Chapter 6: S1 Hidden: Breakfast at Eight
1048 Words
Aden Clarkson
Sophia pokes at her gooey sock-covered foot, then sighs. Loosening the shoe, she slides it off. Peeling the muddy sock from her foot, she slips it into her shoe along with the other one. She stands, then glances at Aden. She flashes him a half-smile, then shakes her head.
"Well, in the immortal words of William Shakespeare, 'What's done is done and can't be undone.'" She tosses the items in a trashcan nearby. "Thanks again. Both of you."
Turning away from Aden, she makes her way down the trail barefooted.
"Hey," Aden calls out to her. "You shouldn't be walking alone right now." He rises and closes the gap between them. "Remember what the officers said." Drawing closer, he sips on the tantalizing aroma wafting from her body.
"Why? Do you think . . ." Sophia's voice cracks. "Do you think he's still out there? Waiting?" Her eyes dart back and forth, scanning the wooded area around the trail.
He samples the air. The lingering scent of her attacker is almost gone, but he's not ready to part with her, not yet.
"Not sure," he says.
His inner beast wants to draw her trembling body into his arms - hold her, comfort her, protect her.
"It would be safer if you weren't alone." The thought of her in danger and vulnerable eats at him.
"Which direction are you two headed?" She chews on her bottom lip.
"Well, originally, we were going to take another pass through the park." His eyes zoom in on her mouth. Her lips, he'd like nothing better than to nibble on them, too.
Fuck. What am I thinking?
"But it's getting late." He taps his watch.
Logan stands, then approaches in a slow jog. "Which way are you going? Where's home?"
"Down Broadway Street." She points in the general direction. "My uncle's place, Hidden Treasures, is on the corner right before the Witte Museum."
"Wait. Isn't that a commercial zone?" Aden's brows shoot up in surprise. Some of his past and current business deals encompass the area.
"Um. Yeah. I guess so." She shrugs.
"Hidden Treasures. That's the bookstore, right?" Aden takes in the movement of her legs. To be more exact, the flexing of her long, lean thigh muscles each time she takes a step.
Walking down Broadway, Aden's senses are on edge. A tension wafts in the air that he can't place. Its heaviness pervades his bones.
He, Logan, and Sophia dart across a street, jaywalking, then head down the sidewalk leading to the bookstore.
At the entrance, she keys in the numeric code 2729 that he etches into his memory.
The keypad flashes red twice, then turns green.
She pulls the outer door open and walks inside the narrow entry. After extracting a key from a zipper compartment in her shorts, she makes her way to the door.
A gust of wind blows through the confined space, generating a howl that makes her jump.
Sophia's fingers shake, and the key slips out of her grasp.
It falls to the stone floor, making a dull thud upon contact.
Aden kneels and places a hand over hers.
The touch of her skin produces a hot plethora of warmth that prickles under his palm and rekindles the flow of untapped magic to surge forward.
"I got it." He slides the key from her trembling fingers, then rises. With one fluid motion, he slips it into the lock and opens the door.
Steady beeps drum in the air as an alarm counts down.
Eyes glued to her glowing fingers, Sophia stares at her fingers and whispers, "No. No. No. No. Not again. Not now." She shakes her hands as if to rid herself of the glowing magic.
He finds her reaction to the magical current peculiar, especially at her age. A child, sure, he could understand, but a young Wiccan in her prime. It makes no sense.
"Um, Sophia." Aden taps the doorframe, drawing her eyes away from her hands. "You might want to take care of that." He points at the keypad.
"Oh, uhm." In a flash, the magical charge dissipates. "Sorry."
She steps up to the box just inside the doorway and punches in another set of four numbers, 9272.
He shakes his head, then glances at Logan, who raises his brow, no doubt thinking the same thing.
She needs better security. Maybe when she gets to know them better, she'll be open to a security upgrade.
Once inside, Logan heads for the stairs. "I'm going to perform a sweep of the upper-level living quarters. Then I'll head down to the store area." He pauses at the base of the stairwell and sniffs the air. "Stay with her. This won't take long."
"Wait." Her mouth drops open. "Why? Did he see something?" Stress lines etch the corners of her eyes, and an emerging scent of rising fear grows around her.
"No. Logan just likes to be thorough." Glancing around, he takes in the sitting parlor. "Did you and your uncle live alone? Here in the store?"
"Yeah. The lower level consists of the bookstore and the restoration shop. The kitchen and bedrooms are upstairs." She nibbles on her lower lip. "Uncle Hugo's the only family I have, well, that I had."
A swirling scent of sadness surrounds her, replacing the receding fear.
"I'm truly sorry for your loss."
"Thanks." Fidgeting, she skims a hand across a shelf full of books, ensuring they're all lined to perfection.
After several tense minutes, Logan returns. "All clear."
Aden grabs his billfold, then hands her a business card.
"I'll return in the morning." He hates to leave her, but he has questions that he needs answers to, and he can obtain them once he makes a few phone calls.
"You'll what?" Confusion furrows her brows.
"Breakfast. I'll be here at eight." His inner gargouille listens to the steady beat of her heart. "Unless you have other plans." He eyes her. "Do you have other plans?"
"Um, no."
His direct words caught her off guard, which makes him grin.
"Good. Then I'll see you in the morning, and we can talk then. But if you need anything before then, call my cell, regardless of the time. Understand?"
A single nod is the only response he gets.
- Writer
