by Jess Dee
“Ouch,” was his first whispered response, and “It’ll be worth it,” his next.
“Both eyes then.”
They reached the door, and Zachary hurried her out. He shot a meaningful look at one of the bodyguards Luke had organized for the tour.
The man needed no further instruction. As Zachary grabbed Eve’s hand and raced down the hall, two guards placed themselves in the doorway, effectively stopping anyone from following.
They’d barely slipped around the first corner when Eve came to a dead halt.
A soft groan escaped her throat, and her eyes flickered closed.
Chapter Three
“Eve? Tiny? Can you hear me?”
She could. His voice echoed in the periphery of her mind, but she couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t respond. Her vision darkened and spots danced before her eyes.
Darts of heat ran up her arm, originating from the sharp tingles in her hand.
“Christ, you’re pale as a ghost.”
“Sing it, Grandmother, sing it again.”
There were two voices now. One she recognized, one she didn’t. The first was Jonah’s, the second a child’s.
Someone laughed. A woman. “Okay then, Zachary, but this is the last time and then you need to go to sleep. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Eve tried to gain perspective, tried to force herself back into the present. But it was too late. Jonah held her hand. And the tingles had increased so now it felt like electricity pulsing through her arm.
And then Eve wasn’t Eve anymore.
She was Zachary, the child sitting cross-legged on his bed, listening, rapt, to his grandmother sing.
I have a song to sing with you,
Believe these words we know are true.
He loved the song. Loved the images it inspired every time his grandmother sang it.
Feel it in the rhythm of your heart,
See the time your love will start.
Zachary’s heart began to pound. He closed his eyes.
She’s out there now, quietly waiting,
Red hair, green eyes…fascinating.
And there she was, a clear picture in his mind. Long red hair tumbled over her back, and her green eyes sparkled with laughter.
Warmth filled him from the inside out. Happiness snuck into his bones. No, he didn’t know her yet. Wouldn’t know her for a long time. But one day…
Appearances fool, you have been warned,
Follow your instinct, don’t be torn.
Zachary had no idea what the last lines meant. All he knew was the woman in his head—the woman he saw every time his grandmother, Edna, sang him his lullaby—would eventually be his.
“Eve! I need you to answer me.”
The tingles in her hand ceased. The electricity racing through her arm faded to harmless static, and she lay suspended in the air. Eve opened her eyes, and the world spun around her.
Not standing.
No, she definitely wasn’t standing. She lay horizontal, her right arm hanging limply at her side and the other arm, like the left side of her torso, squashed against a hard wall of warmth.
“Zachary?”
“Wha—? Jesus!”
Ah, it was the adult voice again. The one she recognized. The deep baritone, like the boom of a drum. Jonah’s voice.
Jonah’s body. That’s what she was pressed against. He held her, one arm beneath her knees, the other around her back.
She looked up at him, dazed. “Who’s Edna?”
Jonah blanched.
And then they were moving. Or rather he was moving, striding down the hotel corridor, carrying her. He came to a stop outside a door, and using the wall and his body to support her, dropped one arm and fished around in his pocket. In seconds he had a key card.
He gave it to her. “Take it, please. Open the door.”
Shakily, she slid the card into the lock as he caught her full weight in his arms once again. She pushed the door open.
Jonah had her inside and lying on a couch before the door clicked shut.
“Lie there.” He pointed at her. “Don’t move. Just take a few deep breaths and I’ll be right back.”
Too dizzy to argue, she dropped her head on the cushion and again closed her eyes. The melody of Grandmother Edna’s song drifted through her mind, but she couldn’t remember the words. What she could remember, vividly, were the emotions little Zachary had felt when he heard the song. When he pictured the redhead.
“Are you up to taking a sip of water?”
His voice was close to her ear, and she turned to look at him. Jonah knelt beside the couch, his face pale, his green gaze agitated.
“I think so.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders again, lifting her upper body and bringing a glass to her lips.
She took a few sips. “Thank you. That’s enough.”
He settled her down and sat back on his feet, staring at her. No matter how fuzzy she felt from her vision, Jonah’s presence still packed a punch. This close, Eve found it difficult to draw adequate breath.
“You wanna tell me what just happened?”
Images assailed her, one after the other.
Jonah holding the rose. Jonah laughing. The plate full of truffles. Jonah, kissing her, blowing her mind, taking her sanity. The lights. Thousands of flashes, blinding her. The race to escape. And finally, his arm, reaching towards her…
“My hand,” she explained.
He stared at her, baffled.
“You held my hand.”
He narrowed his eyes, as though concentrating. “I did.”
“That’s what happened,” she clarified.
Jonah jumped to his feet. “I’m calling reception. We’ll get you a doctor.”
She shook her head, then wished she hadn’t. It made the dizziness worse. “There’s no need for a doctor. I’m fine.”
“Lady,” Jonah said, obviously worried. “No one has ever zoned out on me like that. You need a doctor.”
“You’ve never held my hand before,” she pointed out.
He leaned over and touched her neck. “You’re white as a sheet and making no sense. Please, let me get someone up here to check you out.”
She grabbed his wrist, holding it tight. “I promise, I’m fine. I just need to get my balance back. This always happens afterwards.”
“What always happens? After what?”
“Hands.” She lifted hers and dropped it back down. “I feel dizzy. Discombobulated. But in a few minutes I’ll be right.”
“And this happens after holding my hand?”
“Not just yours.”
“You get dizzy when you hold anyone’s hand?”
“No, only certain people.”
Jonah shoved a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Eve, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She sighed and looked up at the ceiling before closing her eyes again. The giddiness subsided quicker if she kept them shut. “I have a…gift. A talent, you might call it.”
“What kind of gift?”
“The gift of sight.”
Silence, then, “Oh.” More silence. “Huh?”
“I see things. Images, snippets, pieces of people’s lives.”
Her words were met with more silence.
She took a deep, fortifying breath. Let the freak show begin.
“Often, when I hold a person’s hand, I’m hit with flashes of that person’s life. Sometimes it’s an image of the past, sometimes the present and sometimes the future. If I don’t know the person well, it’s impossible to tell which it is.”
“Hell.” The word was a whisper.
“Sometimes it’s a picture, like a photograph. Sometimes just words or maybe a conversation I overhear. Maybe I’ll see images, like I’m watching a movie, but there are times when it’s much more than that.”
“Much more how?”
“I merge with the person whose hand I’m holding. Become one with him or her. Instead of seeing the
vision like a passive observer, I become part of it. Live it like the person has—or will.”
What Eve neglected to tell Jonah was the latter only happened when the person whose hand she held had significance in her life. It was almost as though the more important that person was to her, the more she saw.
At the best of times, Eve’s visions left her rattled. But this one, this snippet of Jonah’s life, worried her like none ever had before.
She didn’t know the man. Had met him just a few hours ago. They’d shared nothing more than harmless conversation and a few roses. Oh, yeah, and a soul-shattering kiss. And yet she’d merged with him. Lived his life.
At least she assumed it was his life.
“Jonah?”
“Yeah?” He sounded distracted.
“Who’s Zachary?”
This time the silence stretched on endlessly.
Eve couldn’t bear it. It echoed through her ears, deafening her. She opened her eyes and looked at him, only to find him staring back, his expression confused, cautious.
“That’s the second time you’ve said the name,” he finally said.
“I merged with him. A child named Zachary.”
“What did he look like?”
Eve shrugged. “I don’t know. While I could see what he saw and hear what he heard, I couldn’t see him.” She hummed the song Edna had sung.
Jonah’s jaw dropped.
“His grandmother was singing to him.” The word struck a chord. Hadn’t Jonah spoken about his grandmother earlier, when he’d first given her the roses?
“His grandmother?” Jonah’s eyes widened.
“Edna.” The refined, beautifully dressed woman. “Brown eyes, brown hair. Although she was graying, rather grandly I might add.”
Jonah collapsed into a chair. “My grandmother.”
“Edna’s your grandmother?”
“Was.” His face fell. “She died a few years ago.”
She left him to his thoughts, let him assimilate what she’d told him. Though the visions were different every time, she was used to them. She’d been having them for eleven years, ever since the explosion. This was all brand new for him.
“Zachary? The kid you saw…or merged with?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s me.”
“You’re Zachary?”
“Zachary Pace. It’s my real name.”
“What about Jonah?”
“Stage name. And middle name.”
“Ah.”
And then they were both silent for a while.
Jonah came to sit beside her on the couch, perching on the edge of the cushions. She scooched up to make space for him.
“Tell me more. Tell me all of it.”
She told him, describing everything she’d seen and heard.
Jonah stared. “That lullaby my grandmother sang was her special song for me. She and I were the only ones who knew it. Until now, no one else has ever heard it.”
“It seemed to make you happy.”
He smiled. “It did. It gave me a sense of my future.”
“So, have you met her yet?”
“Met who?”
“Your future. The redhead from your imagination.” Her heart squeezed painfully as she asked.
He blinked. “Y-you saw that too?”
“I was you, Jonah. I was Zachary. Whatever you felt or thought that night, I felt and thought.” She’d experienced his sheer contentment at the idea of meeting the redhead. Contentment, happiness, excitement and anticipation.
Which was odd, really, because although she’d experienced all of Jonah’s feelings, they weren’t hers. Her personal emotions were quite different. She was put out, fiercely disappointed and…jealous.
“Jesus, this is weird.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Bizarre.”
To say the least.
What was weird for Eve, however, was that she’d told Jonah about her vision. There were times she didn’t mention having them at all. She’d yank her hand away and brush over it, explaining away her dizziness with arbitrary excuses like she must have stood up too fast, or that she hadn’t eaten all day.
But with Jonah she hadn’t thought twice. She’d told him.
“Look, I know how wacky this all sounds. If it helps at all, I did try to avoid it happening.”
“You did?”
“Earlier, when you offered to shake my hand, I kinda sensed something would happen, so I refused you. Twice.” She knew it must have come across as rude, but hey, better rude than invasive, right?
“You knocked my arm away.”
“I did.” Still aware of the jealousy niggling at her belly, she pressed him for an answer. “So, have you?”
“Have I what?
“Met her yet?” Another painful squeeze of the heart.
“You don’t pull punches, do you?”
“You kissed me earlier. Kissed me like you meant it.” Or maybe she’d been the one kissing him like she meant it. Just remembering the touch of his lips against hers—the glide of his tongue, the taste of his breath—brought a fresh wave of goose bumps racing over her spine and made her belly dip and jump. “If the woman of your fantasies is in your life, I want no part of your kisses.”
Not true!
Eve wasn’t exactly sure which part of her had yelled that. Her heart? Her mind? Her soul? Her…pussy?
“I did mean it.” His gaze met hers, and his lips softened in a sensual smile, making her heart slam into her ribs. “Didn’t mean to do it in front of all those people though, but I couldn’t help myself. You made eating that chocolate look like a sexual feast.” He closed his eyes for a second and licked his lower lip as though remembering the kiss and how the chocolate had tasted on her tongue.
The action caught her deep in her belly and brought back the breathless wonder she’d experienced when he kissed her.
“Th-then we’re even, because you make breathing look like an erotic festival.” She took a deep breath, steadying her pounding heart. “But, mate, that’s beside the point. You’ve once again avoided answering my question.”
“Maybe that’s because you don’t ask the easiest of questions.”
“See? Another non-answer.”
He eyed her thoughtfully.
Eve sighed and pushed up into a sitting position. The dizziness had subsided, and she felt stupid lying on the couch.
Jonah shifted to give her space. Even so, she had to shuffle awkwardly to get her legs around him and put her feet on the floor. She accidentally rubbed her calves against his side in the process.
Shockwaves pulsed through her at the contact. Sharp pulses of energy that set her blood on fire and awakened every nerve ending in her body.
But it was time to ground herself firmly in Eve-world again. Time to remind herself she had no place in Jonah Speed’s hotel room. Or life, for that matter. There was no point getting all worked up because Jonah had kissed her once. And given her flowers.
She was just Eve Andrews, the scarred girl from down the road. Even if Jonah’s interest in her had been genuine before now, she’d have destroyed it all with her freak show.
Just like she’d destroyed any possible relationship with her little talent. Men tended to run a mile when they discovered her “gift”. If her scars didn’t chase them off beforehand. And generally, the visions weren’t necessary. Men took one look at her face…and fled.
She stood up. “Look, Jonah, I’m sorry. I’m prying into issues I have no business prying into. Shoving my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“Zachary.”
“Pardon?”
“Please, call me Zachary. You’ve seen inside my head, it hardly seems right that you keep calling me Jonah.”
“I’m sorry about that too…Zachary.” It was a nice name. Suited him. She fidgeted nervously and took a step back. “About finding out your name when you obviously never intended for me to know. I’m sorry you got caught up in one of my visions. It’s not only unfair to you, it’s an e
xtreme invasion of your privacy.”
“It’s not your fault.” He turned his palm upward and looked at it. “You tried to avoid my hand, but I never gave you a choice.”
“Still, you never gave me permission to enter your head. It’s not cool.” She took another step back, this time turning around to look for the door. It was time to leave.
For the first time she noticed they weren’t just in a small hotel room like hers. They were in a suite. A luxurious suite in the Crown Towers with a huge lounge and dining room, a door leading off to what she assumed was a bedroom, an entryway where a set of drums stood, and a wall of windows, which must offer sweeping views of Melbourne in the daytime. Even now, the city lights twinkled behind the glass.
“Are you going somewhere?” His question drew her attention back to him.
“Back to my room. I’ve outstayed my welcome.”
“I put off answering your question, Tiny. That doesn’t mean I want you to leave.”
“I freaked you out.”
“You…surprised me.”
“I invaded your privacy.”
“You shared something I hadn’t expected you to find out about.”
“I like chocolate.”
“Uh…yeah.” He frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Like chocolate.”
“Didn’t,” he corrected, running his tongue along his lower lip again. “Until I tasted it from your perspective. And that taste is something I could grow addicted to in a heartbeat.” He held a hand up in question. “Still, I don’t see why having different taste in food means you have to leave.”
“Okay, then let’s just be honest. You’re famous, I’m not. You’re Jonah Speed, I’m just someone with a strange gift.”
“What the hell does fame have to do with this?”
“You’re out of my league, Jonah.”
“Zachary.”
“Zachary’s out of my league too.”
“How can you say that?”
“You kissed me and a thousand flashes went off. That puts you—Jonah and Zachary—in a different league. One I can’t deal with.”
