Bitter Fruits

by Daltry, Sarah

  I think he’s going to whisper his address in my ear, like a dirty secret, but instead he begins to nibble on the lobe and his hands maneuver up under my dress. I want answers, but I want his touch more. I’m ashamed of how fast my body shuts off my mind, but I can’t deny that this is where I had hoped the night would go. I fall back onto the blanket, the croissant forgotten by my side as he moves on top of me and his lips slide along my neck. His fingers tickle my thigh and I yearn for him to finish where he left off last night; I twist, hoping to brush against his fingers. He manages to stay away, though, so I wrap my legs around him, wanting more. The hem of my dress is around my waist and there is only a thin pair of lace panties between his fingers and what I want most. I feel him tense, but I refuse to let go. His shirt comes off and I kiss his chest, feeling him fighting against his own desire. My nails dig into his ass as he strains over me and I lift myself to meet him. His lips bear down on my neck and the bite this time is intense, hot pain searing through me but the pleasure it brings is too sweet to fight. I plead for him to enter me. I can feel how hard he is against my leg and his fingers are bruising my thigh; I know he wants to slip them inside me as badly as I want them to slide into my warmth.

  He pulls my dress off; his kisses and bites move along my chest, across the swells of my breasts, and down my stomach. I manage to get my bra off while he is at work; as my breasts are released, he takes one in his mouth, the sharpness of his fangs teasing my nipple and making me desperate. His fingers caress me along the seam of my panties and I arch closer to him, giving him invitation to finish his teasing.

  “I want to feel you inside of me. I want to know you in every way,” I tell him.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he says. “But it is getting harder and harder to resist.”

  “It certainly does seem to be getting harder and harder,” I tease, and I finally release him from his pants. I run my hand along the shaft and, although I cannot see it because he is still biting and kissing me, I can feel it pulsing in my grasp. The tip is slightly wet. I begin to stroke him and he moans, his fingers slipping as he gives in to my touch, brushing against my wetness and almost giving me what I want. I can’t take much more of this.

  “Let me taste you,” I plead. I wiggle out from under him, despite my own craving to have him enter me, feeling confident that I can break his will. I am free and I lean down to take him into my mouth, but he pushes away and I am left alone on the blanket, naked except for my panties, and soaking wet. He looks at me, mortified when he sees that we have taken it to this point. I can see what he’s been hiding as his cock pokes out from his pants, and I don’t want it hidden any longer. I reach for him, but he quickly fixes himself and shakes his head.

  “No,” he says. “Why do you keep forcing me to take this where it cannot go? This is not what you want. I’m no good for you.”

  “It is what I want,” I pout, but I feel embarrassed and vulnerable, sitting here naked under his gaze. “Don’t you find me attractive?”

  He sits in front of me and brings me to his chest. Our flesh is hot and sticky where it touches and I can’t stop the ache between my legs. His breathing is ragged and he tightens his grip on the back of my head as he tries to slow it. I am hurt or angry or frustrated, but I don’t know which. He runs his hands along my entire body and I push against him, needing him and not knowing how to accept his denial.

  “I want you, Nora. I have wanted you since I saw you. You are gorgeous. However, there are secrets that… Please understand, the steps that you want to take will reveal things. This cannot end well - for either of us. I don’t want to make you suffer, but I am fated to suffer. Don’t make me bring you with me into the darkness. I can’t bear to lose you.”

  I sense the pain that grips him. The darkness that he speaks of sounds frightening, but I don’t feel fear when I face him and meet his eyes. “I will follow you anywhere. Dark or light. Stop trying to make my choices for me.”

  Our lips meet again, but it is with doubt. Neither of us knows what will happen if we are to move forward, but I want to have a chance to find out. My body is still crying out for him, but now my mind is calm. I want him, but I want him when he knows that I’m ready for whatever that means. His hands touch me and his caresses are soft. We both slow our breathing and I try to let my will match his. When he pulls away, he gathers the picnic and looks at me with longing and a hunger I do not recognize. It’s not sexual, but desperate. Almost as a dying man looks in the last moments of his life.

  “In three days,” he says. “I will meet you again at the church where we first met. In the meantime, I want you to look something up - and if you do not appear at the church, I’ll know that what you found changed everything.”

  “Okay,” I say warily. I’ll do anything he asks, but his fear scares me. What kind of secrets can he possibly hold? Little right now could stop me from going to him in three days.

  “Find the name Charles Samuels. He was an Oxford student in the 1960’s. And then, we shall see how much of the darkness you are willing to face.”

  “I’ll look him up, but Alec, I’m going to be at the church in three days,” I say.

  “For your sake, Nora, I hope that you’re not.”

  I stand and dress, his eyes never leaving my body, and I’m satisfied that he at least looks rueful that we didn’t take it further tonight. He smiles at me - a painful smile - and I go to him, letting him hold me against him again. I don’t know what Charles Samuels has to do with us, but in Alec’s arms, I can’t imagine a world where it would matter. “Three days,” I promise. He kisses me quickly and, of course, disappears almost immediately. I am getting really sick of that.

  4.

  Of course, the first thing I do as soon as classes are over the next afternoon is go to the library. Sure, I could just look it up on my laptop in my room, but as an English and art history major, all I know how to do when confused and in need of answers is to head to the library. I make my way to the study annex and settle in, prepping my iPod. This requires music. My laptop readies and I tap my fingers on the hard tabletop. Why is it that whenever I want the computer to start quickly it needs to add fifty updates? Finally, I get online and I type in the name Charles Samuels. There are some vague references, but certainly nothing that warrants Alec’s hot and cold behavior. I’m on page eight of Google when something catches my attention. It’s an article about a murder at Oxford; a college senior was found guilty of killing his brother, Allen, but disappeared before the sentencing. One night, he simply vanished from the prison where he was held. Even weirder is the fact that the body of his dead brother disappeared around the same time, dug from its grave. I’m not sure what this has to do with me until I click on a related link and see an old scanned photo from the original article. Even with the age, it’s evident that the guy in the picture is the same guy I met at the party - Caleb, I think he said his name was. The photo is from the day that Samuels heard the verdict; he is grinning. That grin, although not covered by a silver mask, reaches out from the screen and tugs on my heart. How is this possible? There must be a logical explanation.

  I read further and find that there was a lot of controversy about the case because many believed that Samuels was not fit to stand trial; he, however, refused to claim insanity. In his statements in court, though, one could argue that he was definitely not of sound mind. I read the article and stop at one of the comments from Samuels’ testimony.

  It was Allen’s fate to die, as it was my destiny to kill him. No one fights the darkness. My brother and I have always known this was our path, as it has always been and will never cease to be.

  The policemen who brought him in said that the crime scene was not cleared; Charles had merely left the knife beside his brother’s mutilated body and had written the same word in his brother’s blood in each room of the house they’d shared. “Lilith.” When they arrested him, it was also the only word he would speak. People assumed drugs were involved and, when
Charles disappeared, the case was big news for a while. Then, something else must have happened and people forgot. Allen’s body was never recovered and Charles was never found, but it appears that eventually people stopped looking. I suppose human beings only have so much to give before something even more shocking garners their attention. My mind goes to the Samuels brothers’ family, although there is no mention of them in any of the articles.

  Despite the weirdness of the entire story and the obvious creepiness about Charles and Caleb looking exactly the same, I’m still not sure why Alec feels a murder over half a century ago has anything to do with our relationship. I print the articles and decide to do a quick search on Lilith, but nothing comes up that seems relevant. A lot about Jewish mythology and Biblical lore, but it doesn’t make sense if linked with a fratricide in the UK. I realize it’s getting late, so I grab my copies from the printer and head back to the dorm. Maybe I can ask Henry tomorrow.

  My chance comes sooner than expected because Scarlet is on the phone with him when I get back.

  “Hey, ask him if he knows anything about a mythological person named Lilith,” I say.

  Scarlet rolls her eyes at me, clearly having better things to discuss with her boyfriend, but she asks him nonetheless. His answer must be long and complicated because she just hands me the phone. I only catch the end of his explanation.

  “-but no one knows for sure.”

  “It’s Nora. Scarlet handed me the phone. I only caught the end of that. And it doesn’t sound helpful.”

  “You know Lilith was in the review materials for my class, right?”

  “In Genesis?”

  “Well, no, but I didn’t expect you to follow directions and only read for the next class.”

  “Busy. You know, impossible love interest, masquerade balls, ethical dilemmas involving my mythology professor.”

  “Nice. Anyway, there are several theories, but why do you want to know?”

  “Honestly? I have no idea. Alec gave me some vague name and I am supposed to research it. It led me to a word, ‘Lilith.’ Somehow, this is all connected to a sinister darkness that Alec believes he is saving me from. Or something.”

  “Lilith is a complex myth. How much time do you have?” Henry asks.

  I look across the room at Scarlet, who is tapping her foot against the bed frame. I’m guessing she doesn’t care about folklore and wants her phone back. I know Henry and I, on the other hand, could discuss ancient mythology all night. I sigh into the phone. “I feel like this is going to be involved. I don’t want to take up your entire night. Maybe you can look over the papers I printed in person? I’m sure there is a link if Alec thought it was this important.”

  “Sure, stay after class tomorrow. Bring the info you have and I’ll see what I can dig up as well.” He sounds actually excited about this and I smile. Mythology professors - a critical tool when dealing with insanity.

  “Yeah, okay. Here’s your girlfriend.” I toss the phone back to Scarlet and try to ignore the dirty talk that commences.

  ****

  Following Henry’s lecture the next day is a challenge; he is far better versed in the Bible than I am and the review books were not nearly helpful enough. He talks about Cain and Abel and the theories about the murder, as well as the archetypal structure of the story. I get the basics - duality, jealousy, punishment, and revenge. Otherwise, I am lost, but when he says the name Lilith, I try to make sense of what he is saying. According to Henry, there are myths that show Cain leaving Adam and Eve and, after his punishment from God, his coming across Lilith. Biblical scholars debate about whether or not Lilith was a legitimate force in the canon, but many agree that there is enough evidence in the Apocrypha to defend the belief that Lilith was Adam’s wife before Eve. Huh. That’s the first I have ever heard of Adam being with anyone but Eve. I always thought that they were the only ones in Eden. Henry says we will be discussing Lilith at length in the coming weeks, but that for now, it’s important to know that theories suggest Cain went to her for refuge after God’s mark was placed on him. Some even hint that she was Cain’s mother, not Eve. From there, the stories go in radically different directions. This is one of the many reasons that I love my major. I adore the way that each story has so many versions and they are all right to someone. By the end of the lecture, I am looking forward to studying the subject in more depth.

  After class, I stay around to talk to Henry and pull out the copies of what I found online. He places them on the desk in front of him and he begins to mumble to himself.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “There is a myth that has been discussed only in the most obscure circles. It questions everything from the popular versions, but there is little evidence that it has any merit. Do you mind if I read some of this and pass it by a friend of mine before commenting more?”

  “Sure. But what does this have to do with Alec? I’m supposed to meet him tomorrow night, but he feels like these papers may change everything. How? Why would I care about a murder that happened before even my parents were born?”

  “I don’t know but the fact that he’s worried about this concerns me. There is nothing that strikes you as odd? Even the smallest detail-”

  “Well, I mean, the guy, Charles, he looks just like this guy Caleb that Alec was talking to at the party. I think they’re brothers, but it would be impossible for them to be the same guy. Maybe Charles was their uncle or something.”

  “Wait - he looks like this man here?” Henry points to the mug shot of Charles Samuels and I nod. He grabs my arm and his fingers dig into my flesh. “Nora, stay away. If this is what I think it is, you are in grave danger. These men, they are-”

  “Why?” I demand, pulling my arm free. “Because a crazy guy killed his brother fifty years ago and looks like another guy I saw at a party for five seconds? Henry, I appreciate the help, but I think you’re letting your stories go to your head.”

  “Nora, please. For your own sake, stay away. I’ll have information for you in a few days. At least wait until I can confirm...”

  “Fine,” I say and take my things. I have no intention of waiting a few days, because Alec said if I didn’t show at the church, he would assume I was no longer interested. And I am interested, even given his weirdness and Henry’s overreaction. Henry is the one who told me that some people let the stories go to their heads and Alec has shown no sign of being dangerous. If anything, he has been too safe, avoiding anything that could get either of us in trouble. Despite the number of fantasy novels I have read and the movies I’ve watched, I’m not a flake; I don’t believe in monsters. Henry should know better than to warn me about a story in a newspaper; my major aside, facts and reason still trump myth. Even if Alec is related to a murderer, I can’t blame him for the sins of his family.

  It’s grown cold when I get back outside and I am surprised at how quickly fall seems to have faded away. It is another one of those years when the leaves are gone before I even noticed them falling; it depresses me, but I try to ignore it. I head to the cafeteria to get coffee before going to the library to work on my research for Henry’s class. Personal nonsense aside, I do enjoy his course and I want to keep up. This Cain and Lilith story, especially the various theories, is intriguing and I can’t wait to learn more. I’m almost at the library when I hear someone call my name.

  I turn toward the sound but don’t see anyone at first. A few second later, a figure emerges from behind one of the now bare trees. He is as stunning as he was at the party; the mask actually seems to have hurt his looks, because now, without it, I can’t help but stare. The deep blue of his eyes promises to drive me into chaos and yet I meet his gaze. I find him fascinating. I try to shake his grasp, but it doesn’t work; I walk toward him as if my body is not my own. He takes my arm and pulls me close to him, breathing me in, and although a voice is crying out Alec’s name in my head, I ignore it. The turbulent oceans of his eyes threaten everything and still I don’t veer off course.

&nbs
p; “You remember me?” He teases.

  “Caleb,” I choke out, feeling his hands moving along my back and willing them to move lower. I want to stop, but something is preventing me from walking, or what should be running, away.

  “My brother is taken by you, you know. You seem less ... shall we say, committed?”

  “I … he is …” The problem is that I can’t speak. I know this is wrong but Alec and I have not made any promises and Caleb is sublime. His dark hair falls into his eyes and I reach up to brush it away as I wanted to do at the party, my hand burning as it comes in contact with his skin. I lean my head back and do not fight when his mouth moves close to mine. His lips brush only the corner of my mouth. He whispers so low that I’m not sure I hear him.

  “There is no way you are strong enough. He is a fool.”

  Reality kicks me and I tear myself from his embrace. “What?”

  “You might think he matters to you, but when faced with death, you are all weak.” Darkness covers his face and I am suddenly scared. Caleb is not his brother; he may be sexy and I may be attracted to him, but he is definitely a threat and I try to sink back down to earth. If Henry wanted to warn me away from anyone, Caleb is the one to fear.

  “I’m not weak. I have weak moments, as we all do, but I care for him.”

  “He told you about Samuels?” He asks.

  “He did. And it changes nothing.” The look on his face is exactly what I hope for and I am proud of my defiance.

  “You don’t know what you are getting into, sweetheart, but Alec is not the only one who will die if you pursue this. Don’t say I did not warn you.”

  Like his brother, he is gone before I have a chance to respond. I look to the sky and see the darkening night blanket the day. Less than twenty-four hours to see Alec and, despite the endless warnings, I will be at the church. I walk back to my dorm, the cold afternoon taunting me as I try to forget the feel of Caleb’s mouth against mine.