William's Blood

by S S Bazinet

  William squinted back. “What are you talking about now?”

  “Hello! I’m back.”

  Annabel’s voice called out from the foyer, interrupting William’s thoughts. Just hearing her voice made his day seem brighter, especially when he contemplated a trip to Chicago. Being away from her was another reason to agree to the trip. The old saying, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” would be put to the test.

  Forty-Two

  AREL BREATHED A ragged sigh of relief as the Mustang pulled up to the curb at the airport pickup area. Carey was at the wheel, and he offered a broad smile when he parked the car and got out to help with the luggage. Arel was too rattled to smile back. If he thought his nerves were bad before he left London, he was wrong about how stressed and panicked he could feel. The plane ride alone nearly finished him off. Not only had William suffered after being forced into traveling, he’d relapsed into a terrible state, gritting his teeth, trying not to cry out. Arel tried to help, but his own body was in a useless state. Worry about William and Carol had muddied and tainted any miracle waters he might bestow. His heart, that place that held explosive, healing light, was shrouded over by an ominous, black cloud. He was sure some terrible fate awaited William and Carol. Of course, there was the possibility that his feelings of doom were a result of his negative imagination. When Carol was in labor with baby Ariel, he’d been despairing too.

  “Arel, what else can I do?” Carey asked after he’d stowed away their bags.

  “Help me into the car, young man,” William moaned out.

  “Yes, help William,” Arel said as he came back from his dark musings. His fingers were clutching at the handles on William’s wheelchair so tightly that he had to consciously focus in order to let go of them. At least the chair was one small blessing that helped with William. Arel had been able to procure one without too much problem. He’d also had help with their luggage. Carey was another blessing. He seemed very competent when it came to transferring William to the back seat of the car. After he fastened William’s seatbelt, he turned to Arel again. His eyes were bright and encouraging. They conveyed a hopeful message that was potent enough for Arel to find the strength to climb wearily into the front passenger seat. “We better take William home before going to the hospital,” Arel said to Carey once the car was in motion.

  “No, I said I’d help, and unlike some people, I keep my word,” William replied gruffly.

  Carey glanced back at him. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. I’m sorry you’re so ill.”

  “Arel has pronounced me well enough to travel. That’s good enough for me,” William groaned.

  “Please, Will, I couldn’t leave you in London. Now I’m taking you home.”

  William shook his head. “No, I’ll see this thing out. If my dream means anything, maybe I’m supposed to help.”

  Carey frowned as he weaved his way to a lane that was moving faster. “Arel, I have some bad news. Carol isn’t doing well.”

  Arel had been avoiding tapping into Carol’s energy field. He didn’t want to invade her privacy. But just a quick glimpse at the condition of her aura told him that his fears were grounded in reality.

  “And, of course, Michael hasn’t done a thing to help.” Arel blurted out the statement without thinking. His panicked state was triggering his anger. As always, Michael was an easy target. He’d become Arel’s substitute father, a figure with unlimited patience whose shoulders were broad enough to put up with Arel’s need to vent.

  Carey shot Arel another glance. “Michael’s been at the hospital the whole time. He’s doing all he can.”

  Arel narrowed his eyes into slits of fixated temper. “I just wish it didn’t always come down to me having to find a way out of every mess.”

  Carey looked over again. “I’m sorry—”

  “What good is it to be sorry?”

  William let out a gasp. “Stop being a bastard to your friend, Arel. This situation isn’t his fault.”

  Arel knew William was right. He was taking his anger out on Carey too. He rubbed at his face, hoping to clear away some of the fear, but his gut was telling him to prepare for the worst. “Sorry, Carey, I’m really beyond rational it this point. Carol’s been in a very tough place recently. With this pregnancy and possibly losing the child, who knows how she’ll react.”

  “I get that,” Carey said. “But why are you angry at Michael?”

  “That’s an easy one,” William groaned again. “Arel is at war with anybody who threatens that little reality bunker he calls his life.”

  Arel tightened his jaw, trying to keep his tone in check. “I want the people I care about to be safe and happy. When one of them is in trouble I get upset.”

  “So you take your lousy attitude out on the rest of them?” William asked.

  “You’re one to talk. You don’t have any friends to care about.” As soon as he said it, Arel knew he was doing exactly what William said, striking out like a madman. The more he heard himself, the more he started to worry about his own mental state. “I didn’t mean that, Will. You’ve always tried to be there for me. As for my part, I am trying to help. Please believe that.”

  “I believe you, Arel,” Carey chimed in. “You saved me that night I had an accident, and I was a complete stranger.”

  “And now you’re his chauffer, right?” William asked.

  Carey beamed back a smile. “Arel’s been great. He took me to Hawaii.”

  William let out a barely audible laugh. “Lucky kid, I got a first class ticket to Hades.”

  Carey gave the rear view mirror a quick check. “I don’t understand.”

  William laid his head back and closed his eyes. “Pray that it stays that way, young man, or you could end up like me.”

  Arel clamped his jaws shut. What more could he say? William was right about everything he was telling Carey.

  Forty-Three

  THE LAST TIME Kevin sat by Carol’s hospital bed, he was smiling with pride. He’d been holding his newborn son and was awestruck by how perfect little Ariel was. When Carol got pregnant a second time, it was a surprise that quickly turned into an opportunity. Kevin took time off to make sure that Carol could rest. They continued to talk frequently, like they had in Paris. They began to dream again, to imagine how wonderful another child would be. Ariel would have a little brother or sister. All was going so well until earlier that day when Carol came out of the bathroom and announced that she thought she was losing the baby. Still, she fought so hard to hold on to the new life within her womb. When she failed, she cried just as hard, blaming herself for their loss.

  Kevin wanted to bawl too. As he clasped empty hands together, he knew he’d never get to cradle his second child. Not only that, he didn’t know how to help Carol. Earlier, when he looked at her, she stared back like she was totally lost in her sense of failure and grief. After all they’d gone through, trying to learn how to relate to each other, there was a new barrier between them, and Kevin didn’t know any way to scale it. If the wall between them was a physical obstacle, he could batter it down. But how could he batter down something as intangible as Carol’s sense of failure?

  “Hi, Kev,” Peggy said as she tiptoed into the room.

  Kevin returned a little wave. “Carol finally fell asleep,” he whispered.

  Peggy’s bright eyes dimmed when she looked at Carol, but she continued over to where Kevin was sitting. She put her arms around his shoulders. “Tim and I came as soon as we could. I got a neighbor’s daughter to babysit the kids for a little while.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate both of you trying to help out.”

  “Again, I’m so sorry.” Peggy’s usually animated voice was subdued and quiet.

  “I guess it wasn’t meant to be, but how can I get Carol to believe that?”

  “It’s tough, I know.”

  “Why does it have to be this way? Why does Carol have to do this to herself?”

  “I don’t have any answers, Kevin. I wish I did, but I do ha
ve a surprise. Arel is here. He’s in the waiting room.”

  “Arel? I thought he was in London.”

  “He flew back as soon as he heard the news.”

  “That was nice of him.”

  “He wanted so much to help. He was deeply saddened by the news.”

  “Kevin?” Carol’s eyes fluttered open, immediately searching Kevin out and targeting him with a helpless stare. “I was afraid you left.”

  “Of course not. I’m here for you,” he said. He quickly stood up and took Carol’s hand. “Do you need anything?”

  “No, it’s just I can’t really sleep very well when I think about—”

  “Honey, please,” Kevin pleaded. “Try to rest.”

  Peggy moved to Carol’s other side and kissed her cheek. “Kevin’s right, but when you’re feeling up to it, Arel wants to see you.”

  “Arel? He’s here?” Carol asked.

  Kevin smiled at her. “He came back as soon as he heard you were in the hospital.”

  “Really?” Carol’s eyes brightened a little.

  “You know how much he cares about you,” Kevin added.

  Carol sniffled and pulled his hand closer. “He cares about both of us.”

  Kevin smoothed back a lock of Carol’s blond hair. “There’s no rush, but when you’re ready—”

  Carol frowned. “I had the strangest dream a night or two ago. I want to ask him about it.”

  “A dream?” Peggy asked.

  Carol sniffled again. “Yes, I dreamed about Arel’s friend.”

  Peggy’s brows arched. “You’re kidding. Arel brought the guy back with him.”

  Carol let out a little gasp. “He’s here too? I want to see them both.”

  Kevin remembered Arel’s friend from New York. The man was okay, but there was something strange about him that Kevin didn’t quite trust. On the other hand, Arel was extremely protective. He would never do anything to hurt any of them. “Are you sure, Carol? Are you up to seeing them now?”

  The little spark faded from Carol’s eyes. “What’s there to lose at this point? I’ve already lost everything.”

  “Honey, please,” Kevin pleaded. “You haven’t lost Ariel or me.”

  Carol bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I know you’re right, but—”

  “It’s going to take time, okay?” Kevin said. “But if you want to see Arel, I’ll go get him.” Arel had been the one person who seemed able to get them through challenging times in the past. Kevin hoped that Arel could find a way again. He started to let go of Carol’s hand.

  Carol hung on to him. “No, stay here.”

  “Of course, I will.” He looked at Peggy. “Would you go get them, sis?”

  * * * * *

  William sat in the waiting room, cursing the fact that he’d agreed to come. The trip had taken a horrible toll on his body. It was begging for relief from the constant pain in his gut and the pounding in his head. Arel seemed to understand and tried to help, but his energy was so low, he was totally ineffective. Happily the waiting room was empty except for their party. William had been introduced to Tim, a tall, robust guy whose shoulders were wide enough to hold up a small building. Now Tim had the job of talking to Arel, trying to help him to relax.

  Good luck with that one, you poor soul.

  Michael and young Carey were sitting quietly on the other side of the room. Both were reading. Carey’s young enthusiasm was barely contained as his grey blue eyes scoured the page of a travel magazine. Michael was the solid, mature one. He had stayed in the background while he was at William’s London home, rarely coming anywhere near. He seemed to have the same attitude now, except for isolated moments when he’d glance up at Arel with a sparkling look of concern.

  Arel says he’s an angel. Maybe so.

  At this point, Arel’s Madness had taken hold so completely, William believed about anything. As soon as he had the thought, Michael’s eyes lifted. As William stared back, Michael’s mesmerizing gaze held the moment suspended long enough to ease some of William’s pain. He also experienced a strange feeling that his mind was being disengaged, that he might lose what little control he had left.

  The hell with that!

  As soon as he looked away, the connection was broken and the pain flooded back. It was a price William was prepared to pay. What was left if one’s mind was lost? As he shifted his weight, trying to find some small comfort, the red haired woman named Peggy came back. She went directly to Arel and grabbed his arm. Arel winced, tightening his jaw as he struggled to appear composed.

  He’s wound up tighter than a Christmas clock.

  After a short bit of whispered conversation between Peggy and Arel, both of them looked at William.

  Oh hell, it’s show time.

  The thought of having to see the unhappy woman from his dream, combined with a sudden stabbing pain were too much. William’s mind blanked out as another vision took over. This time he wasn’t in Greece or Rome. He was a little boy again, but not Arel’s twin. In this life, he was dressed in rags, and he stood in the middle of a mob scene. A little girl, sobbing uncontrollably, was next to him. Her dirty face was streaked with tears as he tried to console her, but they both shook with fear and anguish. Misery hung in the air, punishing both of them with a sense of hopelessness as they clung to each other.

  All is lost!

  The words were still echoing in William’s mind when Arel shook his shoulder. He jerked upright and stared at the waiting room. “Where am I?” he mumbled. He tried to orientate himself, but his mind was slipping back and forth between two worlds. He couldn’t keep the waiting room in focus. He kept seeing the angry mob, hearing their vicious shouts and slurs. He kept seeing the little girl’s desolate face as he tried to escape the pain in his gut. Her sadness intensified the grief that the little boy felt. The children were in some hellish situation. It was so intense that it drew William in, grabbing hold of his psyche with dark, malicious tentacles. He tried to stay focused on his present reality, but the mob and the darkness became a consuming force that overrode his rational abilities. The pain in his gut exploded and became so excruciating that it threatened to overwhelm everything he knew himself to be. In the middle of his ordeal, Arel was trying to get through to him.

  “William, what’s going on?” Arel asked.

  William looked up at Arel with eyes that belonged to the ragged, pathetic boy in the other world. They were pleading, fluid orbs, filled with the knowledge that the man in front of him was a traitor, an evil agent who was responsible for the torture that was waiting for him.

  Arel stared back with an acute concern. “William, talk to me!”

  Arel’s demanding tone was enough to bring William back to the waiting room for the briefest moment. “I hate you!” he blurted out. The statement couldn’t be contained any more than the rage that burned in William’s gut. His trip into the past had given him a clear understanding of who Arel really was and what he’d done to the little girl and boy. He tried to stand, to confront the person who destroyed both of them. “Hell is too good for you!” he cried out as his legs buckled and he began to fall.

  Arel reached out to help, but William’s journey back into a past life happened too fast. The world exploded in flames. Fire surrounded him. He couldn’t escape the flames or the smiling demons who watched him suffer.

  Forty-Four

  ROLPHE HAD BARELY arrived in London when he decided to return home. His targets, William and his friend, must have taken a trip of their own. He knew it as soon as he set foot on English soil and tried to tune into their energy. When he returned to his flat in Paris, he closed the door on the episode with disappointment and relief. Killing was a job, and a tiresome one at that.

  I’ll give it some time and try again later.

  In the meantime, he’d go back to doing something he loved, painting. He’d indulged in applying color to canvas for years. His expressions were varied and included many styles. The hall leading into his studio was a small gallery of his
efforts. He paused in front of his wife’s portrait and touched the raised layers of soft pinks and beiges. The Mona Lisa had been an influence, but he turned to cubism for his actual presentation. The background included a garden, something she loved. He’d broken up her smile into triangular sections, one being markedly lower than the other.

  “We live in two different worlds, you in the heavens and me down below. Even if I die someday, there’ll be no beautiful gardens for me, not after all the sins I’ve committed.”

  The next painting, another of his children, had a Titian softness. There was no room for the angular when it came to his boys. “My little angels,” he said as he stopped for a moment to kiss their faces.

  The third work of art on the wide corridor was a modern piece. An all-black background displayed only minimal color and expressed exactly how he had viewed his beloved cat, Satan. A small, faded Cheshire smile and two large, soulful eyes looked out from the canvas. He sighed as he realized how much he missed the big tom. “You and I understood each other.” They both had their battles. They were both soldiers of sorts. “But in the end, we wanted to come home to a warm fire.”

  He reached down and picked up Dantela, holding her close, enjoying the loud purr she made. She was always on his heels, following him from room to room. “You’re not as aloof as your father, are you?”

  When he reached the studio, he deposited the kitten in a wicker basket. It was something new he’d picked up just for her. Satan never bothered with the studio, but Dantela was different. She insisted on always being next to him. A soft, plush cushion made the basket a perfect cat bed. He figured it would keep her content while he worked. He was wrong. He was about to sit down at his easel, when she meowed in protest and jumped out of the new accommodation.

  “You wicked little pest,” he hissed as she came over and stared up at him. He bent over and scooped her up. He held her high over his head. “What now?” Some kittens would have been afraid of such an elevated position, but Dantela seemed to think that he was paying her the due that she deserved. Her clear, blue eyes closed and opened in her usual relaxed way. “Yes, I am extraordinary,” she was telling him. When she finally meowed, it meant, “Now hold me close. Pet me and adore me.”