But when I look at him - Oh, when I look at him! - , And I see the orange fire in his pupils, hypnotic, that demands and obtains my submissiveness, his being is creeping back into my veins. And again, I am reduced only to instinct.
/’Who could ever believe that in the midwinter frost, nor a being that was colder than the cold that surrounded us, I could burn like a flame? And I would have surrendered to him. I certainly would. I do not know whether or not now be grateful for the extraordinary control he had. Perhaps, if he would have made me his things would be different now. I do not know if worse or better, but certainly different. I know that now. But then...’/
Then he raised me up in his arms as if I weighed less than a feather. And his frozen touches that befall me on every hidden corner of my body make me to cling to him as he is my life belt in the mid-ocean. Because Dane is now my focus. I'm not aware of anything else. Neither the frost around, nor that he's cold as ice; neither of what we are doing, or anything. All I see, all I feel is reduced only to Dane, to the strength of his body, to the scent which fills my nostrils, to the way his skin tastes under my tongue, too, the orange flames of his eyes…
My heart beats so hard that I feel it up to my pounding ears. I feel like I liquefy inside and my whole being longs for an ‘I do not know what’, after a pain that would be a pleasure and fulfillment that only Dane can give me.
However, he strains his body so hard, that he leaves me the impression that his veins that took to the stand are going to break. The effort he makes is so great that a loud agonizing sound leaves his lips. And then, with me in her arms, he jumps into the ice water.”
I feel that my heart stops. My lungs are filled with such a low temperature that can no longer breathe. All those wonderful sensations disappear, their place being taken by a frozen shock. My mind is clear. And with clearing my mind, the shame that only a few moments ago I imagined, came. I make a move to get rid of Dane. Because he still holds me in his arms.
“Don’t.” he says softly. “I won’t let you go. And no matter how hard you're struggling I just won’t do that. All that you will be able to do will be hurting yourself.”
I leave my head down, and in front of my eyes, his white, smooth, beautiful chest appears, as if carved. So I am more than aware of our nakedness, which does nothing but to further increase my embarrassment. Dane puts his chin on top of my head. It is a little better than to have to look him in his eyes. I say in my mind all sorts of invectives against myself. However, I cannot turn back the clock, and I cannot withdraw anything I did. All I have to do is to assume responsibility for my actions. I take a quick pick at him I'm ready to actually bite him if he makes any inappropriate remarks.
“So… what do you say? Will you come tomorrow to meet my family?”
His question is so misplaced in the context in which we find ourselves that I burst out in laughter unwillingly. Embarrassment disappears as if by magic. And as once the acknowledging that I still was still in Dane’s arms. Only that now I am vvvvvvvvery cold. Enough to start chattering my teeth. Of course, it’s not also his case.
Coming out with me out of the water, and before I should be ashamed, he starts to rub my body with his clothing, then he dresses me up like a doll, with my clothes.
“I won’t drink champagne in my whole life.” I say.
He looks at me suddenly and seriously.
“I thought you would react like this once you have recovered. You still react better than I hoped for. And I know that you are blaming me for what just happened. I might say that I'm sorry, but I’m not. That's it. I can't help myself for not being sorry. I'm sure you are for both of us.”
I don't even know what to say, because I know somehow that he is right in what he says, although not entirely. Then his eyes darkened. He brushed a finger over my face.
“I’ve caused you bruises.” he says, regret could easily be read both in his voice, as well as in his eyes. “Forgive me. Forgive me for that, if you can. But you know, if that helps you, that for me it was incredible. The most perfect moment of my entire existence.”
Without any embarrassment and in slow gestures he puts on his wet clothes. I did not look at him, even if a few minutes ago I was avidly curious about the way he looked like. So I turned back. I then felt his presence behind me, although I have not heard when he approached. He puts his hands on my shoulders. I jump. He stiffens, but he doesn’t let go of me.
“I've tried not to let myself rules by my instincts. I tried to stop it before it begins. I am to be despised for being so weak, for not being able to control myself as much as I would like. As I told you, my senses are much inflated compared to yours. My reactions are much, much faster, and much, much more intense. But you know what? Although I look so weak, I realized I, in fact, am very strong. And not because I am, but because you make me so. There was a moment when I have oscillated between my desire to harm you and the wish to make you mine for forever. It would have been wrong any decision I would be taking. So I was, in fact the two times more powerful, because I have done nothing of all this.”
I remained quiet. So did he.
“Say something.” he tells me later.
“What would you like me to say?” I say slowly.
“For one, you could say that you forgive me.”
/’If I had known back then the huge effort he indeed made, not only that I have forgiven him, but I would have fallen at his feet, thankfully, able to kiss even his shadow. Now, I'm glad I have forgiven what I did not understand, but I don't have any gratitude for him. Now, all that I have are those dual feelings from the start, and perhaps not even those. Back then I oscillated between attraction and repulsion. Now, it is much more serious, much more intense. Now, I balance between life and death. How trivial seem all those feelings and how easy it to judge them now is! Or perhaps now, as back then, I make the same mistake, the mistake of thinking too much about myself. Perhaps I’m doing indeed the same thing. But back then...’/
Then I nodded approvingly.
“I don't even know what to forgive.” I laugh a little shakily. We've been in that both of us wouldn't we?”
Dane smiles.
“I, for one, at least, I hope so.”
And his happy yellow lights came back in his eyes, lights that I enjoy.
Away, we can hear fireworks. Colored light from them reaches up to us.
“Happy New Year!” He tells me.
“Happy New Year! “ I say in return
Chapter Ten
The worst days in winter are those when, being snow, it begins to rain. Once, because the snow turns into the gutter, and once, because the rain is very, very cold. And unfortunately, it seems that today, when I have to go to Danes home to meet his family, is one of the days I just mentioned. I think that the rest of his family might not like me when they will see who I am. Although, I might as well find acceptance and friendship.
Remembering last night makes my heart stop for a moment. It will be extremely difficult for me to face Dane. Now I really will not have any chance to argue that he’s not my boyfriend. Not after what happened last night. As I expected, there are bruised from Dane's fingers on my face and on my body.
“Mom, I have to go for a little while!”
I expect her to reply to me, but I don't hear any sound.
“Mom?”
I go back to the shelter of cartons and get petrified. My mother is down on the floor, in an unnatural position. I get a thrill of horror.
I panic and I do not know what to do. I am blocked. Then, a wave of adrenaline passes through me.
I lean over her. I get her pulse rate. Although very weak, I can still feel it. Her breast rises and lowers spasmodically. She cannot breathe. She has her lips purple, as well as the color of her face. I haven't the slightest doubt that if I'm not going to do something, and quickly, my mother will die. I can't imagine such a thing. I put on her my jacket. Put the hood on her head and tied it under her chin. It’s raining by the bucket. With forc
es I didn’t know I even have, I lift her, and I put her on my back. When I go out, a wall of cardboard falls. I couldn’t care less about that.
I have almost collapsed under the first burst of rain. The frozen water droplets seem thousands of needles stabbing my skin. I shake a little. From my back, my mother let out a groan. A pick her again. Her hands, more inert, hang around my neck, touching my chest. She hasn’t enough power to enclaspe me. I try to keep my balance and hers, at the same time. I hasten as much as possible, though it's a pretty large distance to the hospital. I hear the noise of a car behind me. I pray to stop and take us to the hospital. But the car rushes past us, throwing a wave of cold water over us. Several cars pass. No-one stops.
And although I push and I push forward my legs it is as if they have a will of their own. I fall on my knees. I am drenched and frozen to the bone. I take the burden off my back, and I lay her head on one of my knees.
The fateful truth is so obvious that it would not have to check her heartbeat. That probably has stopped long ago.
I do not accept that. My mother is not dead.
I barely lift her and her hands clasped, I pull her.
“Come on, Mom, help me too!”
With my last power, I pull her, dragging her through the snow began to have the mud color. But I fail to drag her more than a few meters. I slid her hands, and then they fall apart next to her inert, lifeless body.
I crashed on my knees, next to her. Rain streams down my body, everywhere. It drains my hair, my face, and my lips. The cold rain is slightly salty. Much like tears. I do not know if I am crying or not. They can be tears. Or it can be just water falling on me from heaven. I spasmodically shake, uncontrollably.
Another car passes near us, and it splashes us. I cannot judge. I cannot rationalize. And I do not want to do that. Because if I do, I would have to realize that I was alone.
/’I don't know if you've ever lost a loved one in such manner, in a way that you know that you will never see that person again; that she's lost forever, and you don't have any power to do anything to change this. I don't know if you've ever felt a strong desire to howl, to yell, to raise your fists as injustice, as helplessness. Back then I didn’t think it can be something worse than that. Now I know that it's possible things be worse than that. Now. But back then...’/
Then all I could do was to put my wet face on her inert, cold dead body. I remember that I caressed her greasy hair, with rather harsh motions. Then I took her head in my arms and I started wiggling her like a child. I closed my eyes.
I don't know how much time has passed. But I'm sure it's been quite enough. But not enough time for tears. Did you ever feel a pain so deep that you simply can't cry?
I feel my heart so hardened, so empty, and so full of rage against the world, against life, that I feel that I am nothing more than a robot now.
I feel guilty at the same time.
I wonder if I could have done more for her. I wonder if, from the moment I realized that she is ill, I would have been able to do something to save her. My mother was dying little by little while I was fooling around with my so called boyfriend. A great contempt against my own kind penetrates my inside. I should be able to judge the cold light of dawn, and not to blame Dane as well. But I can’t be so logical, because I need to blame someone else besides me. I hate him as much as I hate myself. I despise him equally I despise myself. I am disgusted with both of us, equally.
It's something odd that strange, real, earthly things cross my mind, while grief paralyzes me inside.
As in a dream, I recall carrying her back to the shelter of cardboard. Her lifeless body seemed doubled its weight. I never lifted anything so hard before. The bright side - if I may say so – is that I didn’t feel the cold that froze me to my bone, but I began not only to warm up, but even sweating.
I wonder how I will bury her. Where to bury her. Somehow unreal, I am convinced that I don’t fully and truly understand my loss. And I do not want to do this. I cannot call anyone; I do not have money for the pit, for the coffin, for anything. Little more anger rises in my soul.
“What's that noise?”
I'm so tired that I did not bother to answer. When dad saw us, he widened his eyes. In his hand, there is the usual bottle. For me, it was always a mystery how he managed to get hold of alcohol. And it probably will remain. He's drunk. He can barely stand up. He takes a few stumbling steps towards us, but he loses his balance. I see everything as it would happen in slow motion. The way he staggers, the way he falls, the way his temple is striking the sharp corner of the table, drops of blood bouncing, and the way his heavy body dropped to the floor. I couldn’t close my eyes. This trivial way my dad just died is incredible, and I feel a hysterical cackle rises in my throat. I check his pulse. Nonexistent. I think it’s too sudden, too much death First my mother, then my dad. Will I be next? Of course, I did not know that there are more ways to die...
This question gives me, in fact the answer to the most difficult questions that troubled me earlier, related to my mother's funeral. Now, there are two of them to be buried. My eyes fell on the glass of booze.
I know exactly what I have to do. Rain was transformed into snowflakes. I have all the chances to succeed with my plan. I take a look around. I have nothing to take with me. Not even memories. I carefully avoid watching the two corpses.
I spill the bottle and I light a match. As I expected, everything began to burn. The surroundings are only old cartons, old wooden furniture. There will be nothing left of the two dead bodies. The flames were high, consuming everything in their path. Nothing will show how many bodies were here. Why not three bodies? Who will know?
The falling snow cannot extinguish the fire. It will remain only ashes, and nothing will stand facing the fire that has been raised so high that they are going to touch the sky.
The smell of burnt human flesh reaches my nostrils. It is sickening. My mouth fills up with gastric juice. The cartons in flames grudge ones over others.
It would be better for me to go. Traces of my steps will be covered soon with a new layer of snow. Even the wildest beast will no longer be able to get my trace. The flames will be seen. I just hope that they will be seen late enough. I do not throw back any glance as I departed. For everyone who knows me, I will be dead.
I am so far, that I barely see a little smoke in the place that so far ought to be destroyed altogether. I hear a howling that makes the entire hair on my body stands on its end. The most agonizing pain, the most penetrating sound was heard up to me. I shudder. The sound of it contains too much pain, too much suffering, it gives you the feeling of such a loss, that you could never get over.
I stumble over and I throw up spasmodically. It seems to me that the howl continues endlessly.
It is only now that I began to cry. The roar I hear forces my explosions of tears.
And I cry until I don't have tears to cry. And cry until I don't have soul to cry.
I have my mind and my soul emptied. Perhaps Dane was right when he said that on the inside I am like the winter.
It's late night when I realize that my steps brought me to Kyrya and Dom’s house.
“My God, girl.” Kyrya tells me when facing me.
Now I know for sure that Kyrya and Dom are, like Dane and his family, not normal people.
“Dom, quickly, take her in the house! She's frozen and wet soaking.”
I didn't have enough free will.
I remember how Dom took me in his arms like I was a doll. Then, my memories fade easily. I went into a large bathtub with hot water, nice, fresh smelling clothes, and warm, tasty, plenty of food. Through big gulps, I began to talk
“And you’re absolutely sure no one will look for you and the whole world thinks you're dead?”
I nod approval, while I chew my food, consciously. I rather feel than see the exchange glances between the two of them.
“Maybe I will give a tour in there to make sure.” I hear Dom’s voice. “Although I still th
ink it is a bad idea what you want, Kyrya…”
“Please, Dom, don't bother me with that. A want her and period.”
Dom sighs and he goes out the door, leaving me alone with Kyrya. After a moment of silence, she begins to speak.
“You... you lost your parents, and I lost my daughter. Do you want us to be your parents as we want you to be our new daughter?”
I stop chewing, but I do not drown in shock. Somehow, today I aged a lot, and I'm surrounded by a wall of cynicism that even the most powerful bulldozer cannot break through. What have I got to lose? I will have a beautiful mansion, fashionable clothing, and I will not know what cold or poverty will mean. People will no longer point their fingers at me, they will not laugh at me, they will not yell at me, and they will not spit their insults at me. Cars will not pass by me and my dead mother to wet us. My heart tightens. I swing on the chair, back and forth as to alleviate my pain.
“Well then? What do you say?”
I nodded slowly.
“Lovely!” Kyrya enjoys, clapping her hands.
Dom appears on the door. Kyrya is looking quizzically at him.
“She was right. Everyone thinks the whole family died. And, apart from certain quite repulsive smells, nothing suspicious.”
Again, I find that part of their conversation has a hidden meaning.
“Then, if you come across such odors, we must get out of here.”
“Kyrya, I still believe that...”
The woman makes a hand gesture as if her decision is taken.
“Tomorrow we start preparations to leave for the house in Europe. We shall go to France.”
And her tone admitted no contradiction.
It wasn’t the first night that I woke up from a terrible nightmare in which I saw my mother’s purple face opening her eyes at me, and raising her fingers at me, reprovingly. It wasn’t the first time I could see in my mind how she died. Many nights, over many years, I dreamed of fire, I felt the smell of burnt human flesh, and I heard that howl of an animal, forever agonizing, painfully.
The Huntress Book 1 Memories Page 9