Tainted Blood

by S S Bazinet

  “William, why are you here?”

  “Rolphe?”

  “Yes?”

  William hesitated, not knowing what to say.

  Rolphe gestured for him to come closer. “Tell me how you’re doing. I’ve been worried about you.”

  William still couldn’t reply. It had only been a few days since he’d last seen Rolphe, but the man had transformed in that small space of time. A thought came to mind. Rolphe might have shape-shifting abilities. But whatever the explanation, Rolphe’s strong body was gone, replaced by one that looked wasted and gaunt. His dark eyes were still intense, but they seemed out of place in a face that was sunken and devoid of any color.

  Rolphe looked away and straightened his blanket a little. “Sorry, I know I’m not looking my best—”

  William came closer but stopped a couple of feet from the bed.

  Rolphe continued to study his bedclothes. “It’s alright. I’m not contagious, just unwell.”

  “You seemed fine when you visited me.”

  Rolphe started to laugh and ended up coughing. “I shouldn’t have gone to London. It was wrong of me to think that you and I might—” Rolphe kept his eyes averted. “Never mind.”

  William scowled back. His intention in coming to Paris was to get answers. Even if Arel wasn’t a role model, he realized that Rolphe was someone he’d admired.

  Rolphe sighed. “I remember the first time I saw you. You were sitting in that drinking house, staring at me. For some reason, I thought you were special. I was disappointed, even angry, when you approached me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because when I took a closer look at you, I knew you were like me. And that made me want to destroy you.”

  “How was I like you?”

  “You’d already let the world ruin you just like I let it ruin me.”

  “Don’t talk in riddles.”

  “I tried to explain myself when I saw you last.”

  “Let’s not discuss your military service again. Just tell me why you gave me your blood?”

  “Yes, what a surprise. I hadn’t expected to ever pass on the damnable stuff. But weak as you were, you were still tenacious. I foolishly gave in to a dying man’s wish.”

  “Is that it? I was just another person—”

  “Yes, you were a cocky fool who didn’t have the good sense to value your life.”

  “I saw something in you—”

  “Then you were more ignorant than I thought.”

  William’s face hardened with disappointment. “I can’t believe I came here thinking you might have something to offer me now.”

  “But I do have something you want!” Rolphe insisted in a raspy voice.

  “Like what?” William demanded.

  Rolphe’s head jerked up so fast that William jumped back. His heart pounded out a warning. He needed to leave at once, but he couldn’t make his body move. Rolphe’s eyes had already immobilized him. They’d become two powerful lasers, boring into him, robbing him of his strength, leaving him cold and shaking.

  “Come here, boy!” Rolphe ordered.

  William’s physical vehicle trembled more violently, too weak to resist what was happening. No matter how hard he tried to regain control, he staggered over to the bed. He ended up so close to Rolphe that he felt the hateful man’s hot, heavy breath warming the space between them.

  Rolphe grabbed hold of William’s arm. His bony fingers clamped down hard, and William almost cried out. He had flashes of being a helpless child again, a little boy in the hands of his father. Hatred and rage filled his bones, but he still couldn’t move or look away.

  Rolphe’s heartless eyes held him in place, becoming cold, merciless instruments, cutting through William’s weakened defenses.

  “Do you think you can come here, wanting something?” Rolphe bellowed out.

  Rolphe’s voice thundered around William. It became a stormy vehicle that plucked William out of the moment and sent him hurling into the past. The thick walls that protected his sense of identity crumbled completely. There was nothing to stop his return to the most painful day in his childhood. When he looked around him, he wasn’t in Rolphe’s bedroom anymore.

  * * * * *

  William stood in a beautiful section of his father’s estate. A flourishing stand of woods bordered rolling hills. But none of the beauty around him could stop his small child’s body from shaking. Tears were streaming down his face as he looked up at the man who wanted to destroy everything that he loved.

  The man was a hunter who sat astride a massive brute of a horse, one that was strong enough to carry the man’s excessive weight over fences and hedges. Perched high in his saddle, this man thought himself above the rest of the world. His steely-blue eyes surveyed everything from a predator’s viewpoint. He took great pleasure in tracking down the animals and birds that young William tried to protect.

  And that day had been a successful one from a hunter’s point of view. Young William had heard the hounds as they closed in on their prey. His young heart and mind were still replaying the horrific screams of a favorite fox. It had just been torn to shreds by his father’s hounds. Now, he pleaded for mercy on behalf of the ones that remained. “Please, sir, don’t hunt my foxes!”

  His father’s response was mocking and cruel. “Your foxes?” his father roared back. “Everything on this land belongs to me! And I’ll do as I please, hunting down every last one of those animals you’re always visiting. I promise you, I’ll have my hounds tear them limb from limb. And as for you, you’ll stop your sniveling. I won’t have a whiner for a son!”

  It was the most devastating moment of William’s young life. His father’s words were branding irons, searing his body and his heart. But as he tried to remain upright and withstand the pain, he realized his father wasn’t finished with him.

  His father dismounted and strode over to where he stood. The man’s face contorted into a vicious smile as he spoke. “It’s time for you to grow up. Do you understand me?”

  William started to step back, but his father’s big, meaty hand snatched him up before he could retreat. He struggled in his father’s clutches, but the man was as strong as one of his prize bulls. He held William in place with ease, practically lifting him off his feet.

  His father’s sneer widened. “I asked you a question, William, my boy. And you better come up with the right answer, or I’ll burn these woods to the ground. No living creature will escape my wrath.”

  William suddenly understood what his father wanted. But he also knew that if he gave in, the price would be damning. The woodlands would be safe, but everything he was, everything that defined him would be burnt to the ground. His soul would be torn apart as surely as his foxes were torn apart by the dogs. But what choice did he have? In the end, his father would have his way, and no matter what William did, he was just a child, a child who was dangling in his father’s clutches.

  Instead of continuing to fight his father, he suddenly went still. His world went quiet. All that he could hear was the sound of a door slamming shut, a door that he’d never open again, a door that housed all the pain that came from being a weakling, a little boy who had no power in his life.

  When the sound of the world returned, his father was laughing as he mounted his horse. His hunting cronies were laughing too. They all stared down at William with a look of triumph. One of them was patting his father’s shoulder, congratulating him with a contented statement. “It’s time to set the young pup straight. It’s time for him to act like your son.”

  As the vision faded, William came back to Rolphe’s bedroom. Rolphe had released him, but he felt too weak to move away. All he could do was target Rolphe with his wrath and anger. If he’d had the strength, he might have killed Rolphe for what the man had done. It would have been justifiable. Rolphe had made him relive something unbearable.

  “I’m sorry, William,” Rolphe whispered. “But you have to understand why you were drawn to me. Ever since you were a boy,
you needed something to best your father, something stronger and more powerful than he was. You thought I was that something. But your father was nothing, just like I was nothing. When a person loses the ability to feel, he becomes a shell, an empty vessel that feeds off of others.”

  William managed to stand up straighter. “How did you know about my father or what happened when I was a child?”

  Rolphe sank back, looking wasted again. “I see it all now. Once I opened the door to my past, it’s as if the pain of the world was waiting to show itself to me. All the pain you’re in. Arel’s pain. My own.”

  William’s voice was raspy and thin. “I never asked you to feel anything.”

  Rolphe returned a look of kindness. “Go back to London, William. Forget about your vision if you want. But remember that child who’s still inside of you. He’s the answer, not me.”

  William turned and left the room, wanting to return home as Rolphe suggested. But he only managed to get as far as Rolphe’s second bedroom. After what he’d just gone through, his body was failing. He collapsed on the bed and fell asleep immediately.

  * * * * *

  When William woke up, his body was sluggish, as if he’d been slumbering for a month. His mind wasn’t working properly either. He was having difficulty thinking clearly. He glanced around and finally remembered that he was in Rolphe’s spare bedroom.

  But William wasn’t alone. A young man was sitting on a chair in the corner. He looked like a younger version of William. This younger version had visited him before. “Not you again,” William moaned.

  Young Will smiled. “You keep pushing me away, but you know it’s not going to happen. It’s like trying to dam up the blood in your body. The only thing you’re doing is hurting yourself.”

  “Go, now!”

  “No.”

  William stared back, watching his visitor fade in and out. “Oh hell, I’m still dreaming.” He tried to wake himself up, but nothing worked. Even more aggravating was the fact that he couldn’t get rid of his visitor. “What do you want?” he demanded.

  “You pushed me out of your life, or at least you thought you did. But you made a mistake. You need me.”

  “Why? So I can get my heart ripped to shreds again?”

  “I won’t let go, William. Is that clear? You might not like it, but you can’t dispose of the part of you that houses your spirit.”

  “I see. That damnable angelic blood that has hold of me has an agenda.”

  “You created this situation long before you got Rolphe’s blood or angelic blood. So forget all that. You have a choice again, just like you had a choice that day you believed your father had the power to destroy you.”

  William recoiled as the memory of his father’s face loomed over him again, targeting him with greedy eyes. They were the same eyes that targeted a bird in flight just before his father’s shotgun blew the bird out of the sky. William swallowed the hard lump in his throat. “Let’s not go there.”

  “I’m not the one who won’t let it go!” Young Will yelled.

  “Are you saying I’m holding on to it? It’s not like that. The damn memory won’t let me go, just like you won’t let me go!”

  “Why should I? I was just a little boy, but you chose father over me! You left me! And you never even looked back! You became just like him! Totally cold and calculating!”

  “I did what I did to survive! Don’t you get that? That man owned me!”

  Young Will glared back at him. “No, you gave yourself away! You gave me away! Why didn’t you fight for me like you fought for the foxes!”

  “Fight? For what? You’re nothing! In a world of men who only know how to take whatever they want, you don’t count!”

  Young Will’s blue eyes narrowed with disgust. “So that’s it. You’re a coward, William, a coward who sold himself, first to Father, then to Rolphe. No wonder you have nightmares!”

  The words were missiles that hit William with such a burning force that a sudden rage took over. The young man had gone too far with his insults, and William refused to tolerate his presence for another second.

  Forcing himself into a standing position, William stumbled over to where his dream visitor was sitting. The young man’s blue eyes were still so bright, so trusting that life could be good and beautiful. But William knew what a fool Young Will was. As a cold chill took hold of his body, he pointed at him with a stiff, trembling finger. His voice was heated, not only with anger, but with a wrath that wanted to tear the younger man apart, just as the hounds had torn apart the fox.

  “Let’s get something straight!” William hissed. “My father could have killed everything I loved! If I sold myself, then I did it to save something that couldn’t save itself!” He tried to shout out the words, but his voice had no volume in the dreamscape. It barely punctuated the silence.

  As Young Will faded and darkness descended on the room, the young man delivered one more message. “You’re forgetting something crucial with that kind of reasoning. You’ve always insisted that you were a free man, William. Yet, even as an adult, you’ve acted as if you were Rolphe’s and Father’s victim.”

  Thirty-Seven

  IT WAS A BREEZY, cold day as Elise walked back home. She’d just dropped off Freddie at Peggy’s house. Her friend had generously volunteered to watch the puppy while Elise went away for the day. As she passed by Arel’s house, he came out to join her. She paused as he came down the porch steps and walked over to her.

  Ever since Arel had called her the day before, she’d thought about the first few words he’d said to her. “If you still want me—”

  She couldn’t get the phrase out of her mind. When she asked herself why, the answer was simple. She hoped they could start over. She knew that didn’t include dating. She wasn’t Arel’s type. And even if she was, Arel made it clear that he wasn’t ready for another relationship. Still, there was something very special about him. He was a little like Carey and Michael, very considerate and kind. She’d settle for friendship.

  As they walked the short distance to her house, she wanted to get to know him better. “So, are you ready for an adventure?” she asked. “Annabel and Carey seem excited about the trip. They’re even making sandwiches to take along.”

  Arel smiled. “That’s a good idea. Carey’s appetite doubles as soon as he even thinks about a trip in a car.”

  “He’s such a sweet guy. We started talking one day when I was getting my mail. After that, he and Michael volunteered to help me with my novel. I didn’t think they’d be up for the job, but they surprised me. They seem to know a lot about human nature.”

  Arel scowled back. “Yes, they surprise me too.”

  Elise hesitated when they got to her yard. “How about you, Arel? Do you spend much time contemplating what makes people tick?”

  Arel shrugged. “Do you?”

  “Of course, a writer has to know how people are going to interact in different circumstances. My real problem was that I never figured out what I’m about. Well, that’s not completely true. I knew enough to stop letting men take advantage of me. But I got stuck in a rut over time. That’s when we met.”

  Arel eased over her statement. “Yes, but that’s behind you now, and you have a house to find.”

  Elise hurried up the porch stairs. “Yes, in fact I rented an SUV for the day so we won’t be crowded. But before we leave, I better check on Annabel and Carey. Hopefully, they’re ready with their picnic basket of goodies.”

  * * * * *

  Arel rode in the passenger seat of Elise’s rental car. Annabel and Carey were in the back seat. Arel was reminded of his trip to New York and his reunion with William. So much had happened since that trip. It seemed to belong to another lifetime. Now, Arel’s only goal was to relax, to learn to enjoy the moment like Michael suggested.

  The group he was with seemed to have a similar goal in mind. Elise, Annabel and Carey were all animated and chatty as they discussed the town they were going to visit. Their happy bant
er agreed with Arel. He’d closed his eyes a few minutes into the conversation and allowed his mind to drift aimlessly. It was what he needed. After the disaster with Claire, thinking was prohibited.

  Riding along with friends who were enjoying themselves, Arel was surprised. Life felt so simple, so easy. Of course, one of those friends was also an angel. But Carey wasn’t letting his angelic origins interfere with his sense of entertainment and fun. He contributed more than his share of stories and even jokes that made the others laugh.

  The cheerful atmosphere made Arel realize what a strain he’d been under since Claire came into his life. Claire’s attitude was centered around life being serious. The idea of a joke was almost offensive to her stern outlook. Upon reflection, Arel had to admit that he too had been overly serious most of his life.

  Even now, he wasn’t taking part in any of the camaraderie around him. He wanted to be just as happy as the next person, but he didn’t know how. Had he lost his sense of humor or was it possible that he’d never had one?

  The only person who laughed when he was growing up was his brother. Aldwin wasn’t the typical English gentleman. Although he acted within the rules and regulations required by his station, behind the scenes, he could be funny.

  One of Arel’s first happy memories took place when he was quite young and Aldwin tickled him. When his brother made him laugh, Arel started to apologize. That’s when Aldwin tickled him again, and Arel gave in to simply being happy. But for most of Arel’s life, there never seemed to be a reason to laugh so spontaneously. He used to joke around with William in their early, university days, but there was a mocking quality to their amusement. And recently, when they talked, neither seemed able to achieve any genuine sense of levity.

  That was one of the reasons for Arel keeping their conversations short. He’d been having a tough time in the relationship department, and William was going through a very rough patch too. But William made it clear that he wanted no interference. Arel knew it was probably a sound decision. Arel’s track record wasn’t a good one. He didn’t want to end up making things worse again. Fortunately, Raphael would be there for William. Arel hoped that was enough.