Tracey H. Kitts - Lilith Mercury 1 - Red (24 page)

Marco held the book out to me, and I was almost afraid to touch it.

“I still can’t believe that you would …,” I began, but he cut me off.

“What, a monster is not allowed some measure of civility?” His tone was only slightly bitter.

“No, it’s just that … well, I was always told you were crazy.”

“What a coincidence,” he snarled, his voice dripping with irony.

I took the book then, but when I went to untie the leather cords, he stopped me.

“Wait,” he said, placing his hand over mine. “You’ll want some privacy for what’s between those pages.”

That only made me want to open it more, but I nodded my agreement.

“I assume you took a cab here?”

“I drove.” My voice sounded distant, even to me.

“Are you alright to drive?” The compassion in his voice surprised me. Marco was the last person I expected sympathy from.

There I was, holding within my hands a piece of history that might explain to me a great deal about myself. No, I wasn’t alright to drive. I was in shock.

“I’ll take you back to your hotel,” he said.

My knees felt wobbly, so I decided not to argue. It should have felt strange, handing Kat’s keys over to Marco, but it didn’t. It somehow seemed perfectly natural to let him take care of me. That in itself was cause enough for concern, but I was too caught up in my own thoughts to pay much attention.

After the shock had worn off a bit, I would later wonder how it was that I put not only my life, but my friend’s life in his hands. Marco was right. We had been enemies for so many years that they all seemed to run together, and though we’d spoken only once until recently, I felt that I knew him. By reputation at least, I did. In our own way, we were a comfort to each other in that our battle had always been constant. Most people need something constant in their lives, and however strange it may have been, Marco was that constant for me, that one thing that I could always count on. If nothing more, he was RED

Tracey H. Kitts

119

dependable to always be the devil’s advocate. It had never mattered before, whether or not I liked him. He was the enemy, and that was that. The problem was, as I got to know Marco, I did like him.

We made our way back to Kat’s table where she and Luther were still cracking jokes. When she saw me, the laughter drained from her face.

“What did you do to her?” She turned accusingly to Marco.

I answered for him. “Kat, it’s alright. He didn’t do anything.”

“I shared some news with her that a was a little ….”

“Shocking,” I finished.

“What’s that?” She pointed to the large journal that I was clutching to my chest like it was a life raft and I was drowning.

“My great, great, grandfather’s journal,” I mumbled.

Apparently, Kat was beginning to sober up a bit. She took in the shocked look on my face once more before asking, “He wasn’t a werewolf, was he?”

“He was a wizard,” I answered.

Marco and Luther helped to escort us from the building. To the casual observer, Kat and I must have looked like a couple of stone drunks. Marco held me tight against his side since my knees no longer seemed steady, and Luther practically had to carry Kat across the parking lot.

Once I was safely in the passenger seat, Marco leaned across my lap to fasten the seat belt. I got another whiff of his wonderful scent and managed to form a slightly coherent thought, “Why are you fastening me in?”

“If you die, Red, who would I have to play with?”

“You’ve been playing with him?” Kat asked as Luther helped her into the backseat.

Marco laughed as I answered, “No, Kat.”

“But he just said that ….”

“Unfortunately, I’ve been instructed to play with myself,” Marco teased.

“Well, that’s a damn shame,” Kat said, leering at him as he fastened her seat belt, as well.

Marco climbed in behind the wheel and gave instructions to Luther to follow us in his car. The drive back to the hotel was quiet, except for Kat humming to herself in the backseat. The darkness of the tinted windows made the small space between Marco and me seem more intimate. He reached over and removed my hand from the straps on the book that I’d been absently toying with.

“Isn’t anyone going to speak?” Kat finally asked.

But, I didn’t know what to say. I was fascinated by wizards and their strange powers. But I’d always thought of them as being so far beyond my reach. Since only seven were born every century, I’d never even met a wizard before. All I knew of them was what I’d heard or read in history books, and now I had the journal of one in my hands. Not just any wizard, but my own flesh and blood. He was one of the great wizards of legend, and believe me, they weren’t all nice. Many a jilted husband blamed The Seducer for their wife’s betrayal.

RED

Tracey H. Kitts

120

Part of me was very afraid of what I might find in that journal. I didn’t want to read about the calculated manipulations of innocent women, especially not when one of them was related to me.

Marco made sure we were alright before he left. “Red.” He turned back to me.

“Yes?”

“Wait till you get home to read it.”

“Alright.” I sighed.

I didn’t want to wait that long, but seeing as how Marco knew what was on those pages and I didn’t, I was inclined to take his word. Kat was about to collapse, so after Marco left, I helped her get to bed, but I didn’t sleep. Only a few hours separated us from dawn, and I spent them staring at the journal where it rested near the foot of the bed. My world might suddenly make more sense, or become even more confusing, depending on the words in that book. The more I thought of it, the more I didn’t want to know.

I drove the next morning, not just because Kat had a headache, but to resist the temptation of opening the journal. As much as I didn’t want to know, I was still too curious to let it be. I recounted the story to Kat, telling her as much as I knew. There were things I could share with her that I could never tell Richard, even though he had been like a brother to me, and what had happened last night with Marco was one of them.

Of course I trusted Richard, but his views of the world were very black and white.

According to him, ‘you don’t toast marshmallows over the fire that will most likely consume you’. He was right really, but I knew that Kat would understand where I was coming from. We might have been very different in some ways, but she was a woman, too, and we both understood that the prospect of having a relationship of any kind with Marco was not completely unappealing.

“How could you ever live with a werewolf though? I mean, you’d have your time of the month, and he’d have his.” Kat laughed. “You might end up killing each other.”

That was true, but the conversation shortly turned to a much more pressing matter.

“What will you do with the journal?” she asked.

“Read

it.”

And that’s exactly what I did. After Kat left, I unpacked my bags and spent the day cleaning the entire house. I could always think better if everything was in order, and I wanted no distractions once I got started. When at last I could find nothing more to occupy my time, I sat the book on a blanket in front of the fireplace downstairs. Since it was summer, a large collection of candles sat across the hearth in place of a fire, and I lit them all. Finally, I sat down with a bottle of wine, an empty glass, and my great, great, grandfather’s journal. The place was dark except for the candlelight, lending a ceremonial feel to the room. A fine tremor ran through my body as I began to untie the leather straps that bound the book.

I took a deep breath and opened the journal. Nothing could have prepared me for the image that was hidden just inside its cover. Staring back at me was a picture of the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. He was tall, with broad shoulders and hair the color of a captive flame. His hair was just long enough to touch the fabric of the stunning emerald robes that he wore, and for several minutes I just stared in awe of his beauty.

RED

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121

Without reading further, I forgave my great, great, grandmother Aurora, for whatever she might have done. No mortal woman could have resisted this man. Hazel eyes so much like my own seemed to smile up at me as I stretched forth trembling fingers to touch a masculine version of my own face.

I couldn’t say how long I sat there with my heart in my throat before I looked at the opposite page. I dropped the book and scrambled backward across the floor, not daring to take my eyes from it. The first page was a letter addressed to me. Slowly, I crawled forward, sat the book back in my lap, and began to read:
My dearest Lilith
,

I have longed to know you, and though that may not be possible, through these
pages, I give you an opportunity to know me. By now, my reputation will have no doubt
preceded me. I will not deny that some of it is true. However, no one will ever
understand me as you will, for through you, my power is reborn
.

I have seen you in my dreams, and through many visions, I have known you. You
are, of course, wondering who else may have read these words, and I tell you none will
ever read what I have to say to you. These pages show what I wish for them to show, and
I reveal my secrets to no one
.

I know how it is that you have learned of me, and I apologize for the shock.

Please understand that I saw no other way. This journal had to find its way into your
hands.

As far as anyone knows, though I loved many, I had no descendants. There are
those who would seek to use you for their own evil purposes, and this I cannot allow. I
have watched over our family all these long years, searching for the one who would
inherit my power.

From the moment I first saw Aurora, I had visions of you. Though this is the first
you have seen of me, please believe me when I say that I have loved you all of my life.

I know your loneliness and your pain, but do not mourn over much for an old man
who has lived too long. Another will watch over you in my absence, though he does not
yet know it.

Everything will not become clear at once, and there are some of my gifts that you
may never receive. However, if you will let me teach you what I know, I can show you
how to be so much more than what you have become.

So, shed a tear for me my child, but do not mourn for the arms that cannot hold
you, for you will not always be alone.

With all my love
,

Mathias Alexander

I hadn’t realized I was crying until I’d finished the letter. I held the book to my chest and cried for a man that had been dead for over forty years. There was more understanding in his words than I could have hoped for and as I read on, I loved him, too.

Through his words, I saw myself. I also found that the journal was enchanted. It somehow held his life’s story. Every time I turned a page, a new one would appear, though the book never got any thicker.

RED

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122

I did not find the cold and calculating Seducer of legend, but a compassionate individual who felt so deeply the pain of others. As I read his description of ‘how to ease the troubled mind’, I understood what had happened with Kat, and more recently with Elijah. His touch had been like a balm to the aching soul. How I wished I could have heard his voice.

There is truth in the term ‘sexual healing’ and this my child, is what we offer. It
may not always be in the technical sense of the word, but there is much comfort in the
compassionate touch. It is a beautiful and terrible power that you possess and can easily
be used to take advantage.

I do not have all the answers, merely explanations that may offer you some
comfort.

And they did. The next week passed by unnoticed. I took breaks only to eat, sleep, and use the bathroom, and even then I sometimes took the journal with me. It felt as if I’d finally found someone to understand me. So much was made clear by his words.

He gave me meditations to practice in order to more fully control what he referred to as

‘the voice of seduction’.

On Friday morning I was surprised to reach what looked like the final page as I read:

Do not be wounded when others do not understand you, or grieve too long when
your heart is broken, for no ordinary man will ever understand you.

For a minute I paused. It startled me to read the almost exact words that Marco had spoken to me last weekend, and made me wonder what the journal had said to him.

It went on to say that only one other wizard had ever come close to being able to manipulate his voice in the same way, and if our paths should ever cross, I would ‘know him’.

I had no idea what that meant, but I was brought back to reality by his next words:
You will turn to me many times, and find wisdom that was not here before.

But for now, hurry and lift the back cover and get a shower, you are going to be
late for your date.

I had forgotten all about my promise to cook dinner for Elijah that night, but I’d learned enough not to question how Mathias could have reminded me after being dead for forty years. It’s best not to question a wizard who could see the future.

I lifted the back cover and found hidden in a small chamber within it, a necklace with a large pink stone encased with silver, and a lock of brilliantly red hair. I knew without being told that it was Mathias’ hair. I turned back to the last page, hoping for more of an explanation but found only these words:
I will explain later.

Realizing that I would get no further explanation until it was time for me to know, I replaced the strange necklace in the hidden compartment, but the hair I examined more closely. As I ran my fingers over the silken red lock I closed my eyes and felt the presence of a man I had never known, though he was as familiar to me as my own face.