The Accidental Kiss

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The Accidental Kiss Page 5

by Nicole Simone


  “Enough conversation,” freak number one commanded. “We have to get her to the van.”

  Frederick let go of my arm while freak number one took control. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me to their vehicle. My legs kicked widely as a blood-curdling scream broke the silence of the night. Nonetheless, the houses on my block remained shrouded in darkness and nobody came to my rescue. I was alone. Frederick swung open the doors of the van. To my surprise, there weren’t tools of torture lying about, only a bare trunk with a metal floor and a random backpack. Still, I knew as soon as I entered the vehicle, I might as well count myself as dead. Freak number one loosened his grasp on my scalp. Seizing my opportunity, I twisted out of his hold. My chest burned as I booked it down the street. However, in my panic induced state, there was one thing that slipped my mind: their inhuman like speed. Frederick closed in on me like a lighting bolt and struck without remorse. Ringing sounded in my ears as he landed a blow to my jaw. Before I could crumple to the ground, he gathered my bloodied and bruised body into his arms. The world around me melted into a canvas of black and gray. He deposited me onto the metal floor of the van and closed the doors behind us. Bringing my knees to my chest, I curled into a ball.

  “Give me your arm,” freak number one growled. When I didn’t give comply, he yanked it hard enough to almost dislocate my shoulder. I blinked back tears.

  His fingers tapped my skin as if he was looking for a vein. With sickening clarity, I realized they were going to do exactly what Daemon described. Bleed me dry until there was nothing but a husk left.

  “Aw, that’s a good one,” freak number one looked approvingly at a bright blue vein on my forearm.

  While he was lusting after my veins, Frederick tied a thick rope around my ankles and then secured my free hand to a metal pipe. As soon as Frederick was sure I wasn’t going anywhere, he opened the backpack. I watched through swollen eyes as he removed several pint bags, a needle and a long plastic tube.

  “She’s ready.” Freak number one outstretched his palm.

  Frederick handed over the needle attached with the tube. I fought against my restraints as the silver needle grew closer to my skin. At the last second, I averted my gaze and felt a tiny pinprick. When opened them again, I saw a bag quickly filing with bright red liquid.

  Freak number one’s gaze was bright with morbid glee. “This might take awhile. Sit back and slip into oblivion.”

  Fury snaked through my body. “You sick assholes, you won’t get away with this,” I yelled.

  They looked at me, grinning. “You were born for this. Might as well accept your fate,” Frederick said.

  What was he talking about? This wasn’t a Pantene commercial. I wasn’t born to have my blood drained out of my body and left to die.

  “Now shut up. It will all be over soon.” Freak number one stuffed a rag in my mouth that tasted like bitter chemicals.

  My head soon grew heavy. Their faces became distorted, sounds slowed, and the scene around me dimmed. I could feel it in my bones. The end was near.

  Suddenly the doors of the van exploded into shards of metal. As if I was peering through a thick layer of gaze, I observed the commotion around me. Frederick and freak number one scrambled backwards. They reached for their weapons at their hips but they weren’t quick enough. Blood spattered the walls as their bodies jerked from the impact of a gunshot. Squeezing my eyes shut against the violence, I willed it to all be over. Darkness tugged at my subconscious where death awaited. Before I succumbed, a voice spoke.

  “I told you not to walk alone at night.”

  When I died, I imagined Melissa would be waiting for me at the end of a dark tunnel. Her mangled body transformed into who she was before the accident—the definition of beauty with her high cheekbones and sculpted lips. Melissa would tangle her arms around my waist in a hug. Eyes bright with gossip, she would tell me about what heaven was really like. How the angels fraternized with the humans when they weren’t supposed to, how the food tasted like gum drops and most importantly, how she found happiness. This ideal scenario was what helped me manage my guilt because at the end of the day, Melissa should have lived.

  A cloud made of pillows contoured around my body as I snuggled deeper into the cocoon. I opened my eyes than shut them again when the light reacted painfully with my head. What the hell did I do last night to warrant a hangover? I moaned and turned on my stomach. A dull throb ached behind my ribs. Shit. I sprang up right in bed as the events of last night came rushing back to me. Trapped in a van, my blood being drained out of my body, and then finally as death was about knock on my door, being rescued. I pulled my pajama sleeve up to find a bright red pinprick on my skin. My hands did an additional damage check. Besides the black and purple bruise on my ribs, I was damage free. Although, starving.

  “I won’t complain if you want to take off your bottoms as well.”

  I let out a squeak and turned my head in the direction of my closet. Daemon stepped out of the shadows. The light from my bedside table cast a warm glow over his drawn features. His t-shirt was ripped at the hem where it showed off his v-line.

  I self-consciously tugged the sheets to my chin. “How long have you been here?”

  His eyes crinkled with humor. “Since I saved your sorry ass.”

  “So it was you.”

  “Yes it was. And thank God too, you had only seconds to live when I busted those doors off the van.”

  A flashback of blood spattering the walls swam in my vision. I thought the voodoo priest zombies were immortal like Daemon.

  “You killed them,” I said slowly.

  “I did.” When he witnessed the confusion in my gaze, Daemon answered my unspoken question. “Nobody is immortal. Everybody has a weakness, Sky.” Before I could ask what his was, Daemon grinned. “Don’t I at least get a thank you?”

  Lost in the black hole of last night’s events, his words fell on deaf ears. Nausea turned my stomach at the realization of how close I had come to death. Those freaks would have taken my blood and left me to rot. To them I was merely a blood blank.

  “What happened?” I murmured. “ I mean, how did I survive? I lost a lot of blood.”

  Daemon settled into a chair next to my bed and plopped his bare feet on my duvet cover. “I brought you to a healing priestess where she worked her magic on you. Supposedly, it was touch and go for a while but you pulled through. Mrs. Lola said you’re a fighter.”

  “How did she heal me?”

  Daemon shrugged. “No idea. I wasn’t in the room.”

  Great, that was just great. This high priestess could have stolen my kidney because why not? It seemed like everything in my body was up for grabs as of late. I covered my head with a bed sheet and peeked under my shirt.

  “What the hell are you doing, Sky?” Daemon asked.

  “Double checking for stitches. Since you didn’t have the foresight to head into the room with me, you have no idea what Mrs. Lola did.” I said her name in a mocking tone.

  “First of all, not all priests are bad and overcome with power. Some actually help the community, like Mrs. Lola.” The sheet was jerked away. “And second of all, I’ve already seen everything so you don’t need to hide.”

  My eyes widened. “You have seen everything?”

  “Who else do you think put you in pajamas?”

  I sputtered, overcome with a wide range of emotions, violated was at the top.

  Daemon laughed and patted my knee. “I’m joking, Sky. I didn’t see EVERYTHING. If you didn’t notice, you still have your bra and panties on.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” I screeched. Especially since I wasn’t wearing my finest underwear.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Does it make you feel better if I told you, you looked beautiful?”

  “When? Now or when I was half dead?”

  Daemon’s eyes darkened as his gaze wandered over my face. “Always.”

  My heart sputtered in my chest. Damn, he was good a
t the one-liners. He tucked the sheets around my legs and rose from the chair.

  “You’re leaving?”

  He smiled at the panic in my voice. “I haven’t slept and it’s almost three a.m.”

  “But I thought you don’t need sleep.”

  “Of course I need sleep.”

  “You can sleep here,” I said, surprising the both of us.

  The truth was, the dark had always frightened me and after what went down last night, there was no way I could fall asleep without somebody next to me. Also, the thought of Daemon’s body pressed against mine warmed me to my very core.

  “I can’t sleep in the chair. It’s not big enough to fit a toddler, let alone me.”

  “You can sleep in my bed but you have to leave in the morning before my mom wakes up around six.”

  He cocked his head as if he still wasn’t sure I was lying or not and, based on our short history, wasn’t surprising. I’d only known Daemon a day but our feelings toward each other bordered on bipolar disorder. One minute I hated him and the next I was inviting him to sleep next to me. Granted, Daemon did save my life. The least he deserved was a good night’s rest.

  “Ok,” he said reluctantly. “But if you try anything I won’t stop you.”

  A grin tilted up my lips as I shifted over to make room. My ribs screamed in protest. Doing the vertical tango was the last thing on my mind. That was until Daemon threw off his shirt. His abs were perfectly toned, his shoulders broad, and his arms looked as if they were carved out of marble.

  I take that back.

  His entire chest looked as if it was carved out of marble. Were all zombies as hot as Daemon?

  He caught me drooling over him. “Take a picture, it might last longer.”

  A deep blush heated my cheeks. Grumbling, I lied down, shut off the lights, and closed my eyes. A second later the bed sunk from Daemon’s weight. Acutely aware of him, my body buzzed. He rolled over, brushing my thigh with his hand. I bit my lip from gasping.

  “You’re burning to the touch.” Concern laced his voice. “Come here.”

  If his fingers brushing my thigh almost did me in, I couldn’t handle any more contact. But it wasn’t up for discussion. Daemon scooted until he was pressed up against my back.

  “Holy shit.” I jerked away from him. “You’re like a popsicle.”

  “No blood flow, remember? But it’ll help your temperature. Come back.”

  Gingerly, I molded my body against his. We were like fire and ice, but surprisingly I felt my breathing slow as sleep took hold.

  The morning sunshine filtered through my window. I kicked off my covers and glanced at the other side of the bed. Daemon was gone. A weird pang of disappointment churned in my stomach. As grudgingly as I didn’t want to admit it, Daemon wasn’t who I perceived him to be. He was still annoying, but last night showed me he could also be incredibly caring. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and marched into the bathroom to wash the grime off my skin. I turned on the shower to scalding hot. Steam enveloped the bathroom. My fingers gripped the edge of the sink as I stared at myself in the mirror. On my forehead, a nasty red cut stood out against my pale skin. I probably got it when my head hit the sidewalk last night. Grabbing a Band-Aid from the medicine cabinet, I placed it over the scratch. You would think that if the voodoo priestess could bring me back to life, she could also heal a small wound. Now, I had to explain how I injured myself to my mom.

  Twenty minutes later, squeaky clean and ready for school, I wandered into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. My mom and Laura sat at the dining room table, deeply engrossed in a conversation. At the sight of my presence, they stopped talking.

  My heart caught in my throat. “What?”

  “What?” My mom eyes shimmered with anger. “Is that all you say, Sky? Where were you last night?”

  Double crap. I should have figured Daemon didn’t get me home last night before ten p.m. rolled around.

  “I went for a walk,” I answered lamely.

  “You went on a walk for four hours?” My mom caught sight of the Band-Aid. “And what happened to your forehead?”

  I raised my fingers to the cut. How the hell was I going to explain that two freaks kidnapped me and almost drained me of my blood?

  I went with half the truth, which was better than lying. “I forgot to wear my glasses and tripped over a bump in the sidewalk.”

  My mom raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing a word out of my mouth. “And where you did go on this four hour walk without your glasses?”

  “The park…”

  She let out a heavy sigh as she stood up and took her coffee mug to the counter. Her shoulders sagged underneath the heavy burden of not knowing. I wanted to confess everything, however, that would only makes things worse. Besides, what could my mom do? Move to another town? She loved her job and this kooky little house. Daemon and I had to fight this battle on our own.

  Never a fan of more than five seconds of silence, Laura tapped her fork on her plate. “I have an announcement.” My mom and I turned our attention over to her. “I’m pregnant.”

  I immediately glanced at her slightly round stomach, which I had figured was due to overindulging in her baked goods. A baby had never crossed my mind. Laura could hardly take care of herself, let alone a child.

  At our shocked reactions, she doubled over in peels of laughter. “I am joking.” She said between breaths. “A baby! Can you imagine? What a disaster.”

  My mom looked like she wanted to dump the coffee pot over her friend’s head. “What the hell, Laura? That’s not funny.”

  Laura inched her forefinger and thumb together. “It’s a little funny. Besides I had to say something. It felt like a funeral home in here.”

  “That’s what happens when your teenage daughter is keeping secrets.”

  She was the pot calling the teakettle black. Up until two days ago, my mom had been sitting on a life-altering secret that would change the course of my future.

  I stuck my hand on my hip. “You do know you’re contradicting yourself right now, right?”

  “How so?”

  “You’re joking?”

  My mom looked at me blankly as if she didn’t see the correlation. The crack in my sanity grew into a gaping hole. A manic laugh bubbled out of my throat. Concern flashed over my mom’s features and she took a step in my direction but Laura shook her head as if she knew consoling wouldn’t help me. Nothing would. There wasn’t a map to navigate this newfound reality I found myself living in, and frankly it was a dark path to walk alone. Luckily, Daemon had been my support and savior these past two days but it was hard to accept that my existence as a normal teenager girl was gone. That I was a walking freak with magical lips.

  “How do you know I have this gift?” I challenged my mom. “For all you know, I could see nothing when I kiss the person I love. Zilch, nada, nothing.”

  The crowfeet around her eyes crinkled. “It’s written in your destiny, Sky, there is no changing that.”

  “That’s not a very satisfying answer,” I grumbled.

  “I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you something tangible like you have a birth mark shaped like a kiss or that your eyes tell a thousand stories.” I raised an eyebrow and my mom grinned. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just trying to say is that I’m sorry I can’t give you more. More answers, more explanations, anything to make this gift an easier pill to swallow. The truth is though that I’m just as lost as you are. My mother simply left the book on my bed one day and told me the bare facts.”

  Sighing, I ran my hand through my hair and gazed at the checkered tiles on the kitchen floor. “It’s not fair.”

  “I know it isn’t, but don’t think of the eye of knowledge as a burden but as a gift.”

  That was easy for her to say. Who knows what I will see when the day comes?

  My mom wrapped me into a hug and her citrusy perfume wafted under my nose. “I love you, sweetie.”

  “I love you too.”


  Once we separated, I felt a smidge better about the deck of cards I had been handed. Nonetheless, a part of me was aware my acceptance of my gift wouldn’t happen until it was activated. God rest my soul.

  “You weren’t with this Daemon character when you want on that walk, right?” When she saw me hesitate, she jumped down my throat. “Sky, I told you he was trouble.”

  Trouble wouldn’t be the word I would use. Daemon saved my life; there was no going around that.

  The lies kept rolling off my tongue at an alarming speed. Normally, I was awful at deceit. “I was alone. Don’t have a conniption.”

  Laura took this moment to cut in. “Since when you do speak Yiddish?”

  “Since Melissa taught me.”

  “Did she teach you anything else? My old boyfriend spoke a little but only when he was yelling at me. I have always wanted to….” My mom cut her off with a death glare. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Don’t be.” I went over to the coffee maker where I poured a mugful. “We are done with this conversation.”

  My mom sighed again, obviously giving up. “Fine, but be careful. Whatever you’re doing.”

  “I will.”

  The dark black elixir smelled heavenly as I inhaled its aroma deeply. First cup of the day was always the best.

  “You were born for this. Might as well give into your fate.”

  The freak’s voice popped into my head, startling me. Coffee sloshed over the rim onto the counter. With shaking hands, I ripped off a piece of paper towel and cleaned up the mess. Was the freak spewing nonsense or was there truth behind his words? Was I born to only be sacrificed?

  When I got to first period, Daemon was nowhere to be found. An irrational part of me was worried he had been kidnapped and was now suffering the same fate I had encountered last night. Most likely though, he skipped school because he was exhausted. I stifled a yawn as the coffee buzz wore off. Mr. Tucker scrawled a list of talking points on the whiteboard. Normally, I would be gung ho about nerding out on literature, but my attention was elsewhere. My gaze wandered outside where the sun was hiding between a thick mass of clouds. The past two days had been one surprise after another. If I had to pick, the biggest surprise was a voodoo priest wanted to drain me of my blood because, why? I had two guesses. Either because I was the ‘chosen one’ or because it was my fate to die. What does the ‘chosen one’ even mean? And what does the voodoo priest gain from my blood? Sighing, I pinched the bridge of my nose. I should have let Daemon hand over the information to me yesterday. Random doodles filled my notebook as my brain churned over and over.

 

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