Page 7 of Divine Violence
My anxiety spiked with each new step I took, walking between them, trying to find a place I could stand, while my hands clutched at the front part of my dress, holding onto the lace like a lifeline. The invitation was safely tucked in the inside pocket of my jacket, as was my phone. I knew I was about to step into the lion’s den.
I just couldn’t help but wonder—why me?
I knew none of these people. I had no connections to the Adair family except for my little escapades in that building. Could it have been—
“You look a little bit lost.” A deep timbre of a voice stopped me in my tracks just as I was about to come closer to the boat.
Letting go of my dress, I let the length of it cover the black boots I wore instead of some fancy heels and tucked my hands inside the pockets of my jacket. My eyes traveled up, over the expensive-looking suit that must have been tailored to the man standing in front of me, over the square, wide shoulders taking so much space, all the way to the sharp jawline covered in the five-o’clock shadow of a beard, to the most striking pair of blue eyes I had ever seen.
His face, much like mine, was covered with a mask. But where mine was golden with intricate swirls, making it look more feminine, his was black. Crimson streaks covered it, as if they were imitating blood vessels just thrown together.
There was nothing soft in this man.
His full lips were set in a grim line, and even under this dim light, I could see how smooth his olive skin was. His dark hair, almost the same color as mine, looked as if someone had continuously run their fingers through it.
He oozed power, confidence, and even though his words didn’t hold an accusation in them, I felt so small underneath his gaze that I wanted to turn and run far away from this place.
There was something violent hidden in those blue depths. Something depraved that made my breath hitch and my heartbeat fasten. Something that beckoned me, called to me. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said that it was the same kind of energy that called to me from the stranger on that rooftop.
Could he be… No. Absolutely no.
What would be the chances?
I knew I stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights, but the words were stuck in my throat. No matter how many times I swallowed, they just wouldn’t roll off my tongue. His lips moved gracefully, but the ringing in my ears made it impossible to hear him.
“Are you?” he asked, leaning down closer to me. The scent of rain, cigarettes, and oak wood wafted through my nose. Heady with the sudden onslaught of yearning, of need, to touch him, to wrap my hands around his body, almost knocked me off my feet.
But I steadied myself.
“I’m sorry, what?” I finally spoke, hating how small and insignificant my voice sounded.
I stepped back as he chuckled, surprising me momentarily. His facial expression changed, going from stern to relaxed in a matter of seconds.
“I said…” he leaned even closer, coming all the way to my ear. I could feel his breath caressing the sensitive skin of my earlobe, and even though his hands never came in contact with any part of my body, I could feel every word deep inside my soul. “You look a little bit lost, Sparrow.”
“Sparrow?” I turned to look at him, almost bumping his nose with mine. Flustered, I stepped back, putting some distance between the two of us. “I am most definitely not lost,” I replied before he could say another word. “Are you? Lost, I mean?”
“No.” He shook his head and crossed his hands one over the other, right in front of his body. “I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
There it was. That glint, as if he knew something I didn’t, a secret swirling behind those cerulean eyes.
“Well.” I cleared my throat and mirrored his position as I removed my hands from my pockets. “I believe I am where I’m supposed to be as well.”
He tilted his head to the side, his eyes never leaving mine. “That you are.”
Unlike the other men with leering stares and hunger in their eyes as they saw me pass by, this one was completely different. The condescending looks I kept receiving from all the men and women evaporated from my memory into thin air, replaced by the stare of this stranger who rendered me speechless in the matter of seconds.
“I think that the rest might not agree with you and me.” I smiled and looked over my shoulder at the crowd behind us who were trying not to look our way, yet failing. “But I don’t really care,” I told him proudly.
“And you shouldn’t.”
We stood there, staring at each other as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. Even though I didn’t know his name nor did he know mine, I had never felt more seen. My initial thought was that he would be another condescending prick, asking me what I was doing here when it was clear that I didn’t belong in their social circles.
But he wasn’t.
“My name is Echo,” I said first when it was obvious that he wouldn’t say another word. I extended my hand toward him, ready for a handshake. I never expected him to take my hand and pull it all the way to his lips, kissing the top part as if we were lords and ladies in some other time.
The moment his lips connected with my cold skin, I shivered, letting it run through me as his eyes connected with mine.
