The Crimson Z
Robert Cloud
Lee Rush
Richard Savage
Abby Blythe
Kara Elsberry
ISBN 0-9774682-8-3

Collection Paranormal
Stories
688 paperback pages
Multi-format ebook $6.99
Paperback $29.99
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The Crimson Z has it all, contemporary, historical, sweet, sexy, erotic.

The Crimson Z Includes:

Love of a Pendant's Heart
A Short Novella
by Lee Rush

The Anniversary
A Short Novella
By Richard Savage

Incorrigible
A Novella
by Abby Blythe

On The Wings of a Dream
A Novelette
by Kara Elsberry

The Blood Ritual of the Crimson Z
A Novel
by Robert Cloud

The Awakening
A Long Novella
by Robert Cloud

Chapter One
The Harbinger

Standing atop of a ladder that was perched precariously
against the outside awning of the old, brick building
Zachariah's hands struggled with the last knot of the banner
that proudly announced that the Grand Opening of The
Crimson Z would be on October 31st. The arthritis in his
gnarled and tired knuckles made it the most difficult knot to
tie. His hands already ached from the work they had done in
getting ready for the opening of the new location of his
jewelry shop.

It had been a tradition for generations that whenever the
shop moved that the new opening would occur on Halloween.
He did not intend to change that tradition even if his tired
aching bones were screaming from exertion they were not
used to. At his age he should be home enjoying his
retirement years but the life and craft of a jeweler was all he
knew and was all he had. He knew if he stopped working he
would waste away to nothing.

Halloween was still a week away and if he was going to be
ready to open the doors on that day there was still a lot for
his old body to accomplish in those seven days. He would be
done in time but only barely. How he wished for the days
when his body was younger and did not hurt all the time.

Hell, he was so old that even he did not know his age. At his
last visit to the doctor's office the doctor had said he was in
great health for a man approaching a hundred. Was he a
hundred years old? It seemed like he was much older than
that. He could remember things that would be impossible for
him to remember if he were only one hundred, but maybe
they were the memories of his own father or grandfather that
had crawled into his mind and took residence as if they were
his own.

He looked down the rungs of the ladder. His knees
trembled as he began to lift his foot to step down. He
tightened his grip upon the rung for he was not certain that
the aching joints in his knees would allow him to climb down
again. With pain flaring in his arthritic hands he held tight as
he raised his foot to take that first step. Just then a sudden
shadow loomed down and passed over him. It was larger than
a bus yet looked like a giant bird. He wiped his eyes with the
back of his hand, they had to have played tricks on him for its
neck had extended forward of its body much farther than any
bird he had ever seen and its tail looked more like the tail of a
serpent but the tail ended in a barbed spike. Its wings were
so wide that the tips were hidden by the shadows of the
buildings upon each side of the street.

He watched as it disappeared and then closed his eyes
thinking it had to have been his imagination. When he opened
them he saw the shadow returning toward him and as it
passed over him the wings of the shadow came together as if
to lift the great beast into the sky. A sudden downdraft of
wind hit the old man hard and he had to fight to keep from
being knocked off the ladder. His eyes watched the shadow as
it began to get smaller. Quickly the old man turned his head
sending a sudden blinding streak of pain into his neck but his
gaze caught nothing in the sky that could have made such a
shadow. There was but one lone plane and it was too high in
the sky and to the wrong side of the sun to have cast any
shadow at all. Even if it had been in the right location to cast
the shadow it would not have explained the sudden gust of
wind.

The old man shook uncontrollably for a moment as his
hand rubbed the aching hump at the base of his neck. Slowly
he righted himself and tried to think rationally. He was not a
child. What did he think he had seen? A dragon?

A memory returned to him of a long time past when he
and some of his friends would be taken by such flights of
fancy. They would dash off into the fields of their fathers and
protect the flocks of sheep from dragons and other monsters.
They would wave branches about like swords to ward off the
predators of the skies. No dragons, giants or other beasts
would lay one hand or claw upon any of the wooly flock of
their fathers, but that was when he was a child of seven or
eight. He rubbed his temples and then his forehead as he
tried to remember, how long ago was that? He could not
recall.

Once again he looked down the rungs of the ladder and
with his knees still trembling both from his age and from the
rush of adrenalin caused by nearly falling he began to
descend yet he had only taken two steps down when again he
was interrupted. Age had taken many things from him but
one thing that it had left him was his hearing. That sense was
startlingly acute even for a young man. Not one sound got
past the old man's ears. He even knew exactly how many
mice had taken up residence in his apartment above the store
and he left them little crumbs of food as they were his only
friends.

He heard the sound of wheels skating upon the rough
concrete of the sidewalk. He looked up to see a young child of
maybe seven streaking along upon a pair of those things that
he thought he had heard a young man call roller blades. The
skater was pretty good for someone so young. The long hair
streaming from beneath the child's helmet led him to believe
the skater was a girl but he had been fooled more than once,
yet the grace of the skater reinforced his conviction that the
child was indeed a girl.

In this small village of Hudson Falls there were not many
people on the sidewalk at this time of day and the skater
skirted around the few that were there like it was more a
dance for her than a mode of transportation. The old man's
eyes grew wide as he saw the door of the Rexall Drug Store
open. The skater was too busy skating around the cluster of
people standing in front of the used furniture store and did
not see the glass door. It was directly in her path and the old
man started to call out to warn her but his aged lungs could
no longer hold the breath of his more robust years and his
voice did not carry loud enough for her to hear. At the last
moment the skater made a sudden and quick move to dart
around the door. The skates screamed as they flew out from
under her and the girl's face slammed into the open door as
her knees and hands scraped against the rough concrete like
cheese on a grater.

He continued to descend the ladder carefully. He wanted to
rush faster so he could aid the little girl but he worried if he
tried to move too fast that it would be himself in need of an
ambulance therefore he went slowly. Still his eyes never left
the girl or the door.

He watched as the person whose arm had been holding the
door when the child had hit it darted out and knelt beside the
crying child. The young lady, who could not yet be out of her
teens, set her packages down and began rummaging through
her purse. She pulled out a handkerchief and what looked like
a wet wipe of some kind. By the time he was again standing
on firm ground he could see that the young lady had the
situation well under control. The young woman helped the girl
to her feet and wiped the last of the tears away with another
of her wet wipes and then the girl began to skate away. As
she neared the only scratches his eyes caught upon her were
a couple of small ones upon her lower shins. They were
nothing that would mar what turned out to be a lovely little
girl. He smiled at her as she neared but she did not see him
instead she turned and waved to the young woman that had
helped her and then darted past him with the grace of a
dancer. He had been nothing in her life but an insignificant
obstacle upon her journey.

The resiliency of the young had always amazed him. She
had rebounded so quickly it was as if nothing had happened
and he could hear the chiming of her laughter as she rounded
the corner just beyond him.

His ancient bones creaked and complained as he turned
back to look at the young lady who had caused the accident.
Of the two she was the one that seemed to have had the
worst of it though he could see no sign of any physical injury.

It amazed him that even from a distance of nearly half a
block he could make out the wet trails that the tears had left
on her cheeks. Her green eyes glistened with more tears that
were readying to fall as she paused and placed her face into
her hands and wept in silence. He queried himself, how was it
possible to see the color of her eyes from that distance, hell
he could even read the small lettering on the packages that
lay on the ground at her feet. Surely someone his age should
be almost blind. Instead he could see things he should only
be able to see if he were looking through binoculars or a
telescope.

The young woman knelt to pick up her two small bags.
While she gathered her items she stopped and continued to
cry a moment longer, holding her handkerchief to her eyes to
hide the tears. Two older boys walked by her one pushed at
the other laughing and nearly knocking his buddy into her,
yet neither of them seemed to even notice she was there. He
grumbled under his breath at the disrespect that young
people of this era had. In his day a gentleman helped a lady
in distress even if only for a moment or two. He just could not
fathom the indifference of young men. It was not even a
matter of being a gentleman anymore but just common
courtesy, and it definitely was not that the young lady was
unattractive. She did not dress to show off the beauty that lay
within her but he could feel the stirrings within him that made
him wish he was young again.

Slowly she stood and began walking in his direction, her
right hand darting up and trying to wipe the tears away from
her eyes. As she neared him he was struck at how much she
reminded him of someone but he could not place who. Yet his
heart began to pick up its pace and suddenly shyness
overcame him. He felt as if he were a young lad about to ask
the most beautiful girl in town for a date. His heart leapt into
his throat as he thought she was going to pass him by but
suddenly she paused. He began to dance back and forth upon
his feet like an anxious young child desperate to see Santa.

He could not understand what was wrong with him. He hadn't
felt like this about anyone since the passing of his wife many
years ago and this was only a little girl. Why was he acting as
if this was the most important moment in his entire life?

Slowly she turned her eyes upward and she looked up at
his sign and then back to him and said, "Mister, your sign is
up backwards."

He gazed up, stared at the sign a moment, then laughed,
and while still looking at the sign said, "Well my bones can't
handle another trip up that ladder today. I will have to fix it
tomorrow."

"I don't mind fixing it for you, Sir," the young lady said in
such a sweet voice that he could feel his heart melting.

"But ... but ... you are wearing a dress?"

"Not a problem," she said. She sat her packages down and
unhooked the strap from her purse. She took one end of the
strap and attached it to her belt behind her back and passed
it between her legs and then fastened it to her belt in the
front. The belt pulled the hem of her dress up and closed the
opening making a type of pants.

He watched her ingenuity stunned. She must have seen
the look upon his face for she quickly explained, "I always
wear dresses and at school I often help decorate so I have
learned a few tricks to keep the boys from looking up my
skirts."

He did not have time to say a word before she darted up
the ladder and within no time she had the sign righted and
was back down and had her purse reassembled. He smiled at
her and thanked her profusely.

A gust of wind caught her hair and tossed it across her
face. She flipped her head to get the hair out of her eyes. The
wind however carried with it the still lingering scent of her
tears as well as a light dusting of perfume. The fingers of the
past wrapped around him reminding him of something from
his childhood, a scent that his mother wore, a flower, but he
could not place it. He suddenly felt an even stronger need to
at least talk to this young lady for a little while. At the rate his
heart was responding to her there was little doubt in his mind
that if she wanted it he would offer her any piece of jewelry in
his store for just a few moments to stare at her lovely smile.
His late wife would have called him a foolish old man but he
still felt like a young man in his old body.

She smiled at him and though she seemed to be happy he
could sense that there was an incredible sadness within her
that was far deeper than what could be explained by what
had happened down the street. Again he was not certain how
he knew that, but there was no doubt in his mind that this
young woman was troubled. She lifted her hand as if to wave
and he could sense she was about to say she had better get
going.

The thoughts that went through his head then passed
within a flash. He knew that she was a very special young
lady. The very fact that he could feel her inner emotions
without her saying a single word told him that there was
something within her that was calling out to him. Then the
shadow of the old drake passing overhead loomed in his mind
and another memory of his past shot out of the darkness. The
harbinger of an omen. Maybe it was more than his
imagination. He felt deeply that he had to help this young
lady in some way, he was not yet certain what she needed or
how he would help but he knew he had no choice.

Before she had the chance to say anything he spoke,
"Would you care to come inside and sit for a bit? I saw what
happened down the street and you seem to be quite shaken
by it. Besides, I at least owe you a drink for helping me with
the sign."

She nodded and he opened the door as a gentleman
should and allowed her to precede him into the
establishment. The young woman stepped inside and paused
just inside the door. As he stepped in behind her he could see
her looking about at all the display cases. They were empty
and the place looked barren but the old building had a charm
of its own.

He flipped the light switch just inside the door and the
overhead lights illuminated the place casting out the shadows
and then the tension in the young woman seemed to
evaporate. He suddenly realized that she was the first person,
other than himself, to enter The Crimson Z since he had
decided to relocate there, "Welcome to The Crimson Z," he
announced.

The young woman laughed and said, "For all there is to it."
Then she added, "Will you be ready to open in time for
your Grand Opening?"

"I am old but I believe I can make it in time," he said, as
he walked toward the back of the store to go to the little
kitchen area. "Would you like a soda, or something else?" He
hollered back and asked.

"Do you have any bottled water?" she asked.

"Yes, I have some from Saratoga Springs. I kind of like it,
it has a sweet taste."

"That is good, I prefer things without additives," she
responded.

He brought back out two of the bottles. As he passed by a
mirror on the wall it began to rattle and he whispered to it,
"Not now Lilith, it is not time."

"Excuse me, Sir. What did you say?" she asked.

"I just said to myself 'Be still, Silly it is not your time.' It
was nothing"

The girl looked at him quizzically so he tried to come up
with a reasonable explanation. He hated to lie, he always had
but he did not know how to explain the rattling mirror and
Lilith to the young woman. Maybe he would in time if she
stuck around, but if he tried now she would be out that door
and running down the street in a matter of seconds. "You are
such an attractive young lady and my heart was racing just
thinking of being alone in this dark store with you. But as you
see I am an arthritic old man and you are in no danger."

He felt ashamed for he had actually told her two lies.
Outside he had felt old and arthritic but once he had stepped
through the doors and into the realm of The Crimson Z it was
as if half his years had melted away from him. He no longer
hurt and his hands and bones were in nearly perfect shape
again.

The young girl giggled and smiled brightly as she blushed,
"Thank you, I am not so pretty, but I already knew I was safe
with you. I could see it in your eyes. I get feelings about
people, and you have a very good heart."

He handed the young woman her bottle of water and then
opened his own. He laughed to himself thinking when bottled
water had first come out he had sworn he would never spend
even a single penny on the stuff and now it was about the
only thing he drank. He did have a couple cans of soda in the
refrigerator for guests but he never touched it. The young
woman began to lean over the counter and look for
something. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was looking for a trash can for this wet wipe. I could not
throw it on the street. I just do not like to litter, besides,
people are funny about things covered with blood."

He held out his hand, "Hand it to me, the main trash can is
in the back. I am still setting up shop so do not have anything
really ready yet. Other than the treasures display case over
against that wall nothing has been set up."

She dropped the wet wipe in his hand and then turned her
gaze in the direction he had pointed. She could feel her eyes
growing big as she looked upon the deep red of the rich
mahogany case. She was not a good judge of height but it
nearly reached to the ceiling so she guessed it stood nearly
eight feet tall and was at least six feet wide. The front was
divided into three panels. The lower one foot stretched the
full width of the cabinet and then the upper portion was
divided into what looked like two doors. Across the top was a
decorative scrolling that had the phases of the moon carved
into the scroll work.

However the most striking feature was a deep intricate
carving across the faces of the two doors. It appeared to be a
tree, but one that was bent to form a very stylistic shape that
resembled the letter Z. The roots were twisted and gnarled
from the right across the bottom to the left and became the
base of the trunk of the tree but they were more than that for
they also looked like they were the feet of a startlingly
beautiful but completely naked woman. She leaned to the
right, her legs crossed slightly, she was naked and it actually
caused the young woman to feel herself blush as she looked
at how sensual the woman was, yet she was still the trunk of
a tree.

One of the tree woman's arms crooked above her head
and her hair became the branches which intertwined
across the two doors. Down at the base one of the tap roots
descended and connected to a circle that surrounded the
entire work. Connected to the circle at twelve equidistant
points were characters that she recognized from the Hebrew
alphabet.

The young woman had never imagined anything like this in
her life. The entire cabinet was the most strikingly beautiful
piece of furniture she had ever seen. She could not even
begin to imagine what kind of treasures it might hold within
that he would defer to them and not to the cabinet itself as so
valuable.

The old man turned and left the room as she began to
walk over to the case. When she got closer she noticed that
the engraving that formed the pattern was more than simply
a deeply carved line. There were raised portions within the
lines so she inspected them even closer. In the poor light it
was hard to tell but it looked like there were some strange
characters carved within the lines.

"Yes, the case is a beauty." She nearly jumped out of her
skin as she had not heard the old man approach and he was
less than a foot behind her. She turned and stepped away a
bit, smiling at him. She did not feel frightened of him it was
just that she was not used to having people get that close to
her without her noticing them. He continued, "It is a copy of
the original that was made when the original store was open."
The old man laughed and placed a key into a hidden spot
at the bottom of the doors, "Don't go asking me how long ago
that was because I have no idea. It has been in my family for
many generations." Then he sighed, a deep, heavy sigh and
added, "It looks like it will pass into the hands of my great great
nephew though for I have no son to pass my trade on
to."

With a twist of the key the two great doors swung open
almost magically. The backs of both doors and the interior
behind them were lined with red velvet. Sliding glass doors
further divided the case and protected the pieces of jewelry
within.

She stared in awe at the hundreds of pieces adorning the
shelves. There were rings, bracelets, necklaces, pendants,
cameos, and many more items and each one looked as if it
were crafted with a care and artistry beyond anything she had
ever seen or even imagined. She had seen exceptional
jewelry before. Her mother wore very expensive pieces but
what was in this cabinet was far beyond anything she had
seen even in museums. The craftsmen that had made these
pieces of jewelry were true masters and she had no doubt
that she was looking at the finest works that had ever been
created.

Her gaze was caught by an exquisite golden ring, like two
coiled serpents, that held the very first place within the
cabinet. Her eyes were drawn down to a pendent that looked
so delicate that she was sure it would crumble beneath the
touch of a feather. All the upper shelves were mostly full but
once in a while there would be a blank space as if a piece was
missing from the collection. She continued with amazement
through the various pieces, a set of pendants all alike except
for a size variance, a bracelet of gold and lapis which were
one of her favorite gemstones. All the pieces were of gold,
some had silver in them some had gemstones others did not.
Finally her gaze lit upon the bottom shelves and she
noticed that they were empty like they were waiting for new
pieces that had yet to be made.

She started to turn wanting to ask him about the blank
places in the collection but before she said a word he was
answering as if he had read her mind. "The blank places are
for pieces that have been sold. In time it seems that all the
pieces that are marked with the jeweler's mark of The
Crimson Z find their way back to this shop so it has been a
tradition to leave the spots open."

She could feel her own eyes widen at the thought that
somehow the pieces always returned. Could that mean that
they were somehow magical? She imagined them being
woven with some special enchantment that enveloped the
person that bought them and then when the person was no
longer in need of the magic the piece would mysteriously find
its way back into the hands of the owner of The Crimson Z.
She turned and looked at the empty places amongst the
jewelry and wondered what wonders those pieces were
weaving in the lives of the people that possessed them.

Her gaze drifted amongst the variety of rings, chains,
charms, earrings, and other jewels that had every size and
type of gemstone imaginable. Slowly she turned towards him
and smiled broadly. "Did you make all of these?"

He laughed, "Sometimes I feel like I did. They mean so
much to me. But that ring of coiled serpents up in that corner
is several hundred years old. Do you think I could have made
it?" He smiled at her and raised an eyebrow, "Surely you do
not think I am that old?"

She smiled, "Well, I guess not. You are old, but not quite
that old." She smiled teasingly and added, "At least I do not
think so."

The old man wiggled his eyebrows and she realized he had
seen through her tease. She giggled. There was something
about the old man that made her feel very warm and safe. If
she had had a grandfather she would have hoped he would
have been a man like this man. She held out her hand, "My
name is Melanie it is nice to meet you." Then as an after
thought, something she thought a gentleman of his era might
like, she curtsied.

The old man's face brightened, "My, that is something I
have not seen in a very long time. I did not know anyone
even knew how to do that anymore."

Melanie laughed and said, "I saw it in an old movie once. I
thought it was sweet so I practiced it. I never thought I would
do it. Yet, you seemed like someone that would appreciate it,
and it felt right."

He took her hand, kissed it and then bowed to her, "Why
thank you, Miss Melanie, it was indeed a pleasure."

She giggled shyly, the kiss was a little more than she had
anticipated and her heart raced. Why would an old man
kissing her hand cause her heart to race? And make her feel
giddy?

The old man added, "Most people call me Zach. My last
name is Zachariah and it is where the Z in The Crimson Z
comes from."

Melanie giggled again, everything seemed so formal. Yet
she felt it was somehow more. Her own heart was telling her
she needed it to be more. She did not know why, but she felt
comfortable around this man. It frightened her a little, that it
was the first time she had ever met him and she was having
such deep emotions but all her life she'd had feelings about
things and they had never steered her wrong. She knew that
she would be safe with this man and she knew that he was
going to play a major role in her life.

She smiled at him and said, "It has been a true pleasure to
meet you, Zach ... um, Mr. Zachariah." She lowered her gaze
to the floor and thought. It did not feel right calling him by
the name Zach as everyone else did. That just did not show
him enough respect and yet calling him Mr. Zachariah seemed
too formal, almost like it was distancing him from her and she
did not want that.

There were no adults in her life that she was close to other
than a couple of teachers, and even more disturbing to her
was that there were no male figures in her life at all. She did
not hang around the boys her age because she could tell all
they wanted from her was to get under her dress. They did
not care that she had a mind and a heart. They were too
worried about their own hormones, and what conquests they
could brag about to the other boys.

Something about this man told her she would be safe.

Even if he saw her as a sexual being he would not pursue it.
She raised her head and looked at him, she could tell from
the look on his face that the look on her own face had caused
him to worry, "Excuse me, Sir. It just does not seem right me
calling you Zach, and I know it is proper to call you Mr.
Zachariah however I am worried that that would send you a
message that I want to be distant from you, and I do not.
"I would like to be your friend. I would like to come and
visit and talk with you more. Would it be alright if I call you
Papa Zach? That is how I would refer to a grandfather if I had
one and it would mean a great deal to me to be allowed to
show you that respect."

"I do not know what I did to earn the respect, but I would
be honored. You certainly may call me Papa Zach."

She smiled brightly and said, "Papa Zach, you said you
were not done unpacking. Could you use some help? Your
sign says you will be opening next Friday, and tomorrow is
Saturday. I could come and help you."

The melody of her voice as she said the word 'Papa'
catapulted Zachariah's mind back to a moment in the past, to
a happy time when his mother had called his father 'Papa'
and it warmed his heart to hear the lovely young lady call him
by that name. His gaze had also drifted to the floor while his
memories of his loving parents and the love they shared filled
his head. He suddenly realized that it had gone quiet in the
shop except for the girl's exuberant breath. He looked up at
her. For a moment he had forgotten the question she had
asked him. He quickly replayed her last words through his
mind and then it returned, she had asked if he could use
some help, and he could see from the bright look in her eyes
that he would have a bit of an argument with her if he were
to say no. Yet there were things about this girl he already felt
that told him he wanted her near. He could feel her emotions
coming off of her like radiant heat from an old wood burning
stove. He could see occasional flashes of light dance around
her, little bits of energy that clued him in that she was more
than just a special girl in her polite and sweet nature. This girl
had a gift that was something he needed to be close to. It
made him feel alive and even younger than the magic of his
shop. His heart felt youthful for the first time since the death
of his wife.

Yes this girl was far more special than any of the other
clients that had come into his shop but most importantly she
had given him the first of the elements of the commission.
She had given him a gift of blood of an innocent child. Now he
had to wait for her to commission a piece of jewelry. It was
imperative that she be around as much as possible and even
though that was part of the requirements which he had to
fulfill, it was something his heart was more than pleased to
follow. He hoped that what she would ask for would be
something very special so that he could put all of his heart
and soul into its design. He wanted to create for her
something that would help her feel how beautiful she truly
was.

He smiled, "I guess I have made you dance long enough
for your answer. Melanie, you are welcome to help but I do
not have any cash on hand. I have not sold a piece in quite
some time and all my money is either tied up or has gone to
paying the rent on this place and buying back one of the
treasures."

"Oh no! No, Papa Zach. I don't want to be paid. Well, if
you want to pay me you can tell me some stories about the
treasures. I get the feeling from the way you say they return
to you that each of them has a special story, almost magical
and my curiosity about them is piqued. Besides I love to
listen to stories from older people about the past. People my
age just do not respect the generations of the past and there
is so much rich history in their tales and legends." She looked
at him. He could see the anticipation building to where she
was almost dancing before he finally gave his answer.

"Yes." He smiled for to hear the respect in her voice about
history was just one more thing that made this young girl so
special to him. She truly was a treasure. He already knew she
was more valuable than all the treasures in that cabinet
combined for she was a living, breathing jewel.

"Yay!" She jumped up and down and kissed his cheek.
Then she walked backwards toward the door, he watched as
she turned her head every once in a while as if she were
trying to make certain she didn't bump into something as she
headed for the door, but she kept looking back to him to
make eye contact as she spoke to him. "Papa Zach, I am
sorry I cannot stay longer but dinner will be on the table soon
and I do not want my mother to worry. I will tell her about
you and this place and she may stop in to check it out to
make certain it is what I say it is. I will be here bright and
early tomorrow. Just tell me when?"

"It is Saturday get here when you feel like it. I am usually
up before the sun."

She ran to the door then stopped ran back and kissed his
cheek again, "Thank you, thank you," she said then ran out
the door. The last thing he heard was her singing happily, as
she was nearly halfway up the block.

As the sound of her voice faded, the mirror on the wall
began to rattle. Zach got up and walked over to it. "Quiet,
Lilith. Do not be jealous. I know she is young and sweet but I
still love you my wife. I have loved you since the day I laid
eyes on you and I will always love you." Softly he stroked the
glass of the mirror and slowly it settled down. Zachariah felt a
cold tingling at the front of his skull, he could remember a
time when it was warm and pleasant but that had ceased long
ago and now it felt more like icy fingers reaching into the
frontal lobe of his brain.

Zachariah, the blood of this child that she brought you, I
can tell it is truly an innocent this time. Zachariah could feel a
quivering of those cold tendrils as he felt her excitement.

"What has happened? Why has it taken so long? I do not
remember ever getting this old before."

It has not been that long, my love. Living in New York and
Boston finding innocent children was hard to do. When the
blood of a non-innocent is used you do not regenerate as
much. The last time you only gained back ten years. That was
only thirty years ago. Your body is the same as a man who is
one hundred and ten.

"It is not that the magic is getting old?"

No my love. He remembered one of the things that had
always been a strong hatred for Lilith was to see a child
harmed or abused. It was one of the few times he could recall
while they were married that she had actually gotten violent
with someone. Innocence is harder to find. These are days of
child molestation, and parents teaching their children to hate
others because of race, or religion. Even small children steal,
lie, cheat and not just little innocent things of growing up but
things of a malicious nature so they are not innocent. Their
blood is not as strong.

"Oh yes. Now I remember. Back in the 1920's wasn't there
one time when the blood actually caused me to age?"

Yes, the little monster was killing cats and dogs when he
was only three and four years old. He killed his sister when he
was six and his parents when he was seven. We happened to
get his blood when he was eight. We were both weak because
it had been sixty years since the last time we'd had an
innocent and I could not tell his blood was tainted. It nearly
killed you my love. A sudden memory a fiery flash in her eyes
surfaced, eerie almost supernatural, he could not recall when
it happened but he remembered the feeling that it was not
right. That night when I became corporeal all I could do was
hold you in my arms. We were lucky that another innocent
came only a couple of days later or you might have died and I
would have been forever trapped in this mirror.

"Well, Melanie has to commission a piece for me to work
on for the blood to work. I do not know how to get her to get
the courage to do that. Maybe just bide my time."

The mirror began rattling again, Melanie, is it! This had
better just be business Zachary or when I get my body back
you will wish it had been.

Zach smiled then his heart grew cold as he suddenly
remembered the cruel temper Lilith had shown when she had
been even the slightest bit jealous. Though there had been no
reason for her to be jealous her hatred would boil within her
until she exploded and hell's fury would be unleashed upon
the object of her jealousy.

"There is nothing to be jealous of Lilith. Look at me I am
an old man, she is still a child she could not possibly see
anything in me. You know I would be a fool to care for
anyone but you." He prayed with all his heart that that would
ease her temper but there had been times that nothing he
would say would douse the flames once they had been lit.

We will see Zachariah, and you had better not be lying to
me. He could almost feel her smile wickedly at him. It was a
strange sensation to know what her spirit was doing even
though she had no form. Why did you not tell me Zaven had
appeared?

"Zaven?"

I can see him in your mind, you old fool! Have you lost
your memory of him already?

The image of the shadow was pulled into his memory by
the icy tendrils, forced there for him to see again and relive.

His heart raced wildly, he had not known she could force him
to recall memories and see things from his recent past. He
wondered if she could only see things he had seen or if she
could see and feel all his thoughts, if it was the latter he was
a dead man.

He tried to build a barrier in his mind to protect those
other thoughts just in case and as he did he began to distract
her by discussing what she wanted to hear, "It had been so
long since Zaven had been a harbinger that I had not even
recognized his sign. The shadow nearly scared the wits out of
me."

Yes, my Love, Zaven has searched long and hard this time,
we could not afford to have the child be another monster.
Someone like that would surely kill you this time, it could
have last time.

Zach leaned forward and kissed the mirror, "You will see
Lily it is only you I love and I am looking forward to holding
you in my arms again, even if it is only for a night. Now I
need to bid you a good night, I suspect the girl will be here
before I normally get up in the morning so I am going to set
my clock an hour earlier.

Good night, my love.
* * * *
The bell at the door chimed before his coffee had even
finished percolating. Quickly he walked to the door but just
before he got there he remembered that once he opened that
door he would appear to be every bit the old bent arthritic
man she had seen outside the day before so he slowed and
bent over and shuffled the last few steps to the door so that
the change would not be so dramatic and sudden that she
might notice a shift in his appearance. It was difficult for him
to maintain the posture though for he was excited about her
arrival, feeling more like a boy opening the door for his
girlfriend than an old man opening one for his assistant.

Slowly he opened the door and Melanie smiled up at him,
"Good morning, Papa Zach," she almost sang then she
stepped around him and nearly danced into the shop.
He watched her as she walked about looking at everything.

There was a bounce in her step like she was filled with
exuberance. He wondered if it was the joy of having someone
to talk to, for he had felt that emptiness and sadness in her
the day before. Perhaps it was from how excited she had
seemed about the idea of him telling her the stories. Could it
be that all her happiness could be wrapped around the
thought that when she had finished her tasks for the day she
would get to listen to one or more of the tales of the
treasures?

What ever it was it was filling his heart to see her in a
much happier state of mind than she had been in the day
before. Still there was a barrier within her that he could feel
that was holding her back from releasing her true joy.
Something deep inside her that was dark and sad kept her
from truly knowing what happiness really was.

"Melanie," he said, "why would you rather be here helping
an old man on a Saturday morning than out with your
friends." Zachariah was afraid he already knew the answer
but he had to hear it for himself.

The young girl found a rag and some cleaner and had
already begun cleaning the glass display cases. She looked up
and said, "I really like to be of use to someone."

"Oh, sweetheart, I know young girls like you have lots of
friends and you usually go places and talk about boys and
shop on Saturdays. Why are you here and not with them?"
She looked at him and smiled, "Oh, I am your sweetheart
am I, you dirty old man." Then she laughed but the laughter
slowly faded and he could see tears begin to form in the
corner of her eyes so he walked over to her.

"Listen, Melanie, you can tell me. I do not know anyone
else to tell, so I will be your confidant, and your friend."

She walked around the cabinet and wrapped her arms
around him, he had not expected that and it shocked him, yet
somehow it seemed right too. He knew she could trust him,
maybe somehow she knew it too. She looked up to him and
said, "I don't have any friends. They make fun of me because
I don't wear jeans and gym shoes but dress up all the time
except for when I had classes that required me to wear other
kinds of clothes.

"I just want to dress this way. No one makes me. I prefer
to dress like a woman and not be sleazy and slinky. I don't
like the types of tight fitting clothing that the girls wear that
show off their bodies. I want to be attractive, but refined, like
a southern belle, or a princess not a teenage vamp trying to
lure her boyfriend.

"So they all make fun of me and don't want anything to do
with me. I eat lunch alone in the library. I study alone." She
laid her head against his chest and added, "You are the first
person in ages that has tried to be a friend to me that did not
try to lift my dress."

Then she stepped back and wiped her eyes and said, "So,
Papa Zach, I am with my friend. I am here and I am helping
him get ready for a very important day for him." Then she
turned and went back to scrubbing the glass without another
word. Zachariah almost felt like a heel for having pushed that
confession out of her but at the same time he felt warm
inside for it was true he did like the girl and would be her
friend, her true friend.

For hours she worked hard at scrubbing the glass of the
cases. Every so often she would look up at him and see him
going over some of the drawers of the jewelry that would
stock the outer display cases, his eyepiece examining each
piece meticulously. It was odd how close she had come to feel
to him in such a short period but she already felt like she had
known him for a very long time. There was something about
him that touched her deeply and made her feel warm and
comfortable, almost loved. It was a feeling she had never felt
before. Melanie could not understand the reason she felt like
this but it was wonderful, and she wanted more of it. She
wanted to be with Papa Zach as much as she could because
the time with him seemed to make all the pain and loneliness
of her life disappear. She had not lied to him about truly
being alone. Even her own mother did not love her. She made
no qualms about telling her everyday that she did not.

Melanie could feel the tears come to her eyes again but as
she did, she looked up at Papa Zach and she no longer felt
the need to cry. Instead, she felt the need to run over and
jump in his arms and hug him like she had never hugged
anyone in her life. She smiled to herself, what were these
feelings within her. He was an old man and she would be
eighteen soon. Their ages were too far apart, why would she
feel this way toward him and in such a short time? Yet there
was no doubt that her heart beat a little stronger every time
she looked at him.

It also had to be her imagination but when he was inside
his shop he did not appear to be as old as he had when she
had first seen him. He appeared to be much younger,
sturdier, stronger, but that was impossible. It was like he was
two different men.

There was only one other thing that held as much
fascination for her as did Papa Zach and that was the
mysterious cabinet. Though she did not look at it nearly half
as often as she did him, she still looked at it quite a bit. She
glanced up as she finished cleaning the glass of the last case
and it was just past six. She decided to let her curiosity have
a little freedom.

She got a can of spray wax and some clean cloths and
walked over to the cabinet, but as she looked at it she
realized that it did not need waxing. Papa Zach had given her
the key to it earlier so that she could clean the glass inside it
as well, so she slid the key in the lock and as she twisted it
she heard a slight click and like magic the two doors began to
open slowly on their own. Her eyes again grew large as she
became transfixed by the startling beauty of the masterpieces
that aligned the shelves within. She reached toward the glass
but her hand paused short of it, fear filled her. She just did
not feel right.

The jewelry inside was worthy of being in the Smithsonian
or the Louvre but not touched by someone as plain and
unattractive as she was. Somehow she felt if she were to
clean them she would taint them and they would loose their
value. Slowly she lowered her head feeling as worthless as
her mother had always told her she was.

She knew he was standing behind her long before he
spoke. It was unusual that anyone could get so close to her
without her noticing but there was just something so unique
about the old man that not only made her comfortable about
him but made her know she was safe. She had no need to
have her guards up when he was around. It was as if he and
she had been friends since time had begun and she trusted
him like she trusted no other.

"So, I guess you are ready for your first payment?" He
spoke, his voice not the quivering voice of a man that had to
be past a hundred but the voice of a strong young man. His
voice alone sent shivers down her spine making her feel as if
it entered her soul and caressed her heart. If there was not
such a huge age difference she felt that a man like Papa Zach
would be a man she could live with forever. He continued with
his soothing tone, "I promised you a story about these pieces,
is there one that draws your attention and summons you to
hear its story more than any of the others?

Melanie looked at all the pieces and immediately knew
what piece she wanted to hear about. There was something
about it that drew her more than the others. Though it was
exceptionally crafted it looked like it may have been the first
piece that the master worked on before he had perfected his
talent.

"Go ahead," Zachariah urged her, "pick one out."
She turned to him and tears were in her eyes as she said,
"Papa Zach, they are so beautiful, I am afraid to touch them.
I am just a plain girl I do not compare to these at all."

Zachariah took her by the shoulders, looked into her eyes,
and said, "Of all the jewels in the world there are two that
sparkle brighter than any gemstone and those are your eyes.
Of all the treasures in the world there is one that is more
finely crafted than any craftsman could ever dream of making
and that is your soul. You have no reason to doubt your value
you are the greatest jewel in this room. So slide open the
doors and choose a piece of jewelry for me to tell you a story
about."

Melanie could feel her heart melting; no man had ever
spoken to her like that. No one had ever placed such a value
on her. Suddenly she felt very beautiful at least in the eyes of
Papa Zach. She turned and pushed the doors aside and
reached toward the very first piece in the collection, a ring
that was made of a pair of entwined serpents. Before her
fingers touched it she heard a gasp from behind her and
turned to look at Papa Zach. He had gone white, even whiter
than his frail translucent skin was in its normalcy.

"Is something wrong, Papa Zach?"

"Sweet girl, I promise I will tell you the ring's story, but I
ask you let it not be today? I need time to get used to the
idea of that one. There are some personal feelings that lie
deep within my family's memory on that piece."

Melanie nodded and then said, "Well then, you mentioned
some pieces of legendary proportions. A story perhaps that is
filled with a magic that is unbelievable?"

Papa Zach's color returned quickly and he smiled. Slowly
he reached for a pendant that dangled from a chain of gold so
delicate it looked like it was spun from the silken web of a
spider. The pendant was that of finely etched foil leaves of
gold wrapped about one another to forever capture the
beauty of a real rose in the soft metal. It was lightly etched
with a webbing of gold lace about the rose. To Melanie it
looked like if you were to even touch it within the gentlest of
grasps that it would be crushed beyond repair.

"The story behind this piece is one of those of myth and
legend. It encompasses creatures long forgotten and others
greatly misunderstood. It's about love between two of these
that cursed them beyond the end of their days. Yet it is a
story of such profound beauty and love that it touches the
heart like few others. Oddly the story is a story told by yet
another creature of legend. It is told from the heart of the son
of one of the two accursed lovers as he tells it to one he loves
but knows he is doomed to never be able to truly love." A
tear slid down Zach's heavily wrinkled cheek and got lost in
one of the canyons of his age. Melanie felt her heart tug and
she wanted to reach out to him but saw him straighten his
shoulders as he began to unfold the tale before her.

In the Crimson Z The story, Love of a Pendant Heart follows this chapter. Chapter 2 of Ritual of the Crimson Z follows Love of a Pendant Heart.

Toy's Story:
Aquisition of a Sex Toy
By Robert Cloud

Bound By Fate
By Lee Rush

Fool Me Once
By Jessica Joy
(Jessica also writes as Abby Blythe)

1 Fan -- Books given this rating include very minimal sexual activity between hero and heroine. Sexual activity that does occur is described without the use of graphic terms. These titles will be found in our Tender Destinations line and in our Amorous Adventures line.

2 Fan -- Books given this rating include a moderate amount of sexual activity between hero and heroine, however it is described in romantic as opposed to graphic terms. These books will be found in our Tender Destinations and Amorous Adventures lines.

3 Fans -- Books given this rating include a lot of sexuality between hero and heroine. The activity may be described graphically but will not include fetish elements. Books with this rating will be found in our Sensuous Journeys line and in our Amorous Adventures line.

4 Fans -- Book given this rating include a lot of sexuality between hero and heroine and will typically include fetish elements. Sexuality in these books is described graphically but with a softer touch than our 5 Fan titles. Books with the 4 fan rating will be found in our Forbidden Experiences line as well as our Amorous Adventures line.

5 Fans -- Books with this rating include a very high degree of sexuality between hero and heroine. These books include fetish elements which are described graphically. Books with this rating will be found in our Forbidden Experiences and Amorous Adventures lines.

Tender Destinations
Are poignant stories of meeting and falling in love. They contain a minimal level of sexuality.

Sensuous Journeys
Are emotional and poignant but include explicit descriptions of the lovemaking between hero and heroine. There is no explicit fetish component in these books.

Forbidden Experiences
Are powerful and emotional love stories with explicit sexuality which includes fetish content.

Amorous Adventures
Are love stories with an element of suspense or danger.