CHAPTER 5
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Set fire to the night
We’ll dance in it’s light
Till yesterdays ashes are cold
She’s the ravens delight
The soul of the night
With a hunger for darkness and souls
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Morgan spoke in an sibilant eldritch language. Surprisingly as she spoke, Michael began to pick up a word here, a phrase there. Understanding more as She continued speaking. Words took shape, formed images in his mind as she spoke. Changes had happened, were happening within his brain.
At the molecular level. Michaels entire nervous system now acted as both an receiver and a transmitter, one operating on extremely long band waves, highly efficient. Though He did not understand it as yet, Michael was Quantum entangled with Morgan and tuned into her thoughts being broadcast by her central nervous system.
This combined with the skin sensitivity to electro magnetism acted as a transceiver, broadcasting and receiving brain waves in the elf range. (ELF:Extreme low frequency) Images and emotions flowed into his mind along with the spoken words. After a few minutes of intense concentration he began to understand her with an increasing clarity.
That was surprising and new! She had been berating him. Quite brutally as it turned out. It reminded him of a drill sergeant dressing down new recruits. Those phrases and words coming from that angelic face was completely incongruous. Each nasty delivered in an clipped manner. The only thing missing was the dreaded knife hand.
The image of a drill instructor raven flashed unbidden through his mind. Followed by the same Raven on R. Lee Ermeys shoulder berating the gunny. The look of what the fuck on Michaels face and his burst of fresh laughter brought her to a stop as she realized he had finally begun understanding her.
Clarity brings understanding the saying goes. That adage is not always true at all. While he now understood the words she spoke, their true meanings and contexts were still confusing to him. Incomplete knowledge brings confusion.
Morgan did that tilted head raven imitation thing of hers, eyes measuring him. Some might say that faceted gems are cold, empty or distant. No, that is not the case at all. Her eyes were emerald flames crystallized. Far from cold or empty. Fiery depths to consume souls and drown hearts within. Wells of eternity that devoured the light around her and transformed it all into a piercing perception of all she surveyed. The eyes of a Goddess surveying her realm with majesty.
Michael wanted to say something but, he forgot the words as well as the thoughts that formed them in the effort to speak. Her emerald eyes had mesmerized him. Randomly a question drifted across his mind. What is happening? What is this, this intensity?
She read the question and smiled. Shaking her head, ” Na, do not worry yourself. Our passions burn bright. The flames burn long, we see all deeply, our emotions rage intensely, furious storms of sensation and perception you will get used to it.”
Then, she moved closer and lighly nipped at his bottom lip, turning away and vaguely gesturing for him to follow. Michael discovered that he was no longer angry at her. He had lost all focus on everything except this Goddess.
With no visible effort, she leapt up and over the sea wall. Michael did not understand why that eight or nine foot vertical leap surprised him. He followed. Landing on the manicured lawn sheltered by the wall. Lemon and Orange trees , Hibiscus, Roses, and night Jasmine in a chaos of scented pleasure enveloped him. Morgan disappeared into the bungalow there before him, her voice cutting through the drone of sea breeze and surf.
“Relax Michael, have a seat. ” a brief pause and a muffled queried “Mead?” He heard the tinkle of crystal and the pop of a cork. ” I have never had mead.” he replied. Morgan walked back out onto the patio placing a bottle and glasses on the wicker table as she folded herself into the chair. Grandly she waved her hand, gesturing at the table and accompanying chair.
He sat as she poured a golden elixir into the glasses that smelled of honey and spices. Taking the glass she proffered, he tasted the mead. Sweet fire, Honeyed cinnamon, herbs, it was quite pleasant. She smiled at the clear expression of pleasure on his face.
This was not at all as he had imagined it would be when he found her. There had been moments of fiery vengeance, fantasies of horrific vampiric battles that had played through his thoughts. There had been moments of depression and rage. There had been dark and blood soaked fantasies of orgyistic feasting. Mostly, there was this endless aching need. An emptiness screaming to be filled. Now, it was all wonder and awe, is that incongruous?
Michael pondered the absurdity of it all. His world had been turned inside out, laid waste. His life had become, what, he did not know what he had become. Humanity had been left far behind, shed like a serpent sheds it’s skin.
The oddest part of it all, was the calm acceptance he felt with a feeling that he had finally gotten home after a long grueling journey. The feeling that, for the first time ever, he belonged somewhere. The problem being that Michael had no idea where or what that somewhere was.
Throughout his life, the only times Michael had felt at home, had been in the midst of the two way firing range of war or the blissful uncertainty of a night jump under fire. The fear, the elation of survival, the adrenaline rush of battle. Those things had been strangely comforting to him. There had been a few electrifying moments on stage, when an emotional connection with the audience had formed. That still paled compared with the blood, fire, terror and elation of war.
Morgan sipped her mead, studying Michael, reading him, assessing. There was something about him. Something more than just the blood calling to her. He seemed somehow familiar. As if she should know him intimately. Was this merely an intense lust? He was very, um, yes, he was pleasing to look at. She walked her gaze up and down. Taller than her, very fit though slender. Chest much wider than his hips, he moved with a graceful confidence carrying himself with an aloof indifference. The fluid movement of a trained dancer , or martial artist. Clearly an apex predator. No arrogance displayed, merely the aloof confidence with indifference of an apex predator. His Hazel green eyes that shifted, green to blue, chameleon like, shifting with the background around him and highlighted by his moods. Long strawberry blonde hair swept past his shoulders. Natural hilights shifting from red gold to hints of pale blonde. Light sprays of freckles, Yes, he was certainly a tempting morsel.
Contemplating him, she could not remember exactly why she had chosen him. Random impetuous actions is one of her charms after all. Pheromones never entered her thoughts.
The fact is, Michael had entralled her without knowing it and Michael had been enthralled as well. Just, not only by Morgan. The intensity of Michaels reaction to her was not caused by Pheremones. The pheromones were a product of Michaels. Love, is the most devastating form of insanity in all of reality. Throughout the multiverse it is the same and here, Michael was busy falling in love with Morgan. The act of falling for her was calling to her, on a sensual level of scent, touch, sight, seducing her with the simple power of his existence and focus upon her.
His pheromones triggered hers and as they both stared into each others eyes. A double whammy was occurring. All of this on an entirely unconscious level. Their conscious thoughts were thoughts of confusion and intensity and comfort as Dopamine and oxytocin were flooding their brains.
Licking her lips Morgan leaned forward deliberately moving closer to him. She looked directly into his eyes. He flushed, blushing without looking away. Making his responsive thoughts clear. Morgan leaned back smiling her twisted predatory smile. Satisfied in the moment, both pleased and amused, Morgan contemplated him. Her attempts at enthralling him had apparently been ignored as if they were nothing at all. Which was a new thing to her.
His gaze that wavered between wide eyed awe and burning desire was doing things to her, summoning butterflies to her stomach. That was a new thing as well. Bringing someone unvetted to the safe house had occurred without her thinking about it at all. Ah well then, you place your bets before you toss the dice. She had bet everything on the dice roll without a clue of what the game was or the pot to be won. Time to roll the bones!
Perched unseen on the seawall, Llew watched smiling. This was going better than he had hoped. Time to back away , must not tip his hand or interfere yet. Dropping back onto the beach, Llew fished a celphone from his pocket, texting instructions as he walked back towards the Strip. Might as well grab a snack before heading back to Savanah. Things here were well in hand. Almost surprisingly so.