CHAPTER THIRTEEN #3
“I preserve those talents for the next one I find, and the search is by no means easy. I’ve not met a worthy host since Lorca, someone whose talent and humanity I could love in equal measure.
In truth, I wasn’t there for you the night of the movie.
I’d heard promising murmurs about the director.
The singer, too, Alaska. But then I met you. ”
“Me?” Alex replied flatly. “You chose me over all the talent in that room?”
“You really must give up this unwarranted modesty. You possessed an energy I couldn’t place. It made you easy enough to find, even that day at the protest. Then, I came to watch your rehearsal, and the true source of that energy revealed itself.”
A cold shiver gripped Alex’s body. “Joanna. You wanted Joanna.”
“You said yourself she was the creative engine behind your show, and you were right.”
Alex couldn’t remember saying these exact words. “And me?”
“Don’t misunderstand, we wanted you too. Lorca wanted your beauty. Your talent. Your kindness and loyalty to your friends. Your charming self-doubt. All the usual business humans look for in a companion, at least if they’re mad enough to date an artist. It all drew us to you.”
“But my talent wasn’t enough to be your next host?”
“Ah, there’s that healthy ego. Don’t worry, Alex. Artists beyond counting have gone on to very successful careers without my help. It’s not so much that Joanna possesses a greater talent, but one I’ve not yet cultivated in all my years.”
“Dance?”
“No. Magick as an art unto itself.”
“Jo…Joanna’s not…”
“Darling?” she said, rejoining them at last from the darkness. “I don’t need your protection, but do me one favour. Take care of Vicente for me. He really does deserve a second chance, and it would be better if neither of your watched what’s about to happen.”
Alex scowled, shaking Lorca’s body as if to rouse him, only to find Jago’s athletic form in his arms once more. “Joanna, this is madness. You can’t just give yourself to this thing.”
“This thing you’re holding in your arms like it’s the broken body of Christ? This thing you happily went to bed with more than once?”
“That’s when I thought he was human.”
“He is many humans, and a great deal more.”
Alex lowered Jago’s head to the cave floor and backed away. “Come on, please. Let’s go home.”
A great sigh filled the cave as the entire assembled crowd drew breath. The sound rattled with death’s final chill.
“Alex? Jago may have spared you this, but I won’t.
Do you think talent, opportunity, and beauty worth having comes without sacrifice?
You saw the blood on our stage that day.
You saw them take away that thief’s body.
You knew it when Jago made love to you and your bodies left the floor, and you knew it when Si-Man just happened to drown in shallow water.
” She tilted her head, like a teacher disappointed her student was playing dumb.
“You accepted all his gifts. Now, I will accept his last one.” Joanna kneeled at Jago’s side, covered the last of his body with the ointment, and withdrew.
Alex bit his lip as the breath of the crowd found its own harmony, emerging as a long hum that filled the cavern like the organ of a cathedral.
“I could feel him searching for me,” Joanna continued. “I couldn’t reveal myself until I could make the transfer on my terms. Our audition for Maria was also an audition for him. As for getting certain obstacles out of your way, don’t despise him for doing what you and Vicente could not.”
Alex flinched as flames leapt from the fire between them and bounced off the cave walls.
The entire chamber seemed for a second to glow hot with such light he had to cover his eyes.
When he opened them again, Vicente was on his feet, standing perfectly still, head bowed and eyes closed.
Alex watched as Joanna leaned close to Vicente’s throat, whispering something in his ear.
Like a sleepwalker, he stepped carefully behind her, putting his arms around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder.
Then, Jago began to rise from the cave floor, floating just as had the night he’d welcomed Alex to his witch’s chamber.
He grasped Alex’s hand, at last opening his eyes and smiling.
At the same time, Alex swore he felt hands take him around the waist, those warm, soulful lips on the back of his neck, sweet, orange blossom breath breaking over his shoulders. Jago’s breath.
“Be everything we saw in you,” Jago whispered.
The wind and the humming of the crowd picked up again, howling so loud and fast, Alex could no longer keep his eyes open.
He felt his feet dragging forward over the stone, some irresistible force drawing the four of them nearer and nearer to the fire.
His attempt to call Joanna’s name met only silence as cave dust and ash whipped his ankles.
He felt his naked body collide with hers, and the hot coals beneath his feet.
What he didn’t feel was the heat of flames curling his skin, like some mystic who had embraced them with no fear of being burned.
When Alex dared to open his eyes, a great light flooded them with such ferocity he’d no choice but to turn away, burying his face into a chest that was now Vicente’s.
His stage manager’s black t-shirt caught Alex’s tears as he tried against better sense to see what was happening to Joanna and Jago.
It didn’t surprise him that Vicente now stood behind him.
It didn’t surprise him to see Jago wrapping his arms around Joanna, or Joanna caressing Jago’s shoulders and throat while they kissed.
It did surprise him, however, when she bit hard into his neck.
Jago’s scream soared above the chorus and the winds, echoing against the cave walls and filling Alex’s mind with dread.
Joanna gripped her prey fast as she drank deeper and deeper, barely allowing a droplet of blood to escape her ferocious hunger.
After several seconds of shock, a grin crept over Jago’s face.
It was meant for Alex, or perhaps for both Alex and Vicente.
This… this was the power Jago had sensed.
The power he craved. This was the next Jago, yet there was, Alex somehow knew, no way it could still be Jago, nor Joanna.
Something new would emerge, and it would continue the witch creature’s terrible yet wonderful cycle of creation anew.
“Alex?” Vicente whispered in his ear.
Alex pushed himself deeper into Vicente’s arms, watching Joanna and Jago rise from the cave floor and disappear into the light, leaving a thin trail of blood in their wake.
“Alex,” Vicente said again, kissing him on the neck.
Alex turned, taking Vicente’s kiss deep into his mouth.
He lifted Vicente’s t-shirt up over head, pushing his face into his chest, welcoming the blond hairs that tickled his nose, that familiar scent of football, cigarettes and gentle musk that he’d so often inhaled with the ravenousness of a newly liberated young man in love.
Vicente’s pants slipped to the ground, and their bodies rolled together onto the stone.
With each caress, each kiss, each touch and provocation, Joanna and Jago seemed as distant a memory as the play that had brought them first to this cave of witches, then back into each other’s arms.