Inkarna

by Nerine Dorman

  “It’s not that simple. His ties are obviously strong. If I sever them I may also end up severing my own ties. The body might die, or he might get back into it, and then where will we be? We can’t both control this body, and he clearly wants it back. We’re headed into uncharted territory here. House Adamastor doesn’t place emphasis on necromancy the way House Thanatos does.” I shudder, recalling the pasty individual Richard and I encountered in Paris so many years ago.

  “Can’t you speak to one of them?”

  “I’d rather not alert them to my existence. At least not until I’ve sorted out this current mess. You don’t know what the other Houses are like.”

  “Well?”

  An idea begins to form. “We could call him to us, bind him in my body. That way I can control him.”

  “You mean like being possessed? That’s just sick.”

  “I can’t think of anything else, save destroying him. I can’t cut him from me but I need to bring him more firmly into my control.”

  Marlise sits up quickly, pinning my arms so she’s leaning over me. “That’s crazy!”

  “The last time I checked, I was the one with more experience in these matters.” A weary resignation floods me. “I doubt appealing to his good will is going to help, and he’s not going to stop until he has some sort of spectacular success killing us, or me at least. And, even then, do you really want him back? He’d hurt you, worse than before. You know that. He’s dangerous.” I don’t add that we’re equally dangerous the way we’re going.

  She stares at me for a long moment before her expression turns from one of horror to something more neutral. “I’m going to go get us some breakfast.”

  I exhale harshly through my mouth, as if I’m breathing my last. “You do that. I need time to think things through.”

  Marlise rises and shrugs into the threadbare purple dressing gown she’s hardly without when home. She’s all businesslike, and I can only fathom this is because she draws comfort from familiar activities. Pausing by the door, she looks at me for a long moment before vanishing into the house.

  The cold leeches into my bones again and I pull the duvet over me, huddling into the downy warmth while I close my eyes. Surely my Akh, which has passed through the Hall of Judgment and returned, would be more resilient than Ash? He is but a fragment that hasn’t had the benefit of years of meditation and training. I know my Ren; he doesn’t. The true name takes preference, and if I can somehow stamp that over him to create a binding, he has to be subservient to my will. The man with two souls—it has a strange, prophetic ring to it.

  By the time Marlise returns with our lunch of ubiquitous toasted cheese-and-tomato sandwiches and a mug of tea each, I’ve made up my mind.

  “I’m doing it,” I tell her between bites.

  She shakes her head; takes a sip of her tea.

  “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. When I’ve neutralised the ghost, I’m going to move to Sunrise Lodge. It’s close to my work and I won’t be a burden on you. It’s not right that I, a grown man, shack up with my girlfriend in her parents’ house.” I realise what I’ve said the moment the words leave my mouth. Girlfriend—I’ve just admitted it.

  For a moment I’m afraid she’s going to spill her tea, but Marlise regains her composure quickly. “You’ve not even seen the dump. How can you be so sure you’ll stay there all that long?”

  I shrug. “It’s temporary.”

  “I qualify at the end of the year. I’ll be able to look for work. We could find a place together…” The wild hope etched on her features is almost too much to bear.

  “Let’s see how things go.” Is it so bad that I’m with her? I can’t see myself falling in love with a man, not in my current physical state. That thought makes my lip curl in distaste.

  “What’s going on between us?” Marlise asks.

  “It’s complicated.”

  She laughs. “It’s like those Facebook status updates. But, really, what future lies ahead for us?”

  “I don’t know. All I can tell you is that I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess. There’s no going back for either of us.”

  “How do you feel about me?”

  I glance at her then look at the half-eaten sandwich on my plate. “I really like you very much.”

  “As a friend.” It’s impossible missing the reproach in those three words.

  “I don’t know…it’s confusing. There’s an undeniable physical attraction but I’ve been trying to avoid it.”

  Marlise laughs, the sound bitter.

  To hide some of my discomfort, I take another bite, but the bread is like putty in my mouth when I chew and I have to swallow hard to get it down.

  “Am I that unattractive? Are you also going to fuck other women again?”

  “I don’t know!” I cry. “By now you must have some sort of understanding about my dilemma.”

  “You’re not Lizzie anymore, Ash. She’s dead. This is where you are now.”

  “I know this! But it doesn’t make it any easier!” I get up from the bed and put my plate and mug down on the table with too much force. The walls close in and the air tastes stale in the back of my throat. The old Ashton Kennedy glares down at me from the poster on the wall, all attitude, balls and a big dick.

  “Ash, please. I know I was stupid for running after who you used to be, but the entire situation has changed. Come to me, please. I love you, no matter who or what you are.”

  “You’re mad!” I round on her, my hands balling into fists. “You’re insane! Look at me! Look at what I’ve become! I’m not human! Not in the terms you’d understand. I’m Inkarna. I will live many lives. I will die many times. How can you love some thing that doesn’t fit into the natural order? How can you still want me knowing what you know now, that you’ll never have a normal life if you hang around me? Trouble will always follow us and we will know no rest.”

  “Don’t you believe in fate?”

  “I believe in myself. I follow the path of Ma’at, or I try to. I make my own fate, though the gods know I’m making such a hash of it right now.”

  “I believe in fate, Ash. I believe that for everything that has happened, it’s happened for a reason. I sat for days when you were on the respirator. Many times they wanted to switch off the machines. So many times I convinced your mother otherwise.”

  “She’s not my mother.”

  Marlise blanches. “She cares about you. So does Mr Kennedy. You need to let people into your life. After everything I’ve gone through, those months of not knowing. I sat there one night and I prayed, I prayed to anyone or anything that might be listening to bring you back. I haven’t told you this one because for a long time I thought I was just dreaming, that it was just wishful thinking, but I saw something, someone.” She whispers the last two words.

  “What?” This piques my interest.

  She grips her mug as though it contains some sort of precious elixir. “It was late. That was the night Mrs Kennedy came to tell me that they couldn’t afford to keep you on life support anymore. The doctor had already agreed to switching off the machines. You couldn’t breathe without them. They tried before. They were going to give you morphine to make you comfortable, and they were going to turn the machines off the following day. There was nothing I could say or do about the matter.

  “I decided to stay that night and I sat there a long while, holding your hand, watching your chest rise and fall, knowing that this was the last time.”

  “And you did this despite the previous tenant treating you like dirt.” I snort, but something about the utter defeat in the way she rounds her shoulders, makes me approach the bed and sit next to her. Removing the half-empty mug from her clenched fingers, I put this aside, under the bed where it won’t spill, and take her hands in mine. “Speak. Finish your story.” It’s all I can do to stop shaking.

  “Thank you.” Marlise’s smile is tentative. “I must have nodded off but I jerked awake, with the distinct impression that I
wasn’t alone. There was a man in the room with us, only he wasn’t like any man I’ve seen before. He had a head like a dog or a wolf and he stood on the other side of the bed, resting a hand on your chest. Here.” She places her palm on my chest, above my heart. “He said something in a language that I now think sounded like the one I’ve heard you, and a scent like incense filled the ward. Then he looked up at me. He had the strangest eyes, like I could see stars reflected in them, all luminous and dark. I heard him say a word, something like keffer three times. At least that’s what I remember.”

  “Anpu Upuaut.” I breathe the words, all the small hairs on my arms and the back of my neck rising. Though we work with the Neteru, it’s very rare that we connect with them. Hell, some Inkarna state flatly the Neteru only exist because it’s easy for us to package certain ideas in pretty forms, that the Neteru are extensions of ourselves that have gained a measure of autonomy in the shared human subconscious.

  While I’m not that progressive in my thinking, this is nonetheless chilling that one such as Anpu Upuaut will take personal notice of me. It’s just too uncanny, with all the small clues that have been doing the rounds of late.

  “You’re not saying anything,” Marlise prompts.

  “What can I say?”

  “Was I dreaming?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Her face pales and a tremor passes through her. “These things are real…”

  “As if I haven’t been able to convince you yet.” I laugh, because it’s the only reaction I can give.

  “You can choose,” I tell her. “Either we part ways here and now, and you can try to forget any of this happened, forget about me. And you’ll be safe. Or you can remain part of this craziness, but I can guarantee that you’ll see many strange and wondrous things, and your life will not take a path that you can predict. It will be dangerous.” The selfish part of me wants her to come with me, to follow where I walk. I have so little in this world and one other person who understands, who cares enough to want to help, is better than none, for Leonora won’t be here forever, or not for another few decades or more.

  “Ash, you know I’m in far too deep to turn around now, but I can’t do this if you’re going to break my heart.”

  I look at Marlise then, really observe her. She is not a classic beauty, is too short and a little round in figure, in a way that makes me constantly want to put my arm around her, to feel her near me. Rich brown eyes burn with an inner fire, never leaving mine. If she were cast in a film, she’d be the slightly geeky girl next door, the one who’s good with children and constantly has her nose in a book, who loves receiving Valentine’s cards and single red roses wrapped in cellophane. But it’s that spirit in her that has me reach out to tuck a dark-red curl behind her ear and cup her face just below the chin. I graze my thumb over her slightly parted lips.

  “You’ve shown me such kindness, Marlise. How can I not feel some sort of love in return?”

  “But you’re too scared to take it further, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I don’t know what I want.”

  “Yet I sometimes catch you looking at me in a way Ashton wouldn’t.”

  “Why did you hold onto him?”

  “I just couldn’t say no to him. We started dating when we were both in school. He became cruel, or maybe he always had this nasty streak to him. When he knew his own power…” She shakes her head.

  “Why didn’t he just leave you? He seems like the kind of guy who’d just not stop by once he tired of you.”

  “Oh, he’d meet someone new and he’d call, tell me we’re breaking up. Everyone would be talking about it for about a week or two, then the girl would get too clingy or do something to annoy him. Then he’d start visiting me again. Just friends, right? And next thing I’d know, he’d be taking me out to dinner or buying me a CD or something, and we’d be together again. A month or two, things would be fine. Then some girl…” She sobs. “They were always the same, some barely legal, hanging out at The Event Horizon. And he could be so damned charming. You couldn’t say no to him even if you tried, even though you knew he was poison.”

  I pull her into my arms and hold her while she cries. Years of pent-up sorrow shiver through her and the only comfort I can offer is to crush her to me. How must it have been for her when the new and messed-up-in-other-ways Ash woke? An uncertain Ash, hesitant, always apologising?

  Could I love her? I turn my feelings over. I’m vulnerable right now. She’s the first person, apart from Leonora, I can bare my soul to, but what will happen two or three years from now if I meet someone else? Or what if Marlise decides she tires of me?

  Logic screams at me to not do anything stupid by committing to anyone right now, but another, selfish part—my carnal side—delights in this soft gentle creature that has opened herself to me. Is it so wrong to draw physical comfort from another person? Especially if it is freely given? I know for certain I’d never play her the way the old Ash seemed to delight in tormenting the people who loved him.

  Marlise wants a physical affirmation of a bond between us and I can’t deny I’m curious. What’s it like, this interchange between man and woman when I’m no longer on the receiving end?

  “Do you really want me?” I ask. It’s a stupid question and a foolish notion now, while there is so much at stake.

  She lifts her head to look up at me, her eyes wet and wide. “Was there ever any doubt?”

  I let her kiss me, losing myself in the softness of her lips, her insistent tongue that flicks into my mouth, gentle, almost apologetic. It’s easier to respond, to return this offering and, despite the beating my body took the night before, a steady answering warmth spreads from my loins.

  My hands seek out her breasts, which are pleasing in their weight. When I run my palms over the nipples they peak at my touch. We fall back on the bed and Marlise shifts so her thigh presses against my crotch and the growing tightness. I have a bad moment, or should I rather say an unfamiliar moment, when I feel my shaft harden at this pressure. But it’s good, so good, this ember within me stirring into life, causing the blood in my veins to quicken.

  Her hands roam over my belly, tugging at the tracksuit pants I’m wearing to slip inside. Nice, warm hands that trail torturous fingers along the sensitive skin of the inside of my thighs, close but not touching the erection straining against the fabric.

  With a grunt I push her t-shirt up to expose her breasts, burying my face in the flesh, licking, tasting and drinking in her scent that, beneath the mint, is almost milky sweet. A terrible hunger consumes me and I take her nipples into my mouth, experimenting with the texture of sucking at them, teasing them in circles with my tongue the way Richard used to torment Lizzie. It has the same effect on Marlise. Her hips push against me, the sweet torture of her riding my leg.

  She breaks for air with a gasp. “I can’t wait anymore!” Marlise tugs hard at my pants and pushes me onto my back. I’m too lost in the way she grabs my phallus, massaging it in ways that make me dizzy, helpless and lost to the sensation.

  Marlise straddles me, holding the tip to the warm folds of her cunt. This is sweet agony as she devours me, her muscles accommodating my girth as she grinds down hard. I can’t help but cry out, grabbing her thighs as I do so and thrusting into her.

  “This. Feels. So. Good!” is all I can manage before I’m lost in the push and pull, her small gasps of pleasure doing things to my mind so that I white out.

  It’s not enough that she rides me. With a growl I roll her over so I can thrust deeper, harder. I’m pushing at a barrier, a build-up of pressure that needs release. Dimly I’m aware of her wrapping her legs around my waist, somehow changing the way her passage enfolds me.

  The explosion of my orgasm rockets through me, out of this strange pulsing organ that is now mine. Infinitely sublime. We lie back in a tangle of limbs and clothing, our breath rasping in our throats, our skin moist where fabric doesn’t separate.

  Marlise is the first to move, shift
ing so that my now-flaccid phallus slips out. The intensity of our intercourse returns to me in scattered visions of frantic pumping, my back stinging from lacerations I wasn’t aware Marlise was making when she dug her nails into skin.

  “I didn’t hurt you?” I ask.

  Marlise’s laugh is throaty. “He never used to ask me that.”

  “Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?”

  “Take it any way you want to but I’m going to go have a shower now. You’re welcome to join me, but don’t expect a blowjob ’cause I can’t handle water getting up my nose.” Pecking me on the lips and on the forehead, she launches off the bed, laughing as she disappears into the bathroom.

  This must be my cue to follow her. Lizzie played similar games with Richard. His memory elicits a sharp pang of guilt. When will I stop these comparisons? Will I always hold Marlise next to him? I shove these uncharitable thoughts far away, wincing from latent aches as I rise. Pulling the t-shirt off over my head, I head to where Marlise is, already under a hot stream of water.

  It feels so good, so right to hold her, all warm, wet and slippery while the water cascades down on us, washing away sweat and old anger. She pushes into me when I run my hands down her belly to tangle in the short fuzz of her pubic mound.

  “For someone who claims to be uncomfortable with getting down and dirty, you seem to know exactly what to do,” she murmurs when I slide my fingers inside her cleft.

  “I’m a fast learner,” I reply.

  I love the way she grinds against me, entirely too intoxicating, and my phallus quirks at the thought of what untold pleasures reside within this diminutive woman who has opened herself so willingly to me.

  Now’s not the time to think too hard, to consider all the implications of our actions. With the water still jetting over us, she turns and I explore her lips, sliding my hands down the small of her back to hold her buttocks and pull her against my already stiff phallus. I could get used to this. All the cares, the worries, fade to distant recesses as I press my mouth to Marlise’s in the shower, somehow satisfied with the way she feels so abominably good writhing against me, opening her legs to my insistent, questing fingers.