Coveted

Page 16

The phone rang, startling me. I laughed at myself for being easily shaken and walked the short distance to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Is this Gwen, Gwen Sparks?” The man’s voice sounded like that of an elderly man, soft and raspy.
“Yes,” I said with uncertainty, peeking over my shoulder and around my kitchen.
“I have a deal for you,” the man said.
“Who is this?” I hurried to the window and looked out into the yard as if the man would just be standing out there. What can I say… people get paranoid when they’re scared.
“Who I am does not matter,” the old man said. “What matters is your life and whether or not you’ll have it for much longer.”
I couldn’t say anything to that. I slammed the phone onto the cradle and stepped backwards and away from it like it was a poisonous snake. The phone rang again, screaming through the kitchen and beating against my eardrums. I jumped. It continued to ring repeatedly until the sound became one long noise in my mind. I raked my fingers through my hair, frustration seeping through my veins.
“What do you want?” I growled into the phone, clutching it tight. A low, raspy chuckle rolled over the receiver and all the way down my spine. There was nothing fragile in that laugh.
“Avoidance is only postponing the inevitable, my dear.”
Goosebumps pebbled my arms, and my skin crawled as his soft breath sounded in my ears. I punched the END button and took the battery out of the back of the phone for good measure. Now rogues were making house calls? Suddenly the walls and locked door didn’t make me feel as safe as they had moments before.
Chapter Nine
I sipped my vanilla iced coffee on my walk to Broomsticks. As I headed down the sidewalk from Espresso Self to my shop, sharp stares and not-so-hushed whispers fell my way. The people of Flora really weren’t that different than those of a human small town; give them something to talk about and their mouths ran wild. I had brought chaos to their haven. I could almost see the ideas of pitchforks and torches in their steely gazes. As I passed one woman with a small child, I had to smile as she shielded the little girl from me as we crossed each other. In a town of monsters, I had become the boogeyman. Talk about ironic.
I stopped in front of my store, eyes wide and a frown on my face. A sheet of plywood covered the door. I had forgotten Dorian had busted it down, but that wasn’t what made me frown. In bold, red letters was the Latin word infelicitas, which roughly translated to bad luck. It was a warning to the townsfolk to stay clear of me. I could handle Fiona’s dad talking her into staying in Moon; she was his daughter and he was protecting her, but now my hometown was keeping a wide berth?
“What ever happened to unity?” I asked no one in particular, looking over my shoulder. A man—no, not a man, an elf picked up his pace to pass me and murmured something under his breath that sounded a lot like “cursed”. Shaking my head in frustration, I made my way down the alley and to the back of the store. Unlocking the door, I flipped on the light and stepped inside, making sure to lock the door behind me.
The storage area wasn’t very big, but it was enough for my small store. Rows and rows of metal shelving units ran in three lines to the left and to the right was a gift-wrapping station that rarely saw use. Just behind that was my office and restroom, the walls were made of cinder block and painted the color of sand.
I made my way up front, my steps slow and hesitant. From the back of the store the shop looked untouched, but I knew better. It was a crime scene, my crime scene. Once I made it out of the rows of glass shelves, I stopped. The register, pens, bags and various papers were strewn in front of the cashier station. Shards of wood and glass littered the gray carpet by the door. I stepped closer, my heart thumping wildly. Like a movie reel, those horrible memories replayed in my mind.
The rogue held me from behind, the dagger cutting into the skin at my throat. My head was full of blurry stars from getting it slammed onto the counter. Dorian stood on the other side of the counter, icy fury rolling off him in dangerous waves. He was as beautiful as an avenging angel.
“Can you kill me before I kill her?” the rogue had asked, pressing the blade tighter. I was losing consciousness but Dorian ordered me to keep eye contact with him.
I walked around the counter and stared at the space behind it. A deep dent concaved the wall where the rogue had thrown me against it.
The rogue’s hold loosened, the dagger’s sharp edge falling from my throat. Angry grunts sounded from behind me as the man fought against Dorian’s influence. With a hard thump, the rogue fell to the floor. Before I could join him, Dorian captured my falling body in his arms. With a swipe of his arm, he cleared the counter and placed my body on top.
“Stay with me, Gwen,” he whispered.
I blinked as the memory of his words bounced around my head. The last thing I remembered was Dorian catching me and clearing the counter. I was sure after that I had passed out yet, now things were being added to a memory I didn’t know I had. My eyes fell to the counter and the red stain of my blood coating it. A tremor vibrated my bones.
Dorian brushed my hair away from my face. My eyes were closed and my head lolled to the side. For all intents and purposes I looked dead. Dorian leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead. His fingers disappeared through the curtain of my dark hair while he rested his cheek against my head.
“You will not die,” Dorian growled, standing up straight. He looked to the ceiling; his hands fisted so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Do you hear me?” He yelled. “I won’t let you take her.”
I blinked back tears, surprised to feel them falling against my cheeks. Confusion consumed me. How was I able to see and hear Dorian when I was passed out? The memory was so vivid like it was there all along.
“Gwen,” Dorian said softly, standing and taking a couple steps. A white mist hovered just in front of him, so soft it was hard to make out. Dorian reached out his hand to the misty form and it became solid beneath his grasp. The fog solidified into that of a woman with long dark hair. Her back was turned toward Dorian.
I took small steps backwards while I saw the past play out in front of me. My throat constricted and the air in my lungs thinned. I jumped when my back hit the wall behind me. Looking over my shoulder briefly, I brought my gaze back to the space in front of me.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Dorian said to the woman. His voice was tinged with pain and indecision as though he were fighting some internal battle. The woman turned her head, her skin porcelain and cream. Her almond-shaped blue eyes stared unblinking at Dorian, but they churned like an emotional sea.
I gasped, my hand going to my mouth. The spirit was me. How was that possible? Tears spilled over my eyes, dripping onto my cheeks.
The spirit me looked at her body on the counter and then back at Dorian.
“I’m dead, aren’t I?”
“Not completely,” Dorian replied.
The spirit me wrinkled her eyebrows and stared at her abandoned body for a long while.
“Gwen, you have to return.”
The spirit’s eyes fell back on Dorian and then she looked over her shoulder.
“I’ll drag you back here and put you back in your body if I have to,” Dorian threatened. I turned to look at him, a frown bending my mouth down.
“If it’s my time—”
“It’s not,” Dorian snapped. “I won’t allow it.”
I looked over my shoulder again but before I could make a decision, Dorian held out both hands, palm facing toward me. The white mist making up my body began to drift toward him, disappearing into his palms. As soon as all of the fog was soaked up, Dorian turned towards my fleshy body and placed his hands on my chest. Tipping his head back, his mouth fell open and tendrils of white began to snake out of his palms and seep into my body.
That’s where my memory ended. The next thing I remembered was waking up in the hospital. “What the hell?” I murmured. Dorian hadn’t mentioned anything about capturing my soul and placing it back in my body. Was I supposed to die the other day? Was I just having an out of body experience? It was pretty creepy that Dorian had sucked my soul up. I had been inside of Death. Sure, I thought about Death being inside me a few times, but this was different—not sexy.
I wiped away the lingering tears, eyeing the counter with disdain as I stepped around it. The next time I saw Dorian, he had better start explaining or he would have more to fear than a loss of insight.
* * *
“Okay, I’m here. What’s the big emergency?” Jillian crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe leading into the living room. Her blonde hair was cut into a bob, longer in the front and shorter in the back. She was new to vampirism, turned five years ago. When she wasn’t working at Aiden’s bar, Vain, she covered nights at Broomsticks.
“I didn’t say it was an emergency.” I gave her a pointed look, one that reminded her I was her boss. She rolled her eyes and I barely restrained myself from getting up and smacking her head to see if they would stick like that. It would be hard to be a sarcastic vampire with crossed eyes.
Penny sat in the overstuffed chair next to me. Tonight she was wearing red and gray plaid pants with suspenders over a white baby tee. Her red-streaked muddy brown hair fell in twin braids over her shoulders. I had called them over to break the news about Broomsticks closing for a while. I had a feeling they wouldn’t be as broken up about it as I was.
I pulled my attention away from the screen of my open laptop and looked up at the girls. “Due to recent events,” I began, “the FPD thinks it’ll be in everyone’s best interest if I close Broomsticks for a while.”
“They’re making you close your store?” Penny asked with indignation. “That’s total BS.”
I agreed, but I didn’t want to add fuel to her fire. “The FPD asked me to consider it,” I told her. “Nobody’s making me. However, after careful consideration I decided that it’s for the best. Had you or Jillian been working when the rogue came, he could have killed you. I don’t want to put either of you at risk. Besides, just because the store is closed doesn’t mean there won’t be work.”