by AR Colbert
Clayton laughed, the golden flecks in his hazel eyes glittering in the light of the room. "Come on. I'll show you one of the coolest parts of the building."
Dom reached out to touch my arm, a gentle reminder to stay close. "I'll be fine," I whispered to her. "You just keep an eye on Gayla. Don't worry about me."
She looked nervously back and forth between Gayla and me.
"Seriously." I squeezed her shoulder. "There are a hundred people here. He'd have to be an idiot to try anything in front of all these witnesses. No one will mess with me."
Dom released a loud sigh. "I'll come find you just as soon as she's done." Then, turning toward the bar, she called out to Gayla.
"Let's go." Clayton laced his fingers with mine and pulled me down the hall. I didn't pull away this time. No, I was going to enjoy myself, even if just for one night. After all, it might be the last chance I had. Who knew what would happen after I tried the dream waltzing spell.
Watchful eyes of countless other Keepers followed us down the hall. We reached a wooden door near the back of the building, and Clayton gave my hand a quick squeeze before releasing my fingers. “Here we go,” he said with a conspiratorial grin.
He had just reached for the knob when a loud voice called out from across the hall. “Hey! You’re not allowed down there!”
A familiar thrill worked its way down the back of my neck and between my shoulder blades, until my whole body came alive with a slight buzzing sensation. Tate? I looked around as Clayton dealt with a bossy undergrad.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked the younger man. Yuck. That was kind of tacky. But maybe the other guy had made some kind of obvious mistake.
“Clayton Miles… I—I’m sorry. But the basement is for Saint A’s members only.”
The tingle grew stronger, through my arms and across my chest, pulling me… where exactly? Nothing seemed out of place around me. A frantic scan of the room revealed nothing unusual at all. No sign of Tate anywhere.
Clayton turned toward the young man, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You’re going to back away and allow me and my guest to have a look downstairs. Sound good?”
The guy nodded. “Yes, of course. There are suits and towels in the bathrooms.”
Wait. What?—
Clayton pulled open the door and gestured for me to move down a narrow staircase. “After you.”
CHAPTER 11
“Did you just glamour him?”
“I like to say I used my powers of persuasion, instead.”
Oh, right. This was the real Clayton. The jerkwad who wasn’t afraid to use other people to get what he really wanted. Now I remembered why I had been distrustful of him before. Why on earth did I allow myself to get so taken by his good looks that I forgot how to use common sense?
“Right, sooo, I think I’ve changed my mind. I need to go find Dom.”
My shoulder pushed into his chest as I tried to squeeze my way past him, but he was like an unmovable slab of granite. “No,” he said firmly.
He pulled the door closed behind him, and his eyes clearly glowed with a warm golden hue in the low light of the staircase. I brought my fingers to my ears as quickly as I could, but it was too late. I’d looked into his eyes. I’d heard the music in his tone. I was glamoured.
“Keep walking.”
I obeyed without a word of protest. I had to. An internal battle with my own mind was raging strong. I knew I was glamoured. I could feel its power wriggling in the back of my head like a worm. But as long as it remained there, I was helpless to object to a word Clayton said. Even worse, I wanted to please him.
We reached the bottom of the stairs. In the center of the basement was an enormous inground swimming pool, complete with a hot tub and waterfall edge dripping over a stone grotto.
“I remembered how much you liked the waterfall at the park,” Clayton said with a mischievous smile. “So I thought I would show you one we can play in.”
My heart pounded against my ribs, desperately trying to break free and get away from him. But instead, I bobbed my head awaiting my next orders.
“Over there.” He gestured toward the far wall. “Get a swimsuit from the bathroom and put it on. I want to see you out here again in less than five minutes.”
The bathroom was pure white, with silver veined marble lining every surface. A small closet inside held a variety of swimsuits, each one smaller than the last. I squeezed my eyes tight, hoping with everything I had that when I opened them I would be somewhere else. Anywhere else. But alas, upon opening them I was still trapped in the basement of some frat house staring at a rack full of itty bitty bikinis. I settled on a little black number and rejoined Clayton back near the pool, leaving Gayla’s dress and shoes in a neat pile on the vanity.
He sat on the edge of the pool, now stripped down to nothing but a pair of swim trunks he must have found in the mens bathroom. Blue and purple lights alternated beneath the surface of the water to create an ethereal glow throughout the room. It was lovely, as much as I hated to admit it.
Clayton tapped the spot next to him. “Join me.”
I tiptoed to the water’s edge, staring nervously into the depths below. One slip and I’d drown. Surely Clayton wouldn’t let me die here, right? With a deep breath of chlorine scented air, I dropped to the ground beside him, allowing my legs to dangle into the pool. My purple toenails blurred in and out of the water’s ripples, temporarily distracting me from the dangerous man controlling my mind.
“You look good in that bikini,” he purred. “But those legs…” He ran a smooth hand across my thigh. “It’s a shame they’re so bruised.”
I turned away. They were bruised because of him, and the irony of it all was not lost on me. We’d come full circle, and I was never more grateful for not kissing someone before. Now we sat while he ogled me in a bikini he forced me to wear. I did not appreciate being objectified, and as soon as this glamour wore off I would let him know about it.
“Come on.” He dropped into the water, his head disappearing for just a moment beneath the surface before he reemerged, treading water like it was nothing for him. He turned and faced me with a grin. “The water’s warm.”
Why did my mom never enroll me in swim lessons…
“I can’t swim.” My chin dropped to my chest, shame flooding me. I wasn’t ashamed that I couldn’t swim though, I was ashamed that I had to let him down. I didn’t want to let him down. I only wanted to please him.
“That’s okay. Jump in. Now.”
My fingertips dug into the concrete edge, even as my body betrayed me. I couldn’t refuse a direct command while I was glamoured. It didn’t matter if it would kill me.
Eyes closed, fingers now clamping the sides of my nose, I scooted toward the edge and removed myself from the safety of solid ground with a splash. The water was warm. At least I would die at a comfortable temperature. I felt myself sink, falling further and further until my feet hit concrete at the bottom of the pool. I kicked hard, flailing my legs in an effort to reach the air again. But it was no use. I was too deep.
I tried again and again, my lungs burning in my chest, crying out for sweet sweet oxygen. My legs were growing weak, my mind losing focus. I wouldn’t last much longer. This was it. This was the end.
Two arms wrapped themselves under my arms, and a rush of water enveloped me as strong legs kicked us back to the surface. As soon as my face broke through the top of the pool, I coughed and gasped for air, water burning at the back of my throat and nose as it dripped back into the pool with a mixture of my own snot and tears.
“You really can’t swim.” Clayton chuckled to himself. There was no apology. No remorse in those still glowing eyes of his. I wanted nothing more than to break loose from his grip. I might even consider the bottom of the pool a more enjoyable place than being wrapped up in his arms, pressed against his hard wet chest.
“No. I told you I can’t.”
“That was fun, though. Wasn’t it?” he asked, a grin
creeping up one side of his jaw.
“No.”
“Tell me it was fun.”
“It was fun.” Ugh. Maybe it was fun for you, you sadistic jerk! That’s what I wanted to say, but of course I couldn’t. That wouldn’t please him.
“Wanna do it again?”
“No.” My throat still burned from before. I was still breathing heavily in an effort to replace the oxygen I’d lost the first time I went under. I couldn’t do it again.
“Tell me you do.”
“I do.” Dangit. I didn’t!
“Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
I fought the urge to speak the words he wanted to hear. Biting down hard on my tongue, I tried to command it to stay still— to prevent myself from saying any more. I wanted to tell him to take me back to the edge of the pool. I wanted to tell him to let me go. That’s what I really wanted. But that wouldn’t please him.
The words caught in my throat, snagging like cotton on a rough wooden fence post. My mouth was clenched as tightly as it would go, and the taste of blood flooded the inside of my lips where my teeth tried to hold them in place. If I dared to open them, I knew what would happen. I’d ask him to throw me under the water again, and I couldn’t let that happen.
“Too slow.” He grinned, and with no additional warning, he released me. I leaned forward, frantically grasping for his legs as they propelled him away from me. The heat rose in my chest faster this time, practically lighting my lungs on fire with an electrical sensation.
My blood buzzed, begging me to give it the oxygen my body required. As my feet touched lightly to the bottom of the pool, I decided to reserve my energy. My limbs already felt tingly—I wouldn’t exhaust them further. I knew I couldn’t make it back to the surface anyway. I’d already tried that and failed. I’d just have to sit here and hold my breath until he hopefully decided to rescue me again.
It didn’t take long this time, and as his arms wrapped around me I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through my veins. I coughed and coughed at the water’s surface, rubbing the sting of chlorine from my eyes. Water wouldn’t stop coming out of my mouth. How much had I swallowed? I coughed some more until I gagged, then finally inhaling a deep lungful of air, I opened my eyes.
Tate!
“Are you okay?” he asked. Concern tugged at his brows but his face was red hot.
“I will be,” I whispered, my voice raw.
He swam over to the edge of the pool and gently set me back on solid ground. The worm in the back of my head was gone. The glamour was broken. I quickly stood and ran to where the towels sat on a chair outside of the bathrooms. Wrapping myself in a fluffy bath sheet, I turned to watch the fireworks show going off in the pool.
“What were you doing?!” Tate was swimming like Michael Phelps over to where Clayton waded in the shallow end of the pool.
“I was doing what you asked me to, man! Back off.”
“You almost killed her!”
“I wasn’t going to let her die.”
Tate finally reached him and reared back a fist. I almost cheered as it moved to connect with Clayton’s perfect nose, but his eyes began to glow again as he shouted, “stop it!”
It didn’t stop Tate in his tracks like it would have done to me, but it did slow his momentum enough that his fist connected with Clayton’s face with only a soft smack instead of the pounding I’d been hoping for.
“You took it too far.” Tate was furious. The initial impact of Clayton’s glamour wore off quickly, but Tate wasn’t interested in hitting him again. He swam over to the edge of the pool and lifted out of the water, his collared shirt and suit pants drenched and clinging to his perfectly toned body like a wax mold.
My jaw slammed shut, and I pulled my eyes away as soon as I remembered what exactly I was looking at here: two beautiful dudes who had both attempted to drown me, glamour me, and now spoke like they were in on it together. They were gorgeous, but they were villains. I tiptoed toward the door, trying my best to not draw any attention.
“I didn’t take it far enough,” Clayton spat back at Tate. “Look at her! Still just a frail little mortal! She has no powers at all!” They both turned in my direction. Crap.
“Take my jacket!” Tate yelled at me. “You’re dripping wet and it’s chilly outside tonight.”
His suit coat laid on the floor just a few feet from where I stood. I scurried over and nabbed it, throwing it over my shoulders as I dashed toward the stairs. No use sneaking now. They knew I was making a run for it.
I didn’t wait to hear what they said next. I’d heard enough. Tate wasn’t the only bad guy after my soul, apparently. He had help, and lots of it. I didn’t know who I could trust anymore.
CHAPTER 12
I burst through the door at the top of the stairs and scanned the crowd, desperate for a friendly face. My eyes finally landed on Dom, and I rushed forward into her open arms. Her face was pale as she held me back at arm’s length to examine me, then pulled me close again, patting my back. “Oh, Everly. I am so so sorry I let you go with him. I want to hear what happened, but first let’s get you out of here and find you some clothes.”
She released me and turned around. “Gayla!” Then, taking notice of the onlookers beginning to gather around, she put both hands on her hips, swiveling her head back and forth to make sure they were all paying attention to what she said next. “There is nothing to see here, people. Turn around and go about your business. This girl clearly does not need you all staring at her right now!”
Gayla stumbled into the circle, brown eyes bright and mouth in the shape of a perfect “o.”
“We’re leaving.” Dom looped one arm through mine and one arm through Gayla’s and tugged us toward the door. “Move it, people!”
The other college students scattered. No one messed with Mama Dom when she was angry.
With one last glance over my shoulder as we ducked out the front door, I saw the tall, toned figure of Tate, my rescuer and hunter. My enigma. Dripping wet at the end of the hall. And something stirred within me. I didn’t know whether to feel grateful or angry. I probably should have been more afraid, really, but he had a knack for showing up and saving me just before things got really bad. Our eyes met briefly before Dom yanked me outside.
I pulled Tate’s suit jacket tighter around my shoulders as the cool evening air cut through my wet towel. We turned back toward the apartment, and like a flash in the night, Sean appeared suddenly before us, panting as he bent forward to rest his hands on his knees.
“Sorry,” Dom whispered. “I called him when I lost you back at the party.”
“I… I came as fast—” He stood and looked me in the eye, his face contorted into a mask of regret. “I’m sorry, Everly.”
“It’s fine,” I said, trying to choke down the emotion that was welling up in my throat.
“It’s not fine. It was a stupid fight. And even if I wasn’t assigned to you, I still wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“It was a stupid fight. I’m sorry I started it. I need to work on keeping my mouth shut. If anyone should apologize, it’s me.”
“No, really. I needed to hear it. And I need to talk to Abby. It’s the truth, and it’s no reason for me to stop protecting you. If I had been here tonight, doing my job, then… wait, what did happen here tonight?” He seemed to have just noticed me trembling in the wet bikini/towel/suit jacket combo.
Gayla nodded emphatically, eyes still a little glassy from the ambrosia. “Yeah, spill it, girl.”
So I did. I told them everything that happened as we walked back to the apartment. Sean was like a raging bull by the time we reached our building, and Dom just kept shaking her head and apologizing.
“You can’t blame yourselves like this.” We stopped outside of the entrance to our building. “It’s not your fault. I’m a big girl. I should’ve known better. Just know it won’t happen again. I will never allow myself to be alone with Clayton Miles or any other Agarthian again.”
“Never say never,” Gayla mumbled as a shiny black coupe pulled to a stop beside us.
Clayton rolled down the passenger’s window. “Can we talk?”
Sean rushed the vehicle before I could give an answer, and Clayton rolled the window back up until it was barely cracked open at the top. Sean’s fist connected with the passenger’s door, instead, leaving a sizable dent.
“Sean! Holy cow, that car didn’t do anything to you!”
He shook out his hand. “No, but I needed to release that somehow. I feel better now.” Then he turned to Clayton. “To answer your question, NO. You can’t talk to her.”
“Wait.” Dom stepped forward, her head tilted slightly to the side. She touched the window, staring at Clayton for a long minute. Then with a small nod, she turned to me. “It’s okay.”
“What?!” Sean spun toward her. “There is no way in—”
“Really.” She held up a hand. “I think you should talk to him. Just don’t get in the car, mmkay?”
I took one hesitant step forward, pulled on the jacket again to cover myself and find some warmth, then turned to my friends for reassurance.
Sean scowled with his arms crossed, ready to pounce on Clayton at the first sign of foul play. Gayla stared dreamily at the lights glinting off the facets of her bracelet, seemingly unaware of the weight I was feeling. I knew she cared, she just had a funny way of showing it. Especially with ambrosia still coursing through her veins. But Dom… thank goodness for Mama Dom. She smiled, sensing my trepidation, and silently mouthed that it would be okay.
I moved forward to the vehicle as the window rolled down again. Over my shoulder I heard Dom telling the others to give us a little space.
“Hey,” Clayton said, a sad smile playing across his handsome face.
I twisted my lips to the side, biting down on the sharp retort I wanted to send his way. He’d tried to kill me an hour ago, and I hadn’t forgotten.
“Sorry about earlier. I’m not even sure I can give you a good excuse or explanation. But I’m sorry.”