by Dean Murray
As I finished my reverie in the mirror, I turned to survey the bathroom, realizing that I had forgotten to grab a change of clothes. I re-wrapped my towel tightly around me and opened the door to my bedroom. Jason very carefully avoided looking at me while I shuffled through my closet looking for something to wear. I didn’t really care if he saw me in a towel, but I appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. I grabbed the deep red, long-sleeved shirt that Allison had picked out for me and one of the few pairs of non-holey jeans from my closet, went to my dresser to get underwear, then went back into my bathroom to change.
I had some difficulty pulling my casted arm through my shirtsleeve, but finally managed. I left the sleeve scrunched up to my elbow above the cast, then went back into my room. Jason was standing by the window, looking outside.
“I better go talk to my mom,” I said.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, without taking his gaze from the window.
“No, I’ll be back up in a sec.” I left my room and gently shut the door, then trudged downstairs to face the music.
I expected my mom to be mad at having to cut her trip short to bail me out of the hospital, but she was all sympathy. She had actually baked blueberry muffins while waiting for me to wake up. She ran up and hugged me as soon as I came down the stairs, then hustled me to the table. There was already a coffee mug waiting for me as she went into the kitchen to grab the muffins and the coffee pot. She set the pot beside my cup and set a blue ceramic plate with three gargantuan muffins on it in front of me.
“Umm, am I expected to eat all of those?” I asked sarcastically while filling up my mug with coffee with my good hand.
Ignoring my question, my mom sat down across from me. “So, I’ve been thinking, maybe I shouldn’t go out of town so often anymore?”
“Why?” I asked, mouth full of muffin.
“You broke your arm and I wasn’t here!” she shouted, then covered her mouth in surprise at her reaction.
“Wooaah,” I said, waving my good arm in a calming gesture. “It’s not that big a deal.” I held up my casted arm. “It’ll be good as new in no time.”
“And how did it happen that Jason was around at two in the morning to take you and Allison to the hospital?”
“Um, we called him? Duh.”
“Yeah, likely story,” my mom said, smiling. “If boys are going to be hanging around, we need to lay down some rules.”
I groaned at the mention of rules.
“First,” she began, “I will be informed whenever you will be spending time outside of school with a boy. Second, when said boy is involved there will be a 9:00 curfew.”
This elicited another groan from me.
“And finally,” she went on, “know that you can always talk to me about anything pertaining to boys or otherwise. Now eat your muffins.”
Unable to help my smile, I obliged and took another enormous bite. Mmm, muffins. Nice, normal, non-portentous muffins.
After breakfast, I went back up to my room to talk to Jason. As I walked into my room I saw that he had returned to sitting in my desk chair. He looked up from my copy of On the Road, by Jack Kerouac. I walked over to my bed and plunked down. Jason looked at me expectantly.
“Sooo,” I began, “we haven’t heard anything from Lucy or Al since last night?”
“I haven't,” he answered. “Perhaps you should try calling them?”
“No. I don't know, I guess I’m afraid they won’t answer.”
Jason’s face scrunched up in confusion.
I elaborated, “Allison wouldn’t meet my eyes the whole time we were at the hospital, and Lucy never even spoke to me after what happened with Dan. It felt like . . . like they were afraid of me.” I could feel cursed tears welling up yet again. I kept my eyes very wide, trying to prevent them from falling. I didn’t want to cry anymore. You would think I would have run out of tears by now.
Jason rose to sit on the bed and wrap his arms around me. My last thread of restraint dissolved and tears fell in hot streams down my face. Jason held me while I spilled what were hopefully the last of my tears for the situation. We ended up lying on my bed, dirty sheets and all, facing each other. Jason’s greater height put his head a little above mine. My tears had finally run dry. He gently stroked my still-damp hair while I regained my composure. He smelled clean. He had showered at some point, but I wasn’t sure when. I thought about all that Jason had done for my friends and me. He had risked his life for us. Somewhere along the road I had gotten over the fact that he was a vampire and had killed people in the past. After all, I was a killer now too.
So I decided vampire-schmampire. I looked into his dark blue eyes, leaned in, and kissed him for all I was worth. The kiss started out soft, he hesitated slightly. I wrapped the fingers of my good hand in his hair and pulled him closer, making him give in to the moment. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me against him and kissed me like he meant it. When he gently pulled away I was left flustered and without breath. He smiled a small smile and stroked the side of my face.
“You have visitors,” he said. He gently kissed my forehead, and then, just like that, he was up and out the window. A heartbeat later there was a knock at my bedroom door.
“Come in,” I called.
The door swung open and there stood Lucy and Allison.
Allison came hobbling into my room and gently climbed onto my bed beside me, obviously still in pain from last night. “Good morning sunshine,” she said to me smiling. “Glad to see you’re looking better. Non-human healing is so unfair.”
Lucy walked over to my bed with lowered eyes, and sat down beside me. When she finally met my gaze, there were tears in her almond eyes. I waited for her judgment, waited to be called a murderer, a monster.
“Thank you,” She said.
I looked a question at her.
“You saved me Xoe, you all saved me, but you most of all. None of us would be here if it weren’t for you.”
I closed my gaping jaw and grabbed Lucy in a hug. I let her go reluctantly. Allison scooted closer to the wall and I scooted to the middle of the bed, giving Lucy room to lie on my other side. We all lay there looking at the ceiling.
“So,” Allison began, “now that you’re a full-fledged half-demon and all, are you finally going to get over your hang-up about Jason’s past?”
I turned my nose up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said with a haughty air. I knew I’d eventually have to tell them about Jason and me, but for now, I could do without them making girly noises and kissy-faces at the mention of his name.
“Oh come on Xoe, he is so in love with you.”
“You know what Al?” I replied, ignoring her statement. “I think maybe you’re the demon.”
With that we all burst into laughter, and for just a moment were able to forget that our lives as we knew them had been turned completely upside-down.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jason had to leave town for a few days to report back to Dan’s pack and get whatever they were supposed to pay him, and to fill out some forms of all things. I didn’t ask how much he was getting. However much they gave him, it wasn’t enough. He has since returned to Shelby and he’s staying, at least for now. He got himself a nifty apartment and everything. I’m pretty ecstatic about it, though I’ll never admit it out loud. The whole dating thing is kind of new territory to me, but I seem to be doing okay. I finally had to tell Lucy and Allison. They would have found out eventually. The teasing has been ceaseless.
Brian’s still not talking to me. I’m afraid that he never will. I can’t really blame him for not wanting to get involved. I’m sad about Brian, but at least I still have Lucy and Al . . . and Jason. Max still hangs around. He follows Al around like a lost little puppy, no pun intended. She pretends not to notice.
I’m still learning to control my powers. I’ve accidentally lit a few things on fire, but luckily nothing living. Hopefully my luck continues, not just with my powers, but with
everything else. Fingers crossed.
The story continues in “Accidental Ashes”
Sara C Roethle is the author of the Xoe Meyers Series, the Bitter Ashes Series, and the Tree of Ages Series. For new release updates, please follow her mailing list by clicking the link below:
http://eepurl.com/Wt3bj
Lauren is visited in her dreams for years by a stranger claiming to be her destiny. Destiny becomes reality when paths cross during a failed robbery attempt. Lauren and the stranger experience chemistry like no other and now her doubt over her long time relationship with her high school sweetheart is not her only secret…someone else knows about her keen intuition and sixth sense.
A mysterious clairvoyant seeks Lauren out and tells her not only of her life now but what the future may hold. Soon Lauren is in the middle of a murder investigation and a questionable friendship with the key suspect. Law enforcement, friends and family are concerned for Lauren but unfortunately they are unaware of the true danger… Sinister forces are at work and will stop at nothing to destroy Lauren’s abilities.
MEETING DESTINY
Destiny Series, Book 1
2nd Edition
by Nancy Straight
Copyright 2012 by Nancy Straight
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Sharing of this book is permitted on Amazon. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, you are encouraged to return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-4507-2109-7
Chapter One
Seth stopped by to get a salad halfway through my shift – it’s one of the only things he’ll eat from the menu. “I’m hitting the library. You need a ride home tonight?”
I shook my head, “No, I’ll catch a ride with Melissa. Call me later?”
“Sure, but it’ll be late.” He leaned across the counter, “I miss you already.” He’s the sappy romantic type. Seth and I have lived next door to one another our whole lives, our moms were best friends in high school, and we’ve been dating, I guess, since middle school. As I watched Seth make his way to the parking lot, I saw someone coming through the door who made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
I watched the man closely, not paying attention to the order monitor or anything Melissa said. He must have felt me staring at him because he caught my gaze for a second. Neither of us moved. He stood two steps inside the doorway as if arguing with himself whether he wanted to be here.
The man had bushy brown hair that looked as though it hadn’t seen a comb in days and likely not any kind of shampoo in weeks. His hair lay in all different directions. It looked dark brown, but I couldn’t tell if that was really the color or the grease from neglect. His face looked like leather, covered in stubble, with deep crevices from the sun and a sunken in cheeks. He was slender and tall, easily five eleven, maybe an inch or two taller.
His clothes were a mess. He was wearing a dirty white t-shirt hidden under a thick green winter coat. The coat looked like the old Army jackets from the sixties with a large silver zipper. The coat’s length hung well over his thighs. It was unzipped and hung over blue jeans that were too long and too big for his frame; maybe at one time they fit his waist, but that was at least twenty pounds ago. His appearance made me think of a homeless person, maybe an addict whose addictions had shrunk his body, maybe a vagrant happy to find a decent pair of jeans from Goodwill.
His appearance didn’t disturb me nearly as much as his expression. It was as if he were looking through the people, like the people in the restaurant didn’t actually exist. The hair on my arms joined the hair on the back of my neck, all at attention. I felt uneasy: I don’t know how I knew, but I knew this man was trouble.
I scanned the room and saw several tables had opened up. It looked like there were maybe twenty customers, not nearly as many as just fifteen minutes ago. All seemed to be oblivious of this newcomer.
“Lauren!” The voice caught me off guard and quickly brought me back to reality. Melissa looked frustrated with me, “I need four fries and two cheeseburgers.” From her stare, she must have had to repeat herself. I watched as the customer wearing the green coat moved from the door to her line. I put the fries and cheeseburgers on the tray and pretended to be looking up at the order monitor.
Embarrassed, I managed, “Sorry, I must have been daydreaming for a second.”
Only two orders were in line. A woman in her late thirties, who looked like she had just left an office, had her four-year-old son in tow. The four-year-old was babbling as if he hadn’t been able to talk all day. I only vaguely heard his questions, “Mommy, can I have a toy? Can I have a boy toy? I don’t like the girl toys. Remember when I got a doll? I want French fries. Can I have chicken? Mommy…”
The green jacket guy was bad news, and I knew I had to get Melissa away from the counter, even if only for five minutes. Before the exhausted mom could place her order, I tapped Melissa on the shoulder. “Hey, Wanda wants you to go inventory the freezer.” I am a horrible liar; I made a conscious effort not to make eye contact with her. I just needed her out of the way until the green jacket guy left.
“No way, I didn’t bring a coat. I’m not doing the inventory.” She blasted this louder than I had expected, and I winced, turning around to see if Wanda had heard the exchange. Wanda was assisting the drive-through and luckily paid no attention to the two of us. “Besides, I did it last week and did a miscount - too many beef patties on this week’s shipment. Wanda told me not to do the inventory alone again - ever.”
I needed to make this sound good, so with as forceful a voice as I could muster, I looked straight into her eyes, “Look Melissa, I’ve got plans tonight and can’t work late. You can’t handle the front by yourself. If we’re going to get out on time, you have to figure out how to do basic math and get a count on the freezer!” My angry voice devastated my upbeat friend, and the hurt on her face was as clear as if it had been written in marker. “Just go.”
Stepping to the register, I put my back to Melissa, betting she would depart without any argument. I took the order for the mom and son while watching every move from the man in the green jacket. He was looking around wildly at each of the exits, over his shoulder, through the windows; I did my best not to catch his eye again. Rather than piecing their order together and going on to the man in the green jacket, I waited for their order to be complete.
I took a deep breath and told myself I was overreacting. He didn’t force his way to the front of the line. If he were really dangerous, he wouldn’t have acted like a normal customer. It’s not like I haven’t served people who were poorly dressed and in need of better hygiene. I tried to tell myself that he was just a hungry man in need of a shower.
No, if anything, I’ve learned to trust my instincts, and every fiber of my being told me this guy was bad news.
As I got the exhausted mom’s to-go order, I was thankful that she was as anxious to leave the restaurant as I was for her to get away from the man standing two feet behind her. Her son continued with an endless string of questions, although I believed she was tuning him out as well as I was. The working mom thanked me and walked straight to the nearest exit.
My stomach felt like I had eaten a rock - or maybe a whole box of them. The ache from my stomach now joined the tiny hairs on my neck and arms that hadn’t relaxed since this stranger walked through the door. My heart started racing so fast that I could actually feel my pulse through my skin.
With as cheerful a voice and smile as I could produce, I finally looked at the man and asked, “May I take your order?” This was the first time I had made eye contact with him since he first stepped through the door.
His hands were in the pockets of hi
s jacket. He broke eye contact and looked at the menu behind me. In a hushed voice, he whispered, “I sure am hungry.”
Rather than a smart response like, “Well duh, this is a restaurant,” I waited patiently, plastering the most pleasant look on my face that I could find.
My heart refused to slow down. “Take your time,” I answered as casually as I could. I looked down at the register, thinking too much eye contact might agitate him. I realized that by now Melissa was safely in the freezer, probably pissed, but at least she was safe. Five minutes after this guy goes, I’ll go back and apologize to her. I’ll explain that I’m really a lunatic instead of a jerk.
“I know what I want,” his voice boomed. I looked back at him; before my eyes reached his, they stopped at his waist where I could see he had a gun. I stared at it as he slid it back into his pocket. I was thankful he had only shown it to me and hadn’t brandished it, sending the customers into a frenzy. Knowing the potential horrific outcome, I was relieved that it was just he and I who were aware of his gun. Unfortunately, he was the only one aware of his intentions.
I kept my eyes trained on his pocket. Without looking back to his face, I asked, “What can I get for you, sir?” My voice didn’t crack, and I gave no indication of the fear that enveloped me. My reaction, or lack thereof, might have surprised him a little.
He paused, eying me carefully before he demanded, “I’d like some food and any cash you have in that drawer.” I could see he was pointing his gun through the pocket of his jacket as he motioned to the cash register.
