The Beckoning of Beautiful Things (The Beckoning Series) (36 page)

Jason released Renata’s hand. “Yes, sir,” he said, his face a sullen pout.

After El Demonio settled beside her, he spoke to the handsome driver and they were on their way.

As they made their way off the property, the laborers would cease what they were doing and stand at stiff attention. Others yanked at the sleeves of those who paid no notice to the vehicle, pulling them up to standing. Some even saluted.

“Why are your workers so scared of you?” Marissa asked.

El Demonio ignored her.

“They seem petrified of you.”

“That’s not my problem. Getting good product is my only concern.”

“And you don’t think you can accomplish this without scaring the bejeezus out of them?” She shook her head, and turned to stare at the Jeep
s in front and behind them. “Why the military escort?”

“I have enemies.”

“What kind of enemies.”

“Deadly ones. Let’s turn our attention elsewhere, shall we?” He flicked his hand.

The driver’s face glazed over. Marissa experienced a stab of pain, like two sharp needles were being jammed into her temples. “Ouch!” she exclaimed. “What the hell was that?”

His face furrowed
, and he said nothing. He flicked his fingers again, and the driver blinked and shook his head. Marissa’s headache vanished.

She continued to stare at her surroundings, passing abundant greenery erupting from the red soil. “Why is the soil so red?”

“From all the blood I’ve spilled,” El Demonio said. He glanced at her and a half smile formed on his face.

Marissa shrank into the seat.

“That was a joke. I was kidding.”

“It wasn’t very funny.”

The chauffeur shook his head left and right almost imperceptibly.

It’s not a joke.
She shivered and pressed against the car door, eager to be as far away from him as she could. “You were funnier when you were in Seattle.”

His lips pressed together like a clam shell. “I was probably trying to impress you.”

“It works better than abduction does, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Are you always so brazen, my dear?”

“I seem to be, yes.”

“I find it delightful.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” He spoke to the driver. The driver nodded. El Demonio flicked his fingers again and the glazed eye face appeared once more.

“What are you doing to him?

“He doesn’t need to remember the way. The same thing is being done to your friend back there.” He indicated the Jeep behind them.

“That’s kind of mean, taking people’s memories. The same thing was done to me as a teen.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. People can be cruel.” He patted her hand and did not inquire. “The red soil is called terra roxa. It’s very rich in nutrients. Our plantation grows some of the finest
coffee in the world because of this rich soil.” His face grew animated. “Once you’ve accepted life around here, I’d like to show you around.”

“What makes you think I’ll ever accept life around here? This is not my home.” Her heart felt heavy.
Strong, then fly away.

He looked perturbed. The wheels in his brain seemed to be racing to put things in order. He turned to her, his face earnest. “I’m not what you think I am. I can explain.”

Why do all the men I know have to explain things to me?
“Go on.”

El Demonio regarded her somberly. “I loved her.”

“Loved who?”

“Josephina. She was to be my bride.”

“She was to wed Daniel. She loved him.”

His nostrils flared and the muscles on his neck corded thick and large. His hands clenched into fists. A nervous tick tippity-tap
ped on his forehead. “Not in the same manner.” The words came out in a hiss. “Not in the least.” Reining in his temper, he changed topics, assuming the visage of a sweet old man. “My plantation here in São Paulo is world renowned. My most popular coffee is Pouco Noite. That means ‘little night.’ It has a dry cocoa fragrance and dark honey and chocolate dominate the darker roast levels.” He brought his fingertips to his mouth and kissed them. “The wet aroma is sweet, like caramel vanilla. You will enjoy it.”

Marissa eye
d him suspiciously.
Jekyll and Hyde?
“It sounds delicious.”

“I have another – a milder blend with a nutty, malty, slightly fruited fragrance. It is good for espresso. You will enjoy this one as well.”

“I look forward to it.”
This guy is wacko!

“The coffee has to be harvested in the dry season when the coffee
 cherries are bright red, glossy, and firm. We harvest ours by hand. The skin of a coffee cherry is thick and bitter. However, the fruit beneath it is intensely sweet and has the texture of a grape. The next layer is the parenchyma, a slimy, honey-like layer, which helps protect the beans. The beans themselves are covered by a parchment-like envelope called the endocarp. Once picked, the coffee has to be processed right away.”

“I didn’t know that. I drink coffee every day and had no idea how it was made.” She picked at
the dry, jagged skin around her fingernails.

“People seldom look below the surface. They consume, they take
, and no thought is given to how or why something is as it is or how it came to be.” He paused, looked out the window and spoke to the driver.

They turned from the dirt road they were on onto a smaller, poorly maintained dirt road. The driver slowed, easing over and around the potholes.

“This is the road to your new home.”

“The road isn’t very well maintained.”

“It serves to detract.” His brown eyed gaze sought hers. “This was to be the home that I would share with Josephina. I loved her very much,” he repeated.

“And you think you can just bring me here and have me take her place.” Marissa’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Not at all. You’ll serve me in different ways.”

Marissa scoffed. “What makes you think I will serve you at all?”

“You’ll have everything you need. You’ll come to love me.”

“Are you kidding? That will never happen.”

He pursed his lips and stared out the window.

“Josephina did.”

“If you say so.”

“You don’t believe me
, but it’s true.”

“She had to be a lot younger than you. You’re way older than Daniel.”

He sucked in a breath. “Yes. But the love was evident. It was real.”

“I was told that you tried to get her away from Daniel and that you cast a spell over her.”

“I did nothing of the sort.”

Marissa’s solar plexus flared. “That’s a lie.”

He barked orders to the driver, clearly uncomfortable. He sat, silent and simmering. After several moments, he said, “She was never his.”

“Another lie.
She loved him, and you know it.”

“She was mine before she was his! Of course I tried to get her away from Navid.” he snapped, viciously.

“Okay, that seems true enough. Why did she go to him, then? Did Daniel cast a spell?”

“How should I know? We’re done with this topic.” He spoke fiercely to the driver, gesturing with his hands.

The same heat wave that had assaulted her at the dinner table filled the car, suffocating and strong. She put her hand out and found it difficult to move it, like she was pushing through hot, wet clay. She rolled the window down and puffs of red dust seeped into the car. “Man, you’re big on climate change,” she muttered.

“
I have command over the water element. Cold and hot are simple. Roll the windows up. The red soil is hard to get out of the upholstery.”

She did as she was told. “Turn off the heat, then. I can’t breathe.”

Once more El Demonio slowed his breathing and calm restored.

“Thank you,” Marissa said.

“You’re quite remarkable.”

She said nothing, biting her cheek.

“I’ve never met anyone like you. I can see why you were hidden away.”

Her eyes flicked over to him and then she resumed staring at the scenery.

“My abilities don’t seem to affect you the way they affect others.”

“Yay, me.”

“I’m serious. I’m one of the most powerful individuals in the world.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“That’s the thing. You’re not.”

“Your power has a price tag – a hefty one.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re a miserable old man, that’s why! You think you can capture, coerce, intimidate. It’s folly.” She turned to face him, angry and frustrated. “The man I met in Seattle was a charming old man. You’re nothing but a bully - a controlling, manipulative bully. I’ll never love you – ever. I’ll find a way to leave this place, mark my words.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ms. Engles.”

“Think so?” Her eyes blazed. “Think again.”

“That’s enough.”

“I’m not your child.”

“No, but I can hurt you.”

“What makes you think I can’t hurt you?”

A cold laugh erupted from his throat. “I don’t remember the last time anyone spoke to me this way. I find it delightful. It’s like a lover’s quarrel.”

A surge of heat roared inside of her
, equaling the intensity of the heat he’d just blasted out. “You and I are not, will not ever be lovers. This is a quarrel between enemies, Mr. Díaz. This is an argument between the abducted and her abductor.”

“Most delightful.” He smiled.

It was the first genuine smile she’d seen since she got here. Her anger was
not
having the effect she’d hoped for. Instead, he found it charming.
Well, how fucked is this?
She hunched down in her seat, trying to make herself as small as possible.

They drove the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached the top of a steep, rocky hill, they entered a huge gate and pulled up to one of the most exquisite homes Marissa had ever laid eyes on. A large circular driveway curved in front of a mind-blowing home. The home so mesmerized her that Marissa barely noticed the gate clanging shut behind the last Jeep once they’d entered.

An array of plants marked the center of the driveway. Pink and red hibiscus and pale yellow trumpet flowers provided a smorgasbord to the hummingbirds whizzing from flower to flower. Bromeliads and other green vegetation surrounded the flowers. A beautifully landscaped yard flanked the driveway.

El Demonio studied Marissa’s face as she took in the scene.

“Are you trying to determine if I like it?”

“Do you?”

“It’s beautiful. It doesn’t mean I’m staying, though.”

“The fact that you like it is important. Anything not to your liking will be gone, instantly.”

Poof, like the worker
, no doubt.

“I take pride in my gardens. I have cultivated them for years, for the time when you were by my side.”

Marissa’s eyes darted to the sorcerer and then to the exquisite yard.
Obsess much?

He pointed out the window. “Over there are my Heliconia. They are the orange spiky flowers. Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Uh huh.”
He gardens?

“I have rare orchids in the back, beyond the pool. The ghost orchid is my prize possession. Have you seen one?”

“Nope.”

“You will love it. They are beautiful, fragile white flowers, like art. You will love to paint them.”

“How do you know I paint?”

“I know
everything
about you, my dear. I have studied you for years.”

Marissa’s skin rippled with goose flesh. “That’s creepy. I’m not a moth, you know.”

“No. You are an exquisite being whom I hope to share a lifetime with.”

A shiver rolled up Marissa’s spine.
Not happening.
She turned her attention to her new, gorgeous prison.

Two sweeping wings extended from either side of what looked like the main house. The home didn’t just rest on top of the hill – it seemed to hover in mid-air, like Beelzebub eying his prey below. The entire glass, chrome
, and slabs of rock structure loomed. The house had been built to be open to the elements. Rings of plants popped up through elegant stone floors. A curving tree made its way up through a cutaway in the second floor landing.

A dense forest lay beyond the back of the home. Colorful blue and yellow parrots flew from tree to tree
, shrieking and cawing. In the distance, Marissa spied monkeys swinging from tree to tree. “What kind of monkey are those?” she asked, fascinated.

“Oh, capuchin…squirrel monkeys. I don’t know, I pay them no mind.”

The chauffeur parked the car in front, leapt out, and raced around to get her door. She stepped out into the stifling heat.