‘I can’t,’ Freya says.
‘Why?’ Donna asks.
‘Because I don’t know, not really, but Satori does.’
‘Then ask him. Don’t come around here asking me all these stupid questions. Why are you here anyway, Freya? We were never friends. Why do you suddenly think I have the answer to your questions?’
Freya stands up. Her legs are parted in a strong and dominant stance and her hands press against her hips. She juts her chin forward and frowns. ‘You’re a fool, Donna - a weak, snivelling fool. You think Star loved you? She never loved you. You tried to pin her down when all she wanted was to be free. Well, maybe she is free now. Do you think she’ll thank you if you find her, or if you send the police chasing after her? She smashed Raven’s skull into a bloody pulp. You think you can tame her? Play happy families? Make a future with that psycho? Fuck it. I’m out of here. Enjoy the wine and your memories.’
‘Bitch!’ Donna screams.
‘Crazy cunt. Ivan was right about you. You’re empty, hollow. Star can’t fill you. No one can.’
Donna downs her glass and pours another. ‘Get out!’ she growls. ‘Get out of my fucking house. You’re poison. You and Steve deserve each other.’
Freya turns to leave. As her fingers close around the door handle she calls behind her. ‘All Satori deserves is a long and painful death. I thought you might want a piece of that.’
Donna stares at Freya’s long blonde hair, knotted with ribbons and dirt. Anger builds inside Donna. Fire rages in her chest. She shakes with rage. My friends are all mad. My world is sick. I am drowning in their insanity.
As the door closes behind Freya, Donna stands up. She crosses to the stove, but doesn’t find what she is looking for. She opens the cutlery drawer and sees her lighter. Holding it in her left hand she struggles to untie the bin bag one handed and pulls a newspaper from the jumble inside. On the cover is a photograph of Sarah. ‘Goth killer still not found.’ She rips the story from the rest of the paper, which she lets fall to the floor by her feet. Her angry tears fall onto Sarah’s beautiful face. She closes her fist around the paper and crumples it. Clutching it tightly to her chest, she cries. I am empty without you. She flicks the lighter and holds its flame below the distorted image. It lights quickly and she throws it on top of the gaping rubbish bag. Smoke fills the room. The alarm wails. Donna holds her hands over her ears and sings.
Chapter 13
Freya follows where her feet lead, away from Donna but not towards home. She could phone Ivan. He would probably collect her. Even though she knows he feels uncomfortable near her now. She’s still the baby. The one he must protect. The one they all want to protect. She passes the park. Her feet lead her away from the gate. There is nothing there for her this evening. Gentle rain falls on her. Her damp hair sticks to her neck. She doesn’t question where she is going.
It is only as she rounds the corner to his street that she realises her destination. What will I say? Questions form in her brain. Are they my questions or do they belong to my goddess? The house is in darkness. He may not be home, but if he isn’t she wouldn’t have been led here. She presses the doorbell and waits. There is no answer. He can’t be asleep yet. She rings again. He must be there. Maybe he doesn’t want to answer. Or perhaps he is lost in his magic?
She steps back and looks up at the windows. Which is his? Left or right? Seeing a pebble near the gate, she picks it up and tosses it towards the left hand window. The stone clicks against the pane. Standing in the darkness, she watches for movement. He must be there. She can feel him.
There is a movement at the window. A face paler than the moon peers out into the night. Freya’s body tingles. So this is what they saw in him. He never looked so beautiful before. More beautiful than the sun. She shakes her head. These are not my thoughts. Whose then? Lilith’s?
Freya feels uncertain. Why am I here? For answers to my questions of course, not to be the vessel for Lilith’s desire.
Satori opens the window. ‘Freya?’ his voice shakes. He sounds unsure of himself.
‘Yes, it’s me. Can I come in?’ she calls back to him.
He nods and the face withdraws from the window.
When Satori opens the door his hair is wild, his clothes crumpled and his eyes half closed. Their greyness shaded by long lashes. ‘How are you, Freya?’
‘Okay I guess. You busy?’
He shakes his head and moves aside to let her through. She steps into the dark hallway.
‘Power cut?’
‘Huh, oh no, I…’ He reaches past her and flicks the light switch. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Got any wine?’ she asks, looking at the walls. Artwork fills the space. She recognises one of Sarah’s pieces and walks towards it.
‘Red or white?’ he asks as he hurries past her and switches on the kitchen lights.
‘Red. Thanks.’
‘Take a seat in the living room. I’ll bring the bottle through.’
She walks into the room. The curtains are open. Light from the street outside provides a little illumination. Pale blue chairs and a settee surround a coffee table. A music system squats against the far wall. Beyond an arch a dining table and eight chairs crouch. The polished wooden floor clicks beneath her feet. She turns on a light and picks up one of the magazines fanned elegantly across the table. Two empty glasses rest beside them. She picks one up and sniffs: whisky.
The magazine “Marketing Today” doesn’t hold her interest. She looks through the rest. All look glossy. She cannot imagine Satori reading any of them. He crosses the room behind her and she turns to take her drink. He smiles at her but his eyes are full of pain.
‘I miss her too,’ she offers.
He nods.
‘Do you know where she is?’
‘Not really,’ he says.
He doesn’t seem to want to say more so she sits down and watches him.
He chooses the chair opposite her and sips his drink.
‘It’s delicious. What is it?’ she asks.
He shrugs. ‘Zinfandel, I think.’
‘I saw Donna this evening,’ Freya says, hoping for some kind of response.
His face darkens, but he doesn’t answer. A hint of a shrug in his shoulders perhaps or maybe he is just getting comfortable.
‘Were you asleep?’ she asks.
He looks into her eyes. ‘No. I was just thinking.’
Her body softens and she sinks back into the chair. ‘Magic?’
He smiles again. This time the smile feels real. Even his eyes light up a little. ‘Of course.’
‘Was Ivan here earlier?’
Satori’s face changes again. His jaw relaxes. His smile falls. He keeps eye contact. Is he trying to read her thoughts? She looks away.
‘Yes, he was here.’
Freya sighs. Getting information from Satori will be harder than from my brother. ‘Did you tell him what happened?’
‘He already knew.’
‘I don’t. Tell me, please. I’m not a child. Raven and Star, they were my friends. It was like losing my sister all over again. I need to know.’
Satori shifts in his seat. He looks down at his glass and takes a sip. ‘You should ask Ivan.’
‘You know my family. They always want to protect me. I don’t need protection. I want to know.’
‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Freya. You’d feel how Star felt. You’d think me crazy.’
‘I promise I won’t,’ she says.
‘You can’t make that promise, can you?’ he asks.
‘Huh? What do you mean?’ Freya blushes.
Satori shrugs. ‘Nothing. I didn’t mean anything.’
‘Tell me, please. I need to know.’
‘Why is it so important to you, Freya?’
‘I told you.’
‘No, you didn’t.’ Satori’s eyes narrow.
Freya feels the colour rise in her cheeks. She shudders. The room feels cold and Satori’s stare feels colder still
. ‘Maybe, I - I should go.’
‘Don’t go. Tell me what you know.’ His voice is firm.
‘I shouldn’t have come here.’
‘That’s probably true, but you did come here. Finish your drink.’
Freya’s face burns. She sips her drink. When she looks up she sees his eyes still focused upon her. This was a mistake. She knows nothing new and he…well perhaps he knows everything now.
‘I’m lonely,’ she says softly. ‘I just wanted company.’
When she looks up again he is no longer staring at her.
‘Satori?’ she says.
‘That’s what Raven said. Isn’t it funny how loss makes us crave physical contact, any contact?’
‘Raven was in love with you,’ Freya says.
‘I know.’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’
He laughs. The noise is a hard, dry rasp. ‘Wasn’t it?’
Freya’s skin prickles. She sits up and leans towards him. ‘Of course not. Why would you think such a thing?’ She considers reaching across, grasping his fingers, but the balance is too delicate. She must be patient.
His silence fills the room. He wants to talk. She can tell he wants to let his guilt pour out of him. He wants absolution. She takes the bottle and refills both glasses, careful not to break the pregnant silence even with the chink of glass against glass. The noiseless room screams to be filled with the sound of his voice.
His hand shakes as he lifts the glass to his lips. ‘I only wanted her back.’
Freya nods in sympathy.
‘I didn’t think. I never think,’ he says.
‘None of us do.’ Her voice is a whisper.
‘What do you know about demons?’ Satori asks.
‘We all have them.’
He laughs again. ‘Never a truer word.’
‘Let it go. Forgive yourself.’
Satori’s shoulders shake. Tears roll down his cheeks. Freya aches to hold him to her breast, stroke his hair, make him whole again.
‘I can’t let it go. I have to make it right again,’ he tells her.
‘But what can you do?’
‘I can get her back.’ He gulps the wine from his glass.
Freya refills it for him. ‘Where is she?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve tried reading but none of it…none of it makes much sense to me. Things always make sense to me. Why not this? Maybe she’s there…Binah, perhaps.’
‘Is that in Wales?’ Freya asks.
‘Not quite,’ he says. His face changes again, a sneer this time. ‘In fact, you know what? I think you know better than that. I think you know a lot more.’
Freya shivers. Satori’s eyes focus on her again. She feels his mind probe hers. Shutting her thoughts to him, she lets just one word fill her head.
‘Lilith,’ he whispers.
‘What?’ Freya looks across at the hallway through the open door. She wonders how quickly she could run through it and out of the house. Would the front door be locked? Will he catch her before she gets out?
‘You said Lilith.’
‘No I didn’t,’ she says, shaking her head.
‘Maybe not. But the thought was as loud as any word uttered.’
‘That’s the name of the woman Star left with, isn’t it?’
‘Oh yes. Except, we both know she isn’t a woman.’
‘Do we?’ Freya shifts in her seat. Adrenalin pumps into her muscles.
‘Of course. I opened a gateway, but I think you brought her here. Why did you do that?’
‘I didn’t mean to,’ she whispers.
‘Tell me what happened, Freya?’
‘She offered me something I wanted.’
‘Ivan?’
Freya’s face burns. ‘How did you know?’
‘I didn’t until now. Do you know what you’ve done?’
She nods. ‘Do I repulse you?’
‘Repulse me, why?’
‘Ivan’s my brother.’
Satori shrugs. ‘I hadn’t even considered that. What does it matter anyway? You brought Lilith here and she killed Star? That’s all I care about. You stupid little girl, you brought a demon here for your own selfish purposes.’
‘Isn’t that what you were trying to do?’ she asks.
‘What?’ Satori picks up his glass and empties it again. When he speaks his voice is softer, no longer fuelled by anger. ‘Yes, you’re right. I suppose it was. Okay then, do you want to help me put it right?’
Looking up at him, she smiles. ‘Of course.’
‘Then help me find them.’
Chapter 14
‘What do you need me to do?’ Freya asks.
‘I need someone to guide me through the planes. I thought Ivan would help me, but I think you probably know more about it than he does,’ Satori answers.
‘I doubt it.’
‘You’ve been up there though.’
Freya nods. ‘Yes.’
Satori blushes. ‘It was my first trip today. That’s where I was when you rang the doorbell. I’ve found where to start. But I have no clue where to go from here.’
‘What’s it like?’ she asks.
‘Huh?’
‘Your sacred space, at least that’s what Ivan calls it. What’s yours like?’
‘Oh, um…’
‘Haha, you’re embarrassed. What, does it have some huge tower like you’re compensating for something…oh shit, it does doesn’t it?’
Satori shuffles in his seat. ‘No. What have you got in yours then?’
‘A tree,’ Freya says.
‘And…’
‘Just a tree.’
‘What kind of tree?’ Satori asks.
‘A weeping willow,’ she answers.
‘How Gothic.’
‘Indeed, tower boy.’
‘I…okay yes I have a tower.’ He laughs. ‘But I’m not compensating. I like…towers. So your willow tree…’
‘Yes.’
‘Is it as beautiful as your hair?’
‘What the fuck, Satori? Where did that come from?’
‘Sorry. I’m just saying…’
‘And I’m just saying, forget it. There’s no way that’s ever gonna happen. The people you seduce have a habit of ending up dead.’
Satori looks away. His mouth moves as if he’s about to speak, but thinks better of it.
Freya watches the colour rise in his cheeks and feels embarrassed for him, embarrassed and awkward because she rejected him. Maybe he was simply being friendly, paying me a compliment? Did I misunderstand? Something clicks inside her and the awkwardness grows into nervousness, which morphs into anger. Why would he say that? Is sex all he wants from women? Perhaps he looks at me and all he can see is a pretty thing for him to pet? Am I not his equal? Of course I am. What then? Confused, she shakes her head and decides to change the subject. ‘So are we going to try to find your way tonight?’
‘Have you got somewhere else to be?’ he asks.
‘No, I’m good.’
‘All right then,’ Satori says, refilling the glasses. ‘But I haven’t left my…tower yet. Where should we meet?’
‘I haven’t left my Gothic tree. Shall we follow our paths and think of each other? Maybe our feet will lead us there.’
‘It’s a better plan than any I’ve come up with,’ Satori says.
‘Where?’
‘Mum will be home soon. Is…my bedroom okay?’
‘Well, I don’t actually need to be here, do I?’ Freya asks.
‘I thought it might help,’ he says.
‘It probably won’t. Not with the mood you’re in tonight,’ she answers.
Satori sighs. ‘I guess so. Ten o’clock then. That gives you an hour to get home and get ready. Will Ivan pick you up or shall I walk you home?’
‘How many fucking times? I don’t need your protection.’
Chapter 15
Sarah sits up. Nerve endings scream with pain as she bends her body and a vicious hiss of air wheezes from
her stomach. The tears which form in her eyes have nowhere to go and sting her like acid. Everything hurts. I should be dead? Why do I still hurt? Is this hell?
The monster is quiet. Sarah has no idea whether it has gone or whether it is waiting nearby. She rolls onto her hands and knees, gasping with the effort. The wounds on her breast and belly drip hot liquid.
Her back is warmed by what she assumes is the sun. Limbs shaking, she crawls slowly. The thought that she could be edging towards danger rather than away from it nags at her brain, but she refuses to give up and lie down. She would rather fight with the last of her strength than give in.
The ground feels damp beneath her fingers. Her nails sink into the soft earth. The feeling soothes her a little. It is, at least, familiar. It reminds her of planting flowers with her mother as a child, pushing peat into holes in the garden. They had a beautiful garden. It always smelt of rose and jasmine. She grabs hold of the memory and lets it carry her as she struggles onwards. Her mother, for all her faults, had loved her once. She remembers cuddles and freshly baked cakes. Stories at bedtime and kisses when she fell. Even her father’s cruelty had its origins in love. They had wanted to protect her, keep her pure and safe from harm. Safe from this. If only I had listened to them. Let them help me… More tears burn her eyeballs. She takes a deep breath. No time for tears and what ifs. I did what I had to do. I am what I am. Trying to be someone else hurt me as much as this new torture.
In spite of everything she misses her parents. Not the arguments, the insults or the occasional acts of violence during her teenage years, but the security she felt when she was a child: the warmth of their home, the smell and music of the church and the wonderful cooking. That sense of knowing her parents knew what was best for her. She misses all that. She misses her dog too. The way he would lick her bare feet at the breakfast table and the way he would roll over to have his belly rubbed. She had grieved when he died even though she had already left home by then, escaped to university. Now death surrounds her, even her own.
Raven’s face fills her head. An unbidden memory but she accepts it. The beautiful, hard woman who slept with Satori; she shouldn’t have killed her. She still doesn’t understand how the violence exploded so quickly inside her. Was it the demonic baby she was carrying or simply jealousy? It’s a question without an answer, but as she watches her old friend’s face break open again over the toilet seat she offers her apologies. Was that when it started or when it finished? Everything since that moment feels like a dream, as if I was already dead from the moment I fled the nightclub covered in Raven’s blood.
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