Authors: Devin Morgan
He winced as he wiggled first one then another. “Yeah, I don’t think it’s broken although
I can’t say the same thing about Manu’s nose.” He smiled through the bruises that
were beginning to appear
on his face.
“Carlos, this is it. Enough. It’s time we told someone about this. I don’t want you
to be hurt anymore.”
“This is nothing. Don’t worry.” She cleaned his split knuckles then wrapped a second
package of frozen peas in a towel and bound it to his hand. “That feels kind a good.”
He laid his head back on the cushion.
“Why don’t you just stay here tonight?” She reached to help him stand. “You can sleep
in the guest room.”
“No.” He raised his hand to stop her. ”I’d like to stay, but I’ll just crash out here
on the couch.” There was gratitude in his words. “Would you mind? Just throw a blanket
over me and I’ll be out in a minute. I’m feeling kind a dead right now.”
She picked up the throw from the arm of the sofa. She covered him then took the towel
wrapped peas. “Okay, just sleep right now. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” Turning
off the light, she looked at him one last time. She went into her bedroom shutting
the door behind her. She drifted to sleep, her last thoughts confused and a bit frightened.
#
She felt the dreamtime weightlessness so she knew she was in a sleep-induced fantasy.
The musicians played a lively tune as the courtiers prepared to dance. They faced
one another creating two long ribbons made of the lush colored satins and silks they
wore. Their jewels sparkled in the light of what seemed to be thousands of candles.
They were all so beautiful, dressed for the Royal Masque in the spring court of England.
They all wore disguises, false faces. Ornate and colorful, each courtier’s mask representing
a different animal or bird.
An owl face bedecked with pristine white feathers and a beak of burnished gold plate
sat above the strong body of a man dressed in finest white satin. The short cape slung
about his powerful shoulders
was made of cloth of gold and glimmered in the candlelight as he led his lady through
the steps of a lively galliard. His partner sported the face of a tricky red fox.
Her gown of russet silk shimmered as they danced; the deep rust-colored velvet stomacher
was rich with embroidered golden wheat shafts. Her brown eyes shown as he lifted her
high, spinning in a tight slow circle.
Sarah stood, waiting as the musicians changed the tempo to a slow pavane. A tall man
stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the dancers. His rich velvet clothing
was colored in shades of gray, embellished richly with diamonds and silver. His hair
was black and wild. His human face hid behind the face of a savage wolf, its canines
exposed and sharp. Golden eyes peeked from the narrow slits on either side of the
nose.
He reached for her hand and led her in a courtly manner. Dance after dance, he kept
her with him. He whirled and spun her. Again and again, his strong arms lifted her
high until she was taller than he then gently lowered her until her feet touched the
floor once again. The bodice of her petal pink gown was laced so tightly she became
short of breath. Still, they continued. At last, when she was spent and out of breath
completely, he took her hand to lead her from the palace into the rose garden. The
fragrance of the sweet flowers filled the warm night air, their colors clearly visible
in the light of a full summer moon. His eyes were alive with anticipation. His arm
slid around her waist as he guided her into the green bowers of a lover’s maze. It
was familiar. She had been in this place before. They turned corner after corner,
disappearing deeper into the heart of the living puzzle.
The sound of splashing water reached their ears just as they entered an intimate,
sweet smelling rose garden. In the center loomed an enormous fountain. It dwarfed
the surrounding greenery and the spray bounced like tiny, living balls of light in
the brilliance of the moon. He untied his mask yet his face was still in shadow
and she could not see his features.
He grasped her waist to turn her toward him. His hands were familiar. She was sure
she had felt them before this night. Gently, he drew her to him. She went willingly,
joyfully. They came together and the touch of his lips thrilled her. He gathered her
into his arms and the kisses he trailed along her jaw were as soft as the wings of
a butterfly. He kissed her brows, her eyelids. His tongue brushed her eyelashes then
trailed to outline her small perfect ears. His scent enveloped her and she could no
longer catch her breath. Her heart embraced the sweet madness of the moment. He kissed
her deeply. Her tongue toyed with the soft tuft of hair beneath his lower lip. He
moaned as she pressed herself into him. She could feel him, firm and sweet, through
the thick layers of her silk gown.
Her trembling fingers slid his doublet down over his sturdy shoulders then lifted
his exquisitely made cambric shirt over his head. Her breath caught as she gazed at
his sculpted, muscular body. He turned her away from him to loosen the tightly drawn
lacing that imprisoned her breasts within her stiff bodice. He removed it then turned
her to face him once more. He divested her of her kirtle and her puffed, padded sleeves.
She stood before him in nothing but her chemise and petticoats. Reaching for the ribbons
at the neck of her shift, he pulled them loose. Slowly, sensually, he slipped it over
her head to pile it in a froth of silk and lace at her feet. He peeled away her petticoats
and undergarments. Her nude form glowed like living marble in the brightness of the
moonlight.
He stripped his boots and hose. His perfect body glistened like the finest bronze
as he stood, ready to take her. He was a magnificent man. Arousal coursed through
her veins as he lifted her soft curves into the warm water of the fountain. He raised
his hand to gently touch her hair. He bent her head back and tenderly kissed the pulsing
vein in her throat, his breath warm against her burning skin. His hands caressed her
firm, full breasts. Her heart pounded
in her chest, desire flaming out of control deep within her secret place. She was
in torture. She was in bliss.
When she could bear her need no longer, she entwined her arms about his neck and lifted
herself to wrap her legs around his perfect middle. He leaned over her cradling her
in his own chiseled arms, sheltering her from the inquisitive eyes of the man in the
moon. She wanted to weep, to cry out in uninhibited abandon as he swept her away on
waves of endless bliss. The water swirled about them and when they were spent, he
held her close, thigh to thigh and heart to loving heart as he softly whispered an
ancient poem of love.
The bird song alarm next to Sarah’s bed told her it was morning in real time. She
slowly opened her eyes then reached to turn it off. She sighed as she drew her knees
close to her stomach and wrapped her arms around herself in a hug. Her dreams had
never been more lucid, more real, more thrilling. She wished she could go back to
sleep to see what might happen next but she knew she had a guest sleeping on her couch.
She wanted to make coffee and feed him breakfast before he left.
She splashed water on her face, brushed her teeth then her hair and put on some old
gray sweats and a thick soft cotton tee shirt before she went to wake Carlos.
When she walked into the living room, he had once again flown the coup leaving her
with an empty feeling inside and a sincere wish that he had waited to see her.
#
It had been two weeks since Carlos showed up on her doorstep battered and beaten.
In their last session she tried to talk sense into him but he refused to turn to anyone
for help. It escalated into an argument. He had stormed from her office. It was Friday
again and she wondered if he would even show up. She called the half-way house every
day leaving messages for him, but he never answered
her calls and his voice mail on his cell phone was full.
She paced the floor and vowed she wouldn’t mention the gang again. As his therapist
she was bound to silence unless he was willing. She didn’t want to push him away with
any demands to bring police into it.
Her phone buzzed. Maggie’s voice was almost a whisper. “He’s here. Should I send him
in?”
“Yes.” She sat behind the desk, waiting impatiently. The door opened and a bouquet
of flowers appeared before she saw his face. He grinned as he walked into the room.
“Peace?”
“Peace.” She smiled, stood and crossed the room to give him a welcoming hug. His eye
was almost healed and there was only a small scab on his forehead. His hand was still
bandaged, but he was able to use it as he placed the flowers on her desk.
“Sorry about my temper. You’re the last person in the world I should get mad at. I
know you’re trying to help me.” He glanced at the rug then back at her. “Maybe I need
a few more anger management suggestions while I’m in hypno, right?”
She sighed, “Right.” Keeping her promise to herself not to bring up Manu, she took
his arm to guide him to the recliner. “So I guess we might as well get started.”
“Yeah.” Lying down, he closed his eyes. “Let’s get started.”
She settled into her chair and began the induction to take him into hypnosis.
#
CARLOS HAVARRO, transcript, Session 14, June 11
It was late when she summoned me to her rooms. Smeaton, her lute player, sat in a
far corner playing a sweet tune for a few of the ladies who lingered.
“Come with me.” She led me to an alcove where our conversation would be private.
“Aris, you served me well in the matter of my brother. Are you ready now for a more
dangerous intrigue?” She spoke softly and her black eyes danced malevolently.
“I do not fear danger, my lady.”
“Good man.” Then in a whisper, “How do you feel then, about murder, Aris?”
“Murder, my lady?”
“Yes. Murder of an old, degenerate despicable dog.”
“Of which dog do you speak?”
She moved closer to me. I had to watch her mouth as she spoke; her words were too
soft for even my vampire hearing.
“The King’s banished dog, Wolsey.”
“I am your man.” I was unable to believe her request. I had fought my desire to murder
the cardinal from the moment I found he sent Elizabeth to her death. When the King
banished him to the north, I even began the trip to York to do away with the cad.
My friends in the Catacombs reminded me of the vampire law about killing humans and
my mortal friend, Thomas Wyatt, stayed my hand and kept me at court.
Yet here was the answer to my deepest desire requested of me from the second most
important person in the court, second only to the King. I took it as an omen. A blessing.
I would rid the Kingdom of the stench of Wolsey. And I would do it as a vampire, no
human poison for him. Venom and hate would be the implement of his death.
When I set out, the road to York was wet and muddy. The thick, gray fog hung heavy
all around me and I walked my horse so it wouldn’t tire too quickly. I hoped to find
an inn soon to get out of the damp, miserable weather and I was beginning to feel
hunger. London was the last place I fed.
Suddenly there was a clearing in the mist. A thatched building rose next to the road.
‘The King’s Hart.’ That sounded as good as any and at least I knew it would be dry.
I rode to the stable behind the inn where there was a dirty little child acting as
stable boy. His hands were raw
with chilblains and his nose was running. He had no shoes and his feet were wrapped
in rags. He shivered in the cold yet he smiled at me, the well-dressed visitor.
“Here lad, take the reins.” The boy caught them as I let them loose. “Take care of
my animal and there will be a crown for you in the morning.”
The boy smiled a broken toothed smile at his luck. It was more money than he had ever
seen. “Thank ye, sir.” He led the huge animal inside the shelter as I turned to walk
toward the inn.
The large room was dingy and dirty but the fire in the hearth was warm as I found
a seat.
A great beast of a woman approached me. Her hands were filthy and her nails were broken,
black dirt encrusted beneath their ragged edges. “Small ale,” was all I said to her.
She grinned an evil grin as she saw the fat purse I brought out to pay her.
“Bill, what ye doin’ inside.” Her voice was loud and harsh as she turned from my table
and saw the small stable lad huddling by the fire. “Get out with the animals.”
“But ma’am, I’m so cold. And I’ve bedded all the horses.” He looked hungrily at the
pot of stew bubbling over the fire. “And I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I am so
hungry.” He held his small stomach as if it needed his hands on it to keep it inside
his body. “Please ma’am.”
“Get out!” She swung her huge leg toward him and kicked him in the shin so hard he
fell to the ground. She grabbed him and tossed him like a sack of sugar. He howled
as he bounced on the stone floor. He was limping as he hurried out the way he came.
“Woman.” I spoke, anger emanating from my very core.
“Sir,” She turned and her vacant, miserable gaze was now on me.
“Bring the lad inside. I will pay for his dinner.” She looked at me with evil pig
eyes as I demanded, “Do it now!”