Breaking Away (The Man in the Shadows) (8 page)

I am your savior, your home. Soon, you will be with me, forever. You will save me.

“What?” Her soft voice got louder, more hostile. “I don’t understand.”

You don’t have to understand. All you must know is that in three days, you will be with me, forever.

“Forever...” she repeated, her voice drifting. In three days time was finally the day she had been looking forward to all year, her 25th birthday. “No, I’m not supposed to save you, Dark Lord.
He’s
supposed to save
me
!” Jumping up from her seat and running outside, slapping herself in the face, she asked herself frantically, “What am I saying? Is someone in control of my words?!”

Out of nowhere, her forward motion suspended, dissolving her legs so she fell to her knees. She felt complete peace when she hit the ground and her eyes closed. Fearlessness and intrepidity took over in this moment of terror. Those arms she longed for were around her now, and together they were falling, calmly falling into a lonely, yet comforting darkness. She allowed herself to be carried against his muscular body, effortlessly holding her up and preventing her from plummeting into the unknown depths. Her puzzle piece was with her again; she needn’t wonder any longer. An unlikely scenario, which she felt was just an illusion, loosing her sanity, was real. She felt his feet hit a solid surface, and a minute later her feet gently found a solid footing. Becoming more conscious of him, she realized she was holding his freehand in hers. She looked up, and to her delight she met his eyes of piercing blue ice.

Smiling shyly, she asked, “What is your name?”

Cupping her face in both of his hands, his deep, articulate voice answered, “I’ve been waiting a long time to formally introduce myself to you, Maika.” His hands burned like an open flame, and she leaned her cheek into his palm tenderly. “My name is James.”

“James...” Beaming, she said his name, as if the act of saying it made him more and more concrete, authenticated. “James.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you... officially.” Bringing his face close to hers, their lips almost touching, he drew his face past hers, their lips brushing against one another, and rapidly plastered his cheek to hers. “You’re the reason I live.”

Maika’s heart shot into her throat. Having no idea why this was happening, only knowing it was the one thing her life’s journey had been pushing her towards, she began her hands towards his neck, searching. Memories rushing back to her with his words, she remembered him saying the exact same thing back at the club. He had asked a question then, which she never dug into and answered. So she asked, “Why did you reveal yourself to me? You’re the man in the shadows...”

Pleased, he backed away from her, to unveil the locale to which he had brought her. It was an office, sprawling and magnificent, like that of a royal steward. It had a window from floor to ceiling, and through it she witnessed the slow rise of a sun in a bright purple sky. She gasped, taken aback.

Before he could answer her question, he rushed back to her side, concerned. “What’s the matter?”

“The... the sky. I’ve seen it before... I’ve been here before...”

Confused, he stated matter-of-factly, “That’s impossible! The
door
... it’s... it is locked.”

Tears building up at the corners of her eyes, she said, “I was in a trance. A tall, thin man took me... I thought I was dreaming...”

“That was no dream,” James said sternly, anger flaring up within him. “He’s the one talking to you. I heard his voice in your apartment; the voice that frightened you.” Aggravated, he exhaled raucously. “He’s been pushing me out.” He took her by the arm then, rushed her over to his massive oak desk, and sat her down in his office chair, right next to the window. “He can’t find you here,” James said, heart pounding. “He’d kill me, and he’d likely kill you, too.”

Upset, a tear ran down the side of Maika’s nose, and onto her lips. She said, timidly, “James... I trust you. I don’t know why, but I do.” Nervously, she began playing with a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. “What is going on? Why is my life in danger?”

Licking his lips, he struggled with his response. Should he let her in on the secret? He had, beyond all odds, brought her to his world, before she was 25 years of age and
without
using the door. He didn’t think it would be possible, but he asked the Magi for it regardless, just to see what would happen when he heard the strange voice beckoning her on Earth, in her apartment. To his surprise, it had worked. Now that he was here, with her, he had no further plans. He did not expect the Magi to bring him here, without use of the door, without any of his fellow Luminite’s seeing him. Seeing
her.
There was much he still didn’t understand, but she trusted him blindly.

“There’s much I regrettably can’t tell you. If I did, it might topple everything over. It’s delicate.”

Not satisfied, she yelled, “If I’m not going crazy, then what the
hell
is this place? And who are you?”

James huffed, exasperated, and decided she deserved to know the things about which her questions were aimed. He answered, slowly, “This place is a different world. Like the Earth that you know, but on a different dimension. Equal yet opposite, they each rely on the other for stability.” He leaned against the desk in front of her, and crossed his arms over his chest, staring out at the mountains. “You are that stability, Maika. And I’m your guardian.”

***

Holding a gun to her head, she physically shook with fear. Her mouth was bound, as well as her hands and feet. Effectively, she was hog tied to a chair, and there was no way she would be able to escape now. Tears streaked her face and soaked the cloth that gagged her mouth, muffling her cries. Not understanding why this was happening, she stared forward, a plain plaster wall the only thing that was in her field of vision, not knowing what to think. The barrel of the gun was pressed so hard to her skull, she figured there was probably a bruise there, maybe even broken skin.
Better than a bullet flying through my cranium,
she thought, cynically.

Angry, agitated, her captor was on the phone with the police. They were trying to negotiate her release while the man paraded across the room, every so often he’d come back and thrust the metal weapon to her head once more. The man spoke in their native tongue, Afrikaans, and the more he spoke, the more indignant he became.

Listening to him shout, she also became outraged; not at him, not even at the slippery situation that she now found herself in, but at herself. She had moved to America with him to start a new life. Who would have known that he had different intensions than she did? He came to America in order to lie, and to cheat the system, and when she had found out about his ill will and illegal activity she had gone to the authorities, and he turned against her in retaliation, in order to save himself. Or so he thought holding a hostage would somehow save his own skin.

He rabidly screamed into the phone’s receiver, “I will not give up! If you attempt to come into this house, I will kill her!”

He was serious. Baruti, her love, the man she had trusted with her love, with her life, was serious about killing her. Murder. The gun was cocked, his finger shaking on the trigger. She could have chosen anyone; she was a catch that many men had tried to court in her home country. Her skin was smooth and rich like milk chocolate, and her hair was all curls and wild. Her light brown eyes, like almonds, were framed by curled eyelashes and shapely eyebrows. Her lips were full and sexy, to go along with her long neck and limbs. She had the appearance of an African princess. Giving up her career as a model to be with Baruti, she had felt confident in her move, in her new life. It was too late to even call her trust, her instincts, a mistake.

“I don’t want money, I just don’t want to go to jail. Let me escape, and she lives.”

Still staring at the white plaster wall in front of her face, she was suddenly thankful that she was situated behind him. Just the thought of his face, so handsome, so cold, was enough to make her feel sick. She wasn’t sure if she could even bare to look at him now. Rage building up within her, she wanted to fight, but she didn’t want to die. The police needed to do something before she had a heart attack from the immense amount of stress she had built up inside.

Caught unawares, a silent bullet shot the gun from Baruti’s hand. “Shit!” he exclaimed in English, looking around quickly, trying to determine where the potentially deadly round had come from. Confused, grasping his injured hand, he couldn’t figure out the bullet’s trajectory. Meanwhile, she silently sighed, because she did not have the metal pressure against her skin any longer or the immanent threat of death. Plus, she knew for a fact, that the gun that was shot from his hand was the only firearm that Baruti had in the room.

He backed away from the one and only window in the room, inching closer to her. She turned her head away from him, not wanting even a brief glimpse of his face. Out of an unknown corner of the room or out of the ceiling or maybe even out of thin air, several men, who she later discovered were with the SWAT team, jumped on Baruti before he even knew what was happening. Each of the men was yelling, “You’re under arrest! Don’t resist! You’re done!”

Her head fell to her chest, praising the Lord for her life. She had lived! With the gag still in her mouth, she began to sob. Once Baruti was handcuffed and dragged out of the room, one of the men on the SWAT team came over and kneeled in front of her. He took the gag out of her mouth at once, and she coughed, having been choking on her own saliva for what seemed like forever. She gasped for air and smiled at the man through her tears, grateful for his very existence.

He smiled back, glad to see she was relatively unharmed, and said, “Zareh... you’re safe now.” The man cut the duct tape from her wrists and ankles and helped her to her feet. More tears streamed down her face, but this time not in fear, but in joy.

Zareh choked, “Thank you” as she hobbled towards the door and down the stairs. Curiously, she asked, “How did you sneak in? I thought for sure he’d notice you and shoot.”

“We’re trained for situations like this,” he answered, proud of his extensive emergency training. “A helicopter dropped us off on the roof. We came in that way, and snuck into the ceiling. We moved a ceiling tile, and pounced on him.” He chuckled, holding her arm. “We brought our sharp shooter with us. The silencer on his gun helped a great deal.”

“Absolutely.” At a loss for words, she said again, “Thank you,” adding, “You don’t even know.”

“I might have an idea,” he replied, winking at her. “There was a greater power at work here. I somehow knew this would turn out for the better.”

Zareh and her rescuer got to the main door of the building, and he curtly opened it for her. The bright light forced her eyes to squint, and for a moment she couldn’t see anything at all; everything was a solid white wall of light. She could hear a large crowd cheer as she was revealed unharmed, and a mixture of voices were calling out to her. Only one voice mattered, and she listened for it. Knowing she’d be there, she heard the familiar, loving voice rising above the rest, picking it out of the noise. As her eyes began to become used to the sunlight, she was wrapped in a hug, like a comforting, warm blanket, and a voice whispered in her ear, soaked by tears, “Zareh...”

Smiling, she replied, “Maika...”

“I thought I’d never see you again!” Sobbing, Maika leaned back a little in order to look into Zareh’s soft, sienna eyes. She studied them, unbelieving that she was doing so, and laughed. “I love you. Never forget that, Girl.”

“Maika... I saw my life flash before my eyes. He was a muscle twitch away from blowing my brains out...” she trailed off, the reality of the fate that almost realized itself hit her. “I’m alive,” she whispered, looking at Maika intently. “I’m really alive, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are! And I’ve never been happier.” Trying not to burst with the joy of her friends’ survival, she held back another sob to say, “Come here,” grasped Zareh’s shoulders and enveloped her in another embrace.

In the distance, in the concealing shadow of a large elm tree, James stood, smiling.

***

Something unexpected made its way through the door when James did, made its way to Earth, using him as a host. It was hidden secretly within his brain, within his soul, when Lamin had given him the Magi, the magic set of his elders. It was invisible, undetectable, just as it was designed to be by its creator. It was added onto the Magi, a spell that only Lamin knew was being undertaken. The spell gave Lamin a type of surveillance; it let him see everything through James’s eyes. This way, he could keep track of the things he did, the things he didn’t do, and most importantly, the things he did wrong.

Of course, Greta knew nothing about this. It was his dirty little secret.

Thus, he could see everything that James could see. Lamin watched Maika grow up into a beautiful, gracious, giving woman. He witnessed some tragedies in her life. Well, what should have been tragedies. Lamin noticed that many of the tragic moments in her life weren’t really tragic at all, as if she was caught by a safety net before she hit rock bottom, always. Seeing everything from a first person perspective, Lamin knew why. James used the Magi that
he
had given him,
trusting
him with all the power of the universe, to reverse fate. To trick fate. This was strictly forbidden when Lamin told him the few rules of the mission. Magic was not used on Earth, no one had that power; for this reason, he was not to use magic to change anything, only to conceal himself and protect her life. Fate was a reality on Earth. “Don’t meddle,” he had said, sternly. “Only intervene if absolutely necessary, to save the Corner Stone.”

James thought his interventions would be accepted, as they were helping the Corner Stone, Maika, live a better life. James’s theory was, the better life she led, fixed and manipulated by his hand, the more likely she was to join him back to Monde de Lumière when the time came. Sound logic, but faulty logic. He was blatantly going against the rules that the High Lord had set forth for him to follow, and he was
expected
to follow them. Knowing that he was in another world, James didn’t think that his High Lord would get wind of his transgressions. That was not the first time that James had tried to pull the wool over Lamin’s eyes. High and dry, in and out, lickity split. James being a military leader, of all people, should have known the importance of following orders by now. But something had changed. Something that Lamin didn’t notice right away, nor expect.