TWO KISS
Transmissions from The International Council for the Exploration of the Universe
E.J. Kimelman
Copyright © 2014 Emily Kimelman Gilvey
All Rights Reserved. No portion of this ebook may be copied or distributed without the author’s permission
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Two Kiss (Transmissions from The International Council for the Exploration of the Universe., #2)
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
About the Author
A Note from Emily
Blurb:
Two Kiss is the second part in E.J Kimelman's Apocalyptic Urban Fantasy serial: Transmissions from The International Council for the Exploration of the Universe.
The council exists to consider and conduct investigations into the dimensions of the Universe; to examine how far humans are being depleted by zombies; to investigate natural methods, such as by breeding, etc., of keeping up the stock; and in cases of certain future failure of supply to suggest the necessary remedial measures. For the most part it deals with the humans common to all dimensions, but a special sub-committee considers the vampires and a second the succubus; disembodied spirits are not investigated.
Two Kiss is recommended for adults who enjoy foul language, graphic violence and sex, not to mention a wild apocalyptic adventure populated by both humans and immortal beings.
This is an 18,000 word installment of a serial and ends on a cliffhanger.
International Dimension Investigations
Please state Where and When this correspondence was found and then put it in the nearest inter-dimensional pathway. You will be informed in reply where and when it was set adrift. Our object is to find out the Direction of the Deep Currents of the Universe.
Locality where found?
Depth
Date when found?
Name of Sender
Address
This is the second time I've tried this. I hope you received my first message. Only 4% are found and responded to. Perhaps you have no idea what this is, what the Deep Currents of the Universe are.
If you can understand this then think of the Universe like your ocean. Big, impossible to fully explore, and filled with life. In my world we first started putting messages into bottles in order to track the currents of our waters. When another dimension responded it shocked us. It's possible in your world the dimensional portals are still unknown to your scientists. After decades of study they are still mostly unknown to ours, hence this message. We still use the same methods we did over a century ago. Though now it is the currents of the Universe that we throw our bites of data into.
But I have not broken all protocol, and risked my career, in order to talk about my world or the methodology of The International Council for the Exploration of the Universe. I did it to talk about Darling Price.
I have interviewed many inter-dimensional creatures but none of them like Darling. Enclosed you will find the recordings from the second day's sessions. I have not gotten further with Darling Price. She fed and I wanted to watch but couldn't. She wouldn't let us. The one she fed upon survived. I didn't know him personally, and really, I only saw him in the hall for a moment before he went in but the being was good-looking, strong, excited.
I didn't see him after. He is being interviewed. I will have access to it once completed. It will be fascinating to hear what it is like from his side. I believe that the key to saving the universe lies in how she nourishes herself.
Darling Price is evasive and insists upon telling me her story slowly, as if we have all the time in the world. But I know that we don't. The end is creeping nearer. The zombie plague is almost upon us.
I could feel the energy coming off Darling Price when I walked back into the room. The air seemed to be vibrating with it. She sat at the table, one hand resting on its surface, the other running through her hair, pushing it away from her glittering eyes. I turned away quickly, showing her my back, shielding myself from her gaze. "I'm sorry," I said, afraid I'd insulted her. Made a fool of myself.
"Sit down," she answered, her voice soft but also booming. As if it came from all around me. Not just one mouth.
I did as she asked, keeping my eyes to the ground as I slid back into my seat across from her. "Where were we?" she asked. Her voice tickled against my ear, playful and sensual in one breath.
"Megan was saving you."
"Ah, yes...
CHAPTER ONE
Megan stood over me, her bright red hair even more brilliant than before she got sick. The colors were vibrant, varied, as if every shade from burgundy to yellow was represented in her long, luscious, wavy locks. Megan's skin was white, smooth, touched with bright pink at her lips and cheeks. She looked like a doll made from the finest porcelain. Too beautiful to be real.
"Did any blood get in your mouth?" she asked.
I just stared up at her. She crouched down, her hair floating around her for a moment because she moved so fast that it took gravity time to catch up.
"Did it get in your mouth?" she asked again, her voice low and earnest. I reached a hand out to touch her face but she wrapped her own fingers around mine before I could reach her cheek. Megan's skin felt cold, deathly cold. A shiver traveled down to my wrist, along my arm, over my shoulder, and straight to my heart, which thundered in response.
Megan leaned closer to me, her eyes scanning my lips, then she smiled. "No, you bit it," she said.
"We have to go," a man said. Megan turned to him, but I just stared at her, looking at the elegant length of her neck, the veins almost violet under her pale skin.
"I know," Megan answered before returning to me. "Come on," she said. "Can you stand?"
The man came around Megan and crouched down next to me. Megan put her hand on his shoulder. "She does not like to be touched," she said.
"It won't be a problem," he assured her, reaching toward me. His eyes were the pale blue of very thick ice. High elegant cheekbones and plump red lips combined with his slender waist gave him an air of androgyny.
"She will walk," Megan insisted. He frowned but relented, standing up. He was wearing a tailored suit, charcoal gray with burgundy and black thread running through it. He straightened his tie (narrow and matte black) before crossing behind Megan over to where Basil was pinned against my apartment building wall by a zombie. Megan's companion grabbed the creature around its neck. I saw his fingers tighten, pressing through the flesh. The head popped off, flying sideways and bouncing on the ground. The rest of the body crumpled at his feet. He shook his hand and bits of flesh flew off it.
Basil straightened his jacket and nodded at Megan's companion before hurrying to Issa's side. "We can't leave them," I said, pointing at Issa's unconscious body. Megan took the keys from my hand and unlocked the front door.
"4G," she told Basil. He didn't waste time. Grabbing Issa by the arm, he slung the taller man over his shoulder, then took the offered keys and walked through the door. Megan closed it behind them and gestured toward a navy SUV idling at the curb. "We need to go."
"My violin," I said, looking over to where the case lay on the ground. It was scuffed up, smears of blood on its rough black exterior, but still intact. Megan
picked it up in a blur of movement. She took my hand and pulled me to my feet. "He was going to tell me—"
Megan cut me off. "We have to go now." Sirens were wailing in the distance. Screaming still filled the air. Megan opened the back door and helped me in. A zombie fell against the opposite window; its palms pressed against the glass, viscous drool seeped from its mouth. Megan slammed my door. The creature flew backwards, and Megan was sitting next to me with the door closed by the time it hit the building across the street.
"I need to blindfold you," she said.
"What?" I asked.
"Just trust me," she said.
"Trust you," I parroted.
"Yes," she nodded.
"Okay," I said.
She smiled, relieved. The elegant man passed her a black hood from where he sat in the driver's seat. Megan pulled it over my head, blocking all but the strongest light from passing through to my eyes.
The sirens were closer now. Loud over the sound of our engine as we started forward. The rat tat tat of gunfire in the distance. Megan wrapped her hand into mine. I couldn't believe that she was really here. And the longer we drove the less I believed it. The sirens faded, our speed increased, and soon I heard nothing except for the engine, my own breath, and the whine of our tires on blacktop.
Without the sight of her and only experiencing Megan's smooth, cold, hard fingers interlaced with mine, I began to feel as though I was holding hands with a statue rather than a person. It was impossible that Megan could be a person. Not only should her body be weak and riddled with disease but she ought to be dead. Instead, she exhibited speed and strength beyond the bounds of biology.
My world, which had always felt disjointed and confused but anchored by Megan, now seemed totally untethered. People were attacking each other. Ripping out each other's throats and then rising, their wounds fresh and lurid, to stumble through the streets looking for another victim. I remembered climbing into the kitchen cabinet of a two-room cabin my father built and was discovered by police in a completely different place. Megan was dying, Megan disappeared. Megan was here, with me.
I heard the crunch of gravel under the tires and moments later we rolled to a slow stop. I heard the front door open and close. "Darling," Megan said. Her voice saying my name sounded so right. "We are here. I will take the hood off once we get you inside."
I heard and felt my door open. The air was cooler here, fresher. Megan's voice in front of me now, "Come on," she said, taking my elbow. A gentle touch held the back of my head down as I climbed out.
"I'll carry her, it's better," I heard the man say. His voice was smooth, the hint of a United Kingdom’s accent. "I promise you she will not mind," he assured Megan and I believed him.
"No," Megan said, her voice low and stern. She led me, holding my elbow, over gravel, then grass. I could hear a gentle breeze rustling leaves. The tinkling sound of a stream mixed with the vibration of crickets. "There are stairs coming up," Megan said. "Here they are, raise your foot." I did as I was told and we traveled up four steps. They did not creak or wheeze like wood. The smoothness of them made me think I was walking on stone. This sensation continued as we moved indoors.
The air warmed and I could smell the lingering scent of smoke from a wood fire. Our footsteps echoed so that I felt the room was large. "I'm taking off the hood now," Megan said quietly, her breath moving against the fabric. She lifted it over my head and I blinked for a moment while my eyes focused. That's when I realized hers had changed. While one eye was still the emerald green I remembered, the other was frosty blue just like the man she was traveling with. "You're okay, Darling," she said. "Everything is okay."
I felt my lips moving with hers, and my mind agreeing. She smiled and then stepped to my side, her arm sliding through mine. It was an achingly familiar gesture. The sweet intimacy of our sides touching was something I'd relished. But Megan's body felt harder now, not the soft flesh I'd once known.
<<<<>>>>
"So, you recognized she wasn't human."
Darling shrugged. "I recognized she'd changed."
"What did you believe had happened to your friend?"
Darling reached for the cigarette she'd left smoldering in the ashtray. She knocked off the long ash and then took a drag. The filter against her lips was erotic. The way she softly cupped it. I had to drag my eyes off of the connection. "I was under their influence," Darling said, holding the smoke in her lungs, her voice tight with the inhalation. She released the smoke, popping out little rings that floated toward me, growing larger and ungainly before dissipating into the air. "I didn't think much."
<<<<>>>>
CHAPTER TWO
I'd been right that the room was large. A former bank was my first thought. High, arched- ceiling and a prodigious use of stone and marble. There was a mezzanine, its bannister carved white marble. Several large Oriental carpets covered the center of the floor, worn leather couches and chairs faced each other. In the wall to my left was a large and grand fireplace, its white surface stained black. A crystal chandelier hung from the center of the domed ceiling, several of its bulbs burnt out and a thick layer of dust dulling its sparkle.
"You’re back Megan," a woman said as she entered the room through a door to the left of the fireplace. "And you've brought your friend." She clapped her hands together. "Wonderful."
The woman's blonde hair, parted in the center, fell straight to her waist. She wore black pants that clung to her thin hips and long legs. A loose red blouse made of satin seemed to flow around her almost like liquid as she crossed the room toward us. Her skin was the same as Megan’s; smooth, flawless white with dashes of pink on the lips and cheekbones. But even more surprising was her eyes. They were that same strange blue.
"Darling," Megan said. "I want you to meet my mother."
The blonde woman reached her hand out to me, the fingers long like Megan's. Her nails were the same pink as their lips. "I've wanted to meet you for so long," she said and then smiled at me, her teeth straight and white. "Call me Pearl."
I held my hand out and she clasped it in both of hers. The coldness of her skin broke goose bumps across my forearms. She looked young, not much older than Megan, if not the same age.
"Please, let's sit down." Pearl waved one of her arms toward the couch. Something about the gesture was so elegant that I caught my breath and I didn't think there was anyone on the planet who could have refused the invitation. Pearl continued to hold my hand with one of hers, tugging it slightly to move me toward the couch. Megan unlaced her arm from mine and I stepped forward, following her mother. Pearl turned to the man who, along with Megan, had escorted me to this place.
"Dimitri, grab us some drinks, would you please?" she asked him, then looked over at Megan. "You must be thirsty dear."
"No," Megan said, following us over to the couches.
"Dimitri, bring Darling some water and," she narrowed her eyes searching my face, "some brandy. I know you had quite a shock." She smiled at me. "And bring something for Megan and I, we must keep our strength up during these difficult times."
"No," Megan said again. Her mother's face darkened as she turned to look at her. Megan seemed to shy away from the other women's stare. "Sorry," Megan said.
Dimitri left the room, his hard-soled shoes loud in the tall space.
Pearl sat on one of the couches and pulled me down next to her. Megan took a seat in one of the high-backed leather chairs that faced us. Pearl opened a small lacquered box on the coffee table and took out a filter-less cigarette.
Placing it between her lips she picked up a large, crystal lighter carved to look like a lion's head. She puffed for a moment, getting the ember going. Then she returned the lighter to the table before settling herself against the cushions. She blew the smoke out toward the ceiling, tilting her chin up and lengthening her long neck. Sticking out her tongue, Pearl plucked a piece of tobacco off it.
She smiled, gesturing with the cigarette. "A habit left over from my human days."
"Human days?" I said. I felt my brain trying to understand what was happening but it just kept clicking over, nothing becoming clearer.
"Yes, Darling. We are not human. And neither are those things that attacked you."
I looked over at Megan. She was sitting forward on the edge of her chair, elbows on her knees, hands clasped in front of her. She nodded.
"You're not alive, are you?" I asked.
Megan frowned. "Not in the way that you are."
"But she is not entirely like me either," Pearl said.
The door opened and Dimitri returned with a tray. It was silver. Four crystal glasses sat on it. He lowered it in front of Pearl who took two of them and handed them to me. One was filled with water, the other brandy. I took them from her and stared down into the liquid. "Drink," she said. "The water first, like it's medicine, and then you can sip the brandy."
I did as she directed, gulping down the water. I felt it traveling along my throat, spreading out toward my limbs. I didn't realize how thirsty I was. A little dribbled down my chin as I finished off the glass. Pearl took it back and placed it on the tray.
Megan and Pearl's glasses were filled with red, thick liquid. "It's blood," Pearl answered my unasked question. She took a sip and when she lowered the glass, her top lip was stained. The tip of her tongue came out and licked it clean. "We live off blood."
"You're vampires?" I asked.
She frowned but nodded. "We are the basis of that myth."
"And those things?" I asked.
"Zombies," Megan answered.
"Have some brandy," Pearl said, and I took a small sip. "Megan, drink."
I looked over at Megan, dark circles had appeared under her eyes. She stared at the cut crystal glass in her hand. Megan shook her head, her lips tightening. Pearl frowned. "Drink," she commanded, her voice hard. I couldn't imagine how Megan could resist that tone.
Megan's hand shook as it approached her lips. "Now," Pearl whispered, her voice low and insistent. It remind me of the hiss of a snake. As the glass came closer to Megan's face her lips rose off her teeth and I saw her incisors grow, reaching toward the blood that approached. "She is still new," Pearl said in way of explanation. "She cannot control her fangs."
Two Kiss: An Apocalyptic Urban Fantasy (Transmissions from the International Council for the Exploration of the Universe Book 2) Page 1
