C. Omololu - Intuition

“Is obviously that you were attacked by a bear.” He grabs my hand. “In fact, these hands are sissy soft. I’ll bet you’ve never even been camping in your life.”

“Not true! I’ve camped plenty. And for your information, I was attacked once. It was by a baby deer on the way from our tent to the bathroom, but still.”

“Car camping doesn’t count,” Griffon says, pulling me down to him. “We should go backpacking sometime. Just the two of us in a tiny tent in the big mountains.”

“Ooh. Sign me up.” I settle in next to him, pushing myself against the length of his body until he rolls onto his side and puts his arms around me from behind. I watch the fire dance in front of us, feeling the warmth from its heat on my face and the warmth from Griffon’s breath on the back of my neck.

“Did you bring the marshmallows?” I ask, turning my head toward him.

Griffon laughs. “I knew there was something I forgot. You should never go to a posh party in the Marina without a bag of marshmallows.”

I roll over so that I’m facing him, wrapping one leg around his. Reaching up, I ease my fingers through his curls and then trace the side of his face. “If I was Kat, I’d make you go get some.”

Griffon pulls back and smiles. “If you were Kat, I’d make Owen do it.” A serious look passes across his face. “But I’d do it for you. I’d go and get you anything you want. Even marshmallows.” He pushes a strand of hair away from my face and leans down to kiss me, his lips soft but urgent, and I can feel the desire in his touch. The vibrations that always exist whenever we’re together become insistent and almost visible in the small space between us. I run my hands up the inside of his shirt, feeling the muscles of his back contract and goose bumps form as I touch his skin. He keeps his hands outside of my clothes like he usually does, feeling the contours of my body through my jeans as he runs his fingers down my thigh. I inch toward him, closing off any remaining space between our bodies.

My fingers slide down where his jeans meet his skin and he moans softly, pressing against me with even more urgency, his hand firmly on the back of my neck. I can feel his hesitation and silently urge him to keep going, to not stop at that invisible line we’ve respected all of these weeks.

I sense the moment it changes, and reach up to pull him to me even harder, but Griffon’s breathing heavily and pushing himself away from me on the lounger.

“We need to stop,” he says, and I can hear the effort it costs him to force the words out.

I reach for him again, wanting the connection I felt just a few seconds ago. With everything we’ve been through together, I’m not a kid anymore. “No we don’t. There’s nobody else here. Just us. I want to show you how I feel.”

Griffon hesitates, and I can see the emotions playing on his face. He squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head. “I know how you feel. You don’t have to prove it to me.”

“I know I don’t have to,” I say softly. “I want to.”

He bites his lip as his eyes search mine, looking for the truth in my words.

With centuries of experience behind him, sometimes he seems like an adult—but sometimes he’s every inch a seventeen-year-old boy. I run my hands up his shirt, smiling when I see him flinch. “Why are you hesitating? It’s not your first time.”

Griffon looks at me seriously. “It’s my first time with you.”

I watch his face in the flickering orange light, wanting to lock this one moment in time so that I can go back to it over and over again. I wonder if it will be different when I remember my other first times. If it will make it any less special. “It doesn’t matter whether we’re in some fancy hotel room or right here under the stars. I want to be with you.”

Without saying anything, he bends down and buries his face in my neck, tenderly kissing the curve behind my ear. The air around us seems to have changed, taken on a weight of expectation, and I feel a thrill of anticipation and fear run through me.

I’m so focused on his touch that I don’t hear the voices on the stairs until they’re almost to the rooftop. Griffon must hear them at the same time because he jumps back from me, and the two of us frantically adjust our clothes as Kat and Owen appear at the top of the stairs.

“I knew it!” Owen shouts, and I can hear the pride in his voice.

“Oh. My. God.” It doesn’t take a genius to recognize Kat’s angry voice. “I told you not to embarrass me!”

I struggle to sit up, my heart still pounding at what almost happened. “Which is why we’re up here alone and not making out in the middle of the living room.”

“Right,” she snaps. “Like everyone in the place couldn’t look at the two of you and know what you’ve been up to.”

Griffon glances at me with a smile, and I can’t help laughing. “So what are you doing up here, then?” I ask. “Just coming up to check out the view?”

Kat looks at Owen, and even in this light I can see her face get red. “As a matter of fact, we were.”

“Which is exactly what we were doing.” Griffon points to the other lounge chair. “Have a seat. It’s not so cold with the fire going. I’m going to go get us a couple more drinks.”

I watch Kat and Owen settle into the chair, thinking about how much I don’t want to spend the whole evening watching them make out. I want to go back to the place Griffon and I were just now. “I’ll go,” I say. “Besides, I want to check on Rayne. I didn’t tell her we were up here.” I slide off the chair before Griffon can object and grab the glasses. Bending over to give him a quick kiss, I whisper, “Be right back.”

I know I’m grinning as I open the door at the bottom of the stairs, but I can’t help it. As frustrated as I am at getting interrupted, it felt so right. I lift my sleeve up to my nose just to get the faint traces of his scent, to nudge the last ribbons of memory of what we almost did. Of what we’re still going to do. Soon.

I’m not paying attention to anyone as I walk down the hall toward the living room, just thinking about Griffon up on the roof and how much I want to get back there with him. Which is why I’m caught totally off guard when I hear a shout coming from the crowd in the kitchen.

“Cole! Wait!”

I stop and glance through the doorway, but the person who emerges from the crush of bodies is the last one I expect to see at this party. I’m so stunned to see him again that I can barely get his name past my lips.

“Drew.”

“I heard you were here,” Drew says in his thick Australian accent, glancing behind him as he follows me into the hallway. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I thought you were gone,” I say, taking a step back from him. Even though I know I can’t avoid him forever, I didn’t think I’d be face-to-face with him so soon. My hand goes automatically to the ankh around my neck, and Drew’s eyes follow. He reaches out to touch its silver curves, but I shrink back from his hand, which seems to snap him back to reality—the reality where we barely know each other.

“You didn’t call,” he says. He takes a step toward me, and I can feel the faint but insistent vibrations between us. “I was hoping you would.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, staring at the hardwood floors to avoid the intensity of his blue eyes as he looks at me. With his short blond hair, he’s not my type at all, but I can’t deny that he’s very good-looking, and it’s a little intimidating. As far as I’m concerned, Drew’s just a jewelry designer who is practically engaged to Kat’s boss. And also happens to be Akhet.

Drew takes a step back, and I can feel the intensity of his energy ease, as if he’s consciously forcing himself to slow down. “Is that how we’re going to play this?” He nods slowly, but I know it’s not with approval. “I thought you’d be glad to see me after so long. All things considered.”

I glance behind him, half expecting Francesca to step into the hallway any minute, but only one fairly drunk guy weaves past us, not paying any attention. I look Drew straight in the eyes, hoping that I can stop this conversation before it goes too far. If we don’t acknowledge it, then I can keep it from being true. “I barely know you. I met you twice in the shop, and you like my necklace. I don’t know what else you think is going on here, but that’s all we are to each other.” I hear the words and close my eyes, willing myself to believe them. That’s all we are to each other. I can’t let myself think about any other possibility.

Drew stands so close I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. “You and I both know that isn’t true. You know exactly who I am to you. Who I’ve been to you. I can tell that you remember.”

“You’re wrong,” I say, looking past him. Not daring to look right at him for fear of what I might see there. “I don’t remember.” I inhale, trying to make myself believe those words. “I don’t remember anything.”

“Why would you say that?” Drew asks, and something in his voice makes me meet his eyes. I’m surprised to find a glimmer of hurt behind them. His voice trembles as he continues. “It’s taken centuries to find you again, and I thought you’d be as thrilled as I am to finally be together in the same place, in the same lifetime.”

I think of Griffon upstairs on the roof and want nothing more than to be back there. No answer I can give will satisfy Drew, so I turn to run back to the stairs, back to Griffon so that I can make this all disappear.

But Drew’s reflexes are quicker than mine. He reaches out and grabs my arm as I turn, and it feels as if a strong current of electricity is connecting the two of us. Drew is a more powerful Akhet than I’d imagined. I can feel his hands catching me as my knees buckle from the impact of the jolt and the memory that starts crashing all around me.

The ground beneath us trembles from the pounding of the horses’ hooves. I look up at Connor, fear crawling over my skin even as I try to deny what is coming.

“We must run,” I say, throwing myself into his arms. Panic rises through my body. “We have to go.” I turn to pull him down the long stone hallway, but he stands fast. “They’ll find us here!”

“My dear Allison, there is nowhere left to hide,” he says quietly, with more comportment than I thought possible at such a moment. His calm control of any situation is one of the things that drew me to him, but right now I want to beat on his chest and spur him into action. What little time we have left is fleeting, certainly he must see that? “They have the grounds surrounded, I’m sure of it,” he continues, lifting my face with his strong hand. “We have no options left. To fight them now will only put us both in danger. I will not risk your life as well.”

There is a distant pounding at the main door, although I know the servants have long since gone to the country. “We can’t just surrender into their hands!” I cry, frustration at the situation spilling over until I can no longer stop the hot tears from flowing.

Connor reaches around and frees the pendant from my neck, then slips the ruby earrings from my ears. Folding them into my palm, he whispers, “With these jewels and the others in your chambers you shall have means to get away. Keep them hidden, whatever you do.”

He bends to kiss me, and for one brief moment it is as if we are the only two people left on Earth. I cling to him desperately, wanting to remember what may well be our last moments together. His lips press against mine, the intensity of his emotions matching the beat of my heart and the heat from our bodies causing the silver in my hand to warm. I feel our connection growing stronger even as our time together grows shorter.

I barely register the noise in the hallway as the soldiers gain entry. It is only when Connor is ripped from my arms that the reality of the moment catches hold and I start to scream. “Connor! No! Make them stop! You can’t leave me!” I fall to my knees before the tallest soldier as his compatriots hold my husband roughly by the arms. “I beg of you, sir. You are making a grave mistake!”

I smell the leather of his spotless black boots as the man towers above me, a thick piece of parchment in his hands. “Connor Wyatt,” he proclaims. “You are to be remanded to the custody of His Majesty’s representatives to be tried for treason against the crown.”

The soldiers shout as they wrestle Connor down the hallway, although he is putting up very little protest. The tall one brushes me aside as if I am nothing but a speck of manure on his boot as he turns to follow the others toward the door.