by Alexa Silver
The off-key tinkling of the bell on the door was the only music playing tonight. Will felt a strong sense of another paranormal as he walked inside; he’d felt it before in the area, but had never tracked down who it was. For some reason he’d felt the need to let whoever it was come to him. Maybe this was the night. Luminis instinct was a powerful force and Will’s people ignored it at their peril.
Hunger made the ordinary scent of grilled burgers and onions smell like a feast. His stomach reminded him again, with a forceful rumble, that he’d skipped lunch. There were a few others scattered through the diner, but he couldn’t place which one was pinging his radar. Nine o’clock meant the regular dinner crowd was already gone. The late-night shift workers wouldn’t be in until after eleven. If the semester had still been in full swing, there would be study groups taking up space and filling the place with life. But finals were almost over and the students frantically studying didn’t have time for the distractions of jukeboxes and blue plate specials.
Will stood for a moment, surveying the diner, instinctively checking escape routes and threat assessing the patrons. He was young, and frankly arrogant, but he’d never been accused of being stupid. His people had lived among ordinary humans since the beginning, though few knew of them. That was how it should be. The war they fought every day would never make the six o’clock news, but it was no less real. He’d learned to threat assess in his crib, though he’d had good reason for that. Something Will had no desire to think about.
At first glance it was a fairly ordinary diner with the false cheerfulness of bright lights and shiny chrome. The barrel ceiling and narrow aisle between the counter and tables brought to mind a railroad car, in the style that had been popular before the war. Will’s mom confessed to him once that the reason she liked the diner so much was that the interior reminded her of the Chrysler Building. Billy, I was a switchboard girl there before you were born. The pride in her voice whenever she told him that always made him smile. Leaving New York had been necessary, but they both missed it.
It looked like the diner had been enlarged sometime after the war. A doorway at the end of the counter opened into a larger dining area. The white tile floor of the old part of the diner gave way to a warm yellow that had been popular ten or fifteen years ago. The two floors didn’t quite meet evenly. Will had seen more than one person stumble going through the door. At this time of night, the back room was dark and a chain across the doorway reminded people to keep to the front of the restaurant.
He hesitated a moment, trying to decide between sitting at the counter or taking one of the empty tables. One look at the new girl working the counter decided him.
It was her. She was the para he’d been sensing.
God she was beautiful! She had dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Bangs framed her face, stark against her fair skin. He couldn’t tell what color her eyes were at this distance, just that they were dark. She was tall for a girl; five-six or five-seven. Almost shoulder height on him, and from what he could see of her, she had nice curves. Marilyn Monroe curves. Arousal flooded through him and Will subtly adjusted his book bag to hide the bulge in his slacks. He hoped it was subtle. At the moment he wouldn’t know it if the roof fell in.
He toyed with the idea of stopping off at the jukebox and selecting some appropriate music. At three songs for a quarter, he could make an impression but decided the relative quiet was better after all. Tonight was special, he just didn’t know how it would play out. Will hoped it wasn’t the kind of special that ended in blood.
He walked to the far end of the counter and sat next to the wall. Only one other stool was taken, but he wanted to be alone and this position also let him keep his back protected as long as he sat with the counter to his side.
The other guy at the counter was older. He looked fifty, but Will thought he was probably a bit younger than that. The stranger was dressed in shabby, but fairly clean, work clothes and had the unmistakable air of a man who’d seen action. He seemed to be talking to someone only he could see, but as the conversation was quiet, it didn’t seem to be a problem. The girl wasn’t afraid of him, that much was obvious. Will probed him carefully but there was nothing out of the ordinary about him. Will’s abilities were strong, but he had been taught young to hide what and who he was. He was only now starting to stretch himself. Like everything else, para abilities required practice.
The guy’s aura was troubling, but not dark in and of itself. Hatred directed toward himself; guilt; fear; regret; sorrow. It roiled inside the stranger. He’d definitely been touched by darkness and it had changed him, but the darkness wasn’t part of him. Will pushed just enough to see what the source was and shuddered when he saw it. Wars produced horrors, but the horrors this man had seen at the end of his war had stayed with him. Will wanted to go to him and thank him for having helped open the gates and bring the people out. Dachau, Auschwitz, it didn’t matter which camp it had been.
Too many of Will’s people had died there.
The end of Will’s last life had been inextricably tied to the end of that war and that was definitely something only for nightmares, rather than a grudgingly cheerful diner in the middle of Boston nearly a quarter century later.
“Can I get you something?”
The girl’s voice jolted Will out of his examination of the veteran at the other end of the counter and he swiveled toward her. He looked into her eyes and was caught. Still open from his examination, she hit him hard.
He’d seen her beauty when he’d walked in, but that had been an overall, almost abstract assessment. Now he was faced with rich brown eyes that somehow emphasized the deep red highlights in her hair. Her eyes warmed him. Her smile bespoke of a gentle soul, but the twinkle in her eye told of a mischievous side. He felt as if he had known this stranger forever. Memories stretched back beyond his birth. Lifetimes spent together, or spent longing for someone he’d never met.
He started to speak but then stopped, smiled a little and ducked his head. Will berated himself for his shyness. When she laughed, not unkindly, he thought he heard the rustle of wings and music. God, the music he heard in his mind when she laughed—it was incredible. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to reproduce it, but then he wasn’t sure he wanted anyone else to hear it. Anyone else but her.
Will floundered for something to say. This girl wasn’t the kind he was used to running into. The girls at Berklee didn’t give him a second look. His clothes were too threadbare and his eyes too old. Scholarship boys didn’t hold their interest. The other girls he ran into, the ones in the clubs he played, weren’t interested in anything more than a good time with a guy who might be famous one day. Will wasn’t above taking advantage of that sometimes. He tried to be nice to them, but they didn’t mean anything but a good time to him. Some of the guys didn’t seem to care even that much.
But this was different. Her name tag was twisted under her collar so he couldn’t read it. He caught himself before he reached out to straighten it. He wondered if she felt the same connection he did.
She didn’t seem to care about what he had or who he might be one day. When she looked at him, he felt as if she saw him and what she saw was good enough for her.
Did she see all of him? Did she see what the other girls didn’t? What he kept so deeply hidden out here in the ordinary world? And was that what she was after?
Will’s heart sank a little at the thought, but then she dropped a menu in front of him and smiled that warm, honest smile of hers. “Why don’t you take a look and I’ll come back in a few minutes?”
“Promise?” Will hoped he sounded teasing and not insecure. He wanted to tease her, to flirt with her, but he was very insecure. What if she wasn’t drawn to him? What if he was just another guy to her? He didn’t quite know how to talk to nice girls and some instinct told him she was the nicest girl he’d ever met.
And the most important.
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” she said, making a crossing motion over
her heart. Will grabbed her hand to stop her in the middle of it and she tensed.
“Don’t say that,” he said and then realized he might have just messed up. Her smile was gone and he wanted it back. “I mean, that’s a terrible thing to say. Never hope to die, okay?” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and then released her. Damnit! No chance she’d want to talk to him now.
“I never thought about it, but you’re right,” she said, a little smile peeking out as if a little mouse was checking to see if the mean dog was gone. He stared into her eyes and something in him fell into place. As if a gear had been out of kilter and had finally settled in among its fellows. How had he lived this long without her at his side?
“The blue plate tonight is good,” she said, holding his gaze. She quickly licked her lips then continued, “I hope you like meatloaf.”
“I’ll take it.” Will would have eaten anything she offered. He’d certainly eaten worse in his life than anything found in a diner.
Finally she looked down, a soft blush darkening her cheeks, but her smile was firmly in place. Will settled back on his stool and watched her write down his order then turn it in to the scowling cook in the back. He was an older man and Will wondered if he was the girl’s father.
Who cared? She was the one he was interested in. Dear old Dad would have to get out of Will’s way.
The girl kept her back to Will for a few minutes. He couldn’t believe his luck! Luminis weren’t so common that he met many on a daily basis. It had taken years to find the guys at school. He didn’t believe in coincidences, but he hadn’t questioned anyone about what had brought the four of them to Berklee together. Yet.
There were a few others he knew in the area, and a few more he knew of, but after what happened in WWII, they all tended to keep their heads down. Better to pass as an ordinary human and maybe miss out on the company of other Luminis than to attract the wrong kind of attention.
The kind of attention Will hoped to attract tonight was very definitely the right kind.
He watched the girl as she fussed with ketchup bottles and salt and pepper shakers. Every once in a while she’d glance over her shoulder at him, smile, then blush, then turn back to what she was doing. Oh, yeah, she was interested and his cock had been demanding attention since he first saw her. He’d never had trouble getting the girls he met in clubs when he wanted, as long as he wasn’t picky, but he didn’t want to just get this girl. He wanted to know her, not just have her.
Will was a little embarrassed to realize he hadn’t been paying much attention to the girls he, well, dated was a nice way of putting it. He’d been so focused on school and getting work and looking after his mom that the idea of meeting and getting to know a girl in the usual way just hadn’t come to mind. Maybe fate had decided it was time for him to change his ways.
“Coffee?”
She was back, coffee pot in hand, and Will nodded as he tried to find something to say to her. He was a writer, he should be able to do more than just stumble over his words. He could write lyrics that sounded great when sung, but when he tried to say the same kinds of things to a flesh and blood girl, he’d stammer and everything would come out jumbled.
“I’ve seen you someplace, haven’t I?” she asked him as she put the pot away, then came back to his end of the counter to clean its pristine surface again.
“Maybe,” he said, frankly embarrassed that he was proud he hadn’t stumbled over the word. “My mom works at Fenway.” Oh, smooth, Billy-boy! Just what a girl wants to hear! About a guy’s MOM!
“Oh! That must be a good job,” she said, sounding honestly interested. Maybe he hadn’t blown it after all. “Do you get to see the games?”
“Nah, she can’t get tickets.” Will scrambled for something more to say and hoped he didn’t sound as freaked out as he felt. “But she works real late sometimes and I don’t like her coming home by herself.” There, that wasn’t too bad. He spared a quick glance for the maybe-Dad in the back and got a slightly less severe scowl in return.
Either Will’s protectiveness over his mom caused a rise in dear old Dad’s estimation, or he decided Will was a Mama’s boy who was no threat to his daughter.
“I also go to Berklee.” Dad’s scowl was back. Apparently college boys were bad things. Wait ’til he gets a load of what’s next. “And I’m a musician.”
“Order up!” Dad growled and nearly shattered the plate of food he put down for the girl to pick up.
She turned around with a huge grin to attend to the order her dad—he had to be her dad—had ready for her. She grabbed it, settled it and the subsequent plates on her tray and whirled out from behind the counter to take it to the people by the front window. Will realized he was grinning just as broadly as he swiveled on his stool to watch her making her delivery. An odd sound from the kitchen had him turning back around. If looks could kill, Will would have been a smoldering corpse where he sat.
Will at least had the good sense to duck his head and pretend he cared what the man thought of him. Honestly he was too happy, almost giddy, to get on his high horse and confront the man about his attitude. Will rarely took shit from anyone, but if the cook was the girl’s dad, he guessed he would have to find a way to make peace with him.
At least until dear old dad realized he’d have to make peace with Will.
Then she was back and Will didn’t really care about anything else.
He was so damned smitten and he didn’t even know her name.
She brought him his food and managed to brush his hand with hers as she did it. He ate, but couldn’t have told anyone about the food. For all he knew her dad had pissed in it. He couldn’t have cared less.
They managed to exchange a few words as she bustled about, taking care of the other customers. There still weren’t many, but water glasses needed refilling, coffee cups needing warming. Pie was ordered. Will finished his meal, barely remembering what it tasted like, but his stomach was full. That was always a special occasion for him. There were too many times in his life when it hadn’t been.
Still, he’d found out she liked jazz. She found out he liked apple pie. She liked fog. He liked the smell of wet earth. She caught him trying to read her name tag and with an incredibly impish smile purposely made sure it was hidden from view.
Her dad sighed a lot.
And broke things.
She brought Will a piece of apple pie after she took away his plate. He hadn’t remembered it being part of the special, but it looked too good to ignore. The growls from the kitchen reached a new peak and he decided that meant the pie was a good sign. What Dad didn’t like was good for Will.
After he’d finished, she held up his check, nodded toward the cash register and started to drift in that direction. She almost danced, or maybe that was just his imagination. She was so graceful, whether walking with a loaded tray or just standing there talking with him.
He followed her, ignoring her dad’s obvious disapproval. They got to the register at almost the same moment. It wasn’t easy to see from the kitchen, something that made Will smile, though her presence was enough to do that.
“College is expensive,” she said with no preamble. She punched some buttons on the register until the “no sale” sign popped up with a ding and the register drawer popped open. She smiled at him and leaned over the counter then whispered, “My treat tonight.” She tugged lightly on his shirt and he leaned in, glad she took the initiative. He probably would have broken something.
She pressed her lips to his quickly and Will couldn’t stop his moan of desire. Just the feel of her lips nearly made him come. It took all his control to not do something that would embarrass them both and left his balls aching. Then she leaned a little more and whispered in his ear, “My name’s Christina.” She kissed his ear, then said, “Nice wings, William.” Then she was back firmly on her side of the counter, a huge smile on her face as she danced away and back under the ever-watchful eye of her maybe-dad.
Christina.
Will wanted to burst into song and that was not something he tended to do. If he hadn’t been in the middle of Boston, he would have gone for a flight, but that would likely just get him into trouble again. Some members of the Conclave would like nothing more than to ground him permanently. He did have a pencil and his notebook and there was the Commons across the street. If he couldn’t bring himself to burst into song, he could at least write one for her.
Maybe there’d be fog.
Chapter 2
Christina all but floated through the rest of her shift. She’d been sensing all day that something good was going to happen but had had no idea what it might be.
Then Will had walked in.
She’d looked as soon as the door jangled. Tall, with the longer hair boys wore these days that irritated her uncle. He’d worn old, but well-tended clothes. She’d recognized him, but couldn’t remember where she’d seen him before. Not in the diner; it hadn’t felt that personal and she hadn’t been working there that long. It wasn’t until she’d handed him the menu and she met his gaze. She remembered those deep-blue eyes, that intense expression from the music festival.
It wasn’t an official festival, just a bunch of local guys who’d started getting together to play on the Commons. It started with one or two guys with guitars on a Saturday. Then a band or two started showing up. Then, one weekend in May, it seemed every local group decided to show up at the same time. It had been magical.
Literally.
She didn’t think magic had had anything to do with everyone deciding to show up on the same day, or if it did, it was beyond her ability to see it. But there was magic in the music, and a lot of that magic had flowed from the shy, shaggy-haired guy she’d just given a free meal to.
How had she not noticed him before? He had to live around here somewhere. Christina shivered as she remembered the flash she’d gotten of his wings. The deep-blue was incredible, but she couldn’t decide if she’d seen or just imagined the silver and gold tracing through the blue.