Enthrallment: (Enthrallment Series Book 1)

by Meg Evans

  “No,” he says tersely.

  “Please. It doesn’t make any difference to me.”

  “Then why do you ask?”

  “Out of curiosity.”

  “I won’t answer.”

  “Okay. I won’t insist.” I change the question to a different one. “How long was your longest intense relationship?”

  “Umm… Good question.” He frowns. “About a month.”

  Only a month?! I holler on the inside. I was expecting something more like half a year or at least several months. Thirty days sounds like a second on the clock of life.

  “Wouldn’t you like to beat the record?”

  “We need to establish a daily limit of questions you can ask if I am to consider seeing you more often, because I know where you’re going with this.”

  I grin at that comment. I realize how annoying it must be when almost every sentence coming out of my mouth is a question. I can’t resist, though. I’m hoping that my persistence will eventually pay off and Dorian will start answering properly, simply for the sake of his peace of mind.

  “Can you at least promise that you’ll consider us?” I look at him with sheep’s eyes, hoping he won’t be able to resist.

  He rolls on top of me and answers with a kiss. I’m not sure whether that means yes or if he does it to finally shut me up, but I don’t care, and devour the softness of his lips. My hands travel from his strong back to his muscular shoulders. The tension is growing again deep within me.

  “Dorian!”

  It’s Rita crying out downstairs. Our lips break apart. The tone of her voice leaves no doubt that this is something urgent.

  “Fuck.” Dorian sighs. “I’ll be right back.” He climbs out of bed, quickly pulls on his clothes, then adds, “Rita’s panicking again.” His face is stern. He doesn’t like that he needs to go down to calm his cousin down.

  I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t take advantage of such an opportunity. Seconds after Dorian leaves the room, I sneak up to the door on my tippy-toes and open it a crack. Even though both of them are in the living room, Rita’s voice is clearly audible even from the second floor. She’s fuming.

  “Are you out of your mind?! You told me that she was out of the question and the moment I leave to look for Rafael, you bang her! She lives next door, for God’s sake! Do you want her to find out everything?! You’re wasting your time; they’ll be here next week! Show it to me.” I have no clue what she wants him to show her, but a second later, she goes on, “Only two? ONLY two?! Dorian, that girl will ruin everything. Either you take her into consideration, or stop seeing her at all. You know far too well that it’s pointless otherwise.”

  “First of all, calm down, and don’t tell me what to do,” Dorian says. His voice remains unshaken, regardless of Rita’s screaming. He speaks slowly and clearly in a way typical of him. “Second of all, I don’t do anything without a reason. She has one of them.”

  That sentence echoes in my head. She has one of them.

  What do I have?

  “I beg your pardon?!” Rita’s as stunned as I am. “Oh my God! How do you know?”

  “I need to make sure.”

  “But how do you know? You told me that she was a hu—”

  “Shh!” he shushes her. “No, she’s definitely not. I was wrong. But she’s not ordinary either. Do you remember how fast she healed after her bicycle accident? Doesn’t it sound familiar?”

  “Of course it does. But how does she have one? It’s impossible.” There’s a moment of silence. “You’re going to take it away from her, right?”

  “It’s not as easy as you think.”

  I don’t have the first clue what they might be talking about or thing I own that they desire so much. But now at least I know that Dorian has a purpose in maintaining our contact. Is that the only reason he’s been interested in me at all?

  “Dorian, is everything okay? You haven’t been yourself lately.” Rita’s voice changes entirely; instead of anger I can hear concern in her tone. “Is it because of her?”

  “No, I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He doesn’t sound too convincing.

  “It’s her. It’s that Zara messing with your head.”

  My heart sinks. I stick my head out the door to hear them even better.

  “I’m not sure, myself.”

  “Dorian… you can’t do it,” she whimpers. “It’s not the way it works. We can’t have feelings for anyone.”

  “There’s something about her,” he says harshly. “Something different—inexplicable.”

  My heart starts palpitating; his words prove that he sees something in me that he didn’t in all other women he’s been with. Is that possible that I affect him somewhat the way he affects me? Is it mutual?

  “Don’t make that face, Rita. There’s no reason to worry; I know what must be done. You don’t have to remind me.”

  “Does it mean that you’re counting her as well?”

  “No.” His voice is stark. “I’ll learn who she is and where the gem is—that’s that.”

  The gem?

  “You can’t just leave her now,” Rita splutters. “It’s too late. That’s against the rules!” She’s livid. I can hear her heavy steps; she must be pacing up and down the living room.

  “If you say the word rules again, I swear, I’ll leave.”

  “Dorian”—she halts and sighs—“you have to obey the code. Do you want the Guild to find out?”

  A tense silence fills the house.

  “Just trust me.”

  “You’ll get us into trouble,” she says with conviction.

  “Did you find Rafael?” Dorian changes the subject.

  “No, he’s vanished. I suspect he’s holed up somewhere in the woods and waiting until the girl is by herself again. You need to keep an eye on her.”

  “That’s my plan.”

  “Fair enough. Go upstairs. She’ll start wondering where you are.”

  Dorian doesn’t say a word more. When I can hear his footsteps at the bottom of the stairs, Rita says, discontented, “I still think it’s crazy, what you’re doing.”

  “I have my reasons.”

  Heavy steps on the stairs; he’s coming. I swiftly get back inside the bedroom and slide under the sheets. I need to keep my face straight so that Dorian doesn’t suspect I heard their conversation.

  I grab my cellphone to make it look like I’ve been browsing the internet all along. When I glimpse the screen, I freeze as I notice twelve missed calls from Cynthia and four unread messages, each of them asking where the hell I am. I lost touch with the world for over four hours since leaving the house to go for a walk.

  Dorian comes in and shuts the door.

  “I think I’m in trouble,” I announce to him.

  CHAPTER seventeen

  When I cross the threshold of my house, Cynthia is already waiting for me in the kitchen, sitting at the table. A stern, rigid expression is engraved into her face. I have no idea how long she’s been waiting for me like that, but her frowning eyebrows and tightened lips tell me that it’s been long enough. A knot forms in my stomach. I’d do anything to avoid confronting her right now. Cynthia can be frightening when she looks at someone with that piercing, dreadful stare. She seems to be a different person then—no longer all sweetness and light, but a vicious creature.

  “Where have you been for so long?” she asks when I clear the kitchen door.

  “I met Charlie. He treated me to the movies in the city. That’s why you didn’t hear from me; I had my cellphone on silent, and later I forgot to turn it on again,” I say with a shrug. “It’s only seven; I came back way before ten. Wasn’t that the deal?”

  “You met Charlie…” She gives me a flat look. “And went to the movie theater with him?”

  I nod, trying to avoid further questions and even more lies. I’m aware that Cynthia doesn’t believe me, but I endure her deadly look without admitting to dishonesty. I’m grateful I can’t read my aunt’s mind—I’m certain that t
here’s nothing positive going on in there right now. She clearly wants to dig into the subject further, but at the same time, she knows me well enough to realize that unless I spill the beans of my own volition, she won’t pull the truth out of me no matter how hard she tries.

  Having nothing else to add, I simply turn around and head upstairs. My rumbling belly is urgently crying for food, but I’d rather starve than feel that suspicious look on me. At the top of the stairs I notice Maddie. She isn’t lounging there accidentally; she’s been waiting for me on purpose.

  “Why did you lie to her?” Maddie doesn’t beat around the bush.

  “How can you be so sure I lied?”

  She gives me a self-satisfied smirk. “Leaving the Hatches’ house through their back door, looping around and using the path leading to Charlie’s house so that it looked like you were just coming back from his place was very clever. Unfortunately, visible from my room.”

  If she decides to snitch on me, I won’t have a curfew anymore. I’ll be kicked out of the house.

  “Maddie, I’m begging you, don’t tell on me.” I peek over my shoulder to ensure that Cynthia hasn’t shown up at the bottom of the stairs, listening to our conversation.

  “Will you tell me the truth then?” She narrows her eyes.

  If that’s all it takes to make Maddie keep her mouth shut, then why not? Obviously, skipping some key elements will be unavoidable.

  “Our neighbors aren’t a couple. They’re siblings,” I begin, aware that Maddie will draw the correct conclusions and instantly decode the message I hid in that one short statement.

  “You… Are you dating him?” She opens her eyes wide with disbelief: she’s impressed.

  “Sort of.”

  “Oh, shut up!” The bewilderment on her face grows bigger.

  “No joke. I’m telling the truth, just like you asked.”

  “Since when?” She’s hungry for details. Telling the truth will undeniably lead to a torrent of further questions, but I’m ready to answer them to satisfy my cousin’s curiosity.

  “Since the weekend when you and your mom went to Portland.”

  “The weekend when you came back home late hysterical?”

  I’d love to erase that evening from my memory.

  “Yes.”

  “Why haven’t you been telling her the truth? She’s concerned about you,” Maddie says. “Plus, what was that scene supposed to be this morning? Did you take anything yesterday?”

  “Would you have told her if you were dating someone who lives literally on the other side of that wall?” I point to the wall across from us. Silence falls. “Exactly. As for the morning, I… think I might still have been a bit drunk after yesterday.”

  My cousin blinks, baffled. “Wait a minute, didn’t you go on a double date with Matt last night?”

  “Yes, but I did it more for Rach than myself.”

  That’s not a total lie. I mostly agreed to go out with them for the sake of my own self-confidence, but Rach contributed to my decision to some extent as well. She’s been asking me for years to go on a double date with her, but as luck would have it, we never dated guys at the same time.

  “I’m guessing she also doesn’t know about… What’s his name, anyway?”

  “Dorian.” When I say his name my stomach twists again. I can’t believe I’m talking about him with Maddie. “And yes, you’re the only one who knows.” I say it to please her even more. Hopefully this will encourage her to keep it a secret between us.

  “Dorian…” she repeats slowly and gets to her feet, standing at my eye level. “Have you and him already… you know… did you sleep with him?” She whispers it so quietly that I can barely hear her, even though she’s inches from me.

  “Maddie! Who do you think I am?!”

  “Okay, okay! I’m sorry,” she says, making a sweeping, apologetic gesture with her hand. “But promise me that you’ll tell me when you—”

  “You wish,” I snort, but wink at the same time. I’ve played it well; I have Maddie on my side. The moment of truth has come. “Can this stay between us?”

  “Are you kidding? Of course I’ll keep my mouth zipped!”

  Mission accomplished.

  * * *

  Although it’s Sunday, I don’t join Cynthia and Maddie for a movie night. Over the past several weeks I’ve been avoiding them both as if I’m scared that they’ll be able to see into my mind and learn everything I’ve been hiding from them. Even though I’ve told Maddie some of the truth, I won’t tell her everything. She would never understand the peculiar pull I have toward Dorian. I don’t understand it myself.

  Wiped out after the eventful day, I jump into a hot, soothing shower. I close my eyes and let the warm stream of water caress my skin. Leaning my head against the cool tiles, I picture Dorian’s face: soft lips, sexy pronounced jaw, slightly snub nose. Last time I saw him was no more than three hours ago, but it feels like long weeks have passed since I left his place.

  I step out of the tub and wrap a fluffy towel around myself. My muscles are relaxed, my mind calm. I come up to the sink to finish my evening beauty routine. The mirror is steamed up and I can’t see my reflection, so I wipe it with my hand, forming a small circle in the middle. My eyes are bloodshot. I need a good sleep. I rub my neck and bend down to wash my face.

  When I straighten up and look back into the mirror, my heart almost jumps out of my chest. I see the terrifying face of the man with the knife. He’s standing right behind me, staring at me with bloodlust.

  I twist around in a flash, but there’s nobody there. I’m all by myself. Panting with terror, I transfer my gaze back to the glass surface. The man’s gone.

  Am I crazy?

  I finish in haste and jump into bed, covering myself up to the neck with the blanket. Motionless, I stare at the ceiling for a good fifteen minutes, unable to erase the ferocious face from my mind. The hostile look on his face when our gazes met will be haunting me for the next few days.

  Where did he want to take me? And why me in the first place? How come he even knows who I am?

  This question triggers another thought. What if he’s after the same thing as Dorian? What do I possess so precious that two men desire it? My life has always been peaceful. I’ve never stuck out of the crowd. Nobody has ever considered me special.

  I let out a long sigh and turn my head to the side. My eyes land on two framed photos of my parents hanging on the wall. Their smiling faces forever captured in those two photographs are all I have to remind me of them. I have no recollection of either my mom or my dad. Would they know what this is all about? Does it have something to do with their past?

  The fact is that I’m not even sure where I come from. I barely ever touch the subject of my family history with Cynthia. Her excuse to avoid the topic is that she doesn’t want to upset me with the harsh truth. After all, when my parents died, no family members wanted to take care of me; only Cynthia took me under her wing.

  There are so many unknowns. Things that remain secret and mysterious.

  I strive to push away the nagging thoughts about my family, but the second I manage to suppress them, they’re immediately replaced by the memory of Dorian and Rita’s conversation, which only raises more questions with no answers. Their words were complete Greek to me. I have no idea what the gem he mentioned is, and what’s the ‘right thing’ he has to do so badly? How I am even involved in it?

  Amongst the chaos consuming my brain, I can single out one sound; it’s a man’s voice which I’ve heard before only in my dreams. I recognize its depth and slight roughness.

  I WILL TAKE IT AWAY FROM YOU.

  Fear curls in my gut. Even though I search the room thoroughly, I know that it’s in vain. I won’t find anyone hiding in the walls, because that voice came from inside my head.

  I squeeze my eyes closed. Adrenaline rushes through me. Never in my life have I seen or heard things, but today all those past years have apparently caught up to me with full force. I co
ver my head with a pillow like it’s going to drown out my thoughts. I’ll go crazy if those hallucinations and voices don’t stop haunting me tomorrow.

  * * *

  Is it morning yet? Maybe it’s still the middle of the night.

  I can’t tell with my eyes closed. Even though I’ve been desperately trying to open them over the last minute, I can’t. My exhausted body sends the clear message to my brain that it must be four a.m. at the latest. Unfortunately, my alarm disagrees as it goes off; it’s actually already six a.m. I need to drag myself out of bed if I don’t want to be late for my morning shift at Walgreens.

  Paralytic grogginess often greets me in the mornings, but never to such a degree. Today it’s reached a critical level. My whole being seems to yell at me, commanding me to lie under the warm comforter for the rest of the day and not, God forbid, go out anywhere.

  Eventually, I pull myself out of the bed. It’s so difficult to walk, as if weights are attached to my feet. I switch on the light in the bathroom; it stabs my eyes, and I squint. Everything’s blurry and vague. The lavender scent that I usually adore is now seems sickly. I step on the fluffy mat and lean against the sink, panting as though I just ran three miles. I rinse my face with cold water. After drying it with my pink towel, I glance at my tired reflection in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes only highlight the milky-white color of my skin, making me look deathly pale.

  I brush my teeth at a snail’s pace. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t move faster. As I spit, the sink suddenly begins to spin. I shake my head, but it doesn’t help. The world swirls viciously around me.

  Oh no…

  I know exactly how this is going to end. Thousands of sparkling, colorful points appear before my eyes. I drop down and feel the cold of the floor tiles, followed by total darkness.

  * * *

  I open my eyes and see the white bathroom ceiling. Something’s not right with me. I can’t gather my thoughts. Did I fall asleep? Did I pass out? I move my head to the side and notice my blue toothbrush on the floor. I try to reach out for it, but my limbs feel unnaturally heavy; I can’t lift my arm even an inch. I feel so groggy… it’s a challenge not to close my eyes again.