Duality (Cordelia Kelly #1): Empath Urban Fantasy (7 page)

I opened my eyes and death stared back at me. I noticed little things like the opaque film covering Dixon’s eyes and the clammy white pallor of his skin. Sunlight streamed through his two-story windows and made my skin crawl.

I killed this man.
In the light of day, Dixon seemed like a bad movie.
Would I be the hero or the bad guy in the film?
My dark counterpart lay dormant for the time being, leaving me alone to deal with the mess she’d left behind.

My stomach rolled and I scrambled to my feet, barely making it to the sink before I threw up. Acid burned my throat and I choked, spitting a slimy piece of sponge-like substance into the sink. The remnants of Dixon’s life slid down the drain going God knew where. Though he was dead, his essence still swam in my veins. The itching sensation reminded me of an alien baby growing inside my skin. I didn’t know how to dislodge his lethal ambrosia from blood, heart, or mind. I feared what I would become if the baneful batter festered for too long.

Eww, gross.

I rinsed my mouth with water from the tap. In a daze, I walked into the entry and sprawled on my belly and grabbed my cell phone from under the hall table. I crawled back to the safety of the kitchen, sitting on floor in the kitchen with my knees to my chest. Maybe Sol would know. I had nobody else in my life I trusted, so my only thought was to call the one person I could. Which was actually kind of sad, since I’d only known him for a few days.

After scrolling through my contacts list with shaking fingers, I hit send and lifted the phone and waited.

Ring, ring, ring.

“What?” A gruff, but familiar voice answered, and my shoulders slumped as tears threatened to fall.

“Sol,” I whispered on a hoarse breath, my throat burning from the acid and repressed emotions I tried to contain.

“Cordelia? Cordelia, what’s wrong?”

“Sol, he’s dead. Oh shit, I killed him.” Big fat tears formed and pooled, threatening to spill over.

“Cordelia, hold yourself together, and tell me where you are.”

I hiccupped and swallowed hard before speaking. “At Dixon Sharpe’s apartment. I’m not sure of the—” I stopped and composed myself and tried again. “I’m not sure of the address.” I finished.

“Sit tight. I’ll find you. And, Cordelia? Don’t cry, baby.” He hung up, and I glanced around the dead man’s place to occupy my frazzled mind. I gathered up my lipstick, compact and purse, making sure I had all my belongings.

The modern furniture of his home was done in whites and silvers with gleaming black accents and tables. His grand kitchen with maple cabinets and chrome fixtures with glass block backsplash bespoke a masculine sense of style. I peaked around the cabinet and spied Dixon’s prone form lying listless on the ground and closed my eyes tight to keep the tears contained.

I killed him.
Didn’t matter he deserved it. I’d still ended someone’s life.

My body trembled and my heart hammered in my chest, bruising and punishing my rib cage. More bile rose from the pit of my stomach, and I jumped up before expelling more of his bitter taste into the gleaming silver sink. Maybe if I forced my body to throw up over and over…perhaps he had ipecac.

I turned my back on death and stalked to the rear of the apartment in search of the bathroom. I’d wait for Sol in there, away from the pain dominating the front of this house.

I curled up in the massive tub, shaking and sick, seeking refuge from the despair swimming in my heart. I had no way to release the barrage of emotional horror pent up and locked inside me.

Sol told me not to cry. I guess he didn’t want me to cause a flash flood before he got here. The pressure mounted and pummeled my brain. How much longer could I hold the disease in? I squeezed my eyes shut and sang softly to combat the inner angst.

“Cordelia! Cordelia open the door.” Sol’s yell broke into my daydream about moss-covered forests and a deep cleansing stream. I sat up and waited for my head to stop spinning before leaving the bathroom and walking to the door with light feet.

Did I have a fear of waking the dead? I put my bag on the counter.

I went to the door only to discover there was no handle and I remembered—a flash memory from last night clawing to the surface of my mind. Dixon had scanned his eyes to open the door.

Oh fuck.

“Hang on, Sol. There’s no handle to open the door. He scanned his eye on the little panel.” I sighed at the bitter irony of Sol standing outside another door waiting for me to let him in. Thankfully Dixon's unit occupied the entire floor so I didn't have to worry about waking any neighbors.

On the other side, I heard Sol swear, and the sound made me smile for a second. I sought the cold place inside my head, the place where I went when I needed to detach from the world, and allowed the chill to consume me. I walked over to Dixon and stared down at him. He outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds. Could I lift him up to the panel?

You could always remove his head
, Delia whispered groggily, almost like she was underwater and bogged down with sand.

Um, no.
Decision made, I reached down and lifted him from under the shoulders and dragged him to the wall, grunting and sweating as I pulled. The scanner graced the wall about five feet up, and I briefly wondered if I’d manage this. I only weighed about 110 pounds, and a limp body was harder to wrestle than a live one.

“
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry. But were we burdened with like weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain,”
I quoted
.

I struggled with his weight, but managed to put one of his arms around my shoulder and used my legs to hoist him up. The scents pouring off him nauseated me, the disgusting mix of urine, feces, sweat, and sex cloyed my head, and I gagged, almost dropping him back to the floor.

“Cordelia, you okay?” Sol asked with a hint of frustrated concern.

“No. I’m not.” I grunted and heaved Dixon higher, trying to balance his weight using my side and arm strength.

Almost there. His head lolled on his shoulders like a tetherball. Using my hand, I grabbed his hair to steady his head, and a zing jolted me as a flash ran through my mind from last night—Dixon holding me by the hair and forcing me here against my will. My own anger gave me the extra strength needed to hold him long enough for the scan, and the door finally opened with a soft snick.

I released Dixon to the floor like a smoldering hot potato and stood there mute as Sol walked into the apartment and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly together. He didn’t shy away from the stench of my body or the repellent scene of death, nor the fact I’d just been holding a dead man.

A thought suddenly struck me. “How did you get up here past security in the lobby?”

“I walked in with one of the residents and rode the elevator.”

“Huh, and nobody tried to stop you?”

He gave a low chuckle. “The guards didn’t see me. A fun piece of magic called glamour, perhaps you’ll learn how to use it one day when you’re older. Getting the elevator to stop on this floor was a little tougher, but I've learned many tricks over my years. Just call me MacGyver. ”

I snorted with derision. “Yeah, when I get older—great. Can I cry now?” I asked as the tears pooled and formed, my body shaking from the adrenaline letdown.

“I got you, baby.” He scooped me up and said, “I’m going to take you home. Then I’ll come back here to clean up.”

I sobbed once. “I can help.”

“You’ve done enough, Cordelia. I’ll do the rest, okay?”

I sniffled. "Okay. Don't forget my purse on the counter, and we should use his private elevator to his garage, just in case. I can show you." He walked over and grabbed my bag, handing it to me to hold as we walked out of the house of death.

The world blinked in and out of focus on the ride to my house. I watched as men and women went to work and ran their daily errands. They had no idea the darkness following in my wake. The bleakness trailed after me in harrowed grey tatters from a wool dress torn while running for my life. Or so it appeared.

Sol drove, and I cocooned myself in his warmth, pretending not to think as my mind raced and played the events over and over, a fucking freak show. The reel spun and I watched in horror as I killed Dixon. I pressed my lips and crushed my fingers together.

Nothing helped, the movie continued to play, and I gasped as a rush of energy coursed through me, eliciting a moan from Sol. The moment Dixon died and I swallowed down his essence sang to the caliginosity residing in my soul.

“Do you want to talk about what happened, Cordelia?”

“Not really.”

“We should. Talking will help; otherwise, the poison will consume you, and you’ll never regain control. The darkness of Dixon will eat at you and tear you apart molecule by molecule.”

"How do you know poison is inside me?"

He thought for a second, and then said. "I can smell it on you. The bitterness is leaking from your pores."

My heart palpitated, and my skin broke out in goose pimples. My nails dug into my palms, and my legs started to tremble. We pulled up to my building, and I jumped from the car and ran as fast as I could.

“Cordelia! Cordelia wait!”

His feet pounding the pavement sent music wafting in the air, but I didn’t stop to listen. I ran for the trees and the lake behind my house, tearing my shirt off and throwing the crusted garment to the ground. Tears leaked down my cheeks, and I ran faster as dark grey clouds formed above me. When the first tear fell, the clouds opened, and rain pelted the ground in fat drops.

“Cordelia!” A muffled voice yelled behind me, gaining purchase, and spurred me to run even faster.

I cleared the trees and dove headfirst into the water, hoping to find peace in the rain splattered lake.

I swam with strong strokes underwater until I reached the deepest, darkest part of the lake and let myself go. I stopped fighting, stopped swimming, and debated for a few moments on whether to take a breath and just end the torment.

Have you ever had to swallow a lump so hard you choke, only to have to smile like you aren’t in pain and your heart’s not bleeding? You blame your tears on gagging, but really they’re your soul leaking the heartache you aren’t supposed to show?

I have.

Sometimes the pain is so intense my heart beats in irregular time, and I can’t catch a breath because the agony lodged in my throat begs to escape. Only, I lock it inside, afraid of what would happen if I rendered myself able to grieve.

The icy water sliced my body like millions of tiny razors, the cold seeping into my head, making the rampant thoughts and voices quiet. My toes brushed the chilly sand on the lake’s floor, and I allowed my body to drift and my mind to float away.

“
Cordy! Cordy don’t do this! Our life is necessary. We do what we have to in order to survive. At some point you’re going to have to accept who you are, and deal with the circumstances of our birth!”
Delia screamed at me inside my head to wake up and swim.

But I didn’t want to fight anymore. I’d given my entire life to others. I’d taken their hate and anger. I absorbed their lies and pity. I drank in their essence, whether good or bad, and I did what I’ve always done. I fueled their desires and absolved them of guilt.

The crux was I was the biggest liar of all.

I knew what I was. I’d always known who I was and what I was capable of. I just hid from the truth.

I hid because lying was easier than facing the cold facts about myself or the truth about my future.

My lungs heaved and attempted to force a breath before they burst.

Just as I opened my mouth to inhale the frigid water, warm lips covered mine and breathed life into my lungs. Arms wrapped around my waist, and a body pressed close to me. Then I was propelled upwards locked in a fiery kiss.

We broke the surface of the water, my savior and I. Then I lost the warmth of his lips in favor of his sputtering ripshit tirade.

“Are you fucking crazy?! You lunatic, you could have died! What were you thinking? Dammit, Cordelia,” Sol said as his hands gripped my shoulders and shook me. I opened my eyes and locked onto his, which blazed with wrath, heat, and the potent reds of violent fury.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you angry before, Sol,” I said as my teeth chattered from the lack of oxygen. Shock captured center stage, and my head fuzzed as the strength waned from my limbs.

Sol pulled me close to him and started one arm swimming to shore, towing me with him. We reached the bank, and he scooped me in his arms once again and walked towards my sanctuary with wet, sloshing steps.

I buried my face in the crook of his neck and whispered, “Thank you, my Sol.”

He growled under his breath. I think he was too angry to talk, but even his growls spoke to my heart. He squeezed me tighter and picked up his pace.

A stolen moment of peace settled in my soul as Sol carried me to my home. My eyelids drooped, and the heat from his large body propelled me into a healing stasis. I was aware of his deep breathing and the motion from being held, but I was unable to open my eyes. The sound of my lock clicking open, Sol’s footsteps on my hardwood floors, then the soft creek of my bedroom door met my ears as I followed his movements in my mind’s eye.

His hands were tender as they removed my soaked clothes. I don’t particularly like my body, and I should have blanched at the notion of him seeing me nude, but for some reason I didn’t. Maybe I was just plain tired. However, I kept my eyes closed just in case he didn’t like what he saw.

“Sleep now, baby,” Sol said as he lowered me onto my wool mattress and covered me with layers of blankets. His soft lips lingered on my forehead, and his fingers brushed my wet locks away from my face. “I’ll be back soon, and we’ll figure out what to do.” His footsteps retreated. Then everything went dark and quiet.

★★
★

I awoke to sunshine on my face, and for a moment, I forgot about all that had transpired earlier. Then the memories rushed back with a ferocious sting, and I leaped from the bed, barely making it to the bathroom before I threw up.

I wiped my mouth and started the shower, noticing for the first time I was completely naked.

Normally, I’d be mortified. My small breasts were a sore spot and having Sol see me without a shirt? Geezus, he must have seen everything.

I stepped into the steam and rested my forehead against the wall, letting the water cascade over me. I started to shake, and I grew lightheaded, so I sat down on the shower floor. I didn’t remember the last time I had eaten, and the black tunnel came for me every few moments. The last thing I needed was to fall and crack my skull open.

The pounding of my heart intensified with every beat, every breath, and every thought until I feared it would explode and thud against the cold tile floor I laid coiled on. The water scalded my skin, yet I trembled, my teeth chattering as a sheen of icy sweat coated my slender frame.

I wrapped my arms around myself, attempting to control the deep sobs threatening to spill from my heart and out of my mouth. My lips pursed, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying and failing to forget.

Forget—

The first sobs broke free and more followed, and I was helpless to stop them. They stole my breath, forcing me to gasp and shake. My head was encased in fog, and the ringing in my ears was the only muffled sound I heard of the world around me.

When the sobs subsided enough for me to stand on marshmallow legs, I turned off the water and wrapped a rough towel against my sensitive skin, walking in a zombie trance to the bedroom. I crawled into bed, uncaring I was dripping wet and curled onto my side, clutching a pillow to my heaving chest and bringing my knees up as far as they would go, searching for comfort. If only there were comfort.

And still the tears came.

I lay still with my eyes clenched, trying to stem the flow of agony. After a few minutes of quiet whimpering, a presence hovered behind me, and my body flushed as my skin heated. Then there were warm arms dragging me close, cradling me in their strength, spooning me from behind, legs tangled. Keeping me safe. Protected. Loved. Cherished.

The tears abated, and my heart quieted, basking in the warm cocoon. A low voice I’d recognize anywhere whispered in my ear, “You’ll be all right, baby.” Soft lips pressed against the side of my neck; warm breath against my ear made me shiver. Strong arms like bands of steel pressed me tighter, closer, holding me so hard I could barely breath. Then they released me.

I abruptly turned over to say—

To say—

But no one was behind me, just a figment of my delusional imagination.

I was alone. 

And the tears started again.

Outside, thunder cracked and lightening flashed eye-searing brightness into my room, illuminating my bed. Rain pelted the windows in gusts of torrential pain. All I could do was weather the storm formulating from my heart and spilling out of my mind, hoping this moment of torture wouldn’t lead to catastrophes like last time.