***
After a long night, Keterlyn climbed into bed after undressing. As she slipped under the covers, she knocked free a small panel of wood from the bed. It fell to the ground unnoticed, and apparently unimportant. Sighing, she relaxed into the sheets.
Just as she felt sleep stroke her eyes and body, relaxing her into slumber, something else eased under the sheets as well. Unaware, Keterlyn let herself drift into relaxation. After a moment of summoning its power, an arm slinked over Keterlyn, and materialized under the covers. It stroked her skin and though it took Keterlyn a moment to realize what was happening, when she did she gasped in horror, and jumped from the bed.
Glaring back at the bed as though it betrayed her, the image of Lormorian, bare- chested and leaning against one arm corporialised. Unlike before, when he was vague and unsubstantiated, there was Lormorian, fully formed, as though she shared a room with her.
Keterlyn was mortified. “How are you doing this? You shouldn’t be able to find me.”
Lormorian made a fake frown. “Can't an old dog learn new tricks?” Soon enough, his face returned to the usual confident, unemotional stare Keterlyn was accustomed to. “Kitti was always my favourite name for you. Kitti, you might think I'm angry with you but it's not true. True you have eluded me for 800 years…”
“826.” Keterlyn interrupted.
Lormorian wore a look of distaste. “True, I can't take another wife while you still live and breathe the life I gave you, but honey, you know you're the only one for me. Come home now. It's time to stop playing - show me where you are. Choose wisely. I'm getting creative with my torture and bag of tricks these days. I’ll find you, then I'll come for you.”
Keterlyn laughed which angered Lormorian further. “Fine, laugh if you want. But it doesn't really matter. You'll be coming to me soon enough anyhow.”
“Just like that?” Keterlyn’s voice laden with sarcasm challenged Lormorian.
“Just like that.” he replied with a disturbing lack of concern. Knowing he had her on the defensive, Lormorian disappeared, leaving Keterlyn staring anxiously at her empty bed.
Unable to sleep, Keterlyn fled from the apartment, knowing she was no longer safe, but not knowing why.
Keterlyn instead went to meet with Violet, in the least likely place anyone who knew her, would think to find her.
Keterlyn sat on the quiet church pew, and Violet all but laughed out loud when she saw her friend sitting there so demure, hunched over and looking as though she might even be praying, though Violet knew better. Having responded to her friend’s distress call immediately, Violet hadn’t even changed from the red leather pants and near see through gold shirt she sported. The two other people in the church stared at her, condemning.
“I believe they call this irony.” Violet said, resting in to the hard pew beside Keterlyn, putting her feet up one over the other resting on the pew in front of her.
Keterlyn leaned back next to Violet. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to pray.… Violet. Something is wrong. That he can find me, even though he isn’t really there…it scares the hell out of me. How is it he can be there, but not?”
Violet passed Keterlyn a trash newspaper. The headline read – Death by Mummy Curse. An image of a contorted body, partially mummified in appearance.
Tylor Keterlyn rued. One of her last coven, who had clearly been drained by a Life Leech. Keterlyn tried to distance herself but it hurt. Maybe she could have helped, could have tried, but at what cost?
“Maybe this is how is he finding you?” Violet said.
“How would killing one of my last coven help Lor find me? It never made a difference before.”
Violet shrugged. “Magic isn’t really my thing. Killing things is though. Maybe it’s time to stop running.” Violet was so strong willed, so eager to bring things back under control, Keterlyn was envious.
“You know what will happen. He dies, I die. We share the same life source.”
“You can’t run forever. Especially not if he is closing in…”
Keterlyn snapped her head around to look at Violet. “Watch me.” The two looked silently at one another. “Fighting is also your thing though isn’t it?” Keterlyn enquired.
“Only one better than me is Viktor, but he lets me win anyway.”
“I think you can help us Violet.”
“Us? It’s ‘us’ now, not just you.” Violet tormented Keterlyn lovingly.
“I’m not bringing another group of people together. Not so soon. This coven is it. It’s a group with potential.” Keterlyn had sounded more passionate than she had intended and of course Violet had picked up on it.
“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were really attached to them. Or maybe one.”
Keterlyn ran her shoulder in to her friend. “Don’t be foolish.” She answered Violet, avoiding the issue.
“Fine.” Violet conceded. “In the meantime, I guess if we can’t kill him, I’ll have to settle for fighting if you’re sure there’s no other way?”
“No, but I know I’m not going back. Can you meet me tomorrow, help me do what needs to be done?”
Violet, seeing her friend’s angst tried to cheer her up. “Not even over my already dead body.” With that Violet stood, stretched and after winking, strolled away leaving Keterlyn smiling at her comment.