DARKNESS EVOLVES Chapter Four
We slept in late the next morning. Daniel woke up in a cheerful mood. He seemed to have shrugged off the effects of the previous day's drama. I think being part wolf helped him to live more in the moment. All the sex we'd had the night before hadn't hurt, either. I ate a quick bowl of cereal and Daniel had a cup of coffee with toast. Then we headed over to the penthouse to meet Amber.
The day was clear and sunny. As he drove I watched Daniel's face. He hadn't shaved that morning and the 24-hour stubble gleamed like flecks of gold in the morning light. Every once and in while his eyes would slide my direction and he'd flick me a little quarter-smile.
"What are you looking at?" he finally asked.
"You, Daniel."
"Yeah, I got that. Why?"
"Because I like to."
The quarter-smile waxed to a dazzling grin. Daniel's grin is like a drug. You can't see one without wanting more — and having it directed right at you is like mainlining a pure narcotic. One hit and you're hooked for life. I got addicted early on.
My brother may be the artist, but even I can tell that he has incredible bone structure: a broad forehead with wide-set eyes and high cheekbones, a jaw that tapers to a chin that is strong but not overbearing. It's his bones, I think, that made Daniel beautiful from the day he was born. That and his flawless complexion. When he was a little kid his eyes were intensely sky blue and his hair was flaxen blond. I've seen pictures. As he grew they darkened seductively into gunmetal grey and a dusky wheat.
On three different occasions that I can remember, Daniel's been approached by talent agents who wanted to get him in front of a camera. Truly, he's that good-looking.
The kind of beauty Daniel has wraps a person in a protective aura. It creates its own kind of magic. People naturally like and listen to Daniel. They want him to like them. Social situations have never been something that my brother had any reason to fear; they're opportunities for him to be appreciated. Daniel never felt jealous when I was born, the way some older siblings do, because he knew I wasn't competition. He had no competition.
"Park there, Daniel." I pointed to a space as we pulled into the parking garage in the penthouse building.
He gave me a puzzled look, but pulled into the spot. I slipped off my seat belt.
"Why here?" Daniel asked as he killed the engine.
I slid a hand across his right thigh and up to his lap. "Because the parking-garage attendant can't see us." I unbuckled his seat belt and bent over to nuzzle my cheek against his crotch.
"What are you doing?"
I unzipped his khakis and started fishing around in his boxers for his cock. "I'm giving you a blowjob, Daniel."
He said something, but I wasn't listening. I was focused on how his cock stirred in my hand.
The fly on Daniel's khakis is long enough that, when unzipped, I could pull his cock and balls out without having to unbutton his pants. The zipper teeth still nipped at his scrotum, but that was okay.
Daniel's cock was still half-soft; I went down on it as soon as I got it out. I love feeling him get an erection in my mouth. He expanded down my throat, getting thicker and longer, filling me up until I couldn't suck and breathe at the same time. I stayed down until I ran out of air and came up slowly, tracing the veins with my tongue, licking the dome of his cockhead and gulping in air before I dove down again.
Based on the porn I've looked at, I'd say that Daniel's got a great cock. It's bigger than average, but not too much. When it's hard it's perfectly straight and almost as thick at the top as at the base, before it mushrooms out at the head. It doesn't taper or bend in one direction or another, the way some cocks do. And when it gets hard it's super hard.
It's a great cock.
As I went down on him again Daniel groaned. I felt a hand slip under my shirt collar. His palm slid across my back, the fingers fanned wide and digging in like a rock-climber negotiating a vertical ascent.
"Oh ... yeah," he moaned, running the hand slowly across my back.
As I sucked I wrapped my hand around the lower half of Daniel's cock and jacked him. We both knew this had to be quick.
It was. After a couple of minutes Daniel's abdominal muscles clenched into a brick wall against my cheek. His fingers burrowed into my back as his cock swelled and began pulsing. A wash of my brother's salty, sour-sweet cum filled my mouth.
"Fuck!" he grunted. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck!"
I latched on until he'd subsided. Then I licked up the fluids that had trickled down into the crevasses of his ballsack and carefully tucked everything back in his boxers.
"Jesus, Joey – " Daniel started to say.
I opened the car door and got out, heading for the elevator.
I heard him curse and get out behind me. He caught up at the elevator and we entered it together. Daniel didn't say anything on the ride up. Just before the doors opened he cursed again and zipped up his pants. I'd wondered when he'd notice that.
The penthouse lobby was empty. "Hey guys!" Amber called out. "In the kitchen!"
I followed Daniel into the kitchen. Amber was sitting at the island counter, sipping a cup of coffee and reading news on a laptop.
She looked up and smiled casually. "Help yourselves." She nodded toward the Brunn.
Daniel headed over. He drinks a lot of coffee.
I paused in the doorway. "Amber, is it okay if I try out your piano?"
"Yes." Her brow wrinkled in surprise. "Of course."
I walked into the living room and settled down at the baby grand. I flipped up the dust cover and, as my fingers wandered over the keys, I followed the taste of Daniel's cum in my throat back to its source. There my awareness coiled like a serpent, nestled in the warm viscous huevos of his scrotum. The eggs cracked open and the serpent slipped out and slithered its way up his spine, over and under the ladder-rungs of his ribs, climbing its way up to the vaulted space beneath his cranium where it could see through his eyes, hear through his ears.
Amber was still seated on the bar stool across the kitchen island from Daniel. I could hear my fingers tinkering on the piano in the other room.
"The full moon went smoothly?" she asked. Her gaze had gone back to the news.
"Yeah, so far as I know. Joey said there were no problems."
"Mmm." She nodded, still reading. "I'm glad. How did Walter sound?"
"He sounded fine. Better than fine, actually. He remembered you. That was a surprise."
"I made a visit while he was under Garland's care." She looked up from the screen. "He might be referring to that, rather than our encounter at his house."
"Right." Daniel was feeling confused and hurt. Amber seemed distracted, almost disinterested. She'd never treated him this way before.
Amber glanced toward the living room where I was playing. What she was feeling I couldn't tell; she was guarded against my kenning. The whole penthouse was shielded. That's why I'd suggested it. Amber probably thought their conversation was private.
"Hey, doc," Daniel reached over to touch her hand. "What's up?"
Her smile didn't make it to her eyes. Casually she moved her hand away and closed the laptop.
"I've been doing some research," she said softly, "about demonic possessions. They're pretty hard on the victim. Do you know how long one typically lasts?"
"No."
"For the lightblind, just a few months. For shadowkin it can be longer. Mercedes lasted two years before she died."
"I know. They always end in death?"
"Typically the demon leaves before death. But most victims don't recover."
Now Daniel's gaze flicked toward me. "Joey was possessed for six years."
"Yes. That's the longest I've found on record. He'll carry the cost of it for the rest of his life. He'll always be smaller than he would have been otherwise."
"You think that's what allowed him to hold on for so long? The demon ate his growth spurt?"
"That's part of it."
Daniel's thoughts were racing. I could feel the gears whirling around me. "Amber, why are you telling me this?"
Her eyes darted again toward the living room. "I want you to understand something. Your brother suffered six years of demonic possession. That's like serving three back-to-back tours in a combat zone, all before he was eighteen. He's never going to recover from that. He'll always need you, Daniel. Always."
"I'll always be there for him," Daniel said slowly. "Mercedes asked me to take care of him when our father died. I promised her I would. Did you know that?"
"No, but I'm sure you've honored that promise. You're a man of your word."
I felt Daniel take a deep breath and slowly let it out. "He's changing a lot, you know."
"Yes." She smiled faintly. "He most certainly is. His mother's shade is helping with that." She was watching Daniel carefully. "Do you know why witches don't usually have sons?"
Daniel shrugged. "Because you're all man-hating Amazons?"
Amber chuckled. "Not all of us. Legacy Darkness manifests differently in men and women. The inheritance of Darkness from mother to daughter is consistent. It's predictable. That's part of what allows lineages to stay powerful."
"What about for men?"
"Most male offspring of witches have no legacy Darkness. But when it does show up in men it can be very deep."
Daniel thought about it. "So Joey's a warlock?"
"No one calls them warlocks. When they're young they're called seventh sons. Because it's so strong, their Darkness makes them both endangered and dangerous. Don't worry — Joey's gotten past that stage. He's a sorcerer. He's going to be a powerful one."
"Powerful?" Daniel snorted. "This is my little brother we're talking about here?"
"That's what I said."
"Good." I felt Daniel's grin. "Good for him. He's been eating shit pie for half of his life. About time he gets to dish it back."
Amber looked like she wanted so say more, but she didn't. Amber's smart.
The conversation shifted to other topics. After a while I got bored and slipped back into my own body. What Amber had told Daniel was true. Darkness manifests differently in women and men, and no one knows why. It's another of the Dark Mysteries. For every six lightblind sons of witch mothers, one will come along and get all the legacy Darkness the others didn't. One out of seven: a seventh son. Mom had known what I was. She'd worked hard to keep it secret from her relatives. Mom had kept a lot of secrets.
Before my demon depossessed me, none of the Estrellas had realized that I was a seventh son. When Momma Lolotta had looked into my eyes she hadn't seen it. Even granting that my darkfather had been doing his best to distract her, there's still no excuse for that kind of negligence. One of the primary duties of a mistress is to protect her lineage from demonic intrusions. Grandmother had been out of it since her eldest and youngest daughters had destroyed each other.
Although it certainly hadn't been my darkfather's intention, killing Grandmother had been a favor to the Family. Now they finally had a mistress who was doing her job.
Eventually I got up from the piano and wandered into the kitchen.
"You sounded good," Amber said to me. Her voice was cheery.
"Thanks. The acoustics are great."
"Nobody's touched it in years. Come by and play any time."
"Speaking of time," my brother checked his watch, "you guys ready to go to Walter's?"
Daniel suggested we take one car, but Amber said she had some errands to run afterwards, so we took two. We caravanned over to Walt's house and parked in front. From the outside it looked no different from the last time we'd seen it. We got out and gathered around the front door. Daniel flashed me a confident smile, but I saw Amber's eyes flick across the street to the spot where Sherietta's bodyguard had parked. We were all remembering our last trip to Uncle Walt's.
Daniel rang the doorbell. After a moment Dr. Feller's former assistant, John, opened the door. He had on one of his long-sleeve oxfords, but instead of khakis he was wearing jeans.
"Welcome," he said.
"Hey John," said Daniel. "Good to see you." He shook John's hand. "Did Walter tell you we were coming over?"
"Yes. He's getting dressed. Come in."
John led us into the front living room. The drapes were open and on a credenza someone had arranged a vase of fresh flowers. The house smelled good.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
A smile tugged at the corner of Daniel's mouth. "What do you have?"
"Coffee, hot and cold tea, soft drinks, water."
"Coffee sounds fine for me. Amber?"
"Tea would be lovely."
"Bro?"
"Could I have a Coke?"
"Sure," said John. He turned and left.
It's interesting that Dr. Garland had wanted John to stay with Uncle Walt. There's something about vampors — that's male vampires — and their epileptic companions that Mom had known, but her shade had lost. It was one of those gaps Amber had warned me about.
"Danny, Joey! Boys, it's good to see you!" Walter stepped into the room. He was wearing slacks and a button-up shirt. His hair was damp but neatly combed. He looked good. Older, like he'd aged a year or two, but also more fit than I'd ever seen him. The potbelly was gone and he had even had a little tan.
He shook our hands. I could feel the effect of the many-in-one's work on him. He was calmer and more at peace than he'd ever been.
"This is Joey's cousin, Amber," said Daniel.
"Yes," Walter smiled at her, "we've met. Amber, it's good to see you."
"Likewise, Walter. You're looking well."
"Thank you. I feel well."
John came back into the room carrying drinks on the serving tray from Dr. Fellers' office. He'd brought an extra coffee for Walter. We took the drinks and settled down. John hovered behind Walter for a few moments before slipping out of the room.
"I wasn't sure whether you'd remember me," said Amber.
"You thought maybe she'd wipe the slate clean?" Walter chuckled. "No, she just smoothed over some of the rough patches. She told me that if she tampered with too much it might detract from my research on the Project. She seemed pretty keen that my work on that continue without interference. Something to be thankful for, I suppose."
"You aren't bitter?" asked Daniel.
"About what? Jonathan's death? The possession? My whole sorry life? Danny, I've been shaken up, turned inside out and thoroughly scrubbed. Terrible things have happened, but there's been a lot of wonderful in the mix as well. I'm happy to be alive and in full control of my faculties. God willing, I'll get twenty more years of this. Cheers."
He raised his mug in a toast and took a sip. We all sipped our drinks.
It was good to see Uncle Walt doing so well. I have this feeling towards him that's like a kind of kinship. We're both survivors of demonic possession, which is pretty rare. But even before that, we'd both yearned for someone we could never have. If Daniel hadn't been given the moon gift, we wouldn't be lovers now. I could have longed and suffered for decades. That's what happened to Uncle Walt, with Dad.
"So," said Amber, "you mentioned the Project. I had hoped to talk with you about it."
"Yes," Walter grinned. "I thought you might."
"Daniel said that you were trying to find a way to approximate when the Darkness might be renewed. Is that correct?"
"Yes. In essence, I'm trying to plot the decay sequence. Jonathan had played around with the idea early on in his work, before he realized that he needed to come up with a whole new model first. If you graph the sequence, with time and magnitude as the axes, you can render it as a continuous curve."
"How do you measure the magnitude of Darkness?" she asked.
"That's the challenge, isn't it?" Walter rubbed his palms together. "It gets even more complicated when you include two wrinkles that Jonathan and Mercedes identified. First," he held up a finger, "it's not diminishing at a constant rate. Our universe is trying to rid itself of Darkness and Darkness is resisting. That means that the less of it there is, the less resistance it offers. So the process is accelerating.
"Second," he raised another finger, "Mercedes believed there was a period, around five-and-a-half thousand years ago, when Darkness appeared to suffer a sudden dramatic drop, and then seemed to resume diminishing at its previous rate. If we assume that the hypersynchronistic decay curve is continuous, this means that when Darkness fell below a certain critical threshold it underwent a phase change that altered how it manifests in the physical world."
"English, Walter," interrupted Daniel.
"Think back to your high school physics. Phase change occurs when the temperature of a system falls enough to cause matter to shift from a higher energetic state to a lower one — say, gas to liquid or liquid to solid. The physical properties of a substance differ greatly from one state to another, even though they're the same atoms."
"How did Mercedes arrive at fifty-five centuries?" asked Amber.
"It was just before the beginning of recorded history. She hypothesized that the development of writing was a direct result of the mass disappearance of the gods."
Amber nodded thoughtfully.
"So the gods just disappeared all at once," said Daniel, "like the dinosaurs?"
Walter chuckled. "I believe the dinosaurs didn't disappear all at once."
"Can we assume," interrupted Amber, "that this cycle of decay and renewal has happened before?"
Walter nodded. "I believe that's a reasonable assumption."
"How many times?"
"Since the birth of our universe, I would imagine."
"So that would suggest that within the larger cycle of Darkness being periodically renewed, there could be smaller repeated stages as it dwindles."
"Quite possibly, assuming the HDS progression is the same each time."
Amber was nodding. Her eyes were bright. "The Hindus believe the universe goes through cycles. Each cycle has four yugas, or ages. During a cycle, the length of each age is less than the one before it, dropping from well over a million years to half a million years in duration. The ages also decrease in virtue and wisdom. At the end of the four yugas Brahma appears, vanquishes all demons to restore virtue to the universe, and starts the cycle all over again. A thousand of such cycles constitute a kalpa, or one day in the life of Brahma."
"How long does Brahma live?" asked Daniel.
"A hundred years of His days."
Daniel whistled.
"The notion of cycles of existence over which a kind of dissolution occurs isn't unique to Hinduism," continued Amber. "There are many religions that view the world that way. In all of them, at the end of each cycle there is some cataclysmic event and the whole thing starts over again. The idea that the universe progresses in a linear fashion that doesn't repeat itself is a conception that is unique to the modern Western mind."
She looked at Walter. "But that still doesn't answer my question. How do you measure the magnitude of Darkness?"
"Actually," he said, "I was hoping you could help me figure that out."
"Okay," Daniel leaned forward, "try this on for size. If it takes werewolves longer now to transform than it did at some date in the past, isn't that difference a measure of change in magnitude over time?"
"Werewolves?" Uncle Walt blinked. "Are there werewolves?"
"Assume, hypothetically," Amber gave Daniel a look, "that there are. And that the physical transformation from man to wolf takes two times longer now than it did, say, a hundred years ago. Would that help?"
"Well," Walter's brow wrinkled, "it still doesn't give us a scale."
"Sure it does," said Daniel. "It's a hundred years and twice as long."
Walter shook his head. "That's not necessarily a quantitative measure of the magnitude of Darkness. Think of it this way: how much greater is the unlikelihood of a human turning into a wolf in one hour compared to the unlikelihood of a human turning into a wolf in two hours? Is it twice as much, or only fractionally more unlikely?"
"Oh. Tricky, tricky." Daniel sat back, frowning.
Amber turned to me. "Joseph," she said, "do you have any suggestions?"
She meant did my mother's shade have any suggestions.
"The things you said all fit with what Mom thought," I answered. "I don't know if she came up with anything else."
That was the truth. But I had something else that my mother and the others didn't have. I had my darkfather's memories. I'd been stripping them from it, one at a time. For a being that had lived for ages and was once a god, they weren't that many. I think it forgot a lot of things as it dwindled. Removing the demon's memories has been pretty painful for it, like slicing away strips of a person's flesh with a potato peeler. It's fun.
I'd also learned things that no other living human knows. Walter's phase transition theory is right. What's different between a god and a demon is that a god can dwell within many people all at once, and a demon can only dwell within one person at a time. When the Darkness fell below a crucial level the spirits lost their ability to feed collectively off of their worshipers. Some of them disappeared then. Others — the ones most determined to survive at any cost — became demonic.
They'd had other falls before. There was a time when the spirits didn't need humans to feed off, a time before they were merely gods. When they lost their capacity to sustain themselves in other ways, they had to develop us enough to supply them with the psychic energy they needed. They drove human evolution. And there was another time, before that one, when they were even greater. The demon hadn't remembered much about that time, just that it was some distant and dimly remembered past when it had been a vast being, powerful and free to roam among the stars.
Its fall from grace had lasted eons; it was falling still. I bet that's why demons are so nasty, so bitter and filled with hate. We can't begin to imagine all they've lost. Poor Darkfather. I'd feel sorry for him, if he hadn't taught me not to.
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