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“Fair enough,” she whispered meekly, unable to break the tether growing between them.
He raised his head, sniffing.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, suddenly fearful.
“No, I was just caught a scent, but it’s okay, it’s one of my men.”
“Am I going to die like Becky?” she asked.
Torin took a step forward. “You won’t die if I can help it. I’ll save you.”
“Save me? Are you sure that’s even possible?”
“Yes, there is a fix, one that would ensure your safety, but again, there are consequences.”
Donja exhaled dramatically, tears welling in her eyes. “Then what are you waiting on? Do you not realize that I’m falling apart, terrified, not only for myself, but my family?”
“Please don’t cry,” he grimaced, “I do know your fear, I can feel it pulsing your veins, smell it on your skin which is exactly why I have fifty men scattered in this forest, watching as we speak.”
“Donja cocked her head, winds whipping her ponytail. “But they’re not the fix you speak of…are they?”
He dropped his head. “No.”
“So, tell me what it is,” she blurted, her frustration growing.
He checked the time on his Rolex, then smoothed his mustache. He glanced to the overhead dome as if contemplating, then took his sunglasses from his shirt pocket. Their eyes met. “Be ready at seven.”
“Seven? Ready for what?”
He licked his lips and donned his sunglasses.
“Answer me,” Donja whispered, searching his face, hating that she couldn’t see his eyes.
He turned to leave, then glanced back over his shoulder. “Our first date.”
Iridescent-101
Donja and Makayla stood in the drive and watched as Torin and Gage drove away from Hampton Manor. Donja, who was still holding Maestro tight in her arms, shifted her gaze to Makayla. “How did the interrogation go?”
Makayla dropped her head fidgeting with her fingers. “Torin was relentless and though I understand that he’s just doing his job, this whole thing has me on edge.” She lifted her troubled eyes, “I’m really worried, Donja.”
“Yeah, I’m worried too,” Donja sighed, “but at least Torin has men watching over us.”
Maestro wiggled in Donja’s arms. He pricked his ears and barked.
Donja and Makayla turned their faces, scanning the meadow.
“It must be the men…Torin’s men,” Donja whispered, “Maestro must smell them.”
Suddenly, Maestro barked again and without a word, Donja and Makayla both spun and made a mad dash to the house.
When the door slammed tight, Donja released Maestro and headed straight for the stairs. Makayla followed behind and then, side by side, they climbed the winding staircase to the second story. In the shadowed hallway, beneath the silver glow of oil lamps, they marched in total silence. Inside their bedroom, Donja closed the door and spun to face Makayla. “I feel like you’ve been putting me off since that scar-faced demon tried to kill us, abduct us, whatever and now Torin,” she whimpered, “talks to me in riddles. My head’s spinning. I need the truth, right down to the last detail.”
“Okay. Where to start.”
“Start with the Iridescents. I want to know everything.”
Makayla tucked her hair behind her ears and finding the bed, sat down. “Well, I’m no authority on Iridescents, but from what Gage has told me, centuries ago when this was Indian territory, before the French arrived, seven spirits came to the people and they blessed them with knowledge.”
