Mortal Desire Read online

  ‘Interesting is not a word that I would choose Albert. I would say more ... random, incidental, totally left field, even odd, but far more than just interesting. Of course from your point of view watching from the confines of this apartment it could be interesting for you. However, I did expect a surprise visit from you once the three immortals showed their ugly faces,’ I added to Albert’s summing up of the events of the day.

  ‘You were in no danger what-so-ever Liam. The blood from the dog saw to that, and those coloured lenses that you are compelled to wear at work saved your sweet little butt!’ Albert rose from his wing chair and took slow precise steps towards me. His stare was deadly serious. He was certainly unimpressed by my heroics today.

  ‘Your time is running out Liam,’ he said as he poked me in the chest with his long bony index finger. ‘You left the girl. You should have stayed with her!’

  ‘I left her with her mother, whom is a nurse,’ I replied to his accusation.

  ‘But is she truly safe there with her?’ he asked piercing my eyes with his.

  ‘I don’t know, you tell me—you are the one who can see the future Protector!’ I rebounded.

  ‘I can only see things when you are there ... you know that child!’ he retorted.

  I paced to and fro in front of Albert. Then placed my hands on top of my head and closed my eyes and took a deep breath. She was with ... her mother. ‘Why are you so concerned about the girl Albert? I meet many every day!’

  He turned away from me then and waved his hand through the air. ‘Maybe she didn’t come away from the attack as well as you thought ... I’m turning in for the night, and I suggest that you do the same.’ He walked away. Matisse sauntered after him in her catwalk manner, no doubt after a warm place to sleep tonight.

  I turned away and gave a growl in exasperation. Damn, why are women so hard to read? I will make an effort to find out how she is tomorrow.

  I headed for the shower to cleanse my human body before I retired to my bed chamber. I slid my naked physical form between the soft white cotton sheets of the bed and gazed up above me.

  The ceiling was awash with swirling energy as I focused on the blue energy mass that hovered mystically in mid-air. I closed my eyes before reaching for it. It was further away than it usually was, but I projected my energy towards it to pull it within an arm span of me.

  The instant that I touched it, I felt the energy influx awaken my mind, opening the gateway to inter-dimension energy transfer. I really needed this power-up tonight after what I had experienced today, especially after the confrontation with Elliot McEwan and the energy it had taken to control myself from hurting him.

  My mind wandered back to Mr. & Mrs. Camden. The young boy was right. They had not returned. They had not been seen. It was bad publicity for Elevator Thirteen. I would deal with it tomorrow.

  Gravity forced my hand to drop to the bed beside me. I needed to sleep. Not because my mind needed it. Being immortal meant that my mind was forever engaged. I slept only because my human body needed it. And I needed my body to be in peak condition to endure whatever would come my way. And I slept out of respect for the generous chance that I had been given to possibly become mortal, so that I could die and enter the spiritual realm again.

  I closed my eyes and recited the words of meditazione, ‘Il coraggio, la temperanza, la saggezza, la giustizia, la pazienza—courage, temperance, wisdom, justice, patience.’ I repeated the words sealing them into the depths of my consciousness, finding comfort, and solace.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The steady drizzle of rain cloaked the city as I arrived at the opulent historic building where Sarah lived with her mother. Four hundred years of learning had given me a sharp eye for detail, and an uncanny ability to recall facts associated with four centuries. This building held secrets unknown to the occupants. I pushed the security buzzer and it let out a low hum.

  ‘Hello?’ It was Mrs. Flynn.

  ‘Hello. My name is Liam. I brought your daughter home last night. May I come up to see how she is please?’ There was silence on the other side of the intercom and I thought I had lucked out, until the click of the security door releasing the lock caught my attention.

  With haste I entered the building and ran up the sixteen flights of stairs to Sarah’s mother’s apartment.

  While breathing deeply, forcing air into the lungs of my human body, I knocked on the door. Within a short amount of time Mrs. Flynn opened it and invited me in.

  Sarah was sitting on the sofa in front of the fire place with a blanket covering her legs, and a cup of tea in her hand. She looked forlorn as she stared into the fireplace, the reflection of the orange flames flickering in her green eyes.

  ‘Hi,’ I said gently as I approached her.

  ‘Hi,’ she replied, but did not look at me.

  ‘How are you feeling today?’ I asked, hoping for an honest answer.

  ‘Oh you know, sore here and there, still with a massive headache, and feeling sorry for myself, and angry at my vulnerability with my choice in men. I was stupid, so, so, stupid!’ She rebuked herself and a tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped the tear away with the back of her hand, ashamed of herself.

  ‘It could have ended far, far catastrophically for you Sarah. You know that, and I don’t have to go into details for you. Is there anything that I can do for you? Besides beating him up which I did a little last night ... ’ I looked down and smiled to myself, triumphant in not killing him.

  She shook her head while still looking into the flickering flames. She closed her eyes for a moment and then looked at me. ‘I must thank-you Liam for helping me,’ she said. Her voice choked up.

  ‘No problem. But do yourself a favour and have some self-defence lessons,’ I suggested to her before I held my hand out to her. She placed her hand in mine and I gave it a gentle squeeze. At the same time, I sent my amnis under the surface of her skin to help soothe and heal her pain, and her emotional trauma.

  She looked deeply into my eyes at our touch and her lips parted slightly. It was in response to the pleasurable sensation that she experienced as our souls touched.

  But we could never be together.

  She was mortal.

  I was not.

  She was forbidden.

  ‘Take care Sarah,’ I whispered and bowed my head slightly to her, and then left after a brief conversation with Mrs. Flynn.

  All seemed well with Sarah. I don’t know what Albert had been going ballistic about? I wished that he had been more specific about his concern.

  The Metropolis Mirage was a short walk from Sarah’s apartment building. So I pulled up my collar, lowered my head and walked at a brisk pace to the Coffee Pot Café to pick up a caffé medici.

  I wrapped my hands around the chocolaty orange coffee and continued on my journey to work.

  I felt the immortals before I saw them this time. Really, their type was so cliché in the way that they dressed and held themselves in their black gothic clothes.

  I focused my eyes downward, and stiffened my collar upward. They were on a direct path coming towards me, and it would not look good for me to retreat away from them.

  Instead, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my sunglasses to cover my exposed blue eyes, and then spilt my latte over my hands to cover any immortal scent that I may be emitting through my skin.

  The deadbeat immortal in the centre of the trio looked at me with his head cocked sideways, and frowned at me as he came closer. He touched the arms of his companions and indicated for them to look at me.

  The air became intense. I “accidentally” dropped my latte onto the ground in an attempt to conceal my scent further, and raised my arms with a loud sigh before I put my hands on my hips and then picked up the cup and lid.

  I turned then, and walked back to the Coffee Pot Cafe where the aroma of coffee beans saturated the air. There was no way that they would be able to pick up on my immortal scent in that café. And they wouldn’t dare attack me wh
ilst I was in amongst all of the patrons, who would then become witnesses to their darkness, exposing them for who they were.

  I had never thought in four hundred years that coffee would become my life saver, but it had.

  While I stood in the long queue, the three immortals hung around outside the café, watching me. They paced within their small space and waited for me, but then disappeared after I had sat down in the café to read the paper while I sipped at a snail’s pace on a cappuccino.

  The moment I was certain that the immortals had left, I called a cab, and was delivered to the entrance of my place of work. I did not feel like having the blood drained out of my immortal human body today, or any day for that matter. I had no desire to enter the endless blackness of nothingness—no existence ... unable to return to the spiritual realm.

  I couldn’t even think about it without dry wrenching. It upset my being with an unbearable ugliness unknown to the humans.

  High on caffeine, I changed into my work uniform and presented myself with calmness at Elevator Thirteen. The up and down of the elevator day had already begun, and I was fifteen minutes late.

  In a hyper alerted state, I watched the comings and goings around me, and waited in earnest for a visit from the boss. My prediction was that he would be standing in front of me within the next three minutes.

  And I was not disappointed.

  ‘Mr. O’Connell, step into the elevator and close the doors.’

  I stared at him for a moment in time before I stepped inside the elevator with him and closed the doors as he instructed. He held his mouth in a straight serious line.

  I was about to be fired from my job, I was certain of it.

  I breathed in through my nose, hoping that the elevator would still smell of fresh roses from yesterday’s cleaning, calming my boss and filling him with mercy towards me.

  ‘Sir,’ I said to him tilting my head in respect to him.

  He squared his shoulders towards me, in an aggressive passive gesture.

  ‘Mr. O’Connell, it has come to my attention that you left your elevator yesterday before the close of day. Is this correct?’ he asked with menace in his voice.

  ‘Yes sir,’ I responded, and waited with my hands held firmly behind my straightened back, as if standing at attention and waiting for an order from the sergeant.

  ‘And then today Mr. O’Connell, you were fifteen minutes late for your shift. Is this correct?’

  ‘Yes sir,’ I responded, keeping my voice even. I was out doing good deeds sir. You would be very proud of me had you known why I left my elevator yesterday, and why I was late today …

  Mr. Wilson stared at me, and then looked to the wall on his left with his lips pressed together in a hard line. ‘Mrs. Rossetti phoned me to inform me of your actions with herself and her dog yesterday. She wanted me to give you a raise in your salary for going above and beyond your mere duties of Elevator Operator, however ... ’ Mr. Wilson stared at me, lifted his chin and looked down upon me, his intention to unnerve me.

  I maintained eye contact with him, resisting the urge to remove my white glove and touch his skin to send my amnis to the core of his brain. I refrained, deciding that I would be using an unfair advantage over him. I must not interfere with the course of consequences for acts.

  ‘We do not reward our employees for feats of heroism Mr. O’Connell. I do though … acknowledge your kindness towards a long term and valued resident of the Metropolis Mirage. And for you tardiness to work this morning, do you have a valid reason that will absolve you from discipline?’

  Well, I was almost brutalised in broad daylight by a group of immortals who wanted to drain my body of its blood to partially satisfy their blood-lust, I think, or just kill me ...

  ‘No sir. It was remiss of me to not to adhere to my work responsibilities, and I sincerely apologize,’ I replied to his question, slightly bowing my head in respect to my employer.

  ‘Mr. O’Connell, I must issue you with your second strike against your name. You are aware of our three strikes and you are out policy are you not?’ he questioned raising his eyebrows.

  ‘Yes sir, I am. Clause 1.3.1.3.1 of the Elevator Operator Contract.’

  ‘Good day then Mr. O’Connell,’ Mr. Wilson said, and indicated that our time together had come to a close.

  ‘Good day to you Mr. Wilson,’ I returned, and opened the elevator doors for him to exit, much to my relief.

  I waited to the count of ten, then closed the doors and bee-lined to the thirteenth floor to make a visit to Mr. Milani. He was standing at his red filing cabinet when I stopped at the entry to his office. The glass wall vibrated to the ceiling when I knocked three times to alert him of my presence.

  ‘Henry!’ he exclaimed with joy as he turned at the sound of the knocking.

  ‘Good morning Mr. Milani. I have impeded upon you without a new client, and for that I am sorry … I would like to ask how Mr. and Mrs. Camden are doing, and also to ask when I will be able to deliver them to the ground floor of the building. People have noticed that they have not returned and are avoiding Elevator Thirteen for that reason.’

  ‘Henry. Do not fret. They are due for release from the extraction cells at 1:30pm today. I shall see you then ... yes?’

  ‘Absolutely, without fail Mr. Milani. And ... thank-you,’ I added for good measure before I left to return to my office, sailing it down the elevator shaft to the ground floor. When the doors opened, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

  She sat there on the white leather sofa alone, waiting, twirling her hair around her finger like a school girl. Her long legs were crossed and her knees were showing.

  She was nervous. There was no doubt about that by the way that she jigged her leg up and down and looked from left to right and right to left again. But, she was also full of anger. It showed in her eyes and the way that she checked her cell phone for messages in a quick abrupt manner.

  In the next minute, Mr. McEwan appeared, worse for wear, probably due to the effects of too much alcohol the evening before. His head snapped quickly to his left when he saw Sarah, and his eyes widened in a look of panic. In a defensive reflex, his hand shot up at her, his palm facing outwards, warning her off. He looked to his right at my open elevator doors and rushed inside, almost closing the doors before I did.

  ‘Which floor Sir?’

  ‘Eight—hold on ... aren’t you the guy at the bar last night ... when I was ... ’ his voice and words were indecisive, either from fear, or alcohol induced memory loss.

  I frowned at him and pierced my honey-brown coloured contact lens eyes into his.

  His face froze momentarily, and then he shook his head. ‘No—he had blue eyes. Mistaken identity, I apologize.’

  I pressed my lips together, smiled and nodded my head at him. He thanked me as he left the elevator, still unsure of whether I was Henry or Liam.

  Returning to the heart of the building, I was greeted by an impatient Sarah Flynn. She tapped her foot as she stood directly in front of my elevator. The sound of her tapping on the marble floor barged into the elevator and bounced off the walls. Like a bull at a gate, she entered Elevator Thirteen with her rage in tow.

  ‘Good morning Miss Flynn. Floor eight I presume?’ I inquired, absolutely certain that she was headed there on a mission of revenge.

  She stood in the centre of the elevator and nodded her head at me with determination. I looked down and smiled to myself. Her anger with him and boldness to face him was good. But my smile faded as I became worried about her. Was she in the right state of mind?

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw her head turn my way with caution. She looked with high interest at my face before she blinked and swallowed.

  ‘Henry, pardon me if I am wrong but, you look, sound and smell like Liam—exactly, except for the eye colour.’

  I turned my body to face her.

  ‘I am a double agent,’ I responded to her.

  ‘You are?’ Her voice rose with shock.


  She believed me? I pushed the stop button on the elevator. ‘No Miss Flynn. I was toying with you, trying to cheer you up. Is there anything that I can help you with?’

  ‘No—only if you know how to deal with a freak who attacked me last night and then spent the entire night sending inappropriate texts to me!’ A tear slipped from her eye and she wiped it away on the back of her hand as she handed me her cell phone.

  My heart saddened for her while I speed read through the messages from Elliot McEwan.

  Mr. McEwan—perhaps I should have touched you up with a bit more violence to help your choices?

  ‘And you’re headed there to see him now?’ I asked in a quiet voice.

  ‘Yes. It will just be the three of us. Elliott, me and my gun,’ she said without emotion like it was an everyday occurrence.

  My heart stopped momentarily as adrenalin surged through my body.

  Her intent was to murder him?

  Without warning, she burst out laughing hysterically. ‘I’m kidding Henry. I don’t even own a gun! I just want to make certain that he knows that if he ever tries to do anything like that to me again, I am going to saw his pleasure centre off, cut them up and send them to him in the post!’

  Blood drained from my face as she spoke of her intention; I felt faint before stars appeared before my eyes. I took a deep breath to restore my physical state.

  She turned her head and looked at me with eyes full of remorse. ‘No. I have a personal AVO—apprehended violence order—that I want to deliver to him. His text messages were the perfect evidence that I needed to be able to get protection from him.’

  ‘Would you like me to accompany you to his office Miss Flynn?’

  ‘Thank-you, but no. It is something that I have to do myself. Personally, I want to see the look on his pretty boy face as he reads the contents of the envelope,’ Sarah said in a voice that was barely audible. She burnt her eyes into the elevator doors with steel determination.