“About what I said last night,” he begins, reading my mind. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“But you meant it,” a hoarse, rough voice says. I hardly recognize it as my own.
Jared looks at me with apologetic eyes, shame written on his face. Yes, he meant it. He thinks I’m a selfish bitch. And honestly, I’m fresh out of fucks to give.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. You don’t need to feel responsible for me,” I say standing up and walking to my bedroom door. “I really need to be alone right now.”
Jared takes the hint and makes his way to me. “I really am sorry, Gabs. For everything. You were right about…Aurora,” he says cringing. That’s when I really get a good look at him. His eyes are sunken in with dark circles around them. He’s unshaven and his clothes are wrinkled. Jared has been hurting. Maybe as much as I have.
“And I guess you were right about…You were right too,” I stammer, my eyes casting down. I look up to find his gaze on me, overflowing with unshed pain. It mirrors my own.
After I walk Jared to the door, I pop into Morgan’s room just to show her I’m still alive. Then I make a sandwich, realizing I haven’t eaten since the salad over 24 hours ago. Still, I can hardly choke it down, and grab a beer instead. After showering and throwing on some ratty old pajamas, I climb into bed and desperately try to close my eyes without seeing…him.
One day down, eternity to go.
Chapter Eighteen
The next day passes in the same excruciating manner and by Monday I am all too happy for the distraction of working. I try my hardest to make myself presentable although my raging headache from my 3 day binge is making it almost impossible. Carmen keeps looking at me with pity in her eyes and by early afternoon, I’m sick of it. I know she’s heard and she most likely suspects I’ve been lying about being sick. I make up an excuse about paperwork and opt to hide in the office.
“Hey, Gabs?” Carmen says, poking her head inside.
Busted. I lift my head from my desk, my sleepy eyes giving away my cat nap. “What’s up, Carmen?”
“Someone is here to see you.” Her eyes grow large with excitement and she waggles her eyebrows.
My thoughts immediately go to…him, but Carmen shakes her head to dispel my unspoken question. “I’ve never seen him before but, O-M-Geeee! So hot! I think he might be a new designer.”
I sit up straight and nod, trying to hide my twinge of disappointment. Why should I be upset that it’s not him? I told him we were done. He’s engaged; there’s no reason for him to come see me.
“I’ll be right out. Thanks, Car.”
I fluff my hair and give my cheeks a few light smacks to wake up. Then I slather on some lipgloss, hoping I look somewhat professional, seeing as I am now the freakin’ owner of Cashmere. How the hell did that even happen? And what the hell am I supposed to do to keep it afloat? I sigh, shaking my head in frustration then head out to greet our guest.
“Hey Gabs, I mean, Gabriella,” Carmen stammers as I approach. The mystery man’s back is to me and her eyes once again widen with delight to indicate her approval. I muster up a tight grin, meeting my daily smiling quota. Yeah, that shit won’t happen again.
As the man turns to face me, my breath catches in my throat. Perfectly styled dark hair, light blue eyes, and tan skin. And so impossibly gorgeous it makes my eyes hurt. This isn’t a man at all, and every alarm bell in my head is telling me, screaming for me, to run like hell.
“Hello, Ms. Winters. I am Nikolai. So lovely to finally meet you,” he smiles with an outstretched palm.
The very sight of his dazzling smile causes me to tremble with a mixture of unexpected desire and fright. So freakin’ beautiful it’s scary and I instantly know that he is Dark. He has to be. And if there is one thing I have learned about the Dark, especially in the last few days, is that they are ruthless, vile bastards with no regard for humanity. I look around me at the innocent, human shoppers and employees in my store. I have to do something; I have to get him away from them without raising suspicion. It’s not only my life that is at stake.
I look down at his hand, still extended for me to take in mine. Hell no, there’s no way I’m letting him touch me. “Good to meet you too. Sorry, just getting over the flu. Wouldn’t want to get you sick,” I say with a strained smile. He nods and places his hand behind his back in response. “Let’s go back to my office so we can speak comfortably, Nikolai.”
With a nervous wave, I turn to make my way to the back office on shaky legs, Nikolai right on my heels. What am I going to do once we get back there? And what could he possibly want? Surely he wouldn’t do anything stupid to draw attention to himself in a store full of bystanders. Once I usher him into the tiny room and click the door closed behind me, I glare at Nikolai with cautious yet threatening eyes.
“Who the hell are you and what do you want?” I growl.
Nikolai perks into a wide smile, his white, sparkling teeth looking more like razor sharp fangs. “I told you; I’m Nikolai. But please, call me Niko. I came to formally introduce myself,” he explains as if I should know this already.
“Nikolai who? And what is that supposed to mean to me?”
Nikolai laughs and shakes his head. “He didn’t mention I’d be coming by? Typical. Well, this is as good a time as any.”
“Mind telling me what the hell you’re talking about? And what are you doing here?!” I nearly shout with clench fists.
“Dorian sent me. He asked me to keep an eye on you during this…rough patch you two seem to be having. So here I am.” Niko gracefully folds himself into my swivel chair and props his hands behind his head.
Dorian. Just hearing his name causes my heartbeat to stutter. I try to slow its pace with a series of deeps breaths, feeling a wave of tears prickling the back of my eyes.
“Wow. He really has you affected, doesn’t he? Interesting.”
My cold gaze snaps to Niko, casually lounging in my chair. “I don’t need looking after. Especially not by some strange, Dark asshole who looks like a High School Musical reject. So run along now and feel free to tell him that,” I say, turning to open the door.
“Skotos,” I hear a voice say behind me, causing my hand to drop from the doorknob. “My last name is Skotos. Dorian is my brother.”
I whirl around to look at him again, the beautiful Dark One who looks more boy band than evil Warlock with his frosted blown back coif and trendy clothes. I see it- the familiarity in his face. They share the same perfect nose and chiseled jawline. Niko’s lips are a bit fuller and he’s an inch or so shorter, but he’s definitely Dorian’s sibling. “You’re his brother?”
“Yes. He’s all fucked up in the head over you. It’s downright depressing to watch. And since you won’t speak to him, he sent me.” Niko offers a warm grin, and I see flickers of sincerity in his bright blue eyes. “Things could get complicated for you in the coming months. You’re going to want my help.”
“And why do you say that?” I ask with a hand on my curvy hip.
“I’m sure my father informed you that Dark forces would be moving in for your protection. Don’t you think there’s a reason for that? And where there is the Dark-”
“-there is the Light,” I say finishing his thought, understanding washing over me. Of course. There’s got to be a reason why I all of a sudden need more protection. “What’s going on? What’s happened?”
“You know, you’re not what D usually goes for. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re hot as shit. Even with that brooding, emo girl thing you got going on, I’d definitely hit it. And your scent! Holy fuck! I’ve only been around you for 5 minutes and I already wanna bend you over and fuck you ‘til you can’t see straight,” he chortles, ignoring my question and pissing me off in the process.
I blink rapidly, taken aback by his crudeness. “Wow, asshole. I can see you didn’t inherit the Skotos charm. No wonder Dorian didn’t mention you. They don’t let you out much, do they?”
N
iko laughs again. “There she is! I’ve heard stories about you. And what you did to Aurora…I commend you. That bitch has been itching to get her ass whooped for decades!” He rakes his fingers through his styled strands. “And while I love to get the ladies hot and bothered, you should really watch your temper. Especially if you want to live until next week.”
“Why do you say that?” I say crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“He didn’t tell you?” I shake my head and Niko continues. “When you lose it, when your emotions are heightened, you’re easier to detect. I was just fucking with you and look how quickly you were roused.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, his eyes narrowing as they bore into mine. “Except for the bending you over part. That part I would love to do.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head, unable to even formulate a response. What else has been kept from me?
“And you keep some really interesting company,” he remark, leaning back in the chair. “Your friends don’t know what you are? Even Morgan?”
“How do you know Morgan?” I snap.
Niko smiles and I swear I hear angels singing from above. Gag. “Mmmm, that Vodou blood makes my dick hard. Especially that spicy little piece you got out front,” he says with a wink.
Ok, I’ve officially pegged Niko as a world-class jackass. How can he and…him be related? They’re like night and day. “Touch any one of my friends and I’ll kill you myself. That is a promise,” I say sternly. I don’t want to lose my shit with him, especially if it only makes me more susceptible. Again, the asshole smiles and I feel a familiar burn between my legs. No!
“Relax, Gabs. D left strict instructions when it comes to your friends. Not like I could touch them anyway,” he shrugs. “You know, he did that for you. He’s got them all protected. You’ve really got him pussy-whipped, huh?”
I look away, my face flaming with emotion at the mention of Niko’s brother. God, I miss him. I don’t think I will ever stop missing him. The thought of ever moving on and being happy just doesn’t exist in my mind.
“He doesn’t really care about me,” I mutter staring blankly at the door. “And don’t call me Gabs. Only my friends call me that.” I hear Niko chuckle and I turn to scowl at him. What is it about Skotos men that make them want to wreak havoc on my life? Not to mention, my hormones?
“We may not be friends now, but trust me, we will be soon. I mean, come on; look at me. I’m every girl’s wet dream plus I’m pretty fucking awesome. You’ll see,” he grins, winking a blue eye behind incredibly long lashes.
“I highly doubt it, but you just keep telling yourself that, dumbass,” I reply with a wink of my own.
Niko shakes his head in playful disbelief and is on his feet faster than I can see, his hard body pressing me into the edge of the desk. With balled fists, I push against his rigid chest but he doesn’t budge. He flashes a crooked smile before leaning into me, close enough that his cool, intoxicating scent fills my nostrils like noxious fumes.
“Back. Up,” I say between pursed lips, refusing to breathe through my nose.
“Don’t fight it, Gabs. It just makes me want it more.” Then he’s gone, nothing but writhing grey smoke left behind in his place.
“Ugh!” I scream, pounding my fist on the desk. No one can hear me anyway. “Fucking Warlocks!”
***
The excruciating drilling in my head and the desperate need to seek water and painkillers pulls me from my warm bed the next morning. I stumble to my bathroom and gulp down handfuls of tap water along with a few aspirin before slumping against the sink. The morning routine has become somewhat of a constant in the past few days. It’s a mystery that my liver hasn’t checked out yet. Luckily, I am not due to work until the afternoon so I nurse my hangover with some food to alleviate my queasy stomach and more water. Then I open up my laptop, forcing myself to face the inevitable.
Just as I suspected, my inbox is completely full. And only one name stares back at me: D. Skotos. A spasm assaults my chest and I gasp for air, gripping the front of my shirt. I know I have to do this but, but dammit, I can’t. Yet I can’t bring myself to hit Delete. It’s too much like permanently erasing him from my life. I know that I will have to do it eventually, but there’s no way I am strong enough to face that realization today.
Before I know what I am doing, the cursor is hovering over the last message he sent. Then I’m right-clicking. Morbid curiosity is a bitch.
----------
SUBJECT: (none)
Gabriella,
If there was any way I could fix this for you- for us- I would do it without question. Meeting you, falling in love with you, has given me purpose. It’s given me a life that I never thought existed for someone like me. I am forever indebted to you for opening me & filling the emptiness that consumed me for centuries.
I never told you this, but that night in the club was not the first time I laid eyes on you. I watched you for weeks in the shadows. I told myself it was solely to acquaint myself with your schedule and rituals, but honestly, I became so enthralled with you that I couldn’t stay away. I’d watch you while you worked at the mall, trying hard to seem happy and joyous when I could see the annoyance in your eyes. I’d see you with your friends, how protective and caring you were with them. I could even see the love and admiration you had for Jared, though you tried to mask it.
I have to admit, I found myself wishing you would one day look at me the way you did Jared, though you didn’t know I even existed. I’d lie in bed for hours, dreaming of how it would feel to touch your skin. I’d imagine the taste of your lips, the smell of your silken hair. I wanted you long before I ever met you. And in some way, I knew that my desire would grow into something else. Something more.
I need you, little girl. I need to see your smile, hear your laughter. I need to see the way your eyes light up and your lips curl reflexively when you hear your favorite song. I need to see how you turn your head up towards the sky and close your eyes in the sunlight. I need to feel your body next to mine, molded so perfectly. I will never stop needing these things. And every second without them- without you- is torture.
Please talk to me. I just need to know you are ok. I know I’ve hurt you and I would gladly endure that pain for you. And if you give me the chance, I will shoulder that burden. I will take it all away.
I love you,
D
----------
I close my eyes for a few moments, replaying the written words in my head. As painful as losing him is, knowing that he still cares for me, genuine or not, warms my insides. But I know I am just tormenting myself. He isn’t mine, not anymore. He made his choice and he chose Aurora, no matter what his motives were. He gave up on us. I wasn’t enough for him to fight for.
I highlight the emails and place them in a separate folder. One day I will either read them all or simply delete the entire folder. I do the same with the text messages on my phone. I have to get over him and seeing his name pop up on every screen isn’t helping. Then I get ready for work, eager to let the monotony distract me from that email, and the overwhelming urge to run straight to the Broadmoor and never leave.
After an uneventful, Skotos-free day at Cashmere, I am rummaging through my closet in search of my favorite flannel pajamas when music suddenly fills my ears. Morgan must be home from work. However, the sound seems closer than her bedroom as if it is playing only a few feet away from me. I shrug to myself before grabbing my pjs and stepping out of the closet. Then my ragged heart plummets into my stomach, causing me to drop my garments.
He’s here.
Sitting on the chaise lounge, his elbows resting on his knees, Dorian is here in my bedroom. I freeze where I stand, unable to do much more than breathe, and even that is a feat. The sound of my rapid heartbeat drowns out the music, blood rushing my ears and painting my face with a scarlet flush. How? Why? The questions are on the tip of my tongue yet I am unable to speak. I just drink him in, completely captivated and rendered sense
less.
Dorian’s sad eyes lock onto mine and a pained grimace flashes across his beautiful face. He’s dressed in a simple tee and jeans and he’s unshaven. Even with the bit of scruff and his hair a bit more unruly than usual he is still the most perfect being I have ever seen. He stands and cautiously makes his way towards me. When only a foot stands between us, he stops, his eyes never leaving mine. His scent surrounds me, permeating my skin and hair, and I take a deep breath before I can stop myself.
Little crinkles around his eyes and the paleness of his skin tell me that he’s weakened. I just want to wrap him in my arms and hold him tight. I just want to make him better. Because having him here, seeing him after days of barely living on autopilot, I feel whole again. Dorian fixes me in a way that I could never put into words. His presence scoops up those jagged little shards of my heart and, piece by piece, puts it together again.
As if hearing my internal admission, Dorian sighs and opens his mouth to speak. But before any sound escapes, I am pressing a finger to his soft lips and shaking my head.
“Please. Don’t. Don’t say anything,” I whisper. “Because hearing your voice will break me again. I won’t be able to come back from that. I will crumble right here in front of you.”
With pain and regret etched on his face, Dorian nods. He brings his hand up to my finger still on his lips and holds it to his face, nuzzling into my touch. Electric warmth ignites at my fingertips, crawling up my arm and to every nerve ending. His lips brush the inside of my palm before he rests it on his cheek and I gasp at the intimate contact, a sob building in my throat. Then he reaches out and strokes the length of my jaw gently.
We stand there for the remainder of the song- each of us cradling the other’s cheek, silently reading the grief in the other’s face. Just the simple, chaste gesture is enough to begin to heal the gaping wound in my chest. I could stand here and gaze at him all day without saying a word. Just enjoy the closeness of our broken bodies and the tenderness of his touch.