Immortalis Caris -- Chapter 6 - Invited
Immortalis Caris -- Chapter 6
No bad dreams last night, so he’d had better energy today at work. He’d toyed with the puzzle in his scrubs pocket all day.
Today he would talk to her.
Finally. 3:30. He changed his shirt in the parking lot. Nothing much he could do about the pants but it felt dorky to be wearing his work scrubs to someone’s house.
As he walked over to the Omega Condos, he felt his nerve waning. He stood in the courtyard for a few minutes rolling the puzzle around in his pocket. OK, Carlisle, you can do this.
He’d never been inside the building before today, and was more impressed than he thought he’d be. Sweeping circular marble lobby, lush trees in planters, recessed lighting. Surveillance cameras. Good grief. He quickly scanned the building directory, and though it was clear which residences were on the third floor, he couldn’t tell by the names and numbers which of the 10 was hers. He pressed a random 3rd floor button, and a young adult male voice answered.
“Is Dee in?” he ventured.
“Don’t know no Dee,” the bored voice said.
“Oh. Sorry. Wrong condo. She just moved in two weeks ago, I don’t know the number.”
Silence.
Shit out of luck, he thought, but then the voice returned.
“Yeah, I know who you mean, but I don’t know the number. It don’t matter, I’ll buzz you in.”
There was a click and a loud chime. Carlisle grabbed the bar on the door gratefully. Thank god for stoned, apathetic youth.
The soundless elevator glided to the third floor, and when the door opened with a low, resonant chime, he exited hesitantly onto a plush carpet patterned with a subtle omega logo design. He oriented himself, then headed towards the end of the long hallway, calculating the position of the corner apartment.
He stood in front of the wide door with its numeric keypad and laser scanner. There was a mirror right at eye level, which he guessed allowed the occupant to see the caller in the peach-lighted hallway without being seen. He was about to knock, when he heard voices from inside. An argument.
Bad timing, Carlisle, he thought, and started to back away. Then, something crashed, and there was a cry of pain, anger or both. Without thinking, he pounded on the door three times, and in the silence that ensued, he regretted it. There was no sound or movement for at least 60 seconds, and he considered just abandoning the mission. Get into the elevator. No one will know who knocked. Just as he started to back away, he heard the deadbolt softly being drawn. Too late.
The expression on the face of the man who opened the door had obviously already gone through several phases of surprise, irritation and questioning before it confronted Carlisle -- the advantage of a two-way mirror. But there was no such merciful buffer for Carlisle’s speechless confusion when he recognized Jess in front of him.
“What do you want?” Jess growled.
I am so screwed! Carlisle thought fast. “I, uh, might have some info for you. You know, what you asked me yesterday.” He kept his voice low.
The older man’s expression, though still suspicious, softened. “Yeah? Like what?”
“Meet me down at the bar about five.”
“Why can’t you tell me now?” Carlisle noticed a cut on the man’s cheek. He hoped Dee wasn’t injured as well. He wanted to call out to her, but how absurd would that be? This guy might hurt her just for knowing another guy. Just be patient. You’ll see her soon.
“Five. Canyon Bar. OK?”
“OK,” Jess nodded grudgingly. “Five. What’s in it for you?”
“A taste, what else?” Just speaking those words made Carlisle want it to be true. Carlisle moved his fingers restlessly, rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand, two of the many normally involuntary twitches that would confirm his addiction to a fellow addict.
Jess just grunted, nodding knowingly. He started to close the door. Carlisle turned to leave. “Hey!” the man suddenly called out.
Carlisle turned in response, but kept moving, backing down the hall towards the elevator.
“How did you know where I live?”
“See you at five o’clock!” Carlisle ran for the elevator.
…..ll x ll x ll x ll…..
Carlisle walked over to the hospital lobby and took a seat in the waiting room. Perfect. He could watch the entrance to the condominium complex without being seen. At 4:45, he saw Jess walking out the front door towards a pick-up truck parked at the curb. Perfect. The car took off down Central, and Carlisle headed over to the complex, this time buzzing the correct number. No voice answered on the intercom, but the door was released anyway. He anxiously retraced his earlier steps to the third floor apartment.
He knocked lightly on the door, listening carefully. After a minute, he knocked again. He touched the metal place under the door mirror and heard the internal chime. She has to be here.
“Carlisle,” came the muffled voice from within. “You really shouldn’t be here.”
Even muted, through the door, the voice drew him, held him there. He wouldn’t have been able to walk away even if she had said the words to command him to leave. He had stopped breathing to hear more clearly.
“Are you OK?” he whispered, his cheek pressed to the panel.
Again, the sound of the bolt being drawn, and again he was afraid, but this was something more complex than fear. He could hear his heart loud in his chest. You’re a mess Carlisle! What is with you? The door opened.
She wore an oriental robe, clutched about her with her strange hands, and falling to her waist was, my God! that glorious hair. It was rather disheveled, but nothing could have detracted from its beauty in his eyes at that moment. He felt stupefied, but fought through it to say simply, “I- I wanted to see you again.”
“I know,” she smiled slightly.
“Did he hurt you?” he queried, quickly examining her face, her half-exposed arms, her calves and feet below the robe. Seeing more of her body now than the day before, he was struck by how boyish she was. He found he liked her angularities even more today.
“No,” she laughed, shaking her head. “You might have noticed, he’s the one who’s hurt.” She drew an imaginary line on her cheek with her thumb. “You can come in. He’s not here.” She smiled. “But you know that. He went to the bar -- like you told him to. Thank you for not saying you knew me.”
“Your… boyfriend? Jess. You live with him?”
She examined him through those ethereal glass irises. There was a touch of humor in the gaze, and as always, that trace of... knowing... like nothing surprised her, nothing phased her. She was apparently tougher than her fragile appearance implied. A hard life, maybe. There was definitely something older about her personality. If she was with Jess, what did that say? He looked like a biker, a speed-freak for sure. This was not the kind of girl he would have expected Jess to be with.
“Does he live here? Yes. My boyfriend? No. But he’d like to think so.” She hadn’t even questioned how Carlisle had known Jess’ name. She closed the door and proceeded into the dim room. The heavy drapes were closed and the table lamps on. Carlisle could see from the edges of the curtains that the light was fading outside. She only opens them in the evening and at night, he thought. She must sleep during the day.
The room was furnished sparsely: a futon on the floor, a second-hand coffee table in front of it. A cheap curio cabinet filled with the puzzles she collected, a couple of tables, lamps. Nothing fancy. Nothing you would regret leaving behind. Maybe they moved a lot.
“I brought you something….” he handed her the box puzzle from his pocket.
“Yes,” she said, almost as if expecting it, but not at all ungrateful. She rolled it over in her hands, her mouth turning up in that irresistible crooked smile. “Good choice. I don’t have this one.”
“But you know how to solve it already.” Carlisle’s voice held a trace of disappointment.
“No, actually, I don’t.”
What a … hmmmm... touchable... mouth.
“But I will soon,” her sea-green eyes twinkled as she glanced at him teasingly.
What would it be like to press my lips to that cheek, skim that magnificent neck with my nose...
She looked at him. “Go ahead then,” she said, barely audible.
“What?” he asked, startled, blushing. It was like she’d heard what he was thinking.
“Do what you want to do.”
She stepped closer to him. He caught the scent of her hair, and moved his face closer to her head. His chest expanded in an effort to breathe her marvelous scent deep into his starving lungs. How to define it... uncured leather, sage, wet river rocks, sun-bleached sand, desert flowers, warm and cool at the same time, something too wild, too elemental, to be contained in a painted, carpeted, temperature-controlled box in the city.
He raised his hands to her face, holding it as if it would shatter, and touched his lips to hers.
Behind his closed eyes the dark came alive with streaming figures of light and shadow. He pulled away with a gasp and the visions stopped. He met her eyes in bewilderment. Her pupils were dilated, the spectacular green irises just a thin ring around them now. Instinct set off an internal alarm. He dropped his hands and stepped back from her guardedly.
“Don’t stop,” she begged.
“What… was that?” he asked shakily.
“It’s alright,” she soothed. “Kiss me, and you’ll understand soon.”
He approached her again, moving against instinct, trying to trust the calm in her expression, unable to resist his own need he saw reflected there. Their lips met again.
Again, the rush of images, but as he continued to move his lips on hers, the pictures became more coherent. Among them he saw something like his own face, but handsomer, nobler, wiser, more content. He pressed into her with his tongue, his arms encircling her, nothing real to him at that moment but her fragrance, her texture, her cacophony of colors and images.
He stopped, to clear his mind, to look at her, head thrown back, her long neck stretched out pearl-pale and inviting before him. His hands had become tangled in the molten flow of her hair. He bent to press his nose and lips to the skin of her neck, as he had imagined, and her torso moved perfectly to his as if drawn by magnetic force. He ran his tongue along the violet blood vessel that displayed itself so invitingly beneath the smooth, living white gauze that was her skin. He tasted her, then his teeth followed, grazing her clavicle, then upwards to her jaw. She shivered, whispering something incomprehensible, as if in a foreign language, yielding so fully in his arms he was supporting her completely.
He held her closer to balance himself. She was heavier than she appeared, but his limbs rallied and his cock jumped in anticipation. He moved one hand to open her robe, but she held it tightly closed, resisting him. He made a low groan of frustration which she turned into a sound more like pleasure when she reached up to gently run her tongue across his half-open lips.
“Jess is waiting, remember?” she murmured into his mouth.
“Nooooo…” This time the groan was distinct dissatisfaction.
She looked at him, stroking his face. “Do you really have something for him? Or were you bluffing?”
He looked away, creasing his forehead. “Bluffing. I got nuthin’. He’s gonna kill me. I’m sorry, I had to see you. I had to know you were OK.”
“Don’t worry.”
She smiled, extricating herself from his arms. It was agony not to be touching her, he was shocked and bereft. She went over to a cabinet, retrieving a seamless metal box. She put it on a little waist-high table and proceeded to caress it with her fingers. Suddenly one side fell open. She continued to deftly manipulate the niche she had exposed, and the whole box opened flat like unfolded origami. From the now exposed inside, she picked up a small zip-lock bag filled with whiter-than-white crystals. She offered it to him.“Give this to Jess. It will placate him for tonight.”
Carlisle’s hand would not move to accept it.
Glass. He closed his eyes. God help me.
It’s a bag of fucking glass. He felt nauseous with the rush of a hunger he had not had to face for a very long time. I WILL resist now. It’s all in my head. It’s. In. My. Mind. And I control my mind. Pretend it’s something else. Convince yourself.
“I know how hard this must be for you,” she said sympathetically.
He looked at her sharply. Is it that obvious? She can’t know what I’m feeling. She knows nothing about me, my past...
“You don’t have to take it, but it will solve your present problem... with Jess, I mean.”
This girl is either very perceptive or I’m paranoid and misreading her innocent comments. But then, she lives with an addict, right? She can probably spot one a mile away...
He forced his arm to mechanically present his open palm. She placed the tiny bag into it. He felt his knees weaken. This isn’t happening…
“Make a little small talk, give it to him. As soon as he sees it, he won’t care about anything else. And then...” she paused. “Come back to me.” He looked at her in surprise. “That will keep him away for at least 24 hours.” She smiled.
His hand closed around it, perhaps a little too tightly. He shoved his hand in his jacket pocket and let the packet drop. “Are you sure?” he asked hopefully.
“I’m sure of Jess.”
She came close and kissed him again. He turned towards the door, slightly dazed, patting his pocket with its talisman that guaranteed his return to the only place he could imagine wanting to be.
…..ll x ll x ll x ll…..
Chapter 7
No bad dreams last night, so he’d had better energy today at work. He’d toyed with the puzzle in his scrubs pocket all day.
Today he would talk to her.
Finally. 3:30. He changed his shirt in the parking lot. Nothing much he could do about the pants but it felt dorky to be wearing his work scrubs to someone’s house.
As he walked over to the Omega Condos, he felt his nerve waning. He stood in the courtyard for a few minutes rolling the puzzle around in his pocket. OK, Carlisle, you can do this.
He’d never been inside the building before today, and was more impressed than he thought he’d be. Sweeping circular marble lobby, lush trees in planters, recessed lighting. Surveillance cameras. Good grief. He quickly scanned the building directory, and though it was clear which residences were on the third floor, he couldn’t tell by the names and numbers which of the 10 was hers. He pressed a random 3rd floor button, and a young adult male voice answered.
“Is Dee in?” he ventured.
“Don’t know no Dee,” the bored voice said.
“Oh. Sorry. Wrong condo. She just moved in two weeks ago, I don’t know the number.”
Silence.
Shit out of luck, he thought, but then the voice returned.
“Yeah, I know who you mean, but I don’t know the number. It don’t matter, I’ll buzz you in.”
There was a click and a loud chime. Carlisle grabbed the bar on the door gratefully. Thank god for stoned, apathetic youth.
The soundless elevator glided to the third floor, and when the door opened with a low, resonant chime, he exited hesitantly onto a plush carpet patterned with a subtle omega logo design. He oriented himself, then headed towards the end of the long hallway, calculating the position of the corner apartment.
He stood in front of the wide door with its numeric keypad and laser scanner. There was a mirror right at eye level, which he guessed allowed the occupant to see the caller in the peach-lighted hallway without being seen. He was about to knock, when he heard voices from inside. An argument.
Bad timing, Carlisle, he thought, and started to back away. Then, something crashed, and there was a cry of pain, anger or both. Without thinking, he pounded on the door three times, and in the silence that ensued, he regretted it. There was no sound or movement for at least 60 seconds, and he considered just abandoning the mission. Get into the elevator. No one will know who knocked. Just as he started to back away, he heard the deadbolt softly being drawn. Too late.
The expression on the face of the man who opened the door had obviously already gone through several phases of surprise, irritation and questioning before it confronted Carlisle -- the advantage of a two-way mirror. But there was no such merciful buffer for Carlisle’s speechless confusion when he recognized Jess in front of him.
“What do you want?” Jess growled.
I am so screwed! Carlisle thought fast. “I, uh, might have some info for you. You know, what you asked me yesterday.” He kept his voice low.
The older man’s expression, though still suspicious, softened. “Yeah? Like what?”
“Meet me down at the bar about five.”
“Why can’t you tell me now?” Carlisle noticed a cut on the man’s cheek. He hoped Dee wasn’t injured as well. He wanted to call out to her, but how absurd would that be? This guy might hurt her just for knowing another guy. Just be patient. You’ll see her soon.
“Five. Canyon Bar. OK?”
“OK,” Jess nodded grudgingly. “Five. What’s in it for you?”
“A taste, what else?” Just speaking those words made Carlisle want it to be true. Carlisle moved his fingers restlessly, rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand, two of the many normally involuntary twitches that would confirm his addiction to a fellow addict.
Jess just grunted, nodding knowingly. He started to close the door. Carlisle turned to leave. “Hey!” the man suddenly called out.
Carlisle turned in response, but kept moving, backing down the hall towards the elevator.
“How did you know where I live?”
“See you at five o’clock!” Carlisle ran for the elevator.
…..ll x ll x ll x ll…..
Carlisle walked over to the hospital lobby and took a seat in the waiting room. Perfect. He could watch the entrance to the condominium complex without being seen. At 4:45, he saw Jess walking out the front door towards a pick-up truck parked at the curb. Perfect. The car took off down Central, and Carlisle headed over to the complex, this time buzzing the correct number. No voice answered on the intercom, but the door was released anyway. He anxiously retraced his earlier steps to the third floor apartment.
He knocked lightly on the door, listening carefully. After a minute, he knocked again. He touched the metal place under the door mirror and heard the internal chime. She has to be here.
“Carlisle,” came the muffled voice from within. “You really shouldn’t be here.”
Even muted, through the door, the voice drew him, held him there. He wouldn’t have been able to walk away even if she had said the words to command him to leave. He had stopped breathing to hear more clearly.
“Are you OK?” he whispered, his cheek pressed to the panel.
Again, the sound of the bolt being drawn, and again he was afraid, but this was something more complex than fear. He could hear his heart loud in his chest. You’re a mess Carlisle! What is with you? The door opened.
She wore an oriental robe, clutched about her with her strange hands, and falling to her waist was, my God! that glorious hair. It was rather disheveled, but nothing could have detracted from its beauty in his eyes at that moment. He felt stupefied, but fought through it to say simply, “I- I wanted to see you again.”
“I know,” she smiled slightly.
“Did he hurt you?” he queried, quickly examining her face, her half-exposed arms, her calves and feet below the robe. Seeing more of her body now than the day before, he was struck by how boyish she was. He found he liked her angularities even more today.
“No,” she laughed, shaking her head. “You might have noticed, he’s the one who’s hurt.” She drew an imaginary line on her cheek with her thumb. “You can come in. He’s not here.” She smiled. “But you know that. He went to the bar -- like you told him to. Thank you for not saying you knew me.”
“Your… boyfriend? Jess. You live with him?”
She examined him through those ethereal glass irises. There was a touch of humor in the gaze, and as always, that trace of... knowing... like nothing surprised her, nothing phased her. She was apparently tougher than her fragile appearance implied. A hard life, maybe. There was definitely something older about her personality. If she was with Jess, what did that say? He looked like a biker, a speed-freak for sure. This was not the kind of girl he would have expected Jess to be with.
“Does he live here? Yes. My boyfriend? No. But he’d like to think so.” She hadn’t even questioned how Carlisle had known Jess’ name. She closed the door and proceeded into the dim room. The heavy drapes were closed and the table lamps on. Carlisle could see from the edges of the curtains that the light was fading outside. She only opens them in the evening and at night, he thought. She must sleep during the day.
The room was furnished sparsely: a futon on the floor, a second-hand coffee table in front of it. A cheap curio cabinet filled with the puzzles she collected, a couple of tables, lamps. Nothing fancy. Nothing you would regret leaving behind. Maybe they moved a lot.
“I brought you something….” he handed her the box puzzle from his pocket.
“Yes,” she said, almost as if expecting it, but not at all ungrateful. She rolled it over in her hands, her mouth turning up in that irresistible crooked smile. “Good choice. I don’t have this one.”
“But you know how to solve it already.” Carlisle’s voice held a trace of disappointment.
“No, actually, I don’t.”
What a … hmmmm... touchable... mouth.
“But I will soon,” her sea-green eyes twinkled as she glanced at him teasingly.
What would it be like to press my lips to that cheek, skim that magnificent neck with my nose...
She looked at him. “Go ahead then,” she said, barely audible.
“What?” he asked, startled, blushing. It was like she’d heard what he was thinking.
“Do what you want to do.”
She stepped closer to him. He caught the scent of her hair, and moved his face closer to her head. His chest expanded in an effort to breathe her marvelous scent deep into his starving lungs. How to define it... uncured leather, sage, wet river rocks, sun-bleached sand, desert flowers, warm and cool at the same time, something too wild, too elemental, to be contained in a painted, carpeted, temperature-controlled box in the city.
He raised his hands to her face, holding it as if it would shatter, and touched his lips to hers.
Behind his closed eyes the dark came alive with streaming figures of light and shadow. He pulled away with a gasp and the visions stopped. He met her eyes in bewilderment. Her pupils were dilated, the spectacular green irises just a thin ring around them now. Instinct set off an internal alarm. He dropped his hands and stepped back from her guardedly.
“Don’t stop,” she begged.
“What… was that?” he asked shakily.
“It’s alright,” she soothed. “Kiss me, and you’ll understand soon.”
He approached her again, moving against instinct, trying to trust the calm in her expression, unable to resist his own need he saw reflected there. Their lips met again.
Again, the rush of images, but as he continued to move his lips on hers, the pictures became more coherent. Among them he saw something like his own face, but handsomer, nobler, wiser, more content. He pressed into her with his tongue, his arms encircling her, nothing real to him at that moment but her fragrance, her texture, her cacophony of colors and images.
He stopped, to clear his mind, to look at her, head thrown back, her long neck stretched out pearl-pale and inviting before him. His hands had become tangled in the molten flow of her hair. He bent to press his nose and lips to the skin of her neck, as he had imagined, and her torso moved perfectly to his as if drawn by magnetic force. He ran his tongue along the violet blood vessel that displayed itself so invitingly beneath the smooth, living white gauze that was her skin. He tasted her, then his teeth followed, grazing her clavicle, then upwards to her jaw. She shivered, whispering something incomprehensible, as if in a foreign language, yielding so fully in his arms he was supporting her completely.
He held her closer to balance himself. She was heavier than she appeared, but his limbs rallied and his cock jumped in anticipation. He moved one hand to open her robe, but she held it tightly closed, resisting him. He made a low groan of frustration which she turned into a sound more like pleasure when she reached up to gently run her tongue across his half-open lips.
“Jess is waiting, remember?” she murmured into his mouth.
“Nooooo…” This time the groan was distinct dissatisfaction.
She looked at him, stroking his face. “Do you really have something for him? Or were you bluffing?”
He looked away, creasing his forehead. “Bluffing. I got nuthin’. He’s gonna kill me. I’m sorry, I had to see you. I had to know you were OK.”
“Don’t worry.”
She smiled, extricating herself from his arms. It was agony not to be touching her, he was shocked and bereft. She went over to a cabinet, retrieving a seamless metal box. She put it on a little waist-high table and proceeded to caress it with her fingers. Suddenly one side fell open. She continued to deftly manipulate the niche she had exposed, and the whole box opened flat like unfolded origami. From the now exposed inside, she picked up a small zip-lock bag filled with whiter-than-white crystals. She offered it to him.“Give this to Jess. It will placate him for tonight.”
Carlisle’s hand would not move to accept it.
Glass. He closed his eyes. God help me.
It’s a bag of fucking glass. He felt nauseous with the rush of a hunger he had not had to face for a very long time. I WILL resist now. It’s all in my head. It’s. In. My. Mind. And I control my mind. Pretend it’s something else. Convince yourself.
“I know how hard this must be for you,” she said sympathetically.
He looked at her sharply. Is it that obvious? She can’t know what I’m feeling. She knows nothing about me, my past...
“You don’t have to take it, but it will solve your present problem... with Jess, I mean.”
This girl is either very perceptive or I’m paranoid and misreading her innocent comments. But then, she lives with an addict, right? She can probably spot one a mile away...
He forced his arm to mechanically present his open palm. She placed the tiny bag into it. He felt his knees weaken. This isn’t happening…
“Make a little small talk, give it to him. As soon as he sees it, he won’t care about anything else. And then...” she paused. “Come back to me.” He looked at her in surprise. “That will keep him away for at least 24 hours.” She smiled.
His hand closed around it, perhaps a little too tightly. He shoved his hand in his jacket pocket and let the packet drop. “Are you sure?” he asked hopefully.
“I’m sure of Jess.”
She came close and kissed him again. He turned towards the door, slightly dazed, patting his pocket with its talisman that guaranteed his return to the only place he could imagine wanting to be.
…..ll x ll x ll x ll…..
Chapter 7