Page 48 of Blue Embers
“The game is always dangerous,” I smirked.
That night, I was unable to get out of that bed with Persephone. She fell asleep and like a moth to a flame, I wrapped my arms around her and held her naked body close to mine, listening to her breathing. She fit so effortlessly, her head rested against my bicep. Her long legs curled just right for mine to fit behind them. I was falling, that was for sure. Now my choices were to keep falling or catch myself before I descended too far. Before I couldn’t climb out of the hole I was sinking into.
I pressed my lips to Persephone’s shoulder, her soft skin so smooth and addicting, thinking. For some reason, she’d attracted me and before I knew it, I found myself wanting more than her body. I thought about it. Looking at her bare flesh, I imagined what my mark would look like on her. The thought terrified me, but at the same time, it was tantalizing. The part that made me hesitant was that Icouldimagine my mark on her. I hadn’t even let the thought grow in decades about any other woman. In fact, deep down, the idea was appalling until now.
Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath of Persephone’s scent. That aroma I’d come to be able to pick up from what seemed like miles away. She’d burrowed into every facet of my awareness. This woman, whether she was trying to or not, had awoken a very dormant side of me. I found it easy to drift off into a deep, comforting slumber with her coiled in my arms, her heartbeat a soothing lullaby in my ears.
When I woke, it was because I felt the cool air on my chest where Persephone was no longer pressed against me. I opened my eyes to see that it was dark out and the bed was empty in front of me. Lifting my head, I looked around the darkened room and listened, wondering if she’d gotten up for a drink or to use the restroom, but something was off. I couldn’t hear her. I couldn’t sense her in the house at all. Sitting up, I said her name, confused, but there was no answer. Somehow she’d snuck out of my grip and left without me noticing. That wasn’t normal.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I began getting dressed, standing into my pants and throwing on my shirt as I walked toward the living room. The chill of cold air from outside caught my attention when I emerged.
Glancing toward the front door, I noticed it was wide open, the breeze knocking it lightly against the wall of the entranceway. I moved toward it, more alarmed now as the strange signs began to accumulate. Outside, Persephone’s car was gone. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dialed her number. To my horror, the sound of her cell began to buzz from inside the house where her phone was sitting on the kitchen counter.
20
Persephone
. . .
I’d fallen asleep next to Killian, which was certainly something I never expected to do. Killian knew me better than most in our short time together. He’d seen my most vulnerable sides and he didn’t run from them. He’d seen my tears and my weaknesses and hopefully my strengths, though I felt those had become pretty scarce as of late. If that wasn’t throwing out signals, I didn’t know what was, but I wanted so badly not to be let down. Getting hurt because I wanted more and he didn’t was something I couldn’t handle at the moment. For now, I needed to be prepared for the connection to get severed. I just needed to enjoy what I had with Killian. I suspected it would end eventually anyways.
Killian, damn the man, knew how to cuddle. I lay on my side, my bare back pressed up against his chest as we slept. His warmth was like heaven on my skin. His form fit like the right puzzle piece along the bends of my body. His arm wrapped around me in a protective and affectionate manner. I could hear his breathing in the silence. His steady heartbeat tapped against my shoulders. I could have stayed there for days in that position, cocooned in his presence.
After I felt my body awaken, I pretended I was still fast asleep, wishing I didn’t have to move from that place. Killian’s hot breath against my neck was practically orgasmic on its own and I was starting to think I couldn’t live without that body nearby. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel alone. I didn’t feel like I was falling or like I was lost. I felt grounded, safe, and at peace, despite everything that was going on.
I wanted to turn around and look at Killian to remind myself he was real, but I didn’t want to disturb him. I didn’t want us to separate and I was willing to let my muscles grow stiff to keep us curled up together like we were. All I could do was imagine him in my head and the image was soothing, nearly lulling me to sleep again. My hands were itching to turn and touch him and, opening my eyes, that’s what...
….I wasn’t in my room…
As soon as I woke, I realized I wasn’t even in my house anymore. I wasn’t even lying down. I was standing on the street at daybreak in front of an old-fashioned building.
Whipping my head around, I saw my sister’s car behind me, parked on the curb. The keys were in the ignition as I tried the door handle, I realized I’d locked them in. Suddenly I felt a wave of panic testing my sanity. I felt my pulse racing and my breath moving so fast I was going to pass out if I didn’t get a hold of myself.
Attempting to slow my heart rate, I pressed a palm to my chest and took in breaths as slowly and as deeply as I could, but even then I was terrified. I had to have blacked out. I’d driven somewhere in my sleep. I’d gotten up and left my house while I was out cold and somehow I ended up here. I’d never done that before. Not once, but sleepwalking was the only explanation I could think of. Either that or I’d been drugged.
Turning to face the building again, I found that I recognized it. As my panic subsided, I realized I was standing in front of the museum, the sun barely crowning over the horizon. Shaking, I wondered if I should go inside. Perhaps I could call someone. Maybe I could find a friendly face and sit for a moment while I tried to process what the hell was going on. Looking both ways, I realized that the streets were empty and silent. No traffic. No pedestrians. I had to be dreaming.
It took only a few more seconds to deduce that the situation was not a nightmare. The too-real feeling of my heart trying to explode from my chest gave that away. I started toward the museum’s front entrance. I was walking on wobbly legs, but I managed to gradually ascend the steps to the front door. Pulling the handle, I walked into an empty foyer, finding it odd that the building hadn’t been locked. The lights were out, leaving the interior looking like a black hole. It was so quiet it was almost uncomfortable. A big part of me didn’t want to take another step, but another part of me wanted to know what the hell brought me here.
I forced myself to walk forward, feeling around my jeans for my phone, but somehow I seemed to have left it. I wanted to call Killian more than anything. There certainly weren’t any comforting feelings coming from that museum and without a way to tell time, I could only imagine it was very early or very late considering the sun wasn’t up. I didn’t even think about which direction I saw it in and therefore couldn’t tell if it was rising or setting. I was so disoriented. Hell, maybe it wasn’t even the same day.
As I continued through the entrance, I started to smell something odd in the air. It smelled like the smoke of some plant or herb burning nearby. Perhaps sage, but it was sweeter. I couldn’t place it, but it was faint, so I brushed it off.
“Hello?” I said in a small voice, my words seeming much louder in that empty silence.
No one answered. I walked to the wall where I knew the lightswitch was and flipped it on, feeling much better when the chandeliers above illuminated the vacant lobby, but an odd feeling was still amiss.
I made my way to the front desk across the lobby and reached over for the phone just behind the ledge. Picking it up, I poised my fingers over the numbered buttons to call Killian, but the lack of a dial tone made me freeze before hitting the first digit. Now my heart was racing again. I leaned further over the desk to see the cord had been cut and hung loose.
I swallowed hard and hung up the phone. Something was not right. Something was telling me I shouldn’t have even stepped foot in the museum. I should have gotten in my car, whatever it took, and left. That’s exactly what I needed to do.
I turned, pacing quickly toward the door, but a few steps into my retreat, I heard a voice. I halted, eyes forward. Behind me, someone had said my name. Spinning around, I eyed the double doors that led to the Draak exhibit. There was far too prominent a feeling in my gut to ignore, but that voice pulled me in. A man’s voice. I slowly pivoted my body to face the doors directly.
“Hello?” I said, listening through the silence for a response.
“Per...seph..ane,” a man said, straining to speak loud enough for me to hear.
I gasped, realizing whose voice I was hearing, and walked quickly toward the doors.
