When I Look Into Your Eyes



  When I Look Into Your Eyes

  Written by Marisa Quinn-Haisu

  Cover design by Najla Qamber Designs

  Copyright 2014 Marisa Quinn-Haisu

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  I like the darkness in here, thought Hera. She could hear rain hitting the roof of the limousine. It’s quiet, serene, I can think. She raised a glass of champagne to her lips and sipped at the amber liquid. Ahhh. Her mouth curved into a smile. Excellent. Simply excellent. The car slowed to a halt. Hera looked out the front windscreen and saw that they had stopped in front of a set of red lights. She leaned forward in her seat and pressed the intercom button. “How much further Peter?”

  Her driver flicked a look at her in the rear view mirror. “Not much further,” he said. Hera nodded and took her finger off the button. She reached into her purse and took out a tube of lipstick. She flipped open a compact mirror and began painting her lips in red.

  The intercom buzzed. “You have an incoming call,” said Peter.

  Hera snapped her mirror shut. “Thank you. Please put it through.”

  There was a pause and then the Bluetooth in the back of the car came on.

  "Hera," said a deep, male voice.

  "Is she there?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "Is the child with her?"

  "Yes."

  "Anyone else?"

  "No. She lives alone."

  Hera poured herself some more champagne. "Thank you. That will be all."

  "I live to serve." There was a click and then the line went silent. The traffic lights switched from red to green. The car started moving again. They passed through a few more streets before pulling up to the curb in front of a sad, weary looking apartment building. Peter turned off the engine, unclicked his belt, and opened his door. He shook open an umbrella and stepped out into the rain. He hurried over to Hera’s side of the car and opened her door for her. “Ma ’am.”

  Hera tucked her purse under one arm and stepped out of the car. “Thank you.” She took his umbrella. He popped open another one for himself.

  “Will you be staying long?” Rain was coming down in a light drizzle.

  “No more than half an hour, I think.”

  “Would you like for me to wait for you?”

  Hera pulled on a pair of gloves. “No, thank you,” she said, shaking her head.

  “All right, ma’am.” He said with a smile. He got back into the car and left her standing on the sidewalk. He started the engine and pulled out into traffic.

  It was dark in the street. A car sped past with its headlights blazing and its wheels kicking up water. Somewhere, a dog began barking.

  Hera peered up at the apartment building. Its front garden was a patch of dirt. A set of cement steps lead up to a plain wooden door. A sign out the front read NORTH SIDE APARTMENTS in faded black lettering. There was light coming from several windows. Including, she noted, one on the fourth floor.

  Hera stepped into the foyer and went straight to a set of mail boxes. She found the one labelled for 4B and pulled out a wad of envelopes. “Cassandra White,” she read out loud. She scrunched the letters up and threw them onto the floor.

  Her spine stiff with anger, Hera pressed the button for the elevator. It shuddered down to the bottom floor and opened its doors. She stepped inside and selected the fourth floor. The elevator groaned and began to climb upward. It smelt like stale piss inside the metal box. Hera fished a tissue out of her purse and held it over her mouth and nose in disgust. The elevator slowed to a stop and opened its doors.

  The carpet was worn and frayed on the fourth floor. There were stains on the walls and the lights hanging from the roof were chipped and coated in dust. She walked down to 4B and put a hand on the door handle...

  BOOM! The door exploded outward with enough force to make her hit the opposite wall hard enough to crack it up to the ceiling. A fine sprinkling of dust rained down on her head and shoulders. Hera winced and touched her chest. Her blouse had been shredded and she could feel where several shot gun pellets had struck her. She picked herself up, dusted herself off, and with an annoyed shake of the head forced her way inside 4B. Cassandra stood waiting for her with a shot gun.

  BOOM! A flash of fire erupted from the barrel. Hera staggered backward, wincing, as more pellets hit her. She ignored the pain and with an angry swagger to her hips continued to approach the other woman. Cassandra put down her gun and retreated deeper into the apartment trembling like a frightened rabbit. She closed her eyes and spread her arms. All of the electrical devices in the apartment suddenly switched themselves on. Hera stopped in mid stride and raised her eyebrows in surprise.

  Bam! The microwave jumped in the air and then came back down again. Pop! The toaster did the same. Bang! The back of the television erupted into smoke. Hera turned her eyes back onto Cassandra and saw that her hair was rippling around her shoulders and that the whites of her eyes had turned electric blue. Her lips pulled back over her teeth…her arms came upward…her fingers uncurled…and lightning flashed from her fingertips. Hera ran into another room and dove behind a couch.

  Cassandra gave pursuit. The moment she appeared in the doorway Hera stood up, lifted the couch above her head, and threw it at her. It hit Cassandra in the chest and she went down hard beneath its weight. A sneer twisting her mouth, Hera grabbed her left ankle and pulled her out from under the piece of furniture.

  Cassandra sat up from the waist, white faced and bloodied, and put a hand on Hera’s calf. Her palm glowed white. The air crackled with the snap-hiss of electricity and Hera felt a sharp shock travel up her leg. The pain was mild so she shook it off with a shrug of her shoulders and put both hands into Cassandra’s thick length of hair. Gripping the woman’s long locks tightly, Hera began to drag her across the floor.

  “No,” she sobbed. “No, no, let me go!”

  Hera ignored her pleas and feeble punches and took her into the kitchen. She picked her up by the front of her shirt and threw her against a cabinet. Cassandra whipped around, teary eyed, and slapped a hand on the bench top. A violent shudder rippled throughout the walls…drawers and pantry doors sprung open…and plates and bowls soared out like flying saucers. The air became thick with them. Hera clapped her hands together and every piece of dinnerware went still and floated in mid-air for a handful of seconds before dramatically dropping to the floor and shattering.

  “I think you and I need to talk, Ms White,” she said. “Do you know who I am?” A heartbeat of silence passed between the two women. “Yes,” she answered, nodding slowly, her face etched with lines of terror. “You’re Hera.”

  “And do you know what I am?”

  Cassandra began to shake. “You’re a goddess,” she said in a broken voice. Hera reached into a drawer and began rifling through the selection of cutlery that was in it. “That’s right. I am.” She pulled out a large knife. “And do you know why I’m here?”

  Cassandra let her weight fall back onto the kitchen bench. Her throat muscles twitched. “You’re here because I…” A sob escaped her mouth. “Because I…” She put her face into her hands and lowered her chin onto her chest. “I had a child with Zeus.”

  “Yes. Yes you did. He didn’t hide you very well from me. I was surprised by that.”

  “I didn’t know who he was or what he was when we met, I swear! He lied to me. He told me he his name was Gideon and that he owned a business. We onl
y dated for a couple of weeks. I thought he was normal. He drove a car. He had a house.”

  Hera stepped out of the kitchen and entered the dining room. “I see.” She walked over to a wooden bookcase and picked up a framed photo of Cassandra as a little girl. “You’re not so normal yourself, Ms White.” She put the photo back down. “You have some interesting abilities.” Her gaze strayed back to her husband’s whore. “How long have you been able to control electricity? Are you even human?”

  “Of course I am! What else would I be?”

  “Oh,” Hera snorted with laughter. “You could be many things, Ms White. Zeus did not let you into his bed because he liked your pretty face. He has a unique taste in women. He likes them to have gifts. I bet your family tree is very interesting.” Her powers are strong. One of her parents or grandparents had to have been something other than human. The question is what?

  “No,” Cassandra shook her head. “No, it’s not. My family are ordinary people. They always have been. They’re not like me. They don’t have special abilities.”

  Liar. “When did Zeus tell you the truth about who he was?”

  “The night I told him I was pregnant. He told me his name.”

  Hera pulled a book out of the bookcase and started flipping through its pages. “And then what happened?” She snapped the book shut and slid it back onto the shelf.

  “I didn’t believe he was who he said he was so he made it rain.”

  Hera gave her head a little shake. Typical. “Did he?”

  “Yes. Inside my apartment. It wasn’t regular rain though. It was gold sparkles.” Ah, that old trick again. “And what happened after that, Ms White?”

  “He told me I was special. He told me he’d selected me to carry his off spring.” I can’t remember the last time he wanted to touch me. “Did he say anything else?” Hera kept her back facing Cassandra so she could not see the tears building in her eyes.

  “Yes. He spoke about you.”

  “Oh, did he, now?” She balled her hands into fists. “And what did he say about me?”

  “He said that you both hated each other.”

  Hera caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror and saw that there were lines etched around her eyes and mouth. She suddenly felt old and tired. “We do.”

  “Then why not let him out of your marriage?”

  I should rip out your tongue. “And let him be happy?” Hera wiped at the tears rolling down her face. “Why would I want to do that? I would rather choke.” She held up a child’s doll and glared at the happy expression painted on its face.

  “He told me you were possessive of him.”

  She put the doll down. “Why are you defending him? He impregnated you and then left you. He didn’t care about you. He just likes having children. You’re nothing to him. You were just another host for his seed. You were just another one of his whores.”

  “If you hate him so much why do you care who he sleeps with?”

  “He dishonours me. I am his wife. He shouldn’t be sleeping with other women. He belongs in my bed. He does all of this to hurt me.”

  “I had a feeling you would try to find me.”

  “It’s a game we play. He runs away, finds a whore, gets her pregnant and then tries to hide her and the child from me.”

  “What do you do when you find them?”

  Hera held up the knife and examined it. She could feel Cassandra’s eyes burning into her back. “What do you think I do with them?” She spun around and with a merciless twist of her lips threw the knife across the room with expert aim.

  It struck Cassandra in the chest. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open in a gasp. She dropped to her knees and then fell onto her side. A large blood stain blossomed across her shirt. A door creaked open.

  Hera turned and saw that a little girl had entered the room. She had light brown skin and short curly black hair. She was bare foot and wearing pyjamas. Her eyes were an unusually bright shade of blue. She peered past Hera and looked at Cassandra. Her little mouth trembled. “Mummy?” There was a wavering note in her voice.

  Something melted inside Hera. “Go,” she surprised herself by shouting. “Run away! Leave this house and never come back! There is nothing here for you now!” The girl threw a final, tearful glance at her mother, and then took off running.

  “Why did you let her go?” asked Zeus from behind Hera. She chose not to question his sudden appearance. “She had your eyes,” she said with a sideward glance at him. “Sometimes when I look into your eyes I remember that I loved you once.” She turned her back to him and walked out of the apartment.

  ###

  About the author:

  Marisa Quinn-Haisu lives in Australia and is currently studying a Bachelor of Writing at Edith Cowan University. Her interests include reading, writing, playing Nintendo games, and collecting Sailor Moon figurines.

  Connect with Marisa online:

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