chapter Twenty Two
The air inside Victor’s car was heavy and tense when we got on the road again the next day. A few times, Morgan tried to initiate a light conversation, but none of us gave him much attention. We only stopped twice for gas and to stock up on food we could eat in the car since our plan was to arrive in Wichita later that evening. We’d meet Brock, the other priest, then sleep a little and head to Cathedral Rock the next morning.
During each stop, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. We saw sinister figures, everyone scared and wary, poverty and destruction. Each gas station and store was protected with gates and metal doors. It was a pain to get in, and almost as hard to get out.
The clouds grew darker and thicker as we approached the city. Morgan had contacted his friend, Brock, and arranged to meet him in the pub of a local motel. As we drove up, I noticed that despite the rest of the city being as dark as night and as dirty as a trash bin, the motel was quite nice and well illuminated, despite the security system—cameras and alarms on each corner. We parked and got out, stretching our legs. At the reception desk, a girl in a pink mini dress, who looked more like a hooker than a receptionist, batted her lashes at Micah as she gave him keys for two rooms. I didn’t know I had such rage within me—only Victor and Micah had ever awakened such feelings.
With unwelcome jealousy surging through me, I hoped my long nails scratched Micah’s hand as I took one of the keys. “This is my room. If you three don’t want to share one, then ask for another one.” I walked away, assuming the guys would follow. If I’d heard the receptionist correctly, their room was on the second floor, while mine was on the first. Very far away. I needed space.
“What did you do to her?” I heard Victor ask Micah. But if Micah answered, I didn’t hear it.
“We meet in one hour at the pub,” Morgan yelled at my back.
I waved them off and hurried to my room. Enough of the guys—I wanted to be alone.
***
The pub was small and cozy, with a bar that extended over a mirrored wall, plenty of round tables surrounding a dance floor in the center, rectangular tables along black stone walls, and a tiny stage opposite the bar where a band played soothing songs. I entered and looked around. The smoke and the scent of liquor were heady, and the dimmed illumination added to the gloomy setting.
I ignored the stares. Yes, I had pampered myself on purpose. Thank God Micah was the one who packed my bag, because he had picked up about four dressy outfits. I wasn’t much on dresses, but I knew guys liked them and, for some reason, I wanted to provoke Victor. And maybe Micah too.
A dark teal halter dress with a short hemline, wrap-up silver stilettos, and elegant but sultry makeup worked together as my makeover. I blow-dried my hair until every strand was straight as an ironing board and shining down my back.
I flipped my hair to the side, revealing my nude back, and strolled to the bar. I paid no attention to the men in the room who still stared at me. Among them were Victor, Morgan, and Micah, seated at a low rectangular table near the end of the bar.
My fingers crossed under the countertop as I asked the bartender for a shot of tequila. I sighed, relieved when he didn’t ask for my ID.
The bartender had just returned with my drink when Victor approached and sat on the barstool next to me. His fitted indigo shirt and dark jeans clung to him, accentuating his shoulders and … yeah, his butt. And I had to confess, the messy hair over his eyes was so damn sexy.
“What are you drinking?” he asked.
“As if you didn’t know what this is.” I gestured toward my drink and smiled at him, and I saw him hold his breath when I did. So, he wasn’t immune to my charm. Hmm. Just reserved and aloof.
“Would you like something, sir?” the bartender asked.
I tried my luck. “He doesn’t drink,” I said, still smiling. “For him, a Pepsi. With one slice of lemon and three ice cubes.”
The bartender nodded and walked off, and I turned toward Victor. I crossed my legs. His gaze flashed up and down, and I hid a smile.
“Again, you amaze me with your knowledge … about me.”
“Until now I’ve been lucky,” I said, before swallowing my drink. “But I’m doomed to make a mistake since you aren’t the Victor I know.” He flinched. Maybe I had been too harsh, but it was true. He wasn’t who I wanted him to be. I decided to change subjects. “Has Brock arrived yet?”
“Nope,” he answered. The bartender placed a Pepsi before him. I took advantage of that moment and asked for another tequila shot. “How many shots can you handle?”
“I don’t know. I’m here to find out.”
He scowled and shook his head.
The band started playing—and singing—a classical, old-school song that usually pleased the general public. I downed the second shot and stood up to dance.
Victor held my arm, pulled me closer, and whispered, “I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re one of the few women in here. This crowd doesn’t look too respectful.”
“What do you care?” I spat, shoving him. I pivoted to face the band and ended up bumping into Micah. In a black T-shirt and black jeans, he also looked magnificent.
God, what was happening to me? How could I feel this attracted to three guys—two real ones and one who lived in my visions? And the real ones could be either jerks or conceited. I had to get my priorities, and my heart, sorted out.
“Hi, darling,” Micah said, facing me but looking at Victor with a serious frown. “Are you all right?”
“Yup,” I said, the buzz of the alcohol making my head spin.
“Do you want to dance?” Micah offered me his arm, and I took it, smiling widely.
Without looking back, I let Micah lead me to the dance floor, where he passed one arm around my waist, took my hand in his, and began twirling me around.
“I probably shouldn’t, but I have to say, you’re so f*cking hot.”
I smiled, sure he was exaggerating. “This isn’t a game you need to add more points to, you know.”
“What? I already told you, you’re more beautiful than you give yourself credit for. I bet lots of guys try to get in your pants. Hell, I want to get into your pants.”
The heat in my cheeks increased. I stumbled, and he held me tightly against him.
“How many hearts have you broken already?”
“None.”
“You’re kidding.” The humor fled his eyes. “You’re not. Damn, girl, don’t tell me you never really dated anyone.”
“Not seriously,” I whispered.
“Why not?”
An invisible force pulled me, and I couldn’t control it. I ended up glancing over at Victor and meeting his straight stare. “I’m insane.”
Micah had followed my stare. When I looked back at him, I saw the math happening in his eyes. “You fell in love with a product of your visions. You’ve been dreaming about him for what? Ten months?”
“Eleven,” I answered.
“Eleven months. You didn’t date or go out for eleven months?”
“What if I did or didn’t? How is that your business?”
“You didn’t know he was real,” Micah snapped. “Besides, you’re the one saying Victor’s not like the guy in your visions.”
Home run! Knowing the truth and only thinking about it was one thing. To listen to it spoken out loud was another—and it hurt like hell.
I pushed Micah back until he released me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Victor stand up. What? Was he going to act like a macho man and come to see if the damsel needed help? Men!
Two steps from me, a waiter passed by with a tray full of drinks. I turned and grabbed a flute of champagne. I downed it as a guy approached Morgan’s table. Probably Brock.
My mood wasn’t the best, and I felt too drunk to lend a hand toward solving things, so I decided to go to the bar and drink some more. Twice, men stepped in my path, whispering nasty words in my ears. Each time, Victor stepped closer and then returned to his stool.
I came to a halt beside him. His eyes never wandered off me. I asked the bartender for another shot of tequila.
Would he say anything to me?
The alcohol in my blood acted. “Come on, you can’t be that cold, that unaffected.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not that ugly,” I whispered.
“What?”
Tears welled in my eyes. “I’m tired of hoping you like me.”
“Nadine, you’re drunk.”
“I know you care. At least a little.” I shifted closer but he leaned in the opposite direction. “You protected me. Against Micah that night in my apartment. You put yourself before me and protected me.”
“I didn’t protect you,” he snapped. “I was acting on instinct. I would have done the same for any person.”
I was certain my chest would open and thick blood would ooze out of it, revealing my ripped heart.
Before things got worse, I ran out of the pub, headed to my room. My legs twisted and my body bumped against doorjambs as I weaved my way through the motel. Why had I drunk so much? Why had I let my emotions take over?
I locked the door to my room and ran to the fridge where I grabbed a Coke and downed it, hoping the sugar acted fast and rescued me from my state. I turned on the shower and downed another can of Coke while I waited for the water to warm up. I focused on breathing in and out, slowly and deeply, making sure I didn’t think of anything that had just happened. I didn’t want to … No, I couldn’t endure thinking of anything that had just happened.
It didn’t suffice to have hallucinations and to become insane. I had to make a fool of myself too.
Glad my mind was numb, I started to take my shoes off when a knock paralyzed me.
I bet it was Micah. He had probably seen the scene and now wanted to comfort me. God, I so wasn’t in the mood for that! I ignored the knock and continued undoing the straps of my heels.
The knock reverberated again, louder this time.
“Nadine?”
Victor! My pulse pounding, I kept quiet, and even turned the shower off so he would think I was sleeping.
“Come on, open up. I want to see if you’re okay.” He knocked again.
Why did he want to see if I was okay? Why was he here, adding to my torment and my broken heart?
The knock became louder.
“I’m okay, Victor,” I lied. “You can go.”
“Please, open up.” His voice sounded lower, more urgent.
Weak against my emotions, I opened the door and found him leaning against the doorframe, his damned sexy hair over his entrancing eyes, looking straight at me.
I crossed my arms and placed myself in front of the door to emphasize he was not welcome. “What do you want?”
“To apologize for what I said. Or the way I said it. Can I come in?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.” I reached for the door to close it.
He put out his arm to hold the door open. He took a step closer. “Let me come in.”
Sighing, I turned my back and walked to the small open space in the room. He closed the door and followed me inside.
“So? I made a fool of myself, but that wasn’t enough?” I snapped, my calm temper slipping away like water through my open fingers.
“No, no. You just left, and you weren’t in a great state. I needed to make sure you got here okay.”
My soul wrenched inside my body, watching him run those fingers through that beautiful hair, but I still felt resentful. I spread my arms wide. “As you can see, I got here okay. You don’t need to pretend to be my babysitter. You can go now.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
I glanced at the floor, praying to gather strength from somewhere. “Please, Victor, don’t make me feel worse than I already do.”
“I never meant to make you feel bad,” he said, sounding closer.
I glanced up. He was closer. “I don’t want your pity,” I whispered, hot tears in my eyes. “I can’t take your pity.”
“Nadine, I do not p—”
“Please! You’re not helping.”
“What do you want me to say to you?” His voice took on an angry tone as he took another step toward me.
I flinched, but felt a little relieved to see he wasn’t so calm all the time. “I don’t know. The things I wanted you to say aren’t true, so it doesn’t matter. I want you to forget everything.”
“No, no. Say it.”
“Why?”
“Because it helps.”
Helped whom? Not me anyway. He wasn’t making any sense. “Victor, go away, please.” I tried to push him back, but he wouldn’t budge. “Why are you doing this? Please, let me be.” I punched his chest. “I opened up my heart to you, and you shut me out. Please. GET OUT!”
“I won’t! What do you want me to say?” He paced forward, making me retreat. “Want me to tell you that you get to me? That since the first time I saw you, you affected me?” His voice was high and rough. “That I tried not looking for you every time I felt the pain because I knew I would be weak and would fall for you? Do you realize that everyone I have ever loved is now dead?” He trapped me between the bed and him. “Should I tell you I’m scared of getting close to anyone because they might end up dead? That I’m scared of getting close to you? That I’m scared of losing you?”
I was sure I had died.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled me up, and covered my mouth with his.
God, I had dreamed of this moment so, so many times. Yet, this Victor wasn’t my Victor, was he? In truth, right at this moment, I didn’t care. All I wanted was to kiss him back.
And I did. His mouth was sweeter than I could have hoped for, his tender lips eagerly moving against mine, his tongue exploring my mouth as if it were a new, rich land to be discovered. One of his hands traveled up my spine until his fingers knotted my hair. The other hand went down, cupping my hips. Oh, and I was over him too, my hands already under his shirt, exploring his lean, hard muscles.
He pulled my hair back, making me tilt my chin up. Startled by how avid he was, I moaned. In my dreams, I had believed he would be gentle and calm. Very different from this Victor. And I loved every second of it.
“By the way,” he breathed in my ear, “you’re so, so beautiful.”
With his tongue, he traced a line down my neck to my collarbone. He bit it, scorching my skin, using his hands to press me against him. I felt intoxicated by his scent, by his touch, his breath.
I pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. Then, he tugged on my dress. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for this moment. I had been naked in front of a guy only once before, and he had been too drunk to really care. This was going to be different. With my eyes still closed, I brushed my hair aside and gave him access to the zipper.
A stab hurt my chest, and tingles spread over my skin.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in the room with Victor anymore.
I was at the pub, watching over Morgan, Micah, and Brock. What the hell? What was I doing here? A ghost-type vision now? Was this a sick joke? Please, I wanted to get out of here, to get back to my room, back to Victor’s arms.
But I couldn’t leave. An intense feeling in my gut made me approach and observe them. I pushed Victor and his sizzling touch out of my mind.
The trio discussed something, their serious conversation interrupted by a chuckle or two. However, there was something strange going on. Whenever Micah or Morgan weren’t looking, Brock glanced to a corner in the back of the pub. I frowned, and with a feeling I was supposed to find out whatever it was, I went to the back of the pub, behind the stage. I found a corridor with dressing rooms, restrooms, and storage doors. I followed the corridor to the end to a door that led outside. I opened the door and froze.
For a moment, I couldn’t register what I saw.
But I knew: demons. Dozens, maybe. Large, nasty creatures with pointed teeth and crippled bodies, slobber dripping down their slanted mouths, sharp claws where fingers should be. Bats hovered over them, silhouetted by the dark skies.
My stomach hit the floor, and nausea made me lean against the doorframe.
What were they doing here?
One of them, clasping a sharp spear, entered the back door and ran down the corridor. He met three humans who halted and opened their mouths to scream. Before they could emit a sound, the demon held his spear high and stabbed their hearts, deft and fast. Their bodies crumpled to the floor, and he stomped over them without losing his focus.
I screamed. Thankfully, I was a ghost here.
The demon stopped at the pub’s door at the end of the corridor and spied from it. Brock glanced at him. Relief showed in his features, then he nodded toward Morgan and Micah.
The blood drained out of me.
“Hurry,” a disembodied voice whispered.
The whole image disappeared—the demons and bats outside, the dead bodies in the corridor, Brock nodding at Morgan and Micah—gone.
“Nadine!” Victor held me in his arms, seated on the bed. The worried look he cast over my face touched me. I took a deep breath and counted while my pulse slowed and my breathing grew easier.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t believe I would have to walk away from Victor, from this amazing moment, but if my vision was right, Morgan and Micah would be attacked soon. And the demons would also come after us.
“I’m here,” I answered, disentangling myself from him.
“What is it? What happened?” he asked, standing and seizing my arm, pulling me around so I would face him.
“I’m so sorry.” God, why was this happening right now? Couldn’t my visions have waited thirty minutes? I had finally gotten some response from Victor, the real Victor. He had touched me the way the vision Victor always had, and now I had to get away from his warm, yummy body. Damn it! “You have no idea how much I want this, how much I want you, but we have to leave. Now.”
“Wait, why?” He cupped my face. “You had a vision, didn’t you? That’s why you were so still.”
I stepped out of his reach and grabbed my jeans, blouse, and flats—clothes I could run in. I turned to him. “I don’t know how long we have, but we’re about to be attacked.”