The End Of Desire argi-8

by M. R. Sellars

  “Quick and bright. No wonder you love me.”

  “This game is over. It’s time for you to leave. I’m not going to tell you again.”

  “Not just yet.”

  I didn’t respond. Instead I simply turned and started toward the stairs.

  Ben reached out and grabbed my arm. “Wher’re ya’ goin’?”

  I shot a glance back at Felicity then turned to face him. “I’m sure our guest is thirsty,” I said. “I thought I’d go get her a big glass of salt water so she can be on her way. You’d like that, right, Miranda?”

  “You do not… want… to do… that,” she interjected with an odd faltering in her voice.

  The hesitation seemed uncharacteristic based on my previous encounters with this Lwa, but I was certainly no expert in the field, so I wasn’t sure what to make of it. For all I knew, it was some sort of trick.

  I snapped back at her, “Then leave and I won’t have to.”

  “I… I am…” she started, the hesitation growing worse. “I am not… going… to do… that… just yet.”

  She appeared to be struggling with something unseen. Not just the words but also something on the order of an outside influence. Her expression changed between each syllable, and her eyes would go from a cold stare to a vacant wandering each time. I started to wonder if my wife was fighting back. I could only hope that she was.

  “Then you don’t leave me any choice,” I said.

  I wasn’t going to take any chances. Whether Felicity was locked in some manner of ethereal tug of war or not, she needed help. I started toward the stairs again.

  “It… will not…” she said then suddenly halted.

  “What? Won’t work?” I called back to her. “It did before, and I’m betting it will again.”

  I hadn’t gone any more than five paces when a pitiful sob hit my ears. I turned back out of a confused sense of curiosity and saw tears streaming down my wife’s cheeks.

  “I’m not playing this game, Miranda,” I spat before turning and starting away once more just for good measure. As I said, I didn’t trust her.

  “Rowan… Help me…” she wailed.

  This time I stopped dead in my tracks. The voice calling my name held every bit of the Celtic lilt that identified Felicity and not even the barest hint of the Southern accent so prevalent in the Lwa’s manifestation.

  “Row?” Ben breathed, shifting his gaze back and forth between the two of us.

  I turned and stepped back toward her. “Felicity?”

  “Help me…” she moaned, leaning her body against the vertical support as if she was completely spent.

  “Give me the key,” I said to Ben.

  “What?”

  “Give me the goddamned key to the handcuffs!” I demanded again.

  He dug in his pocket and fished out a key ring then shuffled through it before handing it to me with one pinched between his fingers. “Try this one. Those aren’t our cuffs so I dunno if it’ll fit.”

  “You didn’t cuff her?” I asked, taking the keys and starting toward Felicity.

  “She was like that when I got down here, Row,” he replied then asked, “Are you sure about this?”

  “I don’t know if I’m sure about anything anymore, Ben,” I said.

  I knelt next to my wife and slipped the key into one of the handcuffs. From this angle, I could see in through the door to her office, and I noticed a purple overnight bag sitting on her desk. It was the same one that had once been seized as evidence when she had been charged with Annalise’s crimes, simply because it was a repository of Felicity’s “toys” from when she had been directly involved in the BDSM community well before we had ever met. I hadn’t seen it since the last time Miranda had made her presence known through my wife. Obviously, she had tucked it away down here.

  Things began to gel inside my pounding skull. One of the last times a possession had occurred, Felicity had tried to kill me and had almost succeeded. She must have sensed this one coming on and decided to make sure that couldn’t happen again.

  I twisted the key and it unlatched the restraint. I carefully opened it and slipped the metal circlet from my wife’s bruised and scraped wrist and then undid the other. Sitting down on the floor, I gathered her up into my arms and held her.

  After a moment of stroking her hair as I slowly rocked, I looked up at Ben and Constance and asked, “Would one of you please go get me a glass of salt water before that bitch comes back?”

  “I’ll get it,” Constance offered as she turned toward the stairwell.

  “Aspirin, too,” I added. “Just bring the whole damn bottle.”

  CHAPTER 40:

  “Rowan, I’m fine,” Felicity stressed for the third time as she set about rearranging a stack of clothes she had just placed into her overnight bag.

  On the surface, the habitual manner in which she placed, removed, and then replaced items into the bag in a bid to defy the laws of physics would normally lead me to believe her comment was true. But, the image of her tear-streaked face was still playing back inside my head, with her desperately pleading whimper as the background score. If I wasn’t over it yet, I didn’t know how she possibly could be.

  “Fine?” I replied. “Funny, you weren’t fine an hour ago.”

  “Of course I wasn’t,” she countered without looking up. “But, like you said, that was an hour ago. Time heals, doesn’t it then?”

  Her voice was confident, but her normal Celtic lilt had given way to a much heavier brogue, which wasn’t at all surprising. She had to be just as exhausted as the rest of us, probably more so, and that’s when her accent was at its thickest.

  “I think they were talking about a little more time than an hour.”

  “I’m a fast healer.”

  “Uh-huh… Sure… You know, the last time this happened you checked yourself into a psych ward, or have you forgotten that?”

  “The last time this happened I was scared.”

  “You seemed pretty damn scared to me a little while ago.”

  “I was,” she said with a curt nod. “But, now I’m not. Now I’m just pissed off.”

  I knew she wasn’t just saying that for effect. She meant it. Any sense of fragility that had been coming from my wife in the past weeks was completely gone, replaced in total by a mix of anger and determination. This new emotion burned so brightly behind her eyes that it defied any description I could muster. In a very real sense, her present attitude frightened me almost as much as everything else that had happened.

  “Look,” I said. “I’ll admit that you’re probably the strongest person I know, but you have limits. We all do. After everything that’s gone on in the past twenty-four hours, not to mention the past month, I find it really hard to believe that you’re suddenly okay.”

  “Well, I am.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Is that so? Welcome to my world.”

  “Come again?”

  She stopped packing for a moment and gave me a serious stare. “Are you telling me this doesn’t sound at all familiar to you, then?”

  “Should it?”

  “Aye.” She nodded. “I’m not saying anything to you now that you haven’t said to me yourself time and again. For the record, I never believe you either.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “It just is.”

  Her eyes flashed as she opened her mouth to fire off a retort; but before any words came out, she closed it again and simply stared at me. A few seconds later her expression softened, and she slowly sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed.

  “We can’t keep having this argument, you know,” she told me.

  I let out a heavy breath of my own. “Yeah… I guess we’ve covered this ground before, haven’t we?”

  “We’ve worn it barren,” she replied with a flat huff.

  “I guess we have… And, it doesn’t get us anywhere, does it?”

  “Of course not. We’re both too s
tubborn.”

  “Maybe so,” I agreed. “But, I still think you have me beat in that department.”

  “Aye. It’s a family trait.”

  “So I’ve noticed,” I said with a halfhearted grin. I paused then added, “I’m just worried about you, honey. This has gotten to be too much… For either of us.”

  “I know you are,” she replied. “And, I understand why. I really do… And, you’re right… It has… I’m just ready for this to be done.”

  “Me too… So, how do we make that happen?”

  “To start with, we don’t run from it.”

  “I’m not so sure I agree.”

  She shook her head. “You’re only saying that because it’s me she’s after. If it were you then you’d be rushing headlong into it. I know you would. You’ve done it before.”

  “I suppose I have,” I agreed. “But…”

  “That’s different?” she interrupted.

  “Yes, it is,” I said. “But, actually what I was going to say is, at least I was dealing with someone who lived in the same plane of existence as me. Miranda is another story entirely.”

  “She is,” Felicity said with a nod. “But, I think Annalise is the answer to dealing with that.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.” She blinked and shook her head.

  “Then why do you…”

  She spoke up before I could finish the question. “A feeling.”

  “A feeling,” I repeated.

  “Aye. Sound familiar?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “I thought it might.”

  A soft knock came from behind me, so I put further comment on hold for the moment.

  “Hey,” Ben said, a questioning look on his face as I swung open the door. “You two about ready?”

  “Close,” I said. “Probably just a few more minutes.”

  “‘Kay,” he replied. “Get a move on. We need ta’ go soon.”

  “Ben?” Felicity spoke up.

  “Yeah?”

  “I really am sorry about your hand.”

  He held up his bandaged paw and gave it a quick glance. As it turned out, the wound had initially looked far worse than it really was. Once cleaned up, it had only taken a bit of homegrown first aid in the form of antibiotic ointment, a gauze pad, and some tape.

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “Remind me not ta’ really piss you off.”

  “Aye, like that would work?”

  “Yeah, right,” he replied. “Listen, Row, can I see ya’ out here for a minute?”

  “Needing to talk about me behind my back, are you?” Felicity quipped before I could respond.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much the plan,” Ben returned, a joking tone in his voice. “Actually, I really just need ta’ verify some stuff.”

  “Go ahead,” Felicity said, looking up at me. “I’ll finish up here.”

  “Okay,” I told her. “I’ll be right back.”

  My wife stood up and returned to her prior task as I left the bedroom, swinging the door shut behind me. I followed Ben out to the living room where Constance was waiting for us, a concerned look creasing her features.

  “So, how is Felicity doing?” she asked. “Honestly.”

  “She says she’s fine,” I told her.

  “Do you believe that?”

  “For the time being, I think so,” I replied with as much confidence as I could muster, given that I wasn’t entirely sure if I believed my own words. “The real truth is, she’s had enough. We both have.”

  “What about her episode? Do you think it will happen again?”

  I shook my head. “Hard to say. I thought she would be safe from that sort of thing here, but obviously I was wrong. The salt water helped. The Lwa seems to have a fear of it, which is good. So, we’re going to try it as a preventive as well.”

  “I called Helen, Row,” Ben interjected. “We can move Firehair back to the hospital instead of the safe house if ya’ want.”

  “I’m not going to do that to her,” I replied, shaking my head. “And, I think you’d be hard pressed to get her to agree to it. You’d probably have to arrest her.”

  “I already told you full blown protective custody had been seriously considered and was always an option,” Constance chimed in. “And, I’ll be honest, after what happened I’m still not ruling it out.”

  “That won’t fix the problem,” I objected with another quick shake of my head.

  “But, will it keep you both safe? That’s the real issue here.”

  “In the short run, sure,” I said. “In the long run, it’s just more hiding.”

  “There’s no shame in that, Row,” Ben offered.

  “It’s not shame I’m concerned about,” I said. “What I want is to make this all stop.”

  “We all want that,” Constance said. “But, even though we both believe you about the Lwa, we’re completely out of our element where that is concerned. We have to deal with what we have at hand, and that is Devereaux.”

  I nodded. “I understand that. What I need you to understand, however, is that this is coming to a head. And, I’m afraid it’s going to take some sort of collision between the three of them to resolve it.”

  “You mean, Annalise, Felicity, and Miranda?” she asked.

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “And, how do you think that’s going to happen?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  Constance shook her head. “If you’re talking about a physical confrontation, Rowan, we simply cannot allow that. It’s our job to protect you, not put you in harm’s way. Truthfully, right now, I’m not even willing to put Felicity back on the phone with Devereaux again.”

  “Believe me, I’m no more in favor of a physical confrontation than you are,” I replied. “But it just might be necessary. Perhaps even inevitable.”

  “Why?”

  “To get Felicity clear of Miranda.”

  “How?”

  “That’s an answer I wish I had, believe me.”

  “And, that’s the only way?”

  “It might be.”

  Constance fell quiet, a deeply thoughtful look on her face. After a moment, she amended her earlier statement. “Maybe once Devereaux is in custody, we can work something out. But, not before then, that’s for sure. It’s far too dangerous.”

  “This some kinda Twilight Zone thing, Row?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah, but not mine,” I said with a sigh. “It’s Felicity’s.”

  “So she’s doin’ la-la land too,” he huffed.

  “Not exactly,” my wife’s voice came from the end of the hallway, right where it emptied into the living room. “It’s just a feeling.”

  I turned and saw her standing there, arms crossed. Her expression was actually one of mild bemusement.

  “Sorry,” she said. “But, you did admit you were going to talk about me behind my back. You didn’t really think I wouldn’t listen in then, did you?”

  “So much for reverse psychology,” Ben muttered.

  “So, this feeling… Is it like the visions Rowan gets?” Constance asked, apparently unfazed by the fact that Felicity had been eavesdropping.

  “Aye, I suppose so. Yes.”

  “You gettin’ anything specific from it?” Ben asked.

  “Just that Annalise is somehow key to me getting free of all this.”

  “I assume you heard what I just told Rowan?” Constance asked.

  “I did,” Felicity answered with a nod. “But, it’s really my choice then, isn’t it?”

  “No, I’m afraid it isn’t.”

  My wife sighed, looked at the floor for a moment then back up to Constance. “All right then. I know I don’t have the right to ask this, but I’m going to anyway. You’ve both already been breaking the rules. Can’t you break just one more?”

  “Felicity,” Constance breathed, shaking her head. “I understand what you must be…”

  “Please?” my wife appealed.

  Constance sighe
d heavily and looked at me with a pained expression before finally turning back to her. “What are you asking us to do?”

  “Give her what she wants.”

  “She wants you dead.”

  “Yes, I know, but what she really wants is Miranda back.”

  “How do you propose we give her that?”

  “Simple. You give her me.”

  “Not happening!” I objected immediately. “We’ll find another way to get through this.”

  “Jeezus,” Ben interjected. “Are you nuts, Firehair? No way.”

  “They’re right,” Constance added, shaking her head vigorously. “That’s just insane.”

  “I don’t mean literally,” she explained. “I mean set a trap for her with me as the bait.”

  “I’m sorry, but that isn’t even an option,” Constance told her. “This is real life, not a mystery novel.”

  “Aye, then what do we do? Sit around waiting for her to knock on the door?”

  “No. We make certain that the two of you are safe, and we keep looking.”

  “You can’t protect me from Miranda, then. Nobody can.”

  “Felicity,” Constance said. “This simply isn’t how things are done.”

  My wife shook her head. “I need this to be over… I need it to be over now.”

  Constance dropped her forehead into her hand and massaged it for a second before huffing out an exasperated breath and looking back up at Felicity. “It’s not going to happen. But, maybe I can compromise with you if I can get it approved.”

  “How so?”

  “Again, this hinges on approval from my SAC. If I can get that, when and if she calls again, I’ll let you talk to her. We’ll have you try to set up a meeting if you can,” she said. “But, I’m the bait. Not you.”

  “Aye, but I still need to see her, or I won’t be able to get free of Miranda.”

  “Once she’s in custody, I’ll see what I can arrange,” Constance said. “No promises. But, I’ll do what I can. Take it or leave it.”

  Felicity nodded. “Fair enough then.”

  “Okay, let me make a call and see if my SAC will even go for the idea.”

  “You’d best get yourself a wig if you plan on pretending to be me,” my wife added.

  “I’m going to be honest with you, Felicity. Even if I get this approved, I don’t think it will work. Otherwise I would have already suggested it. I really doubt she’ll even agree to a meeting, much less show up.”