Page 24 of Music of the Night
I craved those words from her; they were sweeter than the sweetest wines. I pulled back, twisting my fingers through her hair to guide her lips to mine. She responded with a matched fever, moving until she straddled me, her warm body pressing against me as she took over the kiss with her insistence.
I shifted to move her down on the bed, but she wouldn’t let me. With a sly smile, she pushed against my chest until I lay flat and she moved on top of me, shimmying out of her dress. It hit the floor, and she helped me out of my shirt and pants before taking control again. I liked her even more then. She was bold, confident in her moves. She bent over me; her erect nipples grazing my chest, sending all the blood shooting down to make me harder than before. Pressing a hand to the subtle skin of her hips, I stroked, one hand going back to grip her bottom, squeezing as her eyes glazed over. She rubbed against me, panting before placing a hand against my cheek.
“Uriah,” she whispered, breathless. “I’m going to save you.”
I did not have time to wonder what that meant, odd words, for her to say and yet, she saw more than I gave her credit for. Palming her breast in one of my hands I lifted her nipple to my lips, catching her gaze right before I licked it. “You already have.”
Her reply was lost as I took her nipple between my teeth, playfully biting, licking, eliciting more cries of rapt delight. Warm thighs gripped me and I enjoyed her naked figure in the candlelight, her soft curves, the subtle tilt of her mouth as she struggled for control.
“Just let go,” I told her as she guided my cock up and into her. “Just enjoy.”
I held her tightly against me as our hips moved in sync; she was just as warm and tight as before, just as heavenly. I sensed us diving over the cliff together into bliss as past and future faded until it was only us, in a beautiful, minute existence. This I would treasure, this moment I would remember and take to the grave. Whether my plan failed or succeeded.
21
Aria
The first performance night would arrive soon, and yet I could not unravel the mystery of my lover. I had to find out what kept him in High Tower and how to free him. I’d promised and the look on his face had been closed, guarded. Yet he’d given me the gift. I lifted the jewel off my neck to stare at it again.
The imperfect cut made me love it all the more with its many sides and angles. It was no small stone and fit in the center of the palm of my hand, and yet when I held it, a chill went over me. Something within the ruby moved and swirled, a thread of blackness. When I allowed my thoughts to drift, all I could think of was blood and the clawed bodies. If the creatures of the night were real, they were already within the gates of High Tower Castle. That very thought made me reluctant to venture out of my room alone, especially at night.
Still, when the organ music played, I couldn’t help but go to the window and listen, the winter breeze blowing my hair straight back and chilling me through and through. My lips parted, and I imagined him, in all his glory, sitting down to play and pulling the threads of an untold story of pain back into his life. Although I assumed the pain was from his childhood, I wondered. Was it his lack of acceptance? The scarring around his eye? I felt uniquely bound to him, and he’d shared so much and revealed so little all at the same time.
The telling tap-tap came on my door, and then Samara burst in. “Look at you at the window again,” She shook her head in disapproval. “And you did not even bother to lock your door. One day I’m going to walk in, and something will have eaten you.”
Latching the window, I moved to the fire and held my hands over the dying embers. “Samara, I need your help.”
“It’s about time.” Samara set down the tray of food and rubbed her hands together as she joined me in front of the fire. Nudging me with her elbow, she asked, “You’re going to tell me about him, aren’t you?”
I reached for the poker to stir the embers back to life. “Yes, you’re right, I do have a secret lover. Samara,” I dropped my tone as though the very walls were listening. “You can’t tell anyone about him.”
“On my honor.” Samara nodded so hard her bonnet slipped off. She placed her hand on her heart. “I swear, I won’t tell a soul.”
Leaning the poker against the wall, I sat down on the rug in front of the fire, tucking my legs under me. Samara joined me, her eyes dancing with curiosity.
“Remember the night the first man was killed?”
Samara nodded, eyes as big as a teacup saucer.
“I snuck away to find the tower, the one you claim is haunted.”
“Lord save us,” Samara muttered under her breath.
I squeezed her arm. “It’s not haunted at all. A man lives there. He’s the one who plays the music each evening. I asked him to teach me to sing, and he did. That’s why I’ve been sneaking away.”
Samara’s jaw dropped, and she stared. “Oh Aria, you’ve been bewitched.”
“No.” I reached out a hand to reassure her. “Although I must admit, there is some magic at work. But he is my instructor, you’ve heard me sing.”
“Aria.” Samara’s eyes glistened with tears. “You’re not the first one to learn music from him. It happened a long time ago, before I came here. Another lady went to sing for him, and she ended up dead.”
My throat went dry as dust. No. There had to be some kind of mistake. “Who told you this?”
“Madame Blu, who else.” Samara chewed her lower lip.
It was a blow. Madame Blu was so kind. Would she lie about something like this? And I had to admit, more deaths had taken place in High Tower Castle, ever since I’d gone to see him. Oh goddess, had I started something?
“Is there proof?” There had to be a falsehood somewhere, and I’d find it. Just the way Uriah helped me sing, made me feel for him could be no lie. It was truth and purity and love, I felt it in the depths of my being. Surely there was a misunderstanding somewhere.
