Breaking Away (The Man in the Shadows) (7 page)

Sitting up entirely, his eyes ratcheted up, little by little, to see Maika, lying on the bed as still as a gravestone, despite someone having just crashed through her front door. Struggling to find the floor, his feet slipped and skidded him over to her bedside, to make sure she wasn’t dead. He felt a breath come from her mouth, and knew she was physically alright.

Hovering above her, he studied her peaceful face. Her skin was an exquisite shade of tan, like golden wheat, from working and playing in the outdoors. Several freckles lined her cheeks and nose, and her eyelashes curved from her eyelids like a row of dancers wearing dark leotards with outstretched arms. Black as onyx, her hair laid over her pillow like silk flowing over a royal lady’s knee. Her lips were slightly parted, and were still moist and supple from her earlier exchange with an invisible person. She was pleasant and cute, and always full of cheer. Inside her brain, she held all of Ethan’s secrets, all that he had dared to share with her, secrets only shared between the very best of friends. What else hid inside of her? The only secret he had hidden from her, may just be the one to do her in.

His head sunk, chin hitting his chest. His fingers found their way to her face, and he ran them over her cheek, cherishing her. Regretting his reaction to her kiss, to her love, he bit the inside of his cheek, and looked away from her, ashamed.

“I should have never done that to you.” The words were uttered so softly, they were like musical notes being carried by the wind, quiet, distant. Knowing no one could hear it now, he said in vain, “I love you, Maika.”

Her eyes opened then, and she said, lowly, as if the words weren’t entirely hers, “Of all the wonderment in the world...”

Turning his head in her direction again, he regained his hope. “Darling...”

“The man in the shadows works in mysterious ways,” she breathed, as if in a dream, as if hypnotized. “He whispers in the dark and guards you...”

His eyebrows came together, creasing his forehead into thin, delicate lines. Befuddled, he said, “Darling, wake up... This is Ethan.”

Her eyes slowly came to focus on his face, yet she looked confused. “E... Ethan?” Once the fact of who he was hit her, her mouth opened in awe and excitement, with a hint of embarrassment, and she sat up. “Ethan!!”

Maika catapulted towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, like she always did when she hugged him. Crying, she choked, “What happened? I thought I would never see you again.”

“Never see me again?” He almost laughed at the thought. “Why would you think that?”

“I saw another world... full of castles and a purple sky and people wearing black cloaks... and they called me ‘The Key’... I felt like I belonged there, and my vague, almost...” she fought for the correct words, “...
suppressed
memory of you reminded me of my real home...” Tears burst forth from her eyes then, falling to the back of Ethan’s jean jacket, soaking dark spots on the fabric. “They said I was home, but deep down I knew I wasn’t...”

“Shhh,” Ethan comforted her, rocking her gently. “It was just a dream. I will never leave you.”

“I’m not so sure...” Maika pushed back from him then, to study him. A look of horror took over her expression of joy. “What happened to your face?!”

***

Greta sat with her feet tucked under her, sheer gown clinging to her arms and back, defining the perfect curves of her body, her hips, her breasts. By her people, she was considered a pillar of beauty, intelligence, and authority. Her blonde hair, shining like the sun in the candle light, was worn down, falling in loose ringlets around her shoulders. Normally, she was in her military uniform, dark green, stiff and rigid, with her hair in a tight, unmoving bun. Tonight was different.

Laying back, her torso and arms slowly drifted to the left, as her legs came out from under her and slid to the right. She now sprawled on the bed, her muscles relaxed, resting contently atop its fine adornments. A thick, soft comforter made of the finest down, pillows with gold trim and tassels were strewn all about. Finely embroidered on the sheets and pillows were all the stars, comets, and planets of the cosmos, in golden thread, mixed with a deep purple silk and the softest microfiber material. She rarely smiled, but she did then, waiting for her suitor to come calling.

Out of nowhere, a hand slipped around her neck and slid up to her jawline, petting it fondly. She closed her eyes as a sigh escaped her throat, and a lone moan of joy resounded through her chest. “Lover,” a male voice cooed, praising her. “You’ve done well. Soon, you and I will rule as one over the entirety of Monde de Lumière...”

Laughing suddenly, she lifted her hand to meet his. She led his hand down to her breast, where he squeezed firmly. Out of the darkness emerged the man, his long dark hair loose about his shoulders, his chest bare. His eyes were as dark as shards of obsidian, his lips searching for her ear. He continued, his words a moan, “And now that
he’s
gone... it will be done...”

“He was always in our way...” She turned around to meet him, wrapping her arms around his naked chest and back. “But let’s not talk about...
him.
We’re here to celebrate, are we not? To share freely the joys of the flesh for the first time...”

Slyly, he smiled. “Oh, yes, that is what we are here for, isn’t it,” he teased, running his hands through her loose hair. Shuddering in delight, he began to slide her translucent gown off of one shoulder, and then the other. “The two of us... together... to dominate the world...”

“To reign as the dark King and Queen, forever.” She emphasized the last word: forever. The Magi could do wonderful things for them, and even treat them to immortality if the correct spell was wielded, manipulated. Greta brought her face closer to his, hot anticipation on her breath, on her moist brow. “I’ll do anything for you, Lamin.”

“And I you.” Kissing her on the lips hard, he pushed her backwards onto the lush sheets and pillows. She gasped with mirth as he put his weight on both of her shoulders. “Do you trust me, my love?”

“Entirely,” Greta answered immediately with no thought in ecstasy, pulling his body to hers, their skin feeling electric against one another.

“Do you trust me manipulating the situation with... The Key? Do you trust my judgement?” His voice was soft, genuinely concerned for Greta’s opinion on the matter.

“Absolutely,” she replied, snapping herself out of the sensual, lust filled moment for a brief instant. “As long as you keep James alive, do what you will.”

Lamin smiled, a full blown sardonic grin forming across his lips. “Excellent. I will keep my promise, your brother shall live.”

Laughing, he pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms and tangling their limbs among the amethyst sheets. “Now, where were we, Lover?”

Chapter Three

When James stepped through the door to Earth for the first time (for the first time in any Luminite’s life), he was genuinely scared, doubtful, and utterly alone. He heard the door click shut behind him. Shortly thereafter, he heard each of the thirty locks shackle and bang and snap definitively closed on the Luminite side, and thusly he knew he was beyond the point of return or second guessing his decision. He couldn’t change his mind now, for the only way he could return home was by the will of the Corner Stone soul that he was to track down.

The soul had to mature by a matter of 25 years, which was an awful long time to wait. Years on Earth were awfully long. If he was lucky, the Corner Stone would have taken up residence in a mature body; if that happened, he wouldn’t have to wait at all, and his mission would be over before he knew it. He was a young guy, just 24 himself, so in the worst case scenario he’d be pushing fifty by the time he would have a chance to return home. That is, if he aged at the same rate as he did on Monde de Lumière. Shrugging to himself, he realized then that he’d have to learn as he went along, this was unknown territory even to the High Lords, and use the Magi as often as he could in order to stay on track. Failure wasn’t an option.

James found himself on a street corner, in the middle of a large city made of metal towers and concrete paths. No trees were in sight, and he wondered how any civilization could live with no vegetation present. Apparently this Earth culture thrived, as people pulsed around him in waves, not even noticing that he had, unbeknownst to anyone, walked through an invisible door in the air and appeared on the sidewalk.

Deciding what to do first, he looked down and saw he wasn’t wearing his military uniform any longer. Now he was wearing all black, including a black trench coat and black gloves. He didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself, so wearing all black must have been scientifically and empirically proven to achieve that goal. Personally, he thought the outfit he wore made him look like an assassin that, through the very nature of assassins,
should
draw attention to him. His feet taking flight suddenly, quickly, he found an alleyway about a block north down which he could perform a bit of magic without worrying about human eyes seeing him.

No one but High Lord Jamlamin Tarmikos, and the High Lords before him in their thousands of years of rulership, had ever used the Magi before, and the brief tutorial given to James before he was shoved through the door hadn’t left him confident in its use. However, he did know one thing: The Magi could pin point the exact location of the Corner Stone soul. When the soul had crept through the door and onto Earth, it was able to propel itself with its own magical power, to any of the corners of the planet within seconds.

Opening one gloved hand, his leather covered palm facing the baby blue sky, he asked the powerful sorcery, placed deep within his very being, where the Corner Stone soul had gone. Nothing happened. He heard no voice, nothing appeared before him, a fake bouquet of flowers didn’t spring from his sleeve; nothing. Again, in his mind, he asked where the soul was located. Still nothing. He couldn’t stifle a single loud “HA!” as he realized what was the source of the problem. He pulled on each finger of the glove on his right hand and hastily pulled it off. The glove must have been acting as a barrier, or a trap, to the magic that was trying to channel through his skin.

“Where is the soul?” he asked again, this time unknowingly out loud, and a large map materialized before his eyes. The map encompassed the entire Earth, with a plethora of countries labeled and a large expanse of water that curved and swayed around the land masses. Mouth agape, he backed up slightly to look at the entire map. There was a jovially large ‘X’ marked ‘you are here’ on a placed labeled ‘New York City’ in a large land mass called United States. To the west, and as luck would have it, not
too
far away, there was another ‘X’ that was marked ‘Corner Stone’. It was located in a different wiggly outline of a shape labeled ‘Minnesota’ in a city called ‘Saint Paul’. He tilted his head to the side and thought,
It can’t be this easy, can it?

Waving both arms in front of him, the map dispersed and then disappeared in a million tiny holographic dots. He opened his now de-gloved hand, closed his eyes, and asked the Magi to teleport him to a place in Minnesota called Saint Paul. When he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by a similar looking city with tall buildings and concrete paths, but it was covered in a thick layer of snow. Frigidly cold, he looked around, frantically. He spied a building with a sharp spire on top, with a fluorescent sign, gloriously flashing “1st” in red through the mist. If that was supposed to mean something, it was lost on James. He turned around and looked down the opposite direction. The Corner Stone was in this very city, but out of the thousands of people who lived here, how was he supposed to find it? As he gazed down the street, he instantly knew.

Follow the purple glow.

Briskly walking, he could see a radiant starburst of purple off in the distance. The soul was very nearby, and within minutes he would find it, and his mission would truly begin. Excitement taking over his being, his pace quickened, until he was barely below a run. Nearing a corner with a green street sign that told him he was near the intersection of Jackson Street and Valley Street, the heel of his boot hit a patch of ice, and he went sailing through the air. In an instant, he came falling from his midair flight, and all of his weight landed on his tailbone. A searing pain run up the length of his back and shot down both of his legs. The wind knocked out of him, he clutched his sides with his hands, and rocked back slowly, until the back of his head touched the snow covered sidewalk.

Note to self: In winter, walk slower.

As he carefully got back to his feet, he heard distant laughter. It sounded like wind chimes blocks away, but the tone was flat, dissonant. Not of a happy tone, either, but sinister. Upon first glance, Saint Paul didn’t seem like the type of city to harbor such hate; he was expecting happy people, happy laughter, especially with such a peaceful purple glow. The laughter seemed as if it were extremely far away, even from another world.

He jumped to his feet then and whipped his head in the direction from which the laughter seemed to be coming. The sound seemed to echo off of the tall buildings, the air itself; it seemed to echo inside of his head. Instinctually, and with dismay, he believed it to be from Monde de Lumière. Pushing out the air in his lungs in a
whoosh
he waved it off as an illusion, as of nothing of great importance. Only a surge of paranoia, fueled by his newly found doubt of the situation. His newly found loneliness.

As he turned his head, he thought he saw an outline of a door in thin air, and he leapt backwards. “Whoa!” he yelled without thinking about it, a sharp shriek. With a second glance, it was gone. Had he imagined it, or had the door... followed him? The laughing he heard sure seemed real, but had it been emanating from his world into this one?

Looking to the sky and running his fingers through his ashy blonde hair in frustration, mostly with himself for acting so irrationally, he began walking towards the purple rays of light, but slower this time. Walking along, he noticed things about this new city: it
did
seem friendly. He had yet to meet an inhabitant of this city, but he felt it from the cars that sped by on the street, to the windows he passed, it spilled from the delis and bakeries he encountered; it was more noticeable from the passerby's. He was unsure of the local norm for eye contact, so he looked everyone in the eye as they passed. Each would do the same, and smile at him. A complete stranger, a man dropped into their world unannounced, and they welcomed him with their shining eyes and rosy cheeks.

Heart sinking, he realized he would not be able to befriend or get to know
any
of them. He must remain concealed, hidden, with one goal: protection of the lost Corner Stone soul. “Dammit,” he said under his breath as another resident of Saint Paul approached. He plastered a fake smile on his face as the passerby said, cheerfully, “Hello!”

James nodded to him, and then stopped cold in his tracks. Looking up haltingly, his glowing azure eyes widening to some degree, a building stood before him, with a bright purple light spilling from a window several stories up. No need for his heart to sink now, his life’s purpose was behind that window. That light, and his guardianship of that light, would earn him the highest honors in all the Empire, it would immortalize his own soul for all time. He ran across the street to the building, searching for its main entrance. It did not take long to find it, because next to the front door sat a sign that read Regions Hospital.

Hospital.

Potential complications filled his brain. Hospitals in his world were heavily guarded, and were impossible to enter if you did not know someone either working, or being treated, therein. An idea hitting him, he again pulled off his glove and asked the Magi for a teleportation. This time, into the room from where the purple light originated. When he materialized in the room, he realized just how complicated this journey had become. He was in a maternity ward.

The soul had locked with a brand new body, instead of hijacking one already in use. The Corner Stone was locked away in the body of a one day old baby. His heart sank again, lower and harder this time, a sharp pain radiating through his chest. He would literally have to wait 25 years for this soul to mature before he could even think about going back home. A soldier, a seasoned army general, a tall handsome man, sunk back into the corner of the room, where the shadows sat. He felt despair take over his gut, his chest. He was stuck on earth for a quarter of a century.

***

Maika didn’t remember anything. She remembered going to the club and having a few beers, but beyond that, the slate of her mind was completely blank, save one detail.
A man.
The most beautiful man she had ever seen. His face was stuck in her brain, not that is was unpleasant, but she didn’t know who he was, and why she kept thinking of him. Had she danced with him at the club? Bumped into him afterwards? Seen him in the background of a picture on a shelf at Zareh’s house? Whoever he was, she felt drawn to him, like she was sixteen again and had a crush on the boy who sat next to her in algebra class. Seeing his face in her mind’s eye as if it were real, she got butterflies in her stomach. She felt like the memory of this man would somehow save her... she longed to be in his arms and to hear his voice in her ear. Sighing heavily, she glanced out the window of her apartment, to the trees and flowers that still bloomed in the October chill.

Though the view of the peaceful outdoors calmed her more or less, the question remained... What happened? Ethan had tried to explain it to her over breakfast at a local diner earlier in the day. He said, as honestly as he could, that they had argued, and that he lost her in the crowd. Mysteriously, she made it home without him, and when he made his way to her house, he witnessed an anomaly: she had been talking to someone, an invisible intruder, as if under some sort of spell. Through all the explanations she had listened intently, but she still didn’t recall anything but a man’s face, this mystery man, a vision that only grew stronger in her memory as time slugged on. It drove her mad that she didn’t know who he was, where he came from, or if he was even real in the first place. The question that had played over and over again in her head for years made it’s appearance once again:
Am I going crazy?

A deep, booming voice, distant yet powerful, answered her instantly.
No, you are not going crazy.

She smiled, a snippet of a distant awareness flashing in front of her eyes, as clear and as sudden as lightning. The man was real, she knew this for certain now. Her recollection as real as the heat they had shared, and she now felt a flash of the intense embrace they had mutually savored. They were in the restroom of the club.
Yes!
His fingers had grasped her shoulders hard, steady, his strong arms holding her across her back like a life saving brace, a force that could shield her from the most blistering storm, and she could feel his rapid, sensuous breathing on her neck. Remembering, reliving the moment, she knew that the overwhelming feeling she had at that moment was one she had never felt. Reliving it, she felt whole. When she had been joined with this man, even in the mere act of sharing his space, of looking into his eyes, she was whole; he was a puzzle piece that fit into her unique brand of crazy. She could tell just by looking into his chilling eyes that he was a special part of her life, someone who she was meant to meet, someone that would help her realize her full potential, to bring her that warm feeling that only
home
could bring.

Home.

This word, ‘home,’ gave her the chills. Recalling when she saw Ethan, having broken into her apartment to make sure she was alright, she had told him of a dream she had been having, one that she had been ripped out of when she saw Ethan’s face. She had found herself in a strange world, and the people were all wearing dark cloaks, were telling her she was home...
home...
what did it mean?

Exasperated, she placed her elbows on the desk and buried her face in her hands. She felt like she was being pulled helplessly towards a whirlpool, threatened with being sucked under the water, to suffocate, to drown, to never see life again. Or at least, strangely, to never see life the
same
way
again. Over the last twenty hours or so, she hadn’t been conscious of much that had transpired, but she knew that she hadn’t heard the whisper, that lovely whisper which brought her so much comfort, so much joy. She glanced over at the framed pictures of her father across the room. “Dad...” she whispered. “What is happening? Never leave me, okay? I’m scared.”

The silence that filled her apartment was deafening. Memories of her dad flashed through her memory, and she suddenly felt a sorrowful longing. Wishing she had savored each moment as a child more, she could almost feel her tiny hand in her dad’s as they walked down to the park in North Minneapolis. She smelled the fresh spring air on her face, in her lungs as her dad pushed her on a swing, and she laughed and giggled as she asked to be pushed higher. Once the whisper began, long ago, she soon heard her father’s whisper. He told her he was proud of the woman she had become, that she stood to become so much more...

She strained to remember more about the day that had just passed. Who was the man she had met in the bathroom? Who had she been talking to when Ethan had come to check on her? Why did she feel so lost, so empty, so alone?

The ring of her phone broke the silence, making her heart skip a beat. She got up out of her chair by the window and meandered across the room to fetch it. As she picked it up, she saw by the lit up screen that it was Ethan. Answering it as quickly as possible, she inquired, “Ethan?”

“Hello, Darling.” A pang of dolefulness hit her then, because the normal swooning feeling she got by the utterance of this word from his lips didn’t hit. It was so abnormal that she whimpered a little bit.

“Ethan...” she answered. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, my nose is a little tender, but nothing I can’t tough through.” A brief silence followed before he said, “It doesn’t matter how I am. How are you? I’m still so worried.”

Smiling a little by his concern, she said, “I’m fine. I think. Nothing weird has happened since we parted. I’ve been trying to remember what happened...”

“Don’t stress yourself out,” Ethan interrupted, kindly offering advice. “It’ll come back to you with time.”

“Yeah,” she reluctantly agreed. “I’m just so confused. I need to know.”

“I need to tell you something.” Ethan sounded strained, and Maika knew right away that he had a secret. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to decide whether she wanted to know what it was. Hadn’t she had enough surprises in the last 24 hours? Before she could say anything in response, he said, “I think all the odd events we’ve gone through are my fault.”

“What?” She brought her hand up to her temple and started to rub it. When he had confessed it was his fault, a sharp pain pierced her brain. “Oh, man...”

“What’s wrong?” Concern.

“Oh, nothing. My head just hurts a little bit.” Still rubbing her temple, wincing nominally she said, “Why would any of this be your fault?”

“It’s... it’s a long story. But to make a long story short, I have...”

A sharp
click
. Then a steady dial tone.

“Ethan! Are you there?” She took the phone from her ear, an error message flashed saying ‘Call Lost’.

“No fucking kidding,” she cursed and threw the phone across the room. “Stupid technology.”

Walking back towards the window, she heard a whisper in her ear, like a breeze through tree branches.
Child...
it beckoned.
You belong to me.

Confused, she sat down slowly. The voice was not a friendly one, and it was not familiar. Not the man in the shadows, or her father. Why was an unfamiliar voice speaking to her? She shook her head and softly spoke to the dim, empty light of her apartment. “No, I don’t belong to you. I don’t even know who you are.” Her eyes darted around, to see if anything, or anyone, would reveal itself to her.