The Mephisto Mark: The Redemption of Phoenix
Then the strangest thing happened.
All the tension drained away and left me with a feeling I’d never had before. I was at peace. I still wanted her beneath me, wanted to be inside of her beautiful body, wanted to make love to her until she knew what it could be, but the insidious demand of that dark and twisted part of me was gone. I was awed. The tiny army disappeared and all that was left was me and Mariah and this incredible, indescribable feeling of contentment. I had the extraordinary thought that I had come home. Finally.
“Phoenix?” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Do you feel weird?”
“I feel wonderful.”
“It’s hot.” I started to pull away and she clutched me tighter. “No, I mean on the inside, like I drank tea before it cooled. And it’s going all through my body.”
Mephisto. She was already turning. Despite my determination not to, I thought of Jane, and remembered how many times we’d kissed, and how she was scarcely closer to Mephisto after three months than she’d been when we began.
But we’d never kissed like this. Jane would never have stripped off any article of clothing, much less her top, and pressed herself against me. If by some miracle, she had, she’d have felt my erection and completely freaked out.
Mariah was lying there smiling at me like I was the greatest thing in the universe, her tantalizing breasts pressed against my chest, her belly nestled against my very ready penis. She wasn’t afraid. She trusted me.
After all that time, I suppose my cluelessness meant I was an obtuse ass, but I recognized that Jane had been nervous of me. Not afraid, exactly, but anxious. Wary. And it hadn’t been because she was worried about sex.
She hadn’t consciously known the truth, but her instincts knew.
My constant companion, Mr. Guilt, plopped himself right down there on the bed, but for once, I chose to ignore him.
I kissed Mariah again.
I have no idea how long we laid in her bed and kissed and whispered, but I know for sure it was the happiest I’d ever been. I didn’t think about what would come, or how she’d change, despite the fact that I’d kissed her for just that purpose. I’d think about it later. At that moment, all I could focus on was Mariah and her soft, sweet lips, her slender, beautiful body.
Not until Deacon’s deep, solemn voice announced, “Breakfast is served. Allah is good,” did I remember reality.
I looked into her eyes, still dark blue, but far brighter than they’d been after Zee brought her home from Moscow. I hoped what I planned would work. She deserved happiness, unconditional love, and peace with her past. If I was successful, she’d have all those things.
I kissed her one more time. One last time. Forcing all emotion out of my head, I got off of the bed and retrieved my T-shirt. While I pulled it on, I lied to her. “I have to spend the day in Washington, working on the takedown we’re planning for Jordan’s birthday party. I’m sorry. I wish I could hang out with you instead.”
“It’s okay. I’m going to see Ty’s animals this morning, and Denys offered to show me more of the mountain this afternoon.”
“I’ll probably not get home until very late.”
“Will you come to see me?”
The hope in her voice nearly made me falter. I looked at her lying there, so soft and beautiful, and cursed my inheritance of M’s faults and my inability to rise above them. “Yes, I’ll be here.” But by then, she wouldn’t care. She wouldn’t look at me as she did now. She’d look at me as she did my brothers – a friend. Nothing more.
Before I said goodbye, I bent and stroked her silky hair, catching her scent for the last time.
Chapter 13
~~ Mariah ~~
For the first time in many years, I looked at myself in the mirror before I got in the shower. Running my fingers across the smooth skin of my breasts, I was still in awe of what Phoenix had done. Healing me was the greatest gift I’d ever received. Not only was the physical reminder gone, but giving voice to all the things I’d never even been able to consciously think about had made it not so horrific and frightening. His calm acceptance of what I’d stored in all my mental boxes was as incredible as it was freeing.
I was enormously grateful to him, but more than that, I was practically giddy with infatuation. I’d never felt anything like it, and wrapped it around me with all the wonder of a child. I didn’t think about his constant reminder that we would only ever be friends. At that moment, I didn’t care. Just being his friend was enough for me, although I admitted I’d be disappointed if he never kissed me again. I could never have conceived that kissing was so marvelous. Emilian had never tried to kiss me, and now I understood why. Kissing was an exchange of trust and affection, something that increased desire. What Emilian did to me was never about desire. It was about violence and control and hate.
Shaking myself, I forced him from my mind and concentrated on the warm, delicious feelings coursing through me. I was so glad my first kiss was with Phoenix. Someone who understood what it meant to me. It didn’t hurt that he was most excellent at it.
I blushed and grinned as I turned to get in the shower, and while I washed my hair, I hummed the Nora Jones tune Zee had played for me. For the first time I could remember, I felt at peace. Happy. Excited about the future.
By the time I made it to the dining room for breakfast, it was all but over. I was hungrier than usual, and must have looked panicked. Deacon said, “We never run short of food, Anabo. Sit and I will serve you.” He disappeared.
I took my seat and moments later he reappeared with scrambled eggs and bacon, toast and fried potatoes. I thanked him and made no comment when he scooped an extra serving of eggs onto my plate. It was as if he knew I needed more than usual. I wondered how? Did I look different? I knew I was different, but didn’t think it was outwardly evident. I could feel my body regenerating itself, the energy was incredible, and everything seemed in sharper focus. I could hear noises from the kitchen I hadn’t noticed before. But I was certain I didn’t look different, so I had to wonder how Deacon knew. He said as he placed more bacon on my plate, “Protein is most important. Never skip it.”
I nodded and picked up my fork.
The only people left at table were Ty, Denys, and Sasha, and none of them appeared any different in their manner than before. They didn’t know I was changing, which meant they didn’t know Phoenix had kissed me. I was relieved. Whatever happened between Phoenix and I needed to remain between us. I couldn’t deal with the rest of them talking about it. I had lived so long within myself, my thoughts known only to me, I would never be okay with others peeking inside my head, or my heart.
Sasha took a drink of coffee before she asked, “So what’s on the itinerary today?”
Ty said, “I’m taking Mariah to see the animals.”
Sasha beamed. “I love hanging out in the stables. Can I go with you?”
“Of course.” Ty looked at Denys. “What are you doing this morning?”
The youngest Mephisto grinned at me. “Headed to Mountain Village to buy Mariah some cross-country skis. Snowshoeing is too slow, and I want to show her the other side of the mountain this afternoon.”
Sasha’s smile seemed less genuine. “Maybe you should wait until Phoenix can go with you. He’d probably like to show Mariah around over there.”
“If showing her around was important to him, he’d have stayed on the mountain today. Mariah’s leaving day after tomorrow.”
Sasha became interested in the contents of her cup and Ty focused on smoothing marmalade on his toast.
I had the distinct feeling there was more subtext here than the lie that I was leaving, but Sasha and Denys were both smiling, and Ty concentrated on his food.
I continued eating and made no comment.
Half an hour later, after I’d gone upstairs for a coat, gloves and a wool cap, I met Ty and Sasha in the grand hall, and he reached for my hand to transport us.
We spent all the time until lunch in
the stable and barns. I was completely captivated by the horses, goats, sheep, chickens, and the dogs and cats. Everything within the stone buildings was clean and neat, well maintained and clearly well loved. I met at least ten Purgatories who spent all of their time looking after the animals. In the corner of the smaller barn was an area used as a veterinary clinic, with various sizes of kennels and crates that held wild animals, including a possum, a baby owl, and what looked like a tiny wolf, but Sasha said was a coyote. They’d all been injured and were staying here until they were healed.
While Ty fed the owl through an eyedropper, I asked, “Why do you not heal them with your hands and let them go?”
“We’re forbidden to heal anything unless we caused the injury.” He looked up from the small owl in his big hand. “Or if it’s an Anabo.”
Thinking of Phoenix’s hands on my breasts, I wanted to smile, but didn’t, hiding my secret behind my usual expression that gave away exactly nothing.
After lunch, I met Denys in the mudroom on the ground floor at the back of the mansion, half expecting Sasha to show up and ask to tag along, especially after she suggested again at the table that Denys wait for Phoenix to take me to the other side of the mountain. No one else seemed to think it mattered, but I had a feeling she’d want to go with us.
She never appeared, however, so it was only Denys and I who struck out across the frozen garden, headed for the forest just beyond. It took a bit for me to get the hang of cross-country skiing, but it was enough like downhill that I caught on quickly.
The sun was bright in a sky more blue than I’d ever seen, and the mountain in snow was more beautiful than my mind could completely grasp.
Denys was his usual gregarious self, teasing me, joking, laughing when I went too close to a tree and a low branch dumped snow on my head. An hour into our adventure, he stopped next to a rushing stream, leaned against a boulder, and pulled a couple of energy bars from his jacket pocket. “Want one?”
Of course I did. I took it and leaned with him, watching the crystal clear water as it tumbled over the stones. “Are we heading back now?”
“Not just yet. There’s something I want to show you.”
Minutes later, we were on our way again, winding through the forest another half hour until we came upon a tiny log cabin in the center of a small clearing. It was picturesque in the snow, with a stone chimney, two small windows, and a covered porch that ran the length of the front. “What’s this?” I asked. “Does a Lumina live here?”
“No, it’s not part of Mephisto Mountain, even though it’s above the Kyanos mists that keep people from finding us. It was probably built in the late eighteen hundreds as a rancher’s summer rest when he came up to check his cattle.”
“So it’s empty.”
He gave me an odd look. “No.”
“Why are you being so mysterious?”
“I never knew it was here until a few months ago. I noticed Sasha was acting weird, so I followed her and this is where she came.”
I looked away quickly. “Is this somewhere that she and Jax—”
He laughed. “God, no, nothing like that. It’s not about Sasha at all. She’s just the one who led me here. She doesn’t know because I never told her, but I could see it made her nervous that I was bringing you to this side of the mountain.”
“If it’s not hers, or have anything to do with her, why would she care if we found it?”
He said as he skied away, “Come on, and you’ll see.”
I could never resist a mystery, and my curiosity was keen. As soon as we’d taken off our skis, we stepped on the porch and removed our boots, then Denys turned the latch and the door swung inward. In just my socks, I walked in ahead of him, unprepared for what was inside. Before I could compose myself and hide my reaction, I gasped, my gloved hand flying to my mouth.
It was exactly like the room in my mind, the safe haven I escaped to when I had nowhere else to go. There was the braided rug before the stone hearth, a small rocker set to one side and a larger one on the other. There was the painting of sheep in a meadow above the nicked, worn mantel. There was the odd dark stone in the midst of all the pale ones. Even the fireplace tools were identical. The only thing missing was Beet.
Denys stood close, his dark gaze watching me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”
“Why did you bring me here? How did you know? How is it the same?”
“The same as what?”
I remembered myself and carefully concentrated until I had my expression under control. Smiling at him, I said, “It’s very much like the family room in the house where I grew up.”
“Not surprising. It’s hard to make a cottage with a stone fireplace look much different than every other cottage with a stone fireplace.”
Maybe so, but this wasn’t a different cottage. This was the room in my head. But how? I’d never been here, never seen it. I was grieved that my memory of my home with my parents and Viorica was gone, replaced by this one room cabin in the middle of the Colorado wilderness. All the photos I had that were taken in our house didn’t show the room – just Viorica and I, or Mama and Papa, not enough of the setting to know details. The braided rug in those photos was similar to this one, but I knew now that my escape wasn’t that. It was this.
Still confused and upset, I looked at the rest of the room, noticing there was a bed with an old quilt in one corner and a hutch that held a microwave in the opposite corner. A very small refrigerator sat next to the hutch, and on the other side was a small sink with an ancient faucet. The remainder of the walls were covered with floor to ceiling shelves that held dozens of boxes in myriad sizes, from very small to dress boxes to hat boxes. Some were ordinary cardboard, some made of wood, and some covered with antique paper.
Denys removed one, lifted the lid and held it out to me. Inside was an assortment of ladies accessories from back in the day; a silk fan, opera glasses, elbow length white gloves, and a small tapestry coin purse. I looked up from the box. “Jane?”
He nodded, replaced the box, and pulled another one. It had a rose satin ball gown inside. The next held a parasol and at least a hundred handkerchiefs. In a hatbox was an enormous royal blue hat with a sprig of crumbling dried heather pinned to the crown. Next was a string of pearls and a cameo brooch.
I handed it back to Denys and wished he hadn’t brought me here. I was confused, sad and feeling that much more less-than. So maybe Phoenix hadn’t loved her enough to be redeemed – he’d loved her enough to live his life under a blanket of guilt for over one hundred years. He’d loved her enough to bring her things to this secret place and keep them safe and treasured. I glanced at the bed. Did he come here often?
“He disappears sometimes for a week at a time. We always thought he went to Yorkshire, to her grave, but now I think he comes here.”
Denys took a seat on the big rocker. Rather than take the other, I pulled out more boxes, looking in each one, my heart falling further. Her entire life was here, stored away as if waiting for her to return. Did Phoenix sit in one of those rockers and stare at the boxes and imagine she was still alive? Did he wish she was still with him, that he’d had long enough to love her as he’d wanted? Did he take her things out and look at them, turn them about in his big, strong hands and remember her?
I opened a box that was filled with writing paper, her elegant script scrawled across the pages. I was wishing I could read English when it hit me that I could. It didn’t come easy, but I read that first page on top of the stack and understood well enough. “This is a novel.”
“It is,” he said softly. “And that isn’t the only manuscript. There are three others, and I’ve read them all. They’re incredible. She was born in a time when women weren’t encouraged to be anything but a wife, and their opinions were ignored or silenced completely.”
I replaced the lid and slid the box back on the shelf. I pulled out another, some inner demon insisting I look in each one, torture myself until I’d exa
mined the contents of every single box. This one held another gown, blue silk – the one she wore in the portrait in the grand hall. The golden, jeweled phoenix was nestled in the folds. I pulled it from the box and slipped it over my head, tucking it beneath the turtleneck of my sweater. The metal was cold against my skin.
Denys didn’t notice. He waxed on about her amazing talent. “Her stories are about women of her era overcoming desperate situations. I wonder if she tried to get them published? Her work is so good, I’m certain she’d have found a publisher. It’s not really surprising, I guess, because she loved to read, loved anything to do with literature. Did you know I’m a reader?”
I shook my head, only half listening. This box held a stack of photographs, a pictorial history of Jane’s life. There were many surprises. Like Jane with a twin, and Jane in a wheelchair. I’d had no idea. Then she stood next to her parents, who were seated. No sign of her twin, and there was no doubt the girl in the photograph was Jane because she wore the phoenix around her neck. There she was, standing next to a Grecian column, holding the leash of a spaniel, the one in her portrait. I wondered if Phoenix had healed her? What happened to her twin?
While I continued obsessively pawing through Jane’s pictures, Denys said, “My favorite things have always been books. My brothers assume whenever I leave the mountain that I’ve gone to a pub or a nightclub, and they’re mostly right, but they don’t know I spend a lot of time in bookshops and libraries. I see girls there and always wish one of them would be Anabo. Someone I could bring home to show our library, and she’d stay for that and be with me.”
I heard something in his voice and glanced over my shoulder at him. His smile was gone, and I saw abject misery in his eyes. “Why did you bring me here?”
He was intensely uncomfortable, I could tell. He’d stopped rocking and sat stiff and still. He swallowed but didn’t look away. “There’s something about you, Mariah, something I’ve never known in anyone else. It’s like . . . like you know.”