Dark Summoner (Relic Keeper Series Book 1) (4 page)

A
fter the last few days, all I wanted was to get drunk and forget everything. Up until this morning, Reagan had insisted we skip out on tonight, especially after Wednesday’s incident, but I desperately needed an escape. One last chance in my mind to feel normal—or semi-normal, at least.

When I’d gotten back to work after my blackout two days ago, I dragged her into the storeroom and told her everything that’d happened. She kept asking me if I was sure that I’d seen another one in the flesh or if this was some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder. I wasn’t sure, but my instincts screamed, “Yes, I’m sure!” Ever since then, she hadn’t let me out of her sight. She even bunked up at night in my bed. I told her she didn’t have to babysit me but when Reagan’s mind is made up, it is a fruitless endeavor to argue with her. We did discuss in great detail my knight in shining armor, the handsome Dorian Cross. The kind of conversation two twenty-somethings would be having—should be having.

The best part of the last two nights was the mental break I’d gotten. No nightmares. No sightings. No visions. Just simple, deep sleep. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this well-rested, if ever.

“Abby, can you restock the pastry case?” Reagan’s voice yelled over to me from across the café.

Instantly, I was back in the present. I rushed to the back kitchen and grabbed two more trays of muffins. The café was significantly busier than normal for a Friday, thanks in large part to a sizable group of writers hosting a brainstorming session. I was more than grateful for the distraction. Throughout the afternoon, several groups of people bustled in and out. A cold, yet clear day, always kept us busy. It was hard to resist the heady aroma of our freshly ground coffee and homemade pastries. Every time the door opened, the smell slipped outside and drifted up the street, lingering in the air.

I spent the first half of my shift flying back and forth between the register and back counter, taking orders and making cappuccinos. After what seemed like hours, the foot traffic finally slowed enough to give me a chance to catch up on refilling the creamers and empty pastry trays. Reagan returned from the trash dump and took my place as cashier.

The door chimed again as more patrons made their way inside. Between the blender and the water streaming from the faucet, I heard the low tone of a man’s voice. I should’ve immediately noticed the change in Reagan’s demeanor. The way her voiced lowered and became more seductive as she took his order. But I was too busy trying to stay busy.

As my fingers mindlessly washed the inside of a dispenser for the fourth time, my mind drifted back to the mysterious man in black. The man scary enough to frighten away a monster. For some reason, I knew he would able to explain my
sight
or at least point me in the direction of someone who could. He wasn’t human, or at the very least, he was like me. Different. I didn’t understand why, but when he looked at me, it was like I’d found the missing piece of my puzzle. It only took a few seconds to spark something in me that I didn’t want to acknowledge. Anyone who could illicit any emotion outside of the very few I allowed myself to feel was a threat. I shut off the sink as the last part of Reagan’s conversation reached my ears.

“And your name is?” she asked with a hint of flirtation.

“Dorian,” he said.

My back was to the counter when I whirled around, both shocked and pleased to see him. His gorgeous smile lit up when he saw me.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Abby.”

“What are you doing here?” I blurted the words before I could stop myself. Reagan’s eyes widened.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Just stopping in for a coffee on my way home.”

“I’ve never seen you come in here before.”

What was wrong with me? Was I actually treating the man who’d rescued me like he was some kind of stalker?

Unfazed by my odd and rude behavior, he rested his forearms on the counter and leaned toward me. “I’m new to the area and since you’re one of the few people I know, I thought I’d drop by in hopes you were here.”

Yeah right
, my inner critic said. She was always the cynicist.

His eyes lavishly swept up and down my body, focusing on one spot or another every so often. “I’m pleased to see that you’ve recovered well.” There was a different air in his demeanor. He was more Man today and much less Gentleman.

I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t even know if I could say anything with my throat so dry.

Reagan inserted herself into our conversation. “So, you’re Mr. Cross? As in the guy who rescued our Abby in her time of need?”

Her statement was like a splash of cold water. She made me sound obsessed or worse yet, a giddy school girl with a crush. If he’d had any doubts that I’d moved on or forgotten him, those thoughts were easily placated. When her eyes jumped from him to me, I gave her an “I’m going to kill you” look. She feigned innocence, but she couldn’t fool me. That girl knew exactly what she was doing.

“It was nothing.” He assessed me with hooded eyes. “I’m just glad to see that Abby is well. It was partially my fault.”

“I thought we agreed it wasn’t?”

An adorable dimple appeared in his cheek when he smiled. He started to speak when his words were cut off by a voice behind him.

“Hello, excuse me!” The irritated words came from a guy standing just behind Dorian. He wore sunglasses—inside, no less—and had a cell phone to his ear. “I’m in a hurry here, so can you cut the chit-chat and get on with it? You’re paid to serve the customers, not flirt with them.”

I was so consumed with Dorian, I hadn’t even realized someone stood behind him. Mr. Sunglasses may have been acting like a total jackass, but he had a point.

Before I could offer an apology, Dorian spun around. When he rose to his full height, he had to be close to six-two. Mr. Sunglasses still chatted away on his phone, oblivious. The moment he noticed Dorian’s intimidating figure fixed on him, he cowered, stepped back, and left in a hurry.

Dorian shook his head. “Some people can be quite rude.” He offered me a slow, sensual smile. “So, would you have time to sit with me for a few minutes? Perhaps during your next break? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

“Now. She has one now,” Reagan said, as she untied my apron from behind.

“Rea, the evening rush is in twenty minutes.”

“Then it makes the most sense for you to take it now. Besides, Julia will be here any minute.”

I forced a smile. “Why don’t you grab us a couple of chairs on the patio? I’ll join you in a minute.”

He offered me a lopsided grin, grabbed his drink, and headed out.

I faced Reagan. “Do you really think now’s a good time to be looking for a date, Rea?”

“Who says it’s a date? It’s just coffee. Besides, you need the distraction. You were the first person to tell me that, remember?”

Now she was using my own words against me.

“Nice choice by the way. The patio? It’s going to be freezing out there.”

“That’s the point,” I said as I filled myself a large mug of our double chocolate cocoa. “It’ll be too cold for me to want to linger for very long.”

She frowned at me as I walked away. Just before I reached the front door, I stuck my tongue out at her. Juvenile? Perhaps. But necessary? Absolutely.

When I reached the table, Dorian rose and pulled out my chair. I fumbled a little as I took my seat. His constant chivalry was heartwarming but reminded me too much of the life I’d been cast out of a decade ago. Wanting to stay focused, I spoke first.

“I was a little out of sorts the other day, and I never got the chance to really thank you for helping me and walking me back to work. “

“Being out of sorts is understandable, but there’s no need to thank me. It was the least I could do.” All of his energy focused on me, never once glancing at anyone who passed by. Being the sole object of attention for someone like him stirred the nervous butterflies in my stomach. I’d never been so self-conscious. I looked at the sidewalk, the cars, the buildings—anything but him.

“So, you just moved here?” I asked, my attempt to lighten the mood.

“Yes, only a few days ago.”

I swirled my finger around the rim of my mug. “What brings you to Weston?”

“Business.” He shifted in his seat as if suddenly uncomfortable.

“What sort of business are you in?”

“Risk management.” He spoke the words as if they bored him.

I nodded, pretending to know what that meant. “Sounds interesting.”

“Not really.” He took his free hand and smoothed the few strands of blond hair that had slipped forward and hung over his forehead. “I’m actually interested in getting to know more about you.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “There’s not much to tell. I’m a student finishing up my last year in school. I obviously work here. That’s about it.”

“And there’s no . . . boyfriend or husband in the picture?”

“No.”

Was he hitting on me? It was so hard to tell. Everything about his demeanor was polite and courteous, but every so often, I’d get the impression he was flirting with me.

“I’m sure someone as lovely as you has a boyfriend.”

I hated flattery. I’d never been good at giving it, and I was even worse at taking it.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Nope.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Well . . .” I pulled out the same excuse I’d been using for years. “I don’t really have time for a relationship. Between school and work, it’s not really feasible.”

“Perhaps you haven’t met the right man.”

I laughed. “The right man wouldn’t change my availability.”

“Maybe not, but the right man would give you the right relationship, and the right relationship would work around your availability. Perhaps you’d find that you had more time than you thought.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I lifted my cup and sipped my cocoa, letting the warm, rich liquid slide down my throat and ease the winter chill. Just then, the side door opened and Reagan came out with a towel in her hand. She pretended to wipe down patio sets, but I knew she was eavesdropping. She cleaned the table behind Dorian with a slow, meticulous pace. Her head lifted every so often to watch our exchange. I was certain that by the time Dorian left, that table would be spotless.

Oblivious to our spectator, he lifted his cup and sipped his coffee. “So, where were you off to before I knocked you unconscious? You seemed to be in a hurry.”

I hesitated. “Just back to work. The rain—it caught me off guard—that’s why I was running.”

I had to pull the words out of my own mouth, and even I could tell how ridiculous and forced I sounded. Reagan slapped the towel over her face, completely mortified for me.

“Do you have plans this evening?”

It was the last thing I expected him to ask, and it stunned me into a dumbfounded silence. Reagan wasn’t even pretending to clean anymore. She stood there hips pushed back against the table, mouthing a big “No” to me. I ignored her and slipped an imaginary hair behind my ear. “I do. It’s my friend’s birthday, so we’re going out to celebrate.”

“That’s too bad. I was hoping to see you.” He took another sip. All doubts of whether he flirted with me or not disappeared, replaced by nervous anticipation.

“You could join us,” Reagan said from behind Dorian before I could answer. She practically yelled at him.

Caught slightly off guard by her interruption, he twisted in his seat to address her, his profile split between us. “That’s very kind of you.” He looked over to me. “But I wouldn’t want to intrude on a night between friends.”

“You’re not intruding at all,” Reagan said as she came around his side and plopped down into the chair beside me. “In fact, I think we’d all have a great time.”

“Well, if Abby doesn’t mind my joining you . . .” A mischievous smile lit up his face, making the blue of his eyes glow.

“I don’t mind.”

Julie stuck her head through the glass doors, irritated. “You’re both taking a break? Seriously?”

Reagan popped up. “No. I’m cleaning. Abby’s taking a break.”

“Well, if you’re not too busy, we’re getting crazy and I could really use some help.”

Reagan sighed. “Duty calls. See ya tonight, Dorian.”

He waved over his shoulder but kept his attention on me. I desperately needed an escape. I slipped my hand into my pocket, pulling out my cell phone and glancing at the screen.

“I really should go back in, but thanks again—for everything.” I pushed my chair back and hurried away. I heard him call my name from across the patio so I circled back to him. He still sat in his chair, watching me.

“Where should I meet you?”

Oh, right. It would be helpful to mention where we were going.

“Club Fervor around ten,” I said. “You know where that is?”

“I do.”

“Okay. We’ll see you there.”

“Ten it is.”

W
e arrived at Club Fervor at ten thirty. It took us another thirty minutes of Reagan flirting and bargaining with the bouncer to get through the line. By the time we actually made it inside, it was a little after eleven. I felt like a jerk knowing that if Dorian had decided to meet us, he’d probably already been here for an hour. I’m certain that part of his gentleman code was being on time. Unfortunately, he was meeting two women who didn’t fully grasp the concept of being punctual.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” I said.

“What? The club?” Reagan said. “If you’re really uncomfortable we can leave, but let’s at least find Dorian before we do.”

“No, I mean inviting him.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked, her eyes scanning the crowd.

“Because my life is a mess, and it’s probably only going to get more complicated. Maybe I should tell him that I’m not looking for a relationship?”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Abby! He didn’t ask you to marry him. He technically didn’t even ask for a date. So in my opinion he’s just another new friend tagging along for my birthday celebration. It really isn’t that big of a deal.” She nudged my shoulder with hers. “It’s not like you have to sleep with the guy, unless you want to, that is.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the herds of people until we reached the bar. Bodies crammed like sardines throughout the club that oozed antiquated elegance from a time long ago. Royal blue velvet lined the booths, chairs, and stools. Elegant thick curtains flowed down from the ceiling to the ground around the tables and slate tiles covered the floors. There were no windows, but it seemed open because the magnificent ceiling looked like a clear night sky scattered with hundreds of stars.

After seeing everyone else’s attire, I was glad that I’d dressed up. Well, up for me. Normally, I’d wear something more casual, but I’d chosen to take things up a notch for tonight. Was it because Dorian was coming? Probably, but I wasn’t about to admit it out loud. As much as Reagan insisted that I borrow another one of her outfits, I opted for one of my own. A pretty, flared crimson skirt paired with a scoop-necked white blouse. The long sleeves combined with the tight fit made it appear “sexy without being too obvious.” Per Reagan’s recommendation, I’d worn my long brown hair down with soft waves, the ends grazing the middle of my back. She said my hair was my second best feature, right behind my breasts, and I wore my hair up much too often.

Reagan checked on our VIP booth, so I held onto the bar and stood on my toes as I scanned the room. It didn’t exactly help me see, considering that I’m barely five-three. Fortunately for me, Dorian was taller than the average man, making his gorgeous good looks stand out against the rest of us. When I glimpsed his handsome face, I swallowed nervously and made my way back. He was seated at a table just outside the VIP area. Of course he’d be able to secure himself a table and hold onto the last empty chairs in the club. I doubted anyone would have tried to take them from him.

His dark blond hair was smoothed back behind his ears, glossy and luscious. LED lights that wrapped around the wall illuminated the brilliant blue of his eyes, and my heart skipped a beat when he noticed me. He had been talking on his cell phone but ended the call and placed it on the table just as I arrived. I was surprised he was able to hear anything over the booming base of the club music.

“Hi,” I said, as I reached the table. Not the most eloquent impression.

He stood and pulled out my chair for me. “Good evening.”

I started to slip off my coat and his hands touched my shoulders. The contact sent a shiver down my spine. He gently pulled the sleeves from my arms and hung it on the back of my seat.

He was dressed more casually than the last time I saw him, but no less attractive. I preferred him like this. He wore a Navy blue dress shirt, open enough for me to see the top of his muscular chest, and expensive jeans. The kind that fit a man like they were made for him.

I noticed two of the bottle girls as they stood by the VIP bar. Each of them watched our entire exchange in awe. I noticed practically every woman in the surrounding area stared at him. I leaned across the table. “So, does this always happen to you?”

He scooted forward onto his elbows. “What are you referring to?” he asked, his tone matching mine.

I nudged my head in the direction of the women, and he laughed, the deep, sweet sound surrounding me.

“Ah, yes. I have noticed that I tend to cause quite a stir wherever I go. I think most people aren’t used to seeing a man of my size.”

“Your size? Seriously? They’re staring at you because you’re probably the hottest guy they’ve ever seen.”

I cringed. Did I really just say that out loud?

He leaned back and smiled from ear to ear; the dimples in his cheeks made him even more irresistible. His phone vibrated, and he casually checked the screen before he set it back down again.

I picked up a “Ladies’ Night” flyer off the table and pretended to browse over it. “Yeah, well, it’s not like you don’t know that.”

A set of long red fingernails reached in between us to set a tall, stout beer on the table. I peered up to see a different cocktail waitress this time, her green eyes wide as she admired my date. This one kept her movements purposefully slow as she ogled Dorian. I had to stifle a laugh when she pressed her bust forward and directly in line with his mouth.

“Is there anything else I can get you at the moment?”

He looked to me. “A drink for the lady, perhaps?”

I don’t even think she saw me.

“Gin and tonic,” I said.

She gave me a curt smile but directed her attention back to Dorian with a promise to return shortly. Most people wouldn’t have been able to get a waitress in these crowds.

I was about to ask him where he’d moved from, when Reagan’s head popped in right between us, scaring the crap out of me.

“Here you guys are! I was looking all over for you. Our booth’s ready.”

We followed Reagan. Dorian trailed behind me, his body close enough to touch. He kept his arms out at his sides and waited for us both to take a seat before he sat down. Up a short flight of stairs, the VIP area overlooked the club, almost at stage level. The air smelled cleaner, fresher, and it was nice to not feel so cramped or closed in.

“The other bartender told me they’ve been crazy since the doors opened at nine, but I made a big stink about how long it took and that it’s my birthday and they’re gonna send over a bottle of champagne! How awesome is that?” Reagan said, her giddy voice revealing her excitement and happiness. I now knew coming out tonight was the right idea. Not just for me, but for the both of us. I knew the reprieve fate had given me would be short-lived. That single fact kept me from truly enjoying myself one hundred percent. I made sure to keep my movements casual and unnoticeable, but every few minutes, I checked the crowd, searching for the things I didn’t want to see.

“There’s Julia and her brother!” Reagan said. “Be back in a sec. You two don’t have too much fun while I’m gone.” She winked and disappeared into the crowd. Dorian’s cell lit up on the table for the fifth time in the last few minutes, and he looked down, checking his text messages. I couldn’t help but feel slightly deflated. One minute he liked me, the next he seemed bored. When his face lifted from his phone this time, he had a deep frown, clearly displeased with something.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

He gave me a tight smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, it’s fine.”

But I got the impression that everything wasn’t fine. He was hiding something, but I didn’t know him well enough to ask or press the issue. His rigid body and stiff back betrayed how stressed and tense he really was. He watched the club now.

My thoughts circled around all the possible reasons. Maybe he’d invited someone and they weren’t coming? Maybe his ex was texting him nasty messages? Maybe it was bad news from work?

I shook my head. Tonight was Reagan’s birthday—her chance to have a great time and not worry about her crazy best friend. Dorian, although absolutely gorgeous, wasn’t my priority. Tonight was about one last time of having fun and enjoying ourselves. I spied Reagan out on the dance floor with Julia, the two of them shaking their booties as they danced to a popular hip-hop song.

No more sitting here wallowing in whether or not someone was into me. I was going to join my best friend, celebrate, and get drunk. I leaned over to Dorian. “I’m gonna go dance with the girls. Do you want to come?”

He debated internally. He looked over to where the girls hung out, just outside the VIP area, near the bottom of the stairs. “No, thank you. I’ll watch from here.”

“Okie dokie,” I said. I offered him one last smile and hurried down the stairs.

I stayed out on the dance floor through at least six more songs, laughing and drinking beside Reagan, Julia, and her brother, David. Anytime a strange guy came over to join us, we shooed him away. This was our time and we were absolutely loving it. Reagan had asked why Dorian hadn’t joined us, and she even went as far as to signal for him several times, but all he did was smile and shook his head. Off and on, he was on his phone, that same stressed look on his face. After the next couple of songs, Reagan encouraged me to go see if he was okay.

I dropped down beside him, wiping the sweat from my brow. “Everything good here?”

I tried to keep my tone light and airy. I’m sure he didn’t mean to offend anyone. He was too much of a gentleman to do that.

“I’m sorry for my mood. It’s not normally like me to sit everything out, but I’ve had a bit of an issue with . . . work.”

“It must be hard to start a new job in a new place and then have work issues to top it off.” I placed my hand on his forearm, the firm muscles hot to the touch. He looked down at me now, truly looked at me, for the first time all night. “I’m certain things will get better.”

His expression went from confused to something I couldn’t ascertain. Was he surprised? Intrigued? Turned on? Whatever it was, he liked the contact because he placed his hand over mine. His eyes flashed to my lips, and I flushed. I wanted him to kiss me. To
really
kiss me. Deep and passionate and without restriction or pause. He dipped his head forward until we were barely a breath from touching. I licked my lips and felt the soft brush of his mouth, when a flash over his shoulder caught my attention and I pulled back, shocked by what I saw.

A face.

An inhuman face with sagging white skin and soulless eyes watched me from between the crowd. Blue lights flashed with the beats and swirled around the room. Fog machines blasted smoke onto the dance floor as a new song came on. I squinted, trying to see through the constantly moving sea of bodies. The face flashed again, then it was gone. I could only catch glimpses of it, but I swore it was there. In the next second, I looked again and a normal man grinded up against his partner. Was I going crazy? Losing my mind? Was this what the rest of my life was going to be like? Constantly looking over my shoulder for the monsters that tormented me?

Dorian grabbed my hand, his eyes glancing out toward the dance floor. “Are you all right?”

I wished I could say yes and actually mean it, but I couldn’t. So instead, I nodded and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “I’m fine, I just think it’s too hot in here. I think I’ll just take a break for a minute and get some water.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, no, I’m just gonna head to the bathroom and sprinkle some cool water on my face.”

“You’re sure?” Dorian asked.

I gave him a weak smile. “I’m sure.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but he stood and helped me to my feet. He watched me as I walked down the stairs and into the ladies’ room.

The bathroom was more crowded than the dance floor, and I had to wait at least ten minutes before I could get into a stall. When I finally did, I closed the lid and plopped down onto the seat as I tried to collect my thoughts and calm down. The voices of two girls sharing a stall next to me caught my attention.

“Did you see that stud in the VIP area? Oh my god, he’s sexy.”

“The blond? Hell yes, I saw him. How could I miss him?”

“I’m gonna wait until he heads for the men’s room, then I’m gonna corner him in the hallway and have my way with him.”

The both burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Tina, you’re so bad!”

“I know.” She giggled. The toilet flushed and they both headed back toward the mirrors on the other side of the bathrooms.

I waited another few minutes before I left the stall. As I rounded the corner, several women stood with their faces jammed against the mirrors, fixing their makeup, fluffing their hair, and adjusting their breasts to give a better view. I beelined for the sinks, forcing my way in between a few of them. I ran the cool water, splashing it over my cheeks and forehead several times. I didn’t care if it ruined the small amount of makeup I’d worn. The crisp splashes were exactly what I needed.

Muffled sounds, barely noticeable at first, increased through the walls of the bathroom. Slowly the muffles grew louder until they sounded like booms. When the last few women went to leave, the sound came through the door, clear as day. My stomach dropped as I realized what it was.