Chapter Eighteen

Selena

It’s a Miracle—Or Not

Morning light made my eyelids warm and heavy. I didn’t want to open them for the rest of the day, but the chirping birds outside said “Wake up! Wake up!” The smell of peonies filled the deep breath I exhaled into a yawn. I stretched sleepy arms, coaxing them awake instead of giving in to the temptation of rolling over and sleeping some more. My skin tingled when deliciously soft fabric rubbed against my body.

Several lazy blinks later, I remembered the project and the sleepover. I groaned into a pillow. Did I have to wake up? Did I have to face another day involving his highness, National Geographic? I couldn’t take another minute of him. And that electric hug? Wow. My skin tingled just thinking about it. And he kept asking what I was like I wasn’t human or something. Definitely weird. Then he gets all cold and serious on me before he becomes all hot and sexy again carrying me back to the manor. He confused the hell out of me.

My gaze landed on the nightstand. The clock had its short hand on the nine and its long hand just before the twelve. A melted ice pack lay beside it. The fog of sleep lifted. I pulled away the covers and rolled out of bed without thinking. The instant my weight settled on both legs, I looked down.

No pain.

I tugged at the pant leg of my pajama bottoms. The swelling and bruising I vaguely remembered Riona treating last night wasn’t there anymore. I experimentally shifted all my weight to my supposedly injured leg. Still no pain. It didn’t make sense. I touched the ice pack, sliding it to the edge of the dresser. Sure, an ice pack could ease swelling, but a bruised knee healing overnight? Not possible. Or was it?

…

After getting dressed, walking down the hallway to the grand staircase without a limp became a surreal experience. Just like being chased by corpses—or whatever Dillan had called them. I half-expected the pain to come back when I least expected. It forced me to hold onto the railing just in case. Tumbling and breaking my neck wasn’t allowed.

The clink of utensils hitting plates and pleasant conversation stopped me just outside the archway entrance of the dining room. I stared at my jeans. I was sure what happened last night did happen. The pain had been real.

“Is there something the matter, Selena?” My head whipped up, and Riona’s eyebrows rose.

All previous conversation and eating stopped.

I straightened so fast I momentarily lost my balance.

Everyone sat—plates in front of them—with different expressions on their faces. Riona looked curious. Garret, who sat at the other end of the table in a dove gray suit, glanced at me once then went back to reading his morning paper. Kyle looked panicked for a second before putting on his usual calm. Dillan looked disinterested, while Constance got up and rushed to my side.

“I heard you fell last night. Does the knee still hurt?” she asked with genuine sympathy. “Do you need help getting to the table?”

I stared at Constance, unsure of what Dillan told them about last night. Deciding to play it cool, I said, “Actually, it doesn’t hurt anymore. The swelling’s gone. That was some ice pack you gave me, Riona.”

Kyle exchanged an odd glance with Riona before going back to eating his stack of pancakes. Riona’s beautiful face showed concern, but she said nothing. She pushed back from the table and walked over on dancer’s feet.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, sweet.” She held my face between her hands and kissed my cheekbones.

I endured her kisses and wondered why no one seemed concerned over my sudden recovery.

Riona led me to a buffet at one side of the dining room. It was filled with platters of pancakes, bacon, several cuts of cheese, toast, an assortment of cereal, sausages, eggs, and the usual breakfast beverages: orange juice, milk, coffee, and tea. The amount of food on that table could feed all the customers at Maggie’s at full capacity and still have leftovers. She went overboard. Usually—having only me and Penny over—she’d let us make our own breakfast.

“Come, Constance, let’s let Selena get her breakfast.” She pulled the smiling girl back to where she sat beside Kyle.

Confused, I surveyed the room.

Everyone resumed eating their breakfast like normal, regular people. But after what happened last night, the normal didn’t seem…well, normal. The scene reminded me of an obscure movie Kyle took me to a couple years ago about a girl that discovered the people in her hometown had been changed by aliens into mindless puppets. There was this part where the girl was telling her family at breakfast about the aliens. She didn’t know they had been changed, too. They turned on her, trying to kill her with forks and butter knives.

I grabbed a plate from the stack at the beginning of the buffet when my fears of being attacked went away. Once I picked out scrambled eggs and bacon, I carried my meal over to the dining room table. The only seat available was next to Dillan.

A table that could sit twelve comfortably only had six chairs. And—except for Garret—we were all seated near the head. Of all the freakin’ luck. Eating on the floor seemed like the better choice, but I doubted Riona would let me. I stifled the urge to move the chair closer to Garret’s end and sat down beside Mr. Rock-Star-National-Geographic.

“Feeling better?”

I flinched at his question. The temperature in the room went up a few more degrees. My body remembered how his arms felt wrapped around me. I sneaked a peek at his hand—holding his mug of coffee firmly—and my back tingled. My body turned traitor against my head. For some reason, I wanted to feel the electricity again.

“I’m fine,” I answered before stuffing my mouth with eggs to avoid saying anything else. It led to swallowing wrong and a coughing fit.

Dillan, with a neutral expression, handed me his glass of OJ.

I took the glass and gulped down the pulpy juice, causing more coughs.

“Easy.” He patted my back. Tiny zings coincided with each one. I guess, be careful what you wish for, huh?

Everyone watched us in silence at first. Then, like a bomb about to blow, a mass retreat followed. Kyle stood up, muttering something about getting the living room ready. Constance took a last sip of her hot chocolate before running after him. Riona commented about going into the garden, and Garret chuckled his way out, folded newspaper tucked under his arm.

“What just happened?” I covered my mouth, smothering the last of my coughs.

“Way to clear a room.” Dillan whistled. “Slow down. Don’t make me have to use the Heimlich on you.”

I wanted to tell him what he could do with his Heimlich. The smugness in his voice brought back the reasons why I hated him. But, by some miracle, I let the steam in me die down in favor of a more diplomatic approach.

“Why did they all leave?” I asked.

“Hell if I know. Just finish your breakfast.” He shrugged—a slight movement of his shoulders. “I’ll stay with you until you do. Chew this time.” He winked.

Normally, I would have been flustered by that devastating wink. However, the confusion provided far more discomfort. I had to know I wasn’t crazy. “Last night really happened…right?”

“If by ‘last night’ you mean your overdramatic exit from the living room after throwing a tub of glue at my head, then yes. It did happen.” He stabbed a piece of sausage hard. The fork tines clicked when they reached porcelain.

I moved chunks of egg around. He wasn’t going to let that go. I wanted to reply, but guilt choked it back. Fortunately for me, he was chatty this morning.

“If you mean the time after that when you were chased by five reanimated corpses, hurt your knee, and were saved by a dashing, sword-wielding guy, then yeah, it did happen, too.” He grinned before he took a bite of the sausage he’d skewered.

“Excuse me?” I dropped my fork with a clang. “If I recall, I was holding my own out there.”

“Eat your damn breakfast. We have a diorama to finish.”

Picking up my fork, I said, “You’re just pissed because I had to hold you afterward.”

His cheeks flushed. Score one for me then.

…

We separated once the diorama was completed. Just a report to put together tomorrow and we were all done. Riona asked Kyle to run an errand while Constance followed her to the garden. Dillan left the living room without telling anyone where he was going. I personally could care less where he went. Having nothing else to do, I went back to my room and packed my stuff. I wanted to be ready to leave as soon as possible. I’d had just about enough of this freaky weekend from hell. My phone buzzed on the side table.

Penny: Killed him yet?

Me: :(

Penny: Deets pls.

Not having the heart to reply, I left my phone on the table and went back down stairs to check if Kyle got back yet. I wanted to talk to him about what happened last night and my knee. I didn’t want lies between us, no matter how unbelievable the truth seemed. If there was someone who would understand, it would be my best friend. At the foot of the staircase, snippets of someone speaking floated toward me like soulful musical notes.

“As just as fair…”

My heartbeat quickened. As if with a mind of their own, my feet steered me toward the voice.

“…had worn them really about the same.”

A beam of light streamed through the library door left ajar. The large space had three walls dedicated exclusively to floor-to-ceiling shelves. A rolling ladder taller than me rested near the door, used for the hard-to-reach books. I’d only been into this room once before. Years ago, Kyle showed me his favorite reading chair—his father’s chair. But he never spoke of him anymore. The death of his parents stayed a taboo subject, and no one who knew him brought it up.

“Oh, I kept the first for another day!”

I slipped in quietly, not wanting to disrupt Dillan. I was mesmerized by the cadence of his voice and wanted to keep listening. He sat by the large fireplace, drawing all my attention as he kept reading.

“I shall be telling this with a sigh.”

He leaned back, shoulders squared and comfortable, with his legs apart. He held a small book in one hand. With the other, he lazily stroked a Russian Blue cat, its eyes heavy-lidded while the end of its tail flicked in contentment. The lower half of the cat’s body lounged between his legs while the upper half draped over his thigh.

Unexpected warmth gathered in my belly. I stuffed my hands into my pockets, feeling like a spy, like I shouldn’t see this. But I listened anyway, in awe of the way his voice pulled me to him.

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” He sighed like he tasted the meaning behind the words. The cat on his lap purred. “You like Frost, huh?” He glanced at the contented feline. “I know. The man can rhyme.”

I wanted to stand there forever, watching him read poetry to a cat with such a peaceful expression. If it could tolerate him, then maybe—a big maybe—he wasn’t so bad. The guy could be human after all.

“Stalking me again?”

The question startled me. I jerked and lost my balance. My shoulder collided with the rolling ladder. I winced, pain shooting down my arm. Nice. My smile wobbled when I steadied myself by grabbing the rail.

“Uh…um…why would I do that? I have a life. I was looking for Kyle.” A flaming blush spread across my cheeks. Lord, I was making a mess of myself.

The cat turned its head and stared at me with its stunning lime-green eyes. I quivered. Those eyes were almost too intelligent, as if to say: “Idiot.”

Dillan set the book aside, but continued stroking the cat’s steel-gray fur from head to tail.

“You made friends with Constantinople.” I pointed at the half-asleep cat. I swallowed, trying to stay cool in the presence of the heavy stares of a serious feline and a boy who made me feel hot and cold all at the same time. “He’s never good with strangers.”

Constantinople turned its head away from me and closed its eyes again, purring like a small generator. Remember that crazy part of me? Well, it wished, just a little, that I could take the its place. Even worse, I wondered how my skin would feel if his fingers decided to glide over it. Would I feel those tiny electric shocks again? Goose bumps rose on my arms and legs. I had to stop thinking dangerous things before I made a fool of myself.

“That’s your name.” He reached for one of the cat’s front paws. “It’s nice to meet you, Constantinople. Dillan Sloan, at your service.” He held the paw, and Constantinople gave him a warbling meow, which turned into a yawn. Mischief glittered in his eyes as he gave me a smile. “Never thought Robert Frost would send a cat snoozing.”

Who knew being in the presence of a playful Dillan Sloan was wickeder than being with the arrogant and annoying Dillan Sloan? One guy, two different people. It was enough to give me whiplash.

My heart sputtered. Damn, he looked good. I fought hard to stay focused. “I think it’s your voice.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I was there before I came here, but it’s not called Constantinople anymore.”

“What?” I reached for one of the rungs of the rolling ladder.

“Istanbul…I was just there.”

The change in his expression made me ache. He went from mischievous to lonely. He got so quiet, like he retreated into himself.

I let go of the ladder and stepped forward. “Why were you there? That’s in Turkey right?”

“Yes.” The gray cloud that settled above him lifted a little.

Without his usual, biting tone, he came off as vulnerable. I fought to concentrate on his next words in an effort to ignore the need to comfort him. Images of him in my arms while I whispered nonsense things into his ear woke flutters in my stomach.

“My parents are there on a yearlong dig just outside the city. They’re collaborating with Istanbul University and the Topkapi Palace.”

“And your parents took you with them?”

“My parents always take me with them when they’re on a dig.”

“But…what about school?” I took another tentative step forward and skimmed my fingers over the giant globe at the center of the room.

He gave me an are-you-learning-impaired look. A face I knew all too well. This was good. I could handle myself when on familiar territory.

“I usually stay in the city with my tutors. I was homeschooled until recently.”

“So why are you here?” I pretended to search for Turkey on the globe.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m here, you’re here, Constantinople is here.”

The cat settled its head on its front paws, murmuring as if in response to Dillan’s careless words.

“But it does matter!” I covered my mouth with both hands. Where the hell did that come from?

As if reading my mind, his eyebrows shot up. A hint of a grin formed on his lips. Constantinople gave me a withering stare, silently reprimanding me for disturbing his nap.

“Really? Why?” Mischief returned to those startling blue eyes, and something else…something unfamiliar that caused heat to flow under my skin.

Feeling weak against that stare, I hedged, “What matters? What did I say?”

That mocking eyebrow went up a notch, forcing my head to work on overtime. The smile accompanying it made me dizzy. Did the air in here just get lighter?

“Don’t play dumb.” He picked up a slightly disgruntled Constantinople as he stood and deposited the feline on the seat with deliberate yet graceful movements. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. The voice in me that told me to fight the corpses screamed for me to run now. But I couldn’t move. After giving Constantinople one last head-to-tail stroke, Dillan faced me. He dusted cat hair off his hands and jeans without breaking eye contact.

When did the library get so hot? I resisted the urge to pull on my sweater collar. My palms sweated. I forced myself to move. For every forward step he made, I answered with a step back. Our little dance continued until the far wall bookshelves pushed against me.

A glimmer of pleasure surfaced in his eyes.

My skin practically sizzled.

“Come on.” He rested his hands on the shelves, boxing me in with his body. “Tell me why it matters that I’m here.”

“Well…” I faltered. His clean scent scattered my thoughts.

“Well?”

I bit my lip. My worst idea yet. His eyes left mine to focus on my mouth. I shivered. Oh, Lord Almighty. Slowly, he bent his head toward me. The tip of my tongue darted across my lower lip. This couldn’t be happening. What was he thinking?

Willingly suffering the shock, I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him back gently. He pinned me with a questioning glance. When I didn’t respond fast enough, he added an eyebrow arch.

I shook my head, feeling light-headed. “Whatever you think you’re doing, don’t.”

“And what’s to stop me?”

What was to stop him? If he wanted, all he had to do was move faster next time. But I couldn’t let that happen. I steeled my expression against his challenging grin.

“I’m just not ready for this. Whatever it is,” I said.

All expression left his handsome features. My chest clenched in response. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it. And just as quickly, he dropped his hands from the shelves, turned on his heel, and sauntered back to the reading chair.

I sagged against the bookshelf. My knees trembled. An annoying part of me wondered if I did the right thing by asking him to stop.