by B E Kelly
That was a lifetime ago and now, at thirty-five, he was finally trying to take control of his damn life. He found someone who could help him bring down Anthony Sr. and end the human trafficking ring his so- called partner was running. He’d make sure that both his boss and Ringer pay for what they had not only done to his father’s company but to Sophie. Now, all he had to do was figure out a way to get off the side of the fucking highway and to his meeting. He and his sister’s futures depended on it.
Elizabeth
Beth ran into the little corner diner her sister asked to meet at. It was her sister’s favorite place since they served breakfast all day long and that was Lyra’s favorite meal. She didn’t have to be a seer to know exactly what her sister was going to order either—pancakes with strawberry topping and bacon on the side.
Lyra was sitting in their usual spot in the corner and gave Beth a wave when she spotted her. Elizabeth could tell that her sister wasn’t in the best of moods and she almost dreaded the conversation Lyra said she needed to have with her.
“Hey,” Beth tried for cheerful but judging from her sister’s smirk, she missed her mark.
“Hi,” Lyra said, scooting over in the booth to make room for her sister to sit next to her. “Sit here so we can talk,” she ordered. Beth did as her sister asked; knowing that whatever they were going to talk about had to be a serious matter for her little sister to want to sit so close to her. Lyra was never a very touchy- feely person.
Beth slid onto the red leather seat, pulling her jacket off. “Okay, spill it,” she said. “This cloak and dagger routine is starting to worry me, Lyra.”
Her sister nodded to the waitress heading their way. “Let’s order first and then I’ll tell you everything.”
“Fine,” Beth reluctantly agreed. The smiling waitress appeared as if on cue and they ordered. She quickly returned with their coffee and Beth could feel the tension rolling off her sister. By the time the waitress finally gave them some privacy, Lyra looked about ready to burst into tears.
Beth reached for her sister’s hand and squeezed it into her own. “Oh, Lyra. It can’t be that bad. Just tell me,” she said.
“I had a dream,” Lyra whispered, her voice breaking with sadness. “The woman—she was hurt and so scared. I felt it, Beth. I felt all her worry and fear. It was terrifying.”
Beth wasn’t sure if she wanted to cheer and fist pump the air or pull her sister in to console her. She remembered how frightening her first experience of seeing was, but she also had her grandmother to guide her through. Beth always suspected her sister had the gift too, but Lyra was too stubborn to admit it. She tried to deny her abilities and even ignored them and Beth knew from experience that could make them worse. She had gone through something similar when she was a teenager. Beth tried to push her abilities to the side in order to have what she thought would be a normal life. Each night, the dreams came and only intensified with each passing vision. After a while, she knew that denying her gift was like trying to ignore her right hand. It was a part of her and always would be. Now, she had Lyra to share everything with and that made her happy, even if her sister seemed anything but thrilled about her situation.
“It gets better,” Beth soothed. “You can learn to control it and I can help.”
“Thanks but no thanks,” Lyra spat. “I don’t want to be a freak—” She stopped mid-sentence and Beth knew the rest. Her sister had called her worse over the years, but she thought they might be passed the entire name calling thing by now.
“Like me?” Beth questioned, finishing Lyra’s thought for her. Her sister covered her mouth with her hands, as if the words had actually come out of her own mouth.
“No,” she lied. “Beth, I didn’t mean it that way. I watched how you suffered growing up. When other kids found out what you could do, they were relentless.” Beth didn’t need to be reminded of how the other kids treated her growing up. She remembered all their snide, nasty comments all too well, but she wouldn’t have changed who she was to have it easier. Every crude remark helped to mold her into the person she was now and she had to admit, she liked herself even if others had a problem with her. She just never imagined her sister would be counted as one of the others.
“They used to call you horrible names,” her sister continued.
Beth held up her hand, as if silently telling her sister to stop talking. “I know exactly what they used to say about me, Lyra,” Beth said. “I don’t need you reminding me and I certainly don’t need you to add to the list of crappy remarks already ingrained into my soul. I wear them like a badge of honor, you know. Every horrible comment about me being a freak of nature has made me who I am and I like me,” she admitted, “even if you don’t.”
“I like you, Elizabeth,” Lyra protested. “You’re my sister and I love you. I’m just not ready for any of this,” she said, throwing her hands up like a crazy person. “Whatever this is.”
“It’s a gift,” Beth offered. “That’s what grandma told me when she realized what I could do.”
“I wish she was here now,” Lyra admitted.
“Me too,” Beth whispered. “She’d know just what to say, but I hope you’ll let me try to be the next best thing. I want to help you Lyra, if you’ll let me.”
Lyra hesitated but finally nodded. “Thanks, Beth. I think I’m going to need a lot of help,” she said. “I’m a mess and I’m worried that Delilah can do it too. God, what if she can? How do I help her through this if I don’t understand it myself?”
Beth smiled, “I can help you both. Like you said, I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. I’ll get you through this and together, we’ll get Lil through.” Her grandmother had talked about the generations of women who came before them who had the same abilities. Apparently, seers were strong in their family line. Her father had never shown any signs of being a seer and her grandmother said she was beginning to lose hope that she’d be the last of the line. Beth knew her grandma would love knowing that both she and Lyra and now possibly Lil all had the gift, continuing the legacy of women who could see through their dreams.
“Did you tell Mom or Dad?” Lyra asked. She knew what that conversation sounded like and she cringed remembering her own talk with her parents. They were less than receptive when she admitted to being able to see through her dreams. Her mother even called her grandmother a witch and said that she was a bad influence on her daughters. Her grandma was the only good influence in her life and when her mother threatened to keep Beth and Lyra from seeing their grandmother, Beth took back everything, saying she made the whole thing up. Her grandmother hated that she did that; telling her that denying the truth wasn’t who they were, but Beth couldn’t risk losing her grandmother—not when she needed her most.
“No!” Lyra said. “I’d never tell. Mom and Dad are just oblivious. Mom would find a way to blame Grandma, even from her grave. Or, she’d blame you and I don’t want to be the cause of any tension. Lord knows we already have enough of that going on in this family.”
Lyra wasn’t wrong. Her parents got along as well as two fighting T-Rexes. Beth sometimes wondered why they were still together with the way they seemed to despise each other. If Lyra admitted that she had the ability to see to their parents, it would only cause more trouble.
“So what next?,” Lyra all but whispered. The waitress brought their food out and her sister pushed it away as if it offended her.
“Well, first—we eat,” Beth said, pushing the plate back in front of her sister. “Then, you tell me about your dream and I try to help you make some sense of it. But, I have to warn you, there isn’t always a clear- cut answer and sometimes, you spend years trying to figure out what is going on. In some cases, you never figure it out,” Beth admitted, thinking about her own recurring dreams of Reaper. He was still a mystery to her, even after all the endless dreams and countless hours spent trying to figure them out.
“Great,” Lyra said, biting off a piece of her bacon. “This sounds like so much fun,”
she grouched.
Beth giggled, “Well, it’s no cake walk but when you help your first person, it all feels like it’s worth it—promise.” Lyra nodded and dug into her pancakes and Beth wondered just how many people she delivered messages to. How many lives she possibly helped or even saved with her gift. But not everyone could be saved. There were a few who chose not to listen or heed her warnings. There were some who decided to go another route and that didn’t always end well for them. And then, there was Reaper. Beth wondered if she’d ever be able to figure his story out and how to help him. He was a mystery and her greatest challenge and Elizabeth worried she’d never figure him out.
****
She spent most of the afternoon with Lyra at the diner, in their little corner booth, trying to work out her sister’s dream. It was very similar to her own visions and she wondered at how strangely wonderful it was that they seemed to have the same gifts.
Lyra said that the woman looked to be in her late twenties, had long blonde hair and had tattoos on her arms. She seemed to be afraid of someone or something and kept asking Lyra to help her. Beth knew that helplessness that her sister felt at not being able to help a stranger who was calling for her. She faced that same scenario night after night and when she woke, Beth felt completely useless.
Lyra promised to call her in the morning, to give her an update on any new dreams and Beth agreed to help talk her through them. She knew that between the two of them, they’d be able to figure out how to help this woman. It was strange that she felt so confident in her sister’s abilities yet doubted her own at times. But that was just the way she worked—self-doubt and trial and error had become a part of her everyday existence.
Beth needed to get home after spending so much time trying to help Lyra, she was going to miss her deadline and that wasn’t acceptable. She had never been late turning in her projects and she wasn’t about to start. Her boss was flexible but she knew that he was counting on her. Her latest project was a comic book for a super heroine called Vision and she had to admit, it intrigued her. The woman could see into the future and she used her superpowers to help stop crime. It was how Beth used to imagine her life would turn out, but her adult reality didn’t come anywhere close. Still, she loved her job as a graphic artist and it allowed her to use her free time for painting, which was her passion.
Instead of heading directly home, she decided to take a detour to visit her grandmother’s grave. It seemed only fitting that she go to tell her grandma about her sister’s news, personally. Sure, she’d be talking to a stone with her grandmother’s name on it but it still felt like the right thing to do. Besides, she hadn’t been to visit her in a few months and it was time. Beth stopped at a local florist and picked out her grandmother’s favorite flowers—tiger lilies. She was only about a mile from the cemetery when she spotted a guy sitting on the side of the road next to what she assumed was his broken down motorcycle. She didn’t have time to stop. Hell, she didn’t have time to be visiting her dead grandmother, yet there she was, pulling over to the shoulder to see if she could help.
Elizabeth wasn’t sure what the protocol was for helping a complete stranger out on the side of the road. She had been taught never to pick up hitchhikers and for all she knew, this guy was out trying to lure helpless women to the side of the road to abduct them—or worse. She giggled at just how silly she was being and hesitantly stepped from her car, taking a deep breath and letting it out for courage.
“Hi,” she squeaked when the guy stood and towered over her. She almost had to strain her neck to look up at him, shielding her eyes from the sunlight as she did.
“Hi,” he said. His deep voice sounded like sex on a stick and Lord, the man was handsome. He wasn’t classically good looking; he was even a little rough around the edges. He had two full sleeves of tattoos and a few days’ stubble that really seemed to work for him. His dark brown hair was disheveled, most likely from his bike helmet and she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through it. God, she wanted to run her hands all over him, but that was ridiculous—they had just met and only said two words to each other.
“Um, you need some help?” Beth questioned.
“Yeah, thanks,” the beautiful stranger said. “My damn bike broke down and I was on my way to an important meeting. I’ve been out here for a little over an hour and I was starting to worry that no one was ever going to come by.”
“Yeah,” she breathed. Beth couldn’t figure out why she was so nervous but she was. There was something oddly familiar about this guy but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was like he was a whispered memory in her mind, someone she met a long time ago. Someone she possibly knew from a dream and that thought had the hair on her arms standing on end. Whenever fate led her to someone she was supposed to meet, her skin would tingle as if her whole being was trying to warn her to pay attention and this guy certainly had her tingling.
“There’s not much traffic on this highway since they built the new overpass and toll road.” She knew the area well, even if it was a little out of her way now. Her grandmother had lived just a few miles down the road and that’s why her dad picked the cemetery she was laid to rest in.
“You’re from here?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “Not really. I grew up about twenty minutes from here, but my grandma lived just down the road.”
“Well, I’m sure glad you stumbled out this way,” he admitted. “I might just be able to make my meeting, if you can give me a ride.”
Beth looked down the road to where she was headed. She wanted to visit her grandmother’s grave but not helping out the handsome stranger felt wrong. Maybe her grandmother had led her down this path. Maybe she was supposed to meet him and possibly even help him.
“Okay,” she agreed. “But if you’re a mass murderer, I’m going to be really pissed off.” The stranger threw his head back and laughed at her. He was gorgeous and she felt her eyes freely roaming his body, taking in every inch of him. He stopped laughing and seemed to take notice of her gaze. She should have felt embarrassed or even ashamed of openly gawking at him, but she didn’t. And the way he was now watching her made her even hotter, if that was possible.
“I didn’t catch your name,” he said.
“That’s because I didn’t give it,” Beth said. She wasn’t sure if it was wise to give him too many details about herself, just in case he was out to murder her and leave her body to rot on the side of the road. But, surely she could give him her first name, if nothing else.
“I’m Elizabeth,” she said, holding out her hand to formally introduce herself. It was silly really, trying to shake hands with a stranger on the side of the road. He left her standing there, like a complete idiot, with her hand out.
He hesitated and then reached for her outstretched hand, taking it into his big, warm one. Her skin felt as if it was on fire everywhere he touched her. He quickly pulled his hand free, as if he felt the same fire.
“Wow,” he breathed.
“You feel it too?” Beth questioned.
“Yeah—fire,” he said. “Um, it’s good to meet you, Lizzy,” he said.
“Elizabeth,” she corrected.
“Well, you look more like a Lizzy to me,” he said. Alarms were sounding in her head and Beth remembered her dream from the night before. Hell, it had been the same dream she had for years now, but last night’s vision seemed to be more vivid than most of the others. She was sure that meeting him now wasn’t a coincidence. Could this man really be the same boy she had dreamed of all these years? Elizabeth searched his green eyes for any sign of the little boy who was begging her for help on the beach. The same boy who was angry at the sea for destroying his sandcastle. The boy who left the marks on her arm when he grabbed her, demanding that she not leave him. She felt as if she could see into his soul and Elizabeth knew she had her answer.
“Reaper?” she whispered.
Confusion clouded his eyes and Beth knew she was crossing the line, but
she didn’t care. She usually made it her personal rule not to form any connection to the people she was supposed to help, but after countless years of seeing the same little boy in her dreams, that rule was nearly impossible to follow. She was already invested in him and now with the man who stood before her, whether she liked it or not.
“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” he asked.
“No,” she quickly admitted. “Not really.”
“Then how in the hell do you know my name?” he questioned. Beth wasn’t sure how to answer him. Usually, she delivered the message she was given for a person, without having to disclose too much about how she knew what she usually did. But, she worried that Reaper might prove more difficult to convince. There wasn’t any way she could explain away knowing his name as a simple coincidence. He still towered over her, crossing his arms over his massive chest and squinted at her, as if daring her not to explain herself.
“I’m waiting, Lizzy,” he growled. “You wanna tell me who the hell sent you?” Beth knew there was going to be no way around the truth with Reaper and she was going to have to come up with some answers—fast.
Reaper
Reaper wasn’t sure what to make of the fiery brunette who seemed to know him. He would have remembered meeting her that was for sure. Her long dark hair hung down almost to her waist and she had the most beautiful dark eyes he’d ever seen. The way she watched him, looked at him, it was like she could see directly into his soul and that thought scared the shit out of him. Reaper wasn’t much of a sharer and the idea of someone being able to see him wasn’t one he liked. And, the question still remained—how did she know his name? The only explanation was that he was being followed. Someone had gone to a good deal of trouble to send sexy Lizzy to follow him.
