Free Dark Rapture by Michele Hauf Page A

the decision over, she cursed the vehicle, watching helplessly as the rain puddled in the darkened streets. Walking did not appeal. Besides, she had already made that trek once and she was damned if she was going to do it again, especially in this horrid weather.
    But was she ready to enter Sebastian’s lair again?
    She tapped the steering wheel to the beat of the rain and reasoned with herself. He does deserve a second chance. Gary had been surprised to see that she hadn’t tossed the roses out.
    “I thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with him?’ he had yelled.
    She had said that to her brother. But there was something about Sebastian. It was hard to stay angry with him. Even now, as she rubbed the disappearing scar on her forehead, she tried to think of one good reason why she shouldn’t give him another chance. His kisses were not one of them.
    Swiping at the moisture on the window again, she decided to make a run for it. Scarlet stepped out of the Jeep, her feet sinking into a puddle. She groaned as the cold water poured into her suede flats. The air smelled of fresh grass and the bewitching glow from Sebastian’s porch light beckoned again.
    She sprinted toward his house, stopping mid-puddle to pull off her ruined shoes. Halfway through his yard she was completely soaked, her cotton dress clinging to her body like a wet paper towel. Once on the porch, her finger slipped on the door bell, and she was surprised when the door pushed open easily.
    Moonlight washed across the kitchen floor, leading her eyes further in.
    “Sebastian?” she called quietly, feeling guilty at having opened his door and even more guilty when she stepped inside, closing it behind her.
    Cool water puddled at her feet as Scarlet scanned the room, listening intently for signs of the house’s inhabitant. Though she knew this was wrong, the feeling that Sebastian wouldn’t want her standing out in the rain reassured her, and she stepped across the kitchen floor.
    Shaking off a shiver, she brushed water from her arms and then, noticing the mess she was making on the floor, tiptoed to the sink to get a towel. She wiped up the puddle, following her trail to the center of the kitchen on her knees. She stopped when she came upon something that wasn’t rain.
    Curiosity urged her to dip her finger into the bubble of red liquid on the floor. She rubbed it between her fingers, wondering what it was. Sniffing, she didn’t recognize the faint metallic odor—and then it hit her.
    “Oh, my God, this is blood. Sebastian must be hurt.”
    Leaving the towel on the floor, Scarlet stood and looked up the stairs where she knew his bedroom was. That had to be the reason for his not answering the door. If he was hurt, he might be lying somewhere, bleeding.
    “Sebastian! Sebastian?” she called as she ran up the stairs, but she stopped mid-dash.
    "Mon dieu! What is going on?” Sebastian’s voice boomed as he hustled down the stairs, his silk pajama bottoms ruffing against each other as he took the steps two at a time.
    Scarlet shrank down the steps and across the floor, feeling her spine meld against the cool facade of the refrigerator as he approached her. A wildness flashed in his eyes, but within seconds, he regained his gentle composure and went to her, cupping her chin in his hand.
    “Are you all right, Sebastian?”
    His eyebrow quirked. It was obvious he had no idea of her worries. “What? Yes, I’m fine. Why are you here, cherie?"
    He was so close she could see his temples pounding. But there was no blood that would explain the drops on the floor.
    Scarlet held out her hand and displayed her red fingertips. “The blood. I thought you were hurt.”
    As if she wielded a dagger instead of her bare hand, Sebastian backed away, releasing his gentle grasp on her.
    “It was on the floor, Sebastian. Don’t worry, it’s not from me. What’s going on?”
    He looked up and down her shaking body, though it seemed to Scarlet that he was