Free Field of Innocence (The Euphoria Series) by Lainy Lane Page A

larger. She focuses further and realizes the lavender flash she had seen was actually a set of eyes that are now coming toward her.
     
    A tall, lanky man walks toward her, glides really more than walks. His every move seems like a piece of perfection. He wears mostly black clothes; black pants that are tighter than they probably need to be, and a white shirt that is mostly hidden by the black trench coat that hangs over him. His hair matches his coat and lies messily around his face. His eyes stand out against all the dark that surrounds him, they are bright and match Jarreth’s in opaqueness. However, there is a big difference between his eyes and Jarreth’s. When Jarreth had looked at her, she felt some sort of peace and comfort. Gazing into this man’s eyes, she feels an odd mixture of fear and temptation.
     
    “Calandra,” he says. His voice is deep and intimidating.
     
    “Where is Tristan?” she asks. She is far too worried to care how he knows her name exactly.
     
    “That’s your first question, my dear?” he asks nonchalantly.
     
    “Yes, of course,” she replies simply.
     
    He closes the gap between them faster than he should be able to. His eyes don’t leave hers as he walks, and he never falters in any way.
     
    “Shouldn’t your first question be about this?” Placing his hand over her left shoulder, he gently cups it and slowly runs his hand across it. His touch sends chills through her, but not the good kind like Jarreth’s had.
     
    Calandra gasps once his hand is gone and she sees the dragonfly. It isn’t a real dragonfly perched on her shoulder like she has been becoming somewhat accustomed to of late. This is a mark, some sort of a tattoo that has never been there before. It’s stunning. It sits at an angle, its head faces toward her. Its wings are a breathtaking mixture of pinks and purples. On the left wing is a swirl of a beautiful baby blue through the center, and on the right wing, a matching swirl of lavender. Its eyes are a breathtaking shade of turquoise and it’s body a bold shade of burgundy. It appears to be three dimensional, as if there was actually a dragonfly perched on her shoulder looking at her, watching over her, much like the dragonflies have done in her last few visits to the woods.
     
    “What is it?” she asks, unable to take her eyes off of it.
     
    Not only does it look like a tattoo that has been there forever, but also it seems as if it belongs on her shoulder. How had she randomly received a tattoo without knowing it? Without pain? Without healing? Was this somehow the effects of the trip here? The questions cloud her mind, making it hard to focus on the task at hand.
     
    “That, I am not willing to answer for you,” he says and his smile turns quite wicked. “However, I am sure once Jarreth arrives he will fill you in on a few things, though not as many as he should I’m sure.”
     
    “Jarreth? Where am I? And who are you?” Calandra’s head spins from all the questions that surge through her.
     
    “You, dear, are in Faerie of course. That’s what happens when someone of your … stature steps into the ring. I, you will do well to remember, am Drake.”
     
    The memory of stepping into the ring flashes through her mind and reminds her once again what she was here for. Tristan is here somewhere, he has to be. She had accidentally sent him through to Faerie after he’d stepped into the ring.
     
    “Where is Tristan?” she asks again. “And why did he come here?” She knows it wasn’t of his own will. Something was controlling him, something made him come here. He couldn’t have even possibly known where the ring was on his own, let alone known to use it to enter the world of Faerie. He had looked so frightened for the split second between him stepping into the ring and being taken to Faerie, the split second when he was actually there.
     
    “He came here because I asked him to, and he is safe for now, that much you have my word on. I