Authors: Karina L. Fabian
Desperation overwhelmed him, so strong that he could barely tell his own feelings from hers.
“Get out of my mind!” He tried to throw up his shields, but they were ripped away.
“I AM THE MISCRIA! Do not leave me!”
“STOP!” With desperation of his own, he pushed himself away from her.
He awoke bolt upright in the hospital bed, his scream still resonating off the plain walls. His sore body protested the sudden movement with a pain that made him gasp. For a moment, he welcomed it. It was his, not some projection of another’s. Not Tasmae’s.
Tasmae! Had she followed him? Was she lurking in the shadows the way the demon’s had? His eyes searched the dark room.
Footsteps he’d barely registered ended at his door and the lights snapped on, making him blink.
“What is it, Ydrel? Did you have a nightmare?”
“Don’t call me that! My name is Deryl.” And, despite the pain it gave him, he leaned his forehead against his bent knees and burst into tears.
CHAPTER 31
Joshua returned to the hospital at six in the morning, ready to take another long shift as the world’s highest paid babysitter. He was already anticipating four o’clock when Edith said she’d have someone come relieve him and stay with Deryl until the client fell asleep. Sachiko had her final that afternoon, and had promised to come by right after to commiserate or celebrate. He’d told her that they’d be celebrating, and he wanted to go home and get his place in order.
This time, he’d brought his computer and small keyboard to the hospital with him; Rique had some changes to one of the songs they were going to audition with, and wanted Joshua to work the transitions. He had his headphones so he could work it whenever Ydrel slept.
He found out from the nurse that they’d given Ydrel a sedative around two that morning, so he had a couple of quiet hours to work until Kate showed up to visit.
“Douglas is taking the opportunity to meet with some of his clients,” she said, as she sat down beside her nephew and took his hand. “How is he?” she asked.
Joshua shrugged. “Guess he had a rough night, but nothing major.”
Ydrel stirred and opened his eyes with difficulty. “I’m OK,” he answered.
“Good morning, Darrel.”
“Deh-rill. D-E-R-Y-L. If I let everyone call me Deryl from now on, will you at least say it right?” He closed his eyes and was asleep again before she could answer.
Kate released his hand and pulled Joshua into the hallway. “What do you think?” she asked him.
Joshua thought the whole situation was stupid, but he replied, “I think he has the right to his own name.”
She sighed and looked away—accessing a memory, Joshua noted. “Our grandfather was named Darrel. Our father was always furious that my sister insisted on the unusual spelling. Said it just encouraged unusual behavior. So when Darrel came to us, we thought…”
“With all respect to your father, unusual spellings are pretty commonplace nowadays.”
“I know,” she said. “We’d just hoped…” They heard footsteps approach, and saw Douglas approach. Joshua went in to check Ydrel—Deryl, now—while Kate talked to her husband.
He found Deryl drowsy but again awake. “When’s breakfast?”
Joshua checked the clock. “Half an hour or so. How are you feeling?”
“Not so well. Groggy.” He lolled his head toward the door. “My aunt’s crying.”
“Good tears, I think. Do you remember what you said a couple of minutes ago?”
“I remember,” he replied neutrally, then said no more until his aunt and uncle entered the room.
“So…Deryl?” his uncle ventured, pronouncing it correctly. “D-E-R-Y-L?”
Deryl smiled and held out his hand to them.
Deryl didn’t volunteer why he’d decided to change his name, and his aunt and uncle seemed afraid to pursue it, so they spent an awkward half hour avoiding the subject until the nurse came in with Deryl’s breakfast. Douglas declared that Kate needed nourishment, too, and they left with a promise to return later that evening.
Joshua waited until Deryl had finished most of his meal and was picking at the crumbs. “So? What’s the story?”
“I’m not the Ydrel anymore. The Miscria—Tasmae—she’s gone.” He tossed down his fork, shoved the tray away, and told him about their meeting, and the argument, and how he had been overwhelmed by her thoughts and emotions.
“I couldn’t breathe. I could barely keep track of what was me. I couldn’t make her stop. So I ran. Back to here. To…
reality
. And I’ve got my shields up so tight that I feel kind of blind or deaf and I wouldn’t be able to sense her Call if she put the weight of her world behind it.” Ydrel—Deryl now—stared miserably away for a minute, then glared at Joshua. “Well?” he snapped. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me? I did it. I’ve rid myself of this Miscria illusion, cold turkey, left her high and dry. Aren’t you going to say you’re proud?”
Joshua pulled up a chair so he could look at the boy directly. “No, and I’m not going to make you feel guilty, either. You’ve been at her beck and call for five years now? You’ve answered all her questions to the best of your ability. Maybe she needs to be pushed out on her own, find her own answers.”
“She was so scared,” he whispered. Joshua could see his eyes tightly contracted. Accessing memories not his own.
“It’s scary on your own sometimes. Lonely, too. But sometimes, it’s the only way to grow.”
*
Joshua looked up from his keyboard and checked the clock on his living room wall. It was almost six. Sachiko should have finished with her final an hour ago. Why wasn’t she here yet? Why hadn’t she called?
The place was clean; the take-out he grabbed from a nearby restaurant waited in the oven; a small cake from the store sat on the counter. He’d showered, shaved, put on his best shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, and made a new CD of music. After this crazy week, he couldn’t wait for a couple of hours alone with her doing something other than studying.
Where is she?
He called her phone again, got no answer, then to distract himself, dialed the hospital and asked for Deryl’s room. He’d been feeling pretty bad all afternoon, and the doctor had diagnosed him with a post-op infection.
“He’s asleep,” Danika, the orderly assigned to watch him for the evening, answered. “Nodded off after he ate. He seems to be doing better.”
“K. Thanks for being there tonight.”
She laughed, “I’m getting paid overtime to sit around and read my novel. I didn’t have any plans tonight.”
He did—or at least he thought he did. He hung up and glared at the clock: 6:13. “C’mon, ‘Ko. At least call me.”
He had turned put the CD into the player when he heard the familiar growl of a motorcycle. He turned on the music, then bolted to the door and threw it open. “Well?” he shouted down to her.
If she heard him, she gave no sign; she grabbed her backpack and trooped up the stairs silently, her helmet still on and the sun visor blocking her face. Joshua backed up a pace to let her in, shutting the door behind her and waiting apprehensively as she stripped off her riding gear. When she pulled off her helmet, she was smiling radiantly.
“Ninety-eight!” she shouted and leaped into his arms. Joshua caught her, cheering. They smothered each other’s faces and necks with kisses, their words tumbling over each other’s:
“He graded them as we finished, so—”
“You did it!”
“He said my essay was the best he’d ever read—”
“I’m so proud of you!”
“He thought I should go into gynecology, what a joke—” She leaned her head back to laugh and he kissed her neck. Her skin was as silky as her hair.
“You’re incredible!”
“I’d never have passed without you.” She pulled away just enough to look at him, and the adoration and desire on her face did more to him than any of her kisses.
“Sachiko, I…I didn’t do much.”
“Yeah, right.” She kissed his mouth.
The kiss kept going longer and deeper until he was very aware of her body pressed against his, her legs around his waist, her weight totally supported by him, his hand on her—
They had to sit down. Fast.
Still holding her, still kissing, he backed up until he bumped against the bed. (
Couch, Joshua, Couch!)
He started to sit, but she pushed against him until he fell back with her over him, her tongue doing amazing things inside his mouth, her hands reaching under his shirt. On the CD player, Ricky Martin was singing, “Do you really want it?”
“Well?” she whispered.
He did. Oh, he did.
They had to stop.
He did not want to stop.
She shifted position in a way that set every nerve in his body screaming.
They had to stop!
“Sachiko!” He managed to twist his head away from her, push her back just a little. “’Ko, honey, please. I love you, and I really think it’s best if we don’t do this!”
“What?” She pulled back from him, her body taut, her voice cold.
Joshua, with his blood ringing in his ears and his body screaming its own protests, didn’t notice. “It’s just that I’ve let things go too far too fast before and it was a disaster and—”
“What did you say?” Her demand came out staccato, yet he still didn’t notice.
“I said we should stop, wait.”
“Before that!”
Slowly, he collected his wits. “I…I love you?”
Sachiko closed her eyes, her expression one of such pain, disappointment and even fear that it drove all thoughts of lust from Joshua’s mind. “What is it, honey?”
“Don’t call me that!” She pushed away from him and went to gather her things.
“Huh?” Joshua leapt off the bed—couch!—and reached for her.
She swung around, nearly hitting him with her helmet. “Look. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but those words have a very specific, very special meaning to me!”
Josh jumped back defensively. “Me, too!”
“Yeah, right.” She slammed the door behind her.
Joshua stood slack-jawed and blinking until he heard the Harley’s roar. He dashed out the door, calling her name, but she was gone. He went back in, slammed off the CD player, and threw himself on the couch, his mind a jumble. Ten minutes later, he reached across to grab the phone.
“Sachiko, honey? Listen, I—I have no idea what just happened. Please, please call me when you get home and explain this to me. I want to make this right. I—” He hung up before he could sound any more pathetic. Finally, he took a shower, dressed in more professional clothes, left another phone message for Sachiko, and headed to the hospital. Maybe Ydrel—Deryl, now, Deryl—could explain what he’d done wrong.
*
He walked into Deryl’s room to find Danika reading aloud from her historical romance while Deryl dozed. Joshua hesitated at the door, but Deryl opened his eyes.
“I’m awake. Hey, Danika, I’ll bet Josh can watch me while you go get something to eat.”
Danika gave Joshua a puzzled look, but set her bookmark in her book and got up.
“If you read that, you have to tell me what happens!” Deryl called after her. Once the door was shut, he raised his bed so he was sitting. “All right, what happened with you and Sachiko?”
Joshua flopped into a chair and told him a somewhat edited version of the story. Deryl didn’t look so well, and anyway, he didn’t need all the more…personal…details. When Josh finished, Deryl turned his head drowsily toward his friend, blinked owlishly, and started cussing.
“Hey!” Joshua snapped. “I came here for help, not to get chewed out.”
“Not you. Ma—her ex. Didn’t Sachiko tell you?”
“I know she’s had a bad experience. What about it?”
Deryl sighed in exasperation. “Don’t you two talk? Or do you just suck face whenever you’re alone?”
“Have you got anything useful to say?” Joshua replied stonily.
“Useful…useful…” Deryl’s focus faded. He shook his head. “You have to talk to her about him. About, all of it. Otherwise, things’ll get bad between you two.”
“Worse than now?” Joshua asked sarcastically, but Deryl turned to him, his voice urgent, his eyes contracted to mere pinpoints.
“Yes, worse! And she has to be there. It’s important she be there, or my baby might die, and Tasmae—and she won’t be, unless you are and you’re together and…and…” Suddenly, his eyes dilated back to normal, and his expression glazed. “What was the question again?”
For a moment, Joshua wasn’t so sure, himself. “What does Sachiko’s jerk of an ex have to do with her walking out on me?”
Deryl rolled his eyes in that familiar way that said Joshua was missing the obvious. “He’s a master manipulator. Everybody thinks he’s such a great guy. Even Sachiko. Did. Wrapped around his little finger. Stupid, evil, son of a—”
“So? What’s that got to do with me?”
Deryl sighed. “Guess what his favorite words were?”
“I don’t know. I—” Then he knew. He groaned.
Deryl spoke in a controlled, mature tone, a lot like Dr. Malachai’s most professional voice. “‘I love you, Sachiko dear, and I think it’s in our best interests if we—’ Funny how
we
always meant
she
.”
“But I
do
love her, and I
do
think it’s best we wait. How do I convince her I’m sincere?”
Deryl didn’t seem to be listening. “She took all the risks, made all the sacrifices. Gave him everything. She even…” He shut his eyes and was silent. Joshua watched him morosely for a few minutes, then sighed. He’d have to figure it out himself.
Deryl’s eyes snapped open suddenly. “What would you risk for her?”
Caught by surprise, Joshua answered, “Anything.”
“What would you sacrifice?”
“Short of my soul, everything.”
“Prove it.”
“How?” But Deryl’s eyes had shut again, and this time he snored slightly. A short while later, Danika returned, and Joshua left. He drove to Sachiko’s apartment to see if her bike was there—it wasn’t, so he headed home. How could convince her of anything if she wouldn’t talk to him outside of work, when she had made it clear their relationship was to remain secret at work?
Then he remembered just what she’d said about that:
“Unless we’re engaged or something, and then you can sing it in the halls, for all I care.”
By the time he got home, he had the beginnings of a plan. He bounded the steps to his apartment and went straight for the phone. “Rique! Don’t kill me, man; I know I promised, but—you’ve got to help me write a song.”