Gemini by Dylan Quinn Read Free Book Online Page B

leaving Zoe when something buzzed in my pocket.
    I removed the phone Raz had given me. Zoe's name lit up the screen. I hadn't expected to hear from her so soon. My heart pulsed with anticipation.
    I fumbled with the device, perplexed how to answer the call. Zoe had to place her number in the damned thing because I had no idea how it worked.
    Using technology would take some getting used to.
    When I needed to contact Zoe, I had only to use my thoughts. No words were necessary, but that was a gift we weren’t allowed to utilize here. Not until Gabrielle confirmed our union, and our souls Converged.
    For now, we’d resort to this archaic form of communication.
    "Zoe, what a pleasant surprise."
    "Cade." Her tone was stern and unyielding.
    "What’s the matter? Has something happened?"
    "You," she said. "We need to talk. Right now."
    "All right. Shall I meet you somewhere?"
    "Where are you? I'm already on my way."
    I gave her directions and within minutes, she was knocking on my door. Loudly.
    A brooding glare greeted me when I opened the door.
    "I’m pleased to see you again." I smiled to soften her mood, but I could tell by her expression my attempts would be in vain.
    I recalled this look, and it was seldom followed by pleasantries of any sort.
    She darted past me, through the foyer and into the great room. Glancing around, she found the doors leading to the balcony and went outside.
    Her aura was as bright as the June sun. I could not deny how being near her brought my body to life. She clutched the black iron railing and rocked onto her toes to peer at the lakefront below.
    I stepped behind her while she stared out toward the horizon. I wanted so badly to take her in my arms, to feel her body pressed to mine. To kiss her velvet lips.
    It had been ages, and it took all my reserves not to embrace her when she rotated around and folded her arms over her chest.
    "I need some answers." Her cheeks were reddened from either heat or anger, I wasn't sure. “I need to know about this whole Firstborn Daughter thing.”
    Her gaze pleaded for answers, but there were few I could give. Laws to the Doctrine were precise, and I refused to risk our Eternal union over broken rules.
    "What has happened?" I asked.
    “So, you’re my Gemini. You have a Genesis mark. And an aura. I assume that also means you’re part of the Genesis bloodline.” She paused, staring at my wrist. "Although I'm not entirely sure what that means."
    I placed my hands into my pockets. “Is that your question?”
    With a narrowed expression, she shook her head and thrust past me into the apartment.
    Behind her, I followed as Zoe wandered the great room, inspecting the sparse décor.
    She stopped. Her eyes widened and lips parted, seemingly stunned by what she beheld.
    I knew immediately what had caught her attention as innocent awareness glazed over her features.
    She turned and stepped reverently toward the white instrument that beckoned to her from the corner of the room. It was the only item of our life in Aravot that I brought to Chicago.
    Zoe circled her Grand Piano, ran her hand along the top. She pulled out the seat and lowered herself.
    With trembling hands, she lifted the keyboard cover. Placed her fingers in playing position and held them steady, though not depressing the keys.
    Zoe’s gaze glowed with intense focus. Her aura grew brighter and stronger.
    Music was her second love, though I often wondered how close a second it was.
    As if in a trance, she closed her eyes and began to play. A hauntingly familiar melody drifted through the air—a song she had written for me hundreds of years ago.
    A blast of her emotions flowed through me.
    Her memories were returning.
    Zoe stopped playing mid-chord, her eyes opened, and she inhaled a cavernous breath.
    Sensing her anxiety, I stepped behind her and rested my hands on her shoulders, running them down her arms.
    "This piano," she whispered, staring at the keys. "It's—familiar."
    "Yes."
    "I don't understand