Desolation Portal excerpt

portal_cover-proof

A teaser from my novel in progress…

His name was Setn’iak, but everyone called him Angel.

 

The first time, he was wearing a black t-shirt, a fleur-de-lys disappearing at the edge of its left side, jeans worn a gentle variegated blue, and a white belt covered in a collage of skulls. Spiked hair, a goatee snaking the perimeter of his chin stained red by the moving lights.

At first a slight movement in my peripheral vision, I turned to look across the dance floor. Surrounded in a blazing coat of light. Outlined by the strobes, the tips of his hair a blond glory.

Fuck. I was made in that split-second. My breath stopped in a painful catching and Joe’s story disappeared instantly.

Moments passed and I started breathing.

“Cade…?” Joe touched my arm. “Are you ok?” he asked as my eyes re-focused on him.

I turned to look back across the room. A new song had started and the floor had filled. “Fuck. Do you have a cigarette?” I could hear my heart beat its own disconnected rhythm smearing the music in my ears.

“I thought you quit?”

“I did. Do you have a smoke or not?” I had to grab onto something before I fell down the hole that had opened inside of me.

“Sure… sure.” He reached in the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a pack of American Spirits. “Wanna go outside?”

“Yah, I could use the air.” I finished off my whiskey—a large gulp that burned its way down.

“You all right?” Joe asked again as we exited into the alley behind the club. The emergency door locking behind us.

It didn’t matter; Joe hadn’t seen him. And besides he was off men this month.

 

I asked around, but no one else had noticed anyone new. Adam who bartended in the back on Friday nights couldn’t remember serving anyone he hadn’t served the same cheap well drinks to a thousand times before. Brian still wasn’t speaking to me, but if anyone would know he would have. Why did I put up with his useless drama, if he wasn’t around when I needed him.

 

From that first moment, when he seemed to bring a halo of ineffable light with him, I wanted him. Sure, that comes as no surprise. It was sexual, certainly, but way more than wanting to fuck him or be fucked by him. He possessed me. Somehow from that first, I knew that if he mounted me, it would mean more than his simple entering of my body. I would be consumed, like a scrap of paper in an inferno. The flame would first curl the edges and than I would explode self-immolated. How the fuck I sensed from moment one that having him would mean losing myself, I’ll never know.

That night after walking Joe home, I couldn’t think of anything but being consumed by fiery flames of emptiness.

***

Glimpses caught.

I’d see the glint of his hair. The silver tips reflecting the green yellow red blue lights of the strobe at that new club that had just opened up.

Tight dance floor in the re-purposed space. I’d make my way across. Dancing Joe closer without his noticing.

But HE would be gone. Not there. That moment where I thought I had again set eyes on that person that had so captivated me that he haunted my daydreams. But it wasn’t him.

Or maybe it was

But he wasn’t there. Not in that spot where the roboscan had caught him.

Wasn’t there or wasn’t there any longer.

Joe wanted to leave. He always thought he should be somewhere else.

Joe wanted me to fuck him. He always thought everyone wanted him.

I couldn’t leave. The night had cemented me to this spot and ground itself to a hault. Bourbon laced my dizziness with waves of determination.

Had I seen him? Did Joe see him? Did he care?

Of course not. He thought he was going to get with me tonight.

Another night, maybe.

But right now Joe was the farthest thing from my mind. He was the utility of another set of eyes.

“Joe?”

He turned. His eyes half slanted with vodka tonics.

“Joe… Did you see him?”

“See who? That bitchy queen flourist bitch?”

“No,” I chuckled half laughing and half in frustration. “No not your last week! Him. The guy from the Underground the other week?”

“No.

“Wait… That flourist… I mean Kenneth is here? Where!?!?”

Fuck. Yes. I mean

“Yes. I can’t believe you missed him. He was right next to you at the bar a few minutes ago for fuck’s sake.”

“Molly with a hatchet! Fuck me. Where!?”

I scanned the room, defeated, “There.” I pointed diagonally across the dance floor and the gray shadow of the make-shift DJbooth. “There.”

***

It continued for weeks. Sightings caught on edges and disappearing around corners.

He was a phantom in my peripheral vision, haunting me, but he was never really there.

Nothing I could grasp a hold of.

And No One knew him. Sure everyone vaguely recalled who I was asking about but no one could provide any details.

Sure everyone knew him. Certainly. But no one could tell me any more than Everyone calls hims Angel.

Where he came from. When he appeared. Where he worked. No One Knew.

Nada nothing nichts…