Inquest

by J. F. Jenkins

  Teague rubbed at his eyes and tilted his head to the side as Cory's voice could be heard.

  "This is bogus! We're nineteen! We don't need a babysitter!"

  His father laughed. "We're going away for a week. I'm not making him babysit you, just check in, frequently, because I don't trust you."

  "I know T can be a rebel, but honestly, we can keep him in line."

  "No, Cory, I don't trust you. I don't know what you did to your little brother to make him sick, but you better believe I'll figure it out."

  "Right, it's automatically my fault." Cory probably rolled his eyes as he said it.

  "Do you expect me to believe you just found him there in the middle of the woods unconscious? Really?"

  "Kid has a wild streak! Come on, Alain, back me up here!"

  His twin scoffed. "I'm staying out of it."

  A grin formed on Teague's face as he heard his uncle's voice. "Do this later. Okay? Everyone is okay, and that's all that matters. Now on a more serious note, Cory, you're hurting my feelings. I'm a lot cooler than a babysitter."

  Teague let out a soft, contented sigh and closed his eyes again. This is perfect. And with everything as it finally should be, he deserved a well-earned rest.

  About the Author

  J.F. Jenkins lives in Minneapolis Minnesota with her husband, son, and two cats. She graduated from Bethel University in 2006 with a degree in Media Communication with minors in both writing and film. When she is not busy writing, she spends her free time playing games, reading, and spending time with her family.

  Don’t miss the book that started it all!

  Chapter One

  If she had to do it again, she still would’ve let him bite her. She couldn’t help it. He drew her to him. Denver Collins had that effect on women. Cheyenne Loveless was no exception to this law of nature, and she hated herself for it. Something about the way he walked, how he confidently strutted through the hallways of the high school without glancing at anyone or anything as he went. Or maybe it was those piercing green eyes that could make blood run cold with fear and then melt it and send it boiling with desire. He didn’t care about anything, and yet she still retained a deep fascination for him. A bite was definitely not a typical display of affection, but Cheyenne didn’t have the best luck with guys, so she would take what she could get. Sixteen years old and still hadn’t had a boyfriend. The Steelville High School population no doubt thought she was a loser. If not, they had a funny way of showing it. More often than not, she was treated as if she had the plague.

  Denver treated her the same way up until the night he bit her.

  The day started just like any other. She survived her classes and was set to enjoy her extra-long weekend. Cheyenne shut her locker door with extra oomph, just as she always did. The lockers were always sticky, and she practically body slammed herself into hers to get it to close. As she left the small brick-and-concrete building, she saw Denver clearly for the first time.

  He leaned against the side of the school coolly, the wind blowing his nearly black hair in front of his beautiful green eyes. Those eyes were the first things Cheyenne noticed about him. When the light caught them at a certain angle, they glowed like pure emeralds. Golf courses would envy his eyes.

  Certainly the rest of him was handsome as well: his broad shoulders, his well-toned body, and flawless tan skin. The eyes had her hooked though. She continuously found herself stopping to stare at him and catch another glimpse, almost as if to make sure he was real. Gorgeous guys hardly ever graced her presence, and such a beautiful creature couldn't possibly exist. Yet there he was, in the flesh. She couldn't approach him. Being shy made that impossible. Just thinking about it was giving her a small panic attack. As soon as she was caught staring, her eyes averted to anywhere but him.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled before hurrying down the sidewalk. He wouldn’t have heard her anyway, since she was nearly forty feet away. At least he shouldn’t have.

  “I’m used to it,” he called after her. This made her walk even faster, her face now uncomfortable from all of the blood rushing to her cheeks.

  How did he hear her? She risked one last glance at him before she ran the two blocks down the road to her house.

  Cheyenne plowed through the front door as soon as she got it unlocked and then shut it quickly behind her. She leaned up against the door and let out a deep breath.

  Her mother peered into the foyer from the kitchen. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just had a run-in with a boy at school and made a fool out of myself as usual.”

  Her mother laughed. It always made her slightly wrinkled face crinkle, but in an adorable way. Cheyenne could only hope she herself would age so well. “I bet he thought it was endearing and sweet. You’ll see, he’ll be asking for your number any day now.”

  “You always say that,” Cheyenne said quietly, setting her book bag down onto the floor with a grunt. The bag was heavy. Her whole life seemed to fit inside.

  “You know I don’t like it when you block the doorway with your things, honey.”

  “I’ll move it when I get done in the bathroom.” Cheyenne rushed upstairs to the nearest restroom and shut herself inside before turning on the cold water. She splashed her face a few times to try to cool off her skin and ease the tightening in her chest. Her eyes closed and she focused on relaxing, taking in deep, slow breaths before exhaling through her mouth. The tight feeling climaxed before finally dissolving, and she felt as if she could breathe normally again.

  She jumped when there was a soft knocking on the door.

  “Are you okay? You’ve been in there for fifteen minutes, sweetie.”

  Had it really been fifteen minutes? She glanced at the clock and then at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was still glowing red, and her hair was all over the place. Tears pricked her eyes, but thankfully those were starting to fade away without any signs of ever having been there to begin with.

  “I’ll be right out. I’m just having some trouble with my contacts.” Lying to her mother was the last thing she wanted to do, but breaking her heart would have been worse. Cheyenne’s social-anxiety problem upset her mother a lot, and the look of disappointment on her face every time there was a panic attack was one of the hardest things to see. If there was one thing Cheyenne didn’t want to do, it was to be disappointing. All she had to do was dry her face and touch it up with makeup in a few spots, and nobody would know the difference.

  “All right,” she said, more to herself than anyone else, and opened the door. “Sorry. I’m okay now. What’s for dinner?”

  “I just made something light.” The two walked down the stairs. “I figured since you’re going to Rachel’s party tonight, you’d probably be eating there.”

  “Oh, right, that makes sense since we’re going to a nightclub and all.”

  Cheyenne had forgotten about the party, but Rachel had never been one of her close friends. The two were more like acquaintances, and the invite to the big birthday bash had been out of pure courtesy and obligation. Certainly the two got along fine, but to call them friends would have been a stretch. However, Cheyenne did say she would go despite it being held in the middle of the week. It didn’t make much of a difference. It was the week of the fall teachers’ conference, and there wouldn’t be any school until the following Monday.

  She wanted to try to make a new friend. She needed one, and this would be a great jumping-off point for her to do so. Cheyenne had promised her mother she’d try to make more of an effort to get out of the house and do different things. The goal was to get her experiencing new things in the world, starting in her own neighborhood.

  Her mother leaned against the doorway and gave her a soft smile. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  “I know.” Cheyenne ran a hand through her dark hair, taking a moment to straighten it out. “But I need to go. I promised I would.” She paused and glanced at her mother nervously. “Will you help
me find something to wear?”

  She’d never been to a nightclub before. This particular club wasn’t a typical one. Made especially for teens, it had a dry bar, which made Cheyenne feel a little more reassured. Dressing hip and trendy wasn’t her strong point, however. The style that girls wore to those kinds of places was all about what was in as well as revealing. Cute she could do, but not cool, and definitely not revealing. After spending four hours trying to find the perfect outfit to wear, she ended up with something that was still only cute. Hopefully it could also pass for almost fashionable as well. The main goal was to not appear to be an idiot.

  The girls had decided carpooling to the club would be the easiest mode of transportation. One car was easier to pay for and park in a ramp downtown. The city was quiet, a glass mountain range of skyscrapers in all colors, shapes, and sizes. The skyline was always impressive, especially at night when the buildings lit up with small lights like stars in the sky. Cheyenne took in all of these sights, the buildings, the people, and tried desperately to calm her nerves. It’ll be fine, she reminded herself over and over again. This will be fun.

  Twenty minutes later, she wouldn't have used the word fun to describe her evening. Rachel and the rest of her friends were off dancing on the floor. They tried to tempt her to join them, but Cheyenne was a disaster when it came to dancing. She tripped over her own feet, and when her arms or anything above her waistline moved, she looked as if she was having a seizure. Her hips couldn't do anything resembling sexy. To save herself from public humiliation, she kept close to the bar and sipped on Shirley Temples.

  The music was loud in an obnoxious sort of way, which left her with a throbbing headache. The lights were bright and blinding and moved in disorienting patterns across the otherwise bland-looking room. Definitely not the hippest club in the city, but everyone seemed to enjoy it anyway. Well, everyone but her.

  “This seat taken?” a male voice asked coolly behind her. It took her a minute or two and a tap on the shoulder for her to realize he was talking to her. She was about to mumble something to him when she noticed this guy was the same one with the green eyes she had seen standing outside of her school. Denver.

  Immediately, her face became an impressive shade of red, which she knew because she could feel the heat from her cheeks. Thankfully nobody could see it in the dark light.

  “No, it’s not taken,” she said at last. Instinctively, she moved away from him as he sat down. He took a moment to shift along with her, as if he actually wanted to get close to her. Was there something wrong with her? She couldn't help but wonder, because he was sitting awfully close and leaning in, staring at something on her body. It took her a moment to realize he was checking out her chest.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, shielding herself protectively with her arms.

  “Sorry, you smell good,” he murmured, practically purring in her ear as he pulled away. He still maintained his close proximity.

  “I smell...” She frowned and was about to sniff at her arm, but she stopped herself. “…good?”

  “You smell good. Kind of like lilies of the valley, actually. Let me guess—you use that for your scented body wash?”

  “I just use Dial.” Her entire body tensed more as he moved in again, his face dangerously close to her neck. “I don’t mean to be rude, and while I’m flattered you’re so fascinated with my body, you’re also making me uncomfortable. If you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll go home with you, you should stop now, because that’s not going to happen. Back off before I make you.”

  He moved away once more with a smug smirk. “I thought I smelled fire, too.” He extended his hand to her for a polite and friendly handshake. “My name is Denver. Yes, like the city in Colorado. Last name is Collins, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I don’t usually meet someone with that kind of scent. It’s strong. I knew there was a reason I noticed you.”

  Is this guy high or something? “Apology accepted. I'm Cheyenne. I've seen you around school these past few weeks, but I don't think we've ever been formally introduced until now. You're new, right?” Cheyenne shook his hand nervously. He had a strong and confident shake. He seemed to be a genuinely nice person, outside of his odd behaviors. If anything, it made her look good in front of her classmates to be talking to the new cool kid, and a young, attractive male. She felt a little less like a freak.

  “I'm temporary. I haven't been formally introduced to anyone. You're the first, and it's only because you smell so nice I can't stay away.”

  “Do you use that line on everyone? It’s unique. A little creepy, but unique.”

  “No.” He sat back and proceeded to grab a napkin off the bar and fold it in front of him multiple times. He didn't have much of an attention span, apparently. “I actually don’t pick up women often. I just made an exception for the blue-eyed beauty in front of me.”

  Cheyenne’s face flushed again. “I wasn’t aware you knew the color of my eyes, seeing as how you’ve been staring at my breasts the entire time.” It came out a lot harsher than she intended. In fact, she wasn’t meaning to say it at all. “Sorry, I—”

  “You’re right. I was, but I remember you from earlier. I noticed your eyes when you were looking across the school yard at me.”

  “You do remember that.” She shrank in her chair a little, officially wanting to hide under a rock.

  “It’s a little hard not to when you’re so cute.” He moved closer to her, not quite as close as before, but enough to cause butterflies in her stomach. “You don’t like it here. I don’t like it here. And since we both don’t like it here, maybe we should head out and find something else to do. Maybe we can go someplace we both like.”

  An involuntary shiver ran through her entire body, and she nodded slowly. She could never say no to those green eyes. “All right, but don’t get any ideas. Just because I’m leaving with you doesn’t mean that—”

  “Relax, we’ll just go for a stroll outside. We don’t even have to leave the front of the building. Everyone can see us for all I care, but I don’t want to be in here anymore.” He laughed and grabbed her hand, then discreetly led her out of the club before any of her friends could see she was gone. Cheyenne doubted they were paying enough attention to notice anyway. He held her hand much more gently than before. The contrast surprised her.

  “Fine.” She stopped abruptly as soon as they were outside the club. They had some privacy, but they were close enough to the bouncers at the entrance. She felt comfortable enough to scream and have someone come running to help her if needed. He didn’t seem like a threat, but then she reminded herself of all the people on the news who said that about the serial killers living next door to them.

  “What brings you to a club on a Wednesday night?” she asked.

  “I’m visiting the area, and I want to live it up here as much as I can. I figured I’d check out a party or two and see what you city folk do for fun. What about you?” He leaned against the brick exterior of the club and glanced over at her casually.

  “Birthday party,” she mumbled, and then nervously leaned against the wall as well. “You’re obviously not from here.” He must have been from one of the more rural areas if he was referring to her as ‘city folk.’

  “Gee, you think?”

  “So where are you from?”

  “Does it matter?”

  It didn’t, but she still wanted to know. “Yes.”

  He turned his body, now leaning onto the wall with his left elbow supporting him. A small laugh escaped his lips and he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t ruin the moment by asking a lot of stupid questions.”

  She blinked a few times with surprise. “We’re having a moment?”

  “Yeah.” He kept his eyes locked on hers. He must have known the effect they were having. When she looked into them, she could see gleefulness inside him, as if he were playing some kind of a game and winning. It took her a moment to realize she was the game and she was letting him wi
n. As much as she wanted to stop him and take back control, she found herself unable to.

  “Sorry, it’s that smell again,” he said. The next thing she knew, his body was pressing hers against the wall and his nose was sniffing along the curve of her neck. He paused at the flesh connecting it to her shoulders and kissed it ever so gently. “It’s intoxicating. I hope you don’t mind if I have a taste.”

  “Taste? A little taste couldn’t hurt, right? Only a tiny one,” she stammered. What was this strange tingling she was feeling inside? She couldn’t understand why she enjoyed what he was doing so much. It felt so wrong, but in a good way.

  “Of course,” he murmured, and that was when he bit her. It didn’t hurt as much as startle her. The bite itself was filled with a raw and intense passion.

  The pain lasted for only a brief moment and then she was filled with a sense of euphoria mixed with confusion over why it felt so good. Why didn't she want him to stop? Her body tingled inside and out in ways she never knew existed. Just as quickly as he had sunk his teeth into her skin, he pulled out again and fled down the street. Several minutes passed before she regained her composure and everything started to sink in.

  Her hand instinctively went to her neck to numb the lingering sting. This also shielded the wound from unwanted stares. The bouncers nearby watched her curiously, no doubt wondering if she was just relishing in the moment of a lover's sweet kiss. In some ways, she was, because she certainly didn't feel any fear and was still lost in the wave of euphoria. With her free hand she pulled out her cell phone and dialed 411.

  “I need the number for a cab company, please.”