Deesse de la lune.
The words whispered through my mind. I'd heard them before. Now I heard them in Adam's voice.
I fought the heavy veil of sleep, tried to surface, to see. Who was speaking? What had they said and why?
Bursting awake as if coming from the depths of a rolling ocean and into a silent night, I found myself alone. I glanced toward the window, but nothing was there.
"A dream," I murmured.
I was so sick of dreams.
The room was dark; the moon had disappeared and the sun hadn't yet arisen. A secret, lonely hour, which wasn't night or day or even dawn.
The front door closed. Before I even knew what I was doing, I jumped out of bed and pulled on my clothes. Or what was left of them. My tank top was shredded, so I helped myself to one of Adam's, but my breasts tumbled out the armholes, since he'd shredded my bra while he was at it.
What had been incredibly sexy last night was merely an annoyance now. I mumbled curses as I found a T-shirt that might have been white once but was now kind of gray, and tugged it over my head.
A quick glance out the window revealed Adam slipping through the shadows and into the tall grass.
This was his place. Where was he going?
Time to find out. I raced through the house and out the front door.
Did I actually believe I'd be able to follow him through the swamp without his knowing I was there? He'd lived here all his life, and while I'd spent a lot of time in some very odd places, I wasn't exactly the invisible woman. Nevertheless, I had to try.
Head down, he barely looked where he was going as he meandered through the weeds and the standing water. Was he thinking of me? Or the us that could never be? What about the us that might be? Did I dare tell him I wanted to try for more, or would that scare him off for good?
Considering I'd never woken in the daylight with him by my side, no matter what we'd shared in the night, scaring him off wasn't hard. Why worry about it now?
Dawn broke, spilling muted sunshine across the land. There was a chill to the morning, but soon the heat would rise. Ahead tires roared across pavement; a horn tooted. I glanced around, uncertain where I was.
Adam climbed an embankment, then crossed a highway I didn't recognize. On the opposite side lay a trailer park.
Frowning, I crept forward, catching sight of him just as he opened the door on one of the mobile homes and disappeared.
What the hell? Was this where he spent his days? Not in a coffin or a grave or a lair but a trailer park? I hadn't seen that coming.
I left the cool shadows of the swamp, slipping and sliding up the embankment, then waiting for a semi truck to pass before I scooted across the two-lane highway.
Expecting the trailer park to be run-down, kind of shimmy, I was surprised to find neat plots of grass and flowers planted around the bases of most of the mobile homes. Each was well kept, clean, even shiny.
Tricycles, Big Wheels, Flintstone cars, resided in nearly every driveway. Where Adam had disappeared, they had one of each.
My eyes narrowed. Who lived here? I had a very bad feeling I wasn't going to like the answer.
Tempted to bang on the door, I refrained. Just past six in the morning, I didn't want to be rude. So I slunk around the side and peeked in the window. I didn't mind being criminal.
Cartoons spilled across the TV screen. A little boy of perhaps four or five stared avidly at the square yellow blob with a face, legs, and hands that appeared to be dancing under the sea.
I craned my neck. A young African-American woman stood in the kitchen, pouring cereal into a bowl. Her hair had been left natural, forming a short, tight, attractive Afro around her pretty face. She couldn't have been more than eighteen, maybe twenty.
I returned my attention to the child - dark hair long and shaggy, his skin kissed by the sun. I couldn't see his eyes. He could be hers.
Hers and -
The young woman's head came up as Adam appeared, his hair slicked back from his face, a towel around his neck. Chest bare, he now wore jeans instead of slacks.
"Daddy!" the child screeched, and left the cartoons behind to launch himself into Adam's arms.
I didn't realize I'd stopped breathing until black dots shimmied in front of my eyes. I sucked in air, let it out again. I should sit down, put my head between my legs, or maybe just pound it against the cement. But I couldn't tear my gaze from Adam and his son.
The child clung to Adam like a monkey, arms tight around his neck, legs clutching his waist, and Adam rubbed his cheek against the boy's hair. The love on his face caused a tiny sob to escape.
Adam looked up and I ducked so fast, I got dizzy again. I crouched below the window, breathing as shallowly as I dared, listening for the creak of a door, but nothing happened.
So I sat on the ground, dangled my head between my knees. I should get out of here. Someone, if not Adam or the little woman, was going to discover me dallying in the patch of grass beneath their living room window and wonder what kind of psycho they were dealing with.
A snort of laughter erupted. He'd been angry when he thought I was married and screwing him. What was his excuse?
"Maybe they aren't married," I muttered.
Which was no excuse.
He'd lied to me somewhere along the line. Although I hadn't asked if he was involved, nevertheless, wasn't it good form to mention it? He definitely should have mentioned the child.
Of course Adam had made certain I was leaving, made clear he didn't love me and never would. He probably figured I'd be gone long before it mattered that he had a son and a live-in woman. Maybe she didn't care if he played around. But I did.
A thought niggled at the edge of my mind. If I could just get my brain to function past the sight of that little boy's smile and the sound of his voice shouting, "Daddy!"
But I couldn't From the way I was hyperventilating and clutching my chest, you'd think I'd just caught the love of my life in bed with another woman.
I cursed, forced myself to my feet, and took a deep breath. I'd head back to the mansion, gather my things, and move in with Cassandra. Then I'd hire another guide, find the freaking loup-garou, put a leash around its neck, and deliver the beast to Frank. All without ever seeing Adam Ruelle again.
I turned and ran right into him.
He glanced from me to the window and back again. Neither one of us spoke.
I lifted my chin and tried to walk away. He sidestepped, putting himself directly in front of me.
"What are you doin' here?" he asked.
"Get bent"
"You followed me."
"Dub.," I muttered, which was so constructive but the best I could think of right now.
"You shouldn't have."
I was tempted to say "duh" again but managed to stop myself. Instead I said nothing.
He grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the mobile home, glancing over his shoulder as if afraid someone might see. I struggled against his hold, for all the good it did.
"You have to go."
"Damn straight."
"I'll come to de mansion tonight. I'll explain."
"Don't bother." I pulled free.
"You don't understand, cher."
"Do not call me cher!" I shouted, and to my horror, my voice broke.