by Dena Christy
He did as she asked, and she could not hold back the gasp when she saw the state of his back. The wound was in his back, high and to the left side of his body. If whatever had caused it had been a little lower and over to the right by a few inches, it would surely have pierced his heart. As she moved closer, her heart went out to him at the thought of how much pain he must have been in when whatever caused the wound had been ripped out. Had he torn it out himself?
She couldn’t see how big the wound actually was since a large portion surrounding it was covered with dried blood. What she could see told her that there was no way she could deal with this on her own.
“Gregor, this looks terrible. I need to get you medical attention.” Panic rose inside her. Why had she listened to him when he said he didn’t need a doctor? As soon as she’d seen the blood on the alley wall where he’d been leaning she should have called for help.
He turned his body so he was looking at her and he placed his large hand on hers.
“It will be fine, Elle.” Hearing him say her name sent a jolt through her that had nothing to do with seeing how wounded he was, and everything to do with the attraction that had roared to life when she’d met him. “I’m certain all I need is you.”
His eyes were warm, and he gave her a soft smile, one full of reassurances and her confidence grew. She could do this. He turned back around and she brought the cloth she’d wet in the bathroom up to his back to wipe at the dried blood surrounding the wound. The cloth brushed over it, and to his credit he did not flinch. She was certain he was doing it for her benefit, and she was silently thankful for it. The weirdest feeling of deja vu came over her as the blood slowly disappeared with each wipe of her cloth. She couldn’t shake the feeling she’d done this before, that she’d tended to him like this in a moment different from this one. But she was certain she’d never met him before tonight.
Once the blood was cleared away, she could see the wound was relatively small. Her original assessment had been correct. Something had pierced his flesh and had been ripped out. But that wasn’t the strangest aspect of the wound. It appeared to be older than it should if it had just happened. It was like the edges were knitting themselves together already. Still what did she know about injuries like this, it wasn’t as if she was a doctor.
She set the cloth aside and reached for the first aid kit. As she rummaged inside for an antiseptic ointment and gauze, she longed to ask him what happened. Something told her he would not be forthcoming about it, and she didn’t want to pry. She should just focus on getting him patched up and on his way. Then she could let the memory of him fade away and go about her life much as she had before. The thought of it wasn’t as reassuring as she wanted it to be.
“There,” she said as she smoothed the edges of the last piece of medical tape needed to hold the square of gauze in place. “All patched up. I still think you should see a doctor, but at least the wound is clean now.”
He looked over his shoulder at her again, and her eyes met his. She fell into the gray depths of his eyes, and an image flashed in her mind. One of being folded into his embrace and of him lowering his head to kiss her. It felt so real, almost as if it was a memory and not the fantasy it was supposed to be. Something of what she was thinking must have shown on her face because he turned more fully toward her and his brows pulled together in a frown.
“What is it?” There was that deep rumble of his voice again, and for the first time tonight she realized that it was so familiar to her that it was like she'd heard it many times before, and not just during the few bits of conversation they’d had tonight. But that was impossible. “Elle?”
The sound of her name on his tongue made her ache inside and it loosened her tongue. Despite a part of her mind telling her to shut up, she said what was going on in her head. “It’s the strangest thing. I know it’s not true but I can’t help feeling like I’ve met you someplace before.”
3
Elation shot through Gregor, and he steeled his features so it would not show on his face. She knew him, some part of her buried deep inside her remembered him. He could not let what he was feeling inside to show on his face. While the past might be buried deep inside her somewhere, she was not ready for the truth about all this just yet. He’d lived through it all, and it seemed outlandish to him. What was he supposed to tell her, that yes they had met before, in a time so long ago that it could be measured in centuries? That he’d come through time, encased in stone so he could wake in the time she’d been reborn in?
If he told her all that, she would assume he was mad and how could he blame her for that? This whole night made him feel like he was going crazy. Seeing her standing in front looking so achingly familiar made his heart hurt with longing. He could not tell her this without risking frightening her, so he told her a lie.
“I’m certain we’ve never met. I would remember a woman as beautiful as you.” That part wasn’t a lie. She was beautiful.
A blush crept up her cheeks, and she turned her face away. It was not the first time he’d seen her blushing tonight. Each one of those blushes had the same affect on him. They told him that there was a part of her that was as attracted to him as he was to her. It stirred a masculine need in him to claim her as his.
He longed to pull her into his arms, to hold her again. The memory of her body against him was so distant that he wanted to know if she would feel as good as his memories told him she would. But he had to sustain himself on memories for now.
Although she might feel she knew him, he had to remind himself that he was a perfect stranger to her and that a stranger pulling her into his arms, burying his hands in her thick locks of dark curly hair and crushing his mouth on hers would frighten her. That was the last thing he wanted.
Fate had given him a second chance at finding her, it would not give him a third. The pain of losing her the first time had survived centuries encased in stone, and if he lost her again after only just finding her, it would surely kill him.
“It was silly of me to think we’d met before. But I can’t shake the feeling.” The corner of her mouth pulled up, and she gave him a rueful smile. “And I can’t seem to stop staring.”
She gave a little laugh, and it was like tinkling music to his ears. He clenched his jaw to keep from responding as she turned away to gather up the supplies she had used to help him. She wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stop staring. He’d spent most of the time since she’d found him slumped by the dumpster memorizing every line of her face as if she would disappear in a puff of smoke.
He reached for his shirt, certain she would ask him to leave at any moment. She’d already done more than enough for him, and he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. It would be torture to tear himself away from her when he’d only just found her.
“You can’t wear that. It’s ripped and covered with dried blood.” She reached for the shirt and her hand came into contact with his. A jolt of electricity went through him, and she pulled her hand away with a gasp. She must have felt it too. “I’ll get you something else to put on. I think I might have a t-shirt that will fit you.”
It was with reluctance that he let her out of his sight, and his fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. He wanted to ask her where she would have gotten a shirt big enough to fit him as jealously lanced through him. With ruthless efficiency he pushed it down. Her time before he’d come back into her life was none of his business. He needed to fight the instincts inside him, telling him to take her back to his home and guard her. She was like a precious treasure to him, one the dragon inside insisted needed protecting.
Tonight with her had stirred every primal instinct he had. It reminded him of the first time they’d met, when he’d been in exactly the same situation and she’d given him aid then too. She’d found him in the woods when she’d been gathering medical herbs and he’d taken advantage of her compassion by asking her for help even though his wound was healing when she’d come upon him.
Sitting thro
ugh her tending of his wound tonight had brought it all flooding back, and the line between the past and present had blurred a little for him. He had to remind himself with every brush of her fingers against his skin that she did not know him, that she would not take kindly to it if he had turned and pulled her onto his lap and into his arms. While he remembered the feel of her lips and longed to taste her again, he could not lose sight that this was all bound to be new for her, despite the hazy feeling inside her that they’d met before. If he moved too fast too soon, he was certain she would have him out of her home and her life. And he would not get another chance to come back into it.
There was a lesson in this, and it was that he needed to move slowly with her, much more slowly than he had in the past. He had misread her before, had taken her to his lair and shown her the truth about himself before she was ready to accept it. He’d thought when she’d allowed him to make love to her that first and only time, that she had grown to love him. It was not to be because the truth of what he was had driven her to flee. If not for his reckless need to claim her as his mate quickly, she would not have run from him. As long as he lived, he would never forget what the sight of her broken body, laying at the bottom of that cliff had felt like. He vowed that he would learn the lesson he was supposed to learn from that. Slow would be his new motto.
“Gregor? Are you okay?”
He turned to see her standing in the doorway, with a neatly folded shirt in her hands.
“Yes, I’m fine.” He shoved the past away and focused on the here and now. He’d found her again, and he was not going to lose her this time. She would be his but he needed to have patience.
“I hope this will fit. I use it to sleep in, and I’m usually swimming in it.” She handed him the shirt, and he took it from her and put it on. It was a little tight around the shoulders, but he was not about to complain. Relief went through him knowing that the garment she had given him did not belong to a man in her life. “I’ll just get rid of your other shirt. I’m afraid it is only fit for the trash.”
“I have plenty of shirts and can stand the loss of one.” He let her take his torn and bloodied shirt and he could see the question in her eyes. He knew she wanted to know how he had come to be in her alleyway, wounded and covered with blood. He didn’t know what he could tell her didn’t involve telling her the truth about himself. There was no way that a woman living in this time would believe the man standing in the middle of her living room was a living, breathing dragon.
“What happened to you?” She looked from the bloodied rag in her and to him. “Why would someone do this to you?”
“It doesn’t matter about that.” Now was not the time to tell her about the dragon hunters, or about any of it. But for the life of him he could not think of a plausible lie, so he told her the only thing he could. “The less you know about what happened, the safer you will be.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Her face paled, she straightened up and caution crept back into her face. It was the same look she’d worn when she’d first found him, and he could have kicked himself for putting it back on her face.
“Are you in some kind of trouble? Am I now in danger for helping you?”
“I swear to you that no danger will come to you. The people who did this will not be back and they will never know you helped me.” He took a step back and with a cool calculation that would have been unworthy of him in any other circumstances, he swayed slightly on his feet.
“What are you doing?” She rushed toward him, all caution forgotten in her urgency to help him. She put her hands on either side of his waist and he let her guide him back to her sofa. “You obviously can’t go anywhere right now.”
“I don’t to want to put you to any more trouble, you’ve done so much for me already. I should go.” He made a move as if he was going to get up off the sofa, but she placed a hand on his chest and gave a gentle push. She would not have been able to stop him if this was not what he wanted, but he was exactly where he wanted to be and had no intention of going anywhere just yet.
“I don’t know what I was thinking, acting like it was your fault that someone attacked you. No one deserves to be injured the way you were. I’m just a little out of my depth. My clients come to me with wounds, but they are never physical.”
He’d been curious about her from the moment she’d let him into the building, but he’d been too busy studying her to notice anything about the downstairs of the building other than to know it appeared to be a place of business.
“What is it you do?” He needed to get to know her all over again. While she looked exactly like the woman he’d known so long ago, he needed to remember that she was a product of a different time. He would do it right this time, and to do that he needed to learn more about the person she was now.
She hesitated for a moment. Perhaps she didn’t want him to learn more about her. Were his memories of the past causing him to misread the situation? Perhaps she was only being a Good Samaritan and once she’d helped him, she would send him on his way, never to think of him again.
“I run an occult shop and do readings for select clients.” She looked into his eyes, as if trying to gauge his reaction to what she’d revealed. He saw nothing wrong with what she did since he wasn’t exactly sure what it was.
“What sort of reading?”
“Psychic reading using Tarot cards, mostly.” A defiant look crossed her face as if daring him to mock her for what she’d just said. Contrary to what she thought, he wasn’t at all surprised by her profession. The Elle of the past had been a wise woman, dealing in healing and predicting the future for those villagers who needed guidance. It made sense she would be the modern-day equivalent.
“So you have the sight?” It was on the tip of his tongue to say still, but he kept it out of his words. He’d already committed to the lie they’d never met, so he needed to choose carefully what he revealed to her.
“I don't' have psychic visions if that's what you mean. I have a strong intuition and an ability to read people.” A blush crept up her cheeks. He longed to know what had brought that flush to her skin, so he took hold of her hand and pulled her down to sit on the sofa beside him.
“What is it? You looked like you wanted to say something else.”
“It’s silly.” Her flush deepened and there was no way he would let her keep whatever secret was inside her. Her bashfulness delighted him and made the desire lurking beneath the surface of his skin flare to life.
“Tell me.” He gave her hand a squeeze of encouragement.
“You’ll think it’s weird, but I think I had a premonition about meeting you. When I was asleep tonight, I dreamed about you.”
The corner of his mouth pulled up. “You dreamed of me?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Not like that. I had a dream I was walking in the woods when I came upon an injured man who looked like you. I’ve never had a dream that vivid before. It felt like it was a long time in the past. Anyway, it was a little strange.” She tugged her hand from his and stood up. “It will be morning soon, and I’m sure after what you’ve gone through tonight you need to rest for a while. I’ll go make up the guest room for you. You can sleep here for what is left of the night before you go on your way.”
She walked out of the living room and as he watched her retreating, relief went through him. Although she didn’t realize it, what she had described was no dream. It was a memory of the first time they’d met, which meant buried deep in a part of her was the memory of their time together in the past. He hoped it meant that this time around she would draw upon those hidden feelings and grow to trust him again.
The cellphone Rickman had given him vibrated in his pocket, and he quickly pulled it out. He swiped his thumb across the screen as Rickman had taught him and saw that his minion had sent him a message.
Where the fuck are you?
It took a moment to remember how to compose a reply. He cast a quick glance in the direction that Elle had go
ne. She would be back at any moment so he had to be quick.
I have met my destiny. Will contact later.
Elle slowly eased shut the door of her guest room and leaned against it. The stranger, Gregor, was still sleeping, and she debated on whether she should let him continue. It was now time to open her shop, and while she usually looked forward to starting her day and interacting with the people who came in, today was different.
She didn’t want to tear herself away from him. The sense of knowing him grew stronger with each second he was in her apartment, and while she was certain they’d never met before, hearing his name when he’d introduced himself had elicited no surprise from her. It was all rather strange since guessing someone’s name was not a talent she had.
Mixed up with her feeling of knowing him was an attraction that slammed through her when he’d removed his shirt so she could tend to his wound. The breadth of his shoulders, the firm muscles of his chest and abdomen had been magnificently displayed without his shirt.
The wound had been as minor as he claimed, which made no sense with the amount of blood on his shirt and smeared on the wall of the alley. She’d gone out in the early hours of the morning, having been unable to stay asleep for long after they’d both gone to their separate beds.
The dried blood was a smeared patch on the wall, and she didn’t know what drove her to take a bucket of hot water and a scrub brush out the back. It took a lot of scrubbing to remove the traces of his blood, and she wondered why she bothered. Perhaps despite his words of assurance that whoever had attacked him would not return, there was a fear that whoever it had been would go on the hunt for him. If they did, they would not find a trace of him behind her shop. Her hard work had seen to that.
She stepped away from the door and forced her feet forward. The day was marching on, and she didn’t want him to wake and find her lurking around the room where he was sleeping. She was dying to know more about him and why he seemed so familiar. Staring at the bedroom door was not the way to go about it. She had a business to run, and it was time to get to it.
