She slapped the mug onto the counter, and again, her tone was snappish. “I’m fine, and I appreciate all that you’ve done. But, I’d like to be alone now. It’s been a long night.”
A knife couldn’t cut the tension.
“Alright, if that’s the case then, I’ll go,” he said stiffly. “And I’ll be keeping a watch out, too. If it makes you feel any better to know, I’m a private investigator.”
Her face softened. “You’re a private investigator?”
Just something more that made him appealing, dangerous, and sexy.
“One of the best in the city---at least that’s what my clients maintain,” he said with a deep chuckle. “I’m taking them at their word.”
At his masculine laughter, her heartbeat quickened.
Flushing, she steeled herself.
Why was she so attracted to him, she fretted.
She hardly even knew him!
“Well, thanks for the coffee.”
Especially attuned to him now, she sensed when he stood.
“It’s the least I can do,” she said, following behind him, and within moments, they’d reached the door. The waiting officer nearly stumbled as she wrenched it open. “I’m so sorry.” Her face flamed hot. In her haste, she’d forgotten the officer was even there!
Perhaps her reaction to her sexy neighbor was too obvious!
“No problem, ma’am,” Officer Peters remarked, stepping away, leaving them with some privacy.
She turned towards him. “Thank you, again.”
“I was more than happy to help,” he muttered, moving past her onto the hallway. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” she said, closing the door.
Still, she didn’t stray from it.
Pressing her ear to the door, she listened.
His strong voice penetrated past the thick wood as he talked with the officer, but still, their words weren’t decipherable. Later, she heard when he treaded to his own apartment, and then, she was left with silence.
Releasing a pent-up sigh, she leaned against the door.
Mr. Sullivan was definitely all hot, manly testosterone.
But, what did that mean in her world, she mulled, moving away.
Minutes later, she was nestled under the soft, bedding covers again.
Then, another unsettling thought occurred.
How did Xander get in?
The answer eluded her as she fell asleep.
***
The pale moonlight danced across her soft features as she turned onto her side. She whimpered softly as the satin sheet dropped to her waist.
Standing alongside the bed, Xander studied her closely.
Beautiful innocence…
And he had the power to steal the very life from her body, he thought guiltily.
Slowly, he turned away, and his long strides carried him towards the bedroom’s, outside alcove. Careful not to awaken her, he gently pushed the glass door open. He stepped out before glancing around. The furnishings were quaint and delicate. A silver vase adorned the small white table while a matching chair with flowery designs was shoved under it.
He looked up.
A thin narrow roof covered it as the green foliage flowed from the artificial cactus hanging overhead. Slowly, he inched towards the wide railing before peering below.
On this side of the apartment, the parking lot was wide and spacious. And now, the moonlight danced across the unoccupied vehicles, including his fully loaded, black European sports car and customized SUV.
He inhaled a whiff of the night air.
Again, he detected nothing but clean city air.
And hopefully, the crazed vamp wouldn’t show up again.
At least not tonight.
But, still, instincts warned him that he lingered close by.
And if he tried anything again tonight, he would be here to stop him. And this time he wouldn’t make the grave mistake of letting him live.
The moon peeked from behind the clouds, and the moonlight slanted across the sky like a wide beam. Suddenly, the illustrious glow shone brightly on his face. Somehow, within the realms of the heavens, a voice from his world spoke from beyond.
“The forbidden one---your human bride...She breathes within these walls. Claim her as yours.”
“What?” he whispered in surprise, staring back at the moon. “How is it even possible that you’re speaking this to me?”
“She’s yours….she’s yours…claim her before the storm of darkness does…”
The words were enough to stir him. Dazed, he stumbled back into her bedroom, and seconds later, he was standing over her again.
He stared down at her.
Still, she was sound asleep.
His thoughts scattered again.
How was it possible that this earthly creature was his chosen one?
For years, Princeton had claimed that he’d find his soul mate, and when he did, he’d realized instantly that she was the one. Immediately, he was assailed with a fierce need to protect her. “No,” he whispered, sliding his gaze over her sleeping form. “I will not destroy you.”
But, how could he protect his broken angel from the danger that he posed?
Chapter 2
As the faint sunlight filtered through the thin drapes, she frowned against it before finally awakening. Blinking groggily, she came up in the bed and then fell back against the pillows.
She shivered.
Had last night been a nightmare?
The cold awareness seeped through her.
No, it’d been all too real.
Her lingering fear was proof of that.
As soon as the lights went out, the stranger had haunted her dreams, holding her hostage throughout the dark nightmare. Even now, her helpless cries seemed to echo against the walls.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Like a camera’s shutter, flashbacks of the horrible ordeal snapped through her mind as the stranger’s sinister presence invaded it.
He’d been demented.
Diabolical…
And dare she say it…
Unnatural…
It was if he didn’t fit nor had any place in the earthly world.
But in her dreams, an intense entity had overshadowed him, immediately allaying her fears. Then, peacefulness had washed over her as she’d finally drifted into a slumber.
Of course, her sexy neighbor had brought an entire different feel to her evening. Even now, his deep masculine tone awakened a flurry of sensations within her. Shamefully, even she had to admit an immediate attraction to the man. A dangerous mysterious aura surrounded him, and it excited her beyond reasoning.
“Xander,” she murmured.
A warm flush spread along her face.
Heaven help her, even his name was sexy!
And he exuded all the qualities of her secret, fantasy lover.
Strong…handsome…brooding.
Her heartbeat quickened.
Did he look just as she envisioned him?
Tall, muscular, dark-haired---
Suddenly, Macy bounded onto the bed, and as she did, the mattress sagged downward to bear the dog’s weight. Giving a soft whine, the dog nudged her.
“Out of sorts, too, huh?” she sighed. “You know what, Macy? I am a complete and total idiot. A man like Xander Sullivan is forever out of my reach, and I should have the common sense to know that. But, there’s no shame is wishing is there?” she murmured, but then smiled. “Well, guess what? We are not going to waste a beautiful Saturday morning.”
Nor was she about to become a prisoner because some crazy oddball had lost his wits, she frowned, leaving the bed.
After rummaging through the closet for several minutes, she chose her attire for the day: jeans and a turtleneck sweater.
Moments later, she was dressed, and then thought to offer coffee to Officer Peters. At his appointed time, he departed, leaving her to face the challenges of the day.
The cool briskness greeted her as she
stepped from the apartment building. She pulled the coat’s collar more securely about her as she inhaled the crisp Atlanta air. While it was just a few minutes past 9:00 am, the city streets were already bustling with activity.
She shoved on the sunglasses and then grasped Macy’s leash with a firm hand. A doughnut and a warm cup of cappuccino from the Java Spot was just what she needed to jumpstart the day. As the minutes passed, she made her way down 22nd Street, and Macy’s strides quickened as they immersed within the crowd.
Moments later, she was breezing past Tizzy’s Barbershop. Probably, the red, white, and blue sign was spinning in dizzying colors along the side of the barbershop. The well-kept shop was so reminiscent of the days of sock hops and wide, poodle shagged skirts of another golden era.
The next turn was a sharp left onto Buckler’s Avenue.
Her steps quickened as the bells jingled at the next shop, and she could hear the door as it creaked open. Soon, a musty odor pervaded the air. Tensing, keeping her face averted, she attempted to move past.
The woman’s tone was sharp as she called from the doorway. “Nicole!”
Just great, she muttered under her breath, tightening her hold on the dog’s leash. A run-in with Atlanta’s wackiest psychic was the last thing that she needed!
“Are you interested in a reading today, dear girl?” the old woman inquired creepily as the door slammed behind her. Her steps were almost soundless as she moved closer.
“Not today, Charity, but thanks,” she said, not able to deter her irritation, and kept walking.
She wasn’t up to the woman’s meddling today!
But, it was obvious that Charity had a different idea, and she had no choice but to stop as the woman stepped before her, blocking her path.
Sensing her agitation, Macy snarled under her breath.
“Macy, it’s okay. She’s just saying hello,” she said, bending over as she petted her. Her spine stiffened as she straightened. “I would appreciate that you not take such a confrontational position, Charity. It’s not good for any of us, especially Macy.”
As she moved, Charity’s large bangles jingled like chimed music, and her next words were odd. “I’m not the one you should fear. Calm yourself.”
And just what did she mean by that, Nicole frowned, tensing again.
But, then wasn’t everything about Charity, well, strange?
According to many, even the woman’s appearance itself was an oddity. If she were to go by her general descriptions, she was dressed strangely even today. The eccentric woman’s black, gray-peppered hair was probably standing on its end and a huge, shapeless dress undoubtedly swathed her tall, waspish figure.
At least that’s how she’d been described to her.
Often times, she’d questioned her judgment in befriending the woman.
When they’d first met, she’d seemed lonely and harmless enough. That is, until her prophecies of impending doom had centered on her. At first, she’d laughed off the woman’s uncanny assumptions. But, now after one uneventful turn after the next, she fearfully had to admit that she hadn’t been wrong.
As a matter of fact, she’d been spot-on!
Nothing had turned out right for her, she realized with discernment.
Granted, Charity could easily be labeled eccentric and that was a given.
But, here lately, their encounters had been just too……
Well, weird.
And last night had certainly presented enough weirdness for her already.
“Please accept my apologies, Charity. But, I have a full schedule,” she said with false brightness, tugging on Macy’s leash. “And, unfortunately, we must be on our way. Maybe some other ---”
The psychic hooked an arm with hers. Then, she sighed with regret. “The surgery didn’t go well, I take it.”
Stunned, she barely suppressed the cold shiver.
How did the old woman know about that?
She certainly hadn’t mentioned it to her!
“Your darkness will prevail only a short while longer. So, bear it with good heart, young woman. Lightness shall guide your day and destiny before long.”
She shook her head in denial. “No. This is the way my life is meant to be, and I’m finally accepting it.”
“Nicole, you can’t give up. And this is not the end! An even greater fight awaits you, and you must be ready!” the old woman snapped before pulling her along. “And I don’t want you caught off-guard. Come with me. There are some things I must warn you about!”
“Macy and I really must be going,” she protested, but still she followed behind her.
And why was she so fascinated with Charity’s latest prophecy?
It was so perplexing.
“Don’t fret, child. I won’t take much of your time. And I’m sure that the Java Spot will have that cup of cappuccino and doughnut fresh for you when you get there,” Charity claimed, her short steps quickening. “I fear that I can’t withhold this information much longer. It’s too unsettling!”
As her eyes widened, the uncanny feeling swept over her. She didn’t know if she liked the sound of any of this! Still, she followed the woman into the shop.
Then, more confusion marred her features.
How had she known that she was heading to the Java Spot anyway?
The stale, musty odor assailed her senses as they stepped in and soon hard coughs racked her body.
“Authenticity does come with some drawbacks, I’m afraid,” the psychic apologized quickly as she wheezed from the dust particles. “And unfortunately, freshness is not an attribute in this place.”
Nodding, she followed behind her.
Soon, fabric rustled as Charity pushed the heavy, velour curtain aside.
Finally, they entered the dimmed parlor.
Grumbling under her breath, Macy bumped against her.
“Here,” she muttered distractedly, extracting a snack from her large, shoulder bag. After snagging the treat from her hand, Macy wolfed it down greedily.
She nearly started when the woman’s hands landed on her shoulders.
With ease, Charity pushed her down onto the chair, and her odd voice echoed in the hollow room. “I have some treats in the back for her, if you’d like.”
“No thanks,” she interjected. “I have more than enough for her.”
Probably, Macy would be flying around the room after feasting on one of Charity’s mysterious snacks! Or worse, she’d morph into a creature of the unknown!
She rummaged through her bag, finally dragging out the small satchel of dog treats that she kept on hand. Leaning over, she opened it before placing it on the floor beside her chair. Macy nudged her hand before crunching on the chicken-flavored snack.
Finally, she straightened as she turned and slipped her shoulder bag onto the back of the wooden chair. Sensing Charity’s presence, she scooted the chair closer to the wobbly table, and her knees brushed against the thin uneven covering trailing to the floor.
The woman sat down across from her.
“Where’s the crystal ball?” she cracked with a nervous laugh. “This little impromptu meeting is incomplete without one.”
Obviously, her lame joke had fallen flat, she mulled, especially considering that the old psychic stayed silent.
A strange eeriness seeped through her.
She’d give anything to see what occupied the woman’s kooky parlor! Would she find severed heads, love potions, and other wild things? Then, again maybe she didn’t want to see her immediate surroundings.
As the clock ticked in the musty smelly room, the tension thickened. Am I clearly off my rocker because of last night, she mulled, drumming her fingers against the table lightly. Better yet, why was she even considering the far-fetched ramblings from a faux fortune-teller as factual?
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good---”
“Hush!” the psychic said in a breathless whisper, leaning closer to the table. “Don’t speak now! It isn’t safe. Stay silent---at least unti
l he passes!”
Things were getting too crazy. “This may not be a good idea after--”
Startled, she jumped when the old woman slapped the table.
“Shhhh,” the woman said with a hint of annoyance. “Just do as I say!”
Bewildered, she smoothed the edges of her sleek ponytail with shaky hands.
Had the psychic lost her grip on reality?
But, even her anticipation was mounting with each passing minute, she thought dizzily as she stilled. Of what, she didn’t know. “Oh!” she exclaimed, startled again, her eyes widening when the psychic pounded the table.
“Be gone with you!” the old woman seethed, swaying from side to side, riddling out an indecipherable chant. “You have no right to be here!”
Definitely time to go!.
She pushed away from the table.
“He’s gone!” Relieved, Charity slumped over the table. “Forgive me, Nicole. I don’t mean to frighten you. But, my aura is in huge disagreement with an outside entity. For now, I’m able to sustain myself against him. But, not for much longer, I’m afraid.”
“O-oh,” she stuttered, not knowing what else to say. “Okay.”
If anything, she cursed her inability to read the woman’s facial expression!
Maybe it was a good thing that she couldn’t.
Her words were strange enough already!
“All is well. All is well,” the psychic repeated as she straightened. “Give me your hands.”
A deep frown marred her features. “Why?”
“Relax. Trust me, Nicole. You’re safer here with me than anywhere. Now, be a good girl and extend your hands,” the old woman chided. “A fresh reading is necessary to ensure that my aura isn’t obscured.”
Though hesitant, she extended her hands. “Alright,” she agreed. “If you believe so.”
The psychic grasped them firmly, and her deep gasp escaped. “It’s just as I suspected!” Mumbling unintelligibly, Charity turned her left palm upward, tracing along its fine ridges and lines. “I sense heartbreak and bitter disappointment. And now, you feel that no hope remains.”
She kept her face straight.
That was a generic comment if she’d ever heard one!
Pure classic, bait and hook tactic.
Dragon Reign: A Paranormal Love Tale Page 4