Windows of the Soul

It's funny how some things you remember clearly while others vanish without a trace. Like driving home: there are days when I'd remember every detail of the trip and others when I'd just find myself in my driveway without remembering a single thing. The latter was how I found myself following Shyla.

The last thing I remembered was sitting with her in the vault at C.O.R.B.I.N., waiting for the pills to take hold. She leaned back to stretch. Her arms made a popping noise and she groaned.

"You okay?"

She nodded and stretched further until her shoulder popped too. "I need to get out for awhile. This place is starting to bug me."

I smiled, but the hotel I was staying at was the only thing I was going to see anytime soon. I'd never been much for the club scene and my level of shyness was near astronomical. At least in the real world. I felt a sudden flash of heat and smelled wet skin, but before my brain could take hold of it and make anything out of it, the thoughts disappeared. It was the first sign that the pills were taking hold. The vault kept us isolated until we were under control again. No one was interested in letting anyone's secrets leave with us.

Shyla laughed a bit and leaned forward to rest her arms on her knees. She looked up at the pendant lamps and then her smile widened. "Yeah, I know what I need all right."

The image flashed again and this time I could hear a distinct moan, but there was conversation mingled with it and again, I was too slow to latch on to it before it faded again. I looked up at her and saw that she was biting her bottom lip and staring at me. I felt myself flush and tried to pretend I hadn't perceived anything. She knew better though.

"I don't mind, you know," she said and I felt myself flush and my ears almost burned from the embarrassment. I got up and crossed the room to the kitchenette. I busied myself with a cup of coffee and offered her one. She declined, but she sent another pulse of thought to me that made me drop my mug. She was on her hands and knees, and this blurred hulk of a man was behind her driving deep into her so hard that her knees left the floor with each thrust. I winced as a stab of pain arched through my finger.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, Vane!" she gasped and jumped up from the couch. She took the dish towel from the refrigerator and waited for me to rinse the blood out of my cut. It wasn't too deep, but the drugs thinned the blood a bit and I bled freely. She wrapped the towel around me and pressed hard.

"Sorry," she said again. Softer this time. "I was just playing around, I shouldn't have done that."

I forced a weak smile, but I had been half-expecting her to try something like that. The image was still in my mind like a slow-motion video loop. Her face was fresh in my thoughts as she was filled to overflowing, over and over again. "I...uh, I mean, it's okay, really." I took the towel and let her brush me aside so she could make the coffee for me instead. "By tomorrow, I'll be right as rain."

"I don't even want to think about tomorrow. I've had enough of thinking. The last ten days have been nothing but thinking, for me and everyone else in that fucking zoo. I'm going to wash-out, and then I'm going to let someone else do the thinking for awhile. Maybe a few someones." She turned around with a steaming mug and traded it for the towel again. She opened it a bit to check my wound and gave a half grimace. "Nope, still dodgey." Then pressed firmly again. She cocked her head at me. "What do you do to cleanse, Vane?"

I thought about it for a moment, but wasn't about to tell her that I usually went back to my hotel and racked up the pay-per-view porn bill so I shrugged. "Not much, I guess. I just stay at the hotel. Occasionally go to a movie."

She looked scandalized for a moment. "That's it? Are you kidding me, I mean, with your talent you could be out banging every woman who..." She caught herself and suddenly looked very angry with herself. "Sorry, Vane. That was stupid of me."

I wasn't sure why she apologized, so I took a sip from my mug to cover the awkward moment. She looked at my finger again and smiled. "There you go, all better."

I looked over at the digital clock that clung like a vulture above the sealed door to the vault and nodded toward it. Shyla glanced over too and we both smiled. We had less than an hour left before we'd be deemed 'safe' to reunite with the outside world.

"What did you mean by a few someones?" I said and then suddenly realized she wasn't talking about Johnny Walker or Jack Daniels. A flash of thoughts hit me and I started to stutter out my apologies like a machine gun.

To her credit, Shyla just laughed. She was good at that. Nothing ever seemed to get under her skin, at least not for any discernable amount of time.

"Oh my god, you should come with me, you could use the distraction!" The offer hit me between the eyes and I really had no clue what she meant. She must have seen the polite refusal coming because she cut me off before I could start. "There'll be plenty of people there that you can mingle with or seclude yourself behind. Plenty of drinks and really good food. There's even a few private rooms where you can sneak away if you get to feeling overwhelmed. C'mon, Vane, 'Carnal Instincts III' isn't going anywhere, you should get out and live a little. Besides, it'd be so much cooler if there was someone else like me there. You could be my remote, how fucking cool would that be, huh?"

I was still going to refuse when my brain processed her dig about the plans I had for the evening. I was obviously not the only one who was having a hard time letting the pills do their job. I think she also misunderstood my hesitation in answering as a wavering on whether to go with her or not.

"Please, Vane?"

Why did she have to be so damned cute? Her curves were just large enough to invite the imagination and she could be as severe or as demure as she wanted at the drop of a hat. She had the mind of a scholar and the mouth of a drunken sailor and was perfectly content with it. Saying yes was a forgone conclusion. And thinking back, I have my suspicions that she'd planned it for weeks. Maybe not every detail, but enough to get me squirming and trapped.

The last hour in the vault was spent sitting across from each other on the U-shaped couch talking about where we were going. The hotel was in the Czech Republic somewhere, maybe Prague, but she wasn't sure. She had a linear trace she was going to use to get us there and back once we got to my hotel room. She also told me all about the 'rules' I was to follow once we got there. "...You can talk to people, but only if they talk to you first. You're new, and people can get a bit skittish."

My brow furrowed a bit. "I can't talk?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds. You can go anywhere, look at anything, and say anything you want to, but let the established patrons speak first. They're not cold-hearted people, just cautious."

"Of what, exactly?"

"Of being thought of as deviants, freaks, outsiders..." She trailed off for a second, but then bounced back in full spirit. "And try to stay close to an observation point; once we link up, it's going to be so totally fucking cool."

"Wait, where are you going to be?"

"I usually wander off, but this time I've got something special in mind. You won't be able to miss it."

And then she was off on another tangent about how well-furnished the hotel was, how many dignitaries had stayed there, about how many there might be when we arrive. She told me absolutely everything I could possibly want to know, except for exactly what I wanted to know. She avoided the topic of what I'd seen in her mind with the precision of a surgeon. Once the door chimed the five minute mark, she stopped talking and we both gathered up our travel cases and coats. By the time the plainclothes security detail arrived to escort us out, we'd both managed to conceal our feelings under a mask of fatigued apathy.

I don't remember checking out, or the shuttle to my hotel. I do vaguely remember Shyla leaving for her own hotel, but my next real solid memory was after I'd showered and dressed. Shyla knocked lightly and when I let her in, I suddenly felt grossly underdressed. She wore a black sequined dress that looked like black diamonds, only watery. It clung to her like a glove and yet seemed to flow with her movements.

"You're wearing that?" Shyla sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She looked down at my clothes again, then turned to my closet and started to look through the hangers. I knew what she was going to choose before her hands even stopped. Sure enough, she turned around with my black suit dangling from her finger. She peeled off the dry-cleaner's wrapping and handed it to me. "Put this on, and don't forget to change your shoes." She headed over to the window and stared out at the night. She glanced back and scowled. "C'mon, Vane. Get changed." I know I blushed, but instead of turning back to the window, she turned for one of the chairs and sat down to watch. She bit her bottom lip again, waiting. If it wasn't for the bundle of nerves in my stomach, I know I would have been seriously turned on. It was the weirdest sensation I'd ever felt.

I don't think I've ever felt more insecure as I did at that moment. Every muscle in my body felt like it just popped out of a Jell-O mold. I didn't try to impress her or even show off-- I'd have just made a bigger fool of myself than I already felt like. When I finally got my pants clasped, I dropped my belt; twice. Shyla didn't laugh, she didn't even frown, just got up and crossed the room like a phantom. The only thing I could hear was the sound of her dress shifting around her legs and my own shallow breathing. She took the belt from my hands and slipped it through the loops around my waist. I felt my face flush when she tucked in my shirt. Her fingers passed over the insides of my thighs and then smoothed out the fabric covering my ass. She had this weird Mona Lisa smile on her face when she pulled back to clasp the belt. I was almost numb with embarrassment when she reached up to straightened my collar for me. Shyla smiled, then unbuttoned the top of my shirt. "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She turned back toward the window and led me by the hand. With every step an excuse shot through my mind. I could start feeling sick from deactivation sickness, cancer, plague, anything... My stomach clenched. I couldn't lie any better than I dressed. The moment the thought crossed my mind, Shyla gripped my hand tighter as if I might suddenly back out and lock myself in the bathroom. She pulled open the drapes and I saw our reflections in the glass. If I didn't know it was us, I'd have thought we looked great together. It looked that perfect. I glanced over at her. "You do look fabulous."

She smiled, but there was a devil in her eyes that knew more than I could ever dream. "Thank you, Vane. Ready?"

Before my brain could form the response, we were already fused with an unseen beam of light that enveloped us and pulled us through time and space. It was like a cold rush of wind was blowing from my heart out through my skin. It was...peaceful. I didn't realize I was holding my breath, but when I finally needed to breathe again, I choked and the sensation faded, and we were standing in a grand foyer. I coughed and fought back the gagging feeling in my throat. She let go of my hand and I felt the heat of her palms on my face. She waited for me to catch my breath, then pulled me close and kissed me so softly on the lips, I almost thought I'd imagined it. Then she turned away from me and headed down the main hall.

I blinked a few times, then realized there were about three dozen other couples standing around the room watching me. I looked down at the floor and noticed I was still standing in the arrival gate and moved aside. Once I was able to collect my mind a little, it looked like we had arrived at a cocktail party or some corporate function right out of a movie. The men all wore dark suits; the women looked polished and radiant. I was so far removed from my natural element that I almost ran to the nearest bar. Shyla told me where everything was and what to expect, but the reality was still a shock to the system.

I was about to ask the barman for something, then caught myself before the words left my mouth. He looked up at me, smiled kindly, and stepped closer. "May I get you something, Sir?"

I looked over his shoulder at the rows of bottles, but couldn't decide. "Have anything good to settle a scattered nervous system?"

He smiled, and poured out a tall measure of club soda with a slice of lime. It wasn't at all what I expected, but as I walked through the place sipping on it, I admit it worked better than anything I could have ordered myself. As I wandered the halls, it dawned on me how small the place really was: two floors, one main entryway, and one two-story library where the upper level looked down over the lower. There were a half-dozen rooms sprinkled here and there along with a handful of bathrooms. It was the perfect place to host an overnight dinner party, or for an elder statesman to retreat from the public eye for a few days.

I traded out my empty glass for a pinch of something stronger I couldn't pronounce and made my way up to the second floor of the library. I hadn't seen Shyla since she kissed me in the foyer, and the hushed conversations and muffled laughter was starting to feel a bit too conspiratorial for my liking. More than once I caught people watching me from behind the veil of their private conversations and it was starting to grate on my nerves. The books seemed a lot less prone to agitation, and were infinitely less judgmental about the company they kept.

As I looked across the shelves, the first thing I noticed was that a fair amount of the titles were printed in Latin or German. There were a few English titles, but they were mostly dictionaries, and encyclopedias. I was looking at the upper shelves when a faint moan tickled the back of my ears. I felt a sudden jolt of fear, and glanced around. The upper walkway was deserted and only lit by overhead lamps that focused the weak light on the bookshelves. The closer I moved toward the handrail overlooking the lower library, the darker the shadows around me became. I heard it again, just as the ice in my glass cracked from the heat of my hand. The sound felt like a cannon shot in the near-silence.

When I stepped up to the rail and looked down, I saw a tall man leaning back against one of the bookcases. From where he stood, he was concealed from the other couples talking at a sitting area near the doors. Kneeling in front of him was a beautiful blonde woman. The man was holding a drink in one hand, his head tilted back with his eyes closed. His other hand held her hair back gently as she moved his cock in and out of her mouth. The contrast of his dark skin against her fair was so mesmerizing: as were the fluid movements of her hands as they worked his shaft and the motions of her throat as she swallowed.

"They're beautiful together, aren't they?" Her voice was soft in the darkness, but it hit me like a fist. I gasped and almost dropped my drink. A woman was standing not two feet from me, also watching the secret moment unfolding beneath us. Her skin matched his, but her eyes were on the woman servicing him. "She loves what she does. Much more than I do, at least. She likes the role of being submissive to him."

I swallowed the lump in my throat with the help of the remains of my drink. She glanced over at me briefly. "The woman you came here with-- is she yours?"

I shook my head slowly, afraid of what the answer would bring. "I saw the two of you arrive. There was love in her eyes when she kissed you. Even if you couldn't see it." She turned to face me directly and even though she was nearly a head shorter than me, she seemed to have such a commanding presence that I actually straightened up like a soldier before a drill sergeant. She stepped in closer to me and ran a feather-light touch from my shoulder to my waist. "Have you ever watched her before? With another man, I mean...?"

My breath caught on the scent of her perfume. It was light as a summer breeze and smelled like a ton of money. "No," I managed to say. It was hoarse, and sounded much more confident than I felt.

"Are you the jealous type?" she turned her back to me and pressed herself into me. She seemed to melt into me, her ass pressing hard into my groin while her hands reached up behind her and clasped behind my neck. She looked down at the library floor and the woman was now bent over a small table with the man was behind her, pounding heavily into her. The woman in front of me groaned softly and pulled my head to her neck. I opened my mouth to kiss her, but she pressed harder so I bit instead. She moaned that much louder. The small group from the sitting area had moved in closer to watch.

One of her hands dropped from my neck and slid down my body to press between my legs. The moment her hand touched me, Shyla found us.

"I see you've managed to find something you like, Ryn."

The woman pressed against me jumped at Shyla's voice. She arched away from me to hold onto the handrail. "I was just teasing him a little, that's all."

Shyla stepped between us and filled the empty space easily. She wove her fingers into mine and looked up at me. "Are you ready, Vane?"

Ready for what, exactly? I felt a shudder of delight as her other hand pressed against my cock and squeezed gently. Our eyes locked and I felt my mind suddenly connect with hers. I wasn't feeling what she felt or even seeing what she saw, but I could tell she was looking through me. She actually adjusted her hair as if I were a mirror before turning around to face Ryn. I felt a small part of the fire that must have been burning silently inside Shyla because even though her words were soft and silky, I could feel the razor blades hidden in them.

"Be kind to him, and gentle. And only for tonight. When we leave this hotel tonight, we'll be leaving you with it."

Ryn nodded softly and made to move in a fashion that looked almost like a curtsey. As Shyla moved off toward the door, Ryn slipped back into her position to watch downstairs. "See what I mean, she loves you."

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I didn't. The feeling of Ryn's body pressed into mine coupled with the feeling of Shyla's mental link was overwhelming. More people had gathered along the upper railing, but everyone was bathed in shadows and outlined by books. The floor below had also had an increase in attendees-- some tucked behind bookshelves, others in full view of everyone else. Some were only kissing passionately, some were half-dressed, and a select few were completely naked and content to remain that way. I was trying to take in every sensation, every sight, sound, scent, and feeling of the world around me but I had to close out most of it or else be lost in all of it.

When Shyla appeared at the edge of the lower library floor, a half-dozen heads turned to watch her enter. She walked past the naked couples and the frenzy of lust toward the center of the room. A woman who was serving plates from the buffet line came in after her and when Shyla stopped, the server pulled a small silk scarf from her apron and blindfolded Shyla before starting to undress her. There wasn't anything sexy about how it was done. It was clinical, more practical than anything else. The clothes were removed for their own protection, and carried out with the care shown wounded animals. With Shyla naked for everyone to see, blindfolded to prevent anyone from being apprehensive to advance on her...it was like she was being fed to piranhas. She turned slightly, squaring herself to my eyes. She could see herself through me, I could feel it in my core. To discuss what we did at C.O.R.B.I.N. was a strict taboo-- a violation of everything we stood for. But I knew at that moment what she was, how she worked, what her abilities entailed. I felt the love she must have held secret. Something Ryn saw so readily. In that moment, I understood.