Tentyrian Legacy (29 page)

“Arianna?” I hear a man’s voice ask.

I stand up and walk back nervously into the
bedroom. I tell myself to be confident and strong. I’m going to
find a way out of this mess, and I will find Raad, with or without
Maximos. And I’m not going to be anyone’s prisoner in the
process.

I see it is Maximos, and he looks as handsome
as ever. He is wearing white linen drawstring pants, a navy T-shirt
that fits him like a second skin, and brown leather flip-flops. I
shouldn’t stare; it’s inappropriate. But the man is gorgeous. His
black hair is still wet, as if he came straight from the shower.
Its natural wave is like an open invitation for a woman to run her
hands through it. He smells like mint, and the dark stubble that
graced his chin yesterday—or what I think was yesterday—is gone. My
pulse quickens.

“Hello, Mr. Vasilliadis,” I say
hesitantly.

“Please, I thought we agreed you’d call me
Maximos.”

“I agreed to nothing.” Despite the warm
weather, there is an obvious chill in my voice. I place the white
ceramic teacup with painted pink flowers on the table and cinch the
belt around my waist tighter.

“Did you enjoy your breakfast?” he asks
pleasantly. He’s clearly immune to the look of anger I’m directing
at him.

“Why do you care?”

I need to keep my guard up. He looks so
confident, and the way he is looking at me, I feel like he is
looking within me. Most people, when you talk to them, don’t look
right into your eyes. They focus on your face as a whole, your
lips, or more often than not, your breasts. Not Maximos, though. He
goes right for the eyes. It’s unnerving.

“I was hoping you at least sensed by now that
I genuinely care about your well-being. I’m sure you have plenty of
questions,” he says seriously.

“Yes, I do.”

“We can talk now, or if you’d like a few
minutes to get dressed we can wait . . .”

“Where is my dog?”

“Last I checked, he was eating his breakfast.
But I can get him now if you’d like.”

“Yes, I’d like,” I say firmly with my arms
crossed. We’ll play by my rules, thank you.

“The boudoir and bathroom is just down the
hall to the left if you’d like to get dressed while I get Beau.” I
don’t reply but instead just stare back.

“Okay, I guess that’s my cue to go.” Maximos
smiles, turns, and strides casually from the room. A man shouldn’t
be that graceful.

I count slowly to twenty before I make a dash
down the hall. After tentatively opening the door, I find that the
dressing room and bathroom are twice the size of mine at home and
twice as luxurious. The floors and double sinks of compressed coral
speak to the natural elements of the seaside paradise. The mirrors
above them are outlined in mother-of-pearl. There is even a
chandelier comprised of cubes that look like they are made from
crushed seashells. It’s magnificent.

What’s most surprising is the rectangular
bath that is already filled and steaming. It’s about eight feet
long and four feet deep. The water doesn’t look like it’s stagnant,
though. Instead, it’s constantly flowing. I take a closer look and
dip my hand in. It’s hot. There are no jets, but the water flows in
from a horizontal slit inside the front of the tub and is sucked
out through another at the back. The water smells faintly of
sulfur. This must be a natural sulfur spring tub. If it wasn’t, it
certainly was a waste of water. Speaking of which, I need to stop
wasting time. The last thing I want is for Maximos to barge in
while I’m using the toilet. I wouldn’t put it past him.

I quickly lock the door and make use of the
facilities. It’s a relief to have a moment to myself. Toothpaste is
definitely in order. I scan through the various apothecary jars on
a silver baker’s rack filled with cotton balls, Q-tips, gauze, and
bath products from mini shampoos to lotions. I find there is a
whole jar dedicated to dental care products. I select a pink
plastic toothbrush and a mini-sized toothpaste tube and bottle of
Scope. This bathroom is a traveler’s paradise. I wonder who he
brings here.

As I brush furiously, I examine myself in the
mirror. I look . . .surprisingly good. Shashandra’s braid work—at
least I assume it’s hers—is intricate. And while unusual, it gives
me a graceful Grecian appearance. I don’t have the heart or the
time to undo it. I also notice my skin has a glow about it. It’s
not pasty; it’s porcelain. I’ll have to ask what type of lotion or
oil Shashandra uses. Should I do that before or after I ask why
I’ve been kidnapped? I ask myself wryly.

I take a white washcloth from a sea grass
basket and run it under cold water. Blotting my face and neck, the
coldness feels invigorating, especially in the heat. I go to the
dressing area next, where all of the clothes that were haphazardly
tossed into my suitcase are hanging up or neatly put away on the
built-in shelves.

I select a simple black maxi dress that
miraculously made it into the suitcase. If I had known we were
heading to an island, I would have packed more things like it. But
that’s the thing when you are being threatened and have visions of
being chained to a wall in a basement— it’s difficult to think of
bathing suits and flip-flops. I don’t see any shoes that will work.
There are only four-inch heels. Screw it, I’ll go without. When
your whole life is turned upside down, the small things certainly
don’t matter as much.

When I return to the bedroom, I see Maximos
sitting at the table reading the paper with Beau loyally at his
feet. The ocean breeze lightly ruffles the New York Times in his
hands, and I notice his dark locks are getting curlier in the
humidity. Oddly, the image seems like it fits. The man is just as
at home here reading the paper with a dog as he is in a tux working
the socialite circuit. I run my tongue over my lips, which have
suddenly gone dry. When he sees me, Maximos stands suddenly, and
Beau trots over. Beau jumps up to lick me, as if to apologize for
his newfound allegiance.

“You little traitor, I was worried about
you,” I say to Beau. I feel such a sense of relief to see him again
as my fingers massage his thick coat.

“He’s been fine. Bothering Cook, of course,
but I think your dog loves the beach,” says Maximos pleasantly. A
stab of heartache hits me. Raad had thought the same thing . .
.

“Let’s talk,” I respond quickly. This is no
time to get caught up in emotion. I need information now.

“Do you want to take a seat?” asks Maximos,
gesturing to the chair. I determine it’s best to act like a
composed adult, even though I don’t feel like one. I sit down
awkwardly; my tension is palpable as Maximos sits and puts his
paper aside.

“Where should I start?” Maximos asks with a
strained smile.

“How about at the beginning?”

“The beginning is a very long time ago, so I
may need to abbreviate it for you . . .”

What the hell does that mean?

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that you aren’t like
other people.”

“I don’t know what that is supposed to mean,”
I respond automatically.

“Let’s cut the crap; you can read minds,”
Maximos says as he leans back in his chair and looks me squarely in
the eye. It’s amazing how quickly he went from nonchalant to
accusatory. And Laura says I have mood swings.

“How do you know that?” I ask with my arms
crossed. “Because I can sense it. People like us can sense it.” “So
you can read minds too then?”

“No, not like you. I have my own talents.
Telepathy is a gift that belongs to only a select few. I’ve known
only one master of it in my lifetime.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with why I’m
here.”

“Because your talent is one of a kind, and
people would kill for it.” “So people are trying to kill me because
they know what I can do?” “Yes.”

“But why now? And no one except Raad knows
the truth. And, well, I guess except you. But Raad would never tell
anyone . . .”

“He probably didn’t. But regardless, they’ve
figured out who you are,” Maximos says ominously.

“Who is ‘they’?” I ask.

“A very dangerous group of people. Think of
them as terrorists. And they want to either kill you or use you
against my people and me. I believe they were looking for you when
they took your friend.” Hold on there, crazy town.

“‘Terrorists’? ‘Your people’? I don’t know
who the hell you are, but as far as I’m concerned everything was
perfectly fine until I met you. Which means that you are either
behind this or somehow you’ve helped paint a target on my back . .
. and put the people I love in danger.”

Rather than replying immediately, Maximos
looks out silently at the ocean with a furrowed brow. “Yes, you are
likely right. My association with you probably piqued their
interest. I believe you were watched leaving the Leo party, and
they broke into your apartment the next day and planted a listening
device. We removed one from your apartment. They tracked you to
Raad’s house. You were never in any danger; my men have been
watching you. Unfortunately, we didn’t know they would take Raad in
your absence. Somehow, they have figured out who you really are. It
was inevitable.”

“You’ve had people watching me! And what do
you mean, who I really am?”

“Arianna, you aren’t human.” He pauses to let
the words sink in. I’m not sure I’ve heard him correctly. I’m still
coming to terms with the fact I’ve been the subject of a
surveillance team.

“Not human? What are you talking about?”

“You actually have a different DNA sequence
that has been changing as you get older.”

“I’m human. I’ve seen the
pictures—surprisingly—of my mother holding me at the hospital. I
was born to two humans, I can assure you.”

“Yes, you were. But your genetic code is in
the throes of changing. Your twenty-fifth birthday is tomorrow.
That means there are some big changes in store for you. When you
experience ‘the Turn,’ you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

I begin to rub my temples. I feel a headache
starting to set in. The cause? Talking to an insane person. Up
until this moment, I started to believe him. Maybe people were
really after me. It would explain why I felt someone following me
to Grand Central and why someone had potentially taken Raad, if
they were looking to kidnap me and use me for my mind-reading
abilities. But now, I know Maximos is just crazy and I’ve been
stupid enough to think otherwise.

“Look, you obviously need help. I’m not an
alien. I’m completely human. And I need to get home and find Raad.
It’s time to call the police. You are wasting my time, and this
sick game needs to stop. So let’s get back on your jet, or however
you brought me here, and go home.”

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” he says
with a sad shake of his head. I can hear the obvious frustration in
his voice. “When you bit my hand, Arianna, what did it taste
like?”

Delicious. The memory of that heady flavor is
almost as intoxicating as the blood was itself. But I’m not going
to admit it. My reaction was likely the side effect of the drugs
he’d given me, which must have altered my taste buds.

“Blood, obviously. It was disgusting!”

“You are a terrible liar,” Maximos chuckles.
“We’ll have to work on that . . . Arianna, you are a descendent of
a race of people called Tentyrians. We are not aliens but rather
evolved humans.”

It’s now my turn to laugh. “Oh great, and
that makes you Professor Xavier?”

“Ah, I know that reference—you are likening
me to a comic book character?”

“Fitting, considering you are talking about
fiction,” I say, my laughter disappearing. “Can you please stop
this? Please take me home!” I now sound desperate, something I
vowed to never sound again.

“Damn it, you aren’t hearing me!” Maximos
says angrily as he pushes his chair away from the table and stands
up. The delicate teacup rattles on its plate and falls to the
floor, shattering into dozens of pieces. The noise is a harsh
interruption to the soft ebb and flow of the ocean waves. It marks
the obvious change in Maximos’ mood. His good-humored patience has
now turned into anger. We both hurriedly reach down to pick up the
pieces.

“Arianna, leave it alone. You’ll cut
yourself!” he yells. “It’s not a big deal!” I yell at him with
equal fervor.

Our hands reach for the same shard, and our
fingertips inadvertently brush. The same jolt of electricity I felt
at the Leo party shocks me again. Hot, delicious. I shiver and
pause, looking into his eyes. I can feel his fierce energy pushing
against me. I hold my mental block firm as I teeter on the balls of
my feet, refusing to drop my gaze. I notice the blue azure of his
eyes has become more vibrant, the muscles in his body more
tense—they seem to ripple under his clothing. That’s when his lips
curl to reveal sharp incisors, like fangs.

I quickly stand from my crouched position,
but I’m not scared enough to scream. This must be part of some
elaborate ruse. A really sick one.

“Arianna, another name for Tentyrian is
vampire,” says Maximos as he rises and places the china shards on
the table. He walks toward me. “That is what I am, and that is what
you will become.”

“This is getting really messed up,” I say, a
slight tremor betraying me. “If you take me back home, I’ll make
sure we get you the help you need . . .” I should calm him. He
obviously believes he is a vampire. He is wearing fake fangs, for
God’s sake. How did I not notice them earlier? I’ve heard stories
of people who believe shit like this, but experiencing it is
something entirely different. For all I know, I’m at some secret
cult location with “his people” that all believe in this craziness
too. Shashandra did call him master. What have I gotten myself
into?

“I don’t need help. You need mine,” he says
as he comes closer. “But I need you to understand the truth. This
is also about life and death. I made a pledge to protect you a long
time ago . . .”