Mortal Desire

  Mortal

  Desire

  Mortal Desire

  Published by Lilly Pilly Publishing 2015

  lillypillypublishing@outlook.com

  www.facebook.com/LillyPillyPublishing

  Text Copyright 2015 Alexander Bryn

  1st Edition

  Cover Design by Lilly Pilly Publishing

  Images by 123 rf

  Layout by Lilly Pilly Publishing

  ISBN: 978-0-9942044-5-5 (paperback)

  eBook version online

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Young Adult 18+

  New Adult Reading Material

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Mortal

  Desire

  Alexander Bryn

  Life doesn’t give you the people you want.

  It gives you the people you need;

  to help you, to hurt you, to love you, to leave you,

  and to make you into the person

  you were meant to be.

  ~ unknown ~

  Contents

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Two

  Chapter One

  The End to the Beginning

  Also by Alexander Bryn

  The Keeper

  ~ An excerpt ~

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  She sat on the white leather sofa alone, waiting for someone I presumed. She knotted her fingers together in her lap, twisted them, and released them before she stretched her fingers and clenched them again. She looked this way and that, her red hair falling over her shoulder. And then our eyes locked; green eyes to honey-brown, lost together until the elevator doors closed … I had been summoned.

  The elevator rose swiftly with the smoothness of glass to the thirteenth floor of the apartment and office building. The high pitched ping of the opening metal doors alerted me to the arrival at my destination.

  Mr. Bellini stood waiting for me. His usual black slick hair was ruffled as though he had been running his fingers through it in exasperation, or frustration maybe.

  ‘Welcome Mr. O’Connell. Hold the elevator and exit. The time has come.’ His voice was deep and gravelly. His face was without emotion, and negative energy swarmed around him.

  I pushed the button to hold the position of the elevator, and locked it in. I took a deep breath to calm my jittery stomach and followed my stressed boss to his spacious white office.

  ‘Sit. Please Mr. O’Connell.’ He indicated for me to sit on the black chair in front of his desk. It was fondly called the black chair of doom amongst colleagues—those of us who remained that is.

  I held my gaze on his round face. I tried to read his facial expression and body language to give me some sort of indication as to what surprise was about to be bestowed upon me. He gave nothing away.

  ‘Mr. O’Connell, our clients have been declining. What is the reason for this?’ His dark eyes pierced mine, with the intention of making me feel intimidated, without success.

  I attempted to extract the thoughts from his mind through my honey-brown coloured contact lenses, without success. It was clouded with a film of alcohol bouncing around from cell to cell.

  I breathed in through my nostrils resisting the urge to flare them at him, and calmed my heart rate before I spoke to him. ‘Mr. Bellini, from my observations, it appears that people are noticing that some are not returning from the elevator. I fear that we are acquiring a bad reputation,’ I answered, my voice even. ‘If this is the case, then it is not the fault of the elevator, but of the Establishment, for giving too many the choice not to return via the channel of the elevator on which they arrived. Clients need to be vetted, and their return to living carefully planned so as it does not arouse suspicion.’

  He clasped his hands together in front of his passive face and narrowed his eyes at me. He clenched his teeth together forcing his jaw bones to expand on either side of his face. ‘Then fix it as you see fit Mr. O’Connell! The Establishment is becoming hungry, and bored. You have exactly thirteen days, thirteen hours, and thirteen minutes to rectify the problem. If there is not a satisfactory outcome, I think that you know what is coming your way!’ His voice was stern and threatening, while his eyes pierced mine like a dagger.

  I cringed inwardly. The black chair was not called the chair of doom for no reason.

  ‘I will see you in thirteen days time, at 13:13. Do not be late! You are dismissed Mr. O’Connell. And I aah … wish you every success in your endeavours.’ His dark eyes grew wide with humour as a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.

  I stood and bowed to him before I turned on my heel and exited his office.

  I was in deep trouble ...

  Re-entry into my elevator shell was most welcome. The smell of roses calmed my erratic heartbeat. I closed the doors and squeezed my eyes shut to black out the visual of his burning eyes that haunted my mind. I swayed as the elevator started to descend, and opened my eyes again. The elevator stopped at the tenth floor; Mr. Asher Camden entered with a pretty blonde woman close behind him.

  ‘Good day to you both. What is your destination may I ask?’ I looked at the blonde first.

  Her eyes travelled to my name badge, and then to Mr. Camden.

  ‘I’m with Asher, Henry. Where-ever he is going—I am going,’ she replied, sliding her hand along her skin under the collar of her blouse.

  I feigned a smile at her before I looked at Mr. Camden.

  ‘Sir?’ I asked and raised my eyebrows.

  He did not look at me, but kept his eyes on the blonde, watching as her hand disappeared inside her blouse.

  ‘Floor thirty-nine—the viewing platform thank-you, Henry.’ He moved closer to the woman, sliding his wet tongue over his lips.

  I turned and programmed the elevator to ascend to the thirty-ninth floor, express. They would be delivered there without interruption.

  I kept my eyes on the floor numbers as they illuminated. In the reflection of the shiny brass fittings on the elevator button panel, I watched as Mr. Camden approached the blonde object of his desire.

  He lifted his hand to the side of her face before he devoured her mouth with his. He ran his free hand over her breasts and then down to the hem of her short skirt, where it then disappeared up and under her clothing.

  She moaned into his mouth and lifted her leg before she pulled away from him, breathless. When the elevator door pinged, Mr. Camden removed his hand from under her skirt and brushed his hand over her erect nipple and stepped away from her. He grabbed her hand and quickly exited the elevator to the viewing deck.

  I expected to be summoned back to pick them up within the next ten minutes. Yes—ten minutes, after the lust deed was done, his pleasures of the flesh sated.

  The doors closed and I descended the bowels of the elevator shaft returning to the ground floor; the heartbeat of the Metropolis Mirage building. It swarmed with men and women in suits, residents going about the daily activities, and visitors wanting to catch a glimpse of the city skyline on the thirty-ninth floor.

  She still sat there alone when the doors opened. I did n
ot expect to see her in the same leather chair waiting. This time her fingers were spread wide across her forehead. She looked at her watch, checked her cell phone and tapped her foot on the smooth marble floor.

  She looked up and our eyes locked; green eyes to honey-brown, lost together, again.

  ‘Madam, can I help you?’ I asked, projecting my voice like honey to draw her in.

  She considered me for a moment before she shook her head with fervour, her red hair flying this way and that.

  ‘I am very aware of the comings and goings of all in this building. Perhaps I have the information that you are after Miss ...?’ I waited for her to fill in her name.

  She looked away from me and ignored my offer of kindness.

  Come closer to the elevator Miss…

  But at that moment the elevator doors closed, and I lost my contact with her.

  Shame…

  The doors opened again on the seventh floor. A group of women entered.

  ‘Good day ladies. Where can I drive you to today? A dream holiday? To the secret wives’ club? The anti-stress lab? What tickles your fancy?’ I asked in a melodic smooth voice, smiling.

  They returned my smile and visibly relaxed.

  Good. I need to repair Elevator Thirteen’s reputation ...

  ‘I’ll take the floor with a personal masseur thank-you Henry,’ replied one brave woman, smiling at me, her eyes twinkling. Her companions laughed then hooed and haaed.

  I looked towards the floor of the elevator and smiled crookedly, then looked back up at her and smiled before I pulled a card from my pocket and handed it to her.

  ‘Madam, take this card. I can highly recommend the magical hands of David, listed on here, Suite 8, Floor 13. If you return in the next five days, your wish will be granted,’ I smiled wryly at her, looked into her eyes and deposited the seed of need there.

  ‘Why thank-you Henry, it is so kind of you,’ she replied, her voice full of elation.

  I nodded at her, and then spoke to the women as a group. ‘Floor ladies?’

  ‘Guess …’ another cajoled.

  ‘Hmmm … by the atmosphere in the elevator, and the happiness on your beautiful faces, I choose the ground floor—a most popular request for those leaving the building and adventuring outside to have some fun. Please correct me if I have misinterpreted your auras.’

  The women broke into rapturous giggles that bounced off the elevator walls and hit me in the heart, spreading a warm happiness throughout me.

  ‘Ground floor then it is,’ I added as the elevator began its descent to the hub of the building. When the doors opened on the ground floor, I spoke to them again. ‘Enjoy your adventure,’ I encouraged, and bowed slightly before they left the lift in fits of laughter, and to the sound of thanks from their lips.

  I smiled to myself. Elevator Operator Operation Popularity was underway, the boss will be pleased.

  I took a small step to recede into the elevator when our eyes met again; green eyes to honey-brown, caressing and indulging in eye love.

  Come and talk to me …

  I looked at my watch and then back to her. She had been waiting for quite some time now. Forty-five minutes to be exact. Maybe it was a guy who had stood her up? Silly man if he had done that. She was quite spectacular looking, if not a little on the innocent side I believe.

  She rose to her feet, folded her arms across her chest pushing her breasts up higher and started to pace the floor.

  I held the elevator and stepped out of my office onto the marble floor of the building. ‘Really, I can help you. I have access to other officers throughout the building, video surveillance. I can contact anyone you want. Who are you waiting for Miss….?’ I was waiting for her to tell me her name.

  She looked at me, and turned away in an instant, her colourful floral dress swishing around her. She was agitated, becoming impatient. I heard her sigh, and then she turned to me again.

  ‘Miss Flynn ... I am waiting for Elliot McEwan. Do you know of him?’ she asked, her voice assertive.

  ‘But of course Miss Flynn. He is well known amongst staff here. Let me contact security and see if he is in the building,’ I offered with sincerity, maintaining eye contact with her.

  I spoke into my communicator, but froze mid-sentence when I saw Mr. McEwan approach. He was dressed in his usual black business suit. He ran his hand through his short dark hair, and then over the one day growth on his face. He did not smile at Miss Flynn, but acted as if he did not know her. I had seen him do this to other women. He had his own self-interest at heart.

  Scoundrel ... he is not her type. He will eat her up, spit her out and break her heart. Reap what you sow Mr. McEwan!

  She looked at me and smiled with beautiful green dancing eyes. She was full of energy. I smiled crookedly at her and tilted my head to the side before I returned to my elevator office.

  Return Miss Flynn. It would be nice to see you again ...

  The doors closed at once and the elevator ascended to the thirty-ninth floor, no doubt to collect Mr Camden and his liaison. I looked at my watch. Twelve minutes. That was unusual. Ten minutes maximum was the norm with Mr. Camden. He sure did take his sweet time on this occasion.

  When the elevator doors opened, they stood beside each other, casually, just like they were mere friends catching the same elevator together. Although, she straightened her clothes like she had an obsessive compulsive disorder, giving away the fact that some interlude had caused her clothes to become dishevelled. He stood with his hands in his pockets, pretending not to notice what she was doing.

  Mr. Camden entered the elevator before the blonde woman and stood beside me. He kept his distance from his “fun time”.

  The shine from Mr. Camden’s wedding band caught my eye. An explosion of sadness entered me. He was being unfaithful to his wife. I blew a breath of air out between my pursed lips. ‘Welcome. It is a beautiful day outside. I am certain that the air is fresher at this height. Which floor would you like to arrive at?’ I asked in a jovial voice while looking at Mr. Camden, avoiding eye contact with the blonde; she was emitting a negative energy after her liaison with Mr. Camden.

  ‘Henry, I am headed to the ground floor, and ...’

  ‘I have an appointment on the third floor—thank-you,’ she added, removed from the situation.

  I nodded my head and pushed the buttons as requested. The blonde exited the elevator without even a side wards glance at Mr. Camden. When we landed at the ground floor, Mr. Camden tapped the side of his nose twice when he looked at me.

  ‘Certainly, as always,’ I enunciated clearly, nodding my head. Patron confidentiality was a given, although it was written into our work contract.

  An unusual quietness roamed the ground floor now. It appeared as if it were a ghost town, except for Mr. Camden walking away. The Elevator Operators, all twelve, stood outside their treasured offices waiting for clients to ferry between floors.

  But the quietness wasn’t to last. Within five minutes the ground floor became chaotic with bodies lining up at elevators to return to their business. I smiled to myself. I loved the eagerness and excitement that bounced around from the people. They were all on a mission of sorts, hands in pockets, cell phones at ears and mouths communicating, eyes searching for the best bet on the next elevator available.

  Then out of nowhere, a herd of men approached Elevator Thirteen and entered. They were loud, boisterous, and obnoxious even. Not to worry, the elevator would fix that. And like a magical mist in the air, the moment the doors closed they were silent; totally different men.

  ‘Where am I taking you gentlemen?’ I asked in my business-like manner; no humour, no bling, all my t’s crossed and my i’s dotted. I noticed Mr. Camden amongst them.

  ‘Tenth floor Henry thank-you. You know you are lucky to have a job here. We are all very capable of pushing a stupid little button ourselves,’ he spat, distaste evident in his words.

  Be careful what you say Mr. Camden. I have much knowledge about yo
u and your numerous illicit rendezvous. I could easily take you down and expose your character ... ‘That may be so Mr. Camden, but I have been employed to serve you, and serve you I will do with thankful heart. This job puts food on my table, a roof over my head, and clothes to conceal my nakedness. Besides, I am ambitious, and will be working on the fourth floor within a year. Mark my words Mr. Camden,’ I added with a contrite voice. I have found my first customer Mr. Bellini. He will be presented to you shortly, with kindness, and an ounce of revenge ...

  I stared into Mr. Camden’s eyes and planted the seed of need. He would be back. He would beg me to help him.

  The swoosh of the doors heralded the exit of the men, a few good ones amongst them.

  The day continued slowly. It was because of the thirteen elevators, all in competition with each other. Our use was dependent on timing; which elevator was where at which time. Unfortunately, my elevator seemed to have poor timing. Oh, and the fact that I had lost my temper with a badly-mannered-stuck-up-good-for-nothing-who-dickey three months ago.

  The short story of the occurrence had grown and twisted to such an extent that little of the truth was left in the anecdote of the happening on that day. Pity—the bite hurt much more than the bark!

  The close of the business day crept upon me while I was lost in the social and unsocial graces of people. I headed to the staff quarters, changed into my blue jeans and white shirt, and removed my honey-brown contact lenses. My eye balls were free at last. I blinked several times before I closed my locker and made haste to the freedom of the concrete jungle.

  ‘Henry bud, come for a beer with the rest of us elevator dukes,’ Jack said. His voice was high with energy. He slapped me harder on the back than I expected him to.

  I ran my hand through my hair and watched him in earnest while I made my decision. ‘Sure. Thanks Turner,’ I said and smiled at him. He was a good man.

  We entered the bar and settled on our first and only round of drinks. We had strict rules about alcohol consumption, even out of work hours. As I savoured the third sip of my scotch, I froze when a warmth ran through my blood, dilating my veins and heightening my senses. It was not the alcohol that affected me. It was a human.