The Temple

by Heather Marie Adkins

  He sighed again, but kept quiet as the waiter arrived, balancing two steaming plates on one kitchen mitt-covered arm. Whipping a towel from his apron strings with a flourish, he placed our respective dishes before us. The smell alone was enough to send me into an ecstasy induced coma. I shoveled an obscenely large forkful in my mouth and had to stifle a groan.

  Brett picked up his fork and smirked at me. Damn. I’d done a horrible whack job of hiding my expression. He picked up a bite of his chicken and let it float in the air as he said, “Look, can we agree to disagree? I’d like to spend this dinner getting to know you, not arguing. I get enough arguing with my mother.”

  My insides went warm. “Sure. Tell me about your family. Are you from around here?”

  “Yeah, I grew up in York, which is about an hour north of here. When I moved here to take the job, my mother and father decided it was time to retire. They got an old house in the country between the two places.” He chewed his food thoughtfully, flicking his hair out of his eyes. “I like it, in that Mother feeds me and does my laundry, which makes me no better than a teenager, I suppose. Since I am the only child, I think Mother just can’t give up taking care of me. One thing I couldn’t do was live with them, however. My father got the flat through some friends.”

  I chuckled, sipping my wine. It was starting to settle into my system, and I was feeling light and airy. “What is it with dads? I got my apartment through mine.”

  We both glanced up at the waiter, smiles on our faces, as he came to check on our welfare. “The food, it is perfect?”

  “Delicious, Marcello, thank you,” Brett answered, his inky eyes sliding back to my face. I nodded my agreement, mouth full of noodles. Marcello drifted lazily away.

  The small restaurant had begun to fill around us. “What about your family? Are they going to miss you so desperately they’ll decide to move to a home in the middle of the Atlantic to be close?” he quipped, eyes twinkling.

  “No, no, not mine,” I said, shaking my head with a wry grin. “I showed up when they were still young, only twenty. Then, a few years later they had my sister, Macy, and she’s still home.”

  “What do your parents do?” He poured me another glass of wine. I eyed it warily, fully expecting it to kick me in the ass. I’d be three sheets to the wind before I got home.

  We went on for a while, playing get-to-know-you games, the alcohol invading my body with a vengeance. I started fantasizing about running my fingers through his dark, dark hair, and tracing the angle of his jawbone with my tongue. Watching him speak, the way he shaped his words in an accent so different from my own, I was lost to him in a bad way.

  “Vale?” Oh, god, the way he said my name sent warmth rushing to my nether regions. I shook myself.

  “Sorry, what?” I noticed Marcello hovering at my elbow with a big white smile.

  “Would you like to see the desserts, signora?” he asked, clasping his hands together at his navel, where his apron strings were wrapped around and tied.

  I glanced at Brett, who nodded vehemently. Oh, man, a guy who loves dessert. Be still my thighs. Smiling prettily up at Marcello I gave him the affirmative.

  “I lost you there for a moment,” Brett teased when the waiter had disappeared with our empty dishes. I’m not one to pretend I don’t have a healthy appetite. One of his hands crept across the table and laid across mine, where they were folded on the tabletop. His fingers were long, his nails shiny and short. I blushed to the roots of my hair.

  “Mmm-hmm, you did,” I murmured, unable to meet his eyes.

  His laugh was deep and strong. “I wouldn’t have you down as a shy one.”

  I interlaced my fingers with his, staring down at my own black tips. Really should remember to repaint my nails when I chip them. “I’m not usually.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Marcello wheeled up with a trolley loaded down with all the possible sweet things a girl could wish for. I died on the spot.

  “Signora, your selection,” Marcello said, throwing an arm out over the desserts like Vanna White.

  I looked across the table at Brett, our hands still touching, and gulped. “Can I have them all?”

  *********

  It was nearly ten when Brett pulled into the spot beside my Cooper. He took his hand away from where it cradled mine on my lap and cut the engine. We sat there in silence listening to the engine ticking as the cold began to seep in. At least it wasn’t raining.

  “That tiramisu was great,” I started, at the same time he said, “The gelato was really good, I think.” We glanced at each other and laughed. I liked the way his laugh shook his body, his hand moving on mine.

  “It was fun. Sorry I had to say no to the drinks.” I was focusing real hard to not slur my words. I wasn’t drunk, but I certainly wasn’t sober.

  “No problem, I’m just happy to have spent the evening in your company.” He squeezed my hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”

  Getting out of his car into the cold night air was like a slap in the face, and I sobered almost immediately, tugging my coat tighter. We met at the front of the car, where he slid a strong arm over my shoulders, tucking me into his warmth as much as a man not too much taller than me could.

  “You need to invest in a scarf and gloves, gorgeous,” he said softly as we took the steps to my porch. I’d left the light on after the excitement of the day before and it filtered down softly on us. The wind kicked up, the last of the fall leaves swirling across the sidewalk like an animals claws.

  “I have some. I forget to wear them. I come from heat, you know. We don’t have winter in the south.”

  Facing me, he slipped his arm around my waist and raised the other to tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear. I wished I’d worn my hair down so I could feel his hands in the whole mess of it. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Vale.”

  There it was again, that damn blush. Even without a mirror I knew it turned me into a radish. “Thank you.”

  He took a step forward, his nose within inches of mine. I felt my mouth part, my breathing kicked up a notch, and I slid my hands up his chest over the rough material of his coat. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, his breath on my lips. He leaned in before I could finish nodding.

  It was like drowning. His lips on mine, his body pressed into me. He was perfect, like a hot fudge sundae, and I wanted to taste him until the end of time. One of his hands slid along the skin of my neck and the other cradled my face like I was fragile, his mouth moving against my lips tenderly. Waves of heat washed over my body, even my hands where they trembled on his chest. My reaction surprised me, and my control over my hands—something I could do without even thinking about it anymore—failed me. Thank god I wasn’t touching his bare skin or he’d be facing quite the mess in his boxer shorts.

  I wondered if he wore boxers. Or briefs. Or nothing. The very thought swirled desire through my abdomen.

  I felt the cold something terrible when he pulled away, the amazing bump in his pants moving away, leaving me bereft. “I’d like to do this again sometime,” he murmured, tracing my cheeks with his thumbs.

  I wanted to invite him in, oh god, I wanted to take him upstairs and do things to him that would be illegal in six countries. My southern hemisphere was screaming for it, reminding me in throbbing pulses that I hadn’t had sex in a very long time.

  “Me too,” I choked out, biting back the urge to throw my legs around him and beg him to take me right where we stood.

  Smiling, he stepped away and I swayed towards him like a moth to a flame. He steadied me. “Next time, we’ll take it easy on the wine,” he joked, pecking a small kiss to my lips. “I’ll see you at work on Sunday.”

  Hunter started barking as soon as I shoved the key in the lock. The mass of fur met me inside the door, hopping like a bunny on steroids. I punched in the alarm code and watched Brett get into his car before driving away with a wave. I closed the door and threw the locks.

  I shus
hed Hunter’s booming barks, kneeling to throw my arms around him and slather him in kisses. He followed me, toenails clicking, to where his leash lay on the kitchen counter. Snapping it to the hunter green collar I’d purchased, I took him out the back door for a quick walk before bedtime.

  The trees swayed above me, dancing in the wind to a symphony of creaks and groans. I trotted along behind my dog, his long snout pressed diligently to the ground, and let the brisk air cool the heat on my face. I couldn’t stop thinking about Brett’s kiss. My body had never reacted with such force and it was unheard of for me to lose control over my orgasm-inducing hands.

  A short, sharp bark from Hunter startled me from my thoughts, and I kicked my heels into the grass as he jerked on the leash, lunging towards the trees lining the river. I snapped my head up, scanning with my night vision. A deer, a raccoon, and several rabbits scampered away in terror. “Hunter, no!” I admonished, pulling him back towards the house. With a growl, he turned, and finished his business.

  As I was pulling open the door, letting Hunter run in ahead of me, I saw someone standing in the trees off to my right where the line twisted around the apartment building and out of sight. Turning sharply, I squinted into the darkness.

  They were gone.

  Chapter 10

  I was flying on a horse inside the temple. His muscles bunched beneath me as he kicked at the air, the power between my legs at once thrilling and terrifying as I clung to his bare back. My hands were wrapped in fistfuls of his ebony mane, my chin just barely missing his neck with every gallop. We drifted towards the ceiling, chasing something I couldn’t see. I knew I needed to go faster. Digging my heels into the solid rock of horse beneath me, I urged him faster. We reached the ceiling and whipped in a circle around the goddesses, my eyes scanning the temple for the one I was pursuing.

  My short brown dress was made of animal hide. It floated around my legs. Boots of the same material encased my feet and inched up my calves to my knees. My hair was down, billowing in waves behind me. Catching sight of something on the ceiling, I brought my steed up short, sliding in sideways to a stop. It was an odd sensation, stopping on air.

  An almost invisible hole was set into the heavy stone, and an equally invisible line marked a door in the ceiling. Gazing around, I was able to make out what looked like twelve more doors in various places. Reaching for the hole above me, I slid a finger in to open it…

  I jerked awake, my legs slamming down on the mattress with such force I felt the walls shake. Hunter jumped to his feet beside me on the comforter, barking. I tucked him against me, cooing into his floppy ear until he calmed down. Until my heart stopped pounding.

  Problem was, I didn’t have anyone to calm me down. The dream had shaken me, and I didn’t know why. Amber sunlight was coming through the window, shades of crimson splashing across the hardwood floor beside my bed from where the curtains gaped. After a few rounds with the TV, it’d been lights out before midnight. Like I’d done the first week, I had slept through the noises of the hunt.

  Addie mewled angrily at me from my shoulder, her puffball tail flicking against my face. “Can’t forget the princess,” I murmured, using my other hand to scratch her pointy ears. She purred in response, rubbing her cheek across my palm.

  I fell back to sleep with both pets curled against me.

  *********

  Standing before my pitifully bare kitchen cabinets at noon the next day, I decided to make the drive to York and pick out new dishes. A box of hand-me-downs from Theresa had accompanied me to England, only for three bowls, two glasses, and one plate to survive the journey. I wanted to see the city, anyway.

  The phone trilled while I was lolling about on the couch. I had to run upstairs to get it, slipping on the hardwood in my socks. “Hello?”

  “Vale? It’s Katherine,” a familiar voice purred over the line.

  “Hey, Katherine, what’s up?”

  “Did you still want to come out with us tonight?”

  Shit. Melissa and I were supposed to go see Jordan’s wife while he was at work.

  “Sure thing,” I told her, attempting to dry off with one hand. “Where are we going?”

  I wrote down her instructions and said goodbye.

  Padding downstairs with the phone, I dug around the basket on the counter for the pink slip of paper on which Melissa had written her number. It rang five times and went to voicemail, so I left a short message letting her know I was calling to see if she wanted to take a road trip. I told her I’d call her when I got back from the city to set up plans for the evening, and that we were going out with some girls for work. Swerving my arm around a vocal Addie, I put the phone back in its cradle.

  Glancing at the old cow clock above the window over my kitchen sink, I saw it wasn't even one yet. Outside the open, sheer curtains of my window, the rain beat on. It even looked cold. I decided a bath was in order.

  I picked up clothes from the floor and furniture while my bath ran, tossing dirty stuff in the hamper and clean stuff back in the drawers where they belonged. One thing I missed about my mom: she picked up my room. I came across a stack of the articles I’d printed off down at the library. Two names lined in yellow highlighter jumped out at me—the journalist who covered the deaths and the officer in charge of the case.

  Going back downstairs, I whipped the phone from the charger and dug through the deep drawer beside my sink for the telephone directory. I found an office number for the Quicksilver Courier and dialed.

  “Paper!” an Australian man barked through the phone. I jerked it away from my head and gave it a stern look. Right, he couldn’t see me. But it made me feel good.

  “I need to speak to Hilda Manning, please.”

  “She’s not in. She gets the weekends off,” his tone suggested underlying bitterness. Or maybe blatant bitterness. “I can make an appointment for you.”

  “Please.” Someone shat on this guy at some point, making him hate the universe.

  “Monday at one?” It would severely deplete my sleep, but I was in no mood to ask this guy for anything that would cause him to go off on me.

  “Monday at one is fine,” I replied. “Vale Avari.”

  “You’re in the book.”

  “Thank you for your time,” I told him as he hung up on me. I sighed. It’s really annoying when people take out their disgust for life on you. Flipping forward a couple pages, I found the number for the police station.

  “Quicksilver post, how may I help you?” a pleasant sounding woman answered.

  Now, that’s much better. “Hi, I need to set up an appointment to see Sergeant John Mahoney.”

  “May I inquire as to what it references?” the bright, young female voice said. Talking on the phone was so detaching. I boiled down my interactions with others to voices.

  “The Wild Hunt.” I thought fast. “I’m a visiting journalist from America and I had a few questions about the case.” I’d tell him the truth when I saw him, and the lie would get me in without pointing at me as a suspicious character. That was my assumption, anyway.

  “Stand by one moment.” I listened to some bad muzak until she clicked back on. “M’am, I can fit you into Sergeant Mahoney’s schedule Tuesday at nine a.m. Would that be alright?”

  “Absolutely, thank you.”

  “What’s your name, dear?”

  I gave her my information, scribbling down the date and time of both my appointments on the pad of paper beside my phone. She wished me a good weekend and rang off.

  Dipping into the basket-in-a-box Theresa had mailed the day I got on the plane, I pulled out a bottle of lavender oil, homemade apricot scrub, and eucalyptus bath salts for my bath and skipped up the stairs. After sprinkling liberally with lavender and eucalyptus, I sunk into the overly warm, wonderfully scented water with a sigh.

  Anya’s face floated behind my eyelids. I opened them, staring at the candlelit ceiling. Something nagged me about my dinner argument the night before with Brett. He’d seemed so defens
ive about the Wild Hunt, and his belief that it was definitely the reason five girls were missing. Between Melissa and me, we knew Anya and Rebecca Glory were dead. There was no doubt in my mind the other three were as well.

  Brett had said Melissa and I were the only girls working at the Temple now. A stab of fear shot through me as it came together that the time was almost right for another girl to go missing. The killer must have been familiar with the girls they took, because a couple of them had been really fast and really strong. That kind of capture would take a level of understanding only a close acquaintance would have; and the only tie the girls shared was the Temple. I worried which one of us the killer would go after and something inside me knew it would be Melissa. The weaker of the two.

  *********

  After my bath, I tossed some dry food out for each animal and left them chowing down to find something to wear. My closet was full to bursting. Maybe I’d invest in a build-it-yourself armoire while I was out, too, if there was such a thing in England. I chose a loose pair of indigo blue jeans to accommodate the PMS that I could feel setting in, and an old Frog Lick High T-shirt I’d had since I went back to school my Sophomore year after a stretch of home tutoring. Tossing a dark gray hooded sweatshirt over my head, I packed my black over-the-shoulder satchel and said a quick goodbye to Addie and Hunter.

  The drizzle had dimished while I was soaking in the tub, leaving a pretty day in its wake. The sun was shining from the apex of the sky, and a few fluffy clouds drifted lazily. I hit the button to unlock the Coop and slid into the driver’s seat. Lucy woke up sleepily as I programmed my destination.

  The road to York was dotted with small, quaint homes, thin wisps of smoke curling from brick chimneys. I passed field after field of cows in various shades of black, brown, and white spotted, tenderly ensconced in curved and winding stacked stone walls. Within an hour, I was navigating into a public parking lot at the edge of the city and heading for the Tourist office at Exhibition Square.