Dark Reality 7-Book Boxed Set

by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

  Chapter 4

  Arianna had busied herself unpacking the contents of her box marked “bathroom” when a knock at the front door interrupted her.

  “This guy is something else!” she muttered to no one. “He needs to get a life, or a hobby, something,” she continued as she stomped through her bedroom past the kitchen. By the time she’d reached the living room, she’d gotten herself sufficiently riled and was prepared to blast John Jervis, the person she was certain had knocked on her door.

  “Jeez John!” she shouted as she twisted the doorknob. “What now?” she huffed, but felt her legs go weak and her eyes widen in surprise. The person on the other side of the door was not John as she’d expected. It was Desmond.

  “Who’s John?” Desmond asked her and quirked a brow.

  “Desmond!” she breathed and felt emotion well in her eyes. She did not think she would see him again so soon, if ever. Yet, here he was, standing in her doorway like a god fallen to Earth. “What’re you,” she started and heard her voice falter. She wanted to ask him what he was doing there, but her throat had constricted tightly around the lump that had formed there. Besides, his reason for being there did not matter. All that mattered was that he was, in fact, standing on her doorstep.

  “You’re here!” she managed and gave up fighting the rush of emotion. She closed the distance between them, threw her arms around his neck and squeezed, inhaling deeply. His rich, masculine scent filled her nostrils. He smelled of leather and another spicy note she could not place, and musk. He smelled like Desmond. He smelled like home to her. But not a home she’d ever lived in or anything as simple or traditional as that. The feelings it evoked ran far deeper than anything she could put into words. She breathed him in again, filled her lungs with his fragrance, and savored in an indescribable sense of belonging so profoundly entrenched in her core she had to struggle to keep from weeping.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear and she felt her heart swell so greatly she worried her ribs could no longer contain it.

  Two weeks without him had seemed like two years. She wanted nothing more than to stay, just as they were, wrapped in each other’s arms, but knew that, at the very least, she should invite him in.

  “I’m so happy you’re here,” she said. She dropped her arms from his neck reluctantly and stepped back. “Come in.”

  She moved aside and watched him walk past her. The cabin looked much smaller with him in it, and better. His generous height and broad shoulders filled the room. She’d forgotten how strapping he was. His face was indelibly etched in her mind, but his body remained somewhat of a mystery. Filled with hard planes and peaks, it emitted heat so inviting, she found herself yearning for it, yearning for its comfort. So much had happened in such a short time. She had missed him. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since she’d seen him last. She’d ached for him during that time, ached for the rich sound of his voice, for warmth of his touch.

  Having him there in her new place and breathing his intoxicating scent made her forget how he’d left her so abruptly, and when she’d needed him most. He’d told her they were not meant to be together or some other crap like that. All of it was a blur now. All that matter now was that he was standing in her living room.

  She wanted to tell him everything, tell him how much she’d missed him, how she’d felt like a part of her had been ripped from her then hold him hostage for the rest of their lives. But she did none of those things. Instead, she blurted out, “What are you doing here?” and felt her cheeks blaze.

  Desmond shifted uncomfortably and she did not know what to do.

  “I mean, I thought we weren’t supposed to be together anymore. I thought you were relieved of your protector duties,” she continued to fumble idiotically.

  Despite her fumbling, a hint of resentment remained in her tone that awkwardness could not hide.

  “I needed to see you,” he shocked her by admitting. “It’s harder than I thought to be away from you after spending so much time together.”

  His crystal-blue eyes held hers and she felt her insides liquefy. She searched them, trying to steady herself, and swore she saw shame flicker in his features.

  “Sit. Stay awhile,” she said in the same tongue-tied tone she’d used since he’d gotten there.

  He crossed the small, but exceptionally neat, living-room area and looked between the floral-print sofa and matching loveseat, both situated around an oval, wooden coffee table as if asking her which he should sit on. He seemed so nervous, almost as nervous as she felt.

  “Are you thirsty?” she asked and realized she’d never seen him eat or drink anything. “I mean, does your kind get thirsty?” she heard herself ask and cringed. Why was she acting like such a nut? She wondered. They had been around one another before. According to Desmond, he’d been around her his whole life.

  “My kind is your kind, Arianna,” he reminded her gently.

  She felt her olive skin blush deeply and she cleared her throat. “Sorry. Yeah, wow, that was really stupid of me,” she said and willed herself to calm down.

  “I’d love a glass of water,” he said, his voice sending chills racing across her skin.

  She raked a hand through her hair before moving to the kitchen area. As if her every word since he’d gotten there had not been embarrassing enough, she was reminded that she did not have a glass on hand. All of them were still packed in boxes. She had to dig through one and pull a glass wrapped in newspaper from it. She peeled the paper, rinsed it then filled it with water from a gallon jug in the refrigerator. All the while, her hands trembled.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her and she thought the glass would slip from her hand.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Never better,” she heard herself reply without emotion as she brought him his glass of water and sat beside him on the couch. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “For starters, you lost your mother two weeks ago,” he said and his words hit her like a ton of bricks.

  “Yeah, I know. How could I forget?” she snapped.

  A pained expression clouded his exquisite features and she instantly regretted the harsh tone she’d used.

  “Arianna, I’m so sorry. It’s just that I saw your hands shaking when you poured my water and I got worried,” he started but she cut him off.

  “Don’t. I’m the Sola, remember? I’m destined to be a miserable, lonely spinster according to you and, well, life. Turns out, I can’t have a mom, a friend, a boyfriend, you.”

  The bitterness poured from her effortlessly and without warning. A part of her that she had not yet acknowledged until the present had reared its ugly head. She was angry, angrier than she’d ever been. Saddled with a snappy title and responsibilities she never wanted, Arianna had a world of hurt thrust at her, the rest of which remained to be seen, though only one person was left to take from her and he was likely champing at the bit to leave right now. He’d already left once before.

  “You’re not destined to be miserable. You have a very important job,” Desmond said with little conviction. His sadness was palpable and she could not stand to see him hurting.

  “Yeah whatever,” she said dejectedly and decided not to share her frustrations with him.

  “Nice place, by the way,” he tried to lighten the mood. “Where are we, anyway?” he asked.

  “You don’t know where you are?” she asked incredulously. His innocent question, the guileless expression on his glorious face, made the annoyance she’d been feeling disperse like grains of sand in a breeze. “Didn’t you read signs on the highway as you drove?”

  “Read signs? Uh, no. Not exactly. I teleported here,” he replied.

  “Oh yeah, duh, I’m such an idiot today,” she said and lowered her eyes embarrassedly. “You, I mean I, or we, rather, are in Hallowed Hills, Maine,” she continued slobbering all over every sentence she spoke to him. She hated how she felt and how she wa
s acting. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she either acted like a complete moron or a complete bitch.

  “Can I teleport too?” she asked and sounded more like herself.

  “I don’t know. Have you tried?”

  “No. I haven’t. Not since my powers, you know, woke up at Kane’s church two weeks ago.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “I will,” she said and took her lower lip between her teeth.

  He looked at her expectantly.

  “Not now,” she said and caught him staring at her. “I’m not going to try to teleport right this minute. I need to, I don’t know, concentrate at the very least, and I can’t concentrate when you’re around.”

  She felt color touch her cheeks again. She could not believe she’d just admitted that he made her nervous. She was Arianna Rose, for heaven’s sake! She was never nervous around guys. But Desmond was not like any other guy. And there was the fact that he had told her that he loved her. Not face to face, but he’d whispered it in the wind as faint and frothy as a thought in her mind. Despite the lightness of its delivery though, what he had told her, his words, had carried more weight than he could possibly imagine.

  “Do I make you uncomfortable, Arianna?” he asked and looked oddly vulnerable.

  “Yes,” she said and lowered her gaze to her hands in her lap.

  She was ruining any chance of a pleasant visit that existed for them. She knew it. She looked up at him through her lashes and saw that he looked as if he’d been punched in the stomach.

  Without knowing what else to so, Arianna stood and spread her arms out. “What do you think of this place?” she tried to change the subject. He’d already told her it was nice, but she was so rattled, she’d lost her train of thought. She suddenly felt like John Jervis, minus the extra fifty pounds and general hairiness.

  “It’s nice, really nice,” he replied uncomfortably.

  “It’s different from the string of trailers I’ve lived in, that’s for sure,” she said. In her frazzled voice, she heard hurt. She had not wanted to be pathetic, had wanted to put on a braver face for him than she had been, but the mere mention of anything related to her mother pained her. She wished he would reach out and touch her, hold her tightly and never let go.

  “It certainly is,” he agreed. “How did you end up here?”

  “You mean in Maine, or in this cabin?”

  “Both.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I just felt pulled here, like a huge magnet was attracting me here. So I got in my mom’s car and drove. I stayed in a motel for a few days and looked in the paper for a more permanent place. That’s when I found this cabin,” she said and glanced around. “It was listed with a real estate agent, who was really annoying and pushy, by the way, and tried to make me look at apartments way out of my price range and in more crowded areas. But I knew I wanted to be here, in this cabin. I guess it was pulling me, too.”

  “Huh,” Desmond said and rubbed his chin. He seemed so calm outwardly, save for the slight tremor of his hand. She wished she felt as calm as he did. Inside, she felt as if each of her cells was firing frantically.

  “And then there’s school,” she chattered away. “I have to register tomorrow and start classes and all that stuff. There’s just so much to do.”

  “Wait, what?” he interrupted. “School? I thought we agreed school was not a good idea until you learn to better manage your emotions.”

  “Yeah well, that was before,” she said and wrestled with a surge of sadness beginning to brim. “And I promised my mom I’d get my high school diploma. I promised her I’d graduate from high school.”

  “I see. But why can’t you finish high school through distance learning, take online classes. You’ll still graduate with a high school diploma.”

  “That would have been an option at the beginning of the school year maybe. But now, I have, what, like six months of school left?”

  “Seven, but who’s counting,” Desmond added and smiled.

  Arianna blushed again. She wondered for a split-second whether he was flirting with her then silently scolded herself for even thinking something so absurd. After the way she’d behaved thus far, there was no way in hell he was flirting. She’d behaved weirdly at best, unpleasant at worst. He did not want her. Perhaps she’d dreamed that he’d whispered in her head that he loved her. Maybe her traumatized brain had invented it. And then there was the kiss. She guessed the kiss meant far more to her than it had to him. He’d been around for almost a hundred years, or so he’d said. In that time, he’d probably kissed more women than he could count. To him, it was undoubtedly the equivalent of a raindrop in a vast ocean. To her, it had been a deluge in a desert. She understood now, and the longer he stayed, the more obvious it was becoming that he did not feel for her as she felt for him.

  She felt foolish and wished she could be more aloof about the whole situation.

  When Desmond stood suddenly and said, “Arianna, I’m sorry for coming. It’s obvious I am no longer needed in your life. It was a mistake for me to come,” she felt the air squeeze from her lungs. She was about to ask him why, why he had come in the first place, why he had kissed her, but he spoke before the words ever fell from her lips. “But before I leave, I have one question I’d like to ask you. It may seem like an odd one, but, when you killed Kane and his men, how did you feel?”

  The moment seemed surreal, his question was ridiculous.

  “Wait, first you tell me you’re leaving after being here for all of like, fifteen minutes then you ask me how I felt when I killed Kane and his men! Are you out of your freaking mind, Desmond?” she lashed out. She had not felt like herself earlier, but she certainly did now. The dulled, frilly edges of a mind swamped by girlie delusions came sharply back into focus. Oh I’m out of here, Arianna, but first, just wanted to drop this asinine question in your lap she imitated his words in her mind with the squeaky voice of a cartoon character. Was he for real? She wondered.

  “No, not that I know of,” he replied calmly.

  Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “It was a rhetorical question, Desmond,” she said snippily. “Why do you want to leave?”

  “I don’t want to leave. It seems like you want me to leave,” he said and looked as confused as she felt.

  “Oh, so now you’re an expert on what I want, too,” she argued. “It’s not enough that you know more about my powers, my destiny and what I am, than I do. No, no. Now you’re a freaking mind reader, too!”

  “Clearly, I’ve upset you,” he said levelly. “I did not come here to upset you.”

  Arianna felt her blood begin to boil. She was not some high-strung, overly sensitive girl prone to fits and tantrums. She was not overreacting.

  “Then why the hell did you come, Desmond, to ask me if I liked killing those men?” she yelled and began pacing. “Well then, don’t let me waste another moment of your time. Yes! Yes I did enjoy killing those bastards! They would have killed me first if they could have, just like they killed my mother and Luke! I enjoyed killing them and I’m glad they’re dead! And I’d do it again if I had to! There, does that answer your question? That is what you came for, right?”

  “No, it isn’t,” he said flatly.

  “Then why did you come?” she shouted at him as she stalked from one end of the living room to the next.

  “I came because I love you,” he said softly.

  His words stilled every sound, every movement in the cabin. The stilled everything except the wild beat of Arianna’s heart. She froze where she’d railed just seconds ago. Hands that had gestured animatedly fell to her sides and the furious, wild-eyed expression she’d tried desperately to conceal relaxed completely. He loved her. He’d said it himself. She wasn’t sure what to say or do, so she did nothing for a moment. Then she took several steps toward him and stopped just inches before him, her chest rising and falling fas
ter the closer she got to him. She raised her hand to touch him and he recoiled just a bit. She nearly laughed aloud seeing his reaction to her. Did he think she was going to hit him or something? She wondered.

  “I’ll leave,” he said and sidestepped her.

  “Shh,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  “You don’t? Then what was all,” he started to ask, but never finished his question. She silenced him by pressing her lips to his.

  With her mouth on his, she rose to her tiptoes and pressed her body to his. She could feel the frantic beat of her heart against his hard chest, feel his warmth. He wrapped his arms around her waist and scooped her up so that her feet no longer touched the ground. A soft sigh escaped her and she parted her lips and swept her tongue into his mouth. The sensation was exhilarating, the taste of him delicious. She forced herself to exercise every bit of restraint she had to keep from trailing her tongue down the length of his neck and tasting more of him. And she did not want to rush what was happening, rush the inebriating thrill she was feeling.

  Her hands raced up into his hair and she tangled her fingers in the short curls at his nape before sliding her body down his, not missing the firmness below his belt, to her feet. She heard him groan in delight, the sound rousing every part of her body and continued teasing his tongue with hers.

  Her fingers danced up under the back of his shirt then trailed down slowly, tracing every muscle as it descended lower and lower, to the waistband of his jeans. His skin was hot to the touch. She wanted to feel his hot skin close to her, around her, on her, inside of her. Need twisted feverishly within her and, as if sensing her intense desire, his hand moved up her side and under her shirt until it reached her breast. With deliberateness that nearly buckled her knees, he kneaded it over the silky material of her bra and she felt her nipple harden. He gently squeezed a stiff peak between his index and middle fingers as he rubbed, and the feverish, twisting need coiled so tightly, she thought she would shatter into a million euphoric pieces. She moaned and began to rub the part of him that had hardened. He covered her mouth with his and lapped at her lips sensuously.

  To hell with prophesies, she thought, imagining what his tongue would feel like elsewhere. What she was experiencing with Desmond, the fact that he loved her, was more important than any ancient rambling scribbled in a book.

  She was about to begin unzipping the fly of his jeans when slowly, Desmond lowered his hand from her chest. The sensuous probing of his tongue stopped and he pecked her lips lightly.

  Arianna backed away from him, shocked and panting a bit. She searched his eyes for an explanation, but saw the same passion-glazed look in his eyes she was sure she wore herself.

  “We can’t,” he said, but his words lacked conviction. And so did his body. He wanted her; that much was plain to see.

  “I want you,” she ignored his halfhearted attempt to stop what they’d begun and looked at him with every bit of hunger she was feeling.

  Desmond cupped her face in his hands then bent his head. He took her lips hard, sending a burst of emotion through her. He pulled her close to him and her energy roared inside her like a river, powerful, unstoppable. Arianna’s body melted against his and she parted her lips. He slid his tongue between them and sent her over the last ledge of self-control that remained in her. She loved him. And she wanted nothing more than to be with him, all of him.

  The sudden need to touch every inch of his skin, to feel his naked body writhing atop hers, overwhelmed her.

  “I love you, Arianna. My life is meaningless without you,” he whispered with sincerity.

  Arianna threw her arms around his neck and drew herself deeper into his ravenous kiss. She wanted to hear him say he loved her again and again, to hear that he needed her as she needed him, but desire enveloped her fully. His hands found the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head before they moved to the clasp at the back of her bra. The satiny garment fell to the floor soundlessly and he lowered his eyes to admire her soft mounds. Her nipples were taught with excitement and she could think of nothing more than the feel of him taking a firm peak between his lips and rolling his tongue over it. He mimicked the act in her mouth, thrusting his tongue temptingly around hers as his hands caressed her eager breasts. She breathed hard, panting excitedly and he pulled his mouth from hers, kissing the length of her jaw and neck to her collarbone and lower, until finally, he reached her breasts. He kissed every part of them, progressing slowly until he reached her nipple. He took one between his lips and Arianna drew in her breath sharply, need twisting almost painfully as it touched every inch of her like tiny shards of mind-numbing sexual desire.

  “Oh Desmond,” she breathed and tangled her fingers in his hair.

  He began kissing her other breast as he unfastened the button of her jeans. He slid them down past her hips and she lifted each foot as he slid them off. Then he removed her silky thong underwear and a quiver of enjoyment wound about her core. He was about to kiss lower, to delve into the deepest part of her womanhood when she stopped him. She did not want it to be that way. She wanted to feel him first, feel his bare skin against hers. She knelt and pulled at his shirt. He obliged by lifting his arms and she pulled it over his head. She tugged at his shoulder gently, before his mouth touched the soft curls between her legs and he looked up at her questioningly. She gestured for him to stand and he rose to his feet slowly, allowing his eyes to languidly roam over her naked body.

  His act made her reconsider her decision to cuddle first as need pooled low in her belly, his eyes fondling every part of her seductively. The need for him to be inside of her moved her and was nearly her undoing. She closed the distance between them and pressed her chest to his. She felt his heat, felt his swell of excitement against her waist. She slid her hand over it and it was he who drew in his breath sharply this time. He groaned and cupped her bare bottom in his hands, lifting her. She wrapped her legs around him and he carried her to the couch.

  “Desmond,” she breathed. “To hell with the prophecy, take me now.”

  Her mention of the prophecy seemed to rain on him like a bucket of ice water. Desmond pushed himself up, away from her. up onto his hands, his body hovering over her. She hooked a leg around his thigh.

  “I want you,” she said lustfully.

  “No,” he whispered and shock immobilized her.

  “What?” she asked and did not bother to hide her surprise and frustration.

  “No, we can’t,” he panted.

  “No? What the hell do you mean no?” she asked, hurt and rejection lacing her every word.

  “I mean we can’t do this.”

  “What the fuck Desmond? We can’t do this? We already started something! What the hell is your problem?”

  Her hurt and frustration quickly segued into anger. She was naked and they’d been about to make love a second ago and that was the moment he decided it was a bad idea.

  “You belong to another,” he said tightly. “It is your fate.”

  “I belong to no one,” she said firmly and pushed his arms away as she sat up. “And fuck fate!”

  “Arianna, it’s not that simple, you know that,” he began but she cut him off.

  “Yes, Desmond, it is,” she said through her teeth as she scrambled to cover herself with throw pillows. She felt vulnerable, more than she had in all her life. She was exposed in every sense of the word and wanted nothing more than to put her guard back in place, where it had always been. “Get out,” she breathed. She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly, fighting back tears.

  “Arianna, wait,” he tried, but she did not want to hear another explanation of why they couldn’t be together, or the newest crazy nonsense that she was destined to be with someone else.

  “Get out, now!” she hissed. “And don’t come back.”

  The set of her jaw and the look in her eyes warned him not to say anot
her word, that he had hurt her beyond repair. She watched, feeling the weight of the world crushing her chest, as he dressed then turned and walked out the front door. She wished he would have teleported. Watching him go had hurt far worse than it would have had he just vanished from her sight as he had in the past.

  For several moments, Arianna sat on her couch, naked in more ways than just the obvious, and stared at her front door. She did not know what she expected it to do. Burst open maybe with Desmond on the other side screaming, “To hell with rules and prophecies! You’re my woman!” No, nothing that dramatic; in fact, she expected nothing at all. That was how her entire life had been. She’d gotten nothing from it, and she expected nothing from it, nothing except heartache. She could not wrap her mind around what had just happened. One minute, they had been lost in passion and the next, he was spouting about her fate and how she belonged to another. She had no idea what any of it meant. She vaguely remembered him saying something similar at Kane’s church. Of course, they hadn’t been naked and about to make love at the time. Regardless, it sounded familiar. She could not remember exactly what he’d said. Much of that day remained blurry, a horrific, nightmarish blur. She guessed none of what he’d said mattered. He’d made himself clear. They could not be together. And he’d rejected her when she’d thought it impossible for a man to reject a woman: with her naked and begging for him from beneath him. But he had.

  Intense, indescribable embarrassment consumed her, burned up her body until it settled on her neck and cheeks. She stood and began picking up her clothes. She slipped her sweater over her head then her underwear and her pants with tears stinging her eyes. She was about to walk to the kitchen and unpack to distract herself when her knees gave way under her. She collapsed onto the couch. Sobs racked her body, tears of shame and anger, of helplessness and confusion. Was her life already laid out for her? Had some ancient seer predicted her future? Did it include a life of loneliness and misery? Desmond had said she belonged to another. She wondered what the hell that meant. She wanted Desmond, not this mystery person he’d spoken of. And with her luck, the other man would not be a man at all, but some awful troll of a being she’d be forced to spend eternity with.

  Too many questions turned in her mind. Surely someone had the answers, someone willing to share them. Desmond merely offered her cryptic clips. She did not know where he’d gotten his information from or how he’d gotten it, but she wanted to know more. It was her damn life, after all.

  Arianna wiped her eyes with the bottom of her sweater and walked to the kitchen, determined to finish unpacking the kitchen, at the very least, and to make a conscious effort to forget about Desmond.