A Tiny Bit Mortal (16 page)

Climbing down from the bed I crouched a few feet away from the necklace.  Carefully, I reached over and touched it.  I felt queasy.  Remembering Tim’s revulsion toward the silver, I understood.  It was disgusting.

Grabbing a hair brush off of my vanity, I approached it again. Looking at it sideways I scooped up the necklace with the handle of the brush.  I walked with it away from my body, like I was disposing of a dead animal. 

Stepping into the back of my closet, I opened a drawer full of accessories.  I found a box and dropped it in, closing it quickly.  After taking a deep breath I shoved it into the back of the drawer.

After I went back into the bedroom, I stared at the unfolded letter on the floor next to the bed where I’d dropped it.  Picking it up, I smoothed it out and began to read.

Emily,

Your mom is safe now.  We watch over her, always.  I know what you’ve done, and it doesn’t matter.  I will always love you.  Always.  Please come home to me.

Love,

Peter

Feeling sick, I crumbled up the letter.  “It doesn’t matter?” I thought.  I would never be able to make up for the things I had done, and I didn’t want his forgiveness.

Though Peter and I had spent hours talking and sharing, he felt like a stranger to me.  Strange things were happening when I met him, and I wondered if it was that alone that attracted me to him.  My mind wandered to the memory of Peter holding me down, keeping me from trading myself in for my mom’s freedom.

When the word “freedom” passed through my mind, I remembered running through the night hand in hand with Tim.  Muriel had threatened to throw me in a cell over Tim, and I wondered how long the freedom would last.

After throwing the letter in the wastebasket I picked up the phone and dialed “1” to have my room cleaned.  I wanted that letter gone.

Not wanting to be near any of it, I left down the stairs to go outside.  Wandering into the garden, I found the same private place where Tim and I had spoken before, surrounded in bushes.  Sitting down on the ground, I wrapped my arms around my legs.

I let myself think of my old apartment.  I remembered the comfort of sitting in my book room, on the dusty blue chaise lounge.  I missed George, my stubborn old cat.  I missed working with Rick.

Turning my head to the side, I rested it on my knees.  Everything had seemed so clear before when I was with Muriel in her hall.  The letter from Peter shook me up.

Taking in a deep breath,  I imagined for a moment what it would be like to run away, and go back to my dad’s house.  I would barely be able to look my dad and Peter in the eye. 

They
knew
I was staying because I wanted to, and it was true.  It wasn’t about shame anymore either.  I felt invested in the world I was living in.

Rocking back and forth with my arms around my legs, I put my hand up to the diamond hanging from the necklace on my chest.  “There’s no turning back.” I said, to no one.

After making my way back up to my room, I inspected the trash can to see that it had been taken out.  I dialed “1” on the phone.  “Bring me a bottle of wine, please.” I said.

“What would you like?” the woman said.

“Surprise me.” I said, hanging up.

A woman in black scurried in, leaving a vintage bottle of Pinot Noir and a glass.  She uncorked it, poured a glass, and left.

Drinking the entire glass, I left it on the side table and climbed into bed with the bottle.  I drank straight from the bottle until I felt numb.  I was on my back on top of the covers when I saw Muriel appear.

Without speaking, she took the bottle from me, pulled back the blankets and covered me up.  She shut off the light and left.  All of my cares melted away with the buzzing haze in my mind, carrying me off to sleep.

The Visitor

In my dream it was
an earthquake, but when I woke up it was Muriel shaking me awake.  “Get up.” she said.  “We have a big day today.”

Sitting up in bed, I looked around at my large room that was becoming more familiar to me with each morning.  I pushed my blankets off, noticing that I’d fallen asleep in my dress and it had ridden up around my stomach.  Rubbing my temples, I felt like my head was in a vice.

“Here.” she said, holding a wine glass out to me.  After accepting the glass, I peered into it and recognized it as red wine laced with blood.  As I thought of the power and ecstasy pulsing through my body, I remembered running fast through the night with Tim.  I craved that rush.

“Wait.” she said, before I could grab the glass.  It took all of my strength not to just grab it from her and pour it down my throat like a hungry animal.  “Cleanse yourself first.” she said.  “I need you at your best.”

Setting the glass aside and sighing, I threw myself back onto my pillow.  Closing my eyes, I concentrated.  That time, instead of just asking the alcohol to leave, I carefully guided it out through my skin.  I erupted into a cold sweat and shivered.  I felt sweaty and gross, but it was much better than throwing up.

When I sat back up in the bed, Muriel handed me the glass.  I threw back my head and poured it down.  The rush of power that I had craved coursed through my body.  It felt like sunshine, kisses, and fluttering butterflies.

Muriel walked away, and I got into the shower.  I rinsed away the sweat and felt every single drop of water caressing my skin.  Reaching up towards the shower head with my open palm, I reveled in the sensation.

Emerging from the shower, I dried off with the towel.  I stepped up to the platform of the tub and stood naked in the large window.  Looking down at the garden, was able to zoom in on tiny things with my vision, and saw a tiny dew drop on a leaf.  It was glowing with the colors of the sunlight.

From the tiny leaf, I looked out into the distance and scanned the valley below.  A figure caught my attention.  There was a sidewalk through a suburb about five miles into the valley, and there stood a man, facing me.  I looked closer at his face and saw the face of Peter, looking at me with sad eyes.  Gasping, I jumped down from the platform.

Muriel appeared in the doorway.  “Are you alright?” She asked.  “I could taste your fear all the way from the foyer.”

“I just saw...” I said, thinking of what to say.  “Can the blood make you hallucinate?” I asked.

“No.” she said.  “It only sharpens your vision.  It never defies it.”

Looking down at the floor, I felt afraid to look out of the window again.  It was difficult to believe that Peter could have been really standing down in the valley, miles away, staring at me.  He seemed like a ghost.

“Do not be overwhelmed by what you see, Emily.” she said.  “You are seeing the world in a way that mortals aren’t capable of.  All of its beauty and detail, and all the things that exist to serve
you
.”

I told my body to be calm, and took some deep breaths.  Peter’s face attempted to flash through my mind but I quickly snuffed it out.  I wished that he would just give up on me already.

Not bothering to put on my robe, I walked into my bedroom.  Tim was sitting in my bed, and Muriel was nowhere in sight.

As I looked around for Muriel, Tim said “Muriel called me and I ran here as quickly as I could.  She said you were going through something that she’d rather have me deal with.”

The whole Peter in the window situation faded away when my eyes locked on to Tim.  He was removing his shirt, and I could see the muscles on his abdomen and then his arms.  Everything about him was glorious, even the shape of his navel. 

Launching myself across the room, I dove into the bed on top of him.  I held down his arms and kissed his lips.  He flipped me over onto my back and kissed me back, and I disappeared into a state of absolute bliss.

I found myself in the shower again, being caressed by the water.  When I got out and closed the shower door behind me, I looked over to the window.   “Not looking out there again.” I thought, as I dried myself off with the towel. 

After I went into my closet and emerged in a dress, I found Muriel standing in my bedroom.  “You look much better.” she said, with a wink.  “Let’s go.”

Following her down the hall, down the stairs, and out into the foyer, she stopped just before the front door and turned to me.  “First,” she said. “we have a photo shoot.  After that, we head to your interview.  It may seem dull today, but don’t worry. I will cut you loose later so you can go clubbing with your sidekick.  I know you love that.”

The photo shoot did seem as dull as Muriel had predicted.  High on the blood, I wanted to dance, run or make love to Tim.  There was too much power running through me, and I felt like a moth trapped in a jar being denied it’s journey towards the flame.

I found an outlet by “showing myself” to the cameras.  I made myself vivid as possible, moving my body in subtle ways to exploit my beauty.

The interview consisted of me quickly memorizing and repeating Muriel’s carefully crafted lies.  I was an heiress that had lived in Hollywood my whole life.  I thought it was funny that I was just now being noticed.  Muriel was my mother, a successful business woman and billionaire. 

I told the interviewer that I was set to take over the business in another few years, and I listed off my philanthropic ways that I would use my billions to try to make the world a better place.  The interviewer ate that up, and everyone listening leaned forward in their seats.

The entire day was consumed by the photo shoot and the interview.  As Muriel promised, she cut me loose on the city with Tim, just as the sun began to set.

Tim and I partied late into the evening, going from club to club and ending up at a small party hosted at the Mansion of a Hollywood actress.  The night became a blur of lights, faces, and the hands of strangers on my skin.

Floating on my back in the pool, I felt the sunshine on my face.  The air was sweet from blooming flowers and trees in the nearby garden.  Spring had set in, bringing with it hot afternoons full of pool parties and basking in the sun. 

The days piled up behind me, a heap of memories that gave me a rush to sort through and remember.  My previous life, as a scientist and introvert, seemed tiny and without meaning. Remembering back to my days at my dad’s house, the immortal world they had introduced me to seemed so quiet and hidden.

I began to believe my own lie that The Pure were holding me hostage when I was staying with my dad.  It sure felt that way when I couldn’t even leave my dad’s house unescorted.  And for what?  They kept me in fear of The Corrupt, of Tim.  There was nothing about Tim that I feared.  Granted, Muriel scared the hell out of me on occasion, but my dad and Peter had denied me so much. 
They
seemed like the corrupt ones. 

The water rolled off of me as I emerged from the pool.  After that, I went back to my room to spend the afternoon picking out the perfect outfit, getting my hair styled and my makeup applied.  Descending the stairs, I was ready for another wild evening hopping from club to club with Tim.

Stepping into the hallway covered in Egyptian art, I went down the winding stairs into Muriel’s hall.  After I bowed at her feet, Muriel rose from her chair, whispered to a nearby immortal man which left and returned with a mortal man.  He followed me up the stairs and into the dimly lit room with the platform.  He sat upon the platform on his knees and bowed his head with a smile.  His arms rose above his head, his head still bowed.

“You come to me willingly?” I asked.

“Yes.” he said. 

Cutting his wrist with the sharp pointed thimble on my index finger, I drank from him.  Brimming with power, I ran across the garden and wound through the gardens to Tim’s house, running my fingers across leaves along the way.  Throwing open the front doors to his house, I rushed in and stood in the middle of his foyer.  I watched him as he descended the stairs, his body moving beneath his clothes.  He didn’t look like a male underwear model to me anymore.  He looked like a God.

We began our ritual of hopping from club to club, moving with the crowds.  The clubs always let us in past the line of people outside, appreciating the crowd that followed us.  We’d gained an entourage of some of the most famous people in Hollywood.

Dancing my way through a sea of people in a club, I spotted Tim in a trance, moving his body with the bodies around him.  After watching him for awhile I left down a hall and opened the door to the women’s bathroom.  Approaching the sink, I looked at myself in the mirror and arranged my hair.

“Shit.” I said, as I saw my dad appear in the mirror behind me.  Muriel had said that the blood wouldn’t make me hallucinate, but I thought maybe someone had slipped me something in my drink.  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

When I opened my eyes he was still there.  I saw him put his hand on my shoulder and felt it.  I turned around to face him.  “You’re real?” I asked, feeling lightheaded.

“Emily?” he said, with concern on his face.  “Of course I’m real.  I’m here to take you home.”

“No.” I said, crossing my arms.  “Please leave.”

“Emily.” he said, breathlessly.   “I knew it was bad, but...”  He searched my eyes.

After glancing at the door I looked back at him.  He was standing between me and the door.  I moved to go around him, and he moved to stand in front of me.  “Let me go.” I said, feeling pissed off. 

He wasn’t going to budge.  Glancing around me, I memorized the shape of the room.  His arms moved in slow motion towards me.  Waiting until he was within inches of me, I launched myself backwards.  Bending my leg underneath me, I used my foot to push myself off of the sink and towards a bathroom stall.  Catching the stall with my hands I swung my body off of it, launching myself towards the door.  I did all of this in the span of time that he had moved his hands up to place them on me.

I was out the door and running through the crowd.  Grabbing Tim by the arm, I woke him from his trance.  He looked confused.  I leaned in to his ear while we moved through the crowd and said “My dad is after me.”

Clinging to his arm as we broke through the crowd I said “Don’t let him take me, Tim!”

“Don’t look back.” he said.

“The car.” I said, as we ran past it.  “We run.” he said.  We ran faster than that day at the Hall of Elders where I had burst through the window, and the nights that we ran through the gardens.  As the world blurred in my periphery, I saw Tim’s mansion come in to view.

We burst through the front doors and Tim held me in the center of his foyer.  I looked at the door, with my chest heaving, waiting in fear.  “You’re safe here.” he said.

“How?” I asked.

“He would never come in here.” said Tim.  “The same sort of forces that keep me from entering even the yard of his home keep him from mine as well.” 

I took a deep breath.  “What do we do now?” I asked.  “Should I call Muriel?”

He nodded.

I walked over to a phone that sat on a table in the far corner of the room and dialed the number to Muriel’s cell phone.  “Yes?” she asked.

“It’s me.” I said.  “My dad is after me.”

“Stay where you are.” she said.

A few minutes later she appeared in the doorway.  “I’ve got this place, and my place, crawling with guards.” she said.  “There’s no sign of him.”

She came closer and put her hands on my shoulders.  “Tell me what happened.” she said.  I told her how he appeared in the bathroom behind me, and wouldn’t let me leave.  I told her how I escaped and ran away with Tim.

“Good.” she said, letting go of me and pacing back and forth with the sound of her heels echoing in the foyer.  After several minutes of pacing, she stopped to face us.  “I think,” she said. “that you are loyal to me.  Don’t leave the house without the blood, and I think you’ll be too quick for any of them.  Just as a precaution, we will send someone ahead of you when you go, to make sure it’s free from those idiots.”

Muriel turned on her heels and walked out the front door.  Following Tim up to his bedroom, I attempted to calm myself along the way.  Climbing into his bed, I felt sleepy.  Tim climbed in next to me, facing me, looking concerned.  “I’m fine.” I said.  “I’m glad I’m safe.”

“Em..” he said, searching my eyes.  “That was your
dad
.”

I looked at him, confused.  “Was.” I said.  “Can we not talk about that?”

I ran my fingers along his abdomen, and he grabbed my hand and held it.  “He loves you, Em.” he said.

I looked away.  “Why would you say that?” I asked.  “I don’t like this side of you.”

He put his hand on my cheek and turned my face towards him.  I looked into his eyes and felt lost in the blue sky of them.  “You are in deep, Em.” he said.  “
I
am in deep.  I have been doing this for hundreds of years.  I know there’s no turning back.  I know what I am.”

He was quiet for a minute, and then a tear fell down his cheek.  “Sometimes I wish I could convince you to go back.” he said. “But I’m selfish, and I want you.”