Living Violet

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Living Violet Page 23

by Jaime Reed


  No matter how many times I blinked, Caleb’s face stared back at me, mocking me for giving away my heart and lowering my guard.

  We deceive our prey. With one look, we become who they desire most.

  The phrase played over and over in my head like a bad nursery rhyme. Every word of it dug into my brain, its truth striving to take root. It was my mantra, a reminder of who he really was. An imposter.

  Applying strength born from sheer panic and adrenaline, I served him an upper cut to the jaw. Seizing a window of escape, I raced to the door.

  “Get back here!” His hand trapped my waist and tugged me backward.

  I clung to the doorjamb for dear life, my nails biting into the wood. “Caleb’s your son! How could you hurt him like this? I hope you rot in hell!”

  “And what do you know about hell?” he yelled. One tug sent me flying back into the room. My head struck the wall, the impact breaking the picture over Mom’s bed. My weight collapsed to the bed, and I shielded my face from falling glass.

  The back of my skull felt like a cracked egg, while the shots of pain trickling down my face were its yoke. My ears rang; red lightning bolts flickered across my vision. A hand latched on to my ankle brought me back to the present.

  “You’ve never given your soul to someone you love as I have.” His grip moved up my leg, reeling me to him like a rope. “I’m sure you’re fun for Caleb and all, but he’ll find a replacement.”

  Screaming and kicking, I reached out for a weapon, a miracle, something. My fingers found the squared edge of Mom’s nightstand. I remembered the blade Mom kept hidden inside. I pulled open the drawer, fished out the knife, and allowed Mr. Ross to pull me to him.

  As he rolled me over, he yelled at the blade slicing across his face, neck, and arms. I carved and diced blindly; hoping disfigurement would erase the image of Caleb from his face. I knew I struck bone and a couple of good arteries. My shirt clung to my chest, damp and sticky with what I knew was blood. This was a good sign. If he could bleed, he was still human.

  A human who could die.

  While he wailed and cupped his face, I leapt off the bed and rushed to the door. The knife tucked firmly in my hand, I ran downstairs.

  I tried to click on the light, but nothing worked. Judging by the lampposts and the tiny lights glowing through the neighbors’ houses, my home was the only one affected. The power might have been out, but that wouldn’t prevent the security system from operating. Then it hit me. I had disabled the alarm before I went to sleep, which explained how that monster entered undetected. I stumbled to the door and pushed the panic button on the security box when something caught my eye.

  Outdoor light leaked through the living room, casting a glow over a pair of feet poking behind the couch. The pale skin told who it was immediately. Normally, I would have been halfway across town by now, but I couldn’t just leave Nadine if she was hurt. With the knife stretched to the air, I slinked closer, all the while listening for movement upstairs. I peered behind the couch, then caught the scream before it escaped my mouth. The sight froze the blood in my veins and my heart plummeted to the center of the earth.

  Nadine lay in the middle of the floor in a boneless sprawl. Her hair fanned across the carpet, her limbs bent in skewed angles like a discarded doll. I knelt down and touched her pulse. Everything was quiet, which was reason enough to stay vigilant. The night left shadows around the room that made the imagination run wild. The ticking clock over the fireplace pronounced the departure of time. Five after one—not that time really mattered. There’s no such thing. It’s a device that keeps everything from happening at once.

  In that moment, the front door swung open and a familiar form stepped into the foyer. “Sam!”

  I yelped in surprise and pointed the blade at him, the blood-stained edge flashed in the moonlight. “Stay back. Stay away from me!”

  He froze. “Sam. It’s me. What happened?”

  “Don’t come any closer! You killed Nadine!” My clammy fingers began to slip from the knife’s handle, but I wouldn’t let go.

  “What? I just got here. I was halfway to the airport when Nadine called me. We got disconnected. What happened?”

  How could I believe him? Mojo or not, I had to defend myself. The man bleeding upstairs looked a hell of a lot like Caleb and almost killed me. Scrutinizing the man in front of me, I noticed his clothes and face—spotless, with no trace of blood or injury. But I had to be sure. “How do I know it’s really you?” I asked.

  He reached out his hand in appeal. “It’s really me, Sam.”

  “Prove it!” I yelled, the knife wobbling in my hand.

  He looked around the room, searching for a solution in the dark. As if one had appeared, he dove into his pocket and flipped a coin over to me. When it landed, I caught the shiny plate of a quarter lying face-up on the carpet. In light of my dilemma, I realized this was the second time I was scared out of my mind, holding a sharp object in my living room. Slowly, I lowered the knife and collapsed under the weight of grief.

  Caleb joined our side and lightly touched Nadine’s throat. “Her neck is broken. She’s still alive.” He leaned closer tilting his ear toward her mouth. “Nadine, can you hear me?”

  No response.

  I just waited, each breath holding a prayer that Nadine didn’t become victim number seven.

  “She’s still breathing; that’s a good sign. Keep an eye on her,” Caleb instructed as he placed the cell phone to his ear.

  I listened to Caleb’s calm voice relay our crisis to the operator, glad that at least one of us maintained use of speech. After a series of nods and affirmatives, he snapped the phone shut. “The ambulance should be here in a few minutes.”

  “How can she still be alive with a broken neck?” I asked.

  “Not everyone dies from a broken neck like in the movies. It depends on where the spine is severed; she could be paralyzed. They said not to move her and make sure she’s breathing or else she’ll asphyxiate. You know CPR?”

  I nodded, then jumped when the floorboard upstairs creaked.

  Caleb looked to the ceiling and then back at me. “He’s here?”

  I nodded again as footsteps rumbled over our heads, slow and sluggish, but very much alive.

  Caleb reached behind him and pulled the nine-millimeter pistol from the back of his pants. He slid the clip in the butt of the gun and unlatched the safety like a pro. Gone was the arrogant flirt with an eating disorder. In its place stood a livid demon hunter ready for action, and he had never looked hotter.

  Pointing the gun ahead, he scanned the perimeter. “Does he have a weapon?”

  I shook my head, brushing the strands from Nadine’s cheek and forehead. “I triggered the alarm. Help is coming.” I pressed down on her chest, knowing that the force of time was against us.

  My body shared her tremor when she tried to fight for one more breath. A hissing sound leaked from her lips as the breathing stopped altogether. The color leached from her face, her knuckles whitened, but managed a steady clasp to the phone in her hand.

  I pumped her chest harder and began counting. “No. No! No, Nadine, hold on for a few more minutes! Just hold on.”

  “Sam, come on, we should go. There’s nothing else we can do for her. She’s turning blue,” Caleb said behind me.

  “No!” I yelled.

  Caleb extended his hand. “Sam, let’s go. We’ll come back with help.”

  “No!” I slapped the hand away, then buried my face in her chest. No man on earth could take me from her now. If this was how it was going to go, I was staying with her. She would not be alone.

  “Fine. Stay here. Keep giving her CPR, but don’t move her neck, just the jaw.” Caleb inched to the foyer, his head volleying between the door and staircase. “Where is he?”

  “Mom’s room.”

  Caleb vanished from sight with a thunder of footsteps climbing the stairs.

  I absorbed myself in my chore, pumping her chest and counting the sec
onds as they slithered along like tree sap. My eyes blurred with tears, my hands trembled, my throat scraped with every swallow.

  I placed my mouth on hers to give her air. When her eyes flew open, my body halted and remained stationary throughout the most frightening part of the evening. Something cold and thick entered my mouth. It attained the material of vapor, but clumped and burrowed down my throat like a worm.

  My eyes locked on hers, and I saw that peculiar swirl of light in her eyes, the same one I saw with Caleb. I needed air, but the force of what entered my body pushed back the oxygen. Whatever this thing was had me in a chokehold, and I couldn’t move. Slowly, the light in Nadine’s eyes vanished, taking her and the last thread of my reasoning with it.

  Finally pulling away, a searing jab had me doubling over in pain. Grief, rage, confusion, and helplessness advanced to that of substance and could now punish within the laws of the flesh. A gut-wrenching scream echoed the walls, and it took a moment of me to realize it was mine. Every molecule ached as claws stretched and ripped at my insides. Hot and cold tangled knots around my spine, sending me into a full-blown spasm. Something invaded my body, angry, alive, and grappling for an exit.

  The last thing I remembered was a piercing white light before everything went black.

  And even after the curtain fell, I still saw Nadine’s face, inert and forsaken as she stared off to some other plane never perceived by sight.

  Neither fear nor remorse played a role on this stage. But every truth, every inch and ounce of life assembled in that final glint in her eyes.

  Those glowing green eyes.

  29

  A gunshot wrenched me out of my dreamless state.

  My eyes met the ceiling, and I could almost see the struggle taking place upstairs. Sirens wailed in the distance, increasing in volume and urgency. But none of that seemed to matter now. I no longer owned the responsibility to care. I stretched out my hand, my fingers spread wide, but it didn’t feel like they belonged to me anymore.

  I knew my body stood upright, but I couldn’t feel the floor beneath me. Something obviously took place when I moved my eyes, but I couldn’t quite associate it with sight. The clock on the mantel indicated one-fifteen, but it felt like years had passed.

  I looked to my left and saw Nadine’s lifeless body sprawled across the floor. I touched her face, which was not yet cold, but rigid and hollow, lacking that gentle hum of animation. All brilliance and strength expelled, evicted from its home to find refuge elsewhere. This violent exit had come too quickly for me to prepare, leaving me raw and chafed from the friction. Realization hit me hard and stole the air out of my lungs. The hows and whys remained hazy, but the finer points of my predicament became crystal clear. From that moment on, I became truly and mercifully numb.

  I had always wondered about out-of-body experiences, but had never known how to put it into practice, until now. My inner being, my soul, or whatever fell under the jurisdiction of conscious thought, relinquished all authority and watched the events play out without my participation. No longer able to function by my own strength, I let go of the leash and allowed the beast within to take the reins.

  I made it to the foyer, where sirens blared like an air raid attacking the house. Shattering glass, cracking wood, and pounding fists against flesh led me to the second floor.

  Leaping three steps at a time, my body moved at a natural pace, but the world slowed to a crawl. Time didn’t seem to be a factor in this crucial moment of consciousness, neither did the act of mercy. The frenzy supplied me with adrenaline and one tunnel-vision objective.

  My mom was weak, Nadine was dead, and Caleb was in the clutches of a psycho. Mr. Ross had gone too far. And it was high time he learned that messing with me and mine was detrimental to his health.

  I entered Mom’s bedroom and landed in the throes of chaos. The bed and dresser had been knocked over, the mattress leaned against the wall, and clothing was scattered around the room. Mr. Ross, in his true form, knelt on the floor, clutching his bleeding arm.

  I simply watched with amazement, not truly feeling anything within my physical confinement; only simmering rage.

  All movement ceased when Mr. Ross caught sight of the gun barrel pointed to his head.

  “I can’t kill you. That doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you,” Caleb warned with his finger firm on the trigger, his eyes runny and glowing with fury.

  Mr. Ross stared up at his youngest son in defiance. “You know this won’t end. Not until I have my wife. Adriane is mine. She’s always mine.”

  “Adriane is dead, Dad,” Caleb said, his voice wavering slightly. “She’s not coming back.”

  With eyes swimming in tears, Mr. Ross charged at his son.

  His shoulder slammed into Caleb’s chest, sending them both careening against the wall, and knocking the gun out of Caleb’s hand. Once the pistol hit the floor, several things occurred in a rapid string of calamity.

  Caleb stepped from the wall, leaving a crater of crumbling plaster. He pushed back, hurling Mr. Ross to the opposite side of the room. Purple eyes clashed in the darkness, father against son, demon versus demon.

  Before Mr. Ross could recover, another onslaught came his way in the form of a body slam to the floor. The impact cracked the wood, carving zigzags over the surface. Mr. Ross reached behind him and grabbed Caleb’s collar. With one swift tug, Caleb flew over his father’s shoulder and lay facedown on the floor. Mr. Ross loomed over his son with a hand on his throat.

  The sirens and flashing lights told me the cavalry had arrived. The police weren’t equipped to handle this sort of domestic dispute, so I stepped in.

  “Stop!” I yelled.

  Both men looked up at me.

  “Sam, run—” Caleb’s words were cut off, as he lacked the air to push them out. Not from nearly choking to death, but from sheer terror. His eyes widened, his lips parted as if to warn me of danger only he could see, a truth that he didn’t know how to tell.

  Mr. Ross smiled and climbed off his son. He stumbled closer, his movements jerky and week from massive blood loss.

  I drew deeper into the room, meeting him halfway. My eyes locked on his, not blinking, and applying the teaching that now felt second nature.

  “Adriane?” he asked, his teary eyes fevered and unfocused.

  “Yes.” I smiled.

  “Sam, run!” Caleb struggled to his feet and slipped.

  Men entered the house, radios and commands bounced off the walls. Revolving lights turned the bedroom into a kaleidoscope. But everything faded away, and in its place stood me, Mr. Ross, and the draw. I reached for him and encircled his neck. He looked down at me, his eyes glowing with surrender and need. I could only imagine what he saw in my eyes.

  We deceive our prey. We don’t need beauty, Nadine had said. With one look, we become who they desire most. The body responds, becomes a slave.

  Footsteps climbed the stairs, and time was running out. If there was a chance for second thoughts, I didn’t take it. Swallowing a deep breath, I leaned in and opened my mouth wide.

  Yells and flashlights faded into the background. Violence, rage, and despair compiled into a mind-blowing exhibit of pure chaos. Caleb had told me that the pull made sex pale in comparison. Though ignorant of that truth, nothing shot my soul to orbit like the taste of life.

  Hands tried to pull me away, voices screamed my name, but nothing on earth could steal my glory. The hunger consumed us both, and I wouldn’t be satisfied until I had claimed it all. The loss of blood made Mr. Ross weak and uncoordinated, and I took the opportunity for what it was. Somehow, he knew how this would end, and that thread of humanity, that tortured man who missed his wife, wanted the madness to stop.

  His cheeks sunk inward, tiny veins rose in bas-relief under his skin. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as the violet light retreated into the cornea. Too much of everything came at me at once, drowning me in an ocean of lifetimes, folding and overlapping in waves of electricity and power. My knees buckle
d, the foundation of my legs collapsed. Sound, movement, my breathing, and even my heart had stopped. Forever intertwined, gravity plunged us into a free fall into the abyss. If this was how I was going to go, I would take my hostage with me.

  I owed that much to Caleb, to my mother, and to Nadine.

  30

  There once lived a girl with hair the color of sunlight.

  She was meek, but determined to see the world outside

  of books and television. Though her parents worried, they nurtured her need to explore. Despite its cruel indifference, the world held her captivated. Every answer created another question, granting an infinite source of wonder for her young mind. Her imagination knew no limits, propelling her journey to distant shores. The sights and sounds of this new land left her spellbound with the promise of hope.

  I became her companion in the voyage, sharing her curiosity as the dawn unveiled its intent. To her, the world transformed every day, and one rediscovered its terrain to solve its mystery. We braved this frontier together, adhering to each other’s strength to press forward, to seek the reward behind the horizon. Me and my guide. Me and my friend.

  When consciousness returned, soft linen and warm sunshine engulfed me. The room looked familiar, the home furnishings and beige wallpaper, like a hotel suite with medical equipment.

  Turning my head to the door, I saw Mom sitting in a chair by the bed, watching me. Her milk-white skin showed not a whisper of makeup. The dark shadows under her eyes marked her frailty and fatigue. The rosy fullness of her face melted into hollow cavities of stress. Her silk blouse hung on her body in a formless heap, proving that hospitalization was the best diet in the world. Her body curled inward, shielding itself from any further violation.

  “Mom?” I called, not sure if it was the same woman.

  Her smile was the only thing familiar. “How are you, baby?”

 

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