seconds ago?
He placed his hand on the doorknob. She could hear his fingers brush along the smooth finish and her pulse fluttered, her body instantly flushing with excitement. She braced herself for his entrance. Seconds ticked by, anxious tension snapped in the air.
His hand fell away and she heard him take a step back. Her claws bit even deeper into the counter as her body jerked forward of its own accord, seeking him. Sonya blinked back disappointed tears.
God, she was being ridiculous. She kept a tight hold on her emotions, but the Curse had unleashed her most secret regrets, teased her with past actions she wished daily she could forget, and set free her inner most desires.
“I’ll be back late.”
“What about dawn?” she asked, worry elevated her voice.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, too confident for her liking.
She wanted to ask how he could survive the sunlight, but he had already turned from the door. She listened to him cross the room. The soft click of the door closing behind him crystallized her blood.
Alone. She was alone and at the mercy of the Curse.
Sonya splashed her face with icy water. Her breaths came as sharp painful gasps. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. Slowly, the sorrow and crushing loneliness faded leav ing her body and soul quacking.
She gathered her knotted hair, sweeping it up in a bun, and piled the mass atop her head. Focusing on her breathing, she used her free hand to pat water along her cheeks and across her nape.
“Get it together,” she whispered to her ghostly reflection.
The episodes were steadily worsening. The Death Curse was gunning for her and she knew the end of her mortality was quickly approaching. An odd sense of relief accompanied the knowledge that she would soon shake hands with the Grim Reaper. She would finally be with her family, god willing.
Closing her eyes, she prayed for forgiveness of her past sins, of which there were many. To see her parents and sister again would be a blessing. Though centuries had passed since their brutal deaths, she could still see their cheerful faces and hear their laughter as if they had never gone.
Sonya let her hair down and brushed away the twin tears that slipped down her cheeks.
She opened her eyes and let out a slow sigh.
Damn, I'm a mess.
Turning from the vanity, she crossed back to the shower. Steam billowed from the top of the glass enclosure, the heat beckoning her. She unlaced her boots, stepped out of her destroyed jeans and entered the shower.
Stepping under the spray, she welcomed the pleasurable sting of the hot water and the instant relief it gave to her aching muscles.
Closing her eyes, she titled her head back and surrendered to relaxation. Clearing her mind of all thought and worry, she allowed the stream to wash the dirt and blood from her skin. The water revealed numerous cuts and bruises; fortunately her shoulder had become numb after Falcon’s ministrations.
After what seemed like ages, Sonya began her bathing ritual, using the luxurious soap and shampoo provided by the hotel. Once she rinsed her hair clean, she reclined back against the wall and enjoyed the steam.
It wasn’t long before dawn when Sonya finally stepped out of the shower. She wrapped a towel tightly about her frame then padded to the door.
She emerged from the bathroom; a cloud of steam followed her. She crossed to the bed where Falcon had laid out one of his black shirts and a pair of gray workout shorts. Dropping the towel, she grabbed the shirt. She held it up and inhaled deeply, taking in his fresh, masculine scent. She slipped the garment over her head; the hem fell to the top of her thighs. Falcon stood six feet, three inches, but she was no petite miss. She was long and lean and at five foot ten, she towered over most women she knew. Next, she stepped into the shorts. Dressed, she used the towel to pat her hair dry.
Glancing out the wall of windows she could see the sun peeking over the