Tracey H. Kitts - Lilith Mercury 1 - Red (26 page)

“To you … I’m afraid that I am.”

He slid closer. “Is this something that you see, or something that you feel?”

RED

Tracey H. Kitts

128

“Something that I’m afraid of,” I whispered as his lips came dangerously close to mine.

“Would you ever hurt me?” he asked.

“Of course not.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

With that question he closed the distance between us. For one stunned moment, I didn’t respond, but then I wrapped my arms around him. He felt firm and warm beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, and I breathed deeply of his wonderful cologne.

His lips tasted of sweet red wine and I drank him in. I held him more tightly, running my hands through the softness of his hair. But the feel of Elijah’s soft hair between my fingers brought back the memory of someone else whose hair shined like polished obsidian in the morning sun, and I pulled back.

“I’m sorry.” His breath was a warm promise against my lips.

“No,

you’re

not.”

“No, I’m not.” He sighed as our lips met once more.

“I can’t,” I whispered, pulling back again.

“It’s Alfred, isn’t it?” he questioned with a frustrated sigh.

“Yes.”

“Is it just the Italian thing?” he asked.

“No.” I smiled. “But that doesn’t hurt.”

I was relieved to see his smile return, lacking none of its usual charm.

“I took Spanish in high school,” he said, doing a fairly decent imitation of a Spanish accent.

When I laughed he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t push the issue.”

“Is it really an issue?”

“No, not really. I enjoy being around you.”

“Me, too,” I confessed. I meant I enjoyed being around Elijah, but the comment sounded like I was full of myself. Fortunately, he seemed to get my meaning.

“So.” He got to his feet. “Let’s not screw with that.”

It was nice to know that he didn’t plan to stop coming by. I really did like spending time with Elijah and the thought of not seeing him depressed me. Going without his smile would be like never being able to watch another sunrise.

“But, if you ever
want
to screw, I did give you my cell number, didn’t I?”

“Come on.” I laughed. “I’ll show you my dungeon.”

Elijah followed me through the foyer into the kitchen, where I collected the key to the dungeon before entering the door that led down to Alfred’s lab. The staircase was narrow and dark, barely wide enough for two people, and made completely of stone. It looked as if someone had carved the steps out of a natural rock formation long ago. The years and many footsteps had worn them until the edges were smooth.

“How do you see down here?” he asked.

“I have excellent night vision,” I replied taking his hand. “And Alfred knows the way by heart.”

“What did he do before then?”

RED

Tracey H. Kitts

129

“He used a flashlight. There are sconces along the wall with torches, but in the time it would take to light them all, I could just show you the way.”

I led him down for a ways before turning to an ornately carved door to the left.

“What’s that way?” he pointed down the stairs.

“That way goes to Alfred’s laboratory.”

I took the lighter from my pocket and lit the torch beside the door in order to give Elijah a better view of the etchings. An elegant archway was carved into the surface, amongst a tangle of vines and leaves so real that you almost expected them to part in order to pass. Elijah reached out his hand and traced the delicate pattern with his fingertips.

“What’s it made of?”

“Silver.”

“It’s

beautiful.”

“Yes, but I believe its purpose was to keep werewolves from escaping the dungeon.”

He continued to stare in fascination at the carvings until I opened the door with the silver key I’d picked up in the kitchen. Stone steps similar to the ones that had led us thus far, continued down into the dungeon. This was not the dank and frightening dungeons in history books, but a magnificent display of architectural talent. The ceiling that arched upward, reminiscent of a castle, was carved from the same gray stone as the steps. The arches were carved just as expertly as the pattern on the silver door, making them look smooth to the touch. However, as they met the wall, the stone had been only roughly chipped away except for the pillars sculpted to meet the arches of the ceiling.

“Wow.” Elijah stared in awe at the ceiling while I lit the torches along the wall.

“That was my first impression, too.” I smiled.

I explained to him that the dungeon had been what attracted me most to the house.

“I can understand why,” he said, running his hands over the magnificent pillars.

Just then, Elijah began to notice the many unusual devices around the room.

“Holy crap,” he said, eyes wide. “Did it come with all this?” He motioned around the room.

“Yep. Would you like the grand tour?”

“Can you tell me how it all works?” he teased.

“Of

course.”

“In that case, let ‘er rip.” He smiled.

“Ok.” I decided to start with the table along the wall, which was an antique itself.

“This,” I indicated the first device which resembled a double headed fork attached to a leather collar, “was known as The Heretic’s Fork. The sharp points on each end are placed deep into the flesh under the chin and into the sternum. It completely prevented all movement of the head, allowing the victim to only whisper a confession.”

“And this,” I moved on to an object which resembled a pair of brass knuckles with long curving claws, “is The Cat’s Paw, also known as the Spanish Tickler. It was used to rip the victim’s flesh from their bones.”

To my amazement, Elijah seemed to be enjoying the tour.

RED

Tracey H. Kitts

130

“What about this one?” He picked up an elongated pear shaped object with a golden handle.

“That’s The Pear. Are you sure you want to know what this one was used for?” I teased.

“Sure, how much worse could it get?”

I laughed as I replied, “The Pear was inserted orally, anally, or vaginally, and then,” I pressed the golden handle and watched Elijah jump as it opened, “it was expanded.”

He replaced the object to the table, careful to touch only the handle.

“Now, this one I recognize. It’s a chain whip, right?”

“Right, except with this one, the chains are pure silver.”

“And that’s a Rack.” He pointed to the object that resembled a long table with a crank along the opposite wall.

“Impressive.” I smiled. “But can you tell me what that is?” I pointed to an apparatus in the far corner that could only be described as bizarre. It looked like a stool, except there was a large silver triangle in place of the seat. Above this was a belt suspended in mid air by three chains, one attached to the ceiling, and one to each wall in the corner.

“Tell me it wasn’t used to treat hemorrhoids,” he pleaded.

“Close, but no cigar. It was known as The Judas Cradle. The victim was hoisted up with the belt and chains and lowered onto the point of the pyramid in such a way that their weight would rest on the point positioned in the anus, the vagina, under the scrotum, or underneath the last two or three vertebrae.”

“Goddamn,” he exclaimed.

“My thoughts exactly. But have you seen the one over there?” I pointed to the contraption in the other corner, down from the Rack.

“It’s familiar, but I can’t think of its name,” he answered as he walked over to get a closer look. It was a tall sarcophagus looking device that sat upright with many large spikes inside the back, and along its two doors.

“That’s The Iron Maiden. It was used more for execution than torture, since practically no one ever survived its use. The victim was placed inside and the doors were shut, impaling them on all these lovely spikes,” I added the last in response to the horrified expression on his face.

“Lovely?”

“I’m just teasing.” I snickered. “You look pale. Do you want to see the rest?”

“How many more are there?” He looked around the big room nervously.

“Just

one.”

I walked over to a small highly polished wooden platform. Along the back of this was an upright plank with a narrow seat attached. Above the seat, slightly more than shoulder height on most people was a leather strap. This strap was attached to a crank on the back of the board.

As I sat down on the device I explained its use. “This is my favorite piece of equipment,” I shared. “It’s called the Garrote. With the turn of this crank, the strap would tighten, asphyxiating the victim.”

RED

Tracey H. Kitts

131

“And why was this your favorite?”

A wicked smile spread across my lips as I answered, “You don’t want to know.”

“Ah, but it’s past our first date. Does the rule about restraints still apply?”

“I’m afraid so.” I walked to the large oak door at the back of the room. “Would you like to see the rest?”

“There’s

more?”

“Oh yeah, this is the best part.” I placed the same silver key into a door and, with a good bit of effort, slid it open.

With its thick dark wood and reinforced silver bolts, it looked like someone had ordered the door from ‘Dungeons ‘R’ Us’.

“Won’t you come in?” I offered with a melodramatic flourish of my wrist.

“I’m scared.” He laughed, but he walked through the door.

To say that the dungeon was large would have been an understatement. It covered at least two thousand square feet, making it slightly larger than Alfred’s lab. The first room beyond the door had shelves along the wall, but was otherwise bare, except for the continuation of the beautifully arched ceiling with its columns, and torches.

Elijah followed while I lit the torches in this room, also.

“Was this a library?” he asked.

“I’m really not sure, but I think so. That would explain the shelves anyway.”

“What is this exactly? It looks like a whole apartment built under here.”

“It is,” I said, leading him into the next more spacious area that must have been a bedroom.

“But why would anyone …?” He seemed at a lost for words.

“I have no idea, but wait till you see the bathroom.” I smirked.

One last door, which was a smaller version of the heavy oak, separated us from the bathroom, and I opened it with the same silver key.

“Holy shit,” Elijah laughed as we stepped inside.

“This is the only room with anything even remotely resembling modern conveniences,” I said, indicating the black marble toilet in the corner.

“Wow,” he said for the second time.

“I love this.” I walked over to the large round tub. It was set deep into the floor with what was the most beautiful collection of smooth colored rocks that I had ever seen, many of which I recognized from Richard’s rock chart. There were all varieties of quartz, amethyst, citrine, rose, tourmaline, and tiger’s eye. The range of color was amazing. It was also the only color in the room.

The entire bathroom was carved from a darker, almost black, smoky looking rock, but it was beautiful. Past the tub, which sat in the middle of the room, was what could be described best as an open shower. There was a drain in the floor and a shower head in the wall. That was pretty much it.

“I guess you don’t need a shower curtain when everything around you is rock,”

Elijah speculated as he examined the shower head.

“I guess not, but how would you explain these?”

Elijah had yet to notice the silver shackles I had indicated with my last words.

“Oh my, God.” He laughed.

RED

Tracey H. Kitts

132

I wasn’t sure how to respond other than to laugh with him. Directly beside the shower, firmly affixed to the wall were two long silver shackles that, judging by their height, had been meant to restrain the wrists.

“S & M anyone?” I offered with a laugh.

“Hey, it’s better than that Pear thing,” he pointed out.

“That’s true, but they might chain you up in here and
then
use The Pear,” I suggested nastily.

Elijah shuddered. “Let’s get out of here.”

Once we were safely back upstairs, he said, “It’s getting late, I guess I should be going.”

Again, I wasn’t sure what to say. I had enjoyed the evening, but Elijah had to go.

The fact that I was lonely without Alfred in the house gave me no right to want him to stay.

So, I smiled and said, “I’m glad you came, I had fun.”

As we walked to the front door, he asked, “What are you doing next weekend?”

“I’m

seeing

you.”

“Really? Is that a prediction of the future?”

“No, I just figured you had something in mind or you wouldn’t have asked.”

The smile he gave me made his eyes sparkle and I almost giggled. You know the giggle I’m talking about. That silly, girlish giggle we all have in high school. It’s the one that comes out involuntarily when the guy you think is gorgeous smiles at you. I hated it when a man could make me unleash that terrible giggle, but I managed to fight it this time.

“When’s the last time you played a board game?” he asked.

Well, I wasn’t expecting that.

“Why, are you
board
with me?” I responded.

“Wow, that was a really bad joke.” He snickered.

“Yeah, it was. But, to answer your question, it’s been a long time since I played any type of game.”

“Why don’t we get together next Friday night? You can invite Kat, too, if you’re afraid to be alone with me.”

“Afraid? Of what?” I teased.

“You know, not being able to resist me and all.” He laughed.

I laughed as I replied, “Actually, I think Kat would enjoy it, but don’t take my inviting her the wrong way.”

“How’s

that?”

“I can prevent myself from molesting you if I choose to.”

“Unfortunately.”

After hugging Elijah goodnight, I watched as he drove away. A storm was brewing and I could smell rain in the air. Lightening flashed in the distance as the wind began to pick up, blowing stray leaves past me into the house. Somehow the prospect of going to bed alone didn’t appeal to me at the moment. So, I decided to clean the kitchen instead. After all the dishes were put away, and the remaining wine placed in the fridge, I resigned myself to going to bed.