Things That Should Stay Buried - Casey L. Bond Page 0,91
spot that he’d bruised, now healed. I smiled. “Something the matter? Do I have a makeup smear?” I goaded.
“No,” he faltered. “You look lovely.”
I suddenly stopped and turned to him. His lips parted as his pink eyes focused on mine intently. “I just realized I don’t know where he lives.”
Aries blinked. “I can take you to him.” His fingers grazed the skin at my waist, making me hiss. I hated that I wanted him to touch me, to feel his claws graze my tender flesh, to feel his chest pressed tightly against mine.
And he knew it.
He smiled knowingly before we faded, reappearing in the middle of Xavier’s home, scaring him half to death. “What are you doing here?” he whispered, grabbing my hands. Then he saw Aries. His expression and voice hardened. “And what is he doing here?”
“I just wanted to see you and make sure you were okay,” I explained.
His lips thinned. “I’m fine. Can we speak privately?”
Aries looked around at the dwelling. The walls, ceiling, and floor were made from the same dark stone. There was a wooden cot with blankets, a basin, and a counter that wrapped around the small but tidy kitchen. The hearth was situated between the kitchen and living area where there was a wooden rocking chair. It was rather charming. Basic, but it seemed to meet every need.
Xavier looked at Aries. “Do you mind if I speak to her – alone?”
Aries fixed his impenetrable eyes on Xavier with an unreadable expression, which frankly scared me to death.
“I don’t feel comfortable with that arrangement,” Aries replied. His eyes flicked to Xavier’s hand on mine. Before removing it, Xavier squeezed it for good measure.
“So, are you two together?” he asked. “I assume that was why you had me removed from the castle, not merely because of the scheming of a few humans who want their lives back,” he snapped.
Suddenly, Xavier’s attention flickered to someone standing outside the window. I glanced outside and alarm bells went off in my head.
Please tell me they aren’t going to try anything stupid…
“We need to leave,” Aries demanded, appearing in front of me. Turning his ire to Xavier, he growled, “This was an incredibly stupid thing to do, and I’m afraid my patience with you and your friends is growing thin. One more attempt, and I’ll end you all.” He took my hand and pulled me close, and we disappeared just as three men burst through the door, their makeshift weapons raised.
My heart thundered. His arm was clamped around me, a vice, and I gripped him tightly as we reappeared on my favorite balcony. He bent his head to lay it against mine. “I don’t want you around him again.”
“Xavier would never hurt me,” I argued.
“You don’t know that. He’s desperate.”
“He’s angry, not desperate. I mean, if you think about it, right now he feels the same way the other Zodia did upon waking. You suspended their lives, then when they woke angry, they upended ours. It’s the same thing and elicits the same reaction: we want what was once ours. We’ll never stop craving it.”
Aries was quiet, seemingly lost in thought.
“Did you ever think that he might abduct you? Or maybe use you as a lure to get me into a position where they could strike? And if you say Xavier isn’t capable, what about the other men conspiring to kill me? What if they have no moral objection to using you to get what they want?”
I opened my mouth, but ultimately answered, “I didn’t think about that.”
“Men are... self-serving much of the time. And though Xavier might have good intentions, it does not mean that his compatriots do.”
“You’re right.”
He straightened, looking at me in his periphery. As his horns sparkled in the sunlight, I wondered if the heat warmed them.
“Why do you stare at them?” he asked.
“Because they’re beautiful. Different from anything I’ve seen before.”
“I can make them disappear,” he said with a grin. A second later, his horns vanished. The wind toyed with his dark hair and I raised my hand to run it across his loose strands. It was soft and smooth. He almost looked human. I told myself that if his eyes were different, he’d blend among us, but that wasn’t true. There was still something… more about him. Something even contact lenses couldn’t conceal. Something nothing could.
A groan tore from his throat. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. I pressed myself closer until my chest met his.