“Mind? Of course not. I’d love Gail to move in with us. I want you to be happy.”
Margot was lost in thought. “To be honest, I never really thought about living with someone. Huh,” she said, staring into the distance. “I like being by myself. And I love that you come home on weekends. But…”
“It would be nice to have a normal, healthy, consensual relationship?” I drawled, winking at her.
“You got me. I guess I need a dose of my own medicine.”
“You do. We might have to both get out of our comfort zone.”
She went to pick up the last bite of her dessert, and realizing it was gone, she glared at me.
I smiled back at her sweetly.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she said finally. “You agree to go on a date with a boy, and I’ll talk to Gail about moving in.”
My chest felt tight. “Margot…”
But she waved me away. “Honey, you’re not cursed. You’ve just been very unlucky.”
“But I don’t…”
“Yes, you do. You’re a normal woman with normal feelings and normal aspirations. It’s about time you found someone that lights your fire. Someone that treats you right.”
A vision of Alex Sorensen suddenly filled my mind, causing flutters deep down in my stomach. I quickly chased the thought away and glared down at my empty dessert plate. “I don’t know if any man can treat me right.”
“Yes, it’s not likely,” she nodded her head vigorously. “What would I know? But I’d like you to try.”
“My track record is hideous.” I hid my face in my hands.
“Just try an online dating profile,” Margot advised. “Put in your bio: No serial killers, please.”
“That’s a hell of a deal breaker.” I bit my lip. “It might be too much to ask.”
“Honey, I know we’re only kidding around here, but I do want you to think about it.”
I nodded. “I will. And I want you to know that I’d love Gail to live with us. Hell, I’m only here a couple of days a month, anyway. You could use the company. I don’t want you to end up like Mrs. Peterson from the other side of the valley.”
Mrs. Peterson was a cliché—a recluse, a bad hoarder with a ton of cats. Every now and then we’d have to check to see if she was still alive. I was always afraid we’d find her half-eaten one day.
Margot smiled at me. “We’ll be okay, you and me.”
“We will.” I nodded, trying to match the hope in her eyes with my own. I failed.
But at least I tried.
Chapter Thirteen
I slept in my own bed at Revelations the next morning and woke up without an alarm clock, feeling like a new woman. It was another beautiful, peaceful sleep. I stretched out, feeling my tendons and joints pop pleasantly, and pushed the blackout curtains back to check out the daylight situation outside.
It was still early afternoon, the sun still high in the sky, a brilliant cerulean blue today. The rocky outcrop in the distance looked like rubies sparkling in the sunshine, covered in brilliant-green gems where the thick vegetation grew in clumps. It was such a nice view to wake up to.
It was a miracle that I’d managed to sleep so well, considering the events before the weekend. It was weird; it had been three sleeps since that man attacked me. The first was full of nightmares; the next two were ridiculously blissful. I must be getting tougher. If I carried on at this rate, I’d end up with the hide of a rhino.
I shook off the last of my slumber, pushed back my duvet, and crawled out of bed.
When I stayed at Revelations, I was lucky enough to sleep in one of the biggest staff rooms in the building. It was a decent-sized, two-story brick building with tiny single rooms dotted down the corridors, just big enough for a single bed and a tiny wardrobe. I chose to sacrifice privacy for a little bit more room, opting to stay in the three-person dorm rooms on the corners. I shared the second-story corner room with Clover and Andrea, who always worked the dayshift. It was a little like a sorority house; we had our little beds and dressing tables and a little couch and TV in the corner, with our own tiny bathroom. My bed was in the corner nearest the window, and Andrea took the other corner. Clover had the middle bed because, as she freely admitted, she wasn’t in her own bed very often.
After a quick shower, I headed down to the staff kitchen, grabbed a bowl of muesli, and headed outside to eat it by the pool. It was still early; I had about four hours before I was on duty, so I had time to commit to something fun. Clover and Dale were nowhere to be found, probably chasing each other around the highest level of the caves. Neither of them shared my weird, crushing anxiety about being underground. I wished that one day I could get it under control enough to visit the crystal cavern on the east side of the caves, it was supposed to be life-changing. Or so Clover told me. Dale didn’t tend to go very deep into the caves either. His family was Aboriginal, and traditionally stayed away from the caves. That history seemed to seep into him, into his blood, and it made him slightly nervous when he went in too deep. But he had nowhere near the aversion to the caves that I did.
I munched on my breakfast idly while I thought of something else to do. I could read; I hadn’t finished the book I brought back from home yet. But I didn’t feel like being lazy. Scraping up the last of my oats, I decided to head out to the stables.
The stables were small, but beautiful and immaculately kept, right on the edge of the resort, only a stone’s throw from the Develians. There was a tiny path that led from the staff quarters directly to the stables, avoiding any of the guest thoroughfares, so I was unlikely to be bothered by anyone on the way.
Revelations kept ten horses, gorgeous creatures, all big, well-fed, and well muscled from their many treks around the grasslands to the north of the resort. They were for the guests, of course, if any of them wanted to ride, and a lot of them did. Rich people were keen on horses. Some of them liked horses far more than they liked people.
On the odd occasion where the horses hadn’t been ridden enough, the staff were allowed to take them out galloping up the grasslands all the way to the ridge. Even when they had enough exercise, they were always available for pats and grooming—the stablehands loved it when we dropped by to muck out.
The sun was gentle today—warmth without the burn, and I thought I better get a little Vitamin D. I didn’t miss the daylight working on night shift, but I did miss the sun. I nipped upstairs and swapped my little sleepsuit for cut-off jean shorts and a tank top, and made my way down the path toward the stables.
I never thought I’d be interested in horses; I thought they looked terrifying. And I’d never been on one until I got to Revelations. My roommate Andrea, a big, strong girl with arms like tree trunks, had taken me out one afternoon when the horses had had a slow day. Ignoring my protests and my trembling lips, she put me up on a gentle bay gelding named Horace, and galloped away on her own horse so Horace would follow.
And he did. I was so scared, more so than I’d ever been in my life, even when I’d had a knife to my throat. I clung to Horace like a rag doll, squeezing the saddle with my thighs so hard they burned, overwhelmed by his stride and the effortless pack of muscle jolting beneath me. But after a while, the motion became rhythmic; I maneuvered my body to meet the impact and surrendered myself to the motion of riding. And I started to enjoy it.
It felt like I was flying.
I met Andrea on top of the ridge, and finally Horace slowed down to a walk. My heart was nearly thumping out of my chest with exhilaration.
Ever since then, I’d loved riding. Every chance I got, I snuck off down to the stables to say hi to my favourites—Horace, of course, who had treated me so well on my first ride, and every ride since. I also struck up a horse friendship with Bebe, a little grey who often followed me around the stable when I visited.
I ducked around the gate and went into the stables, nodding and waving at two of the staff raking outside.
“Eve!” Andrea spotted me from one of the stalls as I du
cked my head in to see who was here. “I heard you were coming back this morning,” she said brusquely. Andrea had a no-nonsense way about her, and didn’t give out smiles easily. She was rubbing down a pony’s legs, drying him off, her muscled legs shown off in little shorts. She looked strong. She was strong. She straightened up, pushed her akubra hat off her head and threw the towel over one shoulder. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. It was good to go home for a couple of days.”
“You’re not nervous about going back on the front desk? With what happened?”
Trust Andrea to ask the hard questions. I thought I was tough: Andrea had grown up with only her dad after her mother had walked out when she was a baby. They had a family business: they bred and stabled polo ponies and eventing horses. Problem was, there was no other family to do the work. Andrea fed, rode, mucked out, groomed, schooled, cooked, and cleaned every day since she could walk, while her father drank himself into an early grave.
As a horse mistress, she was an encyclopedia of knowledge and had the work ethic of an ant. As a friend, we had a lot in common.
I gave her a smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.”
She nodded, with no trace of empathy in her eyes. “Yes, you have. Well, you have to get on with it, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Is Horace around?”
“Naw,” she drawled. “He’s doing the Overlander trip tomorrow; there’s four guys trying out the horses for the trip right now. He’ll be back shortly, but he will need to rest for tomorrow.” The Overlander was an outback adventure experience, only available for the seasoned and truly adventurous rich people. The guests would take a horse and guide from Revelations, and ride north toward Port Douglas, following what was quite a treacherous track. It took two weeks to get there. Of course, there were waivers, and the guests paid enormously. Some of them loved the challenge. All the adventure-sport loving CEOs had done it.
I leaned against the half-door. “Poor Horace.” He was quite a homebody, for a horse. He didn’t like going out on the Overlanders. You could tell by the way he stayed in his stall, pretending to sleep, for two days after getting back from the trip.
“Well, it’s his own fault, he’s too genial for his own good. He gives everyone an easy ride.”
“That’s why I like him,” I muttered. “So there are four going tomorrow?”
“Yep. Bebe is still here; she’s far too small for any of those hefty buggers to take. Go and give her a cuddle. I have to go and get Peanut and Zorro from the exercise paddock. Mind the fort for me.”
“I will.” Andrea strode out of the stall and out of the stables. I walked down toward Bebe’s stall at the far end of the little building, right by the back door. The back door was open, letting in the fresh air. Bebe heard me coming, stuck her grey head out over her half-door, and gave a soft whicker.
“Hey, baby,” I cooed. I ran my hands over her warm shoulder and gave her a soft pat. “I’ve missed you.”
She rubbed her cheek on my arm and leaned over, nuzzling me gently at first, then a little harder as she tried to check my pockets for treats.
I laughed. “I saved some granola bites for you, you greedy guts.” I pulled a few nuggets of sugary oats out of my pocket and palmed them, holding them out for her to nibble on. She gave a deep satisfied rumble as I stroked her velvety ears.
“Pretty horse.” The deep voice came from right beside me, and I jumped in fright. Bebe was even more alarmed, and she reared back into her stall, cementing herself against the back wall.
I turned to see Alex Sorensen in the stable doorway, lounging easily against the doorframe. “What are you doing here?” I demanded, trying to ignore the thump in my chest.
“I came to find you, actually.”
“Me? Why?”
He grinned wickedly. “I wanted to see how you were.” God, he was gorgeous, his teeth perfect white, his smile wide and genuine. His hair was back in a topknot; I found myself wondering what it would feel like to stroke the stubble on his jawline.
“I’m still alive, if that’s what you’re wondering.” I tore my eyes off him reluctantly, and held out my hand to Bebe, who had stuffed herself into the corner of her stall. “C’mon, Bebe.” I held out the last granola bite, but she quite literally shook her head at me and eyed Alex suspiciously.
“I’m glad you’re still alive.” Alex pushed himself off the doorframe and came closer in a movement that made my stomach do a flip. “I thought I should let you know that the police haven’t found anything on the guy who attacked you. He’s got no prints, no ID, nothing.”
“It’s unfortunate that they don’t have prints on him. You’d think a psycho like that would have been arrested at least once in his life.”
“No, I mean that he didn’t have any prints on his fingers. Deliberately burned off, by the looks of it.”
I shuddered. “Gross. Why would anyone do that?”
“So they wouldn’t be identified at a crime scene, of course.”
“Of course. Seems like a completely natural thing to do,” I said sarcastically.
Then I remembered that I was at work and Alex was a guest. “Sorry.” I wiped the snarky look off my face. “I guess I don’t really care why he tried to kill me. No one else has ever needed a reason.”
“That’s where we differ, Eve,” Alex replied softly. “I am very interested in why he tried to kill you.”
“That’s only because you’re worried that he was after you.”
“Not… not really.” He moved closer, putting himself right within touching distance. My left leg started trembling. I tensed it so it would stay still.
“Tell me,” he said softly. “Have you had anymore funny dreams lately?”
I swallowed. “About you? No.”
“But you’ve had some funny dreams?”
I didn’t like this focus. I wasn’t good at being the center of attention at the best of times, and having his stare on me was making my heart beat erratically. I tore my eyes away from him and looked at Bebe. She was still eyeing Alex suspiciously. That was also strange; the horses at Revelations were chosen specifically for their trusting natures; they had to get on with all the guests. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Bebe was giving Alex the stink-eye.
A few moments passed. “Eve?” Alex prompted. He wasn’t about to let this matter drop.
“I had a nightmare two nights ago,” I admitted. “But nothing since. I’ve had great, dreamless sleeps.” I turned back to him and squinted at him. “Why do you care, anyway?
“Because I do. Tell me, what was your nightmare about?”
“Some guy trying to kill me,” I snapped, turning my whole body to face him. His expression didn’t change; he still looked politely concerned. He was pushing my buttons. I knew I shouldn’t snap at a guest. But I was off duty, and he had sought me out.
But, as usual, the fight seeped out of me as soon as it kicked in. “Sorry,” I mumbled, and I dropped my eyes to the ground. I noticed Bebe’s straw needed changing. If I hung around any longer, Andrea would hand me a pitchfork. “But I don’t see how my dreams are relevant,” I continued. “Of course I was going to have a nightmare after what happened the other night.”
“I was interested because of the first dream you had. The one where you saw me,” Alex said steadily, his eyes fixed on me. “Having dinner with a demon.”
“I don’t know if it was you. Sorry to burst your bubble.”
“It was enough like me for you to greet me with the title of angel.”
“Brain-fart,” I muttered.
Alex laughed out loud. “I don’t think it was.”
“So, you are an angel?”
His smile faded. “Most definitely not.”
“So what’s the big deal then?”
“I find your dreams interesting,” he murmured, moving closer. I’d backed up against the stall half-door, and he had come closer again.
“Why? There is literally not a thing about me that’s ver
y interesting, apart from my predisposition for attracting violence.”
He nodded his head from side to side. “That, in itself, is interesting.” He furrowed his brow. “But other than that, you’re pretty… intriguing, to say the least.”
“I’m not,” I said firmly, my stomach churning. “I don’t know what you think I am, but it’s not what you obviously want it to be.” Without meaning to, I crossed my arms over my chest, perhaps in hope that it would calm my heartbeat.
He took a deliberate step back. “I don’t want you to be anything.”
I flushed, feeling foolish. I was in defense mode, the tone and body language I used when I wanted to let someone know I did not want to be bothered. But Alex wasn’t lying. There was no way he’d even remotely be interested in me. “Of course,” I said, stepping back from him farther. Bebe gave a whicker, and I glanced at her. I swore I could see her narrow her eyes.
The gate outside the stables clicked open, and Alex looked away from me to the door outside. “I have a friend who has just arrived. He wasn’t going to be joining me here, but I asked him to come and stay.” He nodded to whoever was outside.
I pursed my lips at his arrogance. “You do know that Revelations is booked out three months in advance?”
Alex glanced back at me, smiling crookedly. “A reservation canceled, and my friend was in the right place at the right time.”
“Is that so?” I replied, cocking my head to stare at him.
But suddenly, the light streaming from the open door dimmed as a large figure filled the doorway.
“I want you to meet him,” Alex said smoothly. “Eve, this is my friend, Nate.”
The man’s silhouette moved farther into the stables, and his face came into focus.
My jaw dropped open.
The man had almost-black short hair, perfectly groomed and styled. Smooth, dark skin, full perfect lips, and deep, dark warm eyes. He was smiling at me gently.
Alex was watching me carefully. “Eve,” he said again. “This is the angel.”
I tore my eyes away from the man, back to Alex. His icy-blue eyes were glowing slightly.
Revelations: The Black Chalice (Revelations Series Book 1) Page 10