Grave Danger

by K. E. Rodgers

  “And you think to place the blame on us.”

  “Who else could it be?” He didn’t comment.

  They stood in the streets for several more seconds, assessing the other. There was obvious mistrust between them. It hung heavy in the atmosphere around their forms; a thick blanket of unease. But, hidden in the subtext of their stares was something more. Something neither of them had yet to grasp.

  “You’re rather attractive for a man-eater,” she said with contempt. When his eyes flashed as they did when he was angry or irritated, the only two emotions she had seen thus far, there was something completely beguiling about them. His brother was just as attractive physically as he was, but in Corrigan, there was something more. And if she didn’t steal herself against him, she could very likely fall into the trap of those brilliant blue eyes.

  “You’re not so bad yourself, for a controlling little phantom,” Corrigan retorted with an equal measure of contempt back at her. The truth was, she was more than not so bad and maybe he was losing his mind because he never thought about anyone, ghost or otherwise, the way he was thinking about her. He hated her. She was a bokor, his worst nightmare as well as a ghost. He couldn’t really decide which part of her he hated more right now.

  But the world was indeed a strange place, filled with unexplainable anomalies. Because when he wasn’t thinking off sucking the soul out of her, he was wondering if her lips would be as cool and soft as the rest of her skin. And damn him for even having thoughts about what she looked like under her ghostly attire. If he touched her would she respond accordingly? She wasn’t flesh and blood, but then neither was she without substance. It was madness.

  Clarissa looked off into the horizon. Already she could see the subtle changes in the morning sky. It would be dawn in a few hours, and he and his kind would be back on their side of the city line. Turning back to the figure in front of her, she raked her gaze once more over his person. “You should go now before the light comes.”

  He too raked her with a heated glare. “Stay away from my family.” Those were his last words. But before he left he did something that shocked not only Clarissa, but Corrigan himself. He had every intention of getting as far away from the little phantom baggage as possible, when the madness struck him like lightening.

  Corrigan took hold of her cool form before she had a chance to shift atmosphere, pulling her closer when he should have shoved her away from him. The spontaneity on his part left her without the motivation to fight him off. Later, he would wonder if she would have fought either way. Clarissa seemed to flow toward him, like she had been expecting it, but he knew she couldn’t have.

  Taking this moment for what it was, madness, Corrigan found out exactly what Clarissa’s lips felt like under his own. Holding her in place with one strong grip on her arm and his other hand taking hold of her face, he took from her, not her soul but something equally as tantalizing.

  Clarissa’s eyes slipped closed of their own free will as insanity took hold of her and she found out exactly what it was like to feel his lips against her own. His lips were warm, not cold like hers; the blood and flesh of his kills heating his system. And she could almost believe that her own lips began to match his in temperature as they took what she seemed to be freely offering; a kiss that held a stamp of possession. But Clarissa was not of a mind to let him have all the control. With caution and self-preservation thrown aside, Clarissa extracted her arm from his grasp taking his Adonis face into her cool hands and taking what she would of him.

  Corrigan almost roared like the beast he knew he was when Clarissa took hold of his face and began taking control of the kiss. It was like kissing a lightning bolt, her passions an arch of electricity flowing from her into him, setting his hair on end and igniting a storm of cosmic awareness, all of which was centered in the nucleus of their combined forms. For several minutes soul and flesh touched, becoming one in a bright flash of living unity that he wanted to exist in for the rest of eternity.

  She’s a bokor.

  The voice of self-preservation invaded the beauty of the moment, but he couldn’t ignore it. This woman stood to mean ruin for himself and his family and no matter how much he might want her, Corrigan had to remember that she was the enemy. Drawing away from a moment that was sure to haunt him for the rest of his existence, he managed to extract himself from her clutches. It was almost too much to watch the strange change of coloring in her soul as the heat of his body had warmed hers, the combination of both revealing a look of heated ardor to her cheeks and lips.

  Clarissa was slow to come down from that place where some people said time stood still. She wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but it certainly had felt like time did not exist when Corrigan’s lips had taken her own. If such a phenomenon happened with a kiss, she could only divine what other talents he possessed.

  Opening her eyes which felt heavy with satisfaction, Clarissa expected to see Corrigan standing in front of her, angry perhaps, his usual temperament. When her eyes finally focused back to the reality of the moment though, she found herself once again alone in the dark street. Coldness crept back inside of her, and she reminded herself, once again, that he was the enemy. Clarissa steeled against the sudden feeling of rejection. She brushed herself off, pushing the kiss from her mind, suppressing secrets deep inside her person where even she could believe they did not exist and turning swiftly away, she walked home.

  Clarissa was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice the phantom like figure watching her from the shadows. He smiled a demonic grin of satisfaction at what he had just witnessed. There was nothing like the blurring of enemy lines to break down forces on both sides. And from what he could gather from the ardent embrace of these two foes, the little battles between the two kinds would quickly flare up into the Great War he had been aiming for. And when everyone was pointing accusing fingers at the other, he would finally take control of the city. He laughed to himself, unable to suppress the glee at finally finding the two unsuspecting patsies that would finally sever the frayed alliance between the Eidolon and the flesh-eaters. He hoped they both got what they deserved in the end.

  Chapter 11-

  The days passed by quickly for Clarissa. She had much to concern her with, not only with the preparations for her new home, which the community was even now in the process of acquiring for her. She had also been asked through Henry direct from the Eidolon councilmen to join the select group of individuals who resided under The Four as administrative assistants. Henry was among these few spirits who had the power to overrule The Four on occasion; though no one had ever done so thus far.

  Clarissa was excited to have her own home, a place that she could call exclusively hers. Of course she had enjoyed her stay with Madeline Connors. Maddy was a woman few people could find a reason to dislike. Her lively spirit was contagious to anyone who came near her, and Clarissa enjoyed spending evenings with her and Eleanor. And Maddy had never asked her to share another cup of tea in front of Eleanor; the woman’s discretion was a blessing.

  Madeline’s grandson, Jackson, stayed the rest of the weekend at the house. The young man, like his grandmother was attuned to the paranormal currents and could see and converse with Clarissa and the others. Growing up with his grandmother for an influence, the idea of sharing a house with a ghost just didn’t faze him like it would his friends.

  During the day Jackson was out, hanging out with friends in the area including Leah Moon. Leah had invited Clarissa to join them that Sunday evening before Jackson had to go home out to a movie. Clarissa had eagerly accepted the invitation, not inquiring what movie they had chosen to go see.

  An advantage of being invisible to most humans was that Clarissa didn’t have to pay for her ticket to see the show. Though she thought she would slip the money in to the theatre somehow, feeling that it was still wrong to watch the movie without paying for it.

  Leah had ordered the movie tickets ahead of time and as she was passing out the tickets to
Jackson and two of his friends, Clarissa casually slipped some money into the ticket both. The friends, a girl and boy about the same age as Jackson, couldn’t see Clarissa, but they knew she was there. Being friends with people like Leah and Jackson, you had to get over the unusual acquaintances they kept, that for them were almost normal. Leah handed Clarissa her ticket as she followed behind Jackson and the two other livings. Clarissa looked down at her ticket, reading the title of the movie.

  “Deadland: Flesh of the Fallen,” Clarissa read the title aloud, not quite sure what the turmoil of emotions she was feeling inside meant. They were watching a horror movie, usually a good choice as far as genres went, but this particular one had a plot line that struck a certain dissonant chord within Clarissa. Though she had never seen the trailer for this movie, it didn’t take a genius to realize that the movie would feature certain un-dead characters that would be, if Hollywood stayed true to its monster traditions, nothing like the creatures she had encountered the other evening.

  Clarissa sat between Jackson and Leah, the two young livings sitting farther down on Jackson’s right. As they were watching the before movie trailers, Clarissa absentmindedly reached for Leah’s soda cup. It was a habit of the livings to consume food and drink while watching a movie and Clarissa was no different in mind-set. It was only when she caught Leah looking at her with a strange peculiar expression that she realized what she was doing.

  She quickly put the drink down into the arm-cup compartment, facing forward as Leah and Jackson exchanged a knowing look. It hadn’t been Clarissa’s intention to reveal her strange ability to connect with the tangible objects of this world on a level beyond the normal spirit. She couldn’t take it back now. Thankfully the lights dimmed and Jackson and Leah were forced to keep their questions to themselves until after the movie.

  Clarissa told herself that it was just a movie, that the characters and themes of the story were fictitious and quite frankly only Hollywood could dream up some the most ludicrous concepts of the paranormal world. It was sensationalism, nothing more. She sat back, preparing herself to be as unmoved by the movie as possible.

  The zombie character on the screen was consuming another helpless human, its mouth full of blood and gore. In truth, everything about the creature was in complete contrast to the true form of the flesh-eaters. Except for the fact that the creatures were eating the flesh and blood of the poor helpless human victims, there was nothing else that would make Clarissa believe that the character on the screen was the real deal. Even the eyes weren’t right.

  The memories of looking into the eyes of a handsome flesh-eater had a strange effect on Clarissa, a ripple of tangible awareness that crept over her skin and made her insides flutter. Those blue iridescent eyes had held her in enthrallment and they had been alive with fire not dead and glassy like the creature on the screen in front of her. Then there was the unexpected and quite unorthodox kiss they had exchanged under the cover of nights blanket. It had been exceptional, exquisite and wrong on so many levels.

  Clarissa pulled herself out of her mind and focused once again on the movie. More death and gore plastered the wide screen in the theatre. The screaming and wailing of the vulnerable livings followed by the sickening crunch of their bones as they snapped, followed by sucking sounds. Unfortunately, Clarissa was unmoved by what she was seeing on the screen, her mind retreating back into the past, to the moment when her world had changed yet again.

  Clarissa was finding it difficult to separate what she had come to know and hate about the flesh-eater with what she had learned on encountering the flesh and blood creatures in person. Corrigan LeMoyne had been for one perfect moment the completion of body to her soul. Everything before and after that kiss distanced itself, as if separated by a great divide. So this was what people meant by an epoch. There was before that soul shattering kiss and then there was after. And it had indeed almost shattered her very soul. It was when he had drawn away from her, taking that glimmer of perfect completeness with him.

  Clarissa branded herself a romantic fool for even contemplating secret thoughts about a man who could very well be responsible for the deaths of the S.S. members. And even if he wasn’t, he was still a flesh-eater. Corrigan killed to survive, so many victims that it almost made her sick to think about those faceless people who had had life snuffed out. Death and murder was every aspect of his character and she should hate him above all things evil in this world. Too bad evil could kiss like an angel.

  What he and his family were permitted to do in this city was murder and the blood of their victims was on all of their hands. The Eidolon community had been at a disadvantage in the past, striking a deal with the devils in the hope of sparing at least some innocent lives. That wasn’t good enough anymore. And now there was a new player in this battle, Clarissa Schofield, death bokor.

  With a sigh of bitter resolve, she knew what she had to do. Forcing herself once again out of her minds wanderings, she focused her complete attention back on the movie. Clarissa would think no more about Corrigan or his exceptional kissing techniques. In the end she hoped he got what he deserved.

  ***∞***

  “Spill, Clarissa. I can’t wait any longer.” Leah Moon was sprawled on Clarissa’s bed as Clarissa folded her spectral clothes and placed them neatly into her bureau draws. Though the articles of clothing were spectrally made, they were not without substance. Just like the livings tangible items, hers existed because they were composed with the natural elements of the universe; the magick of it being unexplained science.

  Clarissa closed the drawer, turning around to face her living guest. Jackson had left after the movie along with his friends. He had to be home because he had school in the morning, so he and his bike took off for home shortly before the sun sank away into night. Leah, who was quickly becoming a good friend, had stayed behind to visit with Clarissa. But more importantly, she had stayed to wheedle information out of her ghost friend.

  Clarissa thought to feign confusion, but decided against it. She had yet to tell anyone of her experience the other evening, afraid that if she told Eleanor she would be angry and have Henry or Richard tag her. Clarissa didn’t want to be escorted everywhere she went. If any of the Eidolon knew she had interacted so intimately with one of the others they might grow suspicious. And right now she wanted – needed to keep the fact that she was bokor from them until she could figure out how she was going to deal with this startling revelation.

  “What exactly do you want me to tell you?” Clarissa hedged. The incident in the movie theatre had peeked Leah’s curiosity, but as far as she knew, Leah couldn’t put being a bokor to the ability to interact more personably with the living world.

  Leah rolled over onto her stomach, looking up at Clarissa as she spoke. “Tell me what you are, Clarissa.” Before Clarissa could answer she continued. “And don’t give me the runaround. You’re not just a ghost are you? There is something more about you that isn’t like the others. I want to know what that is.”

  Clarissa sighed, walking across her bedroom to sit on the edge of her plush queen sized bed. Leah turned to take her hand which was clutched tightly in a fist on the comforter. It was strange to be touched by the living, but Leah’s touch was somehow different than when she had touched Corrigan, though his skin seemed to be the same as any other living flesh.

  Leah pushed comforting thoughts into Clarissa. She was one of the few livings who could touch the souls. Even among the S.S. members, she was one of few who could interact on a personable level with the Eidolon.

  “I’m a bokor,” Clarissa whispered, as if saying the words too loud might awaken things best left alone in the world. “I’m a death bokor, which means even though I have passed the living world, I have retained these talents. I can interact with the living world as well as the dead and I have the means to control them both.”

  Leah took the disclosure of Clarissa’s forgotten identity in good stride. She didn’t react except for a raise of her delicate black eye
brows as she quietly studied Clarissa, all the while still keeping hold of her hand. After several moments of silence Clarissa couldn’t bare it.

  “Go ahead, Leah. I’m waiting for you to ask me.” Clarissa waited expectantly for the young living woman to question how Clarissa had come to know this about herself. She wondered if even then Leah would make much of a reaction over the news.

  “Alright, I’ll ask. As you can guess I’m dying to ask.” Leah made a frown at her poor choice of words. “I’m sorry. That was a really bad word to use there. I know better.” Clarissa shrugged, un-offended. “How did you find out you were a bokor in life and are now apparently a bokor in death? You told me before that you knew nothing of the death bokor or even the flesh-eaters. How could you have suddenly come to the conclusion that you are one of these legendary beings?”

  “Because I had the fortune or misfortune, however you’d like to see it, to use my talents on someone the other night and he confirmed that I was one.”

  If she had never encountered Corrigan or his family, Clarissa wondered if she would have ever learned her true identity as a bokor. Would she have remained in the dark forever? Even now, knowing what she was didn’t bring back the memories she’d hoped would be revealed. As if finding out she was a death bokor would somehow reveal who she had been in life. It had not. Clarissa was no closer to knowing Clarissa Schofield, living person, than she was to grasping the full spectrum of her deathly talents.

  “He,” Leah said meaningfully. “And who would this ‘he’ person be? How is it that he knew what you were when none of us could tell?”

  Leah sat up on the bed, tucking her legs under her skirt. It billowed around her like a black sea, rippling with her movements. Clarissa came to sit fully on the bed, folding her longer legs under her body. The two women sat facing each other. Clarissa would tell Leah everything and hope that her new living friend could keep her secrets.