He fell to the floor as the floating sensation took over.
Chapter Seventeen
When Shay awoke, she expected pain, but felt none.
Nothing? I got knifed!
She pawed at her side, still finding nothing painful. Someone must’ve given her some phenomenal pain medications. Or she was dead.
She glanced around the bedroom. The two Rembrant-ish still-life oil paintings fit right in with the burnt sienna theme. She dated the bureau and rolltop desk to circa late 1800s. The house, itself, was Colonial with ancient molding and genuine plaster walls. Given the irregularity of the glass in the windowpanes, they were original, not the fake overlays that were commonly used these days.
This definitely wasn’t what she imagined the afterlife to be. At least not her afterlife. A Colonial junkie she was not. Restrictive clothes, lice-infested wigs, chamber pots…talk about a time period that made her cringe.
The gray of daylight filtered through the windows, but the faint splatter of rain against glass was unmistakable. A multitude of massive ancient trees swayed in the storm’s wind just beyond the window. She couldn’t be dead. It didn’t rain in the afterlife. If this was real, then nothing in her surroundings helped to identify locale.
A petite woman with a long black braid dressed in light green scrubs leaned into her visual field. The woman’s unusual pale eyes met hers as she pulled the sheet into a modest position. Each iris had a pale center of green ringed by blue.
“I’m Dr. Kira Hardy. How are you feeling?”
“Where am I?”
“You’re somewhere safe. I’ve taken care of your injuries. So you should be feeling pretty okay.” Kira positioned her stethoscope tips into her ears and leaned in for a listen of Shay’s chest. After a few seconds, she pronounced, “Sounds great. Do you have any pain?”
“No. Why don’t I feel pain?”
“Great. You seem to be a magnet for trouble.” Kira smiled.
“Been a rough couple of weeks.” She accepted a glass of water and sipped at it through the straw while eyeing Kira suspiciously for a few seconds. Curiosity over her wounds won, though. She pulled down the sheet and lifted an unfamiliar T-shirt to expose the knife wound area. There was no evidence of any injury. Only a small, circular blue tattoo of some beautifully stylized lettering marked on her skin in the area that had been gushing blood. Upon closer inspection the lettering was minuscule…hieroglyphics? “What did you do to me? How did you tattoo me and why?”
“I told you, I took care of your injuries.”
“What are you? Some kind of witch healer?”
Kira’s cheeks flamed red. “I am not a witch. I am a medical doctor, complete with an M.D., and an almost-finished residency in internal medicine.”
“But you…” Shay waved at the area where there had been a knife wound.
“Yeah, it’s gone. Get over it. I have some special abilities. It probably isn’t the weirdest thing you’ve seen in the past couple of weeks. Besides, I didn’t think suturing it was an option when Dakar dragged me in here to fix you up. These boys can be a bit terrorizing where their women are concerned.”
“I’m not his woman.”
“Well, that is certainly the question of the month. Are you or aren’t you?” Kira shrugged as if it was interesting, but not on her agenda of super-important things to stress about. “What I need to know is who gave you that necklace?”
Shay fingered the gold pendant around her neck. “Who are you?”
“I’m their doctor.”
Shay frowned. “Who do you work for?”
“I’m the doctor to the magi. The Scimitar Magi. Don’t claim you don’t know who they are. Maybe you haven’t been introduced face-to-face, but you’ve been researching them for a while. I know it’s probably a bit of a shock to realize what sounded like a ridiculous story is real, but you are very much a part of their world whether you want to be or not.”
“How do you know all this stuff about me?”
“Your advisor, Stephen Levin, phoned my cousin, Markus, to ask him to find you. Apparently, you missed a meeting with your advisor. He thought you planned to try something stupid. Like meet with Hashishins, although he probably doesn’t know that you actually followed through on that idiocy. Markus phoned me since he’s on strict orders never to go near Asheville or wherever Hashishins congregate. Sorry the boys were a bit slow to find you. They had some business to take care of before they headed your way. We’d have preferred you had avoided meeting Terek.”
“I knew it! Stephen does know a lot more than he was letting on.”
“Well, he doesn’t know about the us-being-real part, although he might have suspicions. That was a coincidence. Markus owed him a favor. He usually retrieves artifacts from the black market, not people. Your advisor must’ve been pretty worried to call Markus. Nothing goes quite as expected when he’s involved. He gets the job done, but there’s usually chaos involved. Anyway, why don’t you tell me about that necklace.” Kira smiled expectantly.
“Do you have any clothes I can borrow, not that I’m not grateful for the T-shirt?”
“I laid out a few items over there. Chair by the bathroom door. We’re close in size. Your bag is by the bed.” She pointed to the floor next to her. There sat her familiar oversized leather handbag, the one she’d left in the rental car. Dakar must’ve been thoughtful enough to ensure it came with them.
Shay ran her hand over the new tattoo on her side. “How did you do this?”
“Never mind that. Tell me about the necklace.”
“I don’t really know you. And given the monumental shit I’ve been through recently, I’m inclined to pass on divulging personal info for the moment. I’d like to take a shower or a bath.”
“Sure. No problem. Bathroom is over there. Is there anyone I can phone for you to let them know you’re okay?”
Nope.
“I’ll check my cell for messages. And take a shower. Thanks.”
“Great. I’ll be back in a bit with some food.” Kira exited.
Her cell phone chimed in the familiar tone for an incoming. Guilt that she’d been so lost from the world of technology made her push off the covers and dive for the bag. She pawed through until locating the source of the low-pitched electronic noise.
“Hello,” she answered, breathless.
“Shay, this is Dr. Levin. Are you still in Asheville?” His tone was tight, edgy.
“What? Asheville?”
“I had a friend find out where you went when you missed our meeting. He tracked you down here, but…I want us to meet. Here, in Asheville. To talk about why it is that you’re here.”
Weird.
“Why are you in Asheville?”
“I was worried. Let’s try to meet.”
“I can’t meet today.”
“Tomorrow. There’s a Folk Art Center just outside town. Meet at ten a.m. in the parking lot.”
“All right. I’ll try.”
He hung up abruptly.
Right, meet tomorrow. That’s a joke.
She didn’t even know where she was now, and certainly didn’t know about the Folk Art Center. What was Dr. Levin doing in Asheville? And, how was she supposed to make her way there in time for a meeting?
A few minutes later, water coursed down her back while soothing humidity filled her lungs. She rested her forehead on the shower’s tiled wall, trying to stop her brainspin.
They were real. Magi. Scimitar Magi. Real.
They had a magical doctor who did some sort of magik healing on her. And tattooed her, not that she wasn’t thrilled. She smoothed the stylized hieroglyphs that now permanently marked her side and her thigh. She’d always wanted a tat, but never settled on a design she wanted imprinted forever on her skin. Now she had two.
Despite the fact she’d studied the magi for years, and searched for proof of their existence, she hadn’t realized the depth of her skepticism until now. And
he
might just be one. Dakar. Could he really be an immortal that battled daemons?
She’d already seen him in action against a daemon in Colombia. But just hadn’t believed her foggy memory wasn’t some overblown coma dream.
Although the last twenty minutes had been necessary, she needed to get out of the water. Her fingertips looked like raisins.
As she pushed out of the shower, she froze. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. The
drip drip drip
from her body onto the tile floor echoed in the room.
Dakar rested casually against the doorframe. Yet there was nothing casual in the dark gaze that raked her from head to foot with a single encompassing look. Black sludge swirled in his golden eyes when his gaze returned to hers. The dark T-shirt and jeans hugged his massive frame, keeping few secrets.
His vitality seared her like an almost palpable force.
“Are you in any pain?” he asked. His gaze dropped to where the knife had struck, and then to her previously damaged thigh.
She recovered, snagged the towel off the hook, and pulled it around her. Somehow even covered, she still felt exposed. “Did you even consider knocking before coming in?”
His lips quirked and creases appeared at the edges of his eyes. “You would hide yourself from me?” He chuckled. “Pointless.”
She whispered, “Please, get out of here.”
“You have watched me. Even came to me the other day in a vision. We know each other.”
“That was a dream. There’s no way you also—”
He whispered into her ear, “Did you enjoy taking advantage of me?”
She jumped. How had he moved so fast? She turned away from him.
His arm wrapped around her, pulling her backwards, tight to his body. “I might be inclined to let you do so again.”
She panted, struggling to catch her breath. She twisted and braced a hand against his chest. The heat of his body seared her through his dark T-shirt. Her skin prickled, almost painfully sensitive. Panic swelled in her brain.
His sharp gaze was startlingly aware. His lips parted as his breaths came fast. “I am a fool,” he murmured, his Egyptian accent thick. He backed her shoulders against the shower door. The towel fell to the floor.
Her breath caught as the fullness of his arousal pushed against her.
Instantly, he took advantage of her parted lips. His lips latched onto hers. Her blood surged in response to the soul-searing skill he used. He deepened his advantage when she relaxed. He tasted wild and achingly familiar. Her body instinctively molded against him.
His hands moved over her body, drifting lower, making her acutely aware of her nakedness. Long fingers slipped between her legs into her soft folds. Shay had but a second of warning before an almost-painful inner tightening hit. She frantically pushed against him. But it was too late. Sensation fractured into a thousand pulsations. With a hoarse cry, she arched against him and ground tightly against his hand.
His breath hitched as his mouth captured hers and muffled her cry. He gathered her tight against him as her climax burst through her. His fingers continued their deliberate caress. The spasms finally slowed, and she sank weakly against him.
She jerked her mouth from his, burning with mortification. With a push, she stepped away from him, yanking the towel off the floor to cover what she could, her legs wobbly. “Get away from me.”
He grabbed her arm. “Look at me, Shaiani.”
She tugged her arm free and edged further away, crossing her arms across her chest. “This is a mistake.”
“Did not feel that way to me moments ago.”
“Then you felt wrong…way wrong.”
He wrapped himself around her before she even realized he’d moved. Damn, he was fast. One of his hands clamped the base of her neck. The other pulled her hips tight to him, his heavy arousal pressed tight to her abdomen.
She closed her eyes, fighting herself when every inch of skin electrified where it contacted his hard body. She hated her lack of control…and her bizarre reaction to him. His hand at her nape massaged. She swayed into him…needing. Oh God, she wanted him with a desperation that eclipsed anything she’d ever felt for a man.
No, you do not! Get it together and get out of here.
She waited for his mouth to come down to hers again. The urgency of her want shocked her. Instead he whispered in her ear, “Why do you fight this?”
“I don’t trust you. I don’t know you.”
His lips hovered inches from hers. “You do not trust me? I could push you against that wall and be deep inside you in a heartbeat. You would voice no complaint.”
No, she probably wouldn’t. She’d be…relieved.
“Your body trusts me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into the curve of her neck. His breath came in short hot pants against her.
Push him away.
But she didn’t. She arched her breasts into him, and gripped his shoulders, pulling him to her.
A male moan of desperation broke from him. “I need to be inside you. We can do this in here or in the bed. The choice is yours.”
Sanity crashed through her desire haze. What was she doing getting it on with him? She choked out, “No.”
His fingertip smoothed wet hair away from her face and traced down her cheek. “
Shani,
I am not going to hurt you.”
Not now. But later, you will.
Men like this always hurt her later. Of course, she’d never experienced raw desire this powerful. That only meant she’d fall harder when she watched him walk away.
“What are you doing in here? Get. Out!” a female voice yelled from the doorway.
Dakar swung around with Shay clamped against his side. “I, we—”
Kira ordered, “Look, until we resolve this, you can’t be in here.”
His eyes met Shay’s, communicating regret and disbelief. He tightened the towel where it sagged before stepping away. “Until later,
shani
.”
Shay wished she could prevent the tomato red flush she glimpsed highlighting her cheeks in the vanity mirror.
Kira placed the borrowed clothes on the sink counter. “I’ll give you a few minutes.” And closed the door.
Shay pulled on the dark sweater and gauzy skirt hastily as if hiding the flush over most of her chest and neck would erase her humiliation. She ran a brush through her hair and splashed water on her face. The guy had barely kissed her and she just lost it?
She pushed out of the bathroom and met the doctor’s curious gaze. “Nothing happened with him.”