by C. L. Quinn
“I don’t believe in destiny. You’re born, you live, you die. Everything else is mostly random luck or misfortune. Most of us step in shit a lot of the time and don’t even know how to scrape it off of our shoes. Send a kid to war, it gets worse.”
“I know, Marc. That’s why we’re on this plane. Come.”
“No.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I really don’t know you. Yet…” Marc looked into eyes that sparkled like blue diamonds. “Yet I do.”
“All right. Come with me, then.” Tamesine held out her hand, and with only a slight hesitation, Marc took it.
The dizziness he’d felt when he was carried through air by the vampires was nothing compared to this. His mind reeled, images flying past him, things he knew, people he recognized, places, blurred. He stood suddenly in front of the barn out back of the house he grew up in with three brothers and a sister.
On a beat-up chopper with a long banana seat, a much younger Marc sat on the big seat with a pretty girl of the same age straddling him. Slightly freckled with long dark hair pulled into a high ponytail, the girl wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward to kiss him. The kiss started out closed-mouthed, then she pushed her tongue past his open lips.
“First girlfriend?” Tamesine asked.
Marc nodded. “First real girlfriend. Gina. She was a sweet girl.”
“What happened to her?”
“I don’t know. She got married, divorced, last I heard.”
“I mean what happened to you and her?”
“Life. Stuff. Shit. The war. I came back, couldn’t connect with anyone, especially her. She tried to wait for me, but I wasn’t the same farm boy she’d waited for.”
“So you left her.”
“I left everything. You found me exactly as I’ve been for a while, living at night, working to forget, drinking.” His eyes were distant. “She was the last woman I made love to.” He shifted his gaze to Tamesine’s. “Until you.”
“I’m in good company, then. I’m sorry, Marc.”
“Naw, don’t worry about it. I thought this was going to be about Afghanistan.”
“It’s about you. But that’s coming.”
And it did. Moments later, his life began to reveal the events most caught in his memory, moments that defined the events of his life…boot camp, the immediate camaraderie of young men as they bonded through experiences meant to make them into soldiers, training that squeezed humanity out of the small team that Marc finally landed in. It had been necessary, because the next two years had been one long, brutal exercise in living life on the edge of war. Poor living conditions in a land of brown smoke and sand, danger at every corner, a gun and knife never more than an arm’s length away, even in sleep.
The bonds with his unit tightened, as they learned to work as a team. United, talented, dedicated, and lethal, a brotherhood in battle, they were a force unmatched and unbeaten.
Tamesine watched Marc’s face as he watched these moments of his life, very much real, playing again right in front of him. All the emotions were there, and more, because he knew the future, and while she could see him smile at jokes and gags they pulled on each other, at battles won and victory celebrations, the pain was there, too, waiting for the inevitable.
She cried alongside him, silently, when they carried out attacks successfully that had unwanted victims. Even the enemy, who were young men like themselves, who they killed without hesitation because they were all shooting at each other, brought sorrow that it had to be like this.
But the part of his life that destroyed Marc was yet to come, the day when the luck ran out and the odds won against the unbeatable American boys. By happenstance, they represented all four corners of the country and Marc, representing the upper Midwest. The day came when only one would go home.
That was why Marc had never really made it home, not really, not in his heart. Because he was still there with the boys he would always love and always call brother.
He fell to his knees as the scene played out. Tamesine wrapped herself around him, using her influence to calm him enough to be able to watch the events.
“Stop this, please. I can’t go through this again. I can’t even remember half of it. I don’t want to. Tam, stop this.”
“Marc, you must heal. I don’t know what your destiny is, but you are here for a reason and even I don’t know what it is. I have you, my love, and I will not let you go. I promise.”
With tears flowing freely, he nodded, his lips quivering, and let his eyes stray back to the caravan holding his team as a barrage of bullets tore into the soldiers. Two went down immediately, shot true, fatally, surprise frozen on their faces. Soldier Marc missed a hand-held missile that flew past him within inches to impact the back of the second car in the group, and took out two more. Marc crawled to their sides, and tried to apply pressure to a femoral artery torn open by the impact, but the blood came too quickly, and the boy that they had dubbed Dood, because he loved to draw and he doodled on any and everything he could find, looked into Marc’s eyes and grinned.
“I’m done,” he got out, before he shuddered, and stopped moving forever. Only one other soldier remained well enough to fight, and he crawled over to Marc.
“Let’s go get those motherfuckers!” Lazlo yelled. “Before they come for us!”
Lazlo and Marc, back to back, worked their way through the smoke and twisted wreckage towards the front of the vehicle to get their equipment packs when another barrage of bullets pinned them beneath the bumper of one of the jeeps.
Marc heard the whine just before an explosion knocked him out.
Tamesine held Marc, her eyes locked on his face as he watched the part of the attack he couldn’t have seen.
Marc had been badly injured and unconscious, and Lazlo pulled him deeper under the jeep.
“Those bastards!” Lazlo bent over and kissed Marc on the forehead. “Get home, ‘bro, and live an awesome life for all of us. Promise, my brother.”
Then Lazlo shot out from under the vehicle, and laid out gunfire as he carved a path to the insurgents who had destroyed his caravan and killed men he considered family. Firing wildly, he cut down everyone he could before a bullet found its way to his throat and he went down, his finger on the trigger of his machine gun, firing the entire way to the ground.
Tamesine held Marc as he dropped onto the dreamscape sands. His past faded as they returned to the landscape with the sunrise, or sunset, the sun having not moved at all.
She kept smoothing his hair back as she kissed his forehead. “It’s okay. You’ve faced the worst moments of your life and you’re okay.”
Marc tried to speak, but he couldn’t.
They sat there, Marc curled into Tamesine, while he processed what he’d seen. It was surreal, seeing it from an objective vantage point, and having the chance to see what happened in the end.
“No one told me that Lazlo charged them. I thought I was the only one spared in the attack, but that wasn’t really the case. He sacrificed himself for all of us, for the honor of the troop. Lazlo was a hero. Because of him, I made it home.”
“Exactly. And he asked that you live a full and glorious life so they could live on through you. Marc, you are honor bound to do so.”
Marc scooted back away from Tamesine to look into her face. “I just…I’ve felt such guilt. Survivor’s guilt times a thousand. To come home without one of those brave young men…it was just so fucking wrong! There’s a poem stuck in my head, has been since then. It goes, Here dead we lie because we did not choose, to live and shame the land from which we sprung. Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose. But young men think it is, and we were young. I lie in bed at night and just recite it over and over in my head. The moments lost, the chances, the hopes and dreams, loves, all lost before they even had a chance to live.”
“You’re right, of course, but nothing about life is fair. Good people die, and bad people succeed beyond wildest dreams. All that does is m
ake it even more important that you live your dream. Live for all of them. You owe it to them.”
“You’re right. God, Tam, you’re right.”
He pulled her to him again and they sat there silently watching the sun on the horizon, its arrested movement somehow comforting. Tamesine felt an overwhelming sense of serenity herself. Although she still had her own journey ahead, her own past to face, helping Marc begin to finally, truly heal had begun a healing deep inside of her as well. It stayed her demons for the time being.
This was enough, though, for one night. Her day was yet to come.
TWENTY
It was still daylight for another two hours, so Marc sat alone on the step of his apartment building with an Irish coffee. Temperatures were already climbing quickly, but the sky was fogged in, a little by nature and a little more from mankind’s abuses. Still, he thought it was a gorgeous day.
For the first time in a long time, he thought it was a gorgeous day. For the first time in forever, he actually felt good.
He was dumbstruck that the psycho-acid trip dream-walk into his past had worked. But he realized he shouldn’t be. Tam had been nothing but straight with him from the beginning.
An elderly lady who lived on the floor just below his apartment was making her way up the steps towards him. She was carrying the oversized floral-colored shopping bag she always had with her.
“Mrs. Zelner, how are you doing this evening?”
Mrs. Zelner stopped and stared at Marc. He got it, he usually just nodded at her and walked past quickly. As he tried to remember if he’d ever really said anything to her before, he realized he probably hadn’t.
Moments later, she tilted her head and said something that surprised him.
“You’ve changed, young man. Your aura, it’s clearer now, and the color has changed. I’m glad to see it.”
“Aura?” Marc asked. What the hell? Was everyone he ever met a little crazy?
“Yes, aura. It’s an energy field around every living thing. If you’re a bad person, your aura will show it. Or if you’re sick. Or if you’re well again. I think you’re the latter category. I’m happy for you. Here.”
She fished into the shopping bag and brought out a small white bag. “It’s for you. A celebration.”
Marc thanked her and stood up to hold the door open for her. He sat back down, amazed at how well he was adjusting to this supernatural stuff that just a week ago, he would have told anyone was hocus-pocus. The bag she’d given him intrigued him, so he opened it to see, lying side by side, three long donuts, chocolate-covered with white icing. At that moment, he couldn’t think of anything else that would make him happier. He laughed for the pure unadulterated joy of an easy summer evening, a good cup of coffee, and a sweet icing-filled donut.
Biting into one of the donuts, Marc captured a squirt of slick icing as it jetted out of the hole his bite had caused. The other two he was saving for the woman who’d saved him.
What was that heavenly smell? Waking, ravenous, as usual, Tamesine opened her eyes slowly. Marc’s face floated above her, his hand inches from her nose.
Sugar! She scooted back and sat up.
“Look what a sweet old lady gave me this evening. I saved two for you.”
“Bless you! I feel extraordinarily famished.” She bit into one and threw her head back. “Oh, my God. Marc, this is ambrosia.” After taking another bite, she caught him staring at her. “How are you tonight?” she asked, her eyes searching his.
He sighed, but smiled. “I’m good. Better than I’ve been in many years, thanks to you, and my supernatural journey. I think I can do this now. I’m ready to move forward without looking back. You gave that to me.”
“No, not me. I just showed you where you’ve been and supported you while you confronted your demons. You’re doing it all yourself. I’m so grateful this worked.”
“Yeah. Well, I still feel like I owe everything to you. I’m looking forward to helping you discover what you need to know, too. When did you want to do that?”
“No rush. It will come. Right now, I want to eat and forget about Lamont and the SRS.”
“How about a proper date? Are you up to a normal human dinner date?”
“I’ve never had one.”
“It’s past time. Do you need anything? I can get whatever you want from your apartment for you.”
“I’ll go back and get dressed. Why don’t you pick me up in an hour?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
He bent low and licked a spot of icing from her lip.
“It tastes better like that. All right, dinner and dancing, in about an hour.”
Hot water flowed over Tamesine’s sore body. She was nearly fully recovered, the vampire healing process was complete. But her chest still felt tender. Multiple gunshot wounds would do that to you.
But she was feeling better than she had in a long time. It was true that the healing journey she’d traveled with Marc had impacted her mental state greatly. Her own heart and mind were calmer now, and she was anxious to get on to her own spirit journey and be whole again, too.
Marc. What an incredible surprise he was. Almost a thousand years had passed since she was truly well, and he was one of the brightest spots in all those centuries. What was broken can’t always be fixed, but he was fixing her.
With her head under the generous waterfall of the showerhead, she whispered, “Thank you, universe, for him. Even if I can’t keep him, I thank you for this time.”
Marc arrived right on time, even knocked on the new door, like a proper date.
Tamesine opened the door to a very appreciative smile.
“Wow,” he said.
“I aim to please.”
She really had. A white halter-top sundress had hung in her small closet since she’d arrived, but she’d never had reason to wear it. After the shower, she’d hurried down to a little store one street from her and picked up strappy high-heeled sandals with sparkling stones that glittered when she moved her feet. The blonde curls were drawn up into a messy bun with long tendrils cascading around her face.
“You’re gorgeous. I am honored to escort the loveliest woman in L.A. to dinner tonight.”
The dinner was perfect. They savored the excellent food, laughed over past moments of their lives, good moments, childhoods forgotten, futures warm, and just enjoyed each other’s company. Several times, Marc leaned over the table to touch her, a hand here or there, he fed her from his plate, a foot brushed up against her leg.
It was all charming and lovely, and Tamesine tried not to feel sadness that this was the last time she would be with him like this.
It wasn’t her life. He didn’t belong with her. After they took her journey, she was going to honor Lazlo’s example of sacrifice, and give him back to the life he should have had all along.
Later, he took her to The Iron Butterfly, just before it closed, and danced with her, slowly, to a classic love song, their heads together as if they were new lovers who had the world at their feet.
They didn’t notice Joe standing behind the bar, watching how they fit so perfectly together, grateful that this man had found what he needed to be well again. Joe could not only see it, he could feel it. It was heartwarming to see Marc in love. He lowered the lights, locked the door, and left through the back.
After three more songs, Marc looked around the room and realized that they were alone.
“Shit, we closed the joint. Literally.”
“Ah. The company was too good, I didn’t notice either. Your friend is a good man.”
“Joe kept me going these past few years. He’s kind of been where I was. I have a lot to be grateful for, I realize that now. I just had to get out of my own way.”
Tamesine pulled him closer and kissed him, a deep kiss, soul-deep, and when she moved back, he kept looking at her.
“Wow. That was…almost a goodbye. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“No. But I wanted to let you know I’m grateful, too, for what y
ou’ve done for me.”
“Tam…”
“Marc, take me home, and make love to me. Make me forget anything exists in this world but the two of us.”
He hesitated, but nodded, and took her hand, led her out the back of the club, and walked her back to her apartment.
He carried her down the stairs, and into the bedroom without any words, none were needed.
Tamesine stood still, silent, while he undressed her, his fingers lingering, caressed her skin with each movement. Then he set her on the edge of the bed, dropped onto his knees, and slipped off each of her shoes. Gently pushing her back, she let her body fall against the mattress as he lifted her legs up onto his shoulders and began to lick and nip her inner thighs. Moving backward, he licked down the inside of her legs to her knees, which were ridiculously sensitive and made her squeal, to her ankles, the sensual nips pushing her from pleasure to ecstasy.
He traveled back up the other leg, and when he reached the apex between her legs again, his tongue played, lingered, tugged, and dove deep, an aggressive attack meant to push her quickly to orgasm. But then he stopped just as she began to spasm and quiver, and he pulled back.
Marc was still dressed, so he quickly pulled off his clothes and crawled onto the bed to drag her up fully so he could cover her body with his.
“You need to fill me up, baby,” Tamesine whispered.
“I will. But I want you to drink from me. I want to blow you from this planet when you come.”
The vampire in her responded and flipped him over, she was on top of him in a split second and plunged down over his heavy, engorged cock. God, he filled her completely. She brushed his hair aside, and as her breath tickled his neck, she bit.
Drawing long and deep, Tamesine groaned at the taste of his blood coursing into her, moving up and down against him, each stroke inflaming her more and more while Marc matched her cadence perfectly. It was only moments before they both came so hard, he held tight for fear that she would, literally, blow out of this room.
