UnTouchable, Vol 1. Dreams, Boys and Creatures of The Night

Chapter Eight: For Luke's Sake!

The woman known as Bridget Towers made her way toward the plated glass. Her green overalls were distorting to the eyes. Ashton felt automatically sick. It was the colour, the ugliness of a deep green which brought to memory when Niall threw up on him at the movie theatre. The texture of soft digested avocado and the stench of stomach bile threw him off. As long as he never had to see that colour again he would be fine. But, he wasn't now. Thanks Calum, I didn't have to be here. Bridget sat down, picking up the telephone handset.
"Bit young to be lawyers, aren't you?" she asked. Calum shook his head.
"Actually, Ms Towers...we need to talk to you about the accident." he replied, she snorted, smiling sarcastically.
"As if you fucking believe me kid. Look, tell the District Attorney, if he's stooping this low for a confession, that he can -"
"We're not here on behalf of any law firm." Ashton interrupted, sternly.
She looked tired, that or she'd been beaten in the yard. "You're not?" she asked, Calum and Ashton shook their heads. "We're actually here to ask you a few questions about the man you described."
"Oh, god. Are you fucking with me?"
"Do you recognise this man?" Calum asked, holding up the picture of Steven Meyers. Bridget got off her chair and started to go into a panic attack.
"Where did you get that?"
"Public record. Do you know him?" Calum replied, Bridget nodded and tried hard to breathe. She held onto her chest.
"That's the bastard who made me crash!" she snapped in a whisper, her voice husky and mild. Perfect assumption for a pack-a-day smoker. Just like Meyer's. Well, they didn't know yet.
"You're sure?"
"Yes, that's Steven Meyer's."
Ashton and Calum looked at each other wide eyed. "How do you know his name?" Ashton asked. Bridget looked at the pentacle on Ashton's necklace, she pulled another identical. "You're a -"
"My coven, The Brides of Anubis...we were close to taking down this warlock who was killing witches in their dreams. He caught me off guard." she said, wiping her brow. "My coven abandoned me, so they wouldn't expose us."
"Then why did you say that the man was in your dreams?"
"That's not what I said!" Bridget shouted. Calum pulled the handset away from his ear, his ears rung for a few seconds, putting it back. Ashton placed his ear back near Calum's. He could smell the boy. He smelt like lavender and frankincense, what a scent. "I told them Steven drugged me. Which he did."
"Then how did the jury come to a conclusion?"
"Steven knows people." she said, her bottom lip trembling. "He knows people in high places. Plus, he's got money to boot." she fiddled with her hand cuffs, looking around her surroundings. Making sure nobody was listening, she beckoned her finger. She got closer as Calum and Ashton did too. "Kill the bastard for all I care."
"We don't know how." Ashton exclaimed. Bridget screwed her face and wiped it once more, "Unless you know a place we can get the information."
"Go to my coven, they gather in Mount Druitt Park...it's the equinox so, go tonight."
Calum smiled, hanging the headset back on the hook as it swung a little out of place. Thank you he mouthed. He was going to kill Meyer's and get Bridget out. One way or another.

2

Michael sat on the desk of the computer lab, Luke clicking away at a keyboard. "Do you think I could get extra credit for volunteering this Cross Country Carnival?" Michael asked, chewing into his apple. Luke wasn't listening, he was busy reading the articles he'd found. Steven Meyer's dirty laundry. "Luke?"
"Did you know Meyer's is a professor at The University of New South Wales?"
"You weren't listening to a word I was saying, were you?" Michael sighed, Luke looked up at his lover and took his glasses off.
"I'm sorry, this whole Dream Sorcerer thing..."
"Yeah, I know." Michael munched on his apple again. "But, it's our anniversary...we should be, I don't know. Perhaps find a quiet room -"
"Before you finish that sentence, may I add that this thing between us is a secret. Besides, it's only been a year."
Michael looked down, he threw his apple toward a trash can, missing it completely as it fell into the lap of an eighth grader. Sliding off the table, Michael grabbed his bag and put it over his shoulder. "Only a year, huh?" he asked, Luke looked puzzled. "Luke, this relationship may have already lasted a year, but I can end it in a second." He turned and started down the hall. Luke regained balance to his feet, briskly pacing behind Michael who was storming his way toward the lockers. Luke hated when things got heated between he and Michael, all the good it did. It was though he was more than a boy friend. Michael treated him like a psychologist more than anything, and if he was using Luke, he wouldn't have even minded. First came the borrowing of sheets, then came Michael inviting Luke for coffee in his dorm. After coffee came warm kisses, then a few weeks later came the mutual masturbation between them. That turned to sex, which quickly became lust. At first, Luke never got it, he never saw the puzzle in Mike's eyes before he started becoming more than a friend to the boy. Michael was more of a mentor, and though he might have been a punk, he was lesser than man for only one reason. He had a secret that he couldn't tell. He wasn't able to, the shame that Luke might be exposed too soon took flight in his mind. I'm not against gays, though I don't agree with their life style. The words of Mrs. Hemmings. Oh, what a fucking liberty, lifestyle!
Just shut your whore mouth, those who swallow cock don't care what you think, Liz! Words of those who frowned upon the witch who taught her son only the ways of the Wiccan Rede and the creed for which it stands! The Star Spangled Triquetra - That was a liberty! Luke wasn't afraid of his mother, he was afraid of her not loving him. Although he never heard his mother say the things he thought he heard her say, it was something he saw in a dream. And when the gods speak to you through dreams, or recollection - Hey, man...you fuckin' take it!
"Michael, wait. I don't want you to think I meant it that way,"
"Oh, no, I'm sure you didn't." Michael swung his locker open, the stench of Brut deodorant coursed through Luke's nostrils. "I'm sure you meant something else. I'm glad you think our relationship is not important."
There it was! Michael's insinuations got him in trouble half the time, it was useless to even mention his poor attitude. His father hated that, but then again - Mr. Clifford had a face Mike wanted to punch more than he wanted a ring on his finger. He was clingy, but he wasn't oblivious like Luke was half the time.
"Hey, you guys - I'm tutoring a class here. Do you mind?" Rose asked, peaking her head out the science classroom door. Michael rolled his eyes.
"It'll just take a sec, we're not fighting." Luke replied.
"Yes we are." Michael corrected, "Are you really telling me that you don't care about this relationship?" he asked, hands on his hips. Rose crossed her arms.
"Oh, a lovers quarrel. Fucking fantastic." she muttered. Luke shook his head to Michael's question.
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
Silence...cold and frosted silence. Luke said nothing.
"You're thinking of something to say!" Michael pointed a finger toward Luke, he shook his head and scoffed.
"I am not."
"You are, and let me tell you something Luke," Michael started, "You may be able to lie yourself out of your mother's clutches - But, you can't squirm worth of shit with me. Okay?" Michael slammed his locker, it's hinges spat dust from it's bolts. The skunk like kid started down the hallway in a fiery temper. Luke looked at Rose, he rolled his eyes and continued back toward the lab. Rose looked in on her class which were watching the kerfuffel in the hall.
"I'll be right back." she said, "Keep reading what we studied about quantum physics." She sprinted down the hall and toward the gym. She wasn't the most noted for being sympathetic. But, Rose had a heart. Inside her deep kaleidoscopic mind, she had a conscious of compassion and remorse. She had style, and class - but she mostly had a heart. She climbed the gym bleachers, sitting down right next to Michael, he was looking out at the basketball court. "Michael, what's wrong with you?" she asked, he shrugged his shoulders. He said nothing.
Nothing!
"If you keep treating him like that, you might lose him."
"Me, lose him, after all -"
"Why are you so uptight?" Rose interrupted. "Not everything is life and death."
Michael snorted, "He acts like he doesn't care."
"Yeah, he's a guy, that's what they do. And when he's scared about coming out of the closet -"
"He's bisexual...his mother should be flattered that her son digs pussy like a tom cat..."
Awkward silence. Too awkward. "Take it easy Mikey."
"Only my mother calls me that...and I call her Karen." he sighed, heavily.
Rose got to her feet, treking down the bleachers like a soldier down the hills. She cleared her throat grabbing the door panel.
"Michael, when you're done sulking, take a look at yourself. Because your attitude is ugly."
He'd think about it...he'd look at himself, probably hating who he was inside. The words that he spewed from his vocal chords was more than attitude. It was Daryl and Karen who made him this. A witch, a queer. A sense of no meaning in his soul. His father was a harbinger, an angel to witches-kind. A guardian spirit. Michael lost all spirit when shot down by the carelessness of Luke Hemmings. But it was Luke who made him the person he was. He was Michael Gordon, the boy that you wish you knew! But, the boy you loved to just stare at. His face pale and pasty like a frosted ice cake. Hair on point, and an attitude to kill. He was more than a witch, he was a Clifford! A fifth generation witch with a beating heart and strong disposition. Luke didn't love Michael for his tall broad shoulders, or his cherry lips or even how Michael would wash his mouth with soap if he tasted blood. He loved Michael because he was Michael-fucking-Gorgeous-Gordon-Cutiepie-Clifford. And he liked it that way.