The Masked Maiden: an adult urban fantasy (The Aria Fae Series Book 2)

by H. D. Gordon

  But only as the words came out of my mouth did I wonder if they weren’t partly a lie… And I could see that despite me only having known him for a handful of months, Thomas Reid already knew me enough to hear the uncertainty in my tone as well.

  There was a moment of silence between us, in which I could hear the sound of my soul splintering, and could feel it, too.

  “Merry Christmas, Aria,” was all he said, and then he turned to go.

  As I watched his figure descend out of sight, I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding, and felt no lighter for it. I looked down at the small silver box with the red bow he’d placed in my hands, and for whatever reason, the sharp sting of tears pricked my eyes.

  “Merry Christmas, Thomas,” I whispered, but he was already gone.

  CHAPTER 23

  “Explain to me again who this Caleb Cross is, and why you have to leave to go see him tonight,” Nick said, once again opening my mostly bare refrigerator and snatching up the last apple from the shelf.

  “Uh, no I will not explain it one more time,” I replied, buttoning up the silky black blouse I was wearing and checking myself in the mirror leaning against the wall. Slowly, my wardrobe had expanded in the past few months, and this was the outfit I wore when I needed to look less like a juvenile delinquent and more like a young lady.

  Nick approached me from behind, his proximity making my heart pick up in pace. “I’ve never seen you dressed up before,” he said.

  Our heads turned toward the window, where our sensitive ears alerted us to the arrival of a car outside the building. A second later, my phone buzzed with a message from Caleb.

  I grabbed my jacket. “That’s my ride. Gotta go,” I said.

  Moving in the fluid, supernaturally fast way he had, Nick stepped in front of me and placed his hands on my waist, looking down at me from his taller height. “I’ll be here waiting for when you’re done playing house, waiting for you to come back.”

  There was no way to know if it was due to the grief I’d pulled from Sam’s father, or my own unrest within me, or both, but I narrowed my eyes at Nick Ramhart, feeling red rise in my soul.

  “What makes you so sure I’ll even be coming back?” I snapped. “What makes you so sure I won’t just stay gone?”

  We were no longer talking about the dinner with Caleb, and we both knew it.

  “Because,” Nick said, “you don’t belong in this world, Aria. These people are not our kind, and at some point, they’re going to turn against you, betray you.”

  I turned away from him and threw open my apartment door. A part of me wanted to keep on walking, to not need to respond to these surprisingly hurtful words, to deny the way they rang with a frequency of truth, but the other part was hurting, and would not let it go.

  Turning back to face Nick, I said, “If that turns out to be true, and the people of this world do turn against me, it sounds like they’re a lot more like my kind than you’re giving them credit for.”

  And with that mike-dropping moment, I shut the door and headed out into the cold December air.

  ***

  Caleb Cross waited outside my apartment building, and upon catching sight of me, his handsome face lit up. He was wearing a finely tailored suit, his golden-brown hair quaffed up and glittering with the snowflakes that were catching in it.

  “I swear,” he said, “you get more beautiful every time I see you.”

  I found myself stepping into his arms with an ease that surprised me, my mood lighter just for his presence.

  “Do you always know exactly what to say?” I asked, looking up at him and absorbing some of his happy.

  His vibrant blue eyes sparkled as he placed a small kiss on the tip of my nose and opened the passenger door of his BMW for me. “Only to you, Aria Fae.”

  I climbed inside the car and he shut the door gently behind me, hurrying over to the driver’s side and joining me a moment later.

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to tell myself to relax and enjoy the time with Caleb, but it only took a handful of moments in the silent car for him to pick up on my turmoil.

  I was staring out the window, and his warm hand found mine, his fingers closing gently over my own. “Merry Christmas,” he said, the dimples appearing in his cheeks with his smile.

  “Merry Christmas, Caleb.”

  He looked over at me, met my gaze. “You’re unhappy,” he commented. It was not a question. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. I’m sorry. I can be depressive sometimes.”

  Caleb’s hand tightened a bit on mine, and the compassion that streaked through his aura made one side of my mouth pull up in a half smile. “Never apologize for something like that, beautiful girl,” he said. He grinned. “I’ve got just the cure, anyway, so don’t you worry. We’re gonna take a little detour before we head to my house. If that’s okay with you? I’ve got a surprise.”

  I chewed at my lip, trying to hide the smile that suddenly wanted to appear. “Okay,” I said. “But if you’re taking me somewhere to kill me, you should know I’m more resilient than I look.”

  Caleb’s eyes left the road for a moment and ran over me, making my stomach flip pleasantly. “You look plenty resilient to me,” he replied.

  A handful of moments later, we parked on a street I was sure I’d never visited in Grant City. The area was older and quaint, with fancy streetlights and row homes bursting with character.

  Caleb shut off the ignition and turned to me. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  My eyes narrowed, but the smile was still on my lips. “Why? Are we going on a magical carpet ride?”

  Caleb chuckled. Reaching into his suit pocket, he produced a black eye mask—the kind one wears to keep the light out while sleeping. He laughed outright now at my expression. “Well,” he said, “do you?”

  “You want to blindfold me?”

  Dimples dimpling, he grinned and nodded.

  After a small moment of hesitation, I consented, warning him that my other senses would alert me to any funny business, and earning another chuckle from him. Promising that there would be no such business, Caleb slipped the night mask over my eyes, and the world was plunged into darkness.

  A moment later, the car door was opened, and Caleb took my hand, leading me to wherever he was leading me. As we walked, my mind ran wild with possibilities, and because of my state, they were all unfavorable and outrageous. What if he was taking me to his evil father, or a team of Halfling Werewolves who were angry about Dyson Gracie’s disappearance? Or maybe he was going to sell me into sex slavery, as seemed to be a popular activity in the back streets of Grant City.

  It didn’t turn out to be any of this, of course, and what it did turn out to be made me feel like a major buttwipe for even thinking such things. No matter the shadiness that seemed to surround Caleb Cross, I was certain of the integrity of his character.

  As we walked, the December air cold on my cheeks and knots in my stomach the size of baseballs, I could feel the nervous energy emanating off of him, could hear the snowfall and the quiet stillness of the neighborhood.

  After a block or so, Caleb pulled me to a stop. A small bell chimed as a door was opened, and warmth surrounded me as we stepped inside someplace. With a short sigh, Caleb said, “Okay, you ready?”

  I was practically jumping out of my shoes, my blindness somehow maddening. “Yes,” I answered.

  Gently, Caleb removed the mask from my eyes… and moments later, I felt tears begin to sting them.

  The shop was small and cozy, shelves lining the walls and displays set up esthetically. On these shelves and displays books of all sorts were arranged, the clean smell of paper and bindings filling my nose. The lights were soft, and there were huge armchairs with fluffy pillows placed about, as if inviting visitors to crack open a tome and stay a while. Though the space was not large, the ceiling was high, and from the pipes and light fixtures that run through it, all sorts of literary decorations hung. Ther
e were loose book pages and quotes, dragons and wizard hats.

  It quite literally took my breath away. My eyes darting around like a a child who has found herself in a hidden candy store. To the left was the romance section, the ceiling there hanging with stars and smelling of sweet perfume. Beyond that, were the mysteries, the thrillers, and horror, these sections darker and adorned with chalk footprints upon the floor.

  To the right was a children’s section, always one of my favorites in any library or book store no matter how old I got, because of the way imagination seemed to permeate the area.

  For several seconds, I couldn’t speak, and I found that my hand was clutching at my chest, my eyes burning slightly.

  “Oh, my God,” I said.

  Caleb shifted on his feet, his handsome face inquisitive. “Does that mean I did good?” he asked, his nervousness endearing. “I mean, I know you love to read, and I know the owner of the shop, and I want you to pick out as many books as you want. You can have one of every book here, if you want.”

  My reaction to this surprised not only him, but me as well, though in hindsight, I’m not sure that a more appropriate reaction exists when concerning a bookworm.

  I placed my hands on either side of Caleb’s handsome face and kissed him right on his beautiful lips. As I did so, I felt a tear escape and roll down my cheek. His hands went around my waist, pulling me to him, and the slight scent of his cologne mingled with the intoxicating smell of all the books.

  When we finally separated, we were both short of breath, our auras mingling in a way I’d never experienced before. The whole gesture was more than anything I’d ever experienced before, and for some stupid reason, it made my eyes tear up all the more.

  Caleb brushed away a tear with his thumb, his blue eyes flashing with concern. “These are happy tears, right?”

  I nodded, laughing, and still trying to absorb the shift in my mood, the lightening of my spirits. “Nobody has ever done anything like this for me before,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

  His hands cupped my cheeks, those dimples appearing in his own. “You are so welcome,” he said. Taking my shoulders, he turned me back toward the stacks and handed me an enormous tote bag that was designed like the cover of Where the Wild Things Are. “Now, where do we start?”

  My heart felt as though it was going to flutter right out of my chest. “How long before we need to be at the dinner?” I asked.

  Caleb kissed my nose again, and it occurred to me that if he kept on doing that, I might just fall in love with the boy against my will.

  “We have all the time in the world,” he told me.

  And, man, how I wished that were so.

  CHAPTER 24

  As we approached the Cross Estate, I felt my nerves growing more pronounced. In the back seat of the car were four stacks of books in various tote bags, which Caleb had buckled in, joking about my obsession over not bending up the covers.

  “What if your family doesn’t like me?” I asked.

  Caleb grinned over at me. “How could anyone not like you? But it’s cute that you’re nervous. That doesn’t happen very often with you.”

  “I get nervous,” I said. “I just hide it well.”

  Pulling into the circular drive, Caleb took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Well, don’t worry. There’s going to be so much food on the table, I doubt you’ll even notice the company.”

  I gasped in feigned indignation, but didn’t argue, as I supposed this was a pretty fair observation. A few minutes later, we were walking arm-in-arm through the tall double doors of the main house.

  We were greeted by Chris, Caleb’s older brother—the same old brother I’d healed from a coma nearly four months ago, and whom I hadn’t seen since.

  Christopher Cross was a bit taller than his younger brother, maybe an inch or two more than Caleb’s nearly six feet. His eyes were the same deep blue, his cheek bones slightly more pronounced and his hair kept shorter, but other than that, there was no mistaking the Cross boys as kin.

  Chris’s eyebrow quirked upon seeing me, and I saw that he was not as quick to smile as his little brother.

  “You must be Aria,” he said, and kissed my hand in a way that I found oddly stiff and formal. “It’s a pleasure. My brother hasn’t shut up about you.”

  Before I could respond to this, a woman entered the foyer. She wore a sleek black dress and heels, her blonde hair piled perfectly atop her head, her makeup heavy but tasteful. She smiled as she approached, but my aura-reading abilities showed me that she was as chilly in nature as Caleb’s brother. Her overall put-togetherness also made me feel a little frumpy in my black blouse and high leather boots.

  “Ah,” Chris said, holding a hand out to the blonde. “Come on over, darling. We were just making introductions. This is Caleb’s girlfriend, Aria. Aria, this is my lady, Miss Gail Golden.”

  I searched my memory for a second as I shook Gail’s manicured hand, trying to pinpoint the reason the name sounded familiar to me. Then, it hit me, and I smiled to hide my surprise.

  “Gail Golden,” I said. “The same Gail Golden who writes for the Grant City Gazette?”

  Her pretty face lit up at the recognition, and I knew the answer before it was spoken.

  “The one and only,” Chris said, looking over at her. As he did so, I watched his aura, and could see clearly that Caleb’s brother truly loved his girlfriend.

  My eyes went back to her, trying to discern if she felt the same.

  “Do you read the Gazette, Aria?” she asked.

  I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking that the surprises at Cross Manor never ceased. “Yes, actually. I’ve read pretty much all your work on The Masked Maiden.”

  Silence fell, and I knew they were waiting for an opinion on the pieces, but I thought it wise not to speak one. Luckily, Caleb’s father, Dr. Christopher Cross, joined us in the foyer just then.

  Dr. Cross came right over to me and kissed my hand. “Aria, it’s so good to see you again, dear,” he said.

  My skin crawled where he touched me, and something strange flashed through his aura, but it was gone too fast for me to pinpoint. I forced a smile to my lips as I was led into the dining room.

  As promised, the feast that sat atop the enormous, custom-carved oak table was fit for kings, and despite the interesting company, I heard my stomach calling out like the wild beast that it was.

  Caleb smiled as he pulled out a chair for me, whispering in my ear. “Not so bad, right?”

  I released a small breath, trying not to let my eyes bulge out of my head at the sight of all the food, and by the amused look on Caleb’s face, apparently failing.

  Everyone took spots around the table, with Dr. Cross sitting at the head, and servants appeared to take care of our every need. After about thirty minutes, I thought I might just get through this whole thing unscathed.

  Until Caleb’s brother said, “So, Aria, you said you read all of Gail’s pieces on the Masked Maiden, right? What did you think of them?”

  My stomach twisted, and I took a sip of my water to buy some time. “They were really well written,” I answered.

  “I think they are brilliant,” said Dr. Cross. “People need to be told the truth more often in the news.”

  “What truth is that?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

  “That this Masked Maiden is bad news,” replied Chris. “That people need to understand how dangerous vigilantes are, that Grant City is much worse off for her presence.”

  Dr. Cross nodded. “Precisely,” he agreed, nodding at his eldest. “You’ve done a great service to Grant City by writing those eye-opening pieces, Gail. We owe you a debt for it.”

  I wasn’t fully aware of it, but my hands were clenched into tight fists beneath the table, a bit of heat fighting to fill my cheeks.

  Chris smiled at Gail, and Gail beamed back at the praise. “I think the public opinion is swaying,” he observed. “I think they’re starting to realize we have
a villain on our hands, not a hero. It’s only a matter of time before the police get on board and catch this Masked Maiden. And good riddance.”

  “It’s funny you should say that,” Dr. Cross said, “because I actually spoke with Police Chief Townsend, and he agrees something should be done about the vigilante. Either way, I think you’re right. She’ll be caught or killed soon enough.”

  Beneath the table, Caleb’s hand found mine, and he gave it a light squeeze, speaking up for the first time since the start of this unpleasant conversation. “I think we ought not wish ill on anyone,” he said. “Especially not on Christmas.”

  Underneath the table, his hand gave mine one more squeeze, and the others moved onto different topics. When I was able, I stole a look at Caleb, and my heart dropped a few inches when he winked at me.

  I don’t know when it had happened, but looking at Caleb’s aura now, I was certain that he knew. He knew my secret. He knew I was the Masked Maiden.

  When I looked back across the table, I saw that Dr. Cross was watching me, and more than anything, I wanted to be out of there.

  CHAPTER 25

  It was a true sign of my discomfort that I couldn’t even enjoy the various desserts brought to the table by the servants, hardly tasted the cherry cheesecake and the chocolate soufflé, though I did have to tell myself that I didn’t need seconds of each.

  By the time we were finished with the food, I was ready to take to the rooftops to get home, if that would get me there faster. Somehow sensing this, Caleb made some excuse about my family needing me back. I thanked them for their hospitality, and goodbyes were said.

  As we climbed into his BMW, I felt as though I could actually breathe again, and rested back against the leather seat as though I’d just run a marathon. I supposed I had—a mental marathon, anyway. This was the second dinner in just as many days where the topic had been the dislike and disapproval of the Masked Maiden. Was it possible that public opinion was turning? Was it possible that I was becoming a villain in the eyes of the citizens of Grant City?