by Cyndi Tefft
Roaring an oath, I took out my anger on Celeste until she became still, her eyes glassy and unseeing. Panting, I straightened and took deep breaths until the red haze cleared and my vision was restored. I glanced at Celeste’s body, so beautiful and broken, and as always, remorse pressed down on me until I could hardly breathe. I had a mad urge to cradle her in my arms and weep over her mindless suffering.
Maybe I do love her. Maybe I am more than just a monster.
I resumed my human form and dropped to the ground, stricken with grief. The never-ending war raged within me until I felt torn in two.
Eagan. Now! my mother called again.
With a mental snap of my fingers, I dispelled the illusion and cleared Celeste’s memory of me, releasing her like a fish in the sea to be caught again another day. The shimmer that signified a change of setting passed over me, as familiar to me as drawing breath.
My mother had beckoned me to a palatial suite on the top floor of a New York City skyscraper. The opulent grandeur of the rooms was not the only reason she preferred this setting. She envisioned others beneath her, as though she were the queen on a throne and everyone else merely peasants groveling at her feet. My pain and self-loathing coalesced into hatred toward the woman who gave me life.
“What is so important that you dare to interrupt me in the middle of a hunt?”
Reclining on a chaise lounge, the arresting woman whose raven hair matched my own tossed me a derisive glance. “You hunt constantly. I thought your hormones would settle down once you passed out of your teenage years.” She resumed her survey of the city skyline, facing the bank of windows at the front of the suite.
“What’s the matter? Jealous?”
Her head whipped around and she narrowed suspicious eyes at me. “What exactly are you insinuating?”
My mind flickered back to my first hunt, the day I learned the pleasures of a woman’s body. The empty, shattered eyes that regarded me then were glaring at me now from across the room. She was no more immune to my charms than the others who followed. And like them, she doesn’t remember.
I do.
“Nothing,” I muttered and walked to the expansive bar to pour myself a drink. Rich caramel tones of the world’s finest scotch floated up from my glass, but I didn’t sip it to savor the flavor as I normally would. Instead, I pounded it back in one gulp. The firewater burned my throat, providing a momentary distraction from the memories I’d just as soon forget. “What did you want?”
Her long, red dress swished around her ankles as she crossed the room toward me. “It’s your father.”
At first, I thought she was referring to the heaven transporter whose seed she stole. I’d never met him and had no desire to. He was nothing more than a pawn in a game far beyond his understanding. Then I recognized the tremor of fear in her words and realized she meant my other father—the Master, the King. My pulse spiked.
“What does he want? What did he say?” Panic and longing twisted inside me at the idea of an audience with the Master. It had been so long.
“He is coming to see you. You should prepare yourself.”
Her words forced a bark of nervous laughter from my throat. “Prepare myself? And how do you propose I do that?” I strode over to the floor-to-ceiling aquarium on the west wall, which was swimming with petite sharks, eels, and stingrays. The gentle movement of the creatures through the water normally calmed my spirit, but at that moment, I felt as though they were free and I was the one trapped in the tank. My hand rubbed up and down my throat, trying to dispel the sense of suffocation that had come over me.
“Don’t be afraid, lamb. You were born for this. It is your destiny,” she said, coming up behind me.
I whirled on her, my eyes heating with a flash to their blood red state. “Who said I was afraid? Did you tell him I was afraid?” The idea that she had exposed some weakness of mine to the Master filled me with uncontrollable rage. Gripping her shoulders, I shook her until her neck was about to snap.
“No! Of course not!” she sputtered.
I squeezed harder, eliciting a whimper from her lips. I read her memories and could see she was concealing nothing. She knew no more than she’d told me. She was useless. Satisfied, I shoved her away and she stumbled to the floor. A seed of regret at my mistreatment of her tried to surface within me, but I squashed it.
I am not afraid. Let the Master come to me. I am ready.
The shimmer of change passed over me and my mother disappeared. I turned, filled with anticipation, expecting to see the glorious face of my father, but found myself alone. Disappointment landed with a thud in my gut. Blowing out a pent up breath, I moved to pour myself another drink and pondered what it could mean. The decanter rattled against the glass, raking my nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. I cursed my inability to hide how shaken the meeting with my mother had left me.
“Careful, you don’t want to spill on this carpet. I just had it installed.” The smooth, deep voice came from behind me. An unguarded note of surprise slipped past my lips before I could stifle it, instantly filling me with shame. Worse still, my hand was unsteady as I turned and the liquor sloshed onto the beige carpet, leaving a damning stain as though I’d wet myself in his presence. I felt like a child. As I set down the glass, his velvet laughter poured over me, sounding warm and comforting, but leaving me feeling naked and exposed.
I dropped to my knees and bowed my head. “Master,” I breathed in reverence. He didn’t move from his place near the wall of sharks, but I felt my body compelled to stand as though I were nothing more than a puppet. When my eyes met his, I saw his outstretched hand. He had lifted me from my position of subservience without touching me—never touching me—aware of my ability to draw memories upon contact. I longed to run into his arms, to feel him hold me, to draw comfort from him. My fantasy was no more realistic than Celeste’s vision of domestic bliss.
As though he could read my thoughts, he smiled. His face was so unutterably beautiful, it hurt to look upon it, but I could not tear my gaze away. My entire being ached to do his will.
“My son,” he began. Emotion welled in me at the endearment and tears pricked the back of my eyes. I hastened to pull myself together, knowing he abhorred any sign of weakness.
“Yes, Father.” It wasn’t a question. I wasn’t asking what he wanted, but agreeing before he’d even made the demand.
“The time for playing games has passed. You are a man now and ready to fulfill the purpose I have set out for you.”
Unease bit at me, but I pushed it aside. If the Master wills it, so shall it be.
“The…Other…” He swallowed and twisted his head to one side as if the very mention of his counterpart left a bitter taste in his mouth. I’d never heard him refer to the Lord, but my mother had mentioned the name he sometimes used. I dared not breathe, afraid he might take the slightest movement as an indication that I recognized the authority of the creator of heaven. “He is far too generous in offering second chances to those who come into this realm. Until now, we have turned a blind eye to his practice of sending back to Earth those whose time has not yet come.”
I nodded as though I understood his intentions, even though I did not.
“There have even been those who would have joined our ranks but for the sentimental pardon they received to try again. And more often than not, upon their return to Earth, they decide to turn from their wicked ways,” the corner of his mouth curled in a sneer, “and receive eternal forgiveness of their sins. Well, no more.” His smile became brighter than before, commanding in its intent. “The time has come for you to retrieve those who have already had their chance and to block the exit so that none who come into the Between Realm may leave.”
An unexpected sense of injustice rose within me and the words were out of my mouth before I realized how they might sound. “You want me to end the lives of people on Earth who’ve been given a second chance by the…” My brain caught up with my tongue just in time, keeping me from referr
ing to the Lord in my Master’s presence.
His resplendent features darkened and suddenly, my airflow was cut off. My hands flew to my throat as I struggled to draw breath.
“Have you sworn allegiance to the Other? Do you dare to disobey my command?” His human form melted away as I watched, gripped by terror. His grotesque body rose to towering proportions, higher and higher, like flames swirling around the trunk of a redwood tree. I shook my head vehemently, my lungs burning with unspent breath.
I would never betray you, I swear! I pleaded with him in my mind.
Never? He countered, his voice like shards of glass in my ears. His presence overpowered me, drenching me in darkness until the glowing ember of good that lay within my soul was all but extinguished.
Never! I am your servant. I love you!
All at once, the vice around my throat released its hold. Flopping on the ground like a fish out of water, I sucked in huge gulps of air, tears streaming over my face. I turned eyes filled with confusion and fear to my Master, only to find him human once again. His face shone with unearthly beauty.
“They all do, precious,” he said. My own words slapped me in the face. His sinister laughter ricocheted in my skull.
“We are more alike than you know,” he said. “As I have a holy thorn in my side, so do you. The Other once tricked me...” He shook his head in remembrance as though spiritual warfare were nothing more than child sport. “‘Consider my servant Job’,” he said in a mocking sing-song voice. “But I won’t be made a fool of again.” His gaze snapped to mine. My knees nearly buckled under the intensity of his stare. “The transporter who begat you loves a human woman whose soul has touched this realm. You’ll destroy his precious faith by turning her heart against him. She will choose you, my son, and when she does...” A horrifying smile crept across his face like an oil slick streaming over a beautiful lake. “When she does, all transporters past and present will belong to me.”
I dared not ask what would happen if I failed. I could not fail. Whatever the Master wills, I reminded myself.
“Yes, Father. As you wish.”
Chapter 4
LINDSEY
I glared at my breakfast plate as though it had somehow wronged me, like it was responsible for making me get up only a handful of hours after I’d finally fallen asleep or had somehow played a part in what I’d walked in on last night. The wrinkled skin on the steamed tomato made me want to hurl and something they called ‘black pudding’ was definitely not making it onto my fork.
Moira and Janette sat on either side of their mother at the enormous dining table. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Still, no one would guess that they’d been out all night partying with me. Their faces glowed like they’d gotten a full night’s sleep and had maybe even gone for an early morning jog. How was that fair? Here I felt like I’d been hit by a truck and there they were, laughing with their mom and making me feel like I was a thousand years old. Nice.
Picking at my eggs, I transferred my glower from the food to the twins. Anything to avoid looking at Aiden, who sat quietly next to me. We’d shared the same bed last night, but I’d scooted to the far edge, not wanting to touch him or the place the hell transporter had been. My body had finally started to relax when I heard him snore and that just pissed me off all over again. He could sleep? He knew I was lying there replaying that horrific scene in my head, but he could sleep anyway? I wanted to smother him with my pillow.
Joanne, the twins’ mom, sat across from me, looking like a slightly older but still beautiful version of her daughters. Her dark hair was cut to frame her heart-shaped face, which was normally smiling and happy, but right now was frowning at me with concern.
“Lindsey, aren’t you hungry?” Joanne asked and instantly, I felt like a worm for sitting there, hating on everyone and everything.
I straightened in my chair and gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’m just not feeling too hot today.”
“What did you girls do to her last night?” Joanne turned on her daughters, who wore identical masks of innocence.
“Nothing!” they chimed in unison.
I shook my head. “No, we had fun,” I assured Joanne, then stuffed a bunch of scrambled eggs in my mouth before I could say anything stupid. From across the table, my mother’s stare burned into the side of my face, but I refused to make eye contact.
“Lindsey, I thought you and I could go Christmas shopping today to pick up a few last minute things,” Mom said.
Quickly swallowing my mouthful, I replied, “Will anything be open on Christmas Eve?” Joanne assured us that stores would be open. And so it was settled. Shopping with Mom all day. Yay. At least it gave me an excuse to get some space from Aiden for a while.
Almost as soon as we got started along the narrow, winding road to Inverness, Mom turned on me. “What’s with you? You’ve been snarly and growling all morning. And don’t give me any crap about not feeling well. I know what you’re like when you’re sick and it’s not this.”
I sighed, knowing there was no way I could bluff my way out of it. “Aiden and I had a fight.”
“Oh.” She didn’t say anything more and I certainly wasn’t offering up details. I watched the trees whiz past the window, getting lost in the blur that matched the turmoil inside me. It wasn’t his fault, I kept telling myself. I knew that, but it still hurt. I wanted to just forget about it, to focus on Christmas and my honeymoon, being in Scotland, being here with Aiden…
A tear ran down my cheek and I swiped at it with the back of my hand.
“What happened?” Mom’s voice was quiet, but felt intrusive anyway.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, you don’t have to talk to me about it, but you should talk to him.”
I gaped at her. “Wait, you’re giving me marital advice? That’s rich.” This coming from a woman who’d had an affair and destroyed my family. I wouldn’t say she was in any position to be telling me how it’s done.
“Don’t be nasty,” she scolded in that motherly tone designed to make me feel guilty. “I’m sorry you and Aiden are having troubles, but don’t take it out on me. It’s not my fault you two had a fight.”
She was right. That only made it worse. “Sorry,” I mumbled. Wanting to change the subject, I asked, “What Christmas presents do you need to buy?”
“I didn’t know if you’d gotten anything for Aiden…” Her voice trailed off in a question.
“Yeah, I found a book on the family history of the MacRaes at the Eilean Donan Castle gift shop before the wedding.”
She smiled brightly. “That’s great. He’ll like that.”
She paused and I pressed into it, feeling like there was something she wasn’t telling me. “What about you? You can’t be buying gifts for me or else you wouldn’t have brought me. Who did you forget?”
She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder like she does when she’s nervous. “I hadn’t thought to get anything for our hosts, Mark and Joanne, and since they’ve been so nice to let us stay in their home, I thought it was the least we could do.”
Okayyyy, she was stalling. “And?”
She took her eyes from the road for a split second to glance over at me. Was that fear? A blush? What the heck?
“I thought I’d get a little something for… your father.” Her voice tripped over the words.
I didn’t try to hide my shock. “What? Really? Why?”
“Well, it IS Christmas!” she snapped in defense.
I held up my hands. “Okay, okay. Sorry.” After a bit, I tried again. “So what did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know, something simple, I guess. He’s been giving me little gifts each day that we’ve been here, so I—”
“He has?” My dad, the romantic? Shut the front door. “Like what?”
A girly grin flickered across her face before she tossed her hair again. “Well, the first day, he gave me a bar of soap.” At my puzzled expression, she we
nt on. “I have this favorite kind of soap—”
“Dove, citrus scented,” I supplied and she nodded.
“Right. Anyway, he thought I might forget to pack it, so he brought some for me. That’s all, no biggie.”
“And did you? Forget to pack some?” I couldn’t help needling her. She nodded, eyes on the road. “And what else? You said he’d been bringing you gifts each day.”
This time, she turned and gave me a real smile, the kind that only my mom can do, a smile that makes you feel like the sun is shining on you. A little flutter of hope for my parents came to life in my chest.
“He gave me a journal and a purple pen to write about all the places we’ve gone, he remembered extra batteries and a memory card for my camera, he bought me some of this candy-type fudge called Scotch tablet at this little ice cream shop where we stopped…” She waved her hand. “Things like that.”
“Wow. That’s…” I couldn’t even think of the words. Go, Dad!
“I know. It’s just like him, really,” she said and then purposefully cut off further conversation by turning on the radio.
After a while, a song came on that we both loved. We sang along with the radio and danced in our seats like we’d done so many times while I’d been growing up. Mom’s laughter lifted my spirits so the dark cloud that had been smothering me finally lifted. With her blue eyes sparkling, Mom looked younger than I’d seen her in years.
When we got to the mall, I picked up a couple of trinkets for Moira and Janette while Mom searched high and low for just the right thing for Dad, something to say thank you without being too personal.
“You know he’s going to love whatever you get him,” I said. My stomach growled loud enough for her to hear. “I’m starving. Can we go get lunch now? Please?”
“Yes, fine. I’ll just…” Having come to some decision, she grabbed her gift off the shelf, paid the cashier and we left to hit the pub.
The place was deserted, the only noise coming from a television on the wall broadcasting a soccer—no, ‘football’ they call it in Scotland—game. Having not eaten much breakfast, I pounced on the fish and chips when they came, searing my mouth with the molten oil from the fish. I swallowed a curse since my mother was across the table, but took a quick drink of soda to cut the pain.