduced by whatever primal power he had over her. He was using it to reach inside her heart, her body and her mind. He knew how to ignite the raw hunger of desire.
How could something that felt so right be so wrong, so hideously evil? This man who waited before her was her soul mate. She’d known it the moment they met at his family’s estate.
“Say you love me as I love you,” he whispered.
“I…I…love you Beau, with all my heart,” she said.
Without taking a step toward her he was next to her, his arms around her, his lips pressing against hers. Eve felt her body ignite. They finished that first sweet kiss and Beau gently moved his hand from her waist, slipping it under her blouse and cupping his fingers around her breast. She felt her nipples harden. His other hand was down her pants between her legs, slipping a single finger inside of her. She wrapped herself around it, clenching the muscles of her inner walls. Eve stepped back. Her vulva was throbbing. She was more than wet. She was ready.
“Please, show yourself to me,” Eve said breathlessly.
“What if you are afraid?” he whispered. “I can’t lose you. Not now.”
“Then don’t deceive me. If you love me, give me all that you are,” Eve said. “If I’m worthy of this love, I want to see and be with all of you.”
“If I love you?” he asked and smothered her with kisses. His mouth pulled slowly from her lips and kissed her face and under her chin, sucking on the skin of her neck. He pulled her jacket and blouse open and dragged it off her shoulder. He kissed his way down and licke
d her nipple then took her breast inside his mouth and sucked and licked ever so gently. His mouth was warm and wet and soft. His tongue played attentively with her erect nipple.
This time Eve reached down shoving her hand into his pants and grabbing his erect cock. It was throbbing and with her touch engorged itself and became bigger and harder, living, hot steel.
“All of you. You know I want all of you, the part of you that is Beau and the part of you that is… Nephilim. No more illusions.”
His eyes flashed open and met hers. She was staring at his face, Beau’s face. His nostrils flared with the fury of a great bull as he breathed great sucking breaths of air.
Pheromones exuded from her body, wafting up between them and riding on the air. She could smell the amber honey and a wisp of pepper, but there was another scent: the scent of wild summer peaches warming in the hot sun. Their smells blended together into a cacophony of pleasure, but it was the peach, with all its sweetness that blossomed, pungent and powerfully delicious. It ignited his passion. She could see his manhood bulge in her hand, rising straight up like a heat seeking missile. Her denying him aroused him even more than her surrender. She was teasing him. Eve knew it and so did the Nephilim.
“Show me who you are,” she whispered.
“You would be afraid to look on me,” he said.
Eve looked at him. She studied his expression and the calmness and control his eyes reflected back at her.
“You believe I would be afraid of something I saw and liked and wanted more than some mere human. You are a son of love. Why should I settle for the illusion?”
It was the blink between two gunfighters in a gunfight the moment before pistols were drawn. She knew in that instant she had him. He had an ego, and it was huge. In that moment, that slight hesitation, his face acquiesced as he stood there scrutinizing her challenge, analyzing her body language, her facial expression, trying to read if her challenge was real.