Chapter 7 _Asher
Chapter Seven
ASHER
The sound of birdsong woke me. I cracked my eyes open with a groan. “Maeve , you forgot to close the window—”
As I took in my surroundings, my words stopped short, and I scrambled to an upright position.
This was not my room. And this was definitely not my bed. It was way too big and way too comfy.
Sleek, modern furniture filled the space. A pewter gray chaise lounge sat beneath the window, while the walls on either side were made up entirely of bookshelves stuffed to the gills with leather-bound tomes.
I lifted a hand to my aching head, feeling like I’d consumed an entire case of my grandfather’s moonshine, but the last thing I remembered was passing out in bed after getting back from my session with Jericho. So what the hell happened? How had I ended up here? I groaned, trying to put together the pieces of the night before when the dream came back to me.
‘Unlock your power . . . Embrace what makes you feel strong . . . They’re coming for you . . . They will kill you if given the chance.’
My mind twisted as it tried to make sense of my mother’s cryptic warnings, but then a sudden, much more terrifying thought gripped me.
What if ‘they’ already found me? What if they were still here?
I let out a soft gasp, my gaze immediately dropping and relief crashing through me when I saw I was still wearing the nightgown I’d pulled on the night before, and I didn’t seem to have any fresh injuries or bindings. Nothing to indicate I’d been harmed in any way or that I was being kept against my will. Then I held my breath, willing myself not to make a peep as I listened hard for the sound of somebody else moving around. After several racing heartbeats, I finally relaxed, breathing normally and allowing some of the tension in my shoulders to seep away. I was alone, but who knew for how long.
Okay. We can work with this. Maybe things aren’t quite as fucked as they seem. So what if you woke up in a stranger’s bed? These things happen, right? It’s so common they’d named it. So let’s just walk our ass on out of here.
Pep talk finished, I kicked my legs over the edge of the king-size bed, intent on doing just that. One of the silky black sheets was wrapped around my thigh, and I had to untangle myself before I was free. The act brought a fresh wave of bergamot to my nose. Citrus mingled with spice and dredged up an image of warm, amber eyes.
Instead of frightening me, the memory of them soothed me. Made me feel safe, protected even. But that was absurd, right? Because I’d definitely fallen asleep in my own bed last night and couldn’t recall a single thing between then and now. Which meant I’d ended up in this bed without my consent and whoever brought me here was the furthest thing from a protector.
Right. Time to go.
I scrambled toward the door, heart racing in my throat as I half expected it to fly open before I reached it. Or worse, find it barred from the outside. But no, it was unlocked. I could have wept, so great was my relief as I flung the door open without issue, spotting an elevator just a few feet away. I ran toward it, my finger jamming the button several times as I cast my eyes around the little waiting area.
It was decorated in the same style as the rest of Hawke Hall, answering one of my many questions at least. I was still on campus. Still in my dorm. Just on a different floor, it seemed.
“Come on, come on,” I urged, slamming my finger into the button again, only to stop and peer closer. It wasn’t a button in the usual sense. It was some kind of scanner. Likely coded to whoever lived up here.
Fuck.
I spun around, looking for some other means of escape. But there wasn’t one. The only two doors on this floor were the one behind me that would lead me back into the sprawling room and those that led to the elevator I couldn’t seem to access.
Fuck!
Just as my panic really started to climb, there was a soft, electronic chime and the elevator doors peeled open. My heart slammed in my chest as they revealed the man within.
Tall, pale, dangerous, with thick wavy black hair and disarming eyes the color of molten amber. He took my breath away in that this-guy-is-bad-news-guard-your-virtue kind of way. I couldn’t tear my gaze from him, needing to inspect him and make sure he was real.
Full lips? Check.
Penetrating stare? Check.
Chiseled jawline? Check.
Vampire, able to kill me with the flick of his wrist? Check.
He stepped out, making no move to walk around me, just crowding my personal space until I was forced to step back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was smooth and skin-tingling, like he was whispering dirty nothings into my ear when all he’d done was ask a question. I blamed the British accent.
“Better question, asshole, is who the hell are you?”
“Jackson .” He extended an index finger to point to the door I’d left wide open in my harried escape. “The man whose bed you slept in.”
“Ha, that’s cute. Because I was in my bed when I went to sleep last night. Which makes you a creepy psycho kidnapper. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go report you and then shower for about ten years to get the scent of you off me.”
“Why don’t we just go back inside—”
“Absolutely not. If you don’t let me into that elevator right now, I am going to scream.”
He seemed to read something in my face because he took a few backward steps into the elevator and gestured for me to join him.
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, not trusting him, and yet unable to deny he didn’t seem to be making any threatening advances. The knowledge gave me courage as I stepped inside and pressed the button marked ‘3.’
“So, Jackson , do you make a habit out of kidnapping women from their beds?”
“No.” He said it so simply, and just that one word annoyed the living hell out of me.
“Ah, I see. I was your first. Looks like you’re not a very good serial killer then. You should probably give it up.”
His lips turned up in a slight smirk. “You weren’t.”
“Wasn’t what?”
“In your bed. I found you in the forest and brought you back here since I didn’t know where you belonged.”
His words caused my stomach to clench painfully. The forest? What the hell happened last night?
“And I’m just supposed to believe you swooped in like some sort of gallant knight and didn’t lay a finger on me? Yeah, right. I was in your bed.”
His eyes flashed, and he took two steps forward, closing the space between us and crowding me until I had no choice but to press up against the corner of the elevator. Was this the slowest lift in the entire world? I needed space, for the doors to open, for something to give. If only so I could breathe and stop toying with my kidnapper.
No part of us was touching, but I could feel him everywhere, my traitorous body responding to his magnetic pull. The air between us crackled with energy as he lowered his head until his lips hovered just above mine.
“Trust me, Flower. Had I touched you last night, you’d not only remember it, you’d be begging me for an encore.”
My mouth went dry, and it took me a second to recover from the undeniably sexy images he’d summoned in my mind. I managed to shove the images away, crossing my arms to force some space between us—even though the move only brought us into direct contact as my arm brushed along his chest.
“I’m just supposed to take your word for it, am I?”
“I can prove it if you’d like?”
My breath caught as he reached out and skimmed his knuckles down my cheek and then further, along the side of my throat. I finally knocked his hand away when it had drifted down to my collarbone—though I had the feeling the only reason his hand actually stopped its pursuit was because he allowed me to stop it.
“I’ll pass, thanks.”
He shrugged and stepped back. “Suit yourself.”
Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I asked, “So you were a perfect gentleman?”
He threw me a cocky smirk. “I never said that.”
The chime of the elevator reaching my floor saved me before I could say anything further. As the doors slid open, I tossed him a final fleeting look over my shoulder. “Well, thanks for coming to my rescue, I guess, Jackson .”
His eyes flared again, the side of his mouth lifting in a slow, sexy smile. “My pleasure, Asher.”