Chapter 6
Splashes of sherbet orange rolled against a tide of indigo as the sun made its way over the horizon line, bursting in all its brilliance and beginning a new day. Light filtered in through the thin curtains of Arianna’s cabin. Moments earlier, she’d stirred beneath the down comforter she’d been lent by Briathos. Her eyelids had batted, the world as fuzzy as her thoughts. She’d instinctively patted beside her before she’d realized Desmond was gone. Her early-morning mind, still vulnerable from the onslaught of a nightmare, had neglected to remind her heart that he’d left a day earlier. Panic-stricken, she’d sat up with a start, her eyes combing the room, searching for the man who’d slept alongside her for the last five months. But he hadn’t been there, still wasn’t there, and she did not know when he’d return. He’d said he’d be back soon. But who knew how long he would investigate his father’s death? An old and esteemed warlock had been killed, and not just any old, esteemed warlock. Agnon, once the most powerful warlock to walk the earth, had fallen. His alleged death had come as a surprise, a surprise that had not set well with Desmond, to say the least. It had not set well with her either. In fact, she feared a nefarious plan was in place, one that banked on Desmond rushing to his father’s lair. She feared he was speeding headlong into danger.
Worry grated her brain like a fine needle scraping tender flesh. She tore the covers from her body and swung her legs over the side of the bed, intent upon acting rather than idly cooling her heels in bed. She needed to be up and moving, away from any reminder of his absence.
She padded across cold, bare floors to a bathroom that made the tiny one she’d shared with her mother in their trailer seem large and lavish by comparison. She brushed her teeth at the undersized sink then took a quick shower in the stand-up stall. A narrow nozzle with even narrower jets drizzled a puny stream of lukewarm water barely forceful enough to clear her hair of shampoo and conditioner. She swore under her breath when she’d stepped out and found a single white towel that looked more befitting a toddler hanging on a simple wooden rod. But it did not feel appropriate to grumble about her accommodations, even if she’d only grumbled to herself. After all, she’d been the one who’d chosen to stay in a cabin rather than the grand log house, opting for privacy with Desmond over comfort. Now he was gone, and had taken with him any form of comfort she could have felt regardless of her lodgings.
Refusing to succumb to longing, Arianna quickly dried her body then dressed. She planned to pay a visit to Beth and her brothers before making her way to the main house where Briathos and the elders lived. But after she’d shoved a roomy hooded sweatshirt over her head and twisted her wet hair into a braid, foregoing makeup altogether, a glance out the window made her pulse race.
A large form materialized from fog that clung to low-growing shrubs and vegetation and appeared to be heading in the direction of Briathos’ camp. She moved closer to the window to get a better look and saw a shape looming, evading branches and roots as it slipped between trees toward the grounds.
Alarm stormed every nerve ending of her body as adrenaline flooded her system. Whoever or whatever skirted the woods beyond the cabins was there as an adversary, Arianna was sure of it. Instinct raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck like hackles and her body went on high alert.
She needed to notify the others and decided to sneak out her door as quietly as possible and sprint next door. A last check on the shape confirmed that it was headed for the camp. Only now, she was better able to distinguish characteristics.
After the dirty, dreadlocked fiends that had attacked the Parker compound, Arianna expected nothing more than the vilest drudges her kind had to offer. So when she saw the top of a blonde head, her breathing hitched and her pounding heart went into overdrive.
Partially obscured by leaves and limbs and shrouded in milky vapor, the shape was still a safe distance away. But its pace had hastened, and the nearer it got the more familiar it became.
Trees grew farther apart and undergrowth thinned. Suddenly, the image before her became clearer.
Arianna froze, her mind warring with her heart to be reasonable, that she could not possibly be seeing what she thought she saw.
When finally the shape emerged from the cover of the woods and fog, her heart won out and she realized the shape was Desmond. Arianna could see him in the distance and her galloping heart stumbled.
Bathed in shafts of warm, buttery radiance, his silhouette was haloed ethereally. He’d said he’d be back soon, but she had not dared entertain the notion he’d return just twenty-four hours later. Her mood soared and a broad smile spread across her face. But her smile began to droop when she noticed that attached to the outline of him was another. A tall, statuesque shape walked alongside him, her arm hooked in the crook of his elbow.
Arianna closed her eyes and shook her head to right what had to be a mistaken image produced by her desperate brain. When she opened her eyes and stopped shaking her head, though, the image remained. Nevertheless, an explanation existed and she quickly made her way out the front door of her cabin and across the clearing to meet them.
“Desmond!” she called out to him and sped her pace. She’d expected him to run to meet her, to scoop her in his powerful arms and pull her tight against his hard body. But he did not. He maintained his pace and remained entangled with the stranger. She began to wonder if perhaps he had not heard her. “Desmond!” She shouted his name this time. He responded with a smile that stopped short of his eyes. Her heart dipped lower in her chest, especially since he had yet to release himself from the unfamiliar woman’s grip.
Despite her sinking feeling, she hurried toward him.
He’d reached the clearing, still arm-in-arm with the stranger and slowed to a stop when he saw her. As close as they were, Arianna was able to get a better look at the woman with him. Satiny skin in a deep russet hue was seductively exposed. She wore a pale camisole top in a thin material that showcased the dark nipples of her braless breasts and a skirt that reached the middle of her slender thighs. While its length was modest, the flimsy fabric with which it had been made revealed every curve of her backside, including its seam, and the longest legs Arianna had ever seen. Hair as black and shiny as volcanic glass fell to the small of her back and feline eyes that matched her tresses studied Arianna’s body methodically, unapologetically. Arianna was suddenly aware of the fact that she was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and jeans and that she had not bothered to style her hair or apply makeup. Her gaze fell from the woman self-consciously and, instead, searched Desmond’s face. “Hi,” she said and managed an uncomfortable smile.
She waited for an enthusiastic greeting, but he had yet to utter a word. He examined her from head to toe much like the woman had and she swore she saw his upper lip pull back from his teeth in disgust ever so slightly. The woman on his arm swept her head to one side causing her midnight mane to swish. A spicy aroma filled the air and Arianna unconsciously reached for her damp braid. She fiddled with the elastic and focused on Desmond, who still had not introduced her to his new friend. Perhaps he was so stricken with grief he needed her to bridge the gap, or perhaps he’d witnessed an unspeakable atrocity. Either way, she was here for him and wanted to make that point plain.
“I’m glad you’re back,” Arianna said softly. She glanced fleetingly at the woman then leaned in to wrap her arms around Desmond’s shoulders. “Is your father all right? What happened at his place?” she asked.
“My father is dead,” he replied flatly.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. I am so sorry. Are you okay?” she asked. But he did not answer, just remained stiff. She hugged him tighter and nuzzled his neck and inhaled, expecting to smell his familiar masculine scent. But all she smelled was the overpowering fragrance of the woman beside him. “I missed you,” she breathed. He finally reciprocated, hugging her with his free arm and only released the arm of the stranger when Arianna pressed her body to his.
A low, lusty growl rumbled near the hollo
w behind her earlobe. “And I missed you,” he said. His hands slid to her backside and cupped it tightly. His excitement pressed against her belly and she slid her hands between them, pushing him back.
“Hold on a minute,” she giggled; nervousness and embarrassment uniting and tinting her cheeks a deep scarlet. Desmond’s hands fell slack at his sides. Arianna looked at the woman whose eyes were now boring holes into her skull with the intensity of their stare. “Hi, I’m Arianna,” she said and extended a hand to the woman. She decided to introduce herself rather than wait around for Desmond to do it. He seemed to have left his manners at at his father’s house on the Antarctic Peninsula.
“Hello, Arianna. I am Amitt,” the woman said and examined her hand as if it were coated in waste. She spoke with an exotic inflection that scuttled across Arianna’s skin like the legs of innumerable insects. The words, though benign enough, dripped from her lips like poison. And the look of disdain when she’d offered a hand caused Arianna to retract her own, mirroring the expression. Who was this Amitt? Why had she returned with Desmond? Why hadn’t he sifted to the clearing, to their cabin? Why had he chosen to place himself in the woods first, lurking like a stalker, then parade Amitt out like a trophy? Too many questions bombarded Arianna’s brain causing a quickening like the flutter of a moth’s wings to pulse in her belly.
Amitt watched her, as if reading her thoughts, her full lips pursed and a sharp brow arched. Her gaze was like a hot brand. And she had yet to remove it from Arianna.
Arianna decided to ask for herself and find out who the hell this imposing figure with the perpetual scowl was exactly. After all, she was Arianna Rose, the Sola, not some schoolgirl easily intimidated by a good-looking woman. Okay, so maybe good-looking was a bit of an understatement, she thought. The woman would put any current model to shame – lingerie and otherwise. Nevertheless, she was with Desmond, not this Amitt character in her hooker getup.
“I’m sorry, who the hell are you and why are you draped over my boyfriend like a cheap suit?” she cut to the chase and demanded. She planted her hands on her hips and squared her shoulders, not hiding her annoyance.
Amitt’s pointed brows spiked for the shortest of moments before settling back to their sinister placement. She allowed her full, puckered lips to part and spread slowly into an arcane smile. Amitt’s smug, mysterious smirk inflamed Arianna so much she entertained answering the urge to punch her squarely in her plump mouth.
“Arianna! What is your problem? You’re embarrassing me!” Desmond’s eyes raked over her body as he scolded her. “Amitt is my cousin! Apologize immediately!”
Desmond had never raised his voice at her in the heat of anger before. This was the first time. Arianna felt heat blaze from her chest to her neck ending finally at her cheeks.
“Oh Desmond,” Amitt crooned and turned her swan-like neck so that she faced him. She slipped a long, supple arm under his, wrapping it like a serpent, and pressed her full bosom to his bicep. “Leave the girl alone. Can’t you see you’ve embarrassed her?” Amitt snickered softly and lined the arm she clutched with a long, sharp-looking fingernail. “She’s learned her lesson. I doubt she will say anything more.” Amitt glared at her, still grazing his skin.
A scalding tendril of jealousy sparked through Arianna’s veins as she watched Amitt fondle Desmond’s arm as if she were his lover and Arianna the cousin. She’d also had the audacity to refer to her as the girl. Arianna was not a girl. She was a woman; a powerful woman with supernatural abilities she could hardly harness. Maybe Amitt needed a little example of her power. Perhaps a little cone of fire aimed at her pin-straight hair would do the trick.
The image of Amitt running back and forth with her hair smoking while the kind of music that played in silent films provided a comical soundtrack that made a weak grin appear on her lips. But a quick look at the self-satisfied expression stamped on Amitt’s face stole what little amusement she’d enjoyed.
A shock of anger snapped across her skin like static. “Hey Amitt, first of all, I don’t know who you are or where you’ve come from, but here in America, cousins don’t slide up and down each other like strippers on poles,” she began crossly. “And second, I am not a girl and am not feeling the least bit embarrassed. I say what I want when I want, got it, pumpkin?”
Ruddy bands streaked Desmond’s pale skin and she could see him grinding his teeth, preparing to lash out at her. Her heart slapped against her ribs while her stomach somersaulted queasily. Her cherished relationship with Desmond seemed to be unraveling before her and she was powerless to stop it. She did not know why. She did not know what power this cousin held over him, but guessed it was considerable, for he had changed.
“Arianna, I don’t know what’s gotten in to you,” he boomed and her insides jerked and plummeted simultaneously.
“Darling cousin,” Amitt interceded, still glowering at Arianna. “Don’t you see? She feels threatened by me.” She tipped her chin haughtily and shook her head so that her hair swished again and her breasts jiggled. Pointed nipples poked against the gauzy material of her top and she skimmed Desmond’s arm with them. “She is jealous,” Amitt added for good measure.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Arianna erupted. She eyed Desmond. “Is she for real? Please tell me she is out of her ever-loving mind so I don’t completely lose my shit right here and now!”
She waited for Desmond to defend his oversexed cousin who seemed hell-bent on pursuing an incestuous relationship with him. She was ready, ready to give him a piece of her mind before the turbulent swell of tears began raining down her cheeks. But he did not. His features softened and he tipped his head to one side and frowned. The head-tilt, the gentle nod and small frown, he was looking at her as if she were pathetic, as if she were a mental patient.
“Oh Arianna,” he said with exaggerated patience. “Jealousy is not a becoming trait. And neither is a swear-filled tirade. Both are so...ugly.” He crinkled his nose as if he smelled an offensive odor. “You’re so much better than that.”
Arianna wanted to scream. Every part of her raged at once. How he was behaving, what he was saying, none of it made sense. She felt as if she’d slipped down a rabbit hole and awakened in a crazy-ass fairyland where up was down and down was up, and lovers who left for a day returned transformed. This Desmond who had come back did not seem like her Desmond at all. And Arianna wanted out of her deranged wonderland.
She took a deep breath, a feeble attempt to steady her stormy nerves. “You are talking to me like I’m a mental patient,” she said in a voice far more calm and measured than she felt. “And I don’t like it.”
“I’m sorry, love,” he replied and a faint glimmer of the Desmond who’d left shined through, giving her heart hope. “It has been a crazy twenty-four hours and I have been through a terrible ordeal. Right now I cannot think straight. I am exhausted. Perhaps we could hash this out later after I’ve gotten a few hours of sleep.”
Arianna nodded feebly, barely keeping her tears at bay. He’d said the first sentence that even vaguely resembled the man she loved. “Sure,” she whispered and held out a hand for him to take. In her mind she silently prayed he would take it, that he would free himself from his cousin’s snare; that he would choose her.
When he took a step forward and interlaced his fingers with hers, her breath caught in her chest. He gave her hand a squeeze and she was awash with relief.
She led him to their cabin, leaving Amitt to fold her arms across her chest and scowl.
“What about Amitt?” Desmond asked. “Where will she go?”
His concern for her seemed more reasonable than it had before.
“I’ll see if Beth can put her up in her cabin. She’s alone so it should be fine,” Arianna replied.
“Thank you,” he said genuinely and lightly kneaded the sensitive flesh between her thumb and index finger with his thumb. The subtle gesture breathed up her arm like a warm sigh leaving goose bumps in its wake. A corner of his mouth lifted into a sm
all smile.
“I’m glad you’re back, Desmond,” Arianna couldn’t help but comment. She felt certain he did not understand the way in which her statement had been meant but didn’t care at the moment. He wasn’t acting like a jerk for the time being. Maybe it was just exhaustion that had tried his patience and distorted his personality. Maybe his slinky, slutty-looking cousin was just overly affectionate and harmless. Arianna simply did not know. But she intended to find out the answers to each of her maybes, what-ifs and questions in the coming hours. The time for speculation had ended. She planned to deal with everything, Amitt included, by nightfall.
Chapter 7
Desmond had marched straight to the bathroom and showered as soon as he’d entered the cabin. When he’d finished, he’d collapsed onto the bed. Arianna had hoped to coax some answers from him before he’d fallen asleep, but he’d drifted off not long after his head had barely dented the pillow.
Arianna sat on the edge of the bed beside him, watched the gentle rise and fall of his torso. Everything about him was the same as when he’d left. His fair skin looked like liquid sunshine poured over the powerful slopes of his bare chest and the bulging, never-ending ropes of taut muscle on his arms, yet something seemed different. And while his appearance remained unchanged, his demeanor seemed off. She could not pinpoint exactly what had shifted. He’d claimed it was exhaustion, and she had supplemented that excuse with her own, adding that he had lost his father. And no matter how strained their relationship had been, Agnon was his father, the only living family member Arianna had ever been made aware of. Until now, that is. Now a new relative had materialized from out of nowhere, Amitt.
The Arrival: Arianna Rose, #4 Page 8
