Black Aura

by Jaycee Clark

  Help us! Help us!

  You must stop him.

  He must be stopped!

  He wants you—

  He needs you.

  He’ll have you if you’re not careful.

  Run! Run! Run!

  The voices screamed inside her head, none of them her own, all of them loud and terrifying.

  She halted to get her bearings. Home, she was almost at home, but she couldn’t go home.

  Dad was there. With a woman.

  She’d go anyway. Home. Safety.

  She took a step across the street and then stopped. No. No.

  Raw nerves trembled through her, her limbs weak and shaking.

  What would Dad say? Her mother… No. Dad wasn’t like that, he’d listen.

  Sorry to rain on your date, but I had a vision.

  A vision? Something else?

  Pressure built within her.

  She could feel it—them—whatever, pushing against her shields. Shields she’d constructed over the years to stop the voices, to stop the visions, to stop the knowing.

  It wasn’t real.

  “It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.”

  A hand on her shoulder ripped a scream from her throat even as a voice asked, “Alyssa?”

  She whirled, and stared into bright blue eyes.

  The trembling wouldn’t stop.

  “Hey. Hey, Alyssa. What the hell?”

  “Mark. Mark.” She stood there, just staring at him, her thoughts ragged and scattered, unfocused.

  He looked from her to behind her, up and down the street. His tall frame towered over her and she didn’t know if she should run home and to hell with her father’s woman-date-whatever, or if she should…

  “Come inside. Okay?” Mark took her arm and guided her into the coffee shop he ran at night for his parents.

  Without a word, she let him lead her to the bar that guarded the side of the coffee shop. Patrons sat at tables, and a few glanced at them as he walked her to the last stool.

  “Here, sit down, now.”

  “Hey, buddy, we’d like to pay here,” said a man standing at the head of the bar, by the register.

  “Just a minute.”

  The man huffed and muttered something about service to the woman with him.

  Warmth from the coffee shop hugged its arms around her, pulled her back, slowly at first, then seemed to jerk her back to where she was. To the here and now. Not to that other space somewhere between worlds that only she seemed to be aware of.

  Maybe she really was freaking nuts.

  Noise clattered against her eardrums. The soft indie rock that played from the speakers beat slowly on the air, mixing with the clunk of mugs on the glass tables, laughing with voices and murmurs of the customers. Heady coffee fragrances melded together and jolted her as surely as if she’d had a shot of espresso.

  Alyssa took a deep breath and steadied herself.

  “Better?” Mark asked.

  She could only nod her head.

  For a moment, his blue eyes studied her before he frowned, then walked behind and down the bar to the impatient customer still muttering to the woman with him.

  When they paid, the old fashioned register trilling out a bell as the drawer opened, she took another breath.

  Mark turned and filled a white mug, then plopped it in front of her with a narrowed look that might as well have commanded, “Drink it.”

  Alyssa tried to smile and knew she failed, but cupped the mug in her palms in an attempt to warm herself.

  She focused on the things around her, but wasn’t able to let it all in.

  Instead she focused on Mark. Watched him move from the coffee dispensers to the glass-domed cake displays to the cookie jars.

  His hands were long-fingered, the wrists sinewy. She knew from this past summer that his arms were muscled, as were his legs. He sometimes rode bikes with her dad in the mornings. Other mornings he jogged and she knew he liked to snowboard.

  He was her friend and she was sort of seeing his brother, Thad.

  Sort of. Or not. She still wasn’t certain and to be honest, wasn’t really concerned about it. She and Thad didn’t really have a “relationship”, but she had a feeling that if she started to flirt with Mark, he’d have an issue with it.

  Mark was the quietest of the three boys, she’d learned. He often reminded her of her father with his solemn glances, studying intently as if trying to figure out the workings of things, the very essence of whatever he perused.

  As far as she knew, he still hadn’t decided what he wanted to be, what he wanted to do. He was twenty-two, already had a bachelor’s in criminal justice but was taking computer graphics and business courses just now. His older brother, Thad, was working on a master’s in education while subbing at local schools in his off time.

  Alyssa wondered what the differences were between them all. She had very little to do with the youngest brother, Kevin, who was her own age, but he was…he was…

  Scattered.

  Like Mark, Kevin wasn’t certain what he wanted to do and had only taken a course or two at the local community college, but unlike Mark, he had no direction. Kevin seemed perfectly happy to run the ski lifts at the resort a few miles up the road and work with the forest service through the summer. She’d often figured he was taking the courses to appease his family.

  Would Timmy have been like Mark? Or Kevin? Probably Kevin. Her brother had hidden parts of himself from their mother. He had been wiser than her and, God, she missed him.

  Taking a deep breath, she shook off the morose thoughts.

  “Thad should be here soon,” Mark said as he wiped the counter in front of her.

  She frowned before she could stop herself. “Mark, a couple of kisses does not a relationship make.”

  He only looked at her.

  “Please, I know your brother and we’re not really seeing each other. I mean, we went out a few times. He’s cool. I like him, but can you really see either of us together, seriously?”

  For a moment he said nothing, then he shrugged. “I don’t know, if you wanted to, both of you, you would be.”

  An education major. She would bet he’d never get her. She stared at the coffee in the mug and swirled it with a swizzle stick. No one would ever get her. And Thad was too analytical, too into this world and proper this and proper way of that to think out of the box.

  They were not right for each other, but he was fun and a nice guy. For her, dates had always seemed more like hanging with a friend, and seemed to be missing…something.

  “I like your brother, he’ll always be a great friend and trust me, he feels the same for me.”

  A hand at the base of her neck squeezed lightly. “I do?”

  She jumped and pulled into herself, leaned to the side so that his hand fell from her neck. She hadn’t even felt him come upon her.

  God, what was wrong with her?

  Her hands shook as she brought the mug to her lips.

  “You okay?” Thad asked, sitting down on the stool beside her.

  She didn’t miss the look he shared with his brother. The what’s-going-on look.

  “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” she muttered, anger rising within her. What the hell was she supposed to tell them? No, I’m not okay, I see things, you know, daggers, red fog, evil. You? How’s your evening going? Oh and by the way, your aura is a bit off. Shaking her head, she threw the thoughts away and glared at Thad.

  “What are you doing here?”

  One blond brow rose. “My parents own the joint.”

  Idiot.

  She glanced at Mark, but he held her stare with a narrow gaze and then went to fill an order.

  Alyssa set her mug down. “I’m fine. I just want—” No, want was the wrong word. “I need to be alone.” To figure things out. How the hell was she supposed to deal with all this when she’d fought it all her life?

  “Well, you don’t look fine, you’re pale as the cream and your eyes
are sunken dark orbs.”

  A smile surprised her. “And on the moonlit waters dreamed…” she muttered.

  “What?”

  Thad, like Mark, was handsome with the golden Adonis good looks, the straight features, almost aristocratic, but a bit too edged to be that smooth. A couple days’ worth of stubble dusted his jaw line. The family’s bright blue eyes had not skipped him and now they looked confused.

  “Dark orbs, pale as cream?” She wagged a finger at him. “You’re teaching poetry again aren’t you?”

  “I—well—that’s not the point.” He turned so that he faced her fully. “You are very complicated, Alyssa Gray.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know, Thaddeus Howard.”

  For one long minute he studied her. “I don’t know that there isn’t much you don’t know. You’ve got great eyes, but you know that too.”

  She grinned, “Knowing it and hearing it again are two different things. Women love compliments, don’t you know?” She snapped her fingers. “You forgot, didn’t you. Please don’t give the next girl the sunken-eyed-dark-orbs. It’s bad. No wonder you’re not married yet.”

  He huffed and sat back. “I beg your pardon. I’ve no intention of getting married, thank you very much. If and when I do, I assure you, I’ll know what I’m doing.”

  Mark walked up and laughed. “Uh-huh. Remember to compliment the woman’s eyes so she’ll be so distracted she’ll accept. Otherwise Mom might never get her wedding.”

  Thad reached across the bar and playfully shoved his brother back a few steps. “I’m working here.”

  “Is that what you were doing? And here I thought you were talking.” Mark looked at Alyssa. “You’re work now. Isn’t that nice? Work has such lovely eyes.”

  She laughed.

  * * *

  Her laugh warmed him. Alyssa’s smiling face, her eyes currently free of phantoms, unfurled the fist that had squeezed his heart when he’d seen her standing out on the sidewalk, ashen-faced and wide-eyed.

  Alyssa. She called to him, had since the first time he’d seen her over a year ago limping carefully into her father’s gallery. She’d been a silent ghost who had hidden in the gallery for months before venturing out.

  Slowly, like a chrysalis, she was morphing into a strong woman. He could feel that around her, this…charisma.

  He grinned back at her and rolled his eyes at Thad. Thad, what a stupid idiot. The guy could have had her, but maybe she hadn’t wanted him. God knew Thad had plenty of girls at the college, and he’d have more when he transferred to the University of New Mexico at Santa Fe or New Mexico State in Las Cruses. Mark had the feeling that Miss Gray wasn’t the long distance type. But as she just pointed out, she wasn’t really Thad’s type either.

  He tilted his head and watched as she punched Thad in the arm.

  She was a butterfly. The shy girl still lurked, still darted back into hiding from time to time, but mostly, here she sat. Brash, up front and strangely vulnerable.

  And she rarely looked at him twice.

  Hell, tonight he’d called her to tell her about her dad and Lake in hopes of just talking to her. Surprised the hell out of him when she’d said she would use him as an excuse to get out of the house. They’d talk about college.

  College.

  “You could always come with me, Alyssa,” Thad said, jerking Mark out of his musings.

  “What? With you? To college, where?”

  “Wherever,” Thad answered, giving her the famous Howard smile, sure to get a woman to go along with whatever they wanted.

  Mark sure as hell didn’t want her going along with Thad and his plans.

  Alyssa only laughed. “Uh-huh. I’d probably kill you in a few weeks.” She waved her hand towards the outside. “Besides, I like it here.”

  “In Taos?” Thad’s bafflement was clear. His well-known hatred of the mountain town was a mystery to them all.

  “Big bro here wants big city,” Mark said, wiping glasses and mugs dry before he set them on the bar. “Big city, big lights.”

  “Big crime,” she finished and shuddered, then took a drink of her coffee. “Thanks, but no thanks. Big cities are not for me. Been there, done that. I don’t want any more of it. Taos maybe…maybe…” Her eyes stared past Mark to focus on the wall behind him.

  In the gray-blue depths he saw again dark shadows before she blinked.

  “Maybe what? A high-dollar cowboy town? Please, it’s a tourist trap,” Thad muttered and stood, walking behind the bar.

  Mark could see the signs of aggravation in his brother’s tense lips and narrowed eyes. He knew the normal tirade was coming. Nothing here, nowhere to go, unless you wanted to be in real estate or be a shop owner or…

  Alyssa tilted her head. The dim lights glinted softly in her short dark hair, which didn’t seem so spiky now, but lay in soft curls, probably because she kept running a hand through it—like she did now.

  He loved her hands. The way the long fingers drummed, the way he could see the tendons and bones, the movement of knuckles. He had a thing for hands—not sure what—but he noticed hands and eyes on people and in art. Both were exceptional in Alyssa’s case.

  She waved a hand in his direction. “He’ll never get it, will he?”

  Mark grinned and shook his head.

  Thad opened his mouth and she held her hand palm out. “Nope. I don’t want to hear all the great city accolades. I don’t care about living in the big city, and be serious, Thad, you’re so not a one-woman man.”

  “And you’re a one-man woman?”

  She thought about it. Her pursed lips—damned fine lips, too—curved into a smile. The bottom was plumper than the top so that she almost always appeared to be pouting. “I could be.”

  “If the right guy came along?” Thad served himself a cup of coffee. The bar had dwindled down to the nighttime regulars scattered at three different tables.

  Mark didn’t miss her glance at him. “Something like that.” Then she shrugged, one shouldered, and grinned. “But I seriously doubt there’s a man alive who would put up with me and all my…eccentricities.”

  “You might be surprised,” both he and his brother said at the same moment.

  4

  Lake stared at the art around the studio. “So this is where the madness begins?” She turned to him. The night-shadowed windows framed her. “Or rather where it is created, I suppose.”

  “What?” Max set the food containers on the scarred, paint-splattered table top.

  His overhead lights caught the different shades of blonde and red in her hair as she tilted her head. “Well, who knows where the madness began.”

  He frowned. “What madness?”

  Madness? Was she talking about Alyssa? An old defense licked his ire.

  Her hands fluttered and waved at the half-finished canvases he would probably never display because most of them still lacked something. “The creative madness. Art in all its various forms.” She shrugged and trailed a long nail down the frameless canvas of a moonlit landscape.

  He sighed and closed his eyes. Damn his ex-wife. One should never speak ill of the dead, but the fact was she had done a number not only on him, but worse, also on his daughter. Madness. He could all but hear that woman’s voice yelling about the madness in his family and how she wouldn’t allow it to affect Alyssa, how she’d do anything in her power to keep Alyssa normal.

  Max shook off the thoughts and opened the containers. Spicy steam wafted in the air. He grabbed a couple of plastic utensils out of one of the drawers.

  From the corner of his eye, he noticed Lake strolling along, stopping at this or that painting or photograph, items by locals he had yet to display. This was the catch-all art storage room, where he usually ate when working instead of in his own kitchen.

  He had nothing to drink. Well, there was wine, but to be honest, he didn’t care for wine with spicy Mexican food. It was one of the only times he really wanted a beer, and if he was lucky, he’d still have a few
in the fridge.

  She, however, looked like she was a wine woman.

  And this was why he didn’t date, especially hot-as-hell Viking goddesses with long red hair and wicked dark green eyes.

  “Bad shape here, bud,” he muttered to himself.

  “Did you say something?” she asked him.

  “Oh.” Max scratched his goatee and smiled. “I was just wondering what I had for us to drink. Wine, if you want some.”

  “What are you having?” Her gaze was direct and unwavering, reminding him of his daughter for some unknown reason.

  “Uh—beer. I think there are a couple of Mexican beers in the fridge. Um, in the kitchen.”

  She smiled, her full lips tugging his attention to her mouth and away from what he’d like to drink, or at least from the beer.

  “That’s fine.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  Her brows rose.

  “Oh, right. Right. Beer. Be right back.” He closed the studio door, then leaned back against the hallway’s wall. “Idiot. Way to go, ace.” He thunked his head on the wall.

  At this rate he’d never get her in bed. Not that that was the only reason he was with her. She was interesting, very interesting, in fact. The image of her with his daughter flashed in his mind, the way she’d taken it all in stride. Didn’t even so much as blink. In fact, with her line of work, she wholeheartedly believed in auras and visions and “just knowing”, as his daughter would say. Then again, with her new age shop, or whatever she had, maybe it was all just part of business. He’d like to not think so. Auras…

  Get it together.

  Beer. She’d think he was a lost case if he didn’t actually get the beer in there before the food got cold.

  “Bad, bad shape,” he said yet again as he made his way to the door at the end of the hallway, which led to the apartment. He grabbed four beers and hurried back to the studio.

  “So,” she said as he popped the tops off two bottles and set them on the table. “You do your own stuff, but you exhibit very little of it downstairs, at least that I’ve seen. You show your own photographs, but most of the sculptures and paintings or jewelry are by someone else.” She waved a hand towards canvases stacked against the wall. “Yet here are more canvases than I care to count and you’ve painted them all.”