Craved
Chapter 26

Damon:

Damon patted Julia's hand. "Great to see you."

Since she was a romance writer, people flocked to her. Already, a line of women and a few men pressed behind him waiting for an autograph. Would she receive the same treatment from these humans if they knew she was a cyclops? In the past, Damon posed for some of her covers, but thankfully the cover artist changed his features so no one would recognize him. Otherwise, his colleagues might never let him live it down.

"Good luck." Julia tipped her head toward the doors. "I swear, I think she perceived my true form the way she reacted. What did she mean about how I type?"

"Nah. Said she read it somewhere."

"No. She couldn't have. I've never told anyone I don't type out the words because the keys are too small." Gingerly, she poked his chest. "Be careful. I can tell you like her by the way your eyes lit up when you saw her."

He laughed though it sounded hollow to him. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. Worry about this throng of readers clamoring for your signature. How do you manage to sign your novels?"

She pulled out a huge pen from her purse. "With this. Sofia cloaked it for me, so it looks like a regular pen. It takes my signature and miniaturizes it onto the paper."

After bidding Julia farewell, he joined everyone on the bus. As usual, Renee sat near the back. Julia's words echoed in his mind. Could Renee view a supernatural's true form?

She didn't seem to at Sofia's, or she would have run out screaming. Come to think of it, she did act funny over pizza... the necklace. He swerved to avoid the ditch.

"Sorry." Son of a bitch! The damn crystal. Did it give her some type of true sight or something, even though he'd never heard of a human being in possession of a crystal being able to see their kind?

Meaning, she'd not only seen Travis in his gnome form, but she'd seen him in all his incubus glory.

He frowned. Normally, a human woman seeing his true form meant she'd be lured in closer. One had likened the experience as the difference between seeing a slice of chocolate cake in a magazine and having the actual dessert, still warm from the stove and its intoxicating scent making one inhale and sigh. Unless it's the crystal making her immune to me somehow.

Have to get the damn rock away from her! Sofia said it was more harmful than the ahool.

"Where are we going?" Carla asked. "Camp's back this way."

"Change of plans." He turned his head slightly. "We're taking off the evening to celebrate and travel to Dr. Abany's camp after breakfast."

Renee's head shot up.

"The fact we all made it out of a cave-in, and that my lawyers say they've reached a compromise are reasons to celebrate. Also, Dr. Abany and his team plan to have us help them excavate tomorrow afternoon."

"That's wonderful. I'm glad they're feeling better." Renee's foot bounced. "What did the lawyers say?"

"We have to turn over any replaceing of significance to the government."

"Meaning?" Carla leaned over the seat.

"Not entirely sure. I've got a morning meeting on Tuesday afternoon, so I thought we'd see a local attraction." At the next light, he swiveled. "Everyone okay with watching the Whirling Dervishes?"

Cheers sounded in answer. Renee was right. Taking time away for a little fun and sightseeing was a morale booster as well. He'd do at least two or three exciting things on his digs in the future. If he still had the desire to continue after getting the crystal from Renee.

Hoping it wasn't too late for an impromptu tour, he dug out his phone to call the Cappadocia's caravanserais and for tickets to the Dervish ceremony afterward. At nearly one, they had plenty of time before the ceremony at nine. Have a group late lunch, early dinner.

After schmoozing the receptionist over the phone, everything was finalized. He drove into the parking lot and before he turned off the bus, everyone scrambled away. When Renee slipped out, he offered his hand to help her, then let his hand remain on her back as they followed the team into the caravanserais.

"Do you know why these were built?" he whispered to her.

"I'm a history teacher." She placed a hand on her hip. "They were built during the reign of sultans in the twelfth century for protection along the Silk Road. Not only for security, but to compensate merchants who were attacked or robbed on the way. As a result, international trade expanded."

"Each one of these caravanserais housed a physician and veterinarian, priest, blacksmith, cook, and others." He led her into the stone building.

Ahead of them, another tour trailed away. Gary and Michael strolled hand in hand. Larry pointed out a mason stone to Carla and Travis, while the rest of the team wandered around the foyer.

The tour guide droned on about how this caravanserais was made from hewn volcanic stone. "Notice how high and thick the walls are. This was for safety against robbers and raids. Now let's continue to the portal doors, which are made of iron." She walked forward. "Above them is Seljuk stone carvings." The woman's words trailed off as the group roamed out of the chamber.

Carla and the others streamed forward, whispering as they passed the exhibit.

"Must have been so fascinating to live back then." Renee bent to examine the stone floor.

She had no idea. A simpler time back then, but also bloody, violent, and rampant with disease and sickness. "Would you like a private tour?" Her head cocked as she considered, glancing back at the team who followed the guide to another chamber. "What did you have in mind?" "Oh, I've taken this tour many times. Probably know their speech by heart." He held out his arm. "I promise you won't regret it." "What about the rest of the team?"

"If you'd like to invite them on a private tour, that's up to you. However, I hoped we could spend a little time alone."

He swallowed the dry lump that formed while she stared up at him. The tilt of her head told him she was debating. Then with a wicked smile, she laced her arm through his. Through the stone courtyard outside, they strolled to the center, reaching a fountain of bubbling water. Carved arches opened over walls and walkways. The dervishes would perform here.

Her sigh made him glance to where her hand rested on his arm. Didn't appear like she was in any hurry to let go, and neither was he.

"Just think, eight hundred years ago, this would have been teeming with camels, horses, even oxen, and merchants and traders." Renee's words rose in pitch and rushed out. "They were all here, where we stand now."

On the edge of the fountain, she sat, sliding her hand down his arm to his hand. If he hadn't been paying attention, he'd have missed the silent question of her fingertips as she slid them over his palm. Sitting beside her, he curled his fingers around her hand. He ached to pull her close and kiss her until she was breathless. Until she didn't care what anyone said. What would she have thought about the ancient people here? "And you should've seen the dancing." "The dervishes?" She looked around as though trying to picture it.

"Belly dancers, fire walkers, and sword balancers too." He traced her hand with his fingers. "Even though lots of people and animals stayed here, the curry and cinnamon, lamb and fish wafted through the archways and into the courtyard. Several soldiers and archers patrolled the caravanserais' walls, but all inside felt safe."

She gestured to the enormous walls surrounding them. "Obviously. This is like a high-rise building, and many at the time probably never knew anything as grand."

"Or beautiful."

A teasing look made her eyes sparkle. "I'm sure you say that to a lot of women."

"No, I don't." Not anymore. Renee was unique, lush on the outside and granite in the interior, but he'd seen her softer side. Snatches of grass grew between the bricks of the stone floor courtyard. Once, when this had been newly built, the scents of stone slabs, sand, gravel, and cement choked the air. "I only say it when it's true about a woman's inner beauty as well as her outer." Goddess knew he had plenty of the latter and it left him empty.

Her breath hitched while he memorized the angles of her face. A breeze tossed a dark curl in her face and it stuck against the corner of her mouth. Before she stirred, he used his free hand to release the strand. Tingles spread through his fingers, and he couldn't pull away. Thankfully, the rest of their group still wandered around the main lobby.

It was he that was the human and she the succubus the way she drew him to her. When her lips parted, he cupped her cheek, but she didn't balk. Instead, she kissed him, sending desire and longing coursing through his veins.

In the back of his mind, he chanted her name. He wanted her, however much she'd allow him to have. She gripped his shoulders as she swept her tongue into his mouth. She tasted like frosting.

Too soon, a cough resonated behind him. Reluctantly, he allowed Renee to break away from him as though he'd burned her. On the other side of the fountain, Travis and the others stood. Carla's cheeks were red, and two of the men smirked. Renee, though, brushed off invisible lint and didn't look up for several seconds. When she did, her eyes held a blend of mirth and annoyance.

"We thought you two got lost." Travis shuffled from foot to foot.

"There's a café here," Carla said. "We can eat after the tour?"

***

While they waited for the dervishes to perform, Renee fidgeted on the stone bench.

"So, what do you know about their garments?" Damon whispered hoping to be nearer.

"Their hats represent the grave." She paused, her nose wrinkling. "And their skirt is their ego's shroud."

"Close enough. When he takes off his black cloak, he takes a journey and advances into spiritual maturity through the dance." He rested his arm on her shoulders, and his heart flipped as she snuggled up closer to him. "Some believe they spin, showing a mystical spiritual journey of perfection through love, truth, and finally to perfection."

"Exactly. I wish the world could spin and have more love for everything and everyone regardless of race, class, or religious belief."

Or species. What would she say if she knew he was an incubus?

The dervish bowed to the four directions, then to the musicians, and to each other. One by one, they spun with their hats and dark coats. White pants peeked out from underneath their skirts. Soon, they took off their coats and whirled faster as their heads tilted to the side. The music was almost hypnotic.

"How do they spin so much without getting dizzy?" Renee asked. "I don't think I could do that."

Damon brought her hand up to his mouth. "Practice. I'll spin you around later if you like dancing." Even in the firelight, her smile radiated.

After the ceremony, Renee and Damon accepted a Serbet-a Turkish religious drink. Several of the dervishes carried the liquid on their backs in a huge brass flask with an ibrik or nozzle. To pour the drink, they bent forward, holding the spout over their shoulders, and letting the liquid fill the goblet.

"To new beginnings." Damon held his glass toward Renee's.

"Cheers." She clinked her cup on his and drank.

The chilled drink tasted of rose water, mango, and orange.

Before she tossed back the liquid, Damon ran a finger down her forearm. "It's only fair to warn you about the drink."

She frowned. "Is it an aphrodisiac or something?"

A laugh escaped him and a few in the crowd glanced in his direction. He held up the drink in acknowledgment, then shifted his attention back to Renee. "In some Eastern rural areas of Turkey, it is a sign of the bride's acceptance of the groom after the dowry is agreed upon."

"Oh." Her breath hitched. "Guess it's a good thing I'm not a bride nor do I have a dowry.