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Teresa sprinted to the abandoned house. Inside, the walls melted into the cave. She let out a relieved breath.
“Yaldabaoth,” she said, “I need to speak with you.”
The walls swirled and the nursery he’d constructed for her appeared. He sat in the rocker with his fingers tented before his face—his eyes, as always, full of sexual malice.
“My dear, dear Teresa.” He stood, and a wicked grin slithered onto his lips. “Back for more so soon?”
She backed away from him. “I need to discuss speeding up the process.”
He gasped in mock surprise. “Just last night you were over this whole charade.”
“I’m over your charade. Your deception.” Teresa peered into the empty crib. “Where is my Tiffany? Let me see her.”
Yaldabaoth approached her. “You don’t need her right now.” He slid the back of his fingers down her cheek. Teresa took in a gasp of air at his touch but pushed his hand away.
“How can I get this done faster? Can I take more than one a night?”
Desperation clawed at her insides at the very thought of returning to Mountain View. She couldn’t go back there. She wouldn’t. She would rather die.
“You send Tiffany to me. What drives your decision to send her?”
He didn’t answer but watched her thoughtfully. He seemed to be enjoying her desperation.
“Some were at night, one during the day. What makes you decide when?”
“That is hardly important,” Yaldabaoth said. “I am impressed by your desire to succeed, to finish. Please, come.” He guided her to the door, and they stepped out of the nursery into her own formal dining room, complete with the table and chairs she’d picked out back when they first moved in.
He pulled a chair out for her to sit. She accepted, and he sat across from her.
“You need not know the ins and outs of this,” Yaldabaoth said. “You only need to know that every time you give me a soul I am that much closer to the powerful being I once was, that much closer to giving you what you seek.”
“What happened to you?”
“My mother. She cast me from her. She sent me here, to Tartaros. It was a misunderstanding. I took some of her light. I needed it to live.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. “When my mother sent me away, I was but a shred of my former self. A wisp. A fragment. A fractioned soul.” His voice had grown distant.
“But then, I used her small amount of light and multiplied it. With each creation, I gained more power. First, I created seven heavens. Next, seven sons and daughters, then they too multiplied by seven more. I took my power outside of the seven heavens and formed the material world.”
Teresa knew better than to yell blasphemy like she had with Louise.
She met his eyes, and for once, she saw more than evil. There was a sad hope. She leaned forward and almost touched his hand, but she pulled back before the motion carried her away.
“My mother has always been so much more powerful than I.” He looked away from Teresa. She could relate. His jaw twitched, and when he looked at her again, the hope and sadness were replaced by rage. “She will pay.”
“The sooner to bring you to power, then?” Teresa ventured.
“Yes. Yes, of course.” He flipped a hand. “But you must understand.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “The zoe is strong. It takes time for me to absorb it. To truly revel in the ecstasy.” He pulled her close to him and tilted her chin. “You understand—don’t you?” He lowered his lips toward hers but didn’t kiss her.
She closed her eyes and yearned for him to close the small gap, but at the same time her mind screamed in terror.
“Yes,” she whispered. He released her.
“Tiffany will appear when the time is right.”
The cave reappeared, and he pointed toward the doorway.
Outside, she bent over and gripped her knees. Her body, heated by Yaldabaoth’s touch, shook with pleasure and fear. He was right. He had so much power over her.
With no way to speed up the process, Teresa returned home. Derrick’s threat of taking her back to Mountain View loomed in the forefront of her mind.
“I can’t live that way.” She picked up the pace and made it home in less than ten minutes.
In the kitchen, she picked up the phone and called her mother. It rang three times before her mom answered.
“Hello, Teresa. What have you gotten yourself into now?”
Teresa ignored her mother’s snide remark.
“Derrick wants me to go back to Mountain View for analysis. I can’t go back there, Mom. I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ve angered your husband. You need to make things right with him. He is your topmost priority. A happy husband is a happy home.” Recycled advice. She’d heard the same so many times in her life and on the phone these past few days.
“Yes, but . . .”
The front door opened, and Derrick walked in. “Oh, hey. I forgot my lunch—who are you talking to?”
“I have to go.” Teresa hung up.
“Who was that?” Derrick asked.
“None of your business.” She crossed her arms.
“Tell me who you were talking to.”
Teresa lifted her chin and tightened her lips.
“Was it your new friend? Who is she?” Funny he would assume her new friend was female.
Teresa relented. “I was talking to my mother, if you must know. I called her earlier in the week, after you took the baby’s furniture, and apologized for the years of silence. I had to talk to someone. Since you seem to believe I have no friends.”
Derrick’s face turned white and his mouth dropped open. Was it that much of a shock that she would call her mom? He closed his mouth and swallowed. Teresa actually saw and heard his Adam’s apple bob up and down.
“What’s wrong? You look like someone danced on your grave.”
“Teresa.” Derrick’s voice was low and soft. It was his doctor’s voice. She hated when he used that voice on her. “You can’t have called your mother.”
Teresa tightened her crossed arms. “And why not? I have every right to call my family if I want to.”
“No, it’s not that you’re not allowed . . . It’s just . . . Teresa . . . your mother is . . .” He swallowed. “She’s dead.”