Shadowed

Three knocks. That's all it takes to completely shatter the moment. Three knocks on the cell's door and Dari and I are separate again. The air feels heavy in my lungs, my vision blurred and distant. All I can see are Dari's brilliant eyes shimmering in the damped light of the cellar. Four more knocks permeate the silence. I sigh, trying to regain myself, and rise to open the latch. Through the small opening Jillian's face appears, smiling and brilliant like always.

"Evening guys, sorry to interrupt." I don't know why but I get the impression she's not that sorry. From behind me I feel Dari tense up. He has an odd aversion to Jillian, though she doesn‘t seem to notice or care. "Kay," She continues, "There’s a young gentleman upstairs who is looking for that book you wrote..."

"You wrote a book?" Dari interrupts. She shoots him a look that says far more then I would like. I don't wait for more.

"Sorta. It's no big thing. I'll tell you about it in a sec." I say heading for the stairs. As I pass Jillian she squeezes my arm, smiling faintly while watching Dari.

"Don't worry, I'll watch him." She says faintly. I glance over at her, pausing long enough to steal a look at Dari. He sits calmly, legs stretched out and reclined as always. But I can't help thinking he seems suspiciously cold. I slip out of the Cell quickly, following the landing until I reach the main entrance. Behind me I hear Jillian close the Cell's door. I stop, staring at the closed off cellar for a moment before heading into the back of the library.

I meander through the shelves, trying to find some source of life. It's getting late; the lights are burning full and a faint glimmer of the moon wrinkles through the cracks in the curtains. "I didn't know the library stayed open this late." I say to no one in particular.

"This one's special." Jillian's beside me. I pause for a moment, taken aback by her sudden reappearance. "He's in the fiction." She says. Then turns and slips away, as though she intends for me to take an adventure without her. I wonder at her sudden change in character as of late. With more an idea of where to look I find the beginning of the fiction section and wander through. No sign of life to speak of. I suppose Jillian could have been mistaken. It's not unheard of for her to confuse fiction with fantasy though you would think by working in a library she could get it straight.

I work my way to the back of the shelves, picking through the dark covered books and fingering the lettering on the backs of each; Caves, Chive, Claude, Craetion. I run my index finger over the name, foreign to anyone but myself. Pulling the maroon book from it's cradle I flip absently to the title page and read aloud its contents. "The merging of the Moons, a fictional story by Syren Eve Craetion." I laugh shortly, "Who'd read this crap."

"Excuse me." I stiffen. The sight I find is not what I was expecting... but defiantly more then I was hoping. Tall and broad shouldered he stands before me, silver stands of hair dripping into his eyes that glitter taunting and deep. A long cloak runs from a stiff collar to the backs of his buckled black boots. Hidden under his cloak, a blood red collared shirt half open to reveal a strong chest. Yet nothing is as striking as his eyes; one moment silver the next seemingly gold. Short of fangs he's a character straight out of a vampire horror story... or romance. "I think you have the book I was looking for." He says.

I fear he sees my heart leap in to my throat. I swallow hard, trying to remember he is a customer while being engulfed by his eyes. I straighten, this is nothing more then an interface with a customer. Nothing more then one more book to one more abnormally attractive, silver eyed, perfect impersonation of a vampire... Happens every day.

"Merging Moons I assume." I'm revealed to hear I sound calmer then I feel. "Miss Craetion has quite an active imagination." I hand him the book promptly, loving and hating the manner I manage to handle the situation in.

"It's a story about my future." He says. I can’t help but chuckle at him, his tone so honest and blunt. Ah, he's a weirdo. A super attractive weirdo. I’m unsure how to feel knowing he likes my writing. He is unmoved, holding a hand out his expression serious. I offer out the book shaking my head bemused.

"Here you are sir, it's all yours." He takes the book from me, brushing his fingers against mine and sending jolts of lightning down my hand. I pull back surprised, rubbing the spot to stop the tingling.

"Daiye." He says.

"What?" I respond, taken aback. He cocks his head to the side and smiles a crooked smile. For a moment my chest hurts, as though he's stuck me. He brings his head down to look me in the eyes. I lean back from him until I can't lean any farther and his face looms over me.

"I said my name isn‘t ‘sir‘," He whispers. "It’s Daiye… Miss Craetion."

D
I
E

M
I
S
S

C
R
A
E
T
I
O
N

I can't breathe, and the realization I can't breathe comes one breathe too late. I gasp to regain my oxygen and put my hand hard against my chest. Shutting my eyes against the water that pools there. I loose my footing, leaning back a fraction to far. I twist mid air, between stopping my fall and looking back over my shoulder.

I catch a glimpse of him for one moment before I shut my eyes. His face contorts into something of confusion and fear and he reaches out after me. His reaction is lightning fast, and an arm wraps around me tightly. I stare at the stranger staring back at me, intense golden eyes fixed on my own. They're so much more brilliant up close, like lanterns on a foggy night. The longer I stare, the farther down I feel myself fall as if my insides were slowly thawing. His smell, his scent, his body screams right. I’m overcome with the sensation of melting, acutely aware of his hand on the back of my head.

And then I am clinging to him, much to my own surprise. Warm against his body which somehow feels cool to touch. The stranger thing is he is holding me as well, just encircling me in his arms as if he had been doing it for years. I breathe deep and find he has the most comforting smell of darkness and fresh rainfall. Who is this man... Daiye.

"You feel familiar." He says. "Do I... Know you?”

"I'm sorry." I whisper, pulling away from him to shake my head clear. “I don’t know why I…” He looks me over evenly then raises an eyebrow with that strange smirk. Again I feel pain mixed with a tingling sense of euphoria. I blush, realizing my embarrassment. "Sorry." I say.

There's a thud and in unison Daiye and I turn our heads to see. A moment suspends in time as Dari stands stark at the end of the shelves, eyes locked on the stranger. Daiye's shoulders harden and shift uncomfortably under his cloak as he turns to face Dari. Both stand what seems suddenly primal staring one another down. Dari's fingers clench and unclench, breath near visible through his arching shoulders while Daiye puts one hand slowly to his side, cloak fluttering away from his movement.

No one breathes.