The Stir of Echo

by Susan Gabriel

  "Echo ... Echo, I didn't need all of this. I just need you, lass. I've been brooding all night at my own party because you weren't here."

  A loud crash came from the floor below, followed by the shattering of glass.

  His guests were tearing up the place, but he ignored them and rained kisses onto Echo's frozen face. She was far more important than some broken crystal that he wasn't even going to care about after tonight.

  Flynn released Echo from his arms and arranged the thin cape around her, tucking it under her legs to keep it from slipping. His cheeks ached from the smile that beamed across his face. But Echo wasn't smiling. She sat with her head bowed and her eyes cast downward. The air around her was heavy and thick.

  Flynn took her hand in his, blowing warm breath onto her frozen fingertips. “What is it? Is there something troubling you?"

  Echo eyed him, nervously chewing her lip. A few snowflakes still clung to her rusty hair.

  "I want to say I am sorry, Flynn. I have wanted to tell you for weeks. I made a mess of things and I hurt you. I was afraid you wouldn't like me anymore if you really knew me."

  So that's what she was agonizing over. She had been bearing the guilt of their spat for all of these weeks and he had run like a coward, leaving her to wallow in misery and self-doubt. He was constantly finding himself in the role of a cad in this mortal realm. Communication was a problem here and words weighed him down and tripped him up. It was so much easier back home, where telepathic communication left little room for misunderstanding. He should have reassured her that he hadn't expected perfection. He certainly was far from it. He only wanted her to trust him with her secrets. He didn't care what they were; he loved her in spite of them and because of them.

  "Like you? Mo Chuisle, what I feel for you is so beyond liking. But I do like you too—most of the time.” Flynn grinned and winked at Echo, trying to make her laugh. She didn't.

  The corners of his mouth began to twitch as the smile faded from his face. “Come on, baby, you know I'm crazy about you. Who needs perfect? Perfect is boring, right?” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She seemed so small and fragile in her nakedness. “It's okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me. What is it that weighs so heavy on your mind? Give it to me and I'll carry it for you."

  Echo took a deep breath. Uh oh, this one looked like it might be a doozie. For a second, Flynn thought she might be pregnant. It had been three weeks since their first time. There was a slim chance. In his blinding passion he had neglected to take precautions. So what if she was? It was okay by him. He wanted to have babies with her—lots of them.

  "I hear voices ... well, not lately, but all of my life. I hear voices from ... from another dimension. I'm a clairaudient."

  Echo winced waiting for his reply. His shoulders dipped, momentarily disappointed that she wasn't pregnant. He already knew about her clairaudience, but he had planned to discuss that and other matters with her after the party.

  "Aw, is that all? That's nothing to be ashamed of."

  Echo's wide-eyed look and slackened jaw communicated her astonishment. A pang of guilt stabbed at Flynn's chest. He shouldn't have let her worry over this secret. He should have found a way to let her tell him before this.

  "It doesn't freak you out?” Echo asked

  Flynn put his hands on either side of Echo's face. He looked her straight in the eye. “I don't give a fiddler's fuck whether you hear voices, see visions, or caterwaul in your sleep. All I know is that I met this girl named Echo Sullivan; she shook my hand and stole my heart. That's good enough for me."

  Finally, the worry that had tortured Echo's face vanished. The dullness faded from her eyes and the light of life now sparkled behind her glittering green irises. Her cheeks blushed like dewy rose petals against the ivory creaminess of her skin.

  Flynn could hear the Chicken Dance playing on the stereo downstairs. Someone had found his antique conga drums and was pounding out a crazy beat on them.

  "I have some things I need to tell you too, but for now, they will have to wait."

  "So, you're not angry with me for showing up like this and ruining your party?"

  Flynn scratched his cheek nervously, as his brogue rolled off his tongue with charm. “No, lass, I'm not angry, in fact I am exceedingly moved. You're not ruining the party ... you're the reason for the party! I was wallowing in complete and abject misery, certain that I would never see you again. But here's the thing, right now I have sixty guests downstairs, and a naked girl upstairs. Do you see my dilemma?"

  Echo raised her eyes to his. He winked and tickled her waist. She giggled and slapped at his hands, wriggling instinctively away from his probing fingers.

  Flynn was much relieved to see her back in good spirits. Now he truly felt like getting his party on. There was time later to continue this conversation.

  "Behind that door over there, you will find something to wear that's a bit more suitable for public viewing. I bought it for you after our little rendezvous in the Halloween shop. I was waiting for the right time to give it to you, but ... well, never mind ... you're here now, so that's all that matters. Put it on. I'll be watching for you to come down the stairs."

  "I couldn't go back and face those people. Please just let me stay up here until they are gone!” She pleaded.

  It wasn't worth continuing with the party if she wasn't coming down to enjoy it. He wanted to celebrate their last night here and he wanted to do it with her by his side.

  "I understand that you're embarrassed, but, believe me, you needn't be. That gang of drunken degenerates downstairs has no room to pass judgment on anyone. Every last one of them is wild as a March Hare and that's precisely why I invited them. I sincerely doubt you are the first naked girl they have ever seen at a party.

  I want you to be with me and I want us to have a wonderful, unforgettable time. I can't do it without you. We're a team.” Flynn held his hand out, palm up and Echo slapped her hand on his in agreement.

  "Don't be troubled, girl. This is my house and these guests are here at my pleasure.” Flynn removed the cloak from Echo and placed it on his shoulders. “If anyone snickers ... I'll bite them!” He dramatically whipped the cape over his face in Bela Lugosi fashion. “Don't dawdle. I can't wait to show you off. We are going to have a banging good time!” His cloak billowing behind him, Flynn whooshed out the door.

  Echo warmed her frozen body by the crackling fire for a few moments, screwing up the courage to face the party downstairs. The tension that had permeated nearly every aspect of her life had vanished and had been replaced by a feeling of renewal so exhilarating that her feet danced with joy on the carpet. She felt lighter than air. Through her nakedness, she had thrown off the mantle of fear and mistrust that had imprisoned her for too long. It was this seemingly absurd act that had allowed her the freedom to cleanse her soul and bare the secrets that had lain hidden in its depths.

  The person she had been just a few hours before was just a memory now. In her place was a woman who was no longer confused by the love she felt ... a woman who was willing to give as well as receive. A rush of serene contentment, more warming than the fire which toasted her fair skin, washed through her. The secure knowledge of their love for one another held her in its reassuring embrace. Her eyes, which had been cloaked in gloom, now looked out upon the world with the light of redemption.

  She had made the soundest decision that she had ever made in her life and it felt fabulous. She realized that she was not in the least ashamed. She was proud and exceedingly joyful that she belonged to Flynn. He was the most magnificent, dynamic, and charismatic man that she had ever known. Any woman would be a fool if they did not adore him. In fact, Echo was certain; any woman would give their very soul to kneel nakedly before him.

  With resolve, she walked to the closet and flung open the door. If Flynn wanted her by his side, she would be there. The decision to swallow to her pride and joyfully join him at the party didn't feel the least like she was giving in. It was m
ore of a giving out—a gesture of willingness to please him. She belonged to him and him to her. The clarity of this simple truth resonated like the clear song of a bell within her, and she knew without a shade of a doubt that she had made the right choice.

  "I am going to take my rightful place next to my man; we are going to have ourselves one hell of a time tonight!” Echo announced to the clothing that was hanging neatly on the rod.

  And then she saw it, the ivory leather fishtail gown, with the boning and the immodest lacing and zipper. The soft white kidskin mask which he had chosen for her at the costume shop dangled from a hook. Embroidered satin opera gloves, embellished with iridescent fresh water pearls, were draped over the gown. A jeweled pair of Christian Dior stiletto sandals sat upon the floor. Tucked inside of one shoe, something caught the light and glittered. She bent over and extracted a pink diamond slave bracelet.

  After dressing, Echo examined her image in the mirror. The dress fit as if it had been sprayed onto her form. Her full breasts swelled over the top of the corset, like muffin tops bursting from a pan. Her tiny waist was pinched snugly by the dress and the roundness of her hips curved gently outward, a testimony to her womanhood. She turned her body to check out the view from the rear and was greeted with the sight of her bare bottom, peeking out from the criss-crossed lacings. Flynn had not provided any panties for her.

  Why would he she thought. He had no idea that I would show up here without a stitch of clothing! Oh, well, she shrugged. It is what it is. Plus, my ass looks fabulous in this dress!

  Out the door she went, stopping momentarily to correct her posture. Taking a deep breath, she raised her chin and struck a regal pose. She felt like a queen and her king was waiting.

  One measured step at a time, Echo made her entrance, a graceful gloved hand holding up the hem of her skirt. One by one, heads turned to stare, Superman, The Blues Brothers, Marilyn Monroe, a leering “gynecologist". The hum-humming of the crowd ceased. An occasional clink of ice on crystal was the only audible sound. Even the music had stopped to mark her entrance.

  Just remember, you are never going to see these people again after tonight, she told herself.

  Echo scanned the crowd for Flynn's face. Her knees knocked nervously together. She paused halfway down the stairs and then she saw him.

  Flynn pushed his way through the crowd meeting her where she stood. He stretched out his hand to her. Trembling, Echo placed a gloved hand securely in Flynn's strong grip.

  The moment her hand touched his, Echo relaxed. Flynn had an uncanny ability to make everything better. Echo was confident that he would handle this situation with style.

  Flynn had never seen Echo looking more spectacular. His chest swelled with pride. She was his and he wanted everyone to know it.

  Bringing her to his side, he faced the multitude, announcing, “Lads and lassies, I'd like you to meet Echo. I know you'd all like to get to know her...” Flynn pointed at the leering gynecologist. “Some of you would like to get her number."

  Laughter broke out in the crowd. Flynn had successfully broken the ice.

  "However, this spectacular creature is mine. Please make her feel welcome and if you don't, I'll kick your degenerate asses out into the snow!"

  The revelers cheered and clapped as Flynn and Echo completed their descent down the stairs.

  Flynn put his arm around Echo's small waist and navigated her through the crowd. She was beaming. Her beautiful face lit up like a thousand Christmas trees. Everything Flynn had waited for was coming to pass. He felt like dancing.

  "Now start the music,” he announced. “I am escorting my date to the dance floor. And make the tune what we Irish like to call, an Erection Set ... nice and slow."

  He guided Echo to the parquet floor in the drawing room. As they took their dance positions, Flynn caught a glimpse of Echo's luscious bare bottom peeking out from beneath the lacing of her gown. His mind flashed back to the time when Echo was bent over his knees and her apple-bottom writhed beneath his hand. His cock began to pulse to the rhythm of the music playing on the stereo.

  His hand slid along her waist to the small of her back, the ivory leather cool and sensual against his fingers. Her body yielded to his lead.

  Flynn piloted her expertly, with flawless, silky steps across the floor. They moved as one, turning and stepping in a sensual pas de deux.

  Spinning in sharp turns, feet fitting together like parts of the same whole, Flynn turned Echo until she was lightheaded and giggling. She was an excellent dance partner who responded perfectly, never attempting to take the lead, but reading Flynn's moves as if they had danced together for a hundred years. For three minutes and twenty-three seconds, the world disappeared, and it was simply him and Echo dancing towards eternity. He wanted to make it special. This would either be the first or the last dance they would ever share.

  The music ended with a crescendo and a hearty round of applause broke out from the crowd.

  Flynn took Echo's hand and led her in a curtsy while he accepted the approval with a deep bow and swish of his cape.

  "Has anyone seen Doctor Cuervo?” Flynn quipped, “Because I think I need an emergency transfusion!” With his signal, the party was back into full swing.

  Flynn kept Echo by his side throughout the night, introducing her and showing her off like a shiny new sports car. Echo adored it. She felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

  Too soon, the party wound down and they waved goodbye to the final departing guests.

  Flynn leaned his back against the door, looking a little drunk and a lot handsome. Echo swallowed him up with her eyes. His disobedient hair was slicked back. Echo could see his muscles rippling under his tightly fitted shirt. The Dracula cape was still draped over his broad shoulders making them look even more expansive. She loved this man. Without a doubt, she loved this man.

  The Choosing

  "Well, mo chuisla, that was grand, wasn't it?"

  Echo smiled sweetly, “Yes. Oh yes, it was grand!"

  Flynn dropped his head and sighed deeply. “I have something to tell you. And I think that you had better sit down.” He motioned to a chair in the parlor.

  This sounded serious. Another surprise. The possibilities swept through Echo's mind. What fresh hell was this? Was he married? Did he have a family back in Ireland? Had he changed his mind about taking her home with him?

  Echo removed her mask so that she might see him better and lowered herself into the chair. Flynn paced nervously, his fingers combing through his hair.

  "There is quite a bit that you don't know about me. It was unfair of me not to tell you certain things, but I had to know that you were truly committed to me ... committed to us as a couple."

  The trepidation that had coagulated thickly in her chest loosened, allowing Echo to exhale the air she had been holding in her lungs. His words dispelled the notion that he was married and it didn't sound as if he had changed his mind. Still, it must be a whopper of a secret. Echo had never seen Flynn this uptight. He was always so direct and now he was struggling to find the right words.

  "I need to reveal something to you, something that may frighten you. It terrifies me to tell you because I may lose you all over again.” Flynn turned his back, gazing out into night through the window. His face, reflected in the glassy surface, was pinched with worry. “I am not quite what I seem.” He haltingly proceeded. “How should I put this?"

  Echo's analytical mind furiously tried to piece together what he might be leading up to. What did she know about him, really? She never saw him go to work, in fact, he never spoke of work. He lived a moderately opulent lifestyle, despite the fact that he seemed to have no visible means of support. Was he in the witness protection program or something equally sinister? Echo's stomach knotted into a fist.

  Flynn continued to stare out into the night.

  "I am a bit more than meets the eye. I am not sure what your beliefs are about the supernatural ... about beings that aren't quite human..."

>   What did he just say? Beings that aren't quite human? Did he think he was some supernatural being?

  Flynn did have an uncanny way of knowing things about her, things he couldn't have known. He had appeared in her life like a phantom and every time she saw him, he had nearly always taken her by surprise. Echo reflected on the first time they met and the immediate impact he had had on her. From the first moment she had felt as if she were under a spell.

  Then there were his eyes that glowed and hypnotized like heavenly bodies behind his pitch-black lashes. And the voice—the one that had haunted her and foretold the very words that Flynn would speak ... an eerie chill slid down her spine.

  "Flynn, “she interrupted, “are you trying to tell me that you are a ... a creature ... like a vampire or something?"

  Flynn turned from the window, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “A vampire? What makes you think I am a vampire?"

  "Well, the costume, for one.” Echo pointed a gloved finger at his cape. “And ... other things—the mysterious way you have of coming and going...

  "Heavens no, lass,” Flynn protested. “I'm most certainly not a vampire. I just thought it would be good fun to dress like one!"

  Echo rolled her eyes in relief, exhaling a long sigh. “But I am not entirely human either.” Echo shifted nervously in the chair. Could this be a game he was playing or was he deranged?

  "Let me try to explain and be out with it. I realize that what I am going to tell you will sound astonishing and beyond reason, but try to keep an open mind. Many things are beyond reason and are still true nonetheless ... your clairaudience for instance."

  He was right about that. Echo knew with certainty there was a shadowy world beyond that which she could see—a world most people only speculated about. She had hidden her gift from the scoffing world, knowing that people doubted what they could not understand. But, she had lived with reminders of the reality of that hidden world nearly every day of her life. Her Granny had believed in many superstitious legends; Fey people, fairies, banshees and goblins. She had cooed Echo to sleep with tales from the old country where wondrous magical beings abounded in the forests and hillsides. Echo was no stranger to the unknown and unexplained.