Amanda Bonilla - When Shadows Call

“Here,” he said, tossing me a blanket from the bed. “I doubt you’ll need it, but in case you feel a chill.”

I caught the blanket and wound it into a ball around my hands. “A gentleman would take the sofa for himself and offer a lady the bed,” I said.

“Yes.” Azriel snuggled down onto the mattress and gave a contented sigh. “A gentleman would. Good night, Darian.”

I don’t know how long I stood there, staring at him. It wasn’t until I saw the steady rise and fall of his chest that I tiptoed to the side of the bed. My savior was no gentleman, he had admitted as much. And yet, I admired his unapologetic nature. He did not make excuses for his behavior or pretend to be anything other than what he was. I found his lack of pretense refreshing. “Good night, Azriel,” I whispered as I brushed his hair back from his brow. I couldn’t help but wonder, as I stared down at his perfect countenance, if I hadn’t jumped from the frying pan straight into the fire.

* * *

Unforgiving sunlight streamed down upon me, pressing me further into the cushions of the sofa. I felt the weight of daylight as I never had, as if I’d been bound in a strait jacket. Gone was the silky softness of shadow. Instead I recognized the sensation of being confined within my own skin and I wished I could peel the layers away and free myself from the prison of my flesh.

“You will soon grow accustomed to it,” Azriel said as he drew the curtains shut over the windows and balcony doors.

I rubbed the dregs of sleep from my eyes, but I was still so tired. I could sleep the entire day away, and I hoped that Azriel would let me. “I feel . . .”

“Trapped,” Azriel finished my sentence for me.

“Yes.”

“Only in the hours of darkness can you become one with the shadows,” Azriel said.

“I find that very disconcerting,” I grumbled.

Azriel laughed, and the sound of his mirth brought me closer to wakefulness. “Spoken like a true Shaede,” he said.

A true Shaede. Is that what I was? “Can I please sleep a little longer?” I asked. “Just until the sun sets.”

“I have no intention of letting you lay abed all day.” Azriel pulled the blanket off of me and tossed it to the floor. “We have things to do and sights to see. Aren’t you hungry?”

Hungry? Famished would have been a more accurate description. I hadn’t eaten in . . . “You never told me,” I said as I sat up to greet the day, “how long I was unconscious. It had to have been more than a week for us to travel all the way from California to Washington.”

“A week,” Azriel said with a carefree air. “Or two. I admit I don’t pay much attention to the passing of time. What does it matter? Are you hungry or not?”

“I’m very hungry,” I said. “Why don’t you pay much attention to time?”

I could tell by his constant dramatic sighs that Azriel had little patience for questions. “When you live forever, a week can pass in the blink of an eye.”

“Forever?” The word clung to my lips. He couldn’t possibly mean what he’d said.

“You are no longer human, Darian. You must stop thinking like one.”

“How can this be possible?” I wondered. Immortality was best left to storybooks.

“How can it be possible that you become one with the darkest shadows?” Azriel countered. “I won’t entertain your questions today. I’m hungry. I want to eat. Now, arise from your perch little bird, and let me feed you.”

I looked down at my torn and tattered dress and ran my fingers through the tangles of my hair. “I must look a fright,” I said. “I’m hardly presentable.”

Azriel went to the closet and presented me with a delicate lace shawl I recognized as one of my own, and motioned to a small vanity in the far corner of the room. “Run a comb through your hair. And let us be on our way.”

I’d been trained by Henry’s fist to be an obedient wife. I’d always thought it better to do as he said and not risk his ire. So as Azriel commanded, I sat at the vanity and began to work the tangles from my hair with a wide brush. I closed my still sleepy eyes as I brushed my hair when I felt a presence at my back. Azriel took the brush from my hand and stroked down the length of my strawberry-blonde curls.

“You have beautiful hair,” he said. “I imagine it would feel like satin against my naked skin.” I stiffened at his bold statement, and his chuckle sent a pleasant ripple across my scalp. “Will you wear it down for me today?” He murmured against the top of my head.

“But, Azriel,” I said. “I don’t have a hat. It wouldn’t be appropriate.” People would be likely to stare if my hair was left loose and curling around my shoulders. Add to that the absence of a hat . . . well . . . proper women just didn’t traipse around in public without at least a hat. Even women of the poorer working classes wore hats.

“No hats,” Azriel said. “I do not care for what humans think is appropriate, or proper, or in good taste. The wide brim of a silly hat would hide your beauty. I want to see your face and your hair shining and unfettered in the noonday sun.”

“Yes,” I whispered as he continued to brush my hair. Anything. I’ll do anything for you .

I nearly fell back to sleep as Azriel passed the brush over my hair again and again. When he set it down on the vanity, the sound barely registered in my ears. “All done,” he said. “Now, be a good girl and cover yourself with that shawl. Going out without a hat is one thing. A torn dress is another. We’ll eat and see the city. And,” he leaned over and planted a light kiss on the top of my head, “we’ll get you a new dress or two.”

I did as he asked and made sure to hide my destroyed dress with the lacy shawl. Azriel offered me his arm and I accepted it gladly. He didn’t make the gesture for anyone’s benefit. His gallantry had nothing to do with keeping up appearances or placating the town gossips. No, his actions were for me and me alone.

He’d won me over with a hairbrush and a proffered arm. And suddenly, forever didn’t seem long enough.

* * *

We walked through the hotel lobby arm in arm. Heads turned as we passed. The smug expression that I’d grown to appreciate returned to Azriel’s face. He enjoyed the attention, reveled in it.

Our breakfast was decadent, the hotel staff more than attentive. I did my best not to ask any questions, but instead allowed Azriel to draw me into simple conversation. Henry had never been interested in my thoughts or feelings on any matter. Azriel listened with genuine interest; he laughed when I said something that amused him, and his eyes gleamed with a heated spark when I said something witty or intelligent. We lingered long after our meal was finished, sipping coffee and talking in hushed tones.

“I’ve never had coffee before,” I said as a waiter refreshed my cup. “It’s delicious.”

“Are you serious?” Azriel asked. A smile spread across his mouth that made my skin tingle and my bones turn soft. “This is the first time you’ve ever had it?”

“Proper ladies drink tea,” I laughed. “Henry insisted that I be the epitome of a proper lady.”

“I take great satisfaction in knowing that I’ve introduced you to something that pleases you,” Azriel said. He leaned in conspiratorially and I mirrored his actions. “I hope to introduce you to many new pleasures, my darling.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks at the innuendo. I dropped my gaze and nibbled at my bottom lip.

“Extraordinary,” Azriel murmured. He took my hand in his and bestowed a kiss to each of my knuckles. “Come. Let us see what Seattle has to offer.”

Azriel came around the table and pulled out my chair. As I stood, he planted an innocent kiss on my cheek. I couldn’t help but brush my fingertips across my lips as I wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by him in a not-so-innocent manner. He brought my hand around his elbow and led me out of the restaurant back toward the lobby.