First Impression (A Shadow Maven Paranormal)
Page 13
I nod to reassure her.
As the doctor finishes her spiel, a nurse enters with a wheelchair.
I groan and stand. “Is that really necessary?”
The doctor nods. “Hospital policy. It’s just to the parking lot.”
I shrug and sit in the green canvas. The cold metal arms send a chill through the white fabric of my blouse. Satisfied, the nurse and doctor make their exit.
Ben offers to push me while my mother pulls the car around. Matt shoulders my messenger bag and stays with me as well.
We stand in the lobby together for a long moment in silence. Both boys keep their gaze to the parking lot. So different, yet so alike these two cousins are. I clear my throat, and they both turn to me in unison. “So am I stuck with you two?”
They both grin at me.
“Yep,” Matt says.
“If you’ll have us,” Ben adds.
And suddenly, my world feels a little bigger, safer than it did before.
“STILL FOLLOWING ME, CHIRA?”
The sound of his voice sends a shiver through my spine in the warm sunshine. “You said my name.”
He stands next to the green chain link fence and laughs. “So?”
Heat fills my cheeks. Why do I always have to say the first thing that comes into my head? Apparently he didn’t notice. “Um…you were…calling me Sniffles.”
A hint of a smile tugs his lip, and he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Well, you haven’t had that head cold for a few days now, you know?”
I breathe freely for a moment. I hadn’t realized it, but he’s right. For the past few days I’d been so busy…
“What are you doing at school anyway? I thought your mom wanted you to take a few days off,” he says.
I step up to the chain link and look out over the school grounds. The smoldering wreckage that was once the Old Schoolhouse sits in a blackened pile to the west. Yellow tape still surrounds the building. I suppress a shudder and grip the links of the fence until my knuckles turn white. I squeeze my eyes shut against the painful memories. After a deep breath, I say, “I snuck out of the house when my mom went to bed.”
The chain links rattle, causing me to open my eyes. Steve lands on the fence just over my head, his yellow-orange eyes studying me for a moment. The knowing look he gives me makes me smile. How much wisdom does an owl really have?
Ben stands beside me and looks out the same direction my eyes are drawn.
“What do you see out there?” I ask.
His gaze catches mine for a moment, and I’m surprised by the intensity. He’s biting his lip and his square jaw works as he thinks. Finally, he looks back toward the Old Schoolhouse. “Ten lives were taken in that place over the past year. I can see them…their impressions linger.”
“Wait. I thought only six girls were missing.” My chest tightens and prickles of fear run up and down my skin.
He nods. “Those were the ones the police knew of. The first ones were probably considered runaways or maybe girls forced into prostitution. This world is a darker place than most people realize.”
My gaze shifts back to him and I study the side of his face. His eyebrows are lifted and half-hidden under the loose curls covering his brow. Sadness fills his eyes and softens the features of his face. I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Could you see them the whole time?”
His eyes are fixed ahead, and his expression doesn’t change as he nods once.
The tortured look that he wears all the time isn’t an act. How could anyone live with what he sees? “How were Donnie and Jacob haunted? Did the girls haunt them?”
He shakes his head and looks down at his hands. “They weren’t haunted. Mr. Scott saw the video. He probably panicked and wanted to keep people away from the schoolhouse by starting the rumor of the curse.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. Donnie and Jacob said that there were noises in their houses.”
“He was following you.” His eyes meet mine, wide and pleading.
A jolt of electricity runs through my chest. “What?”
“That day we went to your mom’s diner. It was Mr. Scott who was following you. Steve showed him to me.”
I can hardly breathe. “You knew it was him?”
Ben nods again, his eyes searching mine.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Or the police…or something? We should have stopped him.”
His gaze turns hard, and he’s looking at the asphalt floor of the roof, but not seeing it. “Mr. Scott is a monster but also a coward. His kind preys upon the weak and helpless. He wouldn’t come near you unless you were alone, and you were never alone except when you were walking to and from school. I just had to make sure you weren’t alone then, either.”
“But what about Donnie and Jacob? They weren’t weak or helpless.”
Ben’s eyes rise back up to mine again. “Do you really want to understand what I see?”
I nod, though my stomach churns with fear.
He looks back toward Steve again. The bird’s position hasn’t changed, but his eyes are half lidded.
Ben lets out a heavy sigh. “I told you once that I could see both impressions and possessions. Much of the ugliness in this world is caused by the second kind. And Mr. Scott has allowed a demon to latch on to him.”
Gooseflesh raises on my arms. “A demon?”
“Yes. And I’m certain the demon is what caused those things at Donnie’s and Jacob’s.”
It takes me a minute to process this. “So you knew? You knew all of this and did nothing about it?”
His eyes meet mine, and they are full of regret, sadness, and unshed tears. He shakes his head, and his voice cracks. “Chira. I didn’t—I couldn’t know. I am only one person who has this…gift. This curse. And it’s an ability no one understands, no one believes. I used to tell people everything. Brother Francisco understood. He believed. But living with my relatives over the last seven years has taught me that if I tell someone too much…they lose their trust in me, they accuse me of lying or worse, being crazy. I just couldn’t move forward until I had proof. Solid evidence—tangible to everyone and not just me. I’m so sorry.”
The chain links rattle in response to the distress in Ben’s voice, because Steve has shifted his position closer to his owner.
“You said Steve showed him to you. Can you communicate with animals, too?”
Ben studies me again. A tear has made a trail from his eye to his chin, and he brushes it off with his shoulder. “Not any more than anyone with a pet can. Steve’s just very observant and opinionated. I understand him just because I’ve lived with him for so long.”
I nod.
“You believe me,” he says it like it’s a fact, not a question.
I look into his eyes again, a smile tugging at my lip. He knows it’s true before I’m even sure, but he’s right. I do believe him. I nod.
He steps closer and cups my face in his hands. Before I can register it, he ducks his head in and his lips meet mine. Soft and gentle at first, tentative. My hands run up his back and fist into the back of his shirt. He kisses me harder and more desperately in response. Warm and soft, with a hint of mustard and coffee.
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch block.
He pulls his lips away but rests his forehead to mine. For a moment we just hold each other and breathe. His eyes are closed, but mine are open. The softness in his features takes control and he looks at peace for the first time ever.
A determination takes hold of me. I want him to stay that way. At peace. And I’ll do what I can to help him stay there. For now, it might be believing in him, understanding him as much as I can. I’ll do that, for him. I don’t know if this is love I feel, but it’s time for me to stop running away from it.
Love at first sight might be fiction, but most fiction has a grain of truth in it, right?
The Shadow Maven series has been mulling in my head for over a decade, but only just started to take shape this year, and when my fingers
started moving across the keyboard, they didn’t want to stop.
I’m hoping to have another story in the series ready for you later in 2014!
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It takes a village to write a book and prepare it for publication, and without my awesome beta readers, critiquers and editors, this story would be a hot mess. So special thanks to Missy Lee, Cindy Emmet Smith, and Eva Dayton King for your tireless efforts as my first readers. Thanks to Kessie Carroll and Jennette Mbewe for the depths of your critiques. And thanks to Laura Martinez and Sheila Hollinghead for giving the story one last look to make sure I put my best foot forward. And finally thanks to my awesome street team, The Raven Claw ~ whose encouragement helps me stay motivated, and specifically to Cianna Elizabeth, who gave Tasha a little more personality.
This book is for my son and husband, thank you for your tireless support.