Dark Stranger Immortal

by I. T. Lucas

  Brandon flashed Kri his practiced Hollywood smile. “Want a part?” He dangled what he knew she wanted but would never get.

  “Hell, yeah! I want a part!” Kri banged her hand on the table. “I can rock a role like that!”

  Syssi had to agree. Kri would be perfect portraying an Amazon warrior. “You may have something there. A movie featuring beautiful, scantily-cladly women bringing justice to the wicked and saving the innocent could become a big box-office hit," she said.

  “Who would you cast as the main kick-ass girl?” Anandur asked from across the table.

  Brandon answered without pause, “There is only one actress I could envision for that part… Charlize Theron.” He leaned back in his chair, taking his wine goblet with him.

  Anandur's eyes sparkled with excitement. “That's one helluva woman. You can count me in for the lead commando. I want a piece of that…”

  “Nice fantasy, children.” Kian broke their happy, excited banter. “No one is auditioning for any parts.”

  “Why not?” Kri whined. “We are all good actors by default; we could pull it off…”

  “Don't be stupid, Kri, this whole discussion is absurd.”

  “It was a fun dream while it lasted.” Kri exchanged wistful looks with Anandur.

  “By the way…” Kian turned to the doctor. “Do you have any news for us, Bridget?”

  “Oh, yes, there is no matrilineal connection. Michael and Syssi are unrelated to us, or each other.”

  Bridget's announcement should have been good news, and it was. But it was like getting all excited about guessing just one lottery number out of the five—no closer to winning the jackpot than if guessing none.

  With that sad realization sinking in, Syssi lost her appetite. Pretending to be busy with the food on her plate, which for all intents and purposes could have been some fast food junk instead of the gourmet meal it was, she tried to swallow. But it tasted like sawdust, clogging her tight throat.

  Hiding her somber expression behind the mass of her hair, she hoped Kian wouldn't notice. Sick of her own bouts of sadness, she imagined he was as well.

  No one enjoyed the company of a whiny, sad woman.

  “It will all work out. You'll see,” Amanda said quietly from across the table. “Chin up, Syssi… You too, Kian. A little optimism wouldn't hurt.”

  The rest of the meal went by quickly, with Kian’s palm intermittently finding its way to rest on Syssi's thigh.

  After dinner, with everyone stuffed to their limit, Amanda pushed away from the table and rubbed her flat tummy. “Who's up for watching a chick flick with me down at the theater?”

  Kian got to his feet and offered Syssi his hand. “You go and have fun, Syssi. I wish I could join you, but, unfortunately, I only made a small dent in the pile of work still waiting for me.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “Would you be back before I fall asleep?” she whispered, hating the thought of being alone in his big, empty bed.

  “The pile waiting for me would take all night to go through, but I don't intend to. Two hours tops. If you're asleep by the time I get there, I'll wake you up… Deal?” He smiled suggestively.

  Syssi dipped her head, blushing into his shirt. “Deal.”

  Kri, Michael, Anandur, and Arwel joined her and Amanda, and together the small group headed for the private theater down in the basement.

  With its eight rows of eight plush reclining chairs each, the theater was much larger than Syssi had expected it to be. But then again, this home theater didn't serve an average sized family; it served a clan.

  Sitting down, she engaged the chair's reclining mechanism, turning her viewing experience from merely comfortable to decadent. As the movie Amanda had selected started playing, the quality of picture and sound rivaled that of an IMAX. And that wasn't all. In case someone got hungry or thirsty, a full bar and a popcorn machine were housed in a curtained-off alcove behind the last row. Which was the row Kri and Michael chose, snuggling and kissing like a couple of teenagers.

  The romantic comedy had Anandur and Arwel bored in no time. So it was no big surprise when Anandur tapped Amanda's shoulder. “We are leaving to go clubbing, you want to come?”

  “No, I'll stay and keep Syssi company,” Amanda answered, sounding resigned to her babysitter role.

  “Don't be silly, go! I can watch a PG-thirteen movie all by myself. I promise I'll call you if I need adult supervision to watch an R-rated one.” Syssi pushed at Amanda to go.

  “Are you sure it's okay?”

  “Yes! Go!”

  “Okay. Tomorrow at nine, my place. We have a nail appointment scheduled for ten.”

  “Yes, ma'am!” Syssi saluted and faced the screen, pretending to be absorbed in the movie.

  She waited until they left, and then contemplated staying or going up to bed.

  The movie was nice enough, but the problem was her acute awareness of the couple necking in the back row. It was hard to ignore their muffled sounds of passion while being the only other person in the theater. She felt like a peeping Tom, or rather an eavesdropping Tom.

  Few moments and several hushed moans later, she pushed up from the comfortable chair, leaving it in the reclining position so the sound of it retracting wouldn't disturb Kri and Michael, and draw their attention to the fact that she was leaving.

  CHAPTER 13: SYSSI

  As she rode the elevator to the penthouse, Syssi dreaded how empty the place would feel at night. She hoped to at least find Okidu there, except chances were that he was done with the cleanup and already gone.

  She wondered where the butler was going each time he disappeared. Was there a girlfriend somewhere? Or maybe he was spending his free time with his brother?

  It was hard to tell with Okidu; the man was strange, kind of flat, two-dimensional, like an elaborate caricature instead of a real person. She was saddened by the thought that it might've been the many years of servitude that had painted a permanently false mask over his true self, only allowing him the expressions expected by others.

  Syssi sighed. As if she needed another reason to be sad…

  Just as she had feared, Kian's penthouse was dark and quiet. Flicking the lights on, she peeked into the dining room and then the kitchen. Amazingly, there was no sign left of the big dinner which had ended only an hour ago.

  Walking down the corridor to Kian's room, she paused by each of the closed doors and listened carefully for any kind of sound. But Okidu was either asleep or not there.

  The place felt deserted.

  Once she reached the master bedroom, a quick glance at Kian's big empty bed convinced her she didn't want to be there alone. And anyway, as strung up as she still felt after that stressful evening, there was no chance she'd be able to fall asleep.

  Deciding some quiet time while waiting for Kian was a better plan, Syssi kicked off her shoes and plodded barefoot back to the living room.

  As she slid the glass doors open and stepped out onto the terrace, the cool, soft breeze caressing her heated face was refreshing, and with a soft sigh, she sat down on her favorite lounger.

  Sprawling comfortably, Syssi took a deep breath and gazed at the clear, cloudless sky, its darkness relieved by the lambent glow of a full moon and tiny sparkling stars. It was peaceful, with the city quiet below and the distant hum of traffic lulling her with its monotone drone. But a few quiet moments later, a tinge of a familiar craving had her glance in the direction of the side table; where she had left Kian's cigarettes.

  The pack and his gold-plated lighter were still there, neatly aligned next to a sparkling clean ashtray. Evidently, Okidu had no problem with her little transgression, eliminating the incriminating evidence of the stubbed-out butt, but leaving the pack out there to tempt her.

  She looked at it with longing. Should I? Or shouldn't I?

  It took a few moments of internal struggle, but in the end, she couldn't help herself.

  Ah, what the heck…

  With a guilty little smile,

she reached for the pack, pulled out a cigarette and lit it quickly before her conscience had a chance to talk her out of it. Breathing in carefully, Syssi closed her eyes.

  She felt the tension ease out of her with each pull.

  Such a decadent pleasure. If only it weren’t stinky and unhealthy, she could've enjoyed it guilt-free. The health concern would become a non-issue if she turned, but it wouldn't solve the problem of the clinging stench.

  Well, whatever.

  Right now, she didn't care. She was alone on the terrace and in her solitude felt free to do as she pleased. That feeling of freedom, the element of rebellion she associated with smoking, was what made the whole thing so delightful—beyond the obvious chemical reaction to the nicotine.

  Later, she would just rinse her mouth and spray herself with perfume, and no one would know…

  “Hi, gorgeous…” Kian startled her.

  Caught red-handed with the cigarette in her hand and smoke coming out of her nose, Syssi felt mortified. How did he get out here without her hearing the sliding door open?

  Kian leaned to kiss her.

  “Oh, don't kiss me! I stink!” She made a move to stub out the thing.

  “No, don't stop on my account!” Smiling, he caught her wrist. “You're obviously enjoying yourself, and I don't mind the smell. They are, after all, mine…” He winked and plopped on the lounge beside her, then pulled a cigarette for himself. “Now we're going to stink together…” He lit the thing and took a long, grateful pull.

  “I wasn't expecting you so soon… you said you'll be working late…”

  “That was the plan. But a memory of a certain beautiful, sexy lady was distracting me…” He pulled her panties out of his pocket and brought the crumpled scrap of fabric to his nose. “And these didn't help either…” Kian made a production of inhaling her scent and pretending bliss.

  “You're such a pervert…” Syssi laughed.

  CHAPTER 14: KIAN

  “I know…” Kian slanted Syssi a lascivious look. Then remembering Amanda's admonition, stuffed her panties back in his pocket and decided to change topics before their sexual banter got them in bed.

  “Did you enjoy dinner?” he asked, then took a puff, exhaling it in a ring of smoke.

  “Besides Edna's probe? I guess so.”

  “Edna probed you? When?”

  “Before you and Amanda arrived.”

  “Shit! I'm sorry, baby, I know how intrusive that feels. What did she say?”

  “She liked me, I guess… Gave me her stamp of approval. Not that it mitigated how violated she made me feel. I kept thinking of what she must've seen in my memories—us together, intimate—despite her claim that she can't read thoughts, just emotions. Still, lust is an emotion, isn't it?” Syssi's cheeks reddened all the way up to her ears.

  “Whatever she saw, she must have liked it. Don't forget, we don't share mortals’ inhibitions about sex. As long as it's consensual there is nothing embarrassing or shameful about it.”

  “I'm in no way ashamed, but I would like my sex life to remain private. I'm not into exhibitionism.” Syssi stubbed out her cigarette and crossed her arms over her chest.

  Kian pushed up from his lounger to sit beside her. Looking at her pouty face, he just couldn't resist her sweet, puffed-up lips and bent down to kiss them. “Imagine you had Edna's ability and were faced with the same dilemma. Would you have acted differently?” He caressed her cheek gently, rubbing his knuckles over her sensuous mouth and along her jawline.

  Syssi closed her eyes, kissing his knuckles as they passed her lips, her expressive face flushed with the simmer of arousal stirring up inside her. Then, as if forcing herself to think past her awakening libido, she looked up with hooded eyes as she conceded, “I would have done the same.”

  Damn, with Syssi responding to him the way she did, it was hard to stick to that whole nonsexual interaction thing. He needed to put some space between them if he had any hope at all of sticking to that plan.

  With a sigh, Kian moved to sit on the nearby side table. Facing Syssi, he continued from the safer distance. “Edna is the smartest person I know. I have great respect for her. Actually, she is my second.”

  “What does it mean, a second, like second in command?” Syssi asked, looking a little hurt, no doubt wondering why he moved to sit away from her.

  “No, it's more like a Vice President. She takes over if something happens to me. It should have been Amanda, but she is not ready for that kind of responsibility. Not yet anyway.”

  Syssi nodded in agreement. “Definitely not… Amanda would have hated it. She told me she was grateful you and Sari spared her the burden.”

  “That's why I chose Edna. I know she can handle it. Edna is tough, strict, and incredibly capable. Though it's a pity that she is not well liked. Most are wary of her because she seems harsh, and that probing stare of hers doesn't help her popularity either. But I know she is a fair and decent person. A little low on compassion and forgiveness, but nobody is perfect, right?”

  “Well, I don't know about that… How about your mother? Isn't she perfect? As a goddess, she must possess incredible power and wisdom…” Syssi's eyes sparkled with curiosity.

  Kian chuckled. “Oh, she would like everyone to believe that. She is the ultimate drama queen. I guess that's who Amanda gets it from, though next to our mother, she is an amateur. Annani is incredibly powerful, but she tends to be frivolous, more passionate than contemplating. She might be as smart as Edna, but she is definitely not as wise. Trusting her gut, she acts on impulse, thinking with her heart and not her mind. Surprisingly, it has never stirred her wrong, yet. So maybe wisdom is overrated?” He tilted his head, arching his brows.

  “What does she look like? Is she majestic and regal?” Syssi was still bursting with curiosity.

  “She is. Her power is so palpable, she radiates it.” Kian chuckled fondly. “It's funny, though, that all that splendor is housed in a tiny package of a little over five feet, weighing maybe a hundred pounds, half of it probably contributed by her long hair. She could blend at a high school, posing as a teenager. With her power suppressed, she could pass for a seventeen-year-old girl.”

  “I have a hard time imagining a childlike goddess inspiring that much awe. Does she believe that she really is a goddess?” Syssi asked.

  “Yes and no. She misses the way mortals worshiped her kind and thinks she deserves it. And in a way she does. She is personally responsible for much of humanity's progress. Not to say that mortals wouldn't have eventually done it on their own, but it would have taken them thousands of years longer, and if the Doomers had their way, never. So she deserves her semi-divine status. But of course, we all know that she is not the creator of the universe if such an entity even exists in some form.”

  “So basically, your kind has no religion? You don't believe in a god?”

  “We have no formal religion. There are some festivals and rituals we observe as part of tradition, and we have some informal beliefs. But mostly we are agnostic. Just as mortals, we have limited capacity for understanding the underlying principles of material and nonmaterial existence and, therefore, refrain from making statements regarding things we know next to nothing about. It would be too presumptuous of us to do so based on our infinitesimal knowledge. How about you? What are your beliefs?” Kian asked, despite being afraid of stumbling upon another landmine.

  In his experience, mortals clung with irrational ferocity to their faith, no matter how misguided or ridiculous, and felt offended when it was challenged in any way.

  “I'm a confused agnostic. I don't believe in a personal, benevolent God who hears our thoughts and answers our prayers. I used to. It was comforting to have that kind of an imaginary friend who was privy to my thoughts, who was always on my side and would always protect me from harm. But as I got older and lost the naive hopefulness of childhood, I could no longer hold on to that belief in the face of reality. I realized that good doesn't always prevail, and very bad things happen to very good people all of the time. Humanity's sordid past and present, the sheer magnitude of suffering, inflicted by both men and nature, does not indicate a benevolent, caring deity. So instead of being constantly angry at that indifferent, or even cruel entity, I prefer to think that we are left to our own devices.” Syssi paused.

  “On the other hand, there is my precognition. How can I get glimpses of a future that didn't happen yet? Or that sometimes I have the feeling that things are fated to happen in a certain way? Or the entire plethora of experiences that could not be explained? Near death visions, messages from beyond the grave… There is just too much of it to be ignored and dismissed as quackery. Do I make any sense?”

  Kian pushed up from the small side table to sit back next to her. “Yeah, you do. Amanda believes in fate, and so does my mother. Myself, I'm an old skeptic. But what I know is not to shrug off anything as impossible and conversely not to take anything on faith. There is so much misinformation out there and so little is truly known, regardless of what scientists or religious leaders would like us to believe.” His hand was back to caressing her soft cheek, his thumb swiping gently over her tempting lips. He just couldn't stand being near her and not touching her.

  Syssi leaned into his palm and placed her hand over his, holding it to her cheek. “Edna said she hoped fate would be kind to me,” she whispered. “I have to cling to that hope.” She reached with her other hand and pulled him down for a kiss.

  Kian bent, twisting his torso so he could press his chest to Syssi's, seeking as much contact as he could from his sitting position.

  There was hunger—a desperation—to his kiss that went beyond the physical need relentlessly clawing at him.

  He yearned to fuse their kindred souls and cleave to Syssi with the certainty that together they would form something that was better and stronger than the sum of its parts. But at the same time, he suspected that once fused, they would shatter to pieces if forced apart—no longer able to survive on their own.

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