Chapter Fifteen

Unlike their two, recent drives, Helena and Kate hardly opened their mouths, during the long trip to New York. It seemed that the gravity of the situation had stolen the fledgling witch’s will to be her usual, sarcastic self. Kate kept her eyes on the road, stealing a few glances down at Helena, as if she had been trying to get her to speak. Even so, the seasoned witch was too preoccupied with her own issues to start a conversation. In a way, this reminded her of the night that Cliff had been intoxicated. Her motives might have been the same, but, this time, she felt even worse. Why? Because: he was no longer a stranger to her. She didn’t know him well yet; after all, they had only been out on just one date, but it was enough for him to show her some aspects of his character. Those aspects appealed to her, proving beyond the shadow of a doubt that he deserved much more than the lies she had been feeding him. Cliff Daniels’ aspiring girlfriends had to treat him with honesty. There were a lot of things Helena could give him. Honesty was not one of them.

She pondered her next move as her friend parked her red Honda outside a medium-sized, well-preserved building on 143rd street in Manhattan. Sadly though, her options were too limited. What she and Cliff had was not a relationship. It was a charade based on lies and deceit. Helena desired him; he was a fine man and a very thoughtful lover indeed; but, she couldn’t act anymore. It would be better for the both of them if she ended it tonight. She would stop having to lie to him all the time; it would give him a chance to meet someone else to be with; he could find someone who wouldn’t manipulate him the way she had.

“If I hadn’t known you any better, I’d say you’re a guy,” Kate’s comment snapped her out of her thoughts. “I mean, you lied to get him into bed?”

“Has a man ever gotten your knees shaking, just by looking at you?” Helena wondered, keeping her voice down, as she turned to her.

“Yeah; Dean,” Kate confessed with a smile. “When Monica introduced him to me, I said to myself: ‘Yum. Pin me up against a vertical surface and show me a good time, baby.’ You get that with Cliff?”

“It’s one of the reasons I wanted to stay away from him in the first place,” Helena spoke in an even lower voice, leaning her back against her seat. “I knew I’d find it really hard to resist him. Now, look at me. I went out with him: told him all kinds of crap about myself; he was so kind to me that he made me want him even more. By the time we went upstairs to his room, I couldn’t restrain myself anymore.”

“Normally, I’d have something nasty to say about that,” Kate whispered, reaching her right arm out to put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Now’s not the time, though. Take my advice. End it now, while you can. Go. Good luck.”

“Wait a minute. What if he’s not home yet?” Helena inquired, silently agreeing with her friend’s suggestion, as she grabbed the door handle. Kate parted her lips, but the rumble that resounded through the neighborhood at that moment forced her gaze away from her. By then, Helena had heard the sound of the diesel engine so many times that she could recognize it from a quarter mile away. The two of them ducked, as the SUV closed the distance between them. Its high beams lit up the interior of Kate’s car, just before the driver turned left and into the underground parking lot of the building. Helena opened the car door with steady fingers, understanding that she had to be quick. Fixing her gaze on the apartment building entry door, she started forward, as a shot of adrenaline rushed through her veins. Seconds before reaching the entrance, as she stared into the darkness of the hall, she closed her eyes, and held her breath. The echo of her boots was lingering in the ear, as she opened them again. Without any time to waste, she began jumping over the steps to the first floor. The view of a gray number “2” on the front door greeted her, as she hurtled up the stairs. A glance down at the tiny gap between it and the floor told her that she had gotten there first, as the lights in Cliff’s apartment were still out. A sense of relief washed over her. The last thing she wanted was to knock on his door. Helena turned her body to the left, and faced the railing as she breathed in pants. She sat down on the top landing, waiting to catch a glimpse of the elevator light, to the left of the door.

“I was wrong about coming off ‘needy’ and ‘desperate.’ It’s worse than that. Cliff’s going to think I’m crazy, showing up here in the middle of the night.”

The car stopped only seconds afterwards, but Helena did not consider getting up, fearing that she would spook him. A large arm emerged from the elevator, as its door was pushed open. Cliff pressed the light button on the hallway wall, as she raised her eyes to meet his.

“Holy crap!” he shouted, his voice echoing back from the walls of the building, his eyes wide in disbelief, as he stepped out of the empty car. “Helena? What are you doing here?”

“I’m still waiting for that phone call,” she managed to reply in a stiff tone, as she rose to her 5’6” height. “It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.”

“You drove one hundred and thirty miles to tell me that? How did you even get in here?” Cliff spoke, his baritone filled with confusion.

“That, too; one of the tenants had left the door open,” Helena uttered, nodding at the same time, as she noticed a large dossier in his right hand. “What have you been doing all day, Cliff? Is this how New Yorkers treat women? Because if it is…”

“I don’t know about other people,” he interrupted, putting some force in his voice. “I don’t do that. There’s a very good explanation for all this. Follow me. I don’t want to talk about it in the hallway.”

“Fair enough,” she murmured, as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. Another act had come to an end. Yes, the fact that he had failed to call her had not gone down well with her, but there was no way that she would go through all this trouble, just to express her annoyance. Cliff’s job was very demanding. He could have been too busy to call her, or was planning to do so, later that night. Still, even if he didn’t call her at all that day, it was a mistake she could forgive. Helena had met lesser men than him, men who were only interested in taking advantage of her. She could tell that Cliff wasn’t one of them.

“I got a phone call from my supervisor this morning,” he began, as they strolled into his living room. “He was mad at me and my team for not being able to come up with any solid clues. He gave us twenty-four hours to find a viable lead. If we failed, we were to return to New York. We interviewed quite a few locals, but still, no luck. We were talking to one, when my phone rang. I need your professional opinion on this.”

Upon finishing his sentence, Cliff flipped over the cover of his dossier, and then put it in front of Helena. However, nothing could have prepared her for its horrific contents. There were pictures of every single, charred body in the science facility. Close-ups, and also from a distance, they made her stomach churn. Among the photographs were a few frames of Tom Riker’s body. He was lying on his back. The blood from his skull had soaked the soil beneath him. But, as Cliff flipped through the rest of them, disgust turned into pure terror. The bite marks on the victims’ necks were quite visible, even though the fire had distorted them, both in shape and appearance.

“I was going to call you tonight, see if you wanted to grab a bite to eat, but the coroner’s phone call ruined my plans,” Cliff stated. “Two of those people bled out. They were bitten in the neck. The M.E. is unsure about the identity of the animals that did it. He says it’s either a wolf or a bear. You’ve studied these animals. You live in the countryside. Which one do you think it is?”

“It can’t be a wolf,” Helena shook her head sideways lightly, staring down at the puncture holes in the neck of one of the victims. “Wolves’ fangs are not long or wide enough to have inflicted this kind of damage. The same goes for black bears. I can’t think of anything else, other than a grizzly bear.”

“Is that normal grizzly bear behavior? Working together, going after humans in a closed environment?” Cliff asked her, a hint of suspicion in his tone.

“I’ve never heard of anything like this before. No, grizzlies are solitary. My guess is a few of them converged here, and just tolerated one another, because there was a lot of food available. They do that in the wild. I don’t know what those scientists were working on, but something lured them in. They followed their noses. The people just got in the way. Their bodies were whole. This goes to show they weren’t the targets,” Helena responded, pursing her lips. “Please, take these away. I think I’m going to throw up.”

“So, my brother died for coming between a bear and its food.” Cliff’s voice reeked with a mix of frustration and sarcasm, as he shut the dossier.

“A charging grizzly can scare the life out of anybody,” Helena sighed, lifting her gaze up to his. “They’re the largest of the land predators. Huge canines, unbelievable strength…”

“I can understand that,” he responded in as calm a tone as he could muster while he tossed the dossier down across his couch. “It’s a wild theory, but it makes sense, kind of. Can I trust you?”

“Yes, of course,” the words came out of Helena’s mouth, before she even allowed herself enough time to think about his question. “Isn’t it what you just did with all those crime scene photos?”

“Yeah, but that was personal. I needed to know about my brother. What I’m about to say has nothing to do with Jonathan,” Cliff explained, the intensity in his voice vanishing more and more by the second. “Tom Riker bled out, too. He had a big, gaping wound in his skull. At first, the coroner thought he’d fallen off the roof, but then, he said gravity alone wasn’t enough to cause this kind of damage. It wouldn’t have been possible, even if the ground was made out of cement. He also had eight shattered ribs, and a fractured cheekbone. Correct me if I’m wrong, but, this doesn’t sound like a bear attack, does it?”

“No,” she uttered, cold sweat washing over her, as she realized what he was getting at. “Bears usually swipe their paws to knock their victims out. They go for the neck, as soon as they can.”

“What in the hell could have done this to a 6 feet tall man weighing 180 pounds?” Cliff wondered, his voice dropping to a whisper, as he tipped his head up to peer ceiling-ward. “The coroner told me it’s like he was tossed up against the wall. It would take at least three grown men to do that to him.”

“I really don’t know what could have done that to him. Frankly: I’m a little tired to start speculating,” Helena asserted, managing to keep her concern out of her tone. “I did come here to complain to you for ignoring me, but, on my way over, I realized how hard it would be for us to keep seeing each other.”

“I know,” he gave a sad nod, his face hardening, as he leaned towards her. “In fact, it’s all I’ve been thinking about since our date. But, I don’t care. I really like you, Ms. Lockhart. You’re the kindest, classiest woman I’ve ever met. And I’ll be damned if I let you go, because you happen to live two-and-a-half hours away from me.”

“I like you, too,” Helena admitted with a whisper, feeling her knees trembling, as she gazed into the greenness of his eyes. “I’ve never known a nobler man than you. But, what choice do we have? You’re in New York tonight, but you could be sent out to Vermont tomorrow. That doesn’t leave much room for a personal life. I’m really sorry, Cliff. We can’t.”

She waited for some kind of response, with bated breath. Yet, her short speech was met by silence. A long, deep sigh escaped him, as he slowly lifted his hands up to her neck. Cliff tangled his fingers into her red, silky strands, his gaze still fixed on hers. He pushed some of her tendrils back, as he leaned in. Helena closed her eyes, eagerly anticipating feeling the intoxicating kiss of the only man who had moved her in such a long time. His last kiss… his lips brushed hers, as she sensed the delicate touch of his thumbs on the sides of her neck. The tenderness on her mouth sent her senses reeling, as he gently pulled her closer to him. Once again, her temptation was sweeping her off her feet, making her heart race in her chest, as waves of emotion poured into her veins. Second by second, the magic in his kiss pulled her into his world: a world of color, feeling, and truth. The one thing she could not offer him was abundant in his affection, as he cradled her neck in his hands. Alas, the facts that she was forced to hide from him shattered her heart. A tidal wave of guilt swept over her, as she recalled the real reason behind her decision. Lost in his embrace, she felt tears rising up in her eyes. Helena couldn’t savor this. She thought that her lips were like daggers, driven into his heart, the gentle heart that had brought all this joy into her life.

“Stop…” she helplessly whispered, her lips shaking, her eyes still closed, as if she was clinging to the moment.

“Goodbye, Ms. Lockhart,” he said quietly as he exhaled, tentatively brushing his mouth on her chin as he trailed his thumbs across her jawline. “Thank you for being there for me.”

Helena’s eyes snapped open, as his last sentence rang in her ears. She couldn’t believe him. Even now, he had shown her his nature. He had expressed gratitude, even though she had rejected him. Before she could offer him a rebuttal, the moisture that his irises were swimming in gripped her heart in a powerful vice. Her eyes were not cheated by any spell. Cliff was actually on the verge of tears: for her. Helena parted her lips, but the only thing that came out of her mouth, was her faint breath. As much as she would have liked to speak to him, she could not work up the courage to do so. She tilted her head down, taking her eyes off of him, as she drowned in her shame. The witch turned left, as the urge to tell him the truth festered within her. Helena squeezed two tears out of her eyes, as she shuffled off towards his front door. The pounding in her chest subsided, as she put distance between them. She was dying for one more glance: maybe one more word; just one last kiss. Deep down, however, Helena knew that, should she turn back, the kindness in his eyes, the one she was forced to give up, would compel her to reveal everything to him. Therefore, she continued walking away, down the staircase, feeling her tears roll down her cheeks.

With a heavy heart, she exited the building. The notion that she would have to narrate what had transpired to Kate added to the frustration and the sorrow that had been gnawing away at her. Still, as she found herself in the passenger seat, silence lingered in the air. Helena turned to face her friend, swallowing hard, as one more tear raced down her face.

“My God…” Kate whispered, reaching out her arms, as she leaned in towards her. “I can’t believe what you just did,” she went on, taking Helena in a warm, tight embrace.

“I had to, Kate,” Helena sniffled, wrapping her right arm around her friend’s back. “He deserves better than me.”

“He can’t find better than you,” Kate emphasized, bringing a bitter smile to Helena’s face, as she eased back. “What did you say to him?”

“Some nonsense about distance,” Helena snorted in derision. “I lied to him again, right after we talked about the case. He’s found some…”

“Don’t,” Kate interrupted, raising her voice. “I just want to know one thing: do they have anything solid against us?”

“No,” Helena sighed, wiping her tears off her face. “They have some…” she paused. “Inexplicable causes of death: some bite marks; but that’s it. They don’t have any evidence against me or the boys.”

“Great,” Kate said with an appreciative nod. “You should get a statue for this, sweetheart. I doubt even that would be enough,” she added, as she turned the key in the ignition.

Helena didn’t dignify her friend’s compliment with a comment of her own. Discussing her last moments with Cliff would only make her feel worse. Inevitably, she would recall her deception, and the great number of lies she had said to him. Helena had turned into something she had despised throughout her long life: a fake. She could find comfort in her noble motives, but the fact remained that the witch of Paxton had ensnared an unsuspecting FBI agent, and misled him in every way she could. Now, she had to live with the guilt that burdened her heart and mind in the hope that time would make her actions fade from memory.