Blood In The Stars

by Jennifer Shea

  “But—”

  He silenced her with a stern glance and she sank into his arms. As they continued walking, she settled in and leaned her head against him.

  With her legs hooked over his left arm and her hands resting in her lap, he held her tighter, wanting to savor this short moment. His desire for her had been replaced by the tender yearning he’d had for her these last few years. He didn’t have many chances to hold her in his arms and every second he got the opportunity became a precious memory. He wished the circumstances wouldn’t arise from these attacks.

  “If I didn’t notice your broken shoe, you weren’t going to tell me, were you?” he asked softly.

  She didn’t reply immediately. After a few seconds she merely said, “It’s really not a big deal.”

  He smiled and held her closer. He had forgotten how independent she was, never asking for help, always doing everything herself. It was a quality he admired greatly and yet it irked him to no end. Sometimes he wished she’d ask someone, anyone, for assistance.

  After tonight’s scare, any other woman would be driven to tears and maybe even hysterics. Any other woman would need support, a kind ear or shoulder. Any woman except Daria.

  She had taken a minute or two to recover from shock and now it was as if nothing had ever happened. But she hadn’t always been like that. He had watched her change after her parents’ death.

  Realizing she hadn’t taken her eyes off him, he asked, “Why do you keep looking at me?”

  She blushed from getting caught but didn’t avoid the question. “You have yellow eyes. I didn’t notice earlier. They’re nice.”

  He laughed at her straightforward remark. She wasn’t the type of girl to play games but even he was surprised by her direct approach to life sometimes.

  “And you seem familiar.”

  Jason tensed. He hadn’t erased any of her memories, though he could have easily done so. Somehow that felt like cheating. As though the auspicious one couldn’t accept the truth. He hadn’t done it with the one he protected five hundred years ago and he wasn’t about to start now. So he forced himself to relax and gave her an easy smile to allay any suspicious he may have aroused.

  “Maybe I have one of those faces,” he jested.

  She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his face. “You definitely don’t have one of those faces.”

  They said nothing more as he arrived at his car.

  “You can drop me off at the corner of Ontario and Lake Shore,” Daria told Jason as he pulled his little sports car out into the street.

  He shot her an appreciative glance. “There are a lot of new condos there. You happen to live in one of those?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her new condo had cost her a pretty penny, too. It had been part of the master plan, another item she needed to check off in her quest to succeed at life. Great school. Great job. And it was supposed to be enough.

  Yet when she stood in the bathroom at the restaurant, death closing in around her, she suddenly wondered if what she had in life now was truly enough. Did she want a career in estate law for the rest of her life? What did she really want to do if she got out of there alive?

  And her mind drew a big, empty blank.

  The lack of purpose shocked her. Maybe aimless wanderers like her didn’t deserve the chance to escape death.

  Then she had heard her name. Her blind date had come to save her. Elation soared through her. She’d live another day! She had a chance to find purpose.

  She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye as the car cruised down Lake Shore Drive. This absolute stranger had risked his life to save her.

  Tonight’s events reminded her of a movie with Jason as the action hero. It all seemed too good to be true. And he was so nice to her. If he were any sweeter, she’d want to keep him. Then she’d be getting her hopes up for nothing. Because she’d get dumped. She stifled the sigh that rose to her throat.

  After her brush with death, Daria wanted to live her life differently. She just needed to figure out what exactly to do. She enjoyed her job and was good at it. Yet once she took the job out of the equation . . . She’d have to ponder some more.

  With relief, Daria sat back against the soft leather. Finally. She was going home and she planned to go straight to bed.

  “Which one is your building?” Jason asked, slowing down.

  “That one,” she said, pointing ahead of her, “with those two flag poles.”

  Yet he didn’t swing his car into the circular drive in front of the revolving doors. Instead, he parked his car along the curb. She glanced at him in question when he got out of the car and came to her side.

  “It’s the royal treatment, princess.” He grinned and carried her from the car.

  “No, really, it’s fine. I can just walk back,” she cried, embarrassed. Daria was sure her face blushed crimson and hid it from the concierge when they entered the lobby.

  She loved that he was considerate enough to do this for her, but she couldn’t stand being in his arms any longer. When they were going to his car, the only thing she’d been thinking about was how hot his hands felt on her thigh and how strong the muscles in his shoulder felt against her face. Before she even realized what she was doing, she’d begun caressing the beautiful length of his neck. Thankfully, they had gotten to his car by then and he had to let her down to open the door. It saved her from making a fool of herself.

  Now he was carrying her back to her condo. The realization filled her with dismay. The elevator ride up seemed to take forever. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. Her heart fluttered. She felt light and airy in his arms, as though she weighed nothing.

  The doors opened and she pointed toward the right. They walked down the hall and stopped in front of her door.

  He let her down and just as when they’d reached his car, her legs and hips slid down the entire hard length of his body. The pit in her stomach grew into a cavern, stirring temptation deep inside her. Her shallow breaths betrayed her feelings but she didn’t want to step away. Besides, his hands still locked behind the small of her back and he gazed down at her with tenderness.

  “You going to be okay?” Concern etched into his brow and his worried eyes probed hers for confirmation.

  She had been better. But it could have been worse. I should count myself lucky. Not everyone can share near-death experiences.

  He stared at her, waiting for an answer, while she yearned to lean over and kiss him. Someone as gorgeous as he surely must know the effect he had on women. But though she saw a hint of desire, she mostly saw earnest anxiety for her well-being.

  Taking her brain out of the gutter, Daria nodded. “I’ll be fine. Thank you again for saving my life.” Then she sputtered on before she could change her mind. “Can I take you out and thank you properly?”

  She didn’t even know how she mustered the courage to ask Jason out. To thank him, she reasoned. Only to say ‘thank you.’ No need to get her hopes up for something more.

  “That sounds great.”

  Well, that was easy. Maybe asking someone out wasn’t so hard after all.

  “But I want to take you out,” he added, eyes twinkling. “To somewhere nicer this time. Not a place where we can barely hear each other talk.”

  Tingling anticipation filled her. Did she just get asked out on a second date? Here she stood worrying about her pride, when he planned to ask her out anyway. Giddiness replaced the tingles. And he really needed to stop smiling at her in that adorable way. It did funny things to her stomach.

  How could she say no to such a sweet man?

  She threw on her brightest smile. “We can argue about that later.”

  “Friday night. I’ll pick you up at six. Let me get your number, too.”

  She reluctantly stepped out of hi
s arms so he could tap the numbers into his cell phone. When he was done, she glanced at her door, debating whether or not she should invite him in. She didn’t want him to think she was easy, but she desperately wanted to kiss him.

  As she stared at her door, she felt him take her hands in his. He brought them to his lips and kissed the back of her fingers. “I bid you good-night, my princess.”

  Her heart knotted in disappointment. He was going to leave without kissing her. Without touching her.

  Then he bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead as he had done in the alleyway. Only he didn’t pull away. He lingered, his breath hot along her hairline, his lips branding her skin. Daria closed her eyes, enjoying the intimacy of his hands gently holding hers while the scent of his aftershave tickled her nose. This was much better than a kiss. They barely touched but he held her as if he found her precious.

  Jason stepped back and Daria opened her eyes. “You’re my hero.”

  His brows crinkled and he gave her a pained smile. “Let’s hope we’re the stars in a fairytale and not living through a tragedy.”

  Chapter 4

  Daria slapped her hand over the nightstand, again and again, until she found the switch to turn off the blaring beep of her alarm clock. Sunlight streamed through the cracks of the mini-blinds, splattering blotches of brightness across her blanket. Seven o’clock. Ten more minutes. She turned on her back and slowly eased her eyes open.

  After all the excitement from last night, she had spent another two hours reviewing the files for today’s internal meeting, which was to prepare for tomorrow’s meeting with their new client, the founder of the Hellerman Foundation. Unfortunately, those two hours had been anything but productive.

  No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, her mind kept switching to Jason. At first, she had daydreamed like a lovesick adolescent, fun for maybe twenty minutes. But then that niggling doubt had crept into her mind. What did he see in her? She had never considered herself a woman who lacked confidence, but in the dating department, her poise wavered.

  She proceeded to list off all the reasons why she was a catch. That had placated her doubts until a new qualm swept over her. Why did he seem so familiar? No amount of pondering gave her an answer, and the two hours that should have been spent over the legal brief, had instead passed her by.

  Daria looked toward the clock on her nightstand. Just a few more minutes. She shut her eyes again and an image of Jason popped into her mind. A satisfied smile spread across her lips.

  What a wonderful, nice guy. And a total hottie. She sighed contentedly. Maybe Jason’s interest in her lay in the realm of fantasy, but she didn’t mind indulging in it all the same. Her limited dating experience usually reminded her to temper her hopes and protect her heart.

  She finally crawled out of bed and lumbered to the bathroom, leaving just enough time to shower, dress, and eat something before work. She needed to focus on today. The meeting would require all of her attention.

  After shedding her clothes, she stepped into the shower. Warm water cascaded down her hair, soaking her scalp and easing her nerves. She kneaded her tight shoulder muscles.

  Suddenly, the water turned scalding. Daria yelped and jumped out of the hot stream. When she eyed the handle, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with its position. Cautiously, she placed her fingers under the liquid. Her arm snapped back as steam filled the stall and the water burned her.

  Daria reached for the handle, but the droplets of water falling on her skin didn’t feel so hot anymore. She tested it again. It seemed all right.

  She poured shampoo into her hand and lathered her hair. But a minute later as she rinsed off the suds, her scream echoed off the tiles. “Jesus Christ!”

  She hastily stepped back. What was going on here? Now the water was icy cold. She glanced at the handle again. It remained in the middle of the ‘H’ and ‘C’ the same as usual. A temperature malfunction? That seemed strange.

  Daria spent the next ten minutes jumping in and out of the water as it switched from hot to cold every minute. By the time she finished, her skin was half-burned and half-frozen.

  Grumbling and annoyed that her morning shower was thoroughly ruined, Daria threw on a robe and toweled her hair dry as she went to the kitchen. She pulled out a loaf of bread from the refrigerator and popped two slices into the toaster. Then she returned to her room to change.

  Dresses, shirts, slacks, sweaters, and dozens of shoes filled her walk-in closet. Her eyes ran over the various color choices before she pulled out a gray pants suit.

  She sniffed. Acrid bitterness clawed its way through her sinuses as smoke scraped her throat like dark fingers.

  “Shit!” Daria dropped the clothes and dashed out of her room to the kitchen. Orange flames danced from the toaster and the lovely odor of charred food and burned rubber filled the room. Without a second thought, she yanked on the plug.

  Sparks flew and Daria fell on her butt, bruising her tailbone on the hard floor. The fire subsided, leaving white and black smoke swirling from the ruined toaster.

  She sat there for a long minute, wide-eyed, her brain still processing how this could have happened. A short circuit? Did her bread catch on the heating element?

  Her hacking coughs stopped further thought as she scrambled to open all her windows. The last thing she needed this morning was the smoke alarm going off and her neighbors calling the fire department, forcing an evacuation of the entire complex. She’d had enough fires for a lifetime after last night.

  She sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and waved her arms around like a madwoman to help exchange out the smoke. When she was satisfied the air had cleared, she turned back to the kitchen and gasped when she saw the clock on her microwave. It couldn’t be that late already!

  Dashing to her room, Daria wrenched off her robe and slipped on her suit. Then she sped into her closet and grabbed a pair of pumps. Tripping a bit in her rush, she snatched her purse off the countertop, keys jangling as she fumbled to pull out the correct one among the chains and knickknacks strung on the ring.

  Two seconds later, she raced to the elevator just as the ping sounded.

  Perfect timing.

  But as she stepped in front of the elevator, her foot gave way. Daria plunged head first through the parting doors, her hands reaching out in desperation to cushion her fall. Her right hand caught the handicap rail but her knees crashed to the rough carpet. Pain shot up through her wrist from the wrench of the fall. Tears stung her eyes.

  “Oww,” she whimpered. When she glanced back, she saw the heel of one shoe hanging limply to the side.

  The elevator doors slid shut while Daria took a moment to steady her heart before tentatively testing her feet and ankles. Nothing broken, nothing sprained. The heel of her foot was a little sore from the initial fall, but she was none the worse for the incident except some bruising. She counted herself lucky.

  Damn. She really liked those shoes, too. That was the second pair ruined in two days.

  Daria staggered back to her condo and changed into another pair. Five minutes later, she sped down Ontario Street and checked her watch to see if she was making good time. She needed at least another fifteen minutes; it was eight-thirty and their meeting started at nine sharp. She should be fine.

  On any other day, she wouldn’t have been in such a rush. But this was preparation for Mr. Burke’s meeting with a new client and he was the last partner at the firm she hadn’t charmed into loving her and her work. With promotion possibilities around the corner, she wasn’t going to lose any chance to impress him.

  The flashing crosswalk signal stopped her as she reached Michigan Avenue. She hopped from one foot to the other at the edge of the curb. A car sped by and she stepped back. Jitters bubbled in her stomach. She hated not being on time. Daria glanced at the light, wondering why it w
as taking so long.

  Then someone pushed her.

  The world moved in slow motion. A light turned green and all the cars waiting to turn left onto Ontario began driving straight for her. Her body jerked forward, propelled beyond the curb into the right lane. Her head leaned out while her legs and feet still stubbornly clung to the ground to keep her from rushing to an untimely death. But she lost her balance, and when a car whizzed by in front of her, Daria realized she was going to die. Again.

  First the shower, the toaster, her heel, and now this. Tomorrow morning, would the Chicago Tribune report that a pedestrian had been run over? After narrowly escaping death the night before? She could already see the headlines: Chicago Lawyer Pushed Into Oncoming Traffic By Morning Rush.

  The world was conspiring against her lately. Maybe she was meant to die young. Daria caught a glimpse of a cab coming straight for her.

  This had to be the worst day of her life. She just hadn’t thought it would be her last.

  As Daria fell to her death, she expected to see glimpses of her childhood, visions of people from her past. Yet she saw only the imminent tarmac mixed with gory fantasies of her body splattered across the intersection to the horror of passing tourists.

  Just when she wondered why her life wasn’t flashing before her eyes, strong hands clutched her arms and pulled her back.

  She sucked in a desperate breath. A cold sweat poured over her body and she swallowed to keep her pounding heart from jumping out of her chest. Then she turned to thank her savior. Large sunglasses hid the face, but Daria saw waves of blond hair cascading down the woman’s back.

  “Are you okay?” a sultry voice asked.

  “Yeah. Thanks,” Daria whispered. “I slipped.”

  But in her head she thought differently. She didn’t slip. Someone pushed her.

  “Be careful,” the woman warned, stepping out into the intersection after the light changed and vanishing into the tides of people.