James Daniels - Ring of Knives

Darkness.

Matt blinked painfully.

Drew a breath.

Tried to put his hands on his face-and couldn’t.

Opened his eyes against the fluorescent glare.

He was in a white room, strapped to a white bed.

Only it wasn’t a bed. But it did have a pillow.

And straps.

Five straps, to be exact. Two pinned his ankles, two pinned his wrists, and one was wrapped around his waist. Next to the thing he was on was a large steel console on rollers. It was covered in dials and switches. Behind it was a woman.

“Well, well,” growled the short, toad-faced wreck. “Looks like Lover Boy’s joined the land of the living-just in time to leave it.”

“Hirotachi,” he croaked. His throat was dry. Head ached. Had he ever been this thirsty before? Impossible. “Where is…” He tried to remember her name. Then he had it: Annica.

Toad-Face grinned. “Your little girlfriend? She’s out back, all set for the show.”

“Show?”

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry, you won’t miss it. But since it’s not the witching hour yet, and since you seem to have some seriously antisocial tendencies, we thought we’d give you a little treatment- on the house. Maloria? Let’s get this show on the road.”

Matt stared in disbelief as the fat lady he’d spent the afternoon with waddled up to the console and-avoiding all eye contact-picked up a handful of red and yellow wires and a roll of tape. Her lips were clamped in a tight line as she walked to the side of the bed, squeezed some gel out of a bottle with a farting sound, and spread it on his head.

“Maloria?!” he said.

She just kept spreading the gel. It was cold and slick.

“Maloria, what are you doing? Maloria?!”

“Save your strength,” Hirotachi chuckled. “She’s a little more obedient when the night shift’s on duty. Aren’tcha, Fatty?”

No answer. Maloria’s big eyes had narrowed to slits, and her lower lip covered her upper as she attached the wires to his forehead with duct tape. She backed away quickly.

Matt looked back to Hirotachi. “Whatever you think you’re-“

The words died in his throat, along with every thought in his head, as a current of electricity shot through his body, making his back arch and his teeth snap together.

It ended. He collapsed back against the table with a gasp.

“Well, whaddaya know?” Hirotachi said, patting the console. “It still works! This is an old, old system. We’ve got a newer one, but it’s pretty painless. I like the vintage systems myself. Reminds me of the old days, you know? Gives me a real”-again she flipped a switch-“charge.”

More juice this time: held cruciform, he lunged upward, going nowhere, teeth clamped, fingernails digging into his palms, vision shot with fire in alternating patterns of RED BLACK RED BLACK RED BLACK RED BLACK

A cool, wet breeze.

The smell of lotus.

And the light: soft and forgiving, the kind that falls from a sickle moon in spring.

Beneath his feet, the creak of the wooden bridge that spanned the pond at its narrowest point. The stars above the water were reflected in its shallow depths, and between their reflections were pale water lilies and hyacinth, whose fragrance made the air lush and thick with promise.

He was standing next to his wife, Janey. They stood on the bridge, watching the moonlight make a path of light on the water. Nearby, he could hear the sounds of the band playing at Janey’s sister’s wedding. The party had been going for two hours when he’d realized that he’d lost track of his wife in the crowds of sweating, laughing, drinking relatives, and on an impulse he’d walked to their favorite spot, guessing that she might have wanted to get away for a few minutes. He’d guessed right.

“Hey, you,” he said, running his hand along her bare back. She was wearing a beautiful backless green silk number that had cost a fortune. It’d been worth every penny when he saw her standing next to her sister at the altar, hair up, eyes wet with emotion, looking so radiant and alive.

She let out a murmur at his touch and leaned into him. He moved his hand up to the base of her neck and inhaled the soap-and-sandalwood scent of her auburn hair. He loved her scent.

“I just needed to get away for a bit. Get some fresh air.”

“Me, too.”

“I saw that my uncle Robin cornered you by the punchbowl. Please tell me he didn’t…?”

“Try to drag me into that goofy pyramid scheme he’s got, the one with the tax referrals? Oh yes.”

She squeezed his hand and groaned. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“No prob. Although I did have to drag your aunt Myrna onto the dance floor just to get away from him.”

“I bet she was thrilled.”

“Certainly was. Especially when we realized that the song was ‘Sexual Healing.’”

Laughing. “Oh my God. You’ve got to be kidding.”

He held up a hand, laughing, too. “Cross my heart and hope to…” He didn’t finish the phrase.

Her smile trembled, and her eyes got a bit brighter. She turned back to the moonlight on the water. “I’m so glad my sister finally found someone. Someone worthy of her.”

“Me, too.”

She leaned back, pressed her head against his collarbone. “It makes such a difference, to be with someone who’s right for you. Who’ll stand by you when things…when things get…”

Her shoulders started to shake.

He gently took her in his arms and turned her to face him. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Hey. Look at me.”

She did, a tear streak below each eye. The moon illuminated those, too.

“You and I are going to beat this thing,” he said, and she nodded. “We’re gonna be toasting your sister on her fortieth anniversary!” She nodded again, fiercely, but still not meeting his eyes. “You don’t have my permission to bail, do you understand? Not with your aunt Myrna waiting in the wings.”

At this she laughed-a big laugh, full of relief. She stood on tiptoe, put her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too,” he said. He ran his hands up her waist, feeling the green silk slide between his fingers. His hands traveled over her ribs, to the swell of her small, firm breasts. She let him.

Her arms tightened around his neck, and he leaned down so that she could press her forehead against his. “What are we going to do?” she said in a frightened whisper.

“You’ve got the surgery next Tuesday. After that, your only job is to get better.”

“But what if…what if the MRI shows that it’s in my bones?”

“Shhh. No use borrowing trouble.” The phrase was old-fashioned, was his mother’s, but it did its job, and she relaxed a little.

“I know. I’m such a freak. I’m just wound up so tight.”

“No kidding. So what can we do about that?” His hand drifted carefully down her abdomen and gently played across the cleft between her legs. It would work, or it wouldn’t.

She made a soft sound, and after just a moment, imperceptibly parted her legs. He took it for an invitation and made the most of it. He could feel the heat of her through the silk.

A moment later, her breathing became raw. “If you don’t stop, you’re going to spoil my nice new dress.”

“There is a third option,” he said, quickly taking hold of the green silk hem and lifting it. When he slipped his hand beneath, he found a surprise waiting for him.

“Oh, my God,” he said. “You went commando to your sister’s wedding?”

She bit her lip and widened her eyes flirtatiously. “Couldn’t help it. Forgive me?”

“Only if you forgive me for this.” He gently pushed her back against the bridge railing and sank to his knees in front of her.