I’d signed up for an e-publishing account last night and had started working on the book before heading to bed. I’d only intended to work for an hour, but once I got to writing again, I’d found that flow, that groove, that made it so difficult to stop. I’d written three chapters and proofed them to flawlessness. The words had flown from my head and through my fingers as I’d typed.
I wished I was home writing now, instead of at a somewhat seedy bar at 11:00 am.
Liam had taken care of the first cull, at the Curio shop. Nice tactic to keep an eye on me for longer. Make me sit through the first cull. Nicklaus had met us there. I still had refused to watch the death and left the shop to wait outside. Neither Liam nor Michael had seemed to mind.
I’d overheard that my cull was to choke on an olive. Seriously.
My cull went very well. It went beyond very well actually. In fact, somewhere off faintly behind me, I heard Liam utter the words, ‘beyond perfection’ in a tone that may have suggested a trace of respect.
It’s like I hit a zone and something was suddenly different, even more than the previous day, and that something that I’d been feeling…that energy, that coolness, that warmth, that whatever was suddenly snapping fully into place. It started sparking and igniting inside me and as it swirled and grew around my heart and spread to the tips of my fingers and toes, I no longer felt jaded and resentful. Not about having to cull, and not even about my death.
It all dissolved.
I could feel it pulling outward, releasing, from the center of me—from my mhésen? And moving out, spreading from me again like that night at the club, but its purpose though similar, was for a another intention at this moment. I wanted to be cold and detached, removed. It had worked so well yesterday. But I couldn’t. It was a startling sensation, but it felt…right.
When I approached my cull I seemed to connect with her, she seemed almost mesmerized. It was gentle and… serene. That warm, glowing that emanated from me—was me—those brilliant wisps touched her, held her. No words were spoken, there was no need. No physical touch was made; there was no need for that either. And I knew, that mysterious knowing—that now seemed to fill up so much of my mind—that seemed to take hold of me so frequently now, knew that this was distinctive, unique. This was how it should be. This was how it would be now.
Her mhésen left its skin, with the same air rippling effect as yesterday’s, and was smiling. She didn’t even look back at her body in sadness. I assured her, that mysterious stuff that was now an intricate part of me assured her, that all was well, all would be beyond her wildest imaginings of well. I knew it would be. It was like I was privy to some wonderfully amazing secret, but I didn’t know what it was, not consciously. But I could feel it. I had to tell Gideon about this.
~Tir Na Óige ~
Should I tell Gideon about this?
The woman smiled and waved, as she went through the Ingress. She looked eager. Her eyes were filled with excitement and awe.
As Liam and Michael had stood there, speechless, mouths agape, I’d excused myself and told them, “Until tomorrow guys.” And breezed out of that dingy bar, I had lunch plans with Serena.
The remainder of the day had flown by quite happily.
I’d left invigorated, charged. Serena had met me at a pub, not Na Sciath Snug, where we’d fueled ourselves with a couple of ales and a plate of Carne Asada nachos before heading to her shop up the street, for crazy girl-bonding stuff. Madcap antics that included: commenting on every cute boy we passed on our walk to Catastrophia, snacking on frozen yogurt as we walked, playing dress-up from the new shipment that had arrived that morning, and dancing like fools all around the shop after she flipped the closed sign—well…okay, some before, but whatever—to Bow Wow Wow, Cheap Trick, Billy Idol, and a bunch of other cool ‘80s hits. It had only been two days, but I felt like I’d found a new best friend, one for this new life.
I considered just walking on by, passing him by, pretending not to see him, but something in my heart just wouldn’t let me. Sitting on one of the benches beneath a gas lamp in my courtyard, deep in thought, was Liam.
I sat down tentatively next him and waited for him to say something. He could start, obviously he was here to say something and I was tired of skirting issues, whether it was his disapproval of my culls or berating me for wanting him, it was time to clear the air.
He sat in absolute silence for a good five minutes, which dragged by at a snail’s pace, while I listened to night birds chirping in the tree. I almost wondered if he was breathing, his silence was so complete.
As my eyes wandered across the courtyard I spotted a huge cat traipsing through the garden. It stopped, sat down, and stared at me. It cocked it large head to the side and seemed to be studying me. It was massive, not a fat cat, but just immense in size…it was the cat from Na Sciath Snug.
“It’s time to work this out. We need to talk about everything calmly.”
I’d missed his voice, this voice, the deep gentle one, the one that had talked me through the long drive here to Seattle. I started to say so, but he stopped me from speaking.
“I’m sorry for being such a tosser. I had no right to treat you that way. You didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t fair to come down on you because Gideon had reprimanded me. It was my fault you didn’t know Scaoileadh. I was so pissed off at him that…” he trailed off and looked me over, then stood suddenly and paced a few steps away from me, purposely putting distance between us.
“I can’t be with you, and yet I have to stay near you?” He barked a spiteful laugh.
“No fraternization huh?” I posed forlornly.
“No, it’s not that…” he paused as if considering his next words. Looked intently at me, measuring my state of mind perhaps? He took a few more steps away. “I dated Halah for awhile. He didn’t have a problem with that at all. It’s you.”
He’d dated Halah? Had she been on his couch? Had she made it to his bed? That made me kind of angry. That was a new twist of the knife. Maybe with a sizable dose of humiliation tossed in too. Halah? I’d come to a resolve over my feelings for Liam, put them to rest, burying them down deep, but it didn’t mean that I wanted to hear about him being with her.
“Why? Why her, but not me?” Halah was good enough for Liam, but I was not. What the hell?
“I don’t know…I just don’t.” He shrugged. But I think he did know.
He doesn’t want you to tell me.” That felt right. That it
was a decision made by Gideon.
Liam eyed me warily. “He won’t let me tell you.”
“Why the secrecy Liam? Why shouldn’t I get to know why I can’t be with you? Would you tell me if it was just a matter of you changing your mind?”
“I didn’t change my mind,” he said huskily.
“Meaning what then? That I’m not good enough? Is this entire thing about me being so different?”
“What? Where did you hear that?”
“I heard you two talking.”
“When? Where?”
“Doesn’t matter. Which is it Liam?”
“Neither actually. Definitely not the first one…you’re more than good enough Iliana.” He searched my face with his eyes; let them glide over me in that way he could do that made me melt. So, it wasn’t his choice…I guess that was some sort of solace.
“But obviously Gideon doesn’t think so.”
“No. No, it’s not that at all.” His face clouded, his eyes grew as dark as the sky. He looked away and I think he mumbled, “Far from it.”
“What…?” I began to ask.
“He’ll be the one to tell you.”
“Just defy him this once, help me out and tell me? Do I not deserve that much? I really liked you Liam…I thought…” I shrugged, shaking my head sadly. “Those kisses did mean something to me…even if they can’t anymore.”
He began moving to me, stopped himself short, his hands at his sides, balled into fists. “I’ve already told you more than I should
. He’d rather you think I don’t want you…” He shut himself down right on the verge of spilling something he wasn’t supposed to. “I’ve known Gideon all my life Iliana, he’s like my brother. I will not go against him. His reasons are valid and I will honor his wishes.” His voice was resolute. End of discussion.
So what was it? What was the reason? Because I was too much of an anomaly and a lingering question to be solved? Perhaps because I wouldn’t be around long enough to risk getting involved with? Could that be it? What else could I do or say?
I moved close to him, ran my fingers over what had to be three days beard growth, he must be going for a new look. It worked on him. He closed his eyes, flinching from my touch so slightly, but then moved into it.
I spoke softly, barely above a whisper, almost lost on the night’s breeze. “You break my heart, looking at you breaks my heart. But I get it, he’s basically your brother and I won’t do anything to get between that, to cause any damage. It’s just so hard…being around you. I really don’t think we should work together, if we can help it. It’s too difficult.” I had to pause to fight down the tears that were threatening my speech. “I really think space would be a good thing to have, if we really can’t…if we never can…” His eyes were still closed. I looked at his lips, so perfectly shaped and wanted one last kiss. “And that’s okay. I do understand. I’ll be fine. But I do need some time.” I held his face in my palms. “Liam, please, can you look at me while I’m saying goodbye to you?” And a tear did escape then.
He opened his eyes and looked at me, searched my face and looked into my eyes. And then I kissed him, one last time. Lightly, but lingering. Then I nodded and backed away. I had to get inside before the rest of the tears began to spill.
He ran his hand thorough his disheveled hair. There was nothing left to be said. He turned away, started to walk, then turned back to me. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the car, the couch, the club…I knew better. I knew and should have acted like it, been responsible.” He shook his head sullenly. “This…” he spread his hands in front of him, “this isn’t how I wanted it to be, this would not be my choice. I think it’s important that you know that. It’s not what I wanted and it’s not easy for me either.” He rubbed his hand across his jaw. “It just is what it is…” and walked away.
I sat on my couch, laptop open. I sighed, shoving all the feelings of the night down under, and admired my tattoo.
It was tender to the touch, felt like fire when I lightly ran a finger along its edge. It was already forming its scab and healing up. I rewrapped the light bandage around my arm and re-secured it.
I opened up the Word document folder that housed my writing, planning to pick up where I’d left off last night. But then I pulled an actual folder across the sofa and opened it. I hadn’t looked through this one last night.
I rifled through it, re-reading pages I’d written a few years ago, before I’d even been published. Ideas that I’d wanted to grow into novels, but after my first book hit the best seller list, my publisher had wanted me to work solely on the series, rather than branching off to another story line, another series. I’d complied, the money was good. And the promises even better. If I were to complete the first series and the popularity held, they would publish my subsequent novels. Now I was relieved they had not bought these ideas. They had no idea of them and held zero rights to these stories.
My eyes roamed over the words, taking them in, they piled up in my head, began spiraling and weaving about inside. The top sheet slid from the stack. I read over the second, the third, the fourth…devouring the notes, the jotted down bits from dreams I’d had just over five years ago. How had I not remembered these? How had I not made the connection as it all unfolded and happened? I felt exhilarated, and sick at the same time. I hadn’t died in the dreams. But everything else was very nearly spot on.
How could I have known? Where did the dreams come from? Would the questions of this new life ever end? Or have answers?
I flipped to the next page, it displayed a roughly done sketch. It was the tattoo. The altered fleur de lys. Very nearly exact to what was engraved into my flesh now.
I remembered thinking what a great book it would all make. How I couldn’t wait to write about it. I’d jot down the basics, what I’d seen and felt, the language, the people and places, working with Death—immediately upon waking, whether it was morning or still dark and in the middle of the night. I’d even made rough sketches of some of what I’d seen.
I could recall precisely how I’d felt about the dreams at the time. Excited, energized, captivated. Again, I hadn’t died in the dreams though.
How was this possible?
~Chapter Twenty-Two ~
“Gideon, it’s not the first time it’s happened. I should have told you before. That night, when I went after her at that dance club—”
The look on Gideon’s face stops him mid-sentence. Such anger. Oh shit, was he telling him about the make-out session in the hallway? Why oh why?
“There was this trembling in the space around her, all around her…it was coming from her.” He pauses as if searching the vocabulary in his head for the right words. “She was…there was this lustrous, radiance…something. And it was warm, invitingly warm. It came from her and wrapped around me. I don’t think she was aware of it. And at the cull today, it was there. I watched as it radiated from her, it was faint, controlled, but it was there. Amber and streaks of violet.”
I watch as he gestures with his hands, trying to emulate with them what I had seen at the club. The wisps of light that grew into tendrils, coming from me, encircling him. No one else had noticed; no one else could see it. I observe as the memory of it settles over his face, hazing over his eyes in remembered lust.
I watch from my upstairs window, looking down to the courtyard where earlier I’d encountered Liam. The same huge cat sits on the bench we had sat on, as if listening to their conversation. He looks up at me. The cat looks up at me, and I swear if a cat could smile, he just beamed a big ole toothy one at me.
A light fog has rolled in, but I can still see them clearly and hear them.
“I’ve never seen anything like it Gideon. At the cull, it did the same thing, it wrapped around her, around the cull, and she looked utterly at peace. It was so simple, so perfect. Flawless. No word, no touch.”
Gideon’s face was frozen in a look of alarm and shock.
“What is she Gideon?”
As I stare at Gideon’s face, soaking in his powerful features, my vision blurs, becomes gauzy and I suddenly feel immersed in cool, soothing wetness.
I’m in a pool of water. Brilliant blue, iridescent water, crystal clear, even in the onset of dusk and the scattering of deepening grey clouds overhead.
It seems that the water should be colder, but it’s not and it’s coming up to nightfall, it’s refreshing.
My outfit from earlier, the sassy little skirt and lace blouse has been replaced with a clingy chemise, a one shouldered sheath of an antique cream fabric I’ve never felt before; gossamer and ethereal. It’s not earthly. It’s not of our realm.
Our realm?
I sink under the water with no need for breath. My eyes are open, taking in the view beneath the still water. The surface I stand on is smooth slate unmarred by sharp rocks or slippery moss. There is a path of multi-colored rocks and pebbles just to my right, so beautiful in its mixed colors of gold, bronze, teal, cerulean, celadon, and sapphire.
The water is silken. I rise from its calming embrace to see Gideon at the water’s edge, behind him the trees rise to great heights, decorated in leaves of fiery orange tones against silver bark. The lichens around his feet on the stone bank are of the same brilliant shades.
I emerge from the smoothness, dripping the iridescent liquid, holding his gaze. Frozen. He is frozen. He is in awe.
A silver mist rises from the water, with me, around me. Spiraling, winding. I feel something at my back as the silvered whorls make their way around me.
>
His eyes widen. Focusing behind me, not on the scenery behind me, but on my back.
Strong. Stretching. Growing. Unfurling. Expanding. Powerful. Enticing.
I see my shadow against the mist, shown off by the fullness of the moon that has quickly reached its pinnacle.
Wings.
My shift is stuck to my wet body…in just the right way.
Gideon can’t tear his eyes from me. His eyes drown in desire.
I can feel it, pouring from him in waves.
Desire.
I will him to me and he moves into the water, causing ever growing ripples that reach me before he does. They caress my body. He peels his shirt over his head and I draw in my breath sharply with how impressive he is.
His face is set, hard set, determined, hungry, wanting…
Me.
~Chapter Twenty-Three ~
I needed to see Gideon. It had been too many days. Almost an entire week.
I had hit a stride with my job. An entire week had flown by and I’d managed to find a groove, a routine, even if it did sort of freak out the others.
I’d meet with Michael at Elysium—Gideon had left him in charge during his absence—have a coffee, some breakfast, then head out for the day’s assignments. Sometimes it was just one cull, another time it had been three. One day there had been none. That was my favorite day; I got a lot of writing done that day. I guess even Death, or at least our department, got days off.
I hadn’t seen Liam all week.
My brain was, as it has been since this adventure began, always full of ever-growing questions. And still no answers. Hence the wanting to see Gideon. It had nothing to do with that super heated dream when he was treading water as fast as he could to get to me. So I’ll keep telling myself…and anyone else who asks. Yep…uh huh.
In actuality, the dreams had increased to nightly, and several times nightly…sometimes even if I dozed on the couch. Strange meanderings in stranger places I’d never been to or seen, except in the dreams. Beautiful lands, visited by equally beautiful people, filled with a beautifully strange language that sounded eerily similar to what Gideon spoke, but so many words which he’d never uttered…and some of them I understood, or got the gist of anyway.
No Time to Cry (Nine While Nine Legacy Book 1) Page 20