Transcend (22 page)

I know James’s words will scare her further. I know she will know the truth.

“He looked like death. There is no way he could have survived.”

Kiera burst into tears and clung to James. Every tender word he provides, every moment of comfort, strangles the life from me. 

I take a steady breath.

And another.

Unspoken words pass between them; words that should have been ours alone to share. My body tightens as I attempt to contain my anger. For now.

…betrayer…

…kill him…

…Kiera belongs to you…

The voices scream around me. Through me. I close my eyes and focus. The voices grow louder.

Nothing will calm them.

Nothing will stop the noise.

Nothing except James.

Dead.

I open my eyes in time to see James lean into Kiera, covering her in kisses. “No,” I whisper. “No no no no.”

Kiera ends the kiss first, pulling away from James. She looks over his shoulder, straight at me.

I suck in a breath and freeze. My heart hammers too loud in my ears and I know she can see me.

“What is it?” James whispers into her neck.

“I thought I saw something. There, in the shadows.” She nods in my direction as I push deeper into the darkness. The black cloak and mask shroud me and I become part of the landscape.

The moon hides behind a patchwork of clouds, aiding my disguise. I wait for her to turn away.

James turns and looks in my direction, straining to see in the night. There is no recognition on his face.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “You’re just nervous.” He leans into her, kissing her neck again.

Kiera pulls away. “That’s not it.”

James sighs in frustration. “What is it then?”

Again I want to reveal myself, strike him where he stands.

And again, I must hold myself back.

“Ien.” Kiera sucks in a deep breath. “I think I saw him yesterday.”

“Impossible. He’s dead. You know he’s dead.” James strokes her arms. “I think your mind is playing tricks on you because of the concert. The concerto.”

“I thought that too. But now…”

“What?”

I listen, scarcely breathing.

“The letter. And there, in the shadows, I know I just saw him.” Kiera trembles as James pulls her tightly to him. “He’s watching us. I’m certain of it.”

An awkward pause envelops them as he tightens his hold on her.

And kills a piece of me.

I want to put an end to their charade, desperate to force Kiera to honor her word. And yet, my heart breaks for her and the pain and terror my presence brings. The conflict unleashes its own hell inside my chaotic mind.

“James, I don’t think we should announce our engagement. At least, not tonight. In fact, I don’t think we should be here. I have a really bad feeling about tonight. About everything.”

“We can’t leave. My family won’t allow the embarrassment.”

Tears well in Kiera’s eyes.

“Tell me about yesterday.”

I listen as Kiera speaks of our encounter, hear her describe my face and call me a devil. My cheeks grow damp as she speaks of the letter and the terror gripping her.

“I’m sorry, Kiera. I never wanted to hurt you,” I whisper. “You’ve left me no other choice.”

And she hasn’t.

Neither of them has.

James hugs her as she finishes her story, gently brushing the tears from her face.

“He’s going to kill you, James. He’s going to kill both of us.”

“Ien would never hurt either of us.”

You have no idea.

Kiera again looks my direction.

“Look, I don’t know what is going on. But I do know this.” James turns Kiera’s face toward his. “Ien is dead. Whoever wrote the letter, whoever you met last night, it isn’t Ien. That part is certain.”

“But, what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not wrong about this. And I’m not going to wait to tell the world how much I love you. Nothing is going to ruin this night, Kiera. Nothing is going to ruin our life. Not our crazy families, not the horrible face of some deranged man. And not the ghost of my best friend. We are announcing our engagement tonight.”

Kiera smiles, tears rolling down her face. “I love you so much,” she says as they again cover each other in their promises.

Their kisses end.

My pain is everlasting.

I cannot watch him take my life from me; cannot sit back and allow him to dissuade my Kiera of the truth I know still lives in her heart; will not let him make her a liar. She is promised to me.

…take the betrayer…

Only me.

…take him now…

I let the voices overrule my mind as Kiera stands and walks back to the house. James watches her leave and turns toward the cemetery. I follow every step, stalking him from the shadows.

He stops at my crypt, fingering the engraved letters that form my name. “Oh, Ien. What have you done this time? Have you somehow managed to trick death? Are you really here, waiting to claim her as yours?

“She has never belonged to you, Ien. Never.”

He lowers his head. I should be touched by the tears I see glistening on his cheek, and maybe I would’ve been before.

But not now.

Never again.

James releases a deep sigh. “No, you’re not alive. I would know. I’d feel your presence, somehow. I know I would.”

James stands and I retreat to the shadows once more. “Rest in peace, my friend. Rest in peace.”

He is no friend.

I breathe in the thoughts rising through me, feeding off the fear that still lingers. Quietly, I fall in step directly behind James. “Kiera was right,” I whisper into his ear. “I

      am

                  alive…”

29.

“He who fights with monsters might take care

lest he thereby become a monster.

And if you gaze for long into an abyss,

the abyss gazes also into you.”

~Friedrich Nietzsche

~~

The wind howls behind me. I feel James quiver from my words. My heart beats wildly, urging me to strike. There is music in my thoughts, my concerto. It plays on and on as I pull the knife from my pocket, pushing it against his back. “What? No hello for your
friend
?”

“I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but Ien is dead.”

James’s bravado will be short lived.

“I am very much alive, my friend, but I suspect you knew that.”

The wind continues to moan as I lean in closer to James. “You thought you’d get away with this, didn’t you? You thought you could just replace me, take over my life? First you convince Mother that you can save my family’s business. And now you steal Kiera from me. Tell me, was this your plan all along?” I whisper the words in his ear, feeling the chill that cascades down his back. “What’s wrong? Didn’t think I’d live long enough to see the truth? Now, walk.”

I guide James to a shed behind the mausoleum. Throwing him down to the floor, I scan the space for something to secure his legs and arms with. Rope. Perfect. I wrap the rope around his limbs as he struggles against my grasp. But he is no match for the strength of my hatred.

“Well? Have you nothing to say?”

James stares long. Confusion, rage, fear all pass through his eyes. I drink it in, allowing his anguish to fuel my resolve. I want him to suffer as I have, to experience the pain of losing everything.

I place the knife against his throat. “Really, James? Is this all? I expected so much more from you.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” He spits the words through clenched teeth.

“The truth.”

“Fine, the truth. Ien is dead and I have no idea who you are.”

“You know exactly who I am!” The rage builds through me. “Now, I am telling you to leave Kiera alone. She is betrothed to me.”

“Ien?”

I laugh. “Ien,” I mock. “I must say, I am very disappointed in you, James. Would you really refuse to admit who I am? Especially since you are the reason I have become…” I rip the mask from my face “This!”

A gasp escapes James’s mouth, followed by fragments of words. “You…died. Mother…promise…gone.”

“I know. It is quite shocking, what I’ve become.” I grab James’s chin and bring my face closer so he can examine every protruding piece of bone and hardened shred of skin. “What do you think of your masterpiece? Does it look different than what you expected?”

“What are you talking about, Ien?” He pulls out of my grasp, his eyes wide with shock. “I had no idea that you lived. Your mother said—”

“Don’t tell me what Mother said!” I growl. “I know exactly the lies she told the world.”

“Ien, if I had known—”

“What? You would have finished the job yourself?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” The color drains from James’s face.

“What is it then? What exactly would you have done?”

“If I thought I could have helped you I would have. You know that. I’ve always been there for you.”

“Have you? Was comforting Kiera part of helping me? When did you decide to take her from me, James? Before or after I told you I wanted to marry her?”

James is quiet.

“Oh, I see. You’ve loved her from the beginning. Tell me, did she love you in return?”

Again he is silent.

“Is that why you tried to kill me?”

“I never wanted this, Ien. Never wanted you to get hurt. If I had known that you were alive…”

“What? You would’ve been more discreet about Kiera? You would’ve saved me instead of letting Mother tell the world I was dead? Did you know she sent me away? Did you know she tried to force them to end my life? Did you, James?” My voice is too loud. Too erratic.

I take a breath.

And another.

My pulses slows. But not my rage.

Never my rage.

“I didn’t know about any of this. You have to believe me.” James writhes away from me.  

The scene speeds into a frenzy. James pulls and tugs on the bindings, fraying the old rope. He frees himself and pushes against me. The knife flies from my hands, landing on the floor. His fist connects with my jaw before I understand what is happening.

I spin.

Turn.

Fall.

James runs from the shed.

I catch up to him beside a headstone, grabbing a piece of his jacket as he tries to escape. I pull him to the ground. But his jacket tears under the strain and he is again free.

Knife in my hand, I slash at the space, catching his skin. He groans and faces me.

“You won’t take Kiera from me, James,” I say as I continue to swing the knife.  

“She was never yours in the first place, Ien. You have it all wrong.”

“Liar!”

“We thought you were dead.”

I lunge at him, dragging the blade against his arm. He releases a feral moan and I grab a hold of his arms and pull him toward me, the knife now at his throat.  

“She broke no promise.” The phase scrapes against his lies. “We thought you were dead.”

My mind reels with his words, collapsing in on itself. They sting my skin, slashing away pieces of me. “Silent! I do not want to hear anything from your treacherous mouth. Not now.” I release my hold as my mind goes black.

“Ien, you’re confused.”  James makes no move against me.

I step back from him, refusing to acquiesce. “No! I know what happened. I won’t listen to you.” I continue to back away, my thoughts chaotic. “She said yes. She promised herself to me. I was there.

“No she didn’t, Ien. You’re wrong.”

He lies.

My mind begins to spin.

“Ien?”

Don’t listen to him anymore. The betrayer lies.

I replay the proposal—Kiera and the ring. The
yes
I felt on her lips.

“She said yes,” I yell. “I know she said yes.”

Kiera will always love you. Only you.

“I. Was. There.” I scream.

“Ien?” James reaches out to me. “Please. Let me help you.”

“No!” I charge at James, too blinded by his kindness to think.

The voices become louder and louder, urging me to strike. Commanding me to take my revenge.

I slash the spaces around me, lost in the noise.

The madness.

Blood splatters against my face and shirt. It covers my arms and hands in a crimson vengeance. I hear his screams as I gash the air, his body, his face.

“Ien, please!”

More more more.

Take more.

I’m consumed by the voices, compelled to follow their every instruction.

“Stop—”

Never stop.

More.

Kill.

I jab the knife forward until I feel the blood—his blood—streaming down my arm. I think of nothing but the release his terror brings.

I need more from him.

More pain, more anguish.

More relief.

Stab again.

Take it all.

The pleadings stop. James crumbles to the ground. There is no movement, no words, no breath. And I am greeted by

silence.

      Again…

30.

“I am in blood.

Stepped in so far that, should I wade no more,

Returning were as tedious as go o’er.”

~William Shakespeare (Macbeth)

~~

James falls next to the grave, unmoving. I feel no sorrow. No guilt.

No relief.

“…we thought you were dead…”

“…she broke no promises…”

The words, James’s words, spring to life and consume me. They carve away at my resolve like knives. Over and over they repeat, forcing away the silence I crave.

“No!” I say to the stone tombs. “I’m not wrong. I’m not wrong!” My voice shakes the ground.  

You are not wrong.

You are never wrong.