Infinity Chronicles Book One: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Series

by Albany Walker

  I see Dante with the two other guys he was with the other day, and I'm pretty sure they're the same two guys from the diner. Their heads are close together and no one else approaches them. They seem deep in conversation when all of a sudden Dante’s head snaps around and he glares right at me.

  I slip behind the tree trunk quickly, acting like I got caught doing something, but I probably just made it worse by hiding. Now it really looks like I was being all stalkerish. “Damn it!” I spin around, looking at the field that sits across from the school.

  I give myself a few minutes before strolling out from the opposite side of the tree from where he caught me peeking. How the hell did he even know to look right at me? It was like he knew I was looking at him and exactly where I was.

  I don't look up to see if they're still there, instead I keep heading straight for the front doors, blending in with all the other students.

  In English class I feel a quick tap on my shoulder. I turn my head just enough so whoever it is knows I'm acknowledging them.

  “Laura.”

  “Hmm,” is my tiny reply.

  “Hey, are you working at the diner tonight?” My brows furrow. I have a whole litany of questions running through my head. Who is this, how do they know I'm working, and where?

  Without meaning to, my eyes connect with the blond guy behind me when I shift to see who’s questioning me. His eyes are a soft green, almost translucent, as he stares right back at me.

  My mouth opens to answer and his head tips at exactly the same time. “Damn,” he whispers, his eyes rounded in surprise and I quickly glance away.

  “Yes,” I answer when I'm fully facing forward. For the rest of the class I try to ignore that he's right behind me, and before today I had no clue. I never noticed.

  It's almost easy when I remember how paranoid I was moments before, when I was worried over his question. I cannot turn into my mother.

  The rest of the day progresses easily and my lunch routine has fallen into place nicely. Other than the first day when I ran into Dante and Delaney—that's cheer girl—I haven't seen anyone use this stairwell.

  Though I have been trying really hard to stay away from her group. After the little shove yesterday she hasn't tried anything else, yet.

  As I'm balling up my paper sack I hear what sounds like the tail end of someone speaking, “…seen her here before. What do you think she meant?”

  “Who knows, but have you seen her eyes?”

  “Do you think see knows?” asks a third voice.

  Just as I move to stand, three guys round the landing. All of them stop dead when they see me. I'm frozen too. My book is still lying open on the step I just vacated and my bag is one step below, on the same riser I'm standing on now.

  I'm trapped with the knowledge that they were talking about me, looking for me. Dante is the first to break the surprised spell we all seemed to be in. He shoves his hands in his front pockets and rounds down his shoulders. It does nothing to hide his bulk.

  “Oh hey, Laura,” he says like they just happened upon me by accident. It's enough to unlock my muscles. I lower my eyes and contemplate an escape. I do not understand why they would be searching for me unless... unless they want to warn me off the diner. There certainly can't be any other reason.

  Flashes of my mother telling me not to trust anyone scrolls through my mind, her warnings of how dangerous people can be, especially men. And these guys standing in front of me seem like they fit into that category more than your average teenage boy.

  Looking at their shirts, I notice when the one on my left nudges Dante with his shoulder.

  “This is Milo and Oliver. They said you're working at Maggie's?”

  Great here it is. “I need that job,” I mutter hastily.

  It's quiet for about two seconds. The blond, Oliver, steps in front of Dante. “Maggie said you've been a big help, thanks.”

  My eyes jump to his face. He looks sincere. His soft green eyes are looking down at my hands and realize I'd been running my four fingers over my thumb in a nervous gesture.

  “Really? You're not trying to get me to quit, or take my hours?” I ask, almost confused.

  His head jerks back. “No. Why would you even think that?”

  The bell rings before I have time to answer, not that I'd know how to answer that question anyway.

  I scramble to collect my things when I sense someone move close behind me. “Here I can...” The voice trails off while I clutch my bag to my chest, backing away. I'm on the second floor now looking down at all three of them still gathered on the landing. The other one, Milo, opens his mouth like he might say something and I spin on my heel and flee. Even though my next class is on the first floor and I could use that stairway, I rush over to the main corridor, my mind pulsing with ideas of what they could have wanted from me.

  Five

  Nervous tension has me looking over my shoulder every time I'm in between classes and walking through the halls. It only gets worse when I get near my last hour, art, the only class I share with Dante.

  I busy myself by grabbing my project from the back and making sure my pencil lead is sharp. I've already gathered my example sheets from my backpack so in theory I'm ready, but instead of getting started I'm too busy waiting.

  I know the second he walks in the door, and not because I was looking. I know because I hear Delaney, announcing their arrival. “Bye Dante! I'll see you after class.” He grunts a non-verbal reply.

  “Hey,” he acknowledges me while dropping a well-worn notebook on our shared tabletop.

  “Hi,” I squeak, sounding like a mouse. I'm on edge, I don’t understand why he and the other two boys were looking for me.

  Dante clears his throat and twists in his stool, angling in my direction. But before he can say anything Mr. Adams claps his hands together, calling everyone's attention to the front of the room.

  “With only one week left before your portraits are due, I want to spend a few minutes with each of you to make sure everyone is headed in the right direction. As you all know, three of the top portraits will be selected for the county exhibit.” He slants his head forward and peers at the class from under his brow. “There are several scholarship opportunities available to those selected.” Mr. Adams glances at Dante as he finishes.

  Dante makes a fist on the table, his fingers clenched so tightly his knuckles go white from the pressure. His head is dropped low, not looking toward Mr. Adams at all. There's definitely something bothering him about what Mr. Adams is saying. Maybe he really wants or even needs that scholarship.

  I take a quick second to examine his clothes. My first impression tells me he's not hurting for cash, but that really doesn't mean much. Maybe he's on his own for college. While my eyes pass over his snug black t-shirt, then trail down to his forearm, I notice his skin is darker than mine. Not tan, but more of an olive complexion. He has some thicker veins roping up from his inner elbow and a light dusting of dark hair smattered down to a chunky black leather cuff, which encircles his left wrist. His fingers slowly peel open and he stretches his hand a few times, releasing the pressure from how tightly he was gripping them. His wrist turns and peeking out from under the leather cuff I see a faint black line, like the beginning of a tattoo.

  Does he have a tattoo under there? And if he does why would he cover it up? I speed through a few possibilities, ending on one of the few that makes any sense to me. Maybe he had an old girlfriend’s name tattooed there. Why else would someone go through the pain of a tattoo then cover it up?

  Without thought, I peer up at him and see him staring right back at me. I blink quickly a few times. I can't believe I got caught staring at him, again. He must think I'm a total creeper.

  “You have a tattoo?” The question pops out of my mouth without my brains permission.

  Dante’s eyes widen and his brows shoot up. “How did you...?” The question trails off and he shifts, rolling his shoulders like someone just ran a hand over his back in a cares
s, and he's a big cat rising to meet the touch. His eyes even become heavily lidded. A soft sound comes next, like a content rumble while stretching just after waking up.

  I snap my head forward. Not exactly sure what I'm witnessing, it seems like a relatively intimate moment, but who the hell is he sharing it with? Maybe he's crazy, maybe everyone is crazy, just their own brand of crazy. But I have no experience with this kind of crazy.

  Is it getting hot in here?

  My eyes must be as big as saucers when I finally look back up at Mr. Adams. I've missed half of what he's said, partly because I was staring at Dante, and partly because I still can't concentrate even though I've looked away.

  As soon as Mr. Adams tells everyone to get started, Dante jumps from his seat and stalks over to the teacher. Seconds later he's rushing out the door without looking back.

  I've been watching the clock and the door for Dante’s return, so I know it's been exactly twenty-four minutes when he returns to class. He makes a stop at Mr. Adams’s desk, waiting for the conversation between him and a girl to stop. He raps his knuckles on the wooden surface quickly and they both turn to him. He speaks for a moment then returns to our shared table, while Mr. Adams and the girl stare at his back as he walks toward me.

  The teacher’s eyes catch mine briefly before he gives a tiny shake of his head, seemingly bewildered, and then he looks again to the young lady at his side.

  As soon as Dante sits down, he turns and looks at me, but I ignore it and pretend I'm engrossed in my work. “Laura?” he says hesitantly, seeming unsure.

  “Hmm,” I mumble back.

  “Did someone tell you... we're coming to the diner tonight?” I'm almost positive that wasn't what he was going to say, that he changed it at the last second.

  “Um, no.” I shake my head in denial, confused why he'd asked me that and again a little worried they'll somehow jeopardized my job at Maggie's place.

  “Well, me and the guys will be there. We usually come in a few nights a week.”

  I finally look over at him. He seems stiff, maybe even a little uncomfortable. “Okay,” I drag out the word. “Did you not want me to be there? Cause I'm on shift tonight.”

  Dante lifts his hand and runs it down his face, tugging on his chin a bit. He huffs out a heavy breath. “I already knew you'd be there, we asked Maggie.”

  “And you don't want me to quit?” I question, keeping my eyes below his chin.

  “No.” Now it's his turn to seem confused. “We're all happy that Maggie actually hired you. A few nights a week one of us usually ended up helping, not that we minded but we can't always be there when she needs someone.”

  I can't help the small smile that tugs at my mouth. I'm so relieved I won't need to find another job. I bite the corner of my lip, then refocus on the portrait in front of me which actually looks like it's coming together.

  “Laura,” the teacher calls as the girl he was speaking with passes our station.

  With little thought, I grab for my paper and I end up pushing it across the worktop right toward Dante. His hand reaches out lightning fast and slaps over the paper before it can slide right past him and onto the floor. “Whoa,” I breathe out. He moved so damn fast I barely reacted.

  He looks up at me then slowly slides the paper back over. “Got it,” he replies in a hushed tone.

  I reflexively take the paper from his outstretched hand.

  I shake off all the questions collecting at the tip of my tongue and make my way to Mr. Adams’s desk to discuss my project.

  As we're finishing up Mr. Adams asks, “Would you mind letting Dante know he's up next?”

  I give a quick nod of affirmation while gathering my things.

  “Dante?” His head jerks up from his work when I all but whisper his name.

  “Yeah?”

  “Mr. Adams is ready for you.” His eyes dart from me to the front of the room. He doesn't get up like I expect. Instead, he looks at the clock.

  “There's something else I wanted to talk to you about, will you wait for me if the bell rings?”

  Talk to me? What more could he have to say? He must see the indecision on my face because he rushes out, “It's about what happened in the hallway yesterday.”

  Now I get it. Delaney will be here when class gets over, she said so herself when she called goodbye before art started. I wonder what he expects from me. Is he trying to get me in trouble with her? He doesn't seem like the sort who would try to stir up trouble, but what do I know?

  “I can't, I have to get to the diner.” The excuse falls from my lips almost immediately.

  “Dante,” Mr. Adams calls, pulling my attention my hands where I’ve settled my gaze. Dante huffs out a heavy breath and his stool screeches back when he stands.

  My shoulders round down, he seems pretty put out.

  I can't focus enough to work the last several minutes of class. I've looked at the clock more in the last few minutes than I usually do all hour. When I've managed to peek at the front of the room, Dante appears to watch me.

  I know at any minute the bell will ring and Delaney will be outside the classroom. I don't want to give her the chance to catch me. As my mind processes my encounters with her over the last few days, I realize Dante and his friends said they spend a bit of time at the diner. If he's coming, will she show up too? Now I have a whole other set of worries regarding work.

  The bell rings and it startles me enough that I jump.

  I already put my project away so I'm free to go, in my haste to get out the door I stumble and throw my arms out to catch myself before face-planting into the table next to mine.

  Before my palms hit the surface, I feel a jerking motion around my waist and that strange static electricity dances down my spine. I'm pulled back further and my back hits someone's chest, and I know that person could only be Dante. “Whoa there,” he murmurs in a low voice. I feel the words leave his chest and rumble against my back, because he's holding me that tightly. Strangely, I'm frozen. My arms are still outstretched. I feel a velvet caress on my hip, something I can't explain because the soft brush of what feels like fur is stroking my bare skin.

  In the blink of an eye I'm pushed away from the warm embrace, feeling strangely bereft and off kilter.

  Dante comes from behind, maintaining a decent distance. He crouches so we're eye level and I can't avoid his amber gaze. His eyes are wide. I think he's just as freaked out as I am. “You okay?” he barely whispers.

  I go to reply when I see Delaney brush up to his side, molding herself to him.

  “Just clumsy,” comes my response while my eyes plunge to the floor.

  “Dante, you ready?” Delaney grates out, her voice tight.

  I'm going to pay for this, I almost wish he had let me fall onto the table. That would have been over quickly, but with Delaney, I can tell she is just getting started.

  “I need to get to work,” I explain while dodging around the still entwined couple. Dante turns as I walk past him, as he seemingly ignores the girl attached to his side.

  I shoot one last look over my shoulder before I turn out of the classroom. He hasn't moved an inch. Did he feel that weird static too, the caress?

  I have to force myself to think about anything other than Dante and the fact he told me he'd be at the diner tonight. As I head to the diner, I try to distract myself but my thoughts are still on Dante when I get to work.

  We've been swamped all night. It seems everyone and their sister comes to the diner on Friday nights, in a town this small I guess there isn't much else to do. There's been no sign of Dante or his friends, so maybe he changed his mind about coming, or maybe he's with Delaney. That thought shoots an unreasonable amount of jealousy through my veins. I barely know him, have only spoken to him a few times, and I'm jealous that he's probably with his girlfriend? Ridiculous.

  “Maggie, I'm going to run to the ladies before heading home,” I call out. She's still in the kitchen so I barely hear her muffled reply.

 
After washing up I pull the wad money, mostly comprised of ones, from my apron pocket. The tips are pretty good for a small town. At this rate it won't be too long before we could actually get a small apartment. I put my cash away and rewash my hands before walking out to the diner. I'd already cleaned the bathrooms, so unless Maggie needs anything else I'm set to go.

  “You sure you don't want to call someone for a ride, or stick around for another half hour till I'm done here? I don't mind dropping you off.” She frowns, tapping her pencil against the desk.

  “I'm fine Maggie, it's only a ten-minute walk. I'll see you tomorrow.” I make eye contact, showing my sincerity, then give her a small wave before heading out to the parking lot.

  On the walk home I don't see one car the entire time, which is what I expect for this lonely stretch of road.

  Climbing up the two stairs to our door, I already have my keys out and ready. I glance at the bathhouse, wishing we had a normal bathroom in our camper, before deciding my shower can wait until morning. I can't count how many times I've showered at night and the lights have gone off because the motion sensors weren’t triggered or they were on a timer.

  Mom’s asleep again when I lock the door behind me. Maybe this place is right for us; she's never been able to sleep like this for such extended periods. Usually she can sleep for a day or two after one of her episodes, but she seems to be sleeping well this whole week.

  I pull my tips from the little bag I keep tucked in my bra, and hide most of it in an old box of fish sticks in the freezer. The rest goes with me into the bedroom and gets rolled with some others inside one of my mismatched socks. The stash in the freezer is for RV expenses and food, and this is what I use when I'm in desperate need of clothes or for any other emergencies that pop up. I've got a small nest egg squirreled away, which if you ask me is pretty impressive seeing I'm the only one who's worked the past few years.

  I strip out of my jeans noting I'll need to do a few loads of laundry in the morning before work, since those were my last pair of clean pants. Crawling into bed I let the events of today roll over me. I make a conscious effort not to think of Dante or the warm fuzzy feeling I had when he caught me.