Relish: A Vicious Feast Book 2 (19 page)

Luka’s hand closed around one of my fists. I relaxed its death grip on the comforter and flipped my hand over to meet his. With slow deliberateness, he entwined his fingers with mine until our palms kissed. Forget the hangover cure. That touch alone eased me. Our gazes met and he leaned in.

Way too aware of my mouth’s un-brushed state, I covered his lips with my other hand. I shook my head at him, my lips folding into my mouth. He rolled his eyes at me, but deposited a kiss on my hand before settling back. That was when the thought hit me.

“Wait,” I said, silently praying my breath didn’t stink as bad as the cure did. “If Eli was keeping an eye on me, how come he wasn’t the one who swooped in to save the day?” Having been reduced to a damsel in distress grated. But I couldn’t drum up the righteous indignation needed to refuse the help. Without Luka beating the shit out of Graham, I couldn’t imagine what might have happened. Well, technically, not true. I knew exactly what Graham had in mind. I just wouldn’t allow my brain to dwell on it.

Luka’s hold tightened on my hand. “Eli was on his way, but I beat him to it. Once the concert was over, I called him and he let me know where you were.” His eyebrows pulled together with increasing tautness after every sentence he finished. “I made it just in time to see him…” A muscle ticked along his jaw. I ran the fingers of my free hand along it until he leaned into my touch.

“But the paparazzi,” I said, guilt tangling my insides. The white flashes that blinded me last night must have been from their cameras.

“Yana’s taking care of it.” He kissed my palm again. “I’m just relieved I got there in time. I would have killed the bastard for what he did to you. He’s lucky Eli was there to pull me off him.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this because I want to rip that shit Graham to shreds too, but…” I waited until his eyes met mine. “Besides the kiss, let’s be thankful nothing else happened.”

He frowned. “Why did you let the kiss happen, anyway?”

“What? You jealous?” I meant it as a tease to lighten the suddenly heavy air between us. But the seriousness in his eyes startled me.

“Yes,” he said, tracing the shape of my lips with his fingertip. “You won’t believe how jealous.”

I gasped. The sensation of his touch reached places I had no right to be aware of. Just when I thought he would try to kiss me again, he moved his free hand to his curls until he scratched the back of his head. He bowed slightly.

“Look, I know I hurt you.” He raised a hand to stall my response. “And right now I don’t have any right to your heart, but I want you to know that Breathe is my song for you.”

I must still be drunk because I couldn’t believe what Luka was saying. This had to be a dream. It had to be. But before I could search for an explanation, he continued, squeezing my hand like it was an anchor that tethered him in place during rough seas.

“When you left, I thought I’d be okay. That my life would return to normal.” He shrugged. “As normal as my life could be. But after a day, I knew I’d made a mistake in letting you go.”

“A whole day?”

I didn’t mean it as a joke, but it sure sounded that way. He tilted his head, eyeing me intently as if to ask, “Are you shitting me right now?” I wisely kept my mouth shut.

“I did nothing but think of you all those months apart. You have to know how sorry I am for dragging you into my shit.”

“I get it,” I said, things getting too mushy for me. “You don’t need to keep apologizing.”

“Do you?” he challenged. “Do you really get it?” He closed his hand behind my neck and pulled me in. The kiss happened so fast I didn’t have time to worry about my breath or the sourness inside my mouth. Luka didn’t seem to mind from the way he touched my tongue with his. I fell into the kiss willingly. Then his lips left mine just as suddenly. I almost moaned my frustration. But he didn’t pull away entirely. In fact, he leaned his forehead against mine, forcing me to close my eye again.

“I mean every word in that song.”

Song? I scrambled to recall the lyrics only to have him sing it to me the way he did in my dream.

“I can’t breathe outside your air. I’m so scared when you’re not there. How can I be a man without you there?” Then he swallowed as if a lump had formed in his throat. “I’m nothing without you and it scares the fuck out of me. I’ve never felt this way.”

“Not even for Phoenix?” The question flew out of my mouth before I could stop it.

He stood up and backed away as if I’d electrocuted him. But instead of a hurt expression, he remained stone-faced. In an instant of blind stupidity, I slammed the door shut into his feelings. Damn it.

I moved to get out of bed and apologize but he raised his hand to stop me. “Pack your bags and meet me at the parking lot. We’re leaving in an hour.”

He walked out of my room without looking back. I buried my head in humiliation into a pillow and punched the mattress repeatedly. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”   

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-O
NE
C
ONVERSATION

After my Mention Phoenix While the Guy You Have Feelings for Confesses He Wrote a Song for You fiasco, spending ten hours in a car with Luka with nothing but the English countryside between us should have crippled me. Still, I got out of bed with a groan, took a guilt-riddled shower, packed my bags on the verge of tears, and checked the room one last time for anything I might have missed the first go around. For the entire elevator ride to the parking garage, I composed the most eloquent apology I’d ever come up with in my life. I had ten hours to get up to it. When the doors dinged open, I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and put an amiable smile on my face, expecting Luka to be waiting for me by the car.

Instead I got Samrah in a navy blue silk shirt and the tightest jeans known to ruin any man. Oh, Luka was there in his casual best of rugged jeans and sweater. He wouldn’t meet my gaze. We were definitely in some sort of fight. Well, technically, he was pissed and I was the idiot who caused it. I stood frozen, waiting for someone to give me a clue. Eli took my bags, and Luka took shotgun, leaving me with the shrink. ‘Cause that was just what I needed. Solid plan.

Not!

Well, maybe…

My disappointment must have risen to the surface because Samrah gave me a sympathetic smile as she folded her long limbs into the SUV. I hopped in, closed the door, and stared daggers at the privacy partition. So that was how he wanted to play it, huh? I wondered how much Samrah knew. Surely, Luka wouldn’t have told her about my small act of stupidity this morning already. Then again, a lot could happen in the fifty minutes it took me to get ready.

I huffed just as Eli drove the SUV out of the hotel’s parking lot into the street where a good number of fans still stood with their signs professing their love for the band member they liked and cardboard collages with picture cutouts of the band. Some of the pictures were even from my introspective, probably screen-grabbed off the Web.  

The screams were subdued compared to the night Luka first brought me to the hotel. My still throbbing head thanked the fans for their restraint. The thing about the green cure, it kept me functional by dulling the aftereffects of downing massive amounts of Guinness. Worst drink in the world.

“Want to talk to me about last night?” Samrah finally asked.

I sensed her eyeing me, but I kept my attention out the window. “I drank on the job. That’s a first for me.” If Luka wanted to punish me for bringing up Phoenix by sticking me with the good doctor, then I might as well make the most of it.

“And what led you to that decision?”

Her question seemed harmless enough. The answer on the other hand…I flicked a glance at the black partition. “Can they hear us?” Stupid question since I was pretty sure they couldn’t because if they could then there was an episode with Luka at the back of another SUV that I’d be super-embarrassed to know Eli actually heard.

Samrah blinked at me then shook her head. “I assure you that we have full privacy.”

I blew at the still damp hair that fell over my forehead. “Figures that Luka thinks I need counseling after last night.”

“Actually, I volunteered.” Samrah crossed her legs. “Notice that I don’t have a notepad or a recorder.” She gestured, indicating her empty hands. “After hearing about what happened last night, I just thought you might want someone to talk to. I’m not here in an official capacity because you might be more comfortable, but if you’d like this to be more official, I can easily fish out a pen and notepad from my bag.”

The way she spoke, all airy and light, like we were longtime friends instead of having just met a day ago, lowered some of my guard. “Thanks,” I grumbled.

“But something tells me something else is bothering you.”

I let out a long exhalation then removed my camera from around my neck. Its weight wasn’t currently welcome. I faced Samrah by folding my leg on the seat and hooking my foot beneath the back of my other knee. Knowing Eli locked the doors the second he stepped into the driver’s seat, I confidently leaned against my door and fiddled with the hem of my sweater to give my hands something to do.

The entire time I situated myself to a more comfortable position, Samrah waited with the patience they must teach in Therapist College. She barely moved; content to observe me with an open expression. Something told me she could wait me out the whole trip to Belfast if need be. But I didn’t want to clam up. Not this time. Might as well put ten hours on the road to good use.

“I know our next session is in Belfast, and I know we’re supposed to talk about what really happened to my eye, but can we backtrack to the dreams first?” I flicked my gaze at her for the briefest moment and caught her nodding once.

“Whatever you feel comfortable talking about,” she said. “This is a safe environment.”

“This has to be the weirdest place you’ve ever had a therapy session, huh?”

“I once I had to counsel someone at the frozen food section.”

That got me to look up at her again. She smiled and we shared a quiet laugh. I sobered soon enough when I remembered why Samrah was here in the backseat with me instead of Luka. The guy clearly still had issues where Phoenix was concerned. Totally not going there. That was between him and the shrink.

“You’ve gotten all serious again,” the Doc said, catching my shift in mood.

“It’s just…” I switched from pulling at a stray thread on my sweater to picking at a hole in my jeans. “When I told you about the dreams, there was something I left out.”

“Go on.”

No point in delaying the inevitable. “Recently, after I dreamed about the chanting women or running away from the man with a knife, I wake up in another dream. This time it has Luka in it.”

“You’re saying you have dreams that involve Luka as well.”

“More like he says he’s my subconscious trying to communicate with me.” I peeked to see if any judgment flickered across Samrah’s expression. I found none.

“Fascinating.” She rubbed the tip of her chin. “So you converse with Luka in another dream directly after the recurring ones.”

“Yeah, but we never really talk about those dreams. More like, we talk about what I did that day or a particular decision I made.” I shook my head. “Anyway, that’s not the freaky part.” I inhaled and launched into what I really wanted to say. “In one of the dreams, Luka was writing a song. And last night, while I was taking pictures of the concert…well, more like watching the entire thing instead of doing my job, Luka sang the exact same song my subconscious Luka wrote in my dream.”

A brief flicker crossed over Samrah’s gaze before she blinked it away. “And that’s what led you to go on a pub crawl with Raging Pistols.”

“You’re awfully calm about this,” I said. “Shouldn’t it be impossible for my dreams to actually happen in reality?”

She tilted her head and jutted her lower lip out, considering my question. “As a professional, I’ve read papers that studied precognition or what they refer to as future sight. Nothing conclusive has come out of such studies, but they are fascinating. This is the first time this has happened? The dream coming true, I mean.”

“More like a piece of the dream becoming reality, yeah.” My head reeled despite the ache caused by my hangover. “Actually, this conversation is so weird maybe I’m still drunk and this is all a blackout dream.”

“Like I said, this is a safe place. I’m not about to send you to the loony bin.”

The way she said “loony” in her exotic accent made me giggle. “I’m not used to talking to someone about these things.”

“I completely understand. You can stop at any time if you believe it’s getting too much to handle.” She patted my knee. “The most I can say about the song, unless it happens again, is it’s more coincidence than anything else. You’re not going crazy.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “That’s good to know.”

“So I take it that’s what led you to drink copious amounts of Guinness with complete strangers?”

My cheeks burned. “Wouldn’t you? I freaked out. I needed to get away. Graham, the shit, provided what I needed. I’m never normally this reckless. Not since…” I touched my patch. “Anyway, I got drunk. Graham took things the wrong way and almost raped me in an alley.”

“You don’t seem bothered by this.” Samrah crossed her arms. “Maybe you’re still in shock?”

I shook my head. “If you’ve been through what I have? What Graham did can’t compare. But I guess it helps that Luka got there in time.” I looked at the partition again. “Maybe if he hadn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Let’s be thankful for that.”

For the rest of the ride to Belfast, Samrah and I lapsed into small talk. I’d been honest with her about what happened with Graham. Sure, while it happened it scared the piss out of me, but now that I was safe, it didn’t bother me much. I didn’t really dwell on things, and Samrah got that right away, which I appreciated.

“How’d you end up with Luka?” I asked five hours into our trip. She’d just finished telling me about a year long humanitarian effort she embarked on to give counseling to political refugees. I didn’t understand half of it, but her passion for her work showed in the way she spoke with her hands.