Bad Omens
Wicked Creatures
Lorraine Kennedy
Copyright © 2019 Lorraine Kennedy
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter 1
Life sucks but death sucks even more.
There is pretty much nothing worse than waking up on the wrong side of a grave.
Up until this point, my experience with death had been limited to random ghosts and other odd occurrences.
But all that was about to change and not in a good way. Getting yourself murdered is one of the fastest ways to remedy ignorance when it comes to the afterlife.
My experience with death came the night my neighbor decided to murder me and bury my body in his backyard. To say I had a near-death experience would be putting it mildly.
I clearly remember the taste of dirt in my mouth and the utter darkness of that void that exists between life and death.
If that wasn’t bad enough, there was also the voice in my head – an annoying voice that I was pretty sure didn’t belong to some angelic being.
“Get up. A dirt nap is one thing, but you have business to take care of.” The snarky, unpleasant voice echoed through my skull.
There was something strangely familiar about the voice. In fact, the spectral voice sounded quite a lot like someone I knew.
What kind of person torments a murder victim?
As much as I wanted to yell at him for harassing me while I was in the middle of dying, every time I opened my mouth, more dirt clogged my airway.
Dirt naps suck!
“If you don't do something, your nap will turn into a very long sleep.” the voice persisted, though now it was fainter and not so irritating. I was drifting toward a dark abyss and I had no idea what to do about it.
But this isn’t really how my crazy journey into the arena of death began. The entire incident started with my boss being a jerk and a really strange encounter.
I can’t say there hadn’t been signs of the bad things to come. There had been plenty of bad omens, but I’d never been one to pay a lot of attention to omens, bad or otherwise.
It all started on a really dark and moonless summer night.
Life in the big city wasn't treating me too good on that particular night. Needless to say, I wasn’t in the best mood.
Getting stranded in a dark parking lot has a way of doing that to you.
My car had died and was in the process of spewing black smoke from beneath the hood.
Climbing out of the car, I looked around to be sure no one was watching before turning my wrath on Millie, my blue Honda.
“I told you I would change your stupid oil soon but no, you just can’t wait! Why do you always have to give me crap?” I grumbled some more.
It wasn’t that I couldn't sympathize with Miss Millie. I could totally understand why she’d conked out.
Living in poverty didn’t allow for much extra money to spend on things like oil changes and car repairs. It wasn’t really Millie’s fault. I firmly believed that if you treated a car like a living breathing being, it would always take care of you.
That wasn’t working well for me at the moment, but it would. With a little TLC, Millie would recover. I was sure of it.
Nope. This wasn’t Millie’s fault at all. It was my dickhead boss’s fault, or to be more accurate, my ex dickhead boss. Freddy had very recently become my ex-boss.
“Sorry, old girl,” I said, patting Millie’s hood, lovingly. ‘You’re right. This is totally Freddy’s fault. I should have demanded a raise months ago.”
I’d been working too long for chump change, which is one of the reasons I told him to get off his ass and mop his own floor. I’d been hired to work part-time as a debt collector, not a housemaid.
Oh well. Good riddance. I was better off not associating with a soul-sucking bill collector anyway.
It was time for a new job. Freddy could continue to line his pockets with blood money without me. I was okay with that.
But how was I going to get home?
As if on cue, I heard the roar of a Harley as it made its way through the near-empty parking lot of the North Town strip mall that housed, Freddy’s Collections.
The bike was headed straight toward me.
This could either be good or bad. As much as I wanted to flag down the cyclist and ask for help, I held back. The bike's headlight was so bright that I couldn't see the rider at all. As far as I knew, it could be one of Freddy's hired henchman out to get me for calling him a lazy, good for nothing bloodsucker.
Of course Freddy wasn't an actual vampire. If he were, he might actually have manners. Not that I believed that draining someone’s blood was good manners, but vampires did have to be charmers to get that far.
The rider pulled up beside Millie and killed the bike’s engine. With the light no longer in my eyes, I could actually see the rider. Right away, I knew there was something different about him.
He was one of the hottest guys I’d ever seen, but there was also something so dark about him that for a split second, I actually had the urge to run, and I’m not usually a runner. I admit, there have been times when I would gracefully bow out of what I considered a no-win situation, such as if I’m in danger of getting shot or eaten by a wolf. But mostly, I stare down danger.
I am a Summers witch and we don’t run from danger.
True, I may not be a particularly powerful witch like my sister, but I was still a Summers and that meant something.
A Summers witch stared danger in the face and stood their ground. At least that’s what my mother had always said. That had never changed the fact that she wouldn’t allow us to be out after 10:00 on a school night. Even on Halloween, we’d had a curfew. Whoever heard of a witch that had to be home by 10:00 on Halloween night?
As I looked into the guy’s dark eyes, I felt a little unsettled. He was alluring, but also frightening.
The drop-dead gorgeous biker was wearing black leather that showed off his exceedingly sexy body. The dark hair that curled around his shoulders and the facial hair around his mouth was especially attractive. I liked my men a little on the rough side and this guy fit the role almost too well.
“Need some help?” he asked, his deep, silky voice swept over me like a burning caress.
Good timing was one thing, but there was no way he could have known I was having car trouble from the street, which was over a hundred yards away?
I was ready to tell him as much when I remembered that Millie had been sending up smoke signals. The black billowing clouds of smoke could have easily been seen from the street.
“Yeah, I think she blew an oil gasket or something.”
Putting the bike’s kickstand in place, he slid off and stood next to me. He was easily a good head taller than I was, though I admit, at a little over five feet, I’m not tall.
“Pop the hood and I’ll see what’s up,” he instructed.
I was faced with a dilemma. Should I give this stranger access to my car or call a tow truck?
Since I couldn’t afford a tow truck, I decided to pop the hood. I figured if he was a serial killer, I was doomed anyway.
I heard him fiddling with something under the hood. Offering to help was a good gesture, but I was pretty sure his efforts would turn out to be fruitless. I would probably still have to call a tow truck.
“Okay, try it,” he called from beneath the hood.
I turned the key and was surprised when it actually started. Relieved, I left it running while I got out to thank him.
“Wow! I was expecting it would be a lot harder to get he
r started. Thanks,” I told him.
Nodding, he shut the hood. “Your fuel is burning too hot. You probably have some clogged fuel injectors. If I were you, I’d get that taken care of as soon as possible.”
“I will. Thanks.”
He gave me a nod and a smile. “Glad I could help. Isn’t this a bad place for a young woman to be after dark?”
I glanced at all the dark stores that made up the strip mall. Most of them had been closed for hours. He was right. It was dumb to be out here so late, but that was Freddy for you. He’d have worked me until midnight if there hadn’t been a law against harassing people with threatening phone calls after a certain hour.
“You’re probably right,” I said, turning back.
I was completely alone. My rescuer was gone and so was his bike.
But that was impossible.
I hadn’t looked away long enough for him to leave. Besides, there’s no way he’d have gotten that bike out of here without making a lot of racket.
I was pretty sure he hadn’t been a ghost and he sure hadn't been a figment of my imagination. My imagination wasn’t quite detailed enough to come up with someone that hot and mysterious.
Nevertheless, he had disappeared without a trace.
Unnerved, I quickly got into my car and I got the hell out of there. Whatever or whoever he was, there was definitely some bad juju involved. My luck was already pretty bad. I didn’t need to make it worse.
Chapter 2
There’s a reason why I was always getting into trouble as a kid. Following rules and listening to advice just wasn’t in my DNA.
But I should have seen the signs.
There are bad omens and then there are really bad omens.
Most bad omens aren’t difficult to spot. Blood on the moon is a sure sign that there are bad spirits hanging around and you can bet your last dollar that those spirits are up to no good. If the number thirteen repeatedly shows up in odd ways, you’re in for a spell of bad luck.
Those signs are too in your face obvious to dismiss, but there are other signs - signs that are easier to write off as a coincidence, such as a flock of crows.
Crows are messengers of death. Needless to say, if you see a flock of crows circling outside your window, it’s a really bad sign. You should probably start shopping around for a cemetery plot.
And that’s exactly what happened. The flock of crows that haunted the airspace outside my bedroom window was a sign that fate and my creepy neighbor had some pretty nefarious plans for me.
I can remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday.
My bad luck started the day Freddy fired me. It was just after Finals Week.
Everything had been going great until that day. My trouble with Millie was only the beginning.
It was 10:00 in the morning and I was just dragging my behind out of bed when my phone rang. It was my stepfather.
“Hello,” I answered, trying to sound cheerful. If I came off as too grumpy, he might figure out that I’d been fired. If that happened, I’d get a lecture.
I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.
“Hey, Destiny. I hope I didn't wake you."
“Not at all,” I said, still trying to sound cheerful.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you at work,” he said, as if he’d already guessed my big dark secret.
“Nope. Not working today.”
It wasn’t a lie. I liked it better when I didn't have to lie.
“You know we’re planning a family reunion this weekend. We’d really like for you to come to Raven Point for a visit since you’re done with classes.”
The thought of returning to Raven Point had my stomach in knots, but not because of my family. I missed them all. It was the darkness that was so much a part of Raven Point that sucked. It was just too much to deal with.
Sighing, I slumped onto my bed. “I don’t know. Now that I am done with classes, I should really be looking for a better job.”
“You can look for a job anytime. It isn’t often we have our family together,” he said. “Besides, it’s only for a week.”
“I’ll think about it.” I kept my voice neutral so he wouldn’t jump to conclusions.
“Think about,” he said. “Your little sisters miss you and so do the boys.”
“Tell them all I miss them too.”
I just don’t want to deal with Raven Point’s dark side.
Of course, I didn’t say that part out loud, but I was tempted.
Dad cleared his throat. “Okay, just let me know if you plan to come up. We’ll have a special dinner waiting for you.”
Not this again!
He was always trying to plan special dinners so he could arrange a special guest. My stepfather was determined to get me married off.
“Any special guests?” I asked.
“Not unless you include yourself,” he laughed. "Why all the weird questions?”
“No reason,” I said. “I'll let you know.”
“Also, I saw an advertisement for a job here that you might be interested in. Since you’re graduating soon. Back Street Recoveries & Investigations is looking for people.”
I’d heard of Back Street Recoveries, though I’d never seen them advertise for recruits. Back Street specialized in hunting crooks that were into all kinds of nefarious activities, as well as anything else too complicated for regular law enforcement to deal with.
“That’s interesting.” I was noncommittal. “I'll talk to you soon.”
After ending the call, I headed for the shower. Without realizing it, I'd already made up my mind.
It would only be for a few days.
What could happen in a few days?
It would be a really short trip. I’d be there just long enough to say hello and give everyone a hug before heading up to the big city to find a job.
I’d already been thinking about moving to Portland or Seattle. Raven Point was on the way, so why not make a little detour?
Chapter 3
Slipping the iPad into my travel bag, I sat on the end of the bed and proceeded to go over my packing list again.
I’m a bit obsessive compulsive.
I toyed with the idea of audio books. It was a long drive from Los Angeles to the southern coast of Oregon. Without anything but late night talk radio to keep me company, I’d go nuts.
Those late night radio shows were always talking about weird stuff like aliens and conspiracies. If they only knew about the Zones, they’d really have something to talk about.
A loud thump drew my attention to the bedroom window.
When something hits a second floor window with enough force to rattle the glass, ignoring it isn’t an option. Normally, I'm good at ignoring unpleasant stuff, like when Cindy’s headboard is banging against the wall all night. I ignore it because I know that my interference wouldn’t make a bit of difference. I was sure that Cindy was completely unaware that she was a succubus, but I saw it the moment I met her.
Cindy liked to suck the life out of her partners. I sometimes wondered if her lovers were ever curious about why they became impotent and started losing their hair after a romp with my sorority sister.
There was that sound again.
In spite of my extreme talent for ignoring what I don’t want to deal with, I couldn’t bring myself to ignore my window rattling a second time.
Dropping the list onto my bed, I went to the window to check it out.
Although the light was fading, I had no problem seeing the crows circling a few feet from the window.
A chill slid down my back.
Grandma Addy would have said that someone had just walked over my grave, but I’d never taken her seriously.
Maybe I should have.
The idea that crows were messengers of death was just pure nonsense, in my opinion anyway.
My gaze fell to the alley below. It was really more of a little walkway that ran along the back of the sorority house than an alley, but everyone called it an alley.
I was ready to dismiss the entire incident to jittery nerves and too much caffeine when he stepped forward and looked up at me.
Instinctively, I moved back from the window. The tall figure blended into the shadows so well that if I hadn’t been paying attention, I might not have noticed him.
Dread blossomed in the middle of my chest like a bad case of heartburn and too much tequila.
It was the guy from the strip mall parking lot.
What was he doing staring at my window?
Had he followed me home?
Stalking my bedroom window was just plain creepy! No matter how you sliced it, it wasn’t a good thing.
“What are you doing?”
The voice came out of nowhere, sending my heart jumping into my throat.
Some brave badass you are!
But hey, I had an excuse. My nerves had been wound pretty tight lately. Being a little jumpy was completely understandable.
Besides, as soon as I saw it was Kayla, my pulse returned to normal.
Kayla had a bad habit of creeping up on me at the most inconvenient moments, so I shouldn’t have been the least bit surprised to see her standing near the bedroom door.
Kayla was my unofficial, pain in the ass roommate. As usual, she thought it was her job to scare the crap out of everyone, including me.
My unofficial roommate was a mess.
Her reddish blond hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in a week. If I were being brutally honest, it had probably been a lot longer than a week, but I wasn’t the type to point out someone’s flaws.
“Stop doing that!” I gave her a fierce death stare, which is even worse than a regular scowl, and much worse than a frown.
Not that Kayla ever took a hint, but I wasn’t ready to give up on her just yet.
“What are you doing?” she asked again.
“I was packing when I heard a bird hit the window,” I told her as I made my way back to the bed.
Zipping my bag closed, I placed it on the floor against the wall.
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