It’s Friday and time for episode 28 of In The flesh. When Susan can’t accept the plan that Magda and Michael have come up with to recapture the Guardian, she comes up with a plan of her own, but as time runs out, and the Guardian thwarts their every move, can any plan actually work?

There are only four more episodes of In The Flesh left, so be sure to mark your calendars for the next four Fridays, and hold on to your hats because things are about to get wild.

In the Flesh  is very dark paranormal erotica. When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize. If Susan is to fight an inhuman stalker intent on having her as his own, she’ll need a little inhuman help.

To read the story in its entirety up to this point, follow these links:

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25 Part 26, Part 27.

In The Flesh Chapter 28

“She’s going to turn him to stone. She’s going to trap the Guardian inside him. Isn’t she? Isn’t that what she’s going to do?”

No answer was necessary, I knew the truth of the plan, and Talia didn’t bother to respond.

“I have to stop her! I have to stop her from murdering Michael!”

I didn’t make it to my feet before she pulled me down hard enough to jar the breath out of me and held my arm in a vice grip I was sure would leave bruises. “Sit down, stupid woman! Didn’t you hear anything she said? She doesn’t want to do this. Do you think she would ever, ever consider such a thing if there were another alternative?”

“But she’s Medusa! She’s fucking Medusa!”

“I fucking know who she is,” Talia said. “And so does everyone else in this household. “She’s the woman who saved us all from our worst nightmares. She’s the woman who does what she has to in order to protect her own, and sometimes that calls for sacrifice.”

“But it’s not her sacrifice, is it?” I said. “It’s Michael’s sacrifice.”

“Don’t you think she would gladly give herself in his place if she could? She’d do anything for Michael. They’ve been together for a long time, longer than either of us has been alive, but the Guardian has left her no choice and even if she were to refuse it, Michael won’t. For your sake, Michael won’t.”

“Then let it be me! Let me be the sacrifice. Surely a stupid Scribe can’t possibly worth the value of an angel, and it’s my fault. This is all my fault!”

“It can’t be you, little girl.” She released my arm and let me get up this time. “You can’t hold him long enough to let Magda do what she has to. You can’t hold him long enough to distract him.”

“How do you know?” I paced the carpet, eyeing the door wondering if I could make a break for it, though not at all sure how to get to Magda’s bothy if I did.

“I don’t know,” Talia said. “But as for your value, yes a Scribe is worth more than an angel. Much more. Haven’t you read there are myriad angels? They’re three for a pound at Sainsbury.”

When I glared at her she backpedalled. “All right, the ones who leave heaven are few and far between, but that still doesn’t matter. A Scribe is rarer by far, and a real one, one that could do what you did, is a precious thing. None of us has ever met one before, and neither has Magda.” She raised a hand before I could interrupt. “But even that wouldn’t matter to her if there was another way. Michael has been her friend and companion for a very long time. She does this for two reasons. Michael will have it no other way, first of all. And secondly, there is no other way, and your Annie’s life is not the only life at stake.”

“I don’t care! I won’t accept it! I can’t. If I’m a Scribe then maybe I can hold him just like Michael can. Maybe I can distract him.”

Talia folded her arms across her chest and looked me up and down. “Possibly, but Michael would never allow you to make that sacrifice. Besides such a thing is a waste of a Scribe’s powers really.”

“I don’t understand.”

She stood and moved in front of me, blocking my path and, for a second, I thought she was going to kiss me again. Instead she held me in a hard blue gaze. “You’re a Scribe. You wrote him free. You wrote the Guardian free. Oh it’s true that he deceived you into doing it, but at the end of the day you were the one who wrote the script, Susan.” The proof is downstairs on your computer.” She nodded toward the door.
I stepped back and nearly fell onto the bed. Suddenly there didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the room. My heart felt as though it had gone into free fall. “Wait a minute,” my words came out thin and raspy.

“Are you trying to tell me that I really could … write him back into his prison?”

Before she could answer, there was a soft knock on the door, and we both jumped. Alonso stuck his head in looking like someone had just run over his dog. We stepped apart and turned to face him, but vampires don’t miss much or at least this one didn’t. He glanced at me and then at Talia and simply said, “You told her.”

“She needed to know,” Talia replied holding his gaze defiantly.

“Yes, she did,” came the unexpected response. “I was coming to tell her myself, and then …” His voice drifted off and his gaze moved toward the window behind me where the shutters were still tightly drawn from his last little run-in with daylight. He forced his gaze back to his familiar. “It’s just as well you did.”

“You’re going to Magda.” Talia said as though she were already certain of what Alonso would do. But then, she was his familiar and his friend and they’d been together long enough that they probably both read each other pretty well.

“I am, yes. I’ll try and present an alternative plan.”

“Do you have one?” But even I could see by his expression that he didn’t.

“I am known for, what is the saying, pulling things out of my arse at the last minute. We shall hope that my arse will provide. Otherwise …” His voice drifted off for a second time, and then he forced a smile. “Otherwise I shall petition for a little more time, then perhaps we can find another solution, though I’m not hopeful.”

“Does anyone ever call her Medusa anymore?” I asked fighting a rise of bitterness in my throat at the thought of what was about to happen.

“Not in a very long time,” Alonso said, “and such a pity that the stories and lies about her have tainted such a noble name. Her name means to protect, to rule over. . Did you know that, my darling girl?”

“I … didn’t. No.”

“And she is truly worthy of that name,” he said stepping in so close to me that I could feel the breath he didn’t need against my cheek. “She paid a terrible price to be free of that past, and it’s no hardship for those of us who know her story to honour her with whatever name she chooses for herself. In truth, our parents give us names they choose, names that suit them, but only we can know our real identities.”

For a moment, we all stood in silence and then he squared his shoulders to the task at hand. “I’ll leave you in charge of our little Scribe, Talia. I have asked that her laptop be brought up for her in case she should choose to chronicle the events.” Then he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Don’t borrow trouble, my darling girl. The day is not yet lost and we must stay in the moment allotted to us.” He brushed my hair away from my cheek, then turned and left just as the maid arrived with my Mac.

Talia took it from her and placed it on the makeshift desk, then she settled in the middle of the bed cross-legged, almost as though she were about to meditate. For a long moment, we both looked at the laptop as though it were about to explode, then I moved cautiously and sat down in front of it. Then I stood up and paced. “I don’t know how to do this, Talia. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Well I sure as hell don’t know,” came the reply that was only just this side of indifferent, though I’d learned never to take Talia at face value. “Shall I have cook bring some coffee? Tea? Whisky?”

I shook my head and kept pacing, and she kept watching from the bed. “What you did to me,” I nodded to the carpet on which she had pulled me down. “I was there. It was me, at first with Michael and then watching him and Magda together after. I was there. It was so real I could reach out and touch what was around me.”

“It’s my little specialty,” she said, looking down at her nails, which I noticed were short, but well manicured. “One of my specialties.”

“It was real. Completely real.”

“Of course it was real,” she said. “You were seeing that I wanted you to see, exactly what I wanted you to see.” She shrugged. “Michael I like. I respect the angel, I always have. What he asked of me, I wouldn’t have done for most people. It’s …” I was surprised to see a blush crawl up her cheeks. “Well for me and for the person I’m with it’s very sexual, but if he had been someone I hated, or simply someone I wished to feed upon, I could have just as easily turned it all back on him. I could have just as easily given him night terrors, made him think that he had actually killed Annie on the roof, or even made him think that he wasn’t even on the premises when it happened, that he was in Manchester with a chick he’d picked up at a club fucking her brains out.”

I shivered and reached for the hoodie Michael had given me. “And you get off on that kind of thing.”

She shrugged. “I’m a succubus. I don’t expect you to understand what drives me anymore than I understand what draws you to that laptop to play with words for hours at a time. But there are some things that exhaust me, some things that drain me rather than energize me, and being a messenger for someone else is one of those things. That’s why I try to avoid it if possible.”

“So you were exhausted after giving me Michael’s message.”

“Not so much. His was a message of love. Those are easier, and the other, what I saw, well it was mine to give.”

I paced a little more and like clockwork, Cook, or this time one of Cook’s assistants — I figure Cook was taking a little break after feeding Alonso — brought a tray with sandwiches and fruit and a pot of tea. The succubus poured, I sipped, had a bite of a smoked salmon and cucumber sandwich and then settled into the chair in front of the laptop. I was barely aware that I’d been writing, that there were words appearing in the open document until Talia leaned over my shoulder.

“Bloody hell,” she whispered. “You do know what you just wrote?” I nodded and waved her away with a shrug of my shoulder. I knew exactly what I wrote and the goose bumps riding up my spine were evidence. She paced and I wrote. By the time she’d come back to read over my shoulder the third time, I had begun to notice a strange buzzing in my head, not unpleasant, like the sounds insects make on a hot summer day and, a little more unpleasant, was the feeling that I had slipped slightly out of sync with the world around me, that wherever I was, no one else could go. With a little start, I realized that I’d had that same feeling the night I’d written about the Guardian in the study at Annie’s flat.

“Your insane,” Talia said. She had stopped pacing and I had no idea how long she’d stood behind me, reading over my shoulder as I wrote.

“Takes one to know one,” I said and kept writing as fast as I could, breathing as though the speed of my writing was such that I had gone into oxygen deficit, while my heart raced with each word.

She didn’t bother replying, but now she was reading out loud. “Shut up,” I said. “I need quiet.”

She did for a few minutes, and then she cursed loud enough in my ear that I glared at her through the reflection of the computer.

“You’re out of your bloody mind,” she said. Her voice was almost as breathless as mine. “He won’t. He wouldn’t. Would he?” Then she nodded. “That might work, but, fucking hell, Scribe, are you sure?”

“That’s about the stupidest question ever,” I replied and kept writing.

“She would never let you, Magda, and certainly Michael wouldn’t.”

“In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m not asking their permission.” I kept writing, still faster, and she leaned over me so closely that I had to elbow her away to keep her from fogging the monitor with her breath, and still I wrote on. I wrote on to the end. I couldn’t stop. The words kept coming from some wellspring I didn’t know existed and yet I knew it had always been there. I wrote until I forgot to breathe. I wrote until I believe my heart forgot how to beat. I wrote until my mind saw pictures of what I wrote, and not words, as though it were already happening this very second right in front of me, and I felt it all unfold in the space just behind my breastbone, even as it terrified me, even as it refused to be unwritten.
By the time I was finished the buzzing in my head sounded like a swarm of angry hornets, and everything beyond the words on the monitor had become nothing more than an unfocused blur of light and color. My whole body ached as though the feat had been a physical one, as though I had endured a beating for every word I wrote.

Even Talia’s voice had become nothing more than a series of disjointed sounds with no meaning. “You need to stop. You need to stop now. Susan, you have to stop!”

It was Alonso’s hand on my shoulder firm and solid, the reflection of his face in the monitor that brought me back with a gasp. My hands fell away from the keyboard, and I would have toppled off the chair if Alonso hadn’t caught me and carried me to the bed. He held a water glass to my lips and forced a few bites of chicken salad sandwich between my lips before the world around me came fully back into focus.
I was surprised to find both the vampire and his succubus leaning over me, her hand resting on his shoulder. “Are you all right my darling girl?” he asked. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated.

I ignored the question. “They wouldn’t listen, would they?”

He shook his head. “Sadly there was nothing to listen to, and the truth is the longer they put off the inevitable the more we risk the Guardian invading again, and who knows what havoc he might wreak the second time around. I am truly sorry, my dear little Scribe.”

“Thank you for trying,” I squeezed his hand. I was about to tell him that I thought there might be an alternative when Talia said it for me.

“You need to see this,” she spoke quietly next to his ear and nodded at the Mac still open to the document I’d been working on. “The Scribe’s been busy.”

Alonso leaned in and kissed my forehead. “I shall look, Talia, but you must see that she eats and has something to drink. Whatever she has done has clearly been taxing upon her person.”

Alonso settled in at the computer and scrolled back up to the beginning of the document. I was halfway through my second sandwich when I heard him catch his breath, and he shot a glance around at me and then at Talia. She only gave him a raised eyebrow and handed me a cup of tepid tea, which I took gratefully.

For the next few moments I had little time to spare as Talia all but force-fed me everything that was left on the tray Cook’s assistant had delivered and I ravenously did my best to accommodate, like she was a mother bird and I her nestling. But I couldn’t keep from noticing the way Alonso sat on the edge of the chair, the way he leaned forward, the way the tension had risen in his shoulders.

When I could stand it no longer, and really there was nothing left for Talia to shove in my gob, I pushed up off the bed and moved to his side. “Well?” Clearly he was done reading, but he only sat now staring at the monitor, at the words, and I knew exactly what he was looking at. “It can work, Alonso. Don’t you think it can work?”

For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then he took a deep breath and looked up at me. “There’ll be … consequences, consequences you can’t possibly foresee.”

“I know that. I’m willing to take that chance.”

He looked at Talia, and whatever it was that passed between them was way more than a conversation, though I could neither see nor hear. She only gave him a slight nod of her head. Then he stood so quickly that the chair went over backward and I yelped, for a brief moment reminded again that the man I had come to respect, the man who had given me shelter was, after all, a vampire. Once again my skin was pocked with goose bumps, and my heart raced as though it were being chased by something deadly. In truth, it was being held by something deadly, or I was, at least, as he grabbed me to keep me from falling, and settled me on the trunk at the foot of the bed, where he knelt in front of me looking up into my eyes, my hands, now nearly as cold as his, held tightly next to his chest. “It can work, this plan of yours, my darling girl, as you know very well it can. Though there are always variables one can’t know until the
moment of execution, but it can work.”

“Then you’ll help me, both of you?” I already knew that Talia would. In spite of her constant attestations to my lack of sanity, I could feel her excitement as she lingered over my and read.

“If I help you,” he said, holding my hands against the place where his heart would have beat if he lived, “if we do this, then you must know, there’ll be no turning back.”

“I know.” I braced my feet hard against the floor to keep my knees from shaking. Christ, I really would like at least a little bit of dignity at moments like this, but I found myself fighting back tears, as he pulled me into his arms and held me to stop the shaking. There had been no turning back for a very long time now, I thought, as I bury my face in his shoulder and clenching my eyes shut so tightly that I saw sparks of light. It had just taken me this damn long to figure it out.

It’s Friday and time for episode 27 of In The flesh. As the situation becomes dire, Magda Gardener has a plan, but is that plan worth the cost? And can she do it without revealing her own secrets?

In the Flesh  is very dark paranormal erotica. When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize. If Susan is to fight an inhuman stalker intent on having her as his own, she’ll need a little inhuman help.

To read the story in its entirety up to this point, follow these links:

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25 Part 26.

In The Flesh Chapter 27

It was the first time since I’d seen Magda Gardener looking anything but calm and relaxed and only just slightly this side of laughing at a good joke. She looked tired. She didn’t just look tired, she looked downright worried, and that scared me. Clearly it scared everyone in the room, although after what had happened on the battlement, Magda Gardener’s countenance was probably just the icing on the shit-storm cake we were all facing. That sucked, but it was Michael sitting across the room doing his best to avoid my gaze that shredded me. Alonso offered me his hand and gently guided me to the loveseat to sit next to him, the battered copy of Marcus Aralias falling to the floor with a muted thump.

Everyone settled, and then everyone waited expectantly, all eyes on Magda Gardener – all eyes but Michael’s. He only stared at the floor, looking pale and drawn. There were dark circles under his eyes that hadn’t been there before we’d all made our mad race to the battlement to save Annie. With an icy shiver I realized he was showing the same symptoms Annie showed, the result of the Guardian’s attentions. But before I could dwell on Michael’s situation, Magda spoke. “I’ve done what I can to protect Michael from another invasion, but with magic there are never any guarantees, especially not in dealing with the Guardian.”

“I don’t see that you have much choice but to return me to Chapel House,” I said, and I was surprised to find that I had no ulterior motive this time other than wanting Michael and Annie free from this horror and everyone else safe.”

“You’re right. There is no other choice,” I was surprised to find that it was Michael who replied. He lifted his gaze to me. “You’ll be returned to Chapel House and me along with you.” Before I could protest Magda cut in.

“He wants you both. Having you both is his way of proving he can do whatever he wants and we can’t stop him.” She ran a hand through her windblown hair, which settled around her like a writhing halo. “It’s a good bet that once you’ve both been returned to him he’ll see to the death of your friend and then begin working away on Alonso’s people as well It’s his way to punish us for thinking we can best him, to punish me for having done so before.”

“Jesus! You can’t let that happe — ”

“Shut up, Susan,” she cut me off. “The time for negotiation is over. I’m telling you exactly what he’ll do because he doesn’t negotiate, he has no feeling of human emotion, he has no understanding of compassion or empathy.”

“I won’t give up people under my protection, Magda. You know this,” Alonso said.

“I know you’re a fool, Alonso, driven by your heart to the bitter end, and that’s why you’ll do exactly as I say. That’s why you’ll all do exactly as I say, because your humanity is your strength. It’s the one thing he doesn’t understand. We can us that against him.”

“You have a plan then,” Talia asked.

“I do.” Magda bit her lip and squared her shoulders taking in everyone in the room with a gaze that was made all the more impressive by the dark glasses she always wore. “And if you all do exactly as I say, exactly as I say.” She emphasized the words as though our lives depended upon them, which was more than likely the truth. “Then I’ll have the Guardian safely back in his stone prison by this time tomorrow.” She raised a hand when Alonso started to speak. “There will be no negotiation, no second guessing, no questioning.” Is that clear? Susan?” I felt as though her gaze beneath the glasses was turning me to ice. I nodded mechanically. “I mean it. I’m the only one who knows how to deal with this bastard and I’ll tolerate no interference.”

“So what’s your plan then,” Reese asked, moving to sit on the arm of the loveseat next to Alonso.

“Tonight, Michael and Susan will steal a vehicle and slip away, back to Chapel House, where they’ll fervently negotiate with the Guardian to release Annie and everyone else in exchange for them.”

“Why a night escape? In case you’ve forgotten, this is a vampire lair,” Talia said. “The place will be far less vulnerable when the vampire is able to move about freely.”

“I’ve forgotten nothing,” Magda replied. “Didn’t you just hear Alonso say that he would do whatever it took to protect his own.” She nodded to Michael and me. “They’re not his own. They bring danger into his house. The Guardian will have no trouble believing that Alonso will turn a blind eye, even possibly leave the keys in the getaway car. Remember he has no concept of loyalty or compassion. He’ll believe it, trust me.”

“And then what,” I said. I hadn’t realized that I was trembling until Alonso slipped a comforting arm around me, and the look that crossed Michael’s face as he watched was raw anguish.

“And then, I invite him in,” Michael said. “That’s what he wants more than anything, to experience the sensations of being in the flesh. That’s what I can give him. He wants to experience taking you with my body.” The muscles along his jaw twitched, his lips thinned to a grim line and I could see the pulse in his temple hammering a rapid staccato. For a second, he struggled, as though the power of speech had suddenly left him, then he drew himself up to his full height and his eyes locked on mine. “I … I have to let him if we’re ever to end this.”

I nodded, for a second losing my own ability to speak, as my throat constricted and I felt as though the room were tilting around me. “I understand,” I managed. I didn’t. I never would, but I certainly had no idea how to fight this bastard, especially not when most of the time what I wanted on a visceral level was for Him to fuck my brains out. “And then what,” I finally managed.

“Once he’s in Michael, he’s vulnerable,” Madga said. “It’ll be your job to hold his attention, which shouldn’t be too difficult since you’re the object of his lust and he’ll be enjoying you physically, something he won’t be able to resist. You just need to hold his attention until I give the word.” The room was deadly silent. I would wager everyone was holding their breath. I certainly was. “And this is very important, Susan.” She turned her full attention on me again. “When I give the word, you close your eyes, you close them as tightly as you can, and you don’t open them for anything. Not for anything until I say it’s okay.”

“I don’t understand. How’s that supposed to help me or Michael? If I’m lying there helpless with my eyes closed and — ”

“Michael knows what to do,” she interrupted again, “and everything hinges on you keeping your eyes closed. I don’t care if you understand or not. That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you do exactly as I say, that you close your eyes and keep them closed until it’s over.”

“Susan,” Alonso gently squeezed my hand. “Please don’t argue. Do as she says. Magda knows what she’s doing, and if you do as she says, you’ll come back to us safely.”

Michael, who still held me in his laser gaze nodded his agreement with Alonso and Magda. “The plan will work, Susan. It’s the only plan that will work, and you have to trust Magda. You have to trust me.”

I nodded. But I didn’t. I didn’t trust either of them, not really. I didn’t trust anyone against the Guardian. He didn’t think like a person would, and while He might not understand human emotions, He was incredibly intuitive, and He did understand human actions. It wasn’t just that, it was the way Magda and Michael were behaving, the furtive glances, the stiff upper lips. Something wasn’t right. I wasn’t being told what would actually happen. I was being told to trust in a place where I had not seen any reason to trust – not because people didn’t have my best interest at heart, but because we were all dealing with insurmountable odds and I was being asked to go in blind. But still I nodded my agreement; I nodded my consent and the trust I didn’t feel. There was nothing else I could do at the moment.

That seemed to be enough for Magda though. She gave a decisive nod and stood. “Good, then I suggest at the moment, you get some rest. Michael will stay with me for safety sake and Alonso, if you would see to Susan’s safety, I’d appreciate it.” When the time comes, when it’s fully dark, you’ll escort Susan and Michael out in what will be seen as your effort to keep your own people safe. I’ll find my own way to Chapel House, and by the time they arrive I’ll be waiting there. Oh don’t worry,” she waved a dismissive hand at me, “I promise the Guardian will have no clue that I’m there. I’m good at hiding, and I’ve hidden from way scarier bastards than him.”

As everyone stood to leave, Michael left without so much as a backward glance, and I felt the lack of him as though someone had ripped my heart out. It was Alonso who supported me, whispering softly against my ear. “Let him go, my darling girl. Let him do what he must for Annie, for you.”

We stood while everyone filed out of the room except Talia, who came to Alonso’s side. “Cook’s waiting in your room. It’s his turn, and you need to feed.” Before he could protest, she said. “Now’s not a good time for you to be weakened Alonso, now go and feed. I’ll take care of this one,” she offered me half a smile, “and when you’re done, we’ll be in her room.”

Alonso dropped a cool kiss on my forehead and left the room with a quick backward glance.

Feeling like I’d been gutted with a spoon, I followed Talia up the stairs to my room. Neither of us spoke, and though I was completely strung out, I knew I couldn’t sleep. As she opened the door and stepped aside for me, I was just about to ask if we could go back for my computer when she shut the door and locked it. Before I knew what was happening, she took me into her arms taking my mouth with a deep, probing kiss. I gasped and tried to push her away as her power overwhelmed me. My knees gave from under me, and we half settled half fell onto the aubusson carpet.

“Listen to me, Susan Innes,” she spoke against my mouth in between urgent kisses. “We don’t have much time. Michael asked me to give something to you after everything was all over.” She covered my mouth with her hand when I tried to question. “But I made an executive decision not to wait. I don’t believe in subterfuge, and I don’t believe in keeping vital information from people. It causes more damage than it does good, and you’re the Scribe, not some silly helpless little girl. Now hold still, be quiet and let me give you what he wants you to have.”

She kissed me again, and this time I wrapped my arms around her neck and kissed her back as the floor gave way beneath me. The whole world gave way. I knew that Talia was more than just a succubus, though that would have been frightening enough, but her powers were far more formidable. Michael had called her a living flash drive, and I understood why as she took my mouth in what was so much more than just a kiss, and suddenly it was Michael I was kissing, suddenly we stood together in the hallway by the stairs, him pressing my tightly against the wall, him caressing me, him holding me. But he slapped my hands away when I tried to undo his jeans. “There’s no time for that now,” he said, “I need you to listen to me Susan, just listen. I love you. I’ve loved you since long before I ever met you. Angels have eternity stretched out before them. They can see all time is it plays out, no beginning, no end. It’s a terrifying thing to face time with no end. In order to stay sane, we choose a moment, an experience, a person, and we focus on them. They are our true north. You were mine long before my fall from grace. You were my reason for holding on and my reason for fighting my way back from the Guardian.

“Perhaps this is the reason for my whole existence, and now that I’m human, now that I am mortal, I can give it all up and let it go knowing that you’re safe, knowing that you’ll go on to become the Scribe you were intended to be. Listen to Magda. She’ll teach you. She’ll guide you, and she’ll comfort you when you feel you can’t go on. Only listen to her, and never forget that I love you. If anything of a person lives on, then let it be that, let it be my love for you.”

And once again I was lying on the floor wrapped in Talia’s arms struggling hard to get away. “He’s going to sacrifice himself. I can’t let that happen! Let me up, damn it! Get off me, Talia.”

But she didn’t. Instead she straddled me and pushed me down hard to the floor, trapping my wrists in her hands. “What I gave you,” she managed, breathing hard, “that was from Michael. What I give you now is from me, what I’ve discovered, because you need to know. You need to know what’s happening.”

This time the kiss was little more than a breath at first, and then it was as though I were standing once again on the battlement in the storm, and I was the one falling, endlessly falling from the tower. But all that disappeared with a jerk and a tremor, and I found myself standing in front of Magda Gardener’s little bothy, safely hidden behind a hawthorn thicket. Oh it wasn’t me, of course. It was Talia, but I saw it all through her eyes. I knew I shouldn’t be there, but I had to know what was going on. Someone needed to know what Magda was up to, so I hid and watched and listened as she spoke with Michael.

“You know there’s no other choice now,” Michael said. “If you turn me while the Guardian’s inside me, then he won’t be able to escape. He’ll be trapped.” His laugh was tinged with bitterness. “The bastard has inadvertently given us a way to trap him, and what church yard doesn’t benefit from one more stone angel?”

“I can’t do that, Michael. You can’t ask that of me. You can’t.” The anguish in the woman’s voice vibrated through the whole room, even through the rocks of the foundation and the menagerie of sculptures around it.

“Magda, Magda, listen to me.” He knelt in front her and took her face in his hands, careful not to disturb the glasses. “You have no choice and you know it as well as I do. He’s gotten into me. He won’t go away, and he won’t stop until he has Susan and Annie is dead and then, you’ve already said it, he’ll come after all of Alonso’s people starting with Reese just for revenge sake. And once that happens, there’ll be no one standing in his way. Magda, you know I speak the truth.”

“Not you, Michael. Not you! You don’t deserve this.” The woman was actually crying. “No one deserves this.”

“That’s right, no one does, but that’s not important, that doesn’t matter, Annie and Susan, keep them safe. That’s what matters. Susan, she is a Scribe, a true Scribe, she writes the truth of what happens, she writes the possibilities. You have to keep her safe. And besides,” he said, settling back onto a rough wooden bench, “I lover her. You know I love her.”

I could hear the soft patter of something hard and tiny like seed pearls hitting stone, but I ignored the sound as Michael continued. “Don’t you see, once he’s inside me, he’s vulnerable. We can trap him forever and it’ll all be over. Finally it’ll all be over.”

Magda Gardener laid her glasses aside and buried her face in her hands. For a long moment Michael sat silently next to her, then he reached out and took her into his arms. When she straightened, he turned and looked away while she reached for her glasses. And then she wiped her eyes with her fingers and the sound of seed pearls broke the silence. It was then that I saw it, the tears on Magda’s cheeks were wet only for a moment. I blinked and blinked again. Surely I was imagining it, but the tears were transformed to tiny stones, not much bigger than grains of sand as they slid off her cheeks and into her lap and fell onto the floor.

“Do you understand?” The voice came from a long way off. “Do you understand now, Susan?”

I glanced around me at the stone menagerie every animal, no matter how small, perfectly carved in incredible, impossible detail. Another stone angel, Michael had said. When you change me, he had said. It can’t be. It couldn’t be. ‘When I give the word,’ Magda had said, ‘you close your eyes, you close them as tightly as you can, and you don’t open them for anything. Not for anything until I say it’s okay.’ That’s what she’d said. That’s what she’d repeated. That’s what she’d stressed. She always wore the dark
glasses. She wouldn’t let me look at her when she came to me in the crypt. It all made sense now, and yet it was impossible, so totally impossible.

“It can’t be. It just can’t be. It can’t,” I came back to myself sitting on the floor leaning against the bed, my head resting on Talia’s shoulders repeating over and over again, “It can’t be. It’s impossible. It can’t be” But I knew the truth at last, in my gut I knew the truth. “Magda Gardener – she’s … She’s Medusa.”

Talia held me in her bright blue gaze. “Now you understand,” she said. “And you needed to understand because you’re the Scribe and you write the story.”