Hearts of Darkness by Kira Brady Page A

remember the questions.
    He led her to the bar. Two stools suddenly opened up in front of them. He swept out his hand to offer her a seat. She took it. He swiped a gold box from behind the counter and offered it to her. “Chocolate?”
    â€œNo thank you.”
    â€œOne can never have too much chocolate.”
    She bit into a piece. She hadn’t remembered accepting any.
    â€œAre you familiar with the story of Persephone?” Norgard was beautiful, but cold. His skin seemed to shimmer beneath the lights, almost as if it were made of a million tiny scales.
    â€œGreek girl kidnapped by Hades.” Her eyes were drawn to him. She watched the muscles of his neck swallow, the skin shimmering as it shifted. A little voice urged her not to take another piece of chocolate, but her brain was slow. She was swimming through molasses. The lights were brighter, yet the room was darker too. Besides, she was starving. She took a heart-shaped piece. “Delicious.”
    â€œI am so glad you think so.” Norgard’s smile was indulgent, like a teacher praising a small child. “Yes, the Greek god fell in love with her and made her queen of the underworld.”
    She’d pleased him, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to please him again. Something was wrong with that thought. Struggling to remember, she refused another piece of chocolate. “I don’t think Persephone had a choice in the matter.”
    â€œOh, but she did. She chose to eat some pomegranate seeds, which sealed her fate. Six months in the underworld as queen, and six months with, God help her, her mother. Personally”—Norgard leaned in conspiratorially—“I believe she was happier with Hades.”
    Every bit of Norgard’s ten-kilowatt smile was aimed in her direction. His left eye, blindingly sky blue—like Paul Newman’s—with a strangely oblong iris, was set on her and only her. She could almost feel his gaze rake over her arms and breasts and legs, until she felt naked and very desirable. Under his attention, her plain jeans and borrowed shirt turned into silk and lace. The silk and lace seemed to slide away, until she could have sworn she was naked.
    She giggled.
    She never giggled. Somehow she felt free, giddy even. All the pain she had been carrying around with her for the past two days suddenly lifted. Her soul flitted in her chest, light and buoyant. She wanted to laugh out loud.
    Why shouldn’t she? She was young and alive. Desi couldn’t laugh anymore. So Kayla laughed for her. Kayla would have to live for her too; from now on she would really live. She would not be scared to flirt and laugh out loud. She would be wild and carefree.
    She caught a flash of something speculative in Norgard’s eye. Calculating. Despite her happy haze, she shivered. There was something she should remember. Someone she should remember.
    Norgard put his arm around her, and she snuggled into his side. “You smell so good.”
    The crowd parted in front of them like they were royalty. His arm clasped her. Tight. Possessive. She didn’t have to put much weight on her own legs; he practically carried her through the parlor. She couldn’t bring herself to care.
    She felt too good. Full of chocolate. At ease for the first time in forever. On the arm of a handsome, charming man who looked at her like she was the only woman in the world.
    He must love her.
    Where had that thought come from? Her brain struggled beneath the thick spiderwebs that caged it. “Where are we going?” she asked as he brought her through the back door. She didn’t want to go. Her legs wouldn’t stop walking.
    â€œMore chocolate?”
    â€œGee, Norgard, you really know the way to a woman’s heart.”
    â€œSven. Call me Sven.” His voice poured into her ear and she realized he was close, so close those elegant lips were almost brushing her ear. He was tall, but not as broad as . . .