The Mayfair Moon

by J. A. Redmerski

  I gasped and felt my insides dissolve into mush.

  “Nooo!” My scream was the only noise.

  I came slowly out from underneath the table, watching everything and everyone around me and I crept forward. Many others slunk out of sight with Trajan’s presence, knowing if they didn’t that they would surely die. Viktor stood wounded, blood soaking his fur.

  I looked directly at Trajan, so tall against me, so enormous, so absolutely frightening. “An Alpha protects his own....,” I said, my words poisoned with resentment.

  I did not fear him, not even on the inside.

  He let me be.

  I ran outside through the new opening in the side of the house and found Isaac in human form, lying naked in the snow. Blood covered him; his hair thickly wet with it. I fell to my knees next to his body.

  “Isaac!” I touched his face and head all over; blood quickly stained my hands and clothes.

  He wasn’t responsive, but I saw that his body shivered in the cold. His skin was not hot like it normally was after he shifted form. The snow around his body did not melt away. I ran to a nearby parked car and yanked open the back door, searching everywhere for something to cover Isaac with. I pushed the button in the front to pop the trunk where I spotted a duffle bag stuffed full of laundry. Tearing it open, I tossed everything until I found a large bath towel.

  I covered Isaac with the towel the best I could. He had started to gain consciousness while I rummaged through the car, but he was weak.

  “My father...” he said. “Was that...my father?”

  I looked toward the house. Indecision crippled me.

  And I couldn’t lie to him.

  “Yes,” I said and I leaned down and kissed his forehead softly.

  Isaac lifted with difficulty and pain. I couldn’t believe all the blood and how he was still alive.

  “My father has always been greedy,” he said, holding onto my shoulder for balance.

  “Greedy?”

  “He won’t let anyone else kill beasts of rank,” he said. “Not while he’s Alpha. It can threaten his position.”

  The secret was still safe, but it was painful for me. Isaac didn’t know that rank had nothing to do with what Trajan did, that he saved Viktor’s life. But I knew. I knew and I hated myself for it.

  I helped Isaac to his feet.

  “My father will kill him,” he said, staring toward the house. I could sense a big part of him was angry; he wanted to be the one.

  I couldn’t say it, that I knew otherwise. Trajan would not kill Viktor Vargas. It hurt so much to keep the truth from Isaac.

  “I need to get you out of here,” he said.

  He kept looking back as we walked toward the main road where his car had been parked out of sight. I thought at any moment he would barrel back into the chaos and finish what he started.

  We drove away from the Vargas house and I hoped I would never see it again.

  ON THE WAY TO Isaac’s house, over the winding black roads and snow-covered land, I kept looking back, afraid that we would be ambushed again.

  “They won’t come,” he said as he pulled me nearer.

  I sat pressed so close to his body that I could hear his heart thrumming calmly against my cheek. I could faintly smell the soap he had showered with and underneath it, the natural delicious scent of his warm skin. Every now and then when I would shift in his embrace, his heart would quicken and his arm would constrict protectively around me, calming me.

  I was so tired; I could hardly keep my eyes open, but in a short time we were pulling into the drive and Isaac killed the engine.

  He carried me into the house and though I was more worried about his injuries than mine, I couldn’t bring myself to object.

  The house was rich with warmth and firelight; the fireplace blazing behind the hearth, licking the cool air coming from the chimney above. Briefly, I glimpsed the painting of Trajan and Aramei and softly shut my eyes, as if to forget that I knew anything about them at all.

  My bare feet began to thaw as Isaac walked with me up the staircase. I could feel my toes coming to life with pain. My back and ribs began to throb, but I hid my discomfort from him well. Carrying me into a spacious bathroom, Isaac carefully sat down on the side of the deep tub with me enveloped in his lap. He reached out and turned the squeaking faucets, letting the tub begin to fill up with water. Steam rose from the top of the water, fogging the nearby window, which had already been covered by frost and snow. Only one light burned low over the pedestal sink.

  “Isaac,” I said, and I noticed how weak even my voice had become, “I’m fine.”

  Reluctantly, he let me go and I raised myself to sit more upright on his lap, though it was a struggle. I was a bloody mess; the gown Viktor dressed me in drenched in Isaac’s blood. Glancing down, I noticed that both of my legs were covered in bruises and cuts, but I ignored that too. Isaac was more important.

  “Look what he did to you,” I said, my voice trembling with tears. I traced a long, bleeding gash down the length of his neck with the tip of my finger. Tears began to stream softly down my face.

  I moved out of his lap and cautiously went to my feet, holding onto his arm for balance. But he would never let me fall; he sat rigidly with both hands resting on my hips; vigilant and quietly objecting my movements, but letting me have my way for the moment. I didn’t care that he was immune to sickness and disease, or that his wounds, no matter how grave they appeared to me, would heal on their own. The human in me and the deep love that I had for Isaac, made me want to care for him.

  I made my way to the sink and opened a cabinet above it.

  Isaac was behind me every step, afraid that my weak legs would give out.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he said, placing his hands on my waist from behind.

  I continued to rummage through the cabinet, moving every tube and bottle out of the way in search of antiseptic, or bandages; anything that could pass as First Aid, but all I found was toothpaste, perfume and lotion.

  “There’s got to be something,” I said, impatient and frustrated.

  “Adria,” said Isaac, turning me around and staring deeply into my eyes. “This is why I love you,” he whispered softly, devotedly. “Because you curb my envy for human life, by allowing me to experience human love.”

  He lifted me onto the countertop where I sat with him standing between my suspended legs and he pulled me into him, letting my head fall against his chest.

  And he held me there; his strong hand cradling the back of my head.

  “I’ve never known anyone like you,” he went on and I looked up at him again. “So much love for your mother that you stayed with her to protect her. That you would risk your life for your uncle. And your sister—even after everything she’s done to you, I know you still want her in your life.” He held me tighter, and over my quiet sobbing I still managed to hear the beating of his heart. “And for me…,” he said even more softly than before, “…you know what an abomination I am, how dangerous I am, yet you love me—”

  He stopped abruptly as though his mind had been snapped into another place; his deep gaze immersed in some powerful thought or memory. I started to speak, to stir the peculiar silence, but he came back out of it so quickly.

  “And I love you, Adria Dawson, with that same undying passion.”

  I began to feel…strange. My legs felt heavy, my arms weaker every time I moved them even just slightly.

  A steady stream of tears poured from the corners of my eyes and I looked up at him, vaguely realizing how heavy even my head had become. “If that’s true,” I said, though I did not doubt it for a second, “then do one thing for me.”

  “Anything,” he said.

  I pecked him lightly upon his soft, warm lips.

  “Promise never to call yourself an abomination.”

  There was a faint, yet unmistakable smile in his eyes.

  Suddenly, I felt his lips upon mine again, but I couldn’t recall the few seconds befor
e, when he leaned in to kiss me. I could taste his luscious mouth; his perfect, deep kiss as he held my face in his hands. I could tell, even with my eyes shut, that the room was getting darker, the air colder. I shivered. My bones were frozen and strange, as if I were still lying out in the frigid snow with Isaac, surrounded by darkness and winter and blood.

  I heard voices. Just like the night when Sibyl attacked us in the car, there were voices in my head; odd, indistinct whispers.

  I couldn’t open my eyes.

  My body felt light like air; my chest devoid of breath. When I tried to lift my hands, it felt as though a cumbersome veil of magic lay over them, preventing any movement. I tried to speak, but my lips were as heavy as stone.

  In a flash of a second, I gained control of my mind and felt my lids open just a slit. I was incredibly dizzy; Isaac’s face spiraling around in my gaze.

  “Isaac?” I said, but I realized the words never actually left my lips.

  My lids slammed shut over my eyes again and I felt my body lift viciously into the air; nothing but blackness and cold all around me as if I were being hurled through Time and Space. I screamed out Isaac’s name once more.

  The voices were getting nearer; I could hear the hot breath of whispers upon my ears, feel fingers grasping around my elbows. “Get her into the water,” I heard one voice say, but it had sounded so muted, as if she were speaking through a thick wall.

  “Get into the water,” a different voice said so plainly that it jolted me alert.

  I looked up and I was knelt by the creek again.

  “Adria,” Alex said, standing over me, “we need to get you cleaned up.”

  Confused, I looked all around me toward the water and then back at Alex. Her dark hair rested softly over her shoulders. Her eyes were beautiful and serene like they had always been before she was infected by evil. She smiled down at me.

  I looked at myself; still wearing the bloodstained gown, still covered in bruises and cuts and soot from the fireplace in my prison.

  “Where’s Isaac?” I said; my words still detached from my tangled mind. “How are you here?”

  I felt trapped in some vivid dream, yet everything was too real, too convincing to be a dream. Yet, everything about it was incredibly familiar.

  Water flowed gently over the rocks and the wind brushed through the trees with delicate breezes. Flowers were in full bloom, lined perfectly along the creek’s bank; vines crawled over the forest bed and wrapped themselves around every tree, every branch, in an intricate display of green.

  Alex was kneeling in the water with me suddenly and I was naked. I don’t know how she got there so fast. I don’t know how I got there at all. The water was warm, almost hot. Instantly it soothed me. I felt my eyes close once more as Alex guided my body backward and I lay within the water, propped against her lap. Tenderly, she cleansed my hair, combing her delicate fingers through every strand. I glimpsed the blood staining the water around me as it washed away.

  “She’s waiting to speak to you,” Alex said and I looked up to see her face. “She’s watching you; can’t you see her?” And then Alex pointed through the trees and I lifted from her lap, wearing a new gown; thin and clean and white. My hair was completely dry; my body left no evidence of taint.

  I looked raptly through the trees, but saw no one. I could feel a presence, one so compelling, yet so absolutely cryptic. And when I turned around again, Alex was gone.

  I heard the ground crack lightly like a branch burning in a fireplace and then I looked down. The creek bed had dried up; nothing left but dust-covered rocks and tiny pebbles and parched earth. The flowers on the bank behind me were gone; the crawling vines withered and brittle. The sky was eerily gray, yet I saw not a single cloud moving across it.

  But in front of me, everything was still beautiful. Everything was in full bloom; a wonderland.

  I took a step forward and the vines under my feet turned to dust and blew away. Another step and the flowers upon the bank withered and died in an instant. I stopped then, afraid to kill any more beauty with my presence.

  Aramei walked toward me through the bright and colorful forest and reached out her frail hand.

  “You must drink it,” she said, but her lips never moved.

  I went a few steps toward her, but she never appeared any closer. I tried again, but the distance between us refused to change.

  “Drink what?” I said, and my lips never moved either.

  “The water from the creek,” she said.

  I glanced down at the dried-up creek bed and then back at Aramei.

  “But it’s gone.”

  She reached out her hand once more and although she appeared to be many feet away, I looked down right into the palm of her hand as if she were standing directly in front of me.

  A single droplet of water rested there. I could see my reflection within it.

  I looked up at her, unsure, wary of her words.

  But I could never distrust an angel and Aramei was to me the closest thing to an angel that I would ever know.

  I took her hand into both of mine and I leaned over, placing my lips over the droplet of water. And I drank. My eyes shut softly and I drank more and more and more until my body was hurled through the blackness of Time and Space again.

  And I woke up.

  I lay in Isaac’s bed, surrounded by crisp, white sheets and fluffy pillows. I was curled up inside a thick, warm comforter; white with a faint tapestry print and ruffles. It was early morning; the day had barely gone through an hour of dim sunlight, still subdued by thick, dreary winter clouds. A muted ray of light pushed through the frost-covered window and pooled on a spot on the floor. The room had been cleaned; everything positioned neatly into its own place. I could faintly smell lemon furniture polish underneath a stronger layer of white tea fragrant candles. One burned on the night stand beside me; the tiny flame steady and calm.

  Someone had dressed me. I wore the same clean, white gown I had worn in my dream. My hair was clean; brushed so thoroughly that it felt like silk. My cuts had been tended to; the bruises upon my legs had already started to fade. Brushing my hand over the wound under my ribs, I noticed that the stitches were gone. Gently I touched it through the thinness of my gown, feeling a small mass where a scar was already beginning to form.

  I touched my lips with my fingertips by the influence of some sort of familiarity, some kind of memory to which my conscious mind couldn’t quite recall. The gesture seemed significant, as if I should know what had last been there, upon my lips. And I thought of Isaac.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  I saw Isaac then, sitting in the far corner of the room enveloped by the shadow. I heard the chair move as he stood from it and walked toward me and into the subdued light; the sound of his boots gently moving across the floor.

  He sat down beside me upon the bed and reached out, brushing the back of his fingers along my cheekbone.

  My eyes closed of their own accord and I breathed in his scent; it was more prominent than ever before; more intoxicating.

  “What happened?” I said, slowly opening my eyes. “I don’t remember….”

  Isaac leaned in and grazed his lips along my cheek until he found my lips and kissed me tenderly.

  “You passed out,” he said, pulling away. “Everything must have overwhelmed you at once after I got you here. All that you had been through at the Vargas house, everything you saw, the injuries.”

  He brushed his fingers through my hair and he smiled.

  “Zia and Daisy helped me,” he said, “with the bath and getting you dressed. Oh, and cleaning the place up.”

  The thought of him seeing me naked in such a state, had never even crossed my mind. It wouldn’t have bothered me. I knew in my heart that Isaac would never do anything to violate me.

  I thought of the dream then, worried that my intimate time in the bathroom with him before may not have been real. I looked up into his eyes and paused for a moment, taking in every second o
f the way he looked so devotedly back at me. How could this beautiful, godlike creature be in love with me?

  “You promised me,” I said. “That you would never call yourself an abomination. Do you remember?”

  “Yes,” he said, smiling. “But you fainted so conveniently before I could request my terms.” His smile became more of a grin then.

  “Oh?” I said a little surprised.

  “Uh huh,” he said and went on, “You have to promise me that a week before every full moon—”

  I put up my hand, stopping him. “No,” I demanded, “you can’t ask me to do that. Isaac, I want to be here…I—“

  He placed his fingers upon my lips to hush me. His face was unreadable, but still, he was smiling; his dark eyes soft with adoration.

  “You have to promise that you’ll be at my side,” he said, and my heart quickened. “Because I know that without you here, I’ll become something far more dangerous.”

  I almost cried, but instead I choked it back and smiled, nodding slowly. “I do promise,” I said.

  After a thoughtful hesitation, I added, “But why the change of heart? I thought you were afraid.”

  For a moment, Isaac’s gaze strayed from mine. Patiently, I waited for his answer, but at the same time, I was desperate for it.

  “I can trust myself around you now,” he said, still not looking at me but then finally he did. I sensed a mysterious longing in his expression; an emotion dark and unresolved. “I could never hurt you. Ever.”

  Isaac stood and went over to the window, pulling the curtain open the rest of the way. More soft, gray sunlight flooded into the room. I could see the tops of the trees outside covered in glistening white, but nothing fell from the sky.

  “Isaac,” I said as he turned around to face me. “For now—and I’m not sure how long now will last—I can live with the way things are, but…” I stopped and inhaled a deep breath, looking down toward the sheets. “But what about later? What do we do when my fear of being without you becomes a burden?”

  “What are you saying?” He stopped in the center of the room as if he could go no further until my answer permitted it.