by S. J. West
I feel my eyebrows draw together with her use of the word 'lover'.
"Not a lover?" She asks, shaking her head.
"Not yet," Chandler answers with a sigh. "We're working on it."
I feel my cheeks burn.
"Maybe I can help with that," I hear Malcolm say.
I look over at Malcolm who is still standing on the far side of the room with Isaiah.
"Oh yeah?" Chandler says to him. "What are you thinking?"
"I say we ambush Mason," Malcolm replies. "Dress Jess up, make a romantic setting and throw him into it."
"Doesn't sound like much of a plan," Chandler says, completely unconvinced it will be enough to work. "But guess it's worth a try."
"Excuse me," I say. "Don't I have to agree to do that first?"
"Do you want Mason back or not?" Malcolm asks.
"Yes, but…"
"No, there's no buts," Malcolm replies. "The only way to make Mason see reason is to force it on him. I thought you would be willing to try anything."
"Well, I am but…"
"Ok then," Malcolm smiles but it makes him instantly look like he's up to no good. "Leave the details to me."
"Dress up?" Jojo asks. "I will handle the dressing up. How much time do I have?"
"I say the sooner the better," Malcolm says. "Give me until tonight to get things ready."
"Ok, now that we're through planning Mason's ambush," I say, "maybe we should try to concentrate on finding the fourth vessel." I look over at Isaiah. "Could you take us back to Mason's villa? It seems to work there the best, at least for me."
Once we're back in the living room at the villa, Chandler, JoJo and I stand together facing one another and make a circle holding onto each others hands.
"What do I do?" JoJo asks barely able to control her excitement.
"I concentrate on the noises from the fire," I look over at Chandler. "Did that work for you?"
He nods. "Yeah, just try to block out everything else except that."
JoJo nods, causing her curls to bounce in unison.
We all close our eyes and concentrate. After a few minutes, I open my eyes.
"Not working for me," I say, feeling confident it's not my emotional baggage that is causing the problem this time.
Chandler and JoJo open their eyes. JoJo shakes her head, indicating she didn't see anything either.
"Nope," Chandler confirms. "Nada."
"Maybe you just need more time together," Isaiah suggests. "Jess, you and Chandler spent time alone together before it worked. Perhaps the two of you simply need to spend time with JoJo before you try again."
"Come back to my studio," JoJo urges us. "I will make you a dress for your date with your future lover."
"Do you think you could stop calling him my lover?" I ask as delicately as I can.
I don't want to offend JoJo's choice of words, maybe it's a language barrier problem, but I can't say she isn't making me feel extremely uncomfortable with that particular term.
"We haven't even kissed yet, much less become lovers."
"Désolé, I forget you American's are so…umm what's the word… provincial. But you want to become lovers, oui?"
I bite my lower lip and glance from Chandler to Isaiah, not exactly comfortable having this conversation in front of them.
"Dire non plus," JoJo says, squeezing my hand. "I will make your dress and we will see what happens. If he tears it off of your body, do not worry, I will make you another."
Chandler smirks and Isaiah just looks extremely uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. I'm pretty sure my face is so red I look like a tomato.
“Don’t suppose you could make it so I can become invisible whenever I want?” I ask, wishing I had such a magical piece of clothing at that very moment.
JoJo just laughs. I almost tell her that I’m completely serious but hate to drown her enthusiasm with my sarcasm.
When we make it back to JoJo's studio she ends up asking me questions about Mason like his favorite color, his hobbies, ect ect. I suddenly realize I don't know most of the answers and can only guess at them. It's strange that I should know more about Chandler in that regard than the man I'm in love with. I make it a priority to learn everything I can about Mason as soon as he'll let me.
JoJo calls in a team of seamstresses to help her with my dress. She decides to make it out of light colored lavender silk. The dress ends up being far classier than I thought she was planning to make at first. With all the talk of clothes being ripped off, I assumed it would be something rather skimpy. But, the dress ends up being something you would wear to a fancy party where long dresses with billowy material are expected.
The gown she creates is simple and classic. With its sleeveless bodice and ruched top, it shows off my shoulders and certainly lifts my breast to new heights. The waist is encircled with a sown in belt made of dazzling crystals and the skirt is long and free flowing. When I walk around the room in it, I feel the extra material attached to the back flow in the air like I have a permanent wind flowing around me.
JoJo calls in her personal stylist who applies my make-up and curls my hair letting the strands cascade over my shoulders. It's similar to the style I wore to the masquerade ball. I begin to wonder if everyone in the world except me has a personal stylist.
Once I'm primped for my proposed ambush of Mason, I stand in front of JoJo's large, gold framed mirror, which is almost as tall as the glass walls in the room, and stare at myself. I have to admit. I really do clean up pretty nice when I have a team of stylist and designers to help out.
Chandler puts his hands on my bare shoulders and starts to massage them for me. It's only then I realize how tense I am.
"Don't look so worried," he tells me. "You know it doesn't matter what you wear, right? He loves you."
I look at him in the mirror.
"It only matters what you say," he reminds me.
"And that's supposed to make me feel less nervous?" I laugh.
"No but don't get caught up on how you look. You're gorgeous even in your Watcher uniform. All Mason is going to care about is what you say to him. Don't leave anything unsaid, Jess. Lay all your cards on the table. If he doesn't pick them up then at least you'll know you did everything you could to make him see reason. I just want to see you happy. I don't like seeing you so sad. You know I can feel it right?"
I hadn't even thought about that.
"I forgot," I say. "Can you turn it off or do you always know what other people are feeling when you touch them?"
Chandler smiles. "No, I can turn it off, but I like knowing how you feel. I like feeling the love you have for me. It makes me feel…loved." He says with a shrug, not having a better way to put it.
"Vous êtes belle," JoJo says, coming to stand beside me, a twinkle of pride in her eyes as she looks at me in her dress.
I have a feeling she called me beautiful, so I don't ask for a translation.
"Well, if that doesn't grab his attention, I'm not sure what else will."
Directly behind me is Malcolm. I turn to face him.
"Are things ready?" I ask, raising a delicate eyebrow at him. "Whatever it is you have planned."
"Yes, the stage is set. Are you ready to go get your man?"
I nod. "Yes."
"Good luck," Chandler says, giving me an encouraging smile.
"Bonne chance," JoJo says, kissing me on both cheeks, and I know she's wishing me luck too.
Malcolm holds out one of his hands to me and I accept it.
In an instant, we're standing in Mason's living room in his Colorado home. A multitude of white candles are lit around the room creating a soft glow. An array of flower arrangements are practically on every surface making the room look like a florist shop. A blazing fire is burning in the corner fireplace and there is a scattering of red rose petals leading from where I stand into the hallway, stretching as far as I can see from my position.
"It's a trail," Malcolm says, seeing my eyes follow the
stream of petals out of the room. "It leads from the elevator to you. I wanted to make sure he couldn't miss you."
"Why are you doing this?" I ask Malcolm, turning to him. It seems like such an uncharacteristic thing for him to do for me.
"Consider it my apology for treating you so harshly in the beginning," he replies, looking a bit chagrined. "Plus, Mason is a good friend. I don't like seeing him in so much pain."
"Do you have any idea what I can say to make him change his mind about leaving me?"
"The only good advice I can give you is to let him see how you feel about him. Don't hide anything. He's going to play the stubborn card but don't let him get away with it."
I nod, having already decided on that. "I won't."
Malcolm looks me up and down in carnal appreciation. "And if he doesn't take advantage of what you're wearing, I'm always available."
I feel my mouth gape open at Malcolm's obvious insinuation.
He simply laughs before phasing away, leaving me alone to wait for Mason.
I look down at my dress to make sure everything is in its proper place. When I look back up, I see a man standing in front of me, surrounded by a black aura, who is definitely not Mason.
"Hello," Asmodeus says before grabbing my arms and phasing me.
Chapter 6
Asmodeus phases me so many times I begin to feel like my body is turning into jelly, much like the time Mason phased me over and over. But this feeling is a hundred times worse because Asmodeus doesn't seem to care he's hurting me and continues to phase us until he finally reaches his destination. Once there, he lets go of my now bruised arms and I fall to the grassy ground in a heap of silk.
When I finally regain a little bit of my strength, I force myself to look at my surroundings. We're in a field I recognize. It's the same non-descript field Mason and I went to when we tried to follow Lucifer and Asmodeus from the Watcher apartment complex. I'm filled with a small ray of hope that Mason might actually find me here but realize the chances of that happening are slim to none.
"Did you have some of the rebellion angels helping you cover your trail from Mason's house?" I ask.
Asmodeus smiles. "Pretty smart for a monkey. Yes, so don't expect to be rescued. Not even Lucifer knows where we are."
"What do you want with me?"
"I want to kill you."
I close my eyes wishing I had the strength to call on my sword but knowing I would lose it to Asmodeus even if I did have it. I simply wasn't physically strong enough in my current condition to wield its power anyway.
"Why?"
"Because you're making Lucifer weak,” Asmodeus says scathingly. “I've never seen him care one wit about a human's well being before you."
"Why is that so bad?"
"Because it's causing him to lose focus on what we need to do."
"Which is?" I ask, hoping Asmodeus' hatred of me and over confidence makes him say things he shouldn't.
Asmodeus kneels in front of me on one knee and practically spits in my face. "You won't live long enough to find out."
"What are you waiting for?" I ask. "Kill me."
"I can't kill you directly because I was ordered not to harm you," Asmodeus replies, filled with regret. "But Lucifer didn't give that order to another one of my brothers."
"So we're waiting on him?"
"Yes. He will be here soon."
"Is he another prince of Hell?"
Asmodeus grins. "We thought you might have figured it out by now. But I take it from your earlier question you still don't know what we're up to."
"We’ll figure it out and stop you."
Asmodeus laughs harshly. "Good luck with that when you're dead."
Another man phases in and I have to assume he's my executioner. He's taller than Asmodeus by a few inches with short red hair and a craggy face wearinga grey flight jacket and black jeans. Just like Asmodeus and Lucifer, he has a black aura surrounding him.
He looks down at me in complete disgust.
"Mammon," Asmodeus greets the new arrival, "please dispose of this puny human for me."
"You're sure Lucifer doesn't know of this plan?" Mammon asks, eyeing me like a roach he's about to step on.
"Do you think I would be so stupid? Of course he doesn't know. Now kill her so we can be done with it and force him back to the way he should be."
Without even giving it a second thought, Mammon strides up to me and grabs me by the throat, easily lifting me up in the air. I feel his fingers close in towards my windpipe making it impossible for me to breath. I try to pull his hand away from my neck but can't find the strength to even grasp his arm. I suddenly wish I were invisible.
I feel myself fall to the ground.
"Where the hell did she go?" I hear Mammon scream. "I just had her!"
I place a shaky hand on my throat trying to draw in a breath but finding it impossible. My throat feels completely closed.
"I don't know," Asmodeus says, coming to stand by Mammon. "There isn't a phase trail so she doesn't have the power to phase."
"She couldn't have just vanished into thin air," Mammon argues.
"And yet, she did," Asmodeus says, not mad just intrigued by my disappearance. "Let's go. Lucifer’s probably already wondering where we are and I don’t want to raise his suspicions."
Mammon and Asmodeus phase away while I still attempt to take in a breath. Just before I feel like I’m about to pass out, I'm able to draw in a small amount of air into my lungs. I close my eyes and use my last breath to call the one person I hope who can hear me.
"Zeruel."
I fall back onto the ground.
Just before I completely lose consciousness I hear, "I've got you, Jessi."
I hear agitated voices. Two men are having a heated argument but my mind is far too muddled and my body too tired to make an effort to understand what they're saying. I desperately try to claw my way out of the black abyss I'm in, but I don't even seem to have enough strength to open my eyes. Giving up, I let sleep over take me, drowning me in its wake.
I feel a pair of strong arms enfold me. I don't know if it's a dream or reality but I smell Mason's particular woody scent mixed with a touch of cinnamon.
"Don't leave me," I beg.
"I'll never leave you," I hear Mason say and hope I'm not dreaming.
"Jessi."
I hear my father's voice and open my eyes.
I'm in my bedroom covered up to the neck by my comforter.
"You came," I say, feeling tears of happiness that my dad heard me call to him.
He smiles down at me. "Of course I came. I told you I would if you asked me to."
I struggle to sit up but still feel weak. My dad puts his hands under my arms and lifts me like I don't weigh anything at all. He props me against the pillows at my back. I look around the room and feel my heart sink with bitter disappointment.
Mason is no where to be seen. I must have just been dreaming that he was holding me and promising he would never leave me.
"What's wrong?" My dad asks.
I shake my head, not having the strength to tell him why I'm crying.
"Are you looking for Mason?"
I gasp, wondering how he knows.
"I just thought…" I close my eyes, allowing myself to relive that small moment of joy I felt in the dream when I thought he was with me, holding me in his arms, promising to never leave me again.
"Jessi, look at me."
I open my eyes and look at my father through the veil of my tears.
"Mason was here. He just left to go get some of his things because we weren't sure how much longer you would be asleep."
"He was here?" I ask, needing to know it wasn't just a dream or a hallucination.
My dad smiles at me. "Yes, he was here. You didn't dream it. That's what you're thinking right? That it was a dream?"
I nod. "But why? What made him come?"
"When he saw the phase trail in his living room, he knew you had been taken. From what I heard,
he had every Watcher in the world helping him try to find you. When you called for me, I found you and brought you here. He almost attacked me when he saw me in your house," my dad chuckles. "I had to explain to him who I was and thankfully he believed me. After I healed you, he refused to leave your side. I finally told him to crawl into bed with you to hold you, hoping that would heal the shock your mind was in. That, more than anything I think, helped you the most."
Directly behind my father, I see Mason phase into my bedroom. He's wearing a grey sweater, much like the black one he wore the first night I met him. His eyes find mine and I see the relief he feels from seeing me fully awake.
"Hey," I say, feeling shy all of a sudden.
He smiles and my heart lights up like a firecracker on the 4th of July.
"Hey," he says back.
My dad stands up. "I think you two have a lot to talk about. I'll be in the living room if you need me."
When my father walks out of the room, Mason sets his black leather overnight bag on the floor.
He looks back at me, unsure what to do next. I extend one of my arms towards him, beckoning him closer. He quickly closes the distance between us, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips to place a gentle kiss on top of it. Sitting down beside me on the bed, he holds my hand like it's the most precious thing in the world to him at that moment.
"Did you mean it?" I ask him.
"Mean what?" He asks, looking confused.
"You said you would never leave me," I remind him, even in my delirium I can remember his words clearly. "Did you mean it?"
"Yes," he says. "I'll never leave you again." He looks down at our joined hands. "I never should have left you the first time. Maybe if I hadn't…"
"Don't drive yourself crazy with maybes," I tell him, placing my free hand under his stubble covered chin to force him to meet my eyes. "The important thing is that you're here now. And I hate to be the one to inform you, but I never intend to let you leave me again. Is that understood?"
A lopsided grin graces his face. "Yes, that's understood. It's not something you ever have to worry about anyway. You're pretty much stuck with me now."
