Interlude (The Stone Legacy Series Book 2)

by Theresa Dalayne

  He pulled out a chair. Rows of heavy rings decorated his fingers. His gaze bore into her while she struggled not to seem obviously uncomfortable. She had no idea what to say or do, so she sat there frozen, hoping he would just go away.

  “I saw you watching me. Are you wanting something?”

  Tara shook her head.

  He examined her for a long moment. “Are you sure?” He leaned forward, his forearms propped on the table. Hidden under his hand was a Ziploc bag with two pills. “Very good. Pure.”

  Tara’s body heat spiked. Someone had to be watching, and had to have noticed this guy offering her drugs.

  She shook her head again. “I don’t need anything, thanks.” Her voice came out as a squeak.

  “This is what many say. But…” He slid the baggie across the table and dropped the cloth napkin on top of it. “This is for no charge.” He placed a business card on the table in front of her with only two words written across the navy blue background—Club Grunge.

  Before she could muster up the courage to object, he stood and walked away, leaving her alone with the baggie and two tiny pink pills inside. Even under the cover of the napkin, the drugs seemed to be screaming for attention from every cop in a ten-block radius. She sat like a statue, staring at the cloth.

  Her waiter strolled to her table with a tray in his hand. “Would you like your check?”

  It was probably a good idea to get out of there. She slumped back in her chair and nodded.

  “Let me get these things out of your way.” When he reached for the empty bottle of S.Pellegrino and napkin, her heart nearly exploded.

  She pounced her hands over the hidden baggie and froze. The waiter pulled back and stared at her with wide eyes.

  “I…I’m actually not done yet.” She flashed a tight-lipped smile. “Sorry. Give me, uh…give me another bottle of this stuff.” She tapped the glass bottle. “Please.”

  With raised eyebrows, he said nothing, and turned and walked away. She grabbed the baggie and business card and shoved them into her pocket. She would throw the pills away somewhere, and nobody would be the wiser. Her muscles began to relax.

  That was it. She’d just throw them away.

  Everything would be fine.

  Nobody would ever know.

  After dropping some money on the table, Tara left the restaurant. Quick steps brought her closer to an alley with a trashcan on the corner. She reached into her pocket and curled her fingers around pills. All she wanted was to be rid of it, and get back to Peter, who was probably worried about her. She’d acted like such a jerk.

  “Hey, trouble.”

  Tara glanced over her shoulder at a pair of eyes lined in black. “What the hell?” She turned to face him. “Are you stalking me?”

  “I could ask the same question.” He lit a cigarette.

  She crinkled her nose at the stench of burning earth and chemicals whirling in the air. “The answer would be no.”

  He gestured to her jacket pocket with a nod of his head. “You going to take those?”

  “Take what?” She tightened her hold around the baggie.

  “Andrei isn’t the kind of guy you want to screw around with. Trust me. He hangs around some not so normal people.”

  “How do you know his name?” She glanced down the street at the black sedan, then turned her attention back to the weirdo in front of her. “And what about you? If I’ve acquired my own personal stalker, I should at least know what to call you.”

  He paused for a moment, and one side of his mouth curled into a grin. “Malachi.”

  She crossed her arms. “Okay, Malachi. So why are you following me around?”

  He took another drag from his cigarette. His skin was as white as the smoke snaking from his lips. “You interest me.”

  “Well, that’s not creepy.” Tara turned and walked away, hoping he wouldn’t follow.

  No such luck.

  “Where are you going?”

  His stare bore into her back. Her skin crawled. “Why do you care?” She kept her head down and increased her pace, her goal set on the hotel just ahead.

  “Never know.” His voice became more distant as the space between them grew. “Someday you might need me.”

  “I highly doubt that.” Another glance over her shoulder stopped her dead in her tracks. Standing at the foot of the hotel steps, she searched the sidewalk and found pedestrians in heavy coats and tourists carrying cameras, but no Malachi.

  Chapter Four

  Tara’s mother strolled into the cell—Sarian, cloaked in yet another form. Her strawberry blonde hair—thinning from age and the constant abuse of cocaine and tequila—fell straight over her shoulders.

  She looked exactly like Tara remembered from the last time they saw each other, when Tara was just five. She probably wouldn’t remember her mother at all if it weren’t for the few photos she had at the orphanage. Now that they were gone too, her memory had started to fade, and her mother’s face had become a blurred image she struggled to see.

  Until now.

  Tara had managed to stay composed through Sarian’s prior attempts to tear information out of her, but she couldn’t tell what she didn’t know. Of course, Sarian didn’t believe her. Still, this time, in the form of her mother, Tara’s heart shriveled, and after a moment of watching the woman, Tara turned her head.

  Drops of cold sweat zigzagged down her back and over the ridges of her spine.

  “Where is your guardian when you need her?” Her mother whispered in a soft coo.

  Tara’s bottom lip quivered. “Please…let me go.”

  “And if I do, will you tell me how to break the obedience spell?” With a delicate touch, she lifted Tara’s chin, forcing her to look into her mother’s eyes. The same brown, tired eyes Tara had stared into as a child, hoping her mother was sober enough to sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star before bed. The same eyes that returned her childlike hope with sharp glares of resentment. Her mother had never wanted her. That much had always been clear.

  Anger churned inside her. Sarian had approached her in the form of Renato and Zanya, but this was an all-time low. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart.

  From under the folds of her baggy sweatshirt, her mother withdrew a heavy mallet. Tara gasped and tried to shake free, but the splints clamped around her legs kept her from trying more than once. Pain quaked up her body, blurring her vision.

  “Usually, the Boots are very effective in extracting information—a method from the medieval era.” Her mother’s lips curled into an insidious grin. She held up the mallet, slowly rotating in front of Tara’s face. “But perhaps I should try another approach.” She lowered the weapon, and her figure morphed until the mallet transformed into a cane. Her mother’s body morphed into Sarian’s—her mother’s baggy sweats changed into his sharp suit and her brown, resentful eyes grew dark, almost black. He leaned on his cane, his hair slicked back. “Perhaps I’ll allow Yaxche to have its way with you instead.” His voice had returned to his own, though that wasn’t any comfort.

  A slithering root caught her peripheral vision. Tara frantically glanced around. Thick coil snaked up from the soil and over the ground beneath her feet.

  “This tree has kept the dead trapped in the underworld since time began.” Sarian slowly backed away.

  The chair cradling her body began to tremble. Tiny vines sprouted from the armrests and crawled along her wrist. Her breath stalled when she realized that the entire time she’d been bound, her chair had been roots from the world tree, all woven together and perfectly still.

  The prison cell door slammed shut, and Sarian peered through the bars. “I’m sure it would appreciate a live meal. That is, unless you have some information for me.”

  Vines wound around her feet. Thicker roots sprouted around the edge of the room, scarlet capillaries clustering under the bark. The writhing vines caressed the delicate skin on the back of her hand. They moved with the rhythm of her chest, rising and
falling with every breath. Paralyzed with fear, she could only sit there in horror as she realized…

  The roots were breathing.

  ***

  Shaky, Tara managed to make it to the bathroom before her knees buckled. She grabbed onto the sink for support and splashed cold water on her face. Drops slid down her nose and chin as she stared in the mirror at the ghostly reminisce of her former self.

  A small part of her wished she’d had an answer to Sarian’s question. She hadn’t known anything about the obedience spell at the time. Hell, she still didn’t. No details at least. If she had, she could have told him, and it all would have ended. It wouldn’t have been a total loss. He eventually figured it out anyway, from what had Peter said.

  She wouldn’t know firsthand.

  Tara hadn’t seen Zanya since it happened, and the knowledge her best friend was out there, fighting to save Jayden without complete control of her stone, made Tara’s stomach ache. Knowing her friend’s life was at risk, she couldn’t have told Sarian. Not if it meant she would be responsible for the consequences: the blood of countless innocent people on her hands. No thanks.

  She peered closer into her reflection. The shadows under her eyes were darker than before. Even her curls were droopy and sad.

  Tara paused, wondering what else about her had changed.

  She hesitantly stepped in front of the full-length mirror and peeled off her pajamas. Standing in her underwear, the full gravity of her deterioration was in clear view. Her ribs were defined, and her pelvic bones had begun to protrude. She had always wanted to be thinner, to smooth out her curves until she had a lean torso and slim hips—but not this way.

  She walked out of the bathroom, leaving her PJ’s on the floor. They smelled of sweat and fear.

  Back in bed, she hugged a pillow against her chest and rested her cheek against the soft linen. There was no way she could go back to sleep now. That last flashback was enough to keep her awake for weeks. She could still feel the vines tightening around her wrists, and hear the slow, hissing exhale of the tree.

  This must be what Zanya had endured all those nights in the orphanage—the reason she never slept, and hated the night and the dark. She understood now.

  The down feather pillow held the aroma of fabric softener. Not even a hint of fresh rain or sweet wildflowers. With a deep sigh, she crawled out from between the sheets and slipped on her robe, then cracked the door open and peeked into the silent hall.

  The soft glow of the evening lights cast warmth across the hotel walls. Quiet steps led her to Peter’s door. She knocked, her heart growing heavy while she waited for him to answer in the middle of the night for the umpteenth time. It wasn’t right for her to drag him into her mess. She still hadn’t apologized for the way she took her frustration out on him earlier that day. Without Peter, she would be all alone. He was the only comfort she had now that Zanya was gone.

  Dark fog clouded the edges of her vision. Damn dizzy spells. Tara rested her palm on the wall to ground herself.

  The door opened, and Tara quickly stood up straight. She didn’t want to worry him, although it was obvious by the look on his face that her effort hadn’t paid off. Peter stepped aside with the door open, inviting her in.

  The scent of fresh rain soothed her as she entered his room. His fingers caught her wrist, and she melted into him.

  He deserved so much better than her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He pushed the door shut and wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t ever be sorry for needing me. I’m always here.”

  She sniffled, her entire body aching for relief. She curled her fingers through his shaggy hair and trailed her hands down his shoulders. “Mmm, you smell so good.” Her lips found the curve under his jaw. He tasted just as amazing.

  A soft laugh bubbled from his chest. “Do I?” His hands found her waist and ran up the soft robe, over the curves of her back.

  The more she realized how safe he made her feel, the more she wanted to be close to him. She wanted to be submerged in his serenity, his flavor, his skin.

  Suddenly the answer to her turmoil became clear.

  She brushed her lips over his and untied the belt of her robe. When she shrugged her shoulders back, the robe slipped off and puddled onto the floor, leaving her standing in her underwear.

  His skin was warm under her fingers. She pressed her body closer to his.

  Peter’s muscles flexed beneath her palms. A hint of guilt made her hesitate. She’d told him when they first started dating that she wasn’t ready for this, and ever since, she’d held true to that oath. Her advances were going against everything they’d established, but she couldn’t help herself. She needed him to take away the pain.

  Her heart fluttered with each breath. He tasted like heaven, or the first rays of sunlight breaking through the night sky. Tara whimpered and opened her mouth just enough for his tongue to slip between her lips.

  Peter didn’t disappoint. He gripped her hips, sending a shiver over her skin.

  He broke away, spent a moment gazing into her eyes, and smiled. She laced her fingers between his and led him toward the bed.

  “You came here for this?” His voice sounded deeper, softer, and more seductive than ever heard before.

  There was no reason to reply. He may not know why she wanted him, but it was obvious what she wanted. When they reached the bed, Tara’s turned to face him. This would be the first time she would willingly give herself to anyone. If she thought about it too much, she’d lose her nerve.

  Peter followed her onto the plush mattress. One hand planted on either side of her, he trapped her against the pillow. He let out a sharp breath when she pulled him closer.

  Every touch melted away a bit of her misery and made it easier to forget. His solid body pushed against hers, and she sucked in a tiny gasp.

  His lips found hers again, but he all too quickly pulled away. “I love you, Tara. You know that, don’t you?”

  Her heart swelled. She loved him too—more than even she could admit. He was the only one who could take away her suffering and soothe the torment torturing her body and heart.

  She loved him, but as much as she hated to admit it, she did need him to fix her—or she might go insane.

  Tara peered through the dark room as he backed away and climbed off the bed. He turned to a chair and began searching in his duffle bag, probably for protection. He must have been carrying it around. A mixture of fear and excitement whirled through her.

  He came back with something in his hand, but it wasn’t flat and square with a round bulge in a metallic wrapper.

  It was black and velvet.

  A box.

  He flipped on the light, assaulting Tara’s eyes. She blinked and found Peter lowering to one knee.

  His hand quaked as he stared up at her. She hadn’t seen him so nervous since the first time he kissed her.

  The light in his eyes was so genuine. It should have made her happy.

  Instead, her mind whitewashed with panic.

  A ring?

  She didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Maybe it was just a pair of earrings, or a necklace. She’d feel like a total idiot if she freaked out before knowing for sure.

  But if it was…Tara’s muscles tensed.

  He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “First, I need to ask you something.”

  Tara dragged her legs over the side of the bed and gripped the edge of the mattress. “What is this, Peter?”

  He drew in a deep breath. “You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and the days I spent not knowing if you were alive or dead were the worst days of my life. After that, I made a promise to myself that I would never let you go.” He slowly opened the box to reveal a gold band with a pear cut diamond in the center, and tiny blue gems framing its sparkling curves.

  She pressed her shaking fingers over her lips. This was bad. How could he ask her to marry him when she was…her, and he deserved so much more?


  He shifted his weight, still on one knee. “Please, say something.”

  “Why are you asking me this now?” Now, when a part of her was using him for the peace he could give her.

  He trailed his hand up her leg and rested it on her knee. “I know we’re young, and it may seem crazy to everyone else, but I don’t care. I want to be with you, but only if you love me enough to not regret it.”

  “Regret it?” Her throat went so dry.

  “I want us to be together, Tara. I want you, forever.”

  Her limbs froze. “Forever?” Her mind exploded with a sickening realization—one she’d never faced. Not until now. “Forever is a long time, Peter.”

  His lips parted, and he hung his head. “If you’re going to say no, please…don’t drag it out.”

  “I just…” It was as if someone had stabbed her in the chest. “Shit.”

  He stared up at her with parted lips. “That’s the response I get? Shit?”

  Her breath recoiled. “No. I’m sorry.” She rubbed her eyes. “But…forever for you isn’t forever for me.” Despair filled her beyond capacity. “Haven’t you ever thought about that?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She admired the polished gold band and sparkling stones. “I’m not like you. Someday I’ll leave you behind.”

  Peter pushed off the floor and sat beside her. “Don’t think about that. You’re all I want, and if we’re going to be together like this…” His fingers trailed down the curve of her bare shoulder. “I want to be sure our first time isn’t something you wish you could take back.”

  Slowly, her eyes met his, and a scar deep inside her heart tore open. A scar created from all the first times she had never wanted. All the first times her mom’s boyfriends forced on her when she was too young to fight back.

  Peter knew about her past. She never expected he would mention it again, especially at a time like this, when she was almost naked, offering what little worth she still had left.