by HR Moore
But she'd never been one for burying her head in the sand. She pulled out a Mulberry travel bag and started stuffing clothes inside. She didn't take much, just everyday clothes, pajamas, comfortable shoes, a favorite pair of earrings.
She already had most of her toiletries from the hotel, but she packed a few extra things from the bathroom, inhaling the familiar smell of Dean's aftershave. That smell had been part of her life for so long … the thought was like a knife in her gut.
She left the house, tears pooling in her eyes, grieving the life she'd lost. Whatever happened now—even if it did all turn out to be a cult—her life could never go back to the way it had been.
She walked down the steps outside, deep in thought, when Callie came rushing out of the house next door.
'Mari! Mari!' Callie called gleefully. 'Are you okay? Nana said you were sick.'
Amari crouched and pulled Callie in for a hug, her tears threatening to overflow. She hadn't considered that she might never see Callie again. 'I'm fine, munchkin. Did you like the wedding?'
'Yes! I'm going to wear my dress every day. Well, not today, because Nana's washing it, but every day I can. And I danced with Dean, and Leila, and loads of people. And I ate two pieces of cake! I tried to get another one, but Nana wouldn't let me. And you looked like a princess!'
'Thanks, sweetie. You looked like a princess too.'
'Nana said you couldn't go on your special holiday. Is that true?'
'Dean had to fly to America to help someone, but he'll be back soon.'
'And then you'll go on holiday?'
Amari pulled her in for another hug, then pushed her to arm's length. 'Did you grow?'
Callie giggled gleefully. 'I'm nearly as big as you!'
'Maybe it was all that cake.'
Caspar walked up behind Amari, surprising her when he crouched down next to them.
'Hey!' he said. 'What's your name?'
'Callie,' she said proudly. 'I was one of Mari's bridesmaids.'
'You were?' he asked.
Callie nodded enthusiastically.
'I bet you were the best bridesmaid of them all.'
Callie giggled again. 'Who are you?' she asked.
'I'm Caspar, Amari's friend.'
'Were you at the wedding?'
'I couldn't be there, but Amari and I are doing some work together. In fact, we need to get going … but, will you do something for me?'
Callie laughed. 'What?'
'Will you put this in some water?' He held out a daisy he'd picked from the verge.
Callie made a grab for his hand and pulled it free. 'I'm going to put it in my flower press so I can keep it forever.'
Caspar laughed. 'That sounds like a great idea. It was lovely to meet you, Callie.'
Callie hummed with delight, giving him a hug before Amari pulled her in again.
'I can't wait to see that once you've pressed it,' said Amari.
'I'll come over and show it to you,' she said.
The tears threatened again. 'Sounds wonderful.'
They got up to leave. Amari chatted briefly with Callie's grandmother, who was standing at the door, patiently waiting for Callie to return.
Callie ran up the steps, through the door, then appeared seconds later at the window, waving wildly.
Caspar and Amari waved back.
'She's got spirit,' said Caspar, as they walked towards where Meredith waited a little further up the street. Gemma followed behind.
'She's one of a kind,' said Amari. 'I'm going to miss her.'
Amari held it together until they got back to Cloister Cottage, but only made it as far as the kitchen, where the smell of rosemary made her strangely nostalgic. She burst into tears.
Caspar was there in an instant, indicating to the others that they should leave.
'I know this is confusing,' he said, rubbing her arms, 'but it'll be easier when you wake.'
'Because I'll forget everyone I care about?'
'No, of course not. I don't think you'll ever forget Callie, or the bond you have, but when you wake up … I don't know … I just think all the other memories will make it easier.'
At that, the tears started coming thick and fast. Caspar pulled Amari to his chest, wrapping his arms around her. She pressed into him, sobbing into his t-shirt.
They stayed there a while, Caspar stroking her back, making soothing circles, holding her tight.
'I'm sorry,' said Amari, pulling back, wiping the tears on her sleeve.
'Don't apologize; crying's healthy. Shall I make tea?'
Amari nodded.
'And I'm sure Elliot's got something delicious in one of these tins,' he said, rummaging around. 'Bingo!' He pulled out a pink floral biscuit tin and set it on the table. 'Chocolate shortbread.' He picked up a piece and took a large bite as he walked back to the Aga.
'Honestly, any time you need to cry, you should embrace it. Everyone here's lived enough lives to know crying's medicine.'
Amari smiled. 'Thanks,' she said, sitting in front of the tin and taking a piece of shortbread.
Her phone buzzed. A deep sense of foreboding filled her when she saw the name. 'It's Dean; I'll go outside.'
'Stay,' said Caspar, setting a steaming mug of tea in front of her. 'I'll give you some privacy.'
He left through the door that led to the stairs.
Amari took a deep breath and picked up the call.
'Hey, Dean.'
'Hey, baby,' said Dean.
Amari winced.
'What's been going on?'
'What do you mean?' Amari said, suddenly jumpy. Did he know something?
'Just wondering what you've been up to. You sound kinda off … is everything okay?'
'Yeah, fine, just tired after the wedding,' she said, fiddling with the shortbread crumbs on the table.
'I wish I could be there with you. Actually, no, I wish we were lying by a pool right now, sipping cocktails.'
'Me too,' said Amari, and she meant it. A luxury hotel, the sound of lapping water, sun on her skin, an elaborate cocktail … that all sounded pretty great right about now. 'Do you know when you're coming back?'
'It's impossible to say, but it's going to be at least another week. I would tell you to get on a plane and come see me, but we're working stupid hours …'
'I know,' she said. She got up and walked to the window. 'I'm working here too, keeping busy.'
'You sure you're okay? You haven't been messaging much, and you sound … flat.'
'It's been a busy couple of days,' she said absently.
She watched a bird scratching in a flower bed in the courtyard; if only her life were so simple.
'Babe, I've got to go to a meeting. Speak later?'
'Sure.'
'I love you.'
'I love you too.'
Amari felt sick. How was it possible that so soon after meaning them, those words were a lie?
Chapter 9
Amari entered the hall, feeling more than a little ridiculous. Talli had sent her a simple, white, floor-length dress to wear, along with a crown made of eucalyptus, laurel, and dainty white flowers.
The dress tied at the waist with a gold cord and was unnervingly similar to the dresses she'd had her bridesmaids wear at her wedding. She went barefoot, as instructed, and had sprayed herself liberally with a perfume Talli had left for her. It smelled like orange and geranium, and Amari couldn't get enough of it.
The moment she set foot inside the hall, her trepidation fell away. It had been transformed into a medieval banqueting hall, a long table stretched down the middle, flowers hanging above, suspended from the ceiling. Candles were dotted among the flowers and along the table's length.
The table was set with the most beautiful, rustic, handmade pottery, copper-colored cutlery, and old, heavy glassware. A pink rose and sprig of rosemary perched on top of each linen napkin.
The table was laden with endless platters of food: fruit, cheese, pies, bread, cured meats, chutneys. Decanters of ruby red
wine sat among the food, alongside yet more flowers.
The rest of the hall had been decorated in an equally breathtaking manner, the smell of summer wafting amid the flowers and lit candles.
A large copper bowl sat at each of the four compass points, flames roaring in the northernmost bowl. Musicians warmed up their lutes and panpipes at the opposite end, a patch of floor in front of them left clear for dancing.
Caspar handed Amari a heavy glass of red wine. 'Talli and Christa never fail to amaze,' he said.
'It's breathtaking. Were they wedding planners in a former life?'
Caspar laughed. 'In a manner of speaking, they were. But they rarely wait for someone to employ them; usually they just take over. Or, Talli does, and Christa goes where Talli leads, swept along like the rest of us.'
'How many lifetimes have they been together?' asked Amari.
'Only three or four, actually; their love is still young.'
Amari laughed. 'If you say so.'
'Compared to ours, it's minutes old.'
Amari didn't know what to say to that … 'What have they got planned for the evening?'
'Who knows,' said Caspar. 'They like to keep us guessing. But some combination of eating, rituals, and dancing is how these things go.'
'Rituals?'
'Pagan rituals.'
'Oh yeah, right.' The thought made her uncomfortable; she'd always thought Paganism was a joke. 'Who are they?' she asked, pointing to a cluster of five or six new people. Aside from the musicians, she knew everyone else in the hall.
'Bodyguards,' said Caspar. 'Meredith's best team.'
'Sit, everyone, sit!' said Talli, dressed exactly like Amari, like all the women were. 'First we feast.'
Amari waited expectantly to hear what came second, but Talli didn't continue.
They took seats at random, Talli not seeming to care who sat where. She flitted around, into and out of the kitchen, adjusting flowers, relighting a candle that had fluttered out, checking in with the musicians—who began to play—before finally landing at the head of the table.
Talli picked up a sprig of rosemary and an ornate knife, and a sudden silence cut through the din. Even the musicians killed their instruments, perfectly on cue.
A shudder ran down Amari's spine, a tingle of anticipation kindling in her stomach. She looked to Caspar, who she found was watching her, handsome in the candlelight.
Her insides contracted as she took in his predatory features. She held his gaze, momentarily lost in the depth of his eyes, made mysterious by the flickering light. He was perfectly still, yet poised, drinking her in, ready to pounce.
Talli moved and Amari turned back to watch. She was holding the knife over her head, walking slowly towards the flaming bowl.
The silence was absolute as Talli used the knife to cut a circle in the air in front of the fire. She did it quickly, using her whole body, as though it were part of a dance. It looked as though there was resistance, something pushing back against the knife, and something sparked in Amari's memory. She shook it away.
Talli finished the cutting, then dropped to one knee, saying words that Amari didn't understand. Talli stood, thrusting her arm through the circle, dropping the sprig of rosemary into the flames, chanting the whole time. She pulled her hand back, then fanned her arms out to either side, tipping her head back as her chants crescendoed.
The air in the room went tight, energy potent, the hairs on Amari's arms rising. Everyone leaned in as Talli started swaying, faster and faster to match her words.
Christa rose from her seat, carrying a copper bell suspended on a short piece of rope. She moved towards Talli, her white dress hiding her feet, giving her an ethereal air in the flickering candlelight.
Christa stood behind Talli, lifted the bell, and struck it once. Talli dropped to the floor, no longer chanting. Christa let the bell ring, the deep, crisp dong resonating around the hall.
Amari was held in a trancelike state, unable to tear her eyes away. It felt so natural, and yet so strange. Only days before, she would've laughed at the thought of attending a ceremony such as this …
The ringing finally ceased and Talli rose to her feet. She swiveled to face Christa, and they kissed. Amari felt uncomfortable, like an intruder on an intimate moment, but no one else batted an eye. In fact, much to her surprise, Elliot kissed Gemma, Jon kissed Meredith, who, weirdly, didn't protest, and everyone else was at it too. Even Rose was kissing one of the bodyguards.
Caspar was suddenly close, leaning towards her. 'It's just part of the ceremony,' he whispered, the spicy scent of his cologne intoxicating. 'Meredith would punch Jon in the face if he tried to kiss her under normal circumstances.'
His eyes flicked to her lips and she tingled with anticipation. Her whole body tensed. He leaned forwards, then paused.
Her breathing hitched, heart racing. Her eyelids fluttered closed, wine fogging her thoughts, chasing her inhibitions away.
He pressed his lips to her cheek, a small huff escaping her at the shock of the contact, and then he pulled away, tracing a finger down her arm, gently squeezing her hand before breaking all contact.
Amari fought the urge to pull him back, lace her fingers with his, rest her head against him.
Every part of her deflated. Her lips prickled, angry at being denied the contact they sought. Her head swam, the music and wine and candlelight almost hypnotic. But a thought of acute clarity forced its way in, the searing light of it stark against the candlelit gloom, carving an image across her mind. The image of a man, wearing a suit, waiting for her to walk down the aisle towards him: her husband, Dean. What was wrong with her?
Talli and Christa returned to the table and the kissing ceased. Jon and Meredith were the last to relinquish each other. To Amari's surprise, Meredith didn't look at all put out.
As soon as Talli and Christa sat, they all dug into the feast with gusto, grabbing handfuls from the platters, knocking back wine, chatter and laughter filling the air.
Amari picked at the food, feeling nervous, like an outsider among them. They were so comfortable with each other, never running out of things to say, understanding one other in a way Amari couldn't begin to.
'Everything okay?' asked Caspar, leaning in again, his voice low.
'Yes,' said Amari, avoiding his eyes. 'It's just … I'm a few lifetimes short of fitting in.'
Caspar stifled a laugh. 'Sorry,' he said, resting a hand on her forearm at her hurt expression.
Amari's focus narrowed to the spot where their skin met. He absently rubbed his thumb back and forth. She took a deep breath, ignoring the sensation pooling inside.
'I'm sorry you feel that way. It's only funny because normally the boot's on the other foot.'
'Well, I'm not that person now,' she said, pulling her arm away.
'You are,' he said, grabbing her hand, holding it in both of his. 'You'll wake up soon. Your eyes are gaining flecks all the time; you'll be back to ruling this place any day now.'
That doesn't help me now. But she gave a small nod and turned back to the table, putting an end to the topic.
When Talli deemed the feast to have gone on for long enough, she stood, motioning to the musicians to up the tempo. They sprang to life, the music shifting from mellow sounds that faded into the background, to loud, vivid strokes of the violin and fast drumbeats.
Talli took to the open area in front of the musicians and danced; leaping, circling, clapping, swaying, her dress flowing around her legs, hair bouncing wildly with her movements. The others watched, clapping, laughing, and cheering her on.
Jon was next to take to the floor. He swung Talli around, lifting her, spinning her, then they circled apart, each dancing their own dance. It didn't take long for the rest of the table to join in.
Caspar offered Amari his hand. She didn't even hesitate, her hand going to his without conscious thought. Maybe that was Raina, thought Amari, as Caspar pulled her in, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders, swaying them in time to th
e music.
Amari hesitated, conflicted about the proximity. Her body was so firmly pressed up against his, feeling every hard muscle and line of him through their clothes.
'It's only dancing,' he said in her ear, running a hand down her tense back.
It was too much … his smell, his body, the deep seductive tone of his voice rumbling through her. Desire flooded her, but guilt chased it, the sensation making her nauseous. She was about to pull away, to say she needed a drink, when the music changed. It wasn't so different from the song before, with the same upbeat, Celtic feel, but Amari's mind and body reacted instantly, as one.
An electric thrill of excitement ran up her spine. Her eyes seemed to open wider. Her mind seemed to process more. And out of nowhere, her hands tightened around Caspar. She pressed herself against him, let his hands guide her, swayed her hips like a temptress.
Amari was there, but also not. It was like being in a flashback, but in real time, her conscious brain yielding entirely to the dominance of what lay beneath.
Caspar felt the change and didn't hesitate, whirling them around, moving them as one, ignoring everyone else. The others were too caught up in their own dancing to pay Caspar and Amari any attention anyway.
The hall came alive with reeling, pulsing energy, the music, and alcohol, and maybe even a little magic, making them high. The energy bounced from person to person, everyone contributing to the rising tide.
Amari felt it all vibrate through her, her blood beginning to sing, reveling in the feel of Caspar's solid body against hers. She shifted, sliding her leg in between his, delighting in the hardness she felt there as he rocked them from side to side.
Caspar growled into her neck, one hand sliding lower, covering her backside, pulling her writhing hips against him. She gasped in his ear, burying her face in his neck, moving with the beat.
The music slowed and she pulled back, placed a hand on Caspar's face, and looked seductively up into his smoky brown eyes. She would have pulled his lips to hers, would have kissed him, was inching towards him, not caring who was watching, or that she was married, or that she'd only just met him. But the song came to an abrupt end.