Requiem

by London Saint James

  “I don’t know what happened. I think she fainted,” the booming voice replied.

  There, breaking through the confusion, I heard the smooth silk ridden voice of what could only be my destruction. The angel spoke again. “Ms. Wells?” His voice sounded confused. “This is Ms. Wells?”

  “Yes,” said the booming voice.

  “Zander, we need to move her to my suite,” the angel said.

  I tried to focus on the angel. I could not hear his voice any longer, but I could hear a steady strum of a heartbeat against my right ear. I began to feel my body encased, cradled by something strong, something tight. Am I moving? I smell leather. The clear sound of a bell, ding, more movement…still the steady hum of a heart at my ear.

  “Move those pillows and grab a blanket. She’s freezing cold and soaking wet,” the angel instructed. “Hurry up. I want to lay her down.”

  I heard another voice, a deeper husky voice. “What is going on?” the husky voice asked. “Hey, I know her.”

  The angel asked, “How do you know her?”

  The deep husky voice moved a little closer or at least it sounded like he did. “Cayden,” he said, “this is the woman I told you about, the woman in the elevator.”

  The angel’s voice appeared again. Louder now, somehow closer as well. “This is her, Chandler. This is Winter,” the angel said.

  “The author? Winter Wells?”

  The deep husky voice sounded confused or perhaps upset as he questioned the angel.

  “Yes, Chandler. It is her,” the angel confirmed.

  I heard the perfect rhythm of a heartbeat again. Soothing and strong.

  “I don’t know, Zander,” the angel said.

  Warm hands brushed across my forehead, down my cheek then rest softly there for a moment. Electricity seemed to snap over my skin.

  I recognized the angel once more as he said, “She’s so quiet. Maybe we should get a doctor up here.”

  The angel’s tone sounded worried.

  Wait, I hear the heartbeat again.

  A booming voice broke the sound of the soothing heartbeat.

  How very irritating.

  “Winter. Can you hear me? Wake up, Winter, open your eyes.”

  The softer voice broke in, somewhere near as well. “Mr. Harrison, I don’t know what happened tonight. We were in the car and headed back to the hotel. She became ill or something. She was having a hard time breathing. When I asked her if she was all right, she could not speak. She jumped out of the car and ran. I tried to catch up to her, but I lost her so I returned to the vehicle. I drove around, trying to find her then finally decided to come here. She left this on the backseat.”

  This is strange. How does my hallucination know so much about me?

  The booming voice asked, “What is it?”

  “A golden box,” the soft British voice confirmed. “She had it with her when she left the apartment on Park Avenue.”

  “Did something happen tonight? Did you say or do something to upset her?” The angel’s voice inquired.

  The softer voice replied, “I do not know what happened. I drove her to the address you gave me, Mr. Harrison. It seemed like she was having a hard time.”

  The angel asked, “What do you mean a hard time?”

  “I mean going into the apartment tonight. Perhaps she really did not want to go inside. When I returned for her, she seemed better, but only for a little while. Then something happened. It was like she saw a ghost. She turned as white as one.”

  The angel called out, “Zander, please call a doctor!”

  The deep husky voice broke in saying, “Wait. I don’t understand. How did Winter Wells get up here with you, Cayden?”

  “I was downstairs speaking with Zander about the possibility of another move. The crowds and paparazzi have found me again.” The angel paused, moved maybe. I heard the heartbeat. Thump thump…. It was stunningly steady. Thump thump…. “I heard someone mumbling behind me. She said something like, ‘this is not possible or not possible.’ I turned around. She looked at me like I was a ghost. She called me ‘Austin’ then fainted.” My angel’s voice seemed to hesitate. I felt strong warm hands again only this time they were brushing back my hair from my neck. I became aware of heat. Heat shot through my body. “I did not know who she was until I heard Richard say her name. I should have known, but I could not see her eyes. Her wet hair fell forward and covered her face.”

  The husky voice muttered, “Winter Wells.” Then abruptly went silent.

  “Zander,” the angel said. The low angry tones arose in the angel’s voice. “Why didn’t you tell me she was here in New York?”

  “She did not want anyone to know she was here or know she will be assisting us with the script,” the booming voice replied.

  “So she agreed?” the angel asked.

  The booming voice quieted as he answered with a, “Yes, but I don’t know if she will stay after tonight.”

  “Why?”

  The angel’s voice sounded worried again.

  I forced myself forward to the silk sound. I needed to see my angel even if he was sent here to destroy me. I had to fight my way, finding my eyes. It seemed like a long journey through the strange darkness. I felt my eyes flutter then open slowly. At first, everything maintained within a blur. I only saw shapes then the shapes turned into colors. Sapphire, deep indigo, deep gray, silver then the colors turned into…eyes. Oh, my God.

  I studied every intricate shade of the blue-gray eyes peering down at me. Caught there for a moment. I moved my gaze to find a slow familiar smile break through the worried look upon his angel’s face. His lips…perfect as they moved. They captured me, held me there. I felt hard cold iron fetters clamp down on my wrists, pinning me. I wanted to move my hands to his face, but I was unable to, locked in place, stunned.

  “Hi.” His silk voice flowed over my ears. He ran his fingers through his sandy-chestnut colored hair. The light from the room seemed to dance over his hair causing a brilliant bronze tent to appear.

  Maybe that is his halo. He can’t be real.

  “Winter.” I realized he said my name as though he knew me. “You had me worried.” His voice sent chills over my skin. I shivered. “Are you still cold?” he asked. He turned and spoke to someone in my peripheral. “Get her another blanket.”

  Zander moved into view and leaned down toward me. “Winter, are you all right?”

  I saw Zander, but was unable to pull my eyes from the face of someone who could not be Austin. Still he possessed every perfect quality of Austin’s face. If this were an angel and he were sent here to destroy me, it would work. Perhaps I have gone mad. I needed to consider the idea as a true possibility. This person who filled my vision, real or a very real figment of my imagination?

  I focused all my strength to my hands. When I did this it broke the feeling of restraint, so I lifted one shaking hand from beneath the blanket and gave myself permission to reach out, to touch him. Oh my God, he is real. My fingers traced his jawline, his face not smooth but prickly with stubble. My thumb found the cleft in his chin. Sparks snapped across my fingertips. My hands felt like fire flowed through them. With this sensation zinging over my flesh, both of my hands moved over the surface of his face. I knew the exact shape of his high cheekbones. Reaching, I touched his hair. The phenomenon upon my fingers, like silk. His hair, a miracle of messy, tousled locks, with long sideburns shaped above his jaw. His face, chiseled perfection.

  “Winter?” he asked. “Please, can you speak to me?”

  “I am sorry.” I breathed, removing my hands as though I touched something hot which burned me.

  He smiled. The corners of his mouth turned up slowly and outlined the gentle creases of laugh lines at each side. He spoke again. Shocked, I watched the movement of his mouth, hypnotized. I recognized the fact that I did not hear him.

  “Hum?” I mumbled.

  “You said you are sorry. Sorry for what?”

  “It’s…I-I.” I could not form t
he words.

  My angel ran his hand over the top edge of the blanket. He brushed his hand over-top my right hand. Tingles shot through my hand. I shivered, quaked to my very core. The angel moved his hand from mine. He closed his fingers like he was holding onto something.

  Can he feel the same tingles?

  “Winter…” he said then hesitated.

  I gazed into the deep sapphire color of his eyes only to find my words leave my lips in a whisper. “Who are you?”

  I heard a low musical laugh vibrate through me, unlocking more sensations, more memories. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

  “I am Cayden Cain. You have no idea how long I have waited, wanting to meet you, but I have to admit, in my mind our meeting went a bit differently.” Bright white teeth shimmered.

  Oh God.

  His smile reminiscent, like the rising of the dawn. I found the sun again. In that very moment, my world realigned. Cayden, he was the sun.

  “Cayden?” I asked, confused.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  I sat halfway up, fighting back the tears. It was no use. They welled up behind my eyelids before they free flowed down my cheeks.

  “I am so sorry,” I whispered.

  “Please, do not cry,” he said. His fingertip wiped across my fresh tears.

  I put my hands to my face. Closed my eyes. His touch was so light I was unsure if he really touched me. And then I wondered if I opened my eyes would he still be here with me, this angel, this impossible man? And it should be impossible for this man, Cayden, to look so much like my Austin, yet….

  Forcing my eyes open, I was compelled to say something.

  “Forgive me. You must think I am more than crazy.” I breathed, trying hard to find a bit of composure.

  “There is nothing to forgive,” he said softly. “Please, do not be sorry.”

  “You look like someone I once knew. It took me by surprise,” I confessed, straightening my body on the long couch. I finally found a more suitable position on the couch when my feet felt the floor. As soon as I did this, Cayden adjusted his position beside of me. He had been leaning over me, almost protective, possessive even.

  “Yes,” he said. “You called me Austin.” Cayden’s eyes flashed clear blue beneath his dark thick lashes.

  “Winter,” Zander said, “are you all right? I can have a doctor here.”

  I looked to see Zander, my driver, Richard, along with the man whom I had met up with twice in the elevator. Two other bulky men stood off in a far corner of the hotel suite seeming irritated and whispering between each other. I brought my attention back to Zander. I shook my head, in what had to be a poor attempt to acknowledge the fact I was fine or at least if not fine I did not need a doctor.

  “I will be fine.” I lied. “Really, you have no idea how sorry I am for all of this. What you must think of me.”

  They probably believe I need a padded cell.

  “Ms. Wells, are you sure you are all right?” Richard asked.

  “I am so sorry for earlier tonight, Richard.”

  I kept telling everyone sorry. I did not know what else to say.

  “As long as you are well that it all which matters,” Richard returned.

  “Winter, what can I do for you? Please, tell me what you need. Anything you need, anything you want,” Cayden said looking at me then his gaze moved off toward another person. I followed Cayden’s gaze to find the man from the elevator.

  “Hey.” He grinned. “Looks like we need to be properly introduced. We do seem to meet a lot. I am Chandler Cain, Cayden’s handsome older brother.” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood I suspected.

  I tried to smile, but I doubt I did a very convincing job of it as I said, “Hello.”

  “Winter.” Cayden called out to me in a low voice which drew my eyes toward him like a siren song. I floated in the warmth of his voice completely in awe. His brow, slightly furrowed with worry. Then his eyes flashed beneath his thick lashes.

  “Yes?”

  His brow smoothed when my gaze met his. “You are soaking wet, and you were freezing cold. How do you feel now? Are you any warmer?”

  “I am warmer, but I am still wet.” I confessed while glancing down at the blanket, the couch. “I’m probably ruining your couch,” I mumbled. I knew my bottom lip started to jet out into a pout.

  Cayden laughed quietly. He shook his head.

  “You’re worried about the couch? Of all the things to be worried about,” he said.

  He expression, amused then he started to touch my lips, but he stopped. He pulled his hand back and swiped it though his tousled hair instead. Cayden shifted his position. The smile left his face. He looked at me in such a way that I knew he was sad, conflicted maybe.

  “Winter, I do not want to see you sick. May I help you back to your room? A hot shower would help.”

  “Um….” I glanced over at Zander. A combination of realization, panic, followed by embarrassment flooded me. “I should go,” I said softly. I found my feet. As soon as I stood, I felt the blood rush through my body. I teetered slightly when the falling blanket, wet itself, shifted my weight as it hit the floor at my feet.

  “Please, let me help you,” Cayden insisted. He placed his arm around my waist to steady me.

  “I will be fine. Really, you don’t need to bother. You are going to get wet,” I protested.

  Cayden motioned with his head to one of the men in the corner to get the door.

  “Just the same, I will feel better if you let me help you back to your room.” Then he laughed. This sound sent chills over me. “I’m already wet. Besides, it’s just water.” His angel’s smile returned.

  I pulled my eyes from his face to study the rest of him. I became conscious of the fact Cayden had carried me from the foyer. His clothes were wet.

  “See you later, Winter!” Chandler called out. “Get some rest.” I nodded but didn’t say anything.

  The bulky man who opened the door stood unyielding in the hallway. He looked none too pleased. Cayden stopped. He shifted his gaze to me then back to the man. “Langdon, you don’t need to come. This floor is secure.” Langdon nodded once before he stood aside.

  Zander and Cayden walked me to the door of my suite. Zander held the golden box from Mrs. Carlyle under his arm. “Don’t forget this,” Zander said as he handed it to me.

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  I felt for my room key in my coat pocket with one hand while taking ahold of the box in the other.

  “Here,” Cayden said, “let me help you.” He took my key. Swiped it through the keypad and opened my door. I noticed a strange interaction between Zander and Cayden. Cayden glanced over toward Zander then back at me briefly before he turned his full attention back to Zander. “I will make sure Winter is all right and settled in.”

  Zander looked at Cayden for a long moment. His gaze fell to my face before he set his attention back to Cayden.

  “See you tomorrow, Zander,” Cayden held assured. He moved me forward with his arm still wrapped securely around my wet coat waist.

  “Winter, get some rest. I will see you in the morning but if you need anything call me,” Zander said.

  While Zander spoke to me he looked worried or maybe even upset. He gazed at Cayden. Something silent seemed to pass between both of them then Zander slowly walked away.

  Crossing over the threshold to my suite, I became acutely aware when I broke the hold Cayden had on me. Our physical connection stopped when I went to place the golden box down on the writing desk. Cayden helped me with my coat. Flinging the soaked garment over the back of the chair, I realized I was more than wet. It could best be described as completely soaked through. The dress beneath my coat clung to my body like a glove, only a wrinkled glove. I think I actually dripped water on the floor. As I kicked off my shoes, I know I grimaced. My feet were killing me, so I allowed them to relax by bending my toes, scrunching them into the carpet.

  “Please know I am truly sorry f
or tonight, and appreciate all of your concern….” I felt my cheeks flush hot from embarrassment, and knew I must seem insane. Unable to stop myself I stared at him, completely mesmerized by the resemblance of Cayden to Austin.

  His hair, nowhere near the pitch black color of Austin’s, but so much about Cayden was like looking back in time. The perfection and beauty of my past life became real, once again present. I never imagined, never thought possible, to see such splendor again. Cayden’s beauty rattled through every thought, dislodging long ago memories from my mind. Looking at him became difficult, as if I could not process such images, so I tore my eyes from him only to bring them back.

  Cayden appeared to be the same height, his build exact, and his voice was shockingly close in texture, tone, and inflection. If that’s not strange enough, he spoke with the same cadence. And there was the same perfection to his face, but what’s truly unbelievable are those liquid blue eyes. Cayden captured me within his eyes, looking at me, gazing straight into my soul. Cayden’s eyes were haunting, calling to me so much so, they seemed to pull me forward into his heat.

  I don’t know how. I don’t remember moving, but I stood inches from him. His warmth crossed over me. My skin tingled. The pulse in my throat thrummed almost out of control. I wanted to touch him. The urge raged through me. The energy that swirled around my body was blatant, alive, charged. For an instant I wondered if he felt what I was feeling. I couldn’t move. His eyes, the pull of his eyes, were not going to release me.

  In this moment of complete and total immersion into the never-ending liquid blue of Cayden Cain’s eyes I felt him brush the palm of his hand down my cheek, pressing it firm, cupping my cheek into the warm strong palm of his hand. The experience, like being baptized in fire. Lightning crackled across my skin. Every breath within me halted.

  “Winter,” he murmured. I could not answer, but it wasn’t as though he wanted me to. It was an awareness between us.

  But this just can’t be.

  “Please, get out of those wet clothes, take a hot shower, and get some rest.” With that he smiled all the while seemingly conflicted, hesitant to exit my room. I stared at him. “Winter,” he said softly, his hand on the doorknob. “I….” He hesitated. I watched him run his fingers through his hair. “I need….” He hesitated once more. His eyes shot to my eyes. We were caught in the moment, locked.