The Eye of the Wolf (13 page)

Will swallowed with difficulty.
He grabbed his bag from the ground near his feet and walked around Mikayla. He
couldn’t look at her. He had to put space between them at that moment because
even though he knew their paths were meant to intersect, he also knew that
there wasn’t a future between them. There could never be a future between them.
His life wouldn’t permit it.

Mikayla watched him walk
towards the Jeep with his camera and bag in hand. A mixture of emotions flooded
through her, all of which she was hard-pressed to describe. She wanted him to
come back. She wanted him to be near, but she also wanted him to go away, with his
devastatingly good looks and kind eyes. She wanted him to disappear and take
these unknown feelings with him and leave her in peace. She wanted him.

Will reached into the Jeep and
turned the ignition. The Jeep roared to life. The radio blasted from the
speakers across the hilltop, telling the world about loves lost and loves found
through the voice of Faith Hill. He paused, music echoing in the deepening eve.
The yearning pulled at him and destroyed that voice that told him it was wrong.

Will crossed the grass to
Mikayla and took her gently into his arms. He cupped her right hand in his left
and wrapped his right arm around her slight waist. He pulled her close until
their bodies brushed together and all he could smell was that pleasant scent of
vanilla mixed with salt and fresh air. It inundated his senses. He leaned his
head down so his breath was gentle against the curve of her neck.

Mikayla swallowed stiffly,
allowing herself to be drawn in. She had promised herself she would not allow
him to get close, but yet, in his arms, she felt as if she was walking on air.
And then, he began to sing.

“In my dreams, I always see you
soar above the sky. In my heart, there will always be a place for you for all
my life. I’ll keep a part of you with me, and everywhere I am, there you’ll
be.” His voice was soft, just a whisper, but it was perfect.

Mikayla felt her heart melt.
She allowed herself to be drawn into him, into the moment, where the world
ceased to turn and they were one, at least for that moment. It was the most
romantic moment of her life. There had never been one like it before, nor, did
she think there would be one after. For that moment, she allowed herself to be
drawn into a fairytale of the handsome prince and happily ever after.

Will pulled back and stared
into her eyes, seeing the wall crumble at his feet, seeing his own emotions
reflected back as if in a mirror. As the closing strains of the song filled the
deepening twilight, Will brushed his lips against Mikayla’s.

It was the faintest whisper of
a kiss, barely there, but her heart stopped in her throat and her fingers
twined in the ends of his hair along his neck. Their joined hands dropped down
at their sides and tightened their grip. Warmth spread throughout her body. Her
head was light and the only thing she was aware of was his nearness. His body
gently brushing hers as they swayed in the evening breeze.

Then, with the final strain
fading into George Thurgood’s “Old Time Rock’n’Roll”, the moment passed and the
world was suddenly there again.

Will pulled away from Mikayla
and walked her to the Jeep. No words were spoken, no sounds made. Her feet
slowly settled back onto the earth, back into the world where she was merely a
historian, and he was a passing fancy who would be gone soon. Back into a world
where she was not wanted, nor was she beautiful. Back into a world where men
like Will Chambers enjoyed a mindless distraction and then quickly became bored
with the distraction.

Will helped her into the Jeep
and then, took his time walking around the front of the vehicle. Time to give
his racing heart a chance to slow, and time to allow his breath to even out. He
had kissed women before but never before had he felt that intense of a reaction
to any woman from a simple brush of lips against lips. He had to stop. He had
to draw the line, but he didn’t want to draw the line.

As Will climbed into the Jeep,
he looked at Mikayla sitting in the passenger seat, buckled in for the bouncy
ride down the mountain. She stared at the stars above them, lost in thoughts of
her own. He didn’t want to draw the line. He wanted to know her. He wanted, for
the briefest moment, to be someone other than who he was.

As the Jeep revved to life,
both lost themselves in secluded thoughts, secret from one another. Both were
so lost in thoughts of their own, neither noticed the red glow raise into the
darkness and briefly flare before fading into the trees. Neither noticed the
slight crunch of dried leaves underfoot.

Will shifted from neutral into
first gear and headed back down the mountain. Rock and roll echoed off of the
trees as his headlights guided them through the tropical forest back to the
house beneath the Secluded City. He pulled to a stop in front of the small
house and waited for her to open the door and step inside before disappearing
into the darkness.

Mikayla pushed open the door
and then paused. She had already thanked him for a wonderful afternoon, not
sure how to put what she was feeling into words. She hoped he understood at
least half of what she was feeling. Mikayla turned and looked at him, sitting
in his Jeep with his blond hair silver in the bright moonlight. She stepped to
the edge of the porch.

“Will,” Will cocked his head to
the side and studied her, but he said nothing. “Thank you for today; I needed this
break.”

Then, she turned and headed
inside. The door closed firmly, and the light above the door winked out leaving
Will in darkness. He shifted into drive and drove away, into the darkness, away
from the house beneath the Secluded City.

As Will’s Jeep disappeared into
the darkness surrounding the Secluded City, its headlights making a path up the
hill, another car, this one without its headlights moved up the street
following the Jeep.

He had followed them all day.
He had sat in the trees, hidden by the lush foliage as they had sat in the sun.
He had seen the dance in the moonlight. He had seen the kiss. He had seen her
discover the carving on the ancient stone. A carving he had spent years
searching for, and he knew she would decipher it just as she was deciphering
Malachi’s diary. And  he knew there must be an end. Soon.

The dark car without its lights
crept up the hill towards the Secluded City. The glow of his cigarette sparked
through the night, tracing a line of dread into the night. Soon, the fire in
the tower would be lit and the Wolf would await his servant’s arrival.

         
Mikayla sipped her Cabernet,
lost in her thoughts. The ocean breeze ruffled her long tresses and whipped
them through the air. The scents of flowers, ocean breezes, and garlic filled
the air. The outdoor café where she had chosen to eat everyday since her
arrival was peaceful. It wasn’t frequented much by the tourists, at least not
the tourists she had flown over with. It was peaceful, not harried, not like
Washington where things were always moving and moving fast. Life moved at its
own pace in Amor, a pace that hadn’t changed in 900 years.

At a table on the other side of
the outdoor patio, a young couple nuzzled and whispered sweet nothings. He was
dark, like someone who spent hours each day in the sun, working, not tanning.
His hands were strong, capable, yet gentle as they stroked the lighter, smaller
hand of the woman beside him. His dark hair was streaked with sun, gold in the
dying light of the day. His dark eyes only saw the woman beside him. To him
there was nothing else except her. His face was lined and weathered, but there
was a youthfulness to his smile and his eyes.

The woman he snuggled close
looked years younger than he but was probably within the same age range. She
was delicate, but there was a strength in her that shone through like a guiding
light, a beacon to draw him near. Her hair was the same shade as his but lacked
the streaks of light. Instead, it shone like velvet, changing from black to deep
purple with the changes of light and the movement of her head. Her almond
shaped eyes lit with laughter as he brushed his lips against her cheek. Behind
the laughter in her eyes was a hopefulness, a promise of the next day and the
day after that. She gripped his hand on the table in her own, and they were
linked, a link that wouldn’t be broken. It was a touching sight, even to a
person jaded by love.

Mikayla
glanced briefly around, looking for Will. He had surprised her the last few
evenings by showing up just as her dinner was being served by Stephen, the
waiter for the patio. The first night, she had been annoyed, wanting time to
herself. The second night, she had at first been annoyed and then enjoyed his
presence, his stories of life on Amor as he was growing up. The third night she
had looked for him, not expecting him, and was pleasantly surprised when he
arrived to join her for dinner. He had walked her home that night along the
city streets singing traditional songs of Amor in Greek and then French. He had
left her at her door and disappeared into the darkness that descended on the
island once the sun went down.

Now, here she was, on the
fourth night, hoping he would show up again and disappointed that Will wasn’t
there to enjoy the beautiful sunset and cool breezes that promised heat and sun
of the Mediterranean spring the next day. She frowned to herself at the thought
that she wanted him to be there. Mikayla was an independent woman who didn’t
need the companionship of a man or anyone. She looked again at the lovers
across the patio and smiled. It was hard not to smile at them even when someone
was as jaded about that thing called love as she.

It
wasn’t that she didn’t believe in love, she mused, as she swirled the dark red
liquid in her glass. It was that it had never been experienced, at least not
like the story books said it should have been. Maybe she was a romantic hidden
deep down, but she had never felt tingles and wild passion for a man. She had
never found herself lost in thought about a man at odd moments in her day or
incapable of concentrating on a task at hand. She had never dreamed of a man
and what their next stolen moments would be like together. She had never
received roses or been the recipient of those sweet nothings that the young man
in the corner whispered to his fresh-faced lover who giggled and nuzzled
closer.

She
wished for it, once upon a time, when fairy tales came true. She had wished for
it desperately, and then, at some point in her early adult years, Mikayla
realized that love wasn’t necessarily like the storybooks said for everyone, if
it was for anyone.

Mikayla
sipped from her glass and watched the teal colored water of the Mediterranean
roll in on the shore not far from the patio where she sat. The sound of the waves
crashing was lolling, relaxing. She sighed and closed her eyes, allowing the
ambiance of the small Italian restaurant to engulf her. Her thoughts returned
to the lovers across the patio who were now wrapped in one another’s arms as if
the world were about to end and this was their last moment on earth to be with
one another, as if there were no one else on the face of the earth who was as
important as the other. As she watched, the young man slipped something from
his pocket and onto the ring finger of his lover. The woman’s eyes glistened,
and then, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. He held on just as
tight with tears streaking his own face.

Mikayla wondered what it would
be like to feel that intensity for another, to forget the world for just one
moment and exist solely for another. As she thought Will’s face slipped into
her mind’s eye. Inwardly, Mikayla groaned at his presence in her inner musings,
but she didn’t dismiss his face from her memory. He was pleasant to look at,
she had to admit that, even if he did drive her crazy with his easy-going
attitude about life and work. She smiled to herself as she pictured the warmth
of his smile, his perfect white teeth, and the gleam in his eye as he tried to
pull the wool over her. His gray eyes would laugh at her and at some secret
that she didn’t really understand. The sound of his laughter warmed her every
time she heard it. Then, there was his touch…Mikayla laid her hand on her
heart, sipped her wine, and kept her eyes closed. She could almost feel his
hand on hers as he pointed out something in one of the infernal texts they had
been working through or as he pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear when
they were working together in close proximity. He always smelled of sunshine
and the ocean.

Will made her mouth go dry, her
palms sweat, and her pulse race. Mikayla didn’t really understand the reaction
she had to him except to say to herself that she was lonely and enjoying the
attention, attention she had never received before. Perhaps that was why Will
slipped into her every waking thought, the scent and feel of him, because no
one had ever been like Will, adventurous and mysterious. Men had come and gone,
they would never be more than passing diversions; they had never been the type
of men to make a woman’s pulse scramble unless she enjoyed hearing the latest
stock quotes or tennis score in the Club’s Open. They never stopped her quest
for the success that was just beyond her fingertips.

Will
was more than any of the others. He was more than Alex. He had a free spirit
that matched her own. He understood the need to comprehend the actions of the
past in order to reach the future. He viewed the world through a camera lens
and saw its possibilities instead of its probabilities.  It was almost as
if he understood her. He made her pulse quicken just with a thought, a touch, a
look. Will made Mikayla feel alive; whether he intended to or not, he did.