her, he would do it, even
though the thought was killing him. But she had to look at him
first.
“Kate. I want you look at me. Right
now.”
“ No!” she screamed, beating her fists and kicking her
legs into the bed, as she continued to cry and throw a tantrum
worthy of the most accomplished two year old.
“Kate,” he started, sounding a bit miffed
this time.
With arm strength she didn’t know she had,
Kate flipped herself onto her back, sitting up almost at the same
time, her hair scattered around her head by static electricity in a
Medusa-like halo.
“Get out of my house!” she screamed,
pointing her finger at him, and plopped face-first back into her
pillow.
At Kate’s words, rescinding his invitation
into her home, Julian’s body jerked forward as if the wind had been
knocked out of him. He stood and fought his involuntary movements.
With panicked eyes, he pleaded through clenched teeth, “No, No, No,
No!”
She screamed, “Yes!” into her pillow.
He continued to walk backwards, with halting
steps, out of her bedroom. He tried to grab for the door jamb, but
missed.
With his eyes still on Kate, as she cried
into her pillow, Julian was pulled by an invisible force down the
stairwell backward. Fighting to grab onto the stair railing, his
arms would not lift quite high enough to reach it. His foot slipped
as he missed a step, and his body fell forward, his head slamming
the edge of the step hard. As his body lay face down, something
flipped him over onto his back, gathered his feet together up in
the air, and began to pull him down the staircase, the back of his
head hitting on each step.
As he was dragged through her foyer, Julian
raised his head with great effort.
“Kate...” He forced the words out of his
mouth, knowing she wouldn’t hear him. “Not like this...
Please!”
Chapter 7
Fuck, Julian thought, as he flew out Kate’s front door. He hit her
front lawn with a thud, his body sliding to a stop beside one of
the crepe myrtles she had planted in the spring. Lying on the
ground with Bermuda grass poking in his nose, he realized he had
flipped over, mid-flight, between the door and the wet ground. He
wondered at the power which had forced him out of the house, but it
was not his first time experiencing that particular phenomenon in
the last hundred or so years. The sensations of it still shook him
up, and also reminded him of what he was, as if he could forget.
But it was Kate’s rejection of him that cut the deepest. He had to
get back to her and clear things up.
Julian pushed himself to his hands and knees
and brushed off as much of the mud, grass and leaves he could, from
his black tailored pants and grass-stained shirt. The pants, in all
probability, would launder, but the shirt was beyond any dry
cleaner’s saving. Standing, he walked to the running fountain,
cupping his hands under one of the mouths of the concrete fish,
gathering water in them. After slapping water over his face a few
times, and sticking his head under the spouting mouth to rinse his
hair, he flipped his head back with a snap, sending the water
flying out in all directions. He rubbed his hands over his scruffy
face and then over his scalp, deciding that was as presentable as
he could be, under the circumstances, and turned to face the
house.
He moved closer, not trying to hide his
movements, and stopped midway between the house and the copse of
trees which enclosed the property, to watch and hear the sounds
coming from inside.
“What the hell is she doing now?”
He scratched his head as he stared up at her
window while tapping his foot, considering his options with
caution.
Kate moved into view at the window and
opened it, leaning out and supporting herself with her hands
gripping the sill. Her voice breaking with tears, she yelled, “Why
are you still here? Go away!” During his moments of contemplation,
she had moved past anger, back to tears.
Examining Kate with trepidation, Julian held
his hands out,
though the thought was killing him. But she had to look at him
first.
“Kate. I want you look at me. Right
now.”
“ No!” she screamed, beating her fists and kicking her
legs into the bed, as she continued to cry and throw a tantrum
worthy of the most accomplished two year old.
“Kate,” he started, sounding a bit miffed
this time.
With arm strength she didn’t know she had,
Kate flipped herself onto her back, sitting up almost at the same
time, her hair scattered around her head by static electricity in a
Medusa-like halo.
“Get out of my house!” she screamed,
pointing her finger at him, and plopped face-first back into her
pillow.
At Kate’s words, rescinding his invitation
into her home, Julian’s body jerked forward as if the wind had been
knocked out of him. He stood and fought his involuntary movements.
With panicked eyes, he pleaded through clenched teeth, “No, No, No,
No!”
She screamed, “Yes!” into her pillow.
He continued to walk backwards, with halting
steps, out of her bedroom. He tried to grab for the door jamb, but
missed.
With his eyes still on Kate, as she cried
into her pillow, Julian was pulled by an invisible force down the
stairwell backward. Fighting to grab onto the stair railing, his
arms would not lift quite high enough to reach it. His foot slipped
as he missed a step, and his body fell forward, his head slamming
the edge of the step hard. As his body lay face down, something
flipped him over onto his back, gathered his feet together up in
the air, and began to pull him down the staircase, the back of his
head hitting on each step.
As he was dragged through her foyer, Julian
raised his head with great effort.
“Kate...” He forced the words out of his
mouth, knowing she wouldn’t hear him. “Not like this...
Please!”
Chapter 7
Fuck, Julian thought, as he flew out Kate’s front door. He hit her
front lawn with a thud, his body sliding to a stop beside one of
the crepe myrtles she had planted in the spring. Lying on the
ground with Bermuda grass poking in his nose, he realized he had
flipped over, mid-flight, between the door and the wet ground. He
wondered at the power which had forced him out of the house, but it
was not his first time experiencing that particular phenomenon in
the last hundred or so years. The sensations of it still shook him
up, and also reminded him of what he was, as if he could forget.
But it was Kate’s rejection of him that cut the deepest. He had to
get back to her and clear things up.
Julian pushed himself to his hands and knees
and brushed off as much of the mud, grass and leaves he could, from
his black tailored pants and grass-stained shirt. The pants, in all
probability, would launder, but the shirt was beyond any dry
cleaner’s saving. Standing, he walked to the running fountain,
cupping his hands under one of the mouths of the concrete fish,
gathering water in them. After slapping water over his face a few
times, and sticking his head under the spouting mouth to rinse his
hair, he flipped his head back with a snap, sending the water
flying out in all directions. He rubbed his hands over his scruffy
face and then over his scalp, deciding that was as presentable as
he could be, under the circumstances, and turned to face the
house.
He moved closer, not trying to hide his
movements, and stopped midway between the house and the copse of
trees which enclosed the property, to watch and hear the sounds
coming from inside.
“What the hell is she doing now?”
He scratched his head as he stared up at her
window while tapping his foot, considering his options with
caution.
Kate moved into view at the window and
opened it, leaning out and supporting herself with her hands
gripping the sill. Her voice breaking with tears, she yelled, “Why
are you still here? Go away!” During his moments of contemplation,
she had moved past anger, back to tears.
Examining Kate with trepidation, Julian held
his hands out,
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