Page 35 of Song of the Dawn
The last words she dropped as if something was wrong with me. I bolted up, but she stepped away. “I’ll see you later, Mila.”
I sat down heavily after she left, surprised at the turn of the conversation and the cold aloofness with which she had sneered at me. My hand went to my hair. Her slight felt like a thorn pressing into my side. My face crumpled, but I wouldn’t let myself cry. Taking a deep breath, I waited until I was calm, then stood. My eyes went to the cellar, and I was half tempted to walk down there and wait for the creature to reveal itself again. Those red eyes and the disconcerting slurping sound had haunted my dreams last night. If I wasn’t going mad, I had to prove to myself that it was the house. But what was it hiding?
Rubbing my eyes, I swiped a muffin off the table and left, brushing by Ginger quickly so I didn’t have to look at her.
Keeping my head down, I walked to the gardens. Sitting by the pond would make me feel better, and I was grateful it was early. I wanted to sit quietly alone and decide what to do next.
The scents of citrus and flower blossoms pulled me from my melancholy thoughts. Was Ginger right? Had the lady gone off in the night and what I’d interpreted had just been my imagination? No, I knew what I’d seen this time and the other times too. A menace crept through the inn, and Ginger knew about it. But if Ginger knew what it was, wouldn’t Ezra know too? The thought made me cold. I wanted answers, needed answers, but would I like what I found?
“Mila?”
Startled, I glanced over my shoulder. My heart kicked with irrational fear, then flip-flopped as Ezra neared. Again I was stunned by how much he looked like a sun god in all his glory. His gray shirt was untucked, hanging over his trousers as if he’d dressed in a hurry. His golden hair was still wet and slicked back from his forehead. The sun cascaded upon him, highlighting his chiseled jaw and the depths of his green eyes, like pools of water. I stared openly, my pulse throbbing.
“Ezra,” I breathed, my voice only a whisper as I rose to greet him.
My gaze fell to his arms. I wanted to be in them, my face pressed against his hard chest—his embrace melting away all my fears.
“What’s wrong? You’re usually not out this early.”
I sat back down and twisted my fingers together. I wanted to tell him, but it would cast doubt on Ginger, the woman he trusted to run the inn without him. His second-in-command. What sway did I have over a long-term, deep relationship of his past? Despite the budding attraction between us? An attraction I desperately wanted to explore. But the shadows flashed before me, and I knew the price of remaining silent was my sanity.
Ezra sat beside me, giving me space as he said, “I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”
“I know,” I said, staring at the swan, which sat on her nest. Her life was happy, uncomplicated. “There are things happening that I don’t understand, and I can’t explain them, but I feel…I feel like there’s a truth hidden from me.”
Ezra moved closer until his hip pressed against mine. Using one finger, he caressed my chin. “Tell me.”
I sucked in a breath and told him. It came out in a rush, the noise in the cellar, the red eyes, the shadow creeping through the orchard in the dark, the shape in the hall, and then what had happened last night. He listened, although his expression shifted, turning to raw concern. “I didn’t want to bother you with this in case it was just my imagination,” I admitted. “But I know what I saw last night, and Ginger dismissed it. I don’t believe the lady was sick, and I slept badly last night. I would have heard a carriage…”
“Mila, all these secrets?” Ezra scolded gently. “You should have come to me.”
“I didn’t know I could. Ginger and Rachelle have been here much longer, and they noticed nothing amiss. And what’s wrong with Rachelle? She doesn’t even remember Endia, and why did she run away? Did something terrible happen to her too?”
A muscle in Ezra’s jaw twitched, but before I could study his expression further, he pulled me into his arms, pressing my head against his heart. Listening to the slow and steady beat, my worries faded. He believed me, didn’t he? He’d have a reasonable explanation, and I could count on Ezra being honest with me. When he released me, I sat up, flustered.
“Mila.” He held my gaze with his somber one. “I need you to know that sometimes, strange things happen here. It’s not simply an old legend. It’s the truth.”
Blood rushed to my ears at his admission. “I believe you.”
“Much of what Giselle told you is true, which makes me think there is an undesirable roaming the property. I thought I’d been careful.” He whispered the last words, as though he was talking to himself and not to me anymore. Straightening up, he stood and cleared his throat. “I’m going to talk to Ginger, and then I want you to spend the day with me.”
I stood. “What about everyone else? Will they be safe?”
“It depends on what Ginger did to fix the situation, which is why I must speak with her. But if it is what I think it is, there is no need to worry during daylight.”
I trembled, for his words did little to comfort me. The fact that he knew what it might be was even more disturbing. He turned to leave, then spun around, reaching for me. In one motion, he pulled me tightly against his chest, his hand pressing against my back. He kissed me. Hard. Crushing my lips against his. I tasted a burst of orange flavor, and I parted my lips, wanting more than a breathless moment of heated passion.
Ezra broke the kiss slowly, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip as he dragged himself away. His eyes were glassy as he whispered, “Don’t leave.”
After running his thumb over my lips, he turned in the direction of the inn.
I stared after him, a pool of desire spreading through my body. I wanted to unravel the mystery of who he was, where he was from, and I wanted to know him fully. I was teetering on the edge of the unknown, and if I went over the brink, I’d sink into bliss, and when it broke, it would burn like a blazing fire. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I sank back down on the bench to wait, turning his words over my mind.
“Don’t leave.”
What had he meant? Don’t leave the garden, or don’t leave the inn? Because how could he have known I’d considered packing my bags and running to my sister’s estate, where it was comforting and familiar?
Mila
