by Ainsley Shay
“You just tell me when,” he said.
“Now.”
We got back to my apartment around five. I was surprised at the few things I wanted. This was a good thing because the apartment could only fit so much. Blacwin helped me move in the armoire that used to be my mother’s, and thankfully, it fit perfectly on the wall next to the bed. We put the set of stairs that stopped at the ceiling and went nowhere just on the other side. When I had needed something in my room to hang clothes, belts, and scarves, I found the stairs tucked away in our garage. I got creative, and they became a fixed ornament in my room. They were probably for a project my dad was working on at some point, but that would be forever unfinished. When the ladder-like stairs weren’t so buried with crap, they actually looked pretty cool, Blacwin had admitted.
Blacwin brought up the last few boxes while I unpacked. I hung a few things in the armoire and stacked some of my favorite books on the side table next to the couch. He set the last box down and offered to go pick up the Chinese food while I finished unpacking.
As I switched out the bedspread for mine, the small apartment felt more familiar and comfortable. I knew I had made the right decision to stay here. On the way from my dad’s, we had stopped at the hardware store and bought picture hangers. I hung the few pictures my mom had painted over the couch. I unpacked the box with the photo albums, the DVD player, a small collection of my favorite movies, and put them in the hutch under the TV. It took everything I had not to open the album and take a walk down memory lane. I closed the door to the hutch and locked away those memories for another day. Instead, I went to the closet and retrieved the box with the statue. Like I had done with Chandler, I set it on the coffee table.
When the knock came, I jumped. I was expecting him, but the noise caught me off guard. I got up and looked through the peephole. Blacwin was back with the Chinese food. When I opened the door, he had the most delectable smile on his lips. He came in and kicked the door closed with his foot. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
I looked around the small space. “Thanks to you, it feels more like home than a hotel room.”
He looked at the counter top in the kitchen and noticed the candle burning. I immediately felt stupid for lighting it, I hadn’t thought that it might look like I was trying to set the mood.
He tucked away the smile I saw forming and set the box of food on the coffee table next to the shoebox. Still bent, he looked at me and then at the box. I nodded to his silent question. I went into the kitchen, grabbed two cans of soda from the fridge and two glasses, and brought them back to the couch. The last thing I wanted was to be burping in front of Blacwin. He unpacked the food while I poured our drinks. When he handed me chopsticks, I gave him a wry smile and shook my head. “I’ll starve before I get the first bite in.”
“Here, let me show you.” He took my hand, positioning my fingers over the sticks. With his hand still on mine, we gathered a bite of the noodles and brought it to my mouth. “I won’t let you starve.”
I swallowed and said, “Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.” Clearing his throat, he slowly removed his hand from mine, but left his stare on me. “I uh...”
“Yeah,” was all I managed to say. In a daze, I tried to work the chopsticks again. Fail. I wanted him to show me again, but with the palpable tension building between us, that wasn’t going to happen. “I think I’m gonna use a fork.”
He lowered his gaze from my eyes to my lips. “Might be a good idea.” He reached for his pair of chopsticks and his dinner from the coffee table.
The apartment was too quiet as we ate. I stole a glance at him. He was quite good with those chopsticks. “What did you get?”
“Honey garlic chicken.”
A few more silent moments passed. “Thanks for helping me today,” I held up the box of Lo Mein, “and for dinner.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
I didn’t know what that meant, so I took another bite to hide my naiveté. I wished this was a normal date: watch a movie, laugh, possibly snuggle. But it wasn’t, I had invited him here for a reason, a purpose. “Do you want to see what I found at my dad’s house?”
“Yes, I do.”
I traded my container of food for the shoebox. I suddenly felt uncomfortable for wanting to share this part of me with him. I didn’t know how he would react.
He must have noticed my awkwardness. He set his food down and lifted my chin to meet his gaze. “Hey, you don’t have to do this.”
I stared into his dark eyes and realized there was no reason for my reluctance, or was it fear? “I want to.” I lifted the lid off the box and took out the bundle of cloth. Layer by layer I shed the protective cloth until I was holding the whimsical-like statue.
“May I?”
I handed the statue to him. “There was a note that came with it, when it was delivered to my dad.” I read the cryptic note to him.
“What mark?”
The mark that labeled me a certifiable freak, I thought. He would be out the door in less than a second. But, I’d come this far, and there was no going back now. I stood and lifted the hem of my shirt until my tattoo was completely visible. The mark was hidden by the tattoo’s wave-like hair that extended just underneath my breast.
Blacwin reached out and glided his finger over my tattoo. He traced the waves of her hair and neck down to the delicate hand that held a necklace. He briefly looked at me, then the statue, and finally back at the tattoo. His fascination continued as he studied her body and followed the length of several lines, where what would be legs or the tail of a mermaid, ended in slight gentle curls. She was what the observer wanted her to be. To me, she was the perfection of my mother, whom I barely remember walking or swimming. So, I always imagined her floating above me, making sure I was safe.
The warm tips of his fingers sent chills over my bare stomach as he touched the mark. No one had ever touched my birthmark before. I had never let anyone touch it before now. Even when Justin and I would fool around, there were limits as to where I would let him touch me, and that spot was completely off limits.
Blacwin’s fingers paused as he looked up at me. “Do you know what it is?”
I couldn’t speak so I shook my head no. The slightly curved end with a hooked point in the center and a thick base had always just been an ugly dark mark that I hated. I’d never thought it was anything.
Still holding the statue in his other hand, he glanced down at it and then looked at me, really looked at me. Fear, concern, hope, disbelief, all melded together in his stare. When he spoke, I knew why.
“It’s a carving knife.”
35
Blacwin’s hand slid off my body. I wasn’t sure what to say after those words. They coincided with Chandler’s words and his reaction when I showed him the statue and the note, The Carving Witch. I eased my shirt down and sat back down on the couch. He set the statue on the coffee table. I stared at it; it was beautiful. It was an exact replica of my tattoo in 3-D. I decided then that I wouldn’t keep it in the box anymore. This, my newfound world of people and places that were strange and mysterious, wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and I had to face it. There was no reason to hide from whatever was coming.
“My dad left me this.” I handed the envelope to him. He pulled out the paper, unfolded it, and like Chandler, read it in silence. His face didn’t changed until he reached the end when he winced.
I wanted so badly to believe that he was not part of the people who were trying to hunt me down. I knew he came here, to this inept small town, for a reason, to kill someone, but I still had no idea who. He had even been forthcoming, and told me he was here to kill someone, but who? Timing was usually the key to everything; it was also a key I’d never possessed. So, before I lost my nerve, I blurted out the words. “Who did you come here to kill?”
Blacwin looked more furious now, than pained. Was he angry with me for asking him, or at the thought of someone he hated enough to ki
ll? Abruptly, he stood and went to the kitchen. He had to assume that I would eventually ask. I didn’t know if his intentions were logical or right, but he had trusted me enough to disclose his plans. I had, in turn, resolved to trust him. I was someone’s prey, my hope was, he wasn’t that someone.
His gaze was far away. “He’s not here. I came here to find Adelina; she’s the only one who knows how to destroy him.”
“Who?” I asked. I let out a long breath and watched him pace back and forth like a caged animal.
“Lord Darenfys.” When he looked across the room at me, his eyes pleaded with me to understand.
My God. “He’s alive?” I got up and went to him. I gently laid my hand on his forearm, at the edge of his tattoo.
He stopped pacing. Without looking at me, he said, “I don’t want you to be frightened by me.”
“I know there are other-worldly things happening here, and somewhere in the middle of all of it is me, and I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.” His arm stiffened under my touch. I went on, sounding like a hot mess. “I feel confused and creeped out about almost everything in my life right now: devastated over losing my dad, guilty every second of every day, annoyed I can’t fix it, empty, alone... but, scared of you? No. I’m not afraid of you.”
He turned, and my hand slid from his arm as he cupped my face in his hands. The depths of his dark eyes were infinite. Our faces were only breaths apart, but he still seemed too far away.
“I never thought in a million years, I’d be standing here with you,” he said.
My insides heated and crumbled into a pile of ash. My mind smashed apart every thought it tried to form. I ached for him to kiss me. Then, as if reading my mind, he did. His mouth was soft and tender. It was as if he drew a piece of silk across my lips. When he pulled away, his eyes were smoldering on the edges of the dark irises. Heat flooded my belly. He lowered one hand from my face and rested it on my waist. The other pushed my bangs away from my face. His eyes never left mine. I could have stood there forever. He was beautiful, and he made me feel beautiful.
His voice was low and still laced with disbelief as his words filled the air. “There’s so much I want to share and do with you. So many things I want to show you.”
I was drowning in his words. He wanted to be with me. My heart raced. My cheeks were hot. My nerve endings tingled. My body was reacting in ways I didn’t know were possible. I swear I could feel my cells dividing. Thoughts that should have been forbidden circled in my mind.
“I should go.”
The last thing I wanted was for him to go. I felt safe with him here. Don’t go! The words shouted in my head. I wanted to ask him to stay, but that would have been a little forward. Plus, I hadn’t wanted him to think I was that kind of girl. I closed my eyes and nodded.
Blacwin stood by the open door. He kissed the corner of my mouth. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
I watched him walk down the stairs. He turned on the last step and glanced over his shoulder. Then, he was gone. I closed the door behind me and slid down its length until I was sitting on the floor. I could still smell his scents. The empty feeling returned, and so did the exhaustion.
24 days after ~
It wasn’t the guard who knocked on my door, but Lord Darenfys, again. His personal guard stood behind him. “Ah, my love. I’ve missed you. You have refused to come to dinner for six nights now. I’m worried about you. You must be starving.”
He tried to reach for me, but I stepped back. “Don’t call me that! And, if you are so worried about me, why won’t you send me food?”
He tilted his head and considered for a moment. “I would like you to eat with me, your beloved Lord.”
“I will die before I ever love or serve you.”
“You will learn to love me.”
“Never!” I turned my back on him. His claw-like grip had wrapped around my neck before I took another step. The nails protruding from his fingers were like daggers. I felt wetness seep down my neck. I was in the grip of something that might have been decent at one time, but not anymore. He turned me around to face him. The look in his eyes was horrifying. His gaze slithered down to my lips. Faster than I could turn my head, his mouth was on mine, hard and forceful. I tried to turn my head, but his grip was too strong. I screamed, but no one heard. The scream never broke free from my throat. My feet barely touched the ground as he held me. Something snapped inside of me, and I felt myself go limp against his grip.
He loosened his vice-like grip from around my neck, and I was able to turn away from him. Tears rolled down my cheeks and neck. I feared what he would do to me next, and I squeezed my eye shut.
Hot breaths of air washed over my cheek. He brought his mouth to my ear and whispered, “I will give you until tomorrow evening to find it in your heart to love me. If you do, we’ll live happily ever after. If you don’t, you’ll know suffering like none other.” He moved his mouth to my neck, and his wet scorching tongue lapped the trail of blood he had created.
I was horrified when I woke. I still felt the Lord’s hands around my throat, his mouth on mine, his tongue on my neck. I ran to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. Frantically, I tried to wash away his touch from my body. I scrubbed and scrubbed, but his touch remained on me. I could feel it. I swore I could feel his hot breath on my neck. It wouldn’t come off. My neck was blotchy and felt raw. Defeated, I fell to the floor. The nightmares owned me and there seemed to be no escape. I was scared I was losing myself to them; surrendering my life to the demons in my unconscious world. The tears came fast and a sob broke free. I wish Blacwin had stayed with me.
Sunlight glared at me through the balcony window, like a siren announcing its presence. I must have fallen asleep on the bathroom floor. I pushed myself off the floor and stood. Looking in the mirror, I saw the reflection of a girl I wasn’t sure I knew anymore. Her eyes drooped, and her pale face hovered above her raw neck. I traced the tender area with my fingers, and the pain was instant. I walked back to my bed, using the wall for support. This last nightmare was horrible, the worst one yet. I stopped just before I reached the bed. Two realizations slammed into me: the nightmare wasn’t in color and it wasn’t just some girl, some stranger named Catherine. It was me.
36
With only a little of my help, Mr. Yves was making Yves Antique Pages look more manageable. I hoped that he wouldn’t get rid of all the stacks on the floor... that’s what the bookshop was known for.
Like the first time he walked through the door, Blacwin again had made me lose all sense of everything around me. This time, he held two cups. God, I hoped one of those was for me, and it was coffee.
He maneuvered through the store, finding his way to me. “How are you beautiful?”
I wasn’t expecting to hear that and my heart ached to hear it again. “Better now.” The smile on my face must have looked clown-like, but I didn’t care.
A grin tugged at his lips. “Me, too.” He bent and kissed my lips. “Do you mind if I hang out here with you today, or is that too stalker-ish?”
“I’m not sure that’s even a word, so that would be impossible.” The thought that he wanted to hang out with me while I worked was saying a lot.
He handed me one of the cups. “Just the way you like it.”
“Grateful doesn’t even begin to cover this.” I tipped the cup to my lips and tasted Dana’s liquid heaven.
Blacwin set his cup on the side table next to the club chair. “I’m going to look for something to read.”
I tried not to stare as he perused the shelves and stacks. When I looked at him again, he was in the chair, book in hand, and sipping his coffee. Okay, calm yourself, Iris. Yes, he’s freaking scorching hot, polite, kisses me in a way that needs no words, brings me coffee, but hell!—he likes to read! Breathe girl—send oxygen to your brain before you pass out.
I tried to concentrate on work, but he made it harder than I thought possible. Music. Music would be a good distraction. �
��Do you mind if I put on some music?”
“Not at all.” The tone in his voice sounded far away and caught in another place and time.
I went to the back storeroom and turned on the radio. The speakers in the store cackled until I found a good reception. When I came out, Chandler and Blacwin were in a face-off. Snow was peeking out from behind Chandler by the entrance.
“Hey, guys.” My light toned greeting did nothing to ease the tension between them. What happened to make them this hostile to each other?
“I thought I warned you to stay away from him,” Chandler snarled.
“I think she’s free to make her own choices,” Blacwin said as he held Chandler’s stare.
Snow came out from behind Chandler. “Come on guys. Why so much hate?”
Leave it to Snow to get in the middle of two over-heated guys.
“Why should she trust you?” Blacwin’s voice was strained with anger. His hands curled into balls and then released. Eyes as fierce as a tiger’s stared into Chandler’s, whose were just as dangerous looking. Both of them were ready to attack or defend at any second.
Chandler’s jaw worked. “I wasn’t the one who let her die.”
Blacwin flinched like he’d been slapped with an open palm across his face. “You don’t think I’m tortured by that every damned day?” His voice was a deep growl.
What, in God’s name, were they talking about?
“You shouldn’t have run away and left her. You’re nothing but a coward,” said Blacwin. His chest rose and fell as he tried to hold onto his control.
Oh crap, this was going south faster than Chandler’s Porsche.
“Don’t you dare throw that at me. You know why I left, and I had trusted you to keep her safe. I wasn’t the coward. You’re the one who stayed, even after it was too late. You chose to be one of his hounds,” barked Chandler.
“I left, escaped was more like it, as soon as I heard of her...” Blacwin hadn’t finished.