Together. "So are we together? I mean, we've just never talked about it." Though he's already bonded me for life. No big deal.
Dorian chuckles again. "I should say so! But if you must label it, you are mine and I am yours. Like I told you before, you can be whatever you want to me."
I smile instinctively. He's mine. Dorian-freakin'-Skotos is mine. That's right, bitches!
"I like being yours."
Dorian returns my amorous gaze. "I love it."
Hours later, with the sun bright overhead, we ride the few minutes to Paralia. Dorian has insisted that we stop by before going to my house to pack up my things. He even arranged everything for the move.
"So what is it that you want me to see, Dorian?" I ask as we walk down the short path to the apartment reserved for Morgan and me.
"I have a surprise for you," he smiles. He reaches over and places his hand in mine, then brings it up to his lips to plant a tender kiss on my knuckles. My body instantly reacts to his touch and a flood of tingles sprout from my fingertips and up my arm.
"A surprise? What now?"
Dorian already insisted we take one of the furnished units to save us money on buying furniture. Had I known he would fill it with plush leather couches, dark mahogany high tables, and top of the line appliances, I would have declined. The apartment was already too much, especially since he wouldn't accept any payment from either of us.
We step into the luxury apartment, the smell of leather and freshly polished wood greeting us. I take in the high vaulted ceilings and wrought-iron chandeliers in awe. Living here will take some getting used to. I just hope I do a good enough job at Cashmere to make up for it.
"Through here. In your room," he says leading me past the stainless steel kitchen and down the hall.
Morgan insisted I take the larger bedroom though I assured her she could have it. Her wardrobe alone could fill an entire room. I think she'd feel uncomfortable taking the larger one considering what Dorian has done for us.
We step inside and I am nearly floored at the sight before me. Dorian has completely transformed the bare white walls and hardwood floors into something that can only be described as utterly astonishing. A light blue color, similar to the cerulean blue that made him look so young and free, bathes three of the four walls. The fourth is painted gunmetal grey, housing a giant sconce fashioned in the same design as the pendant he gave me. It's a large round mirror, adorned with glittering white crystals. Around those crystals lie black ones, equally dazzling. Reflexively, my hand flies up to my beautiful necklace, fingering the diamonds and delicate pearl center.
Below the sconce, lies a modern, simple yet stylish bed. It is very Dorian, with its sleek black comforter, crisp white sheets and alternating blue and black pillows. Simple nightstands sit on either side of the bed, matching perfectly with the giant dresser and armoire stationed against the blue walls. Framed black and white prints of famous musicians and artists also adorn the walls. Nestled in one of the corners lies a plush black chaise lounge littered with blue pillows, coupled with what looks to be some kind of sound system. It is extremely streamlined and a far cry from my rinky-dink iPod dock. The speakers are tiny yet I am sure they pump out enough sound to vibrate a concert hall. It's all so overwhelming and more than I could ever imagine.
"Dorian! Oh my God! When did you do this?" I exclaim, crushing my body to his with excitement.
"While you were sleeping," he smiles slyly.
My eyes narrow slightly. "You left me?"
Dorian flashes me a knowing crooked grin. "No."
My face alights with awe. "It's amazing. Thank you." I shake my head in disbelief. "I'll never get used to how well you know me. Better than I know myself sometimes, I think."
"You really think so?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.
"I know so. Look at this place," I say, gesturing around the room. "I could have never come up with something like this. And the truth is I don't know myself. I don't really know my likes and dislikes. I don't have any real hobbies. I only know what I was spelled to know. That's not a life; that's a mirage. Meeting you, being with you, has given me something real. It's made me realize who I was truly meant to be."
Dorian looks down at me lovingly and I think he's about to tell me that he's known who I was all along, that he's loved me for who I was. Instead he scoops me up into his arms and swings me around, causing me to squeal. We end up on the bed, both laughing as if nothing else in the world matters. And in this moment, nothing else does matter. It's just me and him. Forever.
"I'm pretty sure you know what you like," he notes, hovering over me. He props himself up on one elbow. "See. You like this, right?" And with that, Dorian rubs his thumb over the fabric covering my left nipple.
"Mmmm, yes, I do," I breathe, closing my eyes.
Dorian then moves to the right breast, fingering the area ever so gently. "And this?"
"I like that too. So much," I murmur.
I feel Dorian's hands drift under my shirt, his fingers skimming my bare stomach. His touch sends little shockwaves to every nerve ending and a reflexive moan escapes my lips. In the next moment, I feel the wetness of his warm tongue at my belly button.
"Oh God, Dorian. That feels so good," I say with a strained voice. My hands travel down to take a handful of his hair. Suddenly, Dorian's head snaps up, his eyes flickering white hot. "What's wrong?" I ask with alarm. I sit up and look around me furiously.
"Fuck!" he shouts, his eyes ablaze with anger. He's on his feet, though my human eyes don't detect the movement. I notice the air around him quivering.
"What? What is it?" Oh crap, what did I do?
"It's Aurora. Something has happened. We have to go," he explains, pulling me to my feet.
He tugs me out of the apartment, ignoring my questions as to what could be wrong. Once we're in the car, his fists pummel the steering wheel, shaking the entire car, before looking at me with regretful eyes. Oh shit. It's bad.
Against my better judgment, I reach a shaky hand towards him, resting it on his forearm. "What is it? Please talk to me."
"I am so sorry, Gabriella. We have to go to the hospital."
"Why, Dorian? What is going on?" I plead.
Dorian shakes his head, revving up the car and whipping out of the parking lot at dangerous speed. He still refuses to talk to me, though I know he can feel my questioning eyes burn a hole in the side of his head.
I blow out an agitated breath. "Damn it, Dorian! Tell me!"
Again, Dorian ignores my pleas, causing me to shout expletives and demand he talk to me right this instant. My heart is racing and every alarm bell in my head sounds simultaneously. What could have happened to make his mood shift so drastically?
Dorian races towards Memorial Hospital, turning every approaching streetlight green. He's concentrating, baring his teeth like a vicious animal. I know he must be still in deep conversation with Aurora, and it kills me that it's not me he's talking to. Though he refuses to make eye contact with me, I can see his eyes are gleaming with intense rage. I quiet my tirade for answers and try to focus my breathing, feeling the familiar trembling of my hands. I'm about to lose it, and if Dorian doesn't tell me what's going on, he may be in the line of fire.
When we finally pull into a space in the hospital's garage, Dorian looks to me with sadness etched in his beautiful face. The sight pains me and causes the storm behind my own eyes to calm instantly. What could be troubling him? What has Aurora told him?
"My love, I am so sorry," he murmurs, quieting the car's engine.
"Dorian, what is it? Just tell me," I whisper.
Dorian closes his baby blues and turns his head away as if he is physically pained. When he returns his gaze to me, they are dark and solemn. I've never seen him so shaken, so affected, and it frightens me.
"There's been another incident. Another victim," he finally says. "The killer has returned."
Chapter Seven
There's no worse feeling than knowing that you are directly responsible for someone else's pain. But when it is someone you love that is suffering, and you can't do anything but sit back and watch, that is truly unbearable. No one deserves to die, especially because of me. They didn't ask for this life; I didn't ask for it either. But as I run down the long corridor of Memorial Hospital towards the Emergency Department, there's no way I can shake the guilt. I caused this.
"Jared! Oh my God, what happened?" I shriek, running into his arms. He cradles me into his large biceps, holding me close to his chest. His heart is racing, and I know my dear friend is in immense pain. Though I'm well aware that both Dorian and Aurora are watching us intently, I don't care. I can't. Jared needs me and I don't care how it looks.
"Gabs," he chokes out hoarsely. I feel his trembling lips in my hair, and I squeeze him tighter. "I'm so glad you're here."
I look up at my frightened friend. "Just tell me. What happened?" I whisper. Dorian still has not informed me of the latest victim and seeing Jared so shaken is making me think the worst. I usher him over to a row of blue plastic seats.