Scryer (4 page)

I managed to make it outside without
knocking into anyone and stumbled around the corner and into an alleyway where
I crouched down, leaning against the wall and sucking in deep breaths.

“Ivy.”

I looked up and saw Caleb standing
there. Slowly, I managed to stand back up but still had to lean on the wall for
support. I raised my chin and hugged myself to stop from shaking.

“Thank you,” I said stiffly. “Thank you
for helping.”
Fuck
, I did not want to cry in front of this guy. I
couldn’t bear the shame of that on top of needing to be rescued. The last thing
that I needed to be was weak and pathetic.

His lips twisted slightly, like he was
trying not to form them into a cocky smile. “You’re welcome.”

The shaking wouldn’t stop, but I didn’t
know if that were more from the strangling octopus man or from catching sight
of Lake. I felt like I was losing control of my body, much like when I went
into the trance after being satiated at the rituals, and I spoke words as if
someone else inhabited my body and told me what to say.

I forced my hands to loosen, and I stood
upright, looking Caleb straight in the eye. “Come home with me,” I told him.

He didn’t look surprised, although he
wasn’t the kind to let on if he was. He was like Lake in that regard. For a
moment I thought he might want me to explain further, that he might want me to
beg
.
In my mind a jumble of thoughts made sense to me. I wanted touch. I wanted
comfort— even if it were only meaningless sex.

Caleb gave a slight nod of his head, and
my lips flicked up slightly.

“Come.” Gone was the trembling mess from
before. Now I was in control, of this at least if nothing else.

He followed me to where a line of cabs
waited to take home the drunk with their lovers of the night. I gave my address
to the driver and slid over to the far side. Caleb sat on his own side and
didn’t make eye contact with me. We were like no other amorous couple. There
was no pretense, no game-playing, and no need for conversation. We would just
be two animals taking one another for our own selfish needs.

Caleb did pay the driver, though, before
I led him up the stairs to the apartment. We were both silent, there was no
need to speak and nothing to discuss. Once my bedroom door was safely closed,
we both removed our own clothes. It made me feel better to be naked than to
wear Penzance’s outfit and try to be someone I wasn’t. Naked like this, I felt
like I gave the image of having nothing to hide, although that, of course,
wasn’t true. I pressed play on my old CD player, and a slow jazz song began. An
unknown woman with a deep, throaty voice began to sing mournfully about dark
nights and lost lovers.

 I didn’t let my eyes linger on Caleb’s
body, that would give him too much of an ego boost, and something told me that
he wasn’t short on anything in that department, so instead I let my gaze rest
on his face while my own stayed as still and unrevealing as stone. His eyes
flickered briefly down my naked form before coming to rest on my face. He too
gave nothing away. I made the first move, stepping forward and resting my hands
on his hips, moving my thumbs slightly against his smooth skin.

He bent down and kissed me, not with
hunger but with a softness that seemed odd and out of character for someone
like him. It was a polite kiss, and nearly chaste. But that wasn’t what I
wanted.

I reached up and gripped his chin,
forcing his lips back down on mine in an urgent action. He joined the party,
matching my harsh and hungry kissing easily. He didn’t waste any time and
pushed me down on my bed. I fell willingly, ready to forget and be lost in the
arms of another who sparked in me nothing but lust. Feelings were for others;
feelings were dangerous and could lead to nothing good, like Lake Corin.

My nails curved involuntarily into his
back at thoughts of Lake, but if Caleb felt discomfort, he gave no indication
of it. Instead, he just kept kissing me harder. He knew now that I was no doll
that would break. There was no need to be gentle.

He entered me with little ceremony and a
slight grunt of satisfaction as he became encased within me, pausing for a few
moments as if growing used to my warmth before he began to thrust. Slowly at
first, but then I gripped his hair and pulled brutally to remind him that I needed
it rough to satisfy my body’s wants.

He caught on and thrust hard and fast as
if I were there only for his satiation. My hips lifted up to meet each movement
and I had to bite my lip to resist from spurring him on. My legs wrapped around
his back, trapping him in me, and he looked me in the eyes, before giving me a
sly smile and fucking me even harder. His fingertips dug into me so hard that
no doubt bruises would blossom on my pale skin tomorrow as dark signposts
spelling out that
Caleb was here.

We came together, his sweat flicking
down from his hair onto my face, but I didn’t even care at that stage. Part of
me had been lifted up for a while to a point where I could think of nothing but
flesh and wants. I opened my eyes as he slid out of me, panting and perspiring.
He reached for a towel that hung on the back of a chair, wiping himself before
passing it to me and collapsing down on his back on the bed. I settled into a
sitting position and wiped between my legs as well before tossing it to the
floor.

Finally, I turned toward to him and
caught him staring at me, his lips twisted up in a wry smile.

“So, are you going to kick me out now?”
he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s late, and I sleep better alone,” I
told him. “So…”

He yawned and sat up. “No problem.
Although next time, we’ll do it at my place so I can kick
you
out.” He
stood and reached for his clothes.

I raised an eyebrow. “Next time?”

“There’ll definitely be a next time.
Most women can’t get enough of me. You’re a case in point,” he said casually as
he began to dress. He grabbed my cellphone that sat on the dresser, last.
“Here’s my number.  Make sure that you call me. I like you. There are no
feelings or flowers, none of that shit, with you.”

I pressed my lips together tightly so I
wouldn’t smile at his arrogance.

“Anyway, thanks for the fuck, Ivy.” He
winked at me before walking to the door.

I took a breath. “Thanks for punching
out that guy for me.”

He paused and twisted his head to look
at me. “Sometimes I can be a gentleman. It doesn’t happen that often though, so
don’t get your hopes up.” He continued out of the room with his confident
swagger.

 I waited until I heard the apartment
door close before I let myself bark out a laugh. The nerve of him…but he was
right, I would call him. He was good in bed, and I saw nothing when I was with
him. Also, with that personality of his, there was absolutely no danger of
falling in love with someone like him.

I walked over to my hidden mirror and
pulled the cover off of it, the fabric pooled to the ground in a pile and all
that was revealed was just me. My neck was red from the octopus’s hands, and my
lips were a deeper hue and swollen from Caleb’s mouth. My hair sat in a messy
frame around my face, sex hair at its finest. My mouth formed a macabre half
smile at my appearance.

Danilo
and I drove up to the ceremony together. He had a car that was rusty and dirty,
and I had my doubts about its ability to make it up the steep, winding roads
that led to the estate that was hidden in the mountains. I could have had
Michael send a car for me, but that would be like giving in and I wasn’t quite
defeated yet.

“You don’t want me to drive?” I asked.
My hatred of heights had reared its ugly head and caused my stomach to turn,
plus I severely doubted Danilo’s ability to maneuver us safely around the sharp
bends on the unsealed road. He was tapping on the steering wheel and shaking in
his seat as if every nerve in his body was on fire, which it probably was.
Dorothea had cut him off from the
moiraine
in the week coming up to the
ritual; she didn’t want anything interfering with his abilities. He’d been
smoking a lot of marijuana instead, but it wasn’t the same and certainly wasn’t
working to calm him down.

“It’s fine!” he snapped. “This is my
fucking car and I’m fucking driving.” Then he took several deep breaths.
“Sorry,
again
. I’m sorry I’m being such an asshole.”

I reached over and squeezed his leg
through his jeans. “It’s okay. Maybe you should go into rehab or something when
we get back.” The words sounded stupid, even to me.

He let out a humorless laugh. “Sure.
What will I tell them? That I smoke this herb that stops me from seeing the
past and the future? That it stops me from going crazy? They’ll lock me away
for just being nuts. And just wait until I tell them that twelve times a year I
get forced to come up to this creepy place and made to cum by a bunch of cunts
because my sexual energy will put me into a trance that makes me tell them
everything about the future that they want to know? Yeah, that’ll go down
great.”

He shoved an ordinary cigarette in his
mouth and lit it, sucking desperately as if he wished that it were something
else.

“The ancient Greeks called us Oracles,”
I mused quietly as I tried to wind down the window for fresh air, but of
course, like most things in this car, it was broken and wouldn’t budge.

“I call us bitches. We’re like puppets
for them.” He exhaled smoke angrily. He wasn’t normally an angry person,
usually he was laidback and likeable, but that was probably because of the
drugs…

He took us around another sharp bend
faster than I would have liked and I gripped the seatbelt. But then I forgot
about his careless driving as the iron gates came into view, and beyond that, I
caught a glimpse of the house far in the distance. It wasn’t really a house
though; it was more of a mansion, or maybe a wannabe castle. Somewhere along
the line, Circle members had erected this massive dour structure of gray stone.
It sat as a blot on the landscape, complete with parapets and turrets in a
gothic style, surrounded by formidable iron fencing with vicious spiked tips to
keep everything here secret. There was nothing that shone about the Corins’
estate. It announced their story with honesty. They could have created some
magnificent structure that spelt out their wealth and brilliance like a make-shift
Versailles; instead they had conjured strong, formidable walls fit for sadistic
warrior kings. The darkness and the grimness suited them well.

Danilo pulled the car up to a screeching
halt just outside the gates. The camera moved to zero in on us and Danilo
happily gave it the finger before throwing his cigarette out his window and
onto the ground. With a hiss, the gates swung open as if pushed by phantoms,
welcoming us to our fate. He didn’t put the car into gear right away, though,
instead he sat there thinking. I could practically read his mind.

I gently touched his shoulder. “Danilo,
we have to. They’ll come after us if we don’t.”

“I know,” he said as he stared straight
ahead.

“If we don’t, they’ll just lock us up
and use us as they wish like in the old days. At least they’re sticking to the
agreement. It’s only twelve times a year, and we have our freedom—”

“Since when are you their fucking
cheerleader?” he snarled, and I removed my hand instantly from his shoulder, feeling
like I’d been slapped. “Because of that asshole, Lincoln, Luck?” he continued.
“You fell in love with one of
them.
How pathetic.” His face had turned
to an ugly, accusing sneer. “How
typical
of your family.”

“I didn’t know.” I managed to keep my
voice even. I knew he was only acting like this because of the withdrawal, but
still, it hurt. “His name’s Lake,” I said in a quiet voice, not sure why I needed
to clarify it.

“Whatever,” he muttered. “It’s a stupid
name.”

I wanted to say that I thought his name
was beautiful; that the name reminded me of crystal clear water where you could
jump in and safely see the bottom without fear of sharp rocks or monsters
lurking in the deep; that every time I used to think of his name it had given
me a refreshing feeling like I had just bathed in the purest, most unpolluted
waters. But of course, I said nothing like that. I stayed quiet.

 Roughly, Danilo put the car in gear and
slammed his foot down on the accelerator.  We jerked forward through the gates,
picking up speed as we approached the mansion, and for a moment, I thought that
he would drive us right into those stone walls.

“Danilo!”

He hit the brakes, and we skidded to a
halt just outside the elaborate stone stairway that led up to the entrance. “Relax,
Ivy.
I
know what I’m doing,” he said, scathingly.

I opened my mouth to tell him off, but
he was already out of the car and slamming the door shut behind him. I took a
few breaths to compose myself before unsteadily getting out the car and closing
the door behind me. I ended up having to slam it a few times to get it to close
properly, and it felt good to perform a violent action.

A slim man in a dark suit came down the
stairs to greet us. “Wonderful driving skills, Danilo,” Felix commented and
Danilo just scowled at him and tossed the keys to him. Felix ran things here.
Well, it was really the Corins who ran things, but Felix acted on their behalf.
Felix would no doubt move the car so it was like we weren’t even here, and in
the morning when we had completed our duty, it would be waiting out front for
us. There would be the vehicles of other scryers here as well, but we rarely
saw each other. There was no point. We were loners by nature. I was thankful
for that, because what my mother had done had made her a traitor to the others.
It was good not to have to see the condemnation in their eyes.

Felix gave me a nod. “Ms. Scryer. How
was your journey?”

“Terrible.” I grabbed my bag out of the
trunk of the car.

Felix stretched out his hands. “May I?”

“No.”

He pulled his hands back to his body. It
was the same every time. Refusing their assistance always felt like a small
triumph to me, albeit an empty one.

“I have your accommodations ready.
Please follow me.” He turned and led the way back up the stairs, while Danilo
and I followed. The huge oak doors were pushed open to reveal an expansive
entranceway. Large, cold flagstones created the floor, while the walls were
paneled with wood stained dark with oxblood. An occasional piece of art work
infused color into the enormous space, and most of it was red, whether by
bloodied battle scene or fire. Red was
their
color, so appropriate. My
eyes were immediately drawn to a large canvas showing a woman being burned at
the stake. The crowd around her bayed for blood. The artist had made their
faces twisted and cruel, while the woman looked upward serenely as red flames
licked at her feet. This could have been one of my ancestors, tormented and
slain for her talent, until the Circle members with their lust for greed
stepped in, offering us sanctuary and a lifetime of servitude.

“Ms. Scryer?” Felix called politely. How
many times had he said my name?

“Coming,” I muttered, pulling my eyes
away from the terrible scene and following him to the staircase that was
covered in a deep red carpet. I held onto the curving wooden balustrade as I
began the climb. At the first landing, it split in two and Felix gestured for
us to go up the right side. We followed him up several flights of stairs until
we came to another dark hallway.

“Please wait here while I show Ms.
Scryer to her room,” Felix told Danilo, who slumped down into an antique
armchair sullenly. Felix led me to the same room that I had stayed in all the
other times. It was beautiful with polished antique furniture and soft rugs
furnishing it. The dominant feature was the large four-poster bed with a velvet
canopy and finely embroidered bed covers. When I was a child, I had wished for
a bed like this. At the time, it seemed romantic, but now it was just like a
bribe to placate us and keep us docile.

A narrow door led to a small bathroom.
It was just as dark as the bedroom, but the fittings were all new, yet designed
to look antique. I turned on the faucets that hung over the claw foot bath. It
would be hours before the ritual, so I may as well wash off the filth of
Danilo’s car and cigarette smoke in the meantime. Toiletry items were laid out
on a small cabinet and the brands were all luxury ones. That would be
Dorothea’s doing. There was nothing cheap about her, and she even liked the
people she fucked to smell and feel expensive. I took my time opening the small
bottles and inhaling in the scents. If I were forced to be here, I may as well enjoy
it. Once in the bath, I lathered my skin with peppermint soap, knowing that I
would probably never wish to use that same-scented lotion again after tonight.

I lingered in the bath until my skin
began to shrivel, and after that I dried myself and rubbed in the peppermint
lotion until I was slick and smooth, and smelled like candy. I put on my own
robe; it was short, cream and silk, and probably the nicest thing that I had
ever owned. The antique clock chimed, telling me that I still had hours before
the ritual, and I sighed with boredom. I needed a drink, but nothing had been
supplied in this room. Still, I knew where to go. There was a library at the
end of the hall, and once it must have been a place where men retired to for brandy
and cigars, but now, whenever I’d been here, it was always silent. Someone
dusted it, because the leather bound books were always spotless but when they
opened, the rice paper always crackled like no one had bothered with them in
years.

I crept down the hallway in just my robe
and my bare feet. The expectation of Felix jumping out at me and telling me in
his cool voice to return to my allocated room had me constantly looking behind
me. But he didn’t appear, and I kept going. The arched door creaked as I
entered, and just as expected, the room was empty. A liquor cabinet with
leadlight windows in the doors stood against one wall, its shelves filled with
crystal and bottles that looked old and expensive, just like everything in this
house.

I blew dust off a bottle of French brandy
that had never been opened and examined the label before twisting the top off.
No doubt, unopened, it was probably worth a small fortune, but fuck them, I had
earned at least a thousand times that for them in the past. I
deserved
this.  After cleaning a glass with the bottom of my robe, I filled it and
plopped myself into one of the hard leather chairs and lifted it to my mouth.
It tasted horrible, but I drank regardless. Soon that soft drunken feeling
would come over me and dull everything.

The only windows in this room were high
as not to interfere with the bookshelves lining the walls, and a dull light
snuck through. Soon it would be dark. I switched on a green glass reading lamp
as I waited. Let them find me here if they wanted me. I raised my glass to my
mouth again, and then paused as I sensed someone behind me. I twisted my head
slightly in the chair to see who the intruder was.

“What are you doing here?” I asked
quietly, the bitterness in my voice was not hidden.

Lake moved into the room, closing the
door gently behind him. He could be so gentle—his hands, his words—they
disguised the brutality and selfishness that ran in his bloodline. I looked
away from him and continued to drink. Who knew that it could physically pain
you to look at someone?

“This is my family’s home. Where else
would I be?” I heard him pouring his own drink as my hand tightened on my glass.
“Good choice, Ivy. Do you know what this bottle’s worth? I’m guessing you
don’t. Wealth never meant much to you.”

My eyes darted up quickly to look at him
as he took a seat in the adjacent armchair.

“That’s right. I never want to be like
you—money hungry and cruel.” I spoke carefully. The last thing that I wanted
was for my voice to betray me by shaking.

There was no expression on his face. If
my words hurt, he showed no indication. We just stared at each other for a
moment, and then I got to my feet, draining my glass and placing it down on the
small table beside him.

“I didn’t mean to chase you out.”

I glared at him, before taking a breath
and forcing a smug smile. “How does it feel knowing that your uncle’s going to fuck
me tonight?” It was a risk; it could have backfired, and he could have mocked
me, laughed, and shrugged.

But he didn’t. There was the slightest
twitch on his face, a tightening of his lips, perhaps. And then he grabbed my
wrist, holding it so firmly that it nearly hurt. I didn’t pull away, just
waited for him to speak. But then the door to the library opened, and our eyes
both went to Felix, who stood there looking first at Lake and then at me.