Craving (9 page)

His eyes met mine.

“Mine says Raphael.” I touched the leather. “What does yours say?”

He looked stunned beyond belief.

Blinking, he spoke slowly. “I thought it was just symbols. Is it a
language
?”

I nodded. “Ancient Hebrew. Where did you get yours?”

He swallowed and rubbed his temple, wincing slightly. “I’ve always had it, long as I can remember. I’m told it came from my mother.”

“Same for me. Did you know her? Your mother?”

The waitress chose this moment to serve our drinks, depositing them onto the table in four noisy thumps.

I waited until she’d left. “Your mother,” I repeated, my voice firm.

“No. She died when I was a baby.” He sat back and scrubbed both hands over his face. “I don’t get this. It sounds weird, but someone told me it was one of a kind, and before you ask, I can’t remember who. It’s like I’ve always known that.” He shrugged. “You know, maybe they’re not so rare after all.”

“What about your father? I never knew mine.”

“No. Me neither.”

Katherine leaned forward; I’d forgotten she was there. “Forgive my ignorance, but what’s the significance of them? They’re just ornate leather bracelets. Why do you call it your—what was it—
Talisman
?”

I looked to Dante to speak first. His fingers scratched along the thick stubble covering his jaw. “Dunno. It’s always been my Talisman.”

“Same for me.” I sat back, frustrated. “I can’t explain it, but we definitely have something in common. Let’s see what else there is.” We swapped the names we knew for our mothers—different. Our birth dates—Dante was seven years younger. On the surface, the Talismans were the only things we shared.

I glanced up to see the waitress lurking at the table again, her gaze fixed on Suki.

“Hey,” she gushed, “aren’t you Suki Bridgewater? Could I please have your autograph?” She held out a menu card and a pen, a hopeful expression on her face. “I can’t wait for your new show. Do you know what you’re featuring yet in the first one?”

Suki responded with a professional smile. “Thank you. And we’re talking about angels.” She signed the card with a flourish and handed it back to the beaming woman. “We’re talking to people that claim to have seen angels. I’ve got some amazing guests lined up.”

The waitress eventually left, and Suki looked at me, a hint of a frown on her face, “You know,
that’s
one of those weird coincidences.
Raphael
was an archangel. He specialized in healing.”

Her soft words rang in my head. Weird coincidence was right.

“What?” Dante stiffened, his gaze narrowing as it fell on Suki.

“That’s spooky.” Katherine’s words echoed my thoughts. “I’ll Google it.” Her iPhone appeared on the table, and she tapped away with rapid movements.

Suki’s hand wriggled to mesh with mine.

Without thinking, I raised it to my lips and pressed a kiss onto her knuckles. Dante sucked in a tight breath as though in pain. As I opened my mouth to say something, Katherine gave a low whistle.

“Get a load of this.
Raphael is considered the healing angel. He is a powerful healer and assists with all forms of healing: humans and animals, body, mind, and spirit if called upon
.”

“Let me guess,” said Dante, his voice stilted. “You do some kind of freaky healing, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He stood up, shoving his chair back. The scraping noise jarred my shattered nerves. Folding his arms, he glared at me. “I don’t know who you are, but you can fuck off and go play your mind games somewhere else, okay?”

“
Dante
,” Katherine cajoled.

He ignored her. He bristled with nervous energy as he stood there, and I realized in a flash—he was scared. It was a strange coincidence, but his reaction was extreme.

“I’m outta here.” Jerking to life, he grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it as he turned on his heel. Katherine scrambled after him, her phone abandoned.

“Dante—don’t you dare run off again. We haven’t finished.” I yelled at his retreating back, but it was too late.

5.4 Katherine

I grabbed for his arm as Dante charged out of the coffee shop, but he slipped through my fingers. Chasing after him I shouted, “
Wait
!”

He stopped when he reached his bike and finally turned to look me in the eyes. “What do you want from me now?”

Wrapping my fingers tight around his leather sleeve, I wondered how it would feel if I placed my hand on his cheek, the stubble rasping against my palm. I dragged myself back to the present. “Where are you going?” I asked.

“You set me up.” His eyes flashed fury. “You told your friend about my Talisman, didn’t you?”

“He said he wanted to talk to you. He helped me, Dante. They’re good people.”

“Better than me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The rain continued around us, a steady drizzle that made me shiver. I’d only just started to dry out, and now I was soaked again, but I had to understand what was wrong.

He shrugged out of my grasp, twisting his face away and avoiding my eyes. “I’m trouble, Kitten. If they’re your friends, that’s great. You don’t need me hanging around as well.”

“You’re scared.”

This time his eyes locked onto mine, narrow and flinty. “What did you say?”

I lifted my chin. “
Scared
.”

A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Yeah? And just what am I supposed to be scared of, Kitten?” He took a step toward me. “You?” The toes of his heavy boots touched mine. I could smell coffee on his breath, hear his uneven breathing.

“I told you, Dante. I’m not afraid of you.” I kept my arms by my sides, my hands loose and relaxed. He took a quick breath and I leapt in. “The idea that someone else has a Talisman. It’s rattled you.”

The flicker of fear in his eyes told me everything. Squashing down my own inadequacies, I moved forward and closed the gap. Before he could demur, I draped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his. It was meant to be a peck, a light touch of comfort. I didn’t expect it to ignite.

I could feel everything—the softness of his cool lips, damp with rain; his prickly stubble against my chin; tight arms that wrapped around me; one hand on the small of my back, the other closing around the nape of my neck. He growled deep in his throat and kissed me back, hard. Then his mouth slanted, the kiss went deeper in a scorching blast I felt down to my knees. My hands moved of their own accord, burrowing into his hair, pulling his head further down. He tasted of coffee and something dark and exotic. Dante was delicious.

He broke away first, easing back and staring deep into my eyes. I didn’t want him to leave. “Can I come with you? I don’t want to go home.”

I’d said the wrong thing—utterly and completely wrong. The moment the words fell out of my mouth I regretted them, wanted to scoop them up and shove them back, but it was too late. His face assumed an apologetic look as he stepped back and created a painful space between us.

“That’s not possible. Sorry, Kitten.” His hands disengaged and disappeared into his pockets. Seconds earlier he’d been kissing the bejesus out of me, yet now I could be a beggar on the street. Somewhere deep inside me remained a crumb of pride, and I scrabbled to find it.

“You’re with Nanette.”

One of his boots scuffed gently against the curb, drawing patterns in the water trickling toward the drain. I couldn’t bear to look at his face.

“I can’t lie to you, Kitten.” I wanted to slap my hands over my ears and chant
La La La!
at the top of my voice. Instead I stared at the little, orange leaf that had stuck to the buckles. “Kitten.” His fingers touched my chin, tilted it up to meet his gaze. “I’m not with Nan. I’m not with anybody. But I still can’t be with you.”

My dignity finally surged forward. “I can’t be with you either. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” Why had I? He was everything I wanted to avoid, but he felt like everything I’d ever needed.

He blinked and looked away. It seemed like an eternity later before he finally returned to me. I felt one of his hands mesh with mine, his fingers strong and firm. Finally his eyes raked over me. “I’m not sorry you did.” Before I could move away he dropped his head and swept a featherlight kiss across my mouth. He sighed. “I’m sorry you don’t want to go home. You’re lucky to have one to go to.” His eyes opened again, the silver like molten mercury, enticing and mesmerizing. I felt myself melting under his gaze.

“Will you give me a lift there?”

I’d surprised him. I saw his eyes widen, one eyebrow arching. “You’ll come on my bike?”

I’d never been on a motorcycle in my life. My stepfather had one, and I associated them with everything bad, but it was a way to prolong this moment of madness. I nodded, and curled my fingers tighter around his. “My phone, I left it on the table.” Would he drive away without me if I went back inside? “Come with me for a minute?” He let me lead him back to Josh and Suki, they still sat at the table, whispering as we approached. I reached for my phone. Dante stood silently beside me, one hand fingering his temple again.

“Do you want a lift with us, or are you going with Dante?” Josh sounded concerned.

“Dante.” I swallowed, unsure how to proceed. “Thank you for the hotel last night, and bringing me here today.”

“Here’s my number.” He slid a plain business card over the table to me, and I pushed it into my back pocket. “I’d really like to talk to you both again.” His eyes rested on Dante. “I know you’re freaked out, I am too.”

Suki stood up and gave me a hug. “We’re going to be in London for a couple of days, and then heading up to Anglesey for a week. Do ring us, Katherine.
Please
.”

5.5 Josh

Suki nudged me gently, and then drained her mug. “How did Katherine describe him? Distinctive, wasn’t it?”

I grunted in reply. Was this going to be the pattern of my interactions with Dante? A few words before he buggered off, yet again? I tuned back in to Suki’s chatter, realizing with a start, I’d not been listening at all.

She quirked her eyebrows at me. “Do you think he might be worth considering? If he’s even interested.” I stared blankly, and she grinned. “Earth calling Josh?”

Behind her, I could see the waitress approaching with one of her colleagues in tow. I groaned softly. “Let’s get out of here, before you get mobbed. Tell me in the car.”

After another round of autographs and posing for photos, Suki escaped her fans, and we headed out of town to do some shopping. Her hand lay on my thigh, fingers tapping lightly to the music on the radio. “So. My idea about Dante. What do you think?”

“I think he’s trouble looking for somewhere to happen.”

“I knew you weren’t listening.” She tutted. “So I’ll tell you again. My producer is keen to introduce new talent on my show, and he’s already suggested getting a psychic to do phone-ins and the like. Dante is so visual, so out-there…it’s like Nigel Kennedy being a classical musician. Completely breaking the mold. And when you think of the other TV psychics, they’re all Mr. Normal. Katherine said she’d never seen anything like his séances. He could have massive potential.”

“He could be massively unreliable.”

“You’re grouchy today.” Her fingers danced higher and flirted close to my zipper. I shifted in my seat, instantly hot for her. “Don’t you think it’s a good idea, Josh?”

“I’ve got a better one.” I growled as she caressed my growing erection. “Let me give you a clue. Hotel and bedroom.”

“That’s two,” she laughed. “I think I get the picture. As long as I can have a nap afterwards.” She yawned.

“Why so tired, babe?” I felt a shaft of worry. Lifting her hand, I pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “You’re not ill or anything?”

“I’ve not been sleeping very well. I think it’s all the stress catching up with me.” Her tone was careless, but she hesitated and I waited for her to finish. She pulled a little face and rolled her eyes. “I’ve been having nightmares about Gabe. How cliché is that? I think once the house is empty and we’ve moved in together, I’ll be fine.”

I seethed in silence. That bastard continued to terrorize her, even from the grave. I squeezed her hand. “Maybe we should ask Dante to summon him. Then we can tell him to leave you alone.” It was meant as a joke, but her face lit up.

“That’s exactly what I thought. Do you think he would?”

5.6 Katherine

Staring at Dante’s bike—his huge, scary black bike—I couldn’t believe I’d suggested riding on it. What was it about Dante? He’s the only person who’d managed to get under my skin, seen me afraid or upset. With luck, he wouldn’t have a spare helmet. He dug into the leather panniers and produced one. Carefully tucking my hair down into the hoodie, he showed me how to put on the helmet, and then made sure it fit well.