Dark Light (The Dark Light Series) (26 page)

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I giggle. Giggle?
Geez, get a grip, Gabs.
“As much as I’d love to stay here and talk dirty with you, I do have a job I have to get back to.” 

“Will I see you later?” Knowing that Dorian wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him brings an involuntary smile to my face. 

“I wish I could. But I probably should go home tonight. Actually, for now, let’s just shoot for Thursday night. I don’t want my parents to start asking questions.”
Plus I have to try to keep my distance for your own safety and my heart’s sake.
Not to mention Morgan is not too pleased with me always being unavailable.

Dorian nods with understanding. “Good idea. It’s nearly impossible to focus on handling the task I was sent here for when all I can think about is bedding you.” 

Good, at least I’m not the only one getting distracted. “So how’s that coming anyway? Any closer to achieving what you’d hoped for?”

“Oh, Gabriella, closer than you could imagine,” he replies icily. 

His moods are an anomaly; one minute he’s joking and the next he’s so cold it’s alarming. I sip the last of my coffee, unable to come up with something to say in response. Maybe that’s a sore subject for him and something I should steer clear from in the future.

“Well, I better get back to work. So Thursday, right?” I say gathering my purse and empty cup.

“Sure I can’t persuade you to come see me sooner?” Dorian asks. His tongue skims his bottom lip suggestively and I have to fight the urge to suck that very same lip. He’s so damn sexy; no one has ever aroused me with just a look. Sex appeal like that should be bottled and sold.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” I snicker, shaking my head. “You’re making me rethink all my decisions and do things I swore I’d never do.”

“Dangerous? Me?” Dorian feigns offense. “Well, that makes two of us. Just think about it. If you feel like you want to see me, don’t fight it. Don’t fight what your body needs.”

Dorian’s words hit me like a ton of bricks. I know he’s right; I shouldn’t fight what I feel. But then again, is this only physical for him? Does he want to keep this strictly about sex? I know I told myself that this was how it should be. It’s the only logical way we could have any type of relationship. And this is the time to be logical. I have to be smart about this and stick to the game plan. Throwing feelings into the mix will only blur the line between sexual and emotional. 

“I’ll think about it, Dorian. Thanks for the coffee.” 

Dorian stands as I do, like the perfect gentleman that he is. I think to step forward and stand on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips, but that would be leading with my heart. Before I can overthink it anymore, Dorian gently cradles my face and brings it up to his. He pauses just as our mouths are centimeters apart and lets his blue eyes melt into mine. They are burning white hot, becoming the lightest, iciest blue I’ve ever seen. A surge of invisible electricity radiates from them and sends tiny shockwaves throughout my body. They kiss every nerve ending, leaving a prickly trail of pleasure that leads to my own pulsing current down below. 

Just as quickly as he grabbed me, Dorian releases my face and takes a cautionary step back. I’m panting, tingling, disoriented. My hunger for him is suddenly raging like a wildfire and only he can extinguish it. I will writhe and burn until he puts it out. I look up at Dorian with bewildered eyes.

“Go to work,” Dorian commands. His voice is aged, archaic again. 

I can’t find my own voice. I can’t even form an intelligible response. I simply turn in a robotic fashion and walk out of the coffee shop, not stopping until I reach my store. It’s as if I am having an out of body experience. I can see myself; I can comprehend my actions. But I have no control. And I don’t want it. I’ve relinquished it all to Dorian.

Only when I’ve entered the stuffy stockroom do I begin to feel like myself again. I retreat to the tiny bathroom to assess my appearance. I look the same, though my eyes are wild with confusion. I splash some water on my face and finger-comb my hair, in hopes of bringing back some normalcy. When I step back onto the sales floor, the tingles have subsided and I feel coherent again.
What the hell was that?

The evening drones on in slow motion. I can’t quite seem to wrap my head around what happened with Dorian. Every one of his touches is like a shock to my system. But he didn’t even touch me; what could have caused that rush of intense energy? All I know is that my body is craving him. I need release and no one can deliver that better than Dorian. He knows what he’s doing. This was no accident. I told him I couldn’t see him and he somehow awakened a beast within me, making it so I can’t
not
stay away. I can’t let him win. If I give in this time, he’ll know he can manipulate me whenever he wants. But would that be the worst thing in the world? Being manipulated by Dorian when the payoff is so damn good? I can live with being used for sex by him, can’t I?

No
. This is what he wants. He wants me to crave him. He wants to constantly be on my mind so I give into my carnal desires. This is all part of his game; unraveling me to the point where I need him to stay sane. He wants me totally dependent on him. I wasn’t lying- he really is dangerous. If I’m going to maintain control of my faculties, I need to be able to fight fire with fire. I pull out my cell phone and head back to the stockroom.

To Dorian, 8:26 P.M.

-Nice try. See you Thursday.

To Morgan, 8:26 P.M.
 

-Can you meet me tomorrow at the mall? Taking my break around 6.

-Sure. I’ll be there.

Great, now I can put my plan into action. No one does hot and sexy like Morgan.

Ding! Ding!

From Dorian, 8:27 P.M.

-Nice try? What do you mean?

I decide not to play into Dorian’s text, though my fingers are itching to key in a response. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s ruffled me once again. Instead, I busy my hands by folding a new shipment of denim until it’s time to go home. Only a few more days and then it’s time to show Dorian the magic in
me.

These past couple of days will go down in history as the hardest, most emotional, sexually frustrating days ever. Every night, another vivid, sensual dream that leaves me throbbing and wet by morning. The days are no better- walking around like a zombie, feeling so sluggish and lethargic as if I haven’t slept in weeks. I can’t concentrate in class, no matter how hard I try and have even been caught zoning out by my instructors when called upon to answer questions.

“Damn, Gabs, are you sure you’re ok? You haven’t been yourself all week,” Jared asks, obviously exasperated by my dispirited state. It’s Thursday. Finally. And he’s had to deal with my dejected disposition long enough.

“I’ll be fine by tonight.” I know exactly what’s wrong.
I need Dorian
. This goes so far beyond wanting him. My body literally
needs
him. 

“Good. I’m getting tired of seeing you moping around like this. It’s downright depressing to watch,” Jared chuckles. “Hey, I know what’ll cheer you up. There’s an open air concert this weekend. Over at Palmer Park. Bunch of different bands, food, drinks. Come with me.”

“Oh Jared, I’d love to but I think I have to work,” I lie. I’ve never purposely lied to Jared but I can’t tell him about Dorian. He’d flip, especially since I turned him down. That would surely put the nail in the coffin of our friendship.

“That sucks. Oh well, maybe next time.”

Work is like being stuck in quicksand and I have half a mind to tell Felicia that I’m sick just so I can go home early. But since I changed my schedule to free up my weekends, I just have to suck it up and try to get through the long, torturous hours until closing time. All is prepped at home and I just have to shower and leave. I’ve even prepared a story for my parents about a weekend trip to Denver with Morgan just in case I stay the entire weekend at the Broadmoor. I’m getting ahead of myself. Dorian and I agreed on Thursday. Who’s to say he won’t kick me out Friday morning?

“Hey, Kiddo, can I talk to you for a second?” my dad calls out as I pass his office, rushing to my room to get ready. I reluctantly turn on my heel and walk into the study to face him. 

“Everything ok? You’ve been kind of down and out lately and I just want to make sure nothing else happened.” I can tell Chris has wanted to broach the subject all week but let me have time to work it out myself. That’s what he’d want for himself- space and time to deal.

“I’m ok, Dad. Just been a rough week. But I’ve got a fun-filled weekend with Morgan planned that’ll pull me outta my funk,” I smile. 

“Speaking of Morgan… I think it’s important that you know who she is.” Chris takes off his reading glasses and motions for me to sit down. I do as he wishes and wait for him to continue. What could
he
possibly tell me about
my
best friend? “I know you two are very close and Morgan is a wonderful young woman. But Morgan is a little something extra, if you know what I mean.”

“What are you talking about? What do you mean, ‘
extra
’?” I’m on the edge of my seat. 

Chris sighs and rubs his tired eyes like he usually does when he has to talk about something uncomfortable. “Morgan’s grandmother was a very powerful Haitian Vodou priestess. That same black magic runs through her veins, though it’s quite possible that Morgan has no idea. But because of it, she is naturally drawn to you. She can’t help it. You are a source of power. Being in your proximity is like sustenance for her.”

The news is beyond anything I could ever comprehend. I seriously thought Chris was going to inform me that she was involved in some type of scandal with a powerful government official. Okay,
that
I could believe. But Morgan has black magic in her lineage? How does that fit into the fiasco that is my life? Is she really even my friend or is she drawn to me by some inner influence? 

“You have to understand just what you are, Gabriella. You will soon be the single most powerful magical force. Ever. There will be others that will draw from your power. Be wary of people around you, especially those who want to constantly be in your presence. They are trying to harness your energy, and it will only get worse once you ascend.”

The first person that pops into my mind is Dorian. He came into my life so unexpectedly, and has been persistent in staying there. But I feel like I need to be around him. He has been a source of energy for me. Every time we are together I feel so anxious yet
good
. He makes me forget about the burden of my birthright. With him, I am free of those worries. All I feel is pleasure.

“Can I draw energy from others?” I don’t know how Chris knows all this but he seems to have all the answers.

“I suppose so but I’m not entirely sure. Did Natalia say anything about it in the book?”
Of course.
The book.

“I haven’t finished it yet. Just haven’t been able to bring myself to read any more bad news.” After learning that I will never have children of my own, I couldn’t put myself through anymore disappointment. Not until I was strong enough to deal with it.

“Well, it’s certainly possible. Although I’m not sure how Morgan’s bit of power would be enough to sustain you. I’m assuming it’d have to be a very powerful force of Light.” Chris sighs and rubs his eyes again. “Or Dark,” he mutters.

“Good thing we don’t have to worry about that right now,” I say, standing. I give my dad a smile and kiss him on the cheek. “I gotta go, Dad. I’ll check in later.”

Chris’s words haunt me as I mindlessly shower. I’ve been feeling crappy for days, ever since the strange encounter with Dorian in the coffee shop. And I know I need him to feel better. My body literally craves him. And not just in the sexual sense either. I just need to feel his presence. Even the thought of him momentarily clears my troubled mind.
Could he be…? 

No. That’s impossible. I’ve entertained that possibility before and concluded that I’d be dead by now if that were true. Maybe all that Dorian is to me is a mystery that I can’t solve, a challenge I can’t conquer. Maybe what draws me to him is his unattainability.

After I am sparkling clean and meticulously groomed, I look down on the skimpy lingerie I purchased from Frederick’s of Hollywood, or as Morgan calls it, Victoria’s slutty younger sister. The piece is completely see-through, black, and has light blue detailing on the bodice. It comes with a matching thong that looks more like a piece of black dental floss than underwear. Morgan insisted that Dorian would love it and chose it for me after we had looked at several risqué pieces on Tuesday night. I moisturize with the shimmery scented body butter we also purchased before slipping on the short chemise. It hugs every curve in the right place and the stitching at the bust is the only thing obscuring my nipples. Satisfied and praising Morgan for her impeccable taste in lingerie, no matter what may run in her bloodline, I finish dressing and grab my small overnight bag. 

The ride to the Broadmoor seems like hours instead of a mere 15 minutes. I let valet take my little hatchback and pull my coat tightly around me as I make my way to the Lakeside building of the resort. My anxious stride takes me to the elevator and to my dismay it’s occupied by a man and woman who are passionately kissing. I think they are going to step off, being that it’s the ground floor but they stay on and squeeze their panting bodies into a corner. I try to stay towards the front to give them privacy but I can’t help but catch their hushed conversation.

“How long do we have until you have to go back to her?” the woman whines. She sounds desperate and saddened at the prospect of losing her lover.

“A couple hours. Whitney is starting to really get suspicious.” It sounds like the man is planting kisses on his forlorn companion.

“You said you would leave her last week. What happened? You said we would be together.” 

“Look, Rebecca, it’s just not that easy. You know I love you. It’s just complicated. She will take everything if I’m not careful. Just give me more time.”