The Forever Girl

by Immortal Ink Publishing, LLC

  “How can you be sure? It could have been—” Been what? A human? Me? I’d been there, and I hadn’t seen him killed by any Cruor. I hadn’t seen what killed him, or who. I’d just seen him alive one second and dead the next.

  “Can’t say for sure.” She smoothed long strands of hair away from my face. The brush scraped through my shirt and snagged on my bra strap. I winced, and Ivory eased up. “But that’s what the evidence tells me. Isn’t it strange?”

  I guess she hadn’t heard I’d been there when it happened. I’d never talked to her about it. One of the best parts of college for me was going somewhere where no one knew my past.

  Across the room, a beaded lamp with fringe the color of paprika dimmed. One of the tassels swayed, as though a breeze had passed through. Pinpricks of cold spotted up my arm and neck, but when I blinked again, the tassel had stilled. I forced myself back to conversation, making an effort to keep my tone light.

  I couldn’t talk about Mr. Peternko anymore, but silence would make my discomfort too obvious. Thankfully I wasn’t lacking in the things-to-say department.

  “Does Charles always stalk people?” I asked.

  “Charles? Stalk people?” Ivory let out a bark of laughter. She combed her fingers through my hair a few times. “I doubt he would stalk you. Why would you even ask?”

  “I saw him outside my window one night. Then again at the woods.”

  “I found you by the woods, too. Do you think I’m stalking you?”

  Okay, so I was a paranoid, self-absorbed idiot. But I was also cautious.

  “Ivory, do you believe one person’s life can be closely tied to another’s?”

  “I do.” She stopped brushing, and I turned to face her. She was frowning. “This about Charles?”

  “I’m not sure. But for a stranger, he’s been popping up in my life a lot. And at the strangest times.”

  “You like him?”

  “After last night….” I shrugged, trying to hide the hurt that confusion and uncertainty were pressing into my chest. Ivory said he’d saved me, but I still had doubts. “I still don’t know why he left me. I could have gone with him to get help.”

  “I see.” Ivory sighed, shifting her gaze out the window. “You’ll have to ask him.”

  I turned around, and Ivory resumed brushing in silence. We shared a secret now. If the Cruor trusted her with their secrets, then I could trust her with mine. I could tell her about the voices.

  “About the whole Cruor-thing.” My hands were shaking, but I held them tight in my lap, doing little more than causing my shoulders to tremble instead.

  “I said I’m sorry. You need to understand why I didn’t tell you. And you need to really understand, not just say you do, because you need to keep it a secret for the same reasons.”

  “I do understand. There’s something I’ve been keeping from you, too.”

  “There … is?” She nearly stumbled over the two words, her voice smaller than usual.

  The Cruor’s existence defied explanation, just like my curse. Ivory might be the only one who would understand. The only one who might accept me even knowing about the voices. “Remember the positive energy ritual I told you about? A few weeks back?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, ever since, I’ve been hearing these voices—”

  The hairbrush paused for a moment, then started up again. Ivory’s voice came out clipped and quiet. “What kind of voices?”

  I shouldn’t have said anything. Obviously feeding on blood was fine. Seeing auras was acceptable. But no matter what ‘world’ you lived in, hearing voices meant you were crazy.

  “Nothing,” I said, closing my eyes against the hurt. “Anyway, they’re gone now. Probably just stress or something.”

  “Maybe.” She dropped brushing. “We should get you home.”

  * * *

  ON THE RIDE HOME, we passed yards of grass covered in frost. A finger unable to move less than three hours ago flicked the car lock back and forth with ease. How powerful was Cruor blood? Could it cure cancer?

  “Will you be there for Samhain?” I asked, blurting the first thing that came to mind. Blurting anything, really, that might break the silence between us. Though the Sabbat was still nearly two months away, it was present in my mind as the best chance to speak directly with my ancestor’s spirit.

  “Sure.” Ivory’s eyes didn’t break from the road.

  “Ivory—”

  “I said I will. Okay?” She pulled over in front of my house. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, eyes straight ahead.

  With Ivory not bothering to look at me, I felt as though she’d already driven away. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

  “What’s the point?”

  “Ivory, it’s not like you weren’t keeping something from me, too.”

  Her eyes watered, and her jaw tensed. “I knew someone who heard voices.” Her face swung toward me, her expression full of a hate and anger I couldn’t place and couldn’t bring myself to ask her about. The raw emotion made me flinch.

  “I—I’m sorry.” I swallowed, but my mouth and throat only became drier. “Are they okay now?”

  “They’re dead. So what do you think?”

  I didn’t know what else to say. “I guess I’d … better get going. See you soon?”

  “Yeah, see you.”

  As soon as I stepped out of her car, she tore off down the road. I should’ve known better than to share my secret. No matter how close I was to anyone, no matter what secrets they shared with me, I’d be foolish to think they’d accept my problems.

  My breath formed clouds in the air. It’d gotten cold so fast. Too cold for mid-September. This would be one of Colorado’s early winters. And with the way things were going, one of the loneliest as well.

  Pushing my emotions away, I faced my house. Another flash of Adrian’s life played before my eyes: a dual grave arrangement. The image cut off before revealing the names on the headstones. Something in my head popped, and a pressure on my mind released.

  Hopefully that would be the end of that.

  As I opened the front door and hung my coat in the closet, Red chirped, bringing a smile to my face but somehow making me sadder at the same time. I headed to the kitchen, where my yellow, pink, and purple lupines wilted in their vase on the windowsill from too much sun and not enough water. It felt like weeks had passed since I’d been home, but it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours.

  “I haven’t forgotten you,” I said to my little cardinal. “You need fresh water.”

  After I refilled Red’s tray, I headed to my bedroom. All the thoughts and feelings I’d been avoiding charged at me. How many people knew about the Cruor? How many people had died at their hands?

  I plopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Dust piled like dark clouds on the blades of the motionless fan above, but instead of grabbing some cleaner and a rag, I just stared, wondering at the intensity of the stale odor the dust created in my room.

  Across the room, the book Paloma had given me peeked out from my messenger bag. I hadn’t touched it since that night in the woods. The content seemed more relevant now. Though the noise was gone from my mind, the empty space where it’d once been thrummed against my skull.

  I couldn’t give up on my ancestor yet. I would have to look into the book’s previous owners. I’d run a search on the address after sleeping away the sickness roiling in my stomach over everything I’d learned.

  When I finally drifted to sleep, the nightmares returned: Elizabeth’s court document tumbling in a cold breeze through the dirt roads of a Puritan settlement. A noose cutting into her neck. My ancestor kicking her legs and digging her nails against the rope, looking around for someone—anyone—but the town was quiet. Then people started gathering, shuffling with empty eyes and sluggish steps.

  They’d come to watch her die.

  They smiled, and moonlight glinted off their fangs.

  Elizabeth’s thoughts whispered on the breeze:
Don’t tell a soul, Sophia. Don’t tell anyone of our curse.

  But the warning had come too late.

  {chapter ten}

  I AWOKE to dawn’s russet sky—a shepherd’s warning, some said.

  I shook away the eerie fog of my sleep by refreshing myself with a dose of reality: people’s hands were bound during hanging. My nightmare wasn’t real, or even reasonable for that matter.

  Yesterday, though, was not just a bad dream.

  Green electric numbers glared at me from the alarm clock on my dresser: 6:17 am. I glared back. I’d slept straight through the day and night.

  Once out of bed, I stared into my open closet. Dress pants or jeans? Jack wouldn’t care if I wore jeans to work. Some of the girls never wore uniform pants.

  Since when did I care?

  I settled for a boho casual look: an earthy brown, cream, and green-toned mandala print top with small touches of peacock-blue and a gathered keyhole neckline. I’d never worn it before. Not wanting to hunt down the scissors, I took the tags off with my teeth. I paired the shirt with medium-wash blue jeans tucked into my Eskimo boots.

  The full-length mirror mounted to the back of my bedroom door revealed no visible traces of the attack. I grabbed a hair tie off the doorknob. With the elastic in my mouth and my hands pulling my hair back, I changed my mind. Maybe I should leave my hair down. For me. Not at all because I was hoping to run into anyone. Especially not Charles.

  I bustled into the kitchen and made myself a quick breakfast of toast and orange marmalade with a glass of milk. Red chirped from the corner of the kitchen. After I changed his food and water, I slung my workbag over my shoulder and started out the door for Jack’s, but when I spotted the note taped to the inside of my front door, I froze, hand hesitating on the doorknob.

  My gaze dropped to the signature first, expecting another message from Mrs. Franklin. Instead, the note was signed, Yours Truly, Marcus.

  Heart slamming against my chest, my eyes shot up to the words above.

  So lovely to meet you, Sophia.

  May our paths cross again one day soon.

  I yanked the note from the door, shredded it with my hands, and threw it in the trash. My heart pounded in my ears as I ran, shaking, to my Jeep. What the hell was that creep doing in my house? How did he know where I lived?

  What if he’d done something to me while I’d be sleeping? I swallowed, then pressed my hands against my neck and slid them over my arms. I’d feel different. I’d know, somehow. I’d have to know.

  I needed a way to protect myself. Ivory’s suggestions were useless if the Cruor could break into my home without my knowing. I sped to the diner, flipping open my cell as I drove.

  Come on, Ivory … pick up. Come on, come on.

  After two rings, the call shot over to voice mail. Great. She wasn’t taking my calls. I hung up, my hands still shaking. I considered calling out of work, but I had nowhere else to go—not with these problems, not if Ivory was avoiding me. The very least I could do was surround myself with people until I could get in touch with someone who could help.

  * * *

  MAIN STREET was one of the few streets in my town with parking slots in front of the shops. I usually sat in my Jeep for a few minutes before going into work, staring at the bold lettering of Jack’s light-up sign. At night, the sign read, ‘Jak’s Dine’, thanks to the dead bulbs Jack never replaced. Today, I’d have to tell Jack I couldn’t work night shift for a while. He wouldn’t mind. He almost never put me on the night shift anyway.

  When I arrived, Charles was parked nearby, leaning against a blue Toyota Prius. Earth-friendly, at least. I’d give him that much. His features seemed more refined today—his eyes more alert, his dark tousled hair slightly less erratic. The sun and shadows on his face sharpened the lines of his jaw and nose, and his heather-grey, short-sleeve shirt revealed the contours of the muscles in his arms.

  Flutters started in my stomach, and a strange sensation rushed into my lungs. I shouldn’t be happy to see him. I certainly wasn’t surprised. Just nervous, in that breathless, pulse-drumming, knee-knocking kind of way. The kind of way that probably indicated something other than a dash of hope he might help me with the Marcus situation.

  I raised my chin and straightened my shoulders, as if that alone would make me seem confident. I needed to push this attraction away. Far, far away. The last thing I needed was another person to hide my secrets from, especially someone who had abandoned me when I was in danger. I needed to focus solely on getting some information that could help.

  I hopped out of my Jeep and locked the doors. Turning toward the restaurant, I found Charles standing only a breath away, his scent of vanilla, musk, and sandalwood hitting me immediately at my core. My heart thrummed. I stepped back, hoping to put more distance between us, but my back was met swiftly with my car door. He exhaled, warm air caressing my cheek and sending shivers over my body.

  “Could you … give me a minute?” I stepped around him before turning back to face him again—this time with my back to the diner, so I couldn’t get trapped. “Aren’t you cold?”

  “No.”

  Huh. “So … you came to my work….”

  “You invited me, remember? Said I’d find you here.”

  “Yep. I’m here. This is where I work, so I come here sometimes. For work.” Shut up, Sophia.

  He tossed a half-sneer toward my Jeep. “That thing yours?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Well, I’m sure the ozone is none-too-thrilled.” He scrutinized me, and his lips softened into a secretive smile. “You’re all dressed up. Special occasion?”

  “None that I know of.” I’d never achieve a normal heart rate in his company. Surely he wasn’t implying I’d gotten dressed up for his benefit, even if it were true.

  He lifted his finger to touch my lips, and heat rushed to my cheeks.

  What the hell was he doing?

  His eyes searched mine, his gaze so unrelenting I had to remind myself to breathe. The heat spread to my ears, my insides trembled, and the fresh pull of oxygen did nothing to cure the lightheaded feeling. I hoped none of this was visible, as I could think of only one thing worse than being attracted to Charles, and that was him knowing it.

  As he grazed my lip with his finger, a minty scent filled the air between us, and his thoughtful expression turned into a chuckle.

  “Toothpaste,” he said.

  Mortifying.

  At least now I wouldn’t walk around all day with toothpaste crusted to my face. Though that might have been better than him mentioning it. Not that I cared what he thought, because I was definitely telling myself I didn’t.

  I started to walk away, but his voice stopped me.

  “I didn’t wish to come here.”

  I spun toward him, hands clenched. “Of course not.”

  “I mean no offense,” he said, in the same way everyone did before saying something offensive. “I find you attractive, and I’m certain you’re a very nice girl, but I’ve come only because I owe you some explanation.”

  A very nice girl. “What makes you think—”

  “Don’t bother,” he said, giving me a cutting look. “I can offer you nothing more than this. If you’re not interested, that’s fine. Perhaps even better for us both.”

  “I’m interested,” I said. “But now’s not a good time.”

  He looked to the sky and squinted, the sun highlighting his bright eyes and dark lashes, then his gaze dropped to mine. “You’ve experienced something most people never will.”

  “Lucky me.”

  He grinned. “Did you just roll your eyes?”

  “Did I?” Heat gathered in my cheeks.

  A light breeze sifted through his hair, lifting the gentle curls that nearly tumbled into his eyes. Damn him for looking good.

  “You appear to have recovered well from last night’s events,” he said.

  As if I needed the reminder. “Look … I have a lot on my mind. Marcus was i
n my house last night, and I still—”

  Charles stepped forward suddenly, and I leaned away from his advance.

  “Marcus was in your house?” he asked. All his carelessness fell away in that moment, and, in its place, I simply saw a man. A very concerned man. “When? Did he—did anything happen?”

  “He left a note. Said he hopes we meet again, or something.”

  Charles’ shoulders visibly relaxed. “He wants you on your terms. Perhaps he had nothing to do with Cody coming after you.”

  “That’s not at all comforting.”

  “You’re okay here,” he said. “Public place, daytime….” He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. “Do you have to go in to work today?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t really, but I desperately needed to be busy. Needed something to ground me back in my own world, however crappy my world might have been.

  “Well, he won’t come here. We’ll figure something out before nightfall.”

  “So now you want to help me? I thought you just wanted to give me some answers and be done with me.”

  Charles jaw tensed. “Is that what you’d prefer?”

  “No, but—”

  “I don’t wish to be ‘done with you’. I want to help you.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I find you a bit intriguing.”

  I raised an eyebrow, trying to cover my discomfort over his compliment. “Back to Marcus,” I said, my words jolting him from the tender look in his eyes. “Would he send someone else? Since apparently humans like to help these people out?”

  “Most don’t help out in that way,” he said, slipping back into his know-it-all tone. “Regardless, he wouldn’t hire a human to do something he could take care of himself.”

  “I’m not something to be ‘taken care of’,” I said sharply.