William's Blood

by S S Bazinet

  Annabel frowned. “So this is all about you?”

  He gave her a playful smile before he could stop himself. “Alright, we’ve both had a breakthrough.”

  She hesitated for only a moment and then smiled too. “You’re right. Let’s celebrate tonight, say around eight. I’ll wear something nice, and we can go out.”

  “Maybe,” he said as he watched her walk to the stairs.

  She paused and frowned again. “That’s not an answer.”

  “Fine, come back around eight.”

  * * * * *

  When William answered the door that evening, he wore what he’d had on earlier in the day, designer slacks and a charcoal, Burberry shirt. He was prepared to tell Annabel that he’d changed his mind. He didn’t want to go out. So what if he had an ability to affect the growth of plants. It didn’t really change anything. There was nothing to celebrate. But when the door swung open, Annabel surprised him before he had a chance to speak. She hadn’t dressed up either. She had on her everyday coat and jeans.

  “Sorry, William,” she apologized as she let herself into the foyer. “When I got home, I realized I don’t have anything really nice.” She unbuttoned her coat and handed it to him. “Except for this top.”

  She wore a soft, emerald green, cashmere sweater. Its cowl neckline draped beautifully over her shoulders and generous breasts. The rich, vibrant shade picked up the amazing color of her eyes.

  William stared back mutely, taking her in.

  “Windy out tonight,” she explained as she took off her scarf and gave it to him.

  Like the Annabel he’d seen in the dream, she wore her hair pulled back. A slender section of her thick, auburn locks was gathered at each temple and bound in a braid. It rested on silky, reddish curls that cascaded down her back. The style exposed her face with its delicate, perfect features, satiny white skin, and lovely rosy lips. When she gazed up at him, he realized that recently, he hadn’t allowed himself to think about how stunningly gorgeous she was.

  He gestured her towards the living room. “Come in,” he whispered. His hoarseness was worse than before. “Excuse the way I sound. Singing might have helped the plants, but it’s been hell on my voice.”

  “Well, I’m sure that your plants are grateful,” she said as she walked into the living room. She turned around and gave him a pleased look. “You have a fire going, how wonderful. It makes this room so cozy.”

  “It can be functional. This room doesn’t get as warm as the rest of the house.” In spite of the fact that they saw each other almost daily, he felt awkward as he showed her to a chair close to the fireplace. Finding Annabel to be so beautiful again was upsetting the strides he’d made in distancing himself from her. “As you can see, I’m not dressed to go out either. Perhaps we could celebrate here.”

  She held her hands out to the fire. “I’d like that.”

  “Are you cold?” He walked over to her, hesitated, and took her hands in his own. They were small and slender. Yet he could feel her strength. It radiated out from her, telling him that she could nurture him too, just like she nurtured everything that came into her world. At the same time, there wasn’t an ounce of neediness in her bones. For the first time in William’s adult life, the tables were turned. He was the needy one. When he looked at her, it wasn’t just her beauty that captivated him, it was the glow of confidence that she put off. She never backed down from anything. She met all obstacles head on. He’d once felt like that. Now, it was as if she’d been sent to help him find that part of himself again. An image slipped in. He saw them in bed together. As they lay close, Annabel would sing to him. Like the dying plants, she’d coax him back to life, to the glorious place where he could find his power and prowess again.

  His hands gripped hers more firmly as a surge of lust issued from his loins. But it was more than sensuality that took over. He saw himself making love to her, adoring her, gently caressing every inch of her body. The vision was so vivid in detail, so all consuming, he let out a gasp.

  “William? Are you alright?” she asked quietly.

  He let go of her instantly, knowing that he was crossing some line that shouldn’t be crossed. “Excuse me. You’re cold. I’ll turn up the heat.”

  He walked quickly from the living area and went straight to the bathroom. He shut the door behind him as his hunger and what felt like the beginning of love, joined forces. But when he looked in the mirror, he was surprised that neither lust nor love was present in his image. Behind his eyes, there was a dark, brutal side of him scowling out.

  What the hell are you playing at? You’re doing it again. You’re letting yourself care about someone. How did that work out with Arel? Didn’t he end up robbing you of everything?

  The questions originated in the dark, shadowy recesses of his gut. It was the place where the cold, uncaring part of him, a true monster, lived. This monster was filled with all his hatred and disgust for those who were self-serving, the masses of humanity that he despised. This side of him was growing in power, and it didn’t suffer from hoarseness. Its voice was strong and insistent. Again, he felt how it connected him to the past, to a time when he was young and filled with uncontained rage at people like his father. He should have listened to it instead of getting mixed up with Arel.

  He glared back at the mirror. “But Annabel isn’t like Arel. She isn’t selfish—”

  Listen to yourself! She’s got you defending her. But I’m the one who’s saved you, the one who made you strong and uncaring so you could survive this heinous planet. Now you’re taking her side against me.

  Was it true? Was he losing himself to Annabel?

  Memories flooded in before he could stop them. When he was a boy in the hunting fields, he heard his fox screaming in pain as the hounds tore it limb from limb. He’d fallen to his knees sobbing, feeling totally weak and powerless in that moment. That’s when he’d promised himself that he’d never feel that deeply again. Caring about something or someone gave others power. Even with Arel, he’d never fully exposed his heart. Yet when he thought about Annabel, he felt a deep yearning to do just that. The idea terrified him. “No, I’m in control!”

  The husky voice began to laugh.

  Sure you are. That’s why Arel could snatch you from heaven’s gate. Next, Annabel will snatch away your life here in this world. You’ll be some sniveling love lost boy again.

  William shut his eyes, trying desperately to find some clarity. But his first thought was about Arel refusing to listen to him, betraying him over and over. What would Annabel end up demanding from him? Sure she seemed perfect now, but that was what love did. When it took hold of a person, that person only saw what they wanted to see.

  He clenched his fists. “I’ll send her away, permanently. I can do it, I promise.”

  Why are you pleading with me? You and I are the same. Why are you so scared? Could it be that you’re lying to yourself?

  He opened his eyes and looked in the mirror again. For a brief moment, he saw the innocent child he’d once been. Did he want to go back to being that boy? Did he want his heart ripped out again?

  He knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t ever be that vulnerable again as all the pain he’d suffered resurrected itself, punishing him, reminding him of the agony he’d endured when he was naïve about life.

  Prove that you are in control, that you can take back what little you have left of your life. Annabel is a test! Destroy her and destroy what she represents.

  It was such a dark thought and yet, hadn’t William found it easy to kill people in the past? He was planning, with Rolphe’s help, to kill Arel. So why was Annabel any different?

  The answer came through loud and clear.

  The only difference with her is that she represents what’s weak and wanting in you! Now stop stalling and get rid of her!

  The order made William’s knees go so weak that he had to hang on to the sink. Yet he couldn’t fight what was stirring within him. It started to take on a life of its own.
Fashioned from all his fear and rage, it began to move, twisting and turning in his bowels like a viper coiling itself into a striking pose, needing to use its venom to destroy Annabel.

  In an airless bog of cold indifference, it took over his body and directed its actions. He could barely breathe as his hand opened one of the vanity drawers. A switchblade was hidden there. He slowly retrieved it from its secreted place.

  As he moved towards the door, a flash of Annabel’s blameless face made him pause. He almost called out to her, to warn her off, but his voice was hoarse and wanting as the wrathful, black viper rose up within and squeezed the air from his lungs.

  Throwing open the door, he couldn’t stop the determined forward movement of his legs as they stumbled out into the hall and made their way to the living room. When he saw Annabel, so pretty and unaware, sitting calmly on the rug by the fireplace, he felt like he was split in two. There was the butcher who enjoyed the power to exterminate at will, who would never bow to anything or anybody. There was also the man that William was becoming, who was learning to sing again, who recognized that there might be room for one other person in his life. That part of him wasn’t nice or even civil towards most of his fellow men, but it did have a very definite desire to protect Annabel.

  But regardless of that part, his hand clutched the knife as he came towards her. It was being dictated to by the murderer who knew only one way to express itself. It needed to kill whatever got in its way. And it wouldn’t stop until it eradicated the woman who tempted William with her beauty and her beguiling ways.

  Too late, Annabel turned to look up at William. With the knife held high to stab her with a killing force, he stood over her.

  “William!” she called out. “My William.”

  As if she didn’t see the knife, there was no fear in her voice. When she said his name, she made it sound like a holy word. She filled it with dignity and its true meaning, resolute protector.

  As the butcher in him brought the knife down with a horrible vengeance, the man named William became her shield. He guided the blade away from Annabel and into his own body. He plunged it into his gut, targeting the beast that killed without remorse.

  The weapon went deep and found its mark. It pierced the monstrous creature, wounding it mortally. And even though William could only gasp in pain as his body felt the weapon enter, the beast let out a bellowing sound of rage that reverberated in his physical vessel, sending out shock waves of fury and obsession. Blackness poured out of his bowels as it thrashed about in a frenzy of surprise and madness, fighting for life and knowing that it was doomed.

  William didn’t think he could survive the pain as it ripped through his body, punishing him with talons of hate and revenge. He felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out. Only the sight of Annabel helped him to hold on to life, a moment at a time.

  William pulled the blade from his body and flung it away from Annabel before he allowed himself to collapse. He landed with a heavy thud, face down on the floor, holding his wound and feeling his life blood pouring from his body. But when he turned his head, he saw Annabel kneel down beside him. For a brief instant, he knew he’d done something right in his life. Her face was as exquisite as an angel’s countenance. No prettier or kinder person would ever walk the earth. The insane act of stabbing himself was balanced by a clear understanding that he had preserved something wondrous and unique when he had saved Annabel from the beast.

  But he couldn’t save himself from the torment that raged inside of him. He could only grit his teeth, trying not to cry out. Annabel turned him on his back and put her hand over his. Her eyes were bright with concern as she tried to give him the courage to hang on. Both their hands were soon covered in blood. It joined them in a strange marriage of brief love as he fought the pain inside and tried to stay with the one person who gave him a reason to live.

  There were tears in Annabel’s eyes. They ran freely down her cheeks, sprinkling him with their wetness as she bent over him. He had enough strength to reach up and pull her close enough to kiss her. Her lips were warm and a sharp contrast to the cold chill of death coursing through his veins. For an instant, he thought he might have felt her kiss him back. No matter, it was clear that she truly cared for him.

  I love you.

  The soundless words issued from his heart as her face and the world slipped away from him.

  Twenty-Eight

  AREL WOKE UP fighting the covers, fighting the hot daggers of pain that stabbed his gut. He knew without a doubt that William was dying.

  This isn’t my pain, it’s his. I’m going to lose my brother after all!

  As he thrashed around in his bed, he saw William’s pale, blue eyes. They were filled with compassion and kindness, just like the time he tried to save Arel from suicide.

  In the end, I betrayed William for his kindness.

  The thought was worse than the physical pain. It stabbed his heart and tore it in two.

  “You can’t think about that now.”

  It was Michael’s voice. When Arel opened his eyes, Michael was standing over him.

  “William tried to kill himself,” he gasped.

  Michael shook his head. “No, he tried to save Annabel.”

  “I don’t understand—”

  “I’ll explain later, but first, you have to let me help you. Taking on William’s suffering isn’t what’s needed.”

  “I’m afraid to break my connection to him. If I don’t hold on, I think he’ll die, and this time I know I won’t be able to stop it from happening.”

  “Hold on to the part of him that saved Annabel, not his pain. Otherwise, you’re right about him dying.”

  “But I have to find a way to help him!”

  “Then let go of your guilt and shift your focus.”

  “How can I possibly do that when I know that William should be in some heavenly paradise, not in the hell he’s in now!”

  “Do you want William to survive?”

  “Yes, of course I do.”

  “Then find a way out of your own torment.”

  The concept made sense. If William was drowning, Arel wouldn’t be able to help if he was drowning too. “What do you suggest?”

  “Try to think about something other than the pain. Think about anything that might make you feel better,” Michael instructed.

  Arel remembered what Carol had said to him. She believed that Arel and William would be friends again. That possibility buoyed him up enough to change his focus. He was able to take slow breaths and calm his body a little. He even smiled at the thought of seeing William happy and well again. As the pain in his gut began to subside, he held out his hand to Michael. “Help me up, please. If I’m going to be there for William, I have to get moving. Every minute counts.”

  “What are you planning to do?”

  “I’m going to London.”

  Michael gave him a questioning look. “But William is in a critical state. He’s also dealing with a lot of emotional turmoil. Seeing you might not be the best idea.”

  Arel used Michael’s arm to steady himself as he stood up. “I helped heal his body after that car hit him. I can help him now. I’m sure of it.” He paused and glanced up at Michael. “But I’ll need you there too. Please, Michael, fly to London with me.”

  Twenty-Nine

  WILLIAM LAY IN his bed, filled with such agony that even Annabel’s presence couldn’t distract him from his misery. It wasn’t only the knife wound that caused his wretchedness. The beast within had inflicted psychic tears, leaving him in shreds. A black cauldron of hate, housed in his gut, had created the monster in the first place. Now that kettle was bubbling with rage and distrust of everything in life, even William himself. Its contents boiled over, spewing acid on his wounds, searing him and keeping him in constant torment.

  He barely registered the sound of the front door bell ringing as he slid in and out of consciousness. When he opened his eyes, he saw a glowing form in front of him. The light was painfu
l too. He quickly closed his lids again and moaned.

  “William, it’s me.”

  In spite of the pain, William froze with fresh panic. He was sure that he knew the voice that uttered his name. He prayed that he was delusional. But his lips were soon stilled when the voice came again.

  “William, it’s me, Arel.”

  This time the words were whispered, but it didn’t help. Their message was as loud and as punishing as a church bell tolling at his funeral. As his head pounded, he moaned again. “I didn’t think it could get any worse.”

  Arel moaned too as he pressed closer. “I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me. I know I was wrong to do what I did. I’ll do anything to make up for my mistakes.”

  William opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the light. “Oh hell, it is you.”

  “Michael’s here too. He’s in the other room. We can both help.”

  William was barely able to register Arel’s ramblings much less try to resist him. He didn’t have any strength left to fight. “Why? Why me?” His questions were aimed at the heavens, but he knew the gates to the kingdom were closed to him now. When the beast in him was allowed to roam again, they were slammed shut against him. He turned his head enough to gaze at Arel whose golden eyes were bright with his repentance. But there was no forgiveness left in him, only Arel’s latest betrayal. It added new fuel to the fire in his gut. He bit his lip, trying not to cry out as the pain struck with a new and horrible vengeance. “Get out,” he finally managed.

  “I can’t.”

  Annabel came in as Arel argued back. “Maybe you should let William rest.”

  William held out his hand to her. Like the rest of his body, it was trembling. “Yes, make him go.”

  Before she could retrieve William’s hand, Arel grabbed Annabel’s shoulders and held her tight.

  “Annabel, I know you want what’s best for William, but just give me a chance. Don’t send me away. William is dying. Let me try to save him. You want him to live, don’t you?”