by C. R. Jane
I see his hands start to tremble and I’m strangely insanely happy that he’s feeling whatever this is between us as well. It takes just a second for the image of Mason bleeding in my arms to reverberate through my brain however. The electric connection buzzing between us abruptly snaps as I bring myself back to reality.
I take a step back, shaking from the rush of adrenaline. “I’ll give both of you a few seconds to leave,” I say coldly, continuing my retreat. I’m suddenly desperate to get away from him. I turn and jog out of the garden, surprising the guards stationed at the garden’s gate as I pass them.
I’m done making terrible decisions.
When I wake up, I’m still encompassed in Damon’s arms. A solitary tear slides down my cheek as I think about my latest dream. Despite what I had told Damon when he was upset that I hadn’t seen him in one of my visions yet, I had been hoping that I would be spared seeing him.
Nothing good ever ends up happening when I dream.
9
What once was paradise now lays in ruins. I walk through the landscape that is burning up around me. The flames lick at my heels and the ash that I’m walking on burns the bottoms of my feet as I walk. My eye is intent on the horizon. The glittering white palace that had always beckoned me to it was nothing more than a smoldering pile of ruin.
I wake suddenly, the last vestiges of my nightmare sliding away before I can grasp it. I’m grateful for the reprieve of not recalling it clearly. My nights have been haunted even more by dreams lately and I wake up every morning more exhausted than the night before. I need a way to shut my mind off or stop whatever keeps stirring these nightmares that give me glimpses into a past that I no longer want to see.
I reach out next to me, expecting to feel warm smooth skin, but the bed is cold to the touch. I’m surprised to find myself alone in the bed. It’s not often lately that the guys willingly leave the bed without me, Damon especially. Ever since we’ve made up, he’s been even more protective than usual, not leaving me alone unless he knows that I’m with Mason and Beckham.
I get out of bed and slip into a robe, tying it closed as I walk out of the bedroom out towards the living room where I hear voices whispering something. When I walk into the room, I’m shocked to see the room has been completely transformed with Christmas decorations everywhere.
There’s an enormous twelve-foot-tall flocked Christmas tree standing in front of the floor to ceiling windows. Every inch of it is covered in twinkling white lights and red and gold bulbs. There’s garland strewn across the fireplace mantle, and gold and white reindeer situated strategically around the room. The dining room table has a long red table runner down the middle of it that’s trimmed in gold. There’s holly and white and gold candles all along the middle of it. The room has so many Christmas decorations in it that there are even red, gold, and white Christmas pillows on the couches.
I’m standing there in shock when I hear the guys’ voices coming from the kitchen. I walk in and find them studying a tablet closely, their heads bent together as they mutter back and forth, obviously trying to be quiet despite the fact that the baking seems to not be going well. There’s an assortment of various baking ingredients scattered around the counter, with flour on almost every surface. They’re so engrossed in their task that they don’t even notice that I’ve come into the room despite the fact that they all possess supernatural hearing.
I watch them, tears starting to gather in my eyes. With everything that had been going on lately, I had completely forgotten that Christmas was going to be here soon. I had never celebrated Christmas before. All of my foster families had either been too cheap, or too mean to bother doing anything for Christmas for their foster kids.
“I love you,” I say softly, and they all immediately look up, looking like kids caught stealing candy from a candy store.
“Surprise?” says Beckham sheepishly, holding up a tray of sugar cookies that are I’m sure supposed to be various Christmas shapes, but instead resemble misshapen lumps. I do everything I can to hide my giggle because he looks so excited and proud over his creations, and I must succeed, because he starts putting them on a plate talking about how we can decorate them later.
Mason comes up behind me and wraps me in his arms, kissing the side of my neck and giving me shivers as usual. I notice that Beckham keeps his eyes focused on the cookies and Damon turns and starts rooting around the fridge as soon as he sees Mason touch me, but no one says anything about it, which seems like progress to me.
“Good morning,” Mason whispers into my ear. “I missed you last night.”
I turn in his arms and give him a hug in return.
When Mason finally lets me go, Damon comes and grabs my hand, leading me back into the living room with the other two guys following behind me. We spend the next hour with them showing me every single decoration. I notice for the first time that there’s already a significant number of presents wrapped beautifully under the tree and I start to panic about the fact that I haven’t gotten them anything yet.
I’m standing there in front of the perfect Christmas tree, surrounded by gold and glitter and everything wonderful, and I suddenly burst into tears. Damon immediately stalks over to me, pulling me into his arms.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, rubbing my back. “Is it that terrible?” he jokes. The other two are watching me quietly with concerned looks on their faces. The only thing I can think of to illustrate to them how I feel is to use my new trick of pushing out my emotions to all three of them. I focus on the warmth and happiness inside of me and send it out to all of them.
I can tell when Beckham feels it because he takes a step back, losing his balance for a moment when it hits. Mason clutches his chest and sits down shakily. Damon’s arms tighten around me and he burrows his face in my neck, inhaling sharply.
“Thank you,” I tell them, my voice heavy with emotion.
We spend the rest of the morning on the couch in front of the fire, watching Christmas movies and eating Beckham’s cookies that taste pretty good considering their shape. One of the guys is always touching me, playing with my hair, or stroking my hand. There are no arguments, no jealous glares; there’s just love and laughter and happiness. It’s the best morning I’ve ever experienced.
I walk into the bedroom that I have, but never use, and for the millionth time of the day I am surprised. There’s a glittering gold dress laying on my bed. It’s the exact dress that I was admiring in a magazine ad the other day. Mason had seen me admiring it since he was sitting next to me. He must have bought it for me.
I notice that there’s a small envelope lying next to it on the bed and I eagerly grab it and take the note out of it.
Love,
Get ready for your first Christmas date of the year. This dress won’t sparkle half as much as you do.
-Mason
I reread the note once more before eagerly undressing and then slipping the dress on. Of course, there’s a pair of stiletto heels to match. Out of the three of them, Mason seems to take the most pleasure in buying me pretty things to wear...lingerie included in that as the gold and white satin set that were included with the dress attest.
I know that I’ve actually had plenty of sex over the course of my existence, but I still feel so unsophisticated about most things. Even simple acts like putting on lingerie still make me blush. I suck it up though, knowing that Mason will love looking at me in it later on. Walking out of the room I reach out to close the door behind me, and then stop, focusing on the golden ball of light I feel within me where my power sits.
I haven’t done practically anything with my power since we’ve returned even though I know I will need to use it to protect the ones I love. I’ve been scared to harness it anywhere near people because of how out of control it was when Aiden was teaching me. Finding out about my connection with Aiden has made me even wearier about using it, wondering if I have more of a propensity to use my power in the wrong way than I’m aware.
I
envision the door closing and I’m gratified when I feel the sensation of something like a cord shooting out from within me and grabbing the door handle. The door closes, a little too forcefully I can admit, but I still count it as a win. My power worked.
I straighten my dress, feeling a little bit more confident in myself at accomplishing the task, and I walk down the hallway back into the living room. I momentarily lose my breath.
Mason is standing in the living room, dressed in something that I’ve never seen him in before, a tuxedo. It’s black and sleek, complete with a long, skinny black tie. His hair is slicked back into his usual bun, but I can tell he took extra effort to tidy it up. Mason doesn’t even wear traditional tuxedos for huge award shows like the Grammys, and I’m having a hard time reconciling this debonair gentleman with the rocker that I have been dating. One thing I know for sure, the world has been missing out. I could stare at him all day and never tire of it.
The whole time I’ve been devouring the sight of Mason, he’s been devouring me. HIs greedy eyes look me up and down and finally he walks towards me taking my face in his hands and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. When he lets me go, I see that he has a wickedly carnal expression on his handsome face.
A prickly, heated blush creeps up my neck under his intense scrutiny.
“You clean up rather well,” I tell him breathlessly.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life,” he says in return, his eyes taking one more languid look up and down my body before he reaches out and casually puts his hand on my lower back, gently leading me towards the door. He’s touched me a million times before, but my heart still flips around in my chest at his touch. Intense heat spreads over my skin, humming like I’m filled with a powerful energy.
I’m never going to make it through whatever we’re doing without incinerating if this keeps up.
I’m able to choke out a sentence, even with his overwhelming presence and my racing hormones.
“Where are we going?” I ask, staring up into the midnight blue eyes that remind me of a starry night sky.
“It’s a surprise,” he says, and I respond by laughing a bit crazily, so overwhelmed with all of the surprises that I’ve gotten already today. He takes my hand and leads me to the town car that’s waiting on the curb. I’m surprised to see that it’s not Shelton since he’s been driving us everywhere lately. I turn to ask Mason where he is when I’m assaulted by the sensation that someone is watching me. I feel the ever-present tinge of worry and anger at the eyes that never seem to leave me when I’m in public, but I stupidly say nothing. I don’t want to ruin any part of this night. It seems like that’s always my reason though and I know that sooner, rather than later, I’m going to have to bite the bullet and talk to the guys about my silent, mysterious stalker.
“Everything alright, love?” Mason asks, since I’m hovering by the car instead of getting in. I smile at him, and nod, not trusting my voice to cooperate in hiding my growing unease.
Mason does a good job of keeping me distracted while we drive telling me about the new songs he has been working on. Before I know it, the car is stopping, and I see that we’re in the back of what I think is the Madison Square Garden. Mason grabs my hand excitedly and leads me through one of the back entrances. I’ve become accustomed to never actually going through a front door if another entrance is available to avoid the crowds of paparazzi and fans that constantly follow my guys everywhere.
After talking to an employee waiting at the entrance, we’re led up a few flights of stairs to a large suite. There are platters of delicious food as well as a bottle of champagne. After making our plates, Mason leads me down to the front row of the suite that looks out below to where a large stage is set up. A large flashing screen above the stage says something about Trans-Siberian Orchestra. It’s not something I’m familiar with, but I’m excited nonetheless. If Mason thinks they’re good, then I have no doubt that I will like them as well.
While we are waiting for the concert to start, I get a text. It’s from Lexi, asking if I’ve read the journal yet. My fingers hover over my phone, not knowing what to say. I realize that somewhere along the way I’ve stopped trusting Lexi. Finding out all the secrets she’s withheld from me have broken something between us. Something I mourn deeply. I put the phone back in the purse I have with me and ignore the text.
Putting the phone away doesn’t prevent the text from burning through my mind however. I placed the journal in the bottom drawer of the dresser in my room, under some clothes just in case any of the guys happened to look. I hadn’t read any of it, the memory of what I had seen when I touched it never far from my mind.
I know that there are probably a lot of answers to my past within the pages, but I’m afraid of what else I might find out. The more I learn, the more I wonder if I’m not destined for a happy ending.
“Penny for your thoughts,” says Mason, putting his arm around me and taking a sip of the champagne that the suite attendant had poured for the both of us.
“Just thinking about how wonderful the day has been so far,” I tell him, shooting him a fake smile.
“Then how come you looked so sad just then,” he chides gently, brushing a kiss across my temple.
“I’m not sad,” I lie to him, cursing myself as I do so. I open my mouth to take it back when the lights suddenly dim and an announcer introduces the performance.
And then the magic starts. I’ve never heard anything like it. It obviously pales in comparison to Mason’s singing, but I’m still enthralled. The music is powerful and exciting. It’s a breathtaking mix of lights and fogs, flames and explosions all accompanied by rock versions of some of the Christmas songs I had heard before, but never knew who the artist was.
I can feel Mason’s eyes on me for half the performance. I’m sure I was amusing to watch. Despite all that I have had the opportunity to do since escaping the attic, there’s still so much of the world that is new to me. I don’t think I will ever lose my appreciation for everything the world outside of that attic has to offer.
When the last notes of the music fade, the crowd takes a collective gasp before they begin to roar. I’m on my feet clapping and cheering, delighted with what I’ve just witnessed.
I turn to say something to Mason, but his lips are on mine before I can say a word. I’m out of breath when he lets me go and I give him an inquiring look.
“You make the world so much better, Eva,” he tells me. “I’ve seen this show a million times and it’s never been this enjoyable. You’re magic, love.”
I blush and tell him effusively how much I enjoyed the show. And then it’s a race back to the car. We’re both flush from champagne and happiness. As soon as we get into the car, Mason’s hands are sliding to my hips, pulling me onto his lap. He kisses me hard on the mouth. Our tongues tangle together, dancing around each other.
Our lips part and he lingers. I breath him in, losing myself momentarily to his touch, his scent, his nearness. When he finally crushes his lips to mine again, my hand flies up and catches his face, holding him to me, greedy for the taste of him. It had been too long since I’d felt his body against mine. Although we still hadn’t known each other for very long, my body had felt his absence. He was meant to be with me. He was meant to be a part of me.
The sound of police sirens blaring outside of the car brings us back to earth. We’ve just turned onto the street where our penthouse resides and there’s police cars and other first response vehicles everywhere. Our driver stops the car since we can’t drive any further on the street and Mason hurriedly throws open the car door and gets out.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way I can convince you to stay in the car?” he asks me worriedly.
I roll my eyes and he sighs and pulls me behind him. It’s bitterly cold outside but fear and adrenaline keep me warm. We hurry down the sidewalk and the unease pinching at my gut only rises as we get closer to the entrance of our building and I realize that the entrance is where all th
e action seems to be happening.
We’re stopped by an officer before we can get up to the entrance, but it’s not soon enough to prevent me from seeing what’s lying right by the doors.
It’s a tuxedoed man, his throat ripped open as if by an animal. There’s blood and gore everywhere but what most horrifies me is the fact that the man looks like Mason. Not as beautiful by any stretch of the imagination, but the fact that he has his hair pulled back in a bun, he has tattoos peeking out the edges of his sleeves and on his neck, and the fact that he’s in a tux almost identical to what Mason is wearing tonight makes it a little too unreal. I know what it’s like to watch Mason die. I didn’t need this reminder.
Although I would like to think that this is just a stroke of bad luck, that this man was just passing by our building when he met his end, I’ve learned that nothing in my life is ever a coincidence. Although it seems that this murder isn’t elegant enough to be by Aiden’s hand, if it isn’t him...who else is it?
The fact that someone has been watching me suddenly takes on a new meaning. For some reason the thought that Aiden was out there, biding his time, didn’t fill me with as much fear as thinking it’s someone else. Someone else obsessed enough to murder and make sure that it feels personal to me.
Mason finally gets them to let us in the building after promising that we’ll both answer questions. We quickly enter the building and go up to the top. I feel clammy and nauseous.
When we walk in, Damon’s lounged on the couch watching an episode of The Office, a show we’ve become obsessed with lately. He looks over to us and is immediately on his feet and in front of us in a second.
“What happened?” he growls at Mason, pulling me into his arms.
“There’s a dead body in front of our building,” responds Mason, running a worried hand through his hair agitatedly.
