'Bound we shall be,' he continued, 'from this moon to another, then set free.'
Her blood whirled inside her veins as a strange, dark and oddly compelling essence invaded her. Dark, so dark. Scattered thoughts flashed through her, motionless images in black-and-white-images of a child's terror, hurt, and search for a love never found. Images of desolation and an ultimate withdrawal from emotion.
The child was Darius.
She was poised on the periphery of a vision, gazing down at a bloody massacre. Men, women and children were lying motionless in pools of their own blood. The boy-Darius-knelt over one of the children. A little girl. Long black hair formed an inky river around her face and shoulders, blending with the blood dripping from her neck. She wore a sapphire-colored dress that was bunched around her waist. Her eyes were closed, but there was a promise of beauty in every line of her softly rounded features.
Gently Darius fitted the hem of the dress around her ankles, covering her exposed flesh. He remained kneeling and gazed up to the crystal dome. He slammed a fist into the dirt and howled, the sound more animal than human, more tortured than any child should ever have to endure.
Grace wanted to sob. She found herself reaching out, hoping to wrap the boy in her arms. But even as she moved, she was whisked back to reality. Darius still hovered above her.
'What did you do to me?' she cried.
He didn't answer right away. His eyes were closed, as if he were lost in a vision of his own. When he finally opened his eyelids, he said, 'I have bound us together.' He looked smug. 'For one day, you must remain in my presence. There will be no more escaping.'
'That isn't possible.'
'Isn't it? Can you not speak my language? Did I not travel here-Gracie Lacie?' he added softly.
She gasped. 'How do you know that name?'
'Your father called you that.'
'Yes, but how do you know?'
'I saw inside your mind,' he said simply. He pushed to his feet, and she scooted backward to the edge of the couch. 'Go to your room and dress,' he said. 'Wear something that covers you from neck to toe. We have much to discuss and not a lot of time.'
'I'm not moving.'
His gaze slitted. 'Then I will change you myself.'
With that threat ringing in her ears, Grace jumped up and scurried around him. When she reached her bedroom, she quickly shut and locked the door, then raced to the nearest window. She unlatched the fastener, raised the glass and attempted to throw one leg over.
An invisible wall stopped any movement outside.
Nearly screeching with frustration, she kicked and pounded at the wall but couldn't break past it. Finally, panting, she gave up. How dare Darius do this! she seethed. What had he said? A binding spell. How dare he cast a binding spell, locking her within his grasp.
A hard knock sounded at her door. 'You have five minutes to dress, and then I am coming in.'
He'd do it, too, she thought. Even if he had to kick in the door. Even if he had to take the apartment building apart brick by brick. With a humorless chuckle, she leaned against the ledge and rested her head on the wooden frame.
How had such a lost little boy grown into such an uncompromising man?
She didn't want to believe those flashes of his life were real, but he'd known her father's nickname for her. And she hadn't shared that information with anyone. Darius's childhood, those things she'd seen, had happened. She didn't like knowing he'd once had a family. She didn't like knowing about the pain he had endured at their deaths. Knowing made her long to comfort him, to protect him. To stay with him.
'I don't want to change while you're inside my house,' she called. 'I don't trust you.'
'That matters not. You will do as I have commanded.'
Or he'd do it for her , she mentally finished. Grace dragged her feet to her dresser and tore off her ripped tank. She quickly jerked on her largest, plainest turtle-neck sweater and a pair of plain gray sweatpants. He didn't want to see her skin, and she didn't want to show it to him. Glowering, she donned socks and tennis shoes-better to kick him with.
When she was completely dressed, she paused. What do I do now ? She would go out there, Grace decided, and she would be civilized. She would answer his questions honestly. Afterward, he would leave her, just as he'd found her. The boy he'd been would allow nothing less. She hoped. He'd certainly had the opportunity to hurt her: while she slept, while they kissed. A shiver of remembrance trickled through her, and she scowled. How could she still desire him?
Gathering her scattered wits, she unlocked the door and pulled it open. Darius towered a few feet away, his shoulder propped on the opposite wall. His expression was as cold and merciless as ever; his eyes could have been chipped from an Alaskan glacier.
'Much better,' he said, eyeing her clothing.
'Let's go into the living room,' she said. She didn't want a bed anywhere near them. Without waiting for his reply, she swept around him. She settled on the recliner-so he couldn't sit next to her-and said the first thing that popped into her mind. 'Are you going to eat me?'
'What?' he half growled, half gasped. He settled onto the couch, as far away from her as possible.
Was he just as leery of her as she was of him? The thought shouldn't have bothered her, but it did. She had done nothing, by word or deed, to earn his dislike.
'Your friends,' she said. 'They're cannibals and wanted to eat me.' She shuddered at the memory.
His lips curled in what could either have been amusement or fury. 'They will never do so. That I can promise you.' He schooled his features until they were as blank as a brand-new chalkboard. 'Where is the medallion, Grace?'
Confession time. 'I, uh, lost it.'
'What?' he roared, jolting to his feet.
'I lost it?' she offered more as a question than a statement.
He sank back into his seat and rubbed a hand down his face. 'Explain.'
'While I was inside the mist the second time, it ripped from my neck.' She shrugged. 'I tried to get it back, but failed.'
His gaze pierced her with its intensity. 'If you are saying this in an attempt to keep the medallion for yourself, I will-'
'Search my home if you want,' she interjected defensively.
He massaged his temple with two fingers and continued to stare over at her. Then he nodded as though he'd just come to a monumental decision. 'We are going to take a small trip, Grace.'
'I don't think so.'
'We're going to the cave. We will not stay long.'
Heat drained from her face and hands, leaving her cold and pale. Did he hope to send her back into Atlantis? To lock her up? To either kill/torture/molest her-okay, the last one appealed to her in a way it shouldn't have-in his own surroundings?
'Do not think to protest,' he said, as if reading her thoughts. 'I must go, therefore you must go. We are bound together.'
'Atlantis is-'
'Not where I'm taking you. I wish only to visit the cave.'
She relaxed, soothed by the ring of truth in his tone. Another trip to Brazil might actually be beneficial, she realized, remembering the postcard Alex had sent her. She could take his picture with her, something she hadn't had last time, and walk through town, asking people if they had seen him.
'If I go with you,' she said, purposefully omitting her change of desires, 'will you help me find my brother?'
'You do not know where he is?'
'No. And I've looked. His co-workers haven't seen him. He hasn't been home. He hasn't even called our mother, and he usually does. Someone sent me an e-mail supposedly from him, but I know it wasn't because I found a postcard Alex had written telling me he was in trouble.'
