Stone Lover (11 page)
Authors: A. C. Warneke
“You said sexual?” he asked, impossibly even more intrigued.
“Well, yes,” she nodded, moistening her lips with her tongue. She tried, she really did, to stop her ramblings but she just couldn’t. It didn’t matter that her cheeks were most likely glowing in mortification. “My friend stripped down to her bare skin and, um, well, yeah. It was sexual.”
Thank God she was able to stop herself from telling him exactly what it was her friend did and with what she did it. Unfortunately, Omari seemed to understand without her having to say it out loud, which was just as embarrassing. Lowering her lashes, she asked, “So, can you help me?”
“I have a charm that will shield you from a variety of… mischief, spells included,” he told her, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a long, silver chain with a small, flat disc attached. He held it out and she could see that what appeared to be a simple piece of metal actually contained a small, pale green stone, surrounded by letters in a foreign language. It was exquisite.
She lifted her eyes to his, and in a soft, reverent voice, asked, “What does it say?”
Leaning forward, he clasped it around her neck and she absently realized that the smell of freshly ground nutmeg and cinnamon was coming from him. She swallowed as he let his fingers move down the chain to the pendant as it lay between her breasts. Even through her clothes she could feel the energy pulsing from the piece of jewelry. Unless that was Omari.
“Basically, it says, ‘Protect the wearer of this charm against all harm,’” he said, his voice soft and deeply seductive. Her gaze was trapped by his once more as he continued, “It’s simple yet powerful; and the chrysoprase stone enhances the spell.”
“Chrysoprase?” she asked, surprised that any sound came out at all. She put her hand over his, feeling the power humming beneath her fingertips.
“The stone,” he said, his hazel eyes starting to glow from within. He was so close, she could feel the breath of his words against her skin. “It offers physical protection and spiritual protection.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” she breathed.
“Because you feel it in your soul,” he whispered. Her breath caught in her throat at such a simple, straight-forward statement; it had been the truth! Leaning back, he chuckled, laughing at her and breaking the spell, “Or perhaps you are simply too trusting and I could not live with myself if something were to happen to you.”
“But you don’t even know me.”
“I know what I need to know,” he grinned, winking at her. “I know enough to show you my true form.”
“So the old man is the illusion,” she nodded, pleased with that conclusion. “I was leaning in that direction.”
He laughed again, though she wasn’t trying to be funny. Pulling an indigo blue card out of thin air, he handed it to her. His name was printed on it in gold ink, as well as the address of the store. He pointed at the address, “This will let you know where I am should you ever need me. You know, in case you require another spell. Or if you are looking for a new lover.”
She stared at him in silence, not sure whether he was being serious or if he was teasing her. Once more, his laughter filled the room as he stood up. Reaching down, he grabbed her hand and easily pulled her to her feet. He leaned forward, until she felt his breath against the side of her neck, “I couldn’t touch you until his aura surrounding you fell away. And I don’t sense that happening any time soon.”
He leaned back and smiled down at her, “Oh, well. I guess I’ll just have to wait a while longer until I have sex with a human.”
She jerked her head back to look at him but she was standing outside on the street, staring at the closed sign on the window of his shop. Her jacket was zipped up, her hat pulled down over her ears and her scarf wrapped snuggly around her face. If she didn’t feel the warmth of the medallion between her breasts, she would have sworn it had all been a dream.
In a daze, she walked back to her apartment building, wondering what else she had missed throughout the years. Were Vaughn and his brothers more than what they seemed? Given the events of the past twenty-four hours, she was going to have to assume they were. The question that remained, however, was what were they? And could she live with whatever Vaughn was?
Could she live without him was equally as important and just as easily answered: no. Maybe he and his brothers
were
some sort of succubae. No, that was the female version, duh; they would be incubi. But she didn’t feel drained after she had sex with Vaughn; she felt… invigorated. So, he probably wasn’t an incubus. Unless everything she knew about incubi – which was admittedly very little – was wrong. Still, she doubted he was an incubus.
Vampire? She chuckled at the thought; she doubted vampires even existed.
Of course, until a few hours ago she was pretty sure magic wasn’t real. No, that wasn’t quite true; she believed magic existed, she just never thought she would ever experience it. Still, she doubted he was a vampire; after all, he didn’t suck her blood. Though he did make her scream.
Smiling to herself, she decided that Vaughn and his brothers were most likely human because if they weren’t – if he wasn’t – she wasn’t at all sure how she was going to handle it. In her heart, she hoped she would be okay with whatever he was but in actuality… what if he was a shape-shifting troll or a goblin and he was trying to lure her in wearing a Vaughn mask?
She chuckled softly at her absurd thoughts; Vaughn was simply… Vaughn. And if he was a troll or a goblin, she would just have to deal with it. Either way, she wanted to get to know him better, to see if there could be more to their relationship, if she could call it that, besides some pretty fantastic sex.
Melanie entered her apartment, sighing as she threw the keys on the table. There were so many things to think about and the cold weather might have helped if it hadn’t been for the encounter with Omari and his shop of oddities. Her thoughts were even more jumbled then before but one thing was certain – she was tremendously thankful that she hadn’t lost her memory of Vaughn the night before. She just hoped the charm worked and any more attempts on erasing her memory were in vain.
Of course, if it came to it, it probably wouldn’t bother her since she wouldn’t remember and how horrible would it be to forget Vaughn?
After she was out of her winter clothes, she ran her fingers through her hair, hoping it wasn’t permanently flattened. She still had to find another way up to the roof and there was only an hour or so of daylight left. She had probably missed something when she first moved in a couple of days before, though she couldn’t imagine what. There had been no doors that led to the roof, except through the private quarters of Armand’s apartment. Which was strange; usually buildings had access to the roof, if for no other reason than maintenance.
It didn’t matter how she managed to get up on the roof again, only that she discovered a way so she could see her magnificent gargoyle; a gargoyle that weirdly reminded her of Vaughn. Probably because they were both lions.
If she couldn’t find the passage in the next day or two, she was going to have to get that ladder after all. She really hated that idea.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed with legs twitching, too restless to sit still, too tired to pace, she weighed her possibilities. She could go through Armand’s apartment, at least one last time, and explain to her gargoyle why she was no longer able to visit him. But that would imply the gargoyle would understand her and that was just insane. He was a stone statue. He probably didn’t care one way or the other whether she saw him ever again.
No, if she were being honest, she wanted to go up and see him for her own peace of mind. She wanted to say goodbye to her strange connection to the stone beast. If she weren’t such a chicken, she would buy that ladder and risk her life and limb to climb it. She didn’t think she would ever be able to, not even for her beautiful gargoyle.
Damn; that left breaking and entering again, though it could hardly be considered breaking and entering when there were no locks on any of the doors leading from her apartment to the roof. Maybe she would be able to ask Omari if he had some sort of spell that would make Armand give her permission to traipse through his home just so she could gain access to the roof. She snorted, doubting there was anything powerful enough to get the black-haired man to change his mind. And if she attempted it, he would be furious and she knew that no magic charm could protect her then.
She glanced at her watch, then looked out the window; the sun was going to be setting in less than an hour. It would not be wise to press her luck, especially if she planned on a little B and E. Taking the chance that the police would be called on her would be idiotic; she’d be evicted from her apartment and sent to jail and she wasn’t sure which would be the worse punishment.
Throwing herself back onto the bed, she put her hand over the charm and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe she could wait until night fell and then knock on Armand’s door and introduce herself properly, assuming she could find the door. And maybe she could discover how often Vaughn visited so she could set up an accidental meeting. Or she could wait until she knew whether her new protection charm actually worked before she threw herself before Armand.
It was obvious Armand was just trying to protect him and his brothers; and that was entirely noble, which meant she couldn’t hold it against him for making her life so difficult. If only she had exchanged phone numbers with Vaughn, then she wouldn’t have to be staring up at her ceiling trying to figure out what her next move should be. Since
Anyway, she still had to return Peter’s call and find out what he wanted. She just didn’t have the energy to call back or the desire to talk to him. Between the sex, the lack of sleep and Omari, Peter was very low on her list of priorities. She’d call him in a few days; it was possible he was having a momentary panic attack brought on by being single during the holidays. She always felt a little nostalgic during the holidays, too.
Rolling onto her back, she closed her eyes, positively exhausted from her mind-shattering sex and subsequent sleepless night. She would only take a quick nap and then she would call Jenna, talk to her about last night’s events and check in on Ferris. Normally she would have called her sister first thing in the morning but she hadn’t been thinking clearly and she had to drive Vanessa home.
When she thought about it, she hadn’t talked to anyone, other than Omari, about what happened in the bathroom with Vaughn. After she finally got herself back together and said goodbye to him, she hadn’t wanted to share it with anyone. Besides, Frankie and Vanessa had been pretty drunk and oblivious to Melanie’s absence while they had danced with reckless abandon. One of the guys dancing with Vanessa had had his hand under the material of her dress and he looked quite happy fondling her breasts; the other guy was working up the courage to do the same. Maybe Vanessa would be relieved at not remembering last night’s behavior.
Of course, Melanie was the one who had unprotected sex with a beautiful stranger in the bathroom of a crowded bar so who was she to judge anything her friend did?
Just the thought of what happened in the bathroom made her blood sizzle. If she concentrated hard enough, she could still taste him on her tongue, feel him in her body. She would always remember how Vaughn had made her tremble. With her skin burning, she seized the hem of her shirt and yanked the blasted thing from her body.
She grabbed the small pendant and lifted it up, studying it in the low light of her bedroom. The stone flashed as the light hit it; it was really quite pretty. And whatever language that was engraved on it, the letters were delicate and oddly compelling. It would be interesting to know which language it was; it certainly didn’t look like any language she had ever seen. Maybe it was a faerie language.
Running her thumb over the strange markings, she smiled; the faint whirring was still there. The metal was warm, an antique patina darkening it, and the stone was set in the middle of the disc. It didn’t have any prongs holding it in place; it was as if the stone stayed put by sheer force of will. Or magic.
She laughed at herself, the laugh turning into a jaw cracking yawn as she continued to examine her new necklace. Maybe Omari was playing a practical joke on her and it was just a worthless trinket. Or maybe it was a priceless heirloom and some fairy was frantically searching for it, hoping that it didn’t get into the wrong hands.
