I walked, well, stormed towards the restroom area, towards table six, intent on getting this done and over with. I felt my eyes filling. He was young, younger than I’d been. Older than the two the other day…was that only yesterday?
Just as I was beginning to pass his booth my feet tangled, totally unintentional…it was not the way I had planned to do this, but oh well, I was pure nervousness. I would have gone clear down if he hadn’t reached for me at the perfect moment and caught me. He pulled me up and steadied me. He surprised me when without a word he handed me a napkin. I looked down at it stupefied; I hadn’t realized I was crying…the napkin was for my tears. I wiped at them and he looked at Gideon crossly. He thought I was crying because of Gideon. Well, I guess I sort of was.
“Are you alright?”
I nodded, hesitantly touched his arm, held it there for just an instant, and lightly said, “Scaoileadh.”
“I’m sorry?” he looked puzzled, not understanding the strange word.
“Thank you.” I backed away from him. His hands dropped from my arms. A strange look passed through his eyes, before he resettled into his booth by the window.
He was sitting alone, but I noticed there were two plates of food. He wasn’t alone.
I felt a body brush past mine.
“Excuse me.” A bright cheery voice breezed as it passed, a young woman’s slightly bubbly voice. Her perfume was pretty, soft, floral, with a hint of exotic fruit to it. She settled into the booth across from my cull. My cull’s body. He looked different. Less vibrant. His eyes…they were sort of empty looking. Did she notice the difference in him? The light that was missing from her companion?
I backed into the hallway, bumped into the payphone…did places still have those? I couldn’t think right, or breathe right. My head felt spinny. This was becoming a habit. Was she going to have to see him die? Would it be here, or later? Would she die too, or just be hurt?
I leaned against the wall. Waiting for the mhésen. I had to collect the mhésen before I could leave. Had to get it to its Ingress. My vision was blurring, the restaurant patrons were melting together, the room was cocked at a strange angle. Where was the mhésen? I squeezed my eyes tightly closed, willing the room to behave. I wasn’t feeling very well.
~Milseachd~
What was that whisper? Why was there always that whisper… that humidly alluring voice…whenever I felt the world spinning away from me?
I could feel myself sliding down the wall, vaguely heard myself ask, “What’s wrong with me?” I think I may have said Gideon’s name, or maybe I’d just thought it. Then arms were wrapping around me, lifting me, helping me to stand. I felt so weak, as though my legs had given up when my head swirled. I was tucked gently under his arm, Gideon’s arm, helping me walk, guiding me out of the café.
“Can you manage here for just a moment, by yourself?” He’d lifted me to the hood of his car. The shade of the tree we were parked under felt good on my eyelids. I couldn’t keep them from slipping closed. I wanted to sleep, drift away and snuggle up with Gideon nearby. No! Shut up brain! But his arms felt so good around me, so strong and solid, like if I stayed there long enough everything in this life would make sense and right itself.
I nodded, he was waiting for me to answer before he would walk to where the mhésen stood and waited for him.
I actually had no idea if I could manage not to slide right off and into the gutter, but I’d give it a shot.
Through shadowy sight I watched as he led my mhésen to the brightly lit doorway that had opened between two large red maples on either side of the sidewalk. It was an amazing doorway…it looked as if it belonged in a gothic castle…and there it had just popped up between two lovely trees.
I felt kinda tipsy, as if I’d been drinking on an empty stomach…or took too much allergy medicine. The luminosity emanating from the doorway was enthralling, I wanted to go there. What was beyond that light? Was it heaven, was it hell? If a soul was not a soul, as I’d always thought, was there such a thing as heaven and hell to the Bháis? Or was it something different? And why? Why were they not angels? I knew now what they called themselves, but why was it all something completely unlike I’d been taught?
Oh yeah…I’d looked up Ingress, it was—as reported by Dictionary.com on my phone—a means or place of entering; entryway.
Entryway to what?
My mhésen entered, but not before turning and looking at me. I couldn’t see his face clearly. I’d begun to shake, tremors racing through my body, under my skin, through my bones. I felt so weak and yet could feel, sense something shifting within me, something that was intense, strong with promises…of what kind I had no idea.
I felt myself veering sideways until I was lying on the windshield of Gideon’s car. I saw, sort of, the mhésen pass through the Ingress, and then the Ingress flickered, just wavered out of sight…gone.
And then I saw Gideon turn to me.
I didn’t wake until well after night had fallen. I was on my bed, still fully clothed, minus my boots. A blanket was draped over me, tucked around me. I was cozy and didn’t want to move, but then memories came crashing around my peaceful cocoon and unwrapped my sense of safe haven.
And my stomach was protesting over my abandonment of food for the day.
I wondered how much trouble I was in for my screw up today, for my semi-fail of a cull. Everything had been going just fine…until it just wasn’t anymore. What was wrong with me?
I swung my feet to the floor, I should eat.
My bedroom door was wide open. Obviously Gideon had brought me home after, I can only assume, I passed out again. What was that about?
I left my room, padding on bare feet to the kitchen. And I froze in my tracks as I rounded the corner from the hallway. Gideon was in my kitchen. Pouring soup. It smelled like Hot and Sour, hopefully from Red Dragon. The spicy-tangy scent wafted through the apartment towards me, making my mouth water—Gideon might be adding to that as well. Shut up brain!
Without turning he acknowledged my arrival in the room. “Well, hello there…how are you feeling?” He turned to face me, deftly sliding a bowl of the soup across the counter to me, not a drop escaped. “Try to eat something.” He wiped his hands on a dish towel—why was it that every little thing he did captivated me this way? He came around the counter, passing me without a glance, and went in to the living room.
I had questions. And he had said at the café that there was more to tell me, he just couldn’t do it there and then.
He stopped at the window, my favorite window in the apartment, which overlooked the courtyard and the little gas lamp that burned so charmingly throughout the night. He was staring out, an intense look plastered across his face.
I liked it better when he wore that playful smile, as rare as it was, that played at the edges of his lips. This was the look that always set my mind to a frantic, scrambling, state of anxiety. The kind that made it hard to breathe right…in a bad way.
I settled myself into the far corner of the couch, furthest away from that window, and him. I blew softly on my soup, it was steaming and I had no desire to burn my tongue. I tucked my feet under me and sipped at my dinner. I was cold. Still chilled through.
The apartment was so quiet…except for the rain. I could hear it pelting against the glass panes occasionally as we stayed fixed in our spots, not speaking. I normally had some sort of sound permeating the place, sometimes even when I slept, either the television or my music. It was a comfort/loneliness thing. Sometimes the quiet got to be too much for me. I’d think in excess without the distraction of the sounds.
I shivered. Would this chill ever go away? It ran so deep and steadily through me.
Gideon pulled the chunky, deep plum, cable knit blanket from the ottoman, and wrapped it around me. The gentleness of his gesture didn’t match the emotions battling on his face. Concern was etched just beneath the surface, poorly veiled by his usual visage of cool stoicism.
When he leaned over me
, to wrap the softness around me, I couldn’t help myself…I inhaled his scent furtively. It was that same spicy, earthy, smoky fragrance. It was wilderness.
I shivered again. This time it was not from the chill.
He settled himself at the other end of the sofa and contemplated me.
I ignored him, or pretended to anyway. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. It was too confusing. How could so much be felt in just a single week? It made no sense to me. And though I felt quite a bit for Liam, he pushed me away—over and over. But still…how could I feel anything for Gideon…at all. My body betrayed me…as did my heart. I was hyper aware of him, but didn’t want to be. My understanding of the situation was nil.
“So what else was there to tell me?” I began slightly nervous, after all I’d totally flubbed the second part of my cull…my second ever cull. “How much trouble am I in for screwing up with the mhésen? Is the Comhairle going to—” I stopped cold.
He said he would be the one to do it. “Is that why you’re here?”
The words scarcely made their way past my lips. My heart was racing, hammering relentlessly against me chest. Was he here to kill me, end me?
A smile danced across his lips and he shook his head. “No. You’re safe. I’ve been here all day. If I was going to do it, it would have been finished hours ago.”
Well, there’s a happy thought. Not. But thinking of him being here all day as I slept was a nice one.
“Why? And why?” I was relieved. Immensely. I wouldn’t die for today’s job done badly. But why?
“What?” I’d surprised him. I was always asking questions, so I didn’t understand why he was startled now.
“Why am I not in trouble? And why are you here? Oh…and why did that happen to me…what’s wrong with me? I don’t faint. I’ve never fainted, but in the last few days I’ve done it twice.”
“What exactly happened after you touched his arm? You seemed to be doing very well…until you broke contact and moved away from him.”
“I don’t know. I suddenly was just shaky and couldn’t see right, everything blurred and kind of melted together, and then I just felt weak all over. And there was a whisper. A voice. A word in my head. And I felt…something…I don’t know quite how to describe it.”
“You? The author, can’t come up with words? From what I’ve read, that’s not a typical dilemma for you.”
He was teasing me? I felt a blush creep up my neck. He’d read something of my old work? “No. I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s happened before…since I’ve been here. It’s not always the same. Today it was light, soft, like being…wrapped…in this blanket.” I nestled deeper into its warmth. “I don’t know. The other night, at that club, it was like…under my skin…it was effervescent…fizzy, but then it turned to fire all along every bit of my flesh, in my blood.” I stopped.
Something in his eyes shifted. There was a hint, a glimpse of something heated, almost predatory in his gaze. A hunger. And then it was gone, as quickly as it had shown itself.
I had sworn to myself that I would not confide in him. It was crazy to confide in him. What if what I was telling him was some sort of defect in me? I already knew I was different than them, somehow unusual. I clamped my mouth shut before I could mention anything about the strange tendrils of glowing light that had appeared around me, around Liam and me. Instead, I sat fidgeting nervously with my spoon in the bowl, while he studied me, a frown resting along his brow, as he stroked a hand across his jaw and down his neck. My eyes lingered there just a moment too long. Did he notice?
“What?” I asked dimly. “What is it?”
“Honestly? I have no idea. I’ve never heard of anything like it. You are quite the conundrum, Draghail.”
“So, I still have my job then? And what is that word?”
“What? Conundrum?” His mouth hitched up a bit on one side.
I cocked my head to the side in exasperation. “No. the other one. The one I can’t pronounce. Drayill…I don’t know.”
“Draghail. Trouble. Troublesome…” He tried to cover his fraction of a grin with a scowl…but I wasn’t buying it. Did he not dislike me as much as he put out that he did? And if so…why did he act as though I was such a problem to be saddled with nearly every moment we were together? “And you still have your position in the Bháis. Your cull was perfect. Whatever it is that took place after does not seem to be of your doing or any fault of your own. The mhésen made it to the Ingress.”
“But only because you were there. Won’t the Comhairle be pissed off and make you…”
“I finished it. It’s fine. For now.”
We had a brief stare off…not an angry one…just one of a completed conversation that really had nowhere else to go. I wanted so badly to know what it was he had originally planned to speak to me about, but my head was feeling swimmy, and I finally was defrosted inside.
I felt my bowl begin to slip from my fingers; luckily Gideon caught it before it could cause any messy damage to the beautiful blanket.
My head fell gently to the left and settled against the cushions of the couch back. It felt good there. I nestled in comfortably, my eyes drifted shut. I’d rest them for just a bit, and then I’d ask him again about what more he needed to tell me.
I could feel him shift from the couch. I didn’t want him to move farther away. I liked him being there, just at the other end, even if he was out of reach.
I heard the bowl being rinsed and set into the dishwasher. It was faint and seemed so far off from me, from this place. I sighed. It was nice just having him in the apartment, moving about, breathing.
I felt myself drifting away…going into that half-awake half-dreaming place. Not too far off I could hear that whispery voice; I loved that deep whispery voice, even though I couldn’t understand the words murmured I could understand their meaning, almost…sort of.
I sighed sleepily.
Gideon should be around more, around me more. He could make it all ok…make it all make sense. I knew it. I snuggled the blanket tighter to me and nuzzled my face in its softness.
A moment later I felt Gideon stop at the back of the couch. He seemed to just be standing there. I couldn’t get my eyes to open, and I was too far gone in the land of half-sleep to say a word.
But I could feel him coming closer, feel the electric heat rolling off his body, and I wanted to reach up to him, but I was powerless in this paralytic quasi-dream state. I felt as he placed a kiss on the top of my head, lingering for just a moment. “I’ll get this figured out, Milseachd.” And then he was too far away, and I heard my door close, the lock engage.
Meelshokt? What was that? That was the word, the whispered word…he knew it.
Gideon kissed my head.
I smiled in my sleep.
~ Chapter Nineteen ~
I stand at the curtained doorway of Gideon’s private room watching as they both are leaning intently into a laptop computer that sits in front of them on the coffee table.
The usual fire is crackling in the hearth. The room smells wonderfully of pine. It brings to mind the holidays.
How will I celebrate them this year? Not only do I no longer exist as that other girl, but if what Gideon has been telling me is true, and I ‘know’ it is, then the holiday—Christmas—is, and has always been, something of a sham.
I don’t quite know what to do with that. A hijacked holiday. So too would be Easter. Do I still get to have Halloween?
I can hear what they were saying.
“It’s like she said. She does not look the same as when she was here eight years ago. She was telling us the truth Gideon.”
Gideon merely nods his concurrence. He appears to be truly absorbed in whatever they are looking at.
Wait…eight years ago? She? They’re talking about me. When I’d been visiting here before. Long before them.
My hair had been black and styled differently. I was very Goth at the time. I still love the scene, but I’ve let my hair go its natu
ral color.
I have over the years transitioned through many areas of Gothdom. I’ve been the Romantic Goth, the Victorian Goth, Medieval Goth, Tribal Goth, even Faerie Goth. I’ve had red hair, black hair, twisted and bead wrapped hair, but a few years back I’d grown out my natural amber-honey locks. Of course this death thing has kicked up its coolness a few awesome notches that only intense sessions with a colorist could have achieved before. Sometimes I’m a mash up of two or more clothing wise, but I prefer my natural color over all the dying.
Anyway, the look of eight years ago was long gone.
I can hear within the silence of the room the keys on the keyboard click, pause, click, pause, click…
“Are you seeing this too Liam?”
“What? She’s always been gorgeous?”
I see Gideon look at him with reined in hostility. Then as he points at the screen say, “No. Well yes…but I’m speaking of how she has not changed since she was roughly twenty three…aside from her hair color and clothing choices. Her face. Look closely at her face. Around the eyes, the cheeks, the neck, her mouth…” Gideon stared at his computer screen when he said mouth, longer than at any other of the aforementioned features. “No added lines, no dark circles, none of the usual ravages or changes that time brings to any woman between twenty and thirty. She hit a certain maturity and her aging appears to have stopped. Why is that?”
“Excellent moisturizer?” Liam shrugged.
Gideon scowled at him. “No. I think it’s more. She’s more. I have to find out what…and what exactly is happening to her. There was something about her before we ever came into the works, before she died”
Gideon closes the laptop with a snap. At the same time there is a loud slam behind me and I jump in knee-jerk reaction.
I spin around and suddenly I’m with Eyvindur. Elysium has dissolved into a violet tinged forest.
And I’m stroking Eyvindur’s strongly muscled flanks. I’m so happy to see him.
I leap up onto his back, my hands tangle into his mane, and we trot off through the forest. I duck under low hanging branches and he moves sure footedly over fallen branches from the enormous trees under which we travel. It’s good to be with him again.
No Time to Cry (Nine While Nine Legacy Book 1) Page 16
