by Tina Gerow
“Dante. He was one of our assignments back around 1300. He was being persecuted by the pope for his writings and we protected him for a few months.” She flipped the book closed and studied the cover. “Quite the chauvinist, but I’ve had a soft spot for his works ever since.”
A twinge of envy stabbed him when her eyes lit with pleasure as she spoke about this long dead man. “Did you and he…”
Dara blushed furiously and shook her head. “No, of course not. I never got involved with any of our assignments.”
James thought there was more behind the simple statement than she’d said, but he left it alone to explore another time. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to pry. I’m distracted, but that’s no reason for my manners to slip.”
She waved the comment away with a gesture. “No need to apologize.” She looked up under impossibly long lashes and met his gaze, her green eyes boring through him. “Have you decided if you trust me enough to talk about whatever is on your mind?”
James sighed. “I always feel like you can see right through me, Dara. Why is that?”
She laughed again, the sound trickled over his skin like soap bubbles popping. Probably because I can. You’re so incredibly easy to read—you wear your heart in your gaze.”
Shock flowed through James. No one had ever told him that before. The general consensus he’d heard from people was that he was unreadable, inscrutable. It had always made him feel apart from everyone, even beyond what his choices and his existence forced him to be.
Dara’s dimple still twinkled in her cheek, and he realized she still grinned at him. “Don’t worry, James. Your secret is safe. I’ve always had a knack for reading people that others don’t have. I think it’s one of my gargoyle gifts. So, what may be easy for me to read, isn’t necessarily visible to others.”
James wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. Dara being able to read him so easily should have left him feeling uncomfortable and exposed, but it didn’t. He was almost relieved another being could understand him.
He took a deep breath, let it out slowly and decided to trust his instincts. “Dara, is there a prophecy going on that I don’t know about?” At her shocked expression, he held up his hand to forestall any objections and continued. “I was just speaking to Logan and he used words like destiny and child of his blood when referring to Charity’s baby. Those sound distinctly like prophecy to me.”
Dara studied him in silence until finally she spoke. “You know as well as I do, prophecies are better left alone or we can unwittingly change their course.”
He nodded. “I would normally and emphatically agree, but I may have some important information about this one which could alter its course.”
Dara tilted her head to the side as if mulling over a difficult decision. “If you have such information, then I would share it with Logan and Ariel. As far as I know, they are the only two who know the details.”
James sat shocked into silence. He had a suspicion that there was indeed a prophecy, but for Dara to tell him so easily shocked him. “Why…”
Dara interrupted him. “Why did I admit to you there is a prophecy in play?”
James could only nod.
“As I said, I’m good at reading people. I can see into their hearts.” She shifted one foot out from under her and placed it on the floor, settling into a comfortable position with one leg tucked under her. “I used to berate myself for letting you get so close to Ariel and not realizing what you were. But after meeting you again, I know why I didn’t.”
Air backed up in his lungs. Did he want to hear this? “Why?” he whispered.
“Because I can see into your heart and soul just as I did then, and you’re a good man. Whatever your station and purpose in life, you use it for good. I can’t fault you for that—especially since you’re doing it in a difficult position. It can’t be easy to do good as a vampire, of all things.”
He wanted to remind her he had no soul, but he was too shocked that she understood him so well. He wasn’t used to having people get him.
“And before you disagree with my use of the word soul, let me explain. I believe someone’s soul is their inner most being, the inner conscience, if you will. So, when you were turned, you may have given a “lien” against your soul to the dark one, but you’ve been negating that balance by being a good man ever since. I think it’s only a matter of time before that lien is paid off.”
“I’m not sure everyone would agree with your definition of soul, but I like it very much.” He also realized he was beginning to like her very much. James had never seen the true Dara before, but now that he had, she intrigued him. “You’re very insightful, Dara.”
“Does that mean you’ll talk to Logan and Ariel?”
James sighed, wishing it were that easy. “No, I can’t. What I know would open up knowledge that could hurt Logan. The risk isn’t worth letting him know right now.”
To his surprise Dara didn’t protest, she just nodded and looked thoughtful. “In that case, maybe you’d better choose someone you trust to talk to, so that two of you are aware of the situation. I don’t think either Gabriel or Alonna will be very forthcoming. If there was something to tell, they would have already done so, or will do so at the time of their choosing.”
He knew she was right and that even if he did talk to Alonna, she would only tell him what she was ready to. Again, James decided to go with his instincts and trust Dara with the ability to destroy him. “I trust you,” he said softly. But even then, he knew he could only trust her with part of the truth. Not only for himself, but for Logan.
A crease formed between Dara’s lovely brows, her full lips curved down into a concerned frown. “But I don’t know what the prophecy is. How can I possibly help?”
James heard her unspoken question loud and clear. Why would you trust me? He’d come this far, he might as well trust his intuition the rest of the way. James reached out and took Dara’s hand in his. Her expression betrayed her shock at his actions, but she didn’t pull her hand away. He began to trace small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. She was so incredibly soft. “I’ve never had anyone understand me, Dara. I think I like it.”
“I…I have the advantage of being able to see the big picture in respect to you and Ariel. Please don’t condemn her just because she didn’t understand at the time. Hindsight…”
“Don’t get me wrong, Dara. I don’t condemn Ariel for anything. This isn’t about Ariel, it’s about you. You understand me like no one ever has and every instinct I have says to trust you with my very existence.” He traced a few more lazy circles on the back of her hand and wallowed in the sensation of being able to touch her warm skin. “I need this to stay between us until you think this knowledge will help Logan. This is all about keeping Logan safe.”
Dara nodded, but she kept glancing between their clasped hands and James’ eyes. Yet she made no move to extricate her hand.
“After Ariel, there has been only one woman who captured my heart.” He looked up to see her brow furrow. “Her name was Jaclyn. And between us, we made something very special.” James continued to gaze into Dara’s eyes, willing her to understand what he couldn’t bring himself to say.
Dara gasped and pulled her hand from his grip. Her eyes widened, her mouth forming an adorable little ‘o’ that just begged to be kissed. Here he was about to find out if he’d just consigned himself to doom, and all he could think about was kissing Dara.
“Why didn’t I see it before? Logan, he’s…your son.” She shook her head and seemed to be struggling with this new realization.
Again, the adorable crease between Dara’s brows was back. Logan’s fingers itched to trace it, to smooth it away, but he held himself in check. He didn’t want to ruin what he already had by being slapped by an extremely strong and ancient gargoyle. Although he didn’t think Dara would go for his bollocks, his other body parts would hurt just as much when being ripped off.
He watched in fascination as
she rebuilt her composure layer by layer until she was the cool, calm woman he first sat down with. “Well, that actually makes sense.”
James couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction. “What do you mean by that?”
“I told you I can see into people’s hearts. Well, both yours and Logan’s feel similar. I wrote it off to you working together for so long, but I should learn not to doubt my own impressions.” She reached out, squeezed his hand, and surprised him by continuing to hold it. “Don’t worry, James. I won’t abuse your trust, and I’ll only use this information to protect Logan. I can see how if this came to light it would put him in even more danger. I hope I can trust you with the same depth?”
“Absolutely.” He took a breath to say something further, but before he could think to form the words, Dara had closed the distance between them and lightly brushed her lips over his. Every nerve ending he had exploded and all coherent thought scattered to the winds. By the time he could even muster energy for awareness beyond Dara, she’d pulled back and stood.
“Good night, James.”
He looked up at her in wonder. Her wonderful dimple twinkled at him before she turned to go and he could only nod at her retreating back.
*****
Logan straightened his jacket for the hundredth time and tried not to fidget as the limo pulled to a stop in front of the red carpet. He hadn’t seen Ariel since a few nights ago in his office when they’d both agreed she wasn’t his destiny. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He sighed loudly and glanced over at Dara, who sat next to Charity doing an admirable job of not strangling her.
“Are you nervous?” Dara asked softly, ignoring Charity’s continued primping.
Logan shook his head. “Not about the emcee gig, anyway.”
Charity shot Logan an annoyed look. “Are we going to get out and walk the red carpet or sit here all day chatting with your bodyguard?”
Logan ignored Charity’s outburst, much like he had every other tantrum and mood swing over the last few days. He knew some of this was just Charity’s real personality showing through, but he was hoping to attribute a lot of it to the pregnancy, even if he knew better.
James, who sat next to Logan, broke in smoothly. “So much the better if we don’t seem rushed. It will make your fans even more eager to see you.”
Logan knew James must have been working hard not to bite his tongue off after that one. He shot James a grateful look. “Shall we?”
The driver stepped out of his door, and a few seconds later, opened the back door to the limousine. Charity stepped out first and began waving and smiling. Logan took a deep breath and stepped out behind her. The crowd was large and it seemed like half of country music was in attendance. He could see Toby Keith, Reba and Gretchen Wilson already on their way up the red carpet, and a line of limos behind theirs that stretched around the block and out of sight.
He took Charity’s arm and began to make what he had always called the walk of doom. Logan loved to write and even to perform in a non-pressured environment, but he’d rather face a succubus again than shake hands and do the fake smile thing for the next four hours.
Continuing to smile and waving now and then with his free hand, he tried to move Charity along. “Come on, Charity. My face is going to freeze this way if I have to smile for one more minute.”
Charity turned to Logan and beamed up at him like the most devoted woman in the world. Logan tried to keep a pleasant look on his face as he fought the urge to roll his eyes.
He heard Dara giggle behind them and his first genuine smile of the night curved his lips.
They’d taken no more than five steps when they reached the first camera point. A bleached blonde who had too many face-lifts thrust a mic into his face. “Logan, it’s so good to see you here tonight, and with Charity Taylor.”
Charity dived for the microphone like a bass angling for bait and Logan finally did roll his eyes skyward.
“Logan and I are just so happy to be here tonight. Between the two of us, we have so many fans, we just couldn’t bear to disappoint them.”
Logan noticed Charity’s virginal mask was in full force for the cameras. He just wished she could wear it 24X7, then maybe it wouldn’t feel like marrying her was signing away his soul to the devil.
Charity made a grand gesture pretending to brush the hair out of her face—as if the lacquered creation could even move after the stylist finished with it. And then a loud gasp from the overly happy blonde. “Is that an engagement ring, Charity?”
Logan glanced down and too late, noticed Charity wore a rock the size of the Alamo. He wasn’t sure where she’d gotten it—he sure as hell hadn’t bought it for her. Damn it, Charity. They had agreed to wait to announce anything to the press, partly because he was still coming to grips with it, but also because the gargoyles didn’t want to put Charity in more danger by confirming her relationship with Logan. Charity hadn’t been happy about the decision, but had reluctantly agreed—or so he thought.
Logan grabbed Charity’s left hand and pulled it down away from the camera’s view. “No,” he cut in before Charity could draw breath. “It is not an engagement ring.” He squeezed Charity’s hand hard so she would keep her mouth shut. “In fact, this is the ring Charity is donating to be auctioned off for the Texas Children’s hospital fund after the awards ceremony tonight. We’re hoping that some of the other entertainers will donate items as well, so please pass the word.” With a parting wink, he dragged Charity away from the camera and further down the red carpet.
“What the hell are you doing, Logan?” Charity asked between gritted teeth, but still through her fake smile.
Logan glanced down at her using every ounce of charm he possessed. “If you don’t care about your own safety, or mine, then at least be woman enough to care about the safety of our baby. My bodyguards told us not to announce and that’s that. So get ready to auction that ring.”
She pulled her hand out of his grasp and for the first time let her mask slip. “I’ll do no such thing,” she hissed.
“What?” he feigned surprise. “You’re going to disappoint all those children at the Texas Children’s hospital?” He raised his voice until she shushed him. “What will your adoring fans think?” he whispered and took Charity’s arm again just as the next set of cameras came into view. Under his breath, he added. “Don’t ever try to manipulate me like that again, I’m not a doormat like your other boyfriends.” She stiffened as they approached the cameras.
Ten minutes later, they finally approached the last set of cameras on the walk of doom. Logan bit back a sigh as yet another perky blonde stepped forward, this one with too much lip liner. She looked like she’d kissed a pink and black zebra and the color had stuck. He bit back a laugh and then stopped in his tracks.
Ariel. He sensed her nearby. He turned his head and saw her standing in the doorway of the auditorium where the red carpet would lead them next. Their gazes locked and held, and the contact jolted through his entire body like a bolt of electricity.
She was stunning—even more beautiful than he remembered. Her dress was some sort of shimmery blue affair that melded to every curve, dipped amazingly low in the front giving him a tantalizing view of her cleavage, and made his mouth go suddenly dry. Her hair was pulled back away from her face, but left free in the back to cascade over her shoulders in a soft waterfall.
Suddenly, an elbow in his ribs brought him back to reality. He turned around and reluctantly answered some questions before dragging Charity away from the cameras and toward Ariel.
*****
Ariel took a deep breath as Logan turned his attention away from her and back toward the cameras. When he looked at her like that, she could never get enough air. But she secretly admitted she’d be willing to suffocate for the rest of her life, if only she could have Logan.
“Be strong, Ariel,” came Dara’s voice inside her head. She glanced up to see her sister studying her intently. Thankfully, Logan and Charity were still inte
rviewing with the camera crew, so she had a few minutes to regain her composure. “Just think, maybe she’ll trip and fall on her face during her performance later.”
Ariel couldn’t help but laugh, and at that moment, Logan turned around and locked gazes with her again. Then, before she knew it, he was standing in front of her, while Charity’s evil glare pierced her skin like daggers.
“Logan.” She nodded to him in greeting thankful her voice sounded strong and even. “If you’ll follow me, I’ve already cleared your dressing rooms.”
Logan seemed about to say something, but then he nodded.
Charity huffed an impatient breath. “I think we’re backing up the red carpet line.” Her voice held the same saccharine sweetness that always gave Ariel a toothache.
“No problem, right this way,” Ariel said and then turned to lead them back toward their dressing rooms.
Finally, with Charity comfortably settled inside her dressing room, Dara closed the door, leaned back against it, and let out a long, weary breath.
Ariel laid a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder. “You should get a sainthood for this.”
“I should get a lot more than that for this. Talk about combat duty.”
Ariel couldn’t help but agree. “I’d better go check on Logan. I think I’ve put it off long enough.” With a quick prayer for strength of character, she knocked on Logan’s door and when he called out, she turned the knob and stepped inside.
His dressing room was a ten-foot square room, which held a couch, a chair, a makeup table and a small bathroom complete with a shower. The entire room glared red velvet including the wallpaper, which had small little dots on it. Her fingers itched to feel the texture of the walls.
Logan sat on the chair in front of the makeup table with his guitar in his lap. He looked up and she noticed dark circles under his eyes and wariness in his expression. “Hi, Ariel. I was hoping you’d come by.” He looked down at his guitar again and stroked a hand over the polished wood as if it gave him comfort. “I’ve missed you.”