Man (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 9)

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Man (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 9) Page 28

by Charmaine Pauls


  As for him, he finally had everything he’d been looking for.

  It hurt. Olivia couldn’t breathe. She forced her eyes open, willing them to comply. Her body ached. Memories from the dungeon rushed back, but she wasn’t in the stench of a red, dark cellar. She was lying on something soft in a room that smelled of lavender. Bright sunlight filtered through the window. Her bedroom. She tried to sit up, but winced at the pain.

  “Shh.” Strong, male hands pushed her back. “You have two broken ribs. Here.” He put a straw to her lips. “Drink this.”

  She swallowed. The action was painful, but the cool water soothed her burning throat. “Cain?” Her voice was raw, the single word a croak.

  “I’m here.” His fingers gripped hers, adding reassurance to the words.

  “Is he…?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “How?”

  “Eve made a serum that destroyed the seven arts DNA chain.”

  “The boy?”

  “We transported him to a safe house.”

  “You mean like a jail?”

  “It’s not a jail. It’s a school for children with special needs who come from abusive homes. We’re keeping a close eye on him and giving him all the treatments we can.”

  “Do you think you’ll be able to save him?”

  He brushed his fingers over her knuckles. “I don’t know.”

  “What if nothing works?”

  “He’ll be an adult soon.”

  “Meaning you’ll execute him.”

  “Only if we must.”

  She flinched. “You make it sound so clinical.”

  “It’s harder than you think, but you know my business, Olivia. You know how it works.”

  “What if he escapes?”

  “He won’t.” His eyes filled with regret. “As much it pained me, we implanted a tracker in him.”

  She glanced around the room. The image of Godfrey next to her bed suddenly bolted into her mind. She shivered at the memory.

  Cain squeezed her fingers. “You’re safe.”

  “Yes, we’re safe.” She managed a smile. “Now what, Cain Jones?”

  His eyes softened. “Now we start living like each day is the last, and like every tomorrow is a new beginning.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Good. Where would you like to start?”

  “Breakfast?”

  He chuckled. “It’s noon, but if it’s breakfast you want, that’s what I’ll make you.” His expression turned serious. “Anything you want, Olivia. I’ll give you all that’s in my power to give.”

  “In that case, after scrambled eggs and bacon I’ll opt for some loving. I can do with a dose.”

  “After?” He brought his mouth down to hers, his lips moving the air as he spoke. “I hate to wait that long, but Eve said I shouldn’t take you to bed until your ribs have healed.”

  “How about the kitchen counter?” she dared with a cocky smile.

  Something dark crept into his gaze. “You have no idea how hard it’s been on me, almost losing you. It’s not nice to taunt me.”

  “What if I keep real still?”

  “You’ll be the death of me,” he muttered under his breath. “Come.” He got up and moved the sheet away. “I’ll carry you to the counter, you’ll hold on real tight, and I’ll be gentle.”

  She snaked her arms around his neck when he reached for her. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “It’s good to finally meet you, Olivia,” Alice said. “Dad told me so much about you. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m good, thank you.”

  Olivia accepted the chair Cain had pulled out for her. The whole team was gathered at the base house. Josselin and Clelia had set up a barbecue around the pool. It was Cain’s idea of enjoying some down time after the near-death experience they’d suffered. While the rest of the adults and kids were either swimming or playing cricket on the grass, Olivia took the opportunity to speak to Alice.

  “I know the idea of us together may still seem foreign to you.”

  “Not at all.” Alice held onto Clara’s hand. With the little girl starting to take her first steps, Alice was being careful not to let her wander off to the pool. “I’m happy for him. My dad deserves love, and so do you.”

  “I appreciate that. I imagined things to be awkward with me being who I am.”

  “If you mean Godfrey’s ex, there’s nothing to feel awkward about. You’re not accountable for his actions. Besides, you suffered as much as any of us.”

  “Thank you, Alice, for giving us a chance to be friends.”

  Cain walked up to them and draped an arm around Olivia’s shoulders. The heat from his body penetrated her skin, immediately expelling the chill she felt more or less permanently, these days.

  “Are you talking about me?” he asked with a teasing smile.

  “You know we are,” Alice said. “Don’t pretend you’re not in Olivia’s head all of the time.”

  Olivia felt a flush warm her cheeks. They were still playing their game. Sometimes she let Cain in without restraint, and at other times he had to earn it.

  “What have you decided about the house?” Alice asked, a shadow creeping over her face.

  “I’m selling it,” Olivia replied. “Cain and I are looking for something in New York.”

  “Not in Morocco?” Bono, who approached them with a tray of drinks, chipped in. “I thought since Cain has a holiday house there we may be neighbors.”

  “There’s more opportunity for Olivia to exhibit in the States.”

  “It makes sense,” Maya said, walking up. “At least we’ll be neighbors and I can ask you to babysit.” She winked at Cain.

  “Twins and a baby?” Olivia laughed. “I’m sure Cain can handle that.”

  Josselin joined the party, shaking drops of water from the pool from his hair and making Laudren, who was sitting on his shoulders, laugh. “Clelia and I were talking. We’d love to host the celebration party at the castle, if that’s all right with you.”

  “It’ll be lovely,” Clelia said, “I promise.”

  “Meat’s ready,” Wayne called from the barbecue.

  The children rushed off with happy squeals. A sense of peace washed over Olivia as she watched the hectic building of hamburgers that followed. Thomas wanted tomato and Laudren didn’t. Khwezi preferred mayonnaise to ketchup. Deon and Zola fought over who’d be served first. It was loud and busy, and there was even a tear or two as Niels dropped his burger on the ground, but it was normal and loving. It was family.

  Cain pulled her chair closer to his. With the rush for the food, they’d been left alone under the shade of the awning. The unexpected brush of his lips over her cheek made her turn her head to him quickly.

  “Happy?” he asked softly.

  “More than you can ever know.”

  “Good. That’s all I want.”

  “Promise me you’ll never stop watching me.”

  His grin was sinful. “Not a chance.”

  Ivan carried a plate with two burgers to them. “Here you go. I hope you like all the toppings.” He sat down and rubbed the egg on his head where the racket had hit him. “This may not be the best time to bring it up, but Alice and I are heading out tomorrow. I’ve got a concert coming up in two days.”

  Cain’s tension was palpable. “What have you decided?”

  He inhaled deeply, letting his chest swell and fall. “In fact, I’ve already taken the serum.”

  Olivia held her breath. Eve had made Ivan a serum to break the seven arts DNA chain without destroying it completely. If it worked, it would render him mortal, again.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Cain asked.

  “I didn’t want to worry you more. At least we know it works. I’m back to being my good old self.”

  “That leaves only three quantumancists, at least that we know of.”

  “The boy and Clara,” Olivia murmured. “Who’s the third?”

  “The one who
saved my life,” Ivan said. “Its identity is still is mystery.”

  “Some mysteries aren’t meant to be solved.” Cain’s gaze moved to his granddaughter. “What about Clara?”

  “Alice and I have decided to let her make her own decision when she’s old enough.” He added, “Which will be soon.”

  “Wise.” Cain nodded. “That’s done, then.”

  Olivia knew what he meant. The last loose end had been tied. However, there was still one issue remaining. “The child…”

  “His progress is good,” Cain said. “His keepers are not taking any chances, though. He’s clever.”

  Olivia’s insides twisted into a knot as they did every time she thought about the child. “Has he chosen a name, yet?”

  “No. For the time being, they’re calling him John.”

  “Do you think they’ll ever get through to him?”

  “Honestly? There’s no telling. He may still surprise us.”

  That could go either way. She rested her head on Cain’s shoulder, unwilling to spoil the moment by thinking of darker things. They had each other. The rest they’d handle as it came.

  An incoming message sounded on Cain’s wrist pad. A frown spread over his forehead as he read. “Team, get ready. Bono, prepare the helijet. We’ve been called out on a mission.” He got to his feet, pulling Olivia with him. He brushed the hair from her face. “Will you wait for me?”

  “Will you come for me?”

  “Always.”

  She opened her mind to him.

  As long as you’re looking, you’ll always find me.

  Epilogue

  The ballroom of the Josselin Castle in the village of Josselin in Brittany, France, bustled with all the glory one would expect from times long past. Candles flickered in the crystal chandeliers hanging from the arched ceilings. Tapestries draped the raw stone walls of the great Gothic hall. Satin skirts swished over the thick red carpet in an array of color, sound, and perfume. Excited chatter floated on the quartet music. Ornate masks veiled the guests’ faces, but not their expressions as their gazes moved around the room with expectation, delight, and maybe the strongest of all, hope. Some were tainted with envy and others with blatant jealousy for Eve’s achievement. The crowd was human, after all.

  The man dressed in white leaned against the far wall, observing the party as an outsider would do, but his dark eyes were sharp. They missed nothing as he took stock of every smell, look, sound, and thought. To an unskilled bystander he appeared at ease, relaxed even, but only the practiced spectator would notice the way his knuckles were clenched on his fashionable cane. His casual stance didn’t betray his impatience.

  The line of his jaw was square and his nose straight. Silver streaked his dark hair, giving a clue of his age, while the way his chest stretched the tailored jacket hinted at a vitality few male youths possessed. The birthmark visible from under the mask was the only imperfection marring his features. If he was standing alone, it wasn’t for a lack of female interest. It was because his formidable aura was closed-off and dangerous, exuding a vibe of untouchability, if not unapproachability.

  His gaze flittered from dress to dress in a bored fashion, illuminating one female after the other. He didn’t have to look at them to know she wasn’t in the room. Rather than relying on his physical senses, he could feel when she was in his proximity. He found the formal event hosted by his sponsors to celebrate the discovery of a cure for cancer tedious. He could entertain himself by delving into the partygoers’ minds, but his morals prevented him from probing deeper than the superficial sentiments recognizable easily enough by visual clues. He allowed the music and mindless chatter to numb his anxiety, an emotion that always prevailed in her absence. He’d never feel quite calm unless he had a visual on her, or preferably his hands.

  The energy in the ballroom shifted. It became charged, like an electric current. He turned his head toward the staircase and instantly connected with a pair of cornflower-blue eyes. The woman standing at the top of the stairs with her hand resting lightly on the balustrade wore a mask, but he saw her features as clearly as if he was tracing them with his fingers. The red color of the birthmark intensified as his skin heated. His body pulled taut, every muscle a premeditated intention of action. The best he could do for now was letting those actions unfold in his mind. Later… A smile tilted his lips, but the gesture was tight, betraying the sexual tension. He knew the woman had caught it from the way her chest heaved under the tight bodice of her dress.

  As for the gown, he noticed nothing. He only noticed her body when she started to move, descending the steps one by one. The set of her shoulders was square. Her body was toned, a sculpture of art. He knew the bend of those long legs under the skirt and the way her knees flirted with the fabric. He knew exactly at which point they’d buckle. He tasted her breath as if she’d kissed him right this very moment, the subtle hint of mint mixed with lush lips and a warm tongue. She touched him as if her gloved hand was sliding over his body instead of the metal balustrade. He watched her from a distance, willing her to come nearer, but even if she chose not to, he was content to drink in her existence, knowing they shared the same space. The only thing that made not being with her bearable was the knowledge that they shared the same sentiments. She belonged not to him, but only to herself, yet, there wasn’t a part of herself she wouldn’t share with him. Him, on the other hand, he was all hers. She was the only woman he ever looked at.

  Her advance across the floor was slow. A tease. His eyes sharpened on hers. Denying him only made the passion worse, the need rawer, the chase harder. Close enough now to touch her, he held his breath. The world stopped turning for three seconds, and then their courses collided. She passed so close the folds of her skirt brushed his pants. Inconspicuously, he moved his hand an inch. Her slender fingers lifted. Their fingertips brushed together. With that fleeting touch, she swayed right past him, but not without rewarding him with a quick, private smile.

  The man in white turned to stare after her. What he saw was perfection. What he saw was a woman. As she disappeared through the veranda doors, he followed. After all, he was only a man.

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  About the Author

  Charmaine Pauls was born in Bloemfontein, South Africa. She obtained a degree in Communication at the University of Potchefstroom and followed a diverse career path in journalism, public relations, advertising, communications, photography, graphic design, and brand marketing. Her writing has always been an integral part of her professions.

  After relocating to Chile with her French husband, she fulfilled her passion to write creatively full-time. Charmaine has published more than fifteen novels since 2011, as well as several short stories and articles. Two of her short stories were selected by the International Society of Literary Fellows in conjunction with the International Research Council on African Literature and Culture for publication in an African anthology from across the continent.

  When she is not writing, she likes to travel, read, and rescue cats. Charmaine currently lives in France with her husband and children. Their household is a linguistic mélange of Afrik
aans, English, French and Spanish.

  www.charmainepauls.com

  Also by Charmaine Pauls

  with Melange Books & Satin Romance

  Seven Forbidden Arts Series

  Pyromancist – FIRE

  Aeromancist, The Beginning – AIR NOVELLA

  Aeromancist – AIR

  Hydromancist – WATER

  Geomancist – EARTH

  Necromancist – SPIRIT

  Scapulimancist – ANIMAL

  Chiromancist – TIME

  Man

  Seven Forbidden Arts, Volume 1 (Books 1-5)

  Novels

  Between Fire & Ice

  The Winemaker

  Second Best

  The Astronomer

  Novellas

  A Miracle for Christmas (Holiday Hopes Anthology)

  The Ice Hotel Wedding Test (Frozen, A Winter Holiday Romance Anthology)

  Artificial Tears (Propose to Me Anthology)

  Also Available

  From Melange Books

  Between Fire & Ice

  by Charmaine Pauls

  Cy is heir to the powerful empire of his parents, a mining enterprise in Chile, South America. Their future power depends on his ability to produce an heir himself, a daunting prospect, as the human race is becoming infertile. But Cy's mother — a brilliant, cold-hearted scientist — left nothing to chance, when she, in the year of her son's tenth birthday, headed a project to artificially inseminate a fertile woman. At thirty years of age, Cy is instructed to marry Elena, who his parents surrogated and adopted for one purpose only — to have his baby.

 

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