Authors: Kate Evangelista
numb.
“What’s happening?” I slurred out, slumping heavily against the chair I no longer felt
beneath me.
“Everything’s going to be okay. I promise,” Mom whispered from somewhere. I didn’t have
a clear idea where she was anymore. Hell, I didn’t have a clear idea of anything anymore. No
matter how hard I tried to concentrate, my thoughts shattered.
With every breath I took, my muscles grew heavier. First, on my neck then on my
shoulders down to my arms and abdomen then lastly my legs until they stretched out.
“Mom?”
“Shhh. Shhh. Let it work.” Her warm hand touched my cheek. I should be panicking.
Should be fighting whatever it was that came over me. I knew this yet I stayed seated, feeling like melting ice cream on a cone.
My vision tunneled. I struggled to stay awake, but something pulled me down. In the
distance I heard my mother speak. Only she wasn’t really speaking. It sounded more like
singing…or chanting. I couldn’t trust my ears anymore.
Crystal clear, crystal clear
Clear the vessel’s mind of my fear
Wipe her mind
Clean her thoughts
Cleanse her dreams
This is my will so mote it be…
No longer able to keep it open, I let my eyelid blanket me in darkness. My heart sputtered.
Once. Twice. A third time. Then nothing.
Epilogue
An hour before dawn, New Year’s Day.
Luka rolled onto his back and groaned. The inside of his mouth felt like a desert that
something crawled into and died. Moving his tongue around, he gathered as much saliva as
he could and swallowed. Big mistake since the action jarred the marching band playing inside
his head. He reached up and rubbed away the sleep and exhaustion clinging to his face. He
couldn’t remember how many bottles of gin he’d downed.
“Shit!” He sat up then groaned again, cradling his pounding head in his hands. Luka had
drunk himself into oblivion once before…days after the Traditionalists staged a coup against
his father. He remembered every stupid thing he’d said and done then the same way he
remembered tonight. He’d messed up. Royally messed up.
The door to his room blew open with so much force he thought the wood would splinter
into a thousand pieces. A seed of hope grew in his chest anyway, thinking the commotion
came from the woman he’d hurt because of his drunken ramblings. He was prepared to
apologize profusely to her.
Unfortunately for him, his sister stomped to where he sat. She still wore that ridiculous
carnevale costume she’d chosen for the party. The pucker between her eyebrows and the heat
in her eyes dotted cold sweat across Luka’s forehead. He could feel the blood draining from
his face with each step she took toward him.
The slap came fast and furious. The impact reverberated inside the silence. Luka’s already
hung over head whipped to the side. He grunted at the new pain mixing with the old. He
reached up and covered the hand print already rising on his cheek.
“I deserved that,” he mumbled, facing a quietly stewing Yana.
His sister bared her teeth at him when she said, “She left! What the hell did you say that
made her leave? I thought you had this taken cared off? I thought she was supposed to take
the contract extension.”
“She left?”
“As if you already didn’t know?”
At the risk of angering Yana further, Luka shook his head. “I’ve been here the whole time,
sleeping off the alcohol.”
She paced at the foot of his bed. “What made you get drunk anyway?”
Guilt more than nausea twisted inside Luka’s gut. “I messed up.”
“You think?” she shrieked, her eyes shooting hot pokers of accusation at him without
slowing her pacing. “What the hell did you do?”
Luka dropped his hand from his cheek along with his gaze. Having his sister lecture him
must be the most emasculating thing he’d ever been through. But he sucked it up. She
needed to know if they were to fix this.
“I might have told her about Phoenix,” he forced himself to say.
The answering shriek made Luka wish he hadn’t woken up until most of the alcohol had
left his system. He winced, kneading the pounding in his left eye. Being half drunk didn’t help his case at all. It fuzzed up his brain enough to prevent him from focusing on more than one
thing. Right now all he could think about was this moment with his sister or his head might
explode.
Yana stopped her pacing and slapped her thighs. “Of all the stupid, idiotic things…” She
took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. “Luka, you’re better than this! Phoenix is
now with Demitri. Deal with it!”
“But—”
“No! No buts.” She wagged a finger at him. “I let you postpone the tour because we could
all use a break from the drama. Little did I know that the postponement would lead us to
something big, assuming I’m right about her. Everything should have been smooth sailing yet
you let your childishness get in the way. Well, not anymore. I’ll think of a way to get her back, but you need to get your shit together for this to work.” Yana’s anger melted away with the
drooping of her shoulders. Sadness weighed down the corners of her lips. “This is not the
Luka I know. Put yourself back together, brother. We need you. Now, get out of that bed. The
rebirth ceremony is about to start.”
Luka fell back into bed only to stare at the ceiling when Yana left. Yes, he hadn’t been
himself and he let his toxic feelings get in the way. He’d acted in a way unbecoming of his
stature. His father would be so proud to be proven right about him.
“Dakota,” he whispered her name as if the power in the word would bring her back. He
knew better than that.
He didn’t care about who Yana thought Dakota was. To Luka, she was something much
more. He just didn’t realize it until he’d hurt her, and now he might have lost her forever.
Sitting up, Luka pushed off the bed. He wouldn’t accept defeat. She might be hurting right
now, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t make this right. He had to try. He had to bring her back.
The car ride to Lunar Manor raised his suspicions about her. When she slept on his
shoulder and began to dream he attempted to see what she was seeing. When something
blocked his attempts to walk into her dream, he told Yana about it and they’d been keeping an
eye on Dakota ever since, but nothing really happened. Only that Luka couldn’t enter her
dreams. It frustrated him to no end. For many nights, Yana and Luka theorized about her, not
really finding an answer until Luka accidentally mentioned Dakota’s scars. Yana became
convinced, to the point of obsession, about Dakota’s true identity then.
Luka needed more proof if he was to believe Yana. He hurried to an armoire and collected
a bronze bowl. Entering the living room of his quarters, he placed the bowl on the coffee table and sat on the couch. He needed to hurry if he wanted to get this right and not be late for the ceremony. He didn’t need another reason for Yana to be even more pissed at him.
With a wave of his hand, the bowl filled a quarter of the way with water. A snap of his
fingers later, flames danced on the water’s surface. Staring into the orange tongues, he
reached inside his pocket and produced a picture of Dakota he’d taken without her knowing.
He stared at her face. It was caught on a smile, the corner of her eye crinkling. Running out of time, Luka placed the photo into the flames. As its edges blackened and the image curled into
itself, he recited three times:
Ancient power within me,
I call upon thee.
Hear my plea.
I push my limit to cross over consciousness
into these unknown realms to me and myself.
Only I shall discover the way to unlock her dreams.
So mote it be.
So mote it be.
So mote it be.
A gust of wind from the open terrace doors snuffed out the flames. The water drained,
leaving the ashes the photo of Dakota had become. The gray flecks spiraled out of the bowl to
dance in front of Luka before leaving through the terrace into the darkest part of the night. A small grin spread across his face as he pushed up from the couch and sauntered out of his
room to meet the rest of the band at the lake.
~See you in Book 2~
Relish Sneak Peek
Luka Visraya—the handsome rock god that I carelessly let into my heart. I deserved the
pulsing pain in my chest. I knew better and yet I didn’t listen to my gut. I ignored all the red flags. Of course he was in love with someone else. Of course!
I let a tear fall when the scene of Luka singing to me while I lay “asleep” on a concrete slab came on. I should have known the whole song was a metaphor for his love for Phoenix. How
she’d become poison in his veins after she left him for Demitri. The dress with the feathers
should have tipped me off too. Phoenix equaled bird that flew from the ashes, the very tattoo
Luka had inked all over his back. Ugh! I hated myself.
“I’m beginning to think you can’t start your day without watching that stupid video.”
Exhaling a shuddering breath, I closed my eye just as Luka leaned in to kiss me and wiped
away my tears. I sniffed and straightened my shoulders.
“It’s not a stupid video,” I said, looking up at the classically handsome guy with bed head
grinning down at me.
“Just because you’re in it.” He bent and claimed my lips. I tasted the coffee with its cream
and sugar on his tongue. I grimaced and pushed him away playfully.
“You put way too much sugar in your coffee, Larry.”
Yes. I rebounded on Laurel Hardy, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Gossip, our ironically
named college paper. I insisted on no strings attached and he agreed. Now he spent most
nights at my apartment, and I let him because I couldn’t stand sleeping alone. The dreams…I
shook my head. I needed someone to be there when I woke up. I needed the warmth of
another body beside me, the feel of hands on my body, the oblivion an orgasm brought. I got
all of that from Larry for the low, low price of $9.99.
Another thing to hate Luka for. In thirty days he’d made me codependent. The guilt of
using Larry for my comfort twisted in my gut. Larry knew this. I’d made it clear from the
start. Still he stayed. I got the feeling he suspected my recklessness with his feelings came
from my stay with Vicious. He’d been the one to help me with the NDA, so when I got back
broken he must have put the two together.
Larry snorted at my criticism of his taste in morning pick-me-ups. “Miss Sweet Tooth? I
don’t get why you’re drinking your coffee straight up these days. You used to put at least
three packets of the white stuff in your mug.”
“Don’t make me sound like a sugar addict.” I stared into the dregs of my cup. In the
background, the video had ended, displaying smaller screens featuring other Vicious music
videos. I curled my fingers to suppress the need to click Replay.
“Alright,” he sighed out, smoothing down my hair in a sweet caress. “I get it. I won’t push.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, not really feeling the gratitude today. That fucking dream, man, it
messed something up in me.
“Want another cup?”
I offered him my mug, doing my best Oliver Twist impression. He chuckled and sauntered
to my kitchen in just his boxers. I took a second to admire his ass before minimizing the
YouTube browser. I cued up my photo manipulation software, ready for another long day.
“Why are you up so early anyway? It’s not even six.” I asked as I pulled up one of Dray’s
splatter drumming photos. I’d been tweaking the tinting for the past two days. I needed to get it right soon or I wouldn’t have time for the rest of the photos before I brought them to
Eddy’s for framing.
“I have to head to the library before my first class and check out a couple of law books for
my debate this week,” Larry replied over his shoulder. He puttered about in the kitchen and
soon the sizzle of eggs and the scent of cooking bacon reached me. “How’s the project going?”
“Slow.” I grumbled curses under my breath.
The Spring Showcase opened the first of March and ran a week. Then I would have to
defend my introspective to a panel consisting of the dean and several photography
luminaries. My heartbeat sped up from zero to sixty at the thought. I had a week to finish
everything. Framing took another week, and that was cutting it close because Eddy loved me.
He wouldn’t do anyone else that kind of favor. I’d frame the pictures myself if I didn’t have to write the paper that actually went with the pictures. In ten pages I needed to explain the
theme behind the introspective and my driving force for the images. I could actually feel time slipping away between my fingers. I had so much to do.
“I get that you want the pictures to turn out perfect, but at some point you need to let go
and let your talent speak for itself.”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered.
“I heard that.”
I didn’t flinch at the admonition in Larry’s tone. He’d already been accepted to several of
the top law schools in the country. He had his pick, so I found it hypocritical of him to tell me to let go when he poured over countless pro and con lists every night. I kept telling him to
pick one already. Did he listen to me? About as much as I listened to him.
“Come on.” He waved me over to the table he’d set. “You get cranky and attack my lists