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Authors: H.R. Moore

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BOOK: Origin of the Body
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After a couple of minutes, as my energy was finally starting to settle down, I realised we were going totally the wrong way.  ‘You do know my guest house is the other way,’ I said casually.

‘Is it?’ he replied offhandedly, ‘that’s a relief.  I guessed you were staying at the Rollister, but the Petersburg was also an option, which is this way.  It would be such a shame to cut the evening short when it’s such a lovely night for a stroll down to the harbour.’  He was lying of course, and to prove it, at that moment, large splotches of rain water started exploding on the cobbles around us.  We laughed and he dropped his arm from my shoulder, seizing my hand and pulling me into a run.  ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘my place isn’t that far from here.’

We ran through the streets, the rain so heavy there were already pools of water collecting between the cobbles, Jeff careful to avoid them.  I’m not really sure why he bothered, as by the time we fell through his front door we were both drenched to the bone.  He pushed the door closed behind us and somehow, as though it were part of the same movement, pulled me to him, his lips hovering just above mine for several tantalising beats, my body like a coiled spring demanding to be released, every cell silently screaming at him, as his eyes reticently studied the lips they wanted him to kiss.  And then, with a strange kind of illicit hesitance, he lowered his lips to mine, pulling at the soft, impatient skin he found there, slowly at first, and then, like he was gradually winning some silent, undecided, internal battle, building until his mouth moved with a desperate urgency, his hands on the small of my back, pulling me to him, mine grabbing handfuls of his hair.  He won his inner fight, picking me up and carrying me to his bedroom, where his deft and dominant hands undid first my belt and then the zip that held my dress in place.  It fell unceremoniously to the floor, along with his shoes, jacket, tie, and shirt.  He led me to the bed, pushed me onto my back and climbed on top, looking down at me with unseeing, reckless eyes.

 

*****

 

Afterwards, we lay in silence, my head on his chest, his hand playing lightly along my arm, when he suddenly rolled me onto my back, his head above mine.  ‘Stay with me,’ he said coarsely, ‘in Kingdom.  Don’t go back to Empire.’

I looked up at him, considering his words as he ran inquisitive fingers across my lips, cheek, neck.  ‘What would I do here?’

‘I don’t know.  Any number of things.  You could trade?  Look after your parents’ business affairs here?  Or just live with me and I’ll look after you.’

I couldn’t help but laugh.  ‘No contact for four months and then this?  What about my parents telling Tobias?’

‘You said yourself you can take care of them.’

I looked up at him, trying to read his unreadable eyes.  ‘Okay,’ I said simply, easily, the word just came out, like it had a mind of its own.

His face broke into a broad smile and he hugged me, rolling onto his back and pulling me with him, refusing to let me go.  He kissed me again before allowing me wriggle back to the comfort of his chest, arms wrapped around me like they would never let me go.

I managed to make it back to the Rollister early enough so only the receptionist knew of my night time absence.  She smiled indulgently before averting her gaze; I took this as a clear signal she would pretend she hadn’t seen me.  I’d come back bare foot, carrying my shoes, with one of Jeff’s shirts over the top of my still damp dress.  He’d insisted on walking me back, but I’d made him leave me at the end of the road for safety, giving him a brief peck on the lips and telling him I’d see him later.  He’d pulled me back for a proper, final kiss and then let me go.  I looked back when I reached the front door and he hadn’t moved an inch, still watching my every step.  I rolled my eyes, smiled and blew him a sarcastic kiss before making my way in as quietly as I could…’

 

‘Not sure I’d write all that in a diary,’ Anita laughed as she closed the notebook.

‘Me neither,’ replied Alexander, grabbing Anita roguishly and kissing her passionately before letting her go, laughing.  He lay back on the grass and looked up at the moon that had now appeared in the dying light of day.  ‘So what do you think Helena’s getting at?’

‘I honestly don’t know.  Still don’t think we’ve got to the crux of it.  All the stuff Jeff says about the Institution is basically a carbon copy of what Helena told me, so I don’t think that’s it.  It seems like the Descendants were the same then as they are now; Tobias was certainly viewed a great deal like Austin is today.  I don’t know, what do you think?’  Anita was trying to concentrate on the matter in hand but the base of Alexander’s muscular stomach had been revealed as he lay down and there was nothing she could do to stop herself from reaching out and running a hand over the exposed, washboard flesh.

‘Not a clue.  I agree we haven’t got to the good stuff yet.’  The corners of Alexander’s mouth twitched triumphantly as he felt the change in Anita’s energy.  He sat up so their torsos were in line, Anita facing one way and Alexander the other, Anita shivering as the sun dipped behind the horizon, although she couldn’t say if it was the cold or Alexander’s proximity that had caused it.  ‘Do you think we should stay until we’ve found out what she wants us for?’

Anita took a deep breath.  ‘I don’t see why not.  We don’t seem to be in any immediate danger,’ she smiled at him, ‘and being here does have its advantages.  But let’s not speak to Helena about the diary until we’ve read it all.  I don’t want to give anything away until we know what we’re dealing with.’

 

*****

 

Alexander and Anita eventually returned to the farm, and to their astonishment arrived to find a barn dance in full swing.  Bails of straw had been placed roughly around the sides of the barn beneath which they had been held captive, a band had set up at one end, people enthusiastically swinging each other around the make-shift dance floor in the middle, and just outside, a barbeque was churning out a mountain of venison burgers, chicken and halloumi kebabs, and sweet potato chips.  Anita recognised a few of the dancers from breakfast and lunch, who seemed to already have consumed a great deal of the dubious looking rum punch sitting on a trestle table just inside the barn door.

Anita and Alexander made their way towards the side of the barn and were just about to sit down on a bail of straw when a couple came and grabbed their hands, pulling them to the dance floor.  The band pounded out a manic pace, and the middle aged man who had grabbed Anita started energetically careering around the floor, just about taking her with him, narrowly avoiding the other dancers.  Despite herself, Anita had a broad grin across her face; there was nothing she loved more than to dance, and before she knew it, she was twirling him just as vigorously.  Alexander seemed to be having just as good a time with his, much younger, much more attractive partner, and a pang of irrational jealousy ripped through her.  The music stopped, she thanked the man for the dance and made her way quickly to Alexander before he and the girl could start dancing again.  The girl had left her hand resting unnecessarily on Alexander’s arm, so Anita took his hand when she reached them, pulling him towards her as the music started for the next song.

‘Dance?’ she suggested, her voice neutral, but her actions sending a very clear message to the girl, whoever she was.  Alexander said nothing, choosing instead to pick Anita up and spin her around before placing her back on her feet and whirling them deftly around the floor.  He was smiling inwardly at the jealousy he had read in Anita’s energy, as Anita silently scolded herself for being so ridiculous.  She knew Alexander had no interest whatsoever in the other girl; she could read his energy for goodness sake, but she was very glad his hands were now firmly on her waist.  They danced four consecutive songs in a row before pausing to help themselves to some of the shady looking punch.  Anita was about to pull him back for more, when to her surprise, Anderson and Bas appeared in the doorway.  Alexander felt Anita’s energy change and turned to see why, his energy reacting in a similarly uncertain way when he saw.

‘Anderson,’ he said, not even trying to hide his shock.  ‘I didn’t realise you were a member.’

Anderson looked a bit sheepish.  ‘Yeah, have been for a while actually.  Didn’t think this would be your bag though?’

‘It’s not.  Long story.’

‘And you, Bas?’ asked Anita.  ‘Are you a member too?’

‘Um…I…I’m not sure yet.  Anderson introduced me to the concept.  I like their goal; energy stability is for the good of everyone.  But I asked dad about the Institution and he flipped.  I’ve never seen him react so badly to anything.  Ever.  So I said I’d come along tonight and just see what it’s all about, but I’m not convinced it’s going to be for me.’

This whole thing was getting crazier and crazier Anita thought, downing her punch.  ‘Come on,’ she said to Bas.  ‘You’re the only person I know who loves to dance as much as me and I think Alexander’s had enough.’  She took Bas’ hand and led him to the dance floor, feeling over the moon when Alexander’s energy reacted just as negatively to her dancing with Bas as hers had when he had danced with that other girl.  Bas took the lead, confidently spinning and lifting her as they looped around the floor.

By the time they had had enough, Alexander was dancing with Helena, which Anita was pleased to note she was not in the least bit emotional about.  Bas left her by the punch, said he would see her later and made his way towards Anderson, who was beckoning him, clearly wanting to introduce him to someone or other.  Anita took a seat on one of the bales, and watched the spectacle the other, now decidedly drunken, dancers were making.

Almost immediately, a tall, finely built woman Anita didn’t recognise came and sat down next to her.  She was strangely familiar, but Anita had no idea why.  ‘You two make a great couple,’ she said in a drawling accent, her tone anything but sincere and her energy on the hostile side of neutral.

‘Bas and I aren’t a couple,’ she replied evenly, not elaborating further, feeling more than a little uncomfortable.

‘I wasn’t talking about you and Bas.  I was talking about you and Alexander.’  Anita turned to look at the women but didn’t say anything.  She didn’t know what to say.  The woman didn’t exactly seem to be friendly and clearly had some sort of ulterior motive, so she just kept quiet.  ‘You’ve caused quite a commotion recently, lots of interest in who you really are,’ she said steadily, looking at the dancers rather than at Anita.  It was like she wasn’t really that interested in having a conversation, yet clearly that was what she had come over for, so Anita cut to the chase.

‘I’m sorry, but do I know you?’ she asked, not unkindly.

‘You know of me,’ said the woman, finally turning her head to look at Anita.  Anita met her eyes and her energy reacted at once, they were eyes she had come to know extremely well, eyes that also belonged to another.  To Marcus.

‘Amelia,’ said Anita, guardedly, ‘it’s a pleasure to meet you.  I’ve heard a great deal about you.’

‘And I you.  And yet here you are, with Alexander.’

‘Marcus and I broke up.’

‘Yesterday.’

‘Technically yesterday, but it’s been coming for quite a while.’  Amelia said nothing, her unwavering eyes seeming to penetrate Anita’s soul, reading all they could find there.  Where Marcus’ eyes were always busy, flitting from here to there seeking entertainment, Amelia’s eyes were serious, old, wise, grounded.  They were eyes that judged, taking no prisoners.

When she had read all she could, she sat back against the barn wall, turning her gaze back to the dance floor.  ‘He loves you.  You do know that?’

Anita wanted to get up, to leave, to tell her this was none of her business.  They had only just met, for Gods’ sake, what right did she have to make this so purposefully awkward?  She didn’t though.  ‘He says he loves me, but he’s also said many things that frighten me.  He’s changing as the days go by; Austin is moulding him into the kind of monster he wants for a son, the kind of person who thinks he can dictate who I can and cannot see, who trails my every move, who thinks it’s fine to demand rent from farmers when their crops are failing and they have nothing to give.  You of all people should know why I did what I did.’

‘Really?’ she spat.  ‘And pray tell me why is that?’

This sudden change in approach took Anita off guard, but she decided honesty was the best policy.  ‘Because from what others have told me, you left Austin for similar reasons.’

‘In small part you’re right, meaning in large part you’re wrong.  At least I finally got to meet you,’ she said, standing up and leaving the barn, walking with the grace of a much younger person.  Anita was pondering the conversation when Alexander came and sat down next to her, handing her another punch and feeling the confusion in her energy.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, concerned.  ‘What did she say?’

‘Think she’s pretty pissed about me dumping Marcus, not to mention that there is something going on between me and you, and she said something cryptic about her relationship with Austin, something about them not really splitting up because of him turning into Tobias…’

Alexander raised his eyebrows.  ‘Well tonight has been eye opening if nothing else,’ he said, draining his glass.  ‘Who would have thought the Institution was so well attended.  I had no idea about Anderson.’

‘And I can’t believe Bas is here,’ said Anita, ‘especially against Alistair’s wishes; Bas never keeps things from him.  And it seems likely that Alistair is the Alistair in the diary, meaning if he’s opposed, he’s frankly a bit of a hypocrite.’

BOOK: Origin of the Body
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