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Darkness fills my senses, and the world swirls around me. A silent wind spins me, breaking me apart and putting me together again. Oddly enough, although I can’t even feel my own body, I feel Adrian’s presence with me, keeping me from completely falling apart in the void. I drift for a time, awash in nothing.
A sucking sensation overwhelms me, slowly pulling me together, causing specks of light to break through what had seemed like never-ending darkness. I become aware of a strong grip around me as my body takes form once more and my feet wobble beneath me, struggling to support my weight.
“Easy there,” Adrian says softly, his grip tightens on my arms, holding me up. The moment his voice registers in my mind I rip away from his embrace, leaving the steady security of his arms.
I struggle to right myself, keeping my arms outstretched as I hurriedly step away. “Get the fuck away from me,” I growl, my lips curling as I continue my retreat, my gold heels clacking against the weathered dark brown hardwood floors.
My head whips side to side, taking stock of my new surroundings. Fear floods my veins, as I take in the unfamiliar room, oil paintings and tapestries decorate the otherwise white walls, trim wrapping around the small room. Antique black wall sconces line the room, strange floating orbs of light illuminating them. I search for an escape route, the need to get away burning through me, forcing movement I don’t feel ready for.
Out of my peripheral I spot a large wooden door, a plain brass knob gleams in the light emitting from the glowing orb above, the key to either my salvation or damnation. Weighing the options, I slowly angle my shaky feet, taking one more step, before dashing to it. Sweaty palms clasp the doorknob in desperation. I turn it to the right, to the left, it catches and sticks. I pull and push at the door, my moment of hope crashing, quickly dashed out with fear and panic.
“Liv, please,” Adrian whispers, his hand softly covering mine on the doorknob, slowly easing it off. I jump away, crashing against the wall in my haste to escape him. I wince at the impact. I can’t allow his words or his touch to distract me again.
“Let me explain.” Desperation softens his eyes as he looks down at me, his feet moving to approach me once more. I quickly blink away the pain and rush away from the wall. Not giving him the opportunity to trap me against it.
My heels slide on the polished floor, my ankle twisting in the thin straps. Stumbling, I struggle to right myself, panic making my movements clumsy. I slide my heels off and whirl back to him. He makes his way towards me, movements slow, as though trying to placate a wild animal, hands up, attempting to look non-threatening.
I flip my shoe up, taking what I assume to be a fighting stance, as I wield the heel like a knife, ready to stab him in the eye if the opportunity arises. I suddenly wish I’d taken some sort of self-defense class rather than partying all this time. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that bullshit.
“Careful, I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he says gently. I would almost think it was earnest, if it weren’t for the fact that he just kidnapped me.
“Did you drug me?” I sling the accusation, my voice taking on a shrill note. It echoes off the suffocating walls enclosing me. Not daring to take my eyes off him for a moment, I hold my heel steady.
He comes to an abrupt halt with his foot raised in the air, mid-step, before he brings it down hard. Confusion and hurt mix with the sadness in his gaze.
“I would never.” His face turns to stone, his voice taking on a harsher tone as he stares in disbelief.
“Then how do you explain this?” I motion around with one hand, as the other stays poised, not wanting to lower my guard. “How do you explain us getting here, you kidnapping me without me being aware of ever moving?” I glare at him, pushing aside the odd feeling—the feeling of my body dissipating—and try to find a reasonable answer for all the strange events that don’t add up.
“You must have some idea.” He smiles sardonically, no hint of amusement reaching his eyes. My stomach lurches and bile rises in my throat. I think of the strange events that don’t quite add up. I never saw him lock the door to the change room, but Phil couldn’t get in until I had that strange feeling. The strange floating lights, the locked door we never entered. Not to mention the disappearing and reappearing in a completely different place.
“Just put the shoes down. I’ll explain everything once you take a seat.” He raises his hands and takes a step back in an attempt to pacify me.
“I won’t be doing any of that.” I sneer, rolling my eyes at him. The level of this man’s audacity is astronomical. Thinking I’m naive enough to fall for his tricks again. I open my mouth to say just that, but pause, confusion washing over me as I look around. “There isn’t even anywhere to sit.” I prop my non-heel wielding hand on my hip, smirking triumphantly as though I just won the argument with that point alone.
He chuckles, shaking his head then snaps his fingers. A large burgundy velvet couch pops into existence behind him. Turning the tables on me, he smirks as he lowers himself down effortlessly. Leaning back, he drapes his arms across the top, and lazily crosses his feet.
I huff out a breath, annoyed with how quickly he proved me wrong, before realization hits me. The couch came out of nowhere. Out of thin-fucking-air. It couldn’t be a trick of the eye since, just moments before, I ran through where the couch now stands.
“How?” My eyes open in shock, mouth agape, as I analyze every inch. His face softens, taking in my surprise.
“Take a seat, and I’ll explain everything.” His eyes plead. Lowering one arm into his lap, he opens a space for me.
I shake myself, not allowing my shock to soften me towards him again. “I also won’t be doing that.” A haughty tone to my voice, portraying an air of confidence I don’t feel. Keeping him at a distance once more, not letting him see past my mask. “You popped that couch up real quick. I’m sure you can pop up a chair for me.”
He smirks, the same smug look crossing his face as he snaps his fingers once more, showing off the ease at which he can conjure items into existence. Waving his arm, he gestures to the matching high-backed chair, the wooden arms ornately carved. Hesitantly, I make my way the few steps towards the chair, the wooden floors chilling my bare feet. Lowering myself into the chair with just as much care, my mind still reeling from the ease in which it appeared. I make no move to lower my shoes and clutch them in my lap as though they are my lifeline.
He chuckles, shaking his head, and I look back at him defiantly, cocking my head, eyes cold. Silently daring him to make a comment. Wisely, he keeps his mouth shut, clamping his lips to avoid letting another chuckle loose. Well, at least he’s a kidnapper with a sense of self-preservation.
“I’m sitting, are you waiting for a written invitation or what?” I jab, cocking an eyebrow in challenge. A sly smile crosses his lips, apparently intrigued by my attitude. He matches my challenging look, arching one eyebrow. A sexy smirk plays on his lips.
No, not sexy, creepy. Yes, kidnappers are supposed to be creepy, right? My eyes drift down. I didn’t even notice that he’s fully clothed now. He takes in a deep breath, his chest pulling his T-shirt taught, showing the delicious contours of his sculpted muscles my hands were just running over moments ago. The tight jeans complement his thighs’ corded muscles just as much as the swim shorts had.
No, Liv, stop thinking about his sexy body. Think about his creepy kidnapping tendencies and strange powers.
My eyes snap back up to his face as he clears his throat, taking notice of my lingering eyes. I sit up in my chair, composing myself as I direct my attention on him—well—on his face this time.
“There’s usually more time for this,” he says, his tone gentle. He rubs the back of his neck, arms coming to hang limply at his sides, losing his previous cocky air. Impatiently, I gesture for him to continue, not wanting to drag this out any further.
