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Eva
It had been a rather slow day at the Oswald’s Mystic Antiquities shop and Evanora had already begun to count the hours until she could get back to her new apartment and climb into bed with the new fantasy novel. The last two bodies that had walked through the door were busying themselves with looking around while she intently flipped through her hardback, eager to get the conclusion she craved from the previous books cliffhanger.
When the door opened again, causing chimes to ring throughout the tiny building, she didn’t look up as she suspected the new person to casually look around just as the other two.
She didn’t hear as he walked towards her, possibly too engrossed in her character's love triangle, but soon his tall form loomed over the counter, emitting a husky men’s cologne.
“May I help you?” Her tone was indifferent, though she didn’t seem to care since the man was indeed interrupting her reading time.
It was an hour before closing, what could this man possibly want from a tiny hole in the wall antique shop in Downtown San Francisco? On a Saturday?
He didn’t speak, and the only sound in the room was the even breathing from everyone and her turning the page to read the end of her paragraph.
She felt him staring down at her, studying the face that resembled her father but with the eyes of her mother.
“I’m here to speak with your parents.” His voice was low, almost commanding, and nearly as husky as his scent with just a hint of an accent she couldn't place. “I have an appointment.”
“And may I ask your name?”
He was silent again; only this time he didn’t speak until Eva finished raking her eyes over her text and gazed up at him to nearly ask again, but she knew he had definitely heard her when she saw the slight smile in his steel eyes, not upon his lips.
He'd wanted her full attention –rightfully so–she knew she was being rude, but she'd skipped lunch to wait in the longest damn line for her book and she was hangry.
Her brothers had also skipped out on their late shifts, again, so here she was –again– staying late to cover for them. They didn't even have the courtesy to bribe her with dinner like they normally would. And the granola bar she'd found in the desk was long gone in her stomach.
And here this man was showing up at their shop, a quarter to ten, demanding to speak to her parents. Who even set appointments this late?
Okay, she was very hangry.
Once she had graced him with her attention, he answered.
“Dante,” he said simply.
She waited for him to continue and when he didn’t, she pressed for a last name. “Dante…?”
“Just, Dante.”
Now she smiled, leaning back in her seat, amused at the man’s mystery. “Alright, Just Dante. Have a seat, I will…find them.”
He nodded, though didn’t take a seat as she suggested. Instead, he continued to stand at the tall counter and watched as she set her book on the top of the glass, pages down.
When she saw his eyes drop down to the cover where a tiny human girl was being nearly ravaged by a buff and purple humanoid alien, she could have sworn there was a small smirk at the corner of his mouth.
She began to walk away, ignoring the possible judgment with thoughts of how smut was literature, too.
However, when she turned her back on him, a slight chill ran down her spine; she glanced over her shoulder once more to see if he was still standing across the desk. He was where she'd left him, not standing dangerously close as her body had warned.
Just Dante had watched as she'd left. His eyes never scanned her over like she would sometimes feel men do, but for a split second, she felt as if she’d seen his face before. It honestly wasn’t uncommon for her to mistake people given her profession. She did see a lot of faces coming in and out of the shop, but she knew she wouldn’t have forgotten this man’s face or his appearance.
His short white hair fell gently, framing his face. It ended just at his dark brows, but there was a little length at the nape of his neck. The color was a softness contrasting with the ageless wisdom that seemed to emit from his eyes even though he didn't appear any older than her brothers. Even his features, while young, just seemed to command her attention.
Despite his snowy hair, his thick brows and relatively full lashes were dark black, just like the stubble around his chin and mouth. His mouth…naturally narrow with a slightly heavier low lip…
He was quite tall; she'd noticed when she stood. He was possibly a head taller than her five foot eleven, with an almost square jawline that was kind of soft but somehow still strong at the same time? Maybe it was the dimple that added a softness.
He’d chosen to dress as if he hailed from the early eighteenth century, wearing a black double breasted suit, congress gaiters, and a stylish black tie under the collar of a crisp white button down.
His attire seemed chosen to maintain an old-fashioned sense of dignity; yet, for some bizarre reason, Evanora felt it suited him. On anyone else, it would have seemed strange or out of place, but for Just Dante it seemed to add an old, sophisticated feel.
“Evanora.” Her name came from his perfect mouth in tender amusement, snapping her out of her trance. “Your parents?”
She blanched, feeling her cheeks warm. Both in shock that he'd known her name and embarrassment at the fact she'd definitely been caught checking him out.
As if she'd never seen a handsome white boy before. Boy? Man? She wasn't good with ages, never had been, but that wasn't particularly her fault. She didn't get out much.
And the way her name rolled off his tongue…it wasn't the Spanish R but close. Italian maybe?
She tried not to knit her brows as she thought about it.
What did it matter? He didn't matter.
Shaking off the coldness that caused her to turn in the first place, she nodded and trekked forward to retrieve her parents, Richard and Aliyah Oswald, who were in the back room taking inventory for the upcoming auction.
It was a family owned shop and her parents didn’t feel the need to hire extra hands to look after the small building or host events, even though she wished they would have. Their three children, Simon and Lowell, fraternal twins, and Evanora, the youngest by six years, were more than capable of handling things, but that didn’t mean Eva wanted to be there on a Saturday night working another fourteen hour shift.
She didn’t mean to sound disrespectful. She loved her parents and her job, but lately it seemed they were becoming overbearingly overprotective –her parents– not the shop, which always bored her to tears.
They had never been so concerned with what she was doing in her spare time than they had been for the past year or so. It hadn’t gotten this bad when she reached puberty and began…filling out. She basically had to tell them to chill.
Just because she was able, didn’t mean she’d go out and sleep with the first guy she met. Which seemed to be their main concern and she didn't understand why. It wasn't as if they let her out of the house.
Her main locations were home and the shop.
Even to the point of babysitting her when she'd need to shop for new clothes as she aged. She was never alone and it made her privacy starved.
Their concerns seemed excessive. It was hard enough making friends being homeschooled and getting the attention of guys was near impossible once they saw the hypopigmented scar that covered nearly twenty five percent of her body.
She didn’t remember much from the night the fire took her family’s Victorian home, and nearly her life, but the splotched scar that stained the left side of her body was a constant reminder.
It started just below her ear in noticable tawny patches and ran the length of her shoulder to the crook of her arm. From her shoulder it traveled her back and ribs breaking apart a bit but continued down about mid-thigh.
It was a constant reminder that it hadn't been a dream. That she hadn’t dreamt of fierce sapphire blue eyes, with an equally strong grip, lifting her into his arms and rescuing her.
That night seemed to be the tipping point for her parents, making them overprotective of her of her every move.
They'd pulled her from kindergarten, probably due to shitty childrens teasing, and deciding it was best to homeschool her alone while her brothers were able to come and go as they pleased.
However, lately things had become so bad she'd resorted to lying to her family. It had taken nearly two months of finessing, telling her parents she was with the other brother when one wouldn't show for a shift. Or, for her brothers, that she was with their parents when they'd need to run errands.
She'd never snuck around before, so they didn't suspect she'd been lying, and it honestly felt invigorating to see the city on her own rather than the window of a back seat.
She'd been saving her money for a few years, which hadn't been difficult since she didn't go anywhere and she lived with her parents who provided for her. After weeks of careful determination, she'd finally gotten an apartment downtown. It was nearly fifteen minutes from the shop and a full thirty minutes from her parents home.
The boys had been able to move out when they'd turned twenty and she'd just reached two years overdue. Her parents weren’t pleased with the announcement two weeks ago, well, that was an understatement. They were actually very, very, very pissed with her for playing them all and sneaking around.
But she was a young woman; she needed to venture out on her own. She couldn’t very well live with them for the rest of her life. That’s not what they wanted, was it?
What about college, making friends, or seeing the world? Hell, she'd settle for just going to the Bay Bridge. She'd been in this city for as long as she could remember and she'd never been anywhere but Twin Peaks and SOMA.
As she made her way down the hallway she stopped her internal monologue, or spiral really, and decided that they were just looking out for her. They hadn't meant to make her a recluse. Right?
She knocked on their office door, and when their joint voices told her to enter, she turned the knob and stood in the doorway.
“Yes, baby girl?” Affection was both in her father’s tone and soft expression. He was sitting at his desk, and before she entered, he’d probably been typing away on his computer.
His dark umber hair, which was normally styled in short finger coils, twisted by his wife. But now it was more of a short, messy fro atop his head as if he’d been running his slightly wrinkled hands through it all morning.
“There’s a guy asking for you two up front.” She nodded down the hall.
Her father’s relaxed posture changed drastically as his broad shoulders tensed and his thick lips narrowed into a thin hard line. The fingers that were once relaxed, tensed into claws she didn’t know he possessed.
“Is he asking for us both? What’s he look like, baby?” Her father’s deep voice nearly shook and she stared at her parents, trying to hide her curiosity but failing.
She shrugged. “Freakishly tall, albino hair, dressed like he just stepped out of a time machine…he says his name is Dante. Just Dante.”
She smiled, remembering his frankness, until she saw her mother’s bronzy face also pale unnaturally. She had been writing in a small black booklet, but suddenly gripped the pen tightly. Her bright amber eyes seemed to darken as she looked at her husband and mimicked his nervous expression and rigid posture.
Eva knew something was up and didn’t hesitate asking what it was. It wasn't as if they kept things from each other. They lived in the same house so Eva had heard her fair share of secrets.
“Nothing,” her father confirmed tensely before he and his wife rose from their seats.
They both ran their hands over their clothes to smooth wrinkles Eva didn't see. Him over his black vest and rose red button-down shirt, and her over her beige dress that Eva vaguely remembered owning at one point. Though it did look better on her mother's thin frame.
“Tell him to come on back,” her mother instructed with a short nod, hand stroking her buzzed hair absentmindedly.
She hesitated before she complied and went to fetch Just Dante who waited impatiently. He was strumming his long fingers against the glass counter but stopped when she reentered.
Eva motioned her head for him to follow and had escorted him halfway down the hall before the phone rang at the desk upfront.
Pointing to the only open door down the hall, she directed him, then went to answer the ringing with the shop's signature line. When no one replied, she repeated the line politely, waiting, and listening. But again when no one replied, she hung up.
She debated for only a moment, looking between the two customers still browsing, before she left her station and snuck back to the hallway to see why her parents were acting so strangely.
The door was pulled up, but not shut completely, making it easier to hear their conversation. She hadn’t caught the beginning introductions and the silence in the room confused her. Then, Just Dante spoke.
She had only heard him speak a moment ago but was able to differentiate which was her father’s and which belonged to the strange white man with an unidentifiable accent in her parent’s office.
“It was very clever hiding the pendant on the neck of a virgin,” he remarked. “One who doesn’t even know her history.”
The room was silent for a moment more. She couldn’t even hear their breathing. Then, again, Just Dante spoke to end the uncomfortably annoying poison that pitted in Eva's stomach with their silence.
“You didn’t ask me to come here to listen to even breathing,” he chuckled. “You mind explaining why you’ve summoned me after all this time?”
“We need you to watch over both Evanora and the pendant.” Her father sighed. “She’s getting older and we know she’s going to have…temptation. But once she acts on them, her life…it will be in danger. They will come for the necklace. So, we're requesting your assistance to watch over it.”
“It?” Just Dante questioned.
“Them,” her mother amended. “Just until we can find someone nearly as capable to help us. A fellow Keeper.”
“She’s not a child, she doesn’t need a babysitter.”
“It’s not her we’re concerned about.” Realizing his own meaning, her father backtracked. “We love our daughter. She is the world to us. All of our children are. But you said it yourself. Her virgin blood won’t mask the scent of the pendant for much longer.
“You're right. She’s not a child anymore, so it’s in everyone’s best interest if we find someone who can watch over both of them. Just until we can find a way to explain things.”
“She’s smart.” Just Dante again.
“We know,” her parents replied in unison.
“How long do you think you can hide this from her?” It didn't sound accusatory but more amused.
The phone began to ring again and Eva jumped at its sudden distraction. She waited for them to continue the conversation, but when the phone prevented that from happening, she resisted the urge to grumble. Leaving, she slipped back down the hall to answer the incessant ringing.
After speaking with a man about his late package for a couple of minutes, she hung up just in time to see Dante coming from the back room.
Their eyes locked and he gave her a sexy smile while he walked past her. Her already rapid heartbeat thumped louder within her ears.
She was certain she’d stopped breathing, and when he exited the building, it was a moment before she exhaled in a huff.
She was confused, very confused.
What did they mean she was in trouble? She’d never stirred the pot, never caused any problems, and now…what? What was coming after her?
No, not her. The necklace her mother had told her to watch over.
Placing her hand to the sapphire crystal hanging from her neck, she thought about how strange her parents had been acting lately.
When her mother came into the room and touched Eva’s arm, she jumped, causing the older woman to snort at her daughter’s reaction.
“Eva, baby, is everything alright?” Her mothers tone wasn’t condescending, but truly inquisitive as her hands hovered over Eva's arms.
However, Eva knew her own tone was.
“Is it?” she asked, looking at her mother questioningly. “Is everything alright?”
There was a slight hesitation that her mother didn’t think she caught. The fake smile on her mothers lips was not in her amber eyes. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Who was the man?” She posed a question with another question, knowing it was one of her mothers pet peeves. She found it disrespectful, like back talk, but Eva didn't back down like she normally would.
There was another hesitation, and Eva knew her mother was about to lie to her again. She could see it in the slight twitch of her amber eyes, in the worried wrinkles that formed in her forehead, and the way she placed her hands over her flat stomach. All tells that she was stressing over something. But Eva wasn’t sure why.
“No one important.” Her mother shrugged not meeting her gaze but letting it wander across the room to the merchandise. “Just a possible prospective client. Will you be coming over for a late dinner?”
She stared at her mother’s docile expression and nodded feebly, noting how quickly she'd changed the conversation. “Will Si and Lo be there?”
Her mother thought for a moment. “Probably. We still have leftovers.”
Good, if her brothers would be there then maybe she could get a truthful answer from them.
However, when the shop closed and her parents lifted her to their home of twelve years, her brothers were not there. Still, that didn’t stop Eva from asking once more.
This time while her mother was showering, Eva asked her father who was in the kitchen. But he dismissed her question just as easily, if not easier, than her mother had.
While his excuse for the man’s meeting had been different from her mothers, it was still vague. She wanted answers. Or did she?
Was she just being crazy? Paranoid?
Yes, that was it. She'd been reading too much fantasy. She was just being paranoid about the whole thing. She’d misunderstood their context and now she was just…what? Looking for trouble?
No, not seeking trouble exactly…
She thought about this during the walk home. When her parents had offered her a ride, she declined adamantly. She needed the time to herself to think.
They'd pushed the matter but she'd pushed right back with a question of it being no more dangerous tonight than any other night, right? There was a hesitation in both her parents' reluctance but they agreed in the end, letting her have her way for once.
Besides, she was a big girl, who could take care of herself.
In the last few weeks, Eva had ridden the Muni and walked home to her small apartment easily with little fear. But tonight was the first time she felt as if she wasn’t safe.
Every person who passed seemed to be watching her, and she knew that was just silly but it was what it felt like.
Her life, because of the pendant she was given, was in danger?
No.
With a shake of her head, she laughed at herself as she unlocked the door to her apartment. She mumbles how silly she was being while she turned on the hall light and went to her kitchen to grab a bite to eat. She’d left her parents before they could convince her to stay the night and had forgotten the leftovers.
While she waited for a two day old slice of pizza to heat the microwave, she began to undress, loving the fact it was her apartment and she could do so without anyone barging into her space.
As she made her way out the kitchen, she'd removed her jacket and nearly had pulled her sweater dress above her bust when a low chuckle caused her to tense against the beige wall.
“Please, don’t stop on my account,” Just Dante mocked seductively. Or at least she would have found it seductive if this strange man hadn’t broken into her apartment to watch her undress.
She quickly yanked her dress down, with a scream caught in her throat, and her heart beating fiercely in her chest.
“Are you really this surprised to see me?” he asked once her pulse had slowed only a bit.
“How’d you get in here?” she demanded, thinking back to her locked door and to the fact her apartment was on the fifth floor.
He glanced over his shoulder towards the large open window. The wind gently fluttered the sheer blue curtains a neighbor had given her.
“You should really keep your windows locked. Anyone can just waltz right in and go through your unmentionables.”
She swallowed to ease her suddenly dry throat. “I don’t have…unmentionables.”
“You should,” he said, standing with a nonchalant shrug though didn't look at her.
She watched as he glanced around her apartment, unsure what he was looking for or if he was looking for anything at all. Maybe to make sure they were alone before he murdered her?
Her heart pounded in her chest again and all the possible exits around her jumbled in her brain.
When he'd finished his sweep of the living-room he spoke but kept his tone light.
“We both know you were listening to the discussion, which is why I’m surprised to see your reaction.”
“I’m sorry,” she snapped with an annoyed tilt to her head. “A strange man breaking into my home freaked me the fuck out? Was that the wrong reaction?”
“No, not at all.” His mouth twitched with an amusement that confused her. What about this situation was funny?
They were silent for a moment and she contemplated either screaming for help or making a break for her cell to call the police. Both were slow reactions, she realized.
Dante smirked, as if reading her mind. “I think we both know I could stop you before you tried anything.” The way he sized her up made her knees weak. “But I’d like to see you try.”
She smoothed her hands on her dress but clenched them with a yelp as the microwave beeped loudly in the silence.
“You should get that.” He nodded towards her kitchen.
She couldn’t. For some strange reason, her feet were bolted to the carpet.
“You don’t need to be afraid.” He confirmed, giving her his back and sitting on the couch again. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.” Her tone was sarcastic and she knew he could tell.
Without his gaze keeping her frozen, she found the strength to leave, never taking her eyes from him, and went back to the kitchen.
With the small wall obscuring their vision of each other, she was finally able to snap her basic survival instincts into gear.
She had long legs, but with his height he'd definitely be faster than her. There wouldn't be enough time for her to sneak out the kitchen and make it to the only entrance. She could scream, but he'd surely just murder her before help arrived.
Finally, the thought of her cell phone in her jacket pocket crossed her mind again. She turned and reached for the jacket that she'd carelessly thrown to the kitchen floor.
“You could do that,” Dante said suddenly behind her. She straightened with a whirl and saw he was insanely close. Too close. She could feel his minty breath on her face when he spoke. “I wouldn’t stop you but wouldn’t you rather hear the truth about the pendant around your pretty little neck?”
His hand lifted to try to touch a strand of her hair and she jumped away from him, clutching not only where the pendant rested under her turtleneck but where her heart was still racing.
“I know the truth.” She forced her voice to be strong, defiant.
Her confidence seemed to amuse him, so she explained, again not seeing the amusement in the situation.
“It's a family heirloom my mom handed down to me.” She started to back up slowly, not liking how close he was, until her bottom hit the counter where her cutlery was. “Belonged to a Gram with too many greats to remember.”
He shook his head after her statement. “She told you to never take it off, correct?”
Evanora nodded, remembering her mother constantly repeating that it must never be removed to the point where eventually she didn’t need the repetition. It was understood that she was to never lose it, she even showered with it.
“And why do you think that is?” Obviously, he was trying to bait her into an answer that she didn’t know and it frustrated the hell out of her.
“That it was an heirloom,” she said through grit teeth. She placed her hands behind her back and felt for the drawer behind her using her body to shield her actions as best she could.
“So, what other lies have your parents told you?”
She stiffened and stopped her fondling. “My parents don’t lie to me.”
He stared at her incredulously. “Everyone lies, especially humans. Specifically your parents.”
Eva watched his facial features harden with the beginning of his statement. But once he got to the point about her parents, his gaze did a slight sweep over her body that sent an aroused heat coursing through her.
She knew it was wrong; she didn't even know him.
He had broken into her apartment, invaded her privacy, and insulted her parents.
But she did have to admit she admired a good looking man.
And Dante with no last name, was definitely good looking.
That is, until he started spouting off crazy statements such as:
“Your parents are a demonic cleanup crew.”
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