by I. T. Lucas
That seemed to mollify Leonora, who was holding her hand over her heart as if she was experiencing chest pains. The old woman crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “That must be it. My cards don’t lie.”
Syssi glanced at the others, expecting them to snicker at Leonora’s proclamation, but found the two nodding solemnly. She loved them, but they were all loony.
“Are you sure no handsome boy made your heart flutter?” Clara asked, flapping her old hands up and down.
Did a dream flutter count?
Whatever, she could make them happy with that one. If the old bats believed in tarots, chances were that they also believed in dreams. She would just skip the parts that were not so innocent.
“I kind of met a handsome guy, but he wasn’t real. I dreamt of him.”
Hattie snickered. “What kind of a dream?”
For once the blush that crept up Syssi’s cheeks didn’t embarrass her. Not only were two of the women vision-impaired, but she didn’t mind even if they could’ve seen it. During their long lives the three had experienced more than she could ever dream of or imagine. Her naughty dream would have amused them. Not that she was going to give up any details.
“I don’t remember much,” she lied. “It was a nightmare, and I was running away from a pack of wolves. The guy who helped me chase them off was very handsome.”
The three smiled knowingly.
Syssi stifled a relieved sigh. Now that she’d given them something to be happy about, they would stop asking about her nonexistent love life.
Pulling out the book that had been lost in between the folds of her skirt, Leonora handed it to Syssi. “I’m sure you had enough of us old crows pecking at you. How about you read to us now?”
As Syssi lifted the book, her breath caught. On the cover, a couple was kissing passionately against a dark and ominous background. A pale moonlight cast light on the tall man and the petite woman, while the tree branches encroaching on the small clearing looked like monsters, their gnarled branches tipped with taloned fingers.
The title, though, was what caused goose bumps to rush all over her skin. In bold white letters, it read: Dreams of a Dark Lover.
Chapter 32: Kian
Kian watched the mourners as they made their way into the clan’s large council room, each stopping by Micah, her brother Otto, and their mother. The three were seated on the raised stage next to Mark’s beautifully carved sarcophagus.
Wearing their traditional mourning robes made of brown jute, the clan members waited their turn to approach the small grieving family one by one, then kneel beside them, hugging or clasping their hands.
Nothing was said, as there were no words that could ease the pain of Mark’s immediate family. It was more about sharing their energy, their warmth, and their love with those who were in desperate need of it.
The overhead screens showed the other clan members in Scotland and Alaska arriving at their respective council rooms and taking their places for the ceremony.
Looking at the screens, Kian waited for Annani and Sari’s arrival, grateful for the marvel of modern technology that made it possible for the whole clan to participate, and for his mother to lead the dirge.
The goddess’s voice would accompany Mark on his journey to the other side, honoring his memory with her song.
Once everyone was seated and the doors closed in all three chambers, Annani made her grand entrance. And though they all knew her and had seen her before, some still gasped and oohed before a respectful hush fell over them all.
The awe and reverence the clan felt for their matriarch was palpable.
She was small and slender, a mere inch or two over five feet, her delicate, otherworldly beauty misleadingly youthful. But there was no mistaking the awesome presence. Fiery red hair cascaded in thick waves over her shoulders all the way down to her hips, and every bit of her exposed skin radiated with white luminescence. Her big green eyes, so old and so wise, shone tonight with an inner light that was bright enough to illuminate an auditorium and inspire reverence.
Raising her glowing arms, Annani pulled the brown hood of her mourning robe over her head, then tucked her hands inside the robe’s sleeves, effectively cutting off her luminescence in a show of respect for the dead.
Lowering her head, she began the lament.
Her voice was angelic, pure and strong. It resonated inside the hearts and souls of her audience, touching their sadness and tugging at its strings. As a chorus of voices joined her, the lament was magnified by the hundreds of voices coming from the sea of brown robes swaying to the mournful sounds.
When Annani reached the last bars of her sad song, Shai activated the hovering platform under the sarcophagus, raising it a couple of inches above the floor.
Kian, together with the seven Guardians, stepped up to the platform. They formed two lines, four on each of its sides, and guided the ornate coffin down the steps. The rest of those present joined the procession behind Mark’s family, accompanying him on his final journey to his resting place in the catacombs.
Once there, Shai raised the sarcophagus higher, and the Guardians helped guide it into the niche that had been selected for him in one of the largest chambers. The same artist who’d made the beautiful sarcophagus had been tasked with carving the inscription into the stone right under the niche.
Kian waited until the chamber was filled, and the last of the mourners entered before addressing the crowd.
“Mark will be missed and remembered, not only by his immediate family but by each and every one of us.” He pointed to the plaque. “It says here, ‘Mark, beloved son of Micah, nephew of Otto, grandson of Jade, great-grandson of Annani.’ But the truth is that Mark is not inside this beautiful sarcophagus. What’s left behind is just the vessel that carried Mark’s eternal soul for as long as he walked the earth. I hope that his journey to the other side was peaceful and that beyond the veil he found love and joy awaiting him. And yet, even though we must believe Mark’s new reality is the mythical heaven, and that he’s well, it’s of little comfort to those who are left behind. We miss him, and his absence will always feel like a vacuum, an open wound in our hearts that will not heal until the day we join him on the other side. Regrettably, the veil which keeps us apart from him and the others we’ve lost and miss is impossible to pierce. In the meantime we, the ones on this side of the divide, must draw strength and courage from each other. Our task of providing enlightenment and holding evil and darkness at bay will never be done as long as the Devout Order Of Mortdh Brotherhood is still out there. We are a family, we stand together, and we will not be defeated, for the simple reason that we cannot. Without us, humanity’s future is doomed to eternal darkness.”
As his people responded with grim nods and quiet murmurs of approval, Kian demonstrated by embracing first Micah then her mother and lastly Otto. When the family left the chamber, Kian and the Guardians took their places on both sides of the empty hovering platform and guided it out. A path was cleared for them, and then the procession reformed behind them.
When the last of his people left, Kian removed his robe, folded it and draped it over his arm. Alone in the penthouse’s dedicated elevator, he could finally let go of the strong posture and reassuring expression he’d been forced to keep up all evening long. With a sigh, he let his shoulders sag and hung his head.
Chapter 33: Syssi
Immersed in the story, Syssi hadn’t noticed how long she’d been reading until her sore throat started protesting. A glance at her watch confirmed that it was late. She lifted her head to glance at the window.
It was getting dark.
Any other Friday, she would’ve paused for a cup of tea and some gossip with her girls and then continued reading for another hour. Today, however, she didn’t feel safe driving home alone at night. The uneasy feeling that had been troubling her lately persisted, and it cautioned her to play it safe.
She closed the book and lifted her head. “I’m afraid this will be all for today.
It’s getting dark and I want to get home before nightfall.”
There were some murmurs of disappointment, but none of the women voiced a protest. They didn’t like her going home while it was dark outside either.
“You’ll have to come back tomorrow, then. I can’t wait until next Friday to hear the rest,” Hattie said.
Syssi agreed, she didn’t want to wait either. The book was amazing, and she was just getting to the good parts. “I know, I’m dying to find out how it ends. I’ll come tomorrow morning. But not too early. I like sleeping in on the weekends.”
Clara clapped her on the back. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like we are going anywhere. And take the book with you. You can finish it tonight.”
Syssi was tempted. It wasn’t as if she had anything else planned, and reading beat watching the tube any day. “But it’s not fair to you girls. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” She offered the book to Leonora.
The woman pushed it back into Syssi’s hand. “It’s okay, child, we know how the story ends.” She winked. “And they lived happily ever after. That’s the beauty of romances; predictable endings that are always happy.”
True, that was why Syssi liked them too. It was light, feel-good reading, and God knew she needed it given the dark clouds always looming on her horizon.
“Thank you.” She kissed Leonora’s cheek, then Hattie’s, and lastly Clara’s. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”
Twenty-five minutes later, Syssi parked her car in front of her landlady’s house. It wasn’t completely dark yet, but it was getting close. Clutching her keys in one hand and the book in the other, Syssi rushed down the long driveway to the guesthouse. She opened the door and locked it immediately after getting in, securing the chain.
The thing was a joke, she knew that—a strong kick and the chain would detach from the wood it was screwed to—but it made her feel just a little bit safer.
Her dinner consisted of a bag of mixed greens topped with stir-fried tofu, and she washed it down with a Coke Zero which was the only poison she allowed herself in her otherwise healthy diet.
Being good about every little thing was boring. A girl needed to be bad about something.
Giddy with anticipation, she got ready for bed and crawled under the blanket with her book. Pathetic, really, that this was what got her excited these days.
But whatever, it wasn’t as if she had anything to prove to anyone. Living an adventure by immersing herself in the pages of a romance novel was much safer than going for real thrills, and it suited her just fine.
Two-thirds into it, her eyelids started drooping and she fell asleep without finding out if the lovers found a way to be together.
Her brain supplied an alternative ending all of its own.
The woods were as dark as they always were in her nightmares, but no wolves were chasing her this time. Unafraid, Syssi strolled leisurely along the familiar path, her eyes trained on the massive tree in the distance. Her lover awaited her there, and she was safe because he would never let anything happen to her. She was precious to him.
He’d told her so.
Feeling the soft fabric of her long white dress caress her thighs and her calves as she walked, Syssi felt sexy, desirable. On her feet, she had simple, flat sandals, but in her dream her modest height didn’t bother her. She felt confident even without the benefit of heels making her taller. Her lover found her beautiful as she was.
With a frown, she tried to recall his name, but even though it felt as if it was on the tip of her tongue, it kept slipping away. She remembered figuring it out the other night, so why for heaven’s sake was it eluding her now?
How was she going to greet him? Hello, my dream lover?
Syssi chuckled as funnier ideas flitted through her mind. She could call him her handsome dude, or hunky hunk hunk. Or she could borrow Amanda’s lingo and just call him darling, or sweetheart, or honey. Men did it all the time when they couldn’t remember a woman’s name. She could do it too.
But it felt distasteful.
She had every intention of continuing what they had started the other night—with a man whose name she didn’t know.
Bad girl, Syssi. Shame on you.
When she got closer, she saw him standing in exactly the same position as the other night. Unmoving, he was looking at something in the direction she was going, but she couldn’t see what it was.
“Hi.” Now that she was so close to him that she could smell him, her confidence faltered and her voice quivered. The man smelled absolutely delicious. Fresh pine and something wild yet safe.
He turned, his intense blue eyes mesmerizing her. “Hello, beautiful. How come you’re here? Did I summon you?”
This was embarrassing. Hadn’t he been waiting for her?
“Are you disappointed that I came?”
Faster than she thought possible, his arm looped around her and he pulled her against his big, hard body. “No. I’m glad you’re here. You’re braver than me. I was afraid to come for you.”
Him? Afraid? Impossible. He was so big and so strong. He made her feel safe.
Lifting her face up, she brought a hand to his cheek and cupped it gently. “I can’t imagine what can scare a man like you.”
He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her lightly. “You do.”
Her eyes widened. “Me? No one is scared of me. I’m a nice person. I would never harm anyone.”
“I know, sweet girl. Not intentionally. But you are very dangerous. I’m afraid that you’re going to tear out my heart from my chest and hold it in the palm of your hand—my life at your mercy.”
Ugh, not romantic. Not at all.
“That sounds awful.”
He smiled, his fangs not as long or terrifying as they’d been the other night. “You see? I’m bad at this. I don’t know the right things to say.”
So that was what scared a big guy like him. He wasn’t big on words. Well, what she wanted from him didn’t require a lot of talking. He might feel more confident with the doing.
Good thing it was a dream and she wasn’t encumbered by her overpowering shyness. It was such a good feeling, to just say what was on her mind. Get it out.
“Make love to me. You’re good at that.”
He chuckled. “That, I am.”
The bed appeared out of nowhere, a four poster monstrosity covered with white fluffy pillows and a white down comforter that looked like it was a foot thick.
Should she climb on top of it?
It wouldn’t be graceful. The mattress was at least three feet off the ground, and Syssi would have to either hop or scramble to get there. Neither of which could’ve been done in a sexy or alluring manner.
As dreams went, she wasn’t doing a good job at creating the right environment for a romantic atmosphere.
He solved her dilemma, swinging her up into his strong arms in one fluid motion, and sitting on the bed while still holding her tight.
Not sure what to do next, Syssi brought her hands to the row of small buttons at the front of her dress and started fumbling with the first one.
He grasped her hands and brought them to his lips for a kiss. “Let me, sweet girl, you keep your hands down by your sides.”
The unmistakable tone of command in his voice did something to her. Syssi felt her nipples draw tight and her panties grow damp. A flush bloomed on her face and on her chest, the white dress contrasting and accentuating the redness. But it wasn’t embarrassment that had caused it. It was the heat of excitement.
The only other time Syssi had felt passion that intense had been the night before. With the same man: Her dream lover.
She should ask him for his name.
Later.
Done with the top portion of the buttons, he parted the two halves of her dress, stealing her ability to think let alone talk or ask questions.
Her back arched of its own volition, thrusting her chest up. She couldn’t wait to feel his big hands on her naked breasts. What a shame sh
e was wearing a bra. Unlike the other dream, though, she didn’t dispense with it with a thought. She wanted him to do it at his own pace. Having him in charge of her pleasure was exactly how she wanted it.
In a dream, social conventions and her own ideas of how a woman should act were of no consequence.
This was about pure pleasure.
She couldn’t help a frustrated whimper as his fingers brushed lightly over her lacy bra, barely touching her stiff peaks.
With eyes that were smoldering with passion, he went back to the buttons, opening each and every one until the two halves of her dress slid open. Her body was fully on display for him, with nothing other than a sheer white lacy bra and matching panties.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, placing his palm over her soft tummy. Fingers splayed, his palm spanned the entire width of her.
A thought drifted through her mind that a man that big would be proportionally endowed. It gave her pause. What if she was too small?
She had a thing for tall guys, but this man was exceptionally tall. Maybe the disparity was too much?
Except, this was a dream. Her dream. And she could make sure that everything fit perfectly.
The hand on her tummy moved lower, and Syssi held her breath in anticipation. She was burning with desire, clutching her teeth together to stifle the needy whimpers that threatened to escape her mouth. When his palm finally made contact with her heated center, engulfing it in its entirety, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back.
“Look at me, sweet girl,” he commanded. “Watch me pleasure you.”
Lifting her lids halfway, she obeyed, watching his hand as he pushed her panties aside and slid his fingers over her engorged folds.
“You’re so wet for me,” he hissed out, and the smoldering look in his eyes turned luminescent.