Between the Waters (Symphony of Light) (5 page)

With hand outreached, I drifted, entranced, toward the thing of beauty. Just as I was about to touch it, dizziness came over me.

“That’s her.”

The relief at hearing Cyril’s voice caused me to let out a sigh.

“Welcome back.”

“I came as soon as I had enough energy.”

“Who is she?”

“Aristia. My goddess.”

“You sculpted this? It’s beautiful.” A pang of jealousy rushed through me. I walked around the figure, staring up into her face.

“Relax, Light. There is only you. I wanted to remember that beauty and cruelty can easily be entwined. It’s a lesson easily forgotten when standing in beauty’s shadow.”

“She is stunning. Hard to compete with that.” I ran a finger across her slender yet muscled thigh.

“There is no competition. She was nowhere near as beautiful as you. You are soft, supple, and warm. You are by far the loveliest thing I have ever seen. I wish you saw yourself the same way.”

I ignored him. “What is all this stuff?” I glanced from corner to corner.

“A little of this and that. Things I’ve collected over the years.”

The musty smell spoke of the items’ age. Several desks were scattered throughout the space all covered with trinkets and books.

“Linden, I’ve lived a long time. Longer than most things existing on this planet. I’ve done influential things all throughout your history. Some of them good and some of them…not so much. A taste of my mark on your world is housed here. There was a time when I engaged in your happenings. It wasn’t until I realized how destructive it was and started listening to Stanton that I set boundaries. I made a mess of my own world. I refuse to make a mess of yours.”

“Were you ever anyone famous?”

“Yes. You can look for yourself. I don’t know how much time I have. I’d like to talk about what happened in the hallway.”

“I don’t want to discuss it.” I crossed my arms.

“Well, then you can listen. I’ve seen you in visions from the moment of my creation. You have been my muse—in my paintings, music…everything really. I have been here for more time than I care to think about, all while knowing I belonged to you.”

“Isn’t that the other way around?”

“Well…yes. You are mine.
Never forget it.”
He faked a growl.

“Calm down, He-Man.”

“Let me say this before it’s too late. I found companionship in others when I could not be with you. It didn’t lessen my love for you. When this is all said and done and we are together one way or another, you will be mine again, but there is a real possibility this is all we will ever have for a very long time. Your entire lifetime perhaps.”

“No. I will get you back.”

“Your determination is one of things about you that pleases me most, but let me finish. Stanton loves you, you must know that.”

“It’s the spell. It’s not how he really feels.”

“It is in this moment. But is it so impossible to believe that it may go beyond? Linden, the only thing you are guaranteed is now. Stanton is long-lived, but not immortal, and we don’t know your fate. I hope that you will be able to walk the Earth with me forever, but whether or not I succeeded in making you immortal or long-lived remains to be seen. Don’t waste what you have now. I love you too much to ask to delay your life.”

“Cyril, please.” I backed up against the desk nearest the door and rested my ass on the edge.

“Don’t forget, you cannot lie to me. You have feelings for him too. You see him as the reasonable side of me. Maybe you are right. They all inherited essences of my personality when I created them. So in a lot of ways he is an extension of me.”

“It’s very noble of you to throw me a bone, but really?”

“I feel your need. I see the dreams. It’s no different than what I went through for all those years without you. I had to take solace in others, but it never dwindled my love for you. I have had no better friend than Stanton and would not be angered if you found comfort with him. It might do him some good.”

“As much as I appreciate your blessing, I should probably remind you that your bestie would be mission impossible. He’s never been laid.”

“If anyone could persuade him, it’s you, my dear. And correction: he’s never decided to lay with someone. Being victimized at one time was a way of life. Believe it or not, humankind is more civilized today than ever. It’s mass communication that makes it seem like the world is damned. Well…it actually maybe be damned, but not because of humankind. But I can see you are already starting to figure that out.”

“Yes. I fucked up when I killed Michael.”

“Yes, you did. Now you have a little taste of what I’ve gone through. Time is ticking. Lift your skirt, and take off your panties.”

“What?” I yelled a little too loudly in the air.

“Light, if you don’t clear your head from all this lust you’re not going to accomplish anything. Now indulge me. Ticktock.”

“I am not having the equivalent of interdimensional phone sex with you.”

“Yes, you are. Sit on the edge of the desk and stare directly into the shiny metal plate on the pillar. I’ll be able to see your reflection through your eyes and know for certain you are following my instructions. I’m not immune to your feelings. This is as much for me as it is for you.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this. The shit you talk me into.” I slid the panties down my legs and hoisted my skirt until it rested bunched at my hips. But I was pent up. Night after night, the dreams… This was better than begging Overton for a courtesy fuck, which is where I was going to end up if this continued much longer. “What happened to my libido? I used to be able to brush it off.”

“It was me. Now stop thinking. Stop talking. Just listen. Spread your legs, show me.”

I did as he asked. Bare, resting on the edge of the desk, the draft from the room blew across my wet flesh. I shivered, but more from anticipation than the cold bite of the air.

“I can’t tell you how much I love fucking you, but you know what I love almost as much?”

“No,” I said in a whisper.

“I love playing you with my fingers. The fingertips are the most sensitive part of the body. You learn more from touching with fingers than any other part.”

I remembered what he could do with those fingers, how they danced across the piano keys and played between my legs.

“Think of me as your conductor. Your hands will be my instruments. Touch yourself and tell me how wet you are.”

I was too weak with lust to argue. First I grazed the inside of my thigh before resting my digits on my swollen flesh, finding it wet as I expected. Pleasuring myself was nothing new, but watching as I did brought a sense of the forbidden to the experience, and it was further heightened by Cyril’s participation.

“How wet, Light?”

“Very.”

“Part your folds for me. Show me your treasure. Remember to keep your eyes open.”

The moist skin separated with ease, and I held myself open for his inspection.

“Fuck. So beautiful. I so want to be there, to taste you, to lap at your clit and delve into you with my tongue. Your essence is an aphrodisiac; makes me want you that much more. Take two fingers and slide them up and down your slit. Rub hard on the upstroke and penetrate yourself on the downstroke. Let me fuck you with your hand. Be an extension of me. I want you to cum so hard that your juices drip from my desk.”

He was going to kill me if he kept talking. My body begged for release. I set the tempo. Soft moans escaped my lips.

“That’s it. Press harder. Come for me. Let me see you come undone.”

“Oh, Cyril.”

“Yes, Light, that’s it. Keep going.”

I sped up. I was so close. But just then I heard something. I glanced to my left. Fuck.

“Keep going. Don’t stop. Let him see.”

Overton stood in the doorway motionless, nostrils flaring, gaze fixed on the ministration I carried on between my legs. He hung a white jacket on the doorknob.

“Do. Not. Stop.”
Cyril echoed in my head.

I continued. Burying my fingers deeper with each stroke. Overton closed the door. Walked toward me, stopping in front of me. His distraction killed my crescendo, but now the need was even greater since I came so close to release.

My chest heaved, and I panted. Overton stepped between my widespread thighs, and with my free hand I laced my fingers behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss.

There was no hesitancy. His lips crashed against mine, and the frantic dance of our mouths was replicated by my hand between my legs. His left hand slid down my rapidly moving arm and pulled it away for a moment to lace his fingers in mine, only to replace it against my slick flesh. Together we set the pace. His fingers were thicker and more textured, which felt delightful with each sweep of my sensitive nub, leaving a satisfying fullness with the breech of my core.

“Oh, Linden. You feel like silk. Better than I had imagined,” he breathed against my mouth, but with the final word he latched his lips onto my throat, kissing his way to my collarbone.

“So many nights, I’ve imagined touching you. To be able to physically show you what you mean to me.”

His hand picked up speed, urging mine at a faster pace. His pants between kisses grew louder as each thrust drove a little deeper.

I looked up to see our reflection. He was hunched over me, his finger intertwined with mine, disappearing inside me. I expected soft and gentle from such a sophisticated man, but he fucked me hard. It was welcome. Necessary. And he did it with the urgency of a man on the edge.

He grunted as one long stroke landed deep, and I was lost.

“I’m coming.”

He shoved our fingers inside as deep as they could go, allowing my walls to quake around us. With his thumb, he stroked my clit, and I cried out, “Oh, God. Yes.”

“That’s it. Let go. I’ve got you.” A gush of liquid coated our hands and dripped to the floor. He moved us in short syncopated thrusts as my body succumbed to pleasure. I threw my head back as he peppered kisses along my throat and I allowed the ecstasy to rush through me.

“I have never experienced anything so beautiful.” He placed a kiss beneath my ear.

I lifted my head and was met with his dilated eyes and flushed face. He removed our hands and began to lick my orgasm from his fingers. He sucked them one by one into his mouth, keeping his gaze fixed on me. I almost came again. It couldn’t be easy for him. I wiped my hand on my skirt and reached for his jeans.

“No, Linden. I can’t.” He removed my hand and placed it back on my leg.

“You can’t? Or you won’t?”

“Both.”

“So what was this?”

“Linden, you were in need.”

“So helping me get off is just one of your services.” I wasn’t sure why his response angered me so much. Embarrassment, maybe? Was I just another person who victimized his virtue? Or was Cyril right, did I care for him more deeply than I was willing to admit and the fact that this meant nothing more than a household chore bothered me?

“It’s not that, and you know it.” He crossed his arms.

I jumped down from the desk and pulled down my skirt.

“Then what?”

“You’re not mine.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that he not only wanted this to happen, he demanded it. He was with me the entire time. Right, Cyril?” I waited. No response. “Cyril, answer me now, damn it.” I looked up to the ceiling and the sky blue with white fluffy cloud motif that faced it. “Son of bitch.” I flung my arms to my sides and huffed.

“I stopped by to bring these.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “Take my car.”

“Why?” This change of events made me nervous, especially given how in love Overton was with his car. Could I even drive a Bentley?

“It’s safer. It’s icy out, and there’s nothing finer than English craftsmanship.”

“What about you? You staying here? Because I might be late. Real late.”

He grabbed the white coat that hung from the door handle and pulled it on one arm at a time. “I’ll be fine. I’m getting a ride with Thor.” He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “You’ll never understand it, but I only do what is best for you and always will.”

I cleared my throat. “What’s with the coat?”

“Oh, I have rounds.”

“Rounds? You’re a doctor? I pulled back the lapel of the lab coat and saw O. M. Stanton, MD. “How did I not know you’re a doctor?’

He brushed my hair back from my neck, placed his lips to my ear, and in barely audible words breathed, “You never asked.” A soft kiss to my neck was his good-bye.

I bent down, picked up my panties, growled, and then threw them at the door. Doctor? Why didn’t I know that? What the fuck just happened? Maybe I had lost so much of who I was that I would never recognize myself again. What happened to Cyril? I didn’t feel him leave. Could I ever look at Overton after receiving a mercy fuck? Cyril thought this would clear my head; it only made things more complicated.

Chapter Five

Coda

Magic. It was everywhere, but with Pittsburgh being nestled between three rivers, the strength caused tingling sensations to scurry up and down my arms and a slight headache behind my eyes. The city was more powerful than I ever imagined. No wonder Cyril loved it here.

When I arrived at the music hall, I was pleasantly surprised the renovations had started, so the place was unrecognizable. Buckets, ladders, and building materials littered the red-carpeted floors and the ornate plasterwork. I didn’t want to think about my role in ending two lives or the beginning of my newfound duties in this place. The souls. Cyril’s role as the conveyer of souls to their final destination beyond this world, now fell to me. We didn’t get the fun job of putting the bad guys in their place or rewarding the saints for their good deed; we were a conduit—a passage from here to there. With that responsibility, my quest to return Cyril and break the bond left me with little time for the symphony, but I missed it.