Rising Sun

by Lyla Oweds

  We heard nothing of Mr. Kohler or his situation for the rest of the day, and we worked in silence, pouring over books and papers, trying to find a connection somewhere.

  But despite Michael’s premonition, we weren’t making any headway.

  “We’re going to need to talk to Victoria Estrada,” Michael muttered over his mug. He’d taken Mr. Kohler’s chair and dragged it to his desk while I continued to work. He sat close to me, near enough to where the lulling beat of his heart had made it exceedingly difficult to stay awake. His tea had to be cold by now, but it didn’t stop him from sipping at it.

  Gregory looked up from his work, frowning at the other man. “But you said she wouldn’t be receptive.”

  “Victoria Estrada.” I glanced between the two of them. “Who is that?”

  “Stacy DuClaw’s little sister,” Gregory said, stroking his chin. “She was young when her sister was killed and supposedly traumatized from the experience. Throughout the years, she’s avoided interviews or questions about the event. And you already said that nothing has changed,” he finished, looking pointedly at Michael.

  “I know what I said, but I don’t think we’re going to have much of a choice.” Michael shrugged. “I don’t think we’ll get anything helpful from her. But we’re definitely not finding anything new in this,” he added, tapping his fingers on over his stack of papers.

  “And we’re still waiting on Mr. Bigelow,” Gregory asked, frowning at us. “I haven’t heard anything from Caleb. Though, he is supposed to be meeting our father, Oliver, and me for lunch today. I should probably head out. I’ll see if he can give me any information then.”

  Michael’s lips thinned. “It’s that time already?” He sounded apologetic. “And after you seemed to have such a good weekend too. Sorry about that.”

  Gregory sighed, getting to his feet. “I’ll survive.” His voice was strangely emotionless. The spiciness gone from his scent.

  I couldn’t help but watch him, concern causing my heart to squeeze. “Are you all right?”

  He’d been in the process of putting on his overcoat, and paused, hat in hand, as his eyes lifted to mine. The clouds cleared, and soft green took its place. “I’ll be just fine, Miss Gloria. But thank you for asking.”

  The moment stretched between us, and my face grew warmer as something akin to… fondness seemed to enter his gaze.

  But that was impossible. I barely knew him. No one had that look for someone they’d just met. Besides, I was a predator. He was prey.

  True, he was very self-sufficient prey, but still…

  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  Michael cleared his throat, pulling my focus back to reality. And the fact that, once again, I’d been staring at Gregory as if he was some kind of tasty snack.

  Gregory’s brows furrowed, and he turned an annoyed look on Michael. Michael, in turn, only blinked innocently back at him.

  Gregory looked away first. Rolling his eyes, he shoved his hat back onto his head. “Fine, I’ll just be on my way then.” He moved toward the door. His hand had touched the knob before he paused, glancing back at us. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. And this time I wasn’t certain if he was speaking to me, or to Michael.

  But I had no chance to respond, Gregory left the room without another word, shutting the door behind him.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I wonder what’s gotten him all riled up,” Michael mused. “I haven’t seen him almost smile since our grammar school days.”

  My attention moved toward Michael, who was frowning as he studied the place where his friend once stood. “You’ve known him that long? I thought the fae went to their own schools.”

  “We’ve known each other since we were toddlers. Gregory is my best friend,” Michael replied, grinning down at me. An action that prominently displayed his dimples.

  My breath caught, but he didn’t seem to notice. Instead, his grin fell and a shadow crossed over his expression. “But he hasn’t had much to celebrate these last few years. He didn’t go to Aletheia. He spent those years in the outside world.”

  I blinked at him, the strangeness of his statement sinking in.

  “But he’s fae,” I added. “I thought they avoided the general population.”

  Michael’s mouth quirked, and he crossed his arms. “You’ll find that Gregory isn’t like most fae. No one in that family is. It makes them outsiders in their own community. They’re paranoid, and build their homes in private locations. They’re only traditionalists in certain aspects.”

  “Really?” Come to think of it, Oliver’s home had been secluded. But then again, they were wealthy—that much was obvious from the wait staff, and the sheer size of the estate. So I just assumed he owned five hundred acres of private forest. Rich people did spend their money in strange ways.

  I’d barely blinked, and Michael was in front of me, offering me his hand. “I have a question for you.”

  I tilted my head, looking at his slim fingers. Throughout the afternoon, he’d taken off his outer jacket. Leaving him only in a light blue shirt. And he’d rolled up his sleeves, something he tended to do when studying. It had been one of his quirks in school, but also served in showing off his hard forearms.

  I’d paid more attention than I realized, because he seemed almost naked without a pencil tucked away behind his ear.

  I followed the line of his arm until my eyes met with his. Gray eyes twinkled at me, and his expression was patient. I realized he was waiting for me to respond.

  But the sound of my heart was suddenly echoing in my ears. I could scarcely think. “What?”

  “You’re in my seat.” He smirked.

  “You’ve been letting me sit here all morning without complaint,” I protested, my thoughts going on autopilot. “And that’s not a question.”

  It was happening. The longer he stared at me, the harder it was to ignore him. And I’d been doing so good at pretending this feeling in my chest didn’t exist.

  Gregory had a level of savagery hidden beneath his poised demeanor. He was someone nature intended for me to control, but there was little hope that I’d be able to contain him. I shouldn’t have been intrigued by this, but I was.

  But Michael was all passion. Within one breath of meeting him, I knew he was terrifying and uncontained. But then experience spoke. It was his presence that put me on guard. Outside of that, he’d never actually done anything to frighten me before.

  His eyebrows rose slightly higher as he watched me, and the corners of his mouth lifted. “Come on.” His smooth voice washed over me, pushing away my hesitation.

  With a sigh, I placed my hand in his, allowing him to pull me to my feet.

  “You haven’t really looked at me all day,” he remarked, as he pulled me toward him and wrapped his arms around my lower back. In this position, my face was equal to his upper chest, and I craned my neck to meet his eyes.

  They were almost sad, and a tiny bit frightened.

  “Talk to me.” His voice deepened. He hooked his finger under my chin. “We work together now. I thought we were past your running away at the mere sight of me.”

  His touch on me, his actions—quite honestly, he was taking liberties to my person at the moment. But his gaze held mine, and my every breath seemed to infuse his scent into me.

  I couldn’t even muster up the fortitude to push him away.

  “What else do I need to do to keep your attention?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

  He was so beautiful, so blinding, that my breath caught. A curl had fallen over his left brow, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from the power of his gaze. The air was a warm, heavy presence that seemed to encompass the space surrounding us.

  And this time, there was no fear in the way that my heart beat wildly within my chest.

  This was the closest we’d been since the first time we met.

  It was during freshmen orientation, when I’d run face-first into a pole while trying to avoid his gaze. I�
�d fallen to the ground in a dead faint, only to come to in his arms. My heart still raced at the recollection of his mischievous eyes and half-cocked grin.

  And while there had been concern in his gaze, there’d been something deeper present as well. A look of arrogance and a presumption in his gaze that pushed me away.

  Besides that, he had seen me in what might have been one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.

  But now there was none of that in his expression. I wasn’t certain when, or how, it had happened, but there was humility there.

  I’d seen it more and more the last few days. This was more than a change in his clothing. The way he held himself was different, his mannerisms relaxed.

  Despite his jovial appearance, he was a secretive man. And I never expected him to be entirely honest with me. Every question would result with redirection in his response.

  What did he really want with me? Surely, he’d never been serious.

  There was an openness to his expression now. Something else was different.

  Why were his eyes holding mine with such a look? His brows furrowed, and anxiety laced his expression. It almost seemed as though he was afraid.

  There was only one way to know if he’d truly changed.

  “I want you to tell me the truth.” It couldn’t hurt to ask once again. I’d questioned him on this before, but it was his response that led to me break his nose in the first place. “Why did none of the onmyoji in our class ever challenge me? Did you have something to do with it?”

  A crease appeared between his eyebrows, and discomfort filled his scent. Caution was thick in the air surrounding us, and—for the first time—the answer was written on his expression. But he still spoke anyway. “Perhaps just a little bit.”

  My stomach dropped at his response, even though I’d expected the answer. It didn’t matter. To have my suspicions confirmed was still a hit to my pride.

  I’d come to into this job believing I was prepared. Only to discover—

  “I know that face.” Michael interrupted my spiritual thoughts, brushing his finger over my cheek. “It’s not entirely what you think. The only thing I prevented were the underhanded tricks. There were talks about breaking procedure, to summon shikigami during duels when it was obvious you’d win. Or to challenge you outside of class, when you were alone. There were plans to force you to quit the program. That’s where I intervened. But rest assured, it only made them more determined to beat you in hand-to-hand combat. And you still won.”

  “I always beat you,” I pointed out, watching his mouth. “You were the second in our class. Did you let me win?”

  Michael sighed. “I can’t hurt you, Gloria.”

  Anger rushed through me, and my fingers tangled in his shirt as I prepared to either push away or toss him across the room. I wasn’t certain which. “You let me win. How many others—”

  “Thomas was third in our class,” Michael interrupted. “And he most certainly would not have allowed you to beat him.”

  I narrowed my gaze, a furious pounding racing through my blood. I’d never been so humiliated in my life. “What makes you so sure?”

  In response he cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. His gaze was unsarcastically stoic. “I’m sure.”

  Through my anger, some of his previous words began to come to the forefront of my mind. “He was one of the ones against me being there?” That wasn’t surprising. He’d made no secret of his dislike of me.

  Instead of fueling my emotions, the realization caused my pulse to quiet. Upon reflection, it was highly unlikely that Thomas lost to me on purpose—he was a bit of an ass. Every fight between us had resulted in such displays of anger that the instructors pulled him away from the mats.

  The wound didn’t sting quite so deeply.

  “But why would you want to protect me?” This was what I didn’t understand. “You were flirtatious from the beginning and we didn’t even know each other.”

  “I’m a seer.” Michael smiled softly as his thumb traced over my bottom lip. “I knew who you’d be to me from the moment I pulled your clumsy, unconscious form off the sidewalk.”

  Oh God.

  “When I held you to me, and your hand brushed over mine, I knew you were the one. And I also knew how this would end. It’s not traditional, by any means. But it’s worth every moment.”

  What did he mean? These cryptic remarks of his were maddening. “Michael?”

  “You said my name.” A corner of his lips lifted. “I’ve been waiting for you to say it this way for years.”

  “What—” I started—his honest, but cryptic, remarks were driving me crazy. But my question was cut off as his mouth pressed over mine.

  The world stopped. This was it, my first kiss.

  Considering my age, this was a sad thing. I had no idea what I was doing.

  But as his hands trailed down my arms, my self-consciousness melted away. He brushed his fingers down over my hips, slowly tracing his way toward my lower back, and pulled me closer until my chest was pressed tight against his. I grasped the rough cotton fabric of his shirt.

  My heart raced, threatening to burst out of my chest as his mouth moved determinedly over mine.

  His kiss was soft but filled with passionate authority. It was nothing like I’d imagined.

  Colors swirled under my closed eyes, and his touch moved up until his thumb traced my earlobe. At the same moment, his tongue traced along my lips. My skin was electrified under the touch of his fingers.

  My mind was numb with need, my body responded without thought. Under his lead, my mouth opened, welcoming him in as our tongues touched. His warmth enveloped me further as he pressed forward, and his grip moved from my face to the back of my thighs as he leaned forward and hoisted me onto his desk.

  The room swam into vision as I blinked my eyes open, so I was able to catch the almost-hesitant look on Michael’s face as he pulled back.

  “Michael…” My voice was horrifyingly breathy, and logic—and embarrassment—began to trickle back into my awareness. What was I doing? While, technically, we’d known each other for years, I’d always rebuffed him. We weren’t even courting. “We…”

  Why did I never imagine it could feel like this?

  His uncertain expression faded, and within a breath, his mouth returned over mine. He moved his strong hands down my thighs, pushing my skirt higher around my legs. His touch glided back down, toward my knees, until he paused—his touch lingering there.

  I was barely breathing. My thoughts scattered, torn between the sensations of his mouth and his hands on my skin. Kisses that seemed to pull the fire from me. Whatever this was, it was moving so fast. But I didn’t want it to end either.

  At this exact moment, Michael had never frightened me more, or made me feel safer.

  I didn’t know how to handle this strange and unfamiliar territory.

  His breath brushed over my mouth as his face moved back from mine, and the heady scent of determination passed in waves through the air. But the nervousness that caused his hands to shake didn’t make his voice waver. “Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked for the ten thousandth time.

  Time halted, and reality washed over me.

  It was different now, and I wasn’t certain how. This was Michael, the man I’d fled from for years. But why? I couldn’t reject him anymore. As I’d feared from the beginning, constant exposure had begun to weaken my objections. My pounding heart and my clouded thoughts couldn’t bring up any real reason to say no.

  He wasn’t my mate, and I knew that. The sparks and fireworks that were supposed to be present in a mate bond weren’t there.

  Yet, why should I say no?

  Who cared if he was stronger than me? I probably didn’t even know the full extent of his abilities. But, really, would it be terrible to depend on someone?

  “Gloria…” His breath whispered across my face, and he lowered his forehead to mine. “Please?”

  He wasn’t assuming, he was
asking. Pleading. My heart pounded at the knowledge this powerful man would even resort to begging.

  Just to be with me.

  To be honest, it was a bit flattering too. He’d been looking out for me in more ways than I could ever imagine. And despite the fact that I’d treated him terribly, he stayed dedicated to me.

  It would be foolish to lie to myself anymore. Or to him.

  There was no use waiting anymore. I had to make my own destiny.

  “Yes.” My voice sounded steady despite the quaking of my nerves. This was something new, different. Something that might even come back later to hurt me. And I wasn’t sure that I was ready for that.

  But it also felt right.

  “I’ll be your girlfriend,” I clarified, holding his gaze.

  Triumph, then joy, crossed his expression, and I’d never seen him smile so widely before. His breath shook and his hands trembled as he touched my face, cupping my cheeks. “I’m so happy,” he breathed. The elation surrounding him was almost palpable. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me. I feel…” His voice trailed off.

  Along with his proclaimed emotions, was the underlying scent of arousal still. “I’m pretty sure I do know how you feel.” I sighed, trying to change the subject. Girlfriend or not, I certainly wasn’t ready for all this talk of feelings.

  He smirked, obviously catching my meaning, and his hands returned to my legs. This time he gripped my knees and jerked my legs apart, startling me with the unexpectedness of his actions.

  Before I could protest, or even figure out what the heck was happening, he’d stepped between my legs. He pressed against my core as his hands returned to my ass and pulled me toward the edge of the table. His hardness pressed against me, easily discernible through the fabric of his clothes. It made things easier that my skirt had become bundled between us.

  “Michael.” My words were a whisper against his lips, and my statement cut off as his mouth covered mine once again. The forceful, passionate pressure of his mouth molded over mine, causing me to gasp. But there was no space between us, no give, and the sound was lost.