Walking on Shadows

Shadows. They lurk inside me, clawing to get out. I feel distant, transparent, an illusion from a forgotten time, an echo from the past that can barely be heard.

Or can it? The past, as I am well aware, always catches up with you, no matter how fast, or far, you run. It hides behind every corner, watching, waiting, materializing when you least expect it. It is a past that haunts, that will not allow you to forget and that possesses with the seed of vengeance. One that promises no escape. One that confines me in the covenant of a vow spoken so long ago, words that were once meant for forever.

I have always known the feeling of being followed, but such feelings decrease with time and non use. Though I could almost taste the bitter tinge of familiarity on my tongue, I could not, for all my otherworldly powers, see him. Not that I had expected to. He is a man who blends well behind the cloak of invisibility.

Charm and I had wandered into the Garden District, to Tia’s infamous bakery. My daughter has a sweet tooth far beyond anything I have ever possessed. The ahn was growing late and I wanted to get back to the house, so I had decided, against the small voice in my head, to take a short cut through a narrow alleyway.

Charmer. He had never truly liked the name I'd given our daughter, but he has aptly found a nickname that is more than suitable.

A rush of elation, compounded by the feeling of dread. It was a sign of the only man who could make me feel such conflicting emotions in a single breath, and even though I did not immediately turn around to face him, our child had, having little fear of the disembodied voice that echoed from behind the mask. But this was only because she did not remember it.

Both of Charm’s hands held tightly to my own and my heart constricted. He’d found me, us, the family he had forsaken more often then I could remember. Yes, he had found us again, just when the pieces of life’s puzzle had begun to fall into place. His timing was.. exquisite.

He was hurt when Charm did not rush into his open arms, but instead stood fixed, as if she was pondering the consequences of her actions. Sometimes I think she is a soul far older than me, her ability to see what other's cannot instinctual. Already she shows signs of knowing things she should have no understanding of. Sometimes, I fear for her. It will not be an easy life.

When it was apparent Charm would not be running into his open arms, he lifted from his crouched position to his feet, turned, and walked back towards the alley’s mouth. I should have let him go. I wanted to let him go. Every fiber of my being begged me to let him go, but I could not. I knew I had to follow him. I knew he wanted me to follow him.

When I stepped through the open door and into the semi darkness of his apartment’s hallway, trying to find him, I didn’t have to wait long until he pulled me to his side, whispering that he had missed me.

His next question was something I had heard often from him. The color of my clothing. I’ve always like the brown, it’s unassuming. It’s one of the things he’s always trying to change about me.

Charm watched him with eerie blue eyes that were exact duplicates of his own. I set her down on the floor and nudged her towards him. She seemed dubious, little brows furrowing, but she did take a step closer.. and another, until she was in arm's reach. She stood there, looking up at him, as if she expected something.. divine to happen. For a cold hearted killer, her father’s face was full of emotion.. and to my surprise, love.

It’s not that I have ever thought him incapable of such feelings; it’s just that I rarely have been allowed to glimpse that side of him. His eyes welled with tears and I could feel the lump in my throat growing larger. And I knew I could not allow myself to hope, for he would be gone as quickly as he came, a shadow in the night, disappearing in the darkness.

They spent the next two ahns getting to know each other, she telling him about her manimal ranch of rence, while I sat across the room watching. Then the order came, one I knew I would eventually hear. To disrobe.

He had removed Charm from the main room, the child already half asleep, the day’s excitement having worn off. I almost objected when I realized he was locking her in the loneliness of that large room, but seeing he had left the key in the lock, I did not.

He liked the changes in my body. I did not disagree.

He grabbed me and pulled me to him, kissing me, touching me, tasting me while he undressed. The numbers were still carved into his chest, a reflection of a distant past in an era long before me.

I almost allowed it, the joining of our bodies, a reunion born in sin, an imperfect love that refused to perish into the vast emptiness of my heart. Almost. And then I began to fight against him, pushing him away, praying that he would stop.

My mistake.

He'd left me. Not once, not twice, but a million times, over and over and over in each and every night when I dreamed. And for this I openly offered myself to a man who acted as if he owned me?

I could feel his confusion and then his anger. He shoved me backwards, his hand snapping around my throat, the pressure anything but gentle. I leaned forward and I knew he was about to rape me, but the action was cut short at the sounds of Charm, crying through the locked door. Calling out to me.

I pulled my shift over my head and hurried to the locked door, Charm bounding into my arms, her eyes filled with a child’s terror. She had dreamed that someone was trying to hurt me. I would never tell her it was her father.

I calmed her and put her back to bed, staying with her until she slept.

I knew he wouldn’t kill me, not because he couldn't, but because there was yet something inside
of him.. that wasn't finished with me, that might never be finished with me and by morning I knew that my body would be well abused, with or without my consent.

In my life I have loved only two men. Aiden, my first, and the man who took me away from him, his father.

I know now he will never allow me complete freedom from him. His love is possessive, controlling and manipulative and I think he would rather see me dead then with another man. He has told me over and over that I am his for life and that I will never escape, that he will always find me.

A fact I know too well.

So why do I stay? How can I still love him?

My only answer is because he is a man who demands it, and I am a woman who can not deny it.

The cards laid out between us told me what I already knew, that he would be leaving soon, journeying to a distant land. His pilgrimage will be a success, his goal reached. A goal that included neither me, nor his daughter. Charm and I would be left behind to fend for ourselves, again. I can’t even fault him for this, knowing long ago what I was getting myself into.

He told me he would return victorious. I believe he will, he always does. He told me he loved me. I told him I knew.

My shadow has a name.

Castor.