“Eden.” Cyrus strolled over to them as they eyed one another. “This is Darius.” Minding her manners, Eden stuck out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir.” Darius' full mouth quirked up at the corner and his black eyes sought Cyrus. Those eyes gave nothing away, almost as blank as that of a soul eater. He took her hand and Eden was almost blown off her feet by his power.
“What the-”
“Eden,” Cyrus interjected before she could say anything that would be construed as rude. “Darius wanted to meet with you before the change.”
“I see.” I really don't.
“Come,” Darius commanded in his deep voice, gesturing to the dining table at the window that overlooked the freeway - or motorway, as the Brits called it. “Let's sit.” As Eden took a seat, ignoring the heat of Noah's body so close to hers as he sat in the chair beside her, she studied Darius. Like Cyrus he only appeared to be in his early thirties but Eden didn't think he was as handsome as Cyrus. There was something too austere about his hawk-like features to label him handsome… but his dark skin and eyes were just as exotic. And Eden had to admit Darius' was a face you felt compelled to stare at.
“I hear you have had a difficult time, Eden,” he began.
She shrugged but cleared her throat when Noah elbowed her, reminding her who she was speaking to. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”
“You lost your family. Your brother.”
At the mere mention of Stellan Eden went cold inside. “Yes,” she managed through clenched teeth, narrowing her eyes. Suddenly she didn't care who this guy was.
Darius' expression didn't change. He shifted forward, leaning over the table towards her. Eden's eyes flickered down at the movement and caught on the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. The design was a stylised eye that seemed familiar to her. She sifted through her memories trying to place the design. A recollection from when she was little, of Stellan sitting next to her on her bed flicking through pages of a book on Egyptian mythology, flashed across her mind. The eye throbbed black in the memory. That tattoo was definitely Egyptian.
“Stellan.”
Eden flinched at the name and looked back up into Darius' face.
“That was your brother's name, was it not?”
“Yes.”
“Do you miss him?”
Heart pounding like crazy now, Eden's rage fought the effects of the drug Cyrus had given her, waking up her hunger. Noah's soul, the one that had always tormented her most, reached out to her with warm fingers.
Take it, Eden. Take it. Take it for Stellan.
No, she shook her head, curling her toes inside her boots. She shoved back from the table, away from Noah and the others and glared at this man who seemed to be deliberately baiting her. “What kind of question is that?” she snapped.
“Eden,” Cyrus warned.
She glared at him, her eyes saying, ‘I knew it. I knew you weren't to be trusted.' “What is this?” She eyed them all suspiciously.
“Eden.” Noah reached for her, as if to calm her, and she slapped his arm away, jerking to her feet.
“Just answer the question,” Darius' voice rumbled through her. Just as she imagined compulsion must work, Eden knew she'd answer.
“Yes,” she hissed. “I miss him.”
“How much?”
“What-”
“Answer.”
Trembling now, feeling ambushed, Eden felt angry tears prick her eyes.
Want their souls. The Hunger purred. Want. Take. It roared now in fury. TAKE!
Shuddering at the need inside her, a need that hadn't been so strong since she'd begun taking the drug, Eden dropped her eyes and bit her hands into the edge of the table. She could feel their gazes burning into her. She knew her eyes had bled white; they knew her hunger was trying to take control of her.
“It's like someone has cut off my arm,” she snarled in a voice that was barely recognisable. “I keep expecting him to bound through the door, or send me a funny text. I dream he's still alive. And when I wake up, the agony is... The days when I feel numb are better. Hard. And numb. I can live with that.”