Starblood Trilogy

by Carmilla Voiez

  ‘We’ll need more time,’ Ms Wilson tells him. ‘I’ll let you know when we’re finished.’

  The policeman nods and leaves the room. Once again Satori hears the thud of the door locking.

  ‘I think you need to tell me what happened,’ Ms Wilson says as Satori downs his water.

  ‘Star ran away after Raven died…’

  ‘That was Miss Sanders?’

  ‘I think so, yes. I only ever knew her as Raven,’ Satori says.

  ‘Did you follow…Star?’

  ‘Yes. I never believed she did it…killed Raven…I wanted to see her. Convince her to come back.’

  ‘Did you find her?’ Ms Wilson asks.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what then…what happened, Mr Michaels?’

  ‘She killed herself,’ he answers.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She was pregnant.’ Satori stares at his palms. He remembers how Star’s blood glistened on his skin, how difficult it had been to clean away and the sense that by removing her blood from his hands he betrayed her memory.

  ‘Did you bury her, Mr Michaels?’

  He stares at the lawyer. His stomach shifts as everything in the room becomes clearer. Footsteps echo outside the door. Ms Wilson’s nostrils expand and contract as she breathes.

  ‘Did you bury her?’ she asks again.

  He nods.

  She presses the pen nib against the paper and makes a mark. ‘Why didn’t you call the police?’

  ‘It was what she would have wanted.’

  ‘And now you find yourself charged with her murder.’

  ‘Yes,’ Satori answers.

  ‘I am guessing she wouldn’t have wanted that.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he says, a smile plays in the corners of his mouth. ‘Perhaps?’

  ‘She didn’t love you?’ Ms Wilson asks.

  ‘I think she did.’

  ‘Was it your baby?’ she asks.

  He looks away. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay, Mr Michaels.’ Ms Wilson sighs. ‘I think this might be a difficult case to defend. You will need to tell me everything. Every detail, however small and insignificant it might seem, might make all the difference. The object is to get you out of here as quickly as possible while admitting to nothing.’

  ‘I slept with her friend. They tell me she killed her. She ran away and then she killed herself,’ Satori says.

  ‘Why did you bury her?’

  ‘I believe that when someone dies their body needs to go into the ground as quickly as possible. I couldn’t do anything else.’

  ‘Did you bury your possessions with her?’ Ms Wilson asks.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’ she asks.

  ‘I thought she might need them for the journey ahead,’ he answers.

  ‘Journey?’

  ‘The afterlife,’ he says.

  Ms Wilson nods and scribbles on the notepad. ‘They tell me she was stabbed.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where’s the knife?’ she asks.

  ‘I buried it with her,’ he answers.

  ‘They can’t find it.’

  ‘It’s there.’

  ‘They say it isn’t. Are you certain you don’t have it? It’s important,’ Ms Wilson says.

  ‘I’m certain. I left it in her grave.’

  ‘Okay, Mr Michaels. They are going to interview you this morning. I’ll be with you. Only answer their questions when I prompt you to do so. I’ll nod. Only talk about your reasons for burying her. You can also tell them you had an affair with her friend. I don’t think they’ll release you until after the preliminary hearing. I’ll push for that to happen as soon as possible. I’ll also push for them to release you into your mother’s custody.’

  ‘Do you think they will?’

  ‘No.’

  Satori looks at his coffee. ‘That’s okay. It isn’t so bad here.’

  ‘You won’t be here for long. If you’re kept in custody after the hearing you’ll be transferred,’ she says.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Prison. We’ll try to avoid that. However, I think they might have enough evidence to hold you. On a murder charge being held in custody is usual.’

  ‘Can you let my mum know what’s happening?’ Satori asks.

  ‘Of course. I’ll phone her after the interview,’ Ms Wilson answers.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Are you ready?’ Ms Wilson closes her notebook and stares at Satori. Her eyes convey no emotion.

  ‘Yes, I think so.’

  ‘Remember, only answer questions when I advise you to do so. If I shake my head say “No comment.”’

  Satori nods. His throat tightens. ‘Can I just finish my coffee?’

  Chapter 38

  Sarah studies the toad bone inside her mind. What is it for? It is important, she knows that much. She turns it over and over. What does it do? If only Satori was here I could ask him. She places the bone in the middle of the chamber and tells her mind to work on the problem while she plans her escape.

  She listens to the signals of her nervous system. Her ankles and wrists are still fused together. She imagines the bones warming, softening and separating. The heat reminds her of the salamander that kept her company in the mountains. Again regret fills her. I should not have treated Satori so badly when he came for me. Her chest feels heavy and the warmth disappears. She shivers. She wishes she could tell him what he means to her, how much she still yearns for his company and his advice. How alone she feels without his smile.

  It’s been too long. If he was coming for me he would be here by now. Maybe he tried and failed? Perhaps he is dead? She sends her thoughts out and tries to touch his mind. He feels far away, but she is certain he is there, somewhere, alive.

  Sarah smiles and returns to her attention to her wrists and ankles with renewed strength and determination. She warms them with her thoughts, but the bones do not soften. The joints are locked together some other way. She tries to part her legs and arms testing whether her skin strains against the effort. They do not move at all. She is certain they are joined together at the bones. She also believes she can free herself. She just needs to find the right answer. Satori says there is always an answer.

  The riddles I must solve: toad bone, freeing my ankles and wrists…and lust…if I could stop craving Lilith’s touch I would feel in control. She imagines the demon’s touch on her thighs and feels a fluttering deep inside her belly. She presses down, pushing the butterfly from her core. Its wings brush against her cervix. She tells it to leave. Squeezing and tightening all her pelvic muscles, she contracts that space inside her. She feels the butterfly’s distress. Its wings beat faster. Sweat trickles down her breasts. She tries again. One more push and she hears the soft beats of the butterfly’s wings beyond the confines of her body. Testing herself, she imagines Lilith’s touch again. Nothing stirs within her. She considers imagining Satori’s touch but does not dare. She is not ready to feel something or feel nothing for him.

  Chapter 39

  Deya doesn’t know why she suggested the woods, or why Rob looked at her strangely when she did. To his credit he didn’t complain or try to talk her out of it. Snow is settling on the ground and I want to take him to the woods, why? Staring into her wardrobe with no idea of what to wear, she reconsiders - a bar, his flat, anywhere sane. She picks up her mobile and phones him.

  ‘Is it okay if I change my mind?’ Deya asks.

  ‘You don’t want to go out tonight?’

  Rob’s voice thrills her.

  ‘Not to the woods. Let’s go to a bar instead.’

  He sighs. ‘Yes, a bar. I have to admit I wasn’t overly excited about the woods idea. In the summer it would be romantic, but it’s freezing outside.’

  ‘You’re okay then?’ Deya asks.

  ‘Of course. I’ll be over in about twenty minutes.’

  ‘Make it thirty. I still haven’t decided what to wear.’

  She pulls a long black velv
et skirt and a black cashmere sweater from her wardrobe. As she holds the top beneath her face it tickles her skin. Purple and black ribbons hang from the top of her mirror. She wonders whether to tie them into her hair but decides there isn’t enough time. Instead she applies her makeup and starts to dress. The doorbell rings before she slips into her pointed boots. Her heart beats faster. He’s here.

  Her brother’s door opens. His naked feet pad down the stairs. Voices murmur in the hallway. Deya hurries out of her room and reaches the top of the stairs just as Rob passes the bottom. He looks up at her and smiles. He rests his hand on the finial and waits.

  ‘Freya won’t be long.’ Ivan tells Rob.

  ‘She’s already here,’ Rob replies, looking at Deya.

  ‘Hi, Sis,’ Ivan calls, sticking his head over the bannister.

  Freya smiles at both of them. She clings to the handrail and descends.

  ‘I won’t be too late,’ she tells her brother.

  ‘Have fun,’ he answers. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

  She nods and runs her fingers across the back of Rob’s hand, which lingers on the finial. He shivers and lowers his eyes to stare at his hand. Freya grabs her coat and slides her arms into the sleeves. She studies the back of Rob’s head. His blonde hair curls as it reaches his neck. As she fastens her buttons he comes out of his trance and turns around. His eyes are hooded by pale lashes. Ivan glances at Rob then looks meaningfully at Deya, shaking his head. She grins and opens the front door.

  The path is slippery and she slides on a patch of ice. Rob grabs her and catches her fall.

  ‘Thank you. Maybe I should have worn different shoes.’

  Rob nods and smiles. ‘Goth girls, eh?’

  She punches his arm and laughs. ‘They’re flat, aren’t they? Look, Rob, shall we walk somewhere so you can drink?’

  ‘I’m on duty tomorrow so I’ll stay sober. Anyway, I’d have to carry you. You can’t walk anywhere safely.’

  ‘Then I’ll skate,’ she says lifting her arms above her head.

  He laughs and touches her waist. She spins on the snow to face him and lowers her hands to his cold face. He swallows hard and looks towards the house.

  ‘Okay,’ she says. ‘Take the car if you prefer.’

  The bar is quiet. They sit on a leather sofa near the fire. Deya sips her Bacardi and Coke while Rob stares at his Irn Bru. Silence chills the air between them. She knows he wants to say something, but she has no idea what.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asks.

  ‘I’ve just heard that I’ve got a promotion I wanted.’

  ‘That’s great news,’ Deya shrieks. ‘We should be celebrating.’

  ‘Well, perhaps not.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It means a transfer.’

  Deya puts her drink on the table. ‘Where?’

  ‘York.’ He frowns and takes a sip of his drink. Ice clinks against his teeth.

  Her head spins. York? She doesn’t even know where that is. North somewhere. ‘When?’

  ‘I haven’t accepted it yet. I guess I wanted to talk to you first.’

  She stares at him. ‘We’ve only had two dates, Rob. You can’t turn this down for me.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. When will you leave?’ she asks.

  ‘In eight weeks.’

  Eight weeks. ‘I’ll miss you.’

  ‘I know it’s all a bit sudden, but I really like you Freya. You’re odd.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I mean it as a compliment. I never know what to expect next with you. You seem so free and childlike,’ he says.

  Deya blushes and picks up her drink again. ‘I like you too. It’s too soon to know if it would work, but this feels like the first healthy relationship I’ve ever had.’

  ‘How many unhealthy ones have you had?’

  ‘Two, but I was different then. That was another me.’

  ‘Tell me,’ he says.

  ‘No, I’d rather not.’ She lowers her eyes. A stain on the table absorbs her attention.

  ‘So what do we do now? Eight weeks is a long time. I want to keep seeing you, but I’m worried I might miss you even more if I do,’ he says.

  Deya looks up from the table. Rob’s eyes shine with moisture.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she whispers. ‘I think…maybe we should think about it.’

  ‘You could come with me,’ Rob says.

  Deya laughs.

  Rob frowns and takes a gulp of his drink. He wheezes and holds his nose. ‘Ouch,’ he says.

  ‘I’m sorry, but Rob, we’ve known each other for two days. I have family here, a job.’

  Rob nods. ‘Of course, you’re right.’

  ‘Look maybe you should take me home,’ she says.

  ‘Yes, yes, of course.’

  ‘Your home.’

  ‘My home? Why?’

  ‘To help us decide how we should spend the next eight weeks.’ Deya smiles.

  Rob grins. ‘That’s probably the most sensible suggestion I’ve ever heard.’

  They leave their unfinished drinks on the table and Rob helps Deya into her coat. He licks his lips. They glisten with moisture and she wants to kiss them. Her mind leaps forward to the moment that they tumble through his front door.

  The journey towards his house feels like a dream. Sitting in the car it feels they are already separated by hundreds of miles. She longs to touch his skin. Her body misses him, like a dream her mind struggles to regain. As the car pulls into a car park she releases her seat belt and fumbles with the door handle. Her heart pounds as she steps from his car. He stands beside her, closing the passenger door and sealing the car with a double bleep. The smell of his cologne and a base note of musk enchant her. She tugs at his hand like an eager child. He laughs nervously.

  As the front door opens she falls against an interior wall, dragging him with her. Their bodies press together and she covers his mouth with hers. Her head swims. Her legs shake.

  ‘You are beautiful,’ he whispers.

  She silences him with a kiss. Her heart aches. Words remind her that he will not be here forever. Kisses and the heat of his body salve that ache. She wonders whether she will follow him to York. Her stomach tells her she has no choice and she presses harder against him.

  Deya wriggles out of her coat and lets it fall to the floor. Rob stoops to pick it up, but she drags him back to her. There can be no distance between them. It hurts when his face moves from hers. In the tangle of an awkward waltz they inch along the hallway. He steps on her toes and apologises, but she cannot feel the pain above the burning of her body.

  She unbuttons Rob’s coat and it falls near hers. They kiss as they fumble with each other’s clothing. Like Hansel and Gretel they leave a trail so they might find their way back. By the time they reach the bedroom only their underwear remains.

  A streetlight peeks through the window and lights their way, making their bodies glisten. His white bed looms in the darkness. She stands back so she can see him. He is beautiful. He presses himself against her again and they fall together onto cotton. His fingers unhook her bra as she pulls his shorts over his hips.

  The thought that this is her first time flits through Deya’s brain. Perhaps it is? I cannot remember any man before him. He is everything. His smell, the taste of his tongue and the damp warmth of his body are her universe.

  His lips move down her body. He kisses her breasts, her stomach and the black lace of her underwear. She lifts her pelvis and his fingers slide between the lace and her buttocks. He tugs her panties over her ass, her thighs, her calves and her ankles. She feels the feather light touch of his hands against her skin and shivers.

  His nose rubs against her hardening clit. His tongue pushes inside her. She gasps. Her body rises on the crest of a wave and she becomes the sea. She tangles her fingers in his hair and closes her eyes. Lost between joy and regret, her heart pounds a tribal beat and her moans provide the melody. When Rob’s l
ips rejoin hers Deya tastes the ocean. She reaches for his cock. Silken skin, as hard as marble, moves against her palm. She hooks her ankles over his shoulders. His eyes close and he groans softly as her flesh opens to him.

  He moves slowly as if afraid of hurting her. Centimetre by centimetre he pours himself into her body. She feels herself expand around him. She is whole. He completes her. Thrusting her tongue inside his mouth, she completes their circle. They fuck and she has never known joy more exquisite.

  Every nerve ending reaches out to touch him. Each breath Deya takes pulls him deeper inside her. Her mind knows only the movement of their conjoined bodies. When he groans, withdraws and settles beside her, stroking her hair and staring at her face, she feels warm and content. The words I love you, feel like a fish bone stuck in her throat. With some discomfort she swallows them.

  They lie in silence, watching each other. He strokes her hair and cheek while she rests her palm on his chest. Again the words wrestle in her mind. I love you. No, it’s too soon. How can I? I don’t want to lose you. Her eyes moisten and she breathes deeply. No, I will not cry.

  ‘I don’t want to lose you.’

  Did he say that, or did she simply imagine his lips moving? Should I reply?

  ‘Did you…’ Deya cannot finish the sentence. It hurts to speak. Her chest aches. She has never felt so lonely.

  Rob’s brow creases into a frown. ‘What are you thinking?’

  Tell him. No don’t tell him. ‘Nothing,’ she says stretching her limbs. ‘That was wonderful.’

  Rob nods. His hand leaves her hair and he lies on his back staring at the ceiling. ‘I guess I’d better take you home.’

  Tell him! ‘I don’t want to lose you either,’ she whispers.

  Rob kisses Deya’s forehead and her mouth. Joy returns to his face, transforming his features, making him glow. ‘Should I turn down the promotion?’

  ‘I can’t answer that,’ she says. ‘It must be your decision to stay or to leave.’

  ‘Can I see you tomorrow? We can talk about it then,’ he says.

  She nods. ‘I’d like that.’

  Chapter 40

  Identical grey walls, grey floor, grey table and grey faces, Satori feels for a moment as if he’s re-entered the room he just left by way of a Penrose staircase. As he lowers himself onto the seat he half expects it to be warm. The chill of the plastic discomforts him. When he spots a tape recorder bolted to the table, he realises that this is a different room. His stomach settles and he relaxes a little.