Chapter 6-(Amaranth POV)-A Man Called Echoe




As I came to, I became aware of the flickering light of candles. Ah, that was why there were such strange shadows in the rafters . . .
I began to stir, and then felt something, no, perhaps heard, but . . .
There was something in my room besides me.
I went still, and then closed my eyes before falling back onto the pillows, breathing in the scent of cloves from the bowl on my bedside table. I let my senses branch out, feeling the area and space with invisible fingers. It took a few moments longer than I had hoped; my hand was throbbing like nothing imaginable. I must have cracked the knuckles at the very least. I breathed out. Rafters. Above and to the right.
I opened my eyes slightly, letting them adjust to the dim light, and then in a dizzying whirl of blankets, I sat up and glared accusingly at the form at my ceiling. I couldn't keep my heart from jumping as I saw the primal gleam of white teeth as the hunched shadow hissed.
Oh, sweet Nature. How could I have forgotten?
I forced myself to calm.
"And what is your business here in my quarters, cat?" I murmured, careful not to startle the eerie thing again. The memory of that single jade eye was haunting me, actually making me feel fear.
He hissed again before speaking. When he did, his voice was gravelly and filled with rancor. "You have power. That old one will not undo the spell."
I shivered as he his eyes gleamed unnaturally in the darkness above.
He growled again, low in his throat, as if he could smell my dread. "You can change me back."
I hesitated before answering. "I'm so sorry, but . . . I can't."
He went rigid. "What?" He leapt from the rafters, landing at my feet clumsily, and so heavily that I could feel the walls shake with the impact.
Unconsciously, I drew my injured hand to my chest. His eyes followed that motion, taking quick note of it.
He looked positively demonic, with that long, wild hair of his, falling all in his moon-pale face; the contrast made him seem all the more unnatural. It was clear to see that its length bothered him as well, because he continually flicked and rolled his head, as if to get a better view. His iridescent eyes were narrowed into thin daggers as he examined me much as I was him.
He was a little short-barely taller than I was-but lithe and sinewy, with slight inelegance due to the difference in his bones and shape. I let my eyes flow over him slowly. He had a straight-arrow nose between two wide, exotic eyes, and though his lip was curled with malice, it looked as if it suited his face to utter flawlessness. It was easy to see that he had become one of the handsome men; with an overall perfection about him, which masked his animal side. Or perhaps only gave it more pronounciation. My gaze flickered down. Cosmas had given him pants, at least. Or he had found them lying in the dirty laundry outside.
It seemed as if he were done sizing me up, because he moved suddenly, his fingers grabbing my throat and squeezing just enough to make it uncomfortable. I should have expected this; I really should have, with my previous experience with frantic and desperate males. I choked with surprise nonetheless, as his eyes plowed into mine with acidic venom.
"Free me," he snarled. I flinched, struggling with his grip. "I can't even stand the way I smell, let alone your stench! Free me from this shape or I will break your scrawny neck!"
"I . . . can't." I gasped. I closed my eyes. I'd been choked by one of the previous fiancés before, and recalling that memory only added to the icy sweat that was trickling down my spine. That one had nearly got the best of me, then. "I can only help . . . I can't . . . change you to cat."
His hand tightened for an instant before releasing me. With an animalistic growl, he hunched on the ground again before jumping onto the mattress beside me, only to stare at me intensely from close perimeters. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion. He leaned closer, his nose touching my brow as he sniffed. Then, with a snarl he tossed his head.
"You stink like herbs. Damn you."
I tensed further, holding my hand as it ached with the slowing pulse of my heart. "I can't do anything about my scent, either." I muttered.
"But you have power," he repeated. "I can feel it in you." His nostrils flared as he drew at the air deeply, rolling his head back before curling his lip in what must have been nausea. "I can smell it, it's so strong. You are powerful; use your power."