by S. M. McCoy
My own weight was dragging me down; I couldn’t stand anymore. I knew my legs were about to fail me but my body wouldn’t make any action to prevent it or ease the transition. My eyes darted around. Searching.
Panicking—but not about the situation around me, as it should have, being in a swarm of panicking, screaming people.
It was about the situation within me.
I was falling.
“No pain…”
I was expecting a hard jolt to my body that might’ve woken me up from this dazed and unmoving state.
“We’ve got to go.” A gentle voice; the voice from my dreams, from my nightmares.
“An angel.” Opening my eyes, everything was blurry. All I saw was red pastels like the start to a water painting, everything drooping and falling into place, right where it’s supposed to be for the final strokes of the brush.
I strained against the weight of my arm to reach out. He winced as I touched his moist face.
Was he crying?
“If only.” He grabbed my hand from his face and continued to hold it to his chest. Burgundy waves expanded from my hand, and a soft glow swung back and forth from his neck like a pendulum. My eyelids closed from the weight and the screaming around me faded quickly.
From behind my lids, where all the shadows loomed I could see orange light emanating off of his body. He looked like a wolf, growling at having to deal with me. I sunk down into this thought, angry at myself for having to be saved from the serpents by an unknown beast, because only a beast would glow the way he did. He couldn’t be an angel.
Aislin’s yell for me sounded like a distant call fading behind me. I felt the wind soar through my hair and lick my skin like a cold stranger. I felt light in my state of heaviness like a rock thrown through the air just waiting to skip the surface of a lake below.
“Only?” If only I stopped breaking down, I wouldn’t need to trouble an angel to save me.
If only I knew where my mother was, maybe she knew how to hide the visions from the Council. If only my father was still around before I had a chance to ask him more about why life was the way it was for me. So weak, letting the whole world push me around like a tumbleweed in a vast empty desert.
I needed to get control over my body. I needed to…
I finally realized…I needed to live.
I couldn’t keep acting a lie.
I had to admit that I was different, that I was a part of a world that wanted me captured or dead. My teeth pulsed and my nerves fired off like fireworks. Sharp pinpricks cut my lip, and I winced. I wasn’t who I used to be anymore.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Angelic Drawn
Control seemed almost impossible to expect for myself, because I felt like I had none. There was an invisible power play going on around me and I didn’t know the rules of engagement, putting me at a disadvantage. My only hope at this point was that I could catch up and fight back before the surprise attacks took me down six feet under and with no shovel but my bare fingers to claw myself out.
“I need…” I startled awake; my eyes flew open and I jolted upright. Blinking several times, I tried to register where I was. Looking to the window, it was dark throughout the room. Long drapery with an ornate design flowed down from the ceiling, creating the illusion of a large window behind the delicate trimmings.
Scrunching my hands through my hair, it was probably not my best look. The best that I could hope for was that it was wild but not an ’80s big, hairspray, and tease mistake.
Was I dreaming?
“Would you like some more light?” the smoothness of a man’s voice asked. That voice…and my hair was a mess. Why couldn’t I be more presentable in my own dreams when meeting the guy attached to that voice? I remembered him—he was the shadow that told me the Council was after me.
I looked around some more to see where he was. His voice was alarmingly calming. It was confusing but I was not frightened, unless I counted the fear of my vanity. I tried to tame the mane with a quick finger combing. The place felt too familiar to be afraid. Like when smelling pumpkin bread at Christmastime, the place smelled of cinnamon and sugar.
“Yes.” It was all I could muster. No other words would release from my throat.
“Of course.” A rush of wind brushed past me and the curtains opened flooding in the light from the outside into the room.
Like magic.
One blink they were closed, and the next, open.
I didn’t remember much about my past since the memory loss and blackouts started. But in the beginning, such things as magic would have been impossible for me to believe in. I believed in something again—I supposed that was a start. And that would be a big step for me even if it was Wiccan magic, vampires, and familiar strangers.
Familiar. I couldn’t shake this feeling that I was here, right now, because of my mother. Because I pulled her death certificate information, because I left them an address. I had to know if he knew about that.
“Where are you?” In seconds I felt his cool breath on my neck. I turned around and his hands held me in place. As if protecting me, not forceful but gentle. Keeping me from looking at him.
“Don’t turn around.” It was abrupt, almost threatening in tone. He paused. “Please.” Something told me he didn’t have guests over very often and it made him uncomfortable.
Funny, since I remarkably felt more comfortable and calm about the whole thing than he did. He released my shoulders. Preventing me from turning around, I thought about that a bit more, was he…protecting me from himself?
“How long was I out?” I remained still, frozen, in place.
“Not long.” He stepped closer; his body touched mine, a shiver ran down my torso, into my fingertips. So close I could smell him, like fresh linen pulled from the dryer. Inhaling the smell with a deep breath, I murmured my discovery: “Fresh linen.” Gathering my thoughts again, I returned to questioning. “Hours?”
I waited for a response, nothing, so gulping for air I drew out the time longer still.
“A day?”
All I felt was the cold air on my skin. No response again. How long was I out for?
“More?” I asked exasperated.
“Weeks.” His arms wrapped around me in anticipation of me spinning around and pounding him with questions. But all I did was stare out the window.
In shock. That was becoming a habit I didn’t appreciate.
“More than a week.” My legs were jelly and giving out. I would have fallen if it weren’t for his arms holding me to his body keeping me upright. “Did you…?”
He interrupted my question. “No.”
I was weak and the only strength I felt in me was that I knew I was ready to hear the truth, the real truth about what was going on. Suffice it to say I had enough of being the rag doll being thrown from one so-called protector to the next. Not much good Aislin’s protection spell did me.
I continued to clarify: “Drugs?” One could say I was trying to be optimistic about it. Drugs would be a super simple solution.
“No.”
I wasn’t that lucky I guess. The next best thing would be if I was crazy and this was all a hallucination. For all I knew even he wasn’t here, just my imagination. Unfortunately, he felt so real.
His breath lingering on my neck, his lungs rising and falling against my back, those firm arms holding mine stiff, and even the wind from the window moved the curtains, light whipping at the walls. Everything was too detailed…I wasn’t a detail person. I wouldn’t know all those little things without looking at them. And I didn’t really have the best track record for memory, but I asked anyway…it was, after all, the next best solution.
“Head trauma?”
“No.”
Feeling like my luck had to be out I went for all the answers a normal person wouldn’t ask about. With how things were going, I couldn’t rule it all out yet.
“Voodoo?”
“No.” A slight chuckle escaped his lips. It was nice to h
ear him smile, even if I didn’t get to see it for myself.
“Magic?”
I waited for him to chuckle again, hoped that he would chuckle again. But that time, he didn’t. He paused and his breathing was heavy like he was weighted down with a hard truth. I struggled to deny it, but he had to keep the status quo and said, “No.”
I wanted to let it go, to believe him, but this time wasn’t the same as the other times he had said no. It was off, it was like he was lying to me. My aching muscles filled with resentment he was a horrible liar. They clenched because I wanted him to be telling me the truth, I didn’t want it to involve magic.
Most people would be grateful that someone was amateur at lying and easily seen through. I wasn’t most people. I wanted to live out my life in blissful ignorance. I didn’t want any of this stuff to be happening to me. Being invisible felt like a good option right then, but I just had to press the button…in 3…2…1… Go.
“No magic?”
His muscles matched my intensity, I could feel his abs flex against me.
“Not really.” He answered nonchalantly. Too nonchalantly, unrealistic and totally hiding-something-from-me type nonchalantly.
“Not really?” I pushed, because as much as I didn’t want to know the truth, I needed it.
He was avoiding something. What was he getting out of this whole thing? Why bring me here and not tell me why? Considering I was probably in the middle of nowhere, I didn’t see any other buildings out the window. Which was strange for New York—we’d be able to see plenty of lights and buildings, it was a community of brick and mortar packed with people. But there wasn’t any buildings out the window. Only sky, and big rocks off in the distance.
Then it hit me: He couldn’t tell me things without risking the fact that I wouldn’t be returned… He’d have to kill me, right? That’s how it worked in movies. As long as you don’t see their face and you don’t know much they can get their reward and still return you as you were…more or less.
I was abducted.
I was kidnapped and I’d been with him for weeks. I looked down at myself. But what did he get out of it? I had nothing…I didn’t know anyone who had anything to leverage me for, either. I was overall a really bad pick for kidnapping, not that valuable.
The weirdest part of it all was…I felt fine. Aside from the wobbly legs. And then the only thought that came to my mind at that moment after thinking of leverages, money…valuables…my dress, it was the most expensive thing I had.
I didn’t think he was like that. I felt the opposite of scared around him. He held me and I felt strangely safe.
Protected.
But that’s how an abductor would want you to feel.
“It’s hanging up. The material was not created for comfort.” He sensed my question before I even asked it. Then I wanted to smack my head, of course he did, I was feeling up the soft fabric on my skin and looking around aimlessly. I couldn’t even stay on one train of thought…any thought other than the one pointing in the background was good enough for me.
“Silk…” I touched the fabric of the nightgown I was wearing. It felt wonderful.
“Yes.” He released his hold on me probably noticing that mere moment where I twitched to move away from him. Next thing I knew I felt the air beneath me and then a cushion as I sat on the bed. He was gone. I dug my hands into the cushions not wanting to reappear somewhere else in the room without notice. I tried to breathe, but the air stung my lungs.
My mind lingered on the weeks I’d been here passed out and then another thought crossed my mind as I wondered why he suddenly just disappeared…I must’ve smelled horrid. Unless… Please no!
“I need to shower. I feel awful.” I stood up and fell back down on the bed.
“A bath might be better,” he suggested and I could almost hear a blush in his voice and it made my cheeks heat at the thought that he might have already seen…well everything. I was embarrassed, which was odd considering that I changed in front of people all the time for costumes and dancing.
I heard the water running in what I assumed was the bathroom.
“I want to see you,” I whispered, not thinking he’d be able to hear me. Hoping that he didn’t because despite my curiosity, knowing what he looked like was guaranteed to get me killed in most scenarios floating in my head right now.
His breath caressed my ear and he whispered back to me, “Not yet.”
“When?” I couldn’t keep the eagerness out of my voice… He was who I was looking for. He could be the key to finding the answers or even finding my mom. Maybe he was sent here by her to find me.
“Tonight.”
I turned around to see him and he was gone somewhere in the shadows of the room. Why was he waiting to show himself? Then I thought about the kidnapping scenario again. Most of them wore masks, right? And even one show said something about some kidnappers wear masks because the victim knows them. Maybe I’d seen him before somewhere? But I would recognize the voice anywhere, wouldn’t I?
He said tonight… What was going to happen tonight? What did that mean?
I stood up and walked to the bathroom. It was a studio like place and it was the only place that seemed like at the very least I could lock myself inside of it without him. A green velvet dress hung on the back of the door. It was beautiful. I ran my hand down the fabric and it was soft like a sophisticated fuzzy blanket that I could curl up on for comfort.
“Special occasion?” I stepped to the bath and checked the water.
“Just you.” He closed the door like a phantom. Felt like he was in the room but I didn’t even see him leave, let alone close the door.
“You’ve probably seen already but please don’t spy.” I checked behind the long window curtains first.
“I haven’t.” His voice was thankfully behind the door, unless he was like a ventriloquist to throw his voice. I closed my eyes. I wanted to stay blissfully unaware if that was the case.
If he was going to kill me, he would have done it already. And strangely, every time I felt anxious, or even angry, it all just floated away. Almost as soon as it came.
It would build within me like a deep burning at the pit of my stomach, in the core of my heart, and then dissipate. I couldn’t decide how I felt about the situation, so I did the only logical thing to me at the time: focus on my needs. I needed to be alone, and there seemed to be only one other room in the studio-esque castle, a bathroom. I was probably nose-blind to weeks of grime built up on my body. If he didn’t take care of it himself while I was unconscious. I shivered at the thought as I waited for the water to fill.
I sniffed a bottle next to the tub, lavender. Indulging, I poured more than an adequate amount into the porcelain bucket. The silk night robe slipped off with a simple tug of a few strategic strings. The only mirror in the room was covered by a curtain and it made me uncomfortable. Before I could even let the feeling fester I opened the fabric up, tying the accordion to the side.
Pale, unhealthy, and bruised. I pulled the fancy rope’s tie I made to release the fabric back over the mirror. The tub was full, and the water was warm. Suds from the lavender liquid make the surface milky. I ran my fingers through it before easing myself into its depths.
“You don’t happen to have a hobby with puppets, do you?” No throwing of voices making me think he’s outside when he’s inside.
“No.”
“Good.” I dunked into the water and scrubbed my hair with the shampoo set out.
“Do you usually ask such odd questions?”
I mean he was right, the only logical question I’d asked so far was how long I’d been there, but at that very moment I tried to rationalize the thought process.
“Well if I asked deeper questions, would you have answered them?”
He became silent.
“I thought so.” I continued, then rinsed my hair out.
“Some of them,” he responded after some delay.
“Some? You don’t even know whic
h questions I’d ask.” I didn’t even know what questions I’d ask, not really. Only thing that popped into my mind right away was who was he, and did he know my mother?
“Then why don’t you ask them and find out. But for every question you ask I get two in return.” This wasn’t a game, but here he was playing tit for tat. What could he possibly want to ask of me?
“Only if you answer honestly.” Even if he did answer honestly, I wasn’t sure I was in a position to actually believe anything he said.
“How would you know?” That was true…
“I guess I wouldn’t. That’s one.”
“One?”
“Yes, one question answered. And that makes two. Now my turn.”
“Tricky.”
“Shhh, no more questions until I ask mine.” Now this had to be good. I couldn’t waste questions. Especially since he was bent on skewing the odds.
I sank into the water, letting it absorb me and drowning out the surroundings. If it weren’t for how big the tub was I would have thought I was with Aislin, and when I popped up she would be doing her makeup at the vanity. I looked around and it was anything but what came to be known as my home.
I let him wait at the door for me to ask my question, as I finished my bath and soaked with my eyes closed. Just to have a moment of suspended time.
I took the dress from the door and put it on. Then, I knelt at the door, pressing my hand to it knowing he was probably on the other side.
“Why am I here?” I closed my eyes and leaned my head on the large door.
“To keep you safe.” His voice was at the same level as mine. He must’ve been sitting on the other side like I was.
“If you don’t elaborate then I don’t have to elaborate on mine either.”
“Should you really be the one making the demands?”