Immortal Darkness (Phantom Diaries #3) (3 page)

“Sounds perfect, and smells even more so.”

The tea he’d chosen was indeed soothing, calming me further. Before long my eyelids grew heavy like iron, and keeping my eyes open became a chore.

“Come,” he said as he reached for my hand.  He stood and guided me to the sofa that ran the length of the elongated room.

“Lie down for a while,” he said, turning me so I had no choice but to lie on my stomach.

I resisted for just a second, curious about his intentions but his reassuring grin left me relaxed and without inhibitions. The moment my head hit the cushion, he gently pulled my hair to one side and brought his strong fingers to the nape of my neck.

“This is where you’ve been storing all the stress and strain of the past weeks.” His thumb and index finger worked together to bring magic to my flesh. “Let go, Annette. Just breathe in and let go of all the anxiety you’re holding onto.” Bringing his hands to my shoulders, the sensation of utter pleasure, of complete abandon and of total release permeated throughout my body. Before long I surrendered and closed my eyes to let Eric’s fingers take over.

When he raked his fingers through my hair, his nails gently scratching my scalp, I let out an audible and irrepressible sigh of contentment.

My mind went off on its own travels, never once reverting to thoughts of Paris or Aaron, or even New York and the Opera House. Instead, my thoughts floated through endless fields bathed in sunlight; through air, fragrant and cool against my skin.  The sun lost its intensity and the moon glowed in the darkening skies.

My limbs were increasingly leaden as my head dove into the depths of lethargy, each press of Eric’s fingers into my flesh bringing me deeper and deeper.

Unable to gauge how much time had passed, I opened my eyes to a sky vastly different from that on which they’d closed. Dark and menacing clouds blotted out the sun and threatened a severe storm.

With my body still caught in the grips of deep sleep, I felt the warmth of Eric’s chest against my cheek and his arms strong under my dead weight as he carried me.

“Where?” was all I managed to utter.

“We’re home,” he said.  “We landed a few moments ago and I’m bringing you to my car.”

Someone opened the car door for him and he leaned in to set me on the back seat.  As wakefulness slowly seeped through my veins and brought clarity, I heard the slamming of the car trunk.

I sat up and forced my eyes to focus on my surroundings. A brief glimpse of the skyline and I instantly recognized the familiar buildings that made up my home, my New York.

Eric got in beside me and the driver veered the car straight into that skyline. A contented grin remained fixed on my lips as we passed through the city I’d so quickly grown to love.

But when we took a turn that didn’t lead to my apartment, I turned to Eric with a questioning frown.

“I want you to come home with me,” he said simply.

I smiled, at once touched by his desire to be with me, but all too acutely aware of all I had to do at home.  “I think I might have a long line of messages to tend to now that I’m back and I’ll want to contact them all in order to let them know that I’m home, safe and sound.”

He nodded solemnly, accepting my words with reluctance.  “I apologize.  I’m a little too selfish in my need of you.”  He took my hand in his and gently fingered my palm. “I understand and appreciate your responsibilities.”

Leaning forward, he tapped the driver’s shoulder and redirected him to my address.  As the car pulled up in front of my building, Eric brought my hand to his lips and kissed each finger.

“I already look forward to seeing you again.”  He kissed me goodnight, his lips soft with promise.

He ignited a whole other side of me; the side that wanted to forget about opera, about phone messages or emails, about everything; the side that wanted to remain in his arms and lock onto his kisses.

When he pulled away, I silently thanked his strength as mine weakened. “I’ll leave you to your duties.  Truth be told, I have a number of things to tend to myself.”

“Good. That’ll make getting out of your arms and out of this car a little easier.”  I laughed softly, brushed his cheeks with my fingers and opened the car door.

Calling goodnight over my shoulder I hurried into my building with an unexpected resurgence of life.  I’d loved Paris for all it had to offer, but it was great to be back in New York.  I entered the elevator, punched in my floor then tapped my toes to the beatless music that filled the small cubicle as I rode up.

Once in my home, my apartment, I dropped my suitcase at the door and hurried to my phone for my messages.

“Hi, Sweetie.” My mother’s perky voice squeaked out of the phone speaker.  “Just wanted to hear about your trip.  Call me when you get home.”

I checked my watch.  It was still early enough to call, but before I could pick up the receiver, a loud and assertive knock at the door changed my plans.

Grinning from ear to ear I reached for the doorknob, curious as to what Eric had forgotten to say. Perhaps he’d decided to set aside his own responsibilities with the hopes I’d do the same.

I pulled open the door and my grin instantly turned into a quizzical line of disbelief.

“Aaron?”

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S
haking my head, I wanted to control the drop of my jaw that left me gaping like an idiot, but there was no way to hide just how stunned I was to see him.

“I’m so happy to have found you at home.”

Found me home? Minutes earlier and we would have ridden up in the same elevator.

“Aaron,” I muttered again as words escaped me.  “How…?”

Dressed in a freshly pressed suit, his tie straight and perfect, his hair immaculate and his eyes wide and alert, he showed no sign of having rushed to get back to New York to find me, yet there he was, almost as if he’d never left New York at all.

“Aaron, how did you get here?”  I wanted to be warm and welcoming, but sensed my gaze still held its expression of shock and disbelief.  “I mean… How did you make it back to New York so quickly?”

A thin veil of sadness covered his eyes a moment, but he was quick to flash a smile as he stepped in.  “I got here the same way you did… a private jet.”

He turned to me, his eyes reverting to the sadness he fought to mask. With a forced grin he pulled the ring out of his pant pocket and held it up to me. “I think you forgot something.”

Biting the corner of my lower lip, I searched for words that would soothe his ego, diminish what I’d done; words that would explain what I’d done and why.  All that came to me was a weak, “Aaron, I’m so sorry.”

Taking a step towards me he reached for my hand, but I backed away before he could touch me.

“Aaron,” I said, disgusted by my behavior and frustrated by my inability to change it. Unable to look him in the eye, I turned to the window.  “I gave the ring to your mother. I just thought… I’m just not ready, Aaron.  I’m sorry.”

“Yes, Mother gave me your apologies as she gave me the ring.”

I heard the biting edge in his voice.

“I’m sorry for being so cowardly.” When he said nothing, I turned to face him.  I owed him at least that. “I know I should have spoken directly to you. I should have faced you, but I just couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

“And you thought I’d wake up to find you gone and it wouldn’t hurt a bit?”

Again I heard the bite in his words and wanted to wince.  “No,” I muttered as I glanced away for a guilty second.  “I’m so sorry, Aaron.”

“So you say.”

“I was selfish and childish. I didn’t know how to face you, what to say or how to act. I didn’t know how you’d react… and I guess I didn’t want to risk finding out.”

“I apologize if I left you with the impression I couldn’t handle your rejection of my proposal.”

For the first time since he’d arrived, his tone held a note of forgiveness.

“The last thing I wanted to do was hurt or insult you, and I went about all this in the wrong way.”

He reached for my hand again and this time I remained still and allowed him to come closer.

“I forgive you,” he said, “if you forgive my persistence. I know you're still so young.  I allowed my own selfish need to take over.  I knew you weren’t ready and I attempted to push you into this all the same.” He kissed my hand and winked. Holding up the ring for a second, he glanced thoughtfully at it then shoved it into his pocket. “I can wait, Annette.  I’ll wait until you're ready; until you know in your heart that I’m the man who can make you happy.  For you, I’ll wait.”

I shook my head. “Aaron, your mother… she wants grandchildren and she wants them soon. I’m far from ready to even think about that. Marriage and a family… I’ve just begun to lead my own life, to build my career.”

“Don’t worry, Darling.  I know you're not ready and I have no intention of pressuring you.  I realize now just how futile that would be and how much you truly need time to come into your own.  Mother will wait. For all her insistence on becoming a grandmother, I know she would rather wait until the time is right rather than push for an unhappy marriage.  That said, however, just know that I’m not going to give up. I still have every intention of marrying you one day. I love you, Annette and I feel the need to protect you. Don’t take offense.  I know you're strong and independent, but this need to protect you persists. I think all this business with Kristine and Eric has left me with an even stronger desire to keep you safe.”

Hearing Eric’s name on his lips was like a spike through my heart and it was all I could do to keep from physically reacting to it.  I wanted to ask what he knew of Eric; of Eric and Kristine.

He reached into his jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out a small and tattered leather bound book.   “Though you may not be interested in wearing my ring, I thought you might be interested in this.” 

My eyes remained riveted to the book as Aaron waved it about. I was only vaguely aware of the knowing grin on his lips.  He was taunting me.

“What’s that?” I finally asked. In my heart I felt I knew exactly what it was.  It all but belonged to me.  But I wanted to hear him confirm it.

“This is Kristine’s journal.  I went to the village she grew up in and found it there.  I admit I thought it rather curious to find it there after all this time.” 

He held the journal up and my fingers twitched with a desire to grasp it; to rip it from his hands.

“I wondered if perhaps you might not find it of interest.”

I cocked my head to the side and smiled. “It might.”

“After all, she was a relative of yours. I thought you might want to know more about her.”  He reached out to set the book and my hand, but kept a hold of it, his gaze reverently on the journal.  “You know I sensed a strong connection to you the moment I found this. It seemed so important for me to bring it to you; so important for you to have it.  In some strange way I feel she would have wanted you to have it, to read it.”

I fingered the soft and tattered leather as a chill ran up to straightened the small hairs at the back of my neck.  Involuntarily, I shivered and hoped Aaron wouldn’t notice. But in the instant that followed, I realized it wasn’t just a chill up my spine but a veritable iciness that filled my living room.

Billowing in front of my mouth was a small cloud of my breath, just like the cloud that emerged from Aaron’s lips. Instinctively I reached for the crucifix at my neck.