by Casey Moss
Buzz had become very powerful in the game if he and Alden couldn’t get a trace on Hope. He didn’t know if he would have been able to control himself as well as Alden was restraining himself if Faith disappeared.
He smiled at Faith who gazed back at him with sad, hazel eyes. He wished he could ease her pain and make her happy, as happy as he, despite the current circumstances.
He was ecstatic to have found Faith, his lifemate. He only wished she’d remember who she was and where she came from. But no matter how much he couldn’t stand his charade anymore, how tired he was of wearing all the makeup and the ski masks, he couldn’t force the enlightenment process on her. She had to come to her truth, her self-discovery on her own terms, in her own time. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t speed up the process. But once she reached the next stage, he’d finally be able to tell her he was...
“I’ll continue to do what I can to help find Hope,” Alden stated, interrupting Tavis’s thoughts. “I’ll need to take off for a while, though, to meet with some of my sources and to see if I can dredge up any leads.”
“But the trackers have said the trail is cold,” Faith supplied in a weak voice. “They’ve said you’ve helped them all you could…unless you’ve been holding something back,” she uttered, her voice rising. “Have you been holding back information that could help my sister? Huh? Have you?”
“Faith,” her mother admonished. “I’m sure Alden hasn’t held anything back from us or the police.”
Faith glared at her mother, then eyed Alden suspiciously.
“No, Faith, I haven’t held anything back. I’ve told them all I could. I will confer with my contacts and, perhaps through our brainstorming, we will come up with ideas on how to locate Hope.”
Tavis shifted in his chair. It squeaked under his pressure. The noise brought Faith’s attention around to him and, when her eyes caught his, he held her gaze and willed his thoughts to her. It will be all right. Alden loves your sister and will find her. There is no cause for any of you to fear.
Perhaps it was wishful thinking on his part, but she seemed to acknowledge him with a slight dip of her chin, the movement almost imperceptible, yet there.
“Big T will be around though,” Alden continued. “He’ll help to keep an eye on things here. I trust him.”
“I’m happy to hear, Big T, that you’ll be around.” James tipped a nod in his direction. “And that Alden trusts you. Alden is a good man. I value his judgment. I can’t help but feel Hope’s abduction is my fault.”
“Oh, James,” Grace mewled. “Please don’t blame yourself.” She placed a comforting hand on his forearm.
“I know.” He patted his wife’s hand then left his on top of hers. “But I can’t help it. I can’t help but think if I hadn’t been so hard on the girls, maybe they wouldn’t be so prone to getting in trouble and that Hope wouldn’t have left with that…that cad. Hopefully it’s not too late for me to change my ways, which brings me to a favor I need to ask of both you men. Grace and I have another diplomatic meeting. We really would hate to have to cancel it, especially now that our first treaty…” James’s words trailed off as he slipped in to thought.
“So what’s the favor, sir?” Tavis asked.
James looked to the man with watery eyes. “Oh, yes, the favor. I also have a feeling that you and Alden are here in our lives to protect our girls, and because of this I want to entrust their safety with you. Grace and I are still going to go to the meeting. There’s nothing we can do in Hope’s case, so we feel it’d be better if we go and help others and not sit around worrying about circumstances out of our control. What we need is for you two to stay here with the girls while we’re in our negotiations.”
“What?” Cassandra and Faith exclaimed in unison, similar shocked expressions on each face.
James held up a hand to them to ward off anything further from being said. “If the two of you could keep a close watch on the girls, and accompany them on their errands and such, we would be grateful.”
“It’d be an honor to take care of your family in your absence, sir,” Tavis expressed.
“Same here, sir,” Alden said. “Once I get back from meeting with my contacts, I’ll be more than happy to help Big T keep an eye on them.”
“Hey,” Cassandra interjected. “What about Justin? If you’re going to let their friends sleep over then what about mine?”
“I’ll not have that delinquent in my home. He’s bad news, a troublemaker. I’ve heard he has a record. If I find out he’s been here…” He held up a fist.
“James,” Grace exclaimed in a quiet gasp.
“Chill, Uncle James,” Cassandra responded with a wave of her hand. “Justin and I broke up, so you don’t have to worry about him coming round.” She rose and left the table.
“Cassandra…” James growled her name, then shouted after her. “Why do you try my patience?”
Later that evening, Cassandra, still in shock over her uncle’s decision, said as much when Faith entered the room she was staying in for the night. “And if he realized how much Big T is into you, he may not have chosen him as our babysitter.”
“What are you talking about?” Faith asked, puzzled, flopping stomach down beside her cousin on the floor. “Big T isn’t into me. We’re just friends.”
“The hell he’s not. You should see the way he looks at you, the way he acts around you. You really should give him a chance.”
“Oh, I don’t know. If something were to happen with Big T in this game, wouldn’t that still be considered cheating? I couldn’t do that to Tavis. Besides, I don’t even know what he really looks like. From what he’s told me he has terrible scarring from bad cases of acne when he was younger so even when he’s not on stage he’s in makeup or wears some sort of cover. I don’t think I’d recognize Big T without his masks.”
“So? Looks aren’t everything. You should stop being such a peacock. He’s smart and funny and...”
“You should date him then,” Faith countered, cutting off her cousin.
“Big T isn’t meant for me, but the guy who is, is on his way. It’s one of the reasons why I broke it off with Justin.”
Faith snorted from an old habit of disbelief. Though lately she had come around to believing her sister’s predictions and given her more credit in regard to her religion. She played with a pull in the rug.
“Are you still having those weird dreams?” Cassandra batted Faith’s hand away from the frayed threads of the carpet.
“Yeah, I am.” Faith rolled over on her back. She placed her arms over her face.
“I wonder why the tea I’ve been making for you isn’t working. Those herbs should be helping you sleep.”
“The tea does help,” she said, propping up on her forearms. “It knocks me out, that’s for sure. But it’s like an outside force opens a curtain in my mind and forces me to watch and participate in a play.”
“Let me tweak it a little bit and see if that helps.” Cassandra rose. “I’ll be right back.”
Faith peered into the very warm mug Cassandra handed to her before she shooed her to her room. Little flecks of plant material floated in the asparagus colored liquid. The tea Cassandra made to help her sleep was bland and gritty, pretty disgusting actually, but without it, she’d stare at the ceiling for hours on end, her mind afraid to release itself to slumber. She took a sip of the insipid drink, involuntarily scrunched her face like she had sucked on a bad lemon, then placed the container on her nightstand.
She threaded her fingers through her long hair, untangling each sienna strand before her eyes, then working the sections into a braid. Once she tied off the length, she finished her sister’s concoction and snuggled under the covers of her full sized bed. Quiet prayers filtered through her mind, whispered requests that she make it a full night without any dreams. Late in the night, she tossed fitfully in her bed as dream visions assailed her.
****
Faith stood in a torch and candle lit great hall
in front of the tall dream man whose forehead, eyes and nose remained hidden behind a hawk-like mask. Feathers smoothed back over the top of his head covered his dark hair. The beak sat upon his nose and his eyes, concealed by dark glass beads, stared vacantly at her.
Hawk-man turned and sat at a long wooden table, laden with chunks of red and white meats, strange colorful fruits and beans, lumps of bread stuff and transparent canisters of what appeared to be different types of wine. He picked up a book from beside his plate, handed it to her, then swept out his arm toward an empty section of the room.
With one hand on the book and the other grabbing a handful of her deep green, strapless evening gown so as not to trip on the hem, she moved to the vacant area. Dark paneling lined the walls. Elaborate woodcarvings accented the adornments and moldings. Windows on either side of a fireplace looked out upon a desert wasteland, reminding her of the desolate parts of Nevada. There was only one door to the room. The hawk-man sat between her and it, barring the way between her and escape…again.
A long, drawn out sigh passed her lips. She looked down upon the page and quickly read over the words of a play, the scene of a male and female proclaiming their love for one another during an argument. Enthusiasm surged through her. She eagerly acted out the passionate episode, employing appropriate voices and attitudes for the parts.
When she finished her rendering, hawk-man stood. Clapping, he approached her. His full, crimson lips moved without sound. A haze engulfed her mind as if she had taken too strong of an antihistamine. She swayed. The book dropped from her hand. Hawk-man steadied her, his long, strong fingers gripping and burning into the naked flesh of her upper arms. Transfixed by the beady, dark eyes of the mask, she barely registered his alluring mouth descending toward hers. A small gasp escaped from between her captured lips into his mouth.
The small opening created by her expelled breath beckoned him, uninvited, to deepen the kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, possessing her and her senses. He brought her closer to him, entwining one arm around her waist and grabbing the back of her head with the other. Her body trembled under his assault. A biological, unwanted response of wetness pooled at the juncture of her thighs. She shuddered again, realizing a subtle danger in the situation, and that he took her bodily reactions to mean arousal.
The arm around her waist moved down, keeping close contact. His hand grasped her ass. At the same time, the hand behind her head shifted to her chest. Hawk-man groped her breast. His thumb brought her nipple to a hard peak beneath the light material.
The kiss ended. Her gaze focused on the lips, only a couple of inches away, which had just caressed hers. The hawk-man smirked, then the corner of his mouth shot up in a wicked grin.
“You’re mine, my dear,” he drawled. “Mine here, same as you are anywhere. Remember this.”
She closed her eyes against the malice in his voice, against an unbelieving sight of golden yellow color wafting from her mouth into his.
Chapter Eight
“Well, look who’s here.” Cassandra stepped back from the open front door and let Tavis through with his bags. “You have some great timing, Big T. I just got here.” She winked.
“Ah, yes, you’re the one I couldn’t wait to see,” he joked back. He shifted the suitcase in his hand and jerked his shoulder to re-situate the strap of a second. “Now, if you’ll show me to where I’ll be staying, I’d really appreciate it.”
Cassandra closed the door against the growing darkness outside and motioned for the man to follow her upstairs to a guest room.
As he trailed behind her, making sure not to bang his bags against the walls, he eyed the white wallpaper printed with tiny flowers. Tavis hoped the room he’d be in wasn’t decorated in the same dizzying manner. The room she showed him to was free of wallpaper and instead painted a calming shade of pale blue. He placed his bags on the twin size bed, careful not to snag the old quilt covering the top of the mattress.
The ambiance of the house, lighter than it was a few days ago, and the absence of bags in his arms, made him breathe in a sigh of relief. Along with the lost somberness in the Collins’s home, James hadn’t mentioned anything weird going on. Cassandra seemed to be her sarcastic self.
Perhaps all is not as bad as Alden and I anticipated.
He opened a bag, pulled out a large makeup case and the ski masks he brought, and placed the items on a desk under the window.
Then again, he had yet to encounter Faith and see how she fared. She in her innocence and naiveté would be a prime mark as the next target. But how? How would that devil ensnare her? Buzz wasn’t even in town from what he and Den knew, which meant Buzz would either have assistance or have learned how to be in two places at once. He shook his head and emptied out the other bags, putting his clothes in the closet and drawers as his mind chewed over the problem. How to keep that man away from Faith was a riddle he needed to solve and figure out fast. He grabbed a canister of makeup remover from the case, a ski mask from the desk and headed toward the bathroom.
****
Faith shuffled out of the bathroom, her eyes open just enough to help her navigate back to her room where she could collapse onto her bed and take a nap. She stumbled into Big T. Her big toe connected with the hard sole of his shoe, sending a searing bolt of pain up her leg. She grabbed her foot and hopped around on the other until she encountered a wall to lean against. “That’ll wake a person up.” She rubbed the injured area. “Guess I deserved that for being barefoot and not paying attention.”
“Are you all right? I could have sworn you were looking straight at me.”
“Mmm, I’m sure it appeared that way.” Faith put her foot back onto the ground, testing her weight and balance on it. “But truthfully, I’ve been a bit of a walking zombie lately.” She looked up in to his brown puppy dog eyes, which were surrounded by layers of concealers, foundation, color and mascara. She stepped back, taking in the rest of him, the blush on his cheeks, the paint on his lips, his mussed up long, shaggy chocolate brown hair and quirked an eyebrow in amusement.
“What’s that look for?”
She chuckled. “I was just imagining you in a pair of spandex pants, a ripped tank top and a sash around your waist.”
“And why would you do that?” he asked, not sounding all too pleased.
“Because you look like a throwback to an Eighties hair band, that’s why. You went a bit heavy on the makeup today, didn’t you?” Special effects or not, maybe Cassandra was right. She should give the guy a chance. Just picturing him in a tight, rocker’s outfit churned her blood in a good way. The thought of having a chance to see him dressed that way in real life sent her heart fluttering.
He walked past her and into the bathroom. A wry smile touched his lips when he looked in to the mirror. “Uh, wow. What a difference between here and the theater. Ms. Lanson wanted application practice, and I forgot to tone down her attempts before I left there. No wonder I got a lot of stares on the way over here.”
He placed his items on the vanity. A weird color caught her attention. She took a closer look. A deep turquoise glow encased his hand and arm, a stark contrast to the glaring white bathroom counter.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get this gunk off my face.”
Her gaze darted from his hand, to his mouth and back again. The glow was gone. He closed the door in her face.
****
A heavy, gold-decorated wooden door opened in front of her. Hawk-man ushered her into a grand master bedroom suite. Dark wood paneled walls and rich royal colors of the décor gave the chamber a luxurious feel. A tall picture window across from the entryway allowed an unobstructed view of the desert and a distant mountain. On a far wall to her left, a big, plush four-poster bed loomed in frightening invitation.
Hawk-man took her hand and led her over to the window. As she looked out upon the land, he slipped his hand along her bare back. The lightweight silky material of the halter top and sarong dress she wore was cool compared to the heat o
f his skin. She turned her focus from the hand at her back to the view on the grounds below. She observed hawk-people milling about, some working, some lounging on benches and blankets and being served by others, an apparent class system in operation. A deepening shadow blocked the little bit of light outside, and in the reflection of the window, she watched Hawk-man’s lips move. Fascinated with their soundless motility, her gaze stayed fixed to the reflection. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the shadow drift away. The landscape and window slowly lit up. As this change occurred, his silent words sped up.
Without true conscious thought, she turned and dropped to her knees in front of him and unbuttoned the fastenings of his tight, leather-like trousers. In moments, she had the clothing down around his ankles and gazed upon his sex rising between his legs. Her arm involuntarily lifted. She stared in astonishment at her hand as her fingers formed an O around his shaft and loosely grasped it. With all her might she attempted to stop the action of sliding her hand up and down his length but couldn’t. Struck with alarm, she realized he must have hypnotized her somehow to make her act against her will.
But, a tiny voice in her mind chirped as her lips kissed and her tongue licked the hard cock’s head, you’re dreaming and he doesn’t have control of your mind.
The voice was right. The man had no influence over her thoughts and feelings. Relief washed through her, relaxing the panic constricted muscles in her shoulders. Going with the flow of her dream world, she let his scheme unfold as it might and let her mind run free with other thoughts. To make the situation more palatable, she pretended the man she had undressed was Big T, that it was the sexy pair of hot pink spandex pants she had rolled down those long, toned legs to his ankles, that it was his engorged cock she currently kissed and licked, his ass she held.
His hand reached around to the back of her head and pushed her face closer to him. Her lips rolled and covered her teeth as the tip of his cock popped in to her mouth. Sucking on the head, the fingers ringed around the base continued to glide up and down. She imagined the fingers entwining in her hair weren’t those of the hawk-man.