Page 28 of Burn for the Devil
16
Samantha
Even though I didn’t speak Italian, I still loved the opera. I’d loved it since I was a child, the orchestral music, the visuals, scenery, costumes, and storytelling through music and song. The spectacle spoke in a way that made knowledge of the language unnecessary for interpretation. As a teen, jokes had occasionally been flung my way due to my love of the often-misunderstood art, as well as criticism for not speaking the language. No matter; no one could sway me.
Lighting my hand onto Matthew’s outstretched one, I stepped out of the vehicle and onto a red carpet, lightbulbs flashing in the distance, spotlights illuminating the symphony hall. I’d attended multiple performances ofLa Boehmein the past, but the fact I had didn’t dampen my current excitement.
Matthew was dressed in a dark navy suit, the cut precise and compelling, the shade almost black, with a glittering tie pin and chain. His eyes roved over me in appreciation as he smiled down at me. “That necklace is beautiful on you,” he remarked.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
My pulse increased, wondering if he was behind the gift. No recognition of the piece had flickered in his gaze, but I didn’t know the man, I was ignorant of his tells. He led us to our seats, a private curtained area. Soft voices floated around us, accompanied by the cadence of the orchestra warming up. We were served champagne, which I eagerly accepted.
Matthew seemed perfectly comfortable in my company while I struggled with unease. I hadn’t been on a date in a long time and was no stranger to polite small talk but found myself unable to find a suitable subject. Clearing my throat softly, I scanned the audience, spotting some of the faces I’d seen at the gathering a few weeks ago, as well as others. This was my territory, my people, I fit in. Even if I’d been descending into the madness of a disordered psyche.
A hand brushed my shoulder, smoothing my long hair back. “Are you all right? Do you need anything?”
Matthew’s eyes were filled with concern. “Yes, thank you. The champagne is lovely.” I winced at my stilted words. My heart began pounding, and I felt sweat prickling my hairline. There was no reason for the unusual physical reaction, I was safe, nothing could hurt me here. Other than the break-in, I’d never had experience with any injury other than the minor cuts and bruises of childhood, having been too sheltered for a serious event. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
He squeezed my hand and helped me up, politely standing as I stepped around him. I needed to find the restroom and gather my wits. Lifting the hem of my skirt, I quickly left our enclosure.
Multiple acquaintances of my parents slowed me down, the obligation to meet our social norms a requirement. My pulse remaining elevated, all I wanted was to escape. There was something,something, I needed, but I didn’t know what it was. It was drawing me in, elusively. I couldn’t identify it. My heart thudded in my chest, a sharp burst against my ribs.
Shivering, I apologized to the couple blocking my way. “I’m so sorry, we’ll have to catch up another time.” I plastered a smile to my face, edging around the man and woman.
The restroom door was opened for me, and I thanked the attendant. Setting my clutch on a small table, I gazed at my reflection, a splotchy image peering back at me. Snagging a handful of paper towels, I pressed them to my face in a desperate attempt to look presentable again, all while regulating my breathing, silently urging my heart rate down to respectable levels.
The longing feeling in my chest reminded me of my imprisonment in the tiny cottage in my dreams. Gasping for air, I backed into a cushiony seat and sat back.
Hushed, urgent voices were outside the door. I tried to focus on them and not my spiraling memories. The door popped open, Matthew striding in. “Samantha? What’s wrong?”
He bent his knees, tilting my chin up with his index finger. “I’m fine,” I replied, smoothing my hair back.
His eyes snagged on my necklace for a moment before he got up and retrieved a bottle of water, handing it to me. “Thank you, you’re an angel,” I said, giving him a small smile.
Matthew coughed, turning his head. “You’re welcome. Where did you get that necklace, it’s gorgeous.”
Briefly, I’d considered the idea he’d gifted me the piece of jewelry. It was clear now that he hadn’t. “There’s a unique shop, Blackbeard’s, that does fantastic work,” I answered. His hand hovered over the gold, almost touching it but not quite.
He raised his eyes to mine, irises glittering almost pearlescent under the lighting. “Are you ready?” he asked. The guarded change in his attitude filled me with trepidation. I nodded rather than verbalized my desire to leave the bathroom while he took my arm, holding me softly and drawing me to his side.
The performance had started, the lead singer’s glorious voice raised in song, and the sound soothed my soul. My blood pressure lowered while I exhaled deeply, the palm of my hand against the luxurious material of my companion’s jacket. Matthew raked his white-blond hair back as we turned a corner and entered the main hall leading to our seats. He was a good-looking, wealthy man, a relationship with him would please my parents. It wasn’t a hard decision to make.
17
Ramone
Lava poured through my veins. Thick, viscous fluid enflamed the cells that had gathered together to form this body of mine, right down to the mitochondria. It tore through me, tinging my aura. I literally saw red.
Matthew had his hands on the goddess—well, one hand, but it was all the same. He touched what was mine, claiming her with what was designed to appear innocent, the palm of his hand and the flesh of his fingers sweetly brushing the silk of her skin. She couldn’t see it, I didn’t believe, but his lust swirled around her, pungent and musky, violating her on a spiritual level that was solely mine to assault.
A smile crinkled the skin around my eyes when I spotted her compliance. The band of gold and shining gemstones glistened along her collarbone, one jewel dipped into the valley between her breasts, artfully supported by the exquisite cut of her gown. The urge to signal my approval washed over me, the compulsion to give her a little surprise between her creamy thighs from across the room tingled through my fingers. Only the disgusting presence of the archangel halted the motion, and at the verythought of him, murder replaced the essence of lust swirling around me.
The man’s attention startled, the shift near imperceptible. Scanning the room, he spotted me. A range of emotions trailed through his countenance while he sought an alternative route. There was none, he was trapped. My long legs propelled me forward, seeking my target, my lips tilting into a smirk.
I knew just what to do.
“Ramone,” Matthew greeted me, delicately modulating his voice. I replied, voicing his name and meeting his eyes before switching my gaze.