No smoke without fire

A new night dusks

*Priya*

Claire might be on to something, I admit to myself. I attempted to be like her on numerous occasions, I really did. I could mimic her flirting enough to get some guys interested, but I just didn’t get the kissing part. Maybe that is not entirely correct, in my dreams, with him, I could die for kissing and I just want to keep his lips on me as his taste burns my lips, and his smokey scent, oh so delicious and unique wakes my blood. His raspy chuckle drums along my blood vessels as it slowly encompasses my torso, gradually reaching my every fiber. How could any everyday guy on the block live up to the expectations set by that? Still I tried. Half-heartedly, at best, but I tried. I promised Claire I would, but those attempts were doomed from the start. So why, oh why on Earth am I standing all dolled up in front of the mirror waiting for Claire to pick me up and go out to have the time of my life? She didn’t mention guys, but it is Claire, there is always at least one guy involved if she is concerned. Oh right, she pulled the love you sis, can’t do it without you card on me.

I groaned at the mirror. I carefully chose my set, I would hate to take the lime light from her, but she’d feel lousy if she’d need to defend me from nasty remarks. I picked red, that matches both my dark hair and her blond mane, but I went easy on the cut. Red long sleeved top and leather coat? Check. Black jeans and red boots? Check. I opted for minimalist make up but for the lips, I needed something strong and fiery there to draw the attention from my right temple. No makeup could conceal the burn mark distorting my skin, gift of the fire that consumed our house, yours truly. I touched it gently, hideous as it is, it escorted me through all hardships, like a protection charm. Whenever I started to doubt my own sanity and was tempted to believe my doctors, I touched it and all my little secrets suddenly made sense again. It antagonized everyone else enough for me to use my hair to cover it up. I tousled my black curls to frame my face and steeled my resolve. I can do this. I can smile and laugh and flirt.

A light passed by my house, and the shadows collected at my feet in a gentle sway, so I knew Claire is here to pick me up. With a parting huff to my mirror, I grabbed my purse and left the house. I jogged down the path to get into the car with Claire. Happily she gave a loud smooch to my cheek. That's one of the reasons I leave out the heavy makeup, it would all smear up with her enthusiasm around.

- I have no clue how you do it, knowing when I arrive. You, lady Py must have a sixth sense.

Winking at me she teased: - 'And that is exactly why you simply must join me today. I am to meet someone new and I need your little antennae that make you grimace the moment someone bullshits.'

I stared at her dumbfounded.

- What are you taking me for? A pocket lie detector?

Confirming she clucked her tongue with a delight.

- An adorable little pocket lie detector of mine! Don’t you want to ensure I have the best possible men at my side?

Dubiously I echoed her words.

- Men? Is that a royal plural or are you not even attempting to stick to one guy at a time?

She had the decency to not answer that, pretending to focus on the road. I allowed her that leeway and I turned to the window to look at the view passing by.

The darkness wreathing at the base of the buildings and peaked at us from intersections brought a smile on my lips with their familiarity. After a 30 minute drive Claire pulled down at a small community museum’s parking lot. I gaped at Claire, who obviously enjoyed my shock.

- You might wanna grab that jaw of yours from the floor, Py. Aside from appearances, it is also a rather useful thing to have around.

I kept looking for a bar, straining my ears for traces of music and laughter, signs of a place we would fit in, but all I saw was a few cars way above my pay check and uniformed people standing at the gate of the museum. Unsure of what the hell we do here exactly, I followed my sister’s confident stride, though with way less self-assurance. I was about to voice my concern, when we reached the entrance and she handed over our invitation. A few steps behind I suddenly came to a halt, unease grabbed my stomach curling its fingers tightly around it, my skin prickled and the fine hare at my nape rouse. I tried to find the reason of my instinctual fear, the nagging in the back of my skull, that kept me 10 paces away from the well lit entrance. The darkness pooled at my feet as if defending me from the impassive brightness of the building and gathered strength from its closeness.

The building appeared new, with all the modern angles and lack of colors, its pristine white only broken up with well calculated patches of grey rectangles and reflective surfaces. The whole setting wanted to be state of the art and fresh, a tad too much so. It drew my attention of the underlying tone of something ancient and ageless, a power that the everyday luxury attempted to hide. A harmless little building just recently finished, dwarfing my sister with its presence.

Claire realized my reluctance and turned to me with a questioning arch of her brow, when her gaze caught on a man stepping out of the building. A tall, muscular shape in elegant pale grey suit stepped up to her to greet her in a tad too familiar form. His long graceful fingers tenderly resting on her shoulder, he leans subtly toward her.

- Miss Feuren, I am delighted, that you could make the time. I understand you have an escort?

I watch the color rise in my sister’s skin, delicately tainting her complexion, as she gazes up into his face obscured by snow white shoulder length hair. With a bit of stutter, she answer: - 'Yes, yes. My sister is here with me. Please let me introduce you to her.'

Now turning to me, a frown of urgency draws her eyebrows as her tilts her head in invitation: - ‘Priya, please let me introduce you to my new employer, Mr Adam Fenya.’ With that his face angles toward me, and for the first time I see his handsome features, edging on beauty, but my gaze only sees his eyes, milky white and unseeing, resting on me as if he could perfectly envision me despite his blindness. His perfectly formed pale lips invite with their smile as he beckons me: -‘Come, step into he light.’

*Shade*

- ‘Come step into the light.’ – he smiled, and fury washed over me like tidal waves over the rocky shores. The shadows sensing my rage curled tighter around her feet. With weary hesitation, she glanced between the human woman and the pariah, then slunk out of my clutches. Seething I coiled my fingers into my fist. Such a well-timed appearance is not a coincidence, I didn’t hide my trail enough. And I am not yet strong enough to defend what is mine. Gritting my teeth, I reached out to my servant. She will not be stolen from me.