She looked through her kitchen cabinets and refrigerator looking for something to prepare for dinner and felt frustrated at her lack of groceries. Something simple would have to be good enough tonight, so she decided on a grilled cheese sandwich and a hot bowl of tomato soup while trying not to acknowledge that it was one of the meals her mother had always prepared for her when she'd had the blues as a child.
She finally did turn on the radio and prepared the meal silently letting the music loosen her muscles, soften her mood. When it was done cooking, she sat down to eat by herself and was overcome with a sense of extreme loneliness. The meal was able to fill her stomach but not the hole in her heart.
Warm hands lay gently on Justine's shoulders, at first they startled her, but then she realized Patrick with his quiet walk and ways must have slipped into the apartment without her being aware of it. She closed her eyes rolling her head over her neck and moaned softly. She started to stand wanting to share the embrace, but his hands gently shoved her back down before beginning to rub the tension out of her shoulders. Justine nearly purred like a kitten loving the warmth, the feeling of letting go, of having someone there to share her long day with. She knew that, with all her heart that she did want to live with Patrick, to share a home with him. She smiled softly, happy that she was confident with at least that decision.
His warm hands left her shoulders for her hair, where they stroked and soothed in long, lingering caresses that sent trembles of excited arousal through her body. His touch was so wonderful and promising, so passionate, screaming on the winds of desire.
A good bout of lovemaking would be a perfect way to end the dreadful day, she knew. She stood then, pushing his hands away and turned to embrace him.
His eyes were the greenest of a dense forest. His height and build lacking the supremacy of Patrick's. And his smile stopped her heart in a way that frightened her to her soul.
"Before you tell me to leave, tell me how much you like my touch Justine." It was odd how his voice could be so pleasant in such a scathing way. Betrayal, Justine felt it soak into her body, not only against Patrick but against herself. Would his hands have felt so good if she had not thought they were Patrick's? The question stabbed her with a hundred doubts.
Instead of feeling fear, she felt the clawing depth of sadness seeming to pull her down. The waning sun light spilled in though the sliding glass door spinning shadows around both him and her. The clock ticked softly in the back ground, a sound that was usually so comforting.
Justine sat back down and invited him to sit with her. Her half eaten meal cold now on the tan oak table. A look of delighted surprise jumped into his eyes to be quickly replaced by a look of smugness.
"So you did like it, didn't you." It was not a question, it was Devin giving himself a pat on the back.
With a voice that bordered on emotional void, Justine asked,
"What do you want from me?"
Devin looked down at his fingers folded neatly together on the table.
"I want you to be my partner. I want to teach you the ways of the power. I want you to love me as I love you."
Toying with the edges of the dark green fabric place mat Justine took her time in answering.
"I already have a partner, he is teaching me, I love him, and you could not possibly love me because you do not know me."
Devin stood then, a look of conceited miff gathering on his face.
"How can you know that Justine? Maybe he is not teaching you the right way, the right things. Maybe he doesn't even love you in return." His voice lent a weakness that Justine knew she would have to use to her advantage.
She paused, giving him time to question himself.
"I only know that what he has taught, the little that I have learned, feels right. At my own pace, and only if I want to learn. That's how Patrick is. I also am very sure that he loves me, more sure of it than just about anything else in my life right now."
She paused and took a sip of the warming milk that she had poured to accompany her meal.
"Devin, I don't know how you found me from the start, why you persist in trying to do, well whatever it is you are trying to do, and I wish that you could understand that I am really not interested."
He had his back to her, his breathing ragged with what she could only guess was tension.
"I found you a long time ago Justine, in another life. It's taken me this long to find you again in this life. We are soul mates, we have loved one another deeply, in our previous incarnations."
Justine had to clip the laughter that threatened to bubble up out of her throat.
"Devin, I do not feel as you do, I love Patrick, I have given my heart to him. You can't change that, nor can I."
He turned to face her, a tear slowly creeping out of his left eye, another already running down his cheek. His eyes were full of hurt, imploring for her understanding.
"Then tell me to leave and I will go." His voice was somber, while being challenging.
"Leave Devin." Her words flowed out simply with no thought behind them. He stared at her as if she had slipped a dull bladed dagger into his heart. He continued to stare at her, loving her, hating her cruelty.
"Fine."
When he turned to go, Justine felt a quiet moment of success. He slowly, calmly proceeded to the front door. He turned to stare at her as his hand rested on the door knob. There was accusation and what appeared to be genuine hurt in his eyes. Then he lunged.
His movement was so swift in the short space, that Justine had time to only jump back. He was upon her in less than a second, his mouth crashing down greedily toward her face. His hand coiled into her hair ruthlessly. She struggled to evade his lips, she jerked back, but he only came after her that much harder. With an instinct all women carry with them from the time of their birth she tried to shove her knee into his crotch, but as if he had read her mind, he easily blocked her knee with his own. His mouth landed on hers, capturing her lips bruisingly, impatiently. She yelped, her voice blending with the moan he loudly emitted. The moan turned into a howl as she brought her teeth down into his tongue. He jerked back, staring at her with a rage that seemed like it could kill with only a glance.
Patrick stood in the doorway, keys in hand. Everything was moving too fast when Patrick awoke like the statue of a warrior morphing into life. He charged Devin with a force that sent both men sprawling over the dinning room table. Justine watched in dismay, proud of Patrick's ferocity, fearful of his dangerous aggression. Devin's only defense was to try to block Patrick's fist by putting his hands in front of his own face as Patrick's fist plowed into his nose.
Lifting him up by the collar, Patrick glowered in his face,
"Die damn it! Leave her alone!" Patrick pulled Devin to his feet, the heat in his eyes foreign and frightening to Justine. Sweat dripped from his brow as his held Devin up by his collar.
"You see her? Do you?"
Both eyes locked onto Justine, who suddenly felt so miserably small.
"She's mine. Not yours! Get it? Mine!"
Patrick dragged Devin to the door, his white shirt covered in Devin's blood. He violently shoved Devin against the wall as he opened up the front door.
"I'll fucking kill you if you come back, do you understand that? I'll kill you." Patrick physically tossed Devin out the front door. Devin landed on his knees and glared at Patrick like a rabid dog.
"Patrick, your ass is mine brother. I'll see you on the battle field of my choosing. I look forward…" Before Devin could stand or finish speaking Patrick kicked him viscously in the gut. Quickly Patrick grabbed Devin's wallet out of his back pocket.
"Are you robbing me?" Devin's voice sounded incredulous.
"Devin Pagolia." Patrick spat, his eyes glowing with steam. He threw the wallet at Devin and walked back into the apartment before he slammed the door closed, leaving Devin to sputter on the cement walk way.
Justine stared at Patrick, her eyes bright with the shock of his violence. His voice was still
raised and gasping unevenly when he pointed a finger at her.
"Tomorrow after work, we will go to the police station and you will file a restraining order against him."
Justine turned away and headed for the stairs that would take her to the safety of her bedroom. Patrick was quickly behind her, on her heals. Justine sat on the bed, putting her face into her hands, wondering why the tears would not come.
The heat and energy that seemed to emanate from Patrick in vehement waves rushed over Justine, caressing her cynically. While she silently watched him through sad, frightened eyes, he paced around the small space like a trapped cat.
"Patrick," Her soft voice seemed to break into his adrenalized mind.
"What?" He roared at her. She cringed from the sound and stabbed somber, exhausted eyes into him.
"Go home." He stopped short of his next stride.
"I am home." His voice was rebellious and belligerent.
"Not like this you aren't."
"What?" His voice echoed off the walls, his eyes glued onto her face in defeated bewilderment.
Justine knew that her anger was unjustified. She knew that her fear of him was unnecessary, and yet without knowing why it persisted in wanting him gone.
"Leave."
"Why?" The shock overcame the anger.
"Because I asked you to." Her voice was so small and steel to his ears, his heart seemed to disintegrate into ugly, empty blackness.
"Justine." His voice was imploring, beseeching.
"Get out." His anger was contagious it seemed, seeping into her flesh as her voice rose shrilly.
The torn sadness reflecting in his eyes, he turned to go. Justine miserably watched him go as her heart cracked into a million pieces. The agony finally weighed her down completely as she put her face into her hands and wept. She cried for her mother, for Patrick, for herself. Her heart seemed to bleed endlessly.
Justine wasn't sure how much time had passed when his voice broke through her sorrow.
"Justine, I can't leave you here alone. If you hate me, I'll sleep down stairs on the couch, but in all good conscience, I can't leave you here alone."
That was it. That was all it took. With what she hoped wasn't weakness, she flew into his arms, her lips running endless, rapid kisses over her face.
With a breathy voice she spoke,
"Patrick, I don't hate you, I could never hate you. I love you. I love you so much. I don't know why I asked you to leave…"
He placed his finger on her soft lips.
"No more words tonight Justine, just let me love you."
The two of them collapsed on her bed in each other's arms. They made love with a grace that was only shared between those of a great love. He drove her to new depths, as he surrendered every piece of himself to her. Their love was quiet but full of soul felt longing, clinging, desire tempered caresses, a wholeness that brought the two of them together in a way that was binding and endless. The physical marriage of lovers.
*****
Team Spectrum was quietly settled into Lawrence Washington Elementary School. Their typical set up of infrared cameras, bleeping monitors and audio devices seemed completely out of place in the run down, classic school.
To Justine's surprise and amazement, Conroy had indeed handed out Walkie Talkies to each member of the team with a speech about how Justine had brought up a necessity that would from then on, be required on any inside investigation or extended piece of land. Justine had been so delighted; she had unabashedly thrown her arms tightly around Conroy and kissed his cheek before thanking him graciously. The rest of the team was happy with the new rule and equipment as well.
Unfortunately, Lawrence Washington
Elementary had turned out to be somewhat of a disappointment to the associates of Spectrum. Other than the cafeteria and kitchen, most of the school was indeed void of any activity or what was considered a predominately dead cell. However Claudia had excitedly shared an eerily creeping recording from the third floor of children singing happily in the wide hall right before the broad staircase. The basement had proven another interesting phenomena as well, one that was totally unexpected by the team. The sounds of both sobbing and hysterical laughter emitted from what everyone guessed was the same adult, male voice, were very clearly heard in the boiler room.
At the end of the second day, Conroy announced that Spectrum was done investigating the school and would not return for the third day that they had planned on. Instead, they would spend the next two days analyzing the evidence that they had gotten and have a three day weekend. This sent everyone home in a much better mood than the previous day had.
Patrick had insisted on driving both he and Justine to work that day. While on the way home he smiled at her easily, before asking.
"So your place or mine?"
"Doesn't matter, do you have any food, I need to go grocery shopping so badly."
"I don't mean to eat babe, I mean to stay, to live." His voice was warm and smooth completely concealing his nerves.
Justine bit her lip and stared at him for a moment, she would have loved to have been able to act like she didn't know exactly what he meant, but she did. Her answer frightened her, she felt so unprepared.
He gave her a moment watching her squirm uncomfortably, but as the moment extended even longer with no answer from her, his nerves got the best of him.
"Okay, never mind, you're not ready yet. I'm sorry I keep pushing it." He attempted to keep his voice light and casual but Justine could hear the undertone of hurt and frustration. She looked up at him, forcing her lips to move, her voice to work.
"Mine." Amazingly, she realized that her voice was steady as she smiled at him.
"You mean it? You want to live together?" His voice was full of both delight and amazement.
"Yes, yes I do!" She started to throw her arms around him before reminding herself that he was trying to drive in rush hour traffic.
"That's great Justine! Mom will flip. She adores you, you know." His voice was alive with love.
"Does she really?'
"Oh yeah, you have no idea."
"Well good, because I think she's pretty wonderful too. She created you after all."
Patrick's mood changed so quickly, it surprised Justine.
"But first things first," he paused turning to look at her after stopping at a red light. "Right now we are going to go fill out a restraining order."
Justine simply sighed. She knew he was right; she should fill out a restraining order against Devin. She just hated the time it would take and the all the bureaucratic red tape that she would have to wade through.
Once they had finished the necessary paperwork, Justine realized it had been much easier than she thought it would have. The sergeant on duty explained to them that Devin would be notified of the restraining order on the next business day, which in this case would be tomorrow. It was a done deal, hopefully it would work.
The two of them laughed as Patrick pulled into the parking lot of the same small Italian Café' where the two of them had shared their very first meal together.
This is why I love him so much, she thought to herself. He thinks of all the important, but small things that matter. Patrick quickly whisked her into the darkened restaurant and ordered a bottle of Asti wine before Justine would have or could even object.
"Tonight, we celebrate." His eyes shined as he raised his glass in a high spirited toast.
"To us!" Justine said which as much fervor as Patrick felt.
It was times like this when Justine was able to forget the guilt she felt over her mother, to not worry about Devin or any of the other complications of the world. She wasn't quite sure exactly how she felt about Witchcraft yet, but she knew without a seconds doubt that Patrick was definitely magick.
And with that magick in mind the next few weeks seemed to blend into one another beautifully. It seemed as if the gods, or the superior being, or what ever you want to call it, were giving Justine and Patrick a moment of t
ranquil peace and times to treasure.
Justine surprised Patrick on his birthday with an incredible home made lasagna dinner, a lacy piece of lingerie meant for his eyes only and a tiny male Siamese kitten who would live with them in their home together. She was delighted when Patrick instantly took to the kitten that he immediately named Siam and began to spoil him instantly.
Two weeks later was the same weekend in which Patrick would officially move in with Justine and Alice would be released from the rehabilitation home. Alice still had not spoken to Justine on her two follow up visits, but the doctors had declared her competent, clean and sober. The lastingness of that statement didn't sit right in Justine's gut, but she had to accept their word and attempt to be optimistic about it. However, her mother had refused to allow Justine to give her a ride home, and Justine had been told via one of the nurses that Alice would take a taxi and see herself safely home on her own.
Patrick and Lila both told Justine not to stress it too much. It was probably a case of severe
embarrassment, and even if it was resentfulness towards Justine, that too would soon pass.
While Justine saw box after box unloaded from the small moving truck that Patrick had rented, she tried to keep her mind positive and busy, not allowing herself to think of her mother arriving home.
The day became even more tolerable when Sheryl stopped by to give the two of them a hand and happily shared their excitement with them. Justine was able to accept without a doubt that Sheryl held no hard feelings towards her and their lasting friendship hadn't suffered any. None of them had heard from Devin again.
Bearing two large pepperonis pizzas a cheerful Lila had arrived close to five in the evening offering both her services and the food. The four of them hungrily gobbled down the delicious brick oven pizzas with ice cold beers. Justine realized that not only did she love Patrick, but she loved his mother as well. She was so open minded, strong and easy going. Before Lila stood to leave, she presented both Justine and Patrick with a wonderful three foot tall sculpture of the god and goddess entwined at the legs and arms, their bodies meshing perfectly together forming one strong shape. Its black sheen shone brightly and seemed to silently animate the love and rapture that Justine and Patrick felt for one another. Lila gave out her hugs freely, even including a blushing Sheryl, before heading out for the night.
Journey of Souls (The Mortality Series) Page 19