by Kira Nyte
The moment the pancakes hit her tongue, she was done for. The diner’s tagline certainly earned its reputation in that single bite of sweet, fluffy utopia.
Uncle Mark’s spirits seemed to lift as he watched her indulge. “Verdict?”
Ariah nodded, gave him double thumbs up, and dove into another chunk. She couldn’t remember the last time she enjoyed such a simple, yet wonderful, meal. She was acutely aware, however, that her uncle continued to watch her in his perplexingly observant way. She sensed sympathy and regret beneath his calm exterior. In her soul, she felt the blame he placed on himself for her life’s trials. It was like a gray swirling connection that flowed between them, along a link she had sensed since her younger years, but which had dimmed after Miriam came along. Uncle Mark had never explained it, despite her vocal curiosity.
She wondered if he sensed it. If he understood it.
Halfway through her plate of pancakes, her stomach shut down. She couldn’t eat another bite, as much as she wanted to polish off the entire plate.
“Done already?”
Ariah washed down her last bite with coffee and dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “They’re awesome and they’re definitely coming home with me. I’m full, though.”
“You need more meat on your bones. Al will not be happy with me for not taking care of you.”
Ariah paused, her hand slowly lowering from her mouth. “Who?”
“Alazar.”
Ariah gave a short shake of her head, raising her brows. “Who is that?”
Uncle Mark waved away her question and filled his mouth with steak and eggs.
“Uh-uh. No. You’re not sweeping this aside. Who’s Alazar? And why would my well-being concern him?” Ariah pushed her plate to the side and leaned against the table. “Uncle Mark. You don’t give enough information for me to bite and refuse to share the details. I’ve lived with that for the last ten years.”
“He’s a…friend.”
“From what I remember, you have contacts and acquaintances. Not necessarily friends.”
Another tidbit about her uncle she never understood. The man had a huge heart, but distanced himself from people. His marriage to Miriam was a shock, to say the least. Not that their relationship seemed to be star-worthy.
Uncle Mark chuckled. “How well you know me, honey. Alas, things change.”
“I know you can come up with your own passive phrases.” Ariah couldn’t help the smile that crossed her mouth. She propped her chin on her fist and took in the crowd around them. “Wonder if they’re hiring here.”
“Ari, the last thing I want you to worry about right now is working.”
“I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but I need to hold my own.”
Uncle Mark finished up his eggs, laid his fork and knife across the plate, and moved it to the corner of the table. Ariah couldn’t help but wonder what other people saw when they looked at her polished uncle and the ratty, nearly homeless girl sitting with him. At one time, she was so similar to him. Well-kept and groomed, with some social status. Now, they were in stark contrast to each other. She belonged on the opposite side of the tracks.
“I need to order something for Miriam, drop it off to her, then we’ll head toward Main Street and you can do some shopping.”
“Uncle—”
He lifted a hand and cut her with a stubborn look. “No excuses. Don’t think for a moment I haven’t sensed the secrets you’re hiding. Your struggles are plain as day, Ariah. I can read them in your eyes, eyes that are far too old and have seen too much. I can read them in your expressions, the exhaustion and the hopelessness. Since your birth, we have had a connection that goes beyond our familial ties. We both know it.”
“So you have felt it? Why haven’t you said anything until now?” Ariah didn’t take her eyes off her uncle when the server swung back around, boxed up her pancakes, and cleared the table. Her uncle placed a take-out order and handed the server his credit card. “Uncle Mark?”
“There are things that I have tried to tell you. Things you have stowed away in the face of this harsh reality you’ve lived. You must remember and embrace the stories, Ari.”
“Here we go again,” Ariah muttered. She wasn’t going to embrace the dragons. She’d seen too much to believe in such nonsense. When Uncle Mark opened his mouth to rebut, Ariah shook her head. Making sure to keep her voice down so nearby diners didn’t think she was a loon, she said, “Dragons are myths. Legends. They aren’t real. And of all people to be obsessed with them, you’re the last one I’d expect.”
Pain slashed across her uncle’s expression. “Oh, Ariah. What has happened to you?”
“Reality. Bitter, cold reality.” Ariah shoved back her chair. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back. I need to use the restroom.”
She couldn’t escape the dragon talk fast enough. Losing her belief in dragons had been devastating, a tearing of her heart that ached to this day. It was essentially the death of a previous life before she was led into this current life. In a distorted way, she thought the dragons had let her down, as ridiculous a notion as that was.
She had never seen one, but the stories her uncle shared with her were so vivid she could picture their majestic burnished red scales and giant forms. She imagined their heat, smelled the succulent scent of bonfire and spice.
Uncle Mark made them real. Life took them away.
Ariah slipped into the restroom and stood in front of the counter, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles ringed her eyes, eyes as dark as her uncle’s laced with gold. The fringe of her frame-cut bangs both enhanced the angles of her face while obscuring her sallow cheeks. Thankfully, her clothing was a size or two too big, providing a shield over her too-thin frame.
A faint sting touched the corners of her eyes. She twisted on the cold water and splashed her face. Perhaps returning to her uncle’s home wasn’t the smartest idea. His persistence in half-heartedly reigniting dragon stories was a brutal blow to her fragile psyche.
“Where would you go? You have nothing. No job, no home, barely a car, and no money.”
In her heart, though, she knew this was where she needed to be. She’d suffer the dragon talk and deal with the strange stone until she could convince her uncle to stop bringing them up. She’d get help for her father, then find her bearings on life again and make something out of herself yet.
That meant leaving the dragons in the past with the fairytale-believing Ariah.
By the time she returned to the table, her wicked step-aunt’s food had been delivered and the check paid. Uncle Mark led her out to his fancy Jaguar, held the passenger door open for her, then climbed in behind the wheel.
“Where are we going?” Ariah asked, her attention pulled away from the diner and to the upcoming row of stores along Main Street.
“Miriam works at the Nocturne Falls Credit Union. You can wait in the car while I drop off her lunch, if you’d prefer.”
Ariah snorted. “Oh, I think it’ll be far more interesting if I come in.”
* * *
Main Street went by in a blur. Either Uncle Mark was trying to hide the authenticity of the town from her until he brought her shopping, or he was in a mad dash to get to his darling little wife.
Both prospects disappointed Ariah. She twisted and turned in her seat to get a better look at the shops while trying to read the signs and people-watch tourists dressed in Halloween costumes. The first whisper of childhood giddiness caressed her battered soul. The smile that played over her mouth was as genuine as it was involuntary.
She couldn’t wait to explore this town.
Not even the simple one-story building with Nocturne Falls Credit Union on the front could douse her uplifted mood. She climbed out of the car and rubbed her hands together, ready to play the wicked step-niece in a controlled atmosphere. Her uncle wouldn’t let Miriam do a darn thing to her at home, so she knew she was safe to get in some slights and jabs.
The witch deserved so mu
ch more than a few measly insults.
Uncle Mark held open the door for her, casting her a silent warning as she moved past and entered the building. She flashed him a smile and earned a good-natured roll of his eyes.
“Mr. Callahan, how nice to see you again.”
Ariah arched a brow as a young woman scooted out from a desk to the left and hurried over to them. Her uncle shook the woman’s hand. Her eyes lit up. Ariah groaned inwardly, tucking her arms around her body. The small motion drew the woman’s attention from her uncle to pin Ariah with a gaze.
“Oh, who is this you’ve brought with you?”
Uncle Mark wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Sandra, this is Ariah, my lovely niece. She’ll be with me indefinitely.”
Ariah laughed. “At least until I can get back on my feet.”
“I’ve so missed her company.”
“Well, that’s wonderful. Welcome to Nocturne Falls.” The woman clasped her hands together and glanced around. A faint crease formed between her perfectly manicured brows. “Miriam is helping a client and should be done in a minute. Why don’t you take a seat?”
“Thank you.”
Uncle Mark guided her to the upholstered chairs tucked toward the side of the spacious room. Ariah took a seat beside her uncle.
“Fitting place for her to work. Surrounded by money.”
“Ariah.”
Ariah shrugged. “Just stating a fact.”
A door to the side of the room opened, drawing Ariah’s attention. A pretty young woman followed a bank teller through the door, but it was the man behind her that made Ariah’s back straighten. She watched the couple exchange a few words with the teller, the man’s arm around the young woman’s shoulders in a bold statement of possession and adoration. They were a beautiful couple.
As they said their goodbyes to the teller, the woman cast a short glance in Ariah’s direction. Her smile faded a touch. Ariah tried to look away—it would have been the respectful thing to do—but couldn’t. A strange electrical energy hummed beneath her skin the closer the couple came. When she lifted her gaze to the man, she stared into narrowed moss green eyes.
“Mark, my dear.”
Miriam’s voice was nothing more than a hollow essence of the real thing. Ariah sat, helplessly compelled to stare at the couple as they continued toward the doors. The room around her grew hazy along the edges, the man and woman demanding her sole attention. Time seemed to slow.
Look away, girl. Look. Away.
Her mind was not of her own command. The couple watched her with a mixture of curiosity, scrutiny, and something altogether unnerving. For a split second, she thought fire licked across the man’s eyes. When she blinked, the fire was gone. She tried to open her mind, to grasp a thought, an impression, anything that would explain this strange pull.
She received nothing but internal conversations from the other people around her about accounts, budgets, poor decisions, and what to make for dinner.
The man looked away, drawing the woman closer to his side and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Ariah turned her head down and gasped for breath, trying to brush aside the influx of dizziness that left her head in a spin.
What the heck just happened?
A strong hand rested on her shoulder.
“Ariah, are you okay?”
Ariah rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. A wave of heat, followed by cold, rippled down her body. Her arms and legs trembled.
“Yeah, yeah.” She twisted enough to look at the door. The man stood in the open door, the woman with him already outside. There was no mistaking his acute attention on her and her uncle. Uncle Mark’s fingers tightened on her shoulder. That shadowy connection between them flared. Tension coursed down her uncle’s arm and poured into her shoulder.
The man turned away and left. The weight crushing down around Ariah lifted a little, but breathing was still a chore. She tried to force a convincing smile and looked up at Mark and Miriam. The callous glow behind her aunt’s dark eyes and the smirk on her mouth ignited her ire.
Ariah scrunched her face. “You know, Uncle Mark? I was just hit by something terribly…sour. Since you have a stronger stomach than I do, I’m going to”—she hitched her thumb toward the door—“step outside for some fresh air.”
Anger flashed in Miriam’s eyes and hardened her expression. Ariah wiggled her fingers in parting and headed to the door.
The moment she escaped the building, she looked up and down the sidewalk for the couple. Why, she couldn’t be certain. What could she possibly say that wouldn’t sound, well, crazy?
Hey there, not sure if you noticed, but there’s some weird energy coming off you two. She groaned. Yup, that’s a winner.
A moment later, a large SUV pulled around the parking lot and drove past her toward the exit. She got a full-face view of the woman seated in the passenger seat, staring back at her.
“…something so familiar about her…”
The soft female voice fluttered through her mind like a breeze. A single thought, nothing more.
As Ariah watched the SUV turn out of the parking lot and disappear down the road, she wondered in return why there was something awfully familiar about the strange woman.
Chapter Five
Two and a half hours spent sitting in his car, staring at a beautiful looming Georgia mansion on an impressive chunk of land had Alazar stirring in his seat. There was no mistaking the house for Mark’s. His Keeper left a magical fingerprint on everything he touched. The exquisite luxury screamed “Mark”, from the shimmering chandelier visible in the second-story window over the front door to the immaculate landscaping.
The beat-up old Toyota in the driveway, however, waylaid Alazar when he first arrived. He caught the tags, noting their North Carolina imprint, and simmered with curiosity.
The shrill ring of his cell phone startled him out of his thoughts. He fumbled for the device on the passenger seat and swiped the screen to unlock the call. The tip of his half-extended dragon talon scratched the glass.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He rubbed at the mark and groaned, answering the call.
“Hey, Zar. What’s up?”
“Where are you?”
Alazar dropped his head back on the headrest and rolled his eyes to the mansion. “Picked up a gig. Neighborhood crime watch.”
If he stayed parked here much longer, he half expected a cop to come knocking on his window, thanks to some suspicious neighbor.
“Seriously.”
“Yup. New side job to keep me busy while I watch our handyman business dwindle into the dark, dank bowels of a lonesome existence, thanks to your lack of participation. I’m keeping little kiddies safe from runaway balls.”
“You need to come back to Nocturne Falls.”
“Who said I left?”
A grumble crossed the line. “Al, if I were to guess, you tracked your jewel to your Keeper, which I advised against. Regardless, I think you’d like to know that he’s in town.”
“What?” Alazar popped up in his seat and started his car, attention immediately cut from the inactive house. “Are you sure?”
“He’s thirty years older, but he’s always had a strong essence about him. Eyes haven’t changed, neither has his name, but his company has.”
“Not sure I’m getting you, Mr. Cryptic.”
“He had a young woman with him. Looked to be around Kaylae’s age.”
Breath rushed out of his lungs. The world around him pulsed at the very insinuation behind Zareh’s revelation. He hadn’t been able to let go of the feeling that the woman he saw through his jewel was somehow linked to Mark.
He shook his head. He might be carefree and funny, but he wasn’t gullible. “That’s impossible.”
“Two things. First, it’s possible. I saw her with my own eyes. Second, I think I might have made a reference similar to that a few months ago.”
Hope sparked in Alazar’s soul. His dragon coiled
. “He has no children and his brother’s dead. There’s no connection.”
“Don’t be so quick to discount it. Kaylae recognized something in the woman. More instinctual than anything tangible.”
Alazar guided his car around the maze of side roads until he was out of the residential area. He stamped down on the accelerator. The car leaped forward, engine roaring.
“How long ago did you see them?”
“Ten minutes or so. Mark was dropping off food to one of the managers. Kaylae said she caught a thought from the woman about Keepers and dragons when she first arrived in Nocturne Falls. Would make sense if Mark told her about us.”
The news made Alazar’s head spin. Maybe an exorcism would come in handy. Or a drink. Or a game of eight-ball with a nice gold prize at the end.
A nice, long chitchat with Mark would be best. Find out what my Keeper’s been doing all these years. Divulging information, making babies, building fortunes.
“I’m heading back now.” A small grin tugged at his lips. “You little devil. You picked up my cash.”
“What makes you believe that?”
Alazar chuckled. “You don’t bank, have no need to use an institution, but you never closed out Kaylae’s safety deposit boxes. That’s where you kept my stuff, isn’t it? Clever beast.”
“I have your stash. It doesn’t mean you can hit the games on the rebound.”
“Are you going home?” He could use a few bucks. “Or can I meet you somewhere?”
“I’ll leave it at the house.”
“So, what does the woman look like?”
Zareh chuckled. “That, my friend, is for you to find out. I’d hurry back. I doubt they’ll be staying at the credit union for long.”
Alazar was already on it. Judging by the needle on his speedometer, the only thing that would delay him would be flashing lights riding up on his tail.
* * *
Forty minutes, a verbal police reprimand for going thirty over the speed limit, and a written warning later, Alazar guided his Mustang through the credit union’s parking lot. He eyed each of the half-dozen parked cars for a hint that Mark may still be inside. To his displeasure, he saw nothing on wheels that suggested his Keeper lingered—a few older sedans, a pick-up truck, and a bumper-stickered hatchback.
