by Shelly Pratt
Chapter Three
With her cheque clearing in her bank account four days after the gallery event, Aiyana felt like she could afford a bit of time off from work and emailed her contractor in Europe to let her know that she would submit the rest of her designs by the end of next week. This morning she lay snuggled in her bed not quite ready to get up and face the world, but in the end she was forced up by her need to use the lavatory.
Once she had finished her morning ritual in the poor excuse of a bathroom, she switched on the kettle and went about making a pot of coffee. She powered up her laptop and sat back as it slowly went through the motions of scanning her hard drive for viruses and initializing her software. The kettle started to whistle and she jumped up to take it off the small gas burner before the water boiled out of the spout. She had inherited a retro percolator from her grandmother from back in the late 1990s, and she used it now to make her brew from finely ground Columbian coffee beans.
Most people these days wouldn’t even know what to do with it if you showed it to them; they were all fascinated with the latest in espresso technology whereby one could have fresh coffee at the press of a button. It was all about integrating and interfacing. Some hot shot new electronics company in Japan had designed a fridge and freezer that also had a coffee machine, computer, telephone, and personal planner all integrated and running off the one system.
You could order your groceries while your coffee was being made. You could send an email while talking on the phone to a relative or business associate. You could even plan a social event for the masses whilst choosing what to have for dinner that night. Aiyana didn’t like all the latest gadgets though – she preferred to go old school. She had heard one too many stories about how all this information and technology was taking over people’s lives. Society had forgotten how to interact on a personal level and had taken to relying on modern technology to do the job for them. Not only that, but the machines were getting smarter. They knew everything there was to know about a person – what you bought when you shopped, where you shopped, your credit card details, who your friends were and so on and so forth. Nothing was sacred. The minute you logged on to such devices they immediately started downloading the rest of your information from all of your devices and started sending it back through the Ethernet to all the marketing companies who were analysing all that information and turning it back into advertising material to snag you on your next purchase.
It was far too much for Aiyana to deal with, so the most technologically savvy thing she did was send an email every now and then. Even for such a meagre use of modern technology she had used a friend from her university set up all manner of computer security software devices to counteract all these programmes trying to hack in and access all of her personal information. So far she seemed to think she had flown under the radar.
She didn’t even have a mobile telephone device for god’s sake.
This morning she was quickly shooting off an email to Elijah before deciding what to do with the rest of her day. As she sat curled up on the lounge chair with her steaming cup of coffee, she wondered if she might take a bike ride today to see if she could find the mysterious Eilam. It was quite unlike her to want to see anybody - usually she was a loner by choice and only rarely saw Elijah professionally or when he insisted she simply must ‘get out of that box’ as he so eloquently put it.
It wasn’t that she was unfriendly, she just found a lot of women too immature and too self-absorbed to relate to her on a personal level and most men usually just wanted one thing from her and it wasn’t her brains.
She wasn’t lonely though. She found a lot of satisfaction from the various charities she was involved in and was kept extraordinarily busy with her artwork projects. Being an avid reader didn’t hurt either. The constant rain found most people in doors these days – herself included; which made for the perfect atmosphere for curling under the covers with a good novel to read. And no, it wasn’t a book she read on an electronic device, it was the real deal. She just couldn’t compare the two. The smell of a freshly bound book, being able to turn the pages, flick back at will to check something she had forgotten and even the food and drink stained pages – there was just nothing else like it. Of course an avid reader would know what was meant by the food and drink…The novel of course is far too good to put down for normal things like eating or drinking, so of course one does it over the fresh pages of their new novel, only to find they were so engrossed in the story they’ve slopped half of their meal and cup of tea over it! Feeling like she had bundles of energy after such a good sleep, she decided to forgo the novel for a hike in the mountains.
She drained her coffee mug and grabbed a fruit bun from the pantry and snatched her leather jacket off the coat rack on her way out of the door. Minutes later she was heading out of the lobby and gunning the engine on her motor bike.
****
She had been walking through the woods for over half an hour and hadn’t yet come to the bottom of the waterfall where she had first seen Eilam. She felt a little breathlessness, not because she was physically exhausted but rather she was quite excited to see him again. She felt sure this was where he lived and she felt she needed more answers from him. Besides, she wanted to thank him for saving her the other night outside of the art gallery.
Okay, that was just an excuse, but honestly, where were her manners?
She had a sip of water from her flask and kept walking, the squelch of her boots in the muddy slop making her slippery descent slow and cumbersome. Maybe she should do a reversal rain dance - something to stop the river that seemed to be flowing endlessly from the heavens above. She knew she was going to have to check herself for leeches when she got home, the little suckers just loved this environment and thrived like nobody’s business.
She was now standing at the base of the waterfall and had her eyes peeled for him – she would be happy to see him in either his male or bird form. But nothing happened. Nobody came and she heard nothing except for the senseless chatter of the willy-wagtails that hopped from tree to tree, enjoying the little song and dance they had going on with each other.
But there were no ravens; no men and definitely no Eilam.
After half an hour of sitting like a fool on the rocky ledge that surrounded the spring fed pools she gave up and headed for the western path that would circuit the rim of the mountain and lead her back up to the car park where she had parked her bike. Deflated she stomped her way along the path, frustrated that she couldn’t just get what she wanted. She was almost back at the car park when she felt a slight breeze, nothing too discernible, but already she had begun to be accustomed to the smell of him and even now his scent drifted along the gentle breeze that floated her way.
She slowed considerably now and strained her ears to hear behind her. She knew he was there somewhere. She couldn’t see him, but she felt his presence – felt his eyes as they bore into her back.
“I know you’re there,” she called. She waited and heard nothing.
“Eilam, I know you’re there,” she offered again. A twig snapped behind her and she spun around and came face to face with him.
“Eilam,” she breathed.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said reproachfully, his face darkening even more so as he said this. His eyebrows furrowed and a deep look of consternation was etched across his forehead.
She knew why he said this, especially after averting an attack from one of his own species the night of the gallery function, but his comments were still like a slap in the face. It wasn’t often she opened up herself to the possibility of rejection and she didn’t like it one little bit.
“Fine,” she snapped and turned to leave. She was surprised by her own childishness; this wasn’t like her at all. She felt him grab her hand and he pulled her gently back to face him.
“It’s not safe here for you,” he said, pleading with her, and in by doing so suddenly revealed a boyish vulnerability that she hadn’t seen in him b
efore.
“I get it ok, I’ll leave,” she snapped and stalked off before he could say another word. She was almost back at her bike when she saw the dead autumn leaves on the ground start to blow away and she caught a hint of his smell in the air, almost like it was trailing her. She turned the key on her bike and gunned the engine before dropping the clutch and burning rubber with her rear tyre on the bitumen.
She let the brakes off and tore out of the car park at maximum speed. She felt, rather than saw him fly over her head as she made the dangerous twists and turns down the winding road that led back down the mountain and out to the highway, but she dared not take her eyes off the road or else end up in a ditch.
As she hit the straight road at the bottom she opened the bike up and gave it all she had. She was no match for him though. His speed was pure strength and she had felt it first hand when she had flown with him the other night. She knew what she was doing was reckless and dangerous but she was a tomboy at heart and she didn’t seem to be able to back down from a pissing contest any more than the next guy could. With the speed she was travelling the upcoming corner loomed quicker than she had anticipated and she had to throw the full weight of her body with the bike into the corner if she had any chance of coming off the corner clean.
She almost thought she’d made it until the rear wheel slipped too far and she sensed the imminent fall. The bike kept going on its trajectory and slid to a stop about fifty metres up the road.
She on the other hand had been lifted of it before she’d had the pleasure of having a gravel sandwich. His safe claws had her gripped tightly and he flew off the road and down to the grassy meadow that ran along the Nerang River. He lowered her to the overgrown grass and then landed softly next to her.
Even with her helmet on his screech was deafening. She took her helmet off to confront him.
“Okay, okay – stupid, stupid – I know,” she said feeling his exasperation just as much as he did. He morphed into his human form then, the broodiness still there, but something else as well. She felt bad then and decided to get off her high horse and apologise for her behaviour. She certainly wasn’t creating a very good impression.
“Look, I’m sorry okay, I…,” but she could say no more because he took her chin in his hands and pressed his lips ever so tenderly against hers. She was silenced instantly. His soft gentle lips were warm and inviting, she wanted to run her tongue over their smoothness and explore all that was him. She drank in his smell as he kissed her slowly, purposefully, claiming her as his own.
They broke apart then and stared at each other, both suddenly having the sense to be a little embarrassed about it.
“I didn’t wish for you to leave me, it’s just not safe for you there and you have to promise me you won’t come back,” he said.
“Why? Why would they want to hurt me?” she said.
“It’s not just you they would hurt, it’s all of you,” he said in a complete frankness that on a normal person would have seemed like indifference, but she could tell that he was just laying the facts out for her without having the sense to sugar coat it.
“What have I, or we for that matter, ever done to them?” she questioned.
His eyes closed to slits, peering at her intently, observing her facial features.
“You should go and talk to your sister,” he said flatly and turned on his foot leave.
“Eilam, wait. How do you know I have a sister? What does she have to do with you?” she asked.
He stopped in his tracks and turned back to face her.
“You don’t know? I mean, like really don’t know – about anything?” he queried her.
“Know what? What does Cybele have to do with all of this?” she was getting confused now. How could he even know her sister? He nodded now, accepting that she did seem genuinely confused.
“Go see her; I’ll visit you when I can. I have to get back before its known I’m gone,” he said. As an afterthought he closed the distance between them with two large strides and cupped her chin once more in his hands. He slid his right hand down her throat and let it rest in the middle of her breast bone where he could feel her heart beating beneath his touch. He leaned forward and put his lips close to her ear.
“Remember to trust what you feel in here,” he said pressing firmer on the spot where her heart was thumping away uncontrollably.
Without another word he turned and ran across the field. Mid stride he leapt into the air, almost as if he were about to dive into a swimming pool or something, but instead he morphed into the graceful creature he was and flew off into the fog that hung across the mountain like a blanket.
Well if she thought she was going to get answers today she was wrong. Now she had even more questions than when she had first started out her morning. Cursing under her breath she made her way back to the road where her bike still lay on its side. She heaved with all her might and righted it back to a driveable position.
Cybele was the last person she wanted to see right now, but if she had the answers she was looking for then damn it, she was going to grit her teeth and bear it. She clicked over the bike’s engine and set off at a more sensible pace this time. No point in killing herself before she’d figured a little more of this out. Besides, if she was going to die than she at least wouldn’t mind kissing those soft lips once more.
****
Aiyana had checked that Cybele would be at work that evening, but hadn’t left a message to indicate she would be visiting, She rode her bike in the dark of night, for this was the time that her sister would be working her shift at a bar on the east side of town. It was a seedy joint, full of low-lifers and cigarette smoke. People who drank way too much and had life’s little perspectives all out of joint. They drank till the stupor overtook them and they ended up erupting in senseless fights which often resulted in the occasional death.
Aiyana had no time for them or for her sister for that matter. Sibling disputes between the pair had been more than most as they had grown into the adults they had become, but particularly the incident of their parents death had driven a wedge so deep between the two that it would seem their relationship would never repair, especially as they hadn’t spoken since an argument they’d had several years ago.
She was hoping for a little reception this evening, or at least getting the answer she was after. She parked her bike on the curb out front of the bar; neon lights of the joint flickering over the sidewalk as she stepped off. She decided her helmet wouldn’t be safe left outside and took it with her inside. She took a minute in the door way to let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting, and then proceeded to the bar and ordered a shot of tequila. She didn’t see her sister just yet, but tonight she was willing to be patient. She was about three shots in when she caught sight of her sister’s blonde mane in the corner of her eye. She looked terrible. Tired, aged and dirty. Not the beautiful girl she had once been envious of. She had more tattoos since Aiyana had seen her last – so much so they were visible even with her clothes on. It was all a little too late that her sister recognised that it was she who was sitting in her bar, tonight of all nights.
Her sister took a look around to see if anyone else could make the connection and then proceeded to make her way over to her. She leaned forward as though she was straining to hear the order her customer was placing before saying, “What in the hell are you doing here?”
The snarl in her voice was unmistakable, and Aiyana wasn’t quite sure she deserved all the venom that was being projected her way.
“I have some questions I need answering,” she replied, not really giving a damn whether her sister cared for her or not.
“I’m busy here, some people have real jobs to attend to you know,” she seethed, clearly taking a dig at Aiyana’s choice of occupation.
“I’ll wait,” she replied, determined to get what she came for.
“Suit yourself, you’ll be waiting a while, I’ve just started my shift” she said with indifference.
“
Fine. Well in that case you had better get me another round,” said Aiyana as she raised her empty shot glass, mildly satisfied that her sister had to do her bidding whether she liked it or not. Cybele grunted at her before pouring another shot of liquor and then left to serve other customers.
Aiyana nursed her drink for a solid hour before deciding to switch to water before she got too sloshed to drive her bike back home. She didn’t have Eilam here to keep her safe right now, but then again, would he? Could she rely on him, trust him? What had happened to him?
As the hours rolled by, Aiyana’s impatience grew to the point she almost gave up and headed home. Finally her sister called last rounds though and started to close the bar for the night. When the last customer exited the smoke filled room, her sister raised the tequila bottle in her direction and said, “You want another?”
“Sure,” she replied. She took up position on the opposite side of the bar where Cybele was gathering the pile of beer glasses that lay strewn on the bar top. The pale liquid was poured into the shot glass and Aiyana downed it with one gulp. It momentarily burned the back of her throat before returning to normal.
