She grabbed the bag. “Be my guest.”
Busying herself, she worked to put things away, and soon his footsteps faded as he reached the living room. Pausing, she released a pent-up breath.
The man was simply…
Intoxicating.
If she weren’t careful, he’d realize how she felt!
Moments later, she’d finished putting away the groceries.
After deciding on making finger sandwiches, she pulled the smoked ham, lettuce, and tomatoes from the refrigerator. To finish the meal, she took the pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge. Minutes later, satisfied that things were in order, she ventured to the living room’s entryway. Again, shyness filled her. “I hope you’re hungry. I’ve thrown together a little lunch---just some finger sandwiches and tea. And I’m not taking no for answer.”
Flustered, she turned away.
As his footsteps treaded behind her, her tension ebbed.
At least for once, she was doing something for him.
Again, a comfortable silence fell over them as they ate.
Moments later, after they’d finished, she thought of her earlier antics. Taking an unsteady breath, she broached the subject. “Look, Xander, about this morning---”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s over and done with.”
“But, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. I’m not some self-centered---”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he interrupted.
So, how did he view her, she mulled.
“We hardly know each other,” she said quietly.
His tone was dark and sexy. “And in the short time that we have, there are many things that I’ve noticed about you.”
“Like what?” she asked with bated breath.
“That you’re strong, independent, courageous---”
“In other words, boring,” she broke in.
“Boring,” he said with a short laugh. “That’s the furthest thing from the truth.”
Face flaming hot, she looked away.
Exactly what did she want him to say?
That she was beautiful?
Arresting?
Unforgettable?
Kicking herself mentally, she took a healthy swig of the sweet tea.
Xander eyed her above the glass’s rim.
How about passionate, arresting, unforgettable?
Those words rested on the tip of his tongue.
But, he couldn’t say them.
If he did, it would scare the living daylights out of her.
How could he say that she was so beautiful that she literally knocked the breath from his lungs? Or that, for the first time, a woman actually made him tremble?
No, that would be too forthright.
And, he would be crossing boundaries that he swore he wouldn’t cross.
No, it was best to play it safe. “Nicole---”
Brows furrowed in concentration, she pushed her plate back. “You can stop there. It was a stupid question anyway,” she muttered, obviously disappointed with his response. “Have you had enough, or do I need to fix more?”
“No, I’ve had plenty.”
After sliding from the bar stool, she reached for the dirty plates, and when she stacked them together, they clattered so loud that he feared they’d break.
“Let me help you---” he started, standing up.
“No,” she stated abruptly, clearing her throat. “I don’t need any help.”
“Ok,” he murmured, throwing his hands up.
With ease, she crossed the room to the sink. After rinsing the plates, she placed them in the dishwasher before starting it.
Again, the admiration speared through him.
Not even he could maneuver around his apartment so easily. “How do you do it?” he asked openly.
Frowning, sweeping past him, she grabbed the tea from the counter. “How do I do what?’
“I’m impressed with how---”
“Being blind doesn’t mean that I’m an invalid,” she said, cutting him off. “And the last thing I want is for you to think I am. I’ve always taken care of myself and I always will. I learned a long time ago that when the chips are down, not too many people will be standing there alongside you. Unfortunately, I learned that the hard way.”
Crossing his arms along his chest, he studied her closely. “That chip on your shoulder has to be hard to carry around sometimes,” he noted, watching as she wiped furiously at the already clean glasses that she’d removed from the dish drainer. “Why don’t you drop it for a change?”
“Has it ever occurred to you that I’m sick and tired of people asking me questions all of the time? I’m sick to death of them. And I don’t want your pity.”
Again, she didn’t hide her anger as she turned away.
Working fast, she placed the glasses on the draining tray.
Then, she faced him again.
But, his anger matched hers. “Is that what you think this is---pity?”
Her face grew hot again. “What else could it be? Why have you followed me around all day long? You feel sorry for me, and I can’t stand that!”
“There you go again, jumping to conclusions,” he snapped, his own temper rising. “As always, you’re assuming things that are completely false.”
Didn’t she know how captivating she was?
If his circumstances were different, he’d…..
But, they weren’t, he quickly reminded himself.
“No, I’m stating the apparent truth. Since you’ve met me, you have felt nothing but obligation towards me,” she said, her voice thickening with tears. “I don’t want your heartfelt pity or your empathy. You can take it and shove---”
“Has it even occurred to you that I’ve enjoyed your company?” he demanded, and finally, his frustration broke free. “What man in his right mind wouldn’t want to spend time with you? You’re smart, beautiful, captivating among many other things! And a man would be a damned fool not to know it!”
Stopping short, breathing fast, he was shocked at his admission.
A deep flush stained her features. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, that’s a first,” he said, combing a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t want you to think that I pity you because I don’t. Do you understand me?
“Yes,” she said. “Xander---”
He turned on his heel abruptly. “I have to go. I’m meeting a client at my office, and I don’t want to be late. Thanks for lunch.”
Not waiting to see if she followed, he walked away.
Damn it, he berated himself.
He’d revealed too much.
But, more than that, a personal relationship between them was out of the question. He was an immortal…damned to this world…he had no rights to a real future.
She deserved better than that.
In fact, she deserved the best.
Starting, she heard as he left the kitchen, and then quickly, she followed behind him. Once they reached the living area, she spoke. “Xander, wait.” A blush spread from her nape on up her face. “I’m sorry if I provoked you. I didn’t mean to make you angry or anything.”
“Nicole, I’m not angry. But, I never want you to think less about yourself or let any one make you feel inferior.”
“I know. And I’m sorry for blowing everything out of proportion,” she murmured apologetically. Then, a half-smile reached her lips. “I suppose we’re fast on our way to becoming friends.”
“Guess so,” he quipped tightly. “If you ever need anything, I’m here.”
“Be careful, I just may take you up on your offer,” she said gently, extending her hand. As he grasped it, she held her breath. “Thanks again.”
“I’ll see you around, Nicole. Goodbye.”
With that, he dropped her hand.
“Goodbye,” she nodded.
Seconds later, the door closed behind him.
Slowly, she sank down onto the sofa as realization dawned.
Already
, he was stealing tiny pieces of her heart.
***
A half-hour later, Xander found himself facing the psychic’s shop. Only this time he was alone.
After leaving Nicole’s apartment, he’d remained obscured in the shadows, following her until she’d made it to the rehearsal hall safely.
And now, here he was.
He scanned the faded, yellow lettering on the sign overhead.
Hidden Secrets.
Typical cryptic language, he frowned, noticing the colorfully, designed crystal ball painted alongside the huge, block letters.
But, too much about the old woman rang true.
Bracing himself, he grasped the door’s handle.
No shocks.
No heat.
Nothing.
Then, he found himself staring at the old woman through the glass.
Giving a cold stare, she pushed the door open.
Jaw tightening, he stepped in.
With a soft thud, the door closed behind him.
After locking it, the old woman pulled down the ragged bamboo shade.
Finally, the psychic turned to face him.
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” Xander warned, turning away from her. “And it’ll be in Nicole’s best interest if you’d keep your mouth shut.”
He glanced around the shop.
All kinds of mystical devices and apparatus cluttered the tiny shop, and his gaze even fell upon an Ouija board in the far corner.
Spices and potions were scattered wildly upon an overhead shelf, and a few of them were opened, leaving an odd foreign odor in the tiny shop.
“I underestimated you, unfortunately,” the psychic said in a surprisingly strong voice. “From your tone, I can digress that you’ve taken things a bit too far.”
“And how so?” he asked, quirking his brow.
“I believe you already have the answer to that.”
With carefulness, he fingered the tiny, odd-shaped ball on the heavily laden tray. Lifting it to his eye, he peered through its tiny hole. Then, he nearly dropped it in shock. Tiny, white light lassoed in its center before converging at its focal point, and a small image formed, shocking him to his core.
Nicole.
“Ah,” the old woman speculated with a soft chuckle. “I’m assuming that your hidden desire has been revealed to you.” Swiping it from his hands, she placed it back onto the tray. “Call me, Charity. There’s no point in formalities since we have such serious matters to discuss, Xander.”
Tensing further, he followed behind her.
She knew too damned much.
As the silence deepened, they passed a dimly lit parlor. A heavy velour curtain draped it, and obviously the area was where she conducted business. A moment later, they entered what appeared to be her private living quarters.
And it was apparent that she loved obscurity, he thought, noticing the dimly lit lamps hanging from the low ceiling.
As she walked across the room, Charity’s long, black dress swept the cement floor. Then, she inclined her head toward the outdated furniture. “Please, have a seat. Can I offer you anything?”
The old woman moved toward the small, open kitchenette.
Glancing around, he said in a gruff tone. “No thanks.”
“Please sit down. I will only be a moment.”
The psychic grabbed the coffee pot from the counter. Slowly, she poured steaming, hot coffee into a mug. But, strangely, she just placed it down onto the counter.
Her eyes were wild and off-centered as she returned.
“Don’t you have any guilt bilking money from all these poor idiots,” he snapped angrily, sliding into the tattered, leather chair that faced a matching sofa.
“At times I tend to feel guilt,” she admitted. The badly, tattered sofa sagged as she sank down onto it. “But, it’s no fault of mine that they’re not able to assess the difference between fantasy and reality. The blame rests squarely on their shoulders.”
Leaning back in the chair, he gave a curt laugh. “I suppose that’s easy to say when you’re not on the receiving end. But, I won’t allow you to take advantage of Nicole any longer. Stay away from her.”
“Take advantage of Nicole?” she gasped, surprised. “I would never do such a thing! I have grown quite fond of her actually. And I only have her best interests at heart!” Her next words were edged with coldness. “But, that’s the least that I can say about you. Yet, my aura tells me that I’m wrong.”
“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demanded, sitting up higher in the chair. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong,” the old psychic said bravely as she stood. “I know everything about you---which is why I have to warn Nicole!”
“Nicole doesn’t need to hear any more of your sick madness. Don’t you know that you scare her?” he said, and deep anger clipped his words. “You are a sick, old demented woman, and you have no business spreading false truths.”
“False truths?” Charity mimicked strangely, closing her eyes. Her gray, peppered hair stood on its end, but seemed to sway as she turned in a full circle. Gold and silver-plated bangles dangled from both wrists, and she even had both nostrils pierced. Madness gleamed in her strangely green hued eyes as they popped open.
Eccentric, he scoffed to himself.
That didn’t even begin to cover it.
“False truths,” she repeated again. Then, her words dropped to a whisper. “I fear, dragon prince of Vale, that my words hold much clarity.”
The surprise lit his handsome features.
Who was this old woman?
And how did she know his awful secret?
Laughing crazily, the woman raised her hands in the air as she twirled in a dizzying circle. Several breathless seconds later, she stopped as she stared at him fiercely. “Never underestimate the powers or talents of my ancestors!”
Her cold laughter filled the small room again.
With a careful slowness, he rose from the chair, and then eyed her close. “Who in the hell are you?”
“Why, I’m Charity, of course. A poor, penniless psychic that spreads false truths, remember,” she said sarcastically. “Are you certain that you don’t want anything?”
Humming under her breath, she flitted back to the kitchenette. She slammed the cabinet door shut after retrieving another coffee mug.
He retreated to the kitchen, and then stopped alongside the dining table.
The smile didn’t quite meet her eyes as she turned. Stealthily, like a caged animal, she approached him. “Here, drink it,” Charity said mockingly, extending the coffee mug towards him. “I’m sure that monsters like you are capable of enjoying an earthly brew. Drink it, you filthy black heart!”
Fury seized him as he slapped the coffee mug from her hand.
The coffee mug shattered against the wall as the tiny, droplets of black coffee flew through the air, and finally sprinkled the floor.
Shame tore through him as the old woman shrank away from him fearfully.
The psychic gasped wildly as she moved a few steps back. “There’s no point in such violence.”
Again, he struggled to contain his fury. “Listen, old woman, stop playing games and get to the truth!” he demanded, turning away. “Now, damn it!”
Body shaking, the rage tore through him.
Maybe she was right.
Perhaps he was a monster.
“I’m sorry,” Charity whispered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to provoke you. I just wanted you to take me seriously. But, I ---”
He whirled around. “While you are insistent upon nothing but nonsense, Nicole’s life is at stake!” As he edged towards her, she took a cautious step back. “Don’t worry. If I were going to kill you, I would have done it weeks ago, old woman.”
Frustrated, he stalked back to the small living area.
He sank down onto the chair.
But still, he could hear her heavy breat
hing.
Guilt surged through him again.
“Forgive me,” he started slowly. “I’m not prone to violence, and I especially don’t harm defenseless old women, even if they are exasperating and irritating like you.”
Sighing in relief, the psychic rejoined him. But, her eyes narrowed with suspicion as she sank onto the sofa.
He stared her straight in the eyes. “How do you know about me?”
This wasn’t good.
If she knew, who else was privy to his secret?
“The cards, what else?” she hinted humorously, and then sobered. “My ancestors granted me with more than pure wisdom.” Her eyes held a faraway look. “I have a gift, one that I abhor greatly, especially when it involves people that I care about.”
“Go on,” he encouraged her, tenting his fingers at their tips.
“I’m able to tap into distant worlds, and that’s how I came upon knowledge about your kind. And it’s an error that I have regretted greatly. I can’t help but wonder if I’m partly to blame for his arrival here.” She paused momentarily. “Your grandfather roamed these lands long ago, and he took something precious from me! And I never forgave him for it, and I never will,” she spat out. “When I look at you, it’s just a constant reminder of everything that I’ve lost. Yet, my heart yearns to accept the gift that fate has offered.”
“My grandfather?” he frowned. “What lunacy are you spewing now? I know nothing of the man that you speak about. And if I did, I still fail to see how he has any bearing upon the situation with Nicole.”
“Don’t you understand? He has everything to do with it! If he’d never come here to begin with, none of this would be happening. And now, years later, Nicole has become entangled within the legacy of his treacherous web and lies. It’s all because of you, and I will not allow it to happen! Not this time!”
She jumped from her seat again.
Xander stared at her openly.
A deep anger had seized her wrinkled features while fire blazed in her eyes.
But, her face contained something else.
Familiarity…
She reminded him of someone…
He dispelled the notion.
“Will you just cut through the chase?” he demanded, and the pure, raw anger cut him to the core. “I don’t have time to listen to any more of your cryptic nonsense. You never answered me. How could my grandfather possibly be involved in all of this?”
Dragon Reign: A Paranormal Love Tale Page 12