Aflame (Apotheosis)

by Daniels, Krissy

  I would love to sit here and watch you work all night. It’s hypnotic. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. However, a superhero’s work is never done, and alas, I’ve been called away. Here’s my number, call me when your shift is over. I’ll drive you back to your car. Z

  “Seriously? Hypnotic? Beautiful?” she asked, grumbling to no one. “Must be drunk.” She crammed the note and money into the pocket of her too-tight jeans.

  “Grayce.” A sharp stinging smack to her backside caused her to knock a half empty glass of beer to the floor. A flood of fury crashed down on her and everything turned red. The table, walls, people. Red.

  “What the fuck?” She turned to find a regular, Crazy Joe, as she liked to call him, dragging his tongue across a cracked lip and eyeing her up and down. Obviously inebriated enough to have forgotten she’d nearly broke his wrist last time he touched her, he swayed on unsteady legs and gave her a wink.

  “Darlin’, you are so gorgeous. Let me take you home tonight.” His slurred words were fuel to the fiery anger burning in her gut.

  Grayce straightened herself and jetted her chin up. “You fucking touch me again, I’ll kill you.”

  The man smiled and placed his hands on his hips. “Cock tease. Bitch. You know you want—”

  Before he could finish, Grayce’s fist met his jaw with such force that blood sprayed across the table and landed decoratively on the wall. Stunned, but too drunk to register pain, the man stumbled a step or two, then landed with a loud thud at her feet. Impressed with the strength she’d pulled out of nowhere, Grayce inspected her fist for damage. Nothing. Not a cut, bruise or even a red mark. As she surveyed the room, it was no shock to discover all eyes were on her. But she was surprised to find she was still seeing red—literally.

  After her shift, which ended moments after the ambulance carted away the drunk asshole, she grabbed a ride home with Georgia, who conveniently lived a few short blocks from Grayce’s apartment.

  “Your car in the shop again?” Georgia asked with her trademark sneer. The two had never been particularly fond of each other. Grayce didn’t make friends. Why bother? Being on the run wasn’t great grounds for nurturing relationships.

  “Yes.” Grayce rolled her eyes and lied. “She’s in the shop again.” She lacked the energy or patience to explain the truth. No way was she going to impose on Zander. So, it was take a taxi or accept Georgia’s offer for a ride home.

  “I met someone. Totally hot. Rich too.” Georgia waited for Grayce’s response. When it didn’t come, she continued. “Get this. He let me drive his Porsche. God, it was amazing.”

  “Uh-huh.” Did Georgia honestly believe she gave a fuck? Grayce nodded and pretended to listen as Georgia rambled. Man, that was the longest ride of her life.

  Her apartment was small and cozy. She loved coming home. Her stuff, her mess, her food. No one around to bark commands, tell her what to wear or what to eat. Bed made? No. Dirty dishes in the sink? Yes. They’d get washed when she was damned well good and ready. Hell would freeze over before anyone told her how to live again. Period.

  She locked the door, and not bothering to get undressed, headed straight to bed. Too fucking exhausted. The blankets were so warm and inviting she didn’t even get her second shoe kicked off before sleep consumed her.

  A very restless night ensued. Horrid dreams filled with visions of Tyr. His brooding face, fits of rage. His toys. Broken furniture, dishes. “You’re mine.” He stroked her cheek with long fingers.

  “Oh God. No!” Grayce woke tangled in sweat-soaked sheets. Tyr dreams were few and far between, but when he did haunt her slumber, it put her in the foulest of moods. After a Tyr dream, it was best to stay home and clear of human contact.

  * * * *

  Grayce spent the morning hours and early afternoon curled up on her secondhand couch. Phone didn’t ring all day. Thank God. Wouldn’t have answered it anyway. By two in the afternoon her stomach growled loud enough to vibrate the sofa. It took some mental cheerleading but she finally forced herself to the kitchen for food. Hmm... Cereal or leftover nachos? She opted for nachos, cold, and settled back into her warm spot on the cushions. By three her ass was asleep and she was considering a shower when her cell buzzed. She wanted to ignore it. A nagging curiosity made her answer.

  “Yeah, what?” She snapped in her grouchiest don’t-fuck-with-me tone.

  “Good afternoon, Grayce. I hope it’s okay I’m calling you.” Shit. Zander.

  “Um, yes. It’s okay. How are you?” Embarrassed by the tremble of her voice, she stumbled to find words. What does one say to an uber-sexy superhero, anyway?

  His voice, deep, throaty and silky smooth, could probably melt the polar ice caps. “I’m sorry I left last night. It was my responsibility to get you home safe.” He paused to clear his throat. “Can I see you today?”

  Whoa, wait a minute cowboy, what? See me? Giddiness crept up her spine and took root in her brain. Grayce didn’t do giddy. “Me? Why?”

  A deep chuckle oozed its way through the phone into her ear, warming her down to her toes. “I would like to see you.”

  No. “Um, okay?”

  He let out a loud sigh of relief. “See you in a sec.”

  In a sec? No, not happening. Before she was able to formulate an escape plan, the doorbell rang. A quick peek in the mirror made her wish she’d showered, or at least brushed her hair. Not a pretty sight. Well, if he didn’t like the view, tough shit. At least her teeth were brushed.

  Of course, Zander looked glorious standing in her doorway. If he’d arrived sporting a halo and backed by a choir of angels, she wouldn’t have blinked twice. Damn, he was radiant.

  To enter, he had to duck and turn sideways because he was so—massive.

  “Hi.” A whisper was all she could manage.

  “I need to know something.” The man exuded sex and power. Confidence, also. Something Grayce had always longed for.

  “What?” Awestricken, Grayce unconsciously took a step back from the mountain of masculinity invading her personal space. Dressed in military style cargo pants and a clingy black t-shirt, he could’ve jumped out of a kick-ass, shoot ‘em up video game, larger than humanly possible and able to survive even a nuclear attack. Fierce. Deadly. Determined.

  With the tap of his heel, the door slammed behind him. His gaze penetrated with such intensity, she froze, captured and completely at his mercy. A heat spread over her cheeks. God, the way he stared, studied, invaded. She hoped like hell he couldn’t read her mind.

  With no warning, she was trapped, arms pinned to her sides, engulfed in his embrace. Surrounded by warm, hard male, Grayce couldn’t move, breathe or think. Without asking permission, he lowered his head and kissed her. No easing into it, just a full blown, toe curling, tongue swirling kiss.

  Much to her dismay, she let him continue.

  There was no pulling away, no revulsion, or escaping to her dark place. Instead, every ounce of her turned to soft mushy goo in his arms. And there it was again—the adrenaline jolt, liquid electricity that jetted through her veins, churned in her abdomen and warmed her from the inside out.

  Blood pumped from her most guarded organ, rushed to her neglected private parts and beat heavy in her ears. A trail of heat followed in the wake of his hands as they slid down her waist and cupped her ass. In one swift move, she was lifted, spun, then pinned to the door with her legs wrapped around his waist. It all happened so fast. He kissed with fervent need. She’d never been kissed like that. Never believed it possible. He took her with carnal hunger, like he was dying of thirst and she was his first drink.

  Unaccustomed to being ravished and uncertain of the proper etiquette in the situation, Grayce could do nothing but grab his shoulders and hold on for the ride. As his hips rolled against her with a subtle rock, a hard erection pressed into the sensitive tissue between her legs, triggering unbidden ripples of pleasure. Oh shit, he wanted sex.

  Reality smacked her like a two
-by-four between the eyes, or the legs rather, and the electricity fizzled. No. She so wasn’t going there. This wasn’t one of her fucked up fantasies. She placed her hands on his chest and tried to push herself from his grip with no effect whatsoever.

  “Stop.” Grayce mumbled through the sweet tortured assault on her mouth. “No. No, I can’t do this, stop.” With a disapproving groan, he released her lips. Eyes closed, he pressed his forehead to hers.

  “I knew it,” he groaned between clenched teeth. Grayce was still pinned to the door. Every nerve ending in her body on fire with his erection shamelessly and unapologetically pressed against her now moist and throbbing special place.

  “What? Knew what?” Grayce gulped and gasped, trying desperately to catch her breath. What the hell? Her cursed body betrayed her again.

  “It’s you. You’re the one. I knew it.” He eased her down the length of his arousal to the floor. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t a very gentlemanly thing to do.” With palms against the door, he braced her between his arms and lowered his head to capture her gaze.

  “I’m lost here. Please, do explain. What did you know?” she asked in a whisper, thankful for being propped against the door so her jiggly legs didn’t collapse. He pushed away from the door, engulfed her trembling hands in his own and led her to the couch.

  * * * *

  “Sit down. Please.” After she obliged, he knelt on one knee at her feet. Even kneeling, he towered over her. Intimidating as hell, but damn she felt safe. One hundred percent safe and protected.

  “Do you believe in fate? Or destiny?”

  Grayce shook her head, not quite sure what to say, or where this conversation was headed. Still reeling from the kiss, she struggled to believe this powerful man who had held her with such tenderness, was here in her apartment. Holy fuck. A man was in her apartment. What was she thinking?

  “I do. I believe in destiny.” His penetrating gaze pierced her fragile soul. “I’ll cut right to the chase.” Tension laced his voice. “I don’t believe you’re a girl who likes to beat around the bush.”

  Damned straight about that one, she thought, and nodded again.

  With a deep inhale, he continued. “I’m different from most people. I’m sure you’ve noticed.” She attempted to speak and he raised a finger to her lips. “I believe humans, but especially people like us, have soul mates, one person we are meant to be with for eternity.”

  People like us? Grayce let free an exasperated giggle. It was too strange hearing words like “soul mates” coming from the man who knelt before her, so big and strong. His eyebrows furrowed. Oh shit. He was serious.

  “You are my soul mate, Grayce. I’ve been searching for so damned long now.” Shoulders slumped, he ran a hand through his scruffy locks. “I can’t even begin to tell you how frustrating it’s been.”

  Grayce’s hands trembled and her head spun. She was pissed. Pissed because of the undeniable attraction to this man and pissed for putting herself in this situation. And why did she want to believe him so badly? God, how could she be so stupid?

  Really? Soul mates? Yeah right. Shit like that never happened in real life. Perfect men didn’t appear out of the blue and kiss a woman like his very existence depended on it. There sure as hell wasn’t a world full of hearts, roses and chocolate truffles where lovers went to live in bliss. Soul mates? Sounded like a pathetic fucking romance movie. Was the word imbecile tattooed across her forehead?

  She fell for that load of crap once. Been paying for it ever since.

  The memory of Tyr’s seduction all those years ago snapped her back to the reality that was her life. “Is this a fucking joke?” She spit. “Did Tyr send you? Did that mother fucking psychopath send you? How the hell did he find me?” Panic bubbled its ascent from gut to brain, stifling her ability to breathe. “Did he think I’d fall for this load of shit?” She punched him hard in the chest. “Ow, dammit.” May as well have been a steel beam.

  “Grayce.” Grabbing her shoulders, he tried to calm her. Electricity passed between them again, angry and violent this time. “Listen to me. This isn’t a joke. I...I...” He shook his head, disbelief etched in his eyes.

  “Oh God, please don’t take me back to him. I’ll do anything. Please.” Full blown panic mode set in. “I have money. It’s not a lot, but you have to understand. I can’t go back.”

  “Listen, nobody sent me. I found you. We found each other. Let me explain, please.” His pathetic attempt at offering comfort only fueled her fire. He reached around to hold her but she squirmed from under his grip, slid to her knees and crawled across the floor. After she’d cleared the dining area, she pushed to her feet, rounded the corner to the kitchen and grabbed her chef’s knife from the counter.

  “Get the hell out of my house.” Did she sound insane? Without a doubt. Could she stop it? No. Emotion had taken over the driver’s seat and steered her straight toward Crazyville. “Get out. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill myself before I let him get near me.” Clumsily, she pointed the knife at him. “I will not go back to that life.” Head throbbing, she wanted to cry, but she couldn’t. Anger held the tears at bay. “No. No! Tell that sick, psychotic piece of shit I’m not running anymore. He can come after me with everything he’s got, but I’m not running anymore.”

  Everything turned red again. A warm glow surrounded her, urged her to continue. “I won’t let him touch me ever again.” Conviction carried that statement through the small apartment. Bravery replaced fear, and damned if it didn’t feel amazing.

  Zander’s demeanor changed in an instant. One second he was pleading and bewildered, the next, he radiated stone cold fury. A burst of heat pulsed through the room. In a flash, they were nose to nose. The blade of the knife bent like putty in his fist and flew across the room. Cupping her cheeks, he growled.

  “Did he hurt you?” He drew jagged breaths. Attempts at freeing herself from his grip were futile. He wouldn’t budge. “Answer my question, Grayce. Did he hurt you?” His hands seared her flesh. Or was it her cheeks burning his hands? Hard to tell.

  “Let go of me. Get the hell out of my house.” She struggled to loosen his grip, to pull heated fingers from her skin, but it was like trying to bend a railway tie. Useless waste of energy.

  He released her, and in a split second was gone. A rush of hot air blew her hair up and across her face. Her cheeks burned. Every inch of her skin was hot. She stammered to the couch, threw herself into the cushions and gave in to a full blown snot and tears meltdown.

  * * * *

  Grayce woke with a jump to a racing heartbeat, spurred by more dreams of the monster. Damn, this had to stop. Peeling her face off the pile of tissues she’d fallen asleep on, she rubbed swollen eyes before she was able to focus on the clock above the television. Thank God, it was only six.

  Letting the shower run extra hot, a luxury she rarely indulged in, Grayce curled in a ball under the soothing water. Brushing a finger lightly across her lips, she closed her eyes and replayed the kiss over and over in her head. No revulsion, no compulsion to punch him, no retreating to her dark place. She stayed present. Wasn’t afraid. Wanted more. How was that possible? If anything, she should be more afraid of him for the mere fact he was impossibly large and fierce.

  Steam billowed around her as she stepped out. She wiped condensation from the mirror and gasped at the sight. Her face glowed where Zander had grasped her cheeks, like she’d spent a day in the sun. She ran her fingers gently across the sensitive skin. They weren’t sore, but they tingled, and when she closed her eyes to picture his hold on her face, she was disappointed by the warming in her lower belly. Oh my fuck.

  Must be getting sick. It was the only logical explanation, because in no known universe would her body react this way to any man. Least of all this beast who could crush Tyr with one strike of his powerful fist. Grind his bones into the pavement.

  Shit. Tyr. Why the nightmares? What’s changed? And what’s with the freak-outs and losing control? Yeah, she was sick, no questi
on about it.

  She cranked the volume on the stereo hoping it would offer distraction from the fear bubbling beneath the surface of her psyche.

  The funny thing about hiding from a monster —at some point, she’d have to strap on boxing gloves and fight for her life or tighten her laces and run like hell. It’d taken her years to realize that running was pointless. Nobody ever really got away, especially from the monsters with money and power. So why run at all? Either way, she’d end up six feet under or wishing she was.

  Grayce had settled in Chastain, Idaho because it was large enough that she could blend in unnoticed, but remote enough that she could disappear into the Bitterroot Mountains in any direction if necessary. It was a quaint town, populated by nature lovers, retired military, celebrities and the few generations of mining families that stuck around after the Gold Greek Mines shut down in the early 1970s. Most of the large homes sat on acres of land, were second or third houses to the rich and famous and sat vacant for months on end. She’d squatted in a few of them until she found a job and decided to stay.

  The town had grown on her and she hated the thought of leaving. So, she had to keep it together, not let Tyr, or memories of him, ruin her life any further. She was staying put, that’s all there was to it.

  Maybe she’d sign up for additional self defense classes. If Tyr did find her, she wanted to fight like hell. She’d probably go down, but fuck it, she’d go down kicking and screaming, hopefully with chunks of his flesh in her hands and teeth.

  Heading for the door, she remembered her car had been left at the gym. “Oh shit!” Her scream to nobody echoed through the small room. Could this day get any worse? She grabbed her phone to call a taxi. A bomb burst inside her ribcage when she noticed a text. From him.

  Your car is outside. Z

  She ran to the window and there it sat, parked outside, just like he said. Holy cow, did he wash it too? It shined. Even the tires were clean. When? How? She ran through the events of the last twenty-four hours in her head. Of course, he must have brought it when he came earlier. Did he steal her keys? How’d he get home afterward? Too much to process. With a huff, she snatched her handbag and headed to work.