Dark Admirer (5 page)

She did awake, and found herself draped in the wingback chair before the hearth. Thank God she was fully dressed, and not bare breasted as she had feared. With shaking hands, she brushed her hair back and looked around the room with wild eyes.

She found him, sitting in the corner of the room, watching her with those beautiful eyes and that strange marked face. He was trembling. His hands shaking. Against the black wool of his coat rested strands of long blond hair that glistened in the glow of the firelight.

She studied the hair and the way his fingers trembled; noticed the way his Adam’s apple in his throat kept moving up and down. In those strained seconds of watching him, Eve swore she could hear the mad thumping of his heart beating against his ribs.

Let me in…
the words—
his words
—came rushing back to her, making her feel the same rush of sexual desire as she had earlier.

Their gazes collided, and Eve knew then that what she had experienced was not a dream.

Chapter Three

How had it happened? How had he allowed himself to succumb to the Siren’s call? She was forbidden to him. Lust was forbidden. Sex for him was a path to torture. Yet, he had not thought of that when he’d allowed himself into her mind. He had not been concerned with the punishment he would surely receive if his transgression with this woman was discovered. He had thought only of pleasure—and not just his—but hers as well.

His gaze darted to her chest, still labouring under her hurried breaths. He could see the rise and fall of her breasts through the thick cable sweater she wore. He could still see her bared, her breasts heavy and full, taunting him with forbidden fruit as he had held them in his hands, feeling their heavy weight as he lifted them, fondled them.

His own body was not yet under control. It was strange, the feeling. He had experienced lust. He’d had sex before. Had held a woman’s breast in his palm. But never had his body reacted in such a way. Never had he ached with pleasure. Never had he felt alive in every corner of his body. His cock, yes, it had felt alive, had pulsed with life, but never his body. Touching Eve had made him feel wholly alive, had made him aware of his entire being.

She watched him like a cornered animal watched a predator. “Who are you?” she asked and Anael did not miss the way her gaze quickly shifted to the left side of his face.

He couldn’t answer, of course. He was a pathetic mute, unable to communicate in the most primitive of ways. Instead, he stayed crouched down on his haunches, watching her, wishing her supple body was against his, wishing he had taken her breasts into his mouth and tasted her. Wishing she had not seen his face and shattered the beauty that had been weaving itself between them.

“Your name?” she asked again, trying to make him speak. Instead he held her gaze, willing her breathing to slow, hoping she would soon realise he meant her no harm. But she resisted his efforts, and instead began to leave the chair in a panic.

He would have gotten up and held her if he thought his presence so close to her wouldn’t terrify her. But his face…his face was not something that induced calm.

She was pacing, and he watched her. Frustration mounted in him as he tried to make his mouth work—all to no avail. He searched for pen and paper, but found none nearby. So instead, he schooled his powers, and tried to mentally soothe her.

But going deep into her mind was something he shouldn’t do. Not when he was so out of control. It was a violation of her privacy, and a privilege he had no right to.

Knowing what he had to do, he stood up and moved along the wall, taking care not to frighten her. She watched him, her eyes wary. Those lovely green eyes never left his face, and shamed, he turned his head so she could not see the markings he bore.

Quietly he slipped around the corner, back into the dark hall that would lead him to the alley. The dog followed him, silently sniffing at his boots. Opening the door, he prepared himself for the blast of frigid air that greeted him. The cold ruffled his hair and snow flew into his eyes. Burying his chin into the collar of his coat, he stepped into the alleyway. Her scent still perfumed the air and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, pulling her into him one last time. He would never forget the scent of her, or the way it changed when her blood had heated beneath his palms.

“Wait.”

He froze at the sound of her voice so close behind him. He didn’t turn around because he knew their bodies would touch. He also knew that she would see him up close, and he despised knowing she would look upon the sins that had been marked into his flesh. Even though she would not recognise the angelic script that marred his face, she would be frightened nonetheless, and he couldn’t have that. He didn’t want this woman’s fear, or her repulsion.

“It’s cold outside and you haven’t anything to protect your hands.”

He looked down at his fists, his knuckles already reddened from the cold. But he felt none of it. Just a curious heat that was starting in his chest. A heat he dared not let consume him.

“Let me call you a cab, it’s the least I can do. You…you brought me inside when you could have just left me out there. You kept me safe when you could have hurt me.”

He turned then and trapped her gaze with his.
I would never hurt you. Never.

But she couldn’t hear his thoughts and his useless voice wasn’t working. So, instead, he reached for her and cupped her warm cheek in his cold palm, hoping she would realise that he meant her no harm. That hurting her would never cross his mind. That he probably would protect her from anyone or anything, even God himself, if he could.

“It’s freezing rain. The electricity, it’s already flickered. Once it goes out, you’ll be in the dark, and nothing will be open. Where will you find shelter? Something to eat? You…I…can’t let you go out there like that.”

And as if the Heavens had heard her, the wires above them groaned, and suddenly the world went black. Around them, white snowflakes fell down. Not even the moonlight was enough to reach them in the back alley. It was utterly black, as if a silk sheet that had been draped overtop them.

Anael felt his body start to relax—start to respond to the woman standing before him. In the darkness, she could perhaps forget his face. In the darkness they needn’t talk. In the black cover of night he could be everything she had ever wanted, or ever hoped for.

“Come with me,” she whispered, reaching for his hand which still held her cheek. “It’s warm inside, and I’ve already lit the candles.”

“Darkness
,” he said, trying to get the words out. “
Let me admire you in the dark, where you cannot see me, only feel me.”
But she took him by the hand and led him down the familiar hall back into the store where soft light flickered from the ivory candles she had lit.

Everything in the room was softly illuminated. Even his horrific face.

Darkness. He found himself praying for it.

* * * *

Eve watched the tall man slide down into a crouch, knees to chest, long arms wrapped around his thick legs which were encased in faded blue denims.

What a strange way to sit, as if he were a bird perched on a tree limb. A black raven, she thought, taking in his black silky hair that was long and wind blown and totally seductive. Even his wool pea coat was black, and so too were the heavy boots he was sporting. And the tattoos, a voice from somewhere whispered in her mind, those monstrous facial tattoos were black, too.

She stared at him through the flickering candles that were scattered about the store. Cast in the dancing golden glow of candlelight, the side of his face that was unmarked had an unearthly beauty that robbed her of thought, and indeed, breath. Handsome did not begin to describe the stranger’s face. And the way he looked at her, as if he were undressing her with those strange, evocative eyes made her shiver. She had never seen eyes that colour; liquid pools that told of exotic places and sensual delights. Even his mouth was sculpted perfection, an invitation to tease and entice, a creation designed to provide every source of carnal delight known to man. But one had only to shift their eyes an inch away from the sheer perfection of him, to see the scarred darkness that lay beneath the black hair he used to shield his face.

He was shielding it now, she realised, as he lowered his head and averted his face from her gaze. No longer could she see the strange symbols that covered half his face.

It was as if someone had drawn an imaginary line directly down the front of his face, purposely destroying half of his beauty, while leaving the other side unmarred, a side he would have to confront every time he looked in the mirror. A side that silently whispered, ‘this was how you used to be’.

Eve felt a tremor shiver its way through her body. It had not been her words she heard, but another’s.

The man from her dream. The man with the velvety dark voice that hinted at passion and sex and mysterious places. A voice that called to her mind and her body. A voice she knew she would never forget.

A voice she feared belonged to the man watching her from against the wall.

* * * *

She stares at you, as if you were a monster. As if she could read the markings and know of your sins. See how she stands before you, her eyes lingering on what you once were. See how it draws her in, the angelic beauty you once possessed. Now see what pleasure your sins invoke. Watch her fear, her repulsion. Watch the way she turns from your marked face with apathy and disgust.

Watch what you desire, what you long for, but can never, ever have.

Anael closed his eyes and lowered his head, shielding the punishment and curse he carried on his face. He tried to block out his thoughts, the sounds of his voice in his head. He tried not to think of the woman looking at him. He tried to forget the scent of her skin, the feel of his hands roaming—
following
—her voluptuous curves as she pressed against him.

Instead, he tried to remember the Abyss. The darkness, the dampness. For seventy generations he had suffered in the dark and cold. For so many years he had endured the degradation thrust upon him by the Incubi and Succubae in that dark pit of punishment. Those demons had raped him, had robbed him of the ability to feel desire, to see beauty, to long for a touch. They had taken from him, his body, his mind, his feelings.