Chapter 6
Chapter 6
His words settled heavily onto my chest as I searched frantically through the crowds, using his trembling finger as a guide.
The invisible power that had been haunting my thoughts for weeks, the face I could never make out in my dreams but felt lurking in the secrets of my mind.
Meroveo.
Our eyes met, and I felt my lips part in petrified awe at the visceral shock of seeing him again. My breathing became uneven as I was transfixed by his penetrating and intrusive gaze.
He stood leaning against the old brick, entirely at ease, hidden away by the shadows of the empty street alley behind him. The exhilarating terror coursing through my veins was a heady mix of uneasiness melding with secret excitement.
The world around me was silenced, and the boundaries of reality blurred between this world and the next. It felt as if we were standing outside the confines of time as we watched each other. The slow, knowing smile that spread on his face told me he knew exactly what he was doing, silently commanding me not to look away.
And I couldn't.
Even when everything in my body desperately screamed for me to run, the warning bells in my mind were deafening. My heart was beating frantically in my chest, and my mother's warnings were in the back of my mind to stay away, to do as she asked, to run.
But I couldn't move. I couldn't break free from his menacing spell.
With an unhurried movement, he pulled something from his pocket. His piercing gaze remained solely on me, eyes flickering up and down my body, burning my skin, my fear twisting with something else.
I felt his invasive, invisible touch leave a trail of goosebumps on my skin, blood surging from my fingertips to the end of my toes. The heady feeling of something forbidden and electric, perversely whispering to me, moving up my legs, coiling deep in my belly, calling me in between the hypnotizing fear.
The echo of a strange and familiar nightmare.
Meroveo made no effort for discretion. There was no shame or hesitation in his eyes. His gaze burned wickedly with a secret as he brought a cigarillo to his lips.
The wisp of smoke curled around him in a clouded haze as he blew it my way, its potent scent surrounding all of me. The flame's light reflected red in his eyes, making them appear to glow ominously in the dark.
He wanted me to see him and know that he was watching.
Un demonio. Like an evil spirit manifested in the flesh before me with a smile shrouded in mystery. I stepped unwillingly towards him, my breathing shallow as my blood sang, vibrating, unholy eyes pulling me dangerously toward him.
But the feeling of Amias burying his face into my belly thwarted me from his dangerous compulsion, his little arms squeezing me desperately.
I snapped back to reality. The sounds of the world returned to full volume, hurting my ears at the abruptness. I was acutely aware again of the festivities around me. I tore my eyes away from Meroveo, grabbed Amias' hand, and began to run.
The urgency to escape filled me with adrenaline. I fought through the dense, lively crowds, the people oblivious to the danger lurking amongst them.
A being who wore the skin of a human man but hid something more beneath.
I knew he was following us. I could still feel him.
I couldn't bring myself back to look. I was too afraid.
The chime of the cathedral bells echoed out, announcing the midnight hour, a saving grace, as cheers erupted from all around, and the final round of fireworks exploded above us in the air.
My desperate eyes found the candlelit steps of the cathedral a few feet away, the vast, arched doors still open for prayers and offerings.
"Amias!"
I heard the frantic shout above all the festive commotion and immediately stopped. I was relieved to see Anthea, Amias' heavily pregnant mother, wobbling towards me as fast as her round belly would allow.
"I have been looking for you everywhere!" she said, pulling Amias by the ear and giving him a sharp swipe to his bottom before engulfing him in a teary hug.
Amias offered no resistance. His usual bull-headed spunk was thoroughly tempered as he hugged his mother back, wide eyes searching the crowd wearily.
"Thank you, Dove," Anthea said, relieved, kissing my cheek.
I spotted more of my family members dancing with the crowds.
Not alone anymore, I felt brave enough to look amongst the people to see if he was still there. But I couldn't see him. He blended in perfectly, invisible to me, hoping that my silent prayers were answered and that he was gone.
"It's no problem, Anthea," I assured her with a smile before I ran up the cathedral stairs. I needed a moment alone to think, breathe, and quiet the panic in my chest.
The loud commotion outside was immediately silenced as I stepped into the Basilica hall. The aromatic incense of sweet myrrh and the thousands of flowers left at the altar combined and misted the air in a calming and serene way.
Only a few people were around, mostly elderly women kneeling at the wooden pews, whispering prayers that echoed softly against the church's high ceilings.
My heart slowly returned to a steady beat, and my skin cooled as I soaked in the silence and peace offered in the amber glow of the candlelight sanctuary. My footsteps echoed on the floor as I made my way towards the shrine, which was secluded for people to pray privately to the holy mother.
I stepped through the small iron gates, grateful that I was alone, surrounded by the glow of white candles and the grand marble statue of Our Lady. Rosaries made from cowrie shells and blue and white beads dangled from her open hands. The wall behind her was decorated with a beautiful mural of the sea.
I stepped forward, made the sign of the cross, and kneeled to the center to make a humble request, lighting a candle.
"Hail Mary, full of grace," I whispered fervently into the air, my eyes closed, hands clasped together in concentration.
"The Lord is with thee," a deep masculine voice answered behind me.
I froze.
My body was rigid with fear as I slowly stood, swallowing the scream that was on my trembling lips, meeting dark eyes that gleamed in quiet satisfaction.
"Mister De Los Santos," I whispered, hands automatically moving to my chest, gripping my pearl pendant as I struggled to remain composed.
Meroveo removed his hat like a gentleman before stepping through the gates. He effectively cornered me, filling this once-sacred space with his tainted presence.
He was startlingly handsome, and my memory of him did no justice to the tanned olive skin, dark hair, and simple mole on his cheek.
His casual attire of a tailored linen shirt and leisurely slacks did nothing to diminish his quiet power, standing several inches above me.
"Dove." He dipped his head in acknowledgment. My name sounded like smooth silk from his mouth, making my stomach feel light, and a creeping heat moved up my neck.
Our eyes danced silently together.
I waited for an explanation, why he was here, why he had been following me, what he wanted with me.
Meroveo said nothing; the slight smile on his upturned lips told me everything.
He didn't have to answer.
We both knew why he was here.
The sound of my heart began to make me dizzy. The more I looked into his eyes, the more I couldn't take it.
He was too much.
"Are you enjoying the festival?" I asked, looking away, turning my back to him as I tried to exude a confidence I didn't feel.
Ignoring the rush of heat flooding my cheeks under the masculine possession, I saw simmering in his eyes.
I pretended to be fascinated by the intricate message hidden in the mural, one that I had admired since I was a girl. I focused on the colorful, vivid imagery, pretending my legs weren't trembling underneath my skirt.
I was afraid of him. Afraid of how much he fascinated me.
"How could I not?" he said, amused, stepping forward, our bodies almost close enough to touch in the small space.
"You have to light a candle. It's tradition," I said, pointing to one.
"Of course," he replied politely.
I refused to meet his eyes and watched him light a candle in the offering, its wick coming alive as a cool, soft breeze began to fill the room. Shadows of the flickering candles were on the wall.
"It's my favorite time of year," I said, stumbling over my words nervously. I tried to offer him something, anything, just to move away from the grip of his aura.
"The people of Salamanca are proud and resilient. I admire that," he said, looking down into my eyes as his large hand gently lifted the curling end of my braid.
I met his gaze, moving down slowly to my lips, feeling something bloom in a shameful secret inside of me, a whisper of thrilling heat on my skin.
"Mister De Los Santos," I said breathlessly, silently pleading with him for something I couldn't understand, to stop, to step away… to move closer.
"Tell me, Dove, do you often walk amongst thousands of strangers alone, late at night, without the protection of your family?" he teased lightly, but by the sudden sharp look in his eyes, I knew he was reprimanding me.
Forgetting my shyness, I was angry and annoyed that he felt he could tell me what to do.
"No, Mister De Los Santos," I said pointedly, smiling politely, pronouncing his last name with more flair than necessary, mustering up shaky courage. "Do you make a habit of stalking people?" I accused quietly, looking away from him again. I didn't like the primal way he gazed at me or the way it made me feel, ignoring his request to say his name.
"So," he laughed. I found myself mortified that I liked the sound of it. "The sweet Dove with honey eyes can be spicy," he noted, pleased at my tiny act of defiance.
"I want to hear you say my name."
I said nothing.
"Say it." He gestured with his head, his free hand gently lifting my chin, forcing my attention to him. Power simmering low with the wickedness in his eyes.
"Say what?" I breathed as he stepped closer, and I could smell the faint scent of his cologne and cigar mixing. I tried to step away from him, but he wouldn't allow it, as he pushed me back with little effort against the old coral stone of the shrine.
"My name, little Dove." His deep voice commanded, quietly resonating inside me, leaving me speechless and captivated by his eyes.
There was no longer any amusement on his face.
It was the look of a man.
A man who made the tip of my ears burn as his rough thumb slowly ran across my quivering lips, gently coaxing his name from my mouth.
"Meroveo," I whispered, terrified of how his eyes darkened when I said his name.
His sensual mouth curved slowly into a smile, eyes warming with masculine heat, and I gasped, tensing as he untied the white ribbon that held my braid together.
My curls unfurled around me, coming loose and framing my face. Meroveo watched me in satisfaction, silently ripping apart any walls between us. My ribbon disappeared into his chest pocket.
"I have to go," I silently pleaded. "My mother will be looking for me," I whispered, hating the deep blush I felt on my cheeks while I silently prayed that she was.
One of his ringed fingers lifted the pendant on my chest, holding it delicately in his hand. I was afraid he would feel the erratic pulse on my neck.
"I wouldn't want to get in your mother's way." He chuckled, but I recognized the hardness coming back into his eyes. "And I'm sure Demetria would know not to get in mine." He smiled, but how he said my mother's name sounded like a threat. He dropped my necklace back down against my chest, his fingers lightly touching my bare skin. Gesturing with his hand for me to go freely.
The silent truth that he was letting me go hung in the charged air around us.
"I'm sure she's warned you about me." He smiled as he teased me with the truth.
"She's warned me about many things," I answered, turning back, the warming tingle in my stomach growing every time I looked at him.
"Then you understand," he said simply before bowing his head in respect towards Our Lady's statue and walking out silently, leaving me alone with a flood of tormented thoughts.
I fell to my knees in front of Our Lady's statue, tears in my eyes, my body trembling, and a choked, desperate prayer on my lips as I tried to understand what had just happened.