Blood Cursed Read online

  “You love being the MAN who hunts and catches dinner, don’t you? It’s so caveman of you, I better watch out or you might bonk me on the head with your club and drag me into your cave.” I joked as I climbed into the boat and poured some fresh water over my body.

  Gaven stopped what he was doing and watched me as the fresh water rolled down my body, rinsing the sea water from my skin.

  I smiled, accentuating my chest by pushing out my breasts and making small ooh noises. Gaven loved a show especially, when it merged sexuality and water. Come to think of it Gaven was drawn to anything that had to do with water. In private, I liked to call him my little eel.

  As I allowed the cool water to refresh me from the sun, I thought about Gaven. Since the day I met him, he’s in search of water, be it lakes, ponds, oceans, or streams. Now, I love the mountains. I insist we take one vacation a year to the mountains in order to ski or camp depending on the season. When I say camp, I mean fancy mountain cabins with electricity and running water. A 4-wheel drive all-terrain vehicle for those late-night chocolate runs. After all, I’m not a savage.

  Last summer we traveled to the Adirondack Mountains and rented a cabin for a week of water skiing and laziness. I spent the day sipping iced tea and reading the latest bestseller love story. I sat on the porch, sinking comfortably into the hammock when I realized Gaven had been gone for more than three hours. He needed enough time to ‘land a giant pike’ for dinner. The sun began to set and the air quickly cooled. I decided to walk the short distance to the edge of the lake in which the lovely cabin nestled. After slipping on my sneakers, I trekked the quarter mile down the tree-canopied path to the water. I watched the sun as it drifted towards the horizon as I wound my way closer to the lake. The trees opened to a small pile of sand called the beach. Gaven was not there. His fishing gear and camping chair faced the mirrored surface of the lake. The air was still. In the distance, I could see a few cabins nestled into the hillside circling the large lake. Lights from the cabin windows randomly sprung to life as the evening drew closer.

  Smooth as glass, the water reflected the setting sun. The surface mirrored the sky showing a beautiful array of golds, oranges and reds. I began to notice a glimmer in the middle of the lake. A light illuminated from beneath the lake moving toward the surface. I fixated on that spot. There one moment and gone the next, I searched for the light as Gaven came up behind me and said “boo.”

  “AHHHH. What the hell are you doing. You scared me half to death.” I yelped.

  “I highly doubt that.” Gaven answered laughing.

  “Well I was having a mysterious moment just before you scared me.” I answered seriously. “I saw a blue, silvery and white light under the surface of the water just seconds ago and then it disappeared.” Confused at what I’d seen.

  Gaven laughed, “well was it blue, silver or white?”

  “All three. What if it was some alien being or supernatural creature?”

  “Hannah, you’re reading way too many science fiction novels. You saw airplane lights reflecting in the lake as it approached the small airfield a few miles from here. I heard it pass by as I was sneaking up on you. Come on let’s get inside before the bugs devour us.” He grabbed his gear and headed up the path to the cabin.

  “I was reading a love story, not science fiction.” I protested.

  Looking out over the dark lake, I decided Gaven was right. I must not have heard the airplane, I thought as I followed Gaven up the hill.

  I pulled away from my memories to see Gaven’s face as he watched me pour the fresh water over my sun warmed skin. I felt cooler, but from the look on Gaven’s face I knew he was the one getting hot. He quickly closed the gap between us and led me into the tiny cuddy cabin, which held a cushioned bench and a closet sized head. Gaven removed our bathing suits. His green eyes glittered with an internal light. I shuttered and leaned into him for a long passionate kiss. Amazing, all these years together and we still got the heat.

  The kiss deepened as Gaven pulled me down onto the bench. With quick powerful movements, he was inside me. Our passion did not have time to build for it peaked immediately. We allowed the tingling sensations to course over and through our bodies. After lying still for several moments, Gaven looked down into my eyes and smiled.

  “You should come fishing more often.”

  I smiled back. This was the man I loved, Mr. Easygoing fun guy. I wish we could keep this level of communication and connection all the time. But I hid those thoughts from him, not wanting to ruin the moment.

  “Well, we should head back before those clouds build up any higher. Could be thunder storms rolling our way.” He looked out at the sky as he pulled his trunks back into place.

  I gave him a kiss. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” He kissed me back.

  We held each another for another moment before beginning the process of racing the thunderclouds home.

  Chapter 5

  Sunday morning arrived with a loud obnoxious knocking at the front door.

  “Gaven, Hannah, wake up you lazy asses, its Mimosa Sunday. Franks got breakfast cooking and the champagne on ice. Come on you guys, wake up.”

  It was Kevin, our next-door neighbor. He and his partner Frank moved here a year ago from San Francisco. They had enough of the gay scene and wanted to live ‘like two old ladies in South Florida.’ They’d evaluated both Miami and Punta Gorda, and lacking any Spanish speaking ability, landed here.

  Kevin and Frank are both mid-forties and whenever asked about their age they refuse to give a direct answer. Only a smile and a “tsk, tsk.”

  They both have dark brown hair, brown eyes, thin frames and are in excellent shape. Frank is 6’2” and about 6 inches taller than Kevin. These guys live healthy, quiet lives. They said that San Francisco was full of partying and mayhem and they were too old for it all. Well they got their wish. They moved into Punta Gorda, heaven’s waiting room.

  Frank took a job as the head chef at a super swanky Yacht Club. Kevin is a nurse. Frank’s has Sundays and Mondays off and insists we celebrate Mimosa Sundays every few weeks. The choice of Sunday’s is always a surprise, but we never refuse. Given Frank’s culinary skill, I’m usually not hungry again until dinner. Frank and Kevin are amazing neighbors and have become good friends.

  Kevin works for the local hospital in the Alzheimer’s and dementia wing. He loves taking care of the patients and even more he loves to talk talk talk. He can tell the same stories every day and they are new again that’s the benefit of working in the Alzheimer’s wing. It’s an ongoing joke with Frank that Kevin never shuts up unless his mouth is full. Frank lists all the items Kevin should stuff into his mouth. This game usually gets pretty disgusting until I play the “I’m not listening” game complete with fingers in my ears. It continues until the three of us are rolling with laughter. Gaven smiles slyly as he steals food off our plates while distracted.

  I opened the front door to Kevin dressed for a luau: Hawaiian shirt, bamboo sandals and a grass skirt sipping a mimosa.

  “Hannah, get dressed, it’s time for brunch. Frank got inspired by some pineapples and mangos, now we have a complete Hawaiian feast.” He said in between sips.

  I moaned. “Alright give us ten minutes.” Shutting the door in his face.

  Back upstairs I told Gaven to get a move on. Ten minutes later, we arrived next door in our best luau clothes. I dressed in a short sun dress with a pattern of dolphins and waves and Gaven wore his best Sponge Bob pineapple shirt.

  Gaven led the way to the kitchen where we discovered the source of many wonderful tropical smells. Fruit lined the counters along with a huge variety of yogurts, granolas, eggs, pastries, bacon, ham, sausage and last but not least pineapple pancakes.

  “Yummy,” I sniffed the lovely cacophony of aromas.

  Now, Frank only utilizes Frank’s kitchen. Kevin is forbidden to touch, cook or even look at any of the gadgets that line the counters. The last time Kevin cooked he prepared a sp
ecial meal for Frank, forgetting to take something off the stove which caught the kitchen on fire. One insurance agent and two contractors later Frank built his dream kitchen. Hence Kevin’s kitchen wide restraining order.

  Gaven and I made a beeline to Frank, peering over his shoulder at the bowl of fresh fruit. We gave him a kiss on each cheek while simultaneously snatching a piece a strawberry.

  “Hey, you thieves,” he joked, “go sit and I will begin serving my feast.”

  Frank dressed similar to Kevin, but his shirt was all blues and greens to Kevin’s oranges and reds.

  We all sat at the brightly decorated kitchen table and dug in. Another pile of food that included mimosas, fresh tropical fruits, Hawaiian coffee, egg scramble with fresh herbs, and ham awaited us. “The ham cooked all night in a fire pit,” Frank declared with a sly grin.

  “Ummm, what army are you feeding after we leave?” I sipped my mimosa.

  Frank smiled as he carried over another bowl of what looked like hot steamy buttery grits.

  “My favorite,” Gaven grabbed the bowl and scooped a large spoonful onto his plate.

  “Since when do Hawaiians eat grits? Are they SPAM flavored?” I poked fun at Frank.

  Frank raised his eyebrows as he sat. “They do not, but Gaven loves them and so do I. Anyway, all this food goes to the homeless shelter after we finish. Who I might add, love my food and never complain.”

  I scoffed, “I don’t complain only comment.”

  To which Kevin laughed out loud, “yeah right.”

  Gaven’s smart-ass comment was muffled due to a heaping mouthful of grits.

  “Enough of you guys, I’m hungry.” I crammed some pancakes into my mouth. The room grew silent. The only sounds, four people chewing in ecstasy. Frank sure knew how to make the most delicious meals.

  After several minutes of stuffing our faces, Gaven sat back and patted his belly. “Another fantastic meal Frank. I hate to eat and run, but the studio calls.”

  Gaven needed to finish some pieces he was working on. He wanted to be ready for an upcoming show in New York and had some last-minute details to finish on his sculptures. The pieces shipped on Monday with the gallery planning to display them by the end of the week.

  As usual, Gaven would not be attending. He hated talking about his work. “They are a part of me and then they are no longer mine.” He explained. He doesn’t like to be there when his ‘babies’ are purchased or reviewed.

  “I must sculpt, it’s not a choice.” Gaven explains whenever asked about his work.

  Depending on the size of the piece, he usually works with a blowtorch or soldering iron. After the welding, Gaven spends hours smoothing and buffing to bring it together and shine. He adds iridescence to the surface as part of the buffing process. The colors give a feeling of flow and movement to his work. Collectors and other artists ask him to share his technique, but he kindly refuses with a charming smile. Gaven won’t even trust me with his secret.

  Gavens’ creations have become increasingly well-known and people try to pressure him to accommodate their requests. Agents and gallery owners want a piece of Gaven and the art community wants to know his story. Magazines and newspapers write articles about the mysterious artist.

  Gaven loves his work. Happy he makes a living, but he wants no part of publicity or fame. He sends his pieces to different galleries when ready and moves on. I believe there are mysteries inside Gaven from his childhood he refuses to reveal to anyone, including himself. I never pried, but it hasn’t stopped me from wondering.

  He doesn’t talk much about his life in California and has limited contact with his family. When he moved to New York to live with his Aunt and Uncle he put his past firmly in the past. The good therapist that I am, I don’t pressure anyone to talk until they are ready. Gaven is not ready. All people have secrets, even me. I think.

  Gaven thanked the guys for brunch, gave me a kiss on the cheek and a promise to be back around 3:00pm.

  He slipped out the door. “The life of an artist’s wife,” I mumbled.

  “Oh, can it Hannah,” Kevin snipped, “now you can spend the day with us sunbathing, drinking and gossiping.”

  Frank grinned, “Any reason to gossip and Kevin is always available.”

  “You know it.” Kevin giggled.

  “Speaking of gossip, “Kevin added, “Did you see the paper this morning?”

  “Not yet, since I was rudely awakened by my mimosa drinking neighbor,” I joked.

  Kevin leaned forward lowering his voice. This is what Frank and I called ‘Gossip Stance.’

  “The paper said that there was another attack last night and the person died. It also called the attacks extremely vicious and the person was barely recognizable. I called some friends at the hospital who said they overheard the police talking. The police believe the attacks are actually murders even though an animal is involved. They think a person controls the wild animal, telling it to attack and kill.” He paused for dramatic effect and then continued.

  “They said last month there were three attacks, one before the full moon, one during, and one after. This month the same thing occurred. No animal they have ever heard of hunts in that manner. So, they think there is some psycho using the moon cycles as their ritual. All the victims are women in their 20’s and 30’s.”

  Frank and I let out the breaths that we were holding and allowed the shock of Kevin’s story wash over us.

  “You found all this out while I was cooking this morning?” Frank asked.

  “Yup. I do have connections, you know.” Kevin answered with attitude.

  “So, Hannah, since you are a woman, you need to be careful to never be alone during the three-night full moon cycle. At least until they catch this person.” He added very seriously. “That’s what they are calling it, the full moon cycle.”

  “And, they are calling the killer,” He paused for effect, “The Werewolf Killer. How exciting to have our very own serial killer.” Kevin said back in gossip mode.

  “You don’t have to be so entertained about it Kevin,” I prodded.

  “Well, since we moved here from San Francisco, I’ve been so bored. This is the first excitement I’ve seen in ages.”

  Frank chimed in, “Can it Kev, you and I both know we needed a break from city life. You can bitch and moan all you want. I know you love Punta Gorda country life.”

  Frank looked at me, “He’s loves real life soap operas.”

  I pretended to be upset, “No compassion.”

  “Who needs compassion when you have drama,” Kevin threw his arms into the air.

  “Well maybe you should join the local community theater and add some spice to your world.” I thought about my real-life patients and all their fears.

  “That’s the best idea I have heard all day,” Kevin stood. “I will start right now.” He grabbed the newspaper showing me an announcement for auditions for the local community theater later that evening.

  I lifted my mimosa and smiled at Kevin, “Break a leg, my friend.”

  Frank cheered along. He leaned in as Kevin danced around the kitchen in delight, “Anything to keep him out of the gossip mill.”

  I winked at Frank while thinking about the poor woman murdered last night. Killed by a large human controlled animal controlled yet different enough from a wolf to be unidentifiable. My thoughts skipped to last night’s dream about Rebecca as a wolf and the howl that we heard in the distance. Could it somehow be linked? Impossible, my rational brain rejected the crazy idea.

  I turned to watch Kevin pull Frank on his feet, spinning him around the kitchen while singing a song I recognized as a popular Broadway show tune.

  Chapter 6

  The next few days cycled between uneventful work, home, sleep, work, home, sleep. By Friday, I tired of all my clients and their troubles. Being a therapist can be as enjoyable and emotionally satisfying as it can be draining and exhausting. This particular week fell in to the latter category. I spent the entire time talking
about the newly named Werewolf Killer. Every one of my clients feared being attacked and murdered, thanks to the newspaper. I exhausted my sanity reserves and felt a bit punchy.

  For some reason, animal attacks generally did not garner much attention. Any implication of human influence and everyone flips out. So anyway, my whole week was spent with overly excitable people becoming more excited. If I had to talk one more person through a panic attack, I might just offer myself to the killer and be done with it.

  I paced across my office as I waited for my last client. Yippee, the end of the week. Since felt so anxious, I slipped off my shoes to lie down on the carpet to stretch my back and legs. This always helped to calm and center myself. Thanks to my yoga training, I learned to reduce tension and relax through certain poses and focusing on breathing. My favorite was corpse pose. It entailed lying flat on my back, palms out, eyes closed and breathing while clearing my mind and centering my energy. Within five minutes, I accomplished bliss and was ready for a nap.

  The sun began to set. I heard a car pull up and the beep of the lock being set. I gently eased myself off the floor and slid into my comfy therapist chair. Always thoughtful, Gaven bought one of those expensive mesh ergonomic chairs all the dot com people used to ensure maximum productivity. Gaven sold a piece and apparently tired of hearing me complain about my crappy work chair. He surprised me one day with the $800 chair. Boy, that was the best $800 that he could have spent on me. Forget jewels, furs and vacations, give me an ergonomic chair any day.

  My office is a few miles away from my house in an updated strip mall. The location at the far end which gives me a primo parking spot right out front. I also have two additional parking spots reserved for my patients. All are partially covered by the very large awning attached to the front of the building. The coolest part is the awning covers just enough, so when it rains I don’t need to carry an umbrella to get to my car.