Witch Avenue Series (The Complete Set)

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Witch Avenue Series (The Complete Set) Page 90

by Bolton, Karice


  “Okay, I’m going to head back to the attic,” he said, grabbing a drill and another board

  “I’m glad we decided to turn the attic into a less creepy place,” I said. “Or at least I hope it’s less creepy.”

  “It will be, babe. I promise. It’s gonna be the best media room ever.”

  “You’re on a roll,” I teased. “Next thing you’ll tell me is that Dace and Bakula are moving into the guest room.”

  “No. I think having them in the same mountain range is close enough.”

  Although I’d never tell them, I did enjoy knowing they weren’t all that far away from us.

  “Back to work,” Logan called.

  He was turning the attic into a workshop for me. I realized I loved making soaps and tinctures, and he was building me a space to do it so I didn’t take up our entire kitchen with every batch. Living in the Cascades allowed access to never-ending supply of flora to use in my batches of tea and bubble bath and I wanted to take full advantage. Plus, my mom could concentrate on floral design back at the shop, and I could just send her shipments of bath products to sell. I was really starting to enjoy this new, calm life.

  I stopped painting and watched Logan walk toward the attic stairs. His work belt hung low, and the muscles along his shoulders tensed as he balanced the beam on them. Would he ever stop looking so delicious?

  I threw my brush in the metal tray, and rubbed my hands on my already painted jeans as I watched him go down the hall.

  Sneaking up behind him as he walked up the ladder, I whispered, “Remember when we had our first kiss here?”

  He shoved the wood up into the attic and climbed back down the steps. “It’s something that I’ll never forget,” he whispered, bringing me close to him.

  I stepped onto the step below him and stretched to wrap my arms around his neck. His touch was electrifying as he traced his fingers along my exposed arm.

  My body swayed into his as he leaned down, pressing his lips softly against mine. Feeling the warmth pool inside of me as a world of bliss was created between us was glorious. My body ignited with anticipation as his lips slowly released from mine, trailing back toward my neck. Shivers ran through me as I took a deep breath in.

  Logan’s lips broke free from my flesh, as he cupped my chin with his hand. “We can always finish this house stuff tomorrow,” he murmured, his eyes full of desire.

  I ran my fingers through his hair, bringing him closer to me as I let my lips explore down his neck. We would definitely have to finish everything tomorrow.

  ***

  ***

  The Cessna 180 engine rumbled through the small six-seat aircraft cabin, but unfortunately it did little to block out the words of the other passengers. I glared at the back of the Captain who was lucky enough to be wearing a headset.

  “I’d love to see what’s under her jacket.” I heard the guy behind me say to no one in particular.

  “I’ll second that, and I bet we’ll get the chance,” another one said.

  The gnawing in my stomach only grew with every passing minute, but there was nothing I could do. I was stuck in a plane where I could literally touch the pilot. I didn’t need to start something that I couldn’t finish and have the plane crash because I couldn’t handle a little heckling.

  I looked out the small, oval window pressing my head against the cold glass covered in water droplets. I couldn’t really see anything out the window because the weather was so bad. It was like we were trapped in one continuous rain cloud that was sent from the Gods to mess with me.

  Getting tired of seeing nothing but ominous grey, I looked down at the pamphlet hoping the description would magically change, but I wasn’t that lucky. My fingers trembled as I silently read the overview once more.

  The ReBoot program is a juvenile camp for mid-range offenders who have yet to become established criminals. Youth in their mid to late teen years are often responsive to this type of program which includes occupational training and behavior rehabilitation. We’ve found that the potential criminals at our work camp for forestry and conservation in Southeast Alaska never become repeat offenders. We generally only accept less dangerous delinquents but all cases are subject for review.

  I loved the ‘yet to become established criminals’ part, as if the first time around didn’t really count for these misfits. I so didn’t belong here. It wasn’t like I needed to be reminded that my newfound campmates weren’t savory characters. All I had to do was turn around in my tiny airplane seat to see their predator eyes taking me in.

  I couldn’t believe my mom let this happen to me. There’s no way she could have been fooled into thinking this was a conservation-slash-forestry camp… although I was fooled. I actually thought my stepdad was trying to do something nice for me, for once.

  God! I hated my stepfather, and he obviously hated me. This was his last sendoff before I went to college, and it was a doozey. As if living with him since my father’s death wasn’t horrible enough, he just wanted one more way to stick it to me.

  The tin can I was riding in suddenly took a plunge, and all of the instruments went berserk. Gasps and whines filled the air as the high-pitched warning beeps sounded through our tiny capsule. My hands immediately became clammy as my heart raced. There was no calming down in a situation like this, especially when a person was born as jumpy as I was. My fingers gripped the armrest so hard that my nails hurt, and I took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly.

  “It’s okay, everyone. Just a little turbulence,” the pilot told us as the beeps silenced, but the heavy breathing from everyone continued long after his announcement.

  I was tempted to turn around in my seat and gloat at all of the guys who were big and tough only a few minutes ago and suddenly turned to pansies, but the Cessna took another huge dip, sounding the bells and whistles again. Man! I hated small planes. Actually, I don’t even think this would qualify as a small plane, more like a car that could fly.

  As the beads of water continued rolling down the tiny window, I noticed we had begun our descent. Finally!

  “We’ll be landing in approximately fifteen minutes,” the pilot said as he continued adjusting controls.

  Things were looking up. The dampness on my palms began to evaporate, and I looked back out the window as our plane flew barely above the treetops. The conifers looked like a brightly massed green quilt underneath us. Turning my head in any direction gave way to a completely different landscape. Alongside the deep green woodlands, there were rocky peaks, and monstrous cliffs that trees avoided calling home. If I wasn’t so scared to death, I might be able to appreciate the beauty of everything.

  I maneuvered my head so that I could see out the pilot’s window. Directly in front of us there was a grassy field with small ponds surrounding it, or at least I think they were small ponds. I craned my neck as far as possible searching for the airport. Not only did I not see any buildings, I didn’t see any sort of landing strip.

  But I did catch a huge bear. I’m sure it was a bear. There was nothing else that big that walked on all fours.

  “Whoa, check it out,” one of the guys behind me said.

  “That thing’s huge,” the guy next to him said. “I could totally take it down.”

  I couldn’t handle it any longer.

  “Why don’t you? I’d love to see it,” I taunted without looking behind me. There was no way I’d undo my seatbelt in transportation like this even if it meant I couldn’t give him my best scowl.

  “She does speak,” he replied sarcastically.

  Gritting my teeth, I watched as we passed by the brown bear with the plane descending at what felt like record speed.

  “Please make sure your seatbelts are fastened. I’ll make the landing as pleasant as possible,” the pilot told us.

  What? Landing? There’s no runway!

  This can’t be possible. I’ve got a bear as an official greeter and our plane was landing on gravel or dirt or something. The only saving grace of this obse
rvation was that it kept the other passengers on the plane as silent as me.

  I continued to watch the pilot pulling and pushing on things, and realized I really didn’t want to see how little control he had over the situation. I’m sure he felt he had it handled, but from this viewpoint it was utterly terrifying. I clamped my eyes shut just in time to feel the plane shudder as the wheels began to touch down.

  There was nothing smooth about it as our plane briefly greeted the gravel before pushing back up, only to quickly meet again with the surface below. It felt like a rollercoaster that had no tracks and no intention of stopping. Our plane continued to jump and skip its way down the non-existent runway. I slowly peeled open one eye and watched as we whipped by the tall grass and water finally coming to a slow stop.

  The guys’ celebratory hollers were deafening. They began throwing off their seatbelts, but I refused to budge. The pilot turned around and I wanted to hug him, but I restrained myself. Instead I looked out the window at the wilderness wondering if I’d survive.

  “I’ll be around to open the door, and the CLs should be here to greet you any minute. It’s best if you don’t wander off,” the pilot instructed.

  “CLs?” I asked, turning my attention back to him.

  “Camp Leaders,” he responded, his eyes connecting with mine. He opened his door and got out of the plane.

  “Newbie. We’ve got a newbie on our hands,” the guy sitting directly behind me shouted, kicking my seat. What was he, twelve?

  “I wonder if that makes her a newbie in all areas? I can’t wait to find out,” he continued.

  That was it! My seatbelt came flying off, and I leaned over the back of my seat, grabbing the guy’s shirt, surprising him and myself. I was gripping the fabric so tightly I raised him slightly off his seat. He looked to be a year or so younger than me with blond hair that was greased back. His clothing was ten times too big for him, but he was still bigger than me.

  “If you even look in my direction while we’re at this camp—” I began, but the pilot opened the side door interrupting me. I pushed him back on the seat and turned back around in mine.

  “Jeez, chill out,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “Still gonna get some, Luke?” I heard someone whisper.

  Everyone on this plane was so sleazy, except for the poor pilot. I didn’t even want to imagine what everyone else at the camp would be like.

  I was the last to jump out of the plane, as I looked around the land void of civilization. I couldn’t believe my mom fell for allowing my stepdad to send me here.

  “Emma Walton?” A girl asked.

  I turned around and relief spread through me instantly. The girl looked to be a couple years older than me, so probably twentyish. And she looked normal. Her dark brown hair was bundled into a loose ponytail, and she was dressed in green cargo pants, a black T-shirt and rubber boots. Her smile was friendly, and I knew I’d be sticking around her as much as possible.

  “I’m Steph,” she said, smiling as she stuck her hand out for a handshake, “one of the CLs here.”

  Wow! That’s formal. I shook her hand quickly.

  “Nice to meet you.” I grabbed my duffle bag and backpack

  “Got everything?” she asked.

  I nodded, and she waved at the pilot who was already preparing the plane for takeoff. “See ya in a week,” she yelled at him.

  A week! I’ll be eighteen in a week, and then I can get out of here.

  “We’re in bear country out here,” she began as our group followed her and the other CLs through the tall grass.

  “I saw one on the way in.” I adjusted the large strap on my shoulder, hoping we wouldn’t be hiking all that far.

  “It’s all part of being in the backcountry,” she replied. “We’ll go over everything when we get to camp, but it’s nothing to mess with. A ranger went missing a week ago on Baranof Island, and they just found his remains.”

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  “And Baranof Island doesn’t have nearly as many brown bears as we have,” another CL replied from behind.

  Not what I wanted to hear!

  ***

  ***

  The screams shattered my sleep. My heart was pounding seventy miles an hour. I felt for my fleece blanket to throw off, since I seemed to be stuck to my sheets with gallons of sweat. I looked around my blackened room, with only the red glow of the alarm clock displaying 2:00 am to comfort me. My heart sank as I lost the battle for another night’s sleep. I heard the gentle snore of my bulldog, Matilda, rattling through the air. She was used to my screams by now. I promised myself with a little whisper that I was safe. It was only a nightmare — another nightmare. That was all it was. It couldn’t possibly be real, that kind of terror. The dreams were coming closer together now, and worse yet they seemed to lead to nowhere but sleep deprivation.

  I commanded myself to take deep, steady breaths to stay calm. Still shaky from the last images that had blasted into my brain, I tried to rid myself of the awful scene replaying over and over in my mind — my death. The mere thought of the attacks made me want to hide from the world in my closet. The black, swirling creatures were coming at me and through me from every direction. Their mouths open, displaying several sets of teeth with blood dripping from their lips, waiting for me to make a mistake. This was not a world I recognized. How could my mind even create such deadly monsters? The elements of realism spooked me beyond belief. I grabbed a tissue from my nightstand and wiped the dampness from my forehead, unsure of how much longer I could keep this up. Every night and every dream seemed different. They all had similar storylines, to a degree. Sometimes the unfamiliar characters reappeared to haunt me over and over again. It just depended on the night. Part of me felt as if I should know these people or at least the events that kept taking place. Why else would they keep reappearing? However, the events were so fantastical, the thought that I should recognize them made me feel even crazier for thinking it.

  Fully awake now and completely disappointed in the prospect of another long and drawn out day without sleep, I trudged to the window and opened my heavy, red velvet curtains to expose the serenity of a dark outside world. The snow was slowly floating down leaving a beautiful pattern on the sidewalk, illuminated only by the streetlight. The sight brought a shiver to my bones. Even though a minute ago I’d had to wipe the wet heat of fear from my body. I couldn’t keep chasing and being chased like this. I couldn’t go on thinking my life was in danger every time I closed my eyes. I needed rest. I needed sleep. Lack of sleep was making things worse. I was sure of it.

  “What is all of this telling me? I don’t even know the people in my dreams!” I whined to Matilda.

  She responded with her usual snorts and snores, sprawling out even more on my mattress now that I had left a larger area for her enjoyment. I flipped on my nightstand light, which cast its familiar glow, as I attempted to move back into bed without displacing Matilda. A sigh escaped as I grabbed my latest book, which was ready and waiting for another night like all the others.

  I opened the book to the third chapter as my mind attempted to identify the people in my dream. Seeing crumpled remnants of humans discarded all over was never something that I could get used to regardless of whether it was a nightmare or not. I was getting used to seeing the swirls appear to attack me, but I was also intrigued by the thought of trying to figure out the identity of the random strangers who appeared time and time again. Sometimes they were the same people. Other times, a completely new set would make an entrance. I always avoided looking into their eyes because, during one of my very first nightmares, all I saw was the dull glow of death staring right back at me. I couldn’t stomach it twice, and somehow my subconscious self knew to never look them in the eyes, whoever they were.

  Thankfully, the latest batch of characters had seemed kind — as if I knew them from somewhere although that wasn’t possible. I’m sure they must have made an appearance in other dreams. I just don’t remember th
em. One stood out in particular. He was trying to save me, but it was too late. The black, soulless swirls got me. My nightmares had never gotten to that point before. Never did I know the conclusion to these nightmarish adventures before tonight.

  This time, I saw how it ended. I didn’t make it. It wasn’t a painful process. I didn’t feel tortured. It seemed like I should have felt the attack. I didn’t. What I was left with were horrible feelings of despair and loneliness wrapping their way through every aspect of my life. My soul felt like an empty cavern as I saw myself being blown away into the wind. I remembered looking back at the strangers on the ground. They were looking up towards the sky at me as I left to wherever bodiless souls go. The one guy who was so memorable was staring back at me, tears streaming down his face. He was the one who tried to save me. He’d risked his own life against the monsters for me. He was only a minute too late. My heart now longed for him, this figment of my imagination. I didn’t know why.

  I couldn’t shake the images this time. They were too haunting, too real. And now I was going crazy believing that these things had some sort of significance. Lack of sleep was finally catching up with my fragile state of mind.

  BOOKS BY KARICE BOLTON

  THE WITCH AVENUE SERIES

  LONELY SOULS

  ALTERED SOULS

  RELEASED SOULS

  SHATTERED SOULS

  THE WATCHERS TRILOGY

  AWAKENING

  LEGIONS

  CATACLYSM

  TAKEN NOVELLA (Watchers Prequel)

  THE CAMP

  COMING SUMMER 2013

 

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