As Tai stared, open-mouthed, Julien changed course. "Besides, would a fetus really survive the damage you've put it through? The drinking, the smoking, the pills?" He continued. "Would it be fair to bring a baby into the world knowing it would suffer for your poor choices? You don't want to live with that guilt." He didn't miss a trick. "Take the money and end it. Drive to another town. You've been gone for six weeks. Another one won't matter."
He still had the cash in his outstretched hand when there was a crunching noise. His head turned towards the front door where Sadie and Dedé were scratching to go out and greet Ellie's car – the one from an hour ago when she had returned from work. Tai snatched the cash from Julien's hand and started toward the front door.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
SHADOW SHOWDOWN
The images started losing their color and their substance, fading back into tones of charcoal grey. The grey wisps of smoke curled up and floated out the open window. The anthology still lay open on her desk, a tiny pile of ashes on the page. The page itself was undamaged. She held the book over the sash and blew the ashes out of the window. She wiped over the place where the ashes had been, and only a small smudge remained.
She had no doubt that what she’d seen was real. She could feel it down to her bones. It was exactly how Julien would behave if confronted with something he didn't like.
Ellie moved in a trance. She was thinking so deeply about the scene she’d watched that she didn't realize she was walking downstairs. Until she reached Julien's office. She didn't even know she was still holding the anthology. Until she launched it straight at the back of Julien's head.
It hit him with a thunk. "Aïe!" He grunted and turned to see where the projectile had come from. "Mon Dieu, Ellie! Did you just thr---" He stopped mid-sentence as he picked up the book. The red and white cover had come partially undone on impact. The hand that had been rubbing his sore head reached down and pulled off the rest of it.
When he finished removing the faux cover, he looked at Ellie as if seeing her for the first time. His eyes glowed with an intensity that made them appear golden-yellow instead of their usual soft brown. Ellie thought she saw his irises flicker - like a flame.
She shook her head. Something was happening. She felt her hair stand on end as her senses went on full alert.
"Well, well, well. Mais, what have we here? Could it be?" He walked toward her with the book resting open in one hand while the other hand stroked his chin. "Could my silly little wife have found the object of my desires without my knowledge?" He paced as he spoke.
Ellie was confused. Why was Julien talking about her book like he had known about it all along? And since when did he start calling her silly?
"Ho, ho," he continued. "Ma petite is not as foolish as I once thought. Oh, the irony." He pulled the book to his nose and inhaled deeply. "I have searched for this for so very long. And you found it for me." He stopped pacing and stood directly in front of her. "I guess all these years have not been wasted, then." He turned his back to her and gave the anthology his full attention.
Ellie swallowed. Her throat was dry. Her brain had filled with cobwebs. She put a hand to her forehead.
Julien gave a brief wave without glancing back at her, as if brushing away an insect, and Ellie felt an invisible force push her hand back down. She felt an unseen cord wrap tightly around her arms, pinning them to her side. It snaked around her legs and held her frozen in place. She grunted in shock, and Julien turned to watch her.
"Oh - don't look so confused, ma chère. I can explain everything, and I will – even though you won't remember it." He approached her, his eyes scanning her from the feet up. He circled her once and then continued.
"I suppose I owe you an explanation after all these years,” he paused and touched her hair. "Manipulating you," he said as his hand slid down from her hair to her cheek. "Seducing you," his hand caressed her face, her neck, and traced her collar bone. She thought he was going to grope her, but his hand curled into a fist with one finger pointing at her chest.
"Prodding, prying, planning," he punctuated each word with a stab of his finger. He said it all without taking his eyes off her. She wanted to flinch, but she couldn't. She squinted her eyes instead.
Julien's finger lifted off her chest and made its way to the book's cover. He studied the book. It had his undivided attention. He held it gently, reverently. He ran his palm across the cover. He raised it to his nose and sniffed it again. He closed his eyes, "Ah, the smell of ancient leather." He was talking to her, but his eyes were on the book.
"Did you know, ma vie, that this book is one of the very rare examples of anthropodermic bibliopegy? No, you don't even know what that means. And to think, you're an English teacher." His voice dripped with contempt.
"Well, let me explain. This book's author requested its pages bound together in her skin," he savored the word, "after her death." He paused to let that information penetrate her mental fog. Ellie felt a shiver rush down her spine. The hairs on her arms stood up, and goosebumps formed in anticipation. She dreaded what he was going to say next.
"After that original binding, each -- what word can I use? Owner is incorrect -- each disciple of the book has given a piece of skin to add to the cover. Or, rather, the book has taken it. A small price to pay for access to its power”
"You don't believe me?” He snatched her left arm and jerked her wrist in front of her face. “Well, look at this." He opened his mouth wide and breathed hot air over her wrist. The thin mark around her wrist that she’d largely ignored began to pulse with a cool, silver light. Her eyes grew wide as a small sliver on the cover of the book shone simultaneously, a piece that was shaped and colored exactly like the glowing band encircling her wrist. As it shone, she could feel the mark calling out for the book, or was the book calling out to the glowing scar? She didn't know, but she felt an attraction so strong that she thought she saw a thin ribbon of light linking her wrist to the anthology. She blinked.
It looked like the strand of a silver spider web floating in the air, thin and delicate. It moved, pulsing slowly, as if it were a living, corporeal extension of Ellie's body. It was frightening yet fascinating. As the silver strand tugged at her, Ellie wanted nothing more than to reach out and take the book, but her invisible bonds remained steadfast.
Julien stared at the book’s cover and continued talking, delivering his speech as if it had been memorized over time. "I knew I was right. I knew the moment I set eyes on you in Le Chemise. I knew when Madame Margaux approached you, revealing your identity with her prophecy. Oh, yes -- I knew even then that you would be worth the trouble, and I was correct."
He hugged the book to himself and then pulled it away to examine it. He caressed it like a furry pet, stroking the cover adoringly. He continued talking, more to himself than to Ellie, as Ellie stood locked in place with no choice but to listen.
"Oh, yes. I have played my part well. You had no idea that your beloved Caribbean Crush was stalking you from the start." He glanced up at Ellie to check her reaction. She didn't disappoint; her eyes widened, her left eyebrow shot up to her hair line, and her lips mouthed one word – what.
Julien chuckled. "Now you are beginning to see. Our chance meeting at Le Chemise was no chance at all. It was a precision move based on years of research and study. It was coldly calculated based on your heritage, your ancestry to be more precise." Ellie continued to watch him, and he continued to caress the book as he talked.
"My family has looked for this book for centuries. It was harder in the past, but with the invention of the Internet, things grew easier. I knew it was a matter of time before the book revealed itself, although I confess, I thought it would reveal itself to me -- not to my gullible little poupée. The book always has its reasons, though, and who am I to question them? I had the foresight to attach myself to you, so in the end it doesn't matter that the book chose you.
"But I digress. Back to your ancestral line. It ties you to the pivotal moment
in history when the book was lost to us. It ties you to your ancestor -- Elizabeth Proctor." He looked up at Ellie. "While your family connection has been nothing more than an amusement for you, it has been everything to me." His words began to pour out a little more quickly. His voice took on a hint of urgency.
"Do you remember that my grandmother was from Barbados? I am from there, too. I moved to St. Martin when I arranged your scholarship. It was so easy to lure you to the island. Did you never investigate who sponsored you? No? Well, let me fill you in. It was me.
"I found you through the Internet. You should be more careful with your online identity, ma vie. I found out more about you than you can imagine. Your love for French, your lineage, and your family's interesting connection to Salem. I funded your scholarship. I took a job at Le Chemise. I knew most of the university kids went there to blow off steam, and I thought you'd come along sooner or later.
"You were my merchandise, carefully packaged, purchased, and delivered. My patience was rewarded when you waltzed into the bar looking for a drink. Oh, how simple it was to attract your attention! You were ripe for the plucking.
"But quelle déception! What a disappointment to find that you knew next to nothing about your famous ancestor or the book when we married and moved back to your hometown of Boston. Anyone else living so close to the place where it happened would have connected the dots, would have wanted to know more about Elizabeth's offspring after she left Salem Village. Why your family never followed the trail -- alas, we'll never know.
"Instead, it was left to me to trace Elizabeth's path. I was the one to follow her second marriage to Daniel Richards. I was the one to discover that her son by Proctor married and moved to Stusa." He paused to take out a cigarette from his desk drawer, momentarily turning his back on Ellie.
Ellie itched to get free of her bindings. She couldn't focus on his words; she was too busy looking at him, seeing him evolve right in front of her. He’d become another person, a stranger.
It wasn't just his demeanor. His voice was different; it dripped with more than just his typical snide sarcasm. It was filled with disgust and hatred. He was no longer the indifferent French islander she had fallen in love with. His intonation had changed, and his voice had dropped about an octave.
He even looked different. His skin was darker. Instead of their usual caramel brown, his eyes were golden yellow, flickering with greed and longing. He looked at her with disdain. She was nothing more than a fleck of dirt to be swept out with the trash, or more like an insect that needed to be crushed underfoot.
"You can stop wriggling." He said with his back still towards her. He lit the cigarette and turned back to face her. "The spell that binds you cannot be broken by anyone but me. As long as I want you to remain bound, you will remain thus." He blew a perfect smoke ring over to her. "And I must confess, I have always loved a captive audience."
"You see, just as you have a connection to Elizabeth Proctor, I am linked to Tituba." He paused to chuckle at the look on Ellie's face. Ellie hated to give him the satisfaction, but his words were digging deep inside her, dredging up confusing emotions amidst her shock.
Julien continued his tale. "When Tituba was caught preparing love potions for the girls from Salem Village, she had to hide her book, this book. Historians tend to overlook that little nugget. They always study Salem's hysteria and persecution of villagers without understanding that the cause of it all was quite literally -- a witch." He chuckled.
"Unfortunately for Tituba, the conniving Abigail Williams found the book and wanted it for herself. Abigail, in fact, first accused Tituba of witchcraft to get her out of the way. Abigail believed that the book would then belong to her alone. Tituba would not dare risk being caught with the very book that would prove the town's accusations against her and so many others to be true.
"Reverend Parris had no idea what he brought into his home when he fetched Tituba from Barbados. His clever little niece figured it out well enough, though. She masterminded a massacre of innocents just to get her greedy hands on Tituba's book. That alone should give you a hint as to what the book is worth. Compared to Abigail, I have shown considerable restraint." He approached Ellie. "One memory lost compared to twelve lives sacrificed, a fair improvement I should think." He paused to take another drag from his cigarette. He blew the smoke right into Ellie's face.
"Mon Dieu, how I have longed to do that. You and your obsession with healthy living. Breathe this." He blew anther puff into her face. Ellie's eyes watered, but she kept herself from coughing. Somehow, it felt like a small victory considering her position.
"Oh! Where are my manners? Would you care to have a smoke, too? It could be your first as well as your last. At least you'd find out what you've been missing, not that you'll remember it. Non? Mais oui, il faut vivre. Live a little." He paused.
When she declined to answer, Julien sighed. "Well, I'll just have to smoke yours, too." He added a second cigarette to his mouth and sucked hungrily on them both. "Ahhhhh…bliss."
While he stood there enjoying his cigarettes, Ellie worked up the energy to talk. Although she still felt cotton-mouthed and befuddled, she managed to say, "Would you really leave the girls as orphans?"
"I'm not going to kill you, ma vie. Don't be so dramatic. I'm not a complete salaud." He spoke as the two cigarettes dangled from his lips. "I am going to remove these memories, however. I can't have you chasing after the book, too. There is already enough competition out there." He removed the cigarettes. "Oh, the jalousies that will be aroused when they find out that I have won." He chuckled. It came out like a snarl.
Ellie did not recognize the creature before her. Had she really loved this man, this monster? Had she borne his children? What was he, a warlock, a sorcerer? "Who are you?" Ellie asked in wonder.
"Ma chère, have you not figured it out? You poor, naïve little poupée. You see, I am the direct descendant of Tituba, the Barbados slave who brought the book with her to Salem so many years ago. She is, in fact, my maternal ascendant in the forty-second degree." He looked at Ellie to check her reaction.
"Oh, yes, I can trace my lineage directly back to her, her time in Salem, and beyond. I am the rightful heir to the book. It would have been in my family's possession many years ago if that cunning little fox, Abigail Williams, had not intervened. But now I am avenged. I have the book. It resides with its rightful disciple." He sighed in contentment.
Just then a clatter sounded from the front door. Someone came clomping through the house. Ellie struggled again against her invisible bonds hoping that Julien was distracted enough to let his guard down, but she only managed to wriggle her shoulders.
Julien cocked his head, listening for a moment. He didn't look even mildly concerned - merely curious. Without looking up at Ellie, Julien gave another wave of his hand, and Ellie froze mid-wriggle. One shoulder was still twisted forward while the other was stretched back. It was terribly uncomfortable, but she couldn't move to straighten herself out. She was unable to move from the neck down.
She could still move her mouth, though. Julien must have wanted her to talk to him to continue feeding his ego with her incredulity and questions. Why else would he have left her able to speak?
If words were her only defense, what she could say to convince Julien to release her? Julien sat on the edge of his desk, apparently absorbed in his double smokes, and took another long drag from the cigarettes as he waited.
Much clomping and heel-clicking preceded the door-slamming intruder. When the intruder entered the office, Ellie could only see the figure from behind. She’d expected Tai to come back for one more shot at Julien, but she never guessed that she was be at such a disadvantage – tied up like a pet dog, unable even to wipe away the tears of anger that were beginning to fall.
Restrained as she was, Ellie had nothing to do but think. And the only thinking she could do was to replay the scene she had just witnessed. Julien had betrayed her by sleeping with Tai. A seventeen-year-old! And Tai was
pregnant with Julien's child. A mental image of Julien and Tai having sex stabbed her, and her tears began to flow more freely.
Her tears were hot and contained all her mixed-up emotions; they were tears of shock, tears of disbelief, tears of outrage, tears of fury. They burned her skin as they ran down her face and dripped to the floor. Their heat was so intense that Ellie watched for them to hiss and steam as they hit the hardwood planks.
The intruder had already stomped past Ellie and faced Julien. All Ellie could see was her back. That absolute whore! Ellie thought. What she would give to break free of her bonds and scratch out those big, green, simpering eyes.
Rage engulfed Ellie; it swallowed her whole. Her body burned with a fury she hadn't known she was capable of feeling; it was a physical shot to her heart, one that liquefied the stone in her chest and spread into her arms, neck, and head like lava. If only she could erupt and spew molten rocks at them both. She tried again to move forward to attack Tai.
She managed to take a step forward. Her fury fueled her on. Another step. Then another. She was sweating from the exertion. Her focus was so intense that she didn't notice the intruder until the figure turned around to face her.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" A familiar female voice asked. Ellie was confused. Where were the innocent eyes, the blonde hair, the slutty clothes? In their place, Ellie saw long brown hair, intelligent, hard eyes, and a cloak. She was dumbfounded to see that the intruder was GG.
When she recovered enough to speak, Ellie spluttered, "GG, call the police! I'm...I'm... stuck." Ellie stuttered. "I can't move. Julien is a lunatic! Don't let him –"
A snarl interrupted Ellie's outburst. "Don't let him, what? Hurt you? Of course, not. I'll handle that myself." GG made a slashing movement with her left hand, and Ellie's throat felt like it had been sliced open. Her hands flew to her neck and she opened her mouth in a silent shriek. No sound came out. Her voice was gone, and she was immobilized once again – this time with her hands glued to her neck.
Crucible Crisis Page 27