Page 82 of Surfaces
And making a move to test out my attraction to him wouldn’t be right. Not here or now with death all around us.
I should pull away. I should confess that I’m not drawn to him… but what if I’m cutting him off too soon? What if he’s simply being overshadowed by the others? What if he deserves more of a chance?My mind argued with itself.
What if Stavros could be good for me?
What if he could lead me away from this dark depraved path I was on—these visions full of pure unadulterated evil—and help me rediscover my goodness?
I might have to pay a price for my magic, but what if keeping him nearby helped me retain my good sense and keep those tendencies in check?
Could it?
I didn’t know—though I did believe now that I was paying a price for my magic, because Watkins hadn’t been calling for the slaughter of cities after this attack. He hadn’t been a raving lunatic…not like the turbulent, emotional visions that had run through my head.
Those were all me. The darkness and loss of humanity were mine alone.
I should warn Stavros to swim far and fast and never return.
My eyes traced the soft golden curve of his cheek, the strong jaw that was common to all sirens.
Why didn’t I feel that pull? My lips parted in frustration, and I sought the courage to tell him the truth or even just find the strength to swim away from him. But battle had weakened me, leaving me wrung out, unable to do more than ponder.
Someone came to collect Julian while Stavros and I remained in each other’s arms, staring at each other.
Stavros misread my intentions. His light blue eyes darted down to my mouth. Then he leaned down to me.
He was nervous, and it was adorably charming to watch him swallow hard and reach up and cup my cheek, so charming that I forgot to tell him that it was hopeless.
I tried to will fizzy sparks to light up my belly. But my chest gave off only a peculiar shiver, a warning flinch like I might upon spotting a snake or other unsavory creature.
My chest had been doing that a lot lately, feeling strange things at odd moments. It only proved to me that my mind’s urges and whims were just as illogically silly as my heart’s had ever been.
For instance, when Stavros’s lips approached mine, I felt a sliver of anger.
And when his lips pressed against my own.
Nothing.
Just cold skin sliding along mine, warm breath cascading down my chin. I closed my eyes and waited for the kiss to be over, holding back a sigh of disappointment.
Why? Why did I have to feel this way? Was I broken? Why couldn’t I want him?
My fingers dug into the creases of his elbows and I suddenly felt the urge to maim him, to hurt him, to watch him crawl bleeding on the floor of my sandstone palace, dragging himself along the ground like a slug, leaving a thick, wet, red trail behind him.
Desperately, I reached up to his own cheek and caressed it as I deepened the kiss, trying to force passion, intimacy, something to counteract my magic’s violent vision.
I nipped at his lip and turned our kiss into an open-mouthed exploration, pretending I was still the sweet girl in the ballroom back in Evaness. I tried to fabricate affection, even just the dullest of sparks.
Instead, I felt panic, revulsion, even hate slide across my brain.
Sard it.
I was so utterly warped and twisted that I couldn’t find it in me to be attracted to a soft, gentle man.
No, I wanted someone dark and dangerous, someone who could be just as cruel beneath the surface as I was.
Stavros pulled back, blinking slowly and I bit my lip in regret as I studied his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head and took his hand, almost as if I was pleading with him to forgive me. “I wish I could fall in love with you…”
