Immortals- The Complete Real Illusions Series

by Tanya R. Taylor

  "Mister Winters let you stay here?" The girl asked, twirling a few strands of hair around her pinky without polite thought of introducing herself.

  Solange gazed at her for a moment, then said, "You must be referring to Greg, right?"

  The girl nodded.

  "Well, yes, he did."

  "Who are you? Where are you from speaking like that?" The little girl had a boldness about her that couldn't be overlooked.

  "I'm a guest of his from a far-away country." Solange approached her. "You live around here, little girl?"

  "I live anywhere, but mostly here."

  "Are you a runaway?"

  "No."

  "Do you have a mom and dad?" Solange probed.

  "No," the girl answered bluntly.

  "What happened to them? Who takes care of you, then?"

  "My dad's dead and mom's gone. That's all I know and I take care of myself — me and my aunt, anyway.

  Solange was puzzled by what her little visitor was actually saying. At first, she sounded as if she wandered the streets and lived alone, then she seemed to be implying that she didn't. However, surmising that the little girl's life was really none of her business, Solange decided not to hassle her with any further questions and resumed her hanging of the clothes.

  "I know Mister Winters," the girl continued. "I know him better than you do."

  Just as Solange looked up again, the little girl ran off without uttering another word.

  Greg arrived home for lunch shortly after three o'clock. Solange had previously prepared two tuna sandwiches and a jug of lemonade for him, thinking that all men had monstrous appetites. Her notion was a proven fact; at least in Greg's case when he gobbled down both sandwiches in less than five minutes and pleaded for another.

  He stuck around for a half hour more before leaving for work again, watching Solange hurry around the house, looking for more things to do.

  She wanted Greg to indulge himself in all the laziness he possibly could or wanted to while she was there to help out. Never before would she have catered to a man the way she did Greg and would not have trusted any man as much neither. There was just something special about this one that she couldn't quite put her finger on — something that reeled her in faster than she probably would have liked.

  Three

  ___________

  PROVEN DOMINION

  * 1 *

  Peter's bash was less than two weeks away and anxious to escort his beautiful secretary there, Trent decided to give her a call just before turning in for the night. He looked at his alarm-clock. It was 8:15. Definitely not too late to call, he thought.

  "Hello," she finally answered on the fourth ring in a seemingly gloomy tone of voice."

  "Hi. It's Trent; how are ya?"

  There was no reply and before long Trent realized that Tina was sobbing. He soon heard a man's voice in the background calling her derogatory names and insisting that she hang up the phone.

  "I… I…can't talk right now," she stammered.

  Trent heard heavy thumps in the background rapidly drawing near and knew that something was terribly wrong. The phone dropped and there was a loud scream - her scream.

  "Tina, pick up the phone!" Trent exclaimed. "What's going on there?"

  "Call the cops! He's hurting me!" She cried before the phone went dead.

  Tina's petrified voice sent shivers up Trent's spine and he figured that the worst thing he could do right then was to call the cops when he could get there just as fast, or faster. He darted out of the house in his boxer shorts, bare-chested, and bare-footed, and rushed to his car that was conveniently parked in front of his door.

  Recalling vaguely where Tina lived from attending a party there some months before, he drove as quickly as he could, hoping to God that his tight memory would slacken just in time and he would be lucky enough to find it.

  Overwrought and uptight, he drove along the highway at a speed of as much as eighty miles per hour without a squad car tracking him down. All he could think about was what was happening to Tina and the car just couldn't seem to go fast enough. However, his focus was soon abruptly diverted and he became dizzy. The wretched face of the Evil One then stared at him beyond the windshield. Trent shut his eyes tightly in disbelief, refusing to be overwhelmed with anything, but adrenalin, to get where he was going. Seconds later, he reopened them to the terror of heading straight on into a seventy-foot oil tanker truck. He quickly swerved to the side, missing the massive vehicle by only a few centimeters. By then, Tarrow's ghastly face had disappeared, but a sinister laugh echoed through the air.

  Shortly afterwards, he arrived at 147 Rivers Drive and hoped that he was on the right street to Tina's apartment. He cruised past five houses, a duplex on the left, then a yellow and white two-story apartment complex. That was it! The two-story building. He was sure of it.

  He reversed at a slant, then rushed inside to find her. The long hallway on the ground floor was illuminated with dozens of white recess ceiling lights from end to end. Remembering that 15 was her apartment number, he quickly found it.

  Trent banged on the door, then after no one appeared, leaned forward and placed his ear against the wood. He could vaguely hear sobs and shouts, and decided just then to think no more and instead, kick the door down. As the door flashed open before his eyes from the force of his right leg, he instantly spotted Tina lying face-down on the cold floor with her mouth taped and arms and legs tied so tightly that her flesh seemed to have curled around the thin wire. A tall, heavy-set man, somewhere in his early thirties with a harsh face and rugged features approached him.

  "Who the hell are you burstin' in here like a mad man?" The man demanded an explanation.

  "Seems to me like you're the frigging madman here; not me!" Trent accused, looking him squarely in the eyes. He started toward Tina, but the man stood in his way.

  "This is none of your goddamn business and I resent the idea of you barging in here like this," the stranger snarled.

  Trent felt this guy's rage, but could feel himself looming an even greater one. He pressed past the man and continued toward Tina, when suddenly he felt a yank of his arm. Immediately, the fury within him escalated to a degree he felt he could not control. He spun around and looked his enemy in the eye. His eyes illumined with bright green flames and his face turned flaming red. At that moment with one blow, he sent the stranger reeling across the room, almost plastering him to the concrete wall. The man then slumped to the floor, head and nose bleeding, eyes blurry and red. He was motionless. Trent quickly approached him feeling intense hatred inside, but at the same time fighting to hold himself back from doing more harm. He soon saw a leg twitch, then an arm budge, then the large man shook his head as if forcing the consciousness back into his brain. He was all right.

  Somewhat relieved, Trent reached down and hauled the guy up by the shirt, and threw him outside into the hallway. As the pressure abated and blood began to flow a bit more freely through his veins, Trent felt the beaming of his eyes dissipate and knew that at that tempting moment in time all control had nearly been lost; he could have killed that man with another single blow. But that was not important now, he soon decided; he had to tend to Tina. He rushed over to her and proceeded to untie her.

  "Are you all right?" He asked, helping her onto the couch.

  "I think so. I don't know what he would've done to me if you hadn't shown up, Mister Matheson."

  "Please call me Trent, Tina. We're not at work now."

  "I'm just sorry I couldn't get a better view of you kicking his ass!" She cracked a smile. Through the smile, however, Trent knew that she was hurting.

  "Your face…" he started, "…it's all bruised. Is there anything here I can put on it?"

  "Some ointment is in the bathroom cabinet. It's the first door on your left," she replied appreciatively.

  As Trent went to fetch it, Tina felt totally ashamed that her boss had to be the one to rescue her. She never would have imagined such a scene in a millio
n years.

  Trent soon returned with the ointment and a few cotton balls he had found in the cabinet. He sat down next to her and began applying some, at the same time noticing how beautiful she was in spite of the bruises.

  From the corner of her eye, Tina noticed his warm, empathetic expression. "I can't begin to tell you, Trent, how grateful I am for everything," she said.

  "I know you are. Don't mention it," he replied. "I'm just glad I was here to help. Who was that maniac anyway?"

  "His name is Jeff; he's my ex-boyfriend. I ended the relationship a month ago."

  "I see," Trent returned, not inclined to push the matter any further.

  "After work today, I stopped by the mall to pick up an outfit that I had on layaway for a few weeks and spotted him in the same store with another woman, holding hands." She coughed, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "I just walked by; didn't say a word to any of them and Jeff didn't say anything to me. He just kept looking as if he expected me to do or say something, but I simply collected what I went there for and left."

  "So, what happened afterwards?" Trent asked, suddenly changing his mind about the subject.

  "Around seven, he came by to talk. I let him in, but told him we had nothing more to talk about and that I never wanted to see him again. He tried convincing me to hear him out, but I didn't think that any explanation was necessary. Well, afterwards, I went to the front door, opened it and asked him to leave and when he noticed how serious I was, he flew into a rage and started attacking me. You called right in the middle of it. I don't know how I managed to get to the phone in the first place." She paused for a moment. "Anyway, I knew he was cheating on me from the start of the relationship, but tried to see it through. But today I knew I couldn't take anymore of his abuse - physically or mentally."

  "I'm sorry, Tina," Trent said, holding her close to him. "You know none of this is your fault; you should press charges against him."

  "Oh, no," she pulled away a little. "I just want to put this whole thing behind me and move on."

  "Okay. I won't pressure you, but one day, that guy is gonna really get what he deserves."

  Tina smiled, then kissed him on the cheek. "Ahh..." she moaned as she rubbed her neck. "I feel like I need to lie down right now."

  Trent stood up and gently pulled her up with both hands. Looking passionately into her eyes, he said, "Will you be all right?"

  Tina smiled, "Yes. I'll be fine. Thanks again for everything."

  "I'll give you a call in the morning to see how you're doing, okay?"

  "Thanks, but by morning I should be fine. A hot bath and a few aspirins, and I'll be up and ready to go," she replied, somewhat exuberantly.

  "You're not thinking of working tomorrow. Are you?"

  "For me to miss work, I'd have to be crippled or dead - you know that. And it's not a tactic for an immediate promotion or raise, even though I could sure use one," she added jokingly.

  "Take the day off," Trent insisted. "I'll inform Peter that you won't be in."

  "That's very kind of you, but if you do that, eventually the entire office might think that something is going on between us."

  "Isn't there?" Trent replied adoringly, still holding her hands.

  "Do you want there to be something between us, Mister Matheson?" Tina returned with a cunning smile.

  Trent leaned in and kissed her on the lips. "It would be an honor for me," he said.

  Tina walked him to the door, at the same time thinking that if Trent Matheson was serious about his dating proposal, she might just be the luckiest woman in the world.

  * 2 *

  Solange had made a daily habit of sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch after finishing her chores. She enjoyed the fresh air while watching all the insignificant happenings of the neighborhood, including little boys "playing hookey" from school every now and then as they headed out to the lake with their fishing rods and bait in hand.

  One day while out on the porch, she noticed an old lady dressed in a long, black dress with a brown scarf wrapped around her head, cross the street and enter a small, white house at the end of the block. A minute or so later, she saw the little girl with dingy brown hair advance from the side of the house and walk in behind her. Immediately, Solange suspected that the old lady must have been the aunt the little girl had mentioned to her.

  A sinister air about the lady discomforted Solange and she couldn't imagine that woman as the guardian of such an innocent young child. The lady hadn't seen her - hadn't even looked her way and Solange felt relieved.

  The sun shone brightly that day; midday temperature was at a high of eighty degrees and despite adequate ventilation, the interior of the house was like a furnace, so, as Solange enjoyed the little breeze that blew across the front porch, she ended up drifting off to sleep right there.

  An hour later, the totter of the rocking chair woke her. Its squealing sound vibrated her ear-drums the instant it moved. Then she felt a light, warm touch on her neck. With her heart beating fiercely and her mind invaded by horrific thoughts, she slowly looked behind. It was the little girl from down the street.

  Solange pulled the girl toward her. "What's your name?" She insisted.

  "Laurie," the girl replied innocently.

  "Do you have a surname, Laurie?"

  "Emerson."

  "All right, Laurie Emerson, what are you doing here? You almost scared me to death!"

  "Sorry, Miss, but I thought I'd come by and see how you were. I like you."

  Feeling more relaxed now by Laurie's reply and leaving wandering thoughts about the girl behind, Solange said, "My name's Liza. You can come and visit me anytime, all right? Just don't scare me like that again."

  Laurie nodded with a smile as if instantaneously soothed by Solange's words.

  "So, you attend school nearby, Laurie?" Solange asked.

  "My aunt says school's no good, so I stay home with her and she teaches me everything I need to know," Laurie casually remarked, much to Solange's surprise.

  "Is the elderly lady dressed in dark clothing your aunt?"

  Laurie nodded.

  "Did she tell you why she thought school was no good?"

  "No, but she knows everything. She even saw what happened…the whole thing!" Laurie said.

  "What thing? What are you talking about?" Solange was concerned.

  Laurie quickly withdrew. "I have to go now, Liza. My aunt needs me. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" The little girl hurried off, by no means awaiting a response.

  * 3 *

  As the days passed and they frequently spent time together, Tina soon forgot about Jeff. Trent had quickly made his mark as a gentleman - more of a gentleman than she ever knew him to be and she liked it. Trent knew he was falling in love; his affection for Tina was rapidly growing and this time, he didn't mind. He felt secure and happy with her - unlike he had ever felt or ever allowed himself to feel with anyone else.

  Since the fight with Jeff, Tina had missed two days of work and was grateful that she had. She realized that if she hadn't taken Trent's advice to rest and to recover, she would have placed herself in a rather embarrassing situation. She could hear the mutters behind her. The bolder co-workers would have tossed personal questions at her like a bowling ball and when at last everyone knew her business and drove her up the wall with their badgering, she would have felt more pain and humiliation than she felt the night Trent showed up to rescue her.

  As two weeks of vacation finally drew to an end for Trent, he realized his working relationship with Tina was now slightly compromised. Would they be able to maintain an air of professionalism at all times and pretend that they didn't have the slightest interest in each other? On the other hand, shouldn't something as wonderful as this be shared with other people or should it be kept hidden until they were certain that the right time had arrived to disclose it? There were many unanswered questions, rarely discussed between them. The first day, perhaps, would be the greatest test of whether or not th
eir blooming affair could remain a secret.

  On arrival at the office early Monday morning, many smiles and greetings awaited Trent, each with a slightly chipper tone to it. Everyone was happy to see him.

  He was decked out in a three-year-old Italian suit with matching silk tie and shiny, black, leather shoes and though he rarely wore new clothing, he always managed to be the best-dressed man in the office - in the entire building for that matter. His exceptional good looks greatly complimented his wardrobe and every available woman in the building wished she had his heart.

  He rested his briefcase on the office desk, then went over to the window and looked down at the busy street.

  "So, you're back," went a voice behind him. "How was it, buddy?"

  Trent turned around. "I enjoyed it. It was... relaxing, Pete, my friend."

  "I trust you got those batteries all charged up."

  "Yeah. I'm more than ready to roll now. Haven't felt this good in ages." He smiled.

  "Sounds swell, partner. Hey, what about the party Saturday night? Still comin'?"

  "Sure, I'll be there. Don't start without me."

  Just minutes after Peter left, Tina entered the room and quietly shut the door behind her. "Good morning, Mister Matheson," she saluted with a certain radiance.

  Trent approached her with a grin and kissed her. "I could've sworn you said that before, Miss Sheffield."

  "Thought I'd come by and give you a special 'welcome back' greeting," Tina remarked, fetching Trent's work tray from the fire-proof cabinet. "I heard you're well-rested. Guess that means that by this afternoon this tray will be empty, huh?"

  "I'll do my dire best," he replied.