Three nights later, Titania sat at her dressing room table, touching up her makeup, wondering if she was losing her mind. If it hadn't been for the fact she'd seen her bloody and ruined clothes from the night she threw herself into the middle of the fight, she would have sworn everything afterwards had been a dream. Diego. The talking and hearing him in her thoughts, because she hadn't heard from him since.
She had found someone like her, different, gifted, or imagined him. Laney was gifted. She had a very strong sixth sense for perversion, for true, dark evil. Titania could read emotion by absorbing it, as well as broadcast her own. She did have a low telekinetic ability, but hardly ever used it unless she was alone. She made enough headlines with her empathic ability, so many fans gushing about their experiences at her concerts. Titania did her best to lay low, but it wasn't easy. Houston was their protector. It didn't hurt that Houston and Laney were made for each other, she thought with a smile for the pair, but it easily disappeared. If Diego was like them, why had he vanished?
She hadn't felt his mental touch since the night she had met him. Maybe she had imagined him after all. Her powder brush moved absently across her skin. She knew he'd been hurt. There had been so much blood. She tossed the brush to the tabletop rather than let the building shiver run its course.
If it were possible, she felt even lonelier now. She loved her friends. Houston was the best kind of big brother and best friend a girl could hope for. Laney and she had connected right from the first audition for the backup singer opening. She smiled, remembering Houston's amorous chase of the tall blonde with the dazzling green eyes. David and Justin were like goofy cousins, sardonic, playful, ribbing on each other. But still ... She sighed. Why was he sticking in her thoughts?
She remembered his long mane of wild, black hair, curled and thick, which reached well past his shoulders. He had a broad forehead, sharp features with wide cheekbones, and lean, almost aristocratic lips. And the brightest gray eyes she'd ever encountered, amazingly close to colorless, lightning gray. She had no trouble remembering his broad shoulders, along with his solid body, thick and muscular from when he'd held her for those brief moments, her mind still awash with emotions and signals that were overloading her senses.
He towered over her when he had stood with her. Usually, she stayed away from men altogether. Their intentions were usually so obvious, so easy to read. Their lust could make her stomach heave, but it hadn't been like that with Diego at all. He had been extremely gentle, in fact.
She fell back against her chair, her arms going around her middle, staring at nothing. Why couldn't she forget him?
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