East of Ecstasy (Hearts of the Anemo)

by Laura Kaye

  Oh my God. Devlin’s right.

  Suddenly, her life looked totally different, as if she’d been wearing glasses with the wrong prescription all this time. “Um.” She pressed her hands to her face and closed her eyes. “I think it actually has.” She’d just never thought to connect the strange stuff that happened when she painted to these other experiences. But, now, because of Devlin, it was as though someone had shone a light on her life. “It’s all true,” she said. “Everything you’ve told me.”

  Her gaze cut to Devlin, watching her with guarded interest. “Yes.”

  These revelations were more than enough to take in without adding her attraction to him into the mix, so Anna turned away and slowly paced to the other side of the room. As she walked and struggled to make sense of everything she’d learned, she studied the paintings they’d laid out, almost feeling as though she was looking at them for the first time.

  When she got to the last one, she turned again, her gaze snagging on the old clock on the wall. It was after noon. Dad! “Oh my God. I have to go,” she said. She’d missed her father’s usual lunchtime. He was probably flipping out by now. “Way to go, Anna,” she muttered, darting across the room.

  Devlin stepped in front of her, eyebrow raised and expression full of suspicion. When Anna tried to step around him, he shifted, blocking her way. “We’re not done here, Anna.”

  Guilt for forgetting about her father and how overwhelmed she felt combined to make her impatient, agitated. “Maybe you aren’t, but I am. I have to go.”

  “No,” he said.

  Anna scoffed. “Look, you might be a god, but I answer to a higher power—my father.” Something dark flickered within Devlin’s gaze, but Anna pushed on. “He’s sick and needs my help, and I’ve totally lost track of time with…all this,” she said, waving her hands. When he still didn’t move, she planted her hands on her hips. “So, what’s the plan here? Just keep me locked up until I’m not useful to you anymore?”

  She was being a smart-ass, but her stomach flip-flopped at the possibility. Because she wouldn’t be able do anything to stop that, would she?

  His gaze narrowed, his cheeks colored with emotion, and the air felt almost electrified between them. For the space of a breath, Anna thought he was going to explode. “Sick how?” he asked, restrained anger making his voice tight.

  “He has Alzheimer’s.” Devlin frowned as though he didn’t understand. “Dementia?” she asked.

  With a nod, Devlin scrubbed his hand over his face. “You are his caregiver.”

  “Yes,” Anna said, crossing her arms. “Now do you see? I have to go to him.”

  A series of emotions Anna couldn’t read passed over Devlin’s face. “Yes,” he finally said.

  Relief nearly made her sag. “Thank you,” she said, stepping around him. He didn’t block her this time, allowing the fight to drain out of her. “I’ll come back.” She stopped in the doorway and looked over her shoulder.

  Devlin was right there.

  “I’m coming with you,” he said before she could even ask.

  “What?”

  “I’m—”

  She braced her hands against his chest, refusing to care or question why he flinched as he’d done every other time she’d touched him. “You can’t come with me.”

  “You can’t stop me.”

  Anna sputtered. “Devlin, my father is out of his mind, literally. And all kinds of things set him off—”

  “Is he violent with you?” he asked, a storm rolling in behind his black eyes.

  “No. Not at all,” she said, though sometimes he got very angry, and it broke her heart because the Garrett Fallston she’d known all her life had never even raised his voice. “He gets very upset when anything out of the normal happens. He’s all about routines now, and I’ve missed his lunch. So he’s already going to be in a bad place when I get home without bringing a stranger along for the ride.” Let alone a man. Anna didn’t know why, but the dementia had made her father suspicious of and combative with most men.

  “I understand,” he said, “but it doesn’t change that I can’t leave you. Not until I know more about these paintings.”

  Anna’s brain got stuck on the spin cycle as it became clear they were just going to go round and round until she was even more late getting home. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter what I say,” she said. She spun on her heel, grabbed her belongings, and marched out to her Jeep.

  Devlin was leaning against her car, elbows braced on the hood as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Anna nearly screamed. “Holy shit,” she said, pressing her hand to her heart. “That’s not cool.”

  Apparently untroubled by her reaction, he raised his hand and held his thumb and forefinger just millimeters apart. “It’s a little cool.”

  “Oh, so Mr. Tall, Dark, and Angsty has a sense of humor?”

  “On rare occasion.”

  So now he wants to be charming. Though, as she recalled his concern and the way he’d touched her face and hair, she knew it wasn’t the first time he’d charmed her. Rolling her eyes, Anna stepped to the Jeep’s door. “You riding with me or using your invisibility cloak?”

  He frowned. “Invisi—”

  “Just get in.” Not waiting for his reply, she hopped into the seat and closed her door.

  “Automobiles have always been one of my favorite human inventions,” he said from the seat next to her.

  Nearly jumping out of her skin, Anna gripped the steering wheel and forced a deep breath. “I’m surprised you don’t just flash yourself to my house,” she muttered.

  He crossed his arms over that broad chest. “I’d rather stay with you.”

  The words set off a tingling inside her belly that Anna didn’t let herself consider too closely. She started the engine, backed out of her spot, and gripped the steering wheel as if she were holding onto reality itself. As she turned onto the road in front of her studio, the silence filling the Jeep between them felt more and more awkward until Anna couldn’t stand it anymore. “Do you have a favorite?” she managed, scrambling for a topic and feeling ridiculous.

  “Favorite?”

  She threw a sideways glance at him…and holy wow did he look good sitting there, one arm’s bicep bunched from the way he held onto the ceiling strap, his long legs parted, his other big hand lying on the muscular bulk of his thigh. “Car.”

  “Hmm.” He gazed out the window at the passing scenery. “The faster they go the more I like them,” he said, almost reluctantly. “Bugattis, Koenigseggs, McLarens.”

  “I’ve never heard of any of those.” Though she loved the way the foreign-sounding words rolled off his tongue, and the hint of pleasure in his tone.

  “European models,” he said.

  “Do you get to drive a lot?” she asked.

  Just when she thought he wasn’t going to respond, he said, “No. Not as much as I’d like.”

  Michael would know what to say right now. The thought came out of nowhere, but she immediately knew it was true. Her brother had loved fast cars, too. A guy thing, she guessed. Thinking of her brother gave her an idea… “If you like speed, do you like motorcycles, too?”

  His gaze cut back to her. “Yes. Why?”

  “I have one.” She shrugged, and for a long moment the thump-thump of the windshield wipers was the only sound filling the Jeep’s cab. Not that she rode the bike enough to justify keeping it, but she couldn’t imagine getting rid of it, either. “It’s a Daytona 1200,” she said, suddenly hearing her brother’s excited rambling off of the bike’s specs the day he’d bought it. Just six months before he’d died.

  Devlin shifted. “That’s a damn fast bike.”

  Glancing at him again, she smiled. Eyes wide, face relaxed, he wore an expression that slipped past interested to almost eager. God, it transformed his entire face. And for some reason filled Anna’s belly with giddiness. “What is it with boys and their toys?” She winked. “Yes, it’s very fast. I’ve ne
ver pushed it as far as it can go, but my brother took it to a racetrack a few times and said he got it up to a hundred and fifty, easy.” Just the thought of riding the Daytona that fast made her stomach flip. “You could ride it sometime, if you want.”

  “Yeah?”

  She smiled at his obvious interest. “Sure.”

  He nodded. “You have a brother?”

  The troubled tone was so different from the enthusiasm of a moment before that it drew Anna’s gaze again. The dark shadows and hard angles had returned to Devlin’s face. Damn, it was hard to keep up with him. “Had,” she said, trying to puzzle out the fast shifts of the god’s moods. “Michael died when I was fourteen. Not on the bike. He was changing a flat tire on his car on the side of the road and a guy in a pickup hit him.” Anna clamped down on the grief that threatened to well up whenever she talked about what had happened. But the senselessness and wastefulness of Michael’s death punched her in the gut every time, and the passage of time never seemed to make a difference.

  “I’m sorry,” he said in a voice so low she wondered if she’d imagined it. For the rest of the trip, Devlin’s gaze remained locked to the window, as if the passing fields and farmhouses were completely enthralling.

  Anna didn’t push the conversation again until she turned onto her street. “We need to talk about what’s going to happen when we get inside.”

  “You don’t want him to see me,” Devlin said in a flat tone.

  “I don’t want to upset him,” she replied.

  “I won’t show myself, then.”

  “What? Like, you’ll stay invisible but you’ll still be there?” Devlin nodded, and Anna shivered. “That’s…just…that’s weird. I’ll spend every second looking over my shoulder and wondering where you are.” She blew out a long breath as she turned into the driveway and pulled all the way in. “Is it really necessary for you to hang out here? I promise I’ll come back to the studio. And now you know where I live so you can find me one way or the other.”

  Devlin’s gaze narrowed. “I need answers, Anna. And I don’t have much time.”

  Their stares locked for a long moment, and Anna scrambled to think of a solution that would satisfy her stubborn god and not agitate her father. Well, not her stubborn god. Whatever. Maybe she could sneak him in the back door and hide him? Maybe she’d just have to accept him being there but not visible? If he didn’t have much time, how long would it be, anyway?

  Suddenly, Devlin’s gaze shifted to a point over her shoulder. “Who is that?” he asked in a low voice.

  Following his gaze, Anna looked out the driver’s-side window to find her dad’s home health aide standing on the back porch, hands braced on the railing, watching them and presumably waiting for them to get out of the car. “Oh, hell,” she said, dreading finding out how Evan had ended up here. He wasn’t supposed to work today. She turned back to Devlin. “Do you think he saw you?”

  “Yes,” he said, eyeballing Evan.

  Anna placed a hand on his arm, ignoring the way his muscles tensed beneath the worn leather. “That’s Evan. He’s my dad’s full-time caregiver and my friend, and he’s a good guy. But now that he’s seen you, we need a story. Um… Ah, I know. You’re an old college friend. We studied art together at the Pennsylvania School of the Arts. You are definitely not a god. Got that?”

  He nodded, though he hadn’t taken his gaze from Evan.

  “Devlin, look at me,” she said, echoing his command from earlier. “He’s a friend.”

  A flash of light from behind his eyes. “Got it.”

  “Come on.” Wondering how else this day could get derailed, Anna pushed out of the car. “Hey,” she said, calling up to Evan. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “It’s okay now,” Evan said, his gaze flickering from Anna to Devlin as he came around the front of the Jeep.

  Which meant it hadn’t been okay before. Thank God for Evan. With his bald head and light-brown skin, he was the first caregiver her father had fully accepted. For the past four years, Evan had worked for them on a full-time basis as a home health aide, but they’d become more than just employer-employee. Evan had become a friend and confidant—really, Anna’s only friend since she was self-employed and otherwise just took care of her dad. She truly didn’t know what she’d do without Evan. Anna sighed as she made her way up the steps and onto the small back porch, Devlin right behind her. “Devlin, this is Evan Williams. Evan, this is Devlin—” And…she didn’t know his last name. Shit. Shit shit shit.

  “Devlin Eston,” he said without missing a beat.

  Evan extended his hand and smiled. “Hi, Devlin.” After a split second of hesitation that had Anna nearly holding her breath, Devlin returned the shake.

  “How do you know each other?” Evan asked politely.

  “We both went to Penn School of the Arts,” Devlin said. Gratitude filled Anna at the easy and completely believable way he’d spoken.

  “So you’re an artist?” Evan asked.

  “How’s Dad?” Anna interrupted, not wanting Devlin to get tripped up in details. “How did you get sucked in over here?”

  “I was on my way home and dropped off a prescription I forgot to pick up yesterday, saw your Jeep wasn’t here, and heard Garrett calling for Tessa over and over. Figured you got held up somewhere so I stayed.”

  Anna cringed. “Thank God you did, Evan, but I’m really sorry. I lost track of time.” Just one more reason why she loved the fact that Evan lived only two blocks away.

  “It was no problem, really.”

  She unleashed a long breath, letting go of some of the stress that hadn’t settled into her muscles. “How is he now?”

  “Better. Not as agitated as he was. He’ll be fine.” Evan gave her arm a pat. “But now that you’re here, I’m gonna run. Jake’s probably waiting for me.”

  She smiled at the mention of Evan’s longtime partner. Jake was as awesome as Evan and they were great together. “Tell him I said hi and sorry I held you up.”

  Evan gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Will do. See you tomorrow.”

  Nodding, she stepped to the door. She gave Evan a last wave as he hit the driveway, then she cut her gaze to Devlin, who’d been quietly watching her exchange with Evan. “Come on in,” she said. “Just please wait in the kitchen while I check on my dad.”

  Devlin nodded, and Anna stepped inside, ditched her belongings on the counter, and beelined for the living room. Her father’s expression went from surprised to relieved to angry when she walked through the doorway. “Hi, Dad,” she said, immediately running her gaze over him to make sure he was okay. He was, at least physically.

  “Where the hell have you been?” He sat forward in his chair and gripped the plush armrests.

  She knelt beside his recliner and cupped his big hand in hers. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time. Can I do anything for you now? Can I get you anything?”

  “No. Evan made a mess of my lunch but I ate enough, I guess.” His gaze ran over her face.

  “Can I make you some coffee?” she asked, rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand.

  He harrumphed and settled back in his chair. “No, but I don’t want you going anywhere else today, Tess. I don’t like it.”

  Hard to hide that she’d gone out if she wasn’t here in time to keep him on his schedule. Way to go, Anna. “Okay,” she said with a smile.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said, but the relief was evident in how his brow relaxed and his muscles eased beneath her touch. “It’s chilly,” he said.

  Anna tugged the heavy knit blanket she loved from the arm of the couch and spread it over him. “Here. How’s that?”

  “Better,” he said as he kicked out the leg rest. Experience told her he’d be asleep in less than ten minutes, though a glance at the clock revealed she’d held up his daily nap by more than an hour.

  “Good,” she said, glad he didn’t seem intent on holding a grudge. All thanks to Evan’s saving the day before things got too bad, no doubt. She crossed
to the kitchen.

  “I don’t like when you’re gone, Tessa,” he said in a low rumble that made her ache.

  I miss her, too, Dad. Hand on the arch between the living room and kitchen, Anna looked over her shoulder. “I know, Dad. But I’m here now.” When he didn’t pull his gaze from the football game playing on the television, she left the room.

  “Sorry ’bout that,” she whispered to Devlin when she returned to the kitchen. He stood by the table, out of the line of sight from the living room. His gaze lit on her and something in his face gentled. Devlin looked like every cautionary tale a father might’ve told a daughter. Black hair, black eyes, black leather. Pure tortured bad boy from the longish hair to the sneak peek of black ink she’d seen on his wrist as they’d laid out her paintings to the ass-kicking boots he wore. Yet that gentling of his expression reached right into her chest and tugged at her heart. She walked to the counter and refolded a towel that was already folded. What the heck was she supposed to do with him here? “Um, would you like something to eat or drink? Some coffee? Oh.” Anna froze with her hand on the handle of the coffeepot. “Do you eat and drink?” she whispered.

  Devlin smirked. “I do.” The humor dropped off his face. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

  She might’ve thrown some sarcasm back at him if two things hadn’t happened—if his expression hadn’t gone serious, revealing his sincerity, and if his stomach hadn’t growled. Loudly.

  It was the best release of tension ever. Anna chuckled. “I think your stomach just answered for you,” she said quietly, glad for once that her dad had the television on so loud. Devlin’s gaze narrowed, but when she told him to sit down at the table, amazingly, he listened. She opened the fridge and surveyed her options. “Do you like—”