章節 4: Chapter 4: Attraction
All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind. - Kahlil Gibran
Soft running water rhythmically pounds in my ears.
Opening my eyes sends a sharp, intense pain shooting through my head. A wave of vertigo shakes my body. Lying in the fetal position, I draw my knees to my chest. When the wave of nausea subsides, I attempt to open my eyes once again. Groaning in discomfort, I roll onto an elbow.
'I would not do that if I were you.' A man's voice echoes in my ears.
"My head, it's pounding. Where am I? Where's Morph?"
'You are safe.'
"The lights . . ." I raise a hand to shield my eyes.
'They are organic.'
"What happened?" I push my body up on trembling arms. "Why do I feel s-so strange?" My chest tightens.
Another wave of vertigo hits, knocking me off balance. I fall onto a hard surface and roll.
Arms quickly embrace me. I'm weightless.
A beating heart drums in my ear. The warmth of skin presses against my cold and shivering flesh, then a soft surface cradles me.
'Can you open your eyes?' He has a smooth, velvety tone of voice.
"I think so."
My eyes open, but everything is fuzzy - just out of focus. Blinking, I try to clear my vision, but the room is spinning. Wiping my eyes with the back of my hands, I realize I'm crying.
'Give it time.' He strokes my face.
I stare at his lips, but they aren't moving.
"What is this? Where am I?" Pushing up on my arms, I sit. My stomach lurches. "Where's Morph? Where is he?"
'He will be fine.' The man eases my body back onto the surface I'm lying on. 'My people are caring for him.'
His hand cups the side of my face. The warmth of his breath on my neck makes me shiver and my heart races.
"What do you mean, your people? Who are you? Are you with them, the ones who shot - ?"
'No, I am not with them. And Sarah, you are safe.'
"How do you know my name?" Every muscle in my body tenses. "And why in the hell aren't your lips moving when you talk?"
"Because I was channeling my thoughts to you direct using telepathy. Would you prefer I speak out loud?"
I nod. "Who are you?"
"I am called Vladimir, after my father's father. And no, I am not with them. You may address me as Vlad."
My thoughts remain hazy and linger just out of reach. "Your eyes. I've seen them before." My hand glides across a scratch above his cheekbone.
"Yes, you have seen me before."
He brushes a stray strand of hair out of his face.
No, not hair, it's something else. They look like thin tentacles that move independently of one another. The base of each strand is as thick as a coffee stir. As they taper off, they lighten. The ends have white, limpid tips.
"Who are you and your people?"
"We are part of the Aveline colony." His gentle touch on my skin warms my flesh.
An image of the pond flashes across my mind. Oh God, the pond. "Wait. Don't touch me." I strike his hand from my face. "I know who you are."
"It is not what you think." He captures my wrists in the palms of his hands.
"Not what I think? You tried to drown me."
"No, I rescued you and your pet. The men had planned on taking both of you."
My heart thuds, and my eyes dart around the room seeking an escape route.
A large water feature sits in the middle of the room. There's a closed door to the right of the fixture.
How do I get out of here? I have to get to the door.
"Do not entertain leaving. You have zero chance of getting out of this room, alone."
His words make my stomach muscles tighten.
The surface under my hands is smooth. I'm on top of a couch, at least, it appears to be one. The contours of the piece of furniture are sleek and streamline.
Soft folds of fabric cascade down the length of the frame and have an iridescent coloration that picks up on the vivid color patterns in the room. The walls, made of smooth rock and dome-shaped, remind me of the inside of a cave.
Pinning me down under the weight of his lean frame, he obstructs my view.
"Give your body time to adjust. You are not used to the pressure at this depth."
"Pressure - this depth - what are you talking about? Let me go." I'm unable to keep the tremor out of my voice.
Seizing my wrists, he holds them in the palm of his hand, hauling them above my head. My heart pounds so loud in my ears, it's deafening, and I'm sure he can hear every racing beat.
"I cannot do that right now." His voice is firm but gentle. "However, I will let you go when you calm down." Lowering his head, he inspects my restrained hands.
"What are you doing?" Instead of fear rising within me, anger bubbles.
He pulls on my fingers, examining each one. "Your fingers contain webbing. How is that?"
"It's called Syndactyly." I struggle against his hold, trying to wiggle loose.
"No, Syndactyly is more of a fusing of the skin or bone. You have webbing like this."
Holding up a hand, he exposes a loose flap of skin between each knuckle that resembles webbing.
Whoa, I've never seen someone else with webbed fingers before.
"And your toes, are they webbed?"
"I don't see how that's any of your business. Now let me up."
"You wear contacts." He searches my eyes with an astute gaze. "What color are your eyes?"
"What the hell's wrong with you?" Yanking a hand loose, I push his face away from me. But he recaptures my wrists, restraining me once more. "Ever hear of personal space? Or is that not a thing here?"
Squirming under him, I free a knee, drawing it upward. Vlad twists to the side as if anticipating my move. He blocks the blow with a hand. Peering at him, I swallow a lump in my throat.
"Do not try that again." He pins my legs under his. "I do not wish to injure you."
"Then let me go."
His hand trails down my side.
A surge of electricity courses through my body where his fingers touch me.
"Answer the question." He whispers the words next to my ear, and my skin prickles with goose bumps.
"If I answer the question, will you release me?"
"Yes, what color are your eyes?"
"Under the contacts, they look pink. Now let go."
"Then, you have both xeroderma pigmentosum and albinism?" His brows shoot up, and he redistributes his weight, pressing his hips against me.
"Yes, what are you doing?" My lower lip quivers, making it hard to annunciate the words. "What? Are you taking a damn medical census? Now, are you going to let go of me, or not?"
"I am not your enemy." He relaxes his hold on my wrists.
"Really? Then what are you?"
The tips of his fingers brush the bottom of my lip, freeing it from my teeth.
A tremor washes up and down my body.
His touch is electric, sending a charge coursing from my head down to my toes. The green depths of his emerald eyes hold me spellbound.
"Breathe," Vlad whispers. "You are safe here." He rises on his arms, and his limbs intertwine with mine.
Placing my hands flat on the couch, I scoot away from him. The motion thrusts my body upward, pressing my breasts against his lean chest.
He grins wolfishly, shaking his head. "Try to relax."
The first flutter of butterflies in the pit of my belly stir, and my cheeks heat up.
"I will move and let you up." His eyes brighten.
"About time." Sucking in a deep breath, I force my body to relax.
He rolls to the side, pulling me to a sitting position next to him on the couch.
I draw my legs up, hugging them to my chest. My damp clothing clings to my frame. A new wave of goose bumps erupts over my flesh.
"I am sorry you are cold." Vlad grabs a blanket off the back of the couch. He stands and drapes the warm fabric over my body, covering my shoulders and feet.
"Thank you." I wrap the soft, fluffy blanket tighter around me. Hell, why am I thanking him, I'm cold because of this guy.
"You are welcome." He runs a hand through his hair.
"What did you do to me?"
"What do you mean?" He sits next to me on the couch and takes hold of my hand.
The contact sends a plethora of tiny sparks of energy surging under my skin. Sliding a hand to my wrist, he meticulously examines my fingers, one at a time.
"Do not be frightened. I have no desire to hurt you."
"Good to know." I swallow hard. "Why do I hear your thoughts?"
"You are different." The soft timber in his voice makes my stomach flip-flop. 'That is why they wanted you.'
"I don't understand. Who wanted me? Who're you talking about?"
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