The Hidden (28 page)

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Authors: Jessica Verday

BOOK: The Hidden
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I shot a quick look around me, but I didn’t see Cacey or Uri to ask if they could give me a ride, and I wasn’t about to hang around waiting. I didn’t know how long Beth and Ben would be.
Maybe I can walk.

Putting my phone back into my purse, I was pulling my hand away from it when all of a sudden it buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?”

“Abbey? Hey, it’s Cyn. I know this is kind of weird, but … were you just going to call me?”

A creepy feeling settled at the back of my neck. I laughed weakly. “Are you stalking me, Cyn? I was just trying to see who I could call. I need a ride home from the dance.”

“I’ll explain everything when I get there,” she said. “Wait outside.”

While I waited for Cyn, I texted Ben that I was getting a different ride home, and she pulled up in a silver Audi about five minutes later.

“New car?” I asked, one eyebrow raised. “Holy crap, Cyn. You were holding out on me.”

She unlocked the passenger side. “It’s not mine. I … borrowed it. For the evening.”

I climbed in. The interior was all sleek black leather and
chrome gadgets. She gunned the motor, laughing as I frantically scrabbled to grab hold of the seat belt. “You really do have a thing for cars, huh?” I said.

“You don’t know the half of it. It’s sort of a hobby of mine.”

I slid a hand over the smooth dashboard in front of me in awe. “Seriously, Cyn. Where did you get this? Is it rented?”

“No. It’s not rented. I told you, I
borrowed
it.”

The way she said “borrowed” made me feel unsettled. “We’re not going to get pulled over because we’re riding in a boosted car, are we?” I said seriously. “I really don’t need that right now.”

“There won’t be any cops.”

I shot her a look.

“Trust me,” she said. “I do this sort of thing all the time.”

“You steal cars all the time?” I knew my jaw was hanging open.

“Not steal. Okay,
technically
, steal. But I see it more like borrowing. I always return it in the morning. And they never know.”

“They never know? You wouldn’t happen to be friends with Kame, would you? Or Sophie? What about Cacey and Uri?”

“Who?” She frowned, and I tried to read her face. Tried to see if she was bullshitting me. “I don’t know any of those people.”

I looked at her closely.

“Honest. I really, truly don’t,” she said.

“Then, what do you mean, ‘they never know’?”

She shrugged. “It’s sort of a gift that I have. I tell someone that I want to borrow their car, and they give it to me. Then I tell them that I’ll return it in the morning, and they don’t remember a thing. It just kind of … works.”

My life was getting entirely too complicated for this new piece of information. “Are you casting some sort of spell on them?” I joked.

She gazed at me. “If I said yes, what would you think?”

“Honestly?” I looked out the window before I answered. We were almost to my house. “I’m surprisingly open-minded.”

“I don’t really know if that’s what it is,” she confessed. “A spell, or whatever. All I know is that I get these feelings. Like the one tonight, to call you. That, and the fact that plants seem to like me. Maybe I am a little bit witchy.”

My house came into sight, and I was completely relieved. Normally I would have been happy to stay and talk to her about the freaky thing she had going on, but right now all I could think about was Caspian.

She pulled into the driveway and put the car into park. I unlocked my door and put one hand on the handle. “If you
want to talk about it later, just call me. I’d stay now, but I have … something else that needs to be taken care of.”

She glanced at the house. It was dark, except for a single light in the kitchen, and then she nodded. I opened the door and got out of the car.

“Thanks for the ride, Cyn,” I turned back to say.

She winked at me. “Have fun, Abbey.”

I was left standing there with what must have been a confused look on my face as she pulled away.
Does she know about Caspian? There’s no way …

I squared my shoulders and turned back to the house. Something told me that even if Cyn
did
have an idea of what was going on, she wasn’t going to tell anyone. At least not anytime soon.

I glanced down at my phone again, feeling a pinch of nerves in my stomach. It was 12:13 a.m. November first.

Caspian’s death day.

Chapter Twenty-one
N
OVEMBER
F
IRST

When he entered the house, the conquest of his heart was complete.

—“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

M
y legs were shaky as I walked up the front walkway, and I exhaled. I put one hand on the doorknob, turned it slowly, and then pushed the door open. A trail of red rose petals greeted me, leading the way across the living room and into the kitchen. I followed it and found a piece of paper there that said,
Astrid, come find me upstairs.

Placing my purse on the counter, I slipped off my shoes, then padded over to the downstairs bathroom. My white dress was hanging on the back of the door there.
Please let him like me in it …

Taking another deep breath, I unzipped the back of my red dress and wiggled my way out of it, draping it across the edge
of the tub. I pulled down the white dress and gently removed it from its plastic garment bag. The silky fabric whispered across my skin as I stepped into it, and I could almost hear the soft sighs of another time and place. Of another woman, who had worn this dress before me, to go meet the man she loved before he would be taken from her forever.

The bodice took some extra time to lace because my hands were trembling, but finally,
finally
I was ready.

I turned and looked in the mirror, slightly stunned again by my miracle cleavage. The dress was just as beautiful as the first time I’d tried it on. It was as if it had been made for me.

My makeup, however, was not beautiful anymore. I pulled off the false eyelashes that I’d been wearing, and washed away the mascara stains from under each eye. Luckily, I had a spare cosmetics bag under the counter, so I was able to touch up my blush and lip gloss. I didn’t want to overdo it too much. It didn’t feel right in this dress.

I debated whether or not to take my hair down, but decided to leave it up. Caspian hardly ever saw me wear it that way and I wanted to surprise him. I did take out the rose that Ben had given me, though, and put it on the sink.

With one final look, I left the bathroom behind and started slowly up the stairs.

I could feel the rough pattern of the carpet runner underneath my bare feet, and I tried to focus on that. My stomach felt all fluttery and nervous, and with every step I took, I came closer and closer to the reality waiting for me just a few short feet away.
Please, please let him like me …

Please …

The top of the stairs was lit with candles, and more rose petals were scattered on the floor. They pointed to my bedroom.

I bent to pick one of the rose petals up and rubbed the velvety smoothness between my fingertips.
This is a dream. It has to be.

My bedroom door was open, and I could see more candles lit inside there. The flower petal path led me to the bed, and I didn’t even realize that I’d been holding my breath, until I stepped into the room.

Caspian was sitting there. Head turned. Looking away.

Holding my breath, feeling my chest get tight and my head grow fuzzy, I moved closer to the bed. Closer to him.

He was wearing a tuxedo. Classic black, with a white shirt and dark tie. His hair was swept back, but I could tell that stubborn black streak didn’t want to stay in place, and his green eyes were bright and unnaturally shiny in the candlelight. Twin orbs of flame reflected back at me in the irises.

He stood and took a step. Then another.

I held my breath again.

“You,” he whispered, bringing his hand to hover by my cheek, “are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

And then he touched me.

A shock wave of feeling rolled through me, and I turned my face into his palm, closing my eyes, rubbing my cheek against his hand like a kitten demanding to be nuzzled.
Demanding
to be closer.

Finding it hard to believe it had been a whole year since the last time I’d felt his skin, my fingers were greedy and grasping, sliding onto his coat. Up his shoulder. Into his hair. I reached for him … and he was solid.

Caspian reached for me at the same time, and we crashed somewhere in between want and need. His free hand laced with mine, and I
felt
. Everything that was there, everything that made up
him
, I felt. The solid warmth of his fingers. The gentleness of his hand. Even the tiny bumps and ridges that were a part of his knuckles.

He cradled the back of my head, and it was blinding speed, and a mad, sweet rush as a tidal wave of emotion washed over me. The space between us had been there for
so
long, and now I was pressed against him, and laughing and crying, and trying not to let my makeup run all over the place again. …

And I could
feel
.

We
could feel.

He was real, and I was real, and this was
so real
.

I tipped my face up, blindly searching for his. He pulled away his hands and traced my cheeks, my lips, my eyebrows, my chin. Any part of me he could touch, he touched. Slowly. Achingly. While the whole time I was going mad, burning from a fire within that was tearing me apart.

“Please, please,” I heard myself whispering. “Please …”

Then he kissed me. And I was lost.

If I’d thought I had been burning before,
this
was drowning. My lips coaxed his apart, and I couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t feel enough. Wasn’t close enough.

I pushed myself against him and ran a searching hand through the inside of his jacket.
Closer
. I wanted to be closer.

A shirt was in my way, and I wanted to howl in outrage. Hurriedly, I unbuttoned the top button, and it gave way to skin.

I had found him, and he was mine.

Caspian groaned, and pulled me against him even tighter. I could feel all of him, even through the bulkiness of my dress. We moved backward, and a wall was suddenly behind me. My hands moved up, twining in his hair, and his hands moved down. Across my collarbone.

I couldn’t stop kissing him. Tasting him. Touching him. And my hands roamed freely. I had a lifetime of touch to make up for in such a short period of time.

He broke away and kissed my neck, I shivered. He slowed at a sensitive spot near the bottom of my ear, and my knees almost gave out. “Ummmmmmm,” I said.

“What’s that?” Caspian whispered. He lifted his head a fraction of an inch.

“Don’t stop. That’s what I said.”

“Oh, really?” He laced his fingers through mine, and pinned my hands against the wall. “Because I thought it sounded more like a moan than actual words.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I said, moving my head to give him better access. “Same thing.”

He returned his attention to my ear, and I barely noticed that he was looking at my dress until he pulled back again. “You wore that to torture me, didn’t you?” he said, lifting his head, eyes blazing a dark green.

“What do you mean?” I glanced down.

He freed one of my hands and pulled on the laces. “
This
. Is torture. Do you have any idea how long it’s going to take me to undo them?”

A wicked thrill shot through me, and I took a deep breath,
causing the laces to strain. I shook my head. “How long?”


Too
long. Much too long. And with your hair up, all sexy like that, and just a couple of these curls teasing me by falling down …” He traced a loose curl, and then groaned again. “Torture.”

Suddenly he wrapped his arm around me, and we were moving to the bed, falling onto it. He pulled me down on top of him, and my legs wrapped around his as a sea of rose petals and the skirts of my dress billowed up around us. He ran one hand gently down my face.

“I’ve been waiting a
very
long time to do that,” he said. “And I think I need to do it again.”

I let him pull me in again for another kiss, and this time we were both lost. I couldn’t get enough of his skin. He teased the corner of my lips, and I opened my mouth for him. But he pulled away.

I tried to pull him close again, offering myself in exchange for more, when he moved on to the corner of my eye. He slowly kissed his way down the side of my face, tracing a path to my neck. I freed one hand and reached up to let my hair down. It tumbled around us, and he growled a little as he plunged both hands into it.

My skin was growing warm. Too warm, and I wanted my dress off.
Now.

I was the one who pulled back then, and he tried to follow. But I held him down with the palm of my hand. Shaking my head, I gave him a coy smile and turned my attention to his shirt. The rest of the buttons were easy, and in no time his chest was laid bare.

I dragged my fingertips across his skin, and he shivered.

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