by J G Barber
He responds with a blank stare that turns into terror as he understands she’s prepared to kill him.
“Paul, you crossed the line last night. I can’t deny it any more. There’s some kind of entity acting through you. Whatever it is, my well being and the health of our child are not its priority. If it threatens me again, I will defend myself with deadly force.”
Paul takes a few steps toward the patio door in case he has to run for it. “I, I can’t explain what happened last night. I’m not sure I even remember.”
She tightens her grip on the knife, resisting the temptation to plunge it into his gut with all her will. His body language tells her he does not understand what she’s talking about. She slides the knife in her pockets and claps her hands. “Paul, wake up. You have lost control. You practically raped me last night. Do you realize that?”
Her words punch him in the gut. “I tried to rape you?” He remembers the dream-memory where Erik and Lorelei attacked each other in the 16 century inn. “My God. Laura, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t conscious of my actions.”
He takes a step toward her. She holds up the knife. Paul backs away and continues. “There have been moments. It felt like something—someone—that wasn’t me. It was like memories from another life. Whatever it is, I think it’s trying to tell me something.”
“I’m going to figure this out,” she states with warrior intent. “You need to stay at a hotel while your L.A. people are in town. I will not allow you near me again with alcohol in your system.”
“I’ve kept my promise,” he says in a pathetic attempt to defend his honor. Her piercing blue eyes pull the truth out of him. “Except for yesterday. And the kickoff dinner with Lorelei.”
Hearing Lorelei’s name sets off Laura’s rage. She shakes the knife at him. “Pack your bags and get out.” He doesn’t move. She holds the knife ready and positions her body to attack. “Get your shit and get the fuck out. Now.”
Chapter Twelve
Historic Seattle meets 21st century in this high-tech, downtown hotel for business travelers. The valet opens the door of Lorelei’s black Mercedes limo. “Welcome to Seattle. Fastest growing city in the country,” Paul says to his guests. The New Century crew piles out after him, all dressed in their unique failed attempts at Northwest business casual.
Donald is first on his feet. He takes Monica’s hand to help her slither out of the limo. Her assets are more contained than normal, but her Hollywood sunglasses give away she’s a SoCal girl. “I ID’ed all the hot clubs on Sin Finder,” she says. “We can walk to most of them from here.”
Elmo checks out the surroundings. Vehicles, pedestrians, cranes and construction sites in every direction. “Sweet.”
Dandridge struggles his way out last. Monica wraps an arm around his waist. “No I’m too old for this from you, Hal. You’re gonna party with us.” He pulls away from her and leads the way through the revolving door.
Paul tips the bellman as he loads their bags onto a cart and follows the crew inside. “Lunch at the office. Meet through the afternoon. Then we’ll swing back here to freshen up. Dinner’s at seven.”
Monica scans the lobby and connected bar as the men check in. She wiggles up close to Paul. “Where’s Lorelei?”
Paul enjoys the moment, amazed that her extra clothing does nothing to hide how she moves or the curves of her body. “She’ll meet us at the office for lunch.” What did Lorelei call her? Club ho. I can’t wait to see that. “I’ll meet you here in the lobby in thirty,” he informs the crew.
“You staying at the hotel here with us?” Monica flirts. She unzips her jacket and invites him to look. Elmo rolls his eyes to Donald and Dandridge.
Aware of his audience, Paul keeps his eyes up. “Yes I am. I’m all yours this week, 24/7.”
“I might take you up on that,” she teases. Paul bolts for the elevator alone, without a word. Monica flips off the rest of the crew as they make fun of her failed seduction attempt. “I will fuck him,” she says to herself. “You just wait and see.”
Paul handles the week’s meetings like a master. He accomplishes every goal he outlined with Jerry, Art and Lorelei. Introductions to key ADMS staff on Monday afternoon. Detailed demos and functional reviews on Tuesday, where Donald and Monica see the wealth of features built into the ADMS platform. Technical deep dives on Wednesday, where Elmo sees under the covers to appreciate the true power of the ADMS platform to integrate with native applications and cloud services. Compliance reviews on Thursday, where Dandridge understands the care the ADMS team put into the platform’s legal and financial controls and reporting. Paul finishes on Friday with a driving tour of the Puget Sound entertainment technology scene encompassing Seattle, Bellevue and Redmond.
Every night offers a new culinary adventure for the crew. They precede Monday’s L.A.-Japanese mash-up at Tom Douglas’s Tanaka-san with a visit to the iconic Have A Heart cannabis shop. Tuesday’s dining experience takes them to Daniel’s Broiler in Leschi on Lake Washington for top grade Northwest steak. On Wednesday, they enjoy dinner in the round with the legendary 360-degree view of Puget Sound at the Space Needle. Thursday’s meetings end early to resupply at the Euphorium and take a tour of the Hollywood District and Woodinville Wine Country—including stops at several local distilleries to make sure Donald gets his tastes of small batch Washington whiskey—followed by the legendary slow dining experience at the Herbfarm, courtesy of Lorelei’s ability to get them reservations on short notice. After three and a half days of intensive business meetings and a Thursday night bender, the party starts at lunchtime Friday.
Liberated from his sobriety commitments to Laura, Paul holds nothing back, taking full advantage of the opportunity to indulge his old self and fulfill his commitment to Lorelei. Over the course of the week, he bonds with the crew. They are now more than colleagues. They are friends.
Laura spends the week alone, diving into her research. By Friday afternoon, she’s ready to review her notes and draw conclusions. “Spirit possession. Drug or alcohol abuse. The alcohol seems to be a major factor. Delves in occult practices. No, that’s my side of the family. Ancestral involvement with demonic practices, murder, pedophilia or other crimes against humanity. Feels like something intense happened there. Ancestral curses. I need to take another look at this.”
She types into her computer to revisit her search results. “His family is of English and Norwegian descent. He comes from a family of sailors. Siren bait.” Laura reads an article she hasn’t seen before.
“Ancestral curses can be passed down as a result of a deep, traumatic loss or emotional wound that the ancestor was unable to resolve. The intense, unresolved emotion is genetically and psychologically imprinted on the next generation. Over time, the incident or incidents that caused the trauma are forgotten, but their emotional legacy lives on, and the family is afflicted with a traumatic curse. This can result in generations of family dysfunction, addiction, and other self-destructive behaviors.”
“That makes sense. I’ve seen that ancestor in Paul’s eyes.” She reviews her notes about the Loreley myth and sirens. “A young maiden, grief-stricken over the loss of her one true love, drowns herself and becomes a siren. Psychological profile: her soul destroyed by the grief of a lost love, her need to regain control over her life drives her to avenge her beloved’s death. Why have sirens permeated Western culture in popular music and media? Why is there a secret mermaid society in Seattle? Maybe Paul’s dealing with a rich sociopath who associates with mermaid lovers and thinks she’s a siren. But why would he be susceptible? He doesn’t believe in that bullshit.”
She paces the room, explaining her conclusions to the bunny. “That’s the only explanation that makes sense. My husband is cursed with an attraction to sirens. How on Earth do I deal with this?” Laura’s mind fills with doubts. “What if Ellen’s right? What if I’m right? How do I protect our son and bring an end to this madness?” She steps up to the cage, looking to the bunny for an answer. The bunny wrigg
les his nose. “You’re right. I may have to leave him.”
Laura grabs her phone and calls Ellen, reaching her voicemail. “Hey. I need a place to stay until I figure things out with Paul. I’m coming over.” She grabs a bag of rabbit food and then packs her suitcase.
The limo drops off Paul and the crew in front of the palatial Palisade restaurant. Besides great food for the wealthy mariner set, the location offers breathtaking views of the marina, downtown Seattle, Alki Point and Mount Rainier. A pair of stone lions guards the entrance. Monica scratches the lions’ chins.
Once inside, the crew checks out the wood-paneled artistry and the picture window views. An elegant hostess approaches Paul. “New Century Digital Distribution,” Paul says. “Private party.”
“Right this way, Mr. Douglass.” Paul and Monica share the moment as they enjoy watching the hostess wiggle and sway across the koi pond bridge to their dining room. Monica winks to Paul.
The week together confirmed Paul’s suspicions that Monica and Lorelei have a relationship outside of their business dealings. But the nature of their relationship remains a mystery to him. Paul expects to find Lorelei waiting for them in their private dining room. It’s empty. “Isn’t Lorelei joining us?”
“She couldn’t make it tonight.” Monica hooks her right arm under his left elbow. “Party!”
As she leads Paul to take the seat next to her, he feels the electricity between them once again, rekindling the lust that’s been building inside him all week. As the week progressed, she’s made it a point to touch him, sit next to him, or snuggle up next to him in the limo. She’s driven his sexual desire to the brink of obsession.
Their server takes drink orders. She’s the second most beautiful woman in the place, after Monica. Monica catches him imagining what he would do with the server if given the chance. She elbows Paul as her eyes and smile invite him to act out his imagination with her. “What will you have, Mr. Douglass?” the server asks.
Paul’s eyes roll back in his head. He chooses his favorite drink to channel his lust. “Jack and coke. Make it a double.”
Monica lights up with a club ho’s glee. “Same here! All right, party people. Let’s get this party started!”
The crew responds in unison. “Party!” As they wait for the first round of drinks, the crew occupies themselves with a recap of their driving tour of Seattle, Bellevue and Redmond. They exchange observations of the difference between area and the L.A. Basin and compare notes on what they want to do together during their future business trips.
Paul congratulates himself. Mission accomplished. The server arrives with their order. Paul looks around the table as he remembers Lorelei’s words in L.A.: “It’s going to be irresponsible.” The image of Laura wielding a knife pops into Paul’s head to kill the moment. Her piercing blue eyes squelch his lust and evoke fear and guilt. I’m going to regret this one. He swallows his emotions with his drink.
After three rounds of drinks, appetizers, beer and wine, and dinner, Paul and the crew order another round of drinks to add to their Friday night buzz. The men revel in drunken banter. Monica grows restless.
“Paul. I want you.” Lorelei’s voice calls to him with a siren’s lure. Paul scans the main dining room.
“Earth to Paul.” Elmo’s voice pulls Paul’s focus back to the conversation.
Paul hears Lorelei again, as if she’s talking right next to him. “You know you want me.” He looks around the table. No one else can hear her. He glimpses Lorelei across the main dining room.
“Excuse me a moment.” Paul heads into the main dining room. He searches for Lorelei, to no avail. He finds his way to the men’s room. As he finishes at a urinal, he hears her again.
“Come to me, Paul.” He bolts for the sink and splashes water on his face, then exits the bathroom.
He collides with a tall woman. “I’m so sorry,” Paul says to her. Lorelei’s emerald green eyes stare back at him, penetrating his soul. He’s mesmerized.
A hand on Paul’s shoulder breaks the trance. “Pardon my friend, he’s drunk,” Donald says to the tall woman. She glares at Paul and departs. “You okay there, big guy?” Paul nods. Donald winks and goes into the bathroom.
Paul returns to the private dining room as the busboy clears the table. Monica intercepts him. “Come on, let’s go!” The crew heads back across the koi pond bridge. Paul catches another glimpse of Lorelei as exits the restaurant.
The crew piles into the limo and they depart for the club. Elmo opens a sealed tube and lights a joint. “This shit’s called LSD. It’s the perfect club high. Gotta warn you though, it comes on strong and then drags you down as the night goes on. We’ll need something later on to re-energize us.” He passes it around. Everyone takes a few turns.
They arrive at The Underground, an intimate trance techno club with state-of-the-art lighting and sound on a par with the top clubs. There’s a line outside that extends around the block. Monica leads them to the front door. A bouncer reacts to her approach, unlocking the velvet rope and ushering them inside.
Paul and the crew traverse a sea of dancing bodies and flashing lights. Monica leads them to a VIP table with bottle service already set up. They station themselves for part two of a Friday night party they won’t remember. Thumping dance music infuses their bodies with movement. Even Hal can’t resist the beat.
Paul fixes himself a cocktail and takes it all in as the LSD cannabis fires his brain into an audiovisual hallucinatory state. This is fucking awesome.
Monica grabs his hand and leads him onto the dance floor. She closes her eyes and grooves to the music. Paul watches her moves with a wasted smile. My god, what a body. He tries to find his rhythm as she grinds up against him in true club ho style. He’s too wasted to care about his visible, raging hard on.
Lorelei’s song penetrates the music and grabs his attention. His breath quickens as he sees her dancing alone amongst the sea of bodies, at one with the music. Her thin, skin-tight dress reveals her every curve and feature. She moves like a serpent, dangerous, alluring, wanton. She is irresistible.
Lorelei commands Monica with her eyes to rejoin the crew at the VIP table. Lorelei opens her arms and hands to invite Paul to join her. Her body in motion draws him in close. Paul surrenders to the beat and finds his rhythm with Lorelei. They dance in perfect motion with the music, a fully clothed act of making love.
Laura paces the living room of Ellen’s apartment. It’s a small place stuffed with bookshelves, occult artifacts and old furniture including a big comfy couch and a massive wood desk. Ellen sits in her oversized living room chair like a queen on her throne, studying Laura as she contemplates how to best wield her self-appointed authority.
“Dear sister,” Ellen proclaims. “As I’ve explained to you already, his possession has reached an advanced state. You are right to take steps.”
Laura plops on the couch. She twists her fingers in her lap. “I know he’s been going out drinking every night with those L.A. people. It’s the only explanation. He’s relapsed into addictive behavior and he’s not calling me out of shame. I did threaten to kill him last weekend. That could be a factor.”
Ellen knows about Paul’s past incidents in L.A. Just one item on her long list of reasons to hold her sister’s husband in contempt. “Is there a woman involved?”
Laura nods as she sorts through a stew of emotions: pride in what she’s figured out so far, a sadness that Paul disconnected from her, anger about his irresponsible behavior, fear that their marriage may be over, and the desire to wreak vengeance on the woman who’s destroying their lives. “Her name is Lorelei. She’s a new investor in ADMS, and she’s a siren. I’m sure she’s trying to seduce him.”
Ellen’s disdain of Paul turns into a toxic verbal spew. “Sirens are a myth. Maybe she’s a demon-possessed bitch that’s so busy fucking him with its demon dick that Paul is too full of demon seed to call you.”
Laura launches off the couch and gathers her things. “That’s it. I�
�m going to this bitch’s house to kick her ass.”
Ellen wrestles herself out of the chair. She grabs a business card and intercepts Laura at the front door. “Before you get your ass kicked by a demon, go visit Aurora. She’s the best.”
Laura reads the card and breaks out laughing. She needed that. “Madame Aurora? Seriously?”
Ellen’s dead serious. “She’ll help you understand the truth.”
Laura thinks about what Paul would say. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Why are you thinking about Paul right now? Go. And don’t tell him,” Ellen says with a conviction that compels Laura to take action. Ellen grabs Erik’s spyglass off her desk and hands it to Laura. “Ask her what these symbols mean.”
Laura drives through a sketchy neighborhood in north Seattle. She passes a tiny old Seattle residence with a lit sign in the window that reads, “Psychic - Tarot - Astrology - Runes.” She proceeds down the street, making a U-turn to park in front of the house. Her surroundings evoke paranoia. She locks the car, proceeding with caution inside the house.
Aurora greets her at the door. She’s an elderly Scandinavian woman whose demeanor and appearance suggest Miss Cleo of the Psychic Readers Network was her role model back in the day. “Welcome, Laura. I’ve been expecting you. I am Madame Aurora.” She motions Laura to sit at an old wooden table where she laid out a spread of runes. Aurora reshuffles the runes and lays out a new spread. Laura studies the runes as Aurora studies Laura.
After several minutes, Aurora waves her right hand slowly over the runes; as if she’s listening to them speak to her. “I sense a negative vibration. A dark hand in your marriage. Your husband.”
“Yes” Laura pulls the spyglass out of her bag. She opens it and compares the etched runes to the runes on the table. A perfect match in number and symbols. Aurora now has her full attention.
Aurora continues. “A powerful force manipulates him. He has fallen under its spell.”