Chapter 7: Haunted dreams

Zoe:

It didn’t take me long to get home. Thankfully, the bus showed up on time, and I was able to escape Azazel’s enticing presence. Bree meets me at the door as soon as I get home. I try not to laugh at her messy bun and Minnie Mouse pajamas. She looks like a little girl.

“Hey, how did your night working at the new club go?” She asks with an innocent air. Dropping down my handbag into the floor, I move towards the couch and collapse in exhaustion. “It was fine,” I say, not giving any further details. Bree pouts, sits down with her elbow on the backrest, and her feet under her. “Did you see any of the hot gladiators fight?” I roll my eyes and shake my head in amusement. “Is that why you’re up at three in the morning? You weren’t waiting for me. You were waiting for details. Shame on you.” I utter with a snicker.

She grimaces in chagrin but doesn’t deny it. Instead, she smacks my shoulder and waggles her eyebrows. “Come on, Zoe, give me something. All I do is stamp books all day.” She says with a whiny tone. I stare ahead, trying to think of a good response, then I remember. “Well, there was a new guy. You should have seen him. He was gorgeous. Tall, muscular, and pale with ebony hair that falls to his shoulders. I think Sahara is going to make him a fighter too.” Bree squeals in excitement. “Ooh, he sounds hot. I wish I could have seen him.”

Her eagerness diminishes, and she asks, “Did Sahara ask you to sing?” I shake my head, feeling my stomach plummet. “No, she hasn’t. Either way, I wouldn’t.” We both sit there quietly for a few seconds, lost in our own thoughts. Unfortunately, my thoughts return to Azazel and our shared kiss. My thoughts feel muted, though. Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion overtakes me. My body feels weak, and my mind muddled.

I look over to Bree and see her eyes glaze over with exhaustion. She raises her hand to her mouth and yawns. “I’m so tired. I’m going to bed.” I yawn in response and rise with her. “Yeah, me too. It’s been a long day.” We both barely make it to our beds before we fall into a deep sleep. However, before I fall into my slumber, I notice that Lana’s bed is empty. She must be with her best friend, Tawny.

Unfortunately, my sleep is not very restful. This time I don’t dream about a gorgeous man with beautiful golden hair and rich amber eyes. No, it’s the same nightmare as before. This time I’m not in my bed. I’m out on the street, and I’m running from the glowing mist. I dream of it catching me and clawing me until my body is nearly in shreds. Even in sleep, I can feel the life draining out of me. I look at my dying body to see my lifeblood being drained. Terror and fascination fuse in my mind as I watch my blood turn into a pulsating red and black light while it streams out of my body. In my dream, I try to pull my failing body away from this soul-sucking mist, but it’s hopeless. Eventually, the pain is too severe, and I fall into a deep obsidian nothingness.

It’s Friday morning, and I feel like I was hit by a truck. My body aches with fever, and I feel sluggish. I can barely get up from my bed. I feel like an old woman in her last days of Earth. Unfortunately, there is nothing that explains why I feel this way. I went to a specialist after the first two times this happened, and they could not find anything wrong. I don’t know how many tests I’ve taken that have come out normal. The professionals are stumped. One of the doctors just thinks that it’s a mental imbalance and prescribed energy supplements. I tried them for a while. But I stopped taking them after I realized that I felt worse. My body felt out of control, and my heart would speed erratically.

After that, I just learned to live with it. I was resigned to the thought that I was dying of some unknown disease. All I could do was pray that something would change. That there was a solution. That is, until the day at the club. I shake my head and refuse to think of that horrible day. When it happened once more, I stopped hoping and praying. I had never felt so forsaken in my life. I realized then that I was an abomination. I mean, I was born into a life of hell where my own father hates me and wishes I was never born. My mother is a slave to a man who uses her, and I’ve had to work or fight for every little thing I want. Why should my life get any better?

I take a few deep breaths before I crawl out of my bed and stagger into the shower. It barely takes all of my energy to turn the shower faucet on. The old pipes groan as the water flows through the ancient shower head. My head pounds painfully, and my stomach roils with nausea. As careful as I can, I slip out of my pajamas and stand shakily under the spray of the shower. The water cascades down my body like a balm. I’ve found that after I have episodes like this, taking a shower helps restore some of my energy. Somehow the water rejuvenates me. I’m still not completely well, but I can function.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long. It seems to be better when I go to the beach. I will swim for hours and feel like a new woman. I love swimming on the beach. It’s the only place that I ever feel any peace. Too bad that I have school today and work at the club tonight.

I take a deep breath and lower my head to let the water droplets glide down my naked back. My hair fuses to the skin of my neck. Closing my eyes, I enjoy the silky healing comfort of the water as I lean my palms on the wall and groan. My body begins to reclaim its vibrancy soon after. The shower steam permeates the air, creating condensation over the white curtain and mirror. Sweet relief overwhelms me. I feel as if a large weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

My mind feels clear and rejuvenated, and my body feels stronger. I have mixed feelings about going back to the club tonight. So far, I’ve been able to avoid Sahara and Azazel’s table for the past few days. Unfortunately, Sahara is throwing a party for all of her business associates tonight, and she plans to introduce her new gladiators. After the way I left things with Azazel the other night, I don’t know if I can handle serving him. Especially if he’s flirting with Sahara. I’m resolved to pretend that it never happened, though. Even though my mind screams out to me that I’m being obtuse. I just can’t afford to feel something for this man. He’s too potent and tempting to all of my senses for it to not be dangerous.

My energy is at a respectable level by the time I get to work. Every guest is dressed as if they’re going to a ball. I feel even more self-conscious because I have to wear a sheer white toga and high-heeled gladiator sandals this time. Fortunately, I haven’t run into Azazel. I guess I should be happy for that mercy if it weren't for the fact that I haven’t seen Sahara either.

Unfortunately, I can feel the little bit of energy I received from my shower waning. My body trembles as I pass the microphone near the stage. I can feel my control slipping. The urge to go up to the stage and sing is too tantalizing. Every part of my body wants to jump in front of it and play a song. I can almost taste all of the power it would give me. However, that power comes with dangerous repercussions. I will never forget what happened the last time. I just don’t understand why this is happening. It was never like that before.

I shake my head, trying to clear my dark thoughts. I just can’t go there again. Thankfully, remembering what happened the last time I sang, my ardor wanes. There’s no other option than to take a deep breath and get through the next few hours as everyone drinks and talks excitedly. The room goes still when a loud gong resounds around the room. Everyone turns to the stage and gazes towards the velvet curtains as they open, revealing Sahara. She’s wearing a long pink mermaid gown. It’s tight and low-cut. I can almost see her nipples.

What makes the knot in my stomach tighten, though, is the sight of Azazel standing next to her. They’re standing close together, and her arm is wrapped around his forearm. He’s wearing a black tuxedo, snow-white shirt, and bowtie. He looks like a GQ model, and they look like a couple. Sahara steps forward and takes the microphone in her hand. “Welcome, everyone. Thank you for coming to Galea. It’s our pleasure to introduce to you our new gladiators and give you an up-close look at how they fight. First, I will introduce you to our new headlining champions.” She ushers Azazel forward and holds his hand up proudly over his head. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s a pleasure to introduce you to Azazel Dark.” The crowd enthusiastically applauds Azazel’s introduction. Some of the women yell out cat-calls and whistles.

Azazel doesn’t preen, though. Instead, he gives the crowd a humble bow and steps away from the spotlight. Sahara’s smile dims, but she doesn’t let him go. Then she turns around and gestures to an awaiting figure standing behind her. The dark man that was sitting with them the other night steps forward without a smile. Sahara introduces him next. “I’d also like to introduce our new gladiator Fallon Devlin.” Unlike Azazel, he doesn’t take Sahara’s offered arm. He simply moves to the front of the stage and gives the crowd a formal bow. The crowd stands there gaping as if mesmerized by him. I can see why. He is even more stunning in a tuxedo. Sahara takes him by the hand and stands between both men with an arrogant grin. “Most of you have come here before and seen our spectacular matches. All of our gladiators will be around to demonstrate any moves or answer any of your questions. For now, let’s have some drinks and enjoy the show.”

The crowd applauds before they disburse around different parts of the room to drink and mingle. I make to move towards the other end of the room in hopes of avoiding Sahara and her gladiator entourage. However, I can't help but glance over in her direction once in a while. Unfortunately, every time I look over, I see Sahara and Azazel talking intimately.

That’s when realization settles in the pit of might stomach. Now I understand what Azazel meant about focusing on being a gladiator. It's obvious that he'd need someone like Sahara to help him. What use would he have with a poor maid’s daughter? Once again, Sahara wins. She has money, beauty, and connections—none of which I have.

Lethargy makes my movements clumsy. For a moment there, I had forgotten about my exhausted state. However, as I move around the room, I begin to feel lightheaded and stumble slightly with the tray in my hand. I almost land on my face when a pair of muscular arms set me straight. “Are you okay?” A rich male voice whispers in my ear. I turn around and face him. He's about my age with rich brown hair and chocolate eyes. He’s also about six feet tall and muscled. Definitely not a bad looking guy.

Humiliated by my clumsiness, I pull away from his hand and mutter. “I'm fine. Sorry about that.” He has dimples is all I can think about when he gives me a sweet smile and places his hands in his pants pockets before he leans close and says, “No need to apologize. It's not every day that I get to catch a beautiful woman in my arms.”

My heart flutters slightly. His words are like a balm to my pride after what Azazel said to me. I lick my lips and run my eyes over his finely shaped body. He's wearing a dark charcoal suit with a white shirt and a blue tie. He’s definitely the kind of guy that I would date. Taking the tray from my hand, he places it on a nearby table and turns back around to offer me his hand. I don’t argue because I’m still feeling weak. “I’m Gabe.” He states gently. I shake his hand with a shy smile. “I'm Zoe.”

We both stand there with our hands entwined for another moment. His hand is warm and firm. I pull away after a moment and gesture to the people circling around the room. “Do you like gladiator matches, Gabe?” He nods his head and moves closer. “Actually, I do. I find them interesting. But to be honest, I’m considering being an investor. How about you? Thinking of investing too?”

My face heats with humiliation. “Look, I don’t know who you are. But I really don’t appreciate your mockery. I may be a servant, but I have pride.” I say defensively. Gabe’s eyes widen at the realization of his words. He holds his palms up imploringly and sputters out. “No, no. I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I’m such an ass. I’m sorry.”

I can tell that he’s sincere in his apology. “It’s okay, Gabe. Let’s just forget about it. I guess I’m just a little oversensitive.” He sighs in relief and bites his lower lip. “You’re very gracious, Zoe. Is it…can I call you sometime?” He asks with a charming smile.

I’m about to answer when another voice interrupts my response. “I apologize for interrupting your tete-a-tete Gabe, but Mrs. Dawson has asked me to inform you that we will be reconvening to the ring in a few moments, and she wishes for you to sit with her.” Gabe looks at Azazel then turns back to me with an apologetic smile. “Duty calls. Perhaps we can talk later?” He asks with a hopeful look. I try not to look at Azazel when I answer. “Sure. Yeah. I’ll be around.” Gabe’s lips quirk animatedly, and he walks away.

To my dismay, Azazel doesn’t follow him. He simply remains standing there in contemplation. I had never felt so awkward in my life. Feeling nervous, I try to look everywhere else and turn to pick up the tray, but his scornful words stop me. “Looks like you have an admirer, luv. It must be your charming uniform.” He says, gesturing to my toga dress with derision.

Irritation wells up inside me at the irony of his words. I turn back to him with a defensive glare and mutter through clenched teeth. “Go to hell, Azazel!” Without another word, I turn around, take the tray, and walk away. I want to lash out at something. How dare he say that to me? I wipe at a stray tear as I make my way to the locker room and slam the door behind me hard. A moment later, the door opens behind me, and a hand wraps around my waist, pulling me into a hard chest. “Forgive me.” He whispers in my ear, huskily. I turn my head and look at him from over my shoulder. He looks contrite. I can see the instant regret in his eyes, and it softens me. I turn around and come face to face with him. Our noses touch lightly as I huskily whisper. “What do you want from me, Azazel?”

He doesn’t respond at first. Instead, he raises his hand and caresses it down my jaw. “Do you know how badly I want to rip that dress from you, luv? I go from wanting to kill every man who gawks at you to wanting to gaze into your beautiful eyes all night.”

As he comes closer, my lips tingle and my body shudders. I look into his lust-hazed eyes and feel myself weakening further. What is it about this man that makes me lose all control? I don’t let him see it, though. I simply pull back and give him my coldest glare. “What makes you think I would do that for you?” He scoffs arrogantly. “Because I know you want me. That kiss from the other night proves it.” I want to smack him right across his arrogant face when he gives me a knowing leer. “Did you forget already that you kissed me, luv?” He says with a cocky smile.

I move forward with a raised brow. “No, and I also didn’t forget that you told me you weren’t interested.” Azazel shakes his head, looking contrite. “It was foolish of me to say that, luv. I’m so used to women throwing themselves at me that I’m wary.” My eyebrows quirk in astonishment. “Seriously? How conceited can you be?” Azazel gives me an arrogant smile. “I'm not, luv. I'm honest.” A disbelieving snort escapes my lips. “Well, I’m not that kind of girl, so you can relax because you and I will never happen. You’re hot and powerful, and you know it. It’s a total turn-off.”

He smiles at my confession. “I can’t wait to fuck you, luv.” I place my hand over my hip. “And I can’t wait to tell you to fuck off.” He moves closer, running his hand caressingly down my arm. “Why don’t you do it now then?”

I slap his hand, taking a step back. “I thought that was implied,” I say before I turn around and walk away.

Azazel doesn’t seem to believe my bravado because he reaches for me again, turns me around, and slams his mouth against mine. The kiss is as mind-blowing as the one from the other night. My hands wrap around his neck, caressing the soft hairs behind his ears. Our breaths mingle as our mouths fuse together desperately. It’s as if the blazing need from the other night never vanished. Our hands roam hungrily as our tongues brush and swirl in a sensual dance.

I claw my fingers down my chest as his hands travel up my thighs to lift my dress. A shudder moves down my spine from the heat of his body. Unfortunately, fate conspires against us again. We pull apart when there’s a loud knock on the door. “Zoe, it’s me, Christoph. Are you in there? We need you out here.” I look at Azazel, who glares daggers at the door. “I have to go,” I whisper softly. Azazel nods and steps away from the door. Before he steps out, he takes my hand and says, “All jesting aside, we need to talk, Zoe. Let me give you a ride home.” I look down at our entwined hands and hesitantly nod. I know that I should tell him, no, but there’s something about him that makes me feel that he's sincere. Plus, I want to know what it is he wants to talk about. “Okay. I get out at three.” I utter as I reluctantly pull my hands from his. With one last lingering look, he turns and walks out the door.

I straighten my dress and step out a moment later. Christoph is still standing there with his mouth gaping open. His eyes lock on Azazel’s form until he disappears from sight, then he turns to me. “Are you and he...?” He points towards Azazel’s direction, then back at me. I don’t answer, which in turn gives him the answer he’s looking for. “You do know that Sahara has the hots for him, don’t you?” He asks with a pitying frown. Before I can respond, he raises his palm up and mutters urgently, “You know what? Forget it. I don’t want to know. Just don’t let Sahara find out. She can make your life hell if she thinks you took something she wanted. As for me…” He says, laying a palm over his chest and leans towards me with a wicked grin. “…I say, good for your girl. That man is scrumptious. And don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul.” I chuckle when he pretends to lock his mouth and throw away the key.

I don’t know how to respond. So I simply nod my head and walk back to the club. As the night comes to a close, I come to the realization that I no longer feel the crippling exhaustion I had felt earlier. In fact, my exhaustion mysteriously vanished after Azazel kissed me. It’s as if I got an energy boost. I can’t explain it. And I don’t know if I want to.