She shivered and wound her fingers through his short hair. “It’s important,” she said, though for the life of her, when his teeth grazed her breast, she wasn’t sure she remembered why.
He stopped, and she made a soft sound of disappointment. Garrit chuckled. “You said it was important.”
“I didn’t mean it.” She tried to pull him back, but he lifted his head and lay down on the bed instead, leaning on one elbow to face her, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“
She felt her cheeks flush. “It’s about the man downstairs. The friend of your father’s?”
He frowned, the humor fading. “Our security man. What do they call them in England? Bouncers?”
“That’s American. In England we call them door supervisors.”
“Ah.” He smiled, but it seemed forced. “Door supervisor, then. What else would you like to know?”
She bit her lip, but she had to know. Needed the reassurance that she wasn’t losing her mind again. “What’s his name?”
“Owen,” he said. “
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Oh.”
“Why do you ask?”
She shook her head. “I thought I recognized him from somewhere, but it must have been someone else.”
When Thorgrim had come back to her, in the ward, when she had imagined him, he had called himself Donner. Not Owen. Though, that name reminded her of something else. Maybe the resemblance had less to do with seeing ghosts, and more to do with genetics. She had given Thorgrim a son, once, a very long time ago, and if the DeLeons could keep the resemblance to their forefathers, Thorgrim’s line could have done so as well.
“Mm.” Garrit grunted, rolling off the other side of the bed. “Another glass of water for you, I think, and then we should both get some sleep. Tomorrow will be busy.”
She felt herself relax, staring at the ceiling while she waited for Garrit to return with her glass. She didn’t have to be insane. The man could just be some family of Thorgrim’s, three thousand years removed. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? The realization was a balm, and she felt her mind drift away from any other possibility, secure in this one.
When Garrit came back to the bed, she kissed him, curling up against his side. He was warm, and she trailed her fingers through the hair on his chest. “Thank you.”
He kissed her forehead. “Next time, remind me to ignore you when you say it’s important.”
She smiled, resting her head against his shoulder. “Only if we’re in bed.”
Chapter Eleven: Creation
Reu caught her by the arm before she made it into the trees. “Eve? Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
“Let me go.” She pulled away from him. “Please. Let me go.”
His hand dropped. “Of course. Forgive me.”
She darted into the trees, glancing back to be sure Adam wasn’t watching.
But Reu followed. “What did he do?”
“I don’t know.”
The moment raced through her mind, and she doubled over as her stomach heaved. Her meal burned the back of her throat and she swallowed convulsively. Reu caught her before she fell, supporting her against his body. She tried to steady herself, her thoughts, her stomach.
“He covered my mouth with his.” She pressed her hand against her belly, willing it to calm. She felt as though she could still feel the heat of Adam’s hands on her body. “And then he threw me from him.”
Reu’s grip tightened. “Did you want him to touch you, Eve? Did he give you a choice?”
She shook her head. The warmth was gone from his eyes, and now they just looked black with anger.
“Are you hurt? Did he do anything more than kiss you?”
“No.” She wiped her mouth, and closed her eyes. The image of their bodies moving together swam before her, along with the flare of… of something she didn’t understand, warming her belly, and spreading lower. “No. But he meant to.”
“You stopped him?”
She shook her head again. “I tried to, but he was too strong. I couldn’t push him away. He sent me to bathe.”
Reu rubbed his face with both hands. “I have to stop this. I have to stop him.”
“He’ll hurt you.” Then the words came back to her. Adam’s thoughts about how they should be grateful. “Cast you out. I don’t understand what that is. Out of where?”
“The Garden. Into the barren lands outside to starve.” Reu’s face was dark again, and he looked back the way they had come. The caves weren’t visible through the trees, but she was sure that was what he was trying to see. “When did he say that?”
“After the meal. I told him the women were kind to me. He thought they should be grateful he let them live at all. That he might cast them out anyway.”
“He said all this to you?”
She leaned against a tree, her stomach still twisted. “When he touches me, I hear more than he speaks aloud.”
Reu murmured a word she had never heard and took her by the arm again, though gently, pulling her deeper into the trees. Leaves pawed at her, bushes grasping at her arms and legs. It wasn’t until they had traveled some distance that he stopped, sweeping back the drooping branches of a willow tree.
“We should be safe here.” He guided her inside. The sun filtered through the branches, turning everything green. “Please. Explain to me what you mean.”
She blinked. Reu had seemed so wise. But Adam had told her she was different. Was this how? “You don’t understand?”
He almost smiled. “I’m not all-knowing. None of us are. Can you explain?”
She sank down to the ground, her legs unsteady. All she wanted was to curl up somewhere safe. To hide in the shadow, in the dark, in the void. There was no comfort in this world. She rubbed her cheek, thinking of Adam’s rejection. Dirt and sand had saved her. That was something. She dug her fingers into the dirt and leaves. It was cool and soft and damp, clinging to her skin.
“When he touches me, it’s like there’s another person in my head. I hear so much more, feel so much more. It’s uncomfortable. Overwhelming.”
Reu’s voice was very soft. “Does he know?”
She looked up. “What?”
He was studying her, his eyes gentle again, but still dark. All the anger had left his face. “Have you told this to Adam? Does he know?”
“No.” She dug her fingers deeper into the soil. “I haven’t said anything. I thought he knew. That it was the same for everyone else.”
He crouched in front of her. “That’s why you don’t like to be touched, isn’t it? Why you keep pulling away from him.” He held his hand out to her, palm up and waited.
She shook her head. “It isn’t the same.”
“But you feel something?” He closed his hand.
“Feelings, sometimes. Emotions.” She lifted her gaze to his face. “Is there something wrong with me, Reu?”
He laughed. It was short and sharp and nothing at all like Adam. “You’re supposed to be the most perfect of us all, Eve. If you can do this, feel these things, it isn’t because there’s something wrong with you.”
“But you don’t hear or feel anything.”
“No.” He frowned, looking away, his face darkening again. “If Adam could hear us, surely he would have
