Fascinated by Marissa Day Page B

to find some anger toward him, but none came. Instead, the terribly comfortable mist rose up in her mind, tempting her as the bed had tempted her. It told her she could lie down and rest, and all this struggle would be done. “You will follow me.”
    Edward shook his head. His face had gone tight, and the moonlight softness in his gray eyes had vanished so that only the gleam of polished steel remained. “Not again, Alicia,” he said, and she thought she saw a tremor cross his shoulders. “Whatever happens now, it happens forever. You come to me, or you go to the mists.”
    Alicia’s ribs squeezed against her heart. “How do you know about the mists?”
    “I’ve seen them.”
    Alicia turned away from him. She could not look at him anymore. It was too disturbing. It was wrong that he should know of the state of her inner thoughts.
    Why, then, did part of her feel so relieved to hear his words?
    “You are laboring under heavy enchantment, Alicia.”
    “Enchantment!” The word whirled her around. Edward had not moved. She walked toward him, searching his face and finding nothing. He must be mocking her, but she couldn’t see it. That precious moment in the park when she’d been able to read his face had vanished.
    “Enchantment,” he repeated slowly. “Look inside, Alicia; look into your own mind. You know I’m telling the truth.”
    He could not be. It was impossible. And yet…and yet…he knew about the mists. In the park, he had spoken inside her very thoughts, and she had been able to answer him. What could that be if not magic?
    Alicia gripped her brooch. The edges dug hard into her fingers. The pain urged her to silence, to stillness. But she did not want to be still. She wanted to run; she wanted to fight. But fight what?
    “I can prove what I’m saying.”
    “How?”
    Edward moved carefully toward her, as an experienced horseman might approach a skittish mare. He covered her hand where she gripped the brooch and the warm press of his palm reminded her sharply of all the ways he had touched her so far. Her fingers went slack and he pulled her hand away from her brooch. Locking his eyes on hers, he undid the button on her glove, and tugged at the fingers, drawing it off so the kid leather brushed slowly against her skin. He gently spread her fingers, so they could both see the angry red lines from where the edges of the cinnabar’s gold frame bit into her skin.
    Edward bent his head over her hand. Softly, he kissed each finger, right over those red lines. Alicia’s mouth went dry and her heart fluttered wildly at the base of her throat. Edward took her bare hand and laid it against his chest, directly over his heart. The beat was steady and strong. The warmth of him slipped into her blood and she welcomed it, like the desert might welcome rain.
    “Hear me, Alicia,” he whispered. She felt the words resonate through her palm.
Hear me.
    Hear him. Hear. Here. Here in her mind. Hear him inside her, where he’d been before.
No. This isn’t possible.
    It is. Let me come to you.
    As these words sounded inside her, the everyday room with its everyday furnishings faded away until they stood in another place entirely. Edward had somehow moved yards away across a winter nightmare of emptiness. Alicia felt her familiar and awfulmists swirling at her back, filled with their numbing cold and implacable calm.
    Edward held out both his hands.
Reach for me, Alicia.
    I can’t. I can’t,
she answered, feeling herself close to panic.
There’s a wall. I can’t…
    Show me. Picture it in your mind, and I’ll see it too.
    How could she picture a glass wall? How was any of this even possible? It was so hard to think and it hurt so badly. The mists were rising now. She could feel them surging around her ankles, her knees. Their cold, familiar caress promised her comfort. They promised she would never have to fight or fear again if she just backed away from Edward and into their embrace.
    Alicia stared into Edward’s