Chapter 3 #4
I can hear her humming as she cooks outside our tent.
The war was coming to an end. My blade has already tasted the blood of three of King Orinon’s generals.
It was only a matter of time until Orinon is found, and he shall die by my hand.
Contentment settles in my bones as she slices herbs and puts them into the pot.
Imagine the queen of Eyphra on her knees cooking rabbit stew for me and my men.
She smiles back at me. I can see her smile but not her face.
I drag my hand through my hair, throwing back all the plum wine. Setting the crystal down, I move toward the chalice. It still feels warm to the touch, signifying that Talia’s soul is still alive and well.
“I promise I will get you out, Talia.” I kiss the rim of the cup and set it back onto my desk.
Then I hear something that I haven’t heard in this house for centuries: laughter.
As if the sound beckons me, I open the door, and slowly, I follow the laughter into the large kitchen. My heart tugs as Hecate shares the pizza. Nisa and Soraya sit on the many barstools around the island.
“I don’t think it’s fair to insult him like that,” Soraya says as she bites into the pizza.
Hecate places her hand on her hip. “I didn’t insult him by calling him ugly. I was describing him.”
Soraya chuckles behind her hands. I stand in the shadows, observing her small, delicate movements. The way she folds her pizza to bite it, or how her legs swing in happiness.
“Okay, if he’s not ugly, what is he?” Hecate asks. I can hear the trap in Hecate’s question.
Nisa picks the pineapple off her pizza and nibbles on it. “I call him Mr. Monster.”
Soraya frowns. “Is he a monster? He bought you pizza and volunteered to be your new guardian.”
Hecate scoffs. “Volunteered…right.”
Soraya sighs. “Neither of you would feel this comfortable speaking ill of him if he were a bad guy.”
Nisa looks at Soraya. “What is he then?”
“I think he is a Roman Hemsworth with anger issues,” Soraya states.
“What the hell is a Hemsworth, Aric?”
I shrug, but I make a mental note to check my phone later.
“If you want pizza, stop hiding in the shadows and come out!” Hecate shouts.
Shit, I was busted.
“I wasn’t hiding. I just walked in, coming for a slice of pizza,” I grumble, walking into the kitchen. I grab a paper plate and place three slices of meat pizza on it.
“We should leave, Aric.”
I agree until Soraya casually pulls out the stool next to her. Was she inviting me to sit?
“Leave now!”
I grunt and drop down onto the counter. Nisa, Hecate, and Soraya continue their conversation like I’m not there.
“What’s the doll called?” Soraya asks as she reaches for another slice of pizza.
“Excuse me.” Soraya reaches across my plate, and everything feels like it’s slowed down. I close my eyes, inhaling her natural, milky-sweet scent.
When I reopen them, Hecate’s brow is lifted, and her gaze is on mine. I ignore her and bite into the pizza. It tastes like dried paper.
“I’m too old for dolls, but it’s called a Labubu,” Nisa exclaimed.
Note to self: check out what a La-whatever-that-is for Nisa.
“Maybe Ares can take you both tomorrow, and you can buy one,” Hecate states just as I start eating the pizza.
“No, I’m too busy.” I stand and leave.
“Ares,” Hecate calls out. “All will be well.”
I feel like running far away from it all. Briskly, I walk back into my office.
I ease down behind my desk and power up my laptop. I read some emails and replied to too many.
Hours later, the afternoon light dims to gold across my office wall. My desk is buried under open files and unanswered emails. There are so many things to be addressed. I need to find out how the girls got into my shipping container. Who took them?
There is a knock at my door. I close my eyes because I can already smell her.
“Come in.”
The door opens.
“Close the door behind you,” I command. I sit back and watch as her hand trembles when she pushes the door.
She turns and walks to the chair.
“How can I help you?” I take up my gold pen and flick it slowly between my fingers.
She licks her lips nervously. I wonder if it turns pink or red when she nibbles on it.
“She is breathtaking.” Ares peers from the windowpane.
“Please sit.” I gesture to the chair in front of my desk. She moves like water; her movements flow. Her hair is wrapped in a low messy bun. The large, dark blue T-shirt and tan coat hide her figure well.
When she lifts her gaze to meet mine, my heart does a triple beat.
Her heart-shaped face, small nose, and perfectly arched brow are all set in her dark brown skin. She is perfection.
“Cate said to come in here so you can interview me.”
Interview her? I almost groaned out loud. I should send her away, but she drank from the chalice. We are bound, whether I like it or not.
“What did you do for work before this career choice?” I ask. I lean back in the chair, dropping the pen and clasping my hands over my diaphragm.
I can see that she is deciding how much she wants to tell me. Rightly so. I found her in a motel that deserves to be demolished.
“I am an art conservator.”
I wasn’t expecting that. “Really? Which museum did you work at?”
Her chest rises and falls. “I prefer not to answer that question.”
I can feel my eyebrows pushing together, and I frown. “How am I supposed to hire you? With just word of mouth?”
Her lips tighten like I was causing her distress. “No. By trust.”
“Trust, hmm?” I nod, accepting her response. “What is the most valuable piece of art you’ve ever handled?”
Her face brightens. “Two years ago, I got to help restore a painting in the oldest church in Ethiopia. I even got to see the first Bible.”
“Do you work better in a group or alone?”
She looks up to the side, then her gaze holds mine. “Both.”
“Ask her if she’s married.”
“Are you married?” I ask. Her pause irritates me. The thought of her being attached to a man bothers me.
Her face falls, and she grips the arm of the chair. “No. I broke off the marriage.”
“Interesting. Ask her why.”
“Why is that? Most women want to get married.” I begin to rock the chair. If he cheated on her or hurt her…he was a dead man.
Soraya looks down at her naked left hand. “It wasn’t going to work out. He is loved by many women.”
“So he cheated?” I grumble. Who would cheat on such a beautiful woman? I can see hints of emotional pain.
“Get his name, Aric. He will be dead by dawn.”
She pushes a stray hair behind her ear. “I’d rather not discuss it.”
I look at her, from the stray hair moving in the light breeze in the room to her well-manicured French tip fingernails. I can tell she is a woman who takes care of herself.
“Who are you running from?” I lean forward on my desk.
“Whoever it is, she is now under our protection.”
“Agreed,” I reply out loud.
Soraya tilts her head to the side. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry. Who are you trying to escape from?” I ask again.
“I don’t want to discuss that much either. I’m sorry for all the secrecy.” Her legs rock slowly from side to side. “Nothing will affect my job with Nisa.” I take a long look at her. Her teeth are white and clean. Her skin is glowing. Nothing about her says she is homeless or poor.
“She’s running.”
“What is one thing you will never tell me?”
She smiles shyly and then at me. “I can’t tell you.”
I nod. “Fair. Do you have any questions for me?”
Her gaze travels around the office. She looks at the books on the shelf. And the statue of the Chimera and Bellerophon.
Soraya’s small perusal allows me to see how delicate and small her neck is.
I can tell when she found a question when her shoulders drop. “What would you walk away from everything for?”
“Love.” I couldn’t hold it back.
I hear her gasp. “Where did you get that?”
She points to the chalice sitting on the side table.
“You didn’t put the chalice away?”
I grunt, and I can feel Ares gliding something sharp beneath my skin.
“It’s a family heirloom. A seller sent it to me today.”
She stands and just looks at the chalice. “Really?”
I wait for her to tell me she had the chalice, but she just watches it.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, her eyes still trained on it.
“Yes, it is,” I reply, looking at her side profile.
She shakes her head and then looks back at me. “Anyway. Do I get the job?”
“This is about to be a fucking mess. A child and a nanny?”
I lean forward, my elbows on the desk, and hold her gaze. I need her to understand the gravity of what she’s stepping into. “You should know Nisa is not an ordinary child with a typical background. Someone trafficked her. I found her in one of my shipping containers. Hecate rescued her.”
Soraya's breath hitches, her hand clutches her throat. “Oh, my God.”
“I am telling you this not for sympathy but for the environment she needs,” I continue.
My voice is firm and low. “She requires stability, patience and, above all, safety. She has seen the worst side of humanity. She was a victim, and she is now under my protection. Your role, Ms. Maude, is to help her remember what it’s like to be a happy child. ”
I watch Soraya’s shock morph into fierce, protective resolve on her face. Her reaction was what I had hoped to see.
“I understand. Thank you for telling me. I won’t let you down,” she says.
I sigh. Nothing is going the way it ought to go.
“Tell Hecate to set you up in a room next to Nisa.” I take out a notepad and write a figure and push the paper to her.
“That will be your monthly pay. Hecate will show you the garage. You can use any car.” I dig into my pocket and pull out my money clip.
She stands there with her eyes wide open, the paper in her hand.
“Is there a problem?” I ask as I take a credit card out of my clip.
“Um, this is more than what Hecate said I would be offered,” she states.
“What’s the problem? Would you like less?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. This is fine.”
I nod. “Good. Take the card. Get the girl and yourself some clothing and supplies.”
She slides the card off the desk. “Okay, anything else?”
“Yes, I would like to hold you in my arms for a few minutes, please.”
Soraya gives me a small smile. “Thank you, Mr.…”
Right, I never shook her hand or introduced myself to her, did I? I push back from my desk and rise and straighten my belt.
I extend my hand to her, and as our palms touch, my heart rate increases.
“I am Aric Kallistratos. You can call me Aric.”
“Fuck Aric, she is calling us Ares.”
“But my family calls me Ares. You can call me Ares.”
She swallows. “I am Soraya Maude; my friends call me Raya.”
“I like Soraya more.”
She bends her head and smiles. “Soraya, it is.”
I don’t want to let her hand go. But I exhale, releasing her small hand out of mine.
“Well, that’s it then.” She rocks on her heels.
“It is.”
We both stand, looking into each other’s eyes. I am happy this desk is between us. What the hell is happening?
“Good night, Ares,” she says.
Ares sits up. “Embrace me.”
I didn’t bother fighting it. My spine stings, and the corner of my damaged eye burns.
I rotate my shoulder and watch her as she leaves the office.
“Sleep well, Soraya,” I state.
“You too.” She opens the door and closes it behind her.
“Aric, what the hell have we gotten ourselves into?” I exclaim.