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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kemper arrived in New York the next day and went directly into a meeting discussing the pros and cons of corks verses screw caps. He had a business dinner after that with Chuck and the director of the commercial. The meeting wasn't really necessary, but Chuck wanted everything to be perfect. They would shoot Kemper using combination shower gel and shampoo in a tub, applying lotion in a bedroom, and spraying cologne in a cab.
By the end of the meal Chuck and Dennis, the director, had settled into friendly banter. He made an effort to join in the conversation. His weak attempts at dialogue made him feel more self-conscience than included, so he smoked on his cigarette and sipped on his wine, trying to at least look like he was paying attention, but his mind turned to other matters. He had never been this tense about a spell before, but then again none had held such profound importance as this one did. He continued going over the ritual in his head, scrutinizing each step to make certain he knew it like the back of his hand.
Once Chuck was satisfied that everything had been discussed thoroughly and Kemper had shaken hands with Dennis, he went back to his hotel. There was a message from Carlo at the front desk. As soon as he got to his room he called him, not thinking what time it was.
"Carlo Sabetilli," he answered the phone in a gruff voice. He had woken him.
"Hey sexy, do you miss me?" Kemper was elated to hear his voice, gravely or not. He wished he were clutching his body.
"You have no idea how much. I am so glad it's you." Carlo sounded awful, more than sleep affected his voice.
"Baby is something the matter? Were you sleeping?"
"I wish I could sleep. It took her almost a full week, but Monique knows I'm here."
"Shit! What happened?" Kemper tried to remain cool and overcame the urge to send bad vibes Monique's way.
"Well, I was walking down the street and suddenly there she was." Kemper gasped, but he kept going. "I nearly collided with her she appeared so quickly. She was frantic and practically shaking. She said I made a mistake casting magic on her and now she won't stop until she has what rightfully belongs to her. She said you would pay for stealing me away. She told me I might as well come back to her and save us a lot of tribulation and misery."
Kemper strove to subside the fury mounting inside of him. "What did you say?"
"I told her, 'Never.'" A simple, firm, one-word response to a woman whom had been manipulating him magically for a year now, that was Carlo, sophistication and restraint to the end. "Then she said that I would regret it, that we would both regret it. Then she gripped my wrist and I immediately unwrenched it from her grasp, but two seconds was all that it took."
"Took for what?"
"For her to burn me with her hand."
"Burn you? She burnt you with her hand? That bitch! I'm going to kill her!" Kemper's rage was about to burst through, like someone falling through a paper screen, but Carlo was his interjection of peace.
"Calm down, love. I'm alright. There is a red whelp there and it hurts like a bugger, but nothing grave. Moreover, you cannot permit yourself to experience those hostile feelings. We have an important rite to cast tonight and if it succeeds, Monique will no longer be a problem for us." Carlo was right and he knew it.
"I love you," Kemper told him and meant it with every fiber of his being, so much that his chest stung as if his soul were reaching out, searching for Carlo.
"I love you, too. I cannot wait for us to be married. By the way, I have a surprise for you." Carlo told him, not so subtly trying to change the subject
"Oh, a surprise! Is it good?" Kemper took the bait knowing exactly what he was doing.
"It is spectacular if I do say so myself, but you're going to have to wait to see what it is."
"Okay, I will behave and wait, but I don't want to just so you know. Are you all set for later?" Kemper slipped off his leather boots.
"As ready as I'll ever be I suppose. I have a good feeling about it though. Listen to me, I'm starting to sound like you," Carlo laughed.
"Very funny smart ass," Kemper laughed with him.
"Seriously, have you spoken to Veronica?"
"I have. She's fine. Still tense, but I think that she is getting excited over the prospect of it actually working." Kemper thought to himself that he mirrored those feelings. Without meaning to, he yawned loudly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that." The day was catching up with him fast.
"Get some sleep dearest, but don't forget to set your alarm."
"I won't forget. I love you and good luck."
"And I love you. Goodnight."
Kemper sat on the edge of his bed after he hung up the phone, too weary to get up and wash his face. He wondered at Monique's unsubtle confrontation with Carlo. It wasn't like her to appear face to face and to use almost no magic while meeting with him. The only magic she had conjured was a juvenile spell to burn his wrist. It was almost as if she had been completely unprepared for the meeting. Her stupid ramblings and measures hadn't furthered her plot to capture Carlo.
What if Monique had accidentally come across him on the street with no clue he was even there? Carlo said she had appeared frantic. The last time Kemper recalled Monique becoming frantic was when she had called Carlo on his cell when Kemper had very first protected Carlo from her evil, having no idea of his whereabouts in the restaurant in London.
Yes, it was entirely possible for Monique to be unaware of Carlo and perhaps their meeting in the street really was coincidence. Getting up from the bed, Kemper went to the bathroom having more confidence in their magic. They may just have the luck and the skill to beat Monique yet.
Carlo hung up the phone knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so he made himself a mug of coffee. He only had few more hours until it was time to get up anyway. Carlo was contemplating going for a very early morning run in the frigid London air. The familiar chill in his lungs will be a sensation he may not encounter for a while moving to the islands. London had been his home for many, many years and he would miss it. He loved this city, but Carlo knew he was moving towards bigger and better things.
As he reached out his mind thinking of the city he was parting, an icy shiver slithered down his spine. She was out there, looking for him. He focused more and he could sense Monique. He summated that Monique must have no hint of where he was, because she was fiercely searching for him. If she was unaware of where he was, how had the reunion earlier occurred? He strode over to the window, looking out over the city as if he would be able to spot his hunter.
He rubbed the ruby ring Kemper had given him to use for the red talisman. It had worked much better than either of them had anticipated.
He closed himself off. He didn't want to take any chance of being unearthed. He hated that these precautions were necessary. The Monique that he knew and married would never assault and torment him in this manner; of course, if she were the same person, none of this would have happened. But she had changed, into something dark and cold. Shuddering again, not from the evil he* felt* this time, but from the wickedness he knew was out there.
Maybe it was all meant to be. Kemper thought that they were together before, in another lifetime. And it was different with Kemper. Everything was poles apart when it came to comparing his previous relationship with Monique and what he and Kemper had now. Kemper quenched a thirst in him that Carlo didn't realize he had possessed; he delighted in drinking of Kemper's essence as he would from a cool mountain stream. Kemper refreshed him, fulfilled him; his soul was meant to join with his.
Carlo went over and removed a small box off the side table. Inside was Kemper's "surprise." The adoration he felt for Kemper was something unique and familiar, and if it is a love that has spanned lifetimes, he could believe it.
She had not eaten or slept since she had seen him. She had raced straight home and to her altar to figure out why she hadn't had a clue that Carlo was back in London.
When Monique had seen Carlo on the lane, she had crashed into someone she was so stunned. Keeping tabs on Carlo had been exceedingly tricky since he had gone away with the black-haired succubus. But to be here in London and to have utterly no idea that he was here, that was more than disturbing.
And she still could not find him. She had been probing and searching since she had kneeled in front of her altar hours ago. But to no avail she couldn't unearth him no matter how many times she combed the metropolis.
Yet, Monique continued her quest. She had to locate him, so there was no giving up. Monique started becoming petrified that she may never get him back. What if she never found him? Then evil would be the only absolute in her existence. When Carlo was with her, his kindness and compassion, his overall virtue instilled a balance in her. With Carlo as her mate, it made it acceptable to practice selfish, wicked magic because there would always be a foundation of purity in her life. So, without Carlo...
"No!" Monique spoke aloud. "That is not going to happen. I will find him and no one will stop me!"
His wakeup call came at five a.m. exactly, precisely as Kemper had requested it. He stretched out his arms and legs, thinking to himself that he had slept amazingly well. He figured that he would have tossed and turned in anticipation of the spell they were casting in thirty minutes.
He got up and started the coffee maker and while he was waiting, began setting out his paraphernalia for the ritual. The three of them had identical tools, apart from Kemper who had his crystal wand with him. Kemper took his time making certain everything was specifically as it should be.
As he lay out his conjuring instruments, Kemper knew that he was ready. Not just prepared for the spell, but ready for the authority the ritual would bring.
Carlo, Kemper, and Veronica started the protection rite precisely at the same time, thousands of miles between them and flawlessly in sync. Once the opening rite was complete, the circle concentrated on clearing their minds and attaining gnosis for an hour. They took their time, wanting to make sure they were wholly centered.
Striking a match, they lit a sage bundle and smudged the sterling cloud of smoke over themselves. Next the trio took an engraved brass bowl and placed one by one; a tiny amount of sand from the beach, a few miniature sea shells, dried seaweed, rosemary, an aqua marine stone, and lastly an undersized vial of ocean water into the basin.
They spoke in unison, "Hurakan!" The moment they uttered a syllable the candles surrounding the members shook as the golden flames grew.
"Hurakan,
Bringer of storms of the sea and powerful energy,
God of the ocean winds-
We call on you.
We turn to you for protection.
Pray do not let us be destroyed!
Set your blessing of might upon us,
Grant us power birthed deep in the sea.
Accept our offering and show us mercy.
Hurakan, bringer of storms and powerful energy."
Three wooden matches were then ignited and released into the offering bowl. A shaft of brilliant green light rose up from each bowl. The burst knocked them from their kneeling position to their backs, unconscious, on the floor.
Kemper woke up and yawned. He smiled feeling so content. Why was he in such high spirits? Oh yes, the dream.
Holy shit, the dream!
He had at long last finished the dream! From beginning to end, no faces blurred out, and he knew why the water was glowing.
The phone started to ring. Kemper looked at the ringing object attempting to focus. That must be the car to take him to the shoot.
"Fuck!" He got up off the floor and ran for the telephone. It was his car; he told them that he would be down in five minutes.
Kemper began darting around the room changing his clothes and brushing his teeth. He was slipping on a pair of jeans when he nearly stumbled over the ritual workings on the carpet. He had almost forgotten about it.
The petite brass bowl was empty and his wand was lying close to where he got up off the floor. From the looks of it, he was thrown about three feet away from where he had been kneeling. Trying to recall exactly what had happened, Kemper realized that he was standing motionless. He didn't have time for this and with that, he scooped up his Gucci satchel and was out the door.
On the ride over, Kemper closed the ceremony and took a crack at sorting events out in his mind. He considered calling Carlo and Veronica and checking on them, but somehow, he knew they were fine. He began with the one portion of this morning's happenings he did remember, the dream. It seemed more like a revelation now that he knew the outcome.
First and foremost, the third of their coven was revealed. It was laughable how absolutely evident whom the third was.
His crystal wand had been empowered. He makes use of it to conjure spells in the dream-to cast a magic charm and to cast malevolence from their lives forever. Kemper had been unsure of how to include his wand into the ritual, so he had set it in front of him. The purpose of the enchantment was more or less an invoking of the spirit. The spirit he felt most connected with, the spirit of the ocean.
Kemper knew that to defeat Monique's violent attacks on them, they would need assistance. Monique was planning something. The surveying of the house and constant monitoring was a sign she was getting ready to strike. Kemper needed to make certain that they were equipped to counter her move.
The black town car came to a halt bringing him back to the current situation, the commercial. "You must concentrate on the commercial," he told himself. In the elevator going up to make-up and wardrobe, Kemper did a breathing exercise to relax him-breath six in, hold one, eight out, and hold four.
This commercial was important to Kemper, not just Chuck. This was his business, of course it was priority. He needed to relax; this shoot had to be remarkable if he was to be proud of it.
One hour and several breathing sequences later, Kemper arrived on the set with his ebony hair perfectly styled and make-up that made his jade eyes more vivid than he thought possible. He was wearing a white terry cloth robe and underneath small nude-colored briefs.
"Kemper, hi!" Chuck came rushing up to him. "You look so delicious, I could eat you," Chuck exclaimed while pulling aside a young woman with her brunette hair in a braid and her short bangs combed straight. Chuck introduced her as Kate and told Kemper that she would help him with anything he needed. Kate led him to a low-standing bathtub in front of green screen.
"Go ahead and take your robe off and lay back in the tub and we'll double check the lighting," Kate told him politely. Kemper did as he was told. The bathtub was long and shaped slightly like a banana so that he could fully extend his body and be comfortable. There was no water filling it and Kemper wondered if it was to be added digitally as well.
Once Kemper was de-robed and had settled back against the cool fiberglass of the tub, Kate returned and asked if he needed anything. Dennis, the director, came over when Kate was walking away, having been given no task.
"Hello. How are you feeling today Mr. Woods?" Dennis took his hand in his and squeezed it more than shook it.
"Please call me Kemper. I'm doing well. How about you?"
"I am fine, it's just that," a wrinkle appeared between his gray eyes, "I have a picture of what I want in my head, but I can't figure out how to make it work realistically." Kemper nodded his head in sympathy. Dennis shrugged his shoulders and let go of the crease in his forehead. "Anyway. I'm just letting you know that if I'm an asshole, it has nothing to do with you. You Kemper, are superb." And before Kemper could say thank you, he was off hiding behind a television monitor.
Kemper tipped his head back and lowered his lids. He began thinking about what Dennis had said, wondering what he was brooding in his mind. And just like that, the single thought was all that was necessary, he was there. There in Dennis' mind, linked with his thoughts.
Dennis was replaying the scene over and over again in his head. His idea was spectacular. He did see the problem with constructing it and making it appear authentic. He wanted the swirls of colors and lights that exude from the bottle, to lift him out of the bath as if suspended on a cloud. Then lifting him erect, his hands and arms go slightly behind him, and arching his back a tad, the prisms whirling around his body. The sparkling beam intensified as he began spinning faster and faster, ending in a final explosion of light.
Dennis was thinking that it would be an ideal finale to the commercial, and Kemper agreed. He was certain that Dennis could do what he wanted with the colors in the effects room, but the physical aspects would be more complicated.
"Okay Kemper, we're going to try one. Just act natural and follow my direction." He could hear Dennis, but not see him. He did see Chuck though, standing off to the side, grinning and giving him thumbs up.
"Quiet! Action!"
Kemper shut his eyes and focused. Without much exertion, he began floating upward. He could see the churning shafts of luminous color surrounding him, though there were no colors really there. It was as if tepid and cool breezes were rippling over his skin, leaving glittering trails in his mind.
If he had been conscious of the people nearby him, he would have seen Dennis come hurrying out from behind his monitor, Chuck and countless others standing wide eyed with their mouths gaping open. Kemper would have seen that every person was staring at him in awed disbelief.
He must have already been turned vertical without being aware of it because he was beginning to twirl. Kemper opened his eyes and they flickered emerald light. Though he was whirling more rapidly by the second, it didn't have an effect on him. He didn't get dizzy or nauseous, in fact, it was soothing. Taking in a deep breath, he laid his head back and slept.
Carlo sat on the plane drinking his coffee. He set down the dark brown liquid and rubbed the back of his neck. His brain was still having a challenging time computing that the spell had worked. He wasn't sure what to think when he had picked himself up off the rug after the spell. All he knew was that he had been light headed.
But as he had been sitting and waiting in the airport, he had wondered to himself if Monique was still searching for him. The airline gate had turned into his old flat; Monique's flat now. She was lying passed out alongside her altar. She must have kept pursuing him until her body gave out. Obsessed to no end.
"This is peculiar," Carlo thought. One moment he was in the airport gate and the next, he was observing Monique as if he were standing right there next to her. He understood that he had control of the situation and had to assume the invocation had given him this new, startling ability. To test his newfound talent, he let go of the scene in Monique's flat and returned to the crowded gate, and then focused causing himself to return to his ex's pathetic alter side view.
The burn on his wrist caused by Monique had completely vanished as well, he had been pleased to discover when he had dressed in his navy check that morning. Carlo's flesh had appeared to have no mark or blemish left over from the blister.
He downed his last gulp of coffee and reclined his seat back. There was still a long flight to go, so Carlo thought he would try to entertain himself with experimenting with his new skill further. He relaxed and closed his eyes. Carlo envisioned the ocean, the golden sandy sore, the lapping crystal azure water, the clean scents, and sweet smells. Now, to examine the scene in front of him, he took a step forward placing his now bare foot in the water. It felt as warm and authentic as anything his senses had told him before. He bent over and scooped some wet sand in his hand, rolling the rough grains in his palm with his thumb. It was real!
Wading out into the ocean, Carlo skimmed his hand along the top of the shimmering surface. Water had always had a soothing effect on his soul. Carlo was a Cancer sign, a water sign, so the easing by water must be natural he assumed.
Carlo returned to the seashore, sitting down so that the tide rolled over his feet. "Would you like a refill on your coffee sir?" Carlo opened his eyes and looked at the flight attendant standing next to him.
"No thank you, I'm fine," he told her and passed the coffee cup over her. The friendly attendant moved on to the next passenger. Carlo lowered his lids again and returned to paradise instantly.
Kemper felt the same way about water. He had fountains and bodies of water all over his home. Come to think of it, Kemper was a water sign as well, Pisces. What was Veronica's astrology sign? Carlo lay back on the beach looking up at the baby blue sky watching a line of snowy clouds pass by.
If he remembered correctly, Veronica was a Scorpio. A small smile curved on his lips. They were all three water signs. That seemed ironic given the ritual they had performed. Calling upon the spirit of the sea for protection, the main source of water.
Carlo shut his eyes and felt the tide lapping on his feet. He drifted off to sleep lying on his beach and dreamed. He dreamed of glowing water.