Page 75 of Her Dreadful Will
“Of course.” He moved closer, staring at her with a look more intense than her request warranted. The fireflies swirling around him encompassed her too, intermittent dots of gold and amber in the deep blue dark. “I’ll do anything you want.”
He raised both hands and the shrill whine of mosquito voices intensified as hundreds of the spindly insects emerged from the woods, collecting in a cloud of whimpering need in the space between Achan and Soleil. She stared at the insects, her throat tightening with horror and her body chilling all over again. He could order the horde of mosquitoes to attack her. If he did, she would probably die from that many bites. She couldn’t even think clearly, couldn’t formulate how to use her rings to stop such an attack.
Achan quirked his fingers. The mosquitoes disintegrated into dust, falling to the dirt path at Soleil’s feet.
“How’s that, love? Better?”
Crimson fire burned in Soleil’s chest, surging into her cheeks. “Stop calling me that.”
“I thought women liked that sort of thing. The ones at college seemed to.”
“Well, I’m not them. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“And why’s that?”
“It just does.”
“What if I call you ‘beautiful’ or ‘sweetheart’ instead? Or ‘sexy’?” He advanced again, a bare couple of inches separating their bodies. Soleil could hardly breathe. Had he always been this tall? “You’re blushing, Soleil. I didn’t expect such a virginal reaction from you.”
“I’m not a virgin,” she managed.
“Really? Interesting. So who was it?”
Soleil averted her face so she wouldn’t have to stare into his eyes or look at that soft, wry mouth of his. “I had a high school boyfriend. He was sweet. Gentle.”
“Sweet,” repeated Achan, low and malevolent. “Gentle.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Is that what you want?” The smoothness had slipped from his voice, replaced with a jagged edge, and Soleil’s insides thrilled, glowing molten. She was a planet caught in a gravity well, pulling against the compelling heat and magnitude of the sun, helpless to its beauty and force.
But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction or the power of knowing how much he affected her. When something happened between them, if it ever did,hewould be the one begging.
“What I want,” she said carefully, “is to get my own radiance back and purge this chaos of yours. I don’t want any part of you inside me.” And she swept past him, up the trail toward the Rabbit Hole.
His faint chuckle followed her. She hid an answering smile and turned on her phone to illuminate the path between the rocks.
When they reached the clearing, Achan crouched, opened his backpack, and took out spray paint, a portable speaker, several battery-powered candles, bottles of water, and a couple of markers. Soleil could see more packets and clear bags inside the backpack, but she didn’t have time for a thorough inspection before Achan zipped it shut again.
“Do you keep this stuff in your car all the time?” Soleil asked.
“Don’t you keep emergency magic supplies in your car?”
“A few things, in the glove compartment. Not this much stuff.”
“Well, you know the boy scout motto.” He winked at her.
“You were a Boy Scout?” At his nod, she scoffed. “Wow. Why does that surprise me more than anything else I’ve learned about you?”
“Face it. You like me because I don’t fit any stereotypes.” He straightened, shaking the can of spray paint.
“What? You’re not a dark, mysterious, handsome stranger with secrets?” She widened her eyes in mock amazement.
“Hm. Maybe I should bleach my hair.”
“Ugh, no. It’s—it’s perfect like it is.” Turning away to hide another blush, Soleil picked up one of the battery-powered candles and clicked the switch on the bottom of it. She placed the candles, one after another, along the edge of the circle Achan had sprayed, while he finished the center design. In the middle of the circle, he drew the symbols for god and goddess, separated—or perhaps joined—by an eight-pointed star, the sign of chaos.
Soleil’s insides were twisting inside her, and it wasn’t just nerves. Whatever energy Achan had introduced into her body was foreign, and her own energy was trying to expel it; but she wasn’t strong enough. A good thing, too, because without his radiance inside her, she would still be an immobile statue on the sofa at Florence’s house.
