What in God’s name is happening to me? Tears of fear and frustration threatened. She blinked her eyes shut to stop them. I will not cry. I will get to the bottom of this.
Restless energy forced her to get up and pace the room. She squeezed her hands into tight fists, her demeanor crumbling.
“Why didn’t you tell me who I am? What I am? Why did you have to die and leave me like this?” she wailed toward the ceiling and the heavens beyond.
She collapsed in a heap on the couch and let the flood of tears pour.
****
Several hours and a bubble bath later, Pita regained control of her emotions. Heading to her computer with newfound resolve, she logged on and searched the internet for a flight. She found a reasonably priced booking into Romania with open-ended tickets for both of them. Because Sasha had loose ends to tie up at work, Pita booked a later flight for her. She didn’t bother booking a hotel for them, since Sasha had confirmed they would be staying with her Aunt Dorina.
Pita stood, stretched her back a moment, and went to the window. She gazed out into the cloudy charcoal-gray expanse of the night sky. I just want to find out why these strange things are suddenly happening to me. What is it about my past that is so important?
Pita opened the window and breathed in the cool freshness of the air. A hint of rain scented the light breeze that brushed over her face and teased the hairs that had fallen loose from her ponytail. Stifling a yawn, she walked back to the computer.
She bent peering at the screen, hesitated another breath, then clicked “purchase ticket.”
“There you have it, two tickets to Romania, one leaving this weekend. Looks like I’m on my way.” She sighed and a tiny smile played upon her lips. “I did it.”
Though she felt nervous and a small amount of fear at the prospect of this trip, Pita also felt a growing excitement. Then like a wet spray of icy water, the thought hit her. Why had her parents gone all the way to Romania to adopt her? Why not adopt within the United States? Many children here need what she’d been given, a chance at a better life within a loving family unit. Pita could think of nothing known to her that would tie her adoptive parents to Romania. Damned if this whole thing isn’t a total mystery to me. She sighed.
Pita hit the print prompt and within minutes, she had the e-tickets in hand. She would leave Friday, and Sasha would follow on Monday or Tuesday of next week. Everything was in order. Having traveled extensively with her parents, they had taught her to keep her passport current and valid. As well, she knew Sasha also had a current one. Pita shut the computer down and then closed the window after taking one last delicious breath of fresh air. Satisfied that all seemed to be in order at least for the moment, she left the office and went to begin the task of packing.
Chapter 11
Settled into her seat, Pita heaved a huge sigh. Turning her head, she gazed out the small window and watched a nearby plane taxi by on its way to take off. Her stomach flipped like a fish out of water. She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply through her nose, held it several seconds then, exhaled slowly through her nose, and allowed the breathing technique to calm her jagged nerves.
Commotion above her and the sound of the overhead compartments being opened and closed bid her to open her eyes. An elderly couple was in the process of stowing carryon items into the upper compartments wherever they were able to find space. The woman settled in next to her and the man sat on the aisle seat. They nodded and smiled a hello to her, then turned away talking to each other in low voices.
Good, I didn’t feel like spending the flight socializing anyway. Nothing worse than sitting next to someone who just won’t leave you alone. She reached into her purse, pulled out a paperback novel, and then began to read. It wasn’t long before the plane started to taxi to its holding position for take off.
Her favorite part of flying was the take off and landing of the plane. The rest of it was rather boring. Pita laid the novel in her lap and closed her eyes to get the full effect of the takeoff. She turned her head toward the window when she felt the plane climb, opened her eyes to watch the ground fall away and the clouds speed by as the plane began to level off. Closing her eyes again, she drifted off into a light sleep, lulled by the steady drone of the engines…
She trotted through the ancient evergreen forest again. The air smelled of pine and fresh dirt like after a heavy rain. Her spirit soared free, and her surroundings seemed almost surreal. A light mist hovered several feet off the ground. Her movements felt easy, instinctual. She leapt over a fallen tree and realized she wasn’t alone.
The wolf next to her was definitely not the one that stalked her at home. The wolf from home was markedly smaller, and Pita felt sure it had been female. She stopped and sat on her haunches. Only then did she realize that she’d become wolf again. The wolf in her dream—a big grey—stopped and circled back to her. He—yes, definitely male—tilted his head held low and his tail hung down with a slight wag. He pierced her with his amber stare.
“Why do you stop?” The voice slithered into her brain like the brush of velvet over skin.
Pita tried to talk but a low growl was all that came out. She shook her head.
“Just speak with your mind.”
She thought, “I don’t understand…”
“See? That’s it…let your mind speak to me.”
“What’s happening? Why am I a wolf?” She tilted her head and stared at the grey. The compassion in its amber eyes filled her with comfort, but also caused her to wonder what secrets the animal held. “It’s the most awesome feeling but…”
“You are one of us, Pita.” The grey approached her slowly.
She stood on all fours then backed away. Another low growl escaped her. It rumbled out of her throat as she formed the thought, “Please don’t come near me.”
“Be still. I come to you only to show you our greeting, Pita. Please do not fear me.” The wolf continued to move towards her in a low crawl, ears back, and head held in a low, submissive posture.
Pita fought the literal urge to turn tail and run, though, she knew she’d never out run the grey. It was bigger and much stronger.
Golden eyes locked onto hers. They were gentle, meant to comfort not threaten. She stood her ground.
The grey stepped close and rubbed its muzzle into her neck just behind the ear. It sniffed into the fur on her neck, then moved slightly forward and licked her snout. The gesture reminiscent of human greetings, she understood that the grey was being affectionate. It nudged her gently shoulder to shoulder…
And again.
Pita opened her eyes to find the elderly woman pressing lightly on her shoulder.
“Sorry to wake you, dear, but the stewardess wanted to know if you’d like something to eat.”
Pita sat up and tried to clear the fuzziness of the dream from her mind.
“Um…yes, thank you.”
…and maybe I should have a good stiff drink with that.
****
After two stopovers and one plane change, Pita settled in for the next leg of the journey. She’d finished her novel long ago and had stopped in one of the airport shops in Toronto and picked up a couple of magazines and another book.
Some passengers looked familiar, but many faces were different now. Her seatmates, the elderly couple seemed to be gone or at least not seated anywhere near her. This plane was a little smaller and had only two seats on either side of the aisle, the one next to her remained empty.
Absently, she fingered through one of the magazines when someone plopped down beside her. She glanced up into a face whose smile was so infectious and openly shy, that she instantly found herself returning the smile. “Hi.”
His hair was dark-blond and longish, not quite shoulder length. Little crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, and he had a dimple on his chin. She had an urge to reach out and touch a finger to that dimple. God, he is so cute. A flush of heat exploded in her as her eyes locked onto his hazel ones.
“Hello,” she said in return and tightened her grip on the magazine. She wanted to reach up and push his wayward hair out of his ruggedly handsome face. And to make matters worse she wanted to kiss that adorable lopsided smile right off his face. Oh my god, get a grip. What is wrong with me?
“Don’t let me interrupt you.” He glanced down at the magazine in her lap. “You were reading.”
Something seemed familiar about him, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. Pita detected a slight Eastern European accent. She blushed and concentrated on closing the magazine in her lap to regain her composure. Her reaction to him bordered on odd, and she couldn’t even find the correct words to describe it. Something tugged deep within her, some primal response to this man. Bigger than lust. It unhinged her.
“No, you’re not, interrupting, I mean… I was just flipping through it waiting for takeoff for the…um…the umpteenth time,” she smiled again, hoping to conceal how he unnerved her.
“You’re American?”
“Yes. I’m from Montana.” Pita answered. Why is it I turn into an idiot around good-looking men? Get a grip. “My name is Pita.” She extended a hand to him.
He took it, and Pita felt an odd vibration, a rush of…power? A surge shot straight up her arm that washed into her torso. It was the strangest sensation, not in any way painful, just odd. They stared at each other for long seconds before he answered. “I’m Nikolae Ionesciu, very nice to meet you. Please, call me Niko.” Again, that shy disarming smile. He had a small scar on his upper lip but it only added to his good looks.
Pita blushed again and looked down into her lap, so he wouldn’t notice. The jolt she felt from the brief touch was compelling. It vibrated through her arm like the aftershock of an electrical current. He’d felt it too, she’d seen it in his eyes. She picked the magazine off her lap and slipped it in the slot on the seat in front of her for something to do. No denying she was attracted to him, but the strange sensation that passed between them had nothing to do with it. She knew—no felt instinctively— without a doubt, this was something entirely different.
“Where are you from? Your accent…” Pita considered a moment. “Slavic? Perhaps somewhere near Romania?” She guessed. “My best friend was born there. Her parents have a similar accent.”
“I was born in Hungary but grew up in Northern Romania just over the border between the two countries.” He explained. “I travel between the United States and Romania often these days.”
“That explains your almost perfect English.” Pita grinned. She loved the husky timbre of his voice. Its slightly raspy baritone caressed her senses—soft, sensuous.
The stewardess passed by, advising everyone to buckle their seatbelts, that the plane would be taxiing for take off in a moment.
Pita busied herself with the seatbelt and locked the little tray in place. Niko bent to place his backpack under the seat in front of him then buckled himself in. He pushed back the hair that had fallen into his face when he’d bent down. Pita wondered what it would be like to feel that hand touch her face, her neck, slide down her...
Oh God, what is the matter with me?
The plane lurched forward and began its taxi to the runway. She relaxed into the seat and waited for the usual rush when the plane sped up and then left the ground. Better to concentrate on that than what she’d been thinking a moment ago.
“Here we go.” He commented.
“Hmmmm…” she responded glad that of all the seats in the plane his was beside her. The plane picked up momentum and lifted off the runway and into the night.
Chapter 12
Pita opened her eyes, feeling a little disoriented. The steady hum of the engines reminded her that she was still on the plane. She moved her neck in a slow circle, working the stiffness out, careful not to jostle Niko as he slept beside her. A few people had the overhead reading lamps on, but for the most part the plane was dim and quiet. She glanced at her wristwatch. Midnight. She turned her attention back to Niko.
He’d told her he’d been born in Hungary and his family had later migrated to Romania where he’d lived into his early twenties. Niko later moved to Paris to live among the Bohemian artists, painting and learning what he could until finally, he traveled to the United States where he formally studied art.
Pita smiled as she checked out his sleeping form. What a brave girl I am. She’d felt so awkward and nervous during their previous conversation that she’d spent most of the time looking anywhere but at him. But, now she could drink him in and that’s exactly what she planned to do.
His hand rested on the armrest they shared between the seats. Her eyes slid down the length of his six-foot or so frame. He wore an olive, cotton shirt that accentuated a lean chest and well-defined arms, though not overly muscular. She’d never liked muscle-bound men. Tan cargo pants and a pair of well-worn Nikes completed the outfit.
Her attention drifted back to his hand. It was a painter’s hand—the short nails stained with paints he’d not been able to scrub off. The lines of his fingers, gentle in appearance, long, squared. Pita also noted that he wore no rings, but that fact, in itself, didn’t guarantee anything. She didn’t know why his hands fascinated her, they just did. Not something she normally paid attention to. Pita smiled again.
He stirred emotions within her that no other person had ever touched. She couldn’t put a finger on it, but a passion brewed under the surface that ran deeper than a normal male-female attraction. It was almost a bonding of souls; the feeling that they’d known each other in another time and place, tugged at the far corners of her mind. From the moment they’d begun to converse there was an immediate connection, a feeling of comfort and companionship. Her gaze moved upon the shadow of stubble that accented his jaw line. It only served to make him sexier, appear more rugged. His hair had fallen across one eye. Pita again resisted the urge to push the errant locks back.
The plane ran into some rough turbulence, and he shifted, but did not awaken. Pita turned her head towards the window and stared out into the darkness.
As puzzling as her life had become lately, she was glad for the interjection of excitement and mystery. For the most part, she’d lived a sheltered, almost mundane existence. It never occurred to her to venture outside of her routine little life. As the plane crossed the vast ocean and sped her to a country as foreign to her as the moon, a quiver of excitement rose from the pit of her stomach like a wisp of smoke spiraling from a new-laid fire.
Pita turned her gaze again to Niko and found him watching her. An instant rush of heat spread across her face and down through her torso in a warm flush. Why am I so nervous around this guy?
He smiled at her. Though his teeth were straight and white, they had intermittent spaces between which gave an effect that was both boyish and sexy at the same time.
“Where were you?” he asked as he pulled himself upright in the seat. “You looked so far away, lost in thought.” He massaged his neck then rolled his shoulders.
“Um…I was just thinking how different my life has become overnight. A chance meeting in a grocery store and I’m sitting on a plane headed for Romania.”
Pita had told him about Floricita and seeking out her natural parents, but not everything. Most of it seemed crazy even to her. She would be damned if she’d admit communicating with a wolf to a stranger.
He brushed the hair back out of his face, as Pita noticed was his habit. “You will be enchanted with Romania and its culture and legends. It is a country rich in history. The forests are deep and dense, though the mountains will seem hills compared to some of your mountain ranges in the United States.”
“From what I could see in the few pictures I found, I have to agree about the beauty of the landscape. I grew up with wooded areas around my house and spent most of my time in the forest walking or just sitting on a fallen log alone with my thoughts. I’ve always been more comfortable alone in a quiet woodland than smothering in a crowd. Nature is peaceful and nothing is wasted.”
<
br /> Niko gazed at her for a moment then he shook his head causing his hair fell forward once again. He pushed it back and said softly, “Shuk tski khalpe le royasa.” His voice caressed her, once again reminding her of the finest silk sliding over naked skin creating a delicious tightening deep inside. “It means ‘beauty can not be eaten with a spoon’.” The feather-soft touch of his hand on her face caused her to shiver. “You are so beautiful, inside and out.”
Blushing once again, Pita looked down to avoid meeting his eyes. He turned her face upward with a gentle finger to meet those warm hazel eyes. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“Excuse me. Can I get you coffee or a drink?”
They both turned their attention to the flight attendant. Niko dropped his hand from Pita’s face, but the place where he had touched her still vibrated with warmth. She brushed her fingers across the area, then dropped her hand into her lap when she’d realized what she’d done. Pita cast a furtive glance at Niko, hoping he hadn’t noticed her romantic gesture.
“Yes, thank you.” He turned back to her and asked, “What would you like?”
“Um…coffee would be good.”
“It’s unanimous. Two coffees, please.”
The flight attendant poured the coffee as they readied their trays. She handed them each a Styrofoam cup of the piping hot liquid, several creamers, and sugar packets, then moved up the aisle.
Alone again, Pita, hoped to draw the conversation to more neutral ground, asked, “Did you sleep well?”
Niko chuckled and said, “I’ve slept better, how about you?”
“Same.” She grinned. “When will they make these seats more sleep friendly?” Pita blew on the surface of the coffee, attempting to cool it to a drinkable temperature. “How much longer before we land?” she asked, then took a careful sip.
“Another hour or so, we’ll be in Munich.”
Chapter 13
Curse Of The Marhime Page 5
