From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)(47)

The bed moved at her feet, and she looked down at a mound under the sheets and blankets that grew bigger and wider as it inched toward her. She made out his back and then his head as he moved up the bed, and when the covers slipped back, it was Ares, huge and red, his eyes full of hate, his teeth flashing white as he smiled and wrapped his hands around her neck.

Her body jerked as she woke, her heart beating fast and sharp as she gasped for air. She could still feel the weight of him, the ghost of his fingers against her skin.

She took a shuddering breath.

It was only a dream. Just a dream.

The thought didn’t make her feel any better. She glanced at the clock. It was three.

Her nerves crawled, and her stomach rolled, grumbling and twisting and gnawing itself. She couldn’t lie there a second longer, so she kicked her covers off and paced around the dark room.

She didn’t know what to do with herself, and she couldn’t ask the one person who usually had the answer.

What would Perry do?

Perry would probably make her eat something and bring her some tea, but to do that on her own would mean going upstairs. Alone. She paused, trying to convince herself that no one would be in the kitchen so late, surely.

So she slipped on flip-flops and headed for the elevator.

A few minutes later, Dita shuffled her way into the kitchen and opened the fridge to stare at the ambrosia lined up on the shelves. She grabbed a plate and a bottle of nectar and took them to the counter, eyeballing the glop while trying to figure out what sounded good.

Cookies. Cookies always sound good.

She closed her eyes, opening them to a heaping plate of warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies. After that, she poured a glass of nectar and blinked, transforming it into milk.

Dita sat down at the bar and tucked in, shoveling food into her mouth in silence, but about halfway through her third cookie, she felt someone behind her. When she looked over her shoulder, every bite came rushing up.

Ares was close enough to touch, his face unreadable, his dark hair a mess. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe with his eyes boring into her.

He loomed over her.

Neither of them moved.

Ares broke the connection and stepped around the bar.

She couldn’t look away, paralyzed.

“I’ve been waiting to talk to you,” he said.

Her stomach turned, her body numb. She wanted to get up and run, but her legs wouldn’t respond.

“How are you?”

That question was so ridiculous, she almost laughed. Somehow, she found her voice. “You’re kidding. Please, tell me you’re kidding.” She balled her shaking hands into fists and laid them in her lap.

He looked at her with so much feeling that she felt the tug, that pull to him, and her nerves screamed at her.

His voice was low. “I know you don’t think I have any right to ask—”

She was hot and cold all at once. “No. You have no rights, not when it comes to me.”

He studied her face for a long moment until she couldn’t take it anymore.

She pushed her chair back and stood. “I can’t do this,” she said under her breath as she turned to walk away.

With three swift steps, he was behind her, grabbing her arm just enough to control her. He pulled her to a stop, and she jerked her arm away from him.

Ares straightened up, his jaw set as he looked down at her. “Dita, you have to talk to me eventually.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I’ve said all I needed to say.”

“Please.” Command snaked the undercurrent of the word.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered through her teeth. She spun away from him, walking as fast as she could without running toward the elevator.

“You can’t avoid me forever,” he called after her.

She turned when she made it into the elevator and watched him as the doors closed, the shadows from the dim light hiding his eyes, his jaw flexing as he watched her run away.

She leaned against the cool metal wall, holding herself up by the handrail. Her eyes closed, but she didn’t move, not until she heard the doors open. When she stumbled out and looked around, it was with confusion.

It took her a moment to realize that she was in Heff’s foyer.

As she stood stupidly for a second, trying to figure out what was going on, Heff padded into the room in sleep pants, his chest bare. He ran his hand through his dark hair and squinted at her.

“Dita?” His eyes snapped open, and his brow dropped as he moved for her. “What happened?”

He stopped in front of her, cupped her cheek, searched her face. His fingers against her skin were like fire, and his eyes held her.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Tell me what happened,” he urged.

Her shoulders sagged, and she closed her eyes.

“Come here. Come sit down.”

Heff scooped her into his chest. He smelled of wood smoke, and she pressed her cheek against him, feeling safe for the first time in a long time.

He pulled away and guided her to sit on his black leather couch.

She stared at her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t be bothering you with this.”

He sat next to her and angled to rest his forearm on the back of the low couch. “Tell me.”