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He cleared his throat and shrugged out of his worn coat. “Ah, yes, that’s me. It’s so good to finally meet you, Sienna.” He leaned forward and held out his hand. As if nothing was wrong.
Sienna sat back. “What the hell? Did you catfish me? You told me you werethirty-five.” No way was the man in front of her under forty. “And what about your photos? Did you photoshop your face onto stock photos or something?” She wouldn’t have refused to date a guy who didn’t have a six-pack, but she had an issue with a man who misrepresented himself to the degree Eddie had clearly gone to.
Somehow, he paled. “Th-that’s actually an older photo, but it’s me. I swear.” He drew a breath and rubbed at his arm. “Please, hear me out. I’m so sorry I was late, and I know I exaggerated a couple of things—”
“Lied,” Sienna said. “The word islied.” She shook her head. “Everyone told me I was being an idiot trying to find a guy in time for the holiday, but I honestly thought I could do it. Instead I’m sitting here in front of the most cliché online dating trap in modern history.” She drummed her fingers on the table, not really paying him any attention, just seeking to release a fraction of her frustrated energy.
“Our conversations were still good, though,” Eddie said.
She pushed out a sigh, too irritated to even think about food, let alone civil conversation. “No. The truth is, they were awkward, and now I’m done. Happy Holidays, Eddie.” She probably sounded like a bitch, but she was tired of this game already. Sherri had been right, three dates in two weeks was too much. She grabbed up her coat and turned from the table, wholly prepared to march home and gorge on greasy delivery until she felt better.
“Wait, Sien—” Eddie’s choked off call urged her to turn back even though a voice in her head said she should keep going. She regretted not listening to that voice immediately.
It was so much like the vision she’d had on the bus the day before, except this was real-time, and the man was different. But he was on his knees, clutching his chest, and ghostly pale. His whole face was strained.
Then, like a creature from a nightmare, the same man in black from her bus vision stepped into focus and strode straight up to Eddie. He brushed his unnaturally white fingers over the back of Eddie’s hand and Sienna watched, breath stalled in her chest and eyes wide, as Eddie toppled over. She didn’t process the screams or crashing cutlery in the background. Barely noticed the blurry movement of other people rushing by, even when one bumped into her.
I was such a bitch…
The black figure turned, not even looking around, clearly intending to leave. It was his movement that spurred Sienna into action. Because this time, unlike in her previous vision, she’d gotten a better look at him and she was sure she recognized him. She needed to know from where.
Sienna moved on instinct, leaping forward before the enigma of a man could disappear again and snatching the nearest part of him—his wrist. His skin was cool beneath hers, but not strikingly so. It was an odd, momentarily distracting, thought that left her staring into his obviously startled eyes. Chilling, yet mesmerizing gray-blue eyes that were immediately familiar to her. She had definitely seen him before.
Knowing she needed to say something, Sienna pushed out the first question that made any sense. “Who are you?” She saw clearly when his Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow, as if she’d asked a difficult question. He finally attempted to pull his arm free, so she held tighter. She couldn’t let him flee.
“Excuse me,” a voice over her shoulder said at the same time as the gray-blue eyes snapped past her. “I’m going to need you both to wait here. The police are on their way.”
Crap.
A low male sigh drew Sienna’s attention back to the man whose wrist she hadn’t yet released. He took a single step forward, into her, and suddenly his arm was around her waist, hand settled over her hip. For a man with cooler skin, the way he held her shot heat through her system like he’d set her on fire.
“Forget about us,” he said, speaking to the restaurant employee who’d approached them. “I’ll be taking her.”
The strange heat he’d spiked only doubled at his choice of phrase. She should have wrenched away and demanded what he meant by such a statement, but all she really wanted to do was plaster herself against him. Had she finally lost her always-tentative grip on her sanity? Her parents had worried about that.
Even as the restaurant guy sputtered a nonsensical response, something like darkness lifted around them and everything faded. Color and shape drained from her line of sight, until she was effectively blind. Bound only by the steady pressure curled around her. It was frightening and freeing simultaneously.
Then it all came rushing back, though it was all wrong. There was no restaurant, there were no crying or panicking diners. Rather, they stood somewhere familiar—familiar enough to be a little jarring. They suddenly stood in her living room.
His arm fell away as Sienna finally jerked away, stumbling until she had to catch herself on the back of her sofa. “H-how did you do that? How did you get here, or know where here is?”
He stared at her, studying her. Eyes faintly narrowed and dark brow furrowed. “What’s your name?”
Sienna straightened. “I asked first.”
His eyes seemed to darken. “Tell me how you touched me.”
She had a very weird reaction to his question. His demand was rude and she wanted to say something snarky right back at him, but the tone of his voice affected her in a way she couldn’t handle. It wasn’t the sharp, commanding part. It was the gravellier timbre and the way that sound rolled through her. It was unfair.
It took her a long minute to drag in a breath and cross her arms stubbornly over her chest, perhaps deliberately in a way that gave a little lift to her cleavage. She’d dressed nice enough for Mr. Thursday, but she hadn’t exactly put the greatest effort in. At least she hadn’t worn the turtleneck dress. “That seems like an odd question to be asked by a man whose name I don’t know, let alone for me to bother answering.”
His jaw tightened. She followed the line of it with her gaze, until it disappeared behind the sweep of hair he’d pulled back. She couldn’t help but wonder how long that hair truly was. “Fenn,” he said after several seconds. “My name is Fenn.”
Sienna stared at him. For a split-second, her irritation spiked at the uninformative response. Then one answer slammed into her hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. She actually did know a Fenn. Sort of.
She’dseenhim, in her visions. She’d seen him for years.
It wasn’t like they had psychic meet-ups. It wasn’t like they chatted. She didn’t have control of any of it. But Fenn had become her constant. Her blood-soaked companion in the dark, the one recurring moment in time she couldn’t stop seeing. It was him, this man standing in front of her. That was why his haunting eyes had enthralled her.
