I’m already doing that. Every time I have a seizure, it forces him to choose whether to stay and protect me or to run and save himself—and Danny’s always going to stay.
This reprieve from the headaches, the dizziness, the seizures was just an unexpected lull in the storm—she was in the eye of the hurricane.
Sighing, Adalynn turned and stepped away from the window to look at the rest of the ballroom. Though the light provided by the open window wasn’t the best, it was enough to grant her a clearer view of many of the details that had been lost to her in the dark that first night.
The ceiling was made of the same golden oak as the floor, with thick borders around the edges of the room and encircling the lowered portions of the ceiling from which the three crystal chandeliers hung. Intricate designs were carved into the borders and the ceiling itself, including radial patterns around the bases of the chandeliers stylized like rays of sunlight. The frame of each of the tall windows extended beyond the top pane in an arch; those spaces were adorned with painted images of blue skies, clouds, and delicate flowers, adding brightness to the room. The walls were off-white, intersected between each window by gorgeously carved wooden pillars that ran from the floor to the ceiling borders.
She could just imagine the chandeliers above shining in the evening, casting their glow upon the polished wooden floors and ceiling. Their light would reflect upon the windows running along the length of the room. Music would fill the air, drifting through the side doors and into the garden where dancers would sneak away for a moment’s solace.
But those days were long gone.
Why did Merrick live in such a grandiose house? Why had he let the exterior fall into such disrepair?
She supposed none of that mattered.
The thumping of her boots echoed across the wide-open room as she walked to her pack. She crouched down, opened the zipper, and dug inside. She found what she was looking for closer to the bottom of the bag, carefully wrapped in one of her clean T-shirts—a cassette player. If not for Stranger Things, Danny wouldn’t have had a clue what the device was when Adalynn had discovered it in an abandoned pawn shop.
She hadn’t meant to take the cassette player. It was unnecessary; the batteries were better used in flashlights and other handheld tools that contributed to their survival.
They’d gone to the shop in search of supplies—camping equipment, knives, and guns, all of which had been picked clean—when she’d passed a small tower of cassette tapes with familiar names like Beethoven, Mozart, and Tchaikovsky printed on the sides. Without thinking, she’d slipped them into her bag, along with one of the cassette players sitting in the bin beneath them—one that had a built-in speaker—and a pair of headphones.
Returning the T-shirt to her bag, Adalynn opened the player to check which tape was inside. Beethoven’s Greatest Hits. Snapping the player shut, she rewound the tape until she found the beginning of the song she wanted, stood, and walked to the piano. She set the player gently atop the closed fallboard and pressed play.
The hauntingly beautiful notes of Moonlight Sonata spilled from the speaker and drifted across the ballroom. Adalynn closed her eyes and raised her hands, her fingers moving in the air as though she were the one playing as she swayed to the music.
Her earliest memory, from when she was only four years old, was of her father—who was sitting at the piano in the spare room downstairs—helping her up onto the bench beside him. He’d placed his fingers on the keys, given her a smile, and played this song.
Adalynn had been in awe; that moment had sparked her love for piano. It had set her on the path she’d walked until half a year ago, when all that had been taken away forever. That life was gone. Her father, who’d been her very first piano teacher, so patient and nurturing, was gone. Her mother, who’d taken her to every practice, recital, and competition, whether it was for dance or piano or volleyball, who’d always cheered her on, was gone. Only Danny and Adalynn were left…and soon she’d be gone, too.
But this moment, this place…it was a chance to take a little of that back, wasn’t it?
I’ve never danced in a ballroom. Why not knock something off the old bucket list while I feel good?
She smiled as she swayed in wider motions, ceasing her pantomimed piano playing. Toeing her shoes off, she let herself get swept away by the music.
Merrick paced back and forth across his study, hands clasped behind his back—he couldn’t trust them not to expel rogue bursts of magic in his heightened agitation. Everything he’d learned over his life told him this whole situation was a problem, a massive problem. Close interaction with mortals never ended well. He could only suffer loss and pain as a result.
Adalynn had dominated his thoughts even though he’d kept himself isolated from her since yesterday morning. He’d locked himself in his study, meaning to continue searching the books lining the bookshelves for useful information regarding this new world, the awoken ley lines, and the nature of life, death, and magic.
Instead, he’d found himself seeking a way to turn his power toward healing. He’d perused tomes for hours and hours, flipping through countless pages—many of which would’ve crumbled to dust at his slightest breath were it not for his magic holding them together. All that searching had come up with nothing. Warlocks, it seemed, could not use their magic to heal mortals. Healing was the forte of witches—who were separate from Merrick’s kind, despite the misconceptions of humans—and the fae-blooded.
Even after he’d finally pried himself away from that search—well after night had fallen, when only occasional flashes of lightning brought any illumination to the sky—he’d thought about Adalynn. About the way she looked, the way she sounded. About the little he knew of her life and circumstances. About the strength, courage, and character she’d displayed in her short time here.
About his overwhelming desire to be near her, to touch her, to taste her.
That undeniable attraction unsettled him. He’d been in control of himself for centuries, had honed his discipline and detachment to a fine edge—a blade to wield in self-defense against an unforgiving world. Magic was in his blood. Magic was in the very fiber of his being. It was his calling, his purpose, and humans had always stood against that.
But perhaps even more unsettling was that a deeper instinct—deeper than those that urged him to send the humans away—suggested she was his calling. They suggested Adalynn was Merrick’s purpose. How could he accept, after two days, that he’d been wrong for over a thousand years?
It was lust. Dangerous lust, powerful lust, but nothing more than that.
He swept his gaze over the open books atop his desk as he turned to resume his pacing. This was all a distraction, a waste of time that would have no reward in the end.
Storm or not, he needed to cast the humans out. He couldn’t risk anyone having control over him, not when his power had risen to such immensity. If he’d grown so obsessed after the brief time he’d spent with her so far, how bad would he be in a week? In a month? Would there be room for a single thought in his mind that didn’t involve her?
And that wasn’t even taking into consideration the question of his magic. For his own security, he needed to keep his abilities hidden from them. They seemed to think of him now as a grumpy-but-kind stranger, and once they’d all worked past their initial tensions, they got along well enough. How quickly would that change once they learned what he was? In Merrick’s experience, humans tended to view what they didn’t understand—magic being high on that list—as an intolerable evil.