In the Flesh

by K D Grace

  In the garden on a stone bench sat two men in quiet conversation. Neither of them was Michael, but I recognized the darker of the two as Alonso. He sat with his arm around the shoulder of the other. The tone of their speech was soft and conversational, and I leaned forward over the stone railing, holding my breath to hear something, anything that might give me a clue as to what was going on and where I was.

  Alonso was speaking to his companion, who offered a soft laugh at whatever the man had said. It was as Alonso slid his hand down the man’s back to rest low on his hip and drew him close that I realized what I was watching, what I was listening to, had become intimate and no longer had anything to do with me. Just as I was about to retreat into the study and go back to my room, Alonso pivoted on the bench and looked up at me.

  I swallowed back a yelp and stumbled away from the railing. Not terribly subtle, but it was dark, and I’d managed neither to fall nor cry out. I certainly had done nothing wrong. The doors to the study had been open and inviting. If Alonso had not wanted me there, all he would have had to do was close the door. But then again, supposedly I was notorious for opening doors not meant to be opened.

  I was halfway across the study when Alonso’s large form suddenly blocked the door in front of me. This time I did yelp.

  His full lips twisted in a wicked smile, then he offered me a very formal bow. “Alonso Darlington at your service, Madame.” The man was not quite as big as Michael—nearly as tall, but of a more slender build. Still, he gave the illusion that he was much larger than even the angel. “I’m sorry for startling you, Ms. Innes. I forget sometimes to make noise when I approach. I have startled Reese terribly more times than I care to admit. Though the other members of my staff and my colleagues are used to my… unusual ways, for Reese’s sake, I truly am trying.”

  It wasn’t so much his silence as it was his speed that startled me. No human could have moved from the garden below so quickly. “Reese is the one you were with?” I asked, steadying myself on the edge of a large antique desk that dominated the room, willing my pulse to slow to a gallop. If this Alonso wasn’t human, the last thing I wanted was to anger him by saying the wrong thing.

  “The one you saw me with.” His face lit up with a smile that I knew full well was reserved for thoughts of one’s lover. “Yes, that’s Reese.”

  “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  “Your intrusion, my dear, is hardly your fault. And I do apologize for the state of the room you have been forced to endure. High View is being renovated at the moment, after a very long period of being uninhabited, and we are in a shambles. And of course, I’m deeply sorry for my less than cordial welcome.”

  “You don’t like Maggie, whoever the hell she is. I got that. Frankly, I don’t like her very much either, so no need to apologize.”

  “It isn’t so much that I don’t like her. I have a great deal of respect for the woman, and in truth, I owe her much.” He moved to stand next to me, and I sensed him studying me, but looking into his eyes made me feel ever so slightly off balance, so I looked away, taking in the surroundings of what was not a study at all, but a lovely library that would have fit right into any stately home I’d ever toured. The kind of library within which I could have happily taken up residence in and never left. “It’s just that whenever Magda Gardener shows up, things get more complicated than I’d like them to be, and I try very hard to keep things simple and to not draw attention to myself. It was she, by the way, who suggested I leave the library open for you to explore. She seemed to think you would take pleasure in it.”

  Then, as if he anticipated my next question, he added, “Your friend is sleeping peacefully. Magda and your angel are with her at the moment.”

  “He’s not my angel,” I snapped.

  Alonso offered a low, throaty chuckle. “Oh, I think that he is, my dear.” Before I could protest, he pulled an iPhone from the pocket of his black jeans, punched in a number and waited for a second, then I heard a woman answer.

  He offered me a quick, reassuring smile that was nearly as hypnotic as my first glance into his eyes. “Talia, darling, if you’re finished, our guest is awake and we have need of you in the library.” He returned the phone to his pocket and motioned me to the leather sofa in front of his desk.

  I happily obliged, my legs still feeling none too steady.

  “You must be hungry. I’ve had Cook prepare something for you, figuring that the monstrosity who held you prisoner would have had little forethought for your creature comforts.” Then he added, “No doubt your angel has encouraged you to eat. Food is always essential in the presence of magic or one can find oneself in serious trouble.”

  I didn’t tell Alonso that the monstrosity he referred to had, indeed, seen to my creature comforts, though I had no idea how long ago it had been. It bothered me that I found myself wanting to defend Him.

  Alonso sat on the edge of the desk and crossed his legs at the ankles. I noticed he wore scuffed hiking boots, but then that was to be expected in the fells. “You say you have no memory of releasing this… entity into the world?”

  “I have… sketchy recollections of dreams I had that night, the night it must have happened, but honestly, I don’t know how I could have done such a thing. I couldn’t even find my way around the shambles of a garden at Chapel House, and I had no idea where the key was to the place where He was apparently kept prisoner. I seriously doubt if Annie did either.”

  “He… yes, well, it would have been easy enough for Him to guide you and for Him to give you the location of the key if a physical key were necessary. I’m inclined, however, to believe that the key was magical, and you, being a scribe, would indeed have the imagination to figure out what was needed to release… Him.”

  “But why would I do that? Why?” I asked.

  Almost before I knew he had moved, Alonso sat next to me and took my hand into his, which was large, slightly calloused and cold. My first urge at the rush of current up through my arm and straight to my heart was to pull away, but his grip was firm, and I was afraid to move, feeling like a rabbit in the headlights. Then he spoke, and I found myself relaxing into the hypnotic lilt of his voice, with its slightly strange accent and its deep-chested baritone. “For the love of your craft, Ms. Innes, for the love of your craft. That certainly is reason enough. Surely you know that by now.”

  He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb, and I found myself calming still further. “Were you not inspired by the crypt at Chapel House, by the tangle of the garden, by the fact that it was once holy ground? I’m certainly no writer, and yet such places stimulate my imagination. Do you not think that such an entity as the one you’ve released would have recognized your urge to tell a story, your imagination so stimulated, and taken advantage if it were at all possible?”

  Then he leaned close, holding my gaze, and I felt as though I were falling. “Does not the Bible itself say that the word became flesh and dwelt among us, that the word is living and active and sharper than any double-edged sword? Words hold power, my dear woman, power that nothing else in the history of human culture, nothing else in the history of our human nature, holds. The storytellers of old were revered. They sat in the presence of kings and queens as their equals.”

  With a sweeping gesture, he took in the bookshelves that rose from floor to ceiling all around us. “Some of the words in this room were written thousands of years ago. Those who penned them have long ago turned to dust, and yet we read their words, their stories, and we’re transported, at times transformed, by the minds of men and women long dead. Surely you don’t think that an entity who has existed as long as the one connected to Chapel House would not know this, would not seize the opportunity to take advantage of the magic of the mind of a scribe and the stories she can create?”

  “But it was never my intention. I didn’t mean to. I only… We were drunk, excited about Annie’s new home. We were celebrating, telling stories. I… I always tell stories.”


  Alonso smoothed the hair away from my face and held my gaze. “You underestimate the power of your magic. I understand, my darling. You’re not the first scribe to have done so, nor are you the first to have paid a high price for such a mistake. You’re among the greats in that.”

  He glanced around the room at the myriad books, and then offered me a reassuring smile. “Never mind. First you must eat, and then we shall see what we can do to aid your memory.”

  Almost as if by magic, a man dressed in full livery arrived with a silver tray and sat it on a table near the window. Alonso took my hand and guided me to sit in front of eggs, toast and porridge, all washed down by rich, dark, French roast coffee. He watched me eat silently, making no effort to join me. But then it was the middle of the night.

  I had just finished the last of the toast with homemade raspberry jam when a tall woman in a form-fitting turquoise dress knocked softly on the open door and let herself in. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was—well, for lack of a better word, she was stunning. She had dark, thick hair, startling blue eyes, and she had that way about her that made more ordinary people, myself included, want to be close to her so that they could look at her, just constantly look at her, because surely this kind of strange beauty couldn’t be real. Then I was reminded of Alonso’s sudden movement, of his all but admitting he wasn’t human, and I suddenly wasn’t so sure about the woman either.

  Alonso stood and embraced her, kissing her on the cheek. The two mumbled softly for a few seconds, glancing occasionally over their shoulders at me. Then he took her hand and led her forward. “Ms. Innes, I’d like you to meet Talia. She’s a colleague and a dear friend of mine. She knows your problem, and recovering lost memories and understanding people’s dreams is her specialty.” He shrugged. “Well, one of them, anyway.”

  The woman studied me for a second, then smiled and nodded her greeting. I seemed incapable of doing anything more than smiling and nodding back.

  “Now that introductions have been made,” I forced my gaze away from her and back to Alonso, “if you’ve had enough to eat, my dear Ms. Innes, and you’re ready, Talia is going to sleep with you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “What?” I came out of the chair, nearly upsetting my coffee cup onto the white linen tablecloth the servant had spread. “Talia’s going to sleep with me? Are you crazy?” I could imagine Annie getting a good laugh out of this, elbowing me in the ribs, saying if I wasn’t up for the task she’d be happy to oblige.

  “Oh, it’s nothing sexual,” Alonso reassured me, gently patting my arm.

  “Well,” the woman said with a modest shrug and a dip of her blue eyes that said she was checking me out. “It could be, if you want it to be.”

  Before I could totally panic, Alonso slipped an arm around my shoulder and glared at this Talia person. “You’ll have to forgive my colleague, Ms. Innes. She has a very strange sense of humor. I promise, she’ll do nothing you don’t invite.”

  I didn’t miss the threat in his voice, clearly aimed at the woman. Then he turned his full attention on me. “And I would suggest that what you do invite be nothing more than the sharing of dreams, considering that your… love life, as it were, is already somewhat complicated. You don’t need to add another complication to the menu.”

  “To the menu.” The woman chuckled wickedly. “Oh, I like that turn of phrase, darling. Perhaps you should have been a scribe yourself.” She spoke to Alonso, but her gaze was locked on me. “She does look practically edible, don’t you think? Though I’m guessing you’re probably well-sated after feasting on Reese.”

  Alonso growled at her. He actually growled and, I think—yes, I’m certain, he bared his teeth! My skin prickled and the fine hairs on the back of my neck rose. For a moment, I swear the man seemed more animal than human and, between him and the woman, who eyed me like I was dinner, I felt like I had been set loose in the primordial woods with the wild beasts.

  “What’s going on here?”

  I started at the sound of another woman’s voice, one I’d heard in the dark of the crypt, and turned to see Maggie, with Michael right behind her.

  If I hadn’t been wrong-footed and frightened already, I certainly was now. Alonso and Talia might have been scary beasts in the woods, but Maggie was the huntress everyone feared, myself included. Even Talia was instantly subdued by her presence. In the midst of raised hackles, Michael came to my side and slipped a possessive arm around me, literally pulling me away from Alonso, just as a ginger-haired man in jeans and a plaid shirt entered the room.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  Talia offered half a smile. “Of course it’s not, Reese. Come on in. You might as well join the fun.” She gave Maggie a sideways glance and stepped up to flank Alonso on one side while Reese came to his other.

  For a moment the room was deathly silent. Only Maggie stood alone, nearly blinding in her golden brilliance, and I couldn’t keep from wondering how someone so stunning could be so terrifying, and why. Even Talia paled in comparison—especially on my fright-meter.

  The minute her gaze turned on me, even from behind the strange dark glasses she wore, I felt a tingle bone-deep, as though I had just passed beneath a high-tension wire and a million volts was just a heartbeat away.

  “How’s Annie?” Christ in heaven, I don’t know how I found my voice in front of her. Maybe because I was still pissed off that she’d left me in the crypt at Chapel House. But she had rescued my friend, something I’d made a thorough cock-up of. I owed her hugely for that.

  “I’ve done what I can for her.” Her voice was like honey dripping over hot flame. “She’s resting comfortably.” She moved forward, gaze still locked on me, until she stood close enough I could feel her breath on my face, cool and sweet like the fell air. I was sure she could see how my pulse raced in my throat at her nearness. “Right now I need to know what you did to release the Chapel House Guardian, so I can learn how to return him to his prison. He was there for a reason, you know. Though I imagine you’ve figured that out by now.”

  She gave me no time to defend myself and, if what everyone said was true, I had no defense anyway. “Since you have no memory of the momentous occasion, I need you to sleep with the succubus.”

  “Succubus? She’s a succubus?” I nodded to Talia, who only shrugged modestly. “You’ve got to be kidding me! I have a demon trying to seduce me, an angel who’s marked me, and by the way, Michael, that mark—it hurts like a sonovabitch when the demon gets mad, and now you want me to sleep with a succubus? Honestly, I don’t see how the hell—”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Talia broke in, “stop being such a drama queen. Do you really think I want to incur Magda’s wrath?” She gave the woman a quick nod of her head. “If you want sex, you won’t get it from me. I’ll just tiptoe through your little dreamscape all nice and polite-like, and prod a memory here and there as needed. You won’t even know I’m there. Your loss,” she added with a wicked grin.

  “I’ll stay with you,” Michael said, giving Talia the look he might reserve for a rabid wolf.

  She cursed under her breath. “Anyone else want to join in? Why don’t we just make an orgy of it? Oh, I forgot—no sex.”

  “Shut up, Talia,” Alonso said. “We’ve already discussed this.”

  Embarrassed by Talia’s bluntness and by my ridiculous whining when my friend’s life was in danger, I squared my shoulders and found my voice, cowardly though it was. “What do I have to do?” I asked, hoping my trembling wasn’t as obvious as it felt to me. I was pretty sure it was only Michael’s support that was holding me upright at that moment.

  “You just have to go to sleep and dream,” Talia said.

  “The juice,” Alonso spoke, nodding to the empty orange juice glass on the breakfast table. “It contained some herbs that will make you drowsy very shortly. You’ll sleep in Talia’s arms.” He nodded toward the door. “You should probably return to your room shortly, unless you want Michael to ca
rry you.”

  “When were you going to tell me about this juice, about being drugged?”

  “I just did,” Alonso replied. “Besides, as Magda has said, we really have little choice if we want to put this monster back where he belongs and save your friend’s life.”

  Magda lifted my chin on the curl of her fingers and, I swear, if Michael hadn’t been holding me, I would have fallen through the floor. Even through her glasses, there was something about being the center of her attention that made me feel like I was being unraveled one molecule at a time. But when she spoke, the situation became very tightly focused indeed. “Susan, if I can’t sever Annie’s link with the Guardian, she will die. She’s been under his thrall too long. You’re the key, like it or not, and if you’re not willing to do whatever it takes, then it’s best you put a bullet in your friend’s brain right now, because her death will neither be easy nor quick. Do you understand me?”

  There were no more jokes, no more snipes. The room was silent as a grave as I stepped away from Michael. “All right.” I glanced at Talia, who nodded in return and stepped forward. “If it’s all the same to everyone, I’d like to make it back to my room under my own power.” I was beginning to feel like my tongue belonged to someone else, and the floor seemed a long way from my feet. With Michael on one side and the succubus on the other, I carefully maneuvered my way back down the hall. It was only as Michael kissed me possessively and tucked me beneath the duvet that I noticed Magda perched on the edge of a sailor’s trunk in the corner near the bathroom.

  “Are you the audience?” I slurred.

  “Afraid so, darling. Traditionally the dreamer and her dream walker are witnessed by a third party who doesn’t sleep and remains uninvolved in events so she can awaken the dreamers if… there are problems.”

  “Are you expecting problems?” I looked from Talia to Magda and back again, to find Talia was stripping out of her clothes. For a second that thought disturbed me, but I was way past holding a thought in my head for very long.