The Allotter:The Threads of Destiny (5 page)

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  He stood as the sound of tearing fabric disrupted the silence around him. Adjusting his feet, he clutched her slackened body closer to his, as wings emerged through his now tattered shirt. White feathers unfurled and stretched and adjusted to the atmosphere as the light crystals of snowfall momentarily stopped and suspended for a fraction of a second in the frosty air. Nostrils flaring, he leaned into her hair and closed his eyes in ecstasy, he had missed the smell of her. His mouth watered as he took in another long drought of her scent. Clean and fresh with a hint of spice, her scent consumed him. He sighed and looked down at her. He had a feeling she was going to be more of a problem than they originally thought she would be. She clearly had no clear recollections yet.
With a slight bend to his knees, Kratos pushed off and ascended with speed and grace into a vortex of mist and cloud that had appeared when his wings had appeared. His pearly white wings undulated with grace and experience as he pressed her slender frame closer, causing an exhalation of warm, sweet, breath to skate across his collarbone. He groaned and rolled his eyes heavenward as the prospect of having to deal with this knew complication sent a chill of foreboding down his spine. He had to be in close proximity of her, guard her, and not touch her. It would be torture.

  She looked the same as she always had, except she was
…mortal. He was fascinated by her emotional state. So much emotion in such a petite package. A lusciously petite package. He was going to have to keep her safe. He had not anticipated that he would have to keep her safe from himself.

  The cold wind blowing in his face did nothing to cool his heated curiosity over her. His objective was simple: Find her, bring her back, keep her safe, and slowly reintegrate her. Seemed simple enough. He squeezed her tighter as her body involuntarily shuddered from the below freezing temperature he was flying through. He thought his body temperature would keep her warm enough, but apparently he was not paying enough attention, her curves pressed against him was a serious distraction. He was not thinking straight. As he descended lower, he chastised himself for forgetting that her human body couldn
’t handle such an extreme change in temperature.

  His abrupt landing onto the rooftop jarred her awake, causing her eyes to fly open as a scream began to erupt.
“Shhh. Sleep.” he whispered as he cradled her body and ran his thumb across her forehead, causing her head to loll back. He needed to get her into a comfortable environment. She could not be rushed into reality yet, her mind was still too fragile.

  He carried her through a dark tunnel as the churning and whistling wind abruptly died off, revealing a door in the shadows. Nudging it open with his foot, Kratos walked into the apartment, heading straight for a room in the back. As he passed the living space, the furniture rippled into his periphery, the once empty space filled with brown leather and mahogany furniture. He shrugged his shoulders as he approached the room, wings quickly retracting into his back as a cream-colored, button-down shirt slid with fluid grace, unscathed upon his muscular shoulders.

  Adjusting her weight from one arm to the next, he slid his strong arms into the sleeves and in one fluid motion; he turned and gently sat back upon the bed, adjusting her light weight across his chest. He closed his eyes. He didn’t need to sleep, but he had a feeling he was going to need rest once she awakened.

  He relished her body against his as memories assailed him as he thought about the past. Their past. Would she remember him? 

  Her body trembled, so he rubbed her arms and hugged her to him. He knew it was short-lived; she would awaken and demand answers. He simply couldn’t give them. The answers were not his to give, but one thing was certain; he couldn’t let her go again. She belonged to him.

Chapter 6

She was hovering just inches from the ground. Pale shades of blue gossamer fabric were waving slowly, fluidly, in the empty space around her. There was no wind. No air. No sound but for the tinkle of what sounded like hundreds of minuscule bells. Her hands rose up slowly, gracefully catching strands of silken threads through her fingers. The threads undulated like a rogue spider web drifting on a breeze. Only, there was no breeze. As her finger glided over their softness, a harmonious sound wafted off of the silken threads. Evie turned her head to a noise in the distance. Mountains and trees began to form like a water color painting. She smiled, but abruptly the colors began to change, morphing into drab and indeterminate shades of misery and sadness.
I think it is time for you to awaken.
A familiar woman's voice broke into her dream.
Her feet hovered over the green earth. She tried to touch the brightly covered green moss with her toes, but failed.
"Evie, Wake up." A familiar voice, a man’s voice, was laced with urgency.
 
She tried to shake her head, succeeding in only causing her head to gently sway from side to side, causing her curls to cascade down her shoulders. No force what so ever
.
"Evie wake up." The strong male voice was demanding. A voice she wanted to hear from a man she wanted to see and feel. Feel! Her head jerked suddenly, once then a second time. Then...
"Evie!" Her body arced off of the bed, causing her to almost fall to the floor until strong arms encircled her waist from behind. Evie looked around, her eyes adjusting to the light and her surroundings. Her head pounded as she carefully brought her hands to it, shielding her eyes from the light in the room.
"Don’t even say I had a seizure. Just…don't." Evie’s voice was rough, almost unrecognizable to her own ears. Closing her eyes, she laid her head back against something warm and hard. She turned her head around to find herself against a large and well muscled male chest. It was the stranger. He was sitting against the headboard with her back to his chest. She turned, her palms pressing on his pecs for leverage. One of his arms fell off of her hip as she turned while the other arm stayed hooked around her waist, hand perilously close to her ass. He fisted that hand, white knuckles straining with the apparent urge to cup her bottom. His cream-colored dress-shirt was rolled up at his forearms, but open revealing his golden skin and six-pack abs. He was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to say or do something.
"The least you can do is introduce yourself if we're gonna find ourselves in this position." She said softly as she looked at his lips, and then his eyes. She was inches from those fathomless blue eyes, waiting for his response. Why was he so familiar and why did she have the urge to rub up against him like a cat in heat?
His eyes were focused on her lips, as if contemplating something. He shrugged as if he made a decision. "Kratos is what I am called. It is my name." He winced as if he knew how abnormal he sounded. She licked her lips, instigating a small sigh from him.

 
“I should be freaking out right now. I don’t know you and I didn’t know Sid or whatever it was you called him. For some reason, I feel safe with you.” She pushed off of him and stood, her feet wobbly underneath her. He sat forward to steady her, gripping both of her hips. Pushing his hands away, she wiggled out of his hold. Letting his hands fall to his sides, he sat and waited for her questions. He did not have to wait for long.

 
“Where are we right now? Is this your house?” She began to walk around the room and inspect  her surroundings. The bedroom was large, the furniture cherry wood, and the walls a pale blue color. She ran her palm across the smooth surface of the cherry wood bureau. The room was sparse, no pictures or mementos as if he had just moved in.

 
“Where do you think we are?” he cryptically asked as he sat on the edge of the bed buttoning his shirt. She stopped in her perusal and stared at him curiously for a moment. His eyes never wavered from her as he sat very still. Inhumanly still. Interesting.

  She walked over to the window, pulled the curtain back, and sucked in a breath as she stared out of the window. She was in a city and was extremely high up! She turned to him in surprise.

  “We are in Boston?” Her question high pitched and shocked. “What floor are we on?” She asked as she turned to stare at the miniscule street below, hundreds of people milling about like ants on an ant hill.

 
“Boston.” He hesitated, “we are on the eightieth floor.” His words were chosen with a little too much care. Eyes narrowed, she scrutinized him.

  Evie looked down at herself. Jeans and green turtleneck were still on. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“I need a bathroom.”

  Gesturing with a nod towards the door,
“You are free to do as you need or want. You don’t need to ask me or tell me.” He continued to sit quietly as he folded his hands together in his lap. He rolled his shoulders once, as if stretching the exhaustion from his body, or maybe readying his muscles to strike with predatory speed. She couldn’t quite tell. As she slowly walked to the bedroom door and opened it, she looked at him, waiting to see if he was testing her. He was not. He didn’t even blink, let alone move, he was still unnaturally still.

  As she walked out of the bedroom, her mouth fell open as she stopped dead in her tracks. The apartment they were in was massive, and clearly a bachelor pad. Loft style in appearance, the kitchen sported stainless steel appliances and the living space was crowded with dark, buttery brown leather furniture. As she padded down the corridor, having no idea where the bathroom was, she felt his eyes upon her. She stopped and glanced at him to find him in the bedroom doorway, his large frame engulfing it, as he watched her. She hadn
’t even heard him. She stared at him, from his feet to his head, settling on his eyes, a question in her own. He smiled and pointed beyond the kitchen. 

“There is a bathroom just beyond the kitchen. There is also a bathroom off of the bedroom you were just in but you seemed to be in quite a hurry to be out of my proximity.”

  Wrinkling her nose at him in defiance, she hurriedly walked past the kitchen, finding the small bathroom. She walked in and locked the door, wondering how she would make heads or tails of her situation. Two extremely attractive men, men who were unreal and out of her league wanted her for something. What that something was, she could not imagine. She stood and turned the hot water on. Splashing her face, she mentally ticked off possibilities of importance. She was a nurse, check. She was intelligent, check. She was independent, check. She was
… she was… What was she?

  Staring at her reflection, her eyes were bloodshot and dry. She leaned into the mirror and scrutinized herself. Her pupils dilated at her movement, then equalized. She pulled her bottom lid down on her right eye, then her left. Blowing out a disappointed puff of hair, Evie mentally shook her head and mumbled to herself. I am ordinary, meaning nothing extraordinary, right?

Opening the bathroom door, she walked out to find Kratos drying his hands off with a towel while water boiled in a kettle on the stove. Two mugs were set on the brown marble counter. Plopping a tea bag into each mug, he glanced up at her.

 
“Are you hungry?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, his muscles straining and bunching in response.

 
“No, not right now. First, I wanna know everything. Not just cryptic messages and shit. I wanna know why you and that psychopath Sid or whatever it was you called him, think I am so important. Then, I wanna speak to my mother.” She leaned against the far end of the cold marble counter, crossed her arms with defiance, and waited.

   He seemed amused by her bravado. He smirked and shook his head.
“Drink some tea while I start from the beginning. I will attempt to tell you as safely as I can.” As he poured the steaming and boiling water into the mugs, he peeked at her.

 
“What do you mean when you say ‘safely’ tell me? Why would it be unsafe and to whom would it be unsafe for?” She was disturbed by his statement. He dropped a lump of sugar and a spoon into her tea, poured a splash of milk into it and stirred as he walked over to her. Lifting her hand up and placing the hot cup into it, he pressed his hands gently around hers.

 
“Have a seat and we can talk. Ok?” He held her gaze, his head leaning towards hers. She nodded once, stepped back, and walked towards the couch. Sitting on the very edge she startled to see that he was already sitting next to her. She hadn’t even heard his movements. She slid away from him a space. How could he move so fast? He did not acknowledge her discomfort.

 
“Have you thought about the idea that you may not be able to handle the truth just yet? You have had a few episodes that were rather dangerous to your health. Why do you think they happened?” His question caught her off guard. She had anticipated truth and answers from him, not questions. She looked into her mug and frowned.

 
“You answer my questions with questions? What the hell kind of game are you playing with me?” her voice shook with anger and frustration.

 
“It is not a game I play with you. I am trying to ascertain how much information your mind can safely handle right now. That is all I’m doing.” He lifted his hands in the air in a show of surrender then took her hands into his. “Evie, take a hot shower and think about what you want to ask me. You know what questions you can safely ask.” When she was about to shake her head in refusal, he gently squeezed her hands. “Don’t argue with me. You know you need to clear your head and think before you ask any of your questions. Take a shower, collect your thoughts, and maybe even sleep a bit. You will feel much better.”  She begrudgingly realized she was not going to get anywhere with him at the moment. She stood and began to walk back towards the room she awakened in as he told her, “Everything you need is in there.” She waved noncommittally back at him with one hand as the other slammed the door behind her.