Realm Wraith (42 page)

“Your place is lovely,” Rayne remarked.

“Me mum always said I had a good eye for decoration,” Miranda said. She shut the door behind her. “I don’t have much to offer. Haven’t had a chance to visit the shops. Would you like a beer?”

“Oh, certainly, I’d love one.”

He watched her open her fridge. It was nearly empty, save for a carton of milk, some leftover Chinese food, and a few bottles of beer on the bottom shelf. She grabbed two, handing one to Rayne and taking the other for herself.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she said. Rayne did so, parking his wheelchair next to the sofa, where Miranda sat down. She opened her beer and gulped it down. Rayne followed her example.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she said, still quiet. “David acted like everything was normal. I knew if you’d died, he’d have said so. So, then, you didn’t confront the demon after all, did you?”

“Actually, I did. I convinced him to let me go. He won’t be hunting me anymore.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“I suppose you are.” She took another sip of her beer. “I’m still here, too.”

Rayne wondered if this was her first drink. She’d only been home a short while, but for all he knew, she’d stopped elsewhere first. She did not seem disoriented, but her state of mind seemed clouded, distanced.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” she said after some silence. “You’ve taken to your chair quite well.”

“Yeah. Never realized how useful legs were before the accident, you know?” he laughed.

She sipped her beer again, not interested in following up to that. Her hair was disheveled, her blouse was buttoned wrong, one loose ornament with no cloth to fasten itself to hanging there, misaligned. Her eyes had a glazed look to them, the once clear green irises clouded, mud stained. Rayne couldn’t help looking past her, seeing a miserable white form hunched over, eyeless, features sewn shut. Rusted chains draped it, adding to the sense of misery. She caught his gaze.

“It’s hard to think clearly these days,” she whispered. “There’s just constant pain, a reminder of what I really am. Even when I’m awake, I only hear screaming, here in me head.”

Rayne remained silent; he had no words of comfort for her now.

“Sometimes, I just think it would be better to be one of them. To not be aware anymore. I’d be in pain, but I wouldn’t really know about it, you know? Or—”

Rayne did not like what he was hearing. “Or—?”

“Or maybe even better, to just have it all end. To know nothing. To feel nothing. No more pain, no more suffering. It would be just the end. I’d never have to feel anything again.”

“Why would you want something so horrible?”

“Because I’m miserable, Rayne. I know if I die, I’ll lose my mind. And only pain will remain. But oblivion, that would take the pain away, and I’d never have to suffer.”

“Miranda, don’t talk like that. The Abyss has clouded your judgment. You’ve been suffering so long, you’ve forgotten what happiness is. You can be happy again!”

“No, I can’t!” she cried, tears in her eyes.

“Miranda, I think you’ve had enough.” Rayne moved closer, and reached out to take the beer bottle from her, though it didn’t have much left inside.

“Stop it!” she yelled, yanking her hand back. She took pause, and handed over the bottle.

“You’re always looking out for me,” she sobbed. “You seem to care so much about redeeming me, helping me. I think it’s foolish, but I’ve actually come to care for you. When we first met, in the hopsital, you, barely able to move, to speak. You had such intense eyes, I couldn’t help falling into them, and I thought ‘well he’s an handsome fella, ain’t he?’ And you were so helpless, but so friendly, and I always looked forward to looking in on you. And then things turned around and you tried so hard to help me. You took to the Abyss much better than I ever did. For a brief moment, I almost dared to hope that maybe you would be the one to set me free. But now I get it. Now I see. I know you can never care for me the way I do for you but, do you care for me at all?”

Her question surprised Rayne. He didn’t know what to say, how to explain how he felt about her inside.

“I do think you’re a very beautiful, caring woman with a lot to give. I greatly enjoy your company when I’m in the Abyss, even if you can’t speak.”

“But that’s just a description. how do
you
feel
? About me?”

Rayne looked away, unsure. “I do think I feel something for you. A sense of—I don’t know.”

The word that played in his head was desire, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He had never thought about such feeling before. He could smell a light perfume coming from her, and its scent thrilled him. She looked beautiful to him, despite being so disheveled; her outfit accented her figure and showed off the soft skin of her neckline, and Rayne could feel his primal want overwriting his common sense.

She suddenly reached out and grabbed him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her lips against his. He twitched in surprise at her advances, wrapping one arm around her, pressing a hand up against her chest, enjoying the feeling of her smooth skin. He could feel passion welling up inside him, in her as well, and he savored it. There was a dangerous edge to his emotion that frightened him, and he tried to press it back down inside him, not wanting to indulge in it.

This isn’t right
! The words rattled in his head. He feared giving in to these feelings. He let his lips linger against hers, but refused to go further than this despite his body’s protests to the contrary, and the overwhelming desire inside him to take her right there on the couch. He forced his face back and looked away, not wanting to meet her eyes, even as she gazed at him. He felt foolish, yet oddly liberated, acting on impulse like this, but he dared not let it go on, and instead he held her close to him, choking back the feelings of pain coursing through him from having her so close, yet so distant from him. He drew in a deep breath, forcing his emotions to settle down. After a few moments in his arms, Miranda pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s all right,” he replied, still looking away. “You’re inebriated. You weren’t thinking clearly.”

He didn’t have to look at her to see her crestfallen face, but he knew he wasn’t much of a gentleman if he took advantage of a drunken woman like this, no matter how strong his feelings for her. For a few minutes neither of them spoke.

“Rayne, I want you to promise me something,” Miranda said after a few minutes, staring downwards.

“Name it.”

“If I—If I should pass on. If I should end up there, in the Abyss, like all of them—”

“Miranda, please—”

“Listen to me!” She slammed her hand down on the table. “If it happens, and you find me there. I want you to end me.”

“What?!”

“I know you can find a way. There’s a lot of creatures out there that could feed off a pitiful soul like me. My existence can end, and I will finally know peace.”

“You can’t ask me to make a promise like that!”

“Please, Rayne, I’m only asking if it comes to that! I want to know that I can count on you to grant me my last wish, when there’s no longer any other choice!”

A pained expression crossed Rayne’s face. He couldn’t understand why she would even think about something like this. But he closed his eyes, and nodded.

“If it comes to that, I’ll see what I can do.”

“You promise?”

Rayne opened his eyes again. “I promise.”

She exhaled a long breath. “Thank you, Rayne.” She stood from the couch, straightening out her skirt and staggering on her feet. “I wonder what it feels like,” she mused. “Do you simply lose everything? Become as if you were nothing? Or does a small fragment of you live on, as part of the demon that devoured you?”

“Miranda, you’re babbling nonsense. I think you’ve had far too much to drink.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right.”

“Go drink some water, it’ll clear your head a little.”

She smiled, a strange, flushed smile. “You really do look out for me. Thank you, Rayne. Thank you for everything.”

She wobbled her way to the bathroom. Rayne felt he shouldn’t leave just yet, with her in such a state. Maybe wait until she sobered up, or fell asleep. Sleep would not ease her mind, he knew. He wished there was a way he could soften her pain without sending her plummeting further into despair. It felt like every time he tried to talk with her, he only made things worse.

A buzzing from within his jacked made him twitch in his seat. He had forgotten his cell phone was there, and pulled it free, wondering who could be calling him so late.

“David?” he asked as he opened it up and hit ‘Talk.’

“Hey, Rayne, just checking in on you. Wanted to know how much longer I needed to wait.”

“Oh, geez, I’m sorry. Miranda invited me in for a drink, guess I forgot you were still downstairs.”

“Well, how much longer are you going to stay? Or is it
that
kind of visit?”

“No. It’s not. I don’t know how long I’m going to stay. I just want to be sure she’s all right.”

“Is something wrong? She seemed fine when I saw her at work yesterday.”

“Was she on call today?”

“Yeah, I think she was scheduled to get off before noon. I assumed she just went straight home, but what do I know? Why?”

“Well, she was just getting home when I showed up. I thought she’d come here straight from work.”

“I guess she went somewhere else first, then.”

A pub, Rayne rationalized. It explained her mental state.

“Listen, David, I’ll be down in a bit. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I’ll call you back if I need anything.”

“I’ll be here.”

He hit “End” and thrust the phone back in his pocket. He looked at the beer bottle next to him, empty now, and his mind buzzed from faint intoxication. Dropping by just to check in on Miranda was starting to seem like a worse and worse idea the more he dwelled on it. Maybe he should just go, let her sleep off her alcoholic stupor.

Another ten or fifteen minutes passed as Rayne debated his options, glancing through Miranda’s living room while he thought. He felt bad for being nosy, but it was his first time here. She didn’t have much for decoration besides the tables and chairs. No photographs, no books, no music albums. If it weren’t for the furniture, there wouldn’t be much evidence that anybody lived here at all.

After twenty minutes, Miranda still hadn’t come out of the bathroom. He slipped over to the door and knocked on it.

“Miranda?” he called. “Is everything all right in there?”

Nobody answered, but the slight rapping of his knuckles against the door was enough to push it open, as it had not been completely shut. It swung inwards, just a tiny amount, so that Rayne could see a limp, feminine hand hanging against the side of a bathtub.

“Oh God!” he exclaimed, shoving the door the rest of the way open. She lay collapsed in her tub, some of her hair tangled in the faucet. Her wide open eyes stared at unseen visions above her, and a slight trickle of blood poured from her mouth.

“Miranda!” He wheeled to her side and looked around. A bottle of pills lay on the ground, empty. “What have you done?!”

He groped for his phone again, opening it with shaking hands and punching the numbers 9-9-9.

“Hello? Help me, please, I’ve got a woman here, she’s taken a lot of these pills, she’s collapsed! Oh God, I don’t think she’s breathing!” he babbled into the receiver as soon as the other side picked up. His world turned upside down, nothing made sense right then, only the cold realization that Miranda had done this intentionally. A soothing voice on the other line told him to calm down, but he barely heard her. He blurted out Miranda’s address and flat number, and they told him to wait while they sent an ambulance.

“Miranda, please hang on! Don’t do this, you don’t have to die!
Please
!” he begged, hoping she could still hear him. He felt a hand brushing against him, and he picked it up and clasped it between his own. Her mouth moved, her voice a scratched whisper, the last words she could still speak.

“Remember—you promised—”

Chapter 14

The waiting area inside the emergency room was filled with people holding their injuries, waiting to be seen. Rayne sat off to one side away from the throngs of light and noise, oblivious to all of them. He buried his head in his hands, stunned, his own feelings a mystery to him. He didn’t know how to feel right now. Should he cry? Should he be angry? Scared? Should he dare to hope it wasn’t too late? Or should he grieve now?

An inebriated man holding a bleeding hand, his thumb absent, stumbled into his chair as he lurched past him. He glared down at Rayne, growling out a threat for him to watch it. Rayne glared up at him with full fury, and the other man started and backed away.

“The Devil’s in those eyes,” he muttered as he disappeared into the crowd of injured.

“Rayne, there you are.” He looked up to see David weaving through the crowd. “The doctors took her back to pump her stomach. Don’t know anything further. What the hell happened?”