by Rach Elle
“I’m going to hop in the shower,” she purred. He watched as she stood on shaky legs and made her way to the bathroom. After the largest inhale of his life he managed to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the mattress. After steadying his feet on the laminate floor he stood and headed for his dresser. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants and slipped them on. He didn’t know if they were going to go for round two, but just in case he needed something that was easy to take off.
He turned around to see the large, framed picture of a yacht that hung over his bed. It complimented the nautical theme of his condo perfectly and gave an intriguing contrast to the desert landscape that he had lived in for the past thirteen years.
James had made it a point to forget his life before moving here and had become quite successful at it until recently. Nothing in his condo conjured memories or reasons to reminisce. It wasn’t until that unusual phone call he had received last night at the bar that old feelings had resurfaced. It forced him to leave the bar early and almost cost him his one night stand with Regina. Thankfully she showed up again the next night. The thing that really pissed him off; the asshole who’d called him and asked to meet him off strip was a no-show. He tried to shake off the memory. He couldn’t let it ruin tonight. Regina had been too perfect for that.
James focused his eyes and caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the yacht photo’s glass. The five o’clock shadow he purposely kept at all times had grown closer to eight o’clock. It was dangerously moving further from effortless ruggedness to dirty and un-showered. As soon as he could get into the bathroom he would have to fix that. He ran his hand through his dark brown, slightly gray hair, to try and give it volume. He stretched his arm upward and pulled the string on the ceiling fan. The blades began to circulate, creating a cool breeze against his bare chest and abdomen. He could feel the beads of sweat dissipating from every exposed muscle on his tight, lean body.
A small thud sounded outside his sliding glass door; as if something had shifted the small furniture that sat on his balcony. His head shot toward the sound. He was on the third floor; couldn’t be raccoons and a bird wouldn’t be large enough to make the noise. He cautiously walked toward the glass, trying to see what was on the other side, but his eyes couldn’t process shapes through the blend of dark shadows. He opened the door; only a little bit at first to see if anything would try to rush him; but nothing moved. After a moment of silence other than the distant sound of Regina’s shower, he opened the door further and stepped out onto the balcony.
“I thought you were going to meet me last night.” A dark, heavily accented voice spoke from the far corner. James reached his hand out to grab the door jamb, preparing to launch himself back into his condo and shut the door; but the voice was all too familiar. It was even more ominous coming from the shadows than it was on the other end of his cell phone.
“I should ask you the same thing.” James tried to sound confident, “But you didn’t show up.”
“I told you to come alone. You brought a friend with you.”
“False; there wasn’t anyone with me.”
“Oh, on the contrary; your little blonde friend was there. I saw her.”
Regina followed me? “I didn’t know; I didn’t ask her to come.”
“I am aware of this. That is why I am giving you another chance,” the voice drawled. James couldn’t quite place the accent. He assumed it was from somewhere in the Middle East. There was harshness to the words and an inflection at the end of his sentences that sounded more dangerous than inquisitive.
James slid the glass door closed in case Regina emerged from the bathroom. He hoped she would stay in there long enough to avoid getting mixed up in whatever may transpire out here on the balcony. He narrowed his eyes, “Another chance for what?”
“To obey me by your own will; I have a very important job for you.”
“Look man, I don’t want any trouble. I don’t know what you’re talking about and to be honest, I would like to keep it that way. Now if you don’t mind please get off my balcony and leave me alone.”
The dark figure stood instantly, his massive form much larger than James had anticipated. “I’m afraid you don’t understand,” the accent deepened, “I have ways of getting what I want that are much more involved than this conversation; and much more painful.”
James reached his hand for the door latch. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The figure warned. Clothing rustled and something crunched just before a large figure, even larger than the one before him swung down from the upstairs balcony and landed on James’ railing. It sat in a position that looked ready for pouncing and bore into him with eyes he couldn’t see through the dark.
“What do you want?” James tried not to stutter.
“Just as I said through the phone; I want Awilda Rose.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“Oh, yes you do.”
James let out an agitated sigh, “I have no idea where she is.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw the bathroom door open. Regina stepped out in nothing but a towel. “James?” She called. He hoped like hell she wouldn’t look for him out here.
“That seems to be the problem I’m running into as well; but you see James, I have come to the conclusion that if anyone can find her it’s you.”
“What makes you think that?” James’ heart pounded harder and louder.
“Because James,” the figure moved in closer, towering over him, “you’re her father.”
The bedroom light flipped, illuminating the man before him. James’ eyes widened and his body quivered as he stared into the face of a man with the body of a monster. Bat-like wings propped open; horns that protruded from his head and curled backward like a ram; and a set of fangs that glistened in the light like fine china.
Regina turned to locate her bra hanging from the floor lamp when she saw the figures on the balcony. She screamed at the top of her lungs and ran down the hall.
The large dark, olive skinned intruder smiled as the screeching moved further and further away. “I’ll be in touch,” he said and jumped onto the railing, spread his wings and leapt off the balcony; the wind caught him and carried him away as his accomplice did the same.
James tried for so long to completely forget about his past; now he had no choice but to remember every fucking detail.
29
London, England…
Junior felt like shit for the way he treated Awilda; but even if his pride would allow it, now was not the time for apologies. She was fast asleep and his eyelids were growing heavier by the second. He only needed a fraction of the amount of sleep that normal humans needed, but he still worried she would wake during that small window of opportunity. On his next exhale he willed himself to stand and lift the large chair. He walked it quietly to the front door and sat it down directly in front. She would have to be Houdini to get past him tonight. He reclaimed his seat and leaned his head back, allowing his shoulders to relax.
The small rustling echoed in his ears as he watched Awilda shiver from across the room. The space must have been cold. He stood and carried himself to the middle of the room. He placed his hands on his hips and surveyed his surroundings, trying to locate a space heater. He wondered if the electric fireplace had a heat setting. Even if it did he was going to have a hell of a time figuring out if it worked or not.
She shivered again.
Junior looked at the slender girl sleeping mere feet in front of him. She was so small in that queen sized bed. He placed his hand on the back of his neck and began massaging the muscles, trying to figure out his best course of action. He knew fidgeting with a heater was the acceptable and logical thing to do; but as he looked upon the soft skin of her neck and the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders with each breath he couldn’t help but long to lie with her. He loved the smell of her hair and feel of her in his arms.
Throwing the logical decision out the window he slowly approached the bed. As gingerly as
he could he lied down on the mattress and turned on his side to face Awilda’s back. Slowly, he draped his arm over her, spooning her and hoping his body heat would be enough to calm her shivering.
Awilda relaxed instantly, still fast asleep. Junior couldn’t help but smile as he took in her natural scent. He settled into the mattress and wished like hell he could apologize for the way he treated her.
Suddenly, to Junior’s surprise, Awilda shifted her position. She moaned a little as she leaned back into him, allowing his body to cradle hers. His heart jumped.
He knew that even if he fell asleep like this he’d wake up long before she did. And then he would get up and return to his position in the chair. Even though she was accepting his embrace now he knew she wasn’t fully aware of it. If she woke up to find him spooning her she’d probably kick him out of the bed faster than he could blink. But for now he would revel in the way her body pressed perfectly against his. Softly, he whispered, “Goodnight Awilda.”
She moaned again, and in her sleep drunken state her lips parted and she slurred, “Goodnight.”
Junior smiled as his eyes lowered to the curvature of her bare neck and shoulder. He wanted to press his lips to her skin. He imagined running his hand down her arm and under the blanket where he would guide it along the valley of her waist line before making the climb to the top of her hip. He would listen to her gentle moan as his palm moved down her leg, spreading her thighs and moving back up again. He wanted to touch her. He wanted her to breathe heavily as he massaged her. He…
Shit. He cursed himself as his cock hardened again, punching against the fly of his jeans. Awilda moved slightly, her backside rubbing against his erection and making him harden even further. He squeezed his eyes shut; trying to ignore the burning lust he had for the woman in his arms. How could she have such an effect on him? He contemplated heading back into the shower, but he didn’t want to move. He was happy where he was. No, he was just going to have to grin and bear it. He would have a serious case of blue balls later, but he didn’t care.
Junior needed to think of something – anything else. He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Awilda earlier. He had tried to convince her of Kingsley’s virtues. He wasn’t sure if he really succeeded. In truth, he was beginning to fall short when counting those virtues. The King he knew from his childhood was vibrant and full of life. Now, even when there was a smile on his face there was always dimness behind his eyes. Junior wondered if that dullness was always there and, being a naive self-centered teenage boy, never noticed it. Perhaps it took experiencing his own heartbreak and failures to recognize someone else’s.
Junior closed his eyes and his face tightened as he remembered his reunion with Kingsley. His mother had passed exactly forty-eight years prior. He had finally made it to the cemetery with a bouquet of flowers to lie on her grave. As he approached the stone a lump formed in his throat. He hadn’t visited his mother’s gravesite, nor spoken about her since the day she died. He wanted to visit her often, but never could bring himself to. Staring at a gravestone with her name carved into it would only force him to face the harsh truth; his mother was gone forever; but today for the first time he would face it like a man. He planned to sit cross-legged in front of the stone and read the inscription; he planned to talk to her as if she was sitting right in front of him. He would even imagine the things she would say in response if she could. And maybe he could gather enough courage to tell her what he was. He figured if there really was a heaven from which she could watch then she already knew he was a shifter; but for some reason the thought of saying those words to his mother terrified him. Even though she always told him he was special, he had a feeling sprouting wings and a tail wasn’t what she meant. On this day, the forty-eighth anniversary, however, he decided to break the silence. Perhaps it was because he was finally growing up; or maybe it was because he had just had to endure Elizabeth and Randy’s thirtieth anniversary party.
The two had been happily married for three decades; just as Junior had always imagined he would be with Elizabeth. This was the kind of torment he would seek the advice of his mother for.
With a bouquet of red roses resting in the crook of his arm Junior reached his mother’s gravestone. For the first time he read the inscription: Here Lies Kate Georgette Cross; Devoted Mother to Junior.
After a moment Junior willed his knees to bend and his hands to lay the roses on her grave when he noticed a figure looming in the shadow of a distant tree. He narrowed his eyes to recognize a face he hadn’t seen in too many years. He straightened and walked away from his mother’s grave, heading to the old man under the tree.
“Kingsley?” He called. The old man, who stood before a grave of his own, turned and looked at Junior. “Oh my god, Kingsley; is that really you?” He reached the man and wrapped his arms around him. Kingsley accepted the embrace. “Junior,” he grumbled, “it’s good to see you m’boy.”
It took only seconds for Junior to realize the math. It had been over fifty years since he’d last seen the old man, and he looked exactly as he remembered. He pulled away with surprise. “Holy shit,” he breathed, “you too?”
Kingsley laughed, “Yeah, me too.”
“I thought we didn’t age.”
“Well not all of us are lucky enough to shift in our prime, asshole. I haven’t aged in almost three-hundred years.”
“Holy shit.”
“Watch your mouth kid.” Kingsley grumbled.
“Sorry; I’m just shocked to see you…”
“Alive? Yeah, well, to be honest so am I. Hell, I at least figured I would have found my Responsibility by now; how about you?”
The two started walking away from the tree and towards a distant park bench. “Oh, yeah, I found her.” Junior said. “Her name’s Elizabeth; she’s a real peach.”
“Good for you.”
“Yeah, except that she’s happily married. I actually just came from her…”
“Why do you care if she’s married or not?”
Junior sat across from Kingsley on an old, wooden picnic bench. “Well, because I love her, of course.”
“You don’t love her.”
“Oh, yes I do.” Junior beamed.
“No you don’t. You only love her because the Lord says you have to. You’re doing His bidding. Don’t get it confused kid. I’ve seen too many of us fall down that same path you’re on and it’s not a pretty picture. You waste your whole shifting life on someone who just takes you for granted.”
Junior lowered his head, confused by Kingsley’s bitterness. He couldn’t believe that Elizabeth would ever do that to him. Eager to change the subject, he looked into those old eyes that hadn’t changed for decades, “So what brings you here?”
Kingsley looked around, “Death; lots of it.” He sat in silence for a moment, feeling the wind blow through his white, trimmed beard. “I’ve seen too much of it Junior. I didn’t think it could get any worse after watching my sweet Bethany pass all those years ago. She and I always talked about growing old together. We bought plots and headstones and made arrangements for us to be buried next to each other for all eternity in this very cemetery.” He sighed, “She moved in here a long time ago, and here I am, still walking and breathing without a clue as to when I can join her. I thought sitting next to her on her death bed and watching her drift into eternal sleep would be the hardest part; but then I watched all three of my children die; one by one. Their children were the next to go and then their children after that. Most of them died of natural causes and old age.”
Kingsley let out a shallow sigh, “I remember my great grandson, Eric, died tragically in a car accident.” He cursed under his breath. “The boy had potential, too; smart as hell. Anyway, I remember standing in the back corner at his funeral, pretending to be a friend paying my respects because like hell I could tell people I was Eric’s great grandfather; alive and kicking. I had to watch my granddaughter Olivia and her dumbass husband bury their only son. The pain on the
ir faces would make the world’s strongest man fall to his knees and weep; and it dawned on me, when I die; when I finally die, no one will weep at my funeral, because no one will know I was ever alive in the first place. No one will ever cry because their grandpa, their father, or their husband passed away.”
Junior wanted to wrap his arms around his old friend again, but couldn’t bring himself to move from his seat. “You have me now.” His voice cracked only slightly.
Kingsley gave a small, crooked smile. “And what happens when you’re gone? Who’s to say I’ll find my Responsibility before your time is up?”
“You can’t look at it that way.”
“I tried not to; believe me, I tried. I kept in touch for as long as I could. I even watched from afar all my descendents as they went about their everyday lives; pretending to be their neighbors and late parent’s distant friends. I even moved into a nursing home just to be near my last great-great granddaughter Sylvia.” His eyes lowered to the wooden table top and a small tear gathered in the corner of his right eye. “She died five days ago.” He sat in silence for a moment. “I have no reason to live, kid; and no means by which to die. Enjoy your shifting years. Don’t waste it on one woman even if she is your Responsibility. She’s not going to weep at your funeral.”
30
Awilda woke in the same hotel bed she’d woken in the day before; and just like the day before she couldn’t remember any dreams. Had she actually slept through the night again? Either she was cured or Junior watching over her warded the nightmares away; or maybe it was just the hotel room. Yeah, that’s it; all she needed all these years was a comfy bed.
She couldn’t hear any movements in the room as she stared at the light green wall. Slowly, she turned onto her back and looked over to see Junior sleeping in a large chair right smack in front of the door. Her brows furrowed and lips pursed at the inconvenience. No way was she getting past him now.