The corridor was empty when she slipped outside, Kyra nowhere in sight. Eva was thankful, because while she didn’t want to be alone, she couldn’t face the expression in her friend’s face. Not right then, not without breaking down into another fit of sorrow. And crying wasn’t Eva’s deal, not like that. No, she wanted to dance it out, allow her movements to portray her deepest emotions.
Except there was no music left in her soul.
They had taken that too.
Finding the stairs she descended, moving silently on bare feet. She wasn’t sure where she was headed, unable to relax as she kept walking. She couldn’t sleep again, and she couldn’t sit still. She had all this energy, and nowhere to expel it.
She wondered if the wood would be warm against her feet as she found herself walking between the shadows, feeling herself pulled to the darkness.She had only ever played with the shadows, feeling them almost alive as they slithered across her arm when she reached into a darkened corner.
A pulse, deafening in her ears as hunger tightened her throat.
Eva pulled her arm from the shadows, an almost suction trying to pull her back before she hid the same arm behind her back, as if she had been caught doing something wrong.
“He’s downstairs.”
She looked up at the man who appeared in the doorframe, not needing him to confirm what he meant by‘he’s.’
“Blueberry muffins,” she said, remembering the man’s favourite treat, despite his hair being longer than before. He had a face not many people could forget, and she had baked for all of the Guardians who had helped protect Kyra. Everyone except Kace.
The man bowed gently. “Through that door is the garage. Take the lift down one floor.”
Eva hesitated, eyes cutting back to hers. “Thank you.”
“But be careful,” he continued. “Sometimes people can’t be fixed.”
“Who said he was broken?”
The man’s smile was sad, personal before he turned away, and she was alone once more in a house she wasn’t familiar with.
The garage was cold, not necessarily in temperature, but in atmosphere compared to the warmth of the house above. All shiny metal and white paint that showcased every car and motorbike parked. Eva gave herself a moment to just look across the impressive collection, cars she could only dream about driving parked only a foot away. She skimmed across them, from flashy sports cars and practical 4X4’s until she settled on her old car in the corner. It was partially hidden, gleaming as if freshly cleaned. She brushed her hand down the side as she passed, the tension in her muscles releasing just a little.
The lift arrived quickly, a slim metal construction that matched the garage with open walls. She watched the scarred concrete as she descended the single floor, the white and metal of the garage turning into pale tiles beneath her feet, the surrounding rooms pitch black. Eva swallowed the panic as her eyes adjusted to the dark. Someone was close, their heartbeat slow and steady unlike her own jagged rhythm. There were no comforts down there like there were in her borrowed bedroom. Everything was metal, which seemed to be a theme, with a few benches set up with powders and crystals. Something acidic tickled her nose, stronger the closer she stepped to the bench. Ignoring it she found an open doorway, Kace breathing evenly atop a thin mattress and pallet of blankets on the floor, one partially covering his hips. His face was relaxed with sleep, his face just as bruised as Xander’s.
Eva wasn’t sure what she was doing as she stepped inside. He hadn’t asked for her to be there, and she knew from experience how horrifying it was to have someone stand over you while you were vulnerable.
But she felt… safe. The weight on her chest had eased entirely with him so close, the hollow void not so obvious. So she allowed herself to stand there for a moment, for just a minute before she returned alone to the other room.
What’s wrong with me?she thought, closing her eyes for a second. Her life had been turned upside down, and now she was seeking comfort from the brooding guy who had saved her?
There’s a mental illness for that.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, swiping a hand down her face. She needed to leave, but her body wasn’t co-operating as she stood there in the darkness. She felt the shadows, a blanket that she could wrap herself in and disappear.
Disappear.
That would be easier.
Eva turned, ready to leave until her attention caught on an unframed photograph on his desk. She moved closer, carefully stepping over his long legs to touch her fingertips to the image of a woman, her head thrown back, eyes closed with a private smile as she danced.
The picture was taken by one of her parents, unbeknown to her at the time. There had been no reason for her to even dance, no audition or show. She had just wanted to, to move and spin just for herself.
Except the woman in the photograph wasn’t her, not anymore.
Unable to look any longer she pushed the photograph away, finding drawings and sketches beneath. Kace had been replicating the image, drawing images of her over and over, capturing her movements in such delicate detail.
Kace’s breathing hitched, and there was no warning as his arm struck out to grab her. She squealed, falling as his heavy body pinned her beneath him, her wrists held tightly above her head.
Kace growled, a rattling in his chest before he blinked a few times, but he didn’t release her wrists. “What do you think you’re doing here, Eva?” he asked, his voice husky from sleep. She had never heard him so relaxed, the rich rumble somehow calming, crushing her earlier panic as she allowed his voice to wash over her.
