by J. L. Myers
The same seashell compact he’d had behind the diner with a photo of a beautiful woman inside.
I bristled at the memory of her stunning face, lips any guy would want to devour, and ocean-blue eyes that sparkled as if telling secrets. I folded my arms over my chest and released his bulging bicep. “Why are you here? How are you here?” His mouth opened and shut without forming words, his eyes that resembled a stormy sea raging in the shadows as he glanced to my ears. I tugged my hair forward and shoved at his chest. The sting of jealousy added ire to my spat words, “Don’t bother. Move and don’t stick around. I’m over this shit.” I stalked past him, knocking his shoulder with less effect than I was going for. “My life was fine before you showed up,” I called over my shoulder. “Why don’t you jump in and drown.”
I staggered as I crossed the dusty gravel toward the entrance of the warehouse. The words that had come out of my mouth had been mean, and maybe not uncalled for, but still, I’d never gone out of my way to be nasty. I stopped, and then sucked in my breath as warmth settled right behind me. Instead of staring after me or taking off, my stalker had followed me. Now his chest was flush against my back, his pecs expanding with deep audible breaths.
“Calliope—”
His voice was sincere, but I spoke over him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, even if you are stalking me and acting weird and sending me all kinds of signals that are giving me whiplash. I’m just…”
How could I say that I felt like I was losing my mind to a complete stranger? How could I confide in someone I didn’t know from Joe Blow who was as dangerous as he was sexy?
Adamaris’s hand sliding gently up my arm kept the words trapped inside and brought a delicious chill to my skin. My thoughts ran wild with images of lust and desires that I’d never even dreamed about. “You are changing. Since you broke that mirror last night and inhaled the golden dust, the glamour your mother cast on you has dissolved. Your skin, your eyes, your ears…”
“My mom?” Thoughts of his hands graduating to my neck and then my waist, and curling around my front to my chest as his hot lips trailed along my shoulder fled at once. I whirled and faced him, my chest brushing against his rock-hard torso and puffing out with a gasp of electric sensation. But my thoughts stayed true, locked on all he had said as the dying image of my mother blowing dust in my face rushed in like a flood. “How do you know all this?”
Adamaris cracked a crooked smiled that teased the dimples out of the five-o’clock shadow across his cheeks. His hand lifted slowly, testingly, meeting my pointed chin and traveling up my jaw. Fire blazed where he touched me, burning me from the inside and jacking my heart rate up. He met the veil of my long hair and I stiffened, knowing where he was headed, terrified he’d see what I’d confirmed with my own fingertips in the alley.
Adamaris paused, his gaze softening as his eyebrows rose. “Trust me, Calli. I would never hurt you.”
I released my breath, giving him the green light even though I didn’t mentally make the choice. And I knew why. Despite all the mystery and uncertainty and fear, I hadn’t been this close to someone since my mother died. No one had ever looked at me like Adamaris did, and no one had ever touched me with such tenderness all while asking permission. It was so alien to my upbringing of being screamed at or hit or locked away. It was abnormal, I was sure of it, but despite all that had happened, I did trust that he wouldn’t harm me in this moment.
The smoldering of his eyes returned with the widening of his smile as he took my unspoken acceptance. Moving slowly, he brushed my hair back, grazing my hot face and then my ear. I braced for the shock, horror, and disgust to spread across his face as his soft fingers rode the top curve of my ear, touching the pointed tip to secure my hair over my shoulder. “The glamor kept your natural traits hidden. They concealed you to keep you safe…until there was no way to protect you anymore.”
“Who are you?” I shuddered in the best possible way as he lowered his hand to rest it on my shoulder, like it belonged there, like he wanted to keep touching me too. “Why is this happening to me? And why do you care? And how do you keep showing up when I least expect it?”
My sexy stalker blew out a breath, freezing my own as he slid his hand down my arm and laced his fingers through mine. “Come. Sit.”
Adamaris gave a little tug, and I went along with him, walking hand in hand back to the bridge. Perching down on the edge, I followed as he pulled me down beside him, sitting almost close enough to touch the dark denim that covered his legs. His bare feet swung back and forth over the edge, and he pulled the compact from his front pocket.
“This…” He held up the compact. “It shows me where you are, and water takes me to you.”
Okaaay. It wasn’t the craziest thing I’d heard or seen in the past few days. But for some reason, seeing that compact again hurt. The item he’d dropped, I realized, and let me fall to retrieve. I glanced away, feeling that same addictive anger rise up, forgetting all the other questions I’d asked and why I needed to know the answers. “Who is she?”
“Huh?” Sexonlegs caught my glare at the compact he clung to. He cracked a smile.
“Something suddenly funny? Because I seriously doubt it. You come into my life, shatter it to—”
“She’s my mother. Or, at least, she was…”
The sad look that stole the cockiness from his eyes hit me where it hurts. The pain of losing my own mother had been a constant companion for my whole life, and this gorgeous guy, if what he was saying was true, had suffered that same loss. From the depression in his eyes as he stared down at the tumbling stream below, he still felt the sting of that loss now. My hand fell onto his thigh without even a thought before it happened, and now I was here in this moment, touching him, so close to him, and needing to console him for the pain he so clearly felt. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”
Adamaris looked sidelong away from me, sniffing like he was trying to remain strong and stuff down the grief. But then he twisted his head and looked right at me. “She died of a broken heart.” Expression darkening with a flare of his nostrils, he shoved the compact back into his pocket and brushed off my lingering hand from his thigh. He stood in a rush, lips tight and eyes dark with anger. “Enough Q&A. I will not be like her and I will not repeat the same bad habits. We have our parts and we must play them. That is all, nothing more, nothing less.”
Bordered by dark draping trees, he spun away from me and strode toward the alley, leaving me dumbfounded with my mouth hanging open.
“I’ll return for what I need later.” A sharp look was cut over his shoulder back at me. “Be ready to sing, Princess. Next time, I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Chapter Fifteen
I lingered in the back behind all the beautiful art that was displayed. Friday night had finally arrived, and I was a nervous wreck. My pieces were only a handful out of the exhibitions on display, but seeing all the people that flocked around my dreams and nightmares brought to life on canvas was the most nerve-wracking experience of my life. In a short, body-hugging black number that had belonged to my mother, I should have been cold under the air conditioner that pumped down from the exposed pipes and ventilation grates overhead. But I was far from cold. My eyes darted without reprieve. Sweat dotted my forehead and my upper lip. My back was damp and so was the area where my breasts pressed together. I could hardly stand still, shifting from putting my weight on one leg and then the other.
I told myself it was nerves from vendors’ reactions to my art and fear that they would hate it. But the night had gone off without a hitch. Nine of my ten paintings had sold stickers on them, which meant enough moolah to upgrade a few luxuries I’d never had. It also meant I could eat more than canned tuna on toast week in and week out. With this boon, and if I booked another gallery event, I could even look at finding myself a place where I didn’t have to bathe in an old communal bath. Not that I wanted to leave. How could I abandon my mom and the last place I’d seen her before she vanished f
rom my life?
To top off my good night, Adamaris hadn’t shown his face, much to my relief—yes, relief! But I was lying, and I knew it. That look of deep depression on his face had touched my stupid heart. It had shown me a side of him that was vulnerable and real, something outside of the seductive and dangerous stalker he portrayed himself as. Was I seriously falling for my stalker? “No, that would definitely be crazy.”
Or is it precisely what you want?
The whispered words in my ear had my head twisting sideways. White stared back at me. A blank wall. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The voices had returned shortly after my arrival, but this one had sounded like it was right beside me. And there was the main reason for my anxiety. In danger or insane? I couldn’t decide which would be worse. But I knew I couldn’t stay. I had to get out of here. There were too many reflective surfaces, statue shapes and abstract bodies polished to shiny perfection, framed pieces with glass that caught the industrial domed lights from the rafters and reflected way too easily, and oh my God!
I planted a hand into the wall, hyperventilating on air that was suddenly too thin and soaked with too many variations of pungent perfume. My art dealer just walked in from the back room carrying a mirror dressed in a gilt frame.
A flash of something dark shot sideways across the surface, disappearing right off the edge.
My dealer seemed to change his mind, returning the mirror to the storage room. But I wasn’t out of danger yet. I followed the disappearing shadow to find an abstract sculpture that towered over me. It was silver and gleamed under the lights, and before I knew it, I was creeping closer. “It’s all in your head,” I repeated over and over under my breath. The monster was dead. I’d killed it. But my racing heart promised I was wrong.
And so did the raspy voice in my ear. Come and find out. I won’t bite.
A guy in a flashy suit passed between me and the statue—right as that dark mass shifted back over the shiny silver. I darted right to get around him…and saw nothing. Just a statue.
“Calli, come on.”
I whirled, feeling like I’d just swallowed a fist. Right behind me, my art dealer took me by my arm and marched me away from the statue. For a small guy, his grip was strong, his arm linking through my own. “It’s time to meet your fans.”
I tried to unhook myself from Philippe’s hold, throwing my head over my shoulder at the statue then the closed storage door, but he pulled me forward through the moving art lovers in their to-the-nines cocktail and formal attire. The glimpse of the piece was clear too, no shadows and no scary faces appearing with threats of good fortune.
“Your last piece just sold to some drop-dead-gorgeous hunk of a man. Hey, do me a favor and get me his number. He looks straight, but I’m betting I can show him a world he won’t want to leave. If you know what I mean.” Philippe gave me a dark browed wink, smoothing back his already perfectly slicked hair.
And I did know what he meant, his description stealing my attention from the piece he was dragging me from. Now walking rather than being pulled, I searched through the crowd for the face I was sure would be there. A smaller group of men and women stood in front of my art that hung from temporarily erected white walls. The women were poised in their long and shorter dresses, dripping in gold and diamonds. The men were dapper, faces shaved and suits sharp.
“Oh, darn,” Philippe whispered, toying with his manicured goatee with a disappointed tsk. “Looks like he snuck away.” Clearing his throat, he shifted me in front of him and squeezed my shoulders. “This is Calli Rivers. The talented new artist I discovered…”
His self-important spiel continued, talking himself up and his charity of giving me a go when I was brand new and inexperienced. Apparently, he’d molded me into the talented artist before him, but I wasn’t listening to a single word. To the left of my art, the front window was within sight, the moving cars on the street whizzing by despite the slow speed limit. The whole room reflected in the glass, moving people and…art that came alive.
I caught my gasp before it could escape and looked past the people in front of me to my own paintings. My eyes narrowed, then they widened. Shut the front door. There in one of the pieces with a soaring castle nestled among a garden of human-sized flowers something was moving. Up in the castle that sparkled as if made of mirrors through one of the windows—was the monster from my nightmares. It was so not effing dead, but soon I would be. I took a step back.
The heel of my stiletto stabbed into Philippe’s toes, and he gave a squeak and pushed me to the side. Lips thinning with pain, he winced but pulled it together after a brief glare. “And now you can see what she has created…”
Eyes shooting back to the canvas, the window was empty. But this time I did gasp. The gangly black figure was down in the garden, weaving through the flowers that were just as tall, getting closer and closer to the front of the painting—like it was preparing to climb out.
“Jealousy. Loneliness. I can make it all go away.”
I staggered back and gasped. More voices emerged suddenly, sounding like they were coming from all around me. Wish. Desire. Love. Hope. As they spoke words of dark promises for a trade, the monster’s face appeared in the statue from earlier, and then its ghostly reflection flashed to the glass covering over a black and white aerial shot of Mystic. Back to hyperventilating, I shook my head. “Sorry, Philippe. I—I have to go.”
“Calli, but—”
But I was already gone, darting through people and racing for the front entrance that was a full wall of glass. The voices grew louder, their promises turning into threats if I denied their good will. The dark shadowed figure haunted me, darting from one place to the next, dominating what had been artistic pictures and a cluster of glossy white sculptures of large and small hearts that ranged from whole to shattered.
People gasped and murmured, quickly catching sight of me while I bumped into others and almost knocked a few men and women over. I went to steady one woman, then yelped as big glossy eyes in a long pointed face appeared in the polished concrete below my feet, reaching its claws out like it could drag me right through the ground. And then the front wall of glass was all that sat between me and my escape.
“Oh, hell no.”
The same murderous monster I’d killed nearly a week ago darted again. It grew larger on the ceiling-high pane of glass, its voice cackling as it curled its fingers invitingly. “Think you can escape me? Tick tock, little girl. You’re not meant to be here. You don’t belong, and I’m through with waiting. You have what I need, and your payment is due.”
There was no other way out. I couldn’t turn around and get through the crowd to escape out the back. I’d never make it. The monster strolled across the glass pane toward the door, its face growing and mouth opening—so it could swallow me as I escaped?
With no time to hesitate, I dashed for the door. The monster’s mouth was so close, stretching wide enough in preparation to consume the entire frame. Don’t stop, Calli. Don’t stop. For once, I listened to the voice, because this one was my own. Leaping through as a shocked woman who just entered pulled the exit open wide, I sailed out of the gallery. A screech unlike anything I had ever heard had me covering my ears and racing out into the street.
A horn blared, twin lights blinded my sight.
A city bus barreled right for me—
Something slammed into me from side-on, throwing me off my feet and down to the ground. Hot and hard and smelling like the ocean, I knew it was him.
My stalker.
My protector.
I caught a glimpse of the sheer determination across Adamaris’s face as his strong arm wrapped around me and pulled me close. Another car swerved. More horns blared. But the bus couldn’t stop, its brakes screeching with little effect. I braced for death as we hit a long pothole of water—and we sank down as if we’d been dropped from the sky into the ocean.
Chapter Sixteen
My face burst up through water and I gasped for air. Dark
ness surrounded me, a black lace canopy of trees draping from above with spears of moonlight slicing through to…the river. Nearby my loft. The realization was quickly overshadowed by the hot mass that kept me wrapped in his strong arms. Half laying on Adamaris, my chest pressed into his over and over with my fast breaths. My body tingled everywhere it touched him in the small black dress that now clung to me like a second skin. Our legs tangled beneath the tumbling water, our pelvises aligned without any separation. My arms draped up the sides of his rock-hard chest, one hand clinging to his bicep and the other to his neck.
Our faces were so close; I could taste him on my tongue.
“Calliope, are you hurt?”
The timbre of his deep voice and the true fear in his eyes broke down any rationality I had left inside me. The sight of him, breath rough, soaked hair hanging in his face, and the way his ocean blue eyes burned with worry and something so much deeper and needing spiked my adrenaline for an entirely different reason than self-preservation. I’d escaped with my life—just. And now I was here, alive and safe in the arms of a man who scared and excited me more than any male ever had. “You…you saved me.”
Adamaris flashed me his cocky lopsided grin, bringing out those swoon-worthy dimples.
Game. Set. Match.
Clinging tighter to his neck, I planted my lips against his. Soft, hot, and shaped as if they were made to fit mine, his gasp of surprise let me in. My other hand came up the moment our tongues met, pulling his suddenly rigid body closer, tasting him for real as my head spun.
Then the shock of my desirous attack was over, and my stalker kissed me back.
Fireworks went off in my body like tiny explosions, bursting with pockets of heat that spread like wildfire from my mouth and down my body as he devoured me with kisses. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more, needing this never to stop. The gushing water only added to every other sensation, caressing my body with a feeling of cold silk as his arm around my waist pulled me closer. His other hand glided roughly down from my ribs to my hips, curving over the plains of my body to grope my butt. Those pockets of heat filled my belly and struck downward, warming the core between my legs.