Peek a boo

All she had to do was blink and everything in her world had changed in what felt like a matter of sheer moments. Daphne Fuller liked to think she was as sane as the next person, but her misadventure forced her to consider her sanity. What else was she supposed to think after all? It was impossible to clear hundreds of miles in mere seconds. Monsters weren’t real. And how did she escape those dogs back at that Penthouse? Everyone she had briefly come into contact was gone. She hadn’t seen any of them since that faithful day when a man she had never seen before had sent her back to her room at the Four Seasons without any warning. The petite brunette was never one to overindulge with alcohol and yet she had to assume that she was intoxicated and merely imaging the events that had taken place. That night she had taken a long, hot bath in an attempt to relax her tense muscles. Whoever said the city of Los Angeles was laid back did not know what they were talking about. When she considered her escape, she should never have chosen the city of angels. She must have been out of her mind as she was tempted to fly back home on the first flight out of here.

After lingering in the tub for an hour, the enchantress had come to a sound decision. She would leave first thing in the morning. A smirk managed to curl on her perfectly painted lips. That’s exactly what she would do and packing wouldn’t be a problem. Her home was in New York and while she had left the big apple to avoid the omen of her dream, it had followed her here. There was nothing for her here, everyone she knew or considered a friend was on the opposite side of the country. While she was always one for adventure or risk, the situation here was way over her head. They all thought she had powers, what powers? Those things attacking them could have simply been in pain; it didn’t necessarily mean she caused the pain in the first place. Deep down in the pit of her stomach she could feel something there. The ones in charged seemed to know what they were talking about. She had witnessed it all but couldn’t believe her eyes. Their powers were tangible, but no one could see that she was the one responsible for the retaliation. What was she supposed to be anyway? She heard the man at the penthouse say that boy was a conjurer. Did they all have abilities and if so why was she mistakenly assumed to have them as well? They had no real proof.

Biting down on her lower lip, she couldn’t fall asleep that night. Everything had been packed away in the suitcase she had brought with her. For the first time in a while, Daphne had been able to get out of her clothes and put on fresh ones. She signed as her head hit the pillow but her contentment wouldn’t last long. All night she had tossed and turned as her dreams haunted her. She couldn’t see the future but she could almost swear that she was seeing something. It was the same woman from before—she didn’t see her but she could feel her. By morning she had forgotten about her dreams and she was ready to check out of her hotel. The events from the past couple of days had been written off as a hallucination. When something didn’t fit in her perfect little world, she blocked it from her memory banks. It was a tool that she had learned at the orphanage. If she said it didn’t happen, it didn’t happen and those memories would never be thought of again. It was her defense mechanism and the only way she knew how to cope. Before leaving the room, she checked out with the on-screen menu as she left the card key on the coffee table sitting before the couch. Taking one last look around, everything was where it should be and she turned her back as soft footsteps carried her to the doorway. Reaching for the handle, she had made turn the brass knob and pull but the door wouldn’t budge. Raising a brow towards the heavens, she pulled again and nothing happened. Gritting her teeth as she put down her luggage, with two hands she tugged roughly at the door while it shook on the hinges. Nothing happened. A rather unladylike scream would follow as she banged on the door. “Hey! Would someone let me out!” Her flight was in and hour and a half, and the airport was only twenty minutes away. She still needed to book her flight. The palm of her hand would connect with the door barring her way, as she was about to continue her onslaught when laughter reached her ears. Stopping, she couldn’t understand why she would hear laughter. Emerald hues would turn to sitting room as they fell upon the same man who had taunted them and sent her back here. “Going somewhere?”

Daphne couldn’t believe her luck. There was no way for her to escape and he said as much. The rest had been a blur ending with a nearby lamp hurled in Xakiel’s direction. She couldn’t leave it wasn’t safe. Safe her ass—she wanted to go home! Unfortunately she had no say in the matter. “Enchanter you’re no match for me, I’m not the one you should be fighting.” Enchanter? Before she could even argue back, her and her luggage had been whisked away—to where? She didn’t know. Wherever she was it was large and empty. The next thing she knew, her foot connected with the wooden floor as she screamed out loud. Who the hell gave him the right to keep her here! Eyes narrowed and glared as she searched for any traditional exit and saw none. Unbelievable! Someone had to return eventually and she would have no choice but to wait for them. The hours rolled by and in that time she had found an empty room to deposit her things, a large library filled to the brim with ancient tomes, a kitchen, training room, and all sorts of amenities available to her. If she was going to be here for a while she might as well make use of her time. While in the extensive library she discovered a peculiar book. Drawn to it, fingertips caressed the faded emerald inscription on the binding as she drew it out. It was very old and it contained a family tree drafted on the inside cover. The last few names to be added to the chart had been around her age, one in particular stood out. Lorelei. Where had she heard that name before? Without a second thought, she cradled the book out of the library and left it in the room she had deemed as she own.

Time ticked slowly by but she had taken use of the fully equipped training room. Back in New York she had spent some of her free time teaching a few kickboxing classes at the local gym. It had been quite some time since she had been able to work out herself. After an hour workout and a run on the elliptical she was drenched from head to toe in her sports bra and fitted black legging that hugged every curve. Dabbing the towel against her face, she walked back to her room as she took liberty of the shower. She couldn’t recall how long she had been pent up there but her exhausted limbs were no indication. A shower sounded perfect as she kicked off her sneakers to the side of the floor while making her way towards the bathroom. Time seemed to stop as the drops of water slid down her exposed flesh. Breathing in deeply, she had managed to work off her frustration to the point where the afternoon events were the furthest thing from her mind. Long dark locks were soaked as her fingers massaged her scalp. In the distance a muffled sound of a door shutting could be heard. Freezing in place, her head whipped around to the closed glass door as she fought to listen to see if there was someone out there. Turning off the faucet, she listened but her nothing. Carefully sliding the glass door open, a delicate hand reached out for the oversized towel as she wrapped it securely around her petite form. She tucked in one end of the towel before draining the wet strands of her hair. Gingerly stepping out of the shower, she pressed her ear to the door. She heard a rustling of sheets as curiosity had overtaken her. Without a second thought to her lack of attire, she threw open the bathroom door causing light to flood into the dark room. Pressing the towel to her chest, she squinted her eyes as she tried to peer into the darkness. A large form was sprawled out on her bed as her bare feet crossed the carpeted floor. “You’re on top of my clothes.” Her voice raised over the silence as her foot tapped against the floor, glaring down at her unknown visitor.

The enchantress didn’t recognize him at first and yet something seemed familiar about him. Whether it was the way his muscles flexed as he pushed himself up or the way his hair had a natural chaos about it, she wasn’t sure. It was common knowledge that Daphne Fuller never revisited any of her old one-night stands; she rarely came across them for a second time. Jason Price had been one of the few who had been burned into the depths of her memory banks. At the end of the night all of them were turned away or she would leave without looking back. No man had ever been brought back to her apartment, which was one line she never crossed. While she didn’t have a care as to who she slept with, she never allowed any of them to enter her personal space. It was a little quirk she had and it was how she was able to operate like this for so long. Daphne had no intention of ever seeing any of them afterwards—they had one chance to make something of it and that was it. There was no awkwardness, no bar of commitment, no need to call afterwards. While her reputation could be deemed as a slut, no one ever labeled her as one. Her dealings were kept private and after the fact her conquests were easily forgotten. She was a New York legend so to speak—the rush, the thrill had been enough to feed her need for danger with the bounds of control.

The enchanter picked the man or woman, the place, the time, the where—true they usually approached her first, but she could easily brush off anyone that didn’t meet her par. She allowed them to pursue her, which meant she always kept the ball in her court. While Jason had been just another one of them, there was something different about him. Outside the fact he had been one of her last, before she left for Los Angeles, he had intrigued her. Her life never got old but the thrill had progressively died down. She never felt a need to see any of them for a second time and yet, she had lingered just a little longer. He had managed to snatch control from her for just a moment—it hadn’t lasted long. It didn’t mattered though; she would never see him again, especially since he was probably back in New York. After that faithful night, she never thought of him again, which was mostly due to the rampant disorder her life had become. Everything happened within a blink of an eye. She was seeing things she never thought to be real and she supposedly had these all-powerful abilities at her disposal. It was no wonder she hadn’t immediately recognized him, the lights were dim after all—the only light pouring in from the bathroom she had just vacated. Under the circumstances, it wouldn’t be the first time she come across a man sleeping in a bed; only this time is was the bed she temporarily deemed as her own. Her clothes had been left strewn across the sheets and were now victim to his dead weight.

While her slight annoyance had been warranted, Daphne could now find out the answers she had been left with. Where she was and how to get out had been on the top of her list. The man had been the first person she had come into contact with since the asshole had literally dumped her there. Unfortunately for her one whiff and she could smell the alcohol reeking off of him. Absolutely unbelievable as she shook her head while attempting to free her wrinkled clothes. Lithe fingers held on to the delicate material, as she would try to tug them free and manage her towel that was slipping from her grip. His groan would be the only sign he was alive and not passed out until he slowly pushed himself up. Once on his side she was able to snatch them back. Shaking out the wrinkles, her attention had been turned away from his confusion. She hadn’t seen the shock on his face but she had heard the amusement lingering in his tone, one that sparked a memory. There was a familiarity there that she didn’t immediately recognize. With a brow raised, she glanced over her shoulder to find warm chocolate eyeing her petite form longingly. About to open her mouth her olive hues went wide. “You?!? What are you doing here?” The surprise was evident; she hadn’t expected to see him of all people. Charming as ever, he was just how she remembered him. Snapping her jaw shut she would resemble her composer as she pushed her shoulders back with what dignity she could muster in just a towel. By nature she was very confident, as she had no qualms standing before someone practically naked and dripping wet. A small smirk curled at the corners of her lips as she held on to the edge of her towel. “Take a mental note, the image won’t last. Realize your mistake now?”

His bewilderment was apparent as his gaze darted around the room. She was scrutinized; he hadn’t figured out who she was. While he dressed himself she would reappraise the familiar lines of his chest as she took in the image he presented while he shrugged into his shirt. “So it seems, odd place to run into you Jason.” It was obvious she had remembered him; there was no point in denying the previous relationship. He was exactly how she remembered him, only this time they had met under different circumstances—there was no pretense. Moving her weight from one foot to the other, she hadn’t moved to change into the clothes she had laid out. Confusion was etched on her features as he rambled on. He assumed she was supposed to be there. Domain, training—he was starting to sound like those people back at the penthouse. She didn’t understand what he talking about. Unconsciously she took a step back from him in an almost defensive manner. “What the hell are you talking about?” Her annoyance was starting to show. As he stumbled without a thought she held out a hand to catch him and stabilize him. Stepping into his fall, his hand had accidentally grazed her covered breast. “I’m sure.” Sighing, she helped to right him. “As you’ve concluded it’s not. But perhaps you can explain to me exactly what is going on here.” How had he become tangled in this mess? What was his connection to all this? Questions raced through her mind as her impatience was growing. Daphne hadn’t received answers before, but now she wanted them. She didn’t believe she had any powers, so what was the real reason? Enchanter domain? A flashback of her previous conversation was rendered—he had called her Enchanter but she hadn’t understood the meaning. “What’s as enchanter?” If it wasn’t obvious before it should have been obvious now. “The asshole who dropped me here had called me an enchanter.” Her attention turned towards her suitcases. Letting her leave? She was a prisoner here with no tangible way out. Every muscle in her body was tensed. She was starting to gain the impression that he was just as crazy as everyone else. A hesitant chuckle could be heard as she backed away towards the bathroom with her hand held out. “I don’t have powers, I was thrown in here. All I want to do is go home but I’m not allowed to.”

Turning on her heel, she entered the bathroom leaving the door open. With some frustration she dropped the towel to the floor as she reached for the dark locks while ringing out the excess water in her hair. Twisting the ponytail around in a French twist, she secured it with a thick clip. Black flannel pants and a sports bra would be slipped on. “I could say the same about you…” And that was the truth. In a big city like New York, chances of running into someone were slim to none. Running into someone in another state on the opposite side was near to impossible. Pointing towards her suitcase, she directed him there. “Side pocket in the cosmetic bag.” Her gaze lingered on his reflection in the mirror as she stretched her arms above her head. “Do you honestly believe in all this?” She had turned and stood in the doorframe while leaning against the wood. He had seemed rather intelligent, why would a sane man take them at their word? How could someone believe in something they couldn’t physically see? Jason was her only source of information and he could very well be her only ticket out of there. Their continued acquaintance, while not part of her usual routine, would have to do. Despite the fact that they only lasted one act, Daphne simply acted like her usual self. This was a chance to see him in a different light, even if she hadn’t intended to—their second act was only just beginning. .