Graveyard Watchman (Book 1)

Chapter 65

Stepping through the door I glance back and pause, waiting for Dominic to pull it shut. Without making eye contact, he turns and quickly walks past me—his cloak swishing around his body like a second skin. The hope that I could say I'm sorry with just a look is instantly gone as I follow closely behind, knowing from this moment on, he has the upper hand. I have no clue where we're going and I'm half wondering if he'll lead me to the wrong room just to spite me. But the dread that practically radiates from him confirms what I fought so hard for. He's taking me to Uncle John.

The long, torch-lit hallway is eerily quiet, emphasizing Dominic's gut-wrenching silence as our footsteps echo harshly off the stone floors. I catch up to him, reaching out to take his hand but stop just before our fingers touch. He's not ready; he's too upset with me. My mind races as I rehearse my apology to him over and over again while tears begin to flood my vision. But I quickly wipe away the wetness, trying to hide any trace of them. I have to stay strong. I know I can't look weak—especially to Uncle John.

Dominic glances down as if he knows I'm shaken but a second later, jerks his head forward just before we turn a corner. Stopping just a couple of feet away, I see a floor to ceiling iron gate. It's ancient, that much I'm sure of, and as he waves his hand in front, the latch somehow unlocks and we're allowed to walk through. We're several steps in when I hear the sound of metal sliding on groaning gears and my eyes flash back, watching the gate glide into its original position and lock into place.

The longer we walk the darker it gets and it's as if we're heading lower and lower underground. I can actually feel the tension emitting from Dominic when suddenly he pauses again, but this time there's a metal door just to his right. He takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes and I'm immediately aware that behind the layers of thick steel, the Demon is in there...waiting.

Dominic opens his eyes and looks down at me; his warning expression practically drips with caution. "You must not allow him to anger you. It is what he wants."

I nod, swallowing the golf ball sized lump in my throat while the sharp needles in my gut hungrily prick at my flesh. It's game time and we both know it. My hands are starting to shake but this time he reaches for them, pulling me close. His enormous arms hold me tightly and he kisses the top of my head. I pull back and look up, finally seeing the warm, forgiving eyes I begged for only minutes ago. His brows push together as if he can feel how frightened I am and he pulls me into another hug and whispers, "Te Amo."

Suddenly, I don't need a translation for his beautiful words because I know exactly what they mean. I pull myself even closer to his chest, relieved for our quick reunion as I breathe in his amazing scent. I try like hell to push back the new tears trying to force their way down my cheeks and look back up into his beautiful eyes.

"I love you, too..."