Mortal Desire Page 18

  I moved my hands around her and caressed her, just for a moment.

  I breathed her in, just for a moment.

  I became lost in our passion, just for a moment.

  ‘Breakfast is ready,’ called Sarah’s mother, after a quiet knock on the door.

  Sarah pulled away from me, looked into my eyes and smiled. ‘Have a nice day at work Liam. Tell Henry I said hi!’

  I cleared my throat, and waited for my burning desire to cool. ‘Oui, mademoiselle,’ I said, kissed her forehead and left.

  My head cleared of Sarah’s love potion on my brisk walk en route to work, and I organized for a locksmith to replace the door and window locks at my apartment. I arrived at work with a couple of minutes to spare and took over from the night shift guy earlier than usual, to his pleasure.

  The day dragged on with less people to deliver in the elevator, now that they could independently drive their own elevator car. And many preferred that. They could keep their own business to themselves without at least one other person knowing where they went and at what time.

  At 11am, Sarah appeared in the foyer with a painting in her hand. She waltzed over to me the moment the doors of my elevator opened, and entered. She leaned on the handrail opposite me.

  ‘Hi … Henry,’ she said with humour in her voice.

  ‘Hi yourself Miss Flynn. It is lovely to see you today. Where can I take you with your artwork?’

  ‘To the thirty-fourth floor please Mr. O’Connell .... Henry, do you think I should marry Liam?’ she asked.

  I narrowed my eyes at her and took in a deep breath.

  ‘No Miss Flynn. I think you should marry me instead,’ I said in a serious voice. ‘Liam is much too dangerous for you,’ I added.

  ‘Why do you say that Henry?’

  ‘Well, he is not as controlled as me, nor polite. He is more likely to sweep you off your feet and take you to some exotic place to marry you on the beach, whereas, I would marry you here, in the elevator, with elevator music,’ I said, keeping my face straight.

  Sarah burst out laughing. ‘Well ... that is very tempting Henry. But I would have to judge whether it is you or Liam to be my husband by a kiss. So I will reserve my decision for after you have kissed me in the elevator,’ she replied with a straight face, but broke into a gentle smile before the doors opened at the thirty-fourth floor, and left the elevator.

  The elevator returned to the ground floor then. The doors opened and a familiar person stepped in to accompany me—an immortal. It was Pedro; the nervous one who left the warehouse with Sarah before Albert made his appearance.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said to me, and nodded his head once.

  ‘Which floor sir?’ I asked, keeping my eyes on his the entire time, reading his body language.

  He looked up at the floor numbers, and then chose the thirty-ninth floor—the viewing deck.

  ‘Very good sir. It is a superb day to look out over the city,’ I replied and pushed the button, keeping my eye on him. Adrenalin started to surge through my veins. He was the one whom took the envelope from Mr. Bellini. I wondered if I was on his hit list.

  Pedro moved to stand opposite me in the lift. I chose to be offensive instead of defensive.

  ‘Albert has passed away Pedro,’ I said in a voice that implied weakness, remembering the conversation with Albert about his perceived fragility being a weapon.

  ‘Yes I know. It was quite quick. He did not suffer a torturous death like Evan wanted him to,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, thank-you for that. He was a good man,’ I added, trying to keep check of my emotions at his confession of the killing. I cleared my throat. The doors pinged and opened at the viewing deck, and Pedro exited my car.

  I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, closed the elevator doors, and returned to the ground floor, still breathing heavily. I closed my fist, put it against my mouth and leaned forward, reeling at the revelation from Pedro.

  I was a mortal now, and I was in mortal danger. Pedro was nervous about something. His body language was his downfall. He would never make a successful hit man.

  The doors closed and the elevator returned to the thirty-ninth floor.

  Pedro was waiting to re-enter the elevator. Sweat beaded on his face in the cool weather.

  ‘Pedro, are you okay?’ I asked. I made eye contact to try to read his intentions.

  He did not answer me, but stepped into the elevator opposite me. I waited for thirty-five seconds with the elevator doors open, and waited for his to say something.

  ‘Close the doors Henry,’ he commanded me.

  ‘As you wish Pedro,’ I said.

  His right arm was straightened beside his leg. His hand gripped something long and thin, and the end of a cream coloured knitting needle was visible.

  ‘You do know that I can stop the elevator and put a lock on its movements and doors, preventing them from ever being opened except by a bomb. If you choose to kill me, you will be imprisoned in here with my body as it goes through the process of decomposition after death. At first I will urinate and defecate because I have no muscles stopping me from doing that. My body will bloat as bacteria begins to multiply and feed off my internal organs. I will smell strongly of rotting meat, and fluid will leak from every possible orifice of my body. It will not be pleasant for you, the survivor, to see what will happen to your body when you die either of thirst, probably, hunger, or from inhaling deadly bacteria from me. Or … I can take you to a man named Mr. Milani. He is a master of helping people out of seemingly impossibly situations, erasing old memories and creating a new life for you. You will remember nothing of your present life or situation.’

  Pedro stared at me. He paled while I held my hand over the stop button. He was sweating profusely, and his nervous energy caused him to shift from foot to foot.

  ‘Your choice Pedro … what do you choose?’

  He dropped to his knees and pointed the knitting needle at his own heart, his hand uncontrollable with a strong tremor.

  ‘Pedro ... this will not solve the problem. What if you get the knitting needle stuck a little of the way in and it does not pierce the heart as you wish for it to? Or, what if you miss your heart entirely? What then? What sort of suffering do you want to inflict on yourself? Painless, like Albert really is the best way to go if that is what you desire—but then, I thought you couldn’t be killed—you are immortal aren’t you?’ I said without emotion in my voice.

  He remained kneeling, whimpering like a scared dog. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth drawn downwards as saliva dribbled from the corner.

  I breathed in deeply, rolled my eyes and bent down to remove the knitting needle from his hand and to help him to his feet.

  At first he would not let me take the knitting needle, clenching in his fist with strength. But then his body went limp as if he had given in, and I relaxed too, in compassion.

  That is when he lunged at me with a ferocity that I had not expected from such a coward of a man. I fell back against the wall of the elevator, causing it to rock to and fro in the elevator shaft. He made a low pitched growling noise as he tried to stab the knitting needle through the thickness of my uniform.

  His first attempt hit a brass button.

  By the second attempt, I held out my right arm towards him and clenched him by the throat. He was short of statue and his arms were not long enough to touch me. I squeezed his throat with my fingers.

  ‘I will kill you if you continue,’ I growled at him, piercing him with a stare of death.

  His eyes grew wide, and he grabbed my arm with both of his hands, dropping the knitting needle to the floor. I stood on it. With my left hand, I put in a swift hook to his head, knocking him out cold. As I shook the pain away from my clenched fist, I pressed floor number thirteen.

  Mr. Bellini, you will be pleased with this fine specimen for Mr. Milani ...

  When the doors opened at the thirteenth floor, I looked to see if Mr. Bellini was within view. He wasn’t. I locked the elevat
or car in position and proceeded to drag Pedro to Mr. Milani’s office, and slumped him in the chair.

  Mr. Milani entered from a back room almost the instant that our presence was made.

  ‘Mr. O’Connell, nice to see you again. You have brought me an immortal I smell,’ he said with a smile on his face. He clamped his hands together in front of him.

  ‘I have?’ I responded, pretending to know nothing about immortals being in this world.

  ‘You know very well that you have Mr. O’Connell. You are an immortal, I smell it every time that you enter my room,’ he said, still looking at Pedro who sat unconscious in the chair.

  ‘He will complete my collection. Thank-you, thank-you Mr. O’Connell! May I get you a cup of tea or coffee?’ he asked.

  ‘Thank-you, but no Mr. Milani ... I must get back to work. Perhaps another time I will be able to share coffee with you,’ I delivered as per request as the cue to leave his office. I nodded my head slightly at him, and turned to leave his office. I walked at a brisk pace back to the elevator.

  I closed the doors, sent the elevator down two floors and pushed the stop button. I retrieved a rose fragrance from the secret compartment in the elevator and eradicated the stale odour of the immortal, and the negative energy that remained a menace in the pod. Once I was happy with the interior ambience of my office, I re-engaged Elevator Thirteen to the ground floor, with relief surging through me that I had survived my first mortal combat.

  Thirteen minutes later, the elevator doors closed and I ascended to the thirty-fourth floor.

  ‘Miss Flynn, nice to see you. Are you wishing to travel to the ground floor?’ I asked in my formal elevator operator voice.

  She stood opposite me in the elevator and nodded. The doors closed and we started to descend—until she pushed the stop button.

  ‘Mr. O’Connell, it seems that you have information that I seek,’ she said to me, and stepped into the centre of the car.

  ‘I do?’

  ‘Yes you do. When does Liam plan on taking me to the exotic destination to marry me?’ she said, and shifted closer to me.

  ‘Oh … Miss Flynn, I cannot answer that. It is privileged information,’ I stated.

  ‘What if I exchange something with you?’ she suggested.

  ‘And what would that be?’ I said, mesmerized by her persuasiveness.

  ‘A kiss. You know that I do not know whether to marry you in the elevator with elevator music, or Liam, whom you have declared a dangerous person,’ she said, and tilted her head to the side.

  I looked to the floor and then into her eyes. ‘Alright. That sounds fair. Will you please sign this waiver before our lips meet?’ I pulled a piece of paper out of my pocket and handed it to her.

  I love you Sarah,

  To the ends of the Earth,

  To the depths of the sea,

  And beyond the blue sky that holds the Earth in a bubble.

  A smile grew across her face. She signed it and handed it back to me. I placed it back into my pocket, then held my hand out to her and pulled her against me.

  I lowered my lips to hers and sucked her bottom lip lightly. I pulled away from her momentarily before I kissed her deeply. She moaned and placed her fingers into my hair, and pressed her body into me before she pulled away from me.

  ‘Is Henry old fashioned like Liam?’ she whispered in between heavy breaths.

  ‘It depends. Are you going to marry me, or Liam?’ I said. I placed my hands on either side of her face and looked at her lips to devour again.

  ‘Hmmmmmm … Liam has blue eyes. I love blue eyes,’ she answered. ‘But you wear a uniform. I love men in uniforms!’

  I smiled to myself. ‘Maybe you could marry us both. He would never know …’ I suggested.

  ‘Liam … I mean Henry,’ she whispered, and stepped back from me. Her eyes were dark with desire. ‘Tell me when Liam is planning on marrying me … information exchange for another kiss.’

  ‘Okay … the word on the street is two days. Be ready in two days. He will pick you up at 8am, take you to an exotic location of which I am not able to tell you, and marry you at sunset on a beach. That’s all that I am allowed to tell you Miss Flynn,’ I said, lifted my chin and looked into her eyes.

  A tear rolled down her face. I wiped it away with my thumb, and kissed her softly while the elevator descended to the ground floor. ‘Have a nice day Miss Flynn,’ I said in my elevator voice as she stepped out of my car.

  ‘I will Mr. O’Connell. I am going shopping,’ she said with a seductive voice before she hurried off.

  I couldn’t wait till she was mine.

  Soon ...

  *~*~*~*~*

  I arrived the moment before the locksmiths made an appearance at my door. I was very well aware that new locks could never deter a professional burglar, but perhaps new locks would discourage Pedro, whom I assumed had broken in and killed Albert, and then entered uninvited again the following night.

  As the last of the locksmiths left, Sarah arrived.

  ‘Bella,’ I said as soon as I saw her. My heart rate accelerated.

  She lifted her lips to mine in a slow kiss. I inhaled her scent.

  ‘Beautiful!’ I whispered into her ear as I breathed in the apple fragrance of her hair. ‘I was about to call you,’ I said, and brushed my lips along her jaw line and over her lips.

  ‘Who were those men?’

  ‘Locksmiths. I have changed every lock in the apartment, for safety and peace of mind. I am planning on selling this ... and buying a new apartment with you Bella,’ I said, and waved my hand around the apartment as Albert would have.

  ‘Liam, I don’t mind where I live, as long as you are with me,’ she responded.

  I pulled her against me and locked lips with her again. ‘I am taking you out to dinner,’ I said changing the subject.

  I took her hand in mine and double locked the front door before I led her down to a waiting taxi.

  We sat in comfortable silence for the fifteen minute ride to the French Restaurant. I kissed the back of her hand numerous times, and eye caressed her legs that rested against mine.

  ‘You are beautiful Sarah,’ I whispered into her hair while we walked inside the French Restaurant to be seated.

  She gave me a shy smile.

  We were guided to our table where Sarah sat opposite me. Our legs tangled around each others, unseen to the other patrons.

  Champagne arrived within a minute of our seating, along with one dozen red roses.

  I lifted my wine glass. ‘Pour ma belle épouse d’être … to my beautiful wife to be,’ I said to her, connecting my eyes to hers.

  She touched her glass to mine.

  ‘Thank-you Liam,’ she said in a soft voice, before she sipped the champagne. ‘Mmmm, that tastes divine Mr. O’Connell,’ she added.

  ‘I agree, Dom Perignon Brut Vintage ... did you know that champagne was enjoyed by French Kings and rulers since before medieval times? Sarah … as per our dinner rule, I have taken the liberty to order for you. All you have to do is to enjoy,’ I said, and gazed into her breath-taking green eyes.

  ‘Ah Mr. O’Connell, you will make a beautiful husband. So glad that you will be mine,’ she said.

  I took her hand in mine and kissed it, interrupted by the arrival of our entrée; twice baked blue cheese soufflé with light cheese sauce and poach red wine pears.

  ‘Dance with me Sarah,’ I asked, after we had finished our entrée.

  She smiled and placed her hand in mine. I walked her to the dance floor and took her into my arms.

  ‘Why does everyone keep looking at us Liam?’ Sarah asked after a while.

  ‘The women are looking at the dreamy look on my face as I dance with you in my arms, and the men … well … it is your lovely long legs in those black stockings. The men are wondering whether you are wearing pantihose, or stockings …’ I explained.

  ‘Which would you prefer Mr. O’Connell?’ she asked against my ear. I lowered my head to her should
er and closed my eyes.

  ‘Oh, Mrs. O’Connell to be … stockings … no garters, so I can caress you legs as I peel them off you.’

  ‘Oh Mr. O’Connell, you are making me blush amongst other things that I cannot say because you are not my husband,’ she whispered into my ear and pressed her body into mine.

  I breathed out audibly.

  ‘We must sit for our next coarse Sarah, before it is too late,’ I said.

  ‘Too late for what?’ she asked.

  ‘Avant de faire l’amour avec vous ici sur la piste de danse! I cannot tell you because you are not my wife,’ I replied. I stepped back from her, took her hand in mine and walked her to our table.

  Once we were seated again, our main meals arrived.

  I had ordered the pan fried free-range chicken breast stuffed with camembert and cranberry, with green shallots mash, chilli dressing and red wine just for Sarah. And lamb cutlets with potato dumplings heirloom glazed baby carrots and green piston sauce for myself.

  She closed her eyes in pleasure while she savoured the tastes embedded into the dish by the chef. It pleased me more than I thought it would.

  ‘Sarah, I would like to give this to you,’ I said, and handed her an envelope of light gold paper.

  She took it from my hand and peered at me. I watched her while she opened it and pulled out the golden paper. Small coloured hearts cascaded from inside it.

  To My Dearest Beautiful Sarah,

  I love you,

  I request the honour of your presence on May 13th,

  to become my wife in the sight of God.

  I will wrap my white wings of love around you at 8 am,

  When I meet you in the beautiful gardens of your apartment

  building. From there I will take you on a flight to our

  dreams. At 5:30 pm, we will meet at sunset on the beach of

  Emerald Bay, where our hearts and lives will be sealed

  together as husband and wife.

  Then I want to spoil you with an intimate dinner for two,

  to celebrate you, my amazing wife, that I promise to love,