“Come again?”
“Look, Ben, I’ve been told at every turn to stay out of this. By your superiors, by Detective Fairbanks this morning, and at least a dozen times by you over the past few weeks. So, that’s what I’m doing.”
“I thought ya’ said you’d been at the library?”
“I have.”
“Well, the way you’re talkin’, it sounds more like ya’ been hangin’ out in a bar gettin’ trashed. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re up ta’ your ass in all of this no matter what anyone has said.”
“I can’t help it if our investigations overlap.”
“Now you’re just bein’ an asshole again, White Man.”
“Call it what you want, but I’m not here looking for Annalise. I’m looking for Miranda.”
“Oh, so now you’re a friggin’ ghost cop, are ya?”
“Sure. Why not? Obviously somebody has to do it; I guess it might as well be me. Look at it this way-I’m giving you what you want. I’m staying out of your way.”
“Fuck me,” he spat then paused. A second later he added, “Like I said before, I think you’ve lost your goddamned mind. When’s the last time you got some sleep?”
“You’re the third person to ask me that today,” I said. “It’s starting to get a little old.”
“Been awhile, huh?”
“That’s irrelevant, Ben. This whole thing got personal the minute Miranda decided to use Felicity as a horse. You don’t really think that’s going to stop just by finding Annalise and locking her up do you?”
“Shit, I don’t know,” he huffed. “I ain’t mister Voodoo guy. It’s all just one big freak show as far as I’m concerned. Hell, I sometimes wonder if I’m a half bubble off for believin’ any of it.”
“You’ve seen too much not to believe, Ben.”
“Yeah, and that’s the problem…” he sighed. “So, tell me… What’re ya’ gonna do now that ya’ think you’ve found ‘er?
I puffed my cheeks then blew out a heavy breath before answering. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”
CHAPTER 11:
Their reprieve had been too long, and I was growing impatient. I needed to be satisfied and these constant interruptions were making that need even harder to bear. If that little bitch in the kitchen knew what was good for her, she would get on with her work and stop pestering me.
I started back up the stairs, pausing only for a moment when I thought I heard my name being called yet again. The tickle deep inside was growing, and it was all I could do to stand there in silence, waiting. But, I heard nothing other than the sound of my own heart as it began to race faster with anticipation. Turning, I gathered my dress in front of me and started back upward, my shoes striking with a deliberate thump against the wooden planks. Before I was even halfway through my climb, I could hear their muted sobbing filling the short voids between my footfalls.
My excitement welled in a warm rush that traveled all the way into my stomach, forcing me to catch my breath in a sudden gasp.
They feared me. I could feel it. I could even taste it on the air as I began to take shallow breaths through my parted lips. This was how it should be. Their fear and their pain were my pleasure. It was how they showed their love for me. And, it belonged to me-as did they.
I stopped at the top of the stairs, standing perfectly still for a short moment. The tickle was becoming the itch that would soon be exploding through me, making my knees go weak and my passions flare; but I knew that at this moment it was only the beginning. Very soon that itch would be everything. And, all that I needed to make it happen was just on the other side of the door.
I unlocked the barrier and pushed it open. A small swath of dim light fell across the room. The door creaked on the un-oiled hinges as it swung wider. I entered slowly, savoring the promise of what was to come before turning and pressing the door closed in my wake.
They were moaning, at least those who could. Some of them were even sobbing quietly. Their misery fueled my desire. I stepped with determination across the room, the soles of my shoes clacking lightly against the floorboards.
I stood near him in the darkness. I could hear him mumbling, and it sounded as if he was praying. I smiled to myself at the very thought, imagining that his prayers were not to God, but to me as his Goddess.
I started to step away, but my foot hit something soft that made me almost lose my balance. I felt it move as I shuffled then heard it whimper as I thudded against it again. One of them was on the floor. I couldn’t tell if it was a woman or a man, but that mattered little. I gathered my dress up and stepped on it. The thing let out an animal-like wail, but I ignored its pleas, and instead I reveled in its misery. After a moment I continued across the room.
The shutters clunked as I swung them open, allowing the afternoon light to spill in. It was growing late, but the illumination seemed bright in the shadowy room. I glanced around at the others. Most had provided me with fruitful entertainment. Those that did not were no longer here. But, my sights this day were not set on them. I was here for the new arrival.
I moved deliberately back across the plank floor, returning to my station near his head. He was chained to a low table-nude and bound at the wrists and ankles. He was pristine but for a few telltale signs of the lash. Looking at him, prone and helpless, I felt the itch ignite my entire body.
It was time.
I shuffled over to a small table and wrapped one hand around the handle of a bone saw then gathered a cloth rag into the other. With excitement welling in the pit of my stomach, I stepped quickly back and stood over him. Forcing his mouth open, I stuffed the filthy cloth into it then took hold of his hand and pressed the serrated edge of the saw against his wrist just below the shackle.
“Now,” I said, my voice dripping with sweetness. “Let us see how much you love me, little man.”
I was just preparing to draw the toothed blade through the first layer of his flesh when the door opened. I looked up to see my sister standing there, a frown creasing her face.
“Miranda,” she admonished. “I should have known I would find you here.”
“I need it, Delphine,” I told her between short, panting breaths. “I need it now.”
“Our guests will be here in less than two hours.”
“I know,” I appealed. “I promise this will not take long.”
She stood staring at me, and I at her. The itch had overwhelmed me now, and I could feel myself trembling. I needed release, and I was certain she knew it. I had seen her in this very same state more than once.
“Delphine, please…” I begged.
She slowly pressed the door shut then turned and walked toward the table. The corners of her mouth twisted into a knowing smile as she knelt and took his hand from me.
“Get some rope to tie it off first,” she said softly. “We would not want him to die just yet.”
I awoke to the sound of my travel alarm chirping from its position atop the rickety nightstand.
I was sprawled out on the bed in my room at the Airline Courts. Contrary to what I had told Ben earlier, I had actually chosen to sleep on it. Although, I hadn’t bothered to turn it down, nor did I get undressed. I suppose that somewhere in my exhaustion, I had come to the conclusion that as long as I had a few layers between me and it, the creeping crud wouldn’t be able to get to me.
My mouth was dry, and my heart was thumping hard in my chest. I felt more like I had been running laps than sleeping. My head was killing me, not that such was unusual these days, but for some reason, between lances of pain I was seeing an image of a saw. I didn’t know exactly what it meant, but it was seriously disconcerting because each mental flash of the serrated blade left me with that bizarre feeling of feminine arousal deep inside.
I rolled over and stretched out, grabbing the twittering alarm clock and switching it off. I had set it for 6 P.M., and the digits were displaying 6:07. Apparently it had taken several minutes for it to get my attention, which was a te
stimony to how tired I really was. I placed it back on the nightstand, causing the dilapidated piece of furniture to rock and thump against the wall. Rolling back, I pushed myself up and sat on the edge of the bed.
I needed to call Felicity. Not only had I promised her I would, but I needed to hear her voice again too. Something else I needed to do was eat. The diet of aspirin and coffee was starting to take its toll, and I was actually feeling the need to fill my stomach with something solid. Unfortunately, that bizarre tickle combined with the phantom memory was causing the very thought of food to make me nauseous.
After several minutes of holding my head between my hands, I rocked forward and stood. In an almost catatonic stupor, I dug through my overnight bag and pulled out my shaving kit then trudged into the bathroom to make an attempt at washing away the last eighteen or so hours of my life.
Friday, December 2
3:07 P.M.
St. Louis Cemetery #1
New Orleans, Louisiana
CHAPTER 12:
Obeying the blinking signals on the car leading me, I turned right onto Saint Louis Street, continued along the short jog, and then made a quick left and almost immediately pulled to the curb. I shifted my vehicle into park then took a moment to rub my eyes. I was awake, but I still felt like I could use more sack time, several days worth, in fact. That was the problem with sleep. Once you had gone without it for as long as I had, you played hell trying to get caught up. And, it seemed that the more you got, the more your body wanted. Not that I had managed to get all that much, but it had apparently been enough to give my body a taste of what it was like-which wasn’t working in my favor at the moment.
Last night I had tried to crash again after speaking to Felicity and then making a quick run to a drive-thru and tossing down a less than stellar burger. Unfortunately, my slumber was really no more restful than the afternoon nap that had preceded it. I couldn’t even blame the nocturnal activities of my neighbor for that fact either. No matter how hard I tried to program myself with pleasant thoughts, the repetitious nightmare wasn’t about to leave me alone. Without fail it interrupted each cycle before it was even fully started, effectively keeping me from getting any true rest. I don’t suppose I would have minded that so much if I had learned something useful in the process. However, I never actually remembered enough of the details to know if the repeating terror was important or just my subconscious desperately trying to rescue itself by casting out the sick memories.
It wasn’t until the sun was already peeking through the small window of my room that I managed to drift off for any extended period of time. As it turned out, that was only for a few hours before I was jarred awake by Doctor Rieth calling my cell phone. Given the fact that I probably would have slept right through our planned meeting, I suppose it had been for the best.
I finally stopped rubbing my eyes then reached over to the passenger seat and rooted around in my backpack. After a moment I pulled out a small, point-and-shoot digital camera. I stuffed it into my jacket pocket then shoved my hand back into the pack and retrieved a fresh bottle of aspirin I had picked up earlier this morning.
My headache was bearable for the moment, but the persistent dull ache had started ramping up a few minutes ago and had gradually increased the closer we got to our destination. Since I had a minute I figured it might be a good idea to see if I could head some of it off at the pass. I had just broken the seal on the bottle when Doctor Rieth knocked on the window.
She was in her mid-fifties and stood average height. In truth, she looked much like the photograph on her book jacket. Shoulder-length hair that occupied a hue somewhere between blonde and strawberry. Her features were pretty, but her expression seemed to change little. Except for a quick smile upon our initial face-to-face meeting a little earlier, she had worn a sober mask that spoke to her academic ties. Still, her eyes betrayed untold wisdom that I suspected was born of experience, both good and bad.
I quickly tossed a few of the aspirin into my mouth and swallowed them dry, causing a lump to rise in my throat. Then, I left the bottle in the console and climbed out of my vehicle.
“Headache?” Doctor Rieth asked across the top of the car.
“Yeah,” I answered with a nod, choking the pills the rest of the way down.
“How many aspirin did you take?” she pressed.
“Probably not enough,” I told her as I hooked around the front of the rental and joined her on the sidewalk.
She shook her head. “You know, that probably isn’t very good for you.”
“Yeah. It says that right on the bottle.”
“All right then,” she replied. “I’m not your mother.”
“Thank you for recognizing that fact, Doctor Rieth. Most of my friends don’t.”
“I thought we had agreed to dispense with formality?”
“You’re right,” I said with a nod. “Thank you, Velvet.”
“For what it is worth,” she continued. “I would suspect their concern is what makes them your friends.”
“Uh-huh. That’s the argument they use too.”
She gave me a nod then turned and started walking down the sidewalk. The high walls surrounding the cemetery were rife with signs of their advanced age. However, it was also obvious that great care had been taken to maintain them over the years, and they even appeared to be an eternal work in progress.
The entrance itself was a gaping mouth, and its teeth were iron gates that were now propped open. There was something altogether eerie about the invitation they presented. I wondered if it was just me, or if Velvet viewed it in the same way. If she did, her expression didn’t let on.
We covered the relatively short distance between our vehicles and the entryway in a matter of a half-minute, both silent as we walked. I made the turn as we reached the gate, starting through without really slowing down. However, before I managed to cross the threshold, the good doctor’s arm shot across my path, barring my way. I stumbled against my momentum then caught myself and took a step back.
“What?” I asked.
“What are you doing?” she asked in reply.
“Well… I thought I was going into the cemetery, but I guess I was wrong?”
She shook her head. “You need to give them an offering first.”
“Oh,” I replied, unsure of what else to say.
She gave her head another shake then asked, “Do you have any change with you?”
I shoved my hand in my pocket then dug around and extracted all of the loose coins I managed to find. Holding them in my palm, I used my index finger to spread them out and display them to her. “This enough?”
“It’s really not as much about the amount as the effort and respect,” she told me as she nodded at my hand then showed me the similar pile in her own. “Just let them know you have a gift for them and ask permission to enter.”
“I can’t say that I’ve ever done this before,” I offered, a hint of embarrassment in my voice.
“Have you gone into cemeteries before?” she asked.
“Yeah, of course.”
She sighed. “Then I suspect you’ve offended a few ancestors.”
“Great.”
“Don’t worry about that now. You’ll all get over it,” she told me with a quick shake of her head. “Just do it right this time.”
“Anything special I’m supposed to say?”
“No, just speak from the heart. Tell them you’re bringing a gift and ask permission. It’s not hard. It’s like showing up at a dinner party with a bottle of wine and knocking on the door.”
“And then I just walk in?”
“You’ll know what to do,” she said and smiled for the second time since we’d officially met. “Believe me, if they don’t want you to come in, you’ll know it.”
“Okay,” I replied, unable to keep the apprehension out of my voice.
I stood next to her before the opening and tried to gather my thoughts. I had absolutely no idea what I should say, but after look
ing through at the closely arranged rows of tombs, I began to speak.
“Greetings…” I said then hesitated.
I glanced over at Velvet in search of reassurance but found little, as her eyes were closed and her lips were moving in a silent greeting to the spirits.
I turned back to the opening and started again, speaking softly but still aloud, though I’m not sure why. “Greetings. My name is Rowan, and I’ve come to visit you…for…well, for some very important reasons. I’ve brought you this token…”
I wasn’t sure quite what else to do at this point, so I held out my hand to display the coinage.
The day was pleasant with the temperature resting in the upper fifties. With the sun shining there had been no reason for anything more than the light jacket I had donned when I left the motel. However, a slight chill ran up the length of my spine causing me to shiver involuntarily. It lasted only a moment and was then followed by soothing warmth that flowed over my entire body. My anxiety was instantly replaced by comfort.
Just as Velvet had said, I knew in that moment that I was welcome.
“Put the coins over here,” Velvet told me, stepping forward and placing her own in a receptacle just past the gate.
I followed suit, and though she hadn’t verbally instructed me to do so, I mimicked her overt motion that made the coins clatter noisily. Still, I glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow.
She recognized the question in my face and immediately explained. “You want them to hear it. They need to know you are actually leaving the gift you promised.”
I simply nodded.
Apparently, she felt at home in the cemetery as it seemed to be loosening her staunch expression more than a little.
“Rowan,” she said with a slight smile. “You can talk here. It’s okay. Just keep your voice low.”
“Okay,” I answered with a nod. “I just wasn’t sure.”
“Well, you can. Oh, and in case I forget, don’t just walk out the gates. When we leave, we’ll say goodbye, thank them, and then back out.”
The End Of Desire argi-8 Page 10
