by Alex Hayes
“Who are they?” Nicole’s question buzzes in my ear like a mosquito.
I flick her away with a flip of my wrist and continue forward.
Cadi’s lips turn up at the sides, and her lush green eyes sparkle. Satisfaction and pleasure roll off her like melted chocolate, warm and sweet. And the fact that she just blew me away has got to be apparent to every single person in this room.
Freaking Nicole included.
Cadi steps ahead of my mom who’s holding back. Unusual for Janice Williams who knows how to capture an audience, but she seems to have cottoned on to the fact there’s business here that needs to be addressed. Business that has everything to do with my fiancée.
Our hands meet and lock, fingers weaving together like living fabric.
A pert smile presses into Cadi’s cheeks. “Howdy, stranger.” She leans in and kisses me. On the lips. A warm, sensuous and perfectly awesome kiss.
“Hey,” I answer, breathlessly. How pathetic a greeting was that? But it’s all I can manage.
Man, I’m such a loser, but I sense amusement radiating off Cadi and catch the gentle laughter that shakes her chest.
She drops my hands and turns to Nicole’s father. “Mr. Robertson, Rowan has just been telling me so many nice things about you. I’m Catrin Rhoswen, Idris’s fiancée.”
Cadi’s eyes flash with razor sharpness in Nicole’s direction. My beautiful kitty’s out of the bag and ready for a cat fight.
Harvey Robertson glows while Nicole’s fake smile turns upside down.
Cadi swivels to face her. “And you must be Nikki. I understand you’ve been showing Idris the city’s highlights. Have you worked in the tourist industry long?”
Nicole’s face stiffens into a confused frown. “Tourist industry?”
Holding my amusement at bay, I clear my throat and turn to Harvey. “Catrin is my backup vocalist.”
His eyes light up as bright as the glowing swimming pool outside. “Then may I entertain the possibility you’ll be joining Idris when he sings this evening?”
A stunning smile curves Cadi’s lips. “It would be my pleasure.”
But I pick up on the layer of mist in her eyes, feel the tiredness rolling off her, and turn to our host. “Would you happen to have a room where Catrin might rest until the performance?” I brush a gentle hand over her protruding belly, meeting her eyes with a grin over our little bundle of joy. “Pregnancy has really taken the steam out of her.”
Harvey’s eyes widen with concern. “Of course. You can use my office. Come, follow me.”
I pause to introduce my mom to the Robertsons and enjoy the influx of shock and anger sliding across Nicole’s features, as if she’s finally realized she’s outnumbered, four to one.
Placing an arm around Cadi’s waist, I guide her down a long hallway after Harvey Robertson, while Mom and Rowan follow.
43
Rowan
The door of the wood-paneled office closes behind Harvey Robertson’s retreating figure. The room is classic eighteenth century Victorian, and the faint smell of oiled leather and cigar smoke adds to its authenticity.
I press my back against the door’s oak panels to ensure we aren’t interrupted without warning.
Cadi transforms to Livran, and with a giant sigh, she drops onto the coffee-colored couch. “Wasn’t sure I was going to make it.”
Idris sits beside her, back straight, eyes attentive. “Are you okay, babe?”
She smiles and nods.
He blinks, head shaking. “What are you doing here?” His gaze drifts from Cadi to his mom. “Both of you? I can’t believe you came…”
Together. The unspoken word floats between them.
Janice Williams laughs. No anger. No bitterness. Simply amusement.
She settles on the couch at the other side of Idris and circles his shoulders with an arm. “Sweetheart, did you really think we’d leave you to the wolves?”
Cadi chews at her lower lip. “Your mom arranged for a limo service to bring us—tinted glass, reclining seats, the whole nine yards.” She brushes the sequined dress snuggly wrapping her body. “And lent me this dress.”
“Which she adjusted her figure to fit perfectly.” Mrs. Williams chuckles, sounding genuinely impressed. “A trick I wish I could pull off.”
Idris looks from one woman to the other, clearly stunned. “So you’re speaking to each other?”
His mom squeezes his arm. “A conversation that’s been long overdue. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have held back. Thirty-six hours alone with Cadi has been productive. I’ve gained a much better understanding of your relationship.”
Cadi beams.
Idris nods, looking bemused. He turns to her, eyes darkening with concern. “Are you okay doing backup vocals? I can sing alone. That was my original plan.”
Cadi buoys up in her seat. “With a rest in between, I’m good for twenty minutes in human form. Rowan filled us in on what’s going on. I’ll absolutely sing if that helps.”
His brow dips. “You sure you’ll feel comfortable? I don’t want this stressing you out.”
She waves his concern away. “I’ll be fine as long as you’re beside me.”
Idris grins and grabs her hand. “I should go check with Maggie and Harvey, and find out when they want this performance to happen.” He kisses Cadi’s forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
“I can’t believe you drove all the way out here,” I say, once the door closes.
Janice shrugs. “It was the logical thing to do. After I saw those pictures… Well, I had to do something.” Her forehead folds up like a paper airplane, eyebrows forming its wings. “That girl with Harvey Robertson. She was the one in the pictures?”
I nod. “She slipped vodka into his sparkling water.”
His mom sucks in a breath. “Idris can’t tolerate anything with alcohol.”
“Do you know what happened?” Cadi asks. “I mean, after he passed out. What did that girl do to him?”
“I’m not sure. Idris can’t remember, but he was really upset. I mean, he didn’t know what might’ve happened…” I drop my gaze to my feet.
“Oh!”
My head bounces up at Cadi’s exclamation.
Her gold-rimmed Livran eyes widen into saucers. “You mean, like she might’ve…had her way with him?”
Heat floods into my cheeks. “He was unconscious, Cadi. He’s afraid she might have manipulated him, so to speak, into doing the, um…deed, unawares.”
Cadi jumps to her feet. “Nope, absolutely not.” She glances at his mother, whose eyebrows have jumped to her hairline, then purses her lips. “Nothing happened.”
“How…?” I reach for the back of my neck as discomfort creeps up my spine. “How do you know?”
“Seriously, Rowan. I’d have felt it if he’d…you know. Once you’ve done it together.” Her eyes lock on mine, possibly to avoid meeting Janice’s accidentally. “Well, you recognize those feelings in each other. They’re kind of complex, with a definite…signature. If he’d…I’d know, that’s all.”
“Well, that’s a relief. He’s been seriously worried.”
Cadi’s face splits into a wide smile. “I’ll tell him. Maybe after I’ve let him sweat, you know, just a little.”
Janice laughs, and I marvel at the bond that’s formed between them.
Watching Idris and Cadi perform together is like witnessing love incarnate. Their voices, blending in perfect harmony, are far and above the sum of each one, and when they hit the chorus, a message resonates through my crystal. If you can hear this, come find me. Los Angeles, California. A call to the other Livran teens.
The performance over, Idris tries to whisk Cadi away, but Maggie DeBoise begs him to wait while she confers with the movie backers over his song. So Janice and I slip Cadi out to the waiting limo.
“After tonight, you’re taking a hiatus from being human,” Janice lectures in no uncertain terms.
I glance over to gauge Cadi’s reaction, b
ut she just smiles. Amazing to think this is the same girl who was terrified of Idris’s mother a few days ago.
The door opens and Idris launches himself into the vehicle, a glow on his face bright enough to light the city of Los Angeles. “They want the song.” He grabs Cadi’s hands. “And they want us to sing it. Together.”
We cheer.
A glance from Cadi to Idris tells me there’s no parting them. “Hey, why don’t I drive your car home?”
Idris hands over the valet ticket, no questions asked.
I glance at his mom, who’s settled back, eyes glued to a tablet. Guess she’s not planning to give these two any privacy. Not yet, anyway. She probably wants to be sure things don’t get too steamy until they arrive home.
With a wave, I climb from the limo and request the Beemer be brought around. While I wait, a flutter rises in my chest, and that ever-present tug revitalizes.
He’s close by.
As the gates part to let the Beemer pass, I catch sight of a crowd of paparazzi. Cameras take aim but none flash.
Thankfully, I’m not a star-spangled somebody.
I turn onto the main road and pull over under the canopy of an aged oak contained within a stone-walled front yard.
Con sits on the wall, too far from the gates to be there for pictures.
Emotional upheaval falls short to describe the turmoil inside me, a strange mix of my feelings and his that spirals into one huge question.
Where do we go from here?
I round the car and stop in front of him. “What are you doing here?”
Dark eyes settle on mine. “Waiting for you.”
Slowly, I nod, but Con’s desires are no clearer to me now than they were the first time we talked.
His head tilts. “Idris’s girlfriend was here, wasn’t she?”
“Cadi. Yes. His mom brought her from New York.”
“I sensed her crystal.” Light catches in his eyes as he glances at the gates. “She was inside a limo with Idris, right? Her crystal’s resonance is as strong as his and about a hundredth of the strength of yours. Why is that?”
Fear jolts through me.
“Yeah, and I felt that too. What are you hiding from me, Rae?”
I take a step backward and come to rest against the side of the Beemer.
Con hops off the wall and closes in, trapping me between him and the vehicle. His warm breath brushes my forehead as he scans my face, expectantly.
“Our crystals are different from theirs,” I answer woodenly.
“I get that, because I can’t sense her emotions any more than I can his.”
“But they sense each other’s.” Seems safer to approach this confession using Idris and Cadi as examples.
“Why?”
“Because their crystals are identical.” I brush a lock of hair from my face. “The crystals come from a kind of tree. The tree has flowers, and each flower contains a crystal pair. Twins.”
Con crosses his arms in front of him, the tips of his elbows a hair’s breadth from my chest. “They’re together, right?”
“Uh…”
“Like they’re in a long-term relationship.”
I swallow. “They’re bond mates.”
“As in married…in Livran terms. Is that what you mean?”
“They were chosen to be bonded shortly after birth. There’s some compatibility criteria that’s followed, then they each receive one of a crystal pair. On Daïzani, they would’ve been raised together. Bonding is a lifetime thing, but they wouldn’t become a couple until they reached maturity and their crystals settled.”
“You mean like ours did by sinking into our chests?” Con’s eyes are steely beams of inquiry, and I can’t miss the irritation rising off him.
I nod, waiting for the inevitable question.
“So the emotion-reading ability means our crystals are twins?”
My palms settle against the side of the Beemer. “Yes.”
His chest rises and falls with a deep intake of air. “Then you and I…we’re bond mates?”
I melt against the car door, hoping to gain a few more microns of distance as his frustration curls like smoke from a volcano in the space between us.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“And you weren’t planning to tell me.” His mouth sets into a hard line as anger and disappointment curl and coil. “Why?”
Tears clog my throat and catch like dew in my eyelashes. I look away. “You have a life, Con. You told me so the day we met. A life that doesn’t include me. I don’t want to interfere with your happiness.”
He looks perplexed. “What about your happiness?”
My lower lip quivers until I bite it. “You…,” I sniff. “You already have a girlfriend.”
“What?” He stares at me, then his eyes widen. “No, Rae. Not a girlfriend. I have a sister.”
I swallow. “A sister?”
He drops his arms to his sides. “Azera lived at my last foster home. I spent four years working as a slave for her father. He abused her. I would’ve left that place within a week, but I couldn’t abandon her.”
He sees Azera as a sister. Loves her, like a sister. How did I get his feelings for her so totally screwed up?
“She was too afraid of the guy to leave,” Con explains. “So every time he broke her, I put her back together. We grew close, and when we finally escaped that hellhole, all we had was each other.”
My heart wrenches at the thought of them trapped in such an awful place.
His hands slide down my arms and wrap around my fingers. “I love her like a sister, and I could never abandon her. But she’s not my girlfriend, Rae. I’ve never had a girlfriend. No one caught my interest, and when I met you, I realized why. Because no one could replace that sweet little girl who forever wanted me to fix her broken flowers.”
He closes the space between us until we’re chest to chest, our crystals humming joyfully. “So many memories of my childhood have faded, but I couldn’t forget you.”
Con lifts his hands to my shoulders and threads his fingers into my hair. His thumbs glide across my neck, making my whole body light up. I press closer, sliding arms up his toned back and cozying them in the warmth between his coat and T-shirt.
He molds his body to mine as our lips meet, gently at first, then with a rising heat that sets the nerves throughout my body tingling. I want him in every way imaginable. Body, heart and soul.
We part for air, laughing at our breathlessness.
I draw in the potent love brewing between us, curling and reforming, ever changing, then melt back into his embrace. Soft lips blaze a fiery path from my earlobe to my collarbone, and I quiver with delight.
Con lifts his head, eyes shining like twin flames. “Come home to me, Rae.”
As his words echo those of a song he’s never heard, I know he doesn’t mean a house. He’s welcoming me into his heart.
44
Connell
Four months later…
I tap my earpiece. “Hey, Az. You ready? They’re heading out any second now.” I cross the fancy living room and peek through closed curtains.
Azera’s in position, camera to eye, waiting. “Any day this week,” she mutters as those seconds stretch.
Oh, yeah. I’m in charge of the door.
Idris messes with his silver-gray bow tie in the hall mirror. Opening night for the movie featuring his song has got the guy seriously worked up.
Rowan swats his fingers away. “It was fine,” she grumbles, and straightens the choke knot around his neck. “There. Don’t touch it again.”
He smirks. “Yes, Mom.”
Janice Williams clears her throat. “Last time I checked, I was your mother.” She looks him over as she pulls on a billowy black evening coat and secures it at the waist.
Idris’s lips twist under her scrutiny.
She smiles. “Sweetheart, you look perfect.”
Too bad Cadi isn’t here to see this. She’s been back in New York for two months
, counting down the hours to her delivery date. Going human isn’t an option any longer. Not even for a few minutes.
Idris’s dad, Brandon, reaches a tuxedo-cuffed hand for the doorknob. “We’re running late.”
Not really, but Brandon Williams is a motivational guru, and being on time is one of his mantras.
“Let me get that.” I slide in to doorman position.
Brandon nods and gestures his wife ahead as I tug open the entry.
Azera’s camera flash kicks off.
I hold Idris back to give his parents time to clear the frame. “Okay, go ahead.”
He straightens the tailored jacket of his black tux and steps into a second round of rapid-fire flashes.
“Who’s doing the interview?” I say into my mic as I watch Idris’s parents climb inside the silver stretch limo.
Azera glances my way. “Kay Speldek. She’s in the car with her vidog.”
“Vidog?” That’s a new one.
Idris ducks into the vehicle after his parents, and the driver closes the door.
Azera slips into the front passenger seat. “Vidog is like photog only for videographers.”
“You made that up, didn’t you?” I say, smiling.
She tosses a smirk my way before closing her door. “Maybe.”
As the limo pulls away, I close the front entry. Warm arms circle my waist. I turn in them and pull Rowan against my chest.
“Finally, we’re alone,” she says, lifting her lips to greet mine.
“Not completely,” Azera pipes up through my earbud.
Shoot, we’re still connected.
“Almost alone,” I answer my girlfriend. “Talk to you, Az.”
“Later, Crow Boy.” She hangs up.
“Now we’re alone.” My mouth meets Rowan’s in a very alone kiss.
“You still liking the job?” she murmurs as I pinch her earlobe between my lips. Her hair smells like chai with a hint of vanilla.
I’ve been Idris’s publicist for a week. If a job could be tailor-made, this is the one. I get to work with Azera, Idris’s official press photographer, troll the Internet and arrange all his media events, and while doing that, I share an office with Rowan. “What’s not to like?”
