Clive raised his eyebrows, as if in surprise at her outburst. “Good to know you won’t be telling any other souls.”
“Well, at least I can’t count you. How can someone as evil as you have a soul?” She spat the words at him. “Get away from me.” She jabbed at him. “Leave me alone. I never want to see you and your other face ever again. I’m going to ignore the blue smoke stuff and just get on with my life best I can.”
“The Podis will kill you,” Clive said after an extended pause.
“You know what? Good. I hope they do.” She paced back and forth. “I deserve to die. I should overdose on my mother’s sleeping pills, save the world from more murders.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Why? Why do you care so much?” Her breath hitched as she tried to rein in her emotions. “Get someone else. Someone who enjoys killing. Why me? What did I do to deserve this?”
“Because of your importance in events beyond all our control.”
“Like I give a shit. Look, just fuck… off… go… away…,” she said each word slowly, jabbing her finger at his chest.
He took a step back, perhaps surprised at her strength of conviction, against him and her actions. She hoped he might go off in a puff of smoke, walk through a wall, whatever, she didn’t care so long as he disappeared. The demon flashed the ghost of a smile, and took two quick steps forwards so that he almost touched her, then without warning, shoved Alex up to a garden wall. She hit the bricks hard, her back screamed in pain, but before she could say a thing, he pressed up against her and started trying to kiss her.
“Oi!” she said, her voice muffled by him.
If anything, he kissed her more vigorously, rubbing his body up and down hers.
“Get off me!” Her arms flailing, she hit and kicked him, but Clive was far stronger than her, also willful and eager. His kisses worked their way down her neck, and to her disgust, Alex let out a small gasp of pleasure. Encouraged, Clive clamped his mouth back down on hers. His dick had gone hard, and unable to stop herself, Alex squeezed a hand between their bodies and ran her fingers over the red cat suit, feeling the erection grow and pulse.
“I don’t want to,” she gasped as he moved his kisses down to her cleavage. But her body disagreed, arching towards Clive as one of his hands burrowed under her shirt. He pulled at her bra and forced one of her breasts out then tweaked the nipple until shudders ran through her body and her breath shorted to excited pants.
Unable to resist, Alex grabbed him, rubbing hard against the cat suit, suddenly acutely aware of how much she wanted him inside her. Clive stuck his other hand down her trousers, past her underwear and straight to the small bush of hair. Alex knew she was moist and ready, and Clive moved two fingers between her lips, her hips pulsing rhythmically towards him.
Somehow, she managed to say, “Home, not until we’re home.”
Clive nodded and put his arm around her waist, part carrying, part dragging her through the empty streets. She opened the front door to find the rooms quiet and dark. Not bothering about the creaky stairs, Alex hurried straight to bed. Clive closed the door behind him and pushed home the little bolt.
Alex was already stripping her clothes off. Moments later, she stood there, naked.
Clive’s cat suit shimmered before disappearing, leaving a hard muscle-bound body. He took three steps across the room, lifted Alex off her feet and tossed her on the bed. He climbed on top and pressed down hard on her and into her. All thoughts of murders and crunching tires evaporated. She clutched at his back, the extra heat making her senses overload. Too quickly she climaxed, and happy to help Clive finish, she worked her hips to maximize his orgasm. Panting from exertion, he collapsed on top of her before rolling off to the side with a deep sigh. Clive snuggled up against her and began tracing a finger around her nipples, making the sign for infinity on her skin.
“Do you live forever?” she asked, now sleepy. Her eyelids refused to stay open. She allowed them to shut and snuggled closer to the demon and the oblivion he now afforded her.
“Forever and ever,” he whispered as she took the first deep breaths of sleep.
The last thing she felt before sleep took her was the demon taking hold of her hands and flooding her with his healing powers.
Alex slept fitfully, with uncomfortable dreams of fast cars and death, lakes of blood, and everywhere she looked—Jeremy’s green eyes searching for her. When the digital numbers of her alarm clock ticked over to seven o’clock she gave up on sleep. Clive had apparently puffed out during the night, and guilty thoughts nagged at her. In the hours following her boyfriend’s death, she’d slept with Clive. What possessed her to do such a disrespectful thing? She wondered if Clive had forced her, what did he call it—persuasion? She stifled a sob with the back of her hand. Jeremy was dead.
Murdered, she reminded herself, he was murdered. She couldn’t bring herself to admit further. Maybe after more time had passed.
Tired and emotionally bereft, Alex stumbled downstairs, wondering if Lily would be up and about yet. The morning was still young, even for her newly sober mother. Alex’s stomach rumbled, and thinking of food, she entered the living room. Nothing could prepare her for the mayhem she found there.
Lily had fallen impressively off the wagon during the night, maybe the news of Jeremy pushed her over the edge. Alex surveyed the destruction. She counted three empty bottles of wine and a fourth on the floor. Her mother must have knocked it over as the bottle lay on its side on the carpet surrounded by a large crimson stain.
Alex sniffed the air, it was sickly sweet and alcoholic, and she prayed the stink was only the spilled wine. Taking a few more steps into the room, Alex picked up one of the empties. Small drops of something wet covered the bottle. Stretching to peer around the sofa, Alex saw what she’d dreaded—crimson vomit spattered on the side of the sofa and all over the carpet. The stench hit her, and all thoughts of food fled as she circumvented the splash zone and walked gloomily towards the kitchen in search of cleaner.
Alex scrubbed for almost an hour. Lily had used the sink as well, which she’d then tried to wash down the plug hole. Considering how inebriated she must have been, that was at least something, but meant Alex had to unclog the drain before any cleaning started. As the clock’s hands nudged past eight o’clock, she opened the downstairs windows, braving the chill autumnal air in an attempt to clear the remaining underlying stench of vomit. Lemon scented bleach and carpet cleaner blanketed the odor, but the odd waft kept hitting her nose, and after searching the living room and kitchen for sick she’d missed, Alex decided there was little more she could do, and sat at the table, hands wrapped around a hot mug of tea, shivering in the breeze.
Her mind drifting, she returned to the night before, tears welled in her eyes. After taking a couple of deep breaths, Alex chastised herself. She was tired of crying, tired of feeling so worn down and out of control. Clive had walked into her life such a short time ago. He’d thrown her on a roller coaster of death and destruction. A noise from above drew Alex from morbid thoughts, and she listened to her mother trip and fall then slam the bathroom door closed. Even one floor below, there was no mistaking the sound of her retching into the toilet. More bloody cleaning, Alex thought, drinking her tea before it cooled too much, already mentally preparing for mopping upstairs.
The toilet flushed, and Alex guessed her mother was brushing her teeth. Alex heard Lily clearing her throat after each swill, no doubt trying to rid her mouth of lingering lumps of half-digested food. The door was swung open with too much force, and bounced off the radiator in the bathroom. One day, her mother would break the door, she thought. Alex waited for Lily’s bedroom door to slam, fully expecting her to sleep off her hangover. Instead, Alex’s ears pricked up as clumsy feet began tackling the stairs.
Moments later, Lily stumbled into the living room chattering nonsensically to herself, “Stupid woman, can’t even stay sober for a few days. No wonder your own bloody daughter hates you so
much…” Lily paused. “Bloody hell she’s already been up. Fuck,” Lily swore.
Alex heard the windows close with a soft clunk, and then what she thought might be her mother flopping down on the sofa.
Frozen in place with her hands wrapped around her mug, Alex stared at the kitchen door hoping her mother would go back to bed now she realized everything was already lemony fresh. She couldn’t face more sympathy and questions concerning Jeremy’s death, and glaring at the door, she willed her mother upstairs. The sofa springs creaked as Lily got up, and Alex stretched forwards and listened for the sound of heavy feet on the stairs.
Steps approached the kitchen door, and for a second Alex contemplated rushing out the back and hiding in the shed. Lack of outdoor clothing and time to find the key fixed her to the seat as the doorknob turned and Lily peeked inside.
Alex’s expression fell as her mother’s face came into view. The surreal feeling that had been following her around came back. “No, it can’t be,” Alex whispered as her mother spied her daughter, and entered with an apologetic smile.
“I’m so sorry. I know I drank last night, and I’m so sorry about the mess. I thought I’d be up before you, and clean the wine and everything up…” Lily stopped, noticing the look of horror on Alex’s face. “Oh, how tactless of me, how could I forget about Jeremy,” she said. She welled up and a couple of tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
Alex stared as her mother came closer and in an awkward moment, attempted to hug Alex. When she received no reaction from Alex, Lily released her and crossed the kitchen to the kettle and set it boiling.
“I’m so sorry Alex. The police came and told me they dropped you off at the park, told me what had happened. I don’t know how you haven’t collapsed in a heap, how dreadful,” she rambled on. “I don’t suppose you’d recognize the lad who did this? The police said they had no leads at present, said they’re taking Jeremy’s minibus in for processing, whatever that is. I guess they’ll take fingerprints or something.” The kettle turned off with a snap, and Lily got a mug and popped a teabag inside. “You want another?” she asked. Alex stared at Lily, offering no indication one way or the other. “I’ll brew you one then,” she continued, and took the empty mug from between Alex’s hands and rinsed it in the sink. “A good cup of tea’ll make you a bit better.” She poured the hot water, and the teabags made a satisfying fush sound as they swelled in the mug. “I waited for you… for a while,” she went on with her aimless chatter. “But you were gone so long, I couldn’t resist. My will power … slipped. So much has happened. First Mr. Duggan. Then his cat—did I tell you I found her dead behind the sofa? Poor mite must have inhaled too much smoke. Should have taken her to the vet. And then Jeremy… It was all too much. Especially when you didn’t come home.” She stirred the teas. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make such a mess of the living room,” she said, her head tipped as an indication of shame.
Alex guessed her mother had guzzled the first three bottles down, and attempted the fourth when she went over the limit. She hadn’t even used a glass. She’d simply swigged from the bottle. A fresh pang of guilt hit Alex, as she realized if she’d just come straight home as the police had suggested, her mother wouldn’t have had a chance to go out and get the booze. She’d have stayed dry.
Lily bought over the mugs, clunking them down and splashing the table. “Shit, sorry,” she apologized.
The woman didn’t seem to be able to stop this morning. Alex examined her mother as she ripped off a couple of sheets of paper towel and began mopping the spill. With her hair curled wildly into a blonde frizz and makeup from the previous day smeared around her eyes, she looked awful. Lily reached for her box of cigarettes next, tapping the bottom until one shot out the hole at the top.
“What are you going to do now, Alex? Are you going to visit the doctor?” Lily spoke in the jilted manner of someone broaching an uncomfortable subject. “I wrote notes, even sent Jeremy to take you to the surgery… oh my God!” She put a hand to her mouth, “His death is my fault, if I hadn’t got him in on this… he’d still be alive, I’m so sorry,” she said, now actively crying. She tried to settle her nerves with drags from the fag and slurps of hot tea. Her fingers trembled, and her tea spilled again. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated and got up for more paper towel, dropping ash on the freshly cleaned floor as she went.
As her mother prattled on, her words flowed over Alex’s head, like clouds, floating formless and silent, only the movement of Lily’s lips proving that conversation was still taking place. Alex stared unblinking, unbelieving as Lily sat back down. Cigarette smoke from her mother’s mouth drifted into the steam from the tea and rose as one past Lily’s animated face. Then becoming tinted and obscuring her eyes with the palest powder blue mist.
Alex gazed hypnotized as Lily waffled, her drivel punctuated by frequent apologies. The tea in Alex’s mug went cold, and while Lily was in mid-sentence, Alex pushed back from the table, the chair shuddering across the lino.
“Mum, I can’t deal with this.” Alex walked past the blue tinted mist that now surrounded her mother and went upstairs.
Alex’s bedroom was cold and unwelcoming. She sat at the end of her bed, still in shock. Flashes of the night before crammed into her head, except now her mother replaced the dying image of Jeremy. A bolt of pain caught her by surprise. She pressed her hands to her temples and pushed back as the migraine tried to get started.
“No, I can’t do that again,” she moaned.
The clear ring of a telephone sounded in her bedroom, not originating from the modern cordless downstairs, but an older phone, from her childhood. The sound reminded her of something, and a feeling of loneliness and nostalgia filled her. It annoyed her that she couldn’t put her finger on the source.
Alex lifted her head. “Hello Clive.”
“Hi, how’re you doing, babydoll?”
“Not so good.” There was no need for lies with the demon.
“You’ve seen your mother.”
Alex nodded and stared back down at the floor.
“Then you know what to do.” He sat down next to her and placed an arm around her shoulders.
“No.” Alex jumped off the bed and away from the demon. “How can you tell me to murder my mother?” Pain crushed her head. The migraine filled her brain and pushed at her eyes, exploding in bursts against her skull. Her stomach rolled.
Clive shrugged.
“I … you can’t expect me to … I’m not going to … no!” she blurted out. Her words wouldn’t form. The pain superseded everything, confused her thoughts. Lights like shooting stars bounced around the room.
Clive watched her stagger then catch herself with the wardrobe. Alex leaned against the wood until her legs steadied.
“I’m really sorry…”
“So everyone keeps saying!”
“…but it needs to be done,” Clive continued. “You know that. You’re a smart girl.”
“No. No, I’m not. I’m stupid, and I don’t care what your Podis creatures do to me. I don’t care if you pull that mask off and scare the living daylights out of me again. I will not do what you want!” Alex paced the room holding her head between her hands. “For God’s sake, I murdered Jeremy to keep my mum safe. And Mr. Duggan! And now you’re asking me to kill her? No. I won’t do it.”
“Look, I’m not going to bully you into doing the drunk now. You were remarkable last night, and I’m willing to let you rest for a bit before we start again.”
“Start again? You’ve got to be kidding. I’m done! Mr. Duggan was horrible, and the poor cat shouldn’t have died either. But Jeremy, my poor sweet Jeremy…” Her eyes watered and the world blurred for a moment until anger took over. “He didn’t deserve to die. He was trying to help me. And now he’s dead, Mum’s back on the booze because of it, and you want me to kill her?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “No fucking way.”
Clive lay down on her bed, tracing his eyes around the swirling patterns of
plaster on the ceiling. “Whatever, babydoll.”
“Yeah, you said it. Whatever,” she spat. Grabbing some clothes and her towel, she headed for the bathroom. “And you stay here!” she shouted as she slammed her bedroom door.
“Who’re you talking to Alexandra?”
“Bloody hell!” Alex shrieked. She dropped all she’d been holding and clasped her hands to her chest. Her heart drummed wildly under her ribs. Alex stared at the cold blue smoke working its way through the air towards her. “Why are you sneaking up on me?”
“I wasn’t,” Lily replied, sounding hurt. “I was going back to bed, seemed silly to be awake with a headache when I had some time to sleep it off…” she petered off, frowning at her daughter. “So who were you talking to? Was it him?” she whispered the last word as if he might hear and jabbed a thumb in the direction of Alex’s bedroom.
Alex gazed heavenwards; she could think of only one way to shut her up right now. “Yes.” Then, without waiting for more questions, she picked up her clothes and towel and pushed past her mother. Moments later, she locked the door and breathed a sigh of relief. She rested her head against the wood. What was she going to do?
The shower scalded her until the water went cool, and Alex finally switched off the taps. The mirror was fogged, and she drew her hand across the glass, creating a portal to her reflection. In the water-streaked space in the middle of the misted mirror, her face stared out, old and sad. Would she look like this in forty years? Twenty? Life must have been hard for her. All that weight piling on her shoulders now was going to bow her back in the years to come. Her hair gristled in the same way her mother’s after a bad night, grey bags sagged under her eyes and she noticed a hollow look in her eyes that disturbed her.
Alex reached out and wiped again. She forced herself to gaze back into the mirror, this time seeing herself properly—nineteen, with her wet hair plastered to her head and no sign of that haunted stare in the backs of her eyes.
She went about her business, brushing, creaming, scrubbing, delaying. Not wanting to run into Lily again. She took a long time, and unable to procrastinate further, she turned the lock as quietly as possible and cracked the door open. A plume of steam belched out onto the landing. Alex pressed up against the crack. Her mother was gone, no doubt snoring off her hangover.
My Demon Page 16
