Oxford Shadows

by Croslydon, Marion

  Did all these people live in Oxford? She must have asked her question out loud because Aurélie replied.

  “Only those of us in Oxford and London could make it tonight. It was too short notice.” The words flowed out of Aurélie’s mouth with a sensual mix of guttural and soft sounds. Her French accent was more pronounced than Madison remembered from their previous, albeit brief, encounter in Louise’s prayer room a week earlier.

  “It didn’t need to happen tonight.” Madison wasn’t sure what it would entail anyway.

  The black woman towered over Madison, but her height didn’t tone down the sultry vibes emanating from her curvaceous body. “We are keen to welcome you. We’ve been waiting to welcome you for so long.”

  “I’m … I’m not … I’m not sure …” Madison stammered.

  Aurélie took hold of Madison’s hands and lifted them. Her thumbs started massaging the center of Madison’s palms. The priestess’ skin felt like silk against hers. Her touch untied the knots that had formed in Madison’s muscles on the journey from Oxford. The Baptist church hadn’t been her final destination. Louise, in a chauffeur-driven silver SUV, had picked her up there and brought her to this farm half an hour from the city center.

  “You will be fine,” Aurélie murmured. “Do not worry.” She continued the massage.

  Madison let the soft pressure untangle her emotions and diminish her apprehension. She allowed herself to surrender to Aurélie’s hypnotic voice, to her reassuring presence. Doubts knocked at the door of her consciousness, but she refused to heed them; her desperation to find some peace was overwhelming.

  “What are you wearing under your sweater?” Louise’s question hauled Madison straight out of the state of abandon Aurélie had induced. “We need to access your skin and it’ll get stained anyway.”

  “Stained?” Why would a nun want her to go skinny-dipping?

  Madison’s concern caused her aunt to frown.

  “Do not worry, child,” said Aurélie. “We’ll take care of everything. Give what you are wearing to your aunt, then follow me.”

  Aurélie had an answer to all her questions, to all her concerns. Not having to think, not having to worry was something Madison enjoyed … at least for tonight. She pulled her sweater off and dropped it over her satchel, which lay at her feet. Underneath she was wearing only a black tank top. Aurélie pointed at her shoes and signaled for her to remove them as well. Madison obeyed and her bare feet soon met the cold, rough surface of the stone floor. The crowd—whose skin colors went from dark mocha to pasty white—proceeded through the gates of the barn into the night, leaving Madison and Aurélie behind. Chilly air wafted inside, causing goosebumps to break out on Madison’s skin, triggering a sense of exposure.

  Aurélie smiled at her and tipped her head toward where the people had disappeared. Madison felt as if she was on a cliff top and everyone expected her to jump off. By her side, Louise squeezed Madison’s elbow and gently pushed her forward. Even her aunt wanted her to. Forcing one foot in front of the other, Madison headed stiffly outside.

  The barn stood on the edge of a field. The expanse of grass basked in the silver glimmer of the moon. The dampness of the ground turned her feet and the bottom of her jeans wet. The believers had congregated in a half circle around a fire, facing what looked like an altar. When Madison approached the source of light and warmth, the attendants moved aside, making way for her. Their eyes were fixed on Madison, full of expectation, burning with blind faith. She lifted her chin and ignored them. She had attended similar rituals with Mamie back home.

  That was when the drumming and the humming started. She walked around the fire to the front of the altar, where Aurélie held a cup toward her, inviting her to drink its contents. The liquid, a spicy wine, caressed her palate. Soon a cinnamon aroma lingered on her tongue. Sip after sip, warmth snaked down her throat, slowly spreading throughout her body, clouding her thoughts. Her skin tingled.

  “This is Ogou.” Aurélie’s eyes were set on a wooden, primitive statue. “He is the spirit of Earth and fertility.”

  The voices of the crowd covered the drumming by reciting Our Fathers and Hail Marys. A song replaced the prayers, first in French, then a litany in Creole followed that celebrated all the saints. They also spoke of loas, the lesser deities who acted as messengers between voodooists and God. Aurélie explained all this to her in a low whisper at her side.

  Having started slowly, the believers worked themselves up into a frenzied dance. The music resonated louder and louder in Madison’s head. Liquor circulated, loosening inhibitions. Madison’s vision slowly blurred, her senses gradually numbed. She lost track of time.

  As morning dawned, Madison stared through the blackened windows of the chauffeur-driven SUV. They were heading back to Oxford and the relative safety of her room. Her gaze flickered over the landscape by the side of the road. The golden hues of the sun blinded her, despite the barrier of the window. She blinked and fought off the migraine pounding between the walls of her skull. Shutting her eyes, she focused on leveling her breathing.

  Visions shot through her mind and an acrid taste sprang into her mouth. She swallowed hard. Her hand flew to her chest and vibrated over the loud beating of her heart. She failed to control a moan. From the driver’s seat, an imposing black guy turned around to check on her. The sorry smile she gave him reassured him: she wasn’t going to throw up on his expensive-looking leather seats.

  Looking down at her body leaning against the car door, her hand moved up from her chest to her throat. Her skin was cold against her fingers. She imagined the blood was still there, its wetness sprinkled all over her from when Aurélie had cut the throat of the goat. There must have been something in the wine because if she had been clear-headed she would have gotten the heck out of there.

  A shiver rushed from her ribcage and ended at her fingertips in a painful tingle. More images of the previous night hit her, and her head jerked back against the backseat. The snake had slithered along Aurélie’s shoulders and arms. The image made Madison’s head jolt forward; the cold touch of the leather seat against her skin was too similar to how the reptile felt.

  When the spirits had taken possession of Aurélie, she had undulated, knelt and thrust her ample chest upward. Madison hadn’t felt or seen anything. If spirits had been there, she had missed them entirely. How could she be so special if her powers weren’t strong enough to pick up on this? Surely The One wouldn’t have missed that. A bitter chuckle shook her shoulders. Another quick frown from the driver. Another fake smile from Madison.

  Then they had thrown the dead goat into a pool of brown, bubbling mud and many believers had jumped in afterwards. Madison didn’t have any recollections after that.

  Had the wine been spiked?

  The SUV slowed down. They were driving through Oxford. St. Aldate’s was devoid of cars and people when the driver halted along the sidewalk opposite the entrance of Christ Church College. What the bowler man in his hut under Great Tom would think of her arrival, Madison preferred not to consider: a foreign grad back at the crack of dawn, being dropped off by a dark-windowed, chauffeur-driven car. The gossip wheel would be in overdrive. Everyone would think she was moonlighting as an escort or something equally scandalous. She shrugged. It probably paid much better than her job as a research assistant.

  She stepped out of the car, slammed the door behind her and waved a thank-you to the driver. The fresh air helped with her nausea. Her stomach screamed out for some food. The apple she had munched on before leaving her room the night before had long since been processed.

  The car disappeared at the Carfax roundabout. The silence Madison was left with spooked her. She clutched her satchel tightly against her chest. The bottom of her cellphone protruded from the front pocket. She took it out and checked the screen.

  Ten missed calls. Crap.

  Five messages. Uber crap.

  All from Rupert. He had been looking for her. Finally. But she’d missed him. Her heart sank
under a mix of disappointment and hope.

  23

  BABY 4GIVE ME. WAS TOTAL MORON.

  CALL ME.

  WHERE R U? CALL ME BACK?

  COMING TO URS.

  He had sent the last message at 1:28 A.M. After that, radio silence. Had he come to Christ Church? If he had, he would have found that she wasn’t in her room. Her absence in the middle of the night was incriminating. The thought of Rupert knocking at her door, of what he must have assumed, made her want to hurl. She hadn’t been tangled up with the sexy waiter. She had been … hell, she would have to spill the beans to him about her nighttime excursion.

  A car passed her by, and the acrid smell of its exhaust fumes unsettled her stomach again. Her legs became numb, and she feared she would collapse on the sidewalk. Bending forward, she laid her palms on her upper thighs and took in a lungful of air.

  God, she needed him. It hurt thinking just how much. Tears tipped over her eyelids and cascaded down her cheeks. She didn’t want to need him. She wanted to manage on her own. Because one day he would go away. He would fall for someone else and leave, just like her own dad had called it quits when he had knocked up her mom. And it was the best Madison could wish for Rupert. She didn’t have a future, not one of her own at least. There had always been the dead people wandering through her life and her dreams. Now she had invited Aurélie and her followers into her life as well.

  She sniffed and ran her index finger under her runny nose. Her other hand clenched her cellphone as she struggled to accept Rupert’s concerns for her. He had called her. He had apologized. He had wanted to see her, to check on her. That knowledge settled her churning stomach. The nausea receded.

  She sniffed again, dried her cheeks with the back of her knuckles, and stood back up. The only hands she wanted on her were Rupert’s. The only lips caressing hers had to be his. His body was the only one she wanted to feel against her in the mornings. There might never be more than those moments for them. There might never be any happy ever after for them because he would have to get tired of all the madness in her life. But, surely, there could be a few more chapters to write in their story.

  A hiccup made her shoulders heave. She grabbed her satchel from the sidewalk, slung it across her shoulders and broke into a run. Jericho, and Rupert’s house, was a mere twenty minutes away. She needed to get there in double-quick time today to reassure him, show him she was okay. She had made it. Out of breath, her hair dangling over her face, she rang his bell. It was 6:05 A.M. If he had come to Christ Church just before two A.M., then the night had been short for him. Unless he hadn’t slept at all. Thinking the worst of her, he might have run straight back into Harriet’s bed, or buried his head between the ninnies of the busty blond she had seen at the Turf.

  The snapshots of what could have happened turned into a full-on porn trailer. And Madison wasn’t cast in it. The burning sensation in her heart caused her stomach to harden. Her hands joined each other on her chest in a silent prayer.

  Please, God, make sure he’s still mine.

  The wide black entrance door with its silver handle opened wide to reveal Rupert. The sight of him blew a heatwave over her body. His chest was bare and his cotton pajama bottoms hung for dear life from the tips of his hips. The V of his lower stomach—parted in the middle by a thin line of hair—disappeared into his trousers.

  It felt like seeing him for the first time.

  Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. She forced her eyes to climb upwards, from his stomach, to his pecs, his mouth, the sexy mess of his hair … and his misty gaze. Sleep still clouded his vision and the morning sun made him blink. He tipped his head forward and lifted up his hand to protect his eyes, finally registering her presence.

  “I’m sorry,” Madison blurted out. “I wasn’t with anyone else last night. I mean, if you didn’t find me in my room I—” I’m babbling.

  She didn’t finish her sentence. Rupert had bridged the space that gaped between them. His fingertips brushed her lips, stopping the flood of words. He squatted down, and his gaze caressed her.

  “I know,” he simply said.

  His hands cradled her face, while his thumbs started massaging her temples. He didn’t talk but his eyes on her were enough to appease her fears, enough to ignite the fire in her soul. His mouth brushed hers and sucked on her lower lip. He withdrew and she swooned forward as if to beg for more. He didn’t fulfill her plea. Instead he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her up so her legs circled his waist. Their lips were touching again, his tongue ravaging her mouth. He spun around and stepped back inside the house.

  She heard the door slam behind them and Rupert’s body pinned her against the door. Their kiss didn’t break and she surrendered to its breathlessness. If he stopped, she would die. His hips started pounding against her, and she opened herself to him. Completely. For the first time, she let every cell of her body go. She buried her hands in Rupert’s hair and pulled him to her. He resisted and nuzzled his face in her neck, leaving a trail of kisses and tender bites.

  “Take me, please.” She shut her eyes. “Take me … here.” Her cheeks burned.

  For the first time, his lips broke contact with her skin. The sudden absence of sensation made her open her eyes wide in panic. He stared at her. His trademark eyebrow arch questioned her demand.

  “I need you.”

  “Condoms are upstairs.” His voice was hoarse and he lowered his gaze. “Let me …”

  “No. I want you … here.” A thrust of her hips accompanied her demand. “Now.”

  His mouth crashed against hers again, and their tongues collided against each other. He let her slide slowly down the door until her feet landed back on the floor. In swift movements, he pulled off her sweater and unbuttoned her jeans. They slid down her trembling legs. When they crumpled beside her feet, his hands caressed their way back to her waist and his fingers slid underneath the silk of her panties. They followed the same destination as her jeans. Rupert knelt at her feet, staring up at her, the flimsy material of her tank top covering her. Her nipples had hardened and pointed against it.

  His gaze almost set her ablaze.

  He circled her knees and then slowly walked his hands up to her bottom. When he stood back up against her, he lifted her right leg and wrapped it against his waist, settling against her aching groin. His hand slid between them, between her naked intimacy and his jeans. He unzipped them. At last, she could feel his soft skin resting against her lower stomach. He froze and his breath tingled at her neck.

  Madison waited until she couldn’t anymore. “I need you,” she begged. “Please …”

  His head jerked backward, and she saw pain in his eyes.

  Her hand flew to his cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  “I want you to know …” He closed his eyes as if under strain. “I need you to know how much I adore you, how much I revere you. I will never let anything or anyone hurt you.” His forehead came to rest against hers, and he buried his stare into hers. “Your pain is my pain. If you die, I’ll die. I love you.”

  The last three words made her gasp for air. A tear fell down her cheek. She shifted against the door so her legs spread wider. He entered her. Pleasure drizzled through her consciousness, and she focused on the throbbing and delicious pain coming and going in and out of her. Soon she could only hear the wood of the door creaking under the pressure of their merged bodies.

  24

  RUPERT SHOULD HAVE expected that what was supposed to have been strictly a “family affair” would turn into a full-blown extravaganza. The one hundred or so visitors, most of whom he hardly knew, weren’t what he had wanted for his birthday. A quiet dinner with Madison, his father and stepmother was more what he had had in mind: no musicians, no army of waiters, no mindless chatter, although with Camilla involved, the latter wouldn’t have been one hundred percent guaranteed.

  “You don’t need to stay with me. I can fend for myself, you know.” Madison gave him a light shove with her shoulde
r.

  He looked down at her. Her head didn’t reach his shoulders and the reminder of how small she was tweaked at his heart. His fingertips traced a line from her wrist up along her arm, then back and forth on the same route. She shivered.

  Rupert leaned forward so that his mouth was only a couple of inches from her ear. “Let’s bail, shall we? I can show you some of Magway’s hidden secrets.”

  Madison pouted with disapproval and gave him a light tap on his chest. “So your father will think I’m even more trashy than he already does?” She shook her head. “No way.”

  “Baby, I’ve shagged a lot of trash, and so has my father, I can assure you. You have a long way to go before getting there.”

  His eyes caressed her elegant neckline, the soft curves of her shoulders … there was nothing remotely trashy about Madison. He knew how deeply the prospect of tonight had worried her and how long she had agonized over the choice of dress, issues Madison didn’t usually think about. But she had wanted to look her best. For him.

  The knowledge triggered a giddy, fuzzy feeling inside him. He shook himself and slid his hand onto the small of her back. Gently, he pulled her toward him and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. The floral scent of her hair triggered the memory of their make-out session an hour earlier.

  Sex had never been this good. He had to clear his throat and pray for the material of his trousers to be … resistant enough.

  Madison picked up on his temporary discomfort. She leaned against him and whispered, “Need some support?”

  “You’re getting cheeky, you are.”

  “I’m sorry about asking you to do it without protection … you know, the other morning.” Madison blushed, which was very rare. “You know I’m clear.”

  Rupert enlaced his fingers with hers. “I don’t want you to worry about it either. I’ve always used condoms. Even with Harriet.” Madison grimaced at the mention of his ex. “I get tested twice a year, and you were the only other girl since the last test. As far as the other potential outcome, I want you to know …” Because Madison had cast her gaze downward, he cradled her face and forced her to look back at him. “I want you to know that I won’t let you down.”