Page 47 of Act of Brotherhood
Alarm trickled through her, but she didn’t understand why. It hadn’t been there before.
Why now?
What was different?
A massive clap of thunder caused her to jolt upright. It was timed perfectly with a bolt of lightning that was so bright, it was nearly blinding. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes and when she lowered it again, the room had plunged into darkness.
“G-Garth?”
He didn’t respond.
Nicolette reached for the bedside lamp, nearly knocking it over as she did. She turned the switch but nothing happened. Was the power out?
“Garth, can you try the main light switch?” she asked.
No reply.
Nicolette slid out of the bed slowly, pulling one of the lightweight summer blankets from the bed with her. She made sure the blanket was wrapped around her fully, even though Garth had already seen the whole show. She took a step in the direction of the main light switch but slipped on a small puddle of water on the floor.
Her feet went out from under her and strong arms caught her.
While she’d seen with her own eyes that Garth was the man in the room, her body didn’t react to his touch as it had before. He didn’t feel the same to her. She knew that sounded crazy. In addition, he smelled heavily of cloves, vanilla, and cinnamon. Something he’d not smelled of before. It was nearly overpowering, as if he’d dunked himself in the mixture.
He dragged her against his body and held her arms tighter than necessary to keep her from falling. He pushed his face against the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. “Fuck, you smell so good.”
“Um, thanks. Garth, you’re hurting my arms,” she said, her hands going to his chest. “Your shirt is all wet. How did you get changed into this again? You didn’t have any other clothes with you before.”
He jerked her harder to him. “You ask a lot of questions.”
She stiffened. “Garth?”
He cocked his head to the side and laughed, but it didn’t sound friendly. “It is your lucky night. The Outcast grows near, and it would appear he’s found a friend.”
She wasn’t sure what he was talking about.
He released her so fast that she nearly fell. She caught herself on the bed and when she stood upright, she couldn’t tell where he’d gone. The room was too dark.
Nicolette made it to the wall light switch and flipped it on, bathing the room in light. Wet, large boot prints were on the floor between the window and the bed but there was no sign of Garth. It was as if he’d vanished into thin air.
That, or he’d gone out the window, which was absurd.
Confused, she went towards her bathroom, thinking he might have gone in there. When she turned on the light, she found a small piece of paper wedged against the mirror. She pulled it down and read it, smiling as she did.
It was from Garth, informing her that he’d had to run into the office here in the city quickly, but would be back to take her to work, not to dare leave without him. He’d addressed it toBeauty.
She held it to her chest, and then paused. Why had he acted so strangely only moments before? Why didn’t he just tell her he was running into the office?
She stepped out of the bathroom and looked to the bed, noticing at once the framed picture wasn’t there. It wasn’t on the dresser either. Had he taken it with him?
Pfft. And he tells me I’m the odd one.
She took a deep breath and nearly got sick at the overpowering smell of cloves, cinnamon, and vanilla. It smelled as if he’d bathed in it. She wrinkled her nose and decided to leave the window open in spite of the rain, to air the room out. She then started the shower; the need to wash the smell away from her was great. The step would save her time in a couple of hours when her alarm went off.
Chapter Twelve
Nicolette went downstairs,following the smell of something delicious that led her to the kitchen. Since Clara was gone on a business trip, good smells were not something that should be coming from that room. As she heard Garth singing along to the under-the-cabinet satellite radio, she found it impossible to keep from smiling ear to ear. While the man was certainly hard to understand when he was speaking, his English while singing was quite clear and deep, like his voice.
It was only half past six in the morning and he was rocking out to Billy Idol’s “White Wedding.” The man did not shy away from the loud parts. She had to admit it was impressive. She stopped in the doorway of the kitchen and bit her lower lip to keep from giggling at the sight of the giant of a man moving his head back and forth along with his shoulders, as he danced in place in front of the stove.
