Enigma
Chapter Seven
Aria caught her attention with a light grip on her arm. "Let's get a drink."
Abby nodded. "Why don't you find us a table? I'll get the drinks this round."
They both made their way over to the tables. As Aria slid into one of the tall chairs she remarked, "This place is so flipping cool."
Abby rolled her eyes. "It's a club, Aria. Your drink of choice?"
"Something sweet but tart," Aria replied unhelpfully. Her eyes seemed glued to the dance floor.
Abby made her way to the bar where she squeezed up to the bar and signaled the guy tending it. A couple of men tried catching her eye but she pretended to be blind. When the bartender reached her, she ordered a Sweetheart Tea, Aria's favorite and a dry martini.
On her way back to the table she spotted Aria talking with a guy. Aria's expression was pained and when Abby actually looked at the guy she understood why. The guy was dressed as if he had time wrapped in from the seventies. Even his hair, which was feathered back, resembled something out of the previous century.
His jacket was tweed, his pants had some sort of green and brown crisscross pattern with wide bellbottoms and his boots were faux white snake skin with flat heels. The man was either very confident in his looks, which Abby couldn't see from her current position or he was clueless. Abby was leaning toward clueless but wasn't going to hold her breath.
Coming up to the table, Abby leaned in close to Aria and studied the man for a quick second. Thin, almost non-existent moustache across his upper lip and a ratty looking goatee detracted from his looks. Milky blue eyes that wrinkled at the corners and his nose was slightly red at the tip. Worse still, he had to be as old as her father, if not older.
Slipping an arm around Aria's shoulders, Abby purred, "Hey sweetie, here's your tea."
Aria was a quick study. Snatching Abby's hand she cooed, "Thanks baby."
Smiling, her eyes sparking with amusement Abby glanced at the man. "Who's this?"
"Just a guy that wanted to dance." Abby narrowed her eyes and, still playing along, Aria quickly said, "I tried telling him I couldn't but he wouldn't listen."
Turning her hard look on the guy she said, "Are you bugging my girl?"
"Your girl?" His tone was skeptical. "I don't believe it."
"No? Let me tell you how much I don't care what you believe," Abby barked out. "I will, however, show you exactly how much I hate it when someone tries to poach on my territory."
Unimpressed, he snorted. "You're a little bitty thing. No way do you scare me."
"Maybe I do."
All three of them swung eyes around to the newcomer. Abby audibly gasped. Abby simply looked amused. The man in the tweed jacket, however, looked as if he'd just swallowed a horrible tasting potion.
Backing up a step, tweed jacket muttered, "I don't want trouble."
"In that case, my suggestion to you is - leave," the stranger replied coldly.
The flashback to the past took one last look at Abby, then Aria before spinning about and taking off into the crows. With her heart pounding, Abby foolishly wanted to join him. She hadn't given the sexy but disturbing stranger a thought and yet, here he was, messing with her libido.
Aria smiled. "Hey, thanks."
His expression inscrutable he said, "No problem."
Abby could tell Aria wanted to say more but just then a second man appeared. He didn't even glance their way but immediately began speaking to the hero of the hour. "Damien, what are you doing? I thought…"
At that point, he happened to look over and spot Abby. His gaze slid sideways to Aria a second later. Damien (Abby was pleased to know his name) glowered. "I was taking care of a problem."
"Oh. Uh-huh." The newcomer didn't seem to be listening. His gaze was still locked onto Aria as if he'd never seen a woman before. Aria seemed to be having the same problem if her open mouth stare was any clue.
Abby nudged Aria slightly. It was enough to get Aria to snap her mouth shut. Abby sighed and looked up as if pleading with the heavens. Having an aunt who was only a few months older was odd enough; to have one openly drooling over a man was downright embarrassing.
The new stranger stepped forward. Holding out a hand to Aria he introduced himself. "Hi. Nathan Quinton. You are…?"
Not very subtle, was he? Aria was no better. "Aria. This is Abby. Would you like to dance?"
Nathan gave her a devastating grin. "I'd love to."
Within a second Aria was up and walking away, her hand in Nathan's. Shaking her head and muttering mentally, Abby slid onto the chair Aria had just vacated. She was taking a sip of her drink when she remembered she wasn't alone.
Sliding her eyes in his direction, Abby watched as Damien sat in the chair beside her. Their knees brushed, that was how closely the chairs were placed at the table. Abby suppressed a shiver.
The shiver was soon replaced with irritation because his steady stare was annoying and just a little unnerving. Finally, unable to take another second, she snapped, "What? Have I suddenly grown a huge, fat wart or something?"
"Something," he replied lightly. "Don't you want to dance?"
"Not my thing," she mumbled, not caring if he heard or not. She was still trying to puzzle out what he meant by 'something.'
Despite the blast of music, he heard and said, "Nor is it mine." There was a moment of disturbing quiet and then he asked, "Do you live on Dearing Lane?"
Not wanting to be rude but unwilling to tell him where she lived, she only shook her head. In truth, being this close to him was making her…warm. Too warm. He was too damn good looking and her body was reacting in ways she didn't want with him so close.
She didn't do flings or one night stands so keeping herself in check was easy, but still she didn't like how attracted she was too him. Especially considering that there seemed to be something…off…about him. Or maybe that was just her imagination. Damn, she didn't know. Wasn't sure she wanted to find out either.
"Do you live in that area?"
"Interested for a reason," she countered.
Seeming at ease he replied, "Curiosity. I saw you and your friend on the road to Quarry Point so isn't it natural to ask."
She remembered. To him she said, "That answer isn't really an answer at all. Why do you care where I live? Plain curiosity just doesn't seem to fit."
He cocked his head and studied her a moment. "Why are you so secretive? Is it a national security matter? Will agents swoop in and take me out if you tell me?"
"I'm not being secretive," she argued. His comments made her feel like a small child who had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She didn't like the feeling. "I don't go around telling perfect strangers where I live. If I did, I think my father would kill me right before he had a coronary."
He looked astounded as he asked, "Your father abuses you?"
"What? No!" Surprised at his conclusion she exclaimed, "Dad's not mean. If anything he's too protective."
He frowned but said, "I see…I think."
Deciding to turn the focus from her she asked, "Why were you just standing around that day?"
"Waiting for someone." His reply was easy, practiced and she didn't believe him, not entirely. As if to himself he added, "I can't believe it. It's really can't be that easy. Can it?"
Curious she inquired, "Are you talking to me or yourself?"
Ignoring the sarcasm he asked, "What do you do?"
"Huh?" she said stupidly.
"Your career," he clarified. "What is it?"
"Mythologist," she answered with the truth. She didn't see the point in lying about her career. "What do you do?"
He shrugged. "This and that."
Abby wrinkled her brow. "That's not an answer."
He grinned, showing even white teeth but it was how devilishly sexy the grin made him appear that had Abby sucking in a breath of air. No man should look this good. It just wasn't right.
"I do what I need to do and nothing more," he explained which still wasn't much of an explanation but when he added a wink at the end she couldn't help but smile…just a little.
Still, she would have liked to have a real answer so stubbornly persisted by saying, "If what you do is -" she smiled tightly "- so top secret, you could have just said so."
"Ah, but it wouldn't have been as much fun," he rejoined with a wicked grin. "Especially since that temper suits you well."
"Excuse me?" She was sure she'd heard him wrong.
"You're a lovely looking woman, as I'm sure you know."
She didn't know but that was beside the point. "Are you hitting on me?"
"No. Never that," he remarked dryly. "Just stating a fact."
Not for one second did she believe him but he was good at hiding what he was thinking so she couldn't be sure. With narrowed eyes she muttered, "Who the hell are you?"
"Damien," he replied offhandedly.
Since she hadn't meant to ask that question aloud her reply was a little snippy. "I know your damn name."
"Well then, I'm no one other than who I am," he replied.
"Annoying. Your damn annoying is what you are," she growled. "Do you always talk like that?"
"Like what?"
"In riddles." She knew she sounded like a royal bitch but she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. "God, but you're a trial to talk to."
His answering chuckle on served to infuriate her even more. "I think I like you Abby, there's nothing…fake, about you."
"I haven't got anything to hide so why be fake," she retorted, brushing aside that little voice that said, uh, witch, that's something you're hiding. "I think you have secrets, though."
"Don't we all?" was his easy reply. "Even if there tiny, minuscule things, we all have something we don't want the world to know. I'm a private person who simply likes to be left alone."
He had her over a barrel with the secret thing but the whole private person thing tugged her the wrong way. "I'm not the one who started this. You came over here so don't go getting your boxers all in a twist about being left alone. I'll be happy to do just that."
His sigh was long and hard. "Yeah. I know."
A little of the anger that had been building inside her trickled away when she saw his forlorn expression. That and he wasn't accusing her of violating his territory. Still, he was a little irritating. After all, he was the one giving half answers, speaking in riddles and then claiming he wanted to be left alone. The man was a contradiction in terms and aggravating to boot.
"Would you like to dance?"
Since she was still looking at Damien when she was asked she knew he wasn't the one doing the asking. Standing to the side was a man about an inch taller then she was. His face was round, smooth, with freckles bridging his nose and the apple of his cheeks. Thick spectacles caused his doe brown eyes to have an owlish look. His pointy chin, rather then make him look harsh or weak, gave him an elfish, charming appearance.
Smiling a little to soften her denial she said, "No, thank you."
As if he was used to rejection his return smile was a little sad but he turned and walked away without pushing the matter. A small part of her felt horrible about turning him down. She hated saying no; it made her feel like a jerk every time she did. It wasn't as if she could explain that it wasn't him but her. Not when it was only a dance he'd been asking for.
The truth was, however, that she didn't do much dancing. She came to the clubs for the music and to keep Aria company. She wasn't there to find a date or to dance the night away. Besides, she looked like a fool when she danced or at least believed she did. The last time she'd actually danced was at the end of her seventh year at Hogwarts when the seventh years had a graduation party. Her partner that night had stepped on her toes so often; there hadn't been any need for her to apologize for her less than cool dancing style.
"Are you actually upset that you turned him down?" Damien sounded odd, as if he'd swallowed something bile but when she looked at him his expression was smooth. "If turning him down is so upsetting, get up, track him down and dance with him."
She shook her head. "I can't dance."
"Can't?" he asked doubtfully.
"Won't," she snapped. "I won't dance. Is that better."
A light came into his eyes, one that Abby didn't particularly like; it spelled trouble - for her. Instinctively she shoved back away from him as far as she could. "I really don't like that look on your face."
"No," he said softly. "Most wouldn't."
In the next instant he was on his feet and pulling her up into his arms. Without giving her a chance to protest he was leading her onto the dance floor. She tried tugging free but his grip, though not painful, was firm. On the dance floor he spun her around, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
Abby stiffened. Being this close to him was causing all sorts of short circuiting in her wiring. When his head leaned in close and his lips brushed her ear she almost dropped to the floor as her knees went weak.
"Relax," he breathed against her ear. "It's a slow song. Just move you hips and sway to the beat."
Not wanting him to know how he affected her, she said, "Ha! Easy for you to say."
She could have sworn he laughed but when she looked up his expression was smooth, emotionless. She wasn't buying it but the longer she stared up at him, the more she forgot about everything else. Her mind simply ceased to function except to think of him, the feel of his arms, the press of their bodies, the heat of him against her.
His eyes, as black as night, never wavered from hers. They seemed to suck her in and made her forget that a world beyond her and him even existed. Black onyx and glittering, she could have stared into the depths of his eyes forever.
Somehow Abby found the willpower to look away. She only wished she could do the same for how he was making her feel. Her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird against her ribs. Her belly quivered with anticipation and something stronger…desire? Fear? Breathing was difficult, the air felt thick as sludge. It was all so terrifyingly thrilling and Abby wanted no part of it.
The song ended and she quickly moved back, out of his arms, away from him. Not trusting herself to look at him, she said, "Thanks." Without another word she scurried away, very much like Wicker with tail between legs.
When she reached the table she hastily picked up what was left of her drink and gulped it down. As Aria was still dancing, she drank hers too. She was debating the merits of getting a third street and Damien arrived at her side, glass in hand.
Holding it out to her, he said, "Here."
Without thought she took it. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Know what I want before I do," she accused in puzzlement.
"It's not a mystery," he replied evenly. "I wanted a drink and manners dictated I also get one for you."
"Right." And if she believed that, she might as well buy that bridge over the Thames she was sure someone had for sale somewhere.
"You don't believe me," he remarked astutely, his dark eyes glittering with amusement.
How could she? It was like he could read her mind. No one, not her parents or Aria, who was her best friend as well as her aunt, knew her this well. How could he? Yet that was how it felt. It felt as if he knew her better then…, then she knew herself.
"Honestly?"
"No, please lie to me," he muttered sardonically.
Abby ignored the tone and said, "I'm not sure what to believe."
It was the truth. There was something there but she couldn't quite put her finger on what that something was. Damien set her on edge even as he heated her blood and made her want things she hadn't wanted since Brian and her and called it quits.
He made her want. She was lusting after his body and she didn't do things like that. Attraction was a healthy, normal response. She knew this, accepted it, but what Damien made her feel was harder, hit deeper and that was what bothered her the most. Add to it that she wasn't looking for a relationship and the best thing she could think to do was to avoid Damien.
Abby frowned into her glass and tried not to think about her life. It was sort of depressing once she did and so she didn't. Or, at least she tried not to.
Of course she wanted to meet Mr. Right, marry and have kids but she wasn't in such a rush that she felt the urge to date every man she thought was cute. Or everyman that tickled her passion button. She was, she believed, a little more mature than that.
Besides, she didn't think rushing along in life was a good thing. Her parents had made a muck of things for nearly ten years. Okay, sure, their lives had been a little frantic, what with old Moldy Voldy on the loose, but after, when the war was over, they'd still screwed things up. When - not if - when she fell in love, she was going for the stick with me forever after kind and damn it, that meant taking things slow. And that didn't mean jumping into bed with just anyone who happened to push her buttons.
Damien was enough to almost make her forget her own rules. Not a good thing as far as she was concerned. Yep, avoidance was the answer. She'd stick with that even if it did depress her. Stupid feelings!
Aria with Nathan at her side came back, distracting Abby from her dark thoughts. Smiling at Aria, Abby was pleased to see the flushed cheeks, starry eyes and rosy lips. It was true that Aria fell in and out of love as quickly as a revolving door but she wasn't promiscuous so Abby didn't begrudge her aunt the emotion.
Hell, a part of her envied Aria. She wished she could be that casual about love and life.
"Having fun?" Abby asked, already knowing the answer.
Aria's head bobbed happily. "I am. You?"
Not wanting to spoil Aria's fun, Abby said, "It's been, um, interesting."
Thankfully Aria didn't look any deeper then the words. Then again, Aria was busily staring at Nathan so Abby probably could have said she was joining a nunnery and Aria would have happily agreed. Nathan, who was having a low conversation with Damien, also had eyes only for Aria. Good. Aria deserved to have a little fun after all the hard work she'd been putting in over the last couple of years in St. Mungo's.
Watching the two men, Abby noticed the differences in them. Damien was dark. Black hair, black eyes, tanned, hard and weaved and air of danger. Nathan was just the opposite. Light blonde hair, light green eyes, pale sun-kissed skin and easy going.
Despite the differences, it was easy to see the two men had known each other for a long time. Their body language said they were close as did the easy way they communicated. Abby wondered how long they'd been friends. As long as Aria and her? Longer?
They finished their conversation and Abby could see the regret in Nathan's eyes when he looked in Aria's direction. "Sorry, but we've got to go. Maybe you and I can get together sometime?"
He sounded so hopeful Abby had to hide a grin. Aria didn't bother to hide hers. She looked thrilled. "Sure. Here's my card. It's got all my contact info on it."
Abby got a quick look before Aria handed it over and was relieved to see Aria had altered the card so her Healer status now read, Herbalist. The cell phone number was an amusing touch and she'd have to ask Aria about it later. Not many witches and wizards bothered with muggle technology. Magic messed things up.
Abby had a cell phone, but half her work was in the muggle world so she needed a way for those without magic to contact her. If Aria had one, Abby had to wonder why but decided to ask later, when they didn't have an audience. Besides, the thought of Aria carting around a cell phone was amusing and Abby wanted to be able to tease Aria openly.
Nathan took the card, glanced at it and then at Damien. If Abby hadn't been watching, she would have missed the exchange as it happened so quickly. What had that been about?
Nathan pocketed the card, leaned close and kissed Aria on the cheek. "I'll call you." With those final words he turned and walked away, Damien hot on his heels.
Aria gave a long sigh and said, "We might as well head on home too."
Abby rolled her eyes.
