She stared up at him, into his azure eyes, and found the reality of her situation there. He gazed at her with kindness, with sympathy, with understanding that unsettled her. She shuddered, suddenly feeling very cold, and tears pooled in her eyes but refused to fall. “This…isn’t a hallucination, is it?” she whispered.
He shook his head slowly, tender compassion turning his eyes a darker shade.
“You’re…really real, aren’t you?”
He nodded, and she bit her bottom lip, feeling lost and terrified, like a little child who had been separated from her parents. And the truth was, that was exactly what had happened, and exactly how she had felt ever since that police officer had come knocking at her door a year ago.
“Wh-What are you?” she asked again, sounding about as small and helpless as she felt. “How did I get here? I want to go home.”
He sighed and reached out to run his hands lightly down her bare arms. “Yes, I imagine that you do. Maybe we can figure this out if we sit down and talk. But before that, can you tell me what your name is?”
Her bottom lip quivered as she looked up at him. “M-Melody,” she said, but it came out sounding more like a wheezing accordion.
His sinful lips turned up at the corners. “Melody…of course it is.” His smile broadened, grew warmer, and she felt herself instinctively trusting him, which was not like her. But kindness radiated from every move of his elegant body. “All right, Melody. Could I interest you in a change of clothing? Something a little less…red?” He gave a soft laugh.
Melody glanced down at her wine-stained shirt and snorted. “Oh geez…I put on a white shirt. What was I thinking putting on a white shirt?” She looked like she had been stabbed repeatedly.
His chuckle was rich and lovely. “Well, I don’t imagine you thought you were going to be traversing the continuum when you chose it.”
That got her attention. “Continuum?” she cried, her voice going up in pitch. “Like, where Q lives?”
He frowned.
“Star Trek?”
The reference was apparently lost on him, if his perplexed look was any indication, so she shook her head. “You mean like the space-time continuum? Did I time travel?”
“Not exactly….”
“Not exactly? What do you mean not exactly?” She was vaguely aware of her voice getting louder again.
“There are dimensions that exist alongside, but are different from your reality,” he tried to explain. To his credit, his voice remained amazingly calm, despite being thrown a strange woman who was on the verge of a psychotic breakdown.
“You mean like a parallel universe?” She was almost shouting, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to take a decent breath. She felt like her airway was squeezing shut and that someone was standing on her chest. “What is this? I was never any good at physics! I’m a musician!” She wheezed in a much too shallow breath and held her arm out to him. “Could you? The wrist?” She shook it at him. “Because I think I’m going to have the biggest panic attack ever if you don’t.”
He immediately took her hand gently in his and began to trail his fingers back and forth across her wrist. A small amount of calm returned to her, but it didn’t chase all of the fear away. Her mind spun like a cracked-out roller coaster that had lost its brakes.
She ran her free hand through her hair and noticed how badly it was shaking. “Am I even on Earth anymore? Am I in outer space?”
He laughed softly. “You’re not on another planet. You just managed to cross over into my world somehow, which I did not realize was a possibility until tonight. The music must have opened up a gateway of some kind, a bridge between the two of us.” He shook his head. “I have known of muses who were able to travel into your reality, but I have never known of a human to come here.”
“So what does that mean?” she all but yelled. “And what exactly is a muse anyway?” She sounded on the verge of hysteria. Actually, she was on the verge of hysteria. “This is so not what I had planned for tonight,” she rambled. “I was going to drink, play some music that intrigued me, and let myself fantasize a little bit about some random guy I happened to see when I played it. I did not expect to end up in some sub-genre of reality with—”
“Fantasize? About a man you saw when you played? If I’m following your story correctly, that man was me.” He cocked an eyebrow in a playful, all too sexy gesture. “You were going to fantasize about me?”
Melody felt her cheeks flame, and that horrendous lost and isolated feeling came back with a vengeance. “That really wasn’t what I meant.” Her shoulders slumped, and she wanted to crawl into the nearest dark space and go to sleep, hoping that when she woke up, she would be out of this rabbit hole. “The wrist thing really isn’t working this time,” she said, hating how pitiful her voice sounded.
He let out a soft sigh and took her by the shoulders. “Melody, allow me to do something? It may help calm your nerves. But you need to stop thinking so much and listen to me.”
She looked up into his eyes and studied the fantastic features of his face. Strong, chiseled, masculine features, yet with a subtle elegance that made him look ethereal and mythical…which she supposed made sense. What she loved the most was the benevolence radiating from his blue eyes. She detected no malice, no ill intent whatsoever. He was being infinitely patient and so careful not to frighten her more than she already was.
She forced a long, shaky exhale past her lips and nodded. “Please.”
He stepped closer, slowly, deliberately, making no sudden movements that might startle her. He kept his eyes on hers, gauging her reaction while, with gentle certainty, he guided her into the circle of his arms.
Melody was startled at first, having not expected that, but as he pulled her to him and his arms closed around her, warmth unlike anything she had ever experienced enveloped her. This time, she did not hear the soothing sounds of nature. Instead, she heard beautiful, enchanting music. Soft, sonorous notes of such perfection that everyone in the orchestra she had once been in would have been envious. She heard instruments of all kinds—strings, wind, brass—all weaving a wondrous rhapsody that eased the frayed edges of her frazzled, overwrought nerves.
Her eyes slipped closed as she let the music fill her mind, and the strength of his body lent her the support she so desperately needed in that moment. She leaned into him without thinking, her cold, lonely heart starving for the warmth he offered.
“Shhh,” he whispered as he smoothed his hand down the length of her hair. “I know you are frightened, and bewildered, but you are safe here. Nothing will harm you. I promise.”
His voice made shivers dance throughout her, and his constant touch and the contact of his body made the music in her mind continue, melting away all of her apprehension and terror. Tentatively, she wrapped her arms around his waist, surrendering to his embrace, and rested her cheek against his heart. The beat of it reminded her of a thunderous drum.
“I’m going to get your shirt all gross with wine,” she said, because for some reason, that was very important to her at the moment.
His laughter was wonderful, and his arms tightened around her ever so slightly. “I don’t care one bit about my shirt,” he stated.
“I probably smell like a winery exploded.” He, on the other hand, smelled like cedar and violin rosin. To anyone else, it might not have mattered at all, but to her, it was the world’s most amazing smell. “Please, tell me what you are.” At that moment, standing within his embrace as she was, with his caring reassurance and the music in her mind, she did not fear the answers quite as much.
“I told you. I am a muse.” His words were hushed, his voice barely above a mumbled whisper, and he continued to drag his fingers through her hair in a calming gesture.
“But I don’t know what that means.”
“Muses inspire humans to create. There are many different kinds of muses. Muses who create stories, muses who inspire poetry, or lyrics, or art.”
“And what kin
d are you?”
“I am a musical muse.”
She smiled. “Well, that makes sense. Is that why I hear music when you touch me?”
“Yes. I control all elements of music. It exists within me. Even the music of nature itself. I can draw upon it and share it with you. That is how we help humans create.”
“Did you know the woman who wrote that music I played?” She moved away enough to be able to look up at his face. “Did you inspire her to write that? Is that how it’s all connected?”
A shadow passed over his features and his eyes grew sad. “She did not write that,” he said.
Melody frowned. “She didn’t?”
He shook his head. “No…I did.”
She sucked in a surprised breath, but had a small moment of elation within herself. She had known when the girl from the sale had told her who the composer was that it hadn’t felt right. And looking at the woman on the computer hadn’t convinced her. When she’d played, when she’d heard Liron playing, the baleful notes had sounded like they were coming straight from his soul and were calling to hers. “But you know who she was?”
The light that had been in his eyes up to that point vanished and he looked away. “Yes. I did. She was my wife.”
Melody’s eyes widened. “Your wife?”
He nodded and met her gaze again. He gave her a smidgen of a smile, but she could tell even that much was forced. “If you think you are calm enough now, I will take you to where you can change into something dry. After that, we will have a conversation. All right?”
She agreed, feeling much more stabilized, if not any less confused. Her curiosity was beginning to take over where her panic had been, and now that she knew she was in this strange place, freaking out about it wasn’t going to do her any good. It was disconcerting, sure, to suddenly find out that the world was not what she thought it was, but while she was stuck there, she may as well learn what she could about muses, and alternate realities, space travel…whatever it all was.
And especially about the handsome, sad man who filled her whole being with music.
Chapter Five
“You really do live in a castle?” Melody queried as he motioned for her to go first down the stone staircase that led to his bedroom.
He couldn’t help but smile at her wide-eyed expression. The poor woman still looked utterly terrified. He couldn’t blame her, really. This whole situation was completely strange, even for him, and he was very aware of alternate dimensions. “It’s a little small to be a castle, but fashioned the same.” He held his hand out, indicating that they were supposed to go down. “My bedroom is at the end of the staircase. I will give you a change of clothes.”
She didn’t seem the least bit interested in going down into the dimly lit passage, but she did so anyway. He allowed himself the pleasure of appraising her while they descended the staircase. She was very lovely, if slightly haphazard at the moment. Her hair was a beautiful honey-golden shade and it fell in wild waves around her shoulders, tangled from running her fingers through it so many times. She was wearing a snug, white sleeveless shirt and some gray pants that hugged the gentle curves of her slender body.
The way his body had instantly blazed to life with attraction for her the second he had seen her surprised him. He had been a cold, dormant chasm of nothingness for so long he’d figured Elizabeth had robbed him of any passion he’d once possessed. But something about Melody, complete stranger that she was, called out so strongly to him. Maybe it was the vulnerability he’d seen reflected in her pale blue eyes, the lost, terrified look that made him want to fold her up in his arms until she felt safe. Or maybe it was the fact that, despite being scared out of her mind, she had trusted him, leaned upon him, needed his protection and his care, regardless of the fact that he was something foreign to her, something odd and frightening. He didn’t know if there had been a time in the past when someone had needed or wanted his protection. Elizabeth certainly never had.
He couldn’t shake the memory of how Melody had felt in his arms, pressed against him with so much faith that he had not earned and did not rightly deserve. He’d been alone for so long; not creating, not inspiring, barely even existing. A human woman had somehow gotten a hold of his music, and for reasons he didn’t quite understand, had managed to open a gateway into his world. And for other reasons he didn’t understand, she had reached out to him. Whether she had believed she was dreaming or not, she had reached out to him all the same.
Melody swore suddenly as she stumbled on one of the stairs and caused a bit of a racket as she tried to catch herself. At the bottom of the staircase, there was some rustling before a large, winged thing flew up the corridor. It narrowly missed Melody and she screamed, throwing her arms over her head and crashing into Liron’s body as if he was her escape route.
His arms went around her, and he grunted as she knocked him back into the wall. He winced with the force of her bansheelike shriek, but warmth exploded along the surface of his skin where she was pressed.
She gasped and peeked out from under her arms. “Oh my gosh, was that a bat?” she murmured. “Like a real, live bat?”
Liron grimaced as her voice started to take on that hysterical, shrill tone once again. “That was Siegfried,” he answered.
She looked up at him, not moving out of his arms. “Siegfried?”
He nodded. “My falcon. He sleeps down here. We must have startled him.”
“You have a pet falcon?”
He shrugged. “Not a pet so much as a companion.”
She stared at him for several silent moments before she let out a shout laden with exasperation. “As if my nerves weren’t shot enough!” she cried. “This night sucks!”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Well, I can’t say that I find it completely deplorable.” He reached his hand up to smooth several out of control strands of her hair, tucking one of them behind her ear.
Melody met his gaze and drew in a soft breath. Color stained her cheeks as she grasped his meaning and she looked down shyly, but didn’t move away from him. In fact, she seemed to curl into him even more, her soft body molding against his. If he had no other moments in his life, he would have gladly remained in that one forever, standing in his dreary hallway, holding her against him, basking in the warmth that surged through him at her nearness. It was the only warmth he had felt in so very long.
“Are there any other creatures I need to know about?” she asked. “Bats, birds? Vampires, werewolves, goblins, ghouls, ghosts?”
“No bats or birds,” he replied. “And I made sure the vampires, werewolves, and all other paranormal creatures were safely locked in the dungeon, so they should be of no trouble to you.” Her alarmed expression made him chuckle, which, in turn, caused her to break into a small, shy smile. He grinned and touched her cheek with his forefinger. “Ah, she smiles. Finally.”
Her bashful smile grew broader, and she giggled a little.
Liron found the sound of her laughter to be the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. His gaze focused on her full, luscious lips, and he lightly ran his finger along the bottom one. “A woman with a mouth like yours should always smile.”
Her cheeks reddened, and she dipped her head to avoid looking at him. She let out a long sigh and shook her head. “You must think I’m completely insane.”
He frowned slightly. “Stop saying that. I have not once thought that.”
She glanced back up at him, faint surprise mirrored in her eyes. “You haven’t? But I invaded your house, from a different dimension no less. I screamed at you. I had a spaz attack, and then I screamed at you some more.”
“Under the circumstances, I believe you had that right,” he replied. He took in the delicate, soft planes of her face, the gentle curve of her throat and neck. “And, trust me, your presence here is anything but an invasion, Melody.” Her gaze locked on his, her eyes full of wonder even though there were still traces of understandable apprehension. And beyond that, underneath the
emotions brought about by the current situation, he detected a profound pain and loneliness not unlike his own. It tugged at the deepest roots of his heart, and he was swamped by the most overwhelming urge to hold her, protect her, show her the gentleness and compassion he himself had been denied for so long. It was wrong that someone else should have to endure the emptiness that he had. Especially someone as lovely as her.
Tearing his eyes away from hers, he forced his thoughts back to the task at hand. Staring at her like that would no doubt do nothing to make her feel any more at ease. “Shall we continue?” he queried. Then, unable to help himself, said, “Unless you want to stand here in the stairwell clutching onto me all night, which I admit, I am not completely opposed to.”
“Oh.” The word came out in a rushed breath, and she pushed away from him with another attractive blush.
He smiled and held his hand out to her. “Come. I will lead you.”
She looked relieved and put her hand in his with no hesitation. He tried not to notice the warmth and softness of her fingers as he continued down the stairs and then the hall to his bedroom, but he lost that battle. He tried to remember if there had ever been a time when Elizabeth had held his hand, but he couldn’t recall one. He’d never thought something so simple could be so wonderful.
He opened the door to his bedroom and pulled her inside. He lit several candles, as it was completely dark, and got a shirt out from his wardrobe. “I imagine this will be a bit large for you, but it’s all I have,” he said as he handed the clothing to her. “There hasn’t been a woman here in a very long time.”
Melody took the shirt from him and clutched it to her chest. “It’s fine, thank you. I’m not picky.”
He smiled and gave her a small nod. “I will leave you to change.” He pivoted on his heel.
“Wait!”
Her cry stopped him in his tracks, and he turned back to face her. The concern on her face twisted his heart.
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