“I’m sorry. I really need to talk.”
“Talk ?” Miranda shouted. “You think I have time for a little gossip ? I’m working on serious business here ! And we don’t have class until tomorrow, let me remind you. So out ! OUT ! OUT !”
“But....”
Before she could get another word out, Crystal found herself at the door. A little shaken, she stood there for a few minutes, not knowing what to do, then decided to go see Helen. After all, the historian was the brains of the outfit, and she was always calm and neutral. She would not give her any great comfort, but she would help her organize her thoughts clearly.
Her heart in shreds, Crystal again crossed the apartment, heading the opposite direction to the Paladine’s room. She nearly went in unannounced but prudently changed her mind and knocked softly. There was no response. She waited, then knocked louder. Still nothing. She shrugged her shoulders and opened the door.
Helen stood in front of a standing mirror, the surface of which Crystal could not see because it was turned away. Helen let out a cry. Without giving the young woman time to react, the Paladine charged her and threw her into the hall, plastering her against the wall.
“Ouch !” Crystal said, banging her head again.
“How dare you ? Come in here without warning me ? I forbid you to do that ever again, you hear me ? I forbid you !” Helen shouted at the top of her voice, then returned to her room.
“But....”
Helen slammed the door violently, leaving the young woman stunned.
Totally worn out, Crystal turned and leaned against the wall with its rough patterns, unable to take in what had just happened, like a slap in the face. Why wasn’t anyone there for her ?
At that moment, Cornelia passed through the hall, her hair terribly tangled in rollers and wearing a fluffy bathrobe.
“You, finally !”
Dragged into her friend’s room, Crystal sat on the bed, her head in her hands, staring at her friend with glazed eyes.
The room looked like it had been struck by the Third World War. Piles of clothes carpeted the floor and the bed. At first glance, Cornelia’s room rather resembled a teenager’s. Posters of Sid Vicious and Kate Moss were plastered on the walls, the bedspread was covered in military patterns, and glasses and McDonald’s leftovers lay around, threatening to rot. It was better to simply ignore the dizzying collection of weapons and the photos of her grandmother.
Very agitated, Cornelia was trying on what seemed to Crystal to be the thousandth outfit of the evening.
“So, Lou and I, we made up. I think I can say I definitely reassured her… I gave her an orgasm that was – incredible. She woke up the neighbors. Fortunately, I rented her a chic apartment ; rich people don’t dare bug their neighbors about a good fuck ! At least, that’s my theory. And this evening I’m taking her to the opera, La Traviata. Romantic, wouldn’t you say ? I’m playing Richard Gere to her Pretty Woman. Anyways, what do you think of this outfit ?”
“Corn, I need to talk to you about Falada. He....”
“Oh, no ! No Falada right now. We’ll talk about him later. This evening we’re talking about me and my girlfriend. Besides, I have to go ; she’ll be waiting.”
The Paladine dashed out, then stopped and came back to the young woman to plant a big kiss on her cheek.
“I adore you, my princess. Have a nice evening.”
An hour later Crystal walked alone in the street. She was cold, she was tired, and so unhappy. If only there had been one single person to console her. Just one. One single person to prevent her from drowning.
She saw that she had arrived at Prince Dimitri’s private mansion and closed her eyes.
She had come back to him. But in such a fog, where else could she go ? Who else could she turn to ? She had walked for such a long time, lost, scared, without a path. So Crystal came back to the Prince, because he alone waited at the end of her journey.
She opened her eyes and contemplated the house. The image of Dimitri forced itself on her, momentarily eclipsing the faces of Glory and Falada. Dimitri. She was no longer angry. She did not hate him anymore. Crystal just wanted to collapse against him. She just wanted him to cushion her fall. And if that led her to hell, tough shit. She really could not care less.
She knocked on the door to the mansion. The butler with a burned face, the one she had nicknamed Frankenstein, opened the door.
“Madam ?”
“Hello. Can I come in or are you waiting for the Apocalypse ?”
“But, Madam, the Prince is not here,” the servant politely refused her.
Crystal’s face sagged.
“Is he doing this on purpose, or what ? The one day I need him, and he’s not here ! What am I going to do ?” she lamented.
The butler shuffled a bit, then, after thinking it over, said :
“I do not have the right, but... just this once, you can wait inside.”
“Frankenstein” left Crystal in the two adjoining rooms that consisted of an enormous living room and a bedroom. Dimitri’s private apartments. She waited to look around until the servant had carefully closed the door.
She wandered around the living room like a ghost, wafting over everything, touching nothing. Was it possible to live her life without believing in her and Falada ? What a liar and what a bastard. He had kissed her, he had made her hope, but he was with Glory. Since the beginning, the Paladin and his cheap department store mannequin had been taking her for a ride. They didn’t give a shit about her. How could they do that to her ?
Without thinking, Crystal paced around the Prince’s living room, stopping in front of an imposing mirror on a stand set up in a corner.
Suddenly intrigued, she approached it. The edge of the mirror was sculpted in onyx. The young woman inspected it. This was no ordinary mirror, but rather the same kind the girls used. It could almost be Helen’s. Maybe....
With the tips of her fingers, she stroked the surface ; the mirror turned cloudy, then foggy. Crystal pulled back, her heart pounding. An unrecognizable silhouette appeared.
“Dimitri, are you calling me ?”
That voice. Oh my God, she knew that voice. A woman’s voice, familiar.
In the glass the silhouette did not form more clearly ; she seemed to understand that an outsider had replaced the Prince. The surface became distorted with an intense, dark green smoke.
“Reject !” the voice thundered.
Facing the mirror, Crystal felt herself pushed back violently by a stream of power. She flew backwards across the room and landed several yards away on the carpet. Her elbows rug burned, she shook herself, trying to get a grip on herself.
“Ouch !”
She looked at her legs. Her knees were scraped. She jumped up and stared at the mirror. It had become smooth again. No silhouette, no shape. Crystal exhaled, wiping off the drops of sweat pearling on her forehead.
“Come to Dimitri’s place for a warm welcome,” she said sarcastically and gloomily.
I recognize that voice, but it was too distorted because of the mirror ; if only I could have heard it for a little longer. Hell, you know what, I’ve had it up to my eyebrows with these tales of the Damned.
She was much too depressed for deep thought. She would think about it later. For this one night, she would give up trying to find the key to the enigma. For this one night, she would give up everything : her ideals, torturing herself with Falada and Glory’s betrayal. She had come to the Prince to stop thinking, to forget everything, to forget herself.
Almost against her will, Crystal returned to the bedroom. It was a small room with a majestic canopy bed enthroned in the middle. Around the bed, three Bengal tiger skins covered the thick carpet.
Ashamed of herself, the young woman sat down, testing the suppleness of the mattress. The evening had been horrible and she felt so lost. Right then, in the shelter of Dimitri’s room, she wanted just one thing : to nestle down into this so very soft and welcoming bed. Where he lets himself go. Dim
itri was away, he could not see her capitulate. He would never know.
He would never know everything that she didn’t tell him and everything she did not admit. He would never know that he was her refuge and her temptation. He would never know that even when absent, he was present.
Making a violent effort to pull herself together, Crystal stood up and left the bedroom. She went into the living room, sat down on the sofa in the corner with the television, picked up the remote control and started to flip through the channels. She ended up stumbling across an old Friends rerun.
“Cool,” she said, sprawling out on the sofa before remembering with distress the conversation she had overheard a few hours earlier between Glory and Falada.
It was three o’clock in the morning when Dimitri opened the door to his private living room. His servant had warned him that Crystal was waiting for him. For an instant the Prince stood on the threshold, immobile, inhaling the young woman’s scent. Flowers and milk, a feminine and child-like aroma. She had come back.
The lights had been dimmed, and only the television was on, shooting luminous flashes around the room. He went toward her, thinking that his guest had not heard him because of the noise of the show she was watching.
Dimitri found her asleep on the sofa, curled up like a little kitten, the remote control in her hand. Crouched in front of the sofa where Crystal had dozed off, he felt an infinite tenderness steal over him as he examined her pensively. Her elbows and knees were completely scraped up. What has she been up to now ?
She sighed in her sleep and sank more deeply into the cushions. Gently, he took the remote control from her hands and turned off the television. Crystal moved but did not awaken.
One of the heavy locks of the young woman’s blond hair fell over her cheek. Dimitri pushed it back behind her ear. Crystal half opened her eyelids.
“Dimitri ?” she said in a tiny voice.
The Prince’s heart leapt in his chest. At that instant, finally, it was no longer desire, but love. He gulped, choked with emotion. When she said his name like that, like a young woman lost in the mists of a sleep far too heavy for her, he could leave everything behind him. Give up everything. For her.
Lovingly, he stroked her cheek, noticing with an inexplicable emotion that his hand covered nearly half of Crystal’s face.
“Sleep, my angel,” he murmured in a voice made raw by the violence of his emotions. One last time he clenched his jaw, trying to beat back the love which had overpowered him. But it was an empty attempt. He didn’t want to fight it anymore, he didn’t want anything but her. On his knees in front of the sofa, a monster brought down by passion, he contemplated her for a long time. A time out of time, far from reason. She was beautiful enough to drive a man wild.
Crystal moaned softly in her dreams. A smile brushed the Prince’s lips, and his face softened.
He put his arms under her body and lifted her up. Unconsciously she clung to him. Her head rolled against his shoulder.
Dimitri lay her down on the bed and began to take off her shoes. Crystal woke up and pulled herself up on her elbows, her face drowsy.
“What are you doing ?” she groused.
Her Prince flashed her one of his very special smiles. His smile from the corner of his mouth. A jaw-dropping surprise of a smile. Then he crawled over her on all fours, with the agility of a cat.
Crystal did not move – still on her elbows, she looked at him coming toward her, until their faces were only an inch or two away from each other. God, he was sexy. She was going to have an orgasm on the spot if he kept up this little game. Feeling him above her, his oh-so-virile body about to touch her, his warmth awakening every speck of her skin. Never had she wanted to, but now how could she refuse ?
“You don’t want me to take you to bed, treasure ?”
“Hmmm... yes, but I want to sleep.”
Dimitri stared at her, his eyes supercharged with desire.
“As you wish, kitten.”
“I’m not your kitten,” she resisted.
The Prince raised an eyebrow full of challenge and turned over, rolling onto his side. With a powerful hand, he took her by the waist and drew her body against his while sliding his other hand under the back of her neck to imprison her in his arms.
“Oh yes, you are my kitten, my adorable little kitten,” he cuddled her with the voice people use for speaking to a small child.
“Stop”, she protested, glowing nonetheless.
Dimitri slid his hand into Crystal’s hair and raised her face toward him. She had capitulated. He softly kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and then her cheek very close to her mouth, and left his lips there, pressed against her face.
Surrounded by the scent and warmth of her Prince, she suddenly had a desire to cry. Only now was she learning about love. Like sadness that one remembers without ever having experienced it ; like regret for what one has never lost.
“You don’t want to sleep with me, baby ?” Dimitri asked.
Then she remembered all the nights when she had not slept, the nights of solitude spent listening to the same songs, haunted by the memory of a passion that had never existed. She had waited all those nights ; she had waited constantly, spending sleepless nights waiting for the man who never came.
“The only thing I want is to sleep against you,” she sighed, alarmed by the confession that she was making as much to herself as to him.
He pulled her more tightly against him, seeking to reassure her. She seemed so troubled all of a sudden that he wanted only to protect her. It turned out to be simple, really, to cross the divide between selfishness and devotion. It was the most unimaginable thing he had ever accomplished. So simple to give his soul, so simple to fall. He had never been ill, but now he understood. Crystal snuggled up to him. She offered him innocence.
There, in that bed, the young woman’s head resting on his torso, he caught a glimpse of love. His love for her, the words they did not say, the tones too far away to be heard. He wanted to sink with her so slowly that he would feel like he was dancing with her, every second, more and more intensely.
He hugged her even closer and kissed her temple while she fell asleep in his arms, content.
A moment out of eternity, time stopping for their song. A moment stripped of doubt.
12
The Awakening
New York, Prince Dimitri’s mansion
The morning light brightened the room, piercing the velvet curtains and bathing everything in a soft light.
Before even opening her eyes, Crystal breathed in Dimitri’s scent. She felt his warmth, his arm wrapped around her. The young woman opened her eyelids. Facing her, leaning against her, the Prince was asleep. Not moving, she looked at him dreamily. In his sleep, the monster resembled an angel carved out of stone. His sculpted features, his leonine features... and he had been so sweet last night, this magic night in which all of Crystal’s problems, all of her anguish, had disappeared.
But with daylight came a return to reality. Dimitri was Evil itself, and she was destined to fight him.
With the tips of her fingers, she brushed the Prince of the Underworld’s lips before extricating herself from under his arm. Making as little noise as possible, she escaped from the bed and arranged her crumpled clothing. Standing in the middle of the room, an annoyed grimace on her face, she looked for her shoes.
“What are you up to, kitten ?”
Crystal jumped. Leaning on one elbow, Dimitri stared at her with his usual extremely irritating little arrogant look.
“I... I’m leaving. I wanted to do it before you woke up, but I guess I messed that up,” she explained nervously.
“It’s not nice to sneak out like a thief, kitten,” he teased. “I thought that after a night of being your big cuddly stuffed animal, I would have the right to....”
The young woman’s face hardened. Good God, how could she still be such an idiot ? They hadn’t been close last night. It was just a dream that the Prince had delud
ed her with, hoping to screw her.
“You have no right to me, Dimitri. I will never give you any right to me. Last night I was just tired.”
“Tired ?” repeated the Prince, suddenly angry. Hadn’t she learned anything ? How long was she going to lie for ? “Tired,” he repeated. “How can you say that ? You gave yourself last night, and so did I.”
She raised her chin.
“Oh yeah ? Well, I have bad news for you : you were the only one.”
“Don’t do this, Crystal,” Dimitri warned her.
“Or what ? What were you hoping for ? That I was going to love you simply because I collapsed in exhaustion at your place ? That I was going to sleep with you ? I will never be your lover ! Get that through your thick skull !” she nearly shouted, trying to convince herself. She wanted to hurt him, to destroy him. To destroy everything so that nothing remained of the accursed desire blazing between them. So that he could never reach her again and so that she would never again feel so weak. “You want to know why you will never have me ?” continued Crystal, whose heart was racing. “It’s because there’s someone else. Yesterday, when I sought refuge in your arms, it was him I was thinking about.”
In the bed, Dimitri sat up. The monster’s nostrils flared. And the absolute immobility of his body made him a thousand times more frightening than if he had given in to his fury. Within him, something froze.
“Get out of my home and never come back,” he ordered her with horrifying calmness.
Crystal rematerialized directly in front of the door of the Park Avenue apartment. Unable to go in immediately, she rested her forehead against the wall. After the dawn of love, hatred had surged up between her and the Prince of the Underworld, with a ferocity previously unequalled. She had felt it in Dimitri’s reptilian composure. Hatred, sudden and inexplicable, was devouring her. There was nothing left for her now. Falada had betrayed her with Glory, and her Prince had done nothing but manipulate her. He had not shown the slightest feeling for her ; all he wanted was to screw her, or maybe, or maybe... she was kidding herself.
Crystal and the Damned - Possession Page 12
