Beyond the Prophecy

Every move I made as I slept my body’s soreness woke me up, but trying to rise the following morning was worse. Stirring even something as small as a finger took a lot of tolerance, and even breathing made me want to cry out. If I can’t even breathe regularly, then how can I go to the meeting with the record company? I should’ve let Chris heal me. This is a shitty way to start the day.

Leda hopped onto my bed and brushed herself against me; a gesture that forced me to bite my lower lip and, though it hurt, clench the sheets. I appreciated her affection but not when I felt like this.

“Dia Dhuit, Leda. Sorry, I can’t pet ya because I can’t move. Do me a favor and get Chris for me, will ya?”

…Okay, I’ll get up on the count of three. One, two, three—Aaaahhh bad idea bad idea! Holy shit that’s not going to work. Fuuuuuck. I seriously can’t move! Am I that out of shape? I can’t believe that fight hurt me that badly.

A smile came on my face when she brushed her paw on my palm, but my smile faded as soon as her paw glowed. Every ache in my body began to subside, and by the time her paw stopped glowing the pain had diminished completely. Moving no longer made me want to scream. I was pain-free.

“Leda…ya healed me. Good girl!” I said when I embraced and petted her affectionately in gratitude. “You’re so smart. You’re such a sweet girl, helping me out like that,” I said in my pet voice. When she rolled onto her back and exposed her belly, I laughed. I could feel her purring as I rubbed her belly. “You’re the best kitty in the world. Yes ya are.” Her limbs twitched as she stretched, but then she rose to her feet immediately when my phone went off.

“Hello?”

“Morning rock star. Guess what today is!”

“Hey Ava. I’m excited too but I’m still half asleep, so could you lower your voice a bit?”

“Oh crap, did I wake you?”

“Nah, my paralysis did.”

“…You don’t mean that literally, right?”

“I do actually, but it’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell ya about it when we meet up.”

“You mean during practice? Or did you forgot about it too like the guys did? They drank so much the other night that I’m surprised they’re still capable of thought. In Jason’s case, thinking is hard even when he’s sober, but still. You’re actually better at holding your liquor than they are.”

“Of course I am; I’m Irish.” I heard her chuckle before I sighed. “I want to practice, I really do, but there’s somewhere I want to go before the meeting.”

“Any place I know? I can meet you there.”

“…Yeah. Saint Bridgid’s Cathedral.” There was silence on her end but I spoke before she could. “I have to get ready, so I’ll talk to ya then.”

Once I hung up the phone, I glanced at the bedside alarm clock. 9:07am. The Pandemonium meeting wasn’t until 2:00pm. Since I had plenty of time to get there, I took a slow shower and dressed even slower.

In order to match the occasion, I dressed in a professional garb: a swing top camisole that was mauve pink and lined in gray, black fitted trousers and a black trench coat with white stitching. A leather hobo bag that matched my shirt and black leather booties completed the look.

I purposely wore those shoes because the heels were only two inches high. The last thing I want is to intimidate anyone when they’re giving my band and me a record deal, and my height alone can be absolutely threatening. Men are prideful like lions, and a woman that towers over them takes some of that smugness away, which makes them work twice as hard to get it back. I wanted things to go smoothly, so if wearing the lowest heels I own helps make that happen then I’d wear them proudly.

With my hair left loose in its natural curls, I slipped on assorted rings and bracelets, and when I began slipping on my earrings a familiar crunching sound made me smile. Turning in the direction of the sound, I saw Leda eating out of her pet feeder. The automatic dispenser attached to it was running low on food, and unfortunately, the portion left in the cat food bag wasn’t enough to fill it.

“I feel like you’ve been eating more food than usual Leda. Is there something you’re not telling me? You’re not pregnant, are ya?”

She kept eating as if I hadn’t spoken. Although I was only slagging her, it had me wondering if her newfound hunger stemmed from her transformation. The tip of her tail split even more since her change began, I noticed. I pondered about the possibility of even more changes developing, and what they might be, making a mental note to check the book on nekomata that was still sitting on my dresser when I return.

Kyle stepped out of his room, which was at the other end of the hall, just when I stepped out of mine. “Howya,” I greeted. “Any idea where Chris’s room is?”

“Uh-huh, It’s upstairs,” he directed. “Take the closest staircase to your room and turn to the right. The double doors at the end of that hall are the entrance to his room.”

“Thanks. By the way, when ya or anyone else goes to the supermarket let me know. There are a few things I need to get.”

“Sure. Just write a list and leave it on the fridge for us.”

“Gotcha.”

I ate a light breakfast and headed towards Chris’s room soon after.

It was bigger than my room, though it was hard to see much of anything in the near darkness that shrouded it. Luckily there was enough light shining through the shades to keep me from slamming into any furniture on my way to his bed. It was nearly 12:00pm and he’s still sleeping. He’s really not a morning person, is he?

The sight of him made me feel like I was in a sweets shop ogling at the delicious candy before me. His marvelously sculpted back was exposed for the world to see, and his sheets lied low enough to hint that he wore absolutely nothing under the covers. My eyes traced every curve, every nook and cranny it can detect, but then I shook my head to help me snap out of it. What the hell’s the matter with me? Am I only lusting after him?

Then I recalled the quick kiss he gave me last night, if that even counts as a kiss. I touched my lips with my hand and closed my eyes, the sensation of his lips pressed against mine still fresh in my mind as if it just happened. My heartbeats picked up so much speed that I could feel it without looking for my pulse. The room felt warmer, and my palms began to sweat. I wanted that possible-kiss to last even longer. I started daydreaming about what a real kiss would be like: to feel his lips pressed against mine even more and for a lot longer than a few seconds, to be in his arms as his hand gently caressing my cheek, to look into those beautiful ice blue eyes that expresses so much strength, and at the same time can carry a softness and warmth… Nah…what I feel is so much more than lust. I really do like him. I can’t let it rule me though, in case he decides to take advantage of it.

I didn’t have time to think about it further, so I needed to stick to the task at hand. Just when I reached out to tap Chris on his back to wake him, he turned so that he faced up. Gasping loudly, I retracted my hand and turned around instantly. Blood rushed to my face as the sound of my rapid heartbeats vibrated throughout my body. Yep, he’s definitely naked. It was confirmed after I saw his…twig and berries. Geez what’s he doing sleeping with his langer all exposed like that? And why can’t I stop looking back at it? Jaysus, he’s bigger than my ex…What the hell am I saying?

“Chris,” I said, swatting his arm and keeping my eyes focused on his face, “Get up. I need a favor.”

He groaned, “Five more minutes.”

“No, now.”

“Let me be. I want to sleep.”

“Come on Chris, get yer ass up. I’m in a hurry.”

Since he gave no effort to rise, I grabbed one of his pillows and pucked him in the face with it. I had to strike him two more times, each time harder than the last, before he reacted.

“What the fuck?!”

“Up!”

Immediately after sitting, Chris snatched the pillow from me and glare. “What’s this about?”

“First, cover yerself up. I don’t need to see yer family jewels.”

He took one look at himself and pulled the sheets close enough to cover the vital areas without a hint of embarrassment. Maybe I should’ve been surprised by his shameless behavior, but I really wasn’t. He’s cocky, in more ways than one in this case, so of course he was brazen.

“You’ve already seen them though, haven’t you? The ‘family jewels’ I mean,” he stated before grabbing a small remote and pushing a button on it, causing the blackout shades to rise automatically.

I blinked a few times in attempt to adjust to the sunlight and shrugged. “That wasn’t my intention. Ya turned while ya slept and then Bam! It was there. I looked away after that.”

Smirking, he slid to the edge of the bed while being careful about keeping the lower half of his body covered. “But you glanced back and didn’t look away. As a matter of fact,” he continued, grabbing a pair of boxer briefs from his nightstand and slipping it on in the process, “I believe you also compared me to your ex-boyfriend.”

My jaw dropped. “How do ya even know—?”

“Telepathy. Don’t forget. And the emotions I picked up from you denote a satisfaction of what you saw.”

Crossing my arms, I admitted, “So I’m physically attracted to ya. So what? Don’t let it go to yer head. And I told ya before to stay out of mine.”

“Your most recent thoughts related to me. I had a right to know.”

“Then ask me. Let me get a chance to talk before ya pull it from my head.”

“Very well,” and with that he stood and walked out of the bedroom.

Even though I dropped the topic, I knew it wouldn’t be that simple. Pacing towards the bathroom, I opened my mouth to speak but then paused when I saw a tattoo on his back, just below his neck. Why haven’t I noticed it before? He was in the middle of brushing his teeth when I asked him about it.

“It’s not a tattoo, it’s a coat of arms that represents what my family, as monarchs, stand for.”

“What does each symbol mean? If ya even remember what it looks like.”

I saw him smile in the mirror. “Inside the shield is a cross Moline that symbolizes society. Behind it yet still inside the shield is a chevron, the one that looks like an upside down ‘V,’ which represents protection. Above the shield is a knight’s helmet that means strength. The wings on each side of the helmet are for swiftness. The crown sitting on the helmet denotes authority, the crescent above it signifies honor and the sword that’s behind the entire image stands for justice.”

“What about the symbol on each side of the shield? They look like elephant trunks.”

“They’re called proboscides. They represent royalty.”

“Are ya the only one who chose to get this tattooed?”

“It was an obligation. Everyone in my family has this crest somewhere on their body, including Emily.”

“Ya let yer little sister get tattooed? It must have hurt her like a bitch.”

He smiled again. “As I stated before, it’s not a tattoo. Blood relatives are born with the crest, while those that become part of the family through other means must go through a ritual in order to have it marked on the body painlessly with magic, not with needles. It’s more permanent than a tattoo and doesn’t alter even if your body changes.”

“I see.” Without thinking, I reached towards it but then stopped. “May I?” With a nod from him, I allowed my fingers to touch the mark.

Usually the skin is a little raised where the tattoo is marked, but there wasn’t a single difference between how the mark felt and how his skin, his incredibly soft skin, felt. I should’ve stopped then and there, but I couldn’t help myself. My fingers traced every little mark of the crest without lifting off his back. It wasn’t until I traced the whole thing and started from the beginning again that I realized how much it was affecting him too. At first he brushed his teeth at a slower pace, but when it slowed to a stop, his shoulders relaxed and his eyes started to close.

What are you doing? he asked.

I wanted to see if it felt anything like a tattoo, which it doesn’t.

Stop it.

I smirked. Why? Because it feels good?

Yes.

My smirk grew a little more. When was the last time someone touched ya like this?

…I can’t recall.

I pressed my fingers against his skin with a little more pressure. This time, not only did I run my fingers along the mark but I also slid them down to his lower back, following the path of his spinal cord. His free hand moved to the counter to help him stay balanced while the other gripped the toothbrush. I wanted to run my hands all over his muscular back at a fast pace, but what I wanted more was to tease him. Using both hands this time, my fingers brushed over every muscle and bone on his back that I could find. Judging by the how much he struggled to keep his upper body from falling forward, it was working. As much as my light touches had an effect on him, just looking at his body had an effect on me.

My wicked eyes began to wander again, and they were anything but discrete. It took a great deal of control to keep myself from wiping away the water that saturated those luscious lips of his and devouring them whole. I wanted to run my fingers across his chiseled jaw and to smooth my hands over his lean chest and the ripples of his abdomen. My eyes moved back upwards a little, to see the muscles of his arm flexing over and over again as he brushed his teeth. I could only imagine what it would feel like to have those arms tightly wrapped around me as he pressed his body against mine, barely leaving room to breathe, while I slide my hands down to his tight, round ass that was unfortunately covered by his gray boxer briefs. And those brawny legs, working hard in keeping him steady…

Seriously, can I think of nothing else? I need soak myself with ice water right about now. Or maybe what I need is a big, soap opera-type of slap to help me snap out of it.

The moment I glanced back up my eyes met his in the mirror. There was a smirk in them, joining the upward curve of his lips. Oh God, he knew everything I was thinking about. I felt a little embarrassed for a moment, but then thought, fuck it. He was already aware, so why hide it? Smirking, I shrugged and shook my head before looking away.

“Hey Chris,” I began, leaning against the counter beside him with my back facing the mirror, “last night, after ya cleaned my wounds and fed from me a little…that thing ya did right after, the ‘testing the waters’ thing…would ya consider that a kiss?”

“How did you manage to heal so quickly?” he asked after rinsing his mouth with water for a second time.

“Leda healed me when I woke up. Don’t change the subject.”

After patting his face dry with a hand towel, he ran his fingers through his tousled hair with a sigh. Damn, even with his hair looking like he just got electrocuted, he’s still sexy. “No, it wasn’t a kiss.”

“So then if ya do something like that then how am I supposed to tell what one from ya is supposed to be like?”

He turned to face me and then, with a leisure stride, approached me with a lascivious gaze. Slowly, one of his hands moved to my cheek while the other sat on the counter and assisted him in moving even closer to me. I breathed in deeply and released a shaky breath at his tender touch.

“Because…” he practically whispered just before brushing his thumb across my lips. I took in another unsteady breath. “If I had truly kissed you then you wouldn’t be questioning it.” My eyes glanced at his lips when they came dangerously close to mine. “And…it wouldn’t have been over so soon.” Neither of us moved or said a word until I broke the silence.

“Are ya flirting with me?”

“No.” He looked away when I gazed straight into his eyes and arched my eyebrow. “Maybe a little.”

I smirked. “Does that mean you’re attracted to me too?”

“You’re a beautiful woman.”

“I know, but that still doesn’t answer my question.”

As usual, he didn’t answer. If only that emotion-sensing power of his worked both ways. Since it doesn’t, maybe I can “test the waters” myself.

“If there’s a difference between a fake kiss from ya and a real one, then show me. Make me stop questioning it.” The tone of my voice became more and more sensual with every word I said. “Kiss me passionately.” My hand slid down to his chest, causing him to blink slowly and me to smile a little. “Press my body close to yours while you’re at it.” I kissed him softly and slowly on his cheek, just beside his lips, and whispered, “Don’t fight it.”

He held my gaze for longer than most men do. They usually go from my eyes and work their way down, but he kept them fixed. The pupils were dilated more than they should be for being in the light. Was it because it was a vampire thing or because it was a biological thing? I broke the gaze when my eyes closed at the feel of his hands on my waist. They glided down to my hips until they moved underneath my shirt and directly onto my skin. It sent a chill down my spine while butterflies flapped in my stomach. Though my eyes were still closed, I felt it get a little darker and sensed his face closer to mine. Feeling his minty breath move smoothly across my lips, my breath quickened and my lips parted in anticipation. The second I thought he’d close the distance between us, he pulled away.

“Please leave. I need to bathe.”

I opened my eyes, only to see that he was already making his way towards the bathtub. Damn. “Should I take that as a ‘no’ then?”

“Consider it a complement that I was even tempted.”

I smiled and walked towards his room. He might not have kissed me, but that wasn’t why I acted that way towards him. True, I love knowing I can get a man, especially one like Chris, to respond to my advances, and I would’ve loved it if he actually kissed me, but what I really wanted to know was if he saw me in a different light than when we first met. Flirting is one thing, but he stopped himself from going further. If he was only physically attracted to me then we’d probably be shifting by now. But he might have stopped himself because what he sees in me is deeper than that. Ugh, maybe I was over-analyzing his behavior too much.

Stepping into his room while the sunlight illuminated it was like walking into a gallery: mostly white, minimalistic and contemporary. Since Chris was showering, now was as good a time as any to take a look around and see what kind of stuff he’s into. The room had four windows, so I chose to climb onto the grass-colored seating attached to one bay window to check out the view. All I saw was a stretch of land that lead up to the forest; nothing but grass and trees everywhere. There’s nothing wrong with that, but all that land would be perfect for a garden or a greenhouse like the one my family had in Lusk.

I sat on one of the two green seats beside the window and propped my feet up on the round table in between them. Comfy, but not too soft; the cushion had a decent amount of firmness. The platform bed on the other side of the room looked even more inviting so I rushed towards it and lied down. Now, this is a cushion. To my surprise, it was even softer and conformed to the shape of my body even when I changed my position. Mmm, I can lie in this bed all day. Unfortunately, I was running out of time.

The dresser was next; its counter was completely bare. Most of the drawers contained neatly folded t-shirts, sweatpants and sleepwear, but the top held his grooming products. Out of curiosity I chose to sniff a few of his colognes, starting with the one in a little gold bottle. It was a musky scent that was practically intoxication, but if he drenches himself in it then it’ll be way too strong. The cologne in the blue bottle reminded me of the ocean; a light, salt water and rain water scent mixed with freshly washed linens. As sexy as the musk cologne was, I think I liked the blue one more.

His walk-in closet was like one of those stores you couldn’t just walk into but instead had to make an appointment first. Despite the fact that the lighting was controlled by a dimmer switch, the natural sunlight that shone through made everything look even more luxurious. Everything was displayed neatly and grouped by item type, and then by color. Was this really a man’s closet?

From what I’ve noticed, a lot of his clothing was surprising in neutral hues, and he seemed to favor wearing button down shirts and t-shirts with little to no graphics. Slacks and dark-colored denims also showed up more often than any other pant.

Stepping out of his closet, I spotted a framed photo I didn’t notice before, sitting on a nightstand. To my surprise, it was a family portrait. I’ve never seen his family before, but I saw the resemblance they all had in each other. Chris’s eyes were lighter than his dad’s, but he shared the same hair color as his mom. His older sister had her mother’s eyes and bone structure. Most of them were fair-skinned, but the youngest had the same olive tone as me. She was the one that looked like everyone else the least; dark blonde, wavy hair, heart shaped face as opposed to the oval shape of everyone else, and big, expressive dark brown eyes instead of the thinner blue- or hazel-colored eyes that the others had. Despite all this, the female that I truly couldn’t stop staring at was the mother. Why? Because I recognized her.
“Jacqueline,” I said to myself.

Ma always called her Jackie, and they were best friends. I often regarded her more like an aunt because she looked after me as family would. Whenever I needed advice that I was too afraid to ask my parents for, I could always count on her. The last time I saw her was when I lived in Ireland. Her wavy hair may have been shorter in this photo, but her face was the same. Jackie was Chris’s mother? The fact that I saw her often when I grew up means that there was a good chance I’ve met Chris before too. But why don’t I remember?

I took a deep breath but gasped when my eyes landed on an oil painting directly in front of me. The illustration captured a scene of children playing soccer on a grassy field. They were filled with life and vibrancy, especially the little girl up front and nearly center. Her long, red curls flapped in the wind as she kicked the ball away from the opposing team. This painting…I’d recognize it anywhere. It was a painting of my friends, my sister and me, created by my ma.

“Oh my God, Curly Fries…” I whispered.

Its name came from my sister, when she giggled and told her that my hair looked like it was made of it. The title was even written on the bottom corner of the painting, opposite her signature. Why was this here?

“What are you doing?” asked Chris, making me jump into place.

I glanced from him to my hands, only to notice that the family photo was no longer in them. Somehow, while I was concentrating on the painting, I dropped it on the hardwood floor and it cracked. I picked it up right away and placed it where it belongs.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he stated as he walked in my direction. “I’ll just have it replaced.”

When he reached for another pair of boxer briefs I turned immediately. “Chris, where did ya get the Curly Fries painting from?”

“The artist gave it to me.”

I rapidly turned to him and said, “You’ve met my ma before?”

“Yes, on more than one occasion.”

“How is that possible? I mean, we’ve never even met before until recently. Ya knew my ma somehow, and I’ve known yer ma since I was born.” I pointed to the family portrait when I said, “That’s Jackie. That was ma’s best friend. But how can we know each other’s ma and never meet?”

After he slipped into a pair of dark gray trousers, he turned and said, “Are you certain?”

I gave him a quick nod. “I don’t remember ya.”

“Take a closer look at the painting. Perhaps there’s another image you subconsciously bypassed.”

Tentatively, I stood in front of the painting once more but nothing stood out. The children were engaged in the game, and my parents were in the background watching with a smile. Jackie was there with them, beside a man that looked like her husband in the family portrait — Wait…There’s someone sitting a little behind Jackie. It was hard to see any details, so I moved even closer. Little by little, my mind pieced the image together. When it became clear who it was, my hands moved to cover my mouth.

“My older sister Gaby was the one that photographed this scene,” Chris told me. “Your mother painted it once she received a copy of it.”

“Ya were there…We have met before…” I uttered before looking at him. “How long have ya known me?”

“You wouldn’t remember.”

“How long? Give me a straight answer,” I demanded.

Hesitantly, he told me, “Since the day after you were born.”

________________________________________

Dia dhuit: Gaelic for “hello”
Slagging: Slang for “to make fun of”
Langer: Penis
Cross Moline: A design element that looks like a cross, but each end of it is forked and curl at the tip
Shifting: Slang for “making out”