Burning for You (Blackwater) Read online

  He is not alone.

  Even though I barely know him, I feel jealous, almost to the point of being sick. The woman with him is petite and curvy in all of the right places, looking like a miniscule doll compared to long and lean Ash Lavanne. Her skin is the most beautiful shade of golden caramel, and her heavily lashed eyes are large and dark. She’s wearing an aquamarine sheath dress in a Grecian goddess style that makes me feel like an underdressed school girl in my matching skirt and sweater. Her hair is pulled back severely from her round face, showing off her delicate features, and it cascades down her back in a dark waterfall down to her hips. When I take my eyes off of her and focus on Ash, I see him looking right at me. Embarrassed, I quickly whirl around and away from him to face Gabe.

  Gabe is glaring as his animal eyes bore into my own. My face burns as the heat rushes to it, flushing heavily. I’m not sure what I did wrong – I only turned to see what he was looking at – but I feel guilty. With impeccable timing, our waiter sets down two plates with our beef Wellington in front of us. “Anything else I can get for you, Sir?” he asks.

  “Another bottle,” Gabe demands in a growl. My eyes widen at his harsh tone, but the waiter doesn’t blink. He slinks off and I watch Gabe as he cuts into the beef Wellington savagely.

  “Are you alright?” I ask him. “What was that?”

  He looks up at me, his eyes narrowing. “I’m a very possessive man, Leah, and I don’t usually like the woman I’m out with to focus on any man but me.” His lips curl into a sadistic smile and I rub my sweaty hands against my legs. Well this date has gone sour pretty quickly, I think.

  “I was just looking where you were,” I explain. “You seemed to react before I turned around though. Does it have to do with Ash Lavanne walking in here?”

  Gabe looks surprised. “How do you know Ash? Didn’t you say you just got into town?”

  I nod. “I did, but I got into a car accident on Center and Emerald. You know that awful traffic light?” Gabe acknowledges that he does with a nod. “I rear ended him right in the middle of the intersection.”

  “Interesting,” Gabe says. Then he is quiet, back to his food. I don’t feel terribly hungry anymore but I decide to fill the awkwardness with trying the beef. I can practically cut it with a spoon, it’s so tender, and it tastes like butter. Heavenly.

  “This is amazing,” I tell Gabe, trying to change the subject. “I’m so glad you took me here.” I am trying to lighten up his mood, but he appears that he won’t budge. A shadow casts over the table and I look up and gasp. Ash and his pretty companion are standing next to our table.

  “Miss Holt, we seem to be running into each other rather frequently,” Ash says with small smile on his face. “I hope you are well this evening.” He glances at Gabe, who continues to stare directly at me, as though Ash isn’t even standing and talking to us. “Hello Gabe.”

  “Ash,” Gabe says, nodding, finally tearing his eyes off of me. “Miss Martin.”

  “Erika Martin, this is Miss Leah Holt,” Ash continues, ignoring Gabe’s tone. “She rear ended me at the intersection of Center and Emerald.”

  “How fun for you,” she says in a deep purr. “Nice to meet you, Leah.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I say. “That’s a beautiful dress.”

  “Thank you,” she says. She turns to Ash and smiles. “Shall we make our way to our table? I’m famished.” She giggles slightly and takes Ash’s arm possessively, shooting me a “he’s mine” glance. I blink, unaware of why I would have caused such a reaction from her. All I’ve done is say hello. Unless she can hear the blood racing through my veins…perhaps she actually can.

  Ash doesn’t move, though. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight, Miss Holt,” he continues, frowning. “Or in Gabe’s company.”

  I look at Gabe, whose face has darkened, making him look ugly and terrifying. His wide mouth has tightened into a grimace and his hands clench the edge of the table.

  “Well, here I am,” I say, not really knowing how to respond. “Or, rather, here we are.”

  Ash gives a curt nod. “Let’s go,” he says to Erika. She is looking at Ash pensively and then at me. She bites her pouting bottom lip and lets Ash lead her away to a table across the restaurant. It’s directly in my line of sight, which is distracting when I can tell Gabe is so ruffled by that chance meeting.

  “What was that about?” I ask Gabe, downing the remainder of my glass of wine in one expert gulp. He doesn’t say anything at first, and so I start to eat again. The Wellington is too good to waste, even though I’ve seemed to have lost my appetite.

  “Ash Lavanne doesn’t like me much,” he tells me, finally, watching me eat. “And he appears to like you very much.”

  “I don’t really know him,” I say. “I only just met him yesterday.”

  “So you’ve said,” Gabe says. “I’ve known him almost my entire life.”

  “Oh?” I ask, curious to know more. “Did you go to school together?”

  “No,” Gabe says. “The Lavannes have private tutors. Our families are closely linked.” He doesn’t offer anything else, but I’m dying to get more information.

  “What does he do?” I ask. “Are the Lavannes very wealthy?”

  Gabe snorts. “As far as I know, Ash doesn’t do anything except indulge his self and spend money. He’s never worked a day in his life. The Lavannes are extremely wealthy. They own a vineyard.”

  “Well I suppose with all of that money, he doesn’t have to work,” I offer. I can’t eat another bite and put my utensils down. “I’ve never heard of the Lavannes. You said they were all tutored. I guess that would explain why we didn’t have any Lavannes in school.”

  “Yes, it would,” Gabe says. “Are we going to talk about Ash Lavanne all night long? I was hoping we could get to know each other better.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s just that I feel like although I lived in Blackwater most of my life, I barely know my own town. I guess I never fit in here in the first place, and now I’m starting to truly realize it.”

  Gabe’s face relaxes, finally. “I know what you mean, Leah,” he says, reaching for my hand across the table. “I’ve always been an outsider here. I gave up on needing to feel accepted a long time ago.” He holds my gaze, making me shift in my seat uncomfortably. “That’s why I think we ran into each other today in the woods. I think we belong together. I can feel it.” His hand is cold and dry and for some reason, I feel like I can’t breathe from his touch. I stand up suddenly, yanking my hand away and grabbing my purse.

  “Excuse me,” I tell him quickly, huffing and taking short and quick breaths. “I think I’m having an asthma attack.” I rush toward the back of the restaurant, leaving him by himself at the table. I know I’m being rude, but I feel like my lungs are going to explode and I might pass out.

  I find the bathroom and am blinded by a plethora of tiny white tiles, bright lights and a wall of mirrors. A look at my own face reveals that I resemble someone who’s been hit by a bus followed by a train followed by an airplane. Even my hair has come loose from its knot, and my face is pale, accompanied by some blotchy spots on my cheeks. “Worst lighting ever,” I murmur to myself, though I fear it’s not the lighting, it’s me. I lean against the sink and puff my inhaler, finding a bit of relief as my airways open up. I can breathe more calmly and evenly. Once I have my breathing under control, I attempt to splash cold water on my cheeks without ruining my eye makeup.

  The bathroom door opens, and it’s Erika, looking composed and beautiful, causing some more jealousy to seep through me. “Are you alright?” she asks me. “I saw you rush in here. You didn’t look well at all.”

  “Asthma attack,” I explain. She nods and puts her purse down on a counter and opens it, pulling a small vial out of it with a clear, pale pink liquid inside.

  “Take this,” she says. “The whole thing. You’ll feel better.”

  “What is it?” I ask her skeptically. She hands me the vial and I turn it a
round, looking for a label or anything to indicate that she’s not about to poison me.

  “Relax, it won’t kill you,” she says. “I’m a pharmacist.”

  I look at her, bewildered. “I’ve never seen a pharmacist that looks like you.” She laughs. “This doesn’t really look like a prescription, either.”

  “Well, pharmacist by day, apothecary by night,” she tells me. “My elementals are air and earth. Therefore I have a natural ability to heal and also the ability to utilize and manipulate natural resources. It makes me the perfect apothecary.”

  “I didn’t know anyone could have two elementals,” I say.

  Erika smiles. “Lots of people have dual elementals. So drink up, lady.”

  I shrug and twist off the top of the vial and toast the air. “Bottoms up,” I say, and tip the vial back into my mouth. It’s sweet, like honey, but bitter as well. “Whew,” I say. “I hope you didn’t just poison me.”

  “If I wanted to, I could,” Erika says. I begin to cough uncomfortably. She laughs. “Trust me, I didn’t. Ash would kill me if I did. Now hand me the empty vial. I can reuse that. We’re going to get your out of here, now.”

  “What?” I say, not sure if I heard her properly. “Not sure what you mean. Who’s we?”

  “Ash and I are going to take you out of here, away from Gabe Locke,” she says, looking dead serious. “You can’t stay with him. We don’t know what he’s planning, but it can’t be good.”

  “What are you talking about?” I say. “I can’t just leave him. We’re on a date!”

  “You can and you will,” Erika tells me. She blocks the door and even though I’m a head taller than she is, something about her demeanor indicates I don’t want to mess with her. She pulls out her phone and starts typing on it. “Ash will meet us out back. Let’s go.”

  Wordlessly, I follow her out the bathroom door and toward the kitchen at Chez George. No one says a word to us as Erika and I walk right through, passing by flaming skillets and furiously chopping line cooks, right toward the back door. I see Ash is waiting in his black SUV.

  “Get in,” Ash says. I take him in, his arm dangling casually out the window, his face shadowed and chiseled the way a stone marble statue would be. He literally takes my breath away to the point where my hand closes on my inhaler in my purse. Erika gives me a little shove toward the SUV and opens the back door for me. I slide in compliantly, practically falling on my side in the vast expanse of the backseat. I have no idea why I’m going along with this, but it’s almost like I have no willpower right now. I feel captured in a trance, and sit staring out the window as we drive away.

  “Why am I going along with this?” I ask no one in particular, echoing my own thoughts. Perhaps I’m talking to myself. “I forgot my jacket. Dammit.”

  “Trifles,” Erika tells me from the front seat, confirming I’m speaking out loud. “You have no idea what could have happened had you spent any more time with Gabe.”

  “He seems nice enough,” I say. “We were just on a date.”

  “A date that could have gotten you reaped,” Erika says.

  My eyes widen in alarm. “I hardly think it would come to that. He doesn’t seem like a rapist.” Ash laughs, and I have no idea what’s so funny, considering I’ve been kidnapped from a nice dinner. “What’s so funny? You shouldn’t call someone that just for fun, you know. What did you give me in that vial?”

  “Reaped, not raped,” Erika explains. “Gabe is a reaper. He reaps your ability to craft.”

  “Whatever that means,” I say lamely. “I really can’t do much in the way of crafting, anyway.”

  “Maybe you just haven’t found your catalyst yet,” Erika says, a sarcastic note to her voice. “Or have you?” She looks hard at Ash, who says nothing and continues driving. I focus on the back of his neck from my vantage point. His hair is so perfectly trimmed along his neck, you’d never know he’s all party in the front with that sexy lock that’s always spilling along his forehead. “As to what was in that vial,” Erika says, “I told you, I gave you something to help with your asthma attack.”

  “Then why do I feel so out of my own head?” I wonder.

  “Well, there might have been something else in there to make you more willing to come with me,” she continues. “I didn’t want to have you kicking and screaming.”

  “I see,” I say. “So basically in one night you’ve met me, drugged me and kidnapped me. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Just looking out for a friend,” Erika says. “I do hope we can be friends after all of this.”

  “Well considering I have zero willpower right now, if you demand my friendship, I guess you can have that too,” I say, settling back against the seat and sighing heavily.

  “Good girl,” she says, winking back at me. She’s even prettier when she smiles, I note sadly.

  Ash is quiet, but I see he’s driving toward my house, which is good. I’d hate to be kidnapped and not returned home. How does he know where I live?

  “I can’t believe you guys did this to me,” I continue, feeling that I need to reprimand them a little more than I have been. “I mean, I just came back to Blackwater. I don’t have a job or friends or money. I probably shouldn’t be severing connections so early in the game.”

  “Gabe isn’t the kind of connection you want,” I hear Ash say, startling me because he’s been so quiet. “Trust me.” He pulls into the driveway of my house, flicking his headlights off and putting the car in park. He turns, fixing those black eyes on me. I feel like taking my panties off from that look, but I restrain myself. “Goodnight, Miss Holt. I trust you’ll sleep well tonight. If you don’t think you will, I’m sure Erika can give you something for that as well.”

  I want to tell him to come upstairs and put me to sleep, but I’m pretty sure Erika would kick my ass. She looks like she could, despite her stature.

  “Goodnight,” Erika chimes in. “Once that potion wears off, you’ll be sleepy anyway.”

  “And when will it wear off?” I ask her as I step out of the car. “Am I in danger of my mother telling me to clean the house and actually listening to her or something?”

  Erika laughs as I shut the door and Ash opens his window. “Good night, Miss Holt,” he tells me. “I hope you wake up tomorrow and find a job and some friends and money to go along with it.” He turns his headlights back on and backs out of the driveway. I stand shivering without my jacket, watching him take off and wish I was going with him instead of returning to my mother’s house.

  When I walk inside, my mother is standing in the foyer, looking livid. “Who dropped you off?” she asks me. “What happened to Gabriel Locke?”

  “I got a ride home,” I tell her. “It’s a long story.”

  Chapter 6

  Monday morning and I’m driving in Betsey, dressed in a dark brown pants suit and coral silk blouse in hopes of finding a job. I have the brilliant idea to go straight to Blackwater Memorial Hospital and see if my expertise in medical billing and coding will get me anywhere. I have no idea if there are any actual job openings, but the only marketable skills I possess are health care billing related. The hospital seems like a good place to start, otherwise I’ll have to go get a retail job or something. I hate retail jobs. The last time I worked retail was with my friend Eleanor at a store called “Young At Heart” that sold lingerie to old ladies. Fitting an eighty six year old woman for a bra is a great weight loss method. You’ll never want to eat again.

  I find a spot in the visitor’s parking lot, then grab my portfolio with my resume and start to walk toward the entrance, unsteady on my one inch heels. Whatever Erika gave me last night knocked me out cold, and I’m still feeling the effects. I feel confident enough that I can slur my way through an interview, should one come from this venture. The air is brisk and my lips feel chapped by the time I walk through the sliding glass doors and up to the guard at the front desk. He’s an older man with a droopy white moustache and mismatched reddish hair. “Excuse, m
e, can you please direct me to human resources?” I ask him.

  “Sure can,” he says. “Down that hallway and it’s the last door on your left.”

  I thank him and head in that direction. Perhaps this will be easier than I thought. I expected him to ask whether I have an appointment, but I just get waved right through.

  In heels, the hallway goes on forever and ever and ever. When I walk in through human resources, my heart sinks when I see about twelve people waiting and filling out applications. They probably have appointments.

  “May I help you?” the receptionist asks. “Can you please sign in?”

  “I’m actually here to inquire about any open positions,” I tell her, signing my name and the time on the sheet. “I checked online and in the newspaper but Blackwater Memorial doesn’t seem to post any jobs.”

  “We post them when we have them,” the receptionist replies cheerily. She’s one of those people who delivers sarcasm in the same tone that she would say “happy birthday!” Her tight red shirt is low cut and practically painted on, and her hair is so bleached that it could probably walk off her head if it wanted to. I stand uncomfortably wondering if I’m supposed to turn around and walk out at this point or stare her down until a job magically appears. “But here,” she blurts out suddenly, as if my stare has broken her willpower. “Fill out this application and we’ll see if anything fits. If not, we’ll put your application on file and call you if something comes up.”

  I nod, repressing a deep sigh and thank her. I accept the clipboard with the blank application on it and back away from the desk. There’s a seat between a middle aged man who smells like syrup and a young girl with horrible acne where I settle and begin to fill everything out. I’ll freak out if there are no jobs available. I need to do what I know, and while medical billing may not be everyone’s dream job, at least it’s something I’m good at. I have this strange ability to memorize useless information, and medical procedure codes come with the territory.

  The door to HR opens and slams, causing me to jump in my seat at the interruption. “Fiona, we have a problem,” the woman who comes through the door announces immediately upon entering the room. She’s really tall, which is something I don’t say very often, considering I’m well above average height. Her body reminds me of a pencil with a shock of white hair at the top, almost like one of those troll dolls that Heidi and I used to collect and put on top of our pencils. Her suit doesn’t fit her very well, which isn’t surprising considering she’s so tall and thin. She looks around, seemingly surprised and embarrassed to find herself surrounded by so many people in HR, so that she walks up to Fiona’s desk and bends down to speak to her in soft whispers about whatever her problem may be. I go back to filling out the application, which is a regurgitation of everything on my resume. The flustered tall woman leaves before I walk up to Fiona’s desk and hand it over.