Darque Wants (81 page)

Two men arguing in a darkened room. We only see the face of one of them, and the back of another.

Her eyes immediately fluttered to a close, a natural reaction so that her body could concentrate on the enjoyment of the action, her lips parting and beginning to move in time with his as they tentatively shared a shy first kiss.

At the end of the heated discussion one of them is given a piece of paper. It has a name on it – Edward Simms.

It lasted only a matter of seconds before he pulled away, then he sat back with a small smile on his face, looking at her for a reaction.

“Do you know him?” she asked. “Edward Simms?”

“No.”

Thena was slightly breathless and blown away by the whole experience.

“I think,” he whispered. “When we touch, when we kiss…our visions are heightened, more intense and real.”

“I could feel it. I could and taste it. I was there.” She was astounded.

“So was I.”

“Imagine what it would be like if we had sex,” she joked.

He laughed, his arms slipping around her waist and holding her there, the two of them still incredibly close and looking into each other’s eyes.

“Do you want to find out?” he asked.

“Yes,” she breathed, leaning up to kiss him again.

He gave her a quick peck then sat up and began to undress himself, fumbling at the buttons of his shirt. She reached up her hands to help him, but worked on his jeans instead, popping open the button, then the zip, the alcohol perhaps fuelling her eagerness to get him naked.

His skin beneath his clothes was pale, soft and beautiful, virtually unblemished and perfect for his age. She ran her hands over his bare chest, delicate fingertips marvelling at how silky it felt beneath them.

A man arrives at an apartment block.

There is a list of names next to buzzers of the people who live there. One of them says Edward Simms.

He presses it with a gloved hand.

He has a knife in his other.

She leaned up and kissed his left nipple, trying to ignore the visions whenever they came and just concentrate on him.

She tugged the back of his hair, giving a soft groan of pleasure, raising her hips to urge him onwards. She spread her legs apart and lifted them up, wrapping them loosely around his back. He was so close now, it would only take one gentle nudge and they would be making love. It was what they both wanted, clearly, and now, Thena led the way, guiding them into unexplored territory with enthusiasm and desire.

“Do it,” she whispered into his ear.

He sat up on his elbows and looked into her eyes, still on the brink of stopping altogether if that was what she so desired.

“Are you sure?” he asked, then blushed. “I…I don’t have a condom.” He wasn’t exactly prepared.

“Lucky that I have then,” she smirked. “Bedroom.”

He scrambled to his feet and dashed out, although why they weren’t in the bedroom in the first place was another mystery to drunken Thena, and she couldn’t exactly be bothered to get up and join him. She just lay there on the sofa and waited for him to return. Thankfully, he didn’t take long enough for her to start having doubts about what they were doing. This felt right. This was the first time sex had felt right in ages.

Within a minute of his return, he had expertly slipped it on with none of the embarrassing fumbling around she was used to with John and the annoying but essential rubbers.

She smiled and kissed his lips gently. “Now you’re all ready.”

“I am,” he agreed, getting back into position.

“Please. I want you to.”

And so, he did, taking in a sharp gasp of air as he rolled his hips into her.

A
man’s face, serious and expressionless. He is washing a knife. It is bloody. The blood spills out into the sink and is washed away by the running water from the tap.

“That was him,” Dorian stopped, halfway inside of her. “That was the man who killed my grandmother.”

“But he was washing a knife. Your grandmother wasn’t stabbed.”

“Maybe he killed someone else. Edward Simms?”

“Carry on, don’t stop,” she begged, feeling frustrated.

He pushed forwards again and penetrated her completely, filling her up. She felt a jolt of pleasure and another vision hit them both.

The same man, the killer, this time earlier on, stabbing his victim ruthlessly. A man. He reaches down and snatches something from around the dead man’s neck. The necklace that belonged to Dorian’s grandmother.

“What does it mean?” groaned Dorian.

“Fuck me and we’ll see,” Thena smirked, scraping her fingernails up and down his back.

He grinned and bent down to kiss her, starting to snap his hips back and forth into her, in and out, in and out repeatedly, building up the pace of their love making into a steady rhythm and gradually getting faster and faster.

The killer tosses the necklace into the river.

It is washed up on the shore, the gentle waves lapping over it repeatedly. A dirty hand reaches down and snatches it up. A scruffy looking homeless man.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders to keep him close, and he tucked his own arms underneath hers, their bodies pressing tightly together as he led them gradually into the throws of warm ecstasy.

She moaned out loudly.

The homeless man sells the necklace in a shop.

Dorian’s grandmother comes in an unknown amount of time later. She sees it on display. She takes a fancy to it and buys it.

She could feel herself getting closer, bit by bit, to that peak of no return. She urged him onwards with her knees and the intensity of their combined vision only seemed to increase the nearer they both got to their climax.

Dorian’s grandmother is sitting at home. She clasps her hand around the necklace, closes her eyes, then opens them again and gasps as if she has seen something.

She gets up and goes over to her computer and begins to write an e-mail. The words on the screen are unclear.

“Fuck! Shit!” she screamed out a stream of profanities, reaching her climax.

The e-mail comes through onto the laptop of an old man in a darkened office. The same one from the previous vision.

He reads it, looks very grave, then makes a phone call.

“Oh God…” Dorian groaned as he came, his knees weakening and giving out.

Dorian’s grandmother, sitting in her rocking chair looking frightened.

A cushion is placed over her face.

She struggles.

Almost instantly he collapsed forwards on top of her and they clung to one another, breathless; their bodies glistening with a light covering of sweat due to the efforts of exercise, even within the relative cool of the flat.

“What….what….what just happened?” she panted, barely able to get the words out. “Did you…see all of that?”

“She saw something when she touched the necklace, didn’t she?” whispered Dorian, raising his head up and looking at Thena through half lidded eyes, a blissed out expression on his face. “Something serious. Then she sent that e-mail and the guy in the office sent a killer after her.”

“It was the same guy from the other vision, wasn’t it? Just older.”

“I think so,” he nodded. “Definitely the same office.”

“And the killer? Definitely the same man who killed your grandmother?”

“The same one from my vision earlier tonight, yes. Only younger looking in these.”

“Because it happened first. That guy who had the necklace first. Maybe he could see things too, and he found out…whatever it was. So then he had to be killed.”

“Edwards Simms. I’ll have to look him up,” murmured Dorian as he gently pulled out from inside of her.

She gasped quietly, then sat up and continued excitedly babbling about what they’d seen. “So the hired killer man stabbed him, took the necklace, threw it away, but then the tramp found it and sold it for money. Your gran saw it, bought it, got visions from it just like the first guy, and the whole thing happened again. The shadowy man in the shadowy office made a phone call, probably to the killer, and ordered him to go and do the job.”

“That certainly seems to be what happened,” he agreed with a nod, slowly getting up and starting to put his clothes back on.

Thena grabbed some of her own clothes too, suddenly a bit cold and slightly embarrassed. She hadn’t planned for them to have sex. It had just sort of…happened, and although she was glad they did because it helped them to see more, she was already starting to feel guilty.

“Why didn’t he want to do it in the first vision?” she asked. “Remember, it looked like they were arguing?”

“Just before he was handed the name, yeah,” Dorian frowned then shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe that was the first time he’d ever killed anyone. Maybe he didn’t want to. He just didn’t have any choice.”

“Maybe you should ask him,” Thena suggested.

Dorian looked at her.

She shrugged. “Well, you know what he looks like, and you know the name of the first guy he killed, or one of the guys he killed – there might have been more. Maybe you could try looking him up and see what you find.”

“It’s a good idea,” he agreed, jumping up and putting on his shoes. “I’ll let you know tomorrow what I find out, OK?”

“Are…are you going?” she asked, a little timidly.

“I probably should.”

She was going to invite him to stay the night but now she was wondering whether that was a good idea or not. What if John came round unexpectedly, or Deme again?

“Yeah…yeah, you probably should,” she agreed quietly, standing up to say goodbye to him.

He paused at the doorway, wrapping his arms around her slowly. “You were wonderful,” he murmured, genuinely. “I really want to do this again. I mean…if we can. I know that you and John are – “

“Shh,” she grimaced. “Don’t talk about him.”

“Sorry.”

“I’d like to do this again too.”

Dorian smiled happily. “You would?”

“Of course I would.”

“Great. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she gave a little laugh.

“Yes, I do. You’re beautiful.” And he leaned in to give her a small and polite kiss on the cheek before turning and disappearing off into the night.

She wandered back to her bedroom and crashed out, falling asleep quickly with the haze of the alcohol and the after affects of their love making causing her to be even more exhausted and sleepy than normal. In the morning, everything felt fuzzy and distant, and for a brief moment she was left wondering whether the entire thing had been some kind of wonderful dream.

*****

Racked with guilt over the impromptu affair, Thena was beginning to wonder whether it would be a good idea for her to see Dorian at all after what had happened the previous evening. She stared glumly at her breakfast and tried to figure out what to do for the best. There was little doubt that she preferred Dorian over John but, as Deme was only always too keen to point out – she barely knew him. Yes, they’d been working very closely together for all of that week and had been sharing visions but…aside from that, what did she really know about him? John, on the other hand. She knew John very well, and she knew that John loved her and would be happy to spend the rest of his life with her. But would she be happy with him? Sex with Dorian had been…mind-blowing, special, and incredible. Sex with John was ordinary and boring and uncomfortable. And it wasn’t just about the sex either. She felt a special connection with Dorian she had never felt with anyone before.

By the time she’d finished her breakfast, she’d made up her mind.

She couldn’t stay with John, not after cheating on him, and not after her experiences with Dorian. She couldn’t just pretend that this hadn’t happened and go back to her old life. She would be lying to John and lying to herself, and she simply couldn’t do that. She had to be honest, to ‘man up’, and confront what had happened. It was going to be difficult, but she would need to break it off with John.

Wondering how Dorian was getting on with his research, she got herself showered and dressed and headed on out, walking the twenty minutes through town to John’s flat on the other side. She felt a bit hungover and worse for wear, but the fresh air and the walk did her good, and by the time she arrived she had a better idea of what she was going to say to him too.

She always knew it wasn’t going to go down very well, but she wasn’t expecting the kind of extreme and violent reaction she received.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he snapped all of a sudden, turning from loving and pleased to see her to actually quite scary as soon as she told him the bad news.

“I just…this isn’t working out, John,” she tried to explain as gently as possible.

“I spoke to your sister last night, she said it was all sorted.”

“I know but…I’ve been thinking about it more and more and – “

“This is about him, isn’t it? This is because of him! That creep at the museum!”

“Dorian?”

“Yeah, him.”

“I…don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, blushing and bowing her head. She was a bad liar; always had been.

Her response seemed to rile him even further. He picked up the cup of tea he’d been drinking from and hurled it angrily across the room. It hit the wall and smashed loudly, breaking into a dozen pieces and sending lukewarm tea spraying everywhere.

Thena jumped, terrified. It was a side to John she’d never seen before, and a side she didn’t want to see again. It made her even more confident that she’d made the right decision in breaking up with him.

“You’re a slut!” He ranted and raved at her, getting right up close to her face and practically screaming. “You hear me? A little whore! After everything I’ve done for you! I love you, Athene! I was going to marry you!”

“I’m…I’m sorry, John, I just…I don’t love you back,” she murmured. “I never have.”

“Get out!” He yelled, pointing his finger at the door. “Get out before I fucking smack you! It’d be nothing less than you deserved, you bitch!”

Shocked and upset, Thena fled from the flat. She didn’t need to be told twice. She’d already seen what had happened to the tea cup and she didn’t want that to be her head next, but John’s words stung her more than any smack could ever have done. Her eyes stinging with tears, she rushed back to her own flat and collapsed onto the sofa, sobbing and confused.

When she answered the door to Dorian later that evening, her eyes were all puffed up, sore and red, and he could tell instantly that she’d been crying.

“Athene, what’s the matter?” he asked tenderly, stepping into the room and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his strong, supportive chest for a soft embrace. “What’s happened? What’s the matter?”

“It’s John,” she mumbled against him, breathing in his sweet, cinnamon scent. “I broke up with him. He didn’t take it well. It was horrible.”

“You broke up with John?” He pulled back and looked at her, surprised. Although sympathetic to her tears, she could tell there was a part of him that was no doubt pleased with the news. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. This morning. I…well…after last night I couldn’t….I couldn’t be with him anymore.” She sobbed and began crying all over again as she recalled John’s words and how angry he’d been.

“Hey, hey, it’s OK now, love,” said Dorian, kicking the door closed with the heel of his foot and holding his arms around her again, just hugging and shushing and comforting her in the middle of the room. He was handling the whole thing with surprising sensitivity and maturity, the opposite of how John had behaved, and even through her tears, Thena realised that was just another good point in his favour.

Soon, she had stopped crying and the two of them were on the sofa, cuddling. She felt warm and safe in his arms, and all thoughts of John were soon pushed to the back of her mind.

“Would…” Dorian began speaking, then stopped.

“What?” She asked, raising up her head and turning to look at him.

“Nothing.”

“No, say it.”

“I…well…I don’t want to rush you…”

“Say it,” she demanded.

“Would you like to be with me instead?”

She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “That was exactly what I was hoping you were going to say.”

“I take it that’s a yes?”

“Definitely a yes,” she grinned and threw her arms happily around his neck.

He chuckled and hugged her back. “I have some news for you….whenever you’re ready.”

“Your research?” In the haste of everything that had happened, she’d completely forgotten. She pulled back from their hug and sat up properly, all ears. “What did you find out?”

“Well, I looked up that guy, Edward Simms,” Dorian began.

Thena nodded. “And?”

“Turns out our visions were correct. He was murdered. Stabbed in his flat. They never found the killer despite there being one witness out on the street who drew a picture of someone walking away from the scene of the crime afterwards. You know, one of those bad drawings that they put in the newspapers to try and catch suspects?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know the ones you mean,” she said eagerly. “Go on.”

Dorian dug into the inside pocket of his jacket and brought out a few folded pieces of paper. “I went to the library, got one of the original newspapers from that time and printed out the picture they’d published of the suspect.” He opened one of the sheets out and held it up.

It was the man from their visions. The killer.

It wasn’t a perfect match by any stretch of the imagination, but they’d both seen him so clearly that it was still quite obviously him.

“So then I looked into the case some more. Apparently, two suspects were arrested who both matched this drawing and the description of the witness. They were both interviewed and later released because of a lack of evidence, and one of them had a water tight alibi. I got both of their names and looked them up individually. Found their pictures online.” He thumbed through the other pieces of paper and held up two photographs. “Which is our man?”

Thena instantly pointed at the left one.

“Exactly. I thought so too. So I looked him up, did a bit more research. His name is Harvey Jenson. He used to be a lecturer in Ancient History at the University.”

Thena’s eyes widened. “How did a hired killer get to become a University lecturer?”

“Or rather, how did a University lecturer become a hired killer? He was in education for years. He’s a historian, that’s his job. He’s a well respected man, not some thug. Now though, he’s a very old man, and living in a retirement home. I went to visit him there.”

“You went to see him? Wow, oh my God, what happened?”

“He’s pretty frail. Dying. A lot of what he was saying didn’t make sense but…he admitted it. He admitted the killings. Both of them, including my grandmother.”

“Any others he was responsible for?”

“No. Just them. But the thing is, Thena,” Dorian leaned in and clasped her hand. “This is more serious than we thought. And more…endemic. Harvey said that…the only reason he was asked to kill these two people, Simms and my gran, was because they’d found out something they shouldn’t, something that implemented some very powerful people in some very corrupt goings on.”

“Specifics?”

“That’s just it. He didn’t have any. He was just a pawn. These people…they were the one’s who had got him the prestigious job at the university years earlier, as a favour for his father, who they were apparently in with, and very close to. He thinks his father might have been involved in these dodgy goings on somehow, but he doesn’t know anymore than that. Only, these people helped him to get the job and then after that, they said that he would owe them a favour. Then they came to collect that favour. Asked him to do their dirty work for them. They wanted someone lower down in the ranks so that it wouldn’t matter if he got caught…it could never be traced back to them.”

“And who are they? Who is this mysterious ‘them’?”

“That’s what we’re gonna need to find out, Thena.”

She sat back and puffed out her cheeks, trying to take it all in. “Wow.”

“Yeah. My reaction entirely.”

“I’ll help you,” she promised sincerely. “We’ll get to the bottom of this and we’ll find out why your grandmother was murdered, I swear.”

He smiled and looked into her eyes, his hand coming up to twirl a strand of her hair around. “You’re beautiful. In so many ways. Thank you, for your support, for everything.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to hers.

There was a sudden flash.

Three people. On a beach. She had seen this one before. She had been there before. Only this time, it was different. This time, she could see their faces. A man and a woman. A couple. Holding hands. And a young boy. It looked like Dorian.

The vision jumped and changed like a scene in movie.

That same young boy, staring down at his hands. They were covered in blood.

Thena jumped back in surprise. Dorian too, seemed shocked and disturbed by the vision, the breath knocked out of him.

“Did you see that?” she asked.

“Y-yes,” he stammered. His hands were shaking a bit.

“What did it mean? Was that you? The boy?”

He shook his head. “Probably just this stupid necklace interfering.” He took hold of the artefact and removed the jewellery from around his neck, tossing it onto the coffee table. “Freaky though, eh?” He offered her a smile.

“Yeah, really.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s…it’s OK…”

“Hey,” he touched her arm gently. “That wasn’t me, OK? Not all the visions are correct. Sometimes your head can just get…jumbled up, mixed up with different things.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know, it’s happened to me before too.”

He kissed her on the cheek. “I’m sorry it freaked you out.”

“It’s OK.” She gave him a tentative smile and turned back towards him again, trying to pick up where they left off.

She leaned up and wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, bringing him in closer for a confident kiss, their lips meeting for the first time since he removed the necklace. Her heart gave a quickened beat, her pulse beginning to rise; the heat passing between them only intensified by the warmth of the summer’s evening outside. She closed her eyes and passed her tongue into his mouth, kissing him with an increased need and desire. Before long, hands were ripping and grappling at each other’s clothes, wanting to pull down or remove or raise as many items as possible to get to the sweet, soft flesh underneath.

Then she was coming straight in again, wanting more. This time, there was a fire and passion in the clashing of their lips that set his heart ablaze all over again. Her teeth grazed against his tongue, nibbling gently and kissing him with an expertise he hadn’t imagined she had. His eyes closed once more and this time, his hand crept round the side of her waist to the back, holding her gently in place as he shuffled himself forwards, getting their bodies closer together.

She reached out and began to remove his clothes, or at least, enough for them to get at each other, tugging at his jeans and her own until they were down to their knees, the two of them eager to get at one another and make love properly without the intense visions of murder and corruption plaguing their minds.

Both of her arms came snaking up and wrapping themselves around his neck, cradling him as they continued to kiss, the pair becoming lost in the moment. She slid her hands up his back and into his soft, curly hair, twirling it round and round her fingers and tugging lightly. The only sounds audible in the room now were the soft noises of gently smacking lips and the occasional quiet, suppressed moan that escaped the back of their throats when they were unable to help expressing the surprising pleasures such a simple interaction was bringing to them both.