Poseidia (15 page)

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Authors: J.L. Imhoff

BOOK: Poseidia
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“What are you doing?”
Roman asked, chuckling.

“I don’t want anyone to see us sitting out here.”

“I can’t hide in this car. It’s pointless,” he snickered.

“You have a point.” But I stayed hunker
ed down while Roman watched. We sat in silence for so long I drifted off to sleep. I must have dozed for about twenty minutes when Roman nudged me awake. Jolting up in the car, I adjusted my sunglasses, thinking they would hide my identity if David happened by the car.

David emerged with jogging shorts on.
Unexpectedly, Roman leaned over and kissed me, pushing me down into the seat.

“What was that for?” I asked as he pulled away
, now flushed and wide-awake.

“If he looked this way he’d
simply think we were lovers in the night.”

I didn’t buy his reasoning, but it didn’t matter. As I watched David disappear around the corner, s
eething emotions tried to push to the surface.
What’s wrong with me? Why does this feel so horrid?
I shook my head to keep my mind on track and silently yearned to be back in the comforting bliss of Poseidia. “He’s going for his usual hour run before his shift. But—he doesn’t come this way.” My heart fluttered as adrenaline coursed through my body at the sight of him. An impulse to strangle him right there on the street surged, and I had to fight to push it back down. I broke out in a cold sweat and as I wiped my forehead on my sleeve, some of the makeup came off with the movement.
Don’t do that again.

“Good,
it will make this easy,” said Roman. We waited until he was out of sight and around the corner until we got out of the car. “Let’s get in there and out before he comes back.” Roman grabbed my hand, and dragged me across the street to my old house. “Focus, please. We don’t have time to mess around.”

“Right,” I
agreed, but secretly wanted to run after David and pound my fists into his chest until he broke, until he experienced the despair I had when I drowned in the sea, alone.

We walked across the front lawn and it crunched beneath our feet, burnt from the summer’s heat.
I was a zombie walking back into the landscape of my old life, dead now—yet living.

A
streetlight flickered in the moonlight, breaking my trance. Tree frogs chirped—a sure sign of summer. I’d lost track of time, of the seasons, down deep in the ocean.

Carefully,
I placed my foot on the first step of the old wooden porch. The petunias and impatiens I’d planted earlier this spring were dead, their pink and purple petals crisp and long forgotten.

I walked the path of a ghost.

The house and neighborhood seemed different to me now. I didn’t know if it was my new eyes, or the electroreceptors, but even the scent here was different. A strong mildew stench coming from under the porch, and the rustle of tree branches, overwhelmed my senses.

D
etails in the wood planks, on the surface of the porch, stood out to me now. Splinters, rotten wood, and worn-off paint. I hadn’t noticed before.

A place
, which had been home before, now smelled of decay, as if a rotting corpse lay beneath the steps waiting discovery.

My perception had changed.
I’m such a different person now
.

Remembering
I always kept a spare key in the planter on the second step, I bent down and reached in, as my hand brushed the dried up husks of my flowers. The key I tucked in there months ago was evidence I’d lived here. A validation I had existed.

Maybe my luck would hold out and David hadn’t changed the locks.

Sharp edges of the key bit into my palm as I wrapped my hand tightly around it. Mindfully, I brought my fist to my mouth and kissed it.

A wave of nausea and homesickness came over me. My throat tightened
as I choked back unwelcome tears. Painfully similar to a visiting a grave—I had to leave my old life behind.
I feel so far from the Connective
. It was as if the euphoria had vanished, leaving me alone, and lost in my old human emotions.
Damn, this sucks.

My heart raced, and I breathed hard and fast. Fear and rage
mixed, causing my pulse to skyrocket. Slowly I walked up the rest of the steps.

I closed the remaining distance to the front door and raised the key. My hand shook so badly, I took my other hand, to steady
the first, pausing to take a few slow, deep breaths.

With the key finally
in the lock, it turned smoothly.
Still works, whew
.

Roman put his hand on my arm and stilled me. I jumped, startled out of my zone
.

“What did this guy do to you?” he asked.

I paused. “He killed me,” I said plainly, in an exhalation. Saying it brought up a new wave of emotions, ones I promptly choked back down. “You should wait out here. I’ll yell if I need you. I know the house so I can get in and out faster than two of us.”

He studied me with squinted eyes and nodded. “I’ll agree if you promise to remember you can’t see him. And be quick. Your plan is to get the locket and go, right?”

“That’s the plan. It’s just difficult being back here,” I sighed. “And I promise.”

Roman
pulled out a knife from the side of his pants, and pressed it into my hand. “You might need this. We don’t know when he’ll be back.”

“Is it a toy?”
Smiling to break the tension, I wrapped my hand around the hilt, feeling the texture of many bumps. Emeralds, rubies, and sapphires covered the carved alabaster handle. “It’s beautiful. It must be worth a fortune.”

Roman
released that crooked smile of his. “More than you’ll ever know,” he mumbled. “Only use it, in self-defense, if you absolutely have to. The High Council will have both of our asses if I let you kill him without a good reason. All joking aside, remember you can’t see him. I’ll stand guard. If you hear him coming back, hide, and I’ll get you out.”

I tucked the knife into the back of my pants
and nodded my head in agreement. Pausing, I slipped my shoes off, and handed them to Roman. With a few calming breaths, I pushed the door open. It didn’t squeak as it used to—I’d expected it to make a noise announcing my entrance. A wave of relief washed over me as I closed the door behind me and glanced back as Roman disappeared into the shadows.

Quieting my breathing, I tiptoed inside. It occurred to me David could have company still sleeping in his bed, so I closed my eyes and listened for any sign of life. I inhaled, trying to discern perfume from David’s cologne.
Nothing. Good
.

David’s musky odor permeated the st
agnant air and I breathed it in, the way a predator would scent its prey. The aroma of my old life filled my nostrils. My mind threatened to play tricks on me, taking me back to a time before all this happened, pretending it was a normal night. I shook my head, bit my lip, and brought myself back to reality, knowing I didn’t want that life anymore.

T
he furniture was still here, but boxes were stacked all over the place.
He’s moving. Run, David, you coward
.
I’m glad I didn’t wait much longer to return for my locket.
The walls were bare and painted beige now, versus the bright yellow they used to be. Frozen, I stood in the foyer for a few moments, planning my next step.

As
I placed my foot on the first step of the staircase, leading to the second floor and leaned my weight onto it. At the resulting creak, I stopped, held my breath, and waited in case someone was in his bed. Nothing indicated anyone woke so I continued, slow and steady, focused on my objective.

I reached the top of the stairs without another sound and listened. At the back of my mind, a little devil said I could go in
his bedroom, wait, and kill him when he got back. No one would know what I had done. Except Roman. And I promised him I wouldn’t see David.

But
I am dead now to this world.

I could
get away with murder.

 

Chapter 1
5

 

T
emptation clawed at me, but I pushed the wicked impulse back down.
No.
I would have to answer to the High Council. And so would Roman. I couldn’t do that to him.
Focus—get the locket and go.

I stepped to the
master bedroom at the end of the hallway, and pushed open the door. My anger threatened to overtake me and I struggled to push it back down.

Betrayal ripped my soul apart.

Being this far away from the Connective I didn’t feel the euphoria. I was sure now. Negative human emotions surged and became overwhelming without the influence of Poseidia. My skin crawled.

Boxes lined the wall and everything was bare in
the master bedroom, too. I crept down the hall toward the spare bedroom where I’d kept my jewelry, and all my clothing. I’d had my locket with me on the cruise, but had taken it off after my shower. David could have gotten rid of everything by now
.

Pleas
e let it still be here, please.

I opened up the spare bedroom door and let out the breath I’d held. My old and cheap dresser stood there in the dark. I’d bought it at a second-hand shop for less than twenty bucks. David wouldn’t let me buy new furniture. All the mon
ey we made went to his tuition.

Corr
ection. All the money I’d made.

Unselfishly,
I’d settled for old and worn out. I crept over and pulled open the top drawer where I’d kept my jewelry. It was empty.

I open
ed all the drawers one by one, but they were all empty and I slammed them in frustration.
What did he do with my stuff?

T
he front door opened and I froze.
David? Or Roman?
David’s musky scent filled my nostrils.
That was fast—crap.
Damn—what do I do?

David
walked up the stairs, humming a song. I’d left the door open to his bedroom so I slunk back down the hallway and closed it before he reached the top of the stairs. He slipped into the shower, still singing, oblivious to my presence.
Good.

What do I do? Do I leave without my locket?
Or keep looking?

No
—I came all this way and I’m not leaving without it. No way.

Back in the spare bedroom,
I searched for a clue as to where he’d moved my belongings.

I
n the closet was the suitcase I’d taken on the cruise. I unzipped it. Empty. My jewelry pouch along with everything I had ever owned was missing.
Damn.

David
emerged from the bathroom, whistling the same tune.

I
halted.

Time
was slipping by too fast.

He walked by and went into the
master bedroom. The bed squeaked as he sat down. I tiptoed over and listened at the door.

David’s
presence tempted me. My weakness screamed for me to go in and confront him.

Why did he
murder me?

Seething rage
battled for control. Stealthily, I crept out into the hallway. A board creaked—I stopped.

From where I stood in the hallway, I had a clear view of him as he turned toward the direction of the noise.
David’s alarm clock abruptly let out a screeching sound into the stillness of the night. After slamming his hand down to stifle the beep, he returned to his task with his back to me while he searched through his closet.

Silent,
I slinked down the hallway until I stood in the doorway to his room. He pulled on boxers and a dress shirt while I moved to stand in the doorframe, silhouetted by the streetlights coming through the window.

“Who’s there?”
David must have sensed me and turned around. Scents of soap, shampoo, and mint on his breath wafted over me. Underneath I smelled surprise and fear.

Complete and utter shock crossed his face
as I moved toward him—his face paling as he recognized me.

Fueling my fury,
I lunged toward him and knocked him onto the bed, straddling him as he fell. I pulled out Roman’s knife, and put it to his throat as I locked my hand around the hilt. Rage had won.

My
once calm breath now came in hard bursts.

I’d become
tougher than I thought. On top of the man I hadn’t been able to defeat, a sense of victory surged, giving me an adrenaline high. Stronger than I’d ever been in my life, to be in control this time was satisfying, to say the least.

“You’ll pay for what you did.” I didn’t recognize my own voice anymore.

“Anna? What the hell? Is that you?”

“You pushed me, and left me to die. You murdered our baby
,” I boiled, pushing the knife into his neck, but careful not to break the skin. The diminishing good part of me won that fight. Far away from the governing euphoria of the Connective, I’d tried my best to choke back the emotions and pain, but failed. “Give me a reason not to slit your throat, right here, right now.” My voice sounded brave, but now my courage was fading. Almost as if an essence pressed itself into my psyche, warding off my human emotions, my rage began to fade. My heart simply wasn’t in it.

“Anna
. How? How? How are you alive?” David locked his hand over mine to keep the knife at bay, swallowing audibly as sweat glistened on his forehead. “I’m so… glad to see you; I was worried about you. Everything will be okay now—you don’t have to do this. I’ve missed you so much. Drop the knife and we can talk.” His eyes darted back and forth, his lip quivering.

“Liar!”
I screamed, my voice quaking.

“No
, no, Anna, sweetheart, calm down. It was an accident and I’m sorry.” David swallowed again and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

I could sense his lies, the
exact way I’d experienced the dolphins’ emotions.

“Anna, I love you. What happened was a horrible accident
, but you’re back now. Thank God for this miracle. Drop the knife and we can talk. I’m sorry for what happened to you—I was drinking too much and doing too many drugs… but I’m better now,” he begged.

I closed my eyes,
drowning in his emotions. Overpowering, I didn’t know how to control the onslaught.

The instant I let down my guard, distracted by the confusing
feelings, David knocked the knife from my hand, and it clattered to the hardwood floor. Startled by his quick movements, I froze, giving him an opportunity to punch me in the nose, bloodying it, and knocking my sunglasses to the floor. I closed my eyes, blinded by the lights, afraid he’d see my transformed pupils.

In th
e moment of confusion, David was able to push me backward onto the bed. “Stupid bitch—do not ever threaten me,” he growled as he jumped on top of me and wrapped his hands around my throat. “I don’t know how you survived, but you can’t be here. You’ll ruin everything.”

As
David locked his hands around my throat, my scarf fell to the side. He released one hand from my throat and tore open the top of my blouse, revealing my chest. “What the hell is wrong with your skin?”

I clawed and hit at him, but he scoffed,
no longer threatened by me. It infuriated me more and I opened my eyes, forgetting why I closed them in the first place.

David looked back up at my face, his ice blue eyes meeting mine, the same ones that had looked through me when I pleaded for his help. “What the fuck is wrong with your eyes?”

I sense
d his shock and revulsion through the connection I somehow opened. Fear surged through his body. He let down his guard for only a moment, releasing his grip around my neck so I could breathe.

Then David
was lifted off me.

“I thought you came for the locket and then we would go. He’s not worth
the energy it takes to fight him,” Roman scolded, as he effortlessly lifted David up by his hair.

I’d forgotten all about
Roman. Now, I recognized his as the essence, which had pushed into my mind softening my rage.
How did he do that?

The alarm went off again.
Startled, I sat up and slammed my fist down on the clock, breaking it. I used the scarf, which had fallen from my neck, to absorb blood as it trickled from my nose.
Uh-oh. I’m in big trouble now. Dammit, how could I lose control so easily? Stupid, stupid, Anna.

“Who the hell
are you? What locket?” David screeched. “She attacked me. I was only defending myself.”

While Roman had David by the
hair, he inquired with exaggerated politeness, “The lady wants her locket. Do you have it?”

“No,” David
lied. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I sensed his
deceit. “My locket. The one I always wore with my mom’s picture. I took it off… and left it on the dresser in our cabin. What did you do with it?”

“Oh, that cheap thing? It’s not even real gold.”

“Where is it?” I screamed, lunging for him.

Roman stopped me with his hand, keeping m
e arm’s length away from David.

“I want him to pay for what he did. For killing my baby
,” I protested, but eased off and backed away.

“He will. He has to live with himself for the rest of his pathetic life,” Roman s
narled. “Where is the locket?” Roman shook David.

“I don’t remember,” David
replied. His eyes slid over to the nightstand.

I rushed over
, dumped the drawer contents on the floor, and searched frantically. Nothing.

David chuckle
d.

“L
et’s go, Anna. We’re running out of time,” Roman demanded, the veins on his forehead bulging.

The clock had read 2:45 a.m. before I smashed it.
Damn.
“We still have some time,” I groaned, unsure.
This is my one chance
.

“No
, we don’t.” Roman tossed David to the floor like a ragdoll.


But…” I turned to David, “Where is my jewelry? I want my mother’s locket. Where is it?”

David
shrugged one shoulder while licking his lips and raising his brows.

“Anna, let’s go now,” Roman
barked. He’d lost his patience with me.

I
strolled over to David and slapped him hard across the face.

David touched where I
hit him, looking as if he wanted to say something. What came through to me the moment I touched my hand to his face was his blistering rage. He stared at me, his eyes seething, his breathing hard.

T
o Roman I acknowledged, “You’re right, we need to go—
home
.” I pleaded to him with my eyes to drag me out of this hellhole. I was no longer human and didn’t fit in their world.

David wasn’t going to tell me where my locket was. My guess was he’d thrown it away.
And we didn’t have time to search the entire house. I’d ruined my chance. Now I knew I’d have to let it go and I guess that gave me some sort of closure. Eventually I would learn to live without my locket.
But I screwed up by attacking David.

The bleeding from my nose had stopped and I tucked the bloody scarf into my back pocket. My neck was sore and I rubbed the place his hands had been. My cheek burned
where his fist landed before it came across my face to my nose.
That is going to leave a mark.

Roman pulled me
by the collar on my shirt, out of the room, and the house. In the car, I sped out, squealing tires in the process.

“We’re not in that much of a hurry,” Roman
solemnly said through clenched teeth, shaking his head.

“Yeah,
” I swallowed audibly, gripping the steering wheel, “but it was fun.” I chuckled lightly, hoping to break the tension. “And he might call the cops.”

“He won’t. What would he say, ‘My girlfriend, who is back from the dead, hit me?’ No, he won’t call, so slow down.”
He bellowed the last few words so loudly I swore the car shook in fear.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” I
corrected as I drove, easing off on the accelerator.

“What were you thinking?
You promised me no contact. Now I’m going to have to make excuses to the High Council. I
told
you not to not be seen for a reason. When I sensed your emotions change, I opened the window for you to crawl through. Didn’t you see me sitting in the tree outside?”


Well, it’s not like I was looking through the window.”

“I told you to hide and I would get you out.”
Clearly frustrated, Roman rammed his fist into the dashboard. “Didn’t you remember?” His face grew redder, if that was even possible. “You’re weak.”

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