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 Eternity: Chapter One

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Morrigan1310

Morrigan1310

Number of posts : 2
Registration date : 2013-04-17
Location : Fort Lauderdale, FL

Eternity: Chapter One Empty
PostSubject: Eternity: Chapter One   Eternity: Chapter One EmptyWed Apr 17, 2013 1:23 pm

Chapter One

I was twenty-seven when he walked into my life and drastically altered the world as I knew it. I finally found my purpose, and his name was Gareth Macgregor. He owned the genetic lab that I worked for, along with half a dozen other business ventures that contributed to his considerable wealth.
I didn’t set out to make my boss the purpose of my life, but the first time I saw him, about six months after I started working for his company, it was as though I had been reborn. As though I had woken up from a semi-comatose state that had lasted my entire existence.
He strode into the lab, tall and imposing, his eyes a strange brown color that almost didn’t seem real because of the countless hues in them. Browns, golds, and greens made up the overall color, but they could not be called hazel. Very unusual eyes that I couldn’t draw my gaze away from. He exuded confidence with every stride and carried a quiet arrogance on his broad shoulders.
I could only stare at him, apparently with my mouth hanging open. One of my colleagues snickered and nudged my arm. My mouth shut with a snap.
“I guess this is the first time you’re seeing our illustrious employer? The girls always react that way.” With a snort and an eye roll, he showed what he thought about the female population’s reaction. I looked around the room, mostly because I didn’t believe him; surely a group of adult women wouldn’t react as though a boy band had just come through signing autographs.
Sure enough, most, if not all, of the women in the lab were either open-mouthed or hiding shy smiles behind hands, their eyes downcast.
I glanced back at their object of infatuation only to find that he was looking in my direction, those odd eyes about to land on me. I shifted my gaze and looked away quickly, not wanting to make eye contact. Puzzled by my reaction to him, I tried to think if I had ever felt this way before and realized I hadn’t; not with the first man who took my virginity, nor the last man that I had been with. Just looking at him took my breath away, and I didn’t think it was just his dazzling beauty.
He was beautiful, there was no denying that. Handsome would not pertain to him, because it brings to mind ruggedness and possible imperfections that contribute to a pleasing whole.
Gareth was spectacular in every sense of the word. His skin was a dusky gold, but slightly pale at the same time. His strange eyes were mesmerizing and perfectly almond shaped, his long nose straight as a knife’s edge. His mouth was sheer heaven, with a full lower lip and thin upper lip that seemed to have a secret smile playing about it. All this was framed by a strong jaw, strong chin, and high cheekbones. He was tall, and that day he seemed to tower over the other occupants in the room. His height was impressive, as a female of average height, I usually noticed tall men, and he was easily a few inches over six feet.
I noticed that everyone had turned to look at me, and I couldn’t figure out why. I had shut my mouth and didn’t feel like I was drooling. Then the reason they were staring spoke from behind me, and I almost slid out of my chair. His voice was as hypnotic as his eyes, like a smooth whiskey poured over my nerve endings.
“I hear you’re our newest geneticist. I’m Gareth Macgregor.” His hand came into my field of vision so I stood up to face him. I placed my hand in his and if he hadn’t grasped it firmly, I would have pulled it right back. An electric current went surging up my arm from where our palms met, and I gasped, raising my eyes to his.
Bad mistake. I was captured, and that’s when he became my purpose. I could see myself reflected in those colorful irises, but more importantly, I saw his reaction to me. There was something akin to recognition, although we had never met, and a brief flash of anguish, which puzzled me.
It was as if he studied my features forever, taking in everything about me. There was a slight scowl on that beautiful face as his eyes traveled over me like a physical touch, even though it seemed they were always locked on mine. They touched on my lips, dropped lower to the hollow at the base of my throat, where I could feel my pulse tattooing a fierce beat. Then abruptly, he dropped my hand as if he had just realized he was still holding it and tucked his own in his pants pocket. I could see that he held his hand clenched, as if he wanted to keep the sensation of my hand in his for a little bit longer. My own was curiously cold, as if it had been held against a freezer door.
I found my voice and murmured, “I’m Dr. Anna Greer. It’s an honor to work here.”
That was now an understatement. As we held each other’s gaze, my green eyes locked inexorably to his parti-colored ones, I could have kicked myself for not coming to work for him straight out of college. This was my first real job, and as a geneticist, it was like winning the Super Bowl as a rookie quarterback.
Macgregor Biosciences was one of the most cutting edge private pharmaceutical and genetic research labs in the country, and competition was fierce to get in. The company was responsible for all kinds of innovations in developing vaccines and making staggering advances in the fight against AIDS, cancer, and diseases of the blood. Gareth Macgregor, PhD, was behind it single-handedly. He came from money, which his parents left him when they died.
From lab gossip, Gareth was either very young when they died, or he was in college. Either way, he was still a young man to have accomplished everything that he had. I placed him in his mid-thirties, which blew me away, because I could barely get up in the morning to come to work, let alone build a small pharmaceutical empire by the time I was thirty-three.
Suddenly he smiled, his teeth just as perfect as the rest of him, and he broke our eye contact.
“Fantastic to have you aboard, Dr. Greer. I’ve heard good things about you.” His voice had a hint of Scotland in it, which was odd because he was born and raised here in New Hampshire. There were many unusual things about this man, and a large part of me wanted to get to the bottom of them.
“How long have you been married? Is Greer your maiden name?”
With a jolt I realized I was wearing my mother’s wedding band, something I did out of remembrance, and to stop guys from hitting on me at work.
“Oh, no, I’m not married.” The words came out in a rush. For some reason I needed him to know I wasn’t married.
Interest kindled in his eyes, but was quickly brought under control. “Have a good day, then, Dr. Greer.”
I watched him walk out the doors of the lab. My eyes lingered on the back of his head, with its riot of wavy black hair that just brushed the collar of his suit jacket, as he left.
When he turned the corner and I lost sight of him, I sat back down in my chair and noticed that I had now become the center of attention. Six pairs of eyes stared at me, all women. Most of them I was on a friendly basis with, some I just nodded to in greeting, but now they all wanted to talk to me.
“He has never done that before, and I’ve worked here six years! You must be something special,” Angela said as she leaned over her computer monitor, her tone not quite unfriendly, but a little shift would put the comment into catty territory.
“No, I’m not something special. It’s weird though, I never even met him at my interview. He was out of the country. “
“He came in here just to meet you.” Grace giggled.
They sounded like a bunch of secretaries gossiping by the water cooler, instead of geneticist geeks, but I guessed they were entitled to sound like adolescent girls sometimes. An exceptionally beautiful male specimen had just left our presence, and although I was never good at this stuff in school, his attention and scrutiny had left me giddy. Grace’s words made me even more so, although I doubted them.
“Do you think so?” The idea that the indescribably gorgeous man that had just left was interested in any way, shape, or form in skinny little Anna Greer was absolutely ridiculous, but stranger things have happened.
Something still bothered me about him though, and then my mind touched on it. His eyes weren’t real, or rather the color wasn’t. He had to be wearing the best pair of colored contacts that money could buy. The only reason that I was aware they were contacts was because I had been staring so keenly into them. His company profile stated that he did not wear glasses. Perfect 20/20. He didn’t strike me as a vain man, and it’s not like his beauty was a quiet one that he had to enhance, so why the fake colors?
It niggled at me the rest of the day, making me unproductive, so I left a little early at 4 o’clock. I also could no longer stand the sudden interest that everyone had taken in me; I would have much rather gone back to semi-anonymity.
The other thing that had made me useless was the way I acted. Not the kind of woman to moon over someone, I never spent all day long thinking about a guy I just met, no matter how good-looking he was. I could appreciate male beauty and not be swept away by it. My reaction to Gareth was completely out of character for me, and it bothered me.
As I walked toward my car in the gathering darkness, my thoughts were caught up in Gareth, and I wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings, but something, an intuition call it, made me stop.
Someone was watching me.
I stopped in the middle of the parking lot, and turned a complete circle, my black coat flapping gently around my legs in the wind. Nothing was there, but I could feel eyes on me. Despite the warmth of my coat, I shivered, even though I wasn’t scared.
I stood for a moment, thinking that someone would eventually come forward; a co-worker, someone else cutting out early, or a client leaving the building. When no one did, I continued on toward my Jeep.
I opened the door and climbed in, quickly starting it to get the heat going. As I sat there in the gathering gloom, waiting for the Jeep to warm up, I glanced around the parking lot, peering intently into shadows. As I was trailing my gaze along the line of trees that ran in a straight formation in front of my parking space, I saw something that made me draw back in shock.
Someone was standing next to the evergreen closest to my Jeep.
I turned on my lights, fumbling a bit with the adrenalin that coursed through me, but no one was there. I knew I had seen someone. It brought back memories of my childhood, to a time where I had questioned the things I saw. I had known things as a child, things better left to the imagination and I had no desire to revisit them.
I used to be able to see things that other people couldn’t. I saw the ghost in the hall, I saw dead people. As I got older and more interested in science, I seemed to lose that part of myself and eventually forgot it ever existed. Now it came slamming home to me in a flash of remembrance and I was positive that someone had been right there in front of me.
I quickly threw the Jeep in gear and backed out as fast as I could. I almost backed into a snow bank, but narrowly missed it, gunned my engine and hit the road. I headed north on Route 13, joining the rush hour traffic heading home. My eyes returned again and again to the rearview mirror. I don’t know what I was looking for, maybe someone following me, but in my heart I knew no one was. What I had sensed in the parking lot was not something that would need to follow me to know where to find me. If it wanted me, it would be able to track me down using preternatural senses. Whatever it was, it hadn’t been malevolent. It hadn’t been benevolent either, it had just been…watchful, studying me.
Another shiver ran up my spine, and again it wasn’t a feeling of dread, but what my mother would have said was a goose walking over a grave. I had no idea why I wasn’t scared, because it was certainly a disconcerting experience. Any woman who had that vibe, as though she was being watched, especially in a darkening parking lot with no one else around, knows how frightening that is, but still no fear here.
The reason came to me in a moment of insight; the figure had looked like Gareth. That’s why I wasn’t afraid. Whoever had been standing there, he had his height, his undeniable beauty, and the most piercing eyes I’d ever seen. They had been such a light blue as to be white, and had matched the color of the snow in the fading light. That could be the reason for the contacts, if it had been Gareth. Eyes like that would be noticed, and maybe someone who doesn’t want to be noticed would go to great lengths to hide them. Why wouldn’t he want to be noticed? And why take the contacts out now?
More questions were swirling through my brain as I traveled north with traffic, trying to keep at least part of my mind on my driving and those around me.
Why wasn’t I afraid, even if it had been Gareth? When he had held my gaze in the lab, he had made me feel protected, even as he had set my pulse racing. His gaze had spoken volumes, and the flash of anguish in those eyes gave me the impression that he was a sensitive soul. Maybe I reminded him of someone he once knew, maybe he’d had a death in the family and a little bit of sorrow had come through, but he was not about to scare me in a parking lot.
Whatever the reason, I had a new curiosity about my boss. Questions flitted through my mind, like how could he move so fast? He had been standing there, either him or his twin, and God help us all if there were two of those beautiful creatures in the world. In the blink of an eye, or in my case the flicking on of head lights, he had been gone. He could have ducked behind the tree, but I still would have seen him, or the branches would have been swaying from his passage.
Why would he be watching me? Another good question. Maybe something to do with the recognition in his eyes, as though he had met me before. What I saw in his eyes was more like when you run into your first love after not seeing them for a long time, not that I had ever been in love before. If he saw in me something like that, I could see why he would want to get another look at me, but did he have to be so clandestine about it?
Which brought me to the conclusion that it had to be my imagination at work. My mom had always told me that I had a way too active brain, and with just the shear magnetism that Gareth had exuded2, it was no wonder I was imagining him peering out at me from behind trees. I took my exit and tried to move my mind onto other things, like work. I was working on research for XP, or xeroderma pigmentosum, which is a genetic disorder causing hyper-sensitivity to sunlight, and in some cases any kind of light that produces UV rays. XP is what made me want to become a geneticist. One of the few people who I had ever been close to had XP, and she was also the reason why I didn’t let myself get close to people. She had died, and her loss profoundly affected me. I learned at an early age that you don’t get close to people because they leave you, whether they want to or not, and then you’re devastated, inconsolable, and I did not want to live that way. For me, it was better to live and not love, than love and be crushed.
This again brought my thoughts back to Gareth. Certainly he affected me like no other before. I would have to be very careful to keep my distance, but that wouldn’t be hard. I had worked there six months now, and that was the first time I had ever seen him, so it would probably be another six months before I saw him again. The extreme reaction I had was very uncharacteristic for me, but I could easily tell that I affected him too.
Maybe we’d known each other in another life. I made a dismissive huffing noise as I turned into my driveway and raised the garage door. It seemed as though my childhood beliefs were trying to take up permanent residence in my brain. Despite my training, I liked to think that I had an open mind to all possibilities, but I had spent so many years now as a skeptic, and so little time as a believer that it was hard to embrace theories that my mother had insisted were only the products of a hyper imagination.
After I entered the house and came into the living room, the feeling of being watched again came over me. I stopped in mid-movement and looked out my living room window, and saw, with surprising clarity a man standing under the street light across from my house. I was able to watch him for a moment before he disappeared, but it wasn’t more than thirty seconds, probably less. As before in the parking lot, as soon as he knew I was watching he was gone. I knew I hadn’t blinked, I knew what I saw, but he was just no longer there.
Now a little fissure of fear ran down my spine, turning my blood to ice. I jerked my curtains closed, and then went throughout the house, lowering blinds and closing curtains. Every window was checked to be sure it was locked, and all three doors were bolted, the first time I had done that since I moved in. The town I lived in, which was located a half-hour north of Manchester, was small and safe, but tonight I didn’t feel safe. Maybe because it was late, maybe it was a different person out there, but now I experienced the fear that should have enveloped me at work i2n the parking lot.
I went into my bedroom and hurriedly changed into my pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and flannel bottoms. My movements were jerky, my body giving way to the fear that my mind, refusing to let my emotions loose. I left my clothes where they fell, instead of putting them away as I normally would. I had to get back into the light in the living room.
I walked back into the living room and went straight through into the kitchen, where I grabbed a knife out of the butcher block. I had no idea what I would do with it, but it had a comforting presence, the smooth black grip fitting closely in my hand. I went back to the living room and curled up on the couch, my eyes darting around, probing in the shadows of the room.
I reached out and grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Maybe there was something on the news about an escaped convict or something. The five-thirty news lit the screen, and I listened intently to it and to the various noises around my house. Nothing unusual with either. It was supposed to snow more tomorrow, and no one had won the lottery. My house made its usual noises. I relaxed a little and set the knife on the cocktail table and sat back, flipping channels.
It was as though my mind was slowly flipping open and releasing paranoia, leaving me unhinged. I led a pretty sedate life and nothing unusual ever happened to me. Now, three times in one day I had extraordinary experiences; meeting Gareth-Dr. Macgregor, the parking lot, and now my own street. What was going on? Was I having a breakdown?
As the minutes ticked by, and I didn’t hear the tinkling of glass as someone broke into my house; I started to relax, slowly but surely. I flopped back fully on the couch, pulling a throw over my legs and stretching out. There was nothing on T.V. so I snagged a book out of a pile and tried to lose myself in it.

I must’ve fallen asleep in the living room, because I remember dreaming that Gareth came to me in the darkest part of the night, and sat next to where I was curled up on the couch. His eyes were an ice blue that would be almost white in daylight. They seemed to glow with an inner fire, but there was comfort in his gaze. I didn’t feel frightened at all. I sat up and looked at him. With a trembling hand, he reached out to tuck some hair that had fallen across my eyes behind my ear, and then he let his fingertips drift down my cheek and along my jaw line. I shivered at his touch, partly due to his hand being so cold, but mostly because it sent a contradictory fire coursing through my veins.
“Do you fear me?” He asked, the slight Scottish brogue warming his words.
“No, I have no fear of you, just curiosity. Should I fear you?” I lied. I had no fear that he would hurt me physically, knew absolutely that he would never intentionally harm my body, but he could destroy me emotionally.
He chuckled, a soft rumbling in his chest.
“If only you knew. You remind me of someone….” his words drifted off as he scrutinized my features, and I was entranced by his gaze, held in those icy depths as his fingertips traced wherever his eyes roamed.
My eyes closed as they traced my collarbone, then over my shoulders and down my arm, sending curls of fire and ice wherever they trailed, eyes and fingers alike.
“Look at me.” He said it softly, but the command was unmistakable. I opened my eyes and looked at him, but wrapped my bare arms around my knees, like a little child.
“I would never harm you. I just had to see you one more time, so please forgive the intrusion. I won’t bother you again.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead, his lips smooth but cold. The urge to grab him and not let go was strong, and frightened me in its intensity. Even in a dream, he could make me lose all my walls and barriers that I had erected carefully over the years, and bring them crashing down around my feet.
“What I wouldn’t give to love you tonight, and have you know me.” His lips blazed a trail where his fingertips had previously ventured and then I did lose control, throwing my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to his.
At first he held back, and I could feel the restraint in him, the power he was exerting to stop himself from returning my kiss. I knew the moment he gave in, his restraint forgotten as his arms came around me like an iron band. His mouth took everything that I had to give and more, and it was heaven. Somehow his cold lips left trails of fire in their wake, and our tongues mated in mimicry of an age-old dance our bodies longed to recreate.
His hands were in my hair, pulling my head back, and I could feel his lips on my neck. The sensations that he aroused in me were unlike anything I could ever have imagined in my life. He had stoked an inferno that was raging in me, and my body yearned for more, while my head kept telling me that maybe this wasn’t a dream after all, it was too real.
Before I knew what was happening, he pushed me away and was across the room, standing by the French doors that led to my backyard. One second he was there, the next not there. I could see he was distressed, and it only amplified my puzzled thoughts. How did he get over there so fast? Why was he so upset? There could be no way this was real. It had to be a dream.
“I won’t be back. And you won’t remember this in the morning.”
Then he was gone.
He was wrong. I remembered all of it.
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Eternity: Chapter One
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