Amethyst - Book One of the Guardian Series

by Heather Bowhay

  “Alex? Alex? Are you there? Can you hear me?” My dad called out. Actually, anybody within a 20 foot radius could hear him. I grabbed my phone off the floor, silencing the speaker. A couple customers were looking my way with displeasure, and a lady with stark white hair rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  “Hi dad,” I said in a hushed voice. “Sorry. I dropped the phone. I’m here now, but I need to talk quietly; I’m in the book store.” My dad understood right away. Loud people in bookstores were a pet peeve of his, and he promised to be quick. I glanced up at my mystery man. His lips parted, and his eyes sparkled. I had a hard time focusing on my dad’s voice with those eyes watching me.

  “Okay dad. I can do that. I’ll be on the lookout for the box.” My dad rattled on a bit longer, and I studied the floor so I could concentrate on his words. I nodded. “Sure thing. Tell mom I’ll do it, and I’ll send a note to Aunt Louise, too. Yes, I’ll let you both know what I find…love you too – bye.” I tucked the phone back into my pocket and looked up. “My dad, obviously,” I said.

  He flashed a disconcerting grin. “Yeah, I got that much. As did everyone else,” he said in a flagrant tone – the tone I realized he used when he was teasing.

  “Very funny,” I said. “Anyways, my Aunt Louise, who still lives in my grandparent’s house, that’s where she and my mom grew up, is having the roof redone. I guess the workers found an old box of books hidden in the attic. Since my aunt is an allergy magnet and rarely opens a book, she didn’t want them.” When he nodded and grinned, I almost lost my train of thought, so I blinked hard and focused on the scar in his eyebrow – anywhere away from his lips. “She sent them to my mom, who is super busy and has decided I should go through them.”

  Rubbing his chin, he looked at me curiously for a few seconds. “Sounds like it could be interesting. You never know what you might find. Rare books, hidden treasures, ancient family history…” his voice drifted off, and he pointed at me. “From that one phone call I’ve learned quite a bit about you. Most importantly, though, is that your name is Alex.”

  I regarded him steadily and said with a dab of irritation, “Well, Alex is not really—”

  “Alex fits you perfectly,” he cut in. “I like it.”

  I was going to correct him, but for some reason, I didn’t. I liked the way he said it, and not that I’d admit it, but it seemed more intimate coming from him. For some reason, I welcomed that closeness. The music changed completely, and a rough and tumbling Celtic song started up. “You have me at a disadvantage,” I said, tilting my head to one side. “You now know my name, but yours is still a mystery.”

  He leaned in close until we were at eye level and said in a low, lingering voice, “Why do you want to know? Is it simple courtesy?” He bit his lower lip. “Or do you find me charming?”

  Oh brother! If that’s how he wanted to play the game – fine; let’s see if he could catch a long ball. I reached out and poked my finger against his chest. He took a quick, jagged breath, and his pupils grew larger. Good to see I could fluster him. “You wish,” I said suggestively. Unable to resist the temptation any longer, I reached up and touched his chin. His mouth parted, and I pulled my hand away. “But really,” I said sweetly, “I was just being polite.”

  He gave me that women can be so confusing look, shook his head, and said, “Good. Because I’m not looking for any type of relationship.”

  I almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of that comment. “Don’t worry, neither am I,” I said hotly. As if premonitions, Amethysts, and mortality weren’t enough to deal with, the last thing I needed was an exasperating, yet wickedly handsome man to complicate things. “Besides, you’re hardly my type,” I said brusquely.

  He scratched his head and replied just as tersely, “Fine then. My name is Jason.”

  I nodded slowly but didn’t break eye contact. Perfect, I thought.

  A somber expression returned to his face, and he said, “Well Alex, thanks again for coming to my rescue the other day. I’ll let you get back to browsing. Maybe I’ll catch you around some time.” With a quick nod, and without even waiting for me to respond, he simply turned and walked away.

  Having been so abruptly dismissed, I stood for several seconds in absolute confusion. Why did my heart suddenly feel so heavy? Since he didn’t bother to glance back over his shoulder, I turned and made a bee-line for the stairs. After a few steps, I stopped and wondered when I’d become so gutless. Why let him scare me off? I had just as much right to peruse the fantasy section as he did. My time might be limited, but there were still some books I wanted to read. Gathering my gumption, I marched back up the stairs and didn’t stop until I reached the Katherine Kerr books. More than aware that Jason’s gaze flickered my way, I refused to acknowledge him. That didn’t slow my pounding heart or stop the dampness forming on the nape of my neck.

  Someone stepped between us and grabbed a book off the shelf, so I looked up to see who was in the way. A guy with dark hair, dark eyes, and an over abundance of men’s cologne peered back at me and smiled brightly. “Hi,” he said, leaving me wondering when exactly the bookstore had become such a man haven.

  I could see Jason sizing him up from behind, and when his eyes met mine, he gave me a cold stare. Tilting my chin in the air, I shot him a dirty look. Assertively, I made eye contact with the newcomer and responded with a friendly, “Hello.”

  Stepping towards me with his arm outstretched, he said, “I’m Tyson. What’s your name brown eyes?” With a cheesy grin, he stood waiting for me to shake his hand, and Jason snorted from behind him. Even if I’d wanted to shake hands, which I didn’t, I couldn’t, because I sneezed four times and launched into a coughing fit. His cologne was overpowering, like a nasty bug repellent.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Doubled over, I gasped for breath as tears began streaming down my face; it was all I could do to hold up my index finger.

  “Alex,” Jason said in an imposing voice, stepping forward, “it’s time we took off. I’m ready for lunch.” My head snapped up, but all I could do was nod.

  After catching a glimpse of Jason, the guy put his hands up defensively and backed away. “Sorry man,” he muttered. He set his book on the shelf and bolted toward the stairs.

  “Thanks for saving me,” I said, wiping my eyes.

  Jason shook his head disgustedly. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was asking out of obligation or not, so I decided to let him off the hook. “Oh that’s not necessary…” I started to say.

  He cut in, “I won’t take no for an answer, and I can’t leave you here. You might die from an allergy attack if that guy gets within a ten foot radius. I won’t be responsible for an innocent person’s death. Besides, I’ve recently discovered what a rush it is to save people,” he added cheerfully. “I wouldn’t pass up another opportunity to rescue someone, especially a damsel in distress. In fact, I might make it a full time job.”

  His words struck me like a bolt of lightning, and my head snapped up. With an expression of total disbelief, I stared at him. Suddenly, I felt paralyzed; even my heart stopped beating. A wave of nausea over took me; my temperature spiked at least ten degrees.

  Jason looked at me funny. “Hey, are you okay? Did I say something wrong? I wasn’t trying to make light of the accident a couple weeks ago. I might be joking around with you right now, but saving that woman and her kids was a serious matter. On a personal level it was also very rewarding.” He smiled, “You rescued me, so you should understand how gratifying it is to save someone. Right?” His eyebrows shot up.

  I felt like I’d been slapped in the face a thousand times over. The weight of his words made me dizzy.Made me feel even guiltier. Yes, I knew how good it could feel to save people, but I also knew how all-encompassing and exhausting it was. Still, hearing those words from him hit me hard and sparked something within me, a feeling I couldn’t identify.

  Having been silent too long, I knew I nee
ded to respond. He made me feel alive, in a way I hadn’t felt for ages. It felt good. A smile passed over my lips. “You’re right. Helping you was amazing, but you’re the hero who saved three lives. I should buy you lunch.”

  He gave me a puzzled look and said, “Alex, you perplex me. But lunch is definitely on me.”

  “Okay,” I said. “And thanks – that guy was toxic.” I brushed the tip of my nose.

  “Does trouble find you, or do you find it?” he said, placing the book back on the shelf.

  “That depends,” I said. “Did you find me, or did I find you?”

  “Very funny,” he said, but his eyes were sparkling. “Do you like fish-n-chips?”

  “Of course,” I said and sneezed again, “but let’s get going, I need some fresh air.” I didn’t want to be face to face any more. He stole my breath away, and I was already short on oxygen. Furthermore, I needed a moment to collect my thoughts. I’d walked into the bookstore with a different perspective on life than I was walking out with – all because of Jason, the maniac runner.

  CHAPTER 7 – LUNCH

  Despite boundless, white clouds, the afternoon was warm and humid. “So, where we headed?” I asked.

  “Just down the block.” He pointed. “Have you eaten at the fish bus?”

  “Nope, I’m new to Bellingham.”

  “You’ll love it. Great food, fun outdoor atmosphere, and a million different ice cream flavors.”

  “Uh oh, you’ve found my weakness,” I admitted.

  “Good.”

  Feeling like a dizzy, 15 year old girl, I looked away and wondered what the heck was wrong with me. Guys just did not affect me this way. All of a sudden, a couple kids on skateboards zipped past, and I fell against Jason.

  “I…I…I’ve got ya,” he stuttered and caught me. For a brief instant, time stopped as he held me half suspended in the air.

  My first reaction was to laugh at the irony of the whole situation, but then I felt it. Again. That incredible warmth radiating between his hands and my arms. I felt like I’d just reached the summit of Mt. Rainier and was experiencing a euphoric high. With Jessica’s Essence theory running rampant through my mind, I realized I’d progressed from imagining the energy flowing to actually feeling it. I was crazier than she was. Once I met his eyes, I could see something was wrong. He looked like he’d been overtaken by altitude sickness. With his jaw set tight, he winced and shoved me back to my feet.

  “Are you okay?”I asked as he shook his hands madly in front of him.

  “I’m fine,” he answered gruffly. “Crazy kids. They should be more careful.”

  I shot him a look of disapproval but tried to lighten the mood by saying, “No harm done.”

  “I suppose,” he said gruffly.

  Feeling rather offended, I said, “You’re obviously upset, and I get the feeling I’ve made you uncomfortable. Maybe we should just skip lunch…”

  At that suggestion his head snapped up, and he took a step closer. “Alex, I’m fine. We’re doing fish & chips today.” My jaw dropped, and he said in a more controlled voice, “Sorry.” He sighed and took a deep breath. “And I’m sorry how I reacted. I just don’t do well when my personal space is invaded. It has nothing to do with you, so don’t take it the wrong way.”

  Yeah right, I thought. “Sure, whatever,” I said, taking a step back. I was surprised when he flinched. He seemed agitated no matter what I did. He was tough to read, and I certainly didn’t need more turmoil. “I’ll just take a rain check–”

  “No!” he said firmly, and my eyes widened. Softening his expression, he said, “I mean, please don’t abandon me. I’d really like to buy you lunch.”

  Leery of his Jekyll and Hyde personality but inexplicably drawn to him, I finally agreed. As we walked along, he talked about his favorite places in Fairhaven. The guy in front of us kept yelling into his cell phone and stopping abruptly, so we maneuvered around him. Jason swore by the African Peanut Soup at the Colophon Café. He teased that the next time I saved him he’d take me there for lunch. Playing along, I vowed I’d hold him to that promise.

  When we arrived at the red, double-decker bus, which had apparently been converted into a small kitchen with deep fryers, Jason said, “You find a spot, and I’ll go order.”

  “Okay. A regular fish and chips works for me,” I called after him.

  He whipped around. “What? Do you have something against halibut?” He looked almost hurt.

  “Well, no,” I said hesitantly, “but that’s gotta be a lot more expensive.”

  He shook his head disgustedly. “So, two halibut and chips. What to drink?”

  “Water is fine.”

  “What? Are you trying to save me money again,” he accused.

  “No,” I laughed. “Really, I always drink water.”

  “Okay, but you better like ketchup and tartar. I’d hate to find out you douse your fish in vinegar.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Tons and tons of tartar and ketchup, and no vinegar. Are you happy now?”

  “Very,” he said as he strode away. I sat down at the only empty picnic table. Enclosed behind a wrought iron fence, the courtyard allowed unobstructed views of the sidewalks, streets, and businesses. People window shopped at leisurely paces, while others scurried along, seemingly intent upon a destination.

  Jason returned after a couple minutes and handed me a cup with ice water.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Hey,” I accused with a chuckle and tapped his cup of ice water, “were you trying to save yourself some money?”

  “I know I gave you a bad time, but I’m not big on soda. Too much sugar and horrible for your teeth.” He grinned, showing off a perfectly straight set of white teeth, and I couldn’t help but thinking how much my dad would like him. “So what’s your vice?” he asked curiously. “Wait. Let me guess. Coffee?”

  “Nope, can’t stand the bitter taste.” I made a face and stuck out my tongue.

  “No coffee and no soda. Juice?”

  I made a sour face.

  He chuckled. “Must be tea.”

  “Love the smell but I don’t really like hot drinks.”

  He squinted. “That leaves nothing but an ice cold beer.”

  “Sorry, try again.”

  “Okay, I’m running out of ideas.” He shrugged. “Wait,” he held a finger in the air, “I’ve got it. You’re a chocoholic and if you’re not drinking water you’re downing chocolate milkshakes.”

  “Unbelievable.” I snorted. “For your information Mr. Nosy, I’m allergic to chocolate.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes really.” I tapped my fingers against the picnic table.

  “Wild. Allergic to chocolate. And is it that you don’t like beer or that you just don’t drink?”

  “I don’t drink. Period.”

  “You say that like there’s a story to tell,” he said, looking at me expectantly.

  I swallowed hard. “A long story. Maybe I’ll tell ya about it sometime.” He looked at me funny, so I added, “No, it’s not what you’re thinking. I wasn’t in a drunk driving accident or anything like that.”

  “That’s not what I was thinking.” He rested his arms on the table and continued with another inquisition. “So, how old are you?”

  “Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “I’m 18. How about you?”

  “Can’t reveal that information,” he said with a devilish grin. “But I’m older than you.”

  I gave him a dirty look. “Do you enjoy being infuriating?”

  “All part of my charm,” he said with a wink. He changed the subject and talked about music and his favorite local bands. Deep and rich, his voice was soothing and held me captivated. His oval-shaped face was perfectly balanced, and his classic square jaw and strong chin made him even more appealing. My heart rate quickened, and I scolded myself for being susceptible to his physical attributes.

  “
So, the Up & Up is popular with the college crowd, and The Fairhaven hosts great live music, but you’re gonna have to wait a few years…” he was saying.

  “Jason, your order’s up. Jason,” a lady called from behind the bus counter. I noticed she smiled broadly when she caught his eye.

  As I started to rise, he shook his head and gestured for me to sit back down. He returned carrying two fish baskets and an obscene amount of tartar and ketchup. My eyes widened, and I said, “Are you nuts?”

  He chuckled. “You said you liked your condiments. I’m just trying to please the lady.”

  I smiled broadly. Another touchdown; he was good. An image of him performing a crazy celebration dance in the end zone formed in my head, and I started laughing.

  Looking totally bewildered, he asked, “What’s so funny? Did I miss something?”

  “Sorry.” I bit my lip. “Inside joke.”

  “Let me in on it,” he said. I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “Oh come on.”

  I exhaled loudly and said, “Fine. You asked for it. Can you dance?”

  He looked confused. “I guess. Why?”

  “Well, you scored a touchdown for being such a gentleman. And of course, bringing all the tartar sauce gave you extra points, too. I was cracking up at the thought of you performing a crazy, touchdown dance.”

  He looked at me doubtfully. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope.” I shook my head popped a French fry in my mouth. “I never kid when it comes to football. So,” I pointed at him, “are you gonna get up and dance for me or what?”He raised a brow, but shocked me when he jumped up and actually danced next to our table.

  I almost choked on my food; he certainly wasn’t lacking in charisma.“Nicely done.” I clapped my hands as he took a bow. “You appear to have another fan,” I said and nodded towards a little girl who was jumping up and down, pointing at him.

  He spun around, but she dodged behind her mother’s skirt. “You a big Seahawk fan?” he asked breathlessly as he sat back down.