The End Of Desire argi-8

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The End Of Desire argi-8 Page 15

by M. R. Sellars


  The world bloomed in front of me and settled to a muted shade of reality. The scream was fading from my ears, echoing the word “no” as it disappeared into nothingness. I let go of the poppet then slowly twisted around from my kneeling position and sat back in the snow. Pressing the blade lock with my thumb, I slid the back side of it across my thigh and snapped the knife closed. Holding it out toward my friend, I let out a heavy sigh.

  “That’s it?” he said as he took it from me.

  “That’s it,” I replied.

  “Okay… So whaddid you just do?”

  “I broke a binding.”

  “Broke a binding…” he repeated.

  “Yeah.”

  “That some kinda Witch thing?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Shouldn’t there’ve been sparks, or flyin’ monkeys or somethin’?”

  “Only in the movies, Ben…I’ve told you that a…”

  He cut me off. “I was kidding.”

  “Sorry,” I breathed. “I’m just not in a very humorous mood right now.”

  “Yeah, no shit… Okay… So, what happens now?”

  “I get cleaned up and go see my wife. Maybe even bring her home.”

  “Good plan, but I was talkin’ about with the Witch thing.”

  “Nothing, Ben. It’s over. I’m done.”

  He let out a harrumph and shook his head. “Ya’know, the way you were actin’ I woulda thought you were disarmin’ a bomb or somethin’.”

  I hung my head and sighed again. “That’s closer to the truth than you can possibly know.”

  CHAPTER 19:

  Soft light was filtering into the room when I awoke.

  I hadn’t yet opened my eyes, but I could definitely tell it was no longer dark. My brain was shrouded in the warm fog that hovers in the void between wakefulness and deep slumber. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew the pleasant confusion would be wearing off soon, even if I would rather it did not. I tried to embrace the sensation, but as always it was fleeting, and my grey matter was already telling me it was time to get on with the day.

  A momentary panic gripped me as flashes of memory were revealed through the rapidly dissipating haze. My heart fluttered, and although I feared what I might see, I slowly opened my eyes. The sudden palpitations began to settle as soon as I focused on my surroundings and saw the familiar trappings of my bedroom at home. I felt myself relaxing the moment I realized I wasn’t in a hospital room or even a sleazy motel hundreds of miles away.

  However, no sooner had it faded than it flared in a second attack when I rolled over and found myself alone in the bed. It dawned on me that there was a huge gap missing in my memory. I had absolutely no recollection of getting into the bed in the first place. I concentrated on what I could remember. In the forefront was the fact that I had checked Felicity out of the hospital and brought her home.

  Fortunately, that thought, combined with my nose, caused the burgeoning wave of anxiety to die out before it ever managed to fully take hold. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee was drifting through the house, locked in a battle with the smell of frying bacon as they both fought to overtake one another. That was all it took to remind me the month long nightmare was over.

  My stomach rumbled, expressing its displeasure regarding the fact that I still hadn’t eaten since the previous morning. Given that I hadn’t even managed to keep that particular meal down long enough to digest, the growling was not at all unexpected. It wasn’t that I hadn’t had an opportunity to eat; I just hadn’t been especially interested in food, until now that is.

  Throwing back the covers, I rolled up to sit on the edge of the bed. I rubbed my eyes then fumbled around on the nightstand for my glasses. Once I had them seated on my face, I stood and trudged into the bathroom before heading out to the kitchen.

  “What are you doing up, then?” Felicity asked when I finally came around the corner a few minutes later. The background Celtic lilt in her voice was a welcome sound in my ears.

  “Am I not supposed to be?” I asked.

  “I was trying not to wake you,” she replied, walking over then slipping her arms in around my waist and laying her head against my shoulder.

  I wrapped my arms around her and hugged tightly. “Pinch me so I know I’m not just dreaming this.”

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You aren’t.”

  “That’s good. I don’t think I could handle it if I was.”

  “How did you sleep?” she asked.

  “Good,” I said, pausing a moment before adding, “I think.”

  She pulled back and looked into my face. “You think?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I don’t remember much after… Well, much after sitting down on the couch last night to be honest.”

  “That’s because you fell asleep while we were talking.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “So, if I fell asleep on the couch then how did I end up…”

  “In the bedroom? I managed to get you up and guide you in there. You know, you actually follow orders very well when you’re asleep.”

  I let out a half chuckle. “Yeah. I bet you enjoyed that.”

  “It was amusing.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Aye, well it’s probably a good thing you don’t,” she said with a small grin. “Like I said, you follow orders very well.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m joking.”

  “Yeah, so you say.”

  She grinned again.

  “I really am sorry. I finally get you home, and then I pass out on you. Not exactly a homecoming to remember I don’t suppose.”

  “It’s okay. You needed the rest.”

  “Bacon’s burning,” I told her.

  “Ooops!” she said, slipping out of the embrace and hurrying over to the stove.

  I stepped over and pulled a mug from the cabinet then filled it with coffee. After a swig I leaned against the counter and offered, “I still shouldn’t have fallen asleep on you.”

  “Aye, it was obvious you needed it, Row. You were snoring loud enough to wake the dead.”

  “Trust me, they don’t need my help for that.” I took another swallow of coffee then topped off my mug and slid hers across the counter so she could reach it.

  “Thanks,” she said with a smile.

  “So, what about you?” I asked. “You’re the one we need to be worried about here. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. I’m fine.”

  There was something in the way she answered that told me otherwise.

  “I’m not convinced.”

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she focused on placing the finished bacon on a paper towel covered plate and then laying fresh strips into the skillet. When she was finished with that task, she simply continued staring at the pan, occasionally nudging the sizzling meat with a pair of tongs.

  “Felicity?” I pressed.

  She let out a sigh then looked up at me. “Aye, I’m fine. I really am.”

  “Honey, you’re sounding less convincing every time you say it.”

  Her shoulders drooped, and she gave her head a barely perceptible shake. “I know.”

  “So… Would you like to tell me the truth?”

  “I’m not sure what that is, Rowan.”

  “Well, what do you think it is?”

  “That’s the problem. I’m not even sure what to think, either.”

  I silently digested the comment for a short span then asked, “Is it because I did the binding on you?”

  “No,” she shook her head to punctuate the reply.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure about that at least. I’ll admit I’m not happy you did it, but I do understand why. The truth is I don’t have the right to be angry with you over that. If you recall, I once did the same thing to you for the very same reasons.”


  “That didn’t give me license to do it though.”

  “No, it didn’t. But, I would be a hypocrite if I held it against you.”

  “Okay… Then, is it something else I did?”

  “No. I think it’s probably more the things that I did.”

  I shook my head as I said, “You didn’t do those things. Miranda did. You had nothing to do with it. If anyone is to blame for that, it’s me. This never would have happened if I hadn’t done that binding.”

  “A binding shouldn’t have caused that, Rowan. Unless you were intentionally binding her to me, which I would find hard to believe.”

  “I agree. And, no, I certainly wouldn’t have done it intentionally. But, it still happened, so that means I fucked it up somehow.”

  “How?”

  “I have no idea. But I must have, otherwise we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation.”

  She took a moment to flip over the bacon strips and nudge them about the pan again. Finally, she looked up and said, “It’s not just the things I did, Rowan. It’s everything.”

  “Everything covers a lot of area, honey.”

  “Aye, it does,” she agreed. “What I mean is, everything that’s happened. The arrest… The time in the hospital… The fact that I suddenly have a half-sister-cousin or whatever who just happens to be a twisted killer. Who, by the way, is the product of my father screwing around on my mother with my aunt, which isn’t something a daughter really needs to find out about her dad. How do I reconcile that?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But, we find a way, and we do it together. And, if we can’t do it alone, we have Helen to help out.”

  “I’m… I’m just a little overwhelmed right now.”

  “I pretty much got that,” I soothed.

  “Aye,” she sighed. “Maybe I should just get us all booked on one of those stupid tabloid talk shows.”

  “They’d never go for it,” I told her, trying to interject a bit of humor. “You aren’t nearly strange enough for them.”

  “You don’t think so?” she quipped, her voice suddenly taking on a demanding edge. “How about if after we tell them all that, we clue them in that I’m a repressed, closeted dominatrix Witch whose husband has only just discovered after almost fifteen years of marriage that she’d really like to put a dog collar around his neck and explore a few sexual fetishes with him in the bedroom? Do you think maybe that would pique their interest?”

  I could tell by the look on her face that she had run directly into a wall of regret the moment the last word flew from her mouth. I paused, trying to think of what I should say. My delay in responding didn’t seem to help the matter because she hung her head and stared at the floor.

  “You have me there,” I finally returned. “I think that just might get their attention.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Rowan,” she said.

  “I know it isn’t,” I replied softly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you.”

  “No… I’m the one who should be sorry,” she muttered, turning back to the stove without looking at me. “I shouldn’t have just blurted that out. You’re probably having enough trouble with it already… Especially after what you’ve been through.”

  “What I’ve been through?” I asked, a bit of incredulity creeping into my voice. “You’re worried about me?”

  “Of course,” she mumbled. “And… I’m worried about us.”

  I placed my coffee cup on the counter then stepped over to her. Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I gave her a gentle squeeze. Her body was rigid, and I could feel the tension knotted up inside her.

  “Aren’t we a pair?” I mumbled. “Me worrying about you, you worrying about me, us worrying about us, and neither of us accomplishing anything other than driving ourselves nuts…”

  “Pathetic, isn’t it?” she whispered.

  “No… I’m pretty sure it’s just what makes us who we are,” I whispered in her ear. “And, just so you know, us is fine, sweetheart.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive,” I replied. “And, I seem to recall we’ve had this talk before. Your proclivities in that area didn’t come as a big surprise, and they aren’t a problem. You never needed to keep it a secret, especially for so long.”

  “There were times I almost told you,” she said in a low voice.

  “Well, you finally did and it’s all good. You had nothing to worry about. You’re just going to have to be patient with me.”

  “About what?”

  “That particular game. I’ve never played it, so you’re going to have to fill me in on the rules.”

  “Aye, so I haven’t so totally freaked you out that you’re going to leave me?”

  “Do you really think you can get rid of me that easily?”

  After a moment she whispered, “I love you.”

  “And I love you right back. Warts and all, my little repressed dominatrix Witch.”

  I felt her beginning to relax, and I gave her another reassuring squeeze.

  “Why don’t you get out a couple of plates,” she said. “Breakfast will be done as soon as I scramble some eggs.”

  “You got it,” I replied.

  A moment later, as I was digging silverware from the drawer, I glanced over at her and said, “Dog collar, huh? So, would I have to bark?”

  She didn’t look over at me, but even in profile I saw the corner of her mouth turn up as she said, “Only when I tell you to.”

  Tuesday, December 6

  9:07 P.M.

  Baton Rouge, Louisiana

  CHAPTER 20:

  Darkness had become light, and light had become darkness once again.

  Annalise hugged herself tightly as she lay naked in the empty bathtub. It had started out filled with hot water-as hot as she could bear it in fact. But that had been almost an hour ago. She had long since drained it but hadn’t been able to bring herself to climb out.

  Her first emotion had been fear, but that had quickly given way to confusion. The man, Rowan, had called her by name. He said they knew. But, how could they? How could they possibly know she was the one responsible for all the things she had done? The only answer that would come to her tortured mind was-Saint Louis.

  At least she was safe from them for now. Annalise Devereaux didn’t live here. Behind these walls, she was someone else.

  But, there was someone who knew where she was. She always knew. And, from Her she could never be safe.

  Annalise let out a low moan and shivered as she tried to curl into an even tighter ball. The air in the room was cool against her skin where her still damp hair laid in twisted strands across her shoulders and back. She had finally found the energy to pull a towel down from the rack and was using it as a makeshift blanket, but it wasn’t enough to completely cover her.

  She knew she should get out, dry off, and change into some clothes, but she didn’t have the strength. This had been going on for five days, and the increasingly hotter baths had become her only refuge. But now, they were no longer working. Simply moving was a struggle, and it only seemed to be getting worse.

  Miranda was being a bitch.

  The desire had been welling in Annalise for too many days now, but Miranda wasn’t talking. And, without Miranda, she had no way to appeal to Ezili for comfort.

  She was forsaken.

  She was being punished.

  At first, the tickle had been a pleasurable annoyance, but that pleasure didn’t last for long. Miranda never came to her. She knew she was there in the shadows, waiting.

  Watching her, but never touching.

  Never joining.

  Never making her whole.

  Very soon the tickle became the all-consuming itch, but still Miranda only watched. As always, with the itch came the need, and the need remained unfulfilled. Without Miranda, Annalise could only go so far. Miranda was in control of the gift, and it was being purposely withheld.

  Annalise had been denied any form of release, an
d that just made the need stronger. And as it grew, the need soon became an ache.

  No matter what she did, or how she tried to quell the fire on her own, it remained. Blazing through her body like a rampant fever. And now, the ache had turned to blinding pain.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she whimpered aloud, her voice thin and cracking. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked…”

  She felt her plea was falling on deaf ears. Ezili could not hear her, and Miranda was the hand of punishment. She didn’t care that Annalise was suffering. It was exactly what She wanted. Besides, She wasn’t being denied. She was taking her own pleasure in Annalise’s torment.

  It all came back to Saint Louis. She had tasted the fresh sweetness of the other. The one called Felicity. But, that sweetness had suddenly been taken away.

  Someone had to pay, and that someone was Annalise.

  On the heels of her whimper, the pain intensified. She knew Miranda was testing her to see just how much she could take-and delighting in every moment of her pain. She would have cried if her body had been able to produce tears, but they had long since run out. She could only close her eyes and whine.

  “Everything,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “Everything you’ve asked…”

  She held no expectation of a reply other than the sound of her own dry sobbing, as it had been her only answer each time she asked. Even so, she simply didn’t have the energy to be surprised when the familiar voice finally echoed inside her head.

  “No…” Miranda said. “Not everything…”

  Wednesday, December 7

  4:19 P.M.

  Saint Louis, Missouri

  CHAPTER 21:

  Ben and I were standing on the front porch of my house. Even though it was cold, something about being inside right at this moment made me feel closed in. Trapped. Even though he was my friend, I couldn’t help but feel cornered by him right now. I’m not certain that being out here really made that much difference in the way I felt, but I would take anything I could get.

 

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