“Since I haven’t heard from you, I want to let you know I’ve finished cataloging all of Father Willem’s prayer books. There’re markings under what I assume are his favorite passages. It’s curious, to say the least.”
“How so?”
“The most prevalent passage is Genesis 1:26. ‘Let us make man in our image.’ He underlined ‘us’ and ‘our’ several times.”
“You think this is significant, how?”
“It’s interesting… and odd, don’t you think?”
“The Bible is merely a compilation of books written by different men to explain the divine and humans’ relationships with It.”
“I thought it might mean something to you.”
“’I’m afraid it doesn’t. Anything else?”
She was confused by his tone. He was uncharacteristically distant. “Are you all right, Ben?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Is there anything else?”
“I’m sorry to waste your time. Clearly, I have no idea what’s important to you.”
Her double meaning wasn’t lost on him. More important, he couldn’t do this to her no matter what his logic was telling him.
“Deborah…”
“Goodbye, Mr. Stewart.”
CHAPTER 12
In the week since she’d spoken to Ben, Deborah worked feverishly on the Dubois Papers. The sooner she finished the work, the better. Having completed all the prayer books, she was back to the diaries. She’d read through the first, a small book barely as large as a man’s hand. It was written when Father Willem was at the seminary. From these earlier writings, it was clear he was bright, devoted, and eager to serve God as a Jesuit priest. His desire to take a vow of chastity, live a life of poverty, and devote himself to missionary work seemed a rejection of a very privileged upbringing, but Deborah didn’t get that impression. Instead, he saw his family’s wealth as a vehicle to pursue his calling.
Reading Willem’s reflections on his experiences, it was as if she somehow knew him. Deborah occasionally looked at the few faded pictures of him within the Collection. Father Willem had a kind face and eyes reflecting wisdom far beyond his years.
“How’s it going,” Megan asked coming into the secured storage area.
“Good. I’m making great progress. The passages in the earlier diaries are short and much easier to translate. Pretty straight-forward.”
“That’s great.” Megan sat down next to her at the table. “Listen, I was wondering if we could have lunch or go out for drinks after work. It’s been a while.”
“I brought my lunch today.”
“Drinks, then?”
Deborah set the diary down and looked at her for a moment. “What’s this about?”
“We need to talk through this… strain.”
“There’s no strain… at least not for me.”
“Well, there is for me. I don’t like the chilly interactions we’ve been having. We’ve worked together a while, and I honestly consider you a friend.”
“We’re friendly. There’s a difference.”
“I didn’t handle things as well as I should have. Okay? Of all the staff, you weren’t the one I’d ever expect to hear something like that about. I’m really sorry. Maybe if you’d told me what was happening, I could have run interference… or something.”
“That’s interesting. You could’ve offered your support when you heard about it, too. Instead, you insinuated I was a whore for sleeping with him.”
“I never said that!”
“That’s what it felt like, Megan. I was a whore and an idiot.”
“Deborah, that wasn’t my intent, but I hope you can appreciate the position you put me in.”
Hating to admit it, she knew Megan was doing her job as head of the division. If the tables were turned, Deborah wasn’t sure she’d have responded much differently. It all came back to the old saying, ‘don’t dip your pen in the company ink.’
“Maybe I should’ve told you. The truth is, it just happened. I got swept up with this amazing man. I can’t explain it… even to myself. All I know is he drew me in, and it felt… right and real.”
“Have you stayed in touch with him since he went back to London?”
“I briefly spoke to him, but I’m pretty sure whatever it was, is over. Maybe you were right.”
“Oh, Deborah!”
“It is what it is. The sooner I finish this assignment, the better, and then this whole thing will be over.”
People milled in the main hall following the impressive guest speaker at the Reform Club. Rather than going back to his empty flat, he needed this diversion. Retreating to the library, Ben found a quiet spot to enjoy some brandy and a cigar. It was a far more comfortable environment than venturing out to one of London’s many pubs. From the overlook, he’d amuse himself by people watching before calling it a night. She would’ve enjoyed tonight, he thought then immediately felt like a cad.
Deborah deserved better from him. This woman he’d only met a few weeks prior, made him laugh boisterously and think deeply. This woman whose physical beauty enticed him, aroused him more with her brilliance. Arguably, Deborah Brooks was among one of the most remarkable people he’d ever met. But it was her spirit that intrigued him most. If he’d only met her sooner, he could’ve enjoyed her company without all the concerns now weighing on him—if he’d met her before he’d come so close to finding his prize. On the one hand, it was cruel fate, on the other, divine intervention… or so it seemed. The coward in him wished he’d never met her.
Taking another sip of brandy, he stood searching the massive bookshelves for a hidden treasure to quell his thoughts of her. Among the leather-bound volumes, he saw Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. When he first read it, the parallels drawn suggesting darkness and savagery were equally found in London as well as in the heart of the Congo were almost laughable. The savagery unleashed onto the Bantu people was done purely in the name of greed. Setting the book back on the shelf, he noticed Victoria Markham chatting with Sebastian Binns and his wife, Elizabeth. Seeing Ben, she excused herself from them making her way toward him.
“Hello, Ben.”
“Hello, Victoria. How are you?”
“I’m well. It’s been some time.”
“It has. We’re both very busy people.”
Ben and Victoria spent time socially in the past. They occasionally attended charity events together and when the mood struck, enjoyed evenings of non-complicated sex.
“You’re the one who can’t seem to be pinned down,” she said lightly stroking his arm.
Choosing to ignore her innuendo, “I assume you came out tonight for the speaker.”
“I did. And you?”
“Of course. He’s bloody brilliant.”
“We attended university together,” she added.
“Really?”
“Um hmmm. Between you and me, he was a royal arse then. It’s nice to see he’s evolved.”
Ben laughed. “We all have to evolve at some point.”
“So what have you been keeping yourself busy with lately?” Victoria asked.
“The usual, I suppose.”
“I’ve been working hard, too, but not playing nearly hard enough,” she said seductively.
Always refined, Victoria’s antics were still unmistakable. In her own way, she was flirting. He knew it from the moment she walked over to him.
“I find that hard to believe,” he said smiling.
“Keep smiling like that, Ben Stewart, and we may need to find a new game to play.”
Seeking out her eyes, he saw nothing that intrigued or enticed him at all. “As much as I appreciate the invitation, I must decline.”
“Really? Anyone I know?”
He smiled and simply said, “That’s presumptuous.”
Straightening her back, she smiled saying, “I’ll look forward to meeting her.” Then walked away.
Putting out his cigar, he downed the last of his brandy. Walking out of the library
into the open passage overlooking the Main Hall, he watched people below before deciding to ring Arthur to take him back to the flat.
Once home, he lay in bed trying once again to make sense of the urges consuming him. He wanted to see her, and for the first time considered the unthinkable. Ignoring it, he fell asleep. When he woke with the alarm blaring the next morning, she was still on his heart. Glancing at the clock, he knew she’d be sleeping. Stretching out, he lay very still and took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. Within moments, Bensaí emerged and transported to her apartment in Detroit.
Deborah’s slumber seemed as peaceful as he recalled. Hovering over her, he came closer watching every subtle breath. She was wrapped in the sofa blanket. A slight smile crept onto her face as whatever dream she was having delighted rather than terrified her. The warmth emanating from her body seemed to fuse with his energy. He could feel her moving through him. Then the unexpected happened. She abruptly shifted onto her back and exhaled deeply.
Without opening her eyes, she whispered. “Ben?”
What the hell? What’s happening? He immediately fled from her returning to his lifeless body. It had only been a minute or two, but he coughed uncontrollably trying to catch his breath. Once steadied, he thought, She couldn’t possibly have sensed me! Or could she? There were distinct circumstances when humans or any other mortal being could detect their kind, but it often involved prayerful requests from the faithful. Could it simply be Deborah’s desire for his human form had somehow enabled her to feel his true self? He wasn’t sure. It defied logic and precedent, but he’d have to figure it out later. Other duties required his attention.
As the day progressed, he completed tasks and met associates, but he still couldn’t shake what happened during his visitation. He needed to know what really happened. He needed to talk to her. Hoping to reach her before she left for work, he called.
She stared at the phone as it vibrated on her nightstand. The Private Caller flashing on her screen could only be one person. With considerable hesitation, she finally answered.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Deborah.”
“Mr. Stewart.”
“I deserve that after our last conversation. I behaved badly, and I’m sorry.”
“Where are you?” she asked almost demanding.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I said where are you?”
“I’m in London. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
“You say very little for which there’s no reason. Tell me.”
“I know this sounds strange but… I could’ve sworn you were in my apartment last night.”
He was stunned. How is this possible? “I’m in London.”
“It must’ve been a dream.”
“You dream of me?” he asked trying to recover.
She refused to answer. “Why are you calling?”
Knowing she felt his presence was a disturbing revelation. He needed to understand why. However, he was enraptured knowing she was dreaming of him as intensely as he was of her. Could the answer be as simple as that? If earnest prayers of the faithful could summon him, then why not passionate dreams of a lover?
“I’ve missed you, my sweet.”
“Then why haven’t you called? Why did you treat me like that?”
“There is no excuse.”
“But there’s a reason.”
He sighed heavily before admitting, “I am a man of discipline and reason. And yet, I can’t free you from my thoughts. You have invaded my dreams and virtually every waking moment. Everything transpiring between us defies logic, and yet I want every part of you.”
She was overwhelmed by his candid confession. It warmed her heart knowing he was as confused by all this as she was, but she had to make her feelings known.
“You hurt me… on purpose. Don’t ever do it again.”
“I’ll do my best. I promise.” He meant every word.
“I need to believe you, Ben.” There was pleading in her voice. He couldn’t bear knowing he’d done that to her.
“Believe your heart,” he said softly.
“I want to.”
“You can… no matter what happens.”
“When are you coming back?”
“I need a few more days here. Then it’ll be easier to spend time there… with you. Assuming, of course, you want to see me.”
“Of course I do. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been so pissed… and hurt.”
“Does your offer still stand?”
“What offer?”
“Staying with you.”
“I thought you needed the conveniences of the DAC?”
“I need you more.”
“I need you more” kept replaying in her mind. She beamed on her way to work. Wanting to make her place as comfortable and inviting for him as possible, she thought of all the things she needed to do to prepare. Picking up snacks on the way home, she chuckled realizing she didn’t really know what he enjoyed. Except for pizza, they dined out each night… if they ate at all.
“Good morning, Miss Deborah! You’re looking lovely today,” Mr. Mugabe said.
“Hello! And thank you!”
“There’s that smile! I’ve missed seeing it!”
“That’s sweet. Have a good day, okay?”
“Same to you!”
She was quickly inside the building and into the archives. Pulling out Willem’s diary containing the passages about Stanley and the horrific events committed by the Force Publique, she got to work with increased purpose. She didn’t worry that the contents would unsettle her considering her good mood. She simply picked up where she left off.
May 20, 1895
I joined Sese at his home, a well-made dwelling made of mud, brick, and straw. Not only did it suffice to protect against the elements, but it was home to three generations of his family. The entire village has hundreds of these huts organized as orderly as any street in Brussels.
Upon arrival, I was surrounded by many people who swept fragrant twigs about me, just as we do during Mass.
In the center of the village is an altar of sorts. It is laden with flora of varying types and the carcasses of dead animals. According to Sese, it is used to call forth their gods to whom they have great devotion. I dared not tell him yet his gods are false, and there is only one true God.
The more she read, it seemed Father Willem’s trips into the villages were changing him. It was apparent in each subsequent passage. He was deeply touched by the villagers’ untiring devotion to their gods. Many times Willem commented about how their faith caused him to examine his own. In several passages, he commented about the unwavering spirit of a people brutalized and ravaged by disease. Rather than feeling powerless in the face of their travails, they prayed unceasingly. Having lost many of their most valiant warriors during the invasion of Leopold’s Force Publique, all they had left was their gods for protection. Faithful devotion was the only recourse to free them from the horrors faced daily.
CHAPTER 13
The car service drove Ben from the chartered private jet at Detroit City Airport to the Oak Park suburb northwest of the city. He couldn’t wait to see Deborah. After asking the driver to make a brief stop, he arrived at her modest apartment complex. The driver pulled to the curb adjacent to her building and let Ben out. Tapping lightly on her door, she answered with a broad smile. Containing their mutual excitement was fruitless. Ben’s eyes locked on hers, telling her everything he wanted to share with her in one glance.
Coming into the apartment, he offered a large bouquet of red roses before kissing her softly on the cheek. Cupping the side of his face, she kissed him far deeper than he expected.
“Hi.”
“Hello, my sweet,” he whispered. His eyes seemed to sparkle.
“The roses are beautiful. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like them.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Setting the flowers on the side tabl
e, she gently took his hand leading him toward the sofa. Walking closely behind her, he couldn’t take another step without wrapping his arms around her. Pulling her close, he embraced her tightly while planting another kiss on her soft lips. His hands moved slowly from her waist to her hips and around to her behind. Pressing himself against her, he wanted her to feel how much he wanted her. She sighed deeply as his slow kisses moved from her lips to her neck and back again. His warm breath against her skin caused divine tingling sensations throughout her body. Ending the kiss, they smiled impishly at one another.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I made lunch.”
“Ravenous.”
There was no mistaking what he meant. Fortunately, they had the whole weekend to enjoy each other before facing the world again Monday morning. Taking his hand again, she led him to the bedroom. Once there, they swiftly shed their clothes and soon entangled in each other’s arms. The chaotic bliss of their longing was accentuated by feverish kisses all over each other’s bodies. When they finally joined, a sweet calm engulfed them, slowing their pace considerably.
His measured strokes in and out of her were met with sensuous grinds as she wrapped her legs around his hips. Easing out of her, he rolled onto his back positioning her on top of him. Gingerly rotating her hips against him, he came up to taste her lips again. Moving her ever so slightly, she eventually eased him inside as he buried his face against her breasts. Holding her close, his hands glided up and down her back each time she lifted and lowered. He wasn’t prepared when her pace quickened. There was little he could do but enjoy the rapturous ride.
Her inner warmth and the pleasured look on her face pushed him near the precipice of his desires. He reached under her arms holding her shoulders, going deeper. Her moans grew louder, and her entire body warmed before shuddering as she cried out. Continuing to move in and out of her, he maintained the pace she began. Her body went limp with those stunning amber eyes reflecting all the ecstasy she was experiencing. When he finally released, he fell backward, bringing her with him.
Nestling onto his chest, she twirled soft wisps of his chest hair between her fingers as they lay quietly. He smoothed her wildly mussed hair as he kissed her forehead. Ben thought it was a curious feeling when she began lightly tugging on his ear. Looking at her, she certainly seemed amused by what, he wasn’t certain.
Asira Awakens Page 9
