Page 17 of Revelations

Well, that was impossible! He was a dark guardian, after all. It was probably just an act for the benefit of their captors. That had to be the cause.

Captivated, she steeled herself to not react. If the saying were true that the eyes were the windows to one’s soul, then Greylyn feared what would be reflected in her own. For several minutes, she stared straight ahead, willing herself to not see him at all. She imagined a blank wall was in front of her, instead. To allow him to see into her soul was far too dangerous. Whatever it took, she had to block him from seeing her own truth; one that she would not admit, even to herself.

But all too soon the blank wall had morphed into two large eyes of sparkling gold, followed by the rest of his handsome features—the slight shadow of stubble along his chin; his dimples on full, brilliant display; a strand of auburn hair falling over to almost conceal one eye. There was no escaping Kael’s eyes. They were hypnotic and lured her in without her being aware of it. The invisible wall that she had put up shattered into a million shards of glass as energy flowed between them, around them, through them.

No! No! Don’t. Don’t give in.

Panic gripped her heart like a vice as she battled with herself to block him out. His stare beseeched her to surrender, to stop fighting. Her last thought before succumbing was that she doubted the trees had anything to do with this at all. She had fallen into those delicious orbs, regardless.

Moments later, the cognac-colored eyes transformed like the turning of a kaleidoscope. The display of color and light, tumult and calm, anxiety and peace all came together in a magnetic swirl. She felt drawn out of her own body, mind, spirit, and into his.

Images flashed—magnificent, beautiful, yet disturbing. At first, brilliant fire contrasted with pitch-blackness. In the distance, primal screams echoed. Heat scorched her as she was pulled through flames, invisible hands tearing at her skin.

They were no longer in an indoor garden in an underground vampire bunker. They were no longer in Washington, DC. It was if they had beentransported through time and place to a shared dimension where only they existed.

The flames faltered and gave way to other scenes. Visions snapped in and out of focus, gruesome and frightening, like a horror film trailer. Blood. Pain. Sadness. Anger. Regret.

Then, like a roller coaster coming into the station, it stopped with a lurch. Gray silence morphed into a green meadow nestled atop a hill next to a clear, glacial-looking lake. A breeze blew flower petals and dandelion thistles around. A cool wind caressed her face, ruffling tendrils of hair. Her hands involuntarily reached out to grasp at the swirling flowers and her head turned up to welcome the warmth of the rising sun.

There was something familiar about this place, an unrequited longing in her heart. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it transformed once again.

Next, darkness closed in except for the umber glow of a small fire. Not like the violent flames from before. This was comforting. Her skin warmed pleasantly. She was safe. She was home.

Just as she closed her eyes to bask in its pleasant heat, the scene shattered and twisted again.

Cool rain drizzled down from the sky. She blinked back the drops to witness an old, withered-looking friar in a brown robe tied at his waist with a thick-corded rope. The man muttered words in Latin. Even though she was fluent in the language, the words seemed foreign to her. However, there was a feeling of peace that overcame her as he spoke. A peace she had notfelt…ever. The friar faded into a dark mist, but the overwhelming feeling that someone was holding her hands persisted.

Flashes of other places and people pummeled her; things she almost seemed to recognize but could not place. It was not simply things that she could see. She heard the chirping of northern lapwings, as well as the chiming of a distant church bell. Various odors assailed her senses—the aromatic brisk breeze off a lake, freshly tilled fields, and homemade bread cooling on a windowsill.

Scenes sped by faster, until everything converged into a blur of color and shapes, until all she could see was something more inanimate radiating from Kael’s eyes; no longer people, places, or things. An emotion—rather, a flurry of different emotions—experienced all at once. Love, hatred, fear, courage, joy, and misery all merged together. The intensity of it all pierced her heart, bringing a flood of tears that blurred her vision.

Warm breath tickled her face, coming closer and closer. Citrus and sandalwood flooded her sense of smell. Without truly seeing, Greylyn felt Kael leaning in to kiss her, but was completely unable to move away; unable and unwilling.

The white-hot sensation of his lips on hers sent shockwaves coursing through her veins; smooth,soft, yet demanding more. Every nerve ending in her body awoke from dormancy, sparked to life—a blossoming from her core to the rest of her long-denied body.

No longer lost, no longer alone. She was home. The only thought dancing around her head was,Yes.

The loud click of the door unlocking behind them in the garden catapulted her back to reality so harshly, that Greylyn expected to see bruises on her pale skin. Blinking to clear her vision, she found they still sat several inches apart, not touching; Kael’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion; tearstainsmarred his perfect face. For the first time, she realized he was as deeply vulnerable to her as she was to him.

Had the kiss been imagined?

Looking up, Claude towered above them with a smug smile. “Well, that was not so difficult now, was it?”

Chapter 4 – Yes or No

Claude danced back down the corridor humming a Frank Sinatra tune, after he had ordered four burly vampires to escort them to their room. “I cannot wait to share the good news with Simone and the others.”

Kael had taken her hand when they had exited the garden, and Greylyn had notobjected. Her new seemingly psychic connection with Kael confused her so much, that the stupor she hadexperienced after being jolted from the soul-searching visions had not dissipated in the least. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, flowed between them, and around them as if encasing them in their private energetic bubble.

Halfway down the hall, she caught the muffled sound of sobbing coming from a door just to the right. The little hairs on the back of her neck spiked to attention. It was just the nudge she needed to snap her out of the present funk.

“The boss says you have thirty minutes to discuss your situation. After that, he expects your answer.” The goons shoved them back into the bedroom.

“Hey, Claude said we had twenty-four hours!” she protested.

With a smirk, the guard replied, “Yes, he did. Time’s up.” The door slammed shut, cutting off his laugh.

Greylyn paced. Her index finger absently twirled her necklace around itself, then back the other way. How had twenty-four hours passed? Had they really been in the garden all that time?

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