Scryer

by West, Sinden

  And I had, making him release himself into my mouth, and I swallowed it down willingly. After, we both fell asleep, clinging to each other like there was no one else in this world.

  Chapter Nine

  I checked my phone for the tenth time and still there was nothing from Danilo. The pizza parlor was getting busy, and evil looks were being directed at me for taking up a table. Eventually, I sighed and threw my phone back in my bag as I stood. The table was immediately swooped upon by a bunch of impatient teenagers.

  I tried calling him one more time once I made it outside, but again there was no answer. I was getting pissed now. There was nothing worse than being stood up. It was a shame I couldn’t predict my own future to prevent things like this happening.

  Unhappily I stomped up the street, heading for Danilo’s apartment. He was probably in bed with that Ellen girl and hadn’t given me a second thought. But as I turned the corner, the flare of police and ambulance lights greeted me, and all anger within me died.

  Maybe it was his father’s liver finally giving out. Maybe Ellen had an asthma attack, or maybe they weren’t even there for Danilo. Maybe it was for someone else…

  A cop prevented me from entering and I sucked in a breath, ready to give my best argument. Before I could though, an authoritative voice said, “Let her through.”

  I stiffened and twisted my head.

  “After you, Ivy.” Lake gestured with his hand for me to go forward and everything in me died at that second. There was no doubt now—something bad had happened to Danilo.

  “What are you doing here?” I whispered.

  He looked at me with hard eyes. “You know.”

  Hugging my bag to my chest, I turned as if defeated and moved past the policeman guarding the entranceway, my feet automatically taking me to the stairs and propelling me up each one even as my mind screamed at me that I didn’t want to see what was up there. Lake was close behind me, his footsteps echoing as a constant reminder of his presence.

  More police crowded the hallway, but seeing Lake, they let us through with no question. The Corins owned people. It was no surprise that the police would be on their payroll. The door to the apartment was wide open, and I stepped through it silently to be confronted with the backs of several men, one of whom was Michael.

  He turned and frowned as he saw me. “What’s she doing here?” he asked Lake.

  “She needs to see,” came the answer.

  This angered Michael. “No she doesn’t. Get her out of here…”

  But I pushed past him as if he had not spoken. Bile rose in my throat, and I felt hot and cold all at once. I tried to swallow and couldn’t. Nothing about me could move. Neither my legs that were dying to remove me from this scene, nor my eyes that I desperately wanted to tear away and stare at something else, anything else.

  Red.

  Red.

  Red.

  If the carpet had ever been another color, it was indiscernible now. A small amount of the original white wax was visible on the blood-splattered candles. Just like if Danilo had ever been alive and intact, it was hard to imagine by the horror that lay at my feet. His naked form lay on his back with his eyes staring upwards. At least his face was the same. But his torso had been ripped open from his throat to his waist. An unmoving lump of flesh had been torn out and placed on his skin. His heart, oh God, it was his heart. It no longer belonged to Ellen. Instead it had been rendered useless, there for anyone to take.

  It needed to be put back where it belonged. It needed to pulse with love and desire for a little while longer to make up for all the bad that had been inflicted on him in his short life.

  The frozen spell that had taken over me seemed to break, and my hand went to my mouth. “Oh, Danilo,” I breathed and started forward, hand out, to take that heart and put it back in its rightful place.

  Strong arms grabbed me and forced me out before I could touch anything. I didn’t fight. I just allowed Michael to maneuver me like he always did while I stayed as compliant as a doll. He placed me down on the floor of the corridor so I could lean against the wall for support. “Are you going to be sick, Ivy? Ivy? Ivy?” His voice sounded like it was through water, muffled and thick. Why was he taking care of me? Why wasn’t Lake?

  “Fine,” I said when I found my voice. “Fine. I’m always fine.” Then I met his eyes and sneered. “Get away from me.” I pushed his arm away and stood, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin. My grief had now turned to anger, and I liked that much better.

  Michael stood from where he had been crouching next to my pathetic form and straightened his tie. “Lake will take you home. You should rest, Ivy. You’ve had a shock.”

  “No.” My voice was like steel as I simply walked past him, ignoring Lake, and headed for the stairs. No one got in my way. If they had, I would have plowed through them with no mercy. I didn’t need to touch the railing as I flew down the stairs. My legs powered me on; they were the only thing that I could depend on. Suddenly, I was out on the street and ducking under crime scene tape.

  Then I stopped. I could run as much as I liked, but that scene of Danilo’s desecrated body would never leave me. My mind needed to burn with other things; with people I didn’t care about.

  A man stood by the tape. I didn’t think that he had any real purpose to be there; he was merely being nosy and getting in the way. His cell phone was out, and he was recording the events in hope of seeing the body, perhaps. Clumsily, I stumbled toward him and blindly reached out. His skin was warm under my fingers and the reflective cell phone screen shimmered and then came the inevitable fog. In front of my eyes, unseen to anyone else, I saw the man beating his wife. The leather belt was doubled over in his fat hand as he swung it down toward where she lay on the floor with her hands uselessly up in an attempt to defend herself. I heard the slap of the belt on her skin and her mournful cries and pleas as he continued until she was an unmoving mess.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he sneered at me as he snatched away his arm.

  I smiled. That was better. I just needed to see all the other terrible things in the world, and then Danilo’s heartless body would just fade away from memory, buried by a world of despair and horror. He wouldn’t stand out.

  The man’s hand formed a fist as if he fought the urge to punch me, and I almost wished that he would. But instead he just snarled at me, “crazy bitch” and turned away.

  I reached for someone else, but a firm hand on my upper arm pulled me aside roughly.

  “What are you doing?” Lake asked.

  “Making everything better.” I gave him a rough shove, and he let me go easily.

  “I’ll take you home,” he said.

  “No.” I stepped back. “Someone needs to find his father and tell him. And his girlfriend. Her name is Ellen.”

  He stepped towards me, but I stepped back out of reach. “We have people to take care of that.”

  “Good,” I muttered. “Good.” And I lurched away like a drunk, my legs no longer as reliable as they had been. They wouldn’t run when I told them to and Lake wrapped his hand around my wrist, turning me to face him.

  “Can’t you pick up anything about who is doing this?” His forehead was creased like he was disturbed.

  I tried to wrench away from his grasp. “I can’t pick up anything about other scryers. You know that.”

  He pulled me closer. “Then I’ll take you home with me until we can assure your safety.”

  “I’d rather take my chances.” I kicked him in the shins and his mouth tensed into a thin line as he released me.

  “You’re being foolish,” he said tightly.

  There was no point answering him. With my head down, I walked away, making sure that I brushed against as many people as possible in order to bury the memory of Danilo down deep. By the time I arrived home, I had seen the worst of humanity, and it made me want to sink down to my knees in despair.

  Every light in the apartment was on, and immediately I turned them of
f. It was better to live in darkness. I heard a shuffling sound, and Penzance came into view. She wore a robe and her pink fluffy slippers. Her hair had just been washed and hung down in wet, bedraggled strands around her face. Her face was pale.

  “You look sick.”

  “So do you,” she replied.

  I shrugged. “Yeah, well, a friend of mine just died.” I didn’t look at her as I said that just in case a lump decided to form in my throat. It didn’t though, and I gave a sigh of relief as I turned off the last lamp so that we were lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the window.

  “I’m sorry, Ivy,” she said softly. I had expected her to rush over to me and hug me, not that I welcomed it; it was just that was part of the Penzance that I had come to know. Instead, she stayed where she was.

  “Don’t worry about it. Actually, I might give Caleb a call and see what he’s up to.” I had just decided this. I needed the carnal, uncomplicated comfort that I found in his hard body. I wanted to pull him over me like a blanket and forget about everything outside my bedroom walls.

  Penzance straightened. “Caleb? You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately.”

  “Yeah. So?” I knew that she had slept with him, but so what? She had slept with a lot of guys. “Are you jealous?”

  She paused, seemingly considering her answer. “It’s just that I don’t think he’s a good guy. I think you should be careful around him.”

  I let out a laugh, one that wasn’t humorous at all. “Why? In case he breaks my heart. Don’t worry about that, sister. My heart’s made of stone. You couldn’t rip it from me if you tried.”

  And someone may just try…

  “Whatever. Just be careful. ‘Night, Ivy.”

  “Goodnight, Penzance.”

  Just before she turned toward her bedroom door, she paused, and turned back to me. “I really am sorry, Ivy.”

  I forced a smile. “Thanks.”

  She gave a nod and disappeared into her pink bedroom. After I entered my own room, I pulled out my phone and rapidly fired off a text. This wasn’t normal. I wasn’t normal. My friend was dead, I should have been crying into my pillow with rage and sorrow; instead I was inviting a guy over to fuck me. I wanted to be filled with him to replace the emptiness I felt.

  It was better this way, I reasoned. It was better to strive for happiness with a person rather than bear everything alone.

  My text was promptly returned. He was on his way.

  In the dark of the kitchen, I poured two glasses of red wine and waited. One of Penzance’s pink candles sat on the counter. I started to pick it up to hide it away, but paused and replaced it. I thought of Danilo, of a heart ripped out, of so much blood. Rage and distress rose in me, my heart began to beat faster and faster, and I felt like I needed to scream. But instead I channeled the energy straight to the wick of that innocent looking candle. At first, there was nothing, and that spurred me on even more. Finally, the wick burst into a flame.

  I let out a laugh of amazement and wonder, and just as quickly, the flame was extinguished. I put the candle away after that.

  By the time he knocked on the door, I had finished my glass and was refilling. The alcohol had gone straight to my head, and I felt almost relaxed and managed to push the horror of Danilo’s corpse aside. Instead, I thought of my triumph with the candle. I had another talent, and more importantly, I had another secret.

  As soon as I opened the door, I pushed his glass of wine into his hand wordlessly.

  He smirked. “This is the kind of greeting I like, but first…” He cupped my face and pressed his mouth to mine. “You taste like wine,” he murmured as he pulled back.

  I didn’t speak, just took another gulp of my drink, and then another.

  “You look sad,” he commented after a moment.

  I shrugged. “Do I?”

  He waited a beat. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I let out a laugh, and it sounded half-crazed. “Talk about it? What good would that do?” Another gulp of my wine slid down my throat to add to the numbness that I craved. I carefully put my glass down on the coffee table and turned to him, sliding my arms around his neck as I pressed my body to his. “All I want you to do is get drunk with me and fuck me.” I leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. “I just want you to help me forget.” I leaned back slightly so I could look him in the eye while my hands went to his belt, then to his fly, to free him from his pants.

  “I can do that. I can do all of that,” he said softly.

  “Good.” With a hard shove I pushed him back so he fell to sit on the sofa. In an instant I was straddling him across his lap, my skirt pushed up and my panties pressed against him. Gripping his jaw, I lowered my lips to his and began to kiss him softly and playfully, before I trapped his lower lip between my teeth and sucked on it hard.

  He gave a gasp and then I felt his fingers delve between my legs to pull at my panties. They dug painfully into my flesh until they ripped and he pulled them free. I released his lip.

  “That’s bad. Those were expensive. I’m going to make you pay for them,” I hissed before going back in for his lips.

  He gave a laugh, then, swiftly, I was grabbed by his strong arms and twisted around so my face dangled near the floor while my thighs were gripped against his lap and my bare ass up on display. “And how are you going to do that?” he teased. “I’ve got you completely.” I felt his hot breath against one cheek of my bottom before his mouth descended onto my skin, and I felt his teeth nip down in a way that sent delicious tingles through me while I gave a gasp of surprise and struggled. “No, no, no, Ivy. I’m not finished with you yet.”

  His hands changed their grip to either side of my butt cheeks as he expertly pulled them apart, leaving me even more exposed. His tongue trailed across his bite mark before dragging achingly down the middle, across my anus, and down to my clit.

  A moan escaped me, even as blood rushed to my head. He licked at me with deliberate slowness and I could think of nothing else but that tongue and the games that it played. I tried to thrust up against him, to make everything harder and more intense. But he held me firm. He was in control here. There was no question that my pleasure was in his hands, and he wasn’t about to let me get any relief quickly.

  “Fuck you,” I managed to say in a strangled voice. “Fuck you, Caleb.” Every time the familiar sensations began to tingle within me, he would pull his tongue away in the most frustrating of ways.

  He stopped. “Say it again.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Say my name.” His tongue resumed his lapping, more intense than before.

  “Caleb,” I breathed and the magic started. “Caleb, Caleb, Caleb,” I began to moan like it was some kind of mystical chant that would keep these sensations rushing through me.

  Without warning, he took hold of my hair and pulled me back up, turning me to straddle him. I did not protest. I sank down onto his waiting cock with impatience and began to move against him. I gripped his hair for traction and slid him in and out of me with violent motions. I treated him like my toy. I didn’t care if I caused him pain; I just needed my relief.

  “Oh, fuck, Ivy,” I heard him pant, and I increased my speed as my nails dug into him. And then I began to jerk with my orgasm rushing through me with such intensity that it was nearly painful.

  I cried out, or maybe it was more of a howl, a sound like a banshee screaming a warning of impending doom. And I laughed at the absurdity of such a thought as I floated back down to a reality where we were covered in sweat in the living room of the apartment that I shared; the only other occupant probably in bed with her pillow over her head to drown out the noise.

  I laughed again. I didn’t care.

  Chapter Ten

  They managed to keep the details of Danilo’s death a secret, and as a consequence, there was no media fanfare at his funeral. In fact, there was hardly anyone there. His father, who reeked of alcohol, had invited a few of his friends, who were li
ke clones of him and had certainly come only for the free wine and sandwiches.

  A few of Danilo’s stoner associates turned up, and, of course, Ellen. She was a pale and pretty girl. Nothing about her in particular stood out. Perhaps that was why Danilo cared for her so much. She was the kind of person who could fit in, blend in as if camouflaged amongst soccer moms, and lead a normal life. Had Danilo wanted that? A family? I had to bite my lip to stop that thought from hurting.

  The only other guests were Lake and, to my surprise, Dorothea Corin.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked rudely as she leaned in close to air kiss me, and her perfume assaulted my senses. She was out of place in her black designer dress and hat with its veil that shielded her eyes.

  She gave me her nauseating, painted smile. “Why, Ivy. Danilo and I had become close recently. I’ll miss him terribly.”

  I stared straight into her veiled eyes. “I think you like funerals,” I said in a blunt tone. “I think that you feed off of the misery of others like it’s an antidote for the poison that runs in your veins. You couldn’t live in a world where others are content.”

  I had expected her to laugh or sneer, to brush me off like I was an annoyance. Instead, she looked directly at me. I didn’t need to see her eyes to tell that they were boring into me. Her chest moved under her black lace dress as she took a breath and then exhaled. Finally, she said, “I don’t know what either of them see in you. I really don’t.” Then she turned away and slid into a pew, adjusting her skirt and trying to pull it down as if she just realized that short and sexy outfits didn’t belong at funerals. Several of Danilo’s father’s friends threw looks her way, but she kept her head straight as she waited for the sermon to begin.

  I took a seat on the opposite side, and to my surprise, Lake sat beside me.

  “And why are you here?” I asked in a low voice. “Can’t you give Danilo peace even in death?”

  “I didn’t know him,” he said dryly. “Don’t invent torment and make me into a devil when I’ve committed no transgression against him.”