Starblood Trilogy

by Carmilla Voiez

  ‘Twenty metres maybe,’ Donna answers. ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘Run…and… fight.’

  ‘How?’ she asks.

  ‘I…don’t…know…yet.’

  ‘Steve, I’m scared.’

  ‘Me…too…Stay…strong,’ Satori tells her.

  ‘Okay.’

  She tries to turn her head to look behind them.

  ‘We’ll…make…it,’ he assures her.

  Not far now. He pushes his body onwards. The rock face looms above them. The steps are narrow and he knows he cannot climb them, carry her and fight. He also knows he cannot leave her. As they reach the edge he settles her on the ground and spins around to shield her. He has no weapons other than what is inside his head. He has never used magic to fight before. Terror fills him. He has to try.

  ‘Go on without me,’ she tells him.

  ‘Never. I just need to think of the right magic.’

  ‘I’m so hot. My arms are burning.’

  ‘Your arms?’ Her arm. The letters.

  Satori watches as the wolves come closer. They move slower now they know their prey is trapped. There are eleven of them, plus the dragon above. Satori asks his mind what to do. He sends the question to Star. What should I do? An answer comes, but he has little faith in it. He shakes his head to dismiss self-doubt. Choices are something I don’t have.

  He opens his arms and imagines wind rushing from his chest towards the animals. Pressure builds. He closes his eyes and concentrates. Fear vanishes and the turmoil inside becomes part of the storm he creates. The letters. He visualises the letters. They burn in his mind. The power of them crackles with an alien fury. He focuses on them and the wind, puts his lips together and blows. As the last of his breath is forced from his lungs he breathes in again sharply and screams. A sound like nails down a blackboard rips through the valley. As he yells the letters into the wind he hears sparks of electricity. He opens his eyes to see a power greater than he ever hoped to master. A hurricane floods from between his open hands, forked lightning shoots upwards and outwards. He hears a scream as the dragon is wounded. The wolves turn to flee the storm as the creature above them struggles to stay airborne. Careening on tattered wings it glides to the safety of the precipice above. When Satori looks back across the grass, only a memory of the wolves remains.

  It takes more effort to drop his arms than he needed to create the storm. As he falls to the ground he hears Donna’s voice.

  ‘We’re safe. They’ve gone.’

  Then he blacks out.

  Satori wakes in his bedroom. The t-shirt he wears is stuck to his skin. Moonlight streams through the window. He checks his clock, one o’clock. He wipes his eyes wondering whether he has spent one hour or twenty-five on the planes. The fact that his bedding is still clean suggests he has only been gone for an hour.

  He pulls on his jeans and wanders downstairs. Voices from a television scratch at the edges of his hearing. His mother sits slumped on the sofa. He cannot tell whether she is conscious or not. He walks softly into the room. Her eyes are closed. Her cheeks are blotchy and she is surrounded by a sea of used tissues. As he lifts her from the sofa she opens her eyes and for a moment he sees Donna. A stab of guilt reminds him that he should be there not here. Marian smiles and sniffs then closes her eyes again. He carries her to her room and pulls the duvet over her.

  Returning downstairs, he makes himself a coffee. He doesn’t want to sleep. He needs to return to Hod and find a way of transporting Donna up the staircase. With luck the dragon won’t wait for them at the summit. Perhaps the staircase will lead to the next realm. Automatically he checks his pockets, but the map isn’t there. It doesn’t exist on this plane. He will check The Tree when he returns to his room.

  Bitter coffee burns his stomach like acid. His limbs shake in protest, telling him he needs sleep not caffeine, but he refuses to listen. He sips every drop and opens the back door. Frozen air rushes at him. At first he welcomes the cold until memories resurface: shivering in the mountains, naked and alone within a circle of stone. He had sent Lilith back to Chaos and he had almost died in the process. How will I fare in such a battle in Lilith’s world? His chances of success seem lower than ever. Thoughts of the storm he created with just two of the black letters bolster his hope. If I can find more letters before I reach Binah I might have a chance.

  He starts to climb the stairs when a loud knock on the front door makes him jump. Who can it be at this hour? He opens the door and faces Detective Inspector Long who stands beside a man Satori does not recognise.

  ‘It’s late,’ he protests. ‘Come back in the morning.’

  ‘Steve Michaels, I’m arresting you on suspicion of murder. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand your rights as they have been read to you?’

  ‘Murder? Who?’ Satori asks.

  ‘I think it best we discuss the details at the station don’t you, Sir? We have a car waiting.’

  ‘I should tell Mum.’

  ‘Let her sleep, Mr Michaels. You can phone her from the station in the morning.’

  Chapter 36

  Deya finishes applying her make-up. She chooses a pale lavender shade of lipstick to compliment her smoky eye shadow. She presses a tissue between her lips, brushes them with face powder and applies more lipstick. Blowing a kiss at the mirror, she marvels at the effect. Devastating.

  It worries her that Rob insisted on collecting her from the house. She wonders how possessive and obsessive Mike will be. When she told her father a few hours ago Mike seemed pleased.

  ‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘Rob seems like an okay bloke.’

  The doorbell rings. She rushes down the stairs but not before Mike reaches the door and invites her would-be boyfriend in for a chat. Rob’s smile never falters.

  ‘Freya’s a lovely girl, but she’s naïve. I need you to promise to look after her. I want her back by eleven o’clock.’

  ‘Of course.’ Rob nods. ‘We’re going to see a movie. A couple of new films are showing tonight.’

  ‘That sounds perfect. Freya hasn’t been to the cinema in ages.’

  Deya creeps into the room.

  Rob looks up and his smile widens. He stands up. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with a red shirt over the top. The red suits his colouring and brings out a hint of strawberry in what she had first thought was blonde hair. On his fingers he wears a couple of rings and his trousers are black denim. He has made an effort to look good for her.

  She struggles to stay still, anxious to leave the house. Should I grab his hand as we walk along the pathway or should I wait until we get out of sight of Mike before I touch Rob’s skin? Is he driving?

  ‘Should we go?’ she asks, never taking her eyes off Rob.

  ‘I’m glad your wife’s doing well, Sir. It was a pleasure to see you again.’ Rob extends his hand towards Mike.

  Mike shakes Rob’s hand. ‘Thank you. It’s good to have her home again. The headaches are terrible and the painkillers make her sleepy. But my god, it could have been worse. Thank you for taking care of her.’

  ‘Well it wasn’t me exactly.’ Rob looks embarrassed. ‘But you’re welcome. Maybe I could pop round and see her when she’s well enough for visitors.’

  ‘You’d be very welcome. I’m sure she’d really like that.’

  Rob walks around the sofa and chair and towards Deya. He smiles at her and raises his eyebrows as he passes.

  Mike gets up and hurries across the room, grabbing Deya’s hand. ‘Be good,’ he whispers in her ear.

  She nods and reaches for her coat. Rob lifts it from the hook and holds it open for her. She luxuriates in the touch of his breath on her neck as she slides her arms into the sleeves. Then she kisses her father on the cheek and waves goodbye.

  As she strides towards his car snow begins to fall. Rob starts the car an
d a track by Killing Joke punches the air between them. He reaches across and turns down the volume.

  ‘Would you prefer something else?’ he asks.

  ‘No. I like Killing Joke.’

  His eyes shine and a grin breaks across his face. He puts the car in gear and pulls away. Windscreen wipers whisper as they push aside snowflakes. Deya turns and waves out of the window at her father who watches them from the step. He frowns. She hopes he doesn’t worry too much.

  ‘Does he worry about you a lot?’ Rob asks.

  ‘Nah, only all the time,’ Deya says. She watches Rob’s face muscles draw upwards in yet another smile. She wonders if he’s always this happy or only with her. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘I was thinking the cinema, unless there’s somewhere you’d prefer to go.’

  ‘How about Club Midian?’

  ‘The night-club?’

  ‘Yeah. I haven’t been in ages,’ Deya says.

  ‘Has it reopened?’

  ‘Sure, it was only shut a couple of weekends.’

  ‘I don’t know whether I’m dressed up enough,’ Rob says.

  ‘You look great,’ Deya assures him.

  ‘And I have to get you home by eleven.’

  ‘Oh that’s just something he says. Don’t pay any attention.’

  ‘Freya.’

  ‘Uhuh,’ she answers.

  ‘I really like you. I don’t want to mess this up, and by the sound of it your dad really needs to know you’re safe at the moment. How about if I take you to the club next time it’s on?’

  ‘Well if you’d rather make my dad happy…’

  ‘That’s not fair and you know it. Say sorry now.’ Rob pouts playfully.

  ‘Or what?’ Deya’s skin tingles.

  ‘Or I’ll pull over and…tickle you until you scream that you’re sorry.’

  Deya laughs. She is tempted by his threat. It takes all her strength of will to say sorry.

  ‘You’re forgiven.’ Rob laughs.

  Freya sticks her tongue out at him. ‘What film?’

  ‘Romance or horror?’ he asks.

  ‘Horror.’

  ‘That’s my girl!’

  In the darkness of the cinema she presses her shoulder against his body. Compared to what Freya and her friends have been through over the past six weeks very little would be shocking and the violence on the screen soothes her. Deya was born of violence and, since Freya left, the world seems unnervingly tame and quiet. She wonders if her sister is enjoying her adventures in the other world.

  Deya tips her head back and looks at Rob’s throat and jaw. The top of his neck glows soft pink as if the skin grew sensitive under his razor. She traces the line of it with her fingertip. He shudders and looks down at her. His chin and neck merge. She smiles and breathes into his face.

  ‘God, you’re beautiful,’ he whispers.

  She grins and pokes her tongue out at him. His hands cradle her shoulders. He leans his body forwards and wraps his lips around her tongue. Everything dissolves around them. Her tongue thirsts for a knowledge it is determined to find in his mouth while his tongue caresses hers. She closes her eyes and her senses revolve around him. Her ears strain to hear the pounding of his heart, her nostrils soak in his scent. She tastes him and feels the warmth of him, knowing she could happily drown in him.

  The kiss over, Rob’s body straightens and his eyes focus on the screen.

  Deya wants to ask him to leave with her. Take her to his house, his flat, his room, his car…anywhere. Somewhere they can be alone. Something stops her. She feels the request would disappoint him. They would leave, of course, and she would have him for a few hours. Afterwards though, when the panting and sweating was over, she might never see him again. She straightens herself beside him. Holding his hand in hers, she leans on his shoulder and watches the screen. Images blur. All she sees is his body. She swallows hard and wonders whether life is always this complicated.

  As they leave the cinema, hand in hand, he seems to glow.

  ‘Can I see you again?’ He looks nervous. No smile brightens his face.

  Every moment she doesn’t answer his eyes close a little. His open face becomes a frown. Does he really not sense how I feel? Fascinated she watches his discomfort.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Maybe we should have gone somewhere else. I thought you were having fun. Next time I’ll take you to Club Midian, I promise.’

  ‘Club Midian isn’t on tomorrow night,’ she replies.

  His relief is palpable. She smells the change in atmosphere.

  ‘Tomorrow?’ he asks.

  ‘If you’re free.’

  ‘Of course. I can pick you up at eight. Where do you want to go? Your choice.’

  Chapter 37

  ‘I want a lawyer,’ Satori says as he is pushed into a plastic chair.

  Two police officers settle themselves on the other side of the table. The larger one has to breathe in to fit in the cramped space.

  ‘We just need to chat to you. Let you convince us it’s all a misunderstanding.’

  Satori looks at the pair. One scowls, the other wears an open and happy expression. Satori matches the scowl and sits in silence.

  ‘Do you really want to spend the night in a police cell while you wait for a lawyer to be available?’

  Satori nods.

  ‘What are you hiding?’

  Satori frowns in silence.

  ‘Every time you refuse to answer just makes us more convinced you did it.’

  Satori looks at his nails and thinks of Donna alone in that world. ‘Lock me up and call a lawyer. You won’t get your answers tonight,’ he says. He is amazed at how calm he feels. Arrested on suspicion of murder, whose murder? It feels unreal, a distraction from what he should be doing. I guess when you’ve battled demons and infuriated a god there’s little left to frighten you.

  ‘Very well. Process him. Stick him in that cell with the homo-psycho. That should soften him a little.’ They stare at him and when he gives them no reaction they sigh and hoist themselves from their seats.

  ‘Interview terminated at three-seventeen a.m.’

  ‘You really think you’re a hard bastard don’t you? I can’t wait to tear you apart in the morning, you little fuck.’ D.I. Long growls.

  Satori follows the tug of his arm and walks silently to the cells. The room they push him into is empty. No “homo-psycho” waits as promised. He crosses to the cot and lies upon it.

  “Hod,’ he whispers.

  Donna lies at his feet.

  ‘You did it,’ she says.

  He nods. ‘Have I been gone long?’

  ‘Gone?’ she asks.

  He shakes his head. ‘Let’s get you up those steps. Look Donna, I’m going to try to carry you on my shoulder. Tell me if it’s too painful, okay.’

  She nods and he picks up her fragile frame, hoisting her over his right shoulder.

  She gasps.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asks.

  ‘Fine,’ she croaks. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  The steps are as narrow as he feared. He leans forward to cheat gravity. Although Donna’s legs drag against the jutting rock, she never complains.

  Climbing the steps, watching Donna’s limbs bruise and tear seems to take hours, but the sun does not change position. He is exhausted. Muscles in his shoulder compact upon each other in a burning, tearing pain and the palms of his hands are slippery with blood. He hopes this is the right way. He will not be able to get Donna back down these steps, not without falling.

  The ground widens above them and his hand touches grass. He strains his muscles and pushes his face high enough to see the way ahead. Grass rolls forwards for a hundred meters and then nothing. There is no horizon simply a void. His head swims as he clutches at grass and leans forward, desperate not to fall. Donna coughs and he realises the weight of his body is crushing her stomach. He leans back a little and lets her fall gently to the ground then forces his exhausted legs up the remaining ste
ps and lies beside her on the grass.

  Donna’s body is too close to the cliff edge. He should go to her. Move her away. He tries but he has no strength left. His eyes beg her to move, but her own eyes are closed. His head hits the floor and he falls asleep.

  ***

  ‘Mr Michaels, Mr Michaels…wake up. Oh for fuck’s sake.’

  Satori’s teeth knock against each other. His body is being shaken. He opens his eyes. A policeman towers above him.

  ‘I’m okay,’ Satori manages to say.

  ‘Your lawyer’s arrived. Follow me.’

  Satori follows him along a narrow corridor and through heavy doors into an interview room. A young woman with short brown hair waits for him.

  ‘Good morning Mr Michaels,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry I got here so late. It was a busy night last night.’

  ‘Sure, yes, it’s okay.’ Satori yawns and rubs his eyes.

  ‘I’m Ms Wilson, your lawyer. Do you need anything? A drink, a cigarette?’

  ‘A black coffee and a glass of water would be great thanks…black no sugar.’

  The woman nods at the man by the door and he leaves. Satori hears the door lock behind him and sits opposite the woman. The table between them is similar to the one from before, but there is no tape recorder. A large notepad is open in front of Ms Wilson. She twists a pen between her fingers as she watches him.

  ‘Do you understand why they’ve arrested you, Mr Michaels?’

  ‘They said murder, but I don’t know who they think I killed.’

  ‘Sarah, Sarah Brown.’

  ‘Star.’ Satori eyes moisten.

  ‘Her body was discovered yesterday in the Cairngorms. It had been there for at least a week. Some things, they believe belong to you, were found with her.’

  ‘Star…’ He nods.

  ‘Was she your girlfriend, Mr Michaels?’

  ‘I loved her.’ His voice cracks and tears spill over his lashes.

  The door clicks and Ms Wilson holds her finger to her lips to silence Satori. The police officer brings a cup of coffee and a plastic cup of water and places them on the table.

  ‘Thank you,’ Ms Wilson says.

  The officer frowns at Satori and hovers there for a moment.