Tags:
Fantasy,
Urban Fantasy,
Paranormal,
paranormal romance,
Twilight,
Fairies,
dark fantasy,
Vampires,
Werewolves,
PNR,
fairy,
Faerie,
unicorns,
sirens
only waist-height, and no waves made
it in.
Octavius hauled himself
onto a rock smoothly, sitting up, and I tried not to look at his
nakedness.
“ Isn’t this beautiful?” he
asked.
I stared fixedly at the
moon. “Yeah. Really, really beautiful.”
He began to sing. If
anything, he was singing even more beautifully than he had in front
of his band—his voice was the ocean, and the beach, and the wind
through the rocks.
It took me a minute to
realize just what he was singing. “ The only color in my
bleak existence is the red leeching from my arm. My soul is
so charred it frays, burning in the flame of my
discontent .” He shot me a look over his shoulder.
“ Why? Why can’t I cry? ”
I found myself moving
closer to his rock, drawn inexorably toward Octavius. It
didn’t even occur to me to wonder how he could know that poem when
it had never left my bookshelf at home.
The only thing I knew was
his song, his voice, and that I wanted to be with him very, very
badly.
He dropped off the rock and
took me by the shoulders, pushing me against the boulder.
Octavius towered over me, and his tongue darted out to lick his
lips. “I think I asked you if you believed in love at first
sight,” he said.
I couldn’t find the words
to respond. All I could manage was a nod.
Octavius bent and brushed
his lips against mine. A gentle touch, nothing more.
And then I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around his neck, and I
kissed him back.
In that moment, my life was
perfect. I wanted nothing more than the soft brush of
Octavius’s lips, and the feel of his fingers caressing the side of
my face. I loved the crush of his body against mine. I
loved his smell, his taste.
But it wouldn’t last
long.
Distantly, someone screamed
the scream of lost hopes.
Chapter
Thirteen
I awakened in a
bed.
With a start, I pushed into
a sitting position and looked around. The room was unfamiliar
at first, but my memory gradually returned, and I recognized the
nooks and crannies of my new Coos Bay room.
Groaning, I sank into the
covers. My mom must have set up my bed while I was at school
the day before. But what about last night? Had all the
adventures with Octavius been a dream?
I caught the scent of my
hair. It smelled of sea salt.
What happened? I
remember Octavius, and the beach, and... nothing.
I must have fainted.
It was the only explanation. Everything was so beautiful and
perfect that I had passed out, and Octavius was kind enough to
bring me home. After all, I only felt a little sore from
fighting the surf and a headache, probably from the
fainting.
Carefully, I dressed in the
bathroom, and I headed down to breakfast. I had no idea what
I would find, but my growling stomach drove me onward. Not
that I'd need much – a piece of toast was probably enough to keep
me the rest of the day – but I'd have to face the music eventually,
and better now than at a time I could be with Octavius.
My mom was the only one at
the dining room table.
“ Hi, sweetie,” she said
through a mouthful of egg. “Dad's going to be working for the
next few days, so he won't be around much.”
That happened quite a lot,
but even so, I was suspicious. Maybe it was just me, but the
timing seemed...off. Either way, I needed food, so I slipped
into my seat and started to fill my plate with the offerings from
the middle of the table.
Mom squinted at me.
“You're not looking so good.”
“ I didn't sleep much last
night,” I grunted.
She reached her hand across
to touch my forehead, and she clucked disapprovingly. “You're
burning up.”
“ I'm fine .”
But she was already up
getting her thermometer. I knew I was fighting a lost cause –
if Mom decided I was sick, I was sick – but it made me feel two
years old. Ugh. Couldn't I choose if I wanted to go to
school?
Sure enough, my mom stuck
the thermometer in my ear, and the number on the display read over
100.