Red

by Tracey H. Kitts

  Alfred pressed the tile that would take him directly to my father's office as I watched forlornly. He stepped forward, pulled me against him, and kissed me softly. I closed my eyes and savored the way his lips felt against mine. There were many nights ahead when I would have only that memory to keep me warm.

  "I'll see you soon,” he whispered against my lips.

  Alfred stepped back into the circle, and in an instant, he was gone.

  By the time I got back upstairs, Kat was at the door. As I opened the door, I felt tears beginning to burn the backs of my eyes, but I fought it. The only problem was a real friend knows when something's wrong, just by looking at you.

  "What's wrong?” Kat asked, stepping toward me.

  The compassion on her face was too much. I tried unsuccessfully to cover up the trail of involuntary tears with the sleeve of my robe.

  "Do you realize that I've cried more in the past five months than I have in the past five years?” I sniffled.

  "Where's Alfred?” she asked, looking around.

  "Come in, I'll explain,” I said, still attempting to dry my eyes.

  Kat made coffee while I went over what had happened.

  "I don't understand something,” Kat began, “If there's a president, then what purpose does the council serve?"

  "The wizards on the council are advisors to the president. He's voted on every twenty years, and represents the entire population. A being of any race can be elected president."

  "What about the wizards? How long do they stay on the council?"

  "They serve on the council for life."

  "Wow. Ever have them fight over it?"

  "The council seats?"

  "Yeah,” she said, looking for some cream. “I mean, those guys live for forever, that's got to be a big deal, right?"

  "Oh yeah. That's what the last wizard war was about."

  "But I thought you guys had only had one war,” Kat looked confused.

  "No, one world war, there have been many wizard wars...."

  "But only one war that managed to piss off everybody,” she finished for me.

  "Pretty much."

  "So, what happened last time?"

  I got up to look for some fruit. With my metabolism, if I didn't eat soon, I'd get sick, even if I didn't feel like eating at the moment. “You really want to hear all this crap?"

  "Sure,” Kat said, looking genuinely interested. “It's not every day you get to hear stuff like this. I mean, normally, you have to buy a good sci-fi or fantasy book to get this level of bullshit."

  I laughed. “It's not bullshit."

  "So, what happened?” she prompted.

  "Well, this dark wizard, Tavarius Maeryn, wanted the recently vacated seat on the council. He never really had a chance. I mean, everyone knew he was evil. They had someone else in mind to recommend for the position, but it was never said who."

  "If they decided on someone, do they just automatically get in?” Kat interrupted.

  "No, it's put to a vote. If the president or the people have an objection to the opinion of the council, then majority rules. At least two of the three have to agree. Like if the council wanted somebody that the president was against, the vote of the people would decide."

  "What happened then?"

  "So, Maeryn goes out and conjures himself an army of goblins,” I said offhandedly while I looked for some cream to go with my strawberries.

  "He conjured goblins?"

  "Cursed a bunch of elves, actually. The point is, this entire army was defeated by a young wizard named Alek Ambrose. He was only twenty years old at the time. Everyone was really impressed."

  "They offered him the seat, right?"

  "Oh sure, but he turned it down. Said he hadn't fought Maeryn for the seat, that he'd simply done the right thing."

  "Sounds very noble and all, but is he for real?"

  "I guess so. He sort of dropped out of sight after that. No one's heard anything from him in the last forty years."

  Kat took a sip of coffee with trembling hands before asking, “So, you've got wizards, elves, and goblins running around and you never thought to mention it?"

  I laughed a little as I answered, “Sorry, Kat. I just didn't think it was that big of a deal. Besides, you knew about the wizards."

  She looked at me like that was the dumbest thing I'd ever said.

  "Are these creatures on Earth?"

  "Not anymore. There were some different races years ago that lived here, but most have died out long ago. Once in a while, you get the stray monster, sent out by some dark wizard, or two bit conjuror. But the last wizard war was forty years ago, and there hasn't been a goblin seen since."

  "Well, that's a comfort,” Kat said sarcastically. “You know, after seeing real live werewolves, I shouldn't be surprised at anything."

  "After I was nearly eaten by one, neither was I,” I said darkly.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Nine

  As I sat on the balcony that evening, I looked out across the woods toward the sunset, and found comfort in its beauty. Dusk had always been my favorite time of day. The stress of the day was behind, with the promise of a warm summer's night ahead. The breeze flowed over my skin like a caress and I sighed, remembering the way Alfred's fingers had brushed the hair back from my face just as gently.

  I breathed deeply as I thought to myself there was poetry somewhere in that memory. I took out my pin and paper and wrote:

  Fingers in My Hair

  The wind brushes softly past my face and I am reminded of your touch. The

  soft caress of gentle hands that I've come to love so much. Your fingers

  run through my hair, chasing away my worries, brushing past my cares.

  The wagging tongues of the world grow still when you touch me. So, I stand here in the wind and let it blow the hair back from my face, quietly remembering a touch that my mind cannot erase.

  I let it brush away my worries and blow away my cares, just as your fingers used to do, when you ran them through my hair.

  Putting down my pin, I looked up at the moon. It was half full, peeking from the clouds like a large, silvery eye. I had always heard that ‘the crazies’ come out on a full moon. The truth was, they were always out, some of them were just more dangerous on a full moon.

  I walked to the edge of the balcony and nearly fell backward when I looked over the roses. Marco was standing under the balcony, looking up expectantly.

  "Little pig, little pig,” he began.

  I couldn't help but laugh. “That won't get you anywhere. Besides, I waxed my chin."

  He laughed then, too, and the sound sent shivers up my spine.

  "What are you doing here, Marco?"

  "I wanted to talk to you."

  "Why?"

  "Can't I come in?” he asked. The deep and sexy rumble of his voice did things to me that I couldn't describe.

  "No, you can't."

  "Don't you trust me, Red?” he asked, pretending to be offended.

  "No, I don't,” I answered, but I couldn't stop the smile.

  "But you like me.” It wasn't a question.

  "I could have you killed for standing here."

  "But you won't."

  Marco knew I wouldn't kill him, not that night, not for just standing there. He stepped back slightly, and I got a better look at one of the sexiest men I'd ever seen. I've never seen anyone look so good in a pair of jeans. They weren't tight, but they fit well enough that you knew what you were looking at, and I felt guilty for looking. Alfred hadn't been gone a day, and there I was ogling Marco, again.

  "No,” I said after a long pause. “I won't have you killed, but I don't feel like conversation tonight either."

  "Well, I didn't feel like conversation when you cuffed me to the chair."

  A smile curved my lips as I purred silkily, “Well, I don't feel like sex either."

  The smile he gave me was nothing short of charming, as he responded, “You know where to fi
nd me."

  "Yes.” Unfortunately, I did, which made it more tempting to seek him out, I thought with a smile as I watched Marco disappear into the woods.

  After closing the balcony doors and pulling the sheer red curtains, I found my bed to look more inviting than it had earlier. I was physically, mentally, and emotionally spent. I let the robe that I'd worn all day, fall to the floor as I crawled between the sheets, still wearing my black lace bra and panties. Taking hold of the pillow Alfred had slept on the night before, I snuggled it against me, breathed deeply, and fell asleep.

  * * * *

  I awoke the next morning to a beautiful day and it pissed me off. Whatever happened to good old rainy days? I rolled over and noticed the blue light flashing on my communicator. Alfred had been gone one whole day and I had a message. This could be good, or this could be bad. I held my breath and pressed the button. The images of Alfred and my father appeared as they began to sing happy birthday to me. I had actually forgotten my own birthday. About the time that I was thinking how stupid I was, Alfred smiled and said, “We know you probably forgot it. Don't feel bad, just do something fun."

  My dad waved at me and said, “Happy Birthday, baby."

  The message was over, the hologram faded, but I was left with a smile. I knew Kat would want to do something and I had a plan. But first, I needed to ask Richard about the tea party, it was only two days away.

  I put on a pair of comfortable old jeans, tan flip flops, and a soft, brown t-shirt that complemented my hazel eyes. Taking my keys from the table, I opened the door to find a package waiting for me. It was a golden showers rose with a card from my mother. I sat it just inside the door with a smile. It would make a nice addition to my garden.

  The University was about an hour away. When I arrived, I was halfway to Richard's office before I realized I had no idea how to approach the topic. I didn't want him to know he was being suckered. I knocked on the door and watched through the small window as Richard jumped, sending rock samples flying. He looked up and smiled. When Richard opened the door, I had no trouble returning the smile as I hugged him affectionately.

  I liked Richard. He was one of those people that you never had to wonder where you stood with. If he liked you, you knew it, likewise if he didn't. There was no guesswork with Richard. Not to simplify him, he was just genuine. Richard was also the only straight man that I could spend the day with without being propositioned.

  "Need help with your rocks?” I asked sarcastically.

  "Yeah.” He laughed.

  I crouched down and began replacing the rocks on the chart, pausing to run my thumb over a piece of polished obsidian. It reminded me of the way Alfred's hair looked in the early morning sun.

  "You ok?” Richard asked.

  "Yeah,” I answered, snapping out of my daydream. “I'm fine."

  "So, what brings you to this God forsaken place?” Obviously Richard was not the happiest of employees. But, he loved teaching, so he stayed, despite tremendous piles of bullshit. Sometimes I thought I should get him a shovel for Christmas instead of a card.

  "Actually I need a favor,” I mentioned tentatively.

  "Don't think I'll do any old thing just because it's your birthday,” he teased.

  "You remembered.” I beamed. “Good, then will you come to Ms. Wilson's tea party with me?” I blurted out.

  "Ms. Wilson? That nosy old woman who asked me my life's history last year? You're kidding right?"

  I pretended to pout and Richard thumped me in the head.

  "Stop it,” he said, but he was smiling.

  "Pleeease?"

  "What's the matter, Alfred doesn't do tea parties?” he asked bitterly.

  "Alfred's out of town,” I said, not making eye contact. When Richard actually paid attention, he was pretty perceptive. I didn't want him to get a good look at my disappointment when I mentioned Alfred's whereabouts.

  "Oh,” he said, as if that changed things. “Then I guess I'm your only choice,” he said, the bitterness returning to his voice.

  "No, Richard,” I looked back up as I asked, “What's wrong with you?” He was never like this. Richard Stacey was absolutely the most mild-mannered person that I knew. Of course, in the years we'd known each other, I think I'd begun to wear off on him a little.

  He sighed resignedly. “It's nothing. I'll go with you. When is it anyway?"

  I passed him the invitation, but I wasn't dropping the other subject. “What's going on?” I persisted.

  "Just more political bullshit. Your buddy's come up with another reason to berate and embarrass me.” Richard referred to anyone he hated as my buddy. The truth of the matter was I didn't like any of the people he worked with either, but I didn't have to live with them, so to speak. I didn't even ask which ‘buddy’ he was referring to. It was no secret that the dean of the science department hated Richard. For reasons that went beyond my comprehension, he was constantly trying to find excuses to have Richard dismissed.

  Of course these reasons were always completely ludicrous. The last I heard he was trying to have him fired for not checking his mail ‘in a timely fashion'. Apparently leaving Science and Society magazines in your mailbox was a violation. I believe he had worded it as, ‘not performing your academic duty'.

  "Any chance we could turn them all into werewolves so you could kill them off for me?” he asked jokingly.

  "No.” I laughed. “Besides, that may all change soon."

  "Really?"

  I proceeded to catch Richard up on recent events. Since he was a scientist, as well as an attack victim, he had an interest in the subject. He was very fortunate to have not been scratched. The werewolf in question had flung a chair at him. It broke his nose, but at least he hadn't been attacked with claws and teeth. His colleague, Dr. David Kane was a newly turned werewolf and wasn't aware that losing his temper could bring on the change. Fortunately, no one was hurt and only the bartender and Richard saw what had happened. Dr. Kane had since learned to control his temper as well as the change.

  "So, things could change then for David, too?” Richard asked about the possibility of werewolves being legally recognized.

  "It could, but there's bound to be a lot of prejudice. I doubt he would want anyone knowing what he is."

  "That's true. Wouldn't want werewolves teaching the next generation, now would we?” he asked sarcastically.

  "Even if he wasn't a werewolf, I wouldn't want Kane teaching the next generation.” I laughed.

  David Kane was a freak even without being a werewolf. He'd been infected with lycanthropy through a rough sexual encounter with a stripper. The problem was, he was really good looking and the animal magnetism that seemed to emanate from most lycanthropes only made him more difficult to resist. Kane was around six foot two, with sandy brown hair, clear blue eyes, and an ass like muffin tins. Besides that, he was a really nice guy. If anything, being a werewolf had made him sexier. Oh yeah, I looked, but I knew too much about Kane to ever seriously want to touch. When it came to sex, this guy didn't have issues, he had a subscription.

  "That's true,” Richard laughed. “He's a nice guy, though."

  "Yes,” I had to agree.

  With Richard caught up on the latest news in my life, I listened while he vented about his ridiculous working conditions, and we continued to pick up his rock samples.

  "You actually know where all of these belong on the chart,” he said in amazement.

  "I'm not a dumbass, you know,” I joked. “Just because I hunt werewolves doesn't mean I don't use my brain."

  "I know that,” he said, not liking to be chastised, even jokingly sometimes. “How's the poetry coming? Had anything else published?"

  I told him about my latest publication, but left out the poem that I'd written about Alfred the night before. Richard and I were close, but I wasn't ready for him to know about Alfred and me yet, not until I was sure there was an ‘Alfred and I'. Richard was the mutual friend that had told me about Bradley's plan to disappear from
my life. After being able to trust Richard with that, it felt strange to keep this from him, but I just didn't want to get into it.

  "There's a lot of fucked up stuff going on around here,” he said finally.

  I knew he had to be really upset. Richard wasn't a saint or anything, but normally, he did not use the f-word.

  "Like what?” I had to know.

  "Like Mallory."

  Dr. Mallory Monroe was a bitch if ever there was one. She taught biology and seemed to have a fetish for anything unwholesome. Seeing as how Richard was a nice guy, she despised him. Mallory was about six feet tall, with short hair, and a strong chin. If it weren't for her breasts, she could easily be mistaken for a man. She hated most men with a passion, though she didn't have a preference for women, she just seemed to hate them slightly less.

  "Why, what's she done?"

  "Nothing in particular. She's just been more of a cunt than usual, even for her,” he said bitterly.

  "Richard,” I scolded with a laugh. “Such language."

  "Well, she is."

  "So, she hasn't actually done anything to you, she's just more of...."

  "A cunt,” he interrupted.

  "Yeah, I got that part.” I laughed. “Could we choose another word please?"

  "Dickhead, now there's a word,” he said darkly, placing the last rock on the chart.

  "Who's the dickhead?” I tried not to laugh, Richard was really upset.

  "Who isn't?"

  "Would you like to get a drink?” I asked, trying to be sympathetic.

  Richard looked at the clock on his cell phone. The man never wore a watch. “It's noon,” he said flatly.

  "So?"

  He looked at me for a minute, considering. “You're right. To hell with it. I don't have to teach today. Let's go have a drink."

  Since I didn't have the ability to get drunk and stay that way and Richard did, I decided to drive. Besides, I think he needed to drink more than I did. We made our way over to a little bar on the other side of town and after two white Russians, he began to mellow.

  "Thanks,” he said.

  "You're welcome."