Waking Eden (The Eden Series Book 3) Read online

  The urge to placate and soothe her mother’s anxiety with blithe assurances that everything was fine bubbled to her lips.

  No. This wasn’t her problem. Not anymore. She was free. On her own and no longer beholden to this woman in anything beyond loyalty and love. “All right then. I’ll check in with you in a few days.”

  She pushed from the table and snatched her purse. She could do this. Just walk out the door and keep her mouth shut.

  She opened the front door and the sun lit up the dark entryway like a breath of fresh air.

  “Trinity.”

  Mid-stride across the threshold, Trinity glanced back and the buzz-tingle combo flashed back to life.

  Her mother’s flat, brown eyes glared from the kitchen entry. “I know what you are.”

  Trinity pulled the door shut behind her and jogged down the sidewalk. Her mother couldn’t know. Not really. But God help her if she ever found out.

  Chapter 5

  Ramsay hustled across the plaza in front of the downtown Dallas library and dug his iPhone out of his back pocket.

  Four-forty-five. Way too damned close. Maybe he’d catch a break and learn she worked a later shift, but odds were on her being an eight-to-five girl.

  The library’s sand colored exterior with dark tinted windows and clean, once-thought-futuristic lines screamed eighties architecture. He opened one of the many glass doors and strode across the neutral, yet dated marble floors to the main desk.

  An older woman straight out of a textbook librarian image peered up at him with a friendly smile. A white security badge dangled around her neck, the name Martha in big black letters. “Can I help you?”

  Rows of teak-colored tables stretched behind her, all walks of life taking up random seats while others roamed in and out of the tall shelves on either side.

  “I’m here to see Trinity Blair.” His words came out more winded than he cared for, a fact he’d like to blame on the rush to get there. Truth was, his body hadn’t stopped pulsing since he’d stepped foot out of the council building.

  Martha scanned the row of offices along the far wall, all with doors closed except the one on the end. “I’m sorry, but she appears to be gone for the day. Is there something I can help you with?”

  Not unless she knew a convenient way to rewind this whole damned day so he could show up thirty minutes earlier. “Any chance she’ll be back in this weekend? There’s something I wanted to run past her and was hoping I wouldn’t have to wait until Monday.”

  She grabbed a pink pad with While You Were Out blazoned in blue text at the top. “It’s against our policy to give out employee schedules, but if you want to leave a message, I’d be glad to pass it on.”

  “Oh, this isn’t business.” He flashed his most charming smile, the one he used on Orla when he was tired of bachelor food and wanted a particular meal. “Trinity’s a friend of mine. I needed to ask her a quick question.”

  Her mouth pursed in an attempt to hide a knowing grin. She failed miserably. “If you’re friends, then I’m sure you’ve got her contact information. You can call her and ask when she’ll be here again or meet her outside of work.”

  Damn. Schooled by a little old lady he could snap like a twig. His pride rebounded. “You’re right. I’ll shoot her a text and see what her schedule looks like. Thanks for the help.”

  The lady smirked, but went back to her work.

  Great. Now what?

  He meandered toward the offices, winding through the aisles until he was sure Trinity’s guard dog, Martha, had forgotten he existed. He pulled a book from a nearby shelf and pretended to check the contents. With a mental push, he tried the doorknob on the first office.

  Locked.

  He tried the other closed doors.

  All locked.

  He snapped the book shut and shoved it back on the shelf, no doubt plugging it in the wrong spot.

  All wasn’t lost. He could hit Ian up to do a search. Maybe see what his PI skills turned up. Still, approaching Trinity at her house wouldn’t go over well. Not with a girl like her.

  A pair of women with the same library identification tags ambled into the main lobby from a side hall, one of them gesturing wildly to match whatever story tumbled from her lips.

  He might not be able to charm info out of Martha, but women under the age of fifty were a whole different ballgame.

  “Excuse me.” He strode toward the girls, checking to make sure Martha kept to her business. “Trinity’s office is locked up, and I was supposed to meet her here before she went home. Any chance you guys know where she’s parked so I can catch her before she leaves?”

  Manufacturing an innocent, good-natured boyfriend expression wasn’t one he had any experience with, but he gave it his best shot.

  The dark-haired woman who’d been telling the animated story brightened and pointed toward a door at the end of the hall, a green Exit sign overhead. “Oh, no problem. We just left her. Out that door and over to the parking garage. If you hurry you can catch her before she gets there.”

  “Thanks!” He winked and jogged down the hallway, giggles from the two girls trailing behind him.

  The security door kachunked open.

  He blinked against the blinding afternoon sun. A mom hurried across the street with two toddlers in tow. Businessmen and women exited the buildings on all sides, some on phones, some chattering with those next to them. Cars raced between the stoplights and the drone and honks of traffic from the nearby freeway buzzed behind him.

  Fuck. Where was the parking garage?

  The light across the street turned green and a cluster of people stepped off the curb. A flash of blonde caught his eye, the owner’s petite form moving more leisurely than the rest of the crowd.

  “Trinity!”

  His shout garnered more than one turned head, but the blonde head in question turned more sharply than the others.

  He jogged to catch up with her, earning a honk from an impatient driver before he cleared the curb.

  Trinity took a cautious step back. “What are you doing here?”

  Ramsay kept his distance, her death grip on her briefcase’s shoulder strap and the fear in her eyes slapping his conscience. “Sorry. I was trying to find you to apologize.”

  “And you knew to find me here how?” She might be nervous, but the bite in her tone said she didn’t lack backbone.

  “I, ah…” Ramsay ducked his head. Shit. Coming clean on this one was going to be tricky. He looked up and cocked what he hoped was a sheepish grin. “Your friends mentioned where you worked.”

  Her cheeks flushed a bright red and she turned for the garage. Yep. Definitely a backbone.

  Ramsay darted forward and gripped her arm. “Wait.”

  She spun around so hard her briefcase nearly took out a woman passing on the sidewalk.

  Ramsay held up his hands. “They only told me where you worked. I promise. And believe me, that took some doing.”

  Trinity scanned the street. Was she planning to run or looking for a cop?

  “Listen, I’m afraid I came off like a class-A dick yesterday,” he said. “I was kind of hoping I could make it up to you. Maybe get some coffee. Something public. Simple.”

  What the hell was he doing? Coffee? The extent of his conversations with women usually centered on music, social life, and sex. With Trinity and a coffee shop he’d be in a whole different realm of shoptalk, unless he got lucky and her librarian side had an affinity for military history. That he could talk about.

  She took a deep breath and stared past the parking gate to the dark shadows beyond.

  “Come on,” he urged. “Just coffee. Or dinner, if you’re hungry. Someplace quiet where we can talk.” He motioned toward the cars parallel-parked in front of the library. “I’ve got my car parked around front. We can stay close. You pick.”

  Trinity shook her head, straightened to the peak of her whopping five-foot height, and headed for the garage. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” />
  He followed, but kept a decent distance. “I promise. I just want to get to know you. Make up for the way I acted. What can I do to make you feel safe?”

  She stopped and ran a hand through her hair. A chunk of her nearly platinum locks fell across her brow in a sexy tousle.

  Damn but that was a good look on her. One he’d give a lot to see under entirely different circumstances.

  She shoved the strand out of her face and held out her hand. “Give me your license.”

  Well, she wasn’t storming off anymore, so that was something. He dug in his back pocket, tugged his license from his wallet, and handed it over.

  Trinity plucked it from his fingers. “Oklahoma?”

  “My twin and his bain—wife live there.”

  “So you’re here on business or pleasure?”

  Don’t fuckin’ blow it, lover boy. Stick close to the truth. “A little of both. They’re newlyweds and driving me nuts. Plus I needed to research some things for our family business. The trip here covered both.”

  She tapped the corner of his license for a minute then dug in her purse. She whipped out her phone, snapped a picture of his license, and handed it back. “I’m texting a copy to three of my friends. I’ll call them before we go in and after we leave.”

  She pursed her mouth in the cutest way. Her lips were a pretty pink. Pale to match the rest of her coloring, not at all like the darker skin tones prevalent with his race. And they were full. Kissable.

  Wait a minute. He was here to find out about the necklace, who the hell she was, and how she knocked him on his ass. Not lock lips and see if that perky personality of hers transferred to the bedroom. “So, where are we headed?”

  Trinity readjusted her shoulder strap, dropped her phone in her purse, and squared her shoulders with a determined air. “How do you feel about pizza?”

  * * *

  Serena glided through the stark council hallways toward her first taste of freedom in weeks, Thryus waddling beside her. She opened and closed her right hand, willing the tingles left behind from Ludan’s perusal of her memories to fade.

  The bastard. Signing over all she’d inherited from Maxis, including his palatial estate, had been bad enough. Being forced to submit to Eryx’s somo was the worst kind of torture.

  Thank The Great One for Thyrus’ intervening gift. Most solicitors had the ability to act as a gateway for memory scans, keeping the browser to the parts of life that were under evaluation and leaving the more intimate details in the shadows.

  “I know you’re disappointed not to be fully exonerated,” Thyrus said between choppy huffs. “But considering how things might have gone, you’re really very blessed. Try to look on the bright side.”

  “The bright side?” Serena froze. “I’m one misstep away from being cast out of Eden with no powers. No one in my family has so much as raised a hand to acknowledge me, and I have no idea where I’m going to sleep tonight.”

  Thyrus patted her shoulder and urged her to keep moving, completely unaffected by her outburst. “Not to worry. I’ve got a few apartments you can choose from for the time being. Give yourself a day or two to settle and see what develops.”

  An apartment? Was he out of his mind? Her room at her family’s estate was bigger than most warrior homes.

  They turned the corner, the council foyer abandoned but for a few straggling ellan and warriors guarding each door. A slow steady burn started behind her chest. This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out. She was meant for more. Greatness. Power. Not driveling behind her solicitor and accepting his handouts.

  The doors opened and the late afternoon sun washed over her, warm and soothing. A step up from the dark confines of the warrior training grounds where she’d been held.

  A respectable crowd waited, not a crush, but at least fifty people up close and several others in scattered huddles further away. Maybe another hundred.

  She moved to the first of the council steps and two people moved in on her right.

  She halted, and her hand jerked to her throat. Not just random watchers, but her mother and father. Their heads were held high, proud smiles on their faces, the picture of support and concern.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked her father, smoothing her expression to mask her surprise.

  Reginald wrapped one arm around her shoulders and guided her down the steps. “Why, supporting my beloved daughter, of course.”

  The four of them navigated the crowds, Thyrus leading the way.

  “Odd, I didn’t notice any support while I was locked up, or through the trial.” Outwardly, she might be the epitome of grace under pressure, but she made sure her disgust was evident in her tone.

  “That was before you built a following.” He handed her a news flier folded to accent the header of the top story.

  I Did It For Love.

  Reginald tightened his grip on her shoulder, more of a warning than anything born of affection. “Chin up, dear. You’re a bit of a blooming celebrity. Have a mind to how you use it.”

  Chapter 6

  Ramsay zipped into a parking spot outside what looked like a dive bar. White stucco walls stretched to form a simple square building with a flat roof and blue trim. Above the matching blue door hung a cheesy blue and pink neon sign in the form of a martini glass with Louie’s in cursive beneath it. “This is a pizza joint?”

  Trinity fidgeted with the leather tassel on her purse. If she was impressed with the Spyder’s swank interior or the price tag that went with it, she sure wasn’t showing it. Not at all the kind of reaction he normally got from women. “Martini bar, actually, but they’re known more for their pizza.”

  She opened her door as soon as he got it in park.

  He hurried around to her side, barely making it before she shut the door. “Makin’ it hard for me to show good manners.”

  “Oh.” Trinity’s gaze back-and-forthed between him and the car. “Sorry. I guess I don’t…”

  “Don’t what?”

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a lot of work into studying her sexy as hell black pumps. Her matching skirt hit just above her knees and her prim blue sweater set rounded off the whole hot librarian vibe. “Dates usually mean touching, so I don’t do it much.”

  Not many dates. Which meant not much in the way of kissing. Or anything else.

  Untouched.

  The idea detonated inside him. He could touch her. Give her what no one else could. Explore and teach her all kinds of wicked things.

  Fuck. He had zero business entertaining anything along those lines. Not with this woman. He needed answers. Not sweaty sex with a probable virgin.

  “Well, then, you’re due for some much needed practice.” With a light touch on her arm, he steered her toward the entrance, avoiding skin-to-skin contact.

  Inside, the bar was packed. Not at all the kind of place he’d expected his buttoned-up librarian to pick. One side was older, dark with remnants of heavy smoke from days before the ban on indoor smoking, and small, black-top tables that had probably been around since the fifties. Not a single chair matched. The other side was newer, an add-on with exposed brick walls, party-sized booths, and a whole lot more light.

  Ramsay gave the hostess his name while Trinity plastered herself to a wall in the shadowed entry, arms crossed and tucked in tight. Damn, but that must make her life miserable. Forget about sex. How’d she get through growing up without so much as a hug? Surely she didn’t have this issue with her parents.

  The hostess motioned for them to follow and trotted toward the newer side.

  Trinity hesitated, gaze darting between the loitering bodies as though plotting out a safe path.

  “Come on, Sunshine.” He pulled her against him and navigated the crowd. “If you’re big enough to let a guy grovel over dinner, the least I can do is run interference.”

  The hostess showed them to a booth and offered Trinity a menu.

  Trinity accepted it at the furthest corners.
r />   “How long have you fought the whole touch thing?” Not exactly a subtle conversation starter, but dancing around the topic seemed silly at this point. Besides, her condition might somehow feed into the rest of the information he wanted.

  Trinity made a big show of perusing the menu, tapping the corner with her index finger. Unfortunately, her eyes never lingered on any item long enough to make the act convincing. “Since I was six. It took about a year, but the doctors finally diagnosed me with haphephobia.”

  “Fear of touch.”

  Trinity’s head popped up, her mouth slightly ajar. The non-stop tapping stopped.

  “What?” He winked at her and set his menu aside. “You think a guy like me doesn’t know big words?” A guy like him had all kinds of time to learn multi-syllable words. One of the benefits of being one hundred and fifty-two years young.

  She coughed and fisted her hands in her lap. “Sorry. That was rude of me.”

  “Hardly. More rude for me to tease you about it. Though it’s kinda cute the way your ears turn pink when you’re embarrassed.”

  One hand shot up to the side of her head. “They do not.”

  “Do too. It’s cute.”

  She traced the shell of her ear, lingering for a second or two.

  “It must have been hard on your parents,” he said.

  Her shoulders dropped and her sweet smile vanished. She shut the menu and set it away. “Harder after my dad died. He meant everything to Mom, and when she lost him…” She frowned at the table. “She stuck by me, but she was never the same again.”

  A waitress with deep maroon hair and cobalt blue streaks sauntered up and broke the tension. She was a tiny thing, four-foot-ten at best, but her demeanor screamed of good-natured rebellion. Kind of a renegade faery minus the wings. “You two know what you want?”

  Ramsay motioned to the menu and grinned at Trinity. “You pick. I’ll eat ten of whatever you’re having.”

  The waitress laughed, a full belly rumble that made the two tables beside them turn to take notice. “Damn, girl.” She sidestepped to get a better angle on Ramsay and winked at Trinity. Her eyebrow piercing glimmered in the overhead fluorescents. “Lookin’ like that and giving you carte blanche? Sounds like you’re in for a fun night.”