Starblood Trilogy

by Carmilla Voiez

  Freya leans back. Her weight drags on his shoulders, but he welcomes it. She slams harder against him. Inside she feels herself change. Her body flutters and pulses. She wants to scream with the pleasure of it. Opening her mouth wide, she laughs until the passion becomes too great for laughter and her shriek bounces off the trees. An owl opens its huge wings and takes flight. Its amber eyes stare at her, judge her. Dave’s moans join her shrieks and she feels his spine flex and his hips shudder.

  ‘Lilith,’ she whispers.

  She steps down from the tree and pulls her clothing back on.

  ‘Wow!’ Dave gasps. ‘Wow!’

  She smiles.

  ‘Untie me so I can hold you and thank you properly,’ he tells her.

  She looks at him and shakes her head. His eyes change. They darken and widen. Is that fear or anger?

  She opens the rucksack and pulls out a candle. She lights the wick and holds it between their faces. The warmth prickles her skin. The shifting light makes his sweat glisten.

  ‘I’m still having fun,’ she tells him.

  He manages a half smile and strains against the ropes. ‘What now?’ he asks, looking at her.

  ‘I just want to play. You said you were mine, right?’

  ‘Of course, but I’m not sure…’

  ‘I’ll look after you, my love,’ she whispers.

  The candle smells enticing as it begins to liquefy. She tips it and lets the wax drip onto Dave’s chest. He winces but he doesn’t cry out.

  ‘Do you like that?’ she asks.

  ‘Not particularly. Let’s play something else.’

  ‘What do you want to play?’

  ‘I could tie you up. Lick you all over,’ Dave offers.

  ‘We played that game before.’ Freya pouts.

  ‘We could drive back and get pissed in the park.’ More wax drips onto his skin. He grits his teeth. ‘Watch out Freya. That fucking hurts, you know.’

  She nods. ‘Yes I know. Give in to it. The pain becomes delicious after a while.’

  He struggles again. ‘Freya, I’m not consenting to this. I want you to stop. I know you’re hurting. You’re angry and I get that, but you’re not angry at me.’

  ‘Aren’t I?’ she asks.

  ‘Okay, tell me. What have I done to piss you off?’

  ‘It’s about power, baby. Last time you didn’t wait for me. You stole my power and left me empty and sticky. This time is going to be different.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I really am. I thought you wanted me. I thought that was why you dragged me into the forest.’ Dave struggles against the ropes.

  ‘I did. I do. Just not like that.’

  ‘Like what then?’ His voice pleads.

  ‘Like this.’

  ‘You want to torture me? Ow fuck it, Freya! Take that candle away from me.’

  She stares at him through cold, clear eyes. What is he but a pretty toy? He isn’t Ivan. He’s nothing more than a fuck. Could he be more? If I stop now will he forgive me? Will I forgive myself? She blows the candle out and scowls at him.

  ‘Thank you,’ he says. Tears press through his lashes and roll down his cheeks. ‘Untie me, please.’

  She runs her fingertip down his chest and he flinches. Her heart races and her body shakes. She feels sick.

  ‘What am I to you?’ she asks him.

  ‘You’re Freya. Beautiful, intelligent, crazy…just untie me okay. I’ll show you what you are to me.’

  ‘Why did you shrink away when I touched you?’

  ‘What? I didn’t.’ His stomach is striped with deep red welts where his body strains against the ropes. He reminds Freya of a cornered tiger.

  ‘Just then. When I stroked your chest you tried to pull away from me. Why?’

  ‘Just the pain, the shock. Look come here. Kiss me.’ His smile looks fake. He is an unconvincing actor.

  ‘I don’t trust you,’ she hisses.

  ‘What the fuck? You don’t trust me because I don’t want you setting me alight? You really are one crazy bitch, Freya.’

  She steps away from him. Cocking her head to one side, she studies his face, chest, groin and legs. Goose pimples cover his flesh. He must be freezing. Maybe once he stops being frightened he will realise how cold he is? She puts the candle on the ground and watches his body relax.

  She squats beside her bag and pulls out a carving knife.

  He shakes his head. ‘No,’ he says. His voice sounds broken. His tears become a waterfall of fear and frustration. ‘Freya, think about what you’re doing. This isn’t you. You’re sweet, kind, generous. Please, put the knife down. Freya, you’re scaring me.’

  She steps towards him and kisses his lips. He trembles. His mouth is frozen in fear. His lips do not soften as hers touch them. With the blunt edge of the knife she traces a line from his throat to his belly button.

  ‘I want to see what you really look like,’ she tells him.

  She hears the hiss of water. Something hot and wet splashes onto her feet.

  ‘What? Stop it you dirty bastard,’ she shouts.

  She walks away, then back to him. Pacing back and forth, talking all the time, though not to him. ‘Tell me what you need.’ Then silence as she listens to a reply only she can hear. ‘And then?’ While she speaks and listens she keeps marching across the glade, towards and away from her captive.

  Dave struggles against the ropes.

  She points towards him with the knife. ‘No, no, no.’ Turning from him, she resumes her conversation. ‘What do I need to say?’ She nods in understanding. ‘Then I’ll reach you?’

  She stops pacing and turns to face Dave. His body freezes as though the music has stopped at the end of a dance and he doesn’t yet know the next tune. Freya strides towards him, holding the knife in front of her right shoulder.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers.

  The tip of the knife scratches his chest. A narrow thread of blood snakes towards the ground. She presses harder.

  As if released from a spell, Dave screams.

  Chapter 28

  Look away again, Satori pleads. He will react quicker this time. Use the opportunity to flee.

  If the cockatrice hears his thoughts it ignores them. Their eyes are connected by a power Satori is unable to resist. Those eyes, burning like embers, bury into his soul.

  I have work to do. I have to understand. He projects his thoughts towards the monster in the vain hope that it might understand and release him. Why are you doing this to me?

  The creature’s tail whips through the air. The rest of its body remains still, poised for swift movement, yet motionless.

  Satori’s eyes cannot close and yet they do not sting. His lungs and heart do not pump, but he feels neither breathless nor light headed. His thoughts are clear. He needs to unlock his limbs and leave this cursed place. He needs to find Star.

  Slowly the cockatrice shakes its beaked head. Its eyes remain focused on Satori even as its feathered neck turns from left to right.

  She needs me.

  Again the creature’s neck twists from side to side.

  I need her.

  As the monster’s head bows, Satori takes his chance and turns away. His legs stretch into a run. He hears the creature race towards him. Its feet land so heavily that the earth shakes beneath them. The impact of the creature’s leap throws Satori off balance. He falls away into the jealous embrace of the pool’s waters. Before his face submerges into its depths he screams.

  Goo fills his mouth and nose. The sensual caress of the buffeting liquid terrifies him. He pushes with his arms and legs, trying to reach the surface. The water drags him downwards.

  His arms itch. His chest burns. Something inside him moves upwards against the external pressure. It claws its way from his chest. His throat stretches to accommodate its journey. His jaw opens so wide he fears it must snap in two. Internal pain distracts him from the external danger. I cannot survive this. His mind screams for release. Scales scratch his tongue. Claws dig into his gu
ms, dragging something hidden from his throat. Before he passes out he sees a creature, like the cockatrice’s tail but far uglier, beat its tail and weave away from him into the darkness.

  Satori wakes beside the pool. His body curled in a foetal position. His left side, pressed between the ground and the weight of his body, is bruised. He moves slowly. His limbs shake in complaint.

  Satori’s head spins. He feels exhausted. His mind wants to break out of his skull and slink back into the pool. He needs peace. He needs time to heal.

  What was that? What deserted me in the pool? He searches every nerve ending and every neuron for an answer. Shaking his aching head he abandons the thought.

  All this for what? So I can be strong? He feels weaker than a kitten. A gentle breeze could send him tumbling back into the pool and he would never have the strength or even the will to swim to the surface. If Freya arrives now she will make short work of him.

  His body shakes violently. He cannot stay here. He must return later when he is stronger. He tells his mind to send him home.

  Lying in bed, his body vibrates. He feels tightness around his shoulders and hears his mother crying. He opens his eyes. Her head is bowed over him. Her hands grip his shoulders as she shakes him.

  ‘Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.’ Marian’s sobs punctuate each sentence like a hiccup.

  ‘Mum?’ His voice croaks. His lungs feel empty of air and his words grate like jagged metal along his throat.

  She takes a moment to focus on him.

  ‘Mum,’ he says again, louder this time. ‘What’s wrong?’

  She wraps her arms around him and drenches his hair with her tears. ‘I thought I’d lost you. I thought I’d lost you. Oh my son, my baby. What did you take?’

  ‘Take? What are you talking about?’

  ‘You were out cold. Look around you? The ambulance is on its way.’

  He doesn’t need to look. He can smell and feel the stagnant swamp around and beneath him.

  ‘Oh fuck! I need a shower.’ Faeces and urine cling to him as he runs to the bathroom. In the distance he hears sirens and his mother descending the stairs.

  A few minutes later there’s a knock on the bathroom door. ‘Baby, they need to check you out,’ his mother calls to him.

  ‘I’ll just be a moment,’ he shouts back, scrubbing his head.

  His body stinks even though he has washed and scrubbed it as hard and frantically as he is able. His head spins. He bends over the toilet bowl and vomits. The knocking returns.

  ‘Are you okay? Steve?’

  He rinses his mouth and unlocks the door.

  ‘Can you walk to the ambulance?’ one of the two paramedics asks him.

  He nods. ‘But I’m okay. I don’t need to go to hospital again.’

  ‘Again?’ the paramedic asks as he is guided down the stairs.

  ‘Yes,’ his mother answers, walking close behind. ‘Just under a week ago he was admitted for dehydration and exhaustion.’

  ‘Okay. Which hospital was this?’

  ‘Redhill General.’

  ‘But he’s been okay since…until now?’

  Marian nods.

  ‘How long would you say he was unconscious for?’

  ‘At least fourteen hours. He was already asleep when I got home from work yesterday.’

  ‘Does he often sleep for a long time?’

  ‘Yes, but…’ Marian pauses and looks at her son. Her eyes are wide with pain.

  Satori wants to hold her and reassure her, but his arm is held tightly by a paramedic and he needs to concentrate on each step down the stairs.

  ‘Yes?’ the paramedic urges.

  ‘I found him in a bed full of his own sweat, shit and piss. That’s never happened before. I thought maybe he’d taken something.’

  ‘Have you consumed anything: drugs, alcohol, unusual foods over the past forty-eight hours?’ The paramedic faces Satori.

  It takes Satori a moment to realise he exists and that he is being asked a question. He shakes his head.

  ‘Are you certain?’

  Satori nods.

  ‘Does your son have any allergies, Mrs …?’

  ‘No, none,’ Marian answers.

  ‘Okay…Steve. We’re going to check your pulse and blood pressure and get you on a drip, okay? We’ll take you across to Redhill so they can check you out.’

  ‘No, please, no.’ The effort of speaking burns Satori’s throat.

  ‘We need to do this, Steve. We don’t know yet what caused the problem.’

  ‘I’m fine. It was just a deep sleep.’ Please, no.

  ‘I’m sorry, Son.’ The medic shuffles Satori through the open door to the ambulance.

  ‘I’ll follow in the car,’ Marian says.

  On a thin plastic covered mattress he lies back and lets men wrap padding around his arm and stick a needle into his skin. Nothing seems real. He cannot understand what went wrong. Did my body expel fluids as I expelled whatever the hell that thing was in Yesod? Fear prods his mind. That thing, what was it? It felt evil. I thought it would tear me apart as it made its escape. Was it part of me, part of my soul? Or was it something else, a parasitic lodger? Was it a demon? Will it come back? He wants his mother. He wants to be held and told that everything is okay. He feels like a helpless child. When will this end?

  The paramedic asks him questions. What did he take? How long had he been unconscious? Had it happened to him before? He wants to tell the man the truth but he knows he will not understand. He fears the diagnosis and the mentally paralysing drugs which will inevitably follow. He cannot form a believable lie. Instead he lies there shivering, letting questions flow over him. Let them believe I am ill. Just don’t let them believe I am mad.

  When they reach the hospital he faces more of the same. In short shifts nurses and doctors cluck over him, speaking to him through his mother when he remains silent. In a few hours he is released into Marian’s care and she drives him home. Between them a chasm of unspoken questions and answers opens.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ he ventures at last.

  She turns to him and smiles. ‘You’re okay. That’s all that matters.’

  He relaxes into the car seat and dozes.

  ‘The doctors said it’s probably a virus. You need to drink plenty of water. I’ll take a couple of days off work.’

  ‘You don’t need to, Mum. I’m fine. I just feel a little tired.’

  ‘What happened, Steve?’

  ‘I can’t tell you. You couldn’t understand.’

  ‘Try me,’ she says.

  ‘You’ll think I’m crazy,’ he replies.

  ‘Oh my darling, I already think that. But you’re also the most amazing person I’ve had the pleasure to meet. You’re my son. I’ll stand by you whatever.’

  ‘And tell no one?’ he asks.

  Marian sighs. ‘That depends, I guess.’

  ‘Exactly! Look I’m okay. I’m just working through some things. You know Star…Sarah…everything that’s happened.’

  ‘Of course…’ She nods and her shoulders relax a little.

  ‘Did I tell you Donna’s in hospital?’ Satori asks.

  ‘No. Why?’

  ‘She set fire to her flat.’

  ‘Oh my god!’

  ‘She’s dying, Mum, and I feel responsible,’ he tells her.

  Marian pulls the car up to the kerb and turns to face Satori. She clasps both his hands in hers. He feels strength flowing from her body into his.

  ‘It isn’t your fault, darling. None of it is.’

  Her eyes are so wide, her heart so open, he almost believes her.

  He looks into her pale eyes. ‘I never meant to hurt anyone,’ he tells her.

  ‘I know. I know. It isn’t your fault.’

  ‘Raven and I…we made love…and Star killed her. How can that not be my fault, Mum?’

  ‘Things happen, especially when you’re young. Things you never intended. Sometimes they work out well, like you did. Other times they end badly.
No one’s to blame. It’s just life.’

  Satori looks at his lap and his mum touches his shoulder.

  ‘Do you want to go and see her?’ she asks.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Donna. Do you want to go and see her in hospital?’

  ‘We were never close, Mum.’

  ‘But you feel responsible. You could tell her you’re sorry. It might make you feel better. You know, Steve, you can’t carry on like this, don’t you?’

  ‘Like what?’ he asks.

  ‘Making yourself sick all the time,’ she says.

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Then tell me what’s going on. Why did I find you in your bed like…that?’ Marian pronounces the final word with such distaste that Satori feels ashamed.

  ‘I can’t explain it to you, Mum. I know you really want to understand. But you can’t.’

  Marian sighs. She swallows hard. Her hands shake and she rubs her fingers together. ‘Steve.’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘I want you to stop,’ she says.

  ‘You must be joking.’ He turns away. He cannot meet her expectant stare.

  ‘I’m not, Baby. The magic, it’s killing you.’

  ‘It isn’t, Mum and I won’t stop. If you want me out of the house tell me, but this is who I am. It’s who I will always be. To tell me to quit magic is like ordering me to stop breathing. I can’t.’

  ‘Maybe we should see someone.’