More Than Words: Kissed By A Muse #3 (18 page)

‘But like you said,’ Ryan whispered. ‘They’re gods- they’re relevant but I was only ever a mortal who-’

‘Won one heart.’ Imogen said softly, her eyes shining. ‘Millions of women fell for you because of The Hardest Fall, but one girl recognised the man behind the character as a soul mate, and loved him so devoutly that six months after the book was published, he returned.’

Ryan’s heart felt like a thunderhead in his chest. ‘Leigh.’

Imogen nodded and then opened her hands- revealing a piece of paper. ‘I’ve been researching her since yesterday- I KNEW there was something about her, an ancient soul who has come back time and time again and could truly bloom under my guidance- and found this bit of fan-fiction. It’s an epilogue for The Hardest Fall… it takes place right after the second last chapter.’ The paper shivered in Ryan’s hands when Imogen handed it to him. ‘In it, Ryan goes over the edge of Niagara Falls, but doesn’t die. He washes downstream, and into the arms of a girl who was sitting on the riverbank, reading. He falls in love with her at first sight and she with him… and Kylie gets a transplant from someone else and ends up with Justin.’ She wrinkled her nose when Ryan looked up, shocked. ‘Yes I know, it’s cheesy as hell but-’

‘I love it.’ Ryan stared down at the words, but they shimmered and blurred behind his tears.

‘It was published the day I saw the bolt of lightning hit the falls, Ryan,’ Imogen said softly. ‘Six months ago I was in my house, trying to track someone online who I’d been interested for in a while to see if they needed me to come back… when I saw the lightning from the tower and felt this compulsion to run to the river. I knew exactly where to go and there you were- washed up on the side, returned as a human and so badly injured from the un-cushioned fall that I was terrified that you wouldn’t make it. After that, I kept you near, trying to wrap my head around what I’d done and what would become of you, for three months before I realised that so long as you had me to love and care for, you wouldn’t attempt to leave my side, and as deeply as I love you now Ryan, your destiny isn’t meant to be linked to mine eternally.’ She scratched her head and made a face. ‘Besides, I hate posing as an old lady. That’s no fun at all.’

‘So you faked your death?’ he asked, frowning. It was unsettling to know that he’d bonded with Imogen, almost to the degree that he’d bonded with Calliope only to be cast off by both. He was like the muses plaything!

‘Yes, and I asked my sister Clio keep in contact with you, posing as my elderly sister in Greece. I thought you’d make a nice little life for yourself, but I couldn’t sense you once I left. You are truly mortal now, you see, demi-god no longer so I was genuinely shocked when our paths crossed yesterday. I’d assumed that you would have found the book and the papers right after I died, and would have taken off or something. But there you were- with a girl who was a big enough fan of that book to chase you and put ideas in your head…’ she cringed. ‘I was worried about how you’d take the news as a surprise instead of just finding my letter, so I followed you yesterday after you left us- I tracked you all the way to Vegas and when I realised that Calliope was there too… god.’ She pressed her hand to her heart. ‘I didn’t know what seeing her would do to you, and I was terrified!’

‘Seeing ‘her’?’ Calliope asked cattily. ‘Jesus Imogen, you make it sound like I’m a plague upon him! Ryan or rather Ardos, was mine, and I’ll remind you that I died for him in the end! I know it was too late but-’

‘This isn’t about you or who he belongs to,’ Imogen snapped. ‘The Harmony had him wash up at my feet- not yours, and fate had you save his life last night while I saved hers- but those minor accomplishments are where our connection with him ends, don’t you see? He’s meant to be with Honey, only now that we’re involved… I don’t know what The Harmony will do!’

Ryan stared at her, dread creeping back into his heart once more. ‘You think The Harmony will punish me for having crossed paths with Calliope again?’

‘Mortals aren’t supposed to know about us Ry. They can dream- but to be told?’ Imogen closed her eyes and seemed to shake off something dark. ‘You came back without your memories for a reason and now that seeing her has brought them all back-’

‘Then you should have told me that he was alive, so I’d know to avoid him!’ Calliope jumped to her feet, looking vexed. ‘You shouldn’t have kept this secret from me!’

‘Tell me that you would have left him alone, if you’d known that he was back!’ Imogen also got to her feet, her eyes and tone accusatory as the century-old rivalry blazed anew over Ryan’s head. ‘It’s just as dangerous for you to try and carve out an existence with Hunter, without accepting father’s offer to make him a demi-god so that he can be safe. Hunter’s going to work it out one day, and lord knows how The Harmony will punish you both for trying to have a perfect life on earth and then as immortals afterwards!’

‘Hunter’s destiny is to be a rock star and that is what he is doing! You call me selfish for staying by his side instead of forcing him to die so that we can be together, Imogen, but yanking him from the spotlight while he’s dominating it just so I can keep him all to myself is every bit as self-serving!’

‘Tell yourself that Calliope but you and I are cut from the same egotistical cloth. You never took the chance to stay with one of your more successful wards before and live within their love and fame and now that you have- you’re in love with the lifestyle! You want to be the rock star’s wife for as long as humanly possible, even though you know that it’s asking for too much- and you wonder why I didn’t risk Ryan’s second chance at life on you as well?’ She wrung her hands. ‘Zeus has guaranteed Hunter’s immortality for the good things he has done with his success- you could leave him now and wait for his life to come to an end but you won’t because YOU love the attention!’

‘Me? Ha! What about you? If I vanish it will break Hunter! But you’ve got no mortal ties binding you to this earth- only the pursuit of success!’ Calliope gave her sister a dirty look. ‘At least I’ve accepted that my time is coming to an end and that Rya will have to take over from me soon, but you haven’t done more than shuffle towards your own fate! So where do you get off calling me an attention seeker? At least I’m lingering for love, not vanity! Bloody hell, Hunter and I have only been reunited for a little while! Is a year or two as humans so much to ask after all we’ve been through?’

Ryan groaned and buried his face in his hands. Were they seriously going to do this?

‘I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?’ Imogen asked scathingly. ‘The point is that you have a choice and if you believe that Hunter loves you as dearly as you want to and can justify staying by his side because you want to be with him, you wouldn’t hesitate to ask him to leave his success to live by your side forever and let Rya step in.’

‘Rya is eight years old!’

‘So? You and I were not much older than she when we were blessed with our powers. She can handle being the muse of music- you’re just not ready to release the title yourself.’

‘Well you’re just as bad! You and Clio have both mothered children with mortals before and then abandoned them so they wouldn’t look into your eyes and come into their own! At least I’ve held onto mine, knowing she’ll be the musical death of me!’

‘Yes, Clio and I are definitely the most selfish,’ Imogen said bluntly, and then gestured to Ryan. ‘But his return does justify my cause, don’t you think? If you’re more resentful of the display of my growing power, than grateful for his life- then you better hand over the reins to Rya now before you lose heart again.’

Calliope paled. ‘I am NOT that woman any more!’

‘And Honey, I miss you…’

‘Well, who are you? The muse willing to do whatever it takes right now to keep Harmony in balance and him alive, or the jealous shrew who would rather see him dead, then happy with someone else?’

‘I don’t believe that someone could love him more than I did!’ Calliope exclaimed tearfully. ‘Your explanation for his return sounds like far-fetched nonsense to me! I know you like to think the worst of me Imogen, but I died for him!’

‘… If only I could…’

‘It only sounds like nonsense because you don’t have Ryan’s capacity to believe in love, or my imagination to fathom the miracles love can work! She brought him back because she loved him more than you ever did, Calliope- and every second he spends here away from her while she sits in that hospital room alone-’

‘Wait... what? What hospital?’ Ryan looked up. ‘How bad is she?!’

‘She’s okay,’ Imogen turned back to him. ‘But she’s heartbroken. She thinks you’ve abandoned her! I told her not to lose heart- that you’d return the second you could but I don’t think she believed me and time is passing-’

‘Oh my god! How much time?’ Ryan couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten what it meant to be on Helicon as a mortal, and how he’d once worked that to his advantage to buy time with Calliope, but he remembered now and his blood ran cold. ‘It only feels like ten minutes for me!’

Imogen winced. ‘Well, that’s not too bad… Calliope can get back to her daughter by bedtime but for you and Leigh, a few weeks must have-’

‘Oh my god!’ Calliope’s hand took Ryan’s. ‘Ryan I’m so sorry! I forgot!’

Ryan thought he was going to drop dead of fright. ‘Two weeks? She’s been waiting for me to-’ his voice broke and he jerked his hand free from Calliope’s. It was one thing for him to be thrown off by all that had transpired, but Calliope and Imogen should have taken him back to earth to explain themselves, and he was furious with them both for getting so wrapped up in their rivalry that his life had frittered away. He whirled on Imogen and held out his hand. ‘Take me back-now,’ he growled. He went to say that he didn’t want to hear another word on that plane- not an apology or a plea for forgiveness, but then everything vanished and he was hurtling through nothingness, holding onto only enough of his consciousness to beg The Harmony to punish Imogen and Calliope and him- not Leigh. But he knew it was a pointless prayer. He’d left her and broken every promise he’d made her, and there wasn’t an imagination in the world that could justify that- not even hers.

Eighteen

Araulen Valley, Summer 2014

H
er apartment had been stifling before Leigh had put the pork into the oven, but two hours later, Leigh felt as though she were trapped within hell’s fiery furnace. She reclined back against the counter and fanned herself with a newspaper, the only thing she’d been able to stomach reading for three weeks, and regarded the blazing ball of sun outside her kitchen window with accusing eyes. There were so many things about Australian summers that she revered, but cooking a Christmas feast in forty degree weather was not one of them, and she couldn’t believe that she’d volunteered to host the family celebration at her own house for the first time ever, only to have the air-conditioner crap itself the day of.

‘Hey now… hey now… don’t dream it’s over…’

The radio made Leigh scowl and she spun the dial on the unit, switching from one station and the other but feeling zero improvement in her mood to hear Southern Sons ‘You were there’ singing about love instead of Crowded House.

‘Gah! Why do they always play sappy shit at Christmas?!’ Annoyed, Leigh switched the stereo unit from FM to LP, and her Solid Gold Hits record picked up halfway through REM ‘Losing My Religion,’ instantly calming her while the heat of the roasting meal continued to fry her brain. She could call her parents and tell them what had happened and ask that they host the dinner at their house instead that evening and she could just bring the food, but her parents had taken the year off hosting their annual Christmas Eve dinner as an opportunity to renovate their own kitchen, and Leigh knew that their oven was sitting on their back patio. Naturally, her dad could just drag it inside and plug it in so Leigh would have somewhere to heat up the food, but she’d offered to host Christmas to prove how her time away had matured her and therefore, hated the idea of running to them for help in the last few hours. The air-con repair guy was coming, and she had just enough money left to pay him for his service- so she’d do that, pray that he could fix it and live off leftovers until her wage from Bruskies went into her account the following Tuesday.

Remembering how destitute she was after taking a hit on the rest of her tour and paying for an additional air-fare home one week early did nothing to abate Leigh’s sweat. She pushed off the counter, kicked off the black kitten heels that she didn’t need to be wearing until company arrived, and stomped over to the fridge that she’d covered in newspaper when she’d moved in to hide the rust spots, reaching for a beer and justifying her thirst with the heat. The truth was that it was her brain that was in dire need of quenching, not her throat, but what did she care if she became a drunk now? She was ruined anyway, in every way a person could be. The least she could do for her parents, was to get secretly drunk before she saw them each time, and make herself slightly better company.

Leigh popped the lid off the XXXX Gold stubby and took a long swig before stooping to check the crackling’s progress with the chilled glass bottle pressed to her temple, making the front section of her painstakingly styled French twist plaster to her face. The pork fat wasn’t as raised and crunchy as her mother’s but it was halfway there and she still had forty-five minutes to go. Standing up made the blood rush to her head and she leaned back against the alternate counter and glared at her MacBook open on the dining table, moving the beer to the centre of her forehead and misting her glasses at the top centre of each lens as she tried to absorb the lingering cool of the tiles through her stockinged feet. She was tired- working the extra shifts her boss had given her upon her pre-emptive return while still suffering jet-lag, a serious concussion and a host of other aches and malaise had taken it out of her. She knew that she’d be able to treat herself a lot more kindly if she got back to her blog and accepted the few offers for advertising she’d had since her return- but she didn’t have the heart to write a word, not even if getting it off her chest would be cathartic and help her reap financial rewards for her appalling stroke of luck.

Every time she sat down in front of the computer and steered around the ‘Site Under Maintenance’ walls that she’d had her IT guy put up, she was overcome by loss to see her last posts from Niagara, and how many hits they had received. Each happy snap was like a knife to the chest, and each eager inquiry to her well-being forced her to acknowledge the truth to herself:

‘How am I? Dreadful. Woeful. Shattered and hopeless. Empty. That’s how I am and how I will always be.’

And it was costing her. After years of struggling to be seen as someone of relevance in the blogging world, Leigh had attained actual success- and all she’d had to do to get it, was refuse to write a word. Her lack of comments or updates had acted as a cliff-hanger of sorts and driven her fans wild, and that had garnered her new interest and suddenly, she was getting offers from heavy-hitters in the advertising industry that could have set her up for years. It ought to have been a dream come true, but it was naught but a nightmare. Her fans thought she’d vanished because she’d found true love and was too blissfully happy to remember that they even existed, and though that may have been the case at first, the conclusion was too mortifying and hurtful to even attempt to articulate, even to profit from. She’d given up logging in at all, and settled for browsing the more interesting inquiries via her e-mail notifications but soon, she would have to cease that reading too, because the pain wasn’t fading, and trying to maintain any connection between the jaded, hopeless woman she had become and the naïve book lover she had been was pointless.

The pretty floral motif she had scattered about her apartment mocked her with their cheerful, pastel blooms. Ryan had not come. Not to the hospital, not to the hotel room and not to his home. Like a fool, she had waited too- killing hours by trying to talk her heart back toward hope, biding time by closing her eyes and remembered all that they had shared and telling herself that a love so powerful could not have faded like a lost signal... but she had been wrong, and had packed up her stuff and flown home from Ottawa International airport on her last day in Niagara, instead of continuing on to New York City. There had been phone calls in the past week from what she recognised as his number, but she didn’t answer them, and she’d shut down her Facebook completely so he wouldn’t be able to find her there either. Whatever he had to say, it was far too late for her to hear- she was done with love.

Her parents wanted to know what had happened, so she’d just told them that she had run out of money and had cashed in her return air-fares for the passage home, and that following the stumble she’d had that had landed her in hospital, she hadn’t really wanted to stay to limp around the biggest metropolis on earth either. That was a lie- her tickets had been non-refundable and she’d had to sell her iPad at the airport to be able to buy food for the trip home, but she didn’t mourn the loss of it. Of any of it- not even Ryan. What she’d truly lost overseas was herself, and you couldn’t nurse a broken heart with cold, numb hands, or weep without a soul, or try and put your woes in perspective against worst circumstances, when your mind was little more than balled bits of paper.

Besides, who needs an iPad? I still have a record player, beer and soon I’ll have crunchy pork fat. Merry fucking Christmas and screw the New Year.

There was a knock on the door and Leigh staggered over towards it straight away. Her apartment was small- a kitchen and lounge room with a laundry attached downstairs, and two bedrooms and a bathroom and a small porch up and it didn’t take long to get anywhere in it. It was joined to five others by orange brick, and boasted a view of the river over the top of six more apartment complexes just like it flanking the street. It was old and had once been an incredibly seedy area, but time and the mining industry had seen the depressing street rejuvenated enough to be passed off as middle class. Trees had been planted where stolen push bikes had once slumped on concrete driveways, and the ugly green Formica counters in Leigh’s kitchen had been replaced by marble-look ones by her father. The rats had been chased away by realtors with commissions to win, and the drug dealers had made enough money over the poorly-policed town to move into nicer residences and hide behind the facades of businesses in better neighborhoods, leaving Leigh relatively safe, but her parents still worried.

She had done the best with the flat that she could after she’d moved in though; sanding the walls and painting them in shades of milk with Tiffany-blue accents in places and then pulling up the stinky old flooring and laying timber-look linoleum in the once carpeted areas and off-white tiles in the wet ones. Her furniture was all old stuff that had all been restored by hand by her and her father the summer before, and every piece had been utilized for storage as best as they could be- so that the only belongings of hers that ended up scattered about were books, and she’d then tried to romanticize the tiny with delicate chandeliers, pale lace curtains and lashings of fairy lights- but it was still little more than a pretty box for an abandoned doll, and would always be hideous from the outside.

The itchy, sweaty petticoat of Leigh’s polka-dot punishment dress swished past her limp Hawaiian Honeysuckle plant as she opened the door for the air-con guy, bringing her notice to the fact that she really needed to throw it out. But like the dress, she kept it around to remind her of who she wasn’t, so she’d never risk what remaining will to live she had on a stupid dream again.

It was not the air-con man standing on the other side of her screen door though, and Leigh sagged against the door jamb in exhaustion when she took in the beautiful, masculine face of the man who had been calling and e-mailing and not taking ‘No’ for an answer, and his enthusiastic offsider behind him. She should have been shocked to have them on her doorstep, but Leigh didn’t have the energy for shock, only mild annoyance.

‘It’s Christmas Eve,’ she said, as though there was any possible way that someone could be unaware of that fact. She took off her glasses and wiped the sweat off her brow, and probably half of her make-up too. ‘Seriously?’

‘When I said you were my soul mate, I meant it,’ the beautiful man said, opening the handle and letting himself in. ‘And I’m here in person to convince you of that, seeing as how you’ve stopped taking my calls.’

Leigh groaned and took a slug of beer as she moved aside and gestured them in. She wished that she could feel some sort of excitement or relief because he’d followed her home, but there was only more self-contempt under her sweat because she knew they were not destined to be together- not at all. She let the door shut behind them though, for she simply didn’t have the heart to throw them out. Who knew? Maybe one of them could fix the air-conditioner so she’d have enough money to buy more beer before her pay check came through.

And there it was again- hope.

Ryan

Leigh’s house was nothing like he’d imagined it to be, and everything she’d lamented about Australian architecture. She’d said that her place was small and un-impressive, but still, he hadn’t imagined his blossom living in a generic block of flats, but some sort of detached cabin, with vines of Ivy and an enchanted pond and maybe a few rainbows arcing over the top. Leigh wasn’t just a single woman in her mid-twenties; she was a princess, and Ryan knew without a doubt that she’d been sent to him and his manor because that’s where she was supposed to be.

I was supposed to save her, but I failed! God what if she doesn’t give me a second chance? What am I going to do? Kidnap her and hold her hostage until she hears me out?

Ryan’s fist was clammy as he knocked on the door, smiling to see that she’d either bought or fashioned a Christmas wreath out of old pages from a book, folded origami style and glued together, for he should have known that Leigh would never allow life circumstances to take the chic from her shabby. As he waited, he sweated- he’d remembered that Australia was hot at Christmas, but had it always been like this? Sweat was running from his temple and into his ear even though he was wearing electric blue board shorts, sunnies and a sleeveless surf tank, he was feeling menopausal and he had no way of knowing that it was a sweltering sweat or a terrified one. He’d already tried so hard to contact Leigh but she’d ignored him like a pesky telemarketer, making him fret that he’d broken her too badly to be repaired, and he couldn’t have that! He couldn’t even conceive of one more hour without her love, let alone a lifetime.

The door opened, and an incredibly beautiful man with blonde hair and bright blue eyes regarded Ryan through the screen, wiping at his neck with a towel. ‘Are you the air-con guy?’ he asked,  folding down the latch on the screen. ‘Man I hope you can work miracles because this thing is older than this chick’s stereo...’

To say that Ryan was taken aback to be greeted by a buff, sweaty man was an understatement. ‘Uh… no I’m not a repairman.’ He felt annoyed to have to introduce himself to another guy in Leigh’s house.   Who the fuck was this guy? He was almost as tall as Ryan and almost twice as broad across the middle. Why hadn’t Leigh mentioned having Baywatch extras as mates? The kind of special mates who had Christmas Eve privileges? ‘I’m looking for Leigh?’

The guy’s gaze dropped to the puppy in his arms. ‘Whoa… yeah okay, that’s not a tool box.’ He turned around. ‘Hey schnookums... were you expecting a package…’ he glanced back at the puppy. ‘And a half?’

Schnookums? What the FUCK?

‘Huh? Package, no…’ the soft voice made Ryan’s scalp tingle, and then he saw a silhouette move forward and appear at Mr Muscles side, squinting out into what must have been the glare behind him. ‘No I… oh my god.’