Page 2 of Nocturnal Flame

I gritted my teeth and tore my eyes away from her, focusing on the man on the bed, coming close to tears at the sight of his frail body. He looked so gaunt, almost lifeless. Gone was the strong, robust man I’d known and loved my whole life. In his place was a stranger I barely recognized, and regret hit me in the gut.

“Nick, my boy, you came.” His eyes smiled at me the way they always have. Then he turned to look at her seated in the chair next to his bed. “Why don’t you go down to the cafeteria and get some coffee, dear? And maybe a sandwich or something to go with it.” She didn’t speak, just nodded her head as she stood from the chair and left the room.

I walked over to stand over him, taking the hand he held out to me. “Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?” He just shook his head sadly. “Were you really so hurt by my words that you couldn’t…?” He shook his head and clasped my hand firmly.

“No, my boy. I didn't come after you because I thought we had time. I forgot who I was dealing with; now, there’s not much time left. I need you to look after Ellie when I’m gone.

“Gramps.” Why would he ask me this knowing how much I despise her ilk?

“Son, things aren't always what they seem, do this for me. It’s my final wish.”

“Gramps, grandpa, NURSE.” My heart raced sickeningly in my chest as his lifeless fingers slipped from my hand. I was vaguely aware of movement around me and sounds; everything became a blur as my mind struggled to make sense of what was happening.

I turned to see her, Ellie, standing in the doorway with an odd light around her and the saddest look on her face. For a split second, I had the urge to reach out to her, to comfort her, but as soon as it came, it left. We don’t have that kind of relationship. My eyes went back to the bed where the doctor was calling the time of death.

NICK

Everything after the hospital was a blur of activity. I felt detached, as if I were just going through the motions to get things done. I don’t remember eating, or sleeping, or any of the usual things one does from my day to day. All that seemed to linger was her presence. I was very aware of her in the house, milling around the guests at the funeral parlor and just being there.

At times her presence was a welcomed balm, and at others, like now, I wanted her far away from me. “She’s not family; why does she need to be here?” The attorney didn’t seem too taken aback by my outburst. Maybe gramps had forewarned him about my deep hatred for this…

“It was your grandfather’s wish that she be here for the reading of his will.” If he left her so much as a penny, I’d spend millions to take it from her. Yes, that’s how much I hate her; I hate anyone who preys on the old or the weak. ‘But there’s another reason you feel so strongly about her, isn’t there?’

Not now, gramps. I’ve been hearing the old man in my head since the day he died. Not like a memory, but more like he’s actually here beside me, talking to me the way he used to. It’s spooky sure, but I figure this is what happens after death for everyone. The bond the old man and I shared in life was too strong, I guess, to be changed by death.

At least it used to be, until the great fallout over a year ago, all because of her. I let my eyes flick over her as she sat quiet as a lamb in the chair next to me. Sometimes she seems almost afraid to be in the same room as me and others; she seems ready to spit nails whenever I say a cross word to her, which I have been doing more of late since the old man passed.

I know in movies people carry out someone’s dying wish even against their own conscience, but not me. I love gramps more than life, but the thought of being close, of showing any form of kindness to this succubus, enrages me. He could’ve asked for anything else in the world, and I would’ve gladly given it, but why did she have to be his last thought. And why was the last thing he said to me about her as well?

The lawyer cleared his throat, reminding me that I’d been sitting there glaring at the side of her head for the last few minutes while he waited. “Well, let’s move on, shall we?” I took a deep breath and willed myself to remain calm. ‘I hereby leave all my earthly possessions to my grandson Nick without proviso. My one true wish, though, is that he’d carry out my appeal and care for Ellie Simmons, the young lady who brought me so much joy in my last days. If he cannot fulfill this wish, I only ask that he gives her three months to find a new home.’


Tags: Jordan Silver Paranormal