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The Akasha Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set: The Complete Emily Adams Series

Page 72

by Natalie Wright


  My stomach could wait no more. I went feral on the hen, not bothering with utensils. I used my fingers to pull off a leg and began sucking it down my gullet. I ate the meat and skin and didn’t worry about how unhealthy it was to eat the fatty skin of the bird. The grease from the hen ran down my chin and dripped from my fingers, but I didn’t care. I picked up a fork and ate half of the potatoes in one bite, followed by two carrots. I washed it all down with a roll dipped into the greasy drippings from the bird on my plate. I grabbed my goblet and drank down the entire glass of red wine in one drink.

  When I finally came up for air, my three dinner companions sat still as stone and stared at me. It was almost as if they were statues. They didn’t blink or smile or even sneer in disgust.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so … hungry.”

  “No need to apologize, Mr. Stevens. Please, enjoy your meal.”

  Dorcha continued to look at me while she used her long, thin fingers to daintily pick a small piece of white meat off of her bird. She put it into her mouth slowly, almost seductively, never taking her eyes from me.

  I turned to Fanny – I mean Berrach – and she, too, kept her eyes on me as she put her wine glass to her lips. She rubbed the rim across her bottom lip and slowly took a drink. When she pulled the glass away, she had a small drop of red wine on her full, red lower lip. She held her lips apart slightly, then slowly flicked her tongue across her lip and sucked in the drop of wine.

  I’d never been attracted to Fanny. Not even for a second. And I don’t know if it was the rich food and glass of wine, or the beautiful décor, or the heady feeling of thinking I was as good as dead and then finding out that I was alive after all, but I felt warmth rising in my lower belly.

  What the hell are you thinking, man? Get down. Now’s not the time.

  “Why deprive yourself, Mr. Stevens? They are beautiful. Any human male would give his soul to spend even one night in their company. Would you like that?”

  Like that? I’d been lying in a broken heap and prayed for a swift end to my misery. Less than an hour later, I sat there, whole and pain free, at a beautiful dinner table eating the best food I’d ever tasted with the company of two of the hottest women I’d ever seen.

  I should have felt guilty for even thinking about fulfilling my carnal fantasies with the body that used to house Emily’s best friend. I should have, but at that moment I wasn’t thinking about Emily or Fanny. I wasn’t thinking about the Umbra Perdita and all that had happened to get us into this mess. I didn’t think about how my family needed me. And I didn’t think about Liam and how I hoped that he’d gotten away and was with the others somewhere, recovering and eating and nursing their wounds.

  I thought only of how it would be great to mash my lips hard against Berrach’s full, red ones and run my hands up inside Dorcha’s dress and feel her small, firm breasts under my fingers. And I thought about how I’d like to eat food like that every day and never feel my stomach double back on itself again in pain from hunger.

  “Yes, yes, I can give that all to you, Mr. Stevens. All of that and more.”

  “How? What do I have to do?”

  “You know what you have to do. Drop your barriers. Open the door, and let me in. I promise you, all of this will be yours.”

  Drop my barriers. I could do that. I had put up a wall around myself to keep him out. It was a wall made of my memories of good times. Of eating dinner with my family and joking around with them. Of my playful banter with Fanny, a game we’d played since we were children. Of playing chess with Liam and eating his burnt food. And of Emily.

  As I thought about dismantling that wall, I touched on each memory, and with each one, I found the wall grew stronger, not weaker. I didn’t want to eat Ciardha’s food, eased out of the ground by bloody fingers and cooked by slaves held against their will. Suddenly the fowl was rancid in my mouth. I wanted to eat Liam’s burnt pancakes and drink Emily’s too-strong coffee.

  I didn’t want to spend my days in the company of soulless shadow people. I wanted to play board games with my little sister and lose on purpose so she could gloat about beating ‘Jakey’ again. I wanted to play catch with my little brother in the driveway until it was so dark we couldn’t see the ball anymore. And I wanted to feel my mom brush the top of my hair with her fingers ’cause she didn’t know if it was still cool to hug her son and kiss him or if I’d push her away.

  And I wanted to bury my face in Emily’s soft pillow of hair and breathe her into me like a vapor. I wanted to hold the air that had once been in her inside me until it mingled around in there and became one exhale of commingled Jake and Emily essence.

  More than anything, I wanted to look into her eyes. I wanted to see eyes that weren’t hollow and dead, but full and alive. Eyes that were a window to a soul.

  “You think I’m that easy? This is the best you can offer? A greasy chicken and two half-dressed soulless sluts. I will not turn, Ciardha. You will not have me.”

  Ciardha’s face darkened, his eyes grew even larger and blacker though I didn’t think it was possible. In one swipe of his hand, the table and its contents flew across the room and smashed into the wall. The fine china crashed into tiny shards of pottery.

  “You should get some anger management counseling.”

  “You impudent little rodent,” he thundered. His voice was so large and loud that it rumbled in my chest.

  One second, I was happy and content. The next, my spine seemed to give out on me, and I fell to the ground. It felt like someone had taken a blade to the backs of my legs, gashing each calf until it was split open to the bone. Once again, breathing caused my ribs to ache, and I felt like an elephant had trampled me.

  I could feel the blood in a pool beneath me on the floor. I was again a broken pile of Jake, waiting for death to take me.

  My left cheek was plastered to the cool marble. I looked up, and Ciardha towered over me, as dark and menacing as ever.

  “Mr. Stevens, you may be even more sadistic than I. You seem to revel in your own suffering. Why else would you will the pain on yourself when the path to wholeness has been laid before you? So be it. If you will not accept the path of ease and pleasure, then I will give you that which you seek. You will suffer, Mr. Stevens. Oh, do not worry. You will not die. Not yet. I will keep you alive long enough. Just until she comes. And she will come for you, I have no doubt. For your sake, she better hurry.”

  “Why?” I rasped. “What do you want with her?”

  “Her? I don’t need her. Oh yes, I will enjoy immensely the power surge I will feel when I take her Lucent Energy and convert it to dark. But that will be nothing compared to the glory of my triumph when I control the torc. Once she is mine, she will use the power of that ancient faerie metal to do my bidding. It will combine my power with Brighid’s. And I will finally be all-powerful. There will no longer be Lucent and Dark, but only the Dark. I will not only be the God of Darkness. I will be the God.”

  “She’ll never serve you, Ciardha. Never.”

  “She will, as will you.”

  It started as a vague burning in the pit of my stomach, but soon became a three-alarm fire throughout my entire body as Ciardha’s Dark Energy coursed through my veins, burning me with his black electricity. I felt my body convulse, and I threw up the amazing food I’d just eaten. I was surrounded by the stench of my own blood and puke; then the smell of urine hit my nostrils. If I’d cared anymore, I’d have been humiliated that I’d pissed myself.

  I am of the light. I am Lucent. I love, and I have hope. I love. I love.

  I tried my best to hold onto positive thoughts while my blood boiled inside my veins.

  You can kill me, but that will only release me to be at one with Akasha. And if you keep me alive, I will never serve you. I am Lucent. I am of the light.

  I didn’t bother to use my last breaths to speak the words out loud. I knew Ciardha could hear my thoughts.

  “Hope. You hope that the witch comes for you. Why would you ho
ld onto such a hope when she has proven to you time and again that she does not feel the same way for you as you feel for her?”

  I am Lucent. I am of the light.

  “She chose him over you. Oh, she has given you excuses. ‘It’s what you would have done, Jake.’ You know she lies. You know she wanted him more than she ever wanted you.”

  I love Emily, and she loves me. I am of the light.

  “And where is your fair maiden now? Did she come for you? Did she even try?”

  I am of the light.

  “I will answer that for you. No. While you were toiling in my kitchens, eating garbage and being caned by Corina the hag, your fair maiden was out there, enjoying tasty food and the company of the large, dark man. Oh, she enjoys his company very much.”

  Tristan? She wants … Tristan?

  No. I am of the light.

  “Yes, yes. An amazing spectacle of a human, I must say. Strong. Handsome. Why his arms are so large, he could encircle her waist twice around. She fits him nicely.”

  I thought he was my friend. I thought she would at least try to save me.

  Ciardha bent his head down to inches away from me.

  “While you lay broken in a heap, fighting to stay alive, she was out there with him. She did not come for you.”

  He’s right. It’s been months. And she hasn’t come for me. No one has come for me. They didn’t even try.

  “Serve me and you will have your revenge. Serve me, and together we will hurt her. Hurt her like she has hurt you.”

  Emily, why? I thought … I thought you loved me.

  “You will never know pain or want again. You and your whole family if you would like. You can bring them here. They will eat the best food. They will have every need met. Your mother will never have to work again. And you, Jake Stevens, will be in my inner circle. That is it. Let it go.”

  No more pain. I’ll never feel this shitty feeling ever again?

  “You will be free, Mr. Stevens. Free at last.”

  I want to be free.

  “Say good-bye to life as you know it, Mr. Stevens. Say good-bye to that which you cling to. Welcome me in. Open your door.”

  Open my door. Let it go. Free. I want to be free.

  Good-bye, Emily.

  29. Remember

  Emily

  “Time for what?” I asked.

  “Time Miss Emily join with her tribe. Time Miss Emily set things right.”

  “But I still don’t know what to do once I get there.”

  “Let go, Miss Emily. Akasha knows.”

  Akasha knows. Great! Good for Akasha. Lot of good that will do me. I’m the one who’s supposed to know.

  I felt a hard smack to the back of my head.

  “Ouch!”

  “Miss Emily one with Akasha. If Akasha know, then Miss Emily know.”

  “Okay, okay, I get it. No need to hit me.”

  “Get it? What Miss Emily get?”

  “That if I let go of me … of myself …”

  “Yes?”

  “And if I allow myself to be one with Akasha …”

  “Go on.”

  “The answers will come to me. It’s like I don’t need to have the answers because if I allow myself to be one with Akasha, I’ll be shown the way.”

  “All answers are given when you allow the light.”

  “Yes, I get that.”

  “Good. Miss Emily go back to her time and place.”

  Without warning I was wracked with pain. It wasn’t a simple slap to the head or a rap across my thighs. It felt like I’d been run through with a sword. My hand instinctively went to my side, expecting to feel a gash with blood pouring out.

  But there was no wound. I felt no blood. There was only the searing pain like a red-hot poker in my gut.

  “Madame Wong, stop! You’re hurting me … too much.”

  The pain gripped me, and I fell to the ground.

  “Madame Wong not cause this.”

  The pain began to wind its way from my belly and out through my legs and arms. It was a searing pain like a thousand burning needles coursing through my veins.

  I’d felt that pain before.

  “Ciardha!”

  “The shadow one not here,” Madame Wong said.

  Maybe it was because I’d just come from my experience with the divine presence of Akasha. Or maybe it was because I had a connection to Jake that went beyond our friendship or our feelings for each other. Whatever it was, it caused me to know that I was losing Jake.

  “Jake!” I called to the aether.

  “Jake Stevens not in Netherworld,” Madame Wong said.

  “I know,” I rasped. “He’s on Earth. And he’s in trouble. We’re losing him, Madame Wong. Jake is almost turned.”

  “Most likely.”

  “We have to do something about it now. If Jake is turned …”

  “He will be lost. But Miss Emily still of the light.”

  “But I won’t be. If I lose Jake, a part of me will be lost. I have to go to him. Now!”

  It was more and more difficult to even speak. The burning pain of the Dark Energy voltage running through me made my body thrash on the spongy, insubstantial strata of the Netherworld. I probably looked like a person being tasered.

  “Madame Wong,” I croaked. “Please. Please help me. I have to leave here and be with Jake right now.”

  “You know way. Go.”

  “I … I don’t know.”

  “Miss Emily know way. Did this before when last in Netherworld. One minute here. Next there. Only have to think it and whole being follow thought.”

  “I … I’m in too much pain to concentrate. If I have to carry my body with me, I won’t make it in time. It’s so heavy.”

  “Yes, yes, that true. That why Madame Wong shed her sack of water. Soul travel much easier when one is not tired.”

  “Tell me. Tell me how I can leave my body here and go to Jake.”

  “Translocate, of course.”

  Of course. Why didn’t I think of it? Just translocate.

  I didn’t think of it because she’d never taught me about it. But I kept my sarcasm to myself, sealed inside my head. I didn’t have the strength left even for sarcasm.

  “Easier than carrying your bag of bones with you,” Madame Wong said. “Intention all that you require.”

  “All I have to do is think myself there? That doesn’t seem like enough.”

  “Think not enough. Focus. Focus intention. Project your Anam to specific time and place. Anam go. Body stay.”

  “I’ll separate from my body?”

  “Yes.”

  “But won’t my body die? I mean if my spirit leaves it, isn’t that the same as dying?”

  “Do you intend to die?”

  “Well, no, I don’t intend it. I’m just worried that I will.”

  “Remember Akashic Field. Threads connect Anam and body. So long as Anam alive, Miss Emily body alive. But if thread broken, body live no more.”

  A broken thread? How could the thread of the Akashic Field get cut? And how would I reunite with my body when I was ready for it? My body may just be a big bag of organic chemistry, but I was pretty fond of it.

  “Do not allow fear, Miss Emily. Your Jake … he is almost lost. Go to him. Be there now. Let go. Let Akasha fill you.”

  “I’m focusing. Allow Akasha.” I breathed in and used my imagination to recall how it felt only minutes before when I was floating in the Akashic Field. “I’m allowing.”

  “Good, good. Be one with Akasha.”

  “I am one with Akasha.” I felt myself breathing in white light, reeling Lucent Energy into myself along the threads connecting me to the Akashic Field. The pain began to recede. “I am Akasha.”

  “Yes. Allow it. Be it.”

  “I am Akasha.”

  “Be light.”

  I was light. I could feel myself lift as if floating on a cloud. I felt no more pain. I felt no fear. I was filled only with love and peace. I was love.
<
br />   I had no need to make a plan. Akasha knew what to do.

  “Remember,” I whispered.

  30. I Remember

  Jake

  The searing heat began to change. The pain was replaced with something else.

  Numbness.

  Where I’d once felt broken, I began to feel nothing.

  It was like I’d been anesthetized, but I was still awake. I couldn’t feel my toes or fingers. My arms and legs were insensate. And the dull ache in my heart began to go away too, replaced with a new feeling. Or I should say lack of feeling.

  My worries slipped away. My fear diminished.

  But I felt my mind reach for something that was just out of my grasp. I searched for a memory. I tried to put my finger on something I’d forgotten. Something was there. Something important.

  “Let it go, Jake,” Berrach said. She sounded, for a minute, like the old Fanny. And I wanted to do what she said. I wanted to let go and feel good and whole again, like I had when I’d sat down to eat at Ciardha’s table. But something nagged at my mind. There was something I had to do first. There was something important that I had to remember.

  “Open the door, Mr. Stevens. Open the door, and you will never have to worry again.”

  I tried to let go. I really did. But it wasn’t like me to let go of an important detail. I lived to know the answer when no one else did. And there was something that I was supposed to know. If only I could put my finger on it.

  I felt Dorcha’s fingers caress my face. I don’t remember how it got there, but my head was in her lap, and her long, cool fingers ran the length of my jaw and outlined my lips.

  I closed my eyes. A part of me concentrated on opening the door that Ciardha kept talking about. But another part tried to figure out what it was that I was supposed to remember.

  What is it? What am I forgetting?

 

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