**** Chapter Three: VOLTTUS

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Chapter Three: VOLTTUS

For a few minutes I stood glued in one spot, trying my best to understand. I couldn’t be in Volttus. That wasn’t even a real place. I mean I’d never heard of it. And even if there was such a place how could I get to it in a flash?

The red pearl! Azure had said –

I was more inclined to believing I was hallucinating. But why did the floor feel so real and the cool night breeze so fragrant? This was a real room and I was in it.

I walked up to the massive poster bed placed against a wide scarlet wall that made the dark wood of the bed more prominent and pleasing. The bed was untouched, neat with crisp white sheets. From there I sauntered off through an open French window and onto a terrace with stone tiles and sleepy blue lights and then back inside. On my way in, I found a small nook within the huge room that was decorated as a reading area with lots of books and tables.

Adjacent to the reading lounge, I saw a slatted door made of dark expensive wood. I opened it. Ah! A closet! And the biggest one I’d ever seen too. Very neat with menswear everywhere – mostly black. Fine cotton shirts, well-tailored suits, jackets and trousers, smart long coats, expensive denim, and racks and racks of shoes. A speck of white here and there. Well, whoever he was, he had impeccable taste.

And then it occurred to me. Had I passed out in the nook with Nancy? Could Roy have had me transported to his room? It only made more sense when I looked at all the black clothing in his closet. No wonder he went gaga over the Goth Aoife. In that case, I had better quit snooping around and get the hell out of his room.

But how could have Nancy stooped so low? She’d do anything but sell me off, but I mean – this wasn’t a movie! Maybe I had been kidnapped. In any case, I needed to escape.

At the far end of the walk-in was another door, presumably the bathroom. I didn’t open it and traced back my steps to the exit when something glinting in the soft light caught my eye. It was a beautiful black dagger with a tiny gold emblem on its hilt placed neatly on one of the many dressers. I couldn’t resist picking it up. The blade seemed to be made of some sort of black steel. Looked very sharp. The hilt was shiny and black with a small claw like emblem in gold on it. If I took it, would he mind?

I laughed at myself. I didn't know why I had this strange fascination with lethal weapons. Daddy had kept none in the house – ever – not even a gun. He didn't even go hunting. And Nancy didn’t need guns. She could do more damage with her six inch heels! So it must be something peculiar to me – or perhaps – Mom. Anyway, if the guy came in and tried to attack me this knife ought to be enough to scare him away. I gripped the hilt tightly and raised the blade as if to stab someone – like in the movies.

“Can I help you?” A deep voice surprised the remaining wits out of me.

I spun in its direction, pointing the dagger at the speaker. He was standing at the entrance of the room, clad in dark blue denim and a white shirt. The dim light mostly obscured his facial features but I could tell he was young, tall, good frame, and most importantly, not Roy.

“I’m looking for the owner of this room,” I said breathlessly, dagger still in hand and still pointed at him.

“To kill him?” He sauntered inside and plopped into one of the chairs by the bed, not very far from where I stood.

For a moment I thought I was actually dreaming for no real person could be so insanely handsome. He had dark hair and a firm jaw line. His eyes, when he looked up at me from where he sat, were a shimmering shade of aqua just so inviting for a dive.

And he spoke with a strong accent. Persian? Belgian? Not sure what exactly.

“Depends on how he behaves.” I waved the knife at him weakly. If this was the Roy’s henchman sent to keep an eye on me while we waited for him, I had no complains.

“Well, how do you like it so far?” he asked.

His eyes remained fixed on my face for a second. Then he looked away and got busy with unbuttoning his sleeve cuffs. First one, then the other.

“This your room?” I followed his every move.

He stood up; didn’t answer my question. His demeanor was very relaxed. There was a – how shall I say – regal air about him. And although it seemed as if he was in the process of stripping, I couldn’t say whether that mesmerized me more than it made me anxious.

“Who are you? And why are you taking your clothes off?” I was a little nervous now that he was unbuttoning his shirt.

He stopped and eyed me again, from top to bottom like I was some sort of a specimen on display for his approval.

“Put the dagger down. We’re not going to war.” “This is to protect me.” I waved it at him again. “From what?” A little confused frown crossed his face.

“From you.”

His expression changed suddenly from frowning and being bored to being amused.

“Use your own dagger then, not mine.” He chuckled.

“I don't have one.” Not good, Aoife, not good!

“You poor girl! They sent you here without anything to defend yourself with?”

“Who sent me where? Who are you?” My patience was wearing thin. Actually, that’s not true, it was fear. Something about this mysterious man sent strong warning signals running up and down my entire body. I could actually feel a shooting sting in my leg, where my birthmark happened to be.

He didn't answer and moved closer to me. My dagger didn't seem to scare him but his presence was certainly freaking me out. His eyes were fixed on mine and it seemed as if I was losing sense of where I was. They were so deep, like two pools of serenity. I felt elated just by looking into them as if I had plunged off a high cliff and was now floating on air.

He held out his hand and took the dagger from me. I quietly yielded. As if I had no will of my own. He tossed the dagger aside and then held me by my waist. I felt intoxicated by his touch. He was so warm. I could almost sense invisible sparks of fire as he ran an idle hand over my cheek.

“You are so untainted.” He looked curious.

His voice brought back a little sanity to my melting mind and I was able to look at him without feeling dizzy. I blinked, tore away from his gaze and glanced down. His chest was peeking out from behind the white unbuttoned shirt. I was fixated again. But his toned body wasn’t what caught my attention. It was a small mark on his skin, the size of a pea and in the shape of a claw – the same claw that was embossed on the dagger. It seemed as if his skin had been charred to make the mark, as if he had been branded.

Unwittingly, I touched it.

He grabbed my hand and jerked it away. As I looked back at his face I met the most chilling pair of eyes I’d ever seen. They were the color of blue ice, frozen and empty as if devoid of a soul.

I was terrified.

I tried to push him away.

“Let me go!” I tried to scream but only a whisper came out. “What do you want?” “What do you want?” His voice was deep and soothing.

I stared at him. The chill of his eyes had melted to reveal a warm glow that took my breath away. I leaned in against him and closed my eyes. My head spun as he drew me closer. I could feel his sweet breath on my face as I waited hungrily for a kiss. But just when his lips brushed against mine a sharp sting burnt through my thigh – again. Right where my crescent was!

It seemed as if the pain brought me back from a trance and I gasped like a drowning person breaking through thick water. Something was happening to me. And what in the world was up with my birthmark?

Suddenly, all that gibberish Azure had thrown at me swam back to me.

When he tightened his grip around my waist I felt feverish, so eager to give in. The only resistance was my hurting thigh; as painful and as real as the burn of hot coals.

I twitched and slipped a hand to the back of his head.

I had to do it. I had to pluck a strand of his hair. As he moved his mouth closer to mine, I closed my eyes and pulled, felt a strand snap. His head went back with a jerk as my thigh seemed to catch fire.

“Please – don't!” was all I could get out before the seething pain in my leg shut out all my senses.