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REVELATION (THE REVELATION SERIES) Page 4
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Tonight, he’s wearing dark blue jeans, black boots, a black t-shirt, and his leather wristbands. He bites his lip and all I can think about is biting it for him. Holy crap, I really need to get my hormones in check. I’m acting like a crazy fan girl.
He just watches me pensively. At the uncomfortable silence, I begin to fidget before ending it.
“Funny. She’s dead but funny,” I mutter, pointing toward where Aria just exited.
Asher nods his head in slow motion as if he agrees. “She’s a friend of yours?”
I pause, shocked at his sincere tone. “Yeah. That’s my roommate, Aria. I came here tonight with her and two other friends. They forced me to dress up and come out. Apparently, I need to have more fun or whatever,” I babble in an odd, nervous manner.
Asher’s eyes lock onto my hazel ones for a while then release them as they dip and roam up my body. Blue irises take me in bit by bit. Every look feels like a caress across my skin, starting at my shoes, extending over my legs, dress, lips and finally they fasten back onto my eyes. “I noticed.” His voice is deep and full of promise.
Heat spreads in my body as his scent wafts over to me. I need to get myself under control and fast. “Where’s your blonde friend?” I ask, my tone a bit rude.
Asher lifts his eyebrows in surprise, assessing me for a moment before tilting his lips sensually and cocking his head to the side. “Are you jealous, siren?” he asks, dropping his voice to a seductive tone before taking a step toward me.
I take a step back. If he gets too close, I won’t recover. “No.” I quiver inside.
He takes another step forward. I retreat again. “I think you are.”
“I promise you, I’m not.” I tilt my chin up, not giving in. He’s so close now my traitorous body craves him instinctively.
Asher’s face becomes serious as he leans in so we’re nose-to-nose. I part my lips as his eyes dart to them and he whispers, “Good, because I’m indifferent to your envy.” His eyes hold mine.
I exhale the hurt of his statement and then breathe in a deep, cleansing breath in order to regain my composure and attempt to brush off his rejection. “I should get back.” I point to the end of the hall, my escape from the uneasiness.
Asher heaves a sigh and backs off, putting space between us. “Actually, I want you to leave. This really isn’t a proper place for you to be,” he orders.
“Excuse me?” My voice rises with irritation. “Who the fuck do you think you are giving me orders?” The hurt from the rejection morphs into an irrational anger at his gall.
Groaning, he rubs his hands over his face and through his hair. “I’m someone who’s been in here a few more times than you. I know the type of crowd that hangs out here and you, siren, are not that type.” He throws a disgusted look at me.
“What? I’m not good enough to be here? Is that what you’re saying, pretty boy?” I spit out, forcing my irritation out with the statement.
“It’s the opposite.”
I’m confused. “What?”
“You’re too good to be here.”
“Meaning?” I question, stunned.
“It means you need to leave, now.”
“No,” I snapped, taking a step forward and crossing my arms.
His eyes go wide, fists tightening at his sides. “No?” Asher repeats, shocked, as if no one has ever said the word to him before.
I smirk. “That’s what I said, using the English language, I might add.” I throw his words back at him as I stand in defiance.
Bewildered, he prowls at me like a panther, crossing the distance between us. “You think you can handle what’s in here?” His voice is low and threatening, vibrating through me and rattling my soul.
Shaken at his power, I retreat until my back hits the wall again and forces me still. My breath is erratic as my heart beats against my rib cage furiously.
Asher stops within a breath of me. Frustrated, he moves forward, closing the space. Pressing his body against mine, he holds me in place to the wall. He slides his knee between my parted legs and grabs my wrists in his large hands, pinning them to the wall at my sides. His eyes force mine to unite with his. Our uneven breaths mix. One slight move between either of us and our lips would be touching.
He just watches me. “You have no idea what type of fucking crowd comes in here. Now, do us all a favor and run along, siren,” he says, clearly pissed off.
I’ve decided I’m not going to allow him to boss me around. “No.” It comes out breathy.
Asher’s eyes drop to my rapidly rising and falling chest. Then his gaze lifts to my parted lips, which I lick subconsciously, causing a deep noise to form in the back of his throat. At the raw release, a feverish and nonsensical need for him to kiss me blooms.
His face is uncertain as he leans closer. I hold my breath in anticipation, my mind begging for his lips to brush mine, just once. I realize that’s irrational since he irritates the crap out of me but I’m no longer in control of my brain synapses. My body is focused on my wrists where he is holding them. The skin burns with heat under his touch.
I try not to look at him, but he is staring at me with the same inexplicable look of frustration on his face as before. As quickly as it started, the spell is broken. His broad shoulders stiffen and he pushes himself away from me. My body shudders at the loss of contact and warmth he emitted.
“Fuckkk,” he draws out, puzzled by the unexpected pull and tension happening between us. He runs his hands through his hair before interlacing them behind his head, standing at his full height and facing away from me.
I stand there, watching him. Confusion sets in from his erratic emotions, which are irritating me to the point of wanting to physically harm him now.
Asher turns around. I look down. His hands are clenched into hard fists. “Your innocence and lack of understanding is going to get you killed. It draws them and me to you like a god damn beacon,” he growls at me through a tight jaw.
“What?” I ask, not following a word he’s said.
Asher blows out a harsh breath. “This,” he motions between us, “is not happening so do us all a favor and just leave.” His voice is laced with an edge meant to intimidate me.
My throat constricts, making it impossible to speak. Unsure of what just happened, I push off the wall and brush past him in anger, heading to the table without a backward glance.
Once I reach the girls, Aria’s eyes soften in understanding. She grabs my hand. “Come on, girl. Let’s go dance our troubles away.”
I’ve been rubbing my eyes for what feels like hours and now I look like a raccoon. “Aria, help me get this crap off my face,” I whine as I stand at the sink in our attached bathroom.
She walks in and hands me the eye makeup removal pads. I gratefully take them after having showered and washed my face three times. We’re both in our pajamas, and all I want is to get into bed and crash.
“Did you have fun?” She hops on the counter, watching me as she brushes her teeth.
I shrug. “I did. I mean after the whole Asher incident.”
“Me too. I think even Kenna had a good time.” Aria pretends to faint.
I smile at her antics. “Did you end up getting Leo’s number?” The question is futile since I know she did.
Her face splits into a wide grin. “He and I have a date tomorrow evening,” she says around her toothbrush and then spits.
“What about you? I noticed quite a few hot guys buying you drinks tonight. You gonna make some calls?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
I let out a short laugh. “Maybe.” I sigh. I did get hit on a lot tonight. Take that, Asher St. Michael.
Aria just studies me for a minute. “I think you should. You need to have some fun. Forget about hot boy for a bit and just enjoy being a normal college girl, Eve,” she says before she heads out of the bathroom.
My eyes flick back to the mirror as I sigh, pleased that I look like myself again. I brush my teeth and hair
then turn out the light and head to bed.
“It feels so good to lie down.” I groan with contentment. “Those shoes killed me.”
Aria laughs. “You don’t look dead to me.”
I close my eyes and give in to the exhaustion that takes my body into a deep slumber.
4 Blue Flames
The grey clouds blanket the sky, folding over one another like a cluster of cotton balls. The damp air stifles my ability to breathe. I cross my arms for warmth, attempting to stop the trembles running through my body, partly due to the weather and partly because I know what awaits me.
I stand on the jagged wall of rocks, my white dress flowing around my body like cascading water. My bare feet are tender from the sharpness of the rocks; yet grateful for the occasional relief of the green moss crawling in patches on the path.
The unmoving trees project their anger at the approach of a stranger. The eyes of the forest are on me. The dark spirits watch, waiting in anticipation of my arrival. I sense their excitement. I hear their Welsh murmurs.
“Cartref merch Croeso duw.” They speak softly, welcoming me home.
From the outside, the castle is gloomy and lifeless. I stare at it with apprehension. My heart pounds with each movement forward. I know what he wants. He wants me. Without me, all is lost for him and his Dark Army.
I take a step toward the fortress then another and another. Each footstep takes me further away from the one who holds a piece of my heart. It’s the other piece of my heart that pulls me toward the stone prison in front of me. My eyes close in silent prayer I’m not too late.
Beginning my descent down the uneven path, I faintly hear his voice drifting to me, floating like a feather on the air, caressing my soul. The one my soul knows and hurts to be away from.
“Come back to me,” he whispers on the wind.
“I can’t,” I answer in a quiet voice, placing my hand over my heart to ease the ache of not being with him. This is my fate. I have to protect him.
Focused, I keep moving toward the castle. The voice on the wind reaches me again. “I will protect you, always,” he promises.
I believe him. I know he will come for me.
My eyes fly open as I wrench upright out of my bed. My heart pounds against my rib cage. The nightshirt I’m wearing is stuck to my sweat covered body. I run my hands over my face and through my hair. I look to my left and see Aria softly snoring in her bed.
The sunlight streams through the open window, providing only light, not warmth. I shiver at the room’s cool temperature. Exhaling brusquely, I get up to close the window then jump back into bed and pull the covers around my neck, cocooning myself in warmth and an unreal sense of security as I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling. I challenge my body to control the shaking state it’s in from remnants of the dream. I groan, aware it’s going to be a long day. I need coffee. I’m annoyed that I’m probably the only college student awake this early on a Saturday.
Standing in line, I wait for my caffeine fix while rubbing my temples and trying to ease my dream induced headache and general agitation caused by lack of sleep and the verbal tennis matches from yesterday.
“Hang over?” a smooth, seductive voice says from over my right shoulder.
Irritable and annoyed at the intrusion of my personal space, I turn to stare down the perpetrator as my eyes lock with a set of sea green ones.
I plaster on a fake smile. “No,” I say and turn back to place my order with the barista.
Smoldering good looks places a twenty on the counter and politely informs the barista he’ll pay for my order as well as his.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“Anything for a beautiful girl,” he attempts to charm.
I offer a brief smile and meander to the pick-up counter to wait for my café mocha.
He follows me then leans against the counter, looking relaxed and commanding at the same time. The good-looking bad boy has an amused smirk; arms crossed while he studies me.
I clear my throat. “Is there something I can do for you?” I adopt my best no nonsense tone.
He smiles as if he knows a secret I’m not privy to. It morphs into a light, intriguing laugh. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I’m Gage Gallagher,” he offers in a seductive tone meant to draw you in. Then he winks and offers his hand.
Tentatively, I place my hand in his, setting off a beautiful and genuine smile across his lips.
“No fan club today?” I question.
An eyebrow cocks up as he leans closer. “Envious?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Hardly,” I reply.
Sea green eyes twinkle with amusement. “Don’t fret, love. I have a feeling you and I are going to be very good friends,” he offers, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I wasn’t worried.” I fake indifference.
“So then the beautiful girl will share her name with the handsome stranger?” he muses.
“Eve Collins,” I say with caution stemming from my banter with Asher around my name.
Too-good-looking-for-his-own-good holds my hand securely between his, searching my face for something. Recognition takes over and he swallows hard, causing my eyes to focus on his sexy Adam’s apple. His scent is masculine, a combination of cigarettes and spice. The smell stirs something in me.
Gage looks edible too, dressed in all black similar to the day he was leaning on his car. Today, he’s more casual though in jeans, a v-neck t-shirt, and a long silver chain with a large silver cross hanging off it. Aria was right. He is yummy.
Placing a chaste kiss on the top of my hand, he cuts my gaping short. “Well, it’s a delight to meet you, Eve Collins,” he replies kindly.
I pull my hand back as the barista calls my name. I’m uncomfortable. There’s something off about him. It’s hot in here and my flight instincts are kicking in.
Snatching up my coffee, I turn to find Gage standing in my way of the exit. With my eyes fixated on the door, he smiles down at me but it seems strained.
“Eve.” He nods in a polite fashion.
“Gage,” I respond warily.
He winks, just standing there. Narrowing my eyes, I walk around him and push open the café doors. The light breeze causes a shudder to run through me as I curse myself for not wearing a jacket. I wrap my scarf around my neck tighter, making an effort to increase the flow of warmth to my body. It’s not working.
“Cold?” A deep, cocky voice greets me.
I look up to see Asher leaning against a black Aston Martin DB9, my dream car. Damn if he isn’t looking every bit as delicious as he normally does. I really need to get my head examined.
My lips form a tight line. “Why do you care?” It comes out harsher than I meant it too. Why does this guy get under my skin?
The unnerving guy holds his stance, his scrutiny still focused on me. I try to ignore the burning sensation his gaze causes as it settles into my skin. I’m definitely not cold anymore.
Asher breaks the awkward silence after a few moments. “Do I make you anxious, Eve?”
“No.” I shiver but for a different reason now. My name sounds like a prayer on his lips.
Nodding his head in understanding, he prowls over to me like a predator who has its prey in their trap. “You sure?” he whispers.
Holding my position, I lift my chin and attempt to show him he doesn’t affect me. “Yes.”
Asher stops in front of me, bends down and forces me to look him in the eye. My eyelids flutter just the tiniest bit at his body’s nearness to mine. Damn traitorous body.
The corners of his mouth lift smugly as he moves closer. So close I can feel his minty warm breath on my lips. Chuckling quietly, he takes off his jacket and my heart begins doing back flips. His shoulders are really broad. Slowly, he leans forward, wrapping his leather coat over my shoulders, engulfing me with warmth and his intoxicating scent.
His lips brush the tip of my ear and he whispers, “Breathe.”
As soon as the word i
s off his lips, I will my body not to convulse right there. Large hands grip my waist to steady me so I don’t fall and make a complete ass of myself.
Being this close to him is making me lightheaded. I sway, my body humming with a strange energy. I think I might just black out.
“S-sorry,” slips from my lips.
“I’ve got you,” he says, increasing the pressure of his hold.
His words set off a strange sense of déjà vu but it disappears, replaced by the bizarre need to stay in his strong, secure arms forever.
Asher’s face softens as he looks at me, almost as if he’s seeing me for the first time. I hold back the small sigh that begs to come out as he runs both his hands up my arms, steadying me before placing one on each side of my neck.
My eyes lift and lock with his. I swear he looks like he wants to kiss me. To be honest, it’s all I want him to do right now. We hold this position, time standing still, until I break the moment as my eyes flick to his arm, landing on the Celtic cross tattoo.
Awareness hits him that I’m concentrating on his tattoo and it changes his demeanor from warm and soft to cautious and on edge. His intense voice cuts through the silence.
“Let’s try this again. Like what you see, siren?” He drops his hands from me and steps back, cocking his head to the side. Gone is gentle Asher and in his place is the cocky jerk. I’m getting whiplash from all his mood swings.
“I’ve seen better,” I retort with a fake smile.
“So have I,” he shoots back as his eyes wander up my legs to my chest and then to my mouth.
“Whatever,” I say, rolling my eyes. “What are you even doing here? Are you following me?”
He points behind me to the café. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here to grab a coffee.”
Crap. I’m at the coffee shop. I groan. “I just, I mean, I meant. Well, I’m here most Saturdays and I’ve never seen you before, so...” Well, that was articulate, Eve.
He arches a brow. “Does that disappoint you?”
I scrunch my nose in annoyance. “No, that’s not what I meant. Would you please stop twisting my words for one second so I can think straight and perhaps be able to articulate clearly and somewhat verbosely.”