Born of Darkness. Rita Vetere
entry to the house. The doors and windows were all locked. Neither had they found any injuries or evidence to indicate her sister had been trying to defend herself against an attacker. Dora refused to believe Lilli would try to harm herself, even though her mental state had not been the best since Charlie’s death. Lilli would never have risked harming her baby; of that, Dora was absolutely certain.
It wasn’t until she was on her hands and knees, scrubbing her dead sister’s blood from the living room floor, that Dora finally broke down. The act proved more than she could bear. She sat back on her haunches and sobbed, letting out some of the emotion she had held back until now. She cried for a long time, and when her outpouring of grief was over, she felt cleansed of the worst of it, at least.
Wiping away the last of her tears, she was about to turn back to her repugnant task when she caught a glint of sunlight reflecting off something on the side table. She got to her feet to investigate, and found a striking-looking antique silver necklace resting there. Must be Lilli’s. She picked it up to examine it, although she could not remember ever having seen her sister wear it. Even so, once she looked more carefully at the piece of jewelry, something about it struck her as familiar, and then she realized why.
She went upstairs to Lilli’s room and, in the closet, located the box where her sister kept her photographs. Dora flipped through them and found what she was looking for near the bottom, the photographs of her sister’s fateful trip to Morocco. Only two pictures had been taken in Marrakesh, where Charlie had died. One of the snapshots showed Lilli and Charlie on a terrace overlooking a square. The other was of the two of them in a marketplace. The second photo had been shot fairly close-up. Sure enough, in the picture, Lilli was sporting the pendant Dora now held in her hand. Why had her sister taken the necklace out after almost a year of never having worn it? It made Dora shiver to think Lilli had been wearing the pendant on the day Charlie died and had not taken it out again until the day of her own death.
Doubt began to creep in again. Had Lilli tried to kill herself? Was that why she had taken out the pendant? Had she planned the whole thing?
Dora understood she would never know for sure what had happened to Lilli, and the thought sent sadness flooding through her. Not knowing the truth just made everything worse. She decided to put the pendant away for now and placed it in the box, along with the photographs. When the time was right, she would give the necklace to Jasmine, along with the other things that had been important to her sister.
Back downstairs, she completed the odious task of scrubbing the living room floor of her sister’s blood, and then placed calls to the people she and Lilli were close to, to deliver the sad news of Lilli’s death. The last call she placed was to Tom. Dora knew Tom had been in love with her sister at one time, and thought he would want to know.
PART TWO
Immortality
Chapter 5
Tampa, Florida–Present Day
Jasmine Fairchild stared at T.K.’s handsome face as he slept. Predictably, the sound of his gentle snoring grated on her nerves, and she found herself becoming annoyed. A few minutes ago, caught up in the ecstasy of their lovemaking, he had captivated her, and she thought maybe, maybe this time would be different. But it wasn’t. After it was over, T.K. had flopped back, exhausted, telling her he’d never been with anyone like her before, and that she was amazing. Instead of feeling content to remain close to him, she found she couldn’t wait to get out of his bed, his apartment and his life. Just like all the others.
She lifted back the disheveled sheets and got up quietly, not wanting to wake him or to engage in the awkward conversation she knew would ensue. After slipping on her panties, and while looking around for her jeans, T.K.’s head popped up.
“Hey, where are you going?” His eyes betrayed that he desperately wanted her to stay.
The look only caused her irritation to increase. Why did she have to be like this? So hot before and so cold after.
“Can’t,” she said, offhandedly. She had learned from experience it was better not to drag it out. “Aunt Dora’s probably waiting up for me. Look, it was great and all, but I’ve gotta go.”
“When will I see you again?” he asked, too quickly.
“I dunno. I’m pretty busy what with mid-terms and working at the Blue Flame…” She knew how lame it sounded. She never had been any good at pretending.
T.K.’s look hardened. “Okay. I get it. The earth didn’t move for you. Sure had me fooled for a while there, though.”
“It’s not that.” She caught the annoyance in her tone and softened a bit. “It was great, actually. I just don’t—”
“Don’t what?”
“Nothing.” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. I just don’t feel anything for you, was what she had been about to say. She wanted nothing more to do with him. She pulled up her jeans and, under his scrutiny, collected her bra, hooked it up in the back and slipped her cotton t-shirt over her head. Stepping into her sandals, she hurried out the front door of his apartment without a backward glance, leaving T.K. to wonder what he had done wrong.
The red numbers on the digital clock displayed on the office building across the street told her it was nearly four in the morning as she exited the air-conditioned lobby of T.K.’s apartment and stepped into the steamy, sultry night. Home was fifteen minutes away, and despite the lateness of the hour and Aunt Dora’s constant lectures on not to walk the streets late at night, she decided to do just that, and headed south on Willow. The air was thick and still, and so laden with moisture that halos formed around the street lamps. Jasmine enjoyed the sweltering heat almost as much as most people found it oppressive. The sauna-like humidity never caused her to perspire or wilt. Like an exotic flower, she seemed to thrive on it.
She passed a coffee shop still open for business and stopped to buy a large cup of Columbian, black. She’d had too much to drink before going home with T.K. and didn’t want any grief from her aunt on the off-chance she might be waiting up for her. Back outside, stopped at an intersection waiting for the light to change, she rummaged through her purse for her cigarettes, brought one to her lips to light it, then jumped when a man’s voice spoke close by her ear. She hadn’t noticed anyone nearby.
“Looking for company?”
She turned and came face-to-face with a man in his late twenties, dressed in jeans and t-shirt with cut-off sleeves, a look no doubt designed to show off the musculature of his biceps which, admittedly, was impressive. His dark hair was cropped short and gelled, giving him a tough, dangerous look. He looked her up and down with wolf’s eyes.
Jasmine said nothing for a moment as she studied him, sizing him up. Her appetite for sex was large, and she found the prospect of taking him up on his offer tempting, but something about the rapacious gleam in his eye caused her to reconsider. She narrowed her jade eyes down to slits and she stared back hard at him. Forget it, asshole, you don’t want to do this. Walk away while you still can.
The man’s head jerked back in surprise. His expression quickly changed from salaciousness to one of confusion. She had not spoken a word.
The light changed to green and Jasmine continued to stare at him. That’s right. It’s all downhill from here, buddy. Walk away.
The man turned from her and hurried in the opposite direction as if he’d seen a ghost, looking back over his shoulder at her before picking up his pace. Jasmine crossed at the light and continued on her way home.
She was used to it. What had just happened had happened countless times before. She had come to think of her particular ability as “pressing”. Some were more susceptible to it than others, but it was something she had always been able to do, pressing her thoughts on people. She tried not to take advantage of the talent, generally preferring to play fair, but she had to admit, it came in pretty handy sometimes.
Once,