A/N: Who has amazing readers? I do! Thank you loves for the awesome feedback for last chapter! Here's the latest. Parts of this gets a little gruesome with the imagery, just a fair warning.
Disclaimer: These characters (Christian Grey belongs to EL James) are the creative property of LJ Smith/CW. No copyright infringement is intended.
I would like to blame the reason I was walking so slowly back to my room was due to cement blocks having been attached to my ankles, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. Placing one foot in front of the other, I moved forward though I felt I wasn't going anywhere. The distance between me and Damon's bedroom door stretched like trying to make your last twenty dollar bill last until your next paycheck.
Any moment now I expected a cold hand to clamp on my elbow and spin me around. Or, keeping my eyes forward I expected Damon to materialize at the end of the hall and stop me.
Contrary to popular belief he and I had split for about three weeks my senior year in college. He had been the one to initiate the break up that time. When I wasn't in class we spent every waking moment together, lived together, partied together, argued all the time. We weren't getting along and Damon figured we needed some time apart. I wholeheartedly disagreed—stubbornly, but later after much brow beating realized he had been right. So I moved back into the apartment with Caroline who had found a new roommate which left me to camp out on Couch City.
I had been miserable and Damon fared no better and he ended our stalemate three weeks later. Probably a record for us.
Our breakup back then had been for mental preservation. The choice I made which led to our divorce…a doozy. I was big and mature enough to realize this was all my fault. Playing the martyr cost me greatly, now all I could really do was recoup, but I couldn't even do that if Damon wanted no part of the process.
Did his not coming after me signify the end? I had little choice but to look at the evidence and for the moment was proving beyond a reasonable doubt he and I were over. Finished. There were no second chances left.
My sobs as quiet as I tried to keep them reverberated off the walls and boomed in my ears.
I made my bed. I had to lie in it. Or either I was going to be sleeping standing up for a long ass time. After all, tomorrow was another day. Lose one round. You go another. Lose that and never cease until you ran out of appeals.
I could pine after him, mourn the loss of our love, but I had something else to deal with. Only, I wish he would be there to help me.
Dawn was approaching. Rebekah stood behind me. The hussy was just now getting in after a wild night of partying with Robb Stark. Her hair was a mussed cloud of flaxen curls, hardly any traces of her lipstick could be found on her obscenely full lips, and I had a deep suspicion where exactly they could be found.
A cloud of cigarette smoke and alcohol wafted from her designer threads. And she couldn't stop grinning like hell. Yep, she had had a ball last night and early this morning.
Her fingers braided my hair as we stood on the terrace breathing in the frigid Canadian air.
"How was last night?" I pondered.
"I danced and drank my ass off. Say what you will about the landscape but the underground party scene is almost worth the optical depression."
I laughed.
"How did your night go? I'm assuming you and Damon shared some words. Did you share anything else? The bed is still standing, I see unless things happened in his room."
"Last night was…not at all what I expected. But I can't think about it right now."
"Why not? If he showed his ass…"
"Rebekah," I quelled soothingly knowing she was two seconds from snatching her earrings off and requesting a tub of Vaseline. "Damon was Damon and for now I just want to leave it at that."
I turned my head to give her a sidelong glance. She didn't look happy, I'll say that much.
"Still on the outs, then?" she guessed.
"Sort of. Tell me more about your night with Robb. Do you think you two hit it off? Will become better acquainted?"
Rebekah shrugged, "He's a nice enough fellow. Wonderful dancer. I just…got the distinct impression that he might fancy someone else. He's well-guarded so I couldn't exactly penetrate his forces," she smiled wickedly. "I'm not ruling anything out. He's asked me to dinner tonight. I haven't accepted."
"What? Why not? Well, I mean I understand why not if you think someone else is in the picture. Maybe this someone else has died and he hasn't let go? Or maybe his feelings are unrequited. You won't know until you find out."
"I don't know, Bonnie," my friend sighed wearily. "He's a squire to an Elder. So that makes him liable to be anywhere in the world at any given time for an unspecified amount of time. The last thing I want to do is involve myself with someone I'd have moments with. I'm too old dammit to settle for scraps."
"I see your point. You should never settle."
"And I'm hoping that you aren't as well," Rebekah penetrated me with her hawk-like glower. "Regardless of what happened between you and Damon last night just remember it's not the end of the world, and you have bigger problems on your hands," she worried her bottom lip. "What do you think this test you're about to undergo might entail?"
"I really have no clue," and that was the truth. A million scenarios had flown through my mind during the late night hours and anything could happen. I hated going blind into something but there just didn't seem any other way around it.
The faint hue of light brightened and though the sun was hidden behind a thick patch of clouds, a few stubborn rays of pale yellow light manage to break through and illuminate the earth.
The hour of reckoning had arrived and with it Winifred as she knocked on the door, and like last night, stuck her head through the minute opening.
"Good morning, Rebekah…Bonnie…are you ready?"
I nodded. "I'm ready."
"Please follow me."
Rebekah and I smiled at one another and then hugged fiercely.
"You better not die on me, bitch," she whispered.
"Trust me, I'll do my best. I love you."
"Not as much as I love you."
We held on to one another as long as we could. Rebekah's hands slid away and like a soldier being deployed to war, I left with Winifred to face my Minotaur.
"So what exactly is the Hall of Mirrors? Is it a room full of mirrors or is it something not as literal?" I resisted biting into my thumbnail a nervous habit I thought I had kicked back in the seventh grade when my boobs finally decided to develop.
Winifred didn't break stride as she led the way. Her footsteps were sure and almost sounded as if she were tapping out a beat with the heels of her boots.
"The Hall of Mirrors," she began, "is a place of revelation. Things are buried deep within the subconscious and the room was constructed back in the mid to late fifteenth century as a means of extracting information."
I connected the dots in my head. "It was a torture chamber."
I couldn't see Winifred's smile but I knew the corners of her plush mouth were tilted upward. "As I said, it was a place built with revelation in mind. It's been renovated since then. But I won't deny that some torture may have happened here. Puritans were not always pure."
Hearing that certainly didn't assist in making me feel loads better. Though my tongue burned with questions, I kept them to myself. Adding the bit of info Winifred imparted along with Robb Stark's advice about remembering what transpired wasn't real, the threat of trepidation didn't decrease but did the total opposite.
Up above I heard voices and when I looked to the second floor I saw Naomi and Damon walking in the opposite direction. My heart seized and for once fleeting second our eyes caught, held, and then he turned back to what his assistant had been saying.
Guess I would have to get used to his dismissal.
After a near three minute trek from one end of the castle to its dark underbelly, we had arrived at the famed Hall of Mirrors.
Winifred parted the ancient doors. Rust floated from the hinges as they swung open and revealed a mosaic wonderland.
"Wow," I breathed in awe taking in the sight before me. This place reminded me of a mosque. The vaulted ceilings, the colorful archways intricately carved and decorated in tile.
My ocular tour wasn't completed until my gaze landed on the dark pool in the center of the room. Robb stood on the far side of it, an unreadable expression on his face.
"Good morning, Miss Bennett."
"Mr. Stark," my voice croaked and I coughed to clear it.
"Are you ready to begin?"
"For the most part," I stated facetiously.
Robb took a step forward and held out his hand toward the pool. "What you see here is a reflecting pool."—really hadn't guessed that—"You'll have to submerge yourself in it for as long as you can stand, and I should warn you…it's very cold."
"How cold are we talking?" an inquiring mind wanted to know.
"Fifty-three degrees Fahrenheit."
"Say what now?" I blinked rapidly. "The human body can only remain submerged in that kind of cold water for minutes before hypothermia sets in, and it won't be a minute later before my organs begin to shut down."
"I'm aware of that, Miss Bennett," Robb did a poor job of trying to placate me. "That's why I said for you to remain underwater for as long as you can withstand."
"Maybe I'm dense, but I'm not seeing how going through a fraternity hazing is going to ascertain whether my problem is big enough for the Witch Elder to agree to help me," my eyes may have narrowed threateningly.
The once still surface of the reflecting pool began to ripple. That got everyone's attention.
Robb flicked those violet orbs toward me.
"What's going on? What's happening?" I asked.
"It's reacting to your shifting mood. It's eager to meet your acquaintance."
Oh lovely so "it" wanted to say hello? Rebekah already braided my hair so I supposed it wanted to paint my nails and toes.
Not seeing any way out of this other than to forget this whole business to start with, I sighed heavily. "All right. So I just dive right on in?"
Robb looked at Winifred who moved into my field of vision. "You have to bare your body, first, drink this concoction second," she pointed at a table with a glass of a blue liquid inside I hadn't noticed until now, "and enter the pool," she finished explaining.
My incredulous laugh filled the airways. I sobered, "All right," then I glared at Robb. "Turn around."
Both Winifred and Robb gave me some semblance of privacy as I stripped down to my skivvies. I grabbed the Jim Jones looking Kool-Aid and down the hatch the bitter and acrid fluid flowed.
Hopefully whatever it contained would either numb my senses or make me so high I wouldn't feel the cold prick of the water, or remember what was about to happen to me.
Placing the empty glass back on the table, I padded over to the pool, and examined the pure blackness of the water I was about to sink my body into.
The ripples started from the very center and fanned inward which was very odd. They should have been fanning out to the edges but…it was working in reverse if that made sense. Putting on my witch goggles, I would say this pool had been built right on top of a hotbed of paranormal activity.
Under any other circumstances that would be very cool, but this wasn't.
"I'm about to step in," I announced just so they'd know I wasn't deliberately stalling and so that Robb wouldn't prematurely turn around.
Taking deep breaths, I grabbed on to the railing and then sank my entire foot into the ice cold water. Immediately I wanted to snatch my foot out of it. Not because of the temperature alone, but because it felt like I had stuck my appendage in a vat of suffocating Jell-O. What the hell is this?
"Come on, Bonnie," I amped myself up or at least tried to.
With some great effort I placed my right foot into the pool and all my muscles recoiled. Step for step I sank lower until I was submerged to my midsection. My heart was pounding hard and already my breathing turned desperate and harsh as if someone stuck a plastic bag over my head. There was no way I'd be able to do this and not instantly hop out once this unidentified goo covered my head. But I had to brutally remind myself I never started anything with failure in mind.
Think of the good, Bonnie, think of the good, became my mantra as I again continued to enter the pool and sank lower. This time the goo came to an inch above my breasts. I was probably going to have to shower for a week to get this stuff off of me.
Somewhat hyperventilating, I stared up at the mosaic tiles of the ceiling. Plugging my nose, I snapped my eyes closed and took the plunge.
Unprepared. I was completely unprepared. In my wildest imagination anything could and probably would transpire. The effects of entering that pool could have felt like tumbling through space, moving quickly through time; or at the very least falling head first into a fiery pit of brimstone and hellfire.
Nope, none of the above. Just endless darkness. And cold. The coldness of the goo couldn't be ignored. So I found myself fixated on it for no other reason than the fact my fingers and toes had gone numb.
Strangely enough there was one persistent feeling that hadn't been touched by the cold. And in fact, this feeling was growing. Growing bigger and more demanding, and more ravenous and wide spread than any other feeling I had ever been lucky or unfortunate enough to experience.
It was hunger. And I'm not talking about the haven't eaten in three hours kind of hunger. Not even doing a month-long fast kind of hunger, but the type of hunger of a being that's lived for an inordinate amount of time and literally had only been surviving off its own saliva for centuries kind of a hunger. A hunger that spoke its own groaning and clawing language as it ripped apart the earth looking for sustenance the ground refused to supply.
My own stomach cramped, twisted, and burned with its gestational juices that had nothing of substance to break down. Bile was eating bile and it was the vilest feeling in the world.
I wanted to throw up but the thought of losing anything made the hunger cry out in misery.
Hunger began to take its own shape, separate itself from me and I could slowly start to see it. Crouched, dark, glowing flames for eyes.
The channels in my mind clicked and I stood in a room with a dark shadow in a corner. There was a floor under my feet and I was merely staring at this thing waiting to see what it would do.
It looked at me. I looked at it. We just communicated through sight.
Suddenly it stood, rising to its feet. It rose some eight feet in height, its wrist and legs bound in chains.
This physical manifestation of hunger clawed its hand down the side of its face, which really wasn't a face, mere shadows converging into more shadows. But the ripping noise like meat being cut from a bone sounded, and then the shadow proceeded to eat its own flesh.
I stared horrified as it viciously bit into the slab of flesh, chewed, its teeth turning red from the blood. What I hadn't anticipated was a searing hot pain on my arm, and when I looked down the muscles underneath my skin were exposed. A patch of skin almost the entire length of my forearm had been cut off it seemed.
Normally something like that would have had me shrieking and running around screaming for more than a Band-Aid. Instead, I stared damn near transfixed and thought hey, muscles really are bands of fibers. The next thing I knew I was bringing my right arm up and sank my teeth into my own flesh. Pulling, tugging, until a significant portion of my muscle ripped away and entered my salivating mouth.
I chewed happily.
The shadow laughed. So did I. Mm-hmm good.
However, the euphoria of putting an end to my unquenchable hunger ended because once I realized what I did, it all came back up. And what landed in a pool around my feet wasn't exactly what I just ingested, but a wriggling pile of earth worms.
The scenario shifted rapidly like I was on a turbo powered carousel and when it finally stopped spinning I was standing outside of a house. And I immediately recognized the house because after seeing this particular flick it made me leery about renting places to live.
I looked to the right and left of me and there was nothing. Just this house which meant I had no other recourse but to go inside.
Remember it's not real, I told myself as I pushed opened the gate. The front lawn…every blades of grass was black in color like it had been torched. There were no burn marks on the siding of the house. It appeared abandoned. Every single window from what I could see was intact. Swallowing, I made it to the front door and eased it open with just my fingertips since it had been left ajar.
My head popped through the opening. No furniture. No signs the place had been occupied recently. My trepidation rose with each step as I tip toed down the foyer and made it to the kitchen.
Now that was a pretty sight. Heads. Lots of them. Everywhere. Stacked on a table. Holding court on the center island. Catching rays of the morning sun piled in the sink. Missing eyes and tongues in various states of decomposition. Blood stained the floor, the walls, flies picked at whatever non-rotted piece of flesh it could consume.
The refrigerator door burst open and out poured…I don't even want to know what.
My gag reflex fluttered and I hastily turned around. The meaning of all this was of course lost to me. Seeing dead bodies was indicative of what exactly?
Ask questions later, Bonnie. Get out right now! I headed back the way I came and literally froze at the new vision waiting to greet me.
Seeing myself eating raw intestines…yeah, I took a detour out of the living room that had just moments ago been completely empty and then practically stomped down another hallway.
A thumping noise could be heard overhead and I refused to look up. This hallway led to a dead end but I could go through a pair of sliding doors, and when I did that freaky no shape shadow monster was there again, chained, and pulling at its belly.
Stumbling over my feet I retraced my steps, ignored the activity taking place in the living room where I could hear lips smacking and fingers being sucked clean, and tripped my way upstairs.
A trail of black rose petals with red centers led the way to someone standing at the far end of the hall, their back to me, but I could see the person was a woman.
Did I call out to this person? No. But she must have sensed my presence because she turned around and home girl didn't have a face. She started walking in that disjointed special effects way toward me and I swore every single hair on my body took flight and left me behind.
I could feel something crawling on my legs and when I did chance a look they were spiders. Black widow spiders and I started doing my version of the heel-toe to get them the fuck off me, preferably without being bitten. I had a rational and sometimes irrational fear of spiders. But black widows were deadly.
One bit me, then another. Oh fuck. It's not real, Bonnie. And all the while as I desperately tried to free myself that no face lady stood right in front of me, grabbed the sides of my head, and then her jaws began separating, growing wider and wider until I was sure her jaw would fall clean off.
That was it. I had enough. I could feel the venom of the spider bites flooding my system, shutting down my organs one by one, but I couldn't move. I was trapped. Imprisoned by someone whose hold I couldn't break.
A big nasty octopus looking tongue rolled out of the woman's mouth and I made the mistake of opening mine to scream. A gelatin-like substance filled my mouth, stuffed my esophagus and I was asphyxiating. Badly.
I don't know what happened after that. Either my heart stopped, I blacked out, or…something.
When I became aware of my surroundings I was holding myself up on the tiled floor, covered in black goo, shivering and naked.
It took a moment for me to get my bearings. To realize I was still alive. Part of me wanted to laugh but a much larger part of me wanted to curse.
A robe was draped over me and when I managed to look up it was into Winifred's eyes. She kneeled down to face me but then stared at Robb who nodded and then disappeared.
"Did it work?" I croaked. My throat was suspiciously sore.
"You are in desperate need of… my help."
I stared at Winifred uncomprehendingly. "I don't understand. You're the Witch Elder?" my voice went up an octave. "But you're a fairy."
"No," she smiled and then the glamour she had been maintaining wore off and her real identity was revealed to me but only for a second.
"Ohmygod. This whole time…?"
"Yes," Winifred or whoever held out her hands and assisted me off the floor. She walked me over to a little table and we both sat down. "You have questions but I don't have time to get into everything."
My eyes closed because things were much too bright and everything seemed so loud. What I was experiencing was the opposite of sensory deprivation. A presence within me rolled, curled, and thrashed around. My little houseguest was not pleased.
"Bonnie?"
"Hmm," I murmured absently.
"I need you to focus."
I blinked my eyes and settled them on Winifred who kept bleeding in and out of focus.
"What's inside of you is very dangerous."
She could say that again. "How do you know that? How were you able to…get my test results?" I accompanied that question with an eye roll.
"That concoction you drank was my blood." Oh thanks for telling me. "Through it I was able to tap into your thoughts and basically live the experience with you. You failed the tests you were given. A witch's first instinct is always to combat evil. You joined in."
Well, excuse me. Not exactly my fault, you know.
"It's also powerful," The Elder seemed reluctant to admit that. "It somehow…kicked me out. But only a few seconds before you emerged from the water."
"All right so what's the next step? I take remedial courses?"
The Witch Elder's lips thinned.
"Sorry, I handle bad news with ill-timed humor. I'm working on being serious, I promise you I am," I used the sleeve of the robe to wipe goop from my eyes and from around my mouth. "So I failed because I reveled with the evil spirit instead of doing what a witch should do so now we…?"
"Now we cleanse you. For good this time but we'll need the help of a Guardian of the corner you represent, and they are even more difficult to convince. In the interim, you'll need to wear this at all times until this spirit is expelled."
The Elder held out a thin silver bracelet with a fire agate stone pendant. "It's to keep you balanced. To keep you in control. To help with urges."
"Urges?" I fingered the egg shaped stone and then fastened the bracelet on my arm.
"Your control has been slipping as of late, yes?"
I nodded.
"And with heightened emotions it will only continue to grow more rebellious. You've held it off for this long, but it will begin to crave. As a consequence its food source will be drawn to you. If you indulge, give into to temptation you will start to lose control."
"Food source? Blood."
"Male blood in particular. The spirit within you is female by loose standards. Men, mortal and possibly immortal will be drawn to you. You'll need to extract yourself from any situation quickly before things get out of hand. I know this is a lot to take in and hopefully you will only have to deal with this for a week or two. This thing is not above using your weaknesses to get what it wants."
"But…why now? Why will mortal and immortal men be drawn to me when they weren't before? What's changed?"
"For starters…your eye color."
I was shuffled to a mirror and sure enough my eyes weren't their natural shade of olive but were…an indescribable blend of fuchsia, violet, brown, and crimson.
"How am I going to explain this?"
"This should only be temporary. I've seen this happen before. Your spirit is compromised, Bonnie."
"And the soul can be seen through the eyes."
"Yes."
"Other than my eyes changing…what else about me is different?"
"How people will perceive you. They will sense your preternaturalness more easily. Being a witch it's easy to blend. Do nothing to call more attention to yourself. Just remember this is all temporary. Avoid temptation and you will be back to your version of normal as soon as I petition the Guardian."
I turned from my reflection and faced The Elder. "Should I stay here?"
The Elder shook her head. "Robb and I are to depart from this place tomorrow night. It is best you return home. We will be in contact with you."
"Thank you."
"Thank me when this is finished."
Well, with The Elder and Robb leaving, Damon and I being…estranged, there was no reason to stay in Nova Scotia.
When Rebekah saw me, she freaked and asked me a million questions to which I had about five answers to. I explained while packing what I had been warned about, showed her my new mood regulating bracelet, and then she and I were waiting for the ferry to shuffle us back to the airport. Robb and The Elder masquerading as a fairy said they would be in touch, and let me know of the next rendezvous point.
"Stop staring at me," I snapped.
"I can't help it. It's not everyday someone's eyes magically change color. Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes. I feel a little off balanced but I'm sure I'll feel like my usual self in a couple of days."
"Well," Rebekah shrugged, "I guess having your eyes change color is better than having boils everywhere or reptilian skin."
Yes, anything was better than that.
Summer was in transition to fall but wasn't quite ready to roll out. Humidity still hung around like a freeloader. The land was parched for some overdue rain, and the temperature flirted with a baking eighty-eight degrees even at seven in the morning.
I welcomed the heat after being in dreary Nova Scotia where after my…ordeal I was perpetually cold. Being back at home I expected to feel some semblance of culture shock, but in fact I began to feel as if I were hiding in plain sight. Seattle Lake had become home and I could be happy about that. I missed it and all its trappings, and was even looking forward to reporting to work in the next hour despite my stomach doing a Gabby Douglass floor exercise routine at the thought of it. The flutter of nerves, the excitation, the anxiety that everyone around me was exactly the same whereas I had undergone reconstructive surgery, I'm sure responses to my makeover would be mixed.
Checking my reflection one final time to make sure every hair was in place, not a loose thread was poking out of the seam of my celadon Elie Saab sleeveless dress, no scuffs on my pumps, and the bracelet the Witch Elder had given me clasped to my wrist, I was ready to go.
Maybe with me wearing green no one would notice that my eyes all of a sudden changed color without the use of contacts.
Driving into work since the gossiping meteorologists predicted a bad storm happening around rush hour, finding a spot in the underground parking garage didn't turn into a hassle I had predicted it to be.
Within minutes, I was in the main lobby exchanging pleasantries with Officer Coleman who couldn't decide if he wanted to ogle my legs or eyes, probably wishing he could make his orbs go in different directions. He literally wiped a corner of his mouth.
"You're looking well, Miss Bennett. You were out of the office," he gulped. "I hope everything is all right."
I signed my name on the sign-in sheet, and flashed the older man a smile. "I'm perfectly fine. Have a good day, Officer Coleman."
"You as well. If you're working late I can stay and make sure you get to your vehicle all right."
"I'll be fine," I tossed over my shoulder as I walked away.
Scuttling over to the lift, I rode the overcrowded elevator to the twenty second floor.
There was an unmistakable tension in the elevator. I had counted seven men total the rest of, the passengers being female. But the men subtly adjusted their ties, cleared their throats, thrust their hands into pockets, or ran shaky fingers over the back of their necks. A couple I caught them throwing me furtive looks.
As people began to file out on their designated floor one had to be blind not to see the men were a tad bit reluctant to step off the elevator. Ordinarily I'd be kicking up my heels, but the warning the Elder gave me, about the pull being more conspicuous, I knew I had to exercise even more caution or things could escalate and end badly…for the one to instigate something.
I had finally arrived on my floor, the lone passenger left. Insofar the floor was quiet. I wanted to get in early to have a solid thirty minutes of peace to re-assimilate myself to work. I was already cringing in preparation of opening up Outlook and seeing what I already knew to be fact. That Cheryl and Dakota hadn't touched a single thing in my absence and sent all escalated matters to me, thereby making my first day back at work hell.
Dumping my attaché and purse on my desk, I logged in, and then headed into Mr. Grey's office to do my usual Monday morning check.
I stumbled on my feet completely taken a little off guard at the fact he was sitting behind his desk, on the phone, rifling through a report.
His head snapped up, those ash eyes narrowed only infinitesimally but enough it hadn't gone unnoticed. "I'm going to have to call you back, Lyons. Someone very important just walked in."
Christian hung up without giving the other person the courtesy of saying goodbye. He rose from his desk and approached. I stiffened my spine unsure of what to expect.
"You're back," he stated the obvious.
"I am."
He drew a measured eye over me and yeah I did the same to him. White button down shirt, silver tie, gray pants, crown of messy reddish—correction—sandy blonde hair. Hmm. My boss must have spent a great deal of time in the sun and it naturally lightened his hair. It didn't look color treated but I could be wrong. Nevertheless, it didn't take away or diminish the appeal of his uber masculine features. That strong jawline overrun with a light fuzz of hair. Those lips.
Snapping out of it I pasted on a formal smile and didn't move a step forward or backwards.
Christian didn't come any closer. But then, not much space was left between us. Maybe a good foot. Maybe.
"Your eyes…" he trailed off absently switching between each orb cataloging its vastly unique difference from my natural color. His right hand stirred as if it wanted to touch me but he regained control of it and balled his hand into a fist.
"I know."
"What happened? They aren't contacts that I can tell."
"It's hard to explain, but it's only temporary. Or so I've been told."
"You're not in any pain are you?" his brow crumpled in concern.
I shook my head. "I'm not in any pain, Christian."
Mr. Grey didn't exactly believe me, but he was willing to let the matter go for now. "I'm about to request something inappropriate."
"Christian," my tone held warning.
"I would love to hug you right now," he took a step forward, towering over me. "Bonnie, you've been gone for three weeks, come back and your eyes are a different color, and there's something…changed about you I can't quite put my finger on. But whatever it is, its powerful and I would be remiss if I let you slip through that door and not show you how much your absence…affected me. Please? I'll keep it clean, I swear."
An indulgent smile tugged at my lips. "Said the spider to the fly," I stared up at my boss underneath an awning of lashes.
"And the spider has been waiting a long time to eat," he grinned infernally.
Inches became centimeters and I pressed my hand on his chest, his left peck to stay him. "Mr. Grey, you shouldn't."
"Tell me something I'm not aware of."
"I'm here to work. So are you."
"And I promise to return to my duties as soon as you acquiesce to my…well you know. One hug that's all I'm asking for, Bonnie and I promise to let you go."
Without giving it too much thought because we could easily talk ourselves into or out of something, I wrapped my arms around my boss. I tried not to press my face on his shirt. Didn't want to leave any traces of makeup behind. Christian, for his part, bent his knees a little and rested the bottom of his chin on my shoulder. Connected and intertwined we remained that way for exactly five seconds before I felt that internal flare, which let me know my unwanted roommate was two seconds from striking.
I pulled away from Christian who immediately straightened to his full height, but then his forehead connected with mine and his fingers dug a bit into my waist.
"Go sit down and get back to work, Mr. Grey."
He full on smiled, "Yes ma'am."
Christian let go, pivoted in his shoes, and took his place on his throne. After taking a second to clear my head I went about my duties, checking his dry cleaning closet and extracting the suits that needed to be sent off. Next I entered his personal bathroom saw all was in order, and the last object of inspection was his mini-fridge where I made a mental note to have housekeeping restock his water. Some purified brand he preferred from Iceland.
Suits in hand I came to stand in front of Christian's desk. "Is there anything else you need me to tackle before I officially begin my day?"
"Yes, can you have these manuals shipped out?" he indicated a pile of black laminate folders sitting on the corner of his desk.
I had a mini dilemma. My hands were full so I dropped his suits off on my chair, doubled back to Christian's office and collected the folders.
"Hmm," he murmured.
"What?"
"I just received an email from…Mr. Salvatore."
Oh?
"Apparently he's putting in his resignation."
"What?!" I had to stop myself from pushing Christian out of the way to look at this fabled email. Damon was quitting already? But he only just got here.
"His effective date is December 1st but he's letting me know way in advance I guess so I can find someone to fill his position. I cannot say he will be missed."
I remained quiet only due to the fact a pang was going through me. During the quiet of the night was the only time I allowed myself to think about Damon and what happened between us the last night we saw each other.
Woodenly I headed toward the door, but Christian called my name. I didn't turn around to face him.
"I'm glad you're back, Bonnie."
"Me too," I practically whispered.
"I may need you to be on call tonight."
I looked at him then, "Yes, sir," and got on with my day.
The Honey Tree Bar was the latest in posh establishments created for a clientele with a particular palate that bordered on the extreme. The only reason for my lovely presence was the fact my boss sent me on an errand to hand deliver some documents to a lawyer. This was to be my second inauguration, of sorts, seeing how I only returned to work this very day.
Brushing a piece of hair off my skirt, I scrolled through my phone waiting for Miss Bobbi Latham, Esquire to make her debut. We had scheduled to meet for drinks in the Savoy Lounge around seven. It was a quarter of.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Cinderella."
That voice made me stop in my non-moving tracks. I swiveled a little on the cushioned bar stool to face the owner of that voice. A grin slowly trekked it's away across my face, but I didn't budge from my post.
"Marcel Gerard not really surprised to see you."
"But I'm surprised to see you," Marcel draped in Ralph Lauren, stepped up beside me at the bar and braced his elbows on the surface. Those dimples enticed me to get better acquainted, whereas those brown eyes pummeled me mercilessly. I ignored all of that. The man was a natural flirt.
He blinked, "Your eyes…"
"Are very beautiful, yes I know and thank you," I replied glibly.
"Bonnie what happened?"
"Nothing I'm at a liberty to discuss," I said tightly.
Marcel didn't appear as if he wanted to drop it. I knew it would take a while for those who knew me to adjust to seeing my eyes this color. But sheesh it wasn't like I suddenly sprouted a horn in the middle of my forehead. I stared back at him sternly so he'd get the damn message to drop it and leave it alone like a murder weapon.
He cleared his throat, "You haven't been down to the club lately."
"I've been busy."
"So has the rumor mill."
"Oh," I lifted a brow and with it the cranberry bomber that had been sitting untouched for the last ten minutes. "What are the gossiping hens pecking about now?"
"That you've delved head first into dark magic and killed half the population of Mystic Falls."
I laughed raucously at that to which made Marcel smile even wider. His boyish charm fluttered off him in tongue twisting waves that on any other night probably would have had my stomach flipping uncontrollably.
"I'm glad to see it's not true," Marcel said and then ordered a bottle of Patron. "But it must have been some engagement party. How is the happy couple?"
"Bubbly and brooding. Stefan and Caroline are fine, and I'll be sure to let them know you asked about them."
"Don't put yourself through any trouble for my sake," he demurred. Marcel slid a tad closer and the scent of his cologne tried to weasel its way up my nose and between my legs. "I heard another rumor," he stage whispered.
"This ought to be good," I deadpanned.
"The funniest I've heard yet," Marcel paused and did an exchange of cash for booze with the bartender. He opened the bottle, brought it under his nose to sniff, and then poured himself a liberal shot. He offered the bottle to me, I declined.
"The suspense is killing me, Marcel. What else have you heard?"
Marcel pulled his lips back from his teeth after taking the entire shot back to the head. He pierced me with those luscious jet eyes. "That there are witch hunters here in Seattle Lake."
A brow lifted and I polished off the rest of my drink.
"You have nothing to say about that?" he questioned almost incredulously.
"What do you expect me to say? If they're here they're obviously looking for witches," now it was my turn to stage whisper. "And they won't find one."
He snorted and shook his head. "Suddenly going to change species or something? Skip town? How will Bonnie Bennett throw some of the fiercest hunters off her scent?"
I tweaked the end of Marcel's nose. "Those are trade secrets I can't give away, but thanks for giving me a head's up. Most appreciated."
Marcel grabbed my hand. My gaze went to it, his flesh overlapping with mine noting the similarities in complexion and then slowly my eyes met with his. He swallowed thickly. His lids became hooded and drowsy, his jaw loose as if he were under the effects of a strong sedative.
I cleared my throat and Marcel snapped out of his haze.
"Sorry," he shook his head. "What was I saying? Right. This is serious, Bonnie. With all the shit going down I wouldn't be surprised if the WH haven't turned into mercs. You're a shark living in a fish bowl."
"Are you telling me to make myself small?"
"I'm telling you that they probably already know you're here. Too many people have been talking about what went down in Mystic Falls. Other than Rebekah and Damon who do you have watching your back? And last I checked, you and Damon ain't exactly on the best of terms."
I didn't laugh, didn't smile, didn't cry. My face remained perfectly neutral though I couldn't escape that pang which went clean through me. I didn't even have to ask Marcel where he may have heard that from because he's seen the evidence for himself.
Marcel studied me closely and carefully like you would if you were translating a document. He wasn't going to find whatever it was he may have been looking for. At least not through me, no siree.
He finally looked away after not finding what he had been after and poured another shot.
"You're not going to offer up some protection?" I slid my hand away from his.
"You don't even have to ask. If things get too dicey and you don't have anywhere to turn to, come to the club and use this," the debonair vampire reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and extracted a key card. He held it out to me and I took it between two fingers. "It opens up the back private door of the club."
"Thank you, Marcel. You really don't have to do this."
"I know I don't have to," he grinned in that charismatic way of his that made me feel like a young girl in love. "Our community is small and seems to shrink by the day. We need to look out for one another."
"That we do," I agreed and then spotted the woman I was supposed to hand over some very important documents to. "Scram. I have to go into business mode now. My date is here."
Marcel let out a chuckle, collected his spoils, and bounced. Bobbi nearly turned in a full circle just to watch him saunter by.
"Who was that?" she mouthed as she occupied the space Marcel had vacated.
I shrugged a shoulder and downplayed Mr. Gerard's significance, and kept my eyes averted. "Just an old acquaintance."
"Single?"
"Last I checked…very."
"Does he date slightly older women?" Bobbi fluffed up a portion of her hair that was graying at the temples.
I fought valiantly not to smile. Someone call animal control because there was a cougar on the loose. "Trust me when I say…the older the better for Marcel."
Bobbi fell into deep contemplation and then snapped out of it once she remembered the real reason she was here. "Sorry, I'm running so late. Do you want to grab some dinner? It's my treat."
"No, I can't stay. I have another engagement I need to get to."
"Oh, yes, very well. Let me look things over to make sure all is in order."
I handed the dossier over to Bobbi and counted down the minutes until I could walk out the front door.
You know how most people lie about having something else to do to weasel their way out of a social engagement of someone they rather not be bothered with? Well, for once I had actually been telling the truth.
I had an engagement all right with a chilled bottle of chardonnay and maybe some Godiva chocolates. Rotating my neck back and forth on my shoulders and giving myself a half-hearted massage, I waited for the steel plated doors of the elevator to swish open, and then I was welcomed into a private haven.
Dropping my purse and keys on the kitchen counter, I strolled through the living room and over to the bar area and smiled.
Picking up the fresh bottle of my favorite wine, I examined the year. I hadn't even been alone for five seconds before a hand slipped between my ribs and arm and plucked the bottle from my hands.
"That's for later."
"Oh. What's for now?"
I didn't need to see his smile to know it was there. The air around us became positively charged…for once.
"We talk," he answered my query and then moved exactly one pace until he stood beside me.
I craned my neck to stare up at him. As soon as my answering smile began to form, it slightly faded because a sharp pain cut through me right at the base of my cerebellum. I cleared my throat.
"You all right?"
Nodding, I held my arms out. "I could use a hug...Damon."
He placed the bottle back on the granite countertop and wrapped me up in his arms. I sighed happily and rubbed small circles on his back. "I missed you today. Am I allowed to tell you that?"
His hand made contact with my ass and he whacked it. I jumped. "We're starting over…maybe…"
"As friends."
"Right, so it had better be me that you missed."
My gaze shifted over to the mirror hanging from the wall and I watched the two of us.
He had given her such a hard time in Nova Scotia—not to say Bonnie didn't deserve it. She could be impossibly difficult; however, all of that was going to change because I'm in control now. She really should have left well enough alone. You open one door, better be prepared to face what stood behind it. She wasn't getting back out and the means to make sure Bonnie stayed locked up tight, well, that dangled right from my wrist.
Silly rabbit, tricks are for evil spirits.
Chapter end.
A/N: I won't go into specifics about anything, but I will say I do plan to go back and show how Bonnie and Damon came to an agreement about starting over. Some of you probably want to kill me and it's a good thing you don't know where I live, lol. I hope you've submitted questions for SDCC. We need Bamon to be in everyone's mouths this year because I for one am tired of DE and its shippers hogging the spotlight. Anyways, enjoy your weekend. Let me know what you think and remember I love y'all.