Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu (16 page)

“One day someone emailed me and
gave me the address of a man who, they said, had eyewitness info.
That address was deep in the ghetto, which made me pretty nervous.
But I went anyway. I found the apartment, knocked on the door.
Suddenly I had the most creeped out feeling and started to walk
away. Then, the door opened, and a man came out. I say a man, but I
knew from the get-go that it wasn’t a man.”

“How did you know?”

Kithara raked a hand through
his hair, making it stand up on top. He frowned. “I just knew. For
one thing, he didn’t look like anyone you’ve ever seen before. He
was stunningly beautiful, very tall, porcelain skin, brilliant
violet eyes sparked with gold and bright red hair that was long,
almost waist-length, braided into many little braids. He wore a
long black leather coat with a fringed scarf tied over his
shoulders and red high-heeled cowboy boots. An incongruous
combination to say the least. He laid a hand on my arm and said, ‘I
hear you are looking for me.’

“‘I don’t think so,’ I replied,
because even as stupid and naïve as I was, I knew he was
trouble.

“He said, ‘Yes, you are. I’ve
been monitoring you. I know you’ve been drawn to us for some time
now. You have only to take the final step.’ Then he smiled,
revealing long, perfect teeth. I started to run. Next thing I knew,
I was surrounded by what appeared to be a gang of beautiful Goth
boys, all different, and yet all with the same knowing light in
their eyes.”

“Wow,” I said. Unaccountably, I
felt envious.

“Wow, indeed.” He shifted,
taking another sip of wine. “They dragged me to a cellar, tore off
all my clothes, put a tourniquet on my arm to pop up the vein, and
then Thiede – that was the red-haired guy – injected me with a
syringe full of his blood.” Kithara fingered the thick white scar
on his arm. “They went through a freakin’ weird ritual with drums
and chants. I was scared out of my mind. I thought they were going
to kill me. And then, for three days while I went through althaia –
that is the change – I wished that they had.”

He paused, rubbing his temples.
“On the third evening I woke up as myself but altered. Better,
stronger, more beautiful. A new being. They named me Kithara and I
became fully Wraeththu. I am clever, little Jareth. Under Thiede’s
tutelage, I blossomed. Soon I was in charge of a gang of my own and
became responsible for more of the terrible rumours that drifted
like smoke around the city.” He looked at me from under his lids.
My skin prickled, but I couldn’t figure out what it meant.

He pushed a strand of hair back
behind his ears. “I worked hard and earned Thiede’s trust. He made
me one of his elite. He has grand schemes, Thiede does, and has yet
to reveal the full extent of them. We follow blindly because we
must. The future belongs to Wraeththu, Jareth.”

“So you say.” I was becoming
very uncomfortable; my burned face itched and I had to resist
clawing at it. “What happened to you, then, Kithara? If you were so
powerful, how did Sligo get hold of you?”

“I grew arrogant and careless,”
Kithara said. “And the Aghama punishes hubris.”

“The Aghama?”

“The first of us… our god, if
you like, or the nearest we have to one.” Kithara grimaced. “I had
a huge fight with Thiede about a plan to take over a human gang’s
territory. We had arms and hara enough to do it. Thiede said it
wouldn’t work and it would be on my head if it went wrong. And it
did. Half my gang was killed; the other half captured. Our enemies
auctioned us off on the internet to the highest bidder. In my case,
it was Sligo who bought me. They tied me up, threw me into a truck,
and shipped me out here. I thought I’d die from thirst. We stopped
several miles away from here and Sligo came to inspect the goods.
He insisted on being shown exactly what it was that made me
different. It was completely humiliating. I offered to give him
some first-hand experience, but he was too savvy for that.”
Kithara’s mouth twisted.

“What, um, what exactly is it
that makes you different?” I said, feeling shy, fearful of the
answer, but I had to know.

“Ah, curiosity killed the cat,”
Kithara said, with a smile. He reached over and gently laid a hand
on my crotch. I jumped in surprise and a jolt of pleasure shot
through me. His fingers flexed.

“Kithara...,” I began, but I
didn’t really want him to stop. I was a virgin with tremendous
yearnings and he was pushing all the right buttons.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said,
and began massaging me through my jeans. When he had succeeded in
fully arousing me, which didn’t take much, he ran two fingers along
either side of my throbbing flesh, outlining it through my jeans.
“There, that’s a human male. I remember having one of those. A very
demanding little beast. I have an organ something like that, but
altered, and just as capable of pleasure, more so in some ways. But
beyond that, I have a female portal too. I am both male and female.
Do you want to see?”

I was somewhat squeamish,
slightly drunk, immensely curious, and totally turned on. I
nodded.

He laughed, thumbed open his
pants button, pulled down the zipper, then raised his hips, and
wriggled out of his leather jeans. He turned to face me. I looked.
The devil take me, I had to. Oh god! It was emerging from a nest of
short, blond fur, unfurling like a fern, a bizarre kind of flower,
petals pulsing with colour. This was it, his secret. It was
beautiful and it freaked the shit out of me. Like something from a
pipe dream. Only then did I truly understand how different
Wraeththu were. Alien. I was both shocked and excited in a
strangely, savage way.

He leaned forward, wetting his
lips with his tongue. “Touch me.”

I shook my head violently.

“You wanted knowledge, human
scum,” he said. “So learn.” He took my unresisting hand and brought
it down to fold around his organ, stiff as a rod, but warm,
flexible, and alive, petals peeling back. Then he moved my hand
down and pressed one of my fingers into a narrow, moist opening. I
gasped, closing my eyes.

“I’m aching for aruna,” he
said. “Please, let me touch you.”

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t
move, couldn’t look.

I heard him spit on his hand,
felt him unzip my pants, take me out, and stroke me in a firm grip,
thumb spreading moisture. So hot; so compelling.

“No, I can’t do this,” I
moaned.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise.
Doesn’t it feel good?”

“Yes,” I gasped, “oh, god,
yes.” He was unrelenting. I found myself moving my hips, back and
forth, pushing into his hand, blood throbbing, skin tingling, until
the need became too great, too overwhelming. I threw back my head,
and with a loud groan, shuddered out a glorious climax, all over
everything.

I opened my eyes in time to see
Kithara’s face wracked with the same ecstasy I’d felt. Could he
feed on my sensations? He lowered his head, opened those
diamond-shaped eyes and stared at me, eyes burning as if he could
laser holes right through me. So beautiful. He was all that I’d
ever wanted, all I’d dreamed of, but he was not mine, could never
be. And I was ashamed that he, a shining angel, had done this thing
for me, a burned wreck of a man.

“No more, please,” I said,
pushing his hand away. Tears welled in my eyes.

Kithara rubbed his hand on the
mattress, then reached over and tenderly moved my hair away from
the burned side of my face. “You try to hide yourself,” he said in
that soft, melodious voice. “But I see who you really are, Jareth
Nine, and you are beautiful.”

A tear scorched down my cheek.
“Are you going to kill me now?” I asked, pitifully.

“Not at all.” He sat back,
laughing softly. “I believe you are already partially Wraeththu.
Would you like to become complete?”

“What the hell do you mean,
partially?” I said. “That’s not possible.”

He opened his mouth to say
something, but at that moment, I had one of my visions, accompanied
by the falling sensation in the pit of my stomach. I closed my eyes
and saw a murderous throng of people marching past the circus
gates, armed with guns.

“Kithara, get dressed,
quickly,” I cried. “They’re coming for you. I know it!”

We heard shouting. Far off, an
elephant bugled. Someone knocked loudly on the trailer door and
then Pavel burst in, panting. “Kithara, some men are coming and
they don’t look too friendly. Sligo sent me. He says to hide.”

“Where?” Kithara asked, looking
pointedly around his bare dwelling.

“Not here. Sligo said to go
hide in his trailer,” Pavel said. “Craig, you need to come with
me.” He waved at the roustabout who had been standing outside
guarding Kithara.

“I’ll take him to my place,
Pavel,” I said. He nodded.

Kithara followed me out into
the humid night. I took him on a short cut through the tents. We
heard more shouting in the distance.

Just as we arrived, the door to
my trailer opened, projecting a rectangle of warm, yellow light
into the darkness. Esmeralda stood there like righteous anger,
large and imposing in her pink nightgown that had feathers around
the neck and sleeves. “What’s goin’ on?” she called.

“A lynch mob,” I said, grimly.
“Coming for Kithara.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Well, get
in here.” She stepped back inside. Hastily, we took the step up
into the trailer and slammed the door.

“Do you think they’ll search
the grounds?” I asked.

“Can’t say,” Esmeralda replied.
“Shit, I was afraid of this after what I heard in town the other
night.” She raked an assessing glance over Kithara. “So you’re the
demon boy who’s got everyone all riled up. You look pretty harmless
to me.”

“Looks are deceiving,” Kithara
said, with a smirk. “I’m actually quite wicked. Tell her,
Jareth.”

“Might want to shut that smart
mouth for a spell, honey. Better go hide in the closet.”

Kithara nodded and disappeared
down the hall.

“I’m going to go out there, see
what’s happening,” I said.

“Be careful, Jareth,” Esmeralda
said. Then, unexpectedly, she gave me a hug. Her breasts felt like
doughy pillows against my chest. Comforting.

I put on my mask and went out
into the night. A steady breeze was blowing, hot and dry. People
were running every which direction, but it wasn’t hard to find the
source of the commotion. Near the entrance to the big top arena, a
group of about one hundred men were gathered in a semi-circle
around members of the circus community. The intruders held guns,
flashlights, lanterns, and ominously, several of them were carrying
torches. I thought that it looked like some kind of bad movie, the
final scene in Frankenstein. But this was real and frightening. I
worked my way up close and hid behind a concession trailer.

A tall man and a short one were
arguing with Dr. Sligo. Behind Sligo stood Pavel, Tom Houston,
Stubs Wheaton and about a dozen others, including Craig the guard
holding the shotgun. Dr. Sligo said, “What the hell do you people
think you’re doing here!”

“Haven’t you heard?” said the
tall man. “There’s been an uprising of these mutant things in
Mid-land. They’ve killed a bunch of people. We have to get rid of
this threat, stamp it out permanent. Better get out of the way or
you’ll be guilty of harbouring a criminal.”

“This one hasn’t done any harm
to you,” Sligo said. “And he’s under guard all the time. He’s no
threat.”

“That’s not so,” said the short
man. “He’s influenced people, perverted our young folks. Dr. Sligo,
either you turn him over or we’re going to torch your circus.” The
man next to him grinned and waved his flaming weapon.

The circus crowd gasped and
then there were angry murmurs. Sligo leaned over and whispered
something to Pavel, who whispered back.

“Now, truly, there’s no need
for all this lawlessness,” Sligo said, raising his hands, palms
out. “As soon as you bring me a written warrant for his arrest,
I’ll turn him over.”

“This is our warrant,” one of
the men said and shot his gun in the air.

“Hey, none of that, none of
that!” Sligo yelled. “Fine, you want him. I’ll take you to
him.”

He led the group down the
midway, taking the long route towards the trailer that had housed
Kithara, probably figuring he would be gone by the time they
reached it.

This was getting serious. What
would they do when they discovered Kithara wasn’t there? Could we
hide him successfully all night from these creeps? Possibly, but
what if they came back tomorrow? I had no faith that the local cops
would protect us.

It had become clear that
Kithara needed to escape from the circus altogether and that he
should leave under cover of darkness. Like now. How to do it? My
head was in a whirl. He’d need a car, water, food, cash. How much
money had I stashed away in the jar under my bed? Maybe six hundred
dollars? Not much. Then I paused for a moment. Why should I help
him? What was he to me but one of the savages that had killed my
family? I should be happy to get revenge. But no, I didn’t feel
that way anymore. Things had changed, just as he had said they
would. I could still feel his touch on my face, his soft voice
saying,
I see who you really are, Jareth Nine, and you are
beautiful.
A moment of revelation, as if he’d applied a cooling
balm to my scorched soul. No, I could not stand by while they shot
him like a dog.

The intruders were fanning out
over the grounds. Circus people melted away before them. Time to
act.

Walking calmly so as not to
attract attention, I headed in the other direction back to my
trailer. I stopped at a concession stand, grabbed a cooler and
filled it with bottled water, chips, apples, sodas. Found a dolly
and wheeled it along, seeking the dark areas between tents. I
stashed it behind my trailer, then cautiously knocked on the door.
Esmeralda opened it and pulled me inside.