by Kim Petersen
‘I’ll be right back,’ Regan said, getting out of the car.
‘Oh, I see you had to pick the fanciest hotel around, good luck with that,’ Arella mumbled behind him.
He stretched his legs and grinned.
‘I don’t need luck.’
He closed the door on her and made for the reception desk. He didn’t need luck. He just needed to be who he always was.
Now, as Regan dressed and prepared to meet Arella and her friends for breakfast, he realized that the part of him they called the ‘Dark Star’ was the surest thing he knew about himself. Arella had it right; he was a dark soul.
Arella stopped short when she entered the hotel breakfast hall. She spotted Regan right away. Well, it wasn’t that hard really, the guy stood out like a sore thumb with his platinum hair falling loose over the thick black leather hoodie jacket he wore. She cursed under her breath. Did the guy really have to look that good so early in the morning? He sat at a table along the huge set of windows overlooking the valley. A sea of green stretched beyond him. Parrots, rosellas and lorikeets picked at seeds from the bird feeders hanging along the timber rafters on the other side of the glass. The scene looked as if it were plucked from a movie. Especially when he turned and grinned her way.
Arella ignored his smile and scanned the room for signs of Lenny and Jacques. Obviously, they were the sleepy heads this morning because it looked as if half the hotel guests decided to wake up super early and have breakfast at the exact same time. And most of them hovered around the heated breakfast bar like scavenging vultures. She rolled her eyes as she set off for the coffee area. She had hoped to get a quiet coffee in before having to face him. Something about the man rubbed her the wrong way. His every move infuriated her, his every word annoyed her. He was just so damned sure of himself. She filled her mug and turned to peek in his direction, gulping too much hot liquid when he hung his head and ran a hand through his hair. He was still watching her.
Ouch! Fuck! She involuntarily spluttered the coffee, spilling it over her white T-shirt. Fuck! Fuckkk. She grabbed a napkin and scowled as she lifted her face to meet his smirking gaze. Argh, this guy! She fumed silently, stalking toward him.
‘Good morning Sunshine.’ Regan’s grin was wide as she sat down opposite him.
She gave him a stiff nod.
‘Morning.’
He beamed at her. His eyes trailed to her freshly soiled white shirt.
‘Nice coffee?’
Her eyes sliced into him. ‘The coffee is fine. The coffee isn’t the issue.’
She tried to ignore the way his hair swept across his left eye when his face creased into a mock frown. The silver band on his thumb gleamed as he pushed back the loose strands.
That’s better, she thought, looking away and deliberately searching the room again for Jacques and Lenny. Where the hell are they?
‘What exactly is the issue? Isn’t it a little premature to have issues so early in the day?’
‘I thought so too. Then I saw you,’ Arella countered, taking a sip of her coffee and helping herself to a French pastry sitting on a plate between them.
Regan watched her bite into the pastry.
‘That was mine.’
She shrugged. ‘Too bad, I didn’t see any more over at the breakfast bar.’ She grinned between mouthfuls.
His brows lifted, and he leaned back in his chair.
‘Have I done something to piss you off?’
‘Apart from showing up at my back door in the middle of the night like a creepy stalker and roughing up Lenny last night?’ She shrugged and focused on the pastry before taking a bite. She slid her eyes back to him, the amusement inching over his face infuriated her. Argh! ‘The day is young, I have no doubt you’ll continue to tally up my ‘piss-off’ list.’
Regan shook his head with astonishment.
‘Are you always this preposterous?’
‘Are you always this antagonizing?’ Arella said.
His lips curled with a sharp intake of breath. He leaned over the table, his eyes boring into her as they began to whirl like a stormy night.
She ignored him and popped the last of the pastry in her mouth. She reached for a napkin and her coffee before gazing back at him.
‘Is this your black magic trick? Because I’ve news for you, mister – it’s actually not as cool as you might think. And you’ve already managed another score on my piss-off tally today. Way to go.’
‘I told you, I don’t practice black magic. Look at me,’ he murmured, his eyes rigidly piercing into her.
Arella sighed irritably. ‘I am looking at you.’
The intensity of his eyes fascinated her way more than she let on. They were colored like the dark depths of an ocean churning with gliding sparks of light. She could feel the potency of his magnetizing power beckoning her to succumb to his will. It took all her strength not to lose herself to him. She clenched her teeth together, mentally shielding herself from his captivating stare. She looked at him defiantly.
Their eyes clashed and she stifled a gasp as a jolt of electricity rushed into her like a zapping bolt. His essence entwined with hers while his presence streamed through his eyes and flowed into her. She held his gaze, unable to tear her eyes from him even if she wanted. Twin flames ignited in her mind’s eye and reflected back at her in his stare. The tips of the flames stretched gracefully as they danced as if swaying in a gentle breeze. Their orange glow filled her soul with warmth. A soft deep tone emerged from the flames as they spoke and repeated through her mind.
Anam Cara.
Arella’s heart raced and her head began to spin. Every part of him seemed to caress against her. Into her. Through her. She felt comfort and distress combine and flush through her. There was no space he left uninvaded as he infiltrated her being. A tide of giddiness erupted through her as she heard Jacques and Lenny approach the table with a burst of chatter. She broke the stare, ripping her eyes from Regan and pushing the flames and the unfamiliar words to the back of her mind as they still drifted through her.
Anam Cara.
Arella’s eyes dropped to the table while she steadied her heart. Lenny’s voice felt like an echo next to her. Her eyes came to rest on her near empty coffee mug. She studied the milky brown liquid while she tried to gather her thoughts, not daring to look back at him.
Anam Cara.
‘Button? Are you okay?’ Jacques’ voice finally boomed into her awareness.
She lifted her face, startled. Their conversation was stilted, and they were all staring at her. Jacques reached for her hand. She gave a brittle smile when she noticed the concern in his eyes.
‘Did you sleep okay?’ he said, giving her a squeeze.
Arella nodded. ‘I did, thanks,’ she mumbled.
Her eyes darted to Regan. She looked away just as fast, but not before catching the raw kindle simmering in his eyes as he watched her intently.
Get with it, Arella, she chastised herself.
Anam Cara.
She cleared her throat and steeled herself against his magic. She knew she couldn’t afford any distractions if she was going to get out of this situation alive. And whatever it was he just tried on her, she knew it was all part of his grand plan, which reminded her of their deal the night before.
Jacques and Lenny chatted about the complimentary hotel toiletries in their bathroom while Arella drained the rest of her coffee. She set the mug on the table and looked at Regan. This time a cold resolve frosted her eyes.
‘So, why are you here, Mr Knowles?’
Jacques and Lenny stopped talking and looked at Regan.
Silence answered her.
‘C’mon … surely you’ve had plenty of time to think this one up.’
‘I didn’t need plenty of time.’
‘So?’
‘So, the reason I am here sitting across from you now is very different to how I came to be at your house the same night as Zane Crais. My family has been searching for the Serenity Seed since I can
remember. I was raised around tall tales of a time when our coven would be more powerful than we dreamed possible; a time when our serpent god, Apepsis would incarnate the earth with his will and we would be by his side. At least, I thought they were tall tales.’ He paused and smiled ruefully while combing thick fingers through his hair. ‘My uncle Vincent awaits in Dubai until he can return to Australia. My cousin Dorian and I have been running the family business until such time … it started when Zane Crais shot Dorian in search of the seed. They were looking for a way to get to me. Alexander Crais had a vision from Apepsis; they thought I had the seed.’
‘But you don’t?’ Lenny said, shrinking back when Regan glared at him.
‘Well if I did, do you really think I’d sitting here?’ He looked back at Arella. ‘I don’t have the seed, but apparently, you do.’
Arella’s eyes widened. ‘I told you, I d-’
‘I know you don’t have the seed. I believe you, but Zane Crais thinks you do. And he’s not gonna stop,’ Regan said grimly.
Arella relaxed a little. ‘So, that’s why you came to my house? In search of the seed?’
‘Yes. Alexander Crais is not the only one Apepsis speaks to.’
‘He speaks to you? Oh, my goodness, how freaky! It must be a hideous experience …’ Jacques shuddered visibly with a quiver of his hands.
Regan shook his head. ‘No, he doesn’t speak to me. He speaks with Vincent, that’s how I came to be at your house.’
Arella looked thoughtful. She sensed his inner turmoil surrounding his family, and she felt a begrudging honesty underlying his words.
‘And your magic?’ she said quietly.
‘They say I am the son of Apepsis,’ Regan shrugged, his eyes darkening. ‘They say I am gifted but my magic is a curse. You were right, I am a dark soul. My magic is death.’
Jacques gasped and clutched a hand over Lenny’s.
‘Your father is a serpent god?’
Regan’s eyes glazed over. ‘My mother says my father was gifted like no other. He was able to channel the most of the serpent god’s powers. I have never known my true father; my mother says he is a traitor to our kind and the serpent god.’ He looked Arella straight in the eye and changed the subject. ‘How about you? Where does your magic come from? Angel magic?’
Arella nodded. She noticed no signs of malice in his eyes, but she did see a flash of pain before he blinked it away.
‘Yes, I am a descendant of an Ascended Angel; a race of ancient beings sent to protect the earth against Apep -’ she stammered, realizing she was about to explain aloud that she was born to be Regan’s enemy, that the two of them were raised to destroy the other, not sit across from one another and drink coffee.
Regan chuckled bitterly.
‘I guess we’re at either end of this spectrum. Ironic really …’
‘What are you going to do?’ Jacques said, narrowing his gray eyes next to Regan.
Regan turned to him. ‘I’m going to stop Zane Crais from getting the seed.’
‘And your uncle Vincent and your coven?’ Arella asked.
‘I’m still figuring that one out,’ he muttered, toying with his sunglasses on the table. ‘You say your uncle might know something about the seed. Why?’
‘Let’s just say your serpent god has played a part in my family too,’ Arella reached behind her for her jacket draping her chair. ‘Speaking of which, we should make a move.’
Arella contemplated his words as she followed Regan from the breakfast hall. She knew he struggled with his ancestry in much the same way she had, only his internal conflict carried a persistent feeling of sorrow. She could feel the split in his heart, and when he spoke of his family, his eyes were constantly shadowed with repugnance. Could she trust him?
She frowned and sidled up next to Regan as they hit the icy mountain air and walked to his car.
‘You said your reasons for being here now were very different to when all this started at my house,’ she said.
‘Yes.’
The car unlocked and they swung the doors open. Jacques and Lenny piled into the back seat.
Arella paused to scrutinize him over the car roof. ‘Well?’
Regan stripped off his jacket and tossed it into the car. He placed his dark sunglasses over his eyes and grinned.
‘You want to know why I’m here with you now?’
She smiled sarcastically and looked away from his too-tight black T-shirt clinging to his well-defined arms. ‘Well, I didn’t ask for fun.’
He laughed and drummed his fingers against the car roof.
‘Am I antagonizing you, again?’
The smooth skin on his upper arms flexed and bulged like a bronzed Roman god with each movement. She silently thanked God she had remembered to pack her own sunglasses in her handbag and prayed he hadn’t noticed the heat creeping up her throat. She clenched her jaw.
‘As a matter of fact, yes,’ she muttered.
Regan paused and looked at her. She could feel the intensity of his gaze even through his sunglasses. Even through her own.
‘Good,’ he said.
He disappeared from her view as he slid into the car.
Arella took a few calming breaths and rolled her eyes as she climbed in next to him. He started the engine and reset the GPS before heading out of the hotel carpark.
She sighed in exasperation and threw up her hands. ‘Good? That’s it?’
Regan slowed the car at the end of the driveway to check the roadway was clear. He swung toward her, a soft smile on his lips.
‘You,’ he said.
Her expression puzzled. ‘Me?’
‘You.’
It took a moment for Regan’s words to sink in. When they did she slid her eyes to the window while he pulled the car into the early morning traffic. A light drizzle against the window. The tiny droplets scattered over the glass, pooled together then scattered again; much like her thoughts.
He’s here for me?
Suddenly, Arella’s mind settled and she knew without doubt that her repeated question was answered. He was raised on the blood of the innocent. He was raised to kill people like her. Could she trust him?
It was the one thing among this mess that found clarity in her mind. She could trust him with her life.
Anam Cara.
Still, it didn’t stop the fact he was as antagonizing as hell.
Arella swallowed the lump in her throat as they turned onto an unsealed road. Shrubs brushed against the side of the car while the loose gravel spewed under the tires. Suddenly, she was uncertain about her decision to come visit her uncle. What was I thinking? She glanced ahead into the dense winding road while her heart stuttered. What if their surprise visit went unappreciated? Her uncle did have an unpredictable side. She hadn’t seen Ace since her grandfather’s funeral. Her mother’s father, Glen, had died in his sleep almost three years ago. His death had come unexpectedly, shocking every member of their family. The coroner’s report had stated natural causes as the cause of death. His lungs had simply failed. Arella knew no-one in her family really believed that explanation; her grandfather had been healthy. The family was devastated, especially Ace.
Glen had played a pivotal role in their family. Arella had spent much of her childhood hanging out with him. She enjoyed his company as much as she enjoyed the gifts he had doted upon her. Her grandfather was especially close to his only son, for both had intimately suffered at the hands of the serpent god, and both had survived the ordeal and managed to banish the evil entity from their lives. Arella had suspected those dark days might have played a part in her grandfather’s unexpected death, though she, nor anyone else, could be entirely sure.
Ace had been the one to discover Glen’s lifeless body when he had arrived to visit his father one morning. Her uncle had changed after that. He swore his father was a victim of foul play, that the serpent god had come to reap his revenge upon their betrayal of the darkness. His mind had begun to slowly play tricks on him, and it wasn’
t long until he became inconsolable. He shunned himself from his twin sisters, Millie and Bella, even refusing to see Arella, and Arella doubted he’d ever be okay again. Despite everything she had been through and endured with her uncle, they remained close. He had always been her soft place, her anchor and her light. All his flaws were beauty to Arella, and now she felt as if he were a stranger.
The day after her grandfather’s funeral, Ace had left the city behind to live a life in solitude. Arella had been doubly devastated. She had lost two people she loved within days, and she thought her heart would never mend. She took solace in the fact her uncle was still alive, and she believed he would one day return to her.
Perhaps one day is today, she thought, peering out into the foggy underbrush.
The narrow driveway began to widen. She squirmed in her seat to get a better view as they reached a clearing. Her mouth became dry at the thought of seeing him again, and she knew she couldn’t predict what they would encounter.
The mist curled ahead until separating around a large timber house. Well-oiled timber cladding stretched high to meet a lofty roof, while a wide set of stairs gave way to a generous veranda that wrapped the length of the house and disappeared around the corners. On one side of the veranda twin rocking chairs sat next to a set of French style doors. Between them was a circular glass table laden with green potted plants. A stack of ironbark wood piled high ran along the side of the house.
Regan stopped the car. He leaned over at Arella to get a better view.
‘Looks inviting,’ he grinned.
Jacques shrieked excitedly behind them.
‘Oh, Pookie, look! How quaint and cozy does this house look? I can’t wait to see inside.’ He opened the car door and leaped out.
‘Wait! Jacques!’ Arella yelled, but it was too late. Jacques’ high-pitched scream echoed through the valley before she even had time to open her door.
‘Shit,’ she mumbled, spotting Ace standing at the top of the veranda stairs pointing a rifle at Jacques. She whirled around to Regan and Lenny. ‘Stay here for a minute!’ she urged, then scrambled from the car.
