25. Ariadne
25
ARIADNE
“T hat’s the conclusion you’ve drawn?” Caleph gives me a hard look, his jaw locking in anger.
“The logical explanation would be that you’ve kidnapped me to cash in on the bounty yourself.”
“You know how much money I’m worth.”
“And now you know how much I’m worth,” I retort, poking my tongue out at him and laughing.
I like that I’ve been able to stir up his anger, albeit briefly. He is frustrated and angry when he speaks again.
“I’m glad you can bring yourself to joke about it.”
I shrug. There’s nothing more I can do past make light of my situation. It’s laughable that someone would pay that kind of money to get rid of me. And even more unbelievable that he would be bothered enough to protect me.
“Any progress on that front?” I ask.
“Nothing yet. Seven’s got several people working around the clock. One of your friends from that explosive article.”
“But you can’t narrow it down to who?”
His piercing dark gaze bores into me, dissecting every inch of my words. It leaves me feeling exposed, as though he can see through the layers of my carefully constructed shield. Even as I ask him the question, fear slices through my veins at the thought that I could leave this world prematurely. One could argue that danger lurks around every corner. A car accident. A fall. Hell, I could even drown when I throw myself overboard. But to be taken out of this world because someone else wants to control your destiny; the thought of someone having that sort of power over my fate tears at something visceral in me.
I’m so invested in the thoughts in my head that I miss what Caleph says. When I turn to him, the intensity in his gaze strips away at the walls I’ve built around myself in a bid to reinforce my armor. He seems to be trying to peel away the layers trying to get to the raw shell of my existence. It’s unnerving that he has this sort of access to my soul.
“Does it matter which one it was?” he asks me.
I think I’d like to know – I’d like to put a face to my killer. But the dark cloud that crosses his face tells me it wouldn’t make a difference in any way. He’s bundled all those politicians into one eggshell and instinctively I know he’s holding them all accountable. And he’s determined to see this through to the end.
“Why are you doing this?” I whisper.
I don’t have any delusions that I’m not in the presence of a very dangerous man. We may have done that interview, and he may have presented as a martyr, showing the world what he wanted them to see. But I knew there was darkness lurking within him. I may not have written about it, but I knew it was there. I felt it, sensed it, and I even saw it that time he stalked after me through the boat. The man was placid, but if he was betrayed, the monster came out.
“Because you got me off a list, and now I’m getting you off one.”
* * *
I’ve finally found a weakness in Caleph – he likes to boast about his swimming prowess. He’s brave and courageous, and he’s like a joyous little boy as he swings from a tire roped to a tree until he’s over the lagoon and he jumps, splashing heavily into the water. I watch him from my little slice of nirvana a few feet away, tipping my head back to soak up the sun.
He works like a machine, but he’s decided today to humor me and we’ve come back to the lagoon for an early afternoon swim.
“You don’t want to try it?” he asks, breaking through the water and pushing his dark hair out of his eyes. This is another side to Caleph I have not seen before. He showed me the businessman in him during our interview. Take two shows me the boy residing in the man; a fun-loving scoundrel that doesn’t want to grow up.
“I’d rather not.”
“Ok, turtle.”
I splash at him, but I’m so timid in the water that even then I barely manage to get a few drops of water on him. He lifts his arm and smacks it down into the water heavily, the movement so powerful that he drenches me like a waterfall. I’m so surprised, I feel like I’ve been waterboarded and struggle to take a breath. I shake my hair out and watch as he reaches me with a few strokes in the water until we’re within arm’s length of one another.
“If I’m a turtle,” I say, putting a hand to my chest, “you’re a monkey.”
I laugh at the look on his face and swim away. But I’m not quick enough. He reaches out and pulls me back, ready to splash me again. Or hold me under water. Or something silly. But something happens when he pulls me back so abruptly that I’m pressed up against his body, the hard ridges of his muscles literally cutting into my soul. Our faces are so close, I can feel his heavy breathing as it cascades off my skin, his eyes piercing through me as we gaze at each other quietly.
I feel the blush that blooms against my skin, creeping slowly upward. There is no amount of water that could douse the fire that has ignited within me. My heart is doing a rapid gallop as we remain locked in the moment. A battle of wills as we try to avoid the inevitable.
And before I know what’s happening, his eyes darken and he’s moving into me, his hands crawling up my back, his lips finding mine. He forces my lips apart, delves in like he’s always been there and kisses me deeply, his tongue navigating its way until we find our rhythm. He tastes of honey and spice and mint, and his mouth is so intoxicating that I find I can’t pull away. I don’t want to pull away. I feel faint and lightheaded and I don’t understand how a kiss could possibly do this. It’s like I’ve been infected by his poison, because I never felt this way after a kiss with Rand. That was tame in comparison to this. Child’s play. This, this must be what being with a real man is like.