[Perspective: Aryan Spencer]
"Aryan..."
Her voice echoed slightly in the opulent restaurant.
We were sitting opposite each other, our half empty wine glasses catching the amber glow.
Wanda tilted her head, her eyes looking at me.
"If I were a doll... would you still love me?" she asked.
I reached across the table, covering her hand with mine. Her skin felt cold like porcelain, but I ignored it.
"Of course," I said, my voice sincere. "You are everything to me, Wanda. Doll, human, or anything in between. It doesn't matter."
She smiled. But the smile stretched too far, pulling at the corners of her mouth in a way that defied natural anatomy.
The amber light from the chandelier suddenly flickered, plunging the restaurant into a sickly yellow, and then into a suffocating grey.
"And what..." Wanda's voice dropped an entire octave. It layered over itself, echoing with a demonic distortion. "...if I am the dead Wanda you left behind?"
Thick black smoke began to seep from her pores. It poured out of her skin like ink bleeding into water, curling into the air and swallowing the light.
Her eyes turned completely pitch black. The black aura expanded violently, cracking the plaster on the restaurant walls.
The table between us snapped in half.
She lunged forward through the black smoke…
I gasped, my entire body violently jerking as I tore myself out of the dream.
My eyes flew open, staring blindly at the ornate ceiling of the hotel suite in Prague.
My chest was heaving, drawing in jagged breaths of air. The sheets were twisted around my legs, damp with a sudden layer of cold sweat.
The violent jolt of my waking up shook the mattress.
Beside me, Wanda popped up instantly, her hair a messy halo in the dim morning light filtering through the heavy drapes.
"Aryan?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. She shifted closer, placing a warm hand flat against the center of my chest, feeling my racing heart. "Are you OK? Did you have a nightmare?"
I blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the shadows of the room. I glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. 7:00 AM.
I looked down at the beautiful non-demonic woman, her brow furrowed in genuine worry.
The absurdity of my subconscious mind suddenly hit me. I let out a long exhale, letting my head fall back onto the soft pillows.
"Of course, I'm fine," I said, my voice still a little raspy from sleep. I reached up to rub my eyes. "I just had a small nightmare. I dreamt someone was eating a chapati with a spoon."
Wanda stared at me for a few seconds. The tension in her shoulders melted into an expression of fond exasperation.
"Oh, come on," she groaned, lightly swatting my chest with her palm. "Stop joking in the morning. I do not think that is even physically possible to do with a flatbread."
"It was a culinary tragedy, Wanda," I maintained, placing a hand over my heart. "A massacre of cultural norms. The spoon just tore right through the dough."
She rolled her eyes, a soft smile breaking through. She shifted her weight, sitting up slightly and opening her arms wide. "Come here, you ridiculous man."
I grinned, entirely willing to comply. I rolled onto my side, scooting across the mattress to press myself into her embrace.
"Okay, mommy," I mumbled, burying my face happily into her neck.
Wanda's entire body went completely rigid. Her arms, which had been about to wrap around my shoulders, froze in mid air.
"What did you say?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.
I lifted my head slightly, resting my chin on her collarbone to look up at her face.
I widened my eyes, pulling my lips into the most innocent, and puppy dog expression I could physically muster.
"Okay, mummy?" I repeated, inflecting my voice to sound genuinely confused by her reaction.
Wanda looked down at my face. She studied my eyes, the deliberate pout of my lower lip, and the absolute lack of shame in my expression.
She opened her mouth to scold me, to tell me how incredibly inappropriate that was.
She said nothing.
Instead, a spark ignited in her eyes. She dropped her arms, her hands diving into the hair at the nape of my neck.
She yanked my head up and crashed her lips down onto mine.
It was a deep kiss that entirely obliterated my joke. She parted my lips, tasting me with an overwhelming intensity that made the blood rush straight to my ears.
I groaned, wrapping my arms tight around her waist, kissing her back with equal fervor.
When she finally pulled back, we were both breathless, the air in the bedroom suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter.
"Wow," I breathed, staring at her swollen lips. "You are so proactive today."
"Not because of your words," she stated firmly, her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of crimson as she tried to maintain her dignity. "Do not think that worked."
"Of course not," I grinned, shifting my weight and sitting up on the edge of the bed. I turned and scooped her up into my arms in one swift motion, lifting her entirely off the mattress. "Let's get up, mommy. We have a long drive ahead of us today."
"Aryan!" she squealed, slapping my shoulder as I marched us toward the en suite bathroom. "Stop calling me that!"
"I am just respecting the hierarchy," I laughed, kicking the bathroom door open.
I set her down gently on the cold marble floor.
I reached for the toothpaste, squeezing a neat line onto her pink brush and handing it to her, before preparing my own blue one.
Wanda spit into the sink, rinsing her mouth with a handful of water. "Are we actually driving all the way to Germany?"
"We are," I said, grabbing a towel to wipe my face. "It's a road trip. Road trips build character."
We turned on the massive rainfall shower, stepping under the scalding hot water together.
I took the bottle of jasmine body wash, squeezing a generous amount onto a sponge.
Wanda turned, her wet auburn hair plastered down her back.
I took my time, gently washing her shoulders, her back, letting the sponge glide over her skin. She leaned back into my chest, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
"You are very thorough for a man in a hurry," she murmured, tipping her head back to rest on my shoulder.
"I am a doctor," I reminded her, kissing her temple. "I believe in hygiene and proper circulation."
When we finally stepped out, the bathroom mirror was completely fogged over.
We dried off, wrapping ourselves in the thick hotel robes, and walked back into the bedroom to change.
"Comfortable clothes today," I advised, pulling a pair of dark jeans and a grey cashmere sweater from my suitcase. "We are going to be sitting in a car for a few hours."
Wanda nodded, rummaging through her open luggage.
She pulled out a pair of black leggings and an oversized knit sweater in a soft beige color. She slipped it on, the hem falling halfway down her thighs.
"Is this acceptable?" she asked, smoothing the fabric down.
"You look adorable and ready to conquer the highway," I confirmed, slipping into my own sweater.
I picked up the room phone from the bedside table and hit the button for room service.
"Yes, good morning," I said when the operator answered. "Room 702. We would like to order breakfast. Two black coffees, a pot of English Breakfast tea, a basket of assorted croissants and pastries, and two orders of Eggs Benedict, please."
"Right away," the voice replied.
"Food is on the way," I announced, hanging up the phone. "Now, we pack."
PS: We need only 79 more Power Stones for another bonus chapter.
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