by S. K. Falls
To be honest, I didn’t mind. Not in the least. I was just happy I didn’t have to pretend that I wasn’t as desperate for his attention, for his company, as I was. I knew mortals would say I was codependent or that I lacked a life of my own, but I couldn’t alter my feelings for him any more than I could change the color of my hair. It was pre-destined, almost a shaping of my genes.
Since Dax hadn’t wanted to take me with him and Oscar to the meeting with the Astaroth (and I wholeheartedly agreed; meeting demonic judges didn’t interest me in the least), he’d left me in charge of Shuck—his Hellhound—and Victorine.
I glanced out the window into the foliage as I drove to see if I could catch a glimpse of Shuck, but he stayed hidden. I knew he’d be keeping pace with me as I drove, just as he’d be following me silently everywhere I went in the next twenty-four hours. Shuck wasn’t like a regular, mortal dog. Not only was he rather antisocial, he also possessed certain scary qualities like iron-strength, huge, leathery wings, and a mouthful of venomous teeth. But he was unfailingly loyal to Dax and Dax’s interests.
I drove past the wrought iron gates at the top of the hill and pulled into the mansion’s enormous driveway. When I got out, the breeze whipped my hair around me. I rubbed my arms in the chilly winter morning. Being so close to Dax all the time, I forgot how cold winter really was when you didn’t have the advantage of searing, demonic heat.
I tipped my head back and looked up at the sparkling windows of the mansion, wondering if Victorine was spying on me. But really, it didn’t matter. This was going to be home for the next twenty-four hours, and I’d better accept Victorine Dubois and her dislike for me if I wanted to get through the day unscathed.
Victorine was honestly a puzzle. She was openly hostile toward me, for reasons I didn’t fully understand. She seemed to think that I’d somehow end up getting killed, and she and her family would have to find another place to call home. What confused me was that she saw that Dax would do anything to protect me. How could she still think that he might kill me? But I’d only drive myself crazy if I spent too much time on these pointless internal arguments. Who could tell where her insecurities came from?
Dax knew it was a challenge for me to be around her for extended periods of time, and had promised me a surprise when he got back. I didn’t even want to know what he’d had to bribe Victorine with for her to agree that I could encroach on her space. At least the mansion was big enough for me to keep to myself.
I winced as I got out my overnight bag and slung it over my shoulder. I’d been working out a lot lately, learning the art of Kendo from my friend James Spellman. He was a firefighter and I’d known him in high school, but we’d grown to be friends after I’d moved back home. My muscles screamed in indignation at the brutal exercise, but that side effect was a small price to pay for the ability to defend myself against demons. I wasn’t there quite yet, but I was counting on developing fighting skills with which any martial arts master would be impressed.
I knocked on the front door and, after a long pause, Victorine answered.
She smiled at me, the kind of smile you reserve for someone you secretly despise but have run into at the post office.
“Welcome, Cara. Please come in.” She stepped aside and I walked past her, silently marveling at her beauty. It hit me every time just how perfect she was; a fifties movie star come to life. Her creamy skin was unmarred and had that same golden hue that Dax’s and Oscar’s did. Her lips were a vivid scarlet, a shade I’d never dare to wear. Today she wore yet another one of her retro dresses, this one white with yellow polka dots and a Peter Pan collar.
I stood awkwardly in the foyer, feeling small and mousy next to her, clutching my bag to me. “Thanks for having me. I’m really sorry to put you out. Dax insisted.”
She closed the door and turned around, that smile fixed on her gorgeous face. “Yes, I know. Come on, I’ll show you to the guest room.”
I had to almost jog to keep up with her as we walked upstairs. I had a sneaking suspicion she kept to her supernatural speed on purpose—so I could see just how slow I was, just how much Dax had to lower himself to my level. My temper flared a bit, but I tamped down on it. It was true; I really was slower. But I knew Dax loved me in spite of that, and really, that was all that mattered. Victorine’s prejudice wasn’t my problem. Right?
Okay, it still stung a little, but I could deal with it. It was only a measly twenty-four hours.
When we got to the third floor, Victorine raced to the end of the hallway and pointed to a big wooden door. Since she didn’t make any move to open it, I moved past her and turned the doorknob. Then I stopped and gaped.
There were flowers everywhere.
Not the kind you got at the grocery store in plastic wrapping, either. These were giant, classy bouquets of monochromatic blooms in understated, elegant vases. Taupe-colored roses bloomed from a square coffee-colored crystal vase. A cut-glass vase on the nightstand showcased delicious-smelling freesia. White tulips sat in a long planter on the floor at the foot of the king-sized bed.
Surprisingly, the scent in the room was just the perfect blend of soothing and inviting, not overpowering at all like you’d expect. Had Dax special-ordered some of the flowers to be de-fragranced? Somehow, everything just turned to magic around him.
The south wall of the bedroom was all floor-to-ceiling windows and overlooked the lush forests and mountains of Eden. The massive bed had been made in off-white linen that looked French and very expensive, and a massive fireplace was going across from it.
“This is so incredibly beautiful. Did he do this all for me?” I turned to the doorway, smiling, but Victorine was gone.
Since it was evident that Victorine wanted to spend as little time with me as possible, I spent the entire morning in my beautiful guest room, enjoying the flowers, the fire, and the view. I had an event to go to that afternoon anyway, a fundraiser for the Eden fire department to which Dax—a longstanding donor to the department—had been invited.
Since it was now my job to attend those human social events that he absolutely detested, I had RSVP’d yes. James had told me he’d be there, too, and I was looking forward to having at least one person to talk to.
I peeked at my cell phone where it lay charging on my nightstand. No messages from Dax yet. I wasn’t exactly worried about him, but not having him near me was like a constant toothache. It was hard not to pick at it and worry. Was Oscar driving safely? What if they got in a wreck? They were incredibly strong, but they drove incredibly fast, too. Was he strong enough to walk away from a major car accident? It seemed like a ridiculous and random thing to worry about, but learning about Dax’s world was like trying to drink the ocean. There was so much to know, so much that was different than what I was used to.
My phone beeped, startling me. As I picked it up, I realized there was another thing I was worried about: Dax being in the presence of the Astaroth. He’d said that things would go smoothly, that he wasn’t worried in the least. Still, the idea of him meeting with the judges of the demon world didn’t sit too well with me. And it didn’t help that they apparently had legions of demonic soldiers who did their bidding.
Just drove into New York. I miss you, my betrothed.
I smiled. Dax’s use of the word might sound melodramatic and strangely old-fashioned to an outsider, but I knew what it meant for him to say it, to acknowledge my importance in his world.
After it sank in where he was, I gasped. Holy hell. He’d taken four hours to get to New York from northern North Carolina. That meant they were driving twice as fast as the speed limit. Again, my worries about him getting into a wreck flared.
Miss you too. Please be safe.
I will. Please do the same for me. This distance is intolerable.
I smiled and considered blowing a kiss to my phone, but that was just too dorky, even for me. I settled for touching the bracelet Dax had given me when he’d first openly professed his love for me. It was beautiful, an ancient f
amily heirloom passed down through the generations. Every time I saw it glittering on my wrist, I was reminded of how much this perfect creature cherished me.
My cell phone chimed, reminding me that it was time to leave for the fundraiser. I smoothed down my sweater and checked my hair in the giant mirror in my room one last time. It hung in a half-frizzy, half-limp hunk halfway down my back, the ends curling from the pervasive, year-round humidity in North Carolina. Sighing, I picked up my car keys and made my way out.
I didn’t bother saying goodbye to Victorine; she obviously didn’t want to be reminded that I was here in her home. I wondered if she’d ever come to accept me. If there was one thing of which I was sure, it was that I was here—in Dax’s life, and by extension, in hers—to stay.
I drove to Buckley Meeting Hall, which was where anything of import took place in Eden—wedding receptions, the annual “Christmas in July” festival, fundraisers, kids’ birthday parties—and got out, umbrella at the ready. Menacing gray clouds were moving in, and I wanted to be prepared. It felt like my time back home in Eden had been one almost-continuous rain shower with bits of sunshine here and there.
I walked into the large hall with its vinyl flooring and fluorescent lighting and immediately swept the room with my gaze. People milled about, chatting with the ease of small town folk who already knew each other better than some families did.
Someone had gone all out decorating this place. A giant firefighter-themed banner hung between the two pillars at the entrance, and balloons with pictures of fire hydrants and cartoon firemen floated near the ceiling. It looked more like a little boy’s birthday party than a fundraising event.
Irma’s diner had provided the refreshments and young waiters and waitresses manned two long card tables, handing out punch and plates of hors d’oeuvres. I was picking up a cup of Sprite when someone put their hands over my eyes from behind me. The hands were big, and compared to Dax’s, almost cold. I smiled.
“James?”
With a groan, he took his hands off. “How do you do that?”
I laughed and shrugged. “I know the smell of your laundry detergent.”
“Ah ha.” There was a wicked glint in his eye. “So you know my scent, do you?”
I rolled my eyes. James was aware of Dax’s and my relationship, but it didn’t stop him from trying to lure me away from my “complicated relationship” with Dax, though he didn’t know exactly what that entailed.
“This is nice.” I pointed to the fireman décor in a weak attempt to change the subject.
James looked at the wall, where someone had taped up cardboard cutouts shaped like firemen’s hats, with each of the firefighters’ names. He made a face and leaned in to whisper, “It’s completely tacky, but the chief’s wife did it, so we’re all pretending we like it. Check these out.” He pointed to the card tables, which I now noticed were littered with red fire hydrant-shaped confetti.
I suppressed a smile and took a sip of my drink.
“There you are.”
I turned at the sultry female voice and found myself staring at Sheila Lawton’s cleavage.
She was dressed in a scandalous—for Eden—low-cut sparkly cocktail dress that stopped about three inches above her knees. Her slender feet were clad in suede pumps that were at least five inches high, and her pale blonde hair was up in a sophisticated chignon.
I smiled at her, but her blue eyes bypassed me completely and went to James. She took him in in his fireman’s uniform, her smile widening as she inserted herself neatly between the two of us. I stepped aside, trying not to flash back to high school, when she’d refused to acknowledge my existence because I wasn’t cool enough.
James smiled, his expression ever friendly. “Hey, Sheila! You look nice.”
She smoothed down her hair as her eyes darted to me, her smile triumphant now. Looking back at James, she said, “Why, thank you. I’m happy you think so. That uniform fits you good, too.”
“Thanks.” James looked toward the room distractedly. “Is your daddy here?”
Sheila’s face fell. “Yes. He’s over by the dining table, talking to someone.”
“Be right back. The chief said I should get him the moment he walked in the door.” He put a hand on my arm. “I’ll catch up with y’all in a minute, okay?”
I smiled. “Sure.”
Sheila turned to me, finally, and I tried not to cringe at the awkwardness in the air. “And what are you doing here?”
Pretending to not notice the contempt in her voice, I said, “My boss is a big donor.”
Sheila smiled. “So this is work related?”
I nodded.
Her bony shoulders relaxed the slightest bit. “Well, I always come to all of James’s events. The poor baby hates when I miss them.”
“I thought you just accompanied your dad to these things. He has to go because he’s the mayor, right?” The moment I said it, I realized Sheila would take it as a challenge, as if I didn’t believe that James would want her here.
I wasn’t wrong. Her shoulders were tense again, her eyes flashing like blue fire. “Yes, but James likes me to come anyway. We’re very close. In fact, I better go see what the boys are talking about.” She swished by me, leaving a heavy trail of jasmine perfume in her wake.
I took another sip of my Sprite, wincing at my own stupidity. This was just great. I’d been here about five minutes and already I’d made an enemy.
James came sauntering back to me about thirty minutes later, when I was talking to the treasurer of the fire department charity fund—a big, hulking firefighter with a bulbous nose and thick black hair. In the space of our five-minute conversation, he’d made about a thousand innuendos, all of which I pretended not to notice. When James appeared at my elbow and slung an arm around me, the guy, who hadn’t told me his name, melted away.
James chuckled. “Did he try to get you to sleep with him yet?”
I snorted and stepped out casually from under his arm. “Almost. I think we were headed in that general direction. So. How was the chat with Sheila Lawton and her dad?”
“Good, good.” He itched his jaw and turned bright red.
“What?”
“I made the mistake of asking her where she was headed after this. You know, because of the way she was dressed.”
I almost choked on my Sprite. “You didn’t. What did she say?”
“She got pretty dang mad.” He cringed. “Ah, well. Sheila’ll come around. It seems I’m always putting my foot in my mouth around her.”
“I know the feeling,” I muttered.
Just then, a woman in her fifties at the front of the room tapped an iced tea glass with her spoon. “Lunch!”
Lunch turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant affair because I happened to be seated between James and the fire chief, Reginald “Just call me Reggie” Roth. Reggie was an easygoing man in his fifties—it was his wife who’d tapped the glass to announce lunch. He asked insightful questions and seemed to genuinely care about my answers.
“So, tell me, what’s it like working for the mysterious Mr. Dax Allard?”
I swallowed a piece of chicken cacciatore that seemed to have lodged in my throat. “Mysterious? Why do you say that?”
“Well, he’s just been so generous to us this past year. But in spite of I-don’t-know-how-many phone calls and letters, we don’t even know what the man looks like. The boys told me he came to the fire station the other day, but of course I missed it. It was my day off. I’m just so danged curious. What’s he like?” He took another bite of his steak.
I delayed by sipping on my water. What could I say? Somehow I thought telling him that Dax was the most beautiful person—and I didn’t mean his insane good looks—I’d ever met, or that I was so in love with him, there wasn’t even a word for the way I felt, would sound really weird. So instead I settled for a lukewarm response. “He’s great. I like working there. They keep me busy.”
Reggie seemed satisfied enough with my response
, even though I felt a stab of guilt at having reduced Dax to nothing more than a boss. But Reggie didn’t seem to notice anything amiss and went on to speak about other things.
After I was done with my meal, I sat picking at my chocolate cake and chatting with James. Occasionally I’d look across the table and see Sheila spearing me with hostile gazes. I knew she wanted to sit in my spot, and I wished I could tell her that the seating arrangement hadn’t been under my control. It seemed she thought my sole purpose in life was getting between her and James.
James meanwhile was completely oblivious to the silent conversation going on between the two of us women. He was in the process of telling me a story about the time they’d had to rescue a dog from inside a hole because it refused to let go of the gigantic stick it had in its mouth when someone tapped him on the shoulder.
I looked up to see a man in a medal-bedecked military uniform, his face all hard angles and planes. His eyes were a steely gray that looked like they’d seen more than their share of violence and war. James immediately leaped to his feet.
“Captain Rubens,” he said. “How can I help you, sir?”
“May I have a word with you? In private?” The man glanced around the table at all of us unapologetically.
“Of course.” James turned to me. “I’ll be right back.”
I nodded and watched as the men walked to the deserted far corner of the hall. Captain Rubens was much shorter than James, the sort of guy who spent half the day at the gym bench pressing twenty times his body weight. Squat but densely packed with muscles, it was clear from the way he gestured and spoke that he was used to giving orders. His movements were quick and precise, his hands slicing through the air. James nodded every now and then, but he didn’t speak.
