“Gabriella,” Dorian breathes. I remain silent, too hurt and confused to acknowledge him. “I would give you everything your heart desires if I could. I would marry you. I would have children with you. I would do anything you wanted me to. But that life is just not possible for either one of us. You have to stop believing that there is a place for us in this world. It will only bring you heartache. This isn’t where we belong.”
I slam down the tube of mascara I am holding and it shakes the steel desk. “Ok, Dorian, I get it! I’ll never fit in. I’ll never have a normal life. Come on, I haven’t for the last twenty years, why start now?”
I shake my head apologetically at my foolishness. “You know, I used to think that I wanted to be extraordinary. That I wanted something more than the whole cookie cutter American dream. I wanted to be special. And now that I am, so much so that there is a killer after me, I just want to press rewind and enjoy my old, boring life. Take extra time to appreciate Chris and Donna, and all my friends.”
I feel Dorian’s strong hands on my shoulders and he lightly kneads away the tension. Those magic fingers. “You still have time, little girl. Don’t give up just yet.”
I reach my hand up to touch his fingers with mine, spinning around in the swivel chair to face him. “Thank you. I know you’re trying to help, trying to make the transition easier for me.” I give him pensive smile. “What will happen afterwards? Once I ascend? I’ll have to leave, huh?”
Dorian strokes the line of my jaw with the back of his hand, igniting tiny tingles throughout my entire body. “Not right away. Most likely you’ll be summoned to either Rome or Greece, depending on what side you choose. Ordinarily, they would appoint your…job, per say, based on the skill set you were birthed with. Then you are assigned a region. However, with your unique circumstances, I can’t be certain what would happen. I’d imagine that you could ultimately write your own destiny.”
I nod. “I don’t want much to change. I want to stay here. I wanna come to work every day. I wanna go out with my friends. I wanna have Sunday dinner with Chris and Donna every week.” I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his white dress shirt. “And I want you here. I don’t want you to leave.”
Dorian squeezes me tight, resting his chin on the top of my head before kissing my hair. “I know, little girl. I want to stay with you too.”
My head snaps up with alarm. “So you have to go? Wait, I thought you were assigned here?”
Dorian gives me an apologetic half-smile. “I’m royalty, baby. I’m only here to oversee your ascension. Then I go back to Greece. Back home.”
Before I can protest, Dorian’s face transforms to one of pure disgust and hatred. He closes his eyes and stands upright, his body vibrating with anger. When they reopen, they flash white hot, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
“What? What’s wrong?” I question with alarm.
“Stavros. Shit! I have to go.” Dorian stiffly kisses my forehead then brings my hand to his face, where he gently brushes my knuckles against his lips, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he takes a step backwards and dissipates before my eyes, only leaving behind plumes of grey.
I stand in my tiny office, speechless and disheveled. What the hell just happened here? First the Dark King tricks me into meeting with him resulting in Dorian’s erratic, yet pleasurable, reaction, then he just disappears?
“Fucking Warlocks,” I mutter under my breath before heading back out to the sales floor to finish my shift.
When I arrive home that evening, I receive two text messages, one from Dorian and the other from Jared, the two most important men in my life. Oh, the irony. I open Dorian’s first, hoping for some type of explanation for his sudden departure. Unfortunately, I come up disappointed.
From Dorian, 9:36 P.M.
-I must go to Greece immediately. I should be back by the end of the week but I will try to email you to confirm. I love you, little girl. In life and in death.
What the hell? No! Something serious must be going down for him to run off so quickly. At least there better be. Before I follow through with my plan to throw my phone against my bedroom wall out of sheer annoyance, I open the second text message.
From Jared, 9:40 P.M.
-Hey Gabs, think you can meet up with me sometime this week? I have something I really wanna talk to you about and I need to say it face to face. Cool? Can’t wait to see you.
Well, that’s interesting. What is it with the men in my life being so cryptic lately? I take a deep breath and hit reply, shaking my head.
To Jared, 9:41 P.M.