Kasian Publishing
PO Box 211205
Eagan, MN 55122
www.KristinVanRisseghem.com
Copyright © 2015 Kristin D. Van Risseghem
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses,
places, events and incidents are either the products
of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Marya Heiman, Strong Image Editing
www.StrongImageEditing.com
Author photograph by Jessica Krueger Photography, www.JessicaKruegerPhotograhy.com
Graphics Contributors, Theresa Knight/BigStockPhoto.com.
All rights reserved.
ISBN - 13: 978-1-943207-00-8 (Paperback)
ISBN - 13: 978-1-943207-09-1 (Kindle)
To my husband, who stands behind me
as my own personal cheering section.
This is for you, babe.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Acknowledgements
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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The Prince, a Betrayal, & a Kiss
(An Enlighten Series Short Story).
Go to: www.KristinVanRisseghem.com
I stumbled into Kieran as a tremor moved through me. Hairs on my arms stood at attention like tiny lightning rods. “Do you feel that?” my voice sounded breathless, even to me.
He glanced sideways, “Feel what?”
“Look.” I held out my arms to him. “I feel strange. Like someone . . .” I rubbed my slightly numb hands over my forearms and sucked in a breath, as he hooked his head around. I fell into step beside him. “Never mind. It’s probably nothing.”
This happens when lightning’s about to strike, right?
The heat from the sun radiated off the few cars parked along Boutique Row, their owners engaged in mid-afternoon shopping. Store fronts displayed the new and trendy “must-have” dresses, shorts, and shoes for the spring season. I paused to see my reflection. Not a hair was out of place. Thank God.
The Coffee Grind’s signature cinnamon dessert scent wafted through the air and my teeth hurt with the memory of sinking them into it time and again. What I wouldn’t give to be able to park my back end on one of their leather wing-back chairs and crack open a book, while the fire crackled next to me in the original stone hearth.
“Earth to Zoe,” Kieran’s gentle voice broke my trance. He poked my shoulder. “Are you going to order or what?”
My face flamed. “You could’ve ordered for me.” I rummaged through my purple backpack. “You know I get the same thing every time.”
Kieran watched me rub my arms, as he told the cashier, “She’ll also have an ice water.” He tilted his head toward the menu board. “Anything else?”
“Did you order me a chai?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Cause you know I can’t function without a good cup of—”
“You can’t function with it, either.”
Then I turned my attention toward the clerk, unsure if I recognized him or not. I hope he doesn’t know me. “Nothing else. Thanks.” I handed him some bills.
“How’s track going, Zoe?” the clerk asked.
Damn.
“Think you’ll make it to State?”
I realized he was a sophomore on the team. Our paths crossed during several meets. He looked thin in his black polo shirt, and I knew a mirror would reflect a similar physique in me, though my lavender sundress tried to disguise it.
I shrugged. “I have fast times, but we’ll see. If I don’t make it this year, there’s always senior year.”
My fingertips skimmed the glass display of mammoth muffins and assorted pastries as we moved down the aisle to the “Pick-up Here” sign. A heavy coffee aroma hung in the air.
A figure in dark clothing with yellow-tipped, spiked hair stared at me from outside the glass entrance door. His eyes narrowed on contact with mine.
Chills rushed through my body.
“Order for Zoe.”
I bumped into another patron when I heard my name. The white lid flew off the small paper cup in Kieran’s hand.
“Hey, watch it—” A female patron grabbed her Coach purse and hugged it tight against her body.
I hopped back, as the hot liquid splashed onto the floor, saving my Converses from coffee stains. Kieran ran behind me to the supplies table and grabbed a wad of napkins. An older Asian barista with a black ponytail emerged from behind the counter, shaking her head.
“Oh, no,” she said, putting a hand on Kieran’s arm as he reached to clean up my mess. “You don’t have to—”
“Don’t worry.” Kieran gave her a wink. “I got it.” He looked up at the other customer. “I’m sorry.”
He dumped the soaked napkins into the trash, and the barista handed him a pink Gerbera daisy from the vase of brightly colored flowers behind the counter.
“Thanks,” she said. “Now, go have fun. Enjoy the beautiful day with your girl.”
I didn’t bother to correct her. As I swung my backpack over my shoulder, I grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that. Have a great afternoon.”
I looked around for the stranger with yellow tips as we stepped outside, but there were only shoppers bustling along the sidewalk. I lifted a hand to shield my eyes against the sunlight, then I lowered it when Kieran handed me the flower. He walked ahead of me, but after a few steps, he stopped and glanced back. A ray of light cut through the white clouds and fell on him, casting a halo around his golden hair and bathing his khaki pants and cream-colored shirt with light. He’d rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms, and I couldn’t help but think that he looked . . . attractive.
Wow. When had I started seeing Kieran like that?
Kieran was the nicest of guys, the kind who always helped those in need. He’d also taken care of me for as long as I could remember. Back in kindergarten, a classmate had tried to take my new lunchbox, but Kieran stepped in and pushed her away. Ever since then, he’d been protective of me—almost a little too much at times.
Now that he stood in front of me, practically glowing, I could understand why other girls in my high school thought he was hot. Could I date him? The problem was the danger of ending our friendship if something went wrong, so I put those thoughts on hold. Besides, I didn’t even know if he wanted to date me.
But even his frown was handsome.
“Come on,” he said.
I grinned and took a sip of my chai as he strutted away. I caught up to him, tasting the warm, caramel liquid sliding down m
y throat. We approached a four-way intersection just as the sun hid behind dark clouds, casting creepy shadows. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end again and my stomach did a little flip flop. Two burly figures in black clothing rounded opposite corners ahead of us.
Kieran stopped dead in his tracks.
“Maybe we should turn around.” I grabbed his hand.
“That’s her!” shouted the stranger on the right. He pulled something from his jacket pocket just as the other drew something from behind his back.
As I wondered who they were talking about, Kieran yanked my arm, pulling me in another direction. My chai flew out of my grip and splashed onto the sidewalk.
“Run!” Kieran shouted.
“Hey! What are you—”
His hands thrust outward and he mumbled something I couldn’t make out. He started to run faster. When I didn’t move, he glanced back over his shoulder at me. “Come on, Zoe! Hurry!”
I was still mad about my chai, but I sprinted after him. “Why did you do that? You made me spill—” The look on his face was intense—there was no time worrying about the chai. I stared through the gloom at the approaching figures. “You know those guys? I think I saw that guy with the yellow hair at the coffee shop!”
“Yeah. And, they’re following us.”
“Why are they chasing you?” When I glanced back again, my long, brown hair whipped into my eyes, and my step faltered.
Kieran grabbed my elbow, saving me from tripping while he scanned the area. “We don’t have time to talk about it. Right now we have to go!”
He hauled me forward, along the same route we followed every day, and led me into an old, abandoned warehouse. Shouldn’t we return to the safety of the shops? The echo of Kieran’s fast-paced footsteps bounced off the walls.
I stopped in the middle of an aisle sandwiched between rows of empty metal shelving that reached almost to the ceiling, and stared in disbelief at my surroundings. Grime caked the exterior windows. I could barely see the sun shining through. A musty, stale smell permeated the air, and I wrinkled my nose. How could I not have noticed this place before?
Kieran came back and stood beside me, slightly out of breath. He pointed at the ground behind a stack of crates, then tugged me to it. “Stay here,” he ordered. “Do not come out no matter what happens or what you hear.”
“Where are we?” I demanded. “Why did you bring me—”
“Don’t move,” he begged. “Please!”
“You’re not leaving me here alone! Are you crazy? Why can’t I go with you?”
“Zoe. Just do what I ask this one time! I can’t be worrying about where you are.”
“What’s going on?” I yelled at Kieran’s fleeing back.
My purple Converses were definitely not running shoes. I felt a huge blister forming, so I crouched, laid my backpack on the floor, then gently pulled the shoe off my foot, followed by my sock. I was right. The sock already had a light pink stain on the heel. I sighed. There wasn’t much in the way of a band-aid in my situation.
I had just replaced my sock when I heard a clank. It sounded like a door slamming, which I assumed meant Kieran found an exit.
“Dude, are you sure you saw them come in here?” a low, gruff voice ricocheted off the walls.
“Yeah,” replied another, this one softened by a southern accent. “I’m sure he brought her here to get away from the Ordinaries.”
The Ordinaries? Because I rarely did as I was told, I couldn’t just stay put. I needed to find Kieran and help him. He couldn’t fight off two people.
I jammed my foot back into my shoe and jogged through the aisle, careful not to slip on the layer of dust on the floor, and occasionally hopped over broken glass. The erratic beating of my heart pulsed in time with my strides. When a door creaked behind me, I froze mid-step.
“What about the guy she’s with?” The voice came from somewhere on my left.
“What about him? There’s only one,” the other male voice answered. “Let’s split up.”
“Okay. Whatever. I brought my own resource anyway.”
Resource?
As quietly as I could, I stepped away, needing to put some distance between them and me. The sound of my pursuers’ shoes scraping the concrete kept coming, and I sped up. I turned a corner, hoping to see my best friend, but he wasn’t there.
“Kieran?” I whispered. Adrenaline flooded my system, and I broke into a run. A loud, drawn out whistle pierced the air. I didn’t think it was a sound that Kieran would make.
A tall stack of wooden crates left an opening just large enough for me and I squeezed behind them, trying to keep silent. I crouched and released a slow breath, rubbing my sweaty palms against my sundress. My skin crawled.
Glass crunched just a couple feet away and my heart stopped in response. I peered through the slats and studied my stalker, trying to breathe silently. He looked about my age, but didn’t go to my school. A long, black trench coat covered dark jeans and a ripped black hoodie. A silver chain swung on his hip. Judging by his greasy hair, he hadn’t showered recently.
“I know you’re in here,” he said.
That’s when I detected the shiny barrel of a gun in his hand: his “resource.” I slapped my hand over my mouth, holding in a gasp, while my forehead broke into a cold sweat. Silent tears streamed down my cheeks.
“I won’t hurt you,” he cried, disappearing from view. “I promise.”
Banging and scuffling started to my left, then a metallic, scraping noise, like a chef sharpening knives on a cooking show. Something glass was knocked over and then I heard low grunts. I bit my lip, holding in a scream. Had they found Kieran? Could he fight them off?
Please let him be safe!
Then silence filled the long, empty aisles. I waited a few minutes, until I thought it might be safe, then I let out my breath. Kieran wasn’t going to be able to help me, or he would have done it already. That meant, I’d have to grow a backbone. I wasn’t a helpless, little girl who relied on others to do everything for her. I could do something. I would get myself out of here, find Kieran or find help—somewhere.
I peered through the shelves, but didn’t see anyone. No movement at all. I edged out from behind the crates, then froze. A cold, solid click cut through the silence, and I recognized it as a gun being cocked behind my head.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you stare death in the face. It’s a total cliché, but I assure you, mine did, even though I have only lived seventeen years. Sadly, I hadn’t lived long enough to do anything. No dates with a boy—I’d never even kissed one. I’d never been to college, never been to a formal . . . in fact, I’d never even left the state of Minnesota. I longed to travel the world, to see places I’d only read about. I couldn’t die yet. My life was just starting!
My family’s faces flashed in my mind. I saw my mom, tall and slender, baking molasses cookies. Dad mowing the grass and those pale, brown eyes I’d inherited covered by oversized sunglasses. I saw my little sister in the mirror while I braided her blond hair.
“No one is coming to save you,” the yellow-tipped-haired guy said. His voice was eerily calm. “I’m sure your friend is dead. Now move!” He jabbed the barrel of the gun between my shoulder blades, but my legs wouldn’t move. I stared straight ahead, afraid the slightest movement would prompt him to pull the trigger. I needed to stall so I could formulate a plan. Any plan.
I turned my head toward the gunman. “Who . . . who are you? What do you—?”
He raised his free hand and slapped me across my face, leaving a painful sting and a throbbing eye. Falling sideways into the crates, I sliced my left forearm and landed on the floor. The coppery smell of blood permeated the air. He sneered at me and poked his foot into my ribs—hard. I curled into a tight ball, protecting my head.
“I can’t believe you’re the Redeemer everyone’s worried about.” He grabbed my upper arm and yanked me onto my feet.
It had to be a case of mistaken id
entity, I realized. How could this guy possibly know me? Footsteps approached and Yellow Hair’s nose-ringed partner strolled up the aisle and into sight, wiping a sword on his sleeve. Through my good eye, I could see a generous bloodstain all over his clothes, and my heart plummeted. Since we were the only ones here, the blood could only mean Kieran was either badly hurt or dead. I dropped my chin to my chest, trying not to scream, but my whole body shook.
“Why must you play with your kills?” Nose Ring asked Yellow Hair. “Just shoot her! I disposed of the guy she came with.” He sauntered toward us. “He won’t be a problem anymore.”
“No!” I cried, and my legs gave out. I dropped to the floor, meaning to brace myself with my good arm, but screamed as pain shot up my wrist when it slammed onto the pile of broken crates.
In the shadows to my left, a dark-clothed figure emerged out of my captor’s sight, his index finger pressed to his lips. The tall, mysterious man winked at me, then slid back into the darkness.
“I know all about you,” Yellow Hair said, walking backward to stand in front of me and pointing the gun at my chest. A lock of greasy hair slid down, covering half his face. “And I know what you are.”
I fought to breathe through the suffocating realization that I’d just lost my best friend, and I was about to die as well. Pain brought my world back into focus. I clutched my arm with the cuts and sat back on my feet, suddenly furious. Why was this happening? What had I ever done to these guys?
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. Hope jumped to life. I squinted into the darkness, but there was nothing.
“Ha, ha, ha!” Yellow Hair laughed.
“No!” I said again, shaking my head as tremors wracked my body. Tears spilled down my cheeks, stinging my swollen eye, splatting water drops on the dirty cement floor. “You couldn’t have k-k—”
“Shut up,” Yellow Hair ordered. He poked the barrel against my shoulder and looked at his partner.
“Kieran can’t be . . . dead.”
“Do it already,” Nose Ring said. “Shoot her!”
The Guardian, a Sword, & Stilettos (The Enlighten Series Book 1) Page 1
