by Jamie King
I stare out of the window thinking about the green eyes staring back at me. Who was he? He seemed so familiar. I struggle to place him, but only green eyes encompassed by darkness come to mind. He was beautiful. He seemed otherworldly. Something about his presence was different from anyone I’ve ever met.
Eryn pulls into the small driveway. “We’re here.” She announces and throws the car in park. “Anyone want some lunch when we get inside?”
“Sure.” I slide from the SUV and numbly make my way into the house. I pass the stairs and a small powder room before I stop at the kitchen entrance. “Actually, I think I want to just lie down.” I say and set my bag down against the wall.
“Okay sweetie. I’ll grab you a blanket. Will you need anything else?”
“I think I just want to lie on the sofa for now.”
“I can light a fire for you if you would like?”
“Sure.” I agree, so that she feels as if she’s helping in some way.
A few minutes later Tiffany and I are sitting side by side on the sofa staring into the blazing fire. The odd electric buzz continues to surge under my skin. “I feel weird, Tiff.”
“Same as last time?” she asks, her face marred with concern.
I nod. “Like my insides are vibrating.”
“It could just be stress. You know how stress can do really weird things to people.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I lean into the plush cushions of the sofa and pull the fuzzy purple blanket over me. “I think I should just take a nap.” She places her hand over my leg and pats it as she settles into a more comfortable position.
“I’ll be right here.”
“Thanks.” I whisper. Her presence is warm and calming. The only sister I’ve ever known. I smile as I allow the comfort to wash over my frayed nerves.
Water gently laps back and forth against the creamy sand at the water’s edge. A cool breeze rustles the trees surrounding the small clearing. I run my fingers through the grass beneath me as the moon light delicately casts its silver glow on the world around me. The small pond shimmers and ripples the reflection of the moon and stars. This is the first moment of pure calm I’ve felt since my mother’s death. I take a deep breath and fall back into the grass beneath me. Fluffy clouds float through the purple and blue sky. The edges of the clouds turn a soft lilac as they pass beneath the moon. Rustling bushes stir me from my daydream. I sit up and glance around. Two bright amber eyes prowl toward me. Large rounded ears twitch and flick as they react to our surroundings. Enormous black paws cautiously pad in my direction. Barely any sound can be heard from the large cat. Her slender body slinks slowly in my direction.
My heart thuds in my chest as I anticipate the large cat’s attack. She stops only inches away from me and then flops to the ground and nips the tips of grass near my feet playfully. I quietly let out my breath in a feeble moment of relief. A chirp releases from her throat and a purr rumbles through the small grove. The large panther rolls onto her back displaying her belly and stretches a large paw in the direction of my feet playfully. I sit, motionless r. Any movement may provoke predation. My eyes meet the large saucers of amber. A paw reaches for me again and this time I feel more confident. I reach a hand toward her belly and slowly begin to rub. My fear evaporates the longer I’m in contact with her. The deep rumble of her purr echoes through the small grove.
“What’s your name?” I ask as I tickle her tummy.
Belanor appears in my mind like someone placed it there for me. “Belanor?” She strokes her rough tongue over my arm at the sound of her name. “Can I call you Bel?” She purrs at my words and nudges her nose into my hand. “Okay, okay. Hello – Bel.” I giggle.
Twigs snap and leaves crunch under a heavy weight in the shadow of the trees. My hand freezes mid stroke as a pair of bright green eyes come into view across the pond. The full figure of a white lion gracefully enters the small grove. His large white mane flows elegantly with each step as he prowls toward us.
Bel flips over and stands in a smooth motion. She darts to the lion and shoulders him as she throws her head under his chin in greeting. The two large cats snarl and rub their faces against one another before flopping onto the grass to play. I watch in amusement and awe as the two large beasts play like frolicking lovers beneath the full moon.
The lion ends the play and prowls in my direction again. His heavy breaths fill the night air nearly masking out the sounds of his massive paws hitting the earth. I hold my breath as his enormous head comes only inches from my face before he gently places his nose in my hair and breathes in and out deeply. He backs away and collapses onto the earth next to me and releases a heavy sigh. Bel hops like an excited rabbit before joining us on the grass once more. After a moment, a gentle snore comes from the lion. His breath heavy and relaxed. I lean back onto the grass and stare up at the night sky once more.
For some time, the three of us lay this way until an odd rustling comes from behind us. Birds that had been silent produce alarms of warning. I sit up and turn toward the sound. The lion growls and Bel lowers herself to the earth. Her ears point in the direction of the noise and her tail twitches in agitation. The rumble from the lion vibrates my skin with his power.
A black wolf slinks through the trees, his eyes glowing ice blue. He lurks at the edge of the tree line pacing back and forth staring at the three of us intently. His ears are back, and his tail is erected. A quiet growl emanates from Bel beside me. Her tail flicks and she repositions her feet. The wolf responds with a snarl as he inches forward, but pauses as the lion lunges for him. His large white mass is a blur in the moonlight as he slams into the wolf provoking a squeal. Whimpering, the wolf darts off into the forest leaving fallen leaves in his wake.
CHAPTER FOUR
4
I’ve grown antsy from being cooped up in Tiffany’s house. I stare through the window at my house next door. Crime scene tape is strung across the front door. A constant reminder of what took place. The police still haven’t located the culprit. I don’t think they ever will because I don’t think it was murder. I can’t say that though. They’ll think I’m crazy if I mention suicide by magic and tell them that it was because of a dream that I came to this conclusion.
Eryn places a warm pancake on my plate beside the steaming helping of scrambled eggs. I grab a slice of bacon from the center of the table and take a bite. I guess now is the best time.
“I want to go back to school.” Two sets of eyes stare back at me. Tiffany had been about to take a bite of her pancake and a large glob of syrup drops onto the table. “I’m going stir crazy and I need something to focus on other than sitting around the house.”
Tiffany appears concerned and places her fork back down on her plate. Her uneaten piece of pancake flops from the fork and settles on the plate. “It’s only been a couple weeks since the funeral, Ri. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
I barely remember the funeral. It was a closed casket. The people that came wished me their condolences and shared their stories of my mother. I hated it. These people pretending to care. Pretending to know. They know nothing of who she was. They know nothing of how she died. They know nothing. It was suicide, but I can’t tell anyone. How would I even begin to tell someone? Tears sting the corner of my eyes. I gaze through the window and blink away the tears. I can’t break down here. If they see me waver I won’t be able to leave this house.
Eryn flips a pancake and it hisses as it settles in the pan. “I think that would be very nice.” She pulls the golden-brown pancake from the pan and places it on an empty plate. “Grace would have wanted you to be in school and looking to your future.”
“It will be nice to get back to campus.” Tiffany adds with hesitation. I touch her arm and offer a smile.
The timer on the oven dings and Eryn pulls out a tin. “Wonderful.” She says as she places the tin of cinnamon rolls on a hot plate at the center of the table.
“Yum! Cinnamon rolls.’ Tiffany groans in delight .
&
nbsp; I grab a warm gooey roll and place it on my plate. I lick the warm icing from my fingers before snagging another slice of bacon from the large pile at the center of the table.
“Well, girls, why don’t I drive the two of you back to campus this afternoon so that you can spend the weekend getting settled back in.”
I nod my agreement and bite into the gooey cinnamon roll. “That sounds good.” I say between bites.
“Oh, this means I can still make it to Friday movie night with Kevin!”
I laugh, “I see you got his number.”
“Sure did.” She beams.
“While you two have date night and hang out all weekend I get to play catch up with my classes.” I feign jealousy.
Eryn pats my hand. “Finals will be coming up soon. I expect you both to be prepared.” She glances between me and Tiffany with a cautionary raised eyebrow.
“We will.” Tiffany and I say in unison.
Clothes are scattered over the floor. Notebooks are piled in the corner beside the twin bed. I sigh and set my bags down on the bed.
“Do you need anything?” Tiffany asks gently from the doorway.
“No thanks.” I inspect the mess again. “I just forgot I’d made such a mess.”
She nods and puckers her lips. “Well, you are a bit messy.” She offers a wink and disappears to her room.
The coffee pot on top of the mini fridge is fill with coffee that must be from the morning of Halloween. I flip the top of the coffee maker open to find pillows of white mold covering the old coffee grounds. “Oh, god.” I slam the top shut. That will be gross to clean. I pick up the strewn clothes littering the floor and shove them back into the tiny closet.
I unplug the coffee maker and march it to the kitchen and toss the whole thing into the trash can. “That takes care of that.” I brush my hands over my pants and sit on the sofa. The bright beginning of the sunset pours through the large bay windows. Who would have thought this would be my life? Eighteen and an orphan.
I glance at the clock over the oven. Five Thirty. I could always start my homework now, but I would want a cup of coffee to go with it. “Why?” I groan and rub my face. Well, the campus coffee shop is open twenty-four-seven I can always grab coffee and come back to start my work. I slide into my shoes and tug on a light jacket. I jot down a note for Tiffany.
The damp cold seeps into my bones and a cool breeze sweeps my hair across my face. I pick up the pace as a trail of goosebumps spreads down my arms with each new rush of air. The bridge that leads directly to the café is canopied by beautiful orange and red tree tops which provide the perfect reprieve from the breeze. The warm light of the sunset kisses my cheeks one last time before I enter the shadows. The campus is quiet for a Friday evening. I shiver at the loss of sunlight and shove my hands deeper into my pockets. The wooden planks of the old bridge creak under my weight.
A tall broad-shouldered man stands a few paces in front of me. Dressed in all black I can almost make out a white circle over his heart embroidered on his leather jacket. The hood of his jacket sweeps over his eyes and casts his face in dark shadows.
My steps falter and I come to a stop. He’s just standing in the middle of the walkway like a statue. Who is this guy? My heart races and I cycle through ways to escape, but regardless of which scenario I choose he’s probably faster than I could ever be. He takes a step forward and I reach for my pepper spray that I keep hidden in my jacket pocket. My fingers touch only cloth. The pocket is empty. What a time to misplace something. A warm stinging pulse shoots through my veins and the weird buzzing electricity comes back. He takes another step forward. I take a small step back. He cocks his head to the side at my movement. My heart flutters. He takes another step forward. No, no. Leave me alone. My heart thuds in my chest and my breath grows sharp and fast. Just stop! Hundreds of leaves lift from the earth and hover in the air around us.
I glimpse around in awe as the feeling of electricity buzzes under my skin. The man tilts his head slightly to the side again. Is he doing this? His body language is unreadable and his hands are open and relaxed at his sides.
A low booming voice ruptures the silence. “I’m here to help.”
“You don’t seem like you want to help.” My voice trembles with each word to match the trembling of my hands.
“I guess I don’t.” He raises his hands in the air in surrender. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” He slowly pulls his hood back to reveal his face.
High cheekbones merge into a full beard and his strong jawline intersects his thick neck muscles. Dark golden-brown hair falls over his broad shoulders as it’s released from the hood. Deep green eyes are sunken into a strong brow and golden brown skin glistens with small beads of sweat.
Recognition hits me as I recall the man standing in the parking lot of the hospital on the day of my release. “I saw you at the hospital.”
“You did.” He nods. “Nuri, I’m here to help you.”
How does he know my name? I take a step back without thinking. “Help me with what? Why would I need your help?” Could he be the one that was arguing with my mom? A wave of sharp heat shoots through my veins and my heart thumps harder against my ribcage.
“With this.” He says and then plucks a leaf from the air and twirls it between his fingers. The leaf catches fire and burns away to ash.
I stifle a gasp. I glance around at the hovering leaves. Is he saying that I’m doing this? I push my hands into my coat pocket and let out an uncontrollable shiver. The cold is seeping into my bones.
“Would you like to go somewhere warmer to talk about this?” He offers.
Yes, somewhere more public. People will be around. “There is a café is just across this bridge behind you.” I offer and walk in his direction.
“Don’t you want to release these leaves first?” He asks in amusement.
“I’m not doing this.”
“Oh, but you are.” He chuckles. “Relax and visualize the leaves gently lowering back down to the earth.”
“Fine.” I close my eyes and imagine the leaves gently floating to the ground. The hum under my skin grows stronger and my fingers tingle.
“Good.”
I open my eyes to the air clear of leaves. I release a sigh. “Was this really me?” I stare down at my trembling fingers. “I didn’t even know I was doing it.”
“You lack the knowledge and understanding, but your subconscious knows instinctively how to control it.”
He keeps a slight distance away from me as we make our way to the small building at the end of the bridge. The old wooden door with two large floor to ceiling windows on either side emits a welcoming glow. The right window displays the sign for “High Octane Café: Coffee and Pastries” and the left window displays their twenty-four-hour sign in red and black bubble letters. The mystery man pulls the door open. The bells that dangle from the door announce our arrival.
“Thank you.” I say quietly and pass through the doorway. Wait. Why on earth am I thanking this man? He’s a creepy stranger! Yet, there is something about him that is comforting. Something about him that seems familiar.
The aroma of coffee and sweets envelops me as I move further into the room. The warm yellow glow of the lamps cast down over the polished hardwood floors and brightly colored green and purple tables accented by bright orange chairs. The far wall is rust orange and the surrounding walls of the café alternate between lime green and royal purple. Coffee dispensers and a cream and sugar station sit atop an orange countertop. Pastries line the far-right wall set inside a rounded glass display.
I smile at the girl behind the register. “Small latte please.” I can feel the presence of the mystery man close behind me. The girl behind the counter smiles and hands me my coffee. “Thank you.” I smile warmly at her and hand her cash.
I drop the change in the tip jar then search for a private table. I slide into a purple chair set against the wall in the far corner with a lime green table. The mystery man sits across from me, am
usement clear on his face. My attention falls on the white circle embroidered on his jacket. The emblem is a white ouroboros with a dragon head an exact mirror of the black one tattooed on Jakes wrist.
“Hello, I’m Luka, member of the White Dragon coven. I’m a member of their,” he pauses and wrinkles his face, “Military force, I guess that is the best way to describe that.” He nods to himself. “You see Nuri, I’m a supernatural being – well kind of – well I’m human. I mean, people call us witches.”
I stare at him blankly. He’s for real. “You mean like hocus pocus abracadabra kind of stuff, right?” I ask half joking. This guy is out of his mind, but those leaves were floating. He did light that one on fire without a match or anything. It had to of been sleight-of-hand or something. I can’t let him fool me. He’s probably the one that killed mom.
“Yes, sort of.” He trails off. He sounds perplexed by my question.
“Say I believe you. Why do I need help from you?”
“Well, as you could see today, you have magical abilities and it’s apparent that you didn’t know about them. Your mother wasn’t a member of any known covens or even registered as solitary, so it seems you may only be half witch and it’s possible that your mother wasn’t the witch and your father provided the magical lineage. Have you ever met him?”
“Witches? Covens? Magic?.” I say quietly taking in his statement. “And I never met my dad and my mom never spoke of him. I don’t even know his name.”
He tangles his fingers together. “I see.” He taps the table rhythmically. “That makes it less complex I guess if you have no familial connections in the magical realms.” He turns his head to the side. “We can always figure out your ancestry later.” His playful demeanor grows serious. “Nuri, if you don’t learn proper technique and control over your abilities you could end up harming someone.” He pauses again as if searching for the right words. “Someone like Tiffany.”
