She pulled down the heavy, wooden blinds and hurried to the bathroom to change into her pajamas. Collapsing into the bed opposite from Marita, Sarma reviewed the bizarre evening. First, the old woman babbling warnings. Then two strangers stalked her. And the hottest guy she had ever seen appeared angry with her for no apparent reason. She searched her mind. It struck her again that she couldn’t remember what he looked like. Not his clothes, hair color, or anything particular about him. At the club, that’s where she saw him but the rest of the evening remained hazy.
There was something else. Marita didn’t have those bruises the day before. What happened? It bugged her that she couldn’t place it. Her skin crawled. She wanted to leap out of her body. Why did she even go out? Why did she always go along with things she didn’t want to do? She pulled the comforter up to her shoulders and passed out.
Marita's shouts shocked her awake.
“Rise and shine! It's 4 p.m., and we have to get to my aunt's house.”
Sarma opened her eyes and grinned at her cousin. Being an only child with a single parent had been lonely. Her father had passed away when she was four when they lived in San Francisco where she was born. Marita was the closest thing to a sister Sarma would ever have. She leapt from the bed whacking Marita with a pillow. Marita chased her around the room snapping her with a damp towel. Sarma shrieked and slammed the bathroom door in Marita’s face.
Outside, the afternoon sun brought Sarma back to herself, felt refreshing and renewing. They stopped for a quick coffee before heading to eat at Marita’s aunt’s house.
“So you gonna tell me about last night? I thought you were all about Derek.” Marita grinned, her curly blond hair bounced as she spoke.
“What about last night?” Sarma mumbled wishing Marita didn’t have the need to re-hash this.
“Come on, stop it already. No one’s perfect, admit it, you checked him out.”
“Sure. I had a look,” Sarma hesitated for a moment. “He was steamy, right?” A smile curled upward on her lips and she flicked her eyebrows.
“Better. I would classify him as model status. Like he belongs on the cover of a magazine. And he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”
“I peeked. There's nothing wrong with that.”
“Right. Peeked as in your eyes were glued to him. I've never seen you look at Derek that way.” Marita sipped her coffee.
“Maybe I was attracted to him. But did you see the snarl on his face as he left? He eyed me as if I’d pissed him off.”
“Yeah, weird. One second he acted hot and bothered, the next, like he would chew you out.”
“What about it, anyway? Here we are going on about a guy I’ll never see again. Besides, I broke up with Derek. I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Her brain galloped straight to the stranger and a sexual fantasy. She in his arms. His hot kisses on her neck. His hand caressing her thigh.
“Wait. You broke up with him? When did this happen?” Marita stopped eating.
“Before we left. All those things I kept telling you about, they weren’t changing. He’s never really had time for me, just made a bunch of empty promises. After three years of him dragging me along, I couldn’t take it anymore. And plus, I’m pretty sure he cheated on me and he wanted to propose.”
“Cheated on you? Are you serious? And propose? You haven’t even met his family yet. What was he thinking? That’s crazy.” She glanced toward the café door. “We can talk more later. We need to go. My aunt and uncle live on the other side of the Daugava. We’re going to discuss our plans for Jani at dinner. Think you’ll get the chance to search for the magic fern flower in the countryside? After all, what happens at Jani stays at Jani.” Marita snickered again as she mentioned the solstice celebration to be held later in the week.
“What are you talking about?”
“Never mind. You'll find out later. Aunt Erika's waiting.”
Along the way to the trolley bus stop, they stopped for flowers. Marita greeted a well-dressed woman who stood behind a table. Plastic buckets burgeoned with an array of freesia, peonies, and lilies, among others. Marita chose sweet peas and paid.
The bus bumped up and down as they crossed the Suspension Bridge. Silver cables slanted into the sky against heavy clouds. Sarma heard it often rained in Latvia during the summer and hoped the weather would stay sunny. She stared out the window as the trolley bus lurched through town. What did he have planned for solstice? Why was she still thinking of him? She would never see him again.
Hopping off at their stop, Sarma shivered, her jacket too thin for the breezy afternoon. They approached a circle of tall, concrete units built around a communal, open space—not as elegant as their rented downtown apartment. Marita held open a wooden door with chipped paint as they entered a musty stairwell. Their footsteps click-clacked on the stairs as they climbed four flights to Erika's floor.
“Sveika, Marita.”
Bright light from the apartment lit up the dim hallway as Erika swung the door open and greeted her niece with a big hug. They hadn't seen each other in two years.
“This is Armands and Erika, my aunt and uncle, and my cousins, Lilija and Janis.” Marita introduced them by translating, and a round of handshaking followed.
While Marita chatted, Erika placed the flowers in a clay vase carved with geometric designs in the center of the table. A huge feast stood ready on the dining room table, platters smothered in sandwiches, sausages, salad, pīrāgs, potatoes, and headcheese.
“That's how we feed guests,” Janis announced in English.
“Looks, garšīgi!”
Everyone laughed at Sarma's attempt to say delicious in Latvian.
The family passed her every dish and asked her about life in Penngrove, the small town north of San Francisco. She showed them pictures of herself teaching yoga and riding horses.
Meanwhile, they stuffed her with apple cake and pastry puffs filled with whipped crème. A bright, yellow box of Latvian Laima Prozit candies rounded the table. Rum squirted in Sarma’s mouth as she bit into one of the dark chocolates.
She put her cell phone away, and the conversation turned to plans for Jani. “We’ll pick you up the day after tomorrow to shop for food. Show you our big market. Then we drive to Salacgriva for Jani. We go there every year. It’s a popular place. Very beautiful,” Lilija explained in English.
They sat around the table and chatted, doing the best they could to translate the conversation. Sleepy from a mix of delicious food and foggy jetlag, Sarma yawned.
“Tired?” Armands said, and Marita translated.
“Jā,” Sarma said with a smile. Yes, one of the few words she knew in Latvian.
“I’ll call you a taxi, yes?” Armands offered. “It’s too late to take public transit.”
Sarma and Marita thanked them and gathered their things.
Outside, the cold air shocked Sarma awake. For the second time that evening, she wished she’d brought a heavier jacket. She zipped the flimsy thing up as they entered the courtyard in the apartment complex. Streetlights glowed as they walked along the winding concrete path and an area filled with play equipment, benches, and more paths. Planted flowers, pine, and birch trees cast heavy shadows across the dark yard.
“Your family was so kind to me.” Sarma turned away, not wanting Marita to see her shiny eyes.
“What's wrong?” Marita stopped her, concern in her voice.
“I wish I was closer to my mom, and that she had a relationship with yours. I wish my dad hadn't died so I could have known him better. I wish I could find my relatives.” Sarma paused on the path. Her mother stopped speaking to the family when her father died. They didn’t just move; they moved into isolation. Sarma rarely visited Marita’s mom.
“You can borrow my family. I know it's not the same, but I'm so glad we came here.” Marita hugged her.
Sarma’s muscles tensed. For a quick second, it appeared something moved. “Did you see that?” Sarma pointed toward a circle of white birch trees. The
ir dangling branches danced on the breeze. Silence.
“Huh?”
“A person.” She pointed.
“I didn’t see anyone.”
Sarma's shoulders tightened like the night before. The hair on her forearms stood up.
“It’s the wind in the tree branches,” Marita offered.
The courtyard was laden with darkness and silhouettes, but the outline of a figure slipped behind a tree.
“Let's get out of here.” Sarma grabbed Marita.
“What are you doing?” Marita protested as Sarma yanked her along, sprinting over the lawn, instead of the path, to the taxi waiting at the curb.
Sarma opened the backseat door, shoved Marita in, and crashed in beside her.
Once warm and safe, Sarma dared to peek out the window as the cab pulled into the street. A shadowy form slipped behind a thick-trunked pine. She couldn't see any details, but someone was there. The knot in her shoulder gripped.
Back at the apartment, they raced to the door. The building’s front door needed a security code to enter, which relieved Sarma. Even though the shadowy figure stayed far across town, a crawling sensation still swept over Sarma’s skin.
“Scary.” Sarma slammed the door and locked the deadbolt.
“Sarma, I didn’t see a thing.”
“Well, someone was there. I saw a silhouette.” She faced Marita; her fists squared on her hips.
“You’re probably tired. We can sleep in tomorrow.”
“Marita, I’m not making this up. A person came out of the shadows when the taxi took off.” Sarma’s raised her voice a little too high for casual conversation.
“Maybe somebody out for a walk.” Marita headed toward the bedroom.
“Right, Marita. Why would someone hang around in the shadows?” She paused, clutching the edge of the chair in front of her. “It's whacky, but you know who I thought of?” Sarma’s' voice receded to a whisper. “The woman with Mr. GQ at the club.”
“Come on. Why would she follow us?” Marita's forehead wrinkled. “I’m not trying to be rude, but that seems a little far out.”
“I don’t know why, but she’s the first person that popped in my mind. Can I sleep with you? Maybe leave a light on?”
“Fine.” Marita closed the blinds, helped Sarma open the hide-a-bed sofa, and dragged their blankets to the living room.
Ramped up with worry, Sarma stared at her travel clock until 3 a.m. Her stomach hurt. Her mind wouldn’t stop swinging like a pendulum from the stunning man to the snarling woman. Since last night, his image continued to enter her mind. Too often. Her mind was filled with fantasies of a long, heavy kiss fearing Raven would interrupt them and throttle Sarma to the floor.
With each thought she entertained, the hunger for him consumed her even more. But the rage in the raven-haired woman's eyes made it clear Sarma should stay away.
Outside, thunder rumbled, and rain pelted the windows. Listening to the downpour, Sarma shook her head. Another reason she couldn’t have stayed with Derek. He just didn’t do it for her. Comparing the stranger and Derek, she now understood the kind of passion she longed for. Staying with Derek would never have provided her with what she felt about GQ.
Maybe she and Marita could go back to Pulkvedim Neviens Neraksta. Just to find out if he went there often or if anyone knew him.
What the hell was she thinking?
In less than a half an hour in a nightclub, she’d become obsessed with a man she didn’t even know.
Chapter 4
Back in Old Riga, Reinis stared at the entrance of the Neiburgs Hotel, half considering turning back. Any other day, the magnificent Art Nouveau sculpture above the doorway would be breathtaking. A massive, stone face with carved filigree lace below its chin was set against a pale-yellow background. Following the angle of the entry, flowing hair framed the feminine shape. Her eyes seemed to pose his question—what was he doing here? He answered the question. He had duty tonight.
Since Reinis discovered Sirsniņa in the club, he reeled, imagining ways he could find out where she was, but he kept telling himself to stay away.
Instead of shirking his obligation, he stood, frozen, with humans passing him as he entered the hotel. If he followed his craving to track Sirsniņa, all sorts of alarms would fire off. Laima would be the one to track him. Sighing, he grasped the glass door.
“Reinis. I’ve been looking for you. We need to talk.”
Reinis stopped in his tracks and swiveled toward Velta. “Right now?”
“Nu, jā.” Well, yes, she answered.
“You have ten minutes. I have duty right now,” he responded, glancing at his phone as they took the conversation down the street. Velta was dressed in her usual tight jeans and silk blouse with the V-neck unbuttoned.
As soon as they were separate from others, Velta launched in. “Focused on duty, huh?”
Reinis swallowed. He’d tried to keep his fascination with Sirsniņa under wraps. “Don’t worry about me. I can look at and sleep with whoever I want, just like you, Velta. I’m never in your business, so why are you in mine?”
She gave him a sly grin. “Because the King of Cool almost lost it. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. As long as you keep to yourself, so will I.”
“You came all the way over here to talk to me about nothing?” His palms sweat, but he smiled.
“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She crossed her arms.
“About what?”
“C’mon, Reinis. We both know you were into her. Too much.”
“She was hot. I checked her out. Big deal. Did I talk to her? Leave with her? No.” Reinis tried to keep his tone nonchalant.
“Humans hurt you when you least expect it,” she continued. Her black hair cascaded around her face. With the towering heels she wore, she and Reinis stood eye to eye.
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” Reinis balled a hand up and pressed it against his forehead. He needed to get back to the restaurant.
“Stay away from her. Falling for a human causes nothing but hurt—not just for you. For everyone,” she replied and walked away before he said another word.
He brushed off her comments and stared down the empty street. Yeah, they hated humans, but Velta argued about everything. All the time. He checked his phone. Had Julija gotten tired of waiting and left the restaurant? He was supposed to have sex with her tonight. Shit. He’d rather jump off the Suspension Bridge and drown for a while.
One more date. The faster he finished, the sooner he could roam the city to uncover any tiny crumb of a clue that would lead him to Sirsniņa. He must be out of his mind, making plans to find a human he had no business even thinking about.
He approached Julija who sat at a table in the hotel restaurant. She worked as a secretary. Reinis pretended he needed services from her office to set up the “dates.” Like many of the bestowers, she was average in beauty. After meticulous research by the coven, they chose her for her health, intelligence, and strength. He read her thoughts. Though she wore a serene expression, she desperately wanted to fuck him. Perfect timing. He smelled she was ovulating through the pores of her skin.
She rose to greet him and kissed him on the cheek. “Nice to see you again.”
“How’ve you been?” He pulled the chair out and wished her lips belonged to the other woman.
Reinis was not attracted to Julija. She was friendly, but he didn’t need friendship. He didn't like the bestowers to fall for him. Quite the opposite, actually. He didn't want to hurt them. He preferred a quick, clean operation to decrease their pain.
Julija flirted over her drink, and although her efforts to attract him failed, the sexual heat still remained in his body from the previous night. She smiled at him and played with his leg under the table. To make his blood stir, he imagined Sirsniņa and sipped a whiskey on the rocks. He wished he could get drunk—heard the stuff made situations like these tolerable for humans. But alcohol had no effect on him. He left most of it in his
glass.
“I've been thinking about you,” she said, caressing his hand.
He sensed warmth gathering between her thighs. Her cleavage heaved with uneven breaths.
With Sirsniņa’s beautiful face in his mind, he tried to arouse himself, but no matter what he imagined, he couldn’t. The powerful emotions for Sirsniņa and what he envisioned doing with her clashed with the woman in front of him. This human made it impossible. His palms sweat and heat rose up the back of his neck. He never had a problem turning himself on whenever he wished. What if he couldn’t perform duty anymore? He’d be screwed. Eventually his coven would find out and that would be the end of him. He glanced around the spacious restaurant with its vaulted ceilings trying to get hold of himself.
“Is everything alright?”
“Everything's great. Thinking about how beautiful you are,” he lied and leaned across the table. A smile spread across his lips that melted the apex of her inner thighs. Normally, that excited him but right now he wanted to bolt.
Before they reached the hotel room, he established his plan. He’d never done it before, but he couldn’t sleep with Julija. Not with her or anyone else. Not for duty or for any other reason. Sirsniņa marked him. His heart thumped in his chest. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get caught.
He led Julija next to the bed and wrapped his arms around her waist as if to kiss her.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He whispered.
“Oh, yes, more than anything.” Her blue eyes flashed with desperate need.
Reinis’ body remained cold and limp. “I’m going to freshen up. Take off your clothes and wait for me under the covers.”
Without hesitation she began to strip as he ducked into the bathroom and rinsed off his face. When he returned, Julija laid in bed with the blankets pulled up over her breasts.
“You going to undress?” She smiled demurely.
“Shh, of course.” He placed his hand on the top of her head, caressing her hair. He didn’t need to touch her, but it made things faster, more effective. “Sleep now.”
Forbidden Darkness (Immortal Desire Series Book 1) Page 3