‘Does that bother you?’
‘Should it?’
‘I don’t know. It bothered him.’
‘Satori?’
‘Yes. He couldn’t understand it. It was as though my sadness was a threat to him. It’s the one constant in my life. I don’t know how to stop.’
‘You experience joy sometimes.’
‘Yes and those moments are exquisite, but fleeting. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Of course.’
‘You’re sad too, aren’t you?’
Ivan nods.
‘Why?’
‘Why am I sad?’ Ivan cocks his head to one side and inhales. ‘Wow! You’re all about the big questions tonight, aren’t you?’
‘I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer.’
‘To be honest, I’m not sure I can answer. Not accurately anyway. I can tell you why I think I am sad, events that have changed and tainted me, but maybe it’s deeper than that. Maybe it’s part of the human condition. Perhaps we are all sad, but some people hide it better than others. Some people reject sadness in almost pathological ways. They cannot stand to be around it or feel it inside them. We are not those people. We can experience the spectrum of emotions and find value in them all.’
‘Yes,’ she whispers. ‘Yes, exactly. Hold me.’ She tilts her face and brushes her lips across his. The whisky tastes peaty on his mouth.
He takes both drinks and puts them on the table beside him then leans across and envelopes her body in his arms. His whiskers scratch her chin. The feeling isn’t painful; it awakens her senses and she feels her body crush against his until there is no space between them. She swings her legs up and across his lap, clinging to his torso with all her strength. Their lips bruise each other as they kiss. She explores his mouth with her tongue and tastes freedom: freedom to be herself, to never have to justify any thought or emotion.
Chapter 35
Boy and man approach the high iron gates. Satori pushes against the gates grunting, but they do not move an inch.
‘We’ll have to climb the wall?’ Satori says.
Mark nods. He looks between the bars of the gate at the long driveway and Gothic mansion beyond. ‘Who owns this place?’
‘An old friend. He’s dead, but I don’t think it’s been sold yet. We should be okay to stay here for a while.’
‘Should?’
‘There are no guarantees in this life, kid.’
‘Please, don’t call me kid. Everyone calls me kid. Call me Mark.’
‘Sorry, Mark, of course, no problem. I think there are some trees around the side, in that garden, back there. That could be the easiest place to climb over and the drop shouldn’t be too challenging on the other side.’
‘Go through the neighbour’s garden?’
‘Well, their wall is a lot lower at the front.’
‘Do you know them?’
‘No.’ Satori snorts and shrugs.
Mark smiles and makes a sweeping movement with his right arm. ‘Lead the way.’
Satori nods and grins at Mark. ‘You feeling strong enough for this?’
‘Never better.’
‘How’s your head?’
‘Ahh, it was just a scratch. Your mum hits like a girl.’
Satori laughs. ‘When we get inside you’re going to tell me what all that was about.’
‘I would if I could. I’ll tell you what I do know though, okay?’
‘Deal.’
Satori and Mark scramble up the side of the neighbour’s wall. As they drop to the other side they hear barking. Three large Rottweilers race towards them. Their jaws hang open and saliva soaks their chins and drips onto the claws of their huge front paws. About a metre away the dogs stop, eyeing the intruders suspiciously and growling.
Satori backs away.
‘It’s okay.’ Mark’s voice is low and calm. He bends his knees slightly and crouches down, putting his arms out at either side of his body. ‘You’re not going to hurt us.’ He looks at each dog in turn. The dog at the centre growls louder. The others quieten down.
Mark turns and makes eye contact with the middle dog. ‘You have nothing to fear from us. We’re just passing through. Do you understand?’
The Rottweiler takes a step towards Mark.
‘Watch out,’ Satori urges.
Mark stays where he is. He continues to stare into the dog’s eyes.
The dog shakes its head and saliva sprays in every direction. Mark wipes some from his cheek and laughs. ‘Thanks.’
The dog takes another step forwards. Dog and boy are muzzle to muzzle. The Rottweiler’s nostrils expand and contract as it sniffs the intruder, trying to make sense of the situation.
Mark moves his right hand towards the dog and it growls again.
‘Mark!’ Satori warns.
‘It’s okay. Isn’t it, girl? You don’t want to hurt me.’
The growling softens and Mark continues to move his hand towards the dog. The bitch breaks eye contact to look at his hand. Then she looks back at the boy’s face. She stands like a statue in silence then cocks her head as if trying to make a decision. Mark keeps moving his hand until he is able to stroke the crown of her head. She growls the moment he touches her.
‘That’s good isn’t it?’ Mark says.
She looks at his feet and stops growling.
‘Good girl,’ Mark tells her. ‘We’re going to climb the wall over there. Neither of us is going to hurt you and we won’t stay in your territory longer than we have to.’
Mark stands and turns to face Satori who is staring open mouthed. ‘How?’
‘I have a way with dogs,’ Mark answers.
Satori nods.
‘Shall we?’
Satori stares at the dogs. ‘Are you sure it’s safe?’
Mark grins. ‘Nothing can be guaranteed, right?’
‘Right.’ Satori grins back. ‘Okay. Let’s do this.’
They cross the well-kept lawn. The three Rottweilers follow on their heels. They keep a measured pace and stick to the edges of the garden and the shadows of the wall. A conifer stands about forty metres ahead.
‘There?’ Mark asks.
‘Looks likely.’ Satori moves to overtake Mark, but growls of warning make him change his mind and he continues to match the boy’s pace.
When they reach the wall, Satori tests the branches of the tree. They are supple and bend when he pulls them, but should hold Mark’s weight if not his own. He looks at the wall, testing for hand and foot holds. He remembers scaling the sheer wall of the obsidian mountain in Yesod and feels this should be much easier. Only a twelve foot drop onto grass if he fails.
‘Stand clear. I’m going to work my way up using these cracks in the surface. I’ll check what the drop on the other side looks like, okay?’ Satori says.
Mark shrugs. ‘Sure, but you know I can scale that tree in five seconds flat, don’t you, old man.’
Satori scoffs. ‘Go on then…kid.’
‘Touché. See you on the other side.’
‘Wait. Check the drop before doing anything stupid.’
‘No problem.’
Mark pulls himself through itchy branches. They scratch his face and hands as he pushes past them to the top of the wall. He twists his body to sit on the apex, the king of the proverbial castle, and swings his legs like a little boy. He smiles down at Satori.
‘What’s it like on the other side?’
‘Drop and roll.’ Mark launches himself with a grunt. He bounces on the earth, stands up and brushes his sleeves. Mark turns around as Satori hits the ground behind him with a thump.
‘You okay?’ Satori asks, standing up.
‘Sure.’
‘We’ll try and get in through the back. If not there’s always his summer house.’ Satori points to the white building to their right.
Satori walks ahead and Mark strides behind him through the plants. Many have browned, perhaps temporarily with winter. The lawn they cross is crushed in places by crue
l weather. Around the summer house and trees the grass stands as high as Mark’s waist.
‘How long has it been empty?’ Mark asks.
‘Four years,’ Satori answers.
‘What happened to the owner?’
‘Official version or truth?’
‘Huh?’
‘He was murdered by a demon,’ Satori replies.
Mark stops walking and looks towards the large house. The windows are dark. He wonders what waits beyond their glass panes. ‘Which demon?’
Satori pauses and turns to look at Mark. ‘So you know they exist?’
Mark shrugs. ‘I dunno. Your mum, she called me a demon. I reckon her definition might be different to yours.’
Satori nods and walks towards the house.
Mark hurries to catch up. ‘Which demon do you think murdered this guy?’
‘Lilith.’
‘Nobody important then?’ Mark laughs, nervously.
‘I’m impressed. You’re what thirteen…fourteen and you know your demons.’
‘I bet you did too.’
‘I guess you’re right. So do you practise?’
‘Huh?’
‘Magic.’
‘Not really. I’ve just picked up a thing or two along the way.’
‘No doubt.’ Satori shudders. His body feels cold and his hands numb as if his heart isn’t beating strongly enough to provide adequate circulation. He forces himself to look forwards rather than turn to face the strange boy. Too much has changed in the last hour of his life and he cannot make sense of it. His mum, the woman who grounds him, has kept secrets from him for how long? All his life, perhaps. The people in white, Sith, why didn’t she tell me?
He thinks back to when he turned thirteen, the year his father suddenly stopped sending him gifts. A memory lurks in the corner of his mind, something his mother said. He tugs at the memory, but it just makes him dizzy. There is too much to think about. Later he’ll examine the memory, in his dreams.
They reach the edge of the house and follow the wall around the rear. Satori gasps and Mark sprints the last few steps and peers around Satori’s shoulder. ‘Oh.’
‘It looks as though there could be squatters here,’ Satori says.
A panel of the French doors has been smashed and the left side door forced open. Glass covers the entrance to the kitchen. Across white tiled walls, words and drawings have been scribbled in black and red paint. Mounds of debris are scattered across the floor and surfaces: cigarette butts, bottles, takeaway boxes, tissues and blankets.
Satori steps sideways through the open door.
Mark follows, looking around the room. There is no one here, but the wreckage defies all logic. Why would someone want to do this?
‘Do you think they’re still in the house?’ Mark asks.
‘Probably,’ Satori answers.
The two of them cross the kitchen and open the door to the hallway. Mark shakes his head. The hallway looks untouched other than by dust. There aren’t even any footsteps on the dust-powdered floor.
‘What?’ Mark asks.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Why did they stop in the kitchen?’
‘Maybe something scared them.’
‘Lilith?’ Mark asks.
‘No,’ Satori answers. ‘Something else.’
Chapter 36
‘Fuck me,’ Star breathes into Ivan’s ear.
He pulls her top over her breasts and strokes the soft pale skin of her stomach then returns to their kiss. She breathes with his lungs as their hearts beat together. She strokes his cheek and he purrs into her mouth. It makes her smile and she moves away just a few inches to look into his cool blue eyes. There is no judgement in those clear eyes, no expectation.
He lifts her arms and slides her t-shirt over her head.
Her breasts swell beneath the black lace of her bra. He traces her cleavage with his finger tip. She shivers. Every cell in her body is alive with excitement and anticipation.
‘I love you,’ she tells him.
‘I know,’ he answers.
Her ears strain to hear him declare his love for her. He does love her. She is sure of it. He worships every inch of her body and will spend hours kissing and caressing her even after sex, but never has he uttered those words. She wonders why she wants to hear them so desperately. If he told her he loved her it would be like telling her he wanted, no needed, part or all of her for him and him alone. It would be like sealing a contract with his declaration. It would mean he wanted more than she could give him. So why does she want to hear him say it? Why is it important? Is this simply another hangover from her lack of paternal approval and affection, or is it more than that? She wishes there was someone she could ask.
Ivan flicks her nipples with his thumb and index finger and Star’s mind switches back to thoughts of burning desire. Her bra feels too tight as her breasts swell to his touch and she feels breathless. She wants to strip them both, hold his naked body against her skin and sit on his lap and feel his penis strain upwards to meet her lips. The urge to rush, to be penetrated and feel whole again, makes her body shake, but she pushes the feeling aside. She wants to enjoy each moment with him. Satori is not coming home. They do not need to rush their play.
Ivan kisses her throat and Star moans. She strokes and tugs his hair. Her hands leave his hair to stroke his face, throat and finally his warm, silky, hairless chest. She grabs his top and pulls it off him. Pressing her lace covered chest against his naked one, she clings to him. Her arms encircle his powerful yet gentle shoulders as they kiss, lick and bite each other’s skin. At last he frees her of her bra and her hard nipples reach out to him. She crushes her breasts against the muscles of his chest. The words “I love you” rise in her again but she swallows them. What does it matter anyway?
‘Ivan.’ His name feels like a prayer in her mouth.
He kisses her breasts, cupping both with his hands to push them towards his mouth. She moans again and feels wet between her thighs. Her underwear feels like a prison from which she needs to be free. She pulls away and tears off her panties then returns to his lap.
As he sucks on her breasts his fingers rub her clit and labia, touching the outside of her vagina to gather moisture and massaging it over the rest of her swollen sex. She gasps at his insistent touch and unzips his jeans, pushes her hand inside and pulls his hard cock between the cold teeth of his zip fly.
His fingers continue to work her clit as she pushes herself down on his cock. He fills her. She rises and falls with her steady heartbeat. Her hair bounces as she moves and curls obscure her vision, but sight has become the least important of her senses. She can feel, taste, hear and smell him. He needs her as much as she needs him. When he is deep inside her they are both complete.
Chapter 37
Satori steps into the hallway, his footprints marking the dust like virgin snow. He looks around at the dark wood panelling, the grand staircase and dramatic portraits. It’s hard to see Paul in the crushing décor. It looks like an old maid’s house, not the abode of a vibrant magician and lover. He can more easily imagine Miss Haversham descending the staircase in her flaming wedding gown.
He feels Mark move behind him, forming new footprints in the dust.
‘Wow!’ the boy exclaims.
‘I know, huh.’
Satori shakes his head to clear the fog-like dust motes in his eyes. He points to a door. ‘That was always my favourite room. Paul’s library. Star was there once.’
‘Star?’ Mark asks.
‘Yes. Star. She was my world.’ Satori sighs. His face softens and he smiles.
‘Where is she?’
‘Huh?’ Satori steps towards the room.
Mark grabs Satori’s shoulder. ‘Star, where is she?’
Satori turns to look at the boy. His blood freezes. Who are you? Studying those green eyes and that soft mouth, his desire thaws him. He tries to shake the thoughts from his head, lust and suspicion. Mark’s presence discomforts him. �
��Do you know, Star?’ Do I know you?
Mark looks away at the door. ‘Shall we go and see if it’s been damaged?’ He walks towards the library door.
Satori follows. His eyes bore into the back of the teenager’s head.
The library is untouched. Not even dust has marred its beauty. Other than the cold grate it is exactly how Satori remembers it. He can see Star touching the spines of Paul’s paperbacks. ‘Sit down.’
Mark does as he is told and settles himself in one of the two leather arm chairs. Satori sits on the one beside him.
Mark shivers. ‘Do you think we could light the fire?’
Satori stands up and grabs pre-cut blocks of wood from the box beside the fire place. He sets them in the grate and looks for a bin in the room. Spotting one beside Paul’s desk, he pulls a crumpled piece of paper from it. The paper is dry and lights easily. Satori drops it onto the logs and returns to the armchair.
‘Who are you?’ Satori asks.
‘My name is Mark. I came here looking for someone, for Star. But this place is crazy. People have been chasing me ever since I arrived: those people in white, and others whose faces are always obscured by shadows, and now some guy called Garlow and his gang of thugs. I don’t understand any of it, or why they all think I’m important.’
Satori’s mind struggles to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. He is certain he remembers the white robes from his distant past: an argument, his father calling Marian a witch and her laughing. What else can I remember? Dad hits Mum and she falls onto the sofa, still laughing. Her laughter echoes around the room. I creep towards them. I remember. My body is filled with energy: anger and fear.
Dad doesn’t see me. He’s too busy trying to stop Mum laughing. What did I do? I remember blood, so much blood. Dad staggers and falls, yes, onto the coffee table. Glass explodes beneath him. Red on white, his blood on Mum’s white dress. I hold her and she trembles in my arms. Mum?
Mum and I alone, she is crying. Then the room fills with people. A woman takes me from Mum. I fight. I bust the woman’s lip. Blood drips from her mouth. More red on white. I shake myself free and run to my room.
The next day the coffee table is gone. Mum makes me eggs. She smiles and tells me I was dreaming, but there’s a bruise on her cheek. I wasn’t dreaming, was I?
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