by P. Mattern
He thought he might want to take them up on the magazine. He only hesitated because he knew they wanted a sample of his sperm, which having grown up as a human in a different country and in a more genteel era, thoroughly disgusted him.
Sitting on a cot and closing his eyes - the only way he had to keep out the overstimulating hubbub surrounding his glassed in electrified cage, he thought of Mitzi: her lovely face, her lips upon his, her secret places open and wet and willing to receive his manhood. That she had allowed him to become her lover was nothing short of a miracle; and even though she’d allowed her husband back into her bed, he still ached for her. She was not the most beautiful creature he’d been with, though she was undeniably beautiful -but she had an energy and a spirit that had excited and attracted him more than any other lover… and he had had quite a few, by any measure.
Lately he had had increasingly impure thoughts of Ruthie Lily, who came by with an entourage of guards everyday like clockwork to ask him questions and collect various specimens. She had spoken to him each time using her gift for silent communication. She had waited patiently for urine samples, and just once, when her eyes had rested for an extra nanosecond on his member, he thought he’s picked up something appreciative in her thoughts concerning his size. Yesterday she’d seemed particularly tense, telling him she had had to move up the date of his escape.
“Glad to hear.” He had countered silently, “Any particular reason?”
Allowing no expression to cross her face as she drew his blood again, she’d answered.
“The other prisoner-he died. They basically tortured him to death during an experiment using enhanced ultraviolet rays. They’re planning to use you next in the same series of experiments, since the results were inconclusive.
I won’t let that happen.” She finished, lowering her eyes, a grim expression appearing briefly on her perfect face.
Without meeting her eyes he queried silently, ”Tell me what you want me to do.”
She didn’t look up as she repacked her equipment, sliding the samples he’d provided into the snug plastic sleeves that lined her rectangular medical bag.
“Be in the center of your cell at 2 a.m. I only gave you a shot of saline tonight, just like I’ve been giving you the past two nights. You should be able to fly tonight. Because of the cameras we won’t be able to ascertain that beforehand. But it’s your only chance. There aren’t any guards on the rooftop at that time.
You’ll have to fly, Ian.” She finished. And as she turned their eyes met briefly, and he saw the pain in them for the other vampire, and wondered what she had witnessed of the vile procedures they had visited on his immortal brother before he finally expired. And he knew also, as he received a glimpse of her vulnerability. that she had seen even darker things, that she was weary of it, that it was wearing on her soul.
That she had finally had enough.
“”Goodnight!” she said as she exited. Ian watched her back receding down the hallway in front of his cell until she turned the corner.
He was more than ready to leave, and would be counting the hours.
Celeste awakened in a cold sweat. As a highly prescient vampire, she was used to the inevitable bleedover that happened while she was sleeping and as she entered the dream state. But the dreams she had had recently were disturbing and very very real… and they involved Sephla.
The first two were virtually the same. She was in a brightly lit room, white lights glaring down upon her, and looking down she could see that she was great with child. She also felt a dull but crushing pain along her spine while a sharp, unrelenting pain radiated upward from her pelvis.
Standing before her in her dreams was Sephla, her face an evil mask, towering over her. Suddenly and without warning, Sephla grappled her up and threw her forcefully onto a table, knocking the breath out of her.
It was at that point she’d woken up on the previous two nights, the dream never varying.
The dream she’d had this night was different, but seemed somehow related. This time she was suspended somehow in a murky, airless environment in which bits of debris floated past and the light was dim and diffused. She thought she saw a face through the gloom, and had the distinct sensation of floating weightlessly.
Suddenly there was an impact, and she tumbled head over heels downward and downward, squeezing past what felt like the flesh of another being, then feeling a uniform pressure settle all around the circumference of her head, pressure that increased just to the point of being unbearable, and then suddenly the brilliant white light again, and she sat up, drenched with sweat, her thin white cotton gown soaked with perspiration.
“I am born.” she thought abruptly. And then she knew.
These dreams were of the past instead of the future, and in her dreams she was present at the birth of the twins. And that birth had turned out differently from her original prescient vision - largely due to something Sephla had done.
“What is it my sweet?” Ariel crooned, sitting up and reaching over to pull Celeste into the comforting circle of her arms. ”Another dream? A prescient one? Tell me.”
Turning to Ariel, Celeste began to speak.
“I’m not sure… I think that my prescient sense is trying to correct a vision I had previously, like something changed at the last minute. That does happen, you know… any vision can be changed by a number of factors - free will, prayer, meditation, energy shifts… everything is composed of energy and the flow can change direction, although some flows are so strong they constitute what some refer to as ‘Destiny’.”
“Well”, Ariel said, smoothing Celeste’s hair back from her perspiration beaded forehead. ”You need to meditate on it. Not everything you’ve seen needs to be told. I know you Celeste - you have always used your prescience for good.
I believe that if you need to tell your vision to someone you will be prompted by the spirit inside of you.
Wait for that moment, my darling - timing is critical. Now sleep my warrior Queen, and I will rest beside you and soothe your slumbers.”
It was the second time the Noble twin was meeting the stranger in the woods, this time the patch of woods behind the entrance to the underground farmhouse, and each time he was more impressed. The boy had had to use his third compelling gift from Adrastos to get permission from Buttercup to enter the woods, and had promised her not to be very long.
A few times along the path into the deeply green and nearly silent woods he thought he heard footsteps behind him, but when he turned to look saw nothing. He had left his brother sitting in Buttercup’s lap(‘the big baby’! He thought, disgusted at how infantile his brother acted at times), and was sure that his brother had fallen asleep in her lap as she read “Sam Saddlebags “ aloud for the hundredth time.
As he trotted down the trail he became more excited, and was rewarded as suddenly the tall man, Adrastos, stepped out from behind a huge pine and held out his arms.
Without even thinking about it, the boy flew up into them.
“My son, my son,” Adrastos murmured, his eyes closed, his cheek against the boy’s silken hair. Then the next moment he set the Noble twin back down on the path.
“And how did you find your gifts my son?” Adrastos asked the little boy, who looked tall for an almost seven year old and was starting to fill out. He couldn’t resist adding, ”Getting taller I see!”
The boy shuffled his feet.
“I AM taller - I’m a half inch taller than my brother, too! Buttercup measured us just yesterday. We have to keep buying new clothes because we’re growing so fast!! And I loved the gifts - I made my brother and Buttercup do stuff… and I had to use the last one to meet you here, otherwise Buttercup would have said no!”
Adrastos studied the boy thoughtfully, then spoke.
“I will teach you many things, my son. You will see visions transformed into realities that will seem a wonderment even beyond your own nearly limitless child’s imagination. And I will give you many gifts. But first I must a
sk a favor…”
Looking up into his father’s eyes, the boy wondered what kind of favor would be in his limited power to grant, but wanting to please the handsome and dashing figure standing before him, resplendent in a regal dark blue velvet coat and breeches tucked into finely tooled boots with golden studs around the top, he answered from his heart.
“Anything.” He answered, meaning it.
“Let me show you something.” Adrastos said, stepping back behind the tree. The boy, filled with the full and eager curiosity of boyhood, willingly followed him.
The other side of the tree, to the twin, looked just like an ordinary tree trunk, although it had a defect: a narrow, textured oval spot that formed a three inch deep depression. It stretched upwards along the trunk 5 feet high and was also 3 feet wide. It looked like an arborial deformity and resembled an odd sort of doorway.
“I will give you a magick word,” Adrastos told the fair - haired, handsome boy, who at that age looked like a younger version of his uncle Lux. “And I will give you this dirk, this small silver dagger that you must keep secret. It is enchanted, and will enable you to create a portal to my castle…”
The boy couldn’t help but interrupt.
“You live in a REAL CASTLE?” He queried, ”With moats and drawbridges and dragons?”
Adrastos laughed indulgently.
“I AM the only ‘dragon’ of Faquier Hall, my young warrior! Dragons are tiresome creatures anyway - they wheeze and smell. You wouldn’t be nearly as impressed as you think. In our lineage we are able OURSELVES to transform into the likeness of a dragon… but that will be a lesson for another time.
Right now I want you to stick the tip of your dirk into the center of the mark on the tree, and say “Repleo.”
Absolam did as he was told. He was thrilled with the dirk, which had cabochon rubies embedded in the handle and felt like a perfect fit to his hand. Sticking the tip into the center of the oval in the tree trunk he said clearly,
“Repleo!”
Ab stepped back as the surface of the mark in the trunk began to open and change to a swirling vortex of color and light, growing brighter and brighter. There was a sound associated with it also… a constant low sound like that of a thousand birds , their wings beating in the air, but muted somehow.
The boy felt himself being lifted from behind, strong arms across his chest, and in a moment he was surrounded by a moving and beautifully lit tunnel, propelled through it with breathtaking speed, and finally being pushed forward into the brightness of a sunlit meadow.
The scene before him was amazing. A tall castle that had been carved into a huge mountain sparkled in the afternoon sun, glinting with veins of gold and tourmaline and sparkling with glints of mica and quartz. It rose upward forever, with ornately executed porticos and turrets and citadels that seemingly brushed the cloud studded skies.
He was speechless. ”This is where you live?” he asked incredulously.
Behind him, Adrastos chuckled.
“Yes Argent, this is where I live, and where you will reside eventually. We have to return soon because your time is limited… but I will give you the Magick necessary to return…
And next time you will bring your mother with you.”
The boy looked up at him, puzzled.
“But I thought it was our secret. And maybe she won’t come!”
Adrastos gave the boy a knowing smile.
“ Aaaaah, but If we do it correctly… she will come and not remember it… it will be like a dream to her.
“And never fear, my young one,” he concluded, turning the still fascinated youngster back around to the portal entrance for their return,
“I will show you exactly how to proceed.”
It had been nearly a month since Mitzi had visited Sam’s grave at Pleasant view cemetery, and she hadn’t meant to stay away for so long, but the events of the past few weeks had been overwhelming.
Sitting on the concrete bench opposite Sam’s grave marker, she felt the same familiar tranquility that she always had. Although the familiar sadness was present, there was also the sense of refuge and peace, as if Sam’s spirit lingered here, willing to give her an audience any time she returned.
She wondered briefly if Charley ever visited his father’s grave, and made a mental note to ask him if he’d like to accompany her sometime. It was only the two of them that remembered the good man that Sam had been; they were the last to recall his ready laugh, his patience, his generosity.
She sighed heavily, and began, as she always did, to voice her thoughts aloud.
“I have twins, Sam-Coriander and Absolam - of course we call them Cory and Ab. I am loving motherhood again, and it’s so different this time, because they are quick and clever and strong and they don’t struggle as Charley did to do things for themselves. I hope you can see them, I know that you always hoped for more…”
She began to cry then, remembering a night not long before Sam’s premature demise in a car accident, when they were watching tv and she’d noticed a single tear trailing down Sam’s cheek.
She had become instantly concerned because Sam was old school and she had never seen him cry.
“What is it?” She’d asked. “What’s wrong love?”
He had shaken his head, brushing away the escapee tear.
“Just a little melancholy,” he said,”I just got the strangest and strongest feeling that we’ll never have any more kids. I always wanted Charley to have a sib, but it’s okay, Mitzi. Really. Charley is kind of a miracle kid anyway… because of my low sperm count.”
She had wrapped him in her arms.
“Look we have great insurance and if that’s what you want I’m on board for whatever you want to do - we can try another fertility specialist! Not a problem! “
He’d laughed then, and she had known that she’d made him feel better.
“I just don’t want YOU to be disappointed either! Don’t you want another one?” he’d asked earnestly, searching her eyes.
“Sure, but only if it’s YOURS.” She’d answered. What she had kept to herself after their most recent visit to the fertility specialist was that when they’d both been evaluated the doctor had told her that Sam’s sperm count was so low that Mitzi must have been incredibly fertile to conceive even Charley.
They had kissed, and then made love, and she’d promised him that they’d do whatever was necessary to make sure that Charley didn’t grow up an only child.
But Sam had left her 3 days later, in the only manner that he ever WOULD have left her.
Still, she was grateful to connect with him in this place that seemed to exist suspended in time between her future and her past, a twilight zone where their love could be remembered, where she could pay tribute to the first man that had made her feel truly and unconditionally loved.
Standing up she reached down to place a white rose on his grave. Although he hadn’t existed in form for over a decade, she knew enough now to know that his energy existed somewhere still, making him as immortal as she was.
And that in itself was a comfort.
When Mitzi returned to the farm she was surprised to see Daniel Cook in the Great Room talking earnestly with Cass, Lux and Pierre. The vampires stopped talking as soon as she entered the room, and even stood, as though they were practicing the manners of a bygone era.
Mitzi was amused.
“Well I never!” She laughed. “When did we become so formal? Standing when a lady enters the room?”
The other three looked sheepish but Cass had a reply.
“You’re the Lady of the House, my darling! And we have a hidden agenda that we hope you’ll go along with. Our brother Daniel here needs a place to stay… for awhile.”
Mitzi’s mouth formed an O before she could stop herself.
“Of COURSE you are welcome to stay Daniel!!. We have the spare room down the hallway and I can have Maia set an extra place for dinner.”
Inwardly Mitzi was shocked because she knew that th
e only reason Daniel would need to find another domicile was if he’d had a terrible falling out with his mother Dendra. Mitzi was sure that if she checked her phone she’d have multiple texts and messages from her friend Dendra. Daniel had always lived at home, when he wasn’t at the cottage. But his relationship with Fress seemed to have cooled off lately also, so that would account for why he wasn’t staying at the cottage, which was full to the rafters anyway with the younger people Fress had taken in.
It made Mitzi feel happy deeply inside herself to have a home big enough to take in members of what she considered her extended family when the occasion warranted it. After the years of having no one around but herself and Charley as first Sam, and then both sets of grandparents passed on it was wonderful to have a surplus of those she considered family.
She had known Daniel from childhood, since he and Charley were contemporaries, although never in the same classes together because of Charley’s disabilities. Daniel had always been reserved, almost to the point of being brooding, and as an adult she still sensed those same qualities. But something had changed in him since he and Fress had been a couple. Daniel had softened. He seemed more interested in other individuals and less self-preoccupied.
Mitzi was sure that the changes in Daniel were all Fress’s doing. Just being around Fress made you want to be your ‘best self’. It wasn’t that Fress was overly pious or anything-she could be as bawdy and fun as any of them. But her compassion for others, at all times, shone through like a beacon.
And although it appeared that Fress and Daniel weren’t a couple any more, the changes that Fress inspired in those around her always seemed to last.
Happily Mitzi skipped down the hallway to the kitchen to tell Maia to set an extra place.
It was another Wednesday at the cottage, and Blue and Nora were practicing yoga positions to an instructional video.
At one point Nora reached across her mat for the remote to pause the DVD.
