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Authors: Jennifer Shea

BOOK: Blood In The Stars
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Otherwise, the evening passed by as well as could be expected of any blind, first date. Daria couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much.

“So, why did you join a matchmaking service?” Daria finally asked. “You don’t look like you need one.”

“The same goes for you.” He laughed at her frown and then his demeanor turned serious. “I could tell you it’s because I’m too busy, that it’s easier to have someone else do the legwork. But the truth is, I’m looking for
her
.” He dismissed her confusion with a wave of his hand. “The one. My other half. Whatever you want to call it.”

How charming
. This man believed in finding a woman who was his other half. She didn’t think people today still believed in that sort of thing.

“And you think a matchmaking service will help you?” she asked skeptically. When he shrugged, she added, “Have you found her? Or a potential?”

His expression took on a faraway cast, and a tender smile crossed his lips. When he turned his dreamy eyes on her, Daria’s heart fluttered. “She’s out there.”

She swallowed, suddenly warm down to her toes. This guy could seduce women with one glance. If he kept staring at her like that, she’d invite him back to her place, against her better judgment.

She quickly excused herself to go to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.” She gave him a bright smile so there’d be no question she was having a good time.

Compose yourself. Calm down
. No need to get too worked up over this guy. The date was going well, but if they always went so well, she would have cancelled this silly service by now, because she’d have already met the perfect guy for her.

Almost too perfect.

That was the problem. He seemed too good to be true. Did good-looking, attentive,
considerate
men even exist in this day and age? More importantly, if they existed, would she be lucky enough to meet one?

Only when they wanted something.

That had to be it. He was trying to get into her pants. What other reason could he possibly have to be so nice? She wasn’t beautiful or even pretty. On a good day, she could pass for cute.

He probably had a perfect body, too, while hers was only passable. In fact, what
wasn’t
perfect about him? Guys like him didn’t go for girls like her. She needed to keep reminding herself of this or she’d only have disappointment and heartache for company later.

Daria sighed and stared in the mirror, checking her makeup and then her teeth. She straightened her sweater and moved her hair behind her shoulders only to pull it back to the front to frame her face.

Her heart thundered in her chest. If he kept gazing at her as he had during dinner, she’d melt into a puddle on the floor. She had to get a grip and stay in control. The last thing she wanted was to be taken advantage of. Her feelings were fragile enough these days. Daria groaned, remembering all the bad dates she had had lately.

Still, she couldn’t stop the butterflies in her stomach. Not that she expected a second date. Lightning didn’t strike twice in a night. But in her heart, a small ember of hope flared at the possibility of a second date.

She inhaled a deep breath to fortify herself. An invisible feather seemed to scratch her throat. Then she sniffed. Her eyes widened and she ran to the door.

Smoke seeped through the crack in the doorway and hints of shadowed flickers gyrated on the other side. She reached for the knob and then stopped, realizing she might burn herself. Daria peeled off her sweater and wrapped it around her hand before testing the knob.

Locked.

A cold wave of fear washed over her as her heart sank. She tested it again. It didn’t move. How could the door be locked when this wasn’t a private washroom?

She jiggled it a third time and when it still didn’t give way, she gave up and pounded on the door. “Help! I’m locked inside. Help!”

She slammed her fists against the wood, oblivious to the heat burning her hands. The dull thump of each desperate whack faded against the noise and screams on the other side.

People were fleeing for their lives and she was locked inside a bathroom. She couldn’t die here. She wouldn’t.

Why hadn’t the fire alarm sounded? Where were the sprinklers?

Her head snapped back. Two sprinkler heads hung from the ceiling but neither gave signs that they intended to prepare for Noah’s ark. Daria turned on a faucet. Then she wrenched out a stack of paper towels and dipped them into the water.

She was not going to die here. Repeating it to herself helped. There were so many things she still needed to do. The laundry waited for her at home and she never finished reviewing the files for tomorrow’s big meeting.

Suddenly, her mind blanked. She was about to roast in a bathroom and all she thought about were cleaning and work?

“Help!” she cried again, her voice feebler this time. “I’m locked inside.”

She tried to kick the door, but the heel of her sandal broke instead. She slumped against the sink and pressed the wet paper towels to her mouth and nose to keep the smoke inhalation to a minimum.

“Help me!”

I never got to fall in love.

Chapter 3

He didn’t know who screamed first.

Someone from the back of the restaurant cried, ‘
fire!
’ and pandemonium ensued. People shrieked and ran for the front door but Jason didn’t even notice the noise. Only one thing was on his mind.

Daria. She was still in the bathroom. The realization hit him like a kick in the gut. Dread clawed his stomach and he leapt from his chair and ran to the back. He swam against the tide of people as tables and chairs overturned in the mad dash to get outside. Jason struggled around the customers, pushing them toward the exit as he waded to the back.

At the end of the hallway, flames licked the walls of both restroom doors. He glanced around quickly. Not an electrical fire. His eyes shot to the ceiling. No water from the sprinklers. His jaw clenched.

A supernatural fire.

As if answering his thought, a flame dislodged from the wall and stretched its red-orange appendage to him.

“I will crush you,” Jason hissed, an energy ball forming in his hand.

A distant cackle faded into silence as the flame retreated, but it remained on the walls and engulfed the door. He squelched the ball in his fist as he narrowed his eyes against the fire. A jinn. The fire demon had no physical body and was instead made up of smokeless flames. It had come for Daria, but wouldn’t dare touch him for fear of retaliation.

“Daria!”

“Jason?” came a muffled voice behind the door.

“Stand back!”

He rammed the door with his shoulder. The solid wood gave way under his onslaught. He smelled burnt cotton as the flame caught his clothes, but with one sweep of his hand they subsided.

Daria leaned against the sink and relief flooded her eyes. She stumbled to him. He caught her as she fell.

“Jason?”

“You’re safe now,” he assured.

Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms and ran from the bathroom. Smoke filled the small restaurant and the fire inched toward the bar, where bottles of alcohol lined the wall for display. Sirens blared in the distance.

Escaping through the front door was out of the question. The cops would ask how they’d remained unscathed, and why Daria had been locked in the bathroom in the first place.

He turned back around and strode through the kitchen and out the back door. They emerged in an alleyway. Sounds of a fire truck closed in and he scanned the area for a place to sit down. He settled for two concrete steps that led to the back door of an unknown establishment.

Why did he only have the chance to hold her in alleyways? He sighed. At least she had thrown her arms around his neck for support. He liked the way she held on to him and wished he could hold her like this always and never let her go.

But I can’t
.

“Daria, we’re outside. It’s safe.”

She had buried her face in his shoulder and reluctantly peeled away to peek at him with one eye. When she had ascertained they were really outside, she sagged against him. She opened her mouth to speak but then a violent fit of coughing stopped her.

Jason frowned. Smoke inhalation. He did the only thing he could. He pressed his lips to her temple and whispered, “Sleep now.”

Her hazel eyes suddenly flared, recognition lighting them briefly before they closed in slumber.

He set her down gently and then picked up each of her hands. The side of her palms had second-degree burns. He placed his hands an inch from hers. Slowly, warmth spread from his palms and a brilliant white beam shone down on her injuries. A few seconds later, he removed his hands and verified her wounds had healed.

Then he tenderly framed his hands over her throat and repeated the act, trailing them over her chest to make sure he had removed any ill effects from the fire. He watched her inhale a deep breath and smiled to himself.

Jason cradled her in his arms, enjoying the way her head rested on the slope of his shoulder. He picked up her hand and kissed her palm, his heart aching to think she had almost died tonight. Pressing his cheek to her forehead, he breathed in the floral scent of her shampoo.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” he whispered.

When would he have the chance to say the words to her face? Not tonight, not when they still hadn’t finished their date.

“Daria,” he called, shaking her awake. “Wake up. You’re safe now.”

She stirred. Then her eyes widened and she sat up, whipping her head around in panic.

“You’re safe,” he repeated. “We’re outside behind the restaurant.”

She blinked rapidly and squinted at him. He headed off the question forming in her mind. “You fainted as I was carrying you out. Everything is fine now.” Then before she could argue otherwise, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I was so scared. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Jason patted her hair and stroked her back. Gradually, the tension in her body eased.

Humans held onto life by a fragile thread easily snuffed out through disease, war, or old age. But no one had to deal with as many traumatic experiences as Daria. He tightened his hold as though it could shield her from all imminent attacks.

Their eyes met. Uncertainty marked her face but gratitude glowed within her eyes, her emotions laid bare. “Thank you for saving me.”

He brushed aside a stray strand of hair and his heart twisted with the burden of knowledge. Countless times he had saved her now. After all the attempts on her life, all the times he had helped her thwart death, to hear her words of appreciation over such a small incident almost broke him. She had no idea what had come for her, no clue what would come. He didn’t need or expect her thanks but it warmed his heart all the same.

Jason bent down, wanting nothing more than to kiss her. She felt soft and perfect in his arms while her thigh pressed against him, enflaming his desire.

He couldn’t take advantage of her like that. He pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead instead.

“I’d do it again,” he whispered thickly. His mouth had gone dry and he stood, pushing her off his lap. Maybe a little too fast. She gasped and stumbled for a foothold. He caught her as she fell. He glanced to the heavens, silently asking for divine mercy on his soul. He tried to be a gentleman. Why was fate spoiling his good intentions?

She hopped on her foot as she used his chest to steady herself. Her hands burned him through his thin shirt and he imagined them roaming over his body. She was tiny standing next to him. Breakable. Even more so since she didn’t know the danger she was in.

When she still hadn’t found her balance, he looked down to see her heel had broken off. Without another thought, he scooped her back into his arms.

“Oh! I’m fine,” she protested. “I can walk.”

If he couldn’t keep her a safe distance away, then he might as well have her so close he couldn’t help but touch her. And high enough so she wouldn’t affect more vulnerable areas.

“I’m not going to have you hobble home. And that’s where I’m taking you. Home.”

“Are you always so chivalrous?” she teased, tilting her head back to look at him.

If she knew he wanted to take her back and make love to her until they were both spent, would she still call him chivalrous? He met her eyes and she blushed crimson. Okay. Now she knew.

Her gaze fell on his sleeve. She reached tentative fingers to the singed fabric. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Barely even touched me.”

“But—”

He silenced her with a stern glance and she sank into his arms. As they continued walking, she settled in and leaned her head against him.

With her legs hooked over his left arm and her hands resting in her lap, he held her tighter, wanting to savor this short moment. His desire for her had been replaced by the tender yearning he’d had for her these last few years. He didn’t have many chances to hold her in his arms and every second he got the opportunity became a precious memory. He wished the circumstances wouldn’t arise from these attacks.

“If I didn’t notice your broken shoe, you weren’t going to tell me, were you?” he asked softly.

She didn’t reply immediately. After a few seconds she merely said, “It’s really not a big deal.”

He smiled and held her closer. He had forgotten how independent she was, never asking for help, always doing everything herself. It was a quality he admired greatly and yet it irked him to no end. Sometimes he wished she’d ask someone, anyone, for assistance.

After tonight’s scare, any other woman would be driven to tears and maybe even hysterics. Any other woman would need support, a kind ear or shoulder. Any woman except Daria.

She had taken a minute or two to recover from shock and now it was as if nothing had ever happened. But she hadn’t always been like that. He had watched her change after her parents’ death.

Realizing she hadn’t taken her eyes off him, he asked, “Why do you keep looking at me?”

She blushed from getting caught but didn’t avoid the question. “You have yellow eyes. I didn’t notice earlier. They’re nice.”

He laughed at her straightforward remark. She wasn’t the type of girl to play games but even he was surprised by her direct approach to life sometimes.

“And you seem familiar.”

Jason tensed. He hadn’t erased any of her memories, though he could have easily done so. Somehow that felt like cheating. As though the auspicious one couldn’t accept the truth. He hadn’t done it with the one he protected five hundred years ago and he wasn’t about to start now. So he forced himself to relax and gave her an easy smile to allay any suspicious he may have aroused.

“Maybe I have one of those faces,” he jested.

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his face. “You definitely don’t have one of those faces.”

They said nothing more as he arrived at his car.

“You can drop me off at the corner of Ontario and Lake Shore,” Daria told Jason as he pulled his little sports car out into the street.

He shot her an appreciative glance. “There are a lot of new condos there. You happen to live in one of those?”

“Yeah.”

Her new condo had cost her a pretty penny, too. It had been part of the master plan, another item she needed to check off in her quest to succeed at life. Great school. Great job. And it was supposed to be enough.

Yet when she stood in the bathroom at the restaurant, death closing in around her, she suddenly wondered if what she had in life now was truly enough. Did she want a career in estate law for the rest of her life? What did she really want to do if she got out of there alive?

And her mind drew a big, empty blank.

The lack of purpose shocked her. Maybe aimless wanderers like her didn’t deserve the chance to escape death.

Then she had heard her name. Her blind date had come to save her. Elation soared through her. She’d live another day! She had a chance to find purpose.

She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye as the car cruised down Lake Shore Drive. This absolute stranger had risked his life to save her.

Tonight’s events reminded her of a movie with Jason as the action hero. It all seemed too good to be true. And he was so
nice
to her. If he were any sweeter, she’d want to keep him. Then she’d be getting her hopes up for nothing. Because she’d get dumped. She stifled the sigh that rose to her throat.

After her brush with death, Daria wanted to live her life differently. She just needed to figure out what exactly to do. She enjoyed her job and was good at it. Yet once she took the job out of the equation . . . She’d have to ponder some more.

With relief, Daria sat back against the soft leather. Finally. She was going home and she planned to go straight to bed.

“Which one is your building?” Jason asked, slowing down.

“That one,” she said, pointing ahead of her, “with those two flag poles.”

Yet he didn’t swing his car into the circular drive in front of the revolving doors. Instead, he parked his car along the curb. She glanced at him in question when he got out of the car and came to her side.

“It’s the royal treatment, princess.” He grinned and carried her from the car.

“No, really, it’s fine. I can just walk back,” she cried, embarrassed. Daria was sure her face blushed crimson and hid it from the concierge when they entered the lobby.

She loved that he was considerate enough to do this for her, but she couldn’t stand being in his arms any longer. When they were going to his car, the only thing she’d been thinking about was how hot his hands felt on her thigh and how strong the muscles in his shoulder felt against her face. Before she even realized what she was doing, she’d begun caressing the beautiful length of his neck. Thankfully, they had gotten to his car by then and he had to let her down to open the door. It saved her from making a fool of herself.

Now he was carrying her back to her condo. The realization filled her with dismay. The elevator ride up seemed to take forever. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. Her heart fluttered. She felt light and airy in his arms, as though she weighed nothing.

The doors opened and she pointed toward the right. They walked down the hall and stopped in front of her door.

He let her down and just as when they’d reached his car, her legs and hips slid down the entire hard length of his body. The pit in her stomach grew into a cavern, stirring temptation deep inside her. Her shallow breaths betrayed her feelings but she didn’t want to step away. Besides, his hands still locked behind the small of her back and he gazed down at her with tenderness.

“You going to be okay?” Concern etched into his brow and his worried eyes probed hers for confirmation.

She had been better. But it could have been worse
. I should count myself lucky. Not everyone can share near-death experiences.

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