Page 1 of A Deal For a Kiss

PROLOGUE

Ivy

It was black for only a moment. In and out of it I went. Her voice was there; I was surrounded by the strangers on the street. It was plain and normal, and I had nothing to fear. Then there was nothing.

In a single step the chill of fall was gone. The heat licked across my back as if flames were there, but it was vacant of light. Nothing but darkness.

In a blink, the light returned. People moved about me as if nothing had happened. My heart rampaged, desperate to escape, and my scream was caught in the back of my throat.

Had it happened at all? Too paralyzed to move, all I did was breathe, then I was taken again. Back to the darkness, falling this time and landing harshly on the rough carved stone beneath me.

I could see nothing, feel nothing but the unforgiving stone. Hear nothing but the violent beat of my pulse. I thought therewas no one and nothing, until I felt him behind me. Turning as quickly as I could served no purpose; there was nothing but blackness surrounding me.

Surely I was somewhere I didn’t belong and then, at once, I was returned. Back to the modern world built on ancient ruins with a history so cursed and intricate not a soul could know of what would plague me. Of him. I thought I was alone in that dark place. But the two deep marks on the back of my hip would prove that to be a lie.

I wasn’t alone in that place...and I’m not alone here either.

IVY

It was the architecture that brought me to Edinburgh. I thought I could learn from the old buildings that have housed so many stories and all the places where so many lives have lived. The texture of the walls and the plants that have overgrown fallen castles. The romantic side of me was pulled to the fantasy of it all. My love of history is one thing, my desire for stories is another.

I thought my life in Scotland would be picturesque like the photos they show to prospective students to help them make their decision. My sabbatical only lasts so long and it’s time for me to make a hard decision on what to do after my master’s program is over. Real life as some would say, but I wasn’t ready.

I’m not naive enough to believe that real life always turns out like a dream or a glossy photograph in a brochure.

I didn’t expect everything to be so different. I could have never imagined what was to come. The unsettling feelings deep in the marrow of my bones. The chills that would come without warning. And yet…how it all would still call to me.

I pull my hood tighter over my head as I walk down the wet sidewalk. It’s been raining most of the day. The pitter-patter and the harsh cold have been near constants. At first, they weresoothing, nearly cleansing, but the gray skies have drained me almost as much as the nightmares have. I dare to peer up… The rain isn’t quite rain right now. It’s spitting, like it could become heavy fog any second.

The wind bites the tip of my nose. The rain is the kind that chills me to the bone.

The murky light reflects how I feel about this street and the sun, which is already mostly set. My boots click on the uneven stone walk as I pass the street as quickly as I can. Edinburgh looks older in the dark, as if the buildings are hiding secrets behind their doors and windows.

Some of those buildingsarehiding secrets.

But I still find myself desperate to reach the café and go inside. The chill deepens despite the hood of my rain jacket, and I know it’shim. Swallowing thickly, I quicken my pace.

He’s stalking me. If he’s even real… This city is making me think I’m losing my mind.

When I first came to Edinburgh, I thought I felt that way because I was alone in a new city without many friends. I’ve always been a loner, but I’ve never felt the loneliness that’s haunted me here.

It was harder than I thought to find people to talk to. I had imagined forming a group of friends who would walk with me to the café and spread their notebooks and books out on the table with mine. I thought maybe we’d have so much to talk about that the barista might give us a look or two warning us to quiet down.

In my imagination, the barista would actually be fond of our meetings and might even sit down for tea or coffee with us, and we’d find out we had things in common and they would become part of our group.

I had so many fantasies of what these three months would become and not a damn one has come true.

The rain gets heavier as I reach the door of the café. The glass is clouded with the heat from the inside, and a quiet bell tinkles as I enter. Rain splashes as I take off my jacket and try to shake it over the threshold without letting any more rain in, but a spray of droplets falls to the floor.

I shoot an apologetic look at the barista, but she’s looking down at something behind the counter and doesn’t notice. It’s a slight reprieve. Although the pit in my stomach has settled in with what feels like cement.

I take another peek over my shoulder as the warmth wraps around me and I realize she’s new. I had at least learned the name of the young woman who’s been here the majority of the time I’ve come: Tammy.

This woman though? I have no idea.

She’s still looking down as I approach to order. For a few seconds, as I wait for my mug of hot water, I think about introducing myself to her.

That’s probably asking too much of a barista. I come here because it’s the place that’s most familiar to me in Edinburgh, close to the lease I’m staying in, and maybe because I’m still holding out hope that I’ll get a group of friends and I’ll be able to say,there’s a place I always visit—it’s small and cozy and I think you’d like it too.

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