“What could you have done? I don’t know who he is, and considering I’d just put our relationship on a time out, you’d have been the most likely suspect. I filed a police report, but without knowing who it was they couldn’t help much either.” I pressed my face into the groove between his neck and shoulder. That spot that I thought made just for me, and inhaled. Aram always smelled of cloves and something apple, warm, wonderful to me.
“What occurred today?” he asked, moving the conversation forward and quite aware that I was sniffing him.
“He sent me a key. It unlocked a door behind which he’d left a dead person.” I didn’t like how my voice shook towards the end of my sentence.
“You are scared,” he said, stroking cool fingers up and down my back, “not just that this man is out to get you, but that now he may be killing to gain your attention.” I nodded mutely against his skin. “You feel responsible for his actions.” I nodded again. Aram was very perceptive tonight and I was glad, it made telling him all this just that little bit easier. He pulled my hands up to his face and kissed the palms.
“Your hands are as clean as an angel’s, pet. What this man does is none of your doing, and I know that if you knew his identity he would be stopped by now.” He pulled my hands so that my arms looped around his neck. He stroked his fingers in electric lines down to my shoulders and pulled me into a closer embrace. He stroked my hair over and over again, partly I think, to sooth his own worry.
“I am so very glad you called for me. That it was my comfort you desired.” I squirmed against him. Even in a dream, his body showed how happy he was about that. I felt my cheeks flush.
“I’ve been keeping my promise,” I said very quietly, knowing he could hear me, but it was my own sensibilities I was saving. “I never thought to ask you for the same.” He smiled at me and I had to tip my head back to look into his face, into his eyes which held tender emotion. He bent his mouth to mine and started kissing me. My body naturally, instinctively curved against him. He held and kissed me. Before I realized it, his hand had found its way to second base. I gasped and pushed against his chest.
“Aram!”
“It’s just a dream, pet, a little fantasy to tide us both over.”
“Dream or not, I am not having sex with you.” He stroked his fingers over the exposed flesh at the small of my back and nibbled my ear.
“Not even just a little bit.”
“No!” His fingers traced smooth circles on my hip and I felt something low contract. My body was ready to betray me at the first sign of weakness, so I was very lucky when the sound of the front door opening and closing woke me up to reality.
I got out of bed; but instead of calling out, I crept to the door and peeked around it. Trinket had returned from grocery shopping. She picked up my boots from where I’d kicked them off and placed them neatly by the door next to her own shoes. I was smiling at her need for order when Trinket looked up at me.
“You’re awake? Good. You can help put stuff away.”
“Okay, one second.” I walked back into my room to wriggle into my jeans again before padding out barefoot to join her. Between the two of us, we got the few staples of my diet put away in the cupboards before Trinket got on with cooking supper. I didn’t make her cook for me, but neither could I stop her. She pulled on her little pinafore before selecting bits and pieces she would need. I passed her the two quart casserole dish from where it’s kept on a high shelf, but that was the extent to which I was allowed to help. She gave me the look that said I wasn’t allowed to hover either, so I scurried to the couch and picked up my copy of the bone collector.
After seeing the movie on Channel Five for the fifth time last month, I decided to read the book that spawned the Denzel Washington, Angelina Jolie collaboration. I was surprised, as I usually am, at how different and much better it was. Because as any reader will tell you, nine times out of ten, the books are always better than the adaptations they spawn. When something states it’s loosely based, it can mean really, really loosely. Also, reading crime novels keeps me away from the romances, an all-round good idea. I was enjoying a particular well, thought out scene that hadn’t made it into the movie, when a plate was put down on the coffee table in front of me. I looked up and smiled.
“That was fast. Thanks.”
“Not really, you’ve been reading for over an hour. Put a book in front of you and you’re guaranteed to stay out from under my feet. Eat up before it gets cold.”
I watched as the steam rose off chicken casserole and brown rice. I marked my page with a scrap of paper before slipping onto the floor crossed legged to eat. I was ravenous. It wasn’t hard to see why, looking back at what I’d eaten that day – some old pizza and two cups of coffee. I watched Trinket move about the kitchen cleaning up pots and wiping down the counters and the cooker. I was still absolutely captivated by how she moved. I wondered what would happen if even one minute cog slipped out of place inside her. Would there be anyone alive who could fix her? It was part of the reason I worried about her going off on her own. Having scrubbed everything thoroughly, she unknotted the apron’s white sash.
I loved some of her outfits. They were very girly, some all frills and eyelet lace. Today’s was a much simpler outfit, a black shirt with red tartan tie and cuffs, pleated red tartan skirt over black stockings, and her red Mary Jane’s that sat by the door. She looked very secretarial until you got to the wild, curly blond ringlets that swarmed either side of her face. The hairstyle was very china doll like and her favorite out of the wigs she’d been able to salvage from the remains of the Cirque de Poupee.
“I gave your message to Miss Mallory,” she said, folding her apron and putting it on the side. “She said to tell you to come by in the morning.” I would have responded, but she hated me to speak with my mouthful, so I just nodded.
“I’m going downstairs to file your notes from the case of the disappearing Doberman from last week and start a new tally for how many hours you spent helping the police this time, so you can invoice them properly. How many so far?” I held up splayed fingers indicating five. She nodded before effortlessly slipping her high-heeled shoes on and clattering out the door.
I finished my dinner and the chapter of my book before changing into something more comfortable and climbing back into bed. I wasn’t going to let thoughts of stalkers or murderers bother me anymore tonight. Truth would see me in the morning and hopefully provide much of the information I needed. I’d come to rely on her and she hadn’t let me down. I went to bed a lot earlier these days, as no one seemed to get murdered at a reasonable hour of the night. I snuggled down under the covers, closed my eyes and dreamed for the second time.
In this dream, the same one I had a few night before, I was flying. I just took off from my balcony and glided gracefully over the city. I was always looking down at it, always admiring the things below me or at the dark twinkle of the stars before me. I’d stop from time to time, on a ledge, a statue or a streetlight, amazed how easily it took my weight. It was such a beautiful dream. Imagine my surprise when I woke lying naked on my bedroom floor.
The wood was cool against my belly, while the sunlight streaming through the open balcony door warmed my bare buttocks. Groaning, I pulled up to my knees and stared at my hands as if they held the answers. Something silver jingled around my neck as I worked at a kink I felt in it after sleeping on the cold hard floor. I picked up the chain to see that it was my locket. At least I knew what side of reality I should be on.
“What happened to my clothes?” I asked as if expecting someone to answer me. I turned and raised my hand to block out the daylight. What time was it? The sun was already so high in the sky. There was a rag or something lying between the open balcony doors, on the sill that led outside. It flapped gently in a light breeze. I snatched it and turned back to the light once my eyes readjusted I could see what I held in my hands. It was the night shirt I’d gone to bed in. The sleeves were ripped along the shoulder seems and do
wn the sides like something had burst through the material. The hem was in ribbons of fabric that could have been made by claws or talons. I shuddered, turned again to the light, and shut it out completely by closing the doors and pulling the curtains. What the hell had happened?
I got slowly to my feet. My legs were a little unsteady and I staggered over to the bed to see what the time was. It was nearly twelve o’clock. I swore loudly and hurried to shower and get dressed. Truth was going to think me lazy and ungrateful at this rate. I pulled on black jeans and a red sweater, brushed my damp hair into a quick ponytail and headed out. I walked at a fast clip through town. I had to get to an appointment that I was very, very late for. Most people who saw me coming just got out of my way, except for one guy who stood in the middle of the street reading a newspaper. I collided with him, but neither of us went down. I was going to apologize profusely, when I saw what was on the front page. I grabbed it and tried seeing the picture better, but the guy, thinking some crazy woman got hold of his paper, pushed me off.
“Get your own,” he said gruffly and folded it up under his arm. He marched further down the street to just stand, reopen it, and get in someone else’s way. I gave him a certain hand gesture. I choose not to describe here and headed for the nearest newspaper dispenser. It was the local paper and I could get one at one of those newspaper vending machines rather than find a newsstand. There was one outside the Guild Hall. I could grab a copy and still be at Truth’s before one.
Chapter Seven
“I turned into a frickin bird last night!”
On the whole, not the best thing to shout upon entering a shop and looking out of breath with wild, wet hair dripping down your neck. I looked a little crazy and scared all two customers in Grimoires at the time, causing them to promptly scurry and leave. Truth stood on the mezzanine with her private collection of books, tsking as the only energy she now found in her shop was mine.
“Cassandra, you sure do know how to clear the room.” I looked at her puzzled.
“Sure, you yell fire?” I asked questioningly, then shook my head and held up the paper. “I’m in the paper, look. Well you can’t look, but it’s right there.”
Truth walked down the steps towards me. Despite being blind since birth, her steps never faltered. I lay the paper out flat on the counter. The headline read Mysterious Rare Bird Flocks to Fair City. It was accompanied by a blurry shot of some kind of large bird sitting on a lamppost. The picture was sort of shaky, obviously taken by an amateur on a camera phone. Truth touched the paper, turning it around to face her as she joined me.
“Let me have it. As it seems I have no customers at the moment.” This was the moment I realized my poor choice of words and everyone’s hasty departure.
“Truth I’m sorry I…” She put her hand up to shush me as she muttered magic and ran her other hand over the words. This process always fascinated me because it allowed her to read something that wasn’t Braille.
“Hmm indeed, you and this sighted creature seem to have certainly the same taste in accessories.” In the picture, you could just make out around the bird’s neck was my silver locket. I groaned and put my head against the counter. She patted my head and recoiled.
“Your hair is wet?”
“Yes. I just woke up, on my bedroom floor, naked. I had to shower, dress and hurry because I should have been here hours ago.” I rolled my eyes up to see if she was annoyed with me, but she was smiling.
“I think we shall call these, mitigating circumstances. How about a nice cup of tea?”
“That’s your answer for everything,” I whined, pulling my head up slowly and scanning the store. “Where’s Trinket?” I asked, coming out of my funk momentarily.
“She arrived for her shift a little worried. She tried calling you in the night, but you hadn’t answered. I sent her off on some errands for an hour or so to take her mind off it. I will be glad to tell her when she returns that you are safe and sound. Come sit down and we can talk in a much calmer and reasonable manner.” She led the way like some majestic queen while I followed, feeling like a half drowned street urchin. She led me up to her perch, a high back Victorian reading chair with a small table next to it and another chair across, I assumed for me. Two cups were already set out and the tea pot radiated warmth.
“I just made a pot,” she said smiling, pouring first my cup and then hers. A golden green liquid flowed out. One she’d brewed for me before and was happy to admit didn’t taste so bad. Truth took her seat and sipped her tea, waiting until my breathing got back to normal.
“So was last night your first shape shift?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t remember shifting and there was no moon.”
“Shape shifting with the moon is a characteristic of genetic lycanthropy and you are not a lycanthrope.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Well, from what little you’ve told me and the rumors circulating…”
“More rumors?” I groaned. The supernatural community really loved their gossip. Like old women in their curlers under driers at the beauty salon, they talked nonstop, about everybody else’s business.
“There is something more than magic about you. It cannot really be explained, but there are creatures, even some very powerful witches that can change their shape. No moon required.”
“But I didn’t mean to do it. I just woke up and saw the paper and put two and two together.” Truth considered this for a minute and put her cup down on the table. She turned her startling pearl drop eyes on me.
“What did you dream of last night?”
“Flying. I’ve had the same dream several nights before. About flying over the city.”
“And what feelings did you have before that?”
I thought about it. What had I been feeling last night? Scared and perhaps more than a little trapped.
“Trapped, I’ve been feeling trapped.”
“So your unconscious self found a way to set you free if only for a couple of hours a night.” She looked at me and then at my tea. I picked it up and took a long sip just to please my host. I did, however, feel remarkably better for the tea. I wondered if she put a little something extra in it.
“Beings of great power must be aware of both their conscious and unconscious desires, or else the magic will act for them. It is your responsibility to monitor yourself.” I grumbled.
“Thanks for the ‘great powers, great responsibility’ speech Uncle Ben. And if you know your unconscious desires, doesn’t that kind of automatically make them conscious desires.” She grabbed her cane from next to her chair and whacked me in the leg with it. I nearly dropped the cup.
“Ouch! What the hell?”
“Do not be flippant with me because you do not like that you must add another skill to your pantheon that you don’t understand how to use yet. There are people who would kill for some of the power you take for granted.”
“I don’t take it for granted. And don’t you go whacking me anymore, or the cane gets it.”
“Then suck it up princess.”
I openly gaped at Truth who had not said such a unladylike sentence in her whole life. Her body started to tremble. It took me a minute to realize that she was laughing, laughing at me, at herself, at everything around her. When she calmed down, still tittering slightly, I recognized her straight to business face emerging.
“This is not why you came to see me.”
“No ma’am,” I said and she brightened at my politeness. “I need to know what you can tell me about the seven deadly sins.”
“Vanity, Avarice, Gluttony, Lust, Sloth, Wrath and Envy?” I nodded. Those were the ones. She tapped her chin. “Whereas I am not a bible scholar, I could tell you what each sin is and how you could supposedly be punished for it. But I think if you hadn’t already covered the basics like that on your own, you wouldn’t be coming to me.”
“And you’d be right.”
“Naturally. Sit tight a moment. I will need a bo
ok from the safe.”
Truth had never needed to get a book from her safe before or even referred to having a safe at all. As old fashioned as she was, I thought she stuffed her daily takings into her mattress at night. She stood and fished around on the large loop of keys she kept in her pocket. I loved Truth’s clothes. They were always tailored to her body and personality. I wonder if that was part of the reason she liked Trinket so much. They both had an unusual sense of style. Today she had on a white blouse with a ruffled neck accentuated by a scarlet ribbon knotted in a bow around the collar. A whale bone corset a gleaming shade of bronze pushed her breasts into prominence. Her skirt, which ran full to the ground, was the same scarlet as the ribbon at her throat and swished around the Victorian button up boots with the lace tops that she wore often, if not always. She went down the stairs and did something curious. She locked the front door and flipped the CLOSED sign to the front. She then disappeared under the mezzanine to the back of the store. I got the feeling that I was about to see something rare that no one knew she had, or was supposed to have.
When she came back, the book she held between her palms looked older than dirt. It was dark, rich brown leather, the binding so frayed that some of the white gauze of the spine showed through. The top corner of the front of the book looked like something had taken a bite out of it. The gold filigree of the pages side seemed charred, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a distinct hand print in something that could only be dried blood on the back cover. She turned it so that I could see the front held a downcast pentacle and the head of the beast.
“Truth,” I said in shock and awe, “what is that?” She resumed her seat before answering me, stroking her fingers over the old worn cover.
“A true Encyclopedia Demonica. One of the only copies left after the inquisition burned them. It took me years to procure this copy.”
Deadly Sin (Cassandra Farbanks) Page 8