Freakshow

Chapter Thirty Two

Our love was endless that night in Seattle. Perhaps it was being away from the Cirque, or being so close to Canada, or even listening to the distant rhythm of the ocean, but there was something powerful that night.

It was that night I first dreamt of Brigid. I believe something changed between Cairo and I, when we declared our devotion to one another, and that opened me up somehow.

That night she came to me in the form of an old crone, wise beyond wise with kind eyes and a quick smile.

Her voice was the same as when it had been in my head though, buzzing like the wings of hundreds of bees in perfect unison. It was difficult to follow at first, but my ears adjusted.

"Why are you here?" I asked her. We were standing in the middle of a lush garden, insects and birds flitted from flower to flower, a herd of grazing bison were just off in the distance.

"I am you," she replied with a grin, "where else would I be?"

"Then don't speak in riddles," I said, feeling irritated that my dream had been invaded. "Just tell me what you need me to know."

"This is just the beginning, my daughter," she replied in that buzzing voice, "we have much to cover between now and then."

"When?"

"The after," she replied. "Go back to him now, you need this to fulfill your portion of the prophecy."

"What prophecy?" I asked.

She reached out, her brittle hand wrinkled with paper thin skin stretched across her knuckles. She placed her hand on my forehead, smiled, blew a hot breath on my face, and pushed.

I fell back.

And woke with Cairo's hands traveling the landscape of my body.

"Good morning," I said with a sleepy smile.

"It's not quite morning, but it's going to be good," he replied. I could sense his grin in the dark.

I stretched my body, opened my legs and drew him into me. His piercings slid along my entrance, sending a thrill of ecstasy up and down my spine.

I arched towards him, dug my fingers into his back, and pulled his body as far into mine as it would go. I wanted to envelope him, possess him and draw him in, like air into my lungs.

God, I wanted him.

His mouth found mine in the dark, and our bodies found their own rhythm of lazy courtship. There was nothing more to it than our love being expressed by the undulating advance and retreat of our corporeal forms.

As Cairo's lips hungrily devoured mine, I could still feel the warmth of Brigid's breath on my face as his beard prickled against me. I moaned and ran my hands up to his hair, loosened it and felt it fall onto my face brushing me, tickling me as he kissed me.

He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, coming back to look me in the eyes and wordlessly continue to slide in and out, sending me higher with each thrust.

We came together, fast and hard, and with an intensity that shocked us, left us breathless and staring into each other's eyes. I wanted to break the tension of the moment with one of my usual smart ass quips, but I was unable to. It felt sacred, the potent vitality that was being exchanged between the two of us. If I broke the moment with vulgar language, it would be like swearing in church, the hallowed air polluted by the profane.

Our bodies slowed, a lessening of the transfer of power as we receded from one another. I felt a smile flicker over my lips, the ghost of a smile that was gone as quickly as it came.