Songbird (A Sinclair Story #1)

by Jaymin Eve

  “I’ll shower Jewel with me,” Melodee said, as Candice shuffled her into the massive bathroom and shut the door.

  Ten minutes later, dressed in towels and bathrobes, Melodee exited to find the room filled with people. Before she could say anything, Candice was rushing forward, taking Jewel and shoving Melodee toward a short, dark skinned man.

  “This is Marco, he’ll be your hairdresser today.” Candice smiled.

  “Gorgeous,” Marco declared. “Ahh, make my job so much easier.” He had a heavy Italian accent as he continued to chatter and led her toward a chair and mirror that had clearly been set up just for this. A woman followed, but she was very quiet as she shuffled around.

  After a while Melodee simply closed her eyes. She started to meditate, anything to stop herself from mentally freaking out. There were too many people in the room and too many people touching her, but she could do this for Nathan. She pictured his face and that helped to calm her. Her phone, which had been sitting in her clenched hand, vibrated and rang. Without opening her eyes she slid the call accept.

  “Are you okay, baby?” Nathan’s voice washed over her, increasing her inner calm.

  “Of course, I’m being all prettied up for you,” she said, a smile crossing her face for the first time since she left the bathroom.

  “And hating every second I’ll bet. Tell them to hurry up, you don’t need to be any more beautiful, and I’m sure it feels like torture.”

  Melodee laughed. “Nah, this is nothing. I love you,” she said as she went to hang up the phone.

  “And I you,” he replied. “You’re my life, my songbird.”

  The tone sounded in her ear and her heart fluttered in her chest as joy flooded her. She opened her eyes then, finally able to deal with the situation. She froze as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. They must have finished while she was on the phone, and she looked so different.

  Candice had a few tears in her eyes. “You look stunning. Nathan’s going to cry. I better get my camera ready.”

  Melodee stood slowly, moving back a little to see the full picture. Her hair shone, like black silk, curled and pinned up in loose ringlets. Her makeup was flawless, her skin perfect ivory, her eyes huge, and the sapphire color was deep enough to almost look like a midnight purple.

  Candice had her hands clasped together. “Let’s get you in your dress.”

  Melodee looked around for her daughter. “Where’s Jewel?”

  “She’s having a little nap.” Candice had her tucked into a padded, woven basket. “This was Nathan’s daybed when he was a baby. He asked me to bring it up for Jewel.”

  Melodee loved how thoughtful Nathan could be.

  It took two of them to get her into the many buttons and laces of the dress. It fit her perfectly, and if she wore heels it wouldn’t even be too long.

  “Lucky she had a decent selection of dresses for petite women,” Candice said.

  Candice was a lot taller than Melodee, towering over her as she finished the buttons. Melodee hadn’t noticed at first, but there were two men discreetly taking photos of everything that was happening. She almost protested, hating the way this violated her privacy, but she knew they were just there to capture this moment. And that was something she wanted to keep.

  “Alright, shoes now.”

  Melodee slipped her feet into very comfortable and padded heels. Despite the fact they had three inch heels, she knew immediately she’d have no problem walking in them.

  Jewel cried out, having awoken hungry for her bottle. Once she was fed and changed, it was time to slip the champagne silk dress, with flowers and a bow on the back, over her tiny head. Melodee felt a few tears prick her eyes at how beautiful Jewel looked. She lowered her head and rested it against the silken black curls. A few flashes went off, which she ignored. The last touch was a lace headband slipped onto Jewel’s head.

  “It’s time, Dee.” Candice appeared from the other doorway and she was now dressed in a stunning floor length black dress. The color dramatically set off her hair and skin tone.

  “You look beautiful. Are you a bridesmaid?” Melodee asked, having not even given a thought to a bridal party.

  Candice laughed. “Nathan said this day was about you, him and Jewel. He figured you wouldn’t want anyone else.”

  Melodee smiled at how well Nathan knew her. “For the record, I would have loved having you as a bridesmaid.”

  The room emptied then and Melodee took a deep breath, knowing that this was the moment. She was about to marry Nathan, she was about to find her home for the first time ever. A place to belong.

  “Let’s do this,” she said, dragging Candice from the room.

  They traveled down the stairs and Candice led her through the house, which was massive and gorgeous, open-plan, in colors of the sea. It looked exactly how Melodee had pictured a rich person’s beach house. They stopped before a large, ornately detailed set of double doors.

  “This is where I leave you.” Candice hugged her and Jewel, before turning and opening a side door and disappearing.

  Taking a deep breath, Melodee shifted Jewel in her arms. She didn’t have a bouquet; she would carry her daughter down the aisle. At no point in her life did she believe she would trust anyone enough to tie her life to them. But she wasn’t even nervous. On the other side of this door was Nathan, and Melodee couldn’t wait to get to him. Of course, she had to make it down the aisle and past all the curious faces, but she could do it for Nathan. She reached out and with no doubts placed a hand on the door. It swung in without a sound. She took a moment to stare at the stunning scene before her. The path beyond the doorway was lined with flower petals and huge lanterns which led her up to the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea. It was late afternoon here and the sun was starting to set in spectacular fashion across the sky. She stepped cautiously, but the wider heel gave her no trouble as she started toward the chairs and arched flower display she could see in the distance. And most importantly toward Nathan.

  Suddenly she stopped short as she realized he was standing in the center of the path in front of her. Dressed in a black suit, it was not quite a tuxedo, but one of those fashionable in-between styles. He looked more handsome than she had ever seen him, the lanterns burning with the sunset and the wind tousling his blond hair. His aqua eyes were sparkling as he captured her gaze, and then they darkened as they took her in.

  The sight of Melodee in a stunning wedding dress walking along the path, carrying his beautiful daughter, almost dropped Nathan to his knees. She was breathtaking, the dress showcasing every one of her curves, her huge blue eyes warm as he drowned in their depths. Nathan knew he would have crawled over broken glass to get to her. He hadn’t even realized how empty and narrow his world had been. These two people were the ones to give his life meaning, and not only would he fight anyone to keep them, he would start a war and raze the world to the ground if it meant they were safe and happy.

  “What are you doing here?” Melodee said as they stood across from each other, her voice breathy. “Aren’t you supposed to be waiting at the end for me?”

  Nathan shook his head. “That’s not how we work, Melodee Lee. You’ve been alone for far too long. No longer will you take a single step of our journey without me by your side.”

  He captured her face in his hand, before pressing a single, sweet kiss to her lips. Melodee fought back her tears, lest they ruin her makeup. Nathan took Jewel from her, and with his free hand he reached out and laced his fingers with hers.

  “I’m sorry your sister couldn’t be here for this.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “I would love for you to have family here also.”

  She shook her head. “My family is here. I might try again with Chloe one day. I can’t seem to completely wipe her from my mind, but right now there’s nothing and no one else I need beside you and Jewel.”

  Nathan could see that she meant every word, that she was happy. And there was nothing more satisfying to him than her joy.

/>   “Ready, Mrs. Sinclair?” he said.

  Melodee laughed. “You Sinclairs, always so impatient. I’m not your wife yet.”

  “In every way that matters you are my wife.” Nathan reached out and pushed a curl off her face. “I don’t need a piece of paper to confirm that.”

  Melodee stood on her toes so she could kiss the man who had given her everything: a life, a home and her beautiful daughter.

  “Well, let’s do this,” she said as they pulled a part. “Together. As a team.”

  And then the three of them walked toward family and friends, the sunset at their back and the ocean beyond them. A pretty damned good sign of the life to come.

  ***

  Please, if you loved this book, could you do me a huge favor and post a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Reviews are so valuable to independent authors and I’d appreciate your feedback. – Jaymin J

  http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jaymin-Eve/519939168016600

  Or email jaymineve@gmail.com

  About the Author

  Jaymin Eve is a twenty-nine-year-old with the best job in the world. When she’s not being a mother to two beautiful girls, you’ll find her hammering away at her computer lost in her fantasy worlds, or traveling to far-off places for family fun and exploration.

  She’d love to hear from you, so find her at

  http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jaymin-Eve/519939168016600

  Or email jaymineve@gmail.com

  Check out Jaymin Eve’s Young Adult Paranormal Romance Series.

  First World – A Walker Saga

  http://amzn.com/B00E1G1U7G

  Chapter 1

  I glanced over my shoulder at the approaching darkness. Move your butt, Abby, you’re almost safe.

  Safe. I’m fooling myself but I need the pep talk. It should surprise me that this is happening again, but unfortunately it doesn’t. Lately it’s become a regular part of my daily routine. Get up, go to class, escape the compound and get chased by Gangers all afternoon ... sure, just standard stuff. I really need to find someone with a normal life, kill them and take their identity. I’m kidding, of course. In my seventeen years, I’m yet to meet anyone with a normal life.

  I ran across the road. Where had the footsteps that had been echoing my own hurried pace for the past twenty minutes disappeared to? I found it unsettling that the only noise to break the silence was my own shallow breathing.

  Hesitating, I scanned the area. The street was empty. Shadowy and unnaturally silent. I looked again in the last rays of the setting sun. Shattered shop windows – junk piles – were the norm. Courtesy of the current world crisis. But the gang of tattoo-faced thugs that struck such fear in me when they attacked in Central Park were thankfully missing. Four on one hadn’t been the best odds, but I’d managed to shake them off and almost ... almost I was back at the compound.

  Fidgeting a little, I stifled a cry of pain. Lifting my raggedy sweater, I breathed in. I hadn’t escaped entirely undamaged. In the still-fading light I could just make out the dark bruises shadowing my ribs. Purple already? That was going to be a pretty sight by morning. A rodent scuttled by – but that wasn’t causing the tenseness that filtered into each of my muscles. I couldn’t see the source – or hear it – but I could feel it. I wasn’t alone. Pulling down my thin top, ignoring the pain, I tried to determine where the ambush was coming from.

  It’s an understatement to say I’m not patient. I acknowledged that. I was ready for lunch the moment I finished breakfast, although, I thought wryly, that might have more to do with a love of food rather than impatience. So action of any kind was my preference and I’ve always worked on the theory that in dangerous situations there was little point sitting around waiting for the axe to fall. A theory expertly formed through my formative years, which were spent watching pirated old-school horror movies. Ah, yes, the loss of television was one of the things I’ve long mourned since the fall of New York. Funny, considering how many other things we had lost, but escapism was harder to come by now.

  So back to my current predicament. My instincts were urging me to stop running and get off the street. Avoid the Gangers until they moved on to some other nefarious business – which preferably wouldn’t involve me. I was banking on their notoriously short attention spans. Making a split-second decision, I ducked into the nearby alley.

  Almost no light penetrated this far off the main road. And even with excellent night vision I crept cautiously. The dusky light barely highlighted the alley. It was short and dirty, with just a few rusted-out dumpsters scattered close to a brick wall dead-end.

  Bad idea, Abby. Retreat. Retreat.

  My instincts don’t usually let me down, but the danger on the street was preferable to being caught in a dead-end alley. Bad horror movie script.

  I turned to leave, but only took two steps before the faint sounds of feet scuffing the footpath halted my escape. My heart skipped a beat.

  Great.

  I was about to become that idiot heroine, you know the one: stupid, stacked, blond and dead. The film industry doesn’t exist anymore, but I had watched enough old movies to know the general plotline. Considering I was neither stacked nor blond, I might pass on that career choice today.

  I moved further into the shadows. There were exactly two suitable dumpsters. The rusty faded red, which was emitting suspicious rat noises; or the other, a delightful brown color, which, judging by the smell, was home to at least two dead bodies.

  Moving faster, I flipped a mental coin before sliding in behind the red one. There was just enough space to hide. Leaning back against the wall, I ignored the rustling and forced my tense muscles to relax.

  I tried to contain the flood of unpleasant memories. It’s as if the moment I sit still all the negative crap piles in on me. It still amazes me that people of the early 21st century thought Earth of the future was going to be awesome. By the year 2020 we would have flying cars, talking dogs and somehow live in houses suspended in the sky. The reality – it’s 2035 and we live in a dead zone.

  Technology and communication systems – gone.

  Malls – gone.

  Schools and sports – gone.

  Fossil fuels and transport systems they powered. Sigh. Gone, too.

  Yep, pretty depressing.

  We existed in a chaotic cycle of militia, gangs and destruction. The Brutal Gangers – currently chasing me – were one of the many gangs fighting for survival and power. All striving to dominate control of food sources, drugs, human trafficking, and, of course, the ever prevalent battle for more territory.

  It was during my lifetime that the rebels tried to regroup, to take society back. But the militia and gangs had a strong hold. They controlled the majority of weapons, food and the only communications system left – archaic two-wave radio. We were the rebels. We had less numbers and no choice but to barricade ourselves into compounds, only leaving when necessary.

  Kicking back against the dumpster, I thought briefly of raiding it for food. There wasn’t much point. I hadn’t found anything remotely edible for months, but we were dangerously low on supplies. We barely survived, but we were good at biding our time and being smarter. Smarter – sitting in various types of gunk on the freezing ground, waiting to be beat down by some thug – yep, smarter.

  It was about time I initiated a safer escape from the monotony of the compound. Next time I felt a need to jog, I’d just stay home. Strike that, I’d just stay in bed. This wasn’t my first experience with the Brutal Gangers and probably wouldn’t be my last. I hoped my luck wasn’t due to run out anytime soon.

  It was pitch black in the alley now and my legs were almost asleep. I’d exhausted enough patience and spent way too long brooding. Time to make a break for it.

  Easing myself free, I brushed down my jeans, dispelling the dust and the other disgusting items I’d been sitting in. It was a small comfort that the darkness hid the ground. Shuffling along the alley, I headed toward the street front, discernible in the faint spectre o
f light cast by one of the few working street lamps.

  I paused at the end of the alley and focused. A secret to my survival was ‘trust your instincts and use common sense’.

  Yeah, it wasn’t much of a secret, but common sense – whew, hard to come by. Lucy always told me she’d come running with me when I was at the survivalist level of Bear Grylls. On a scale of one to Bear Grylls, I wasn’t even close. I missed television. No new shows had been made past 2015, but I’d always enjoyed the oldies. No more, though. Our television unit now housed mice and quite a few cockroaches.

  I waited patiently, absorbing the silence. It was a good sign, time to make a run for home. Easing around the side of the alley, I breathed deeply. No time to hesitate. I took the first step, pushing off hard from the ground. But, before I even landed, my right arm was jerked roughly, flinging me to the side. The pressure didn’t ease. Shi... I’d been caught. Twice in one day was a record, even for me.

  A large masculine hand was wrapped tightly around my arm, long fingers overlapping on my bicep.

  I had seconds to escape.

  He was alone now, but that wouldn’t last long.

  Going limp, I slumped against him.

  He grunted at the unexpected force of a hundred and thirty pounds of dead weight, and his grip eased slightly. Using my leg muscles for leverage, I wrenched myself backwards, landing in the alley. Pain exploded through my body as I hit the ground hard, but I had some space. Brushing my long hair from my eyes, I scuttled down the alley. Distance was the key to my fighting style. I’m too light and weak to have much chance if they get their hands on me, but I am fast.

  The shadowed figure had not moved from the alley entrance.

  Upon reaching the end of the path, I stood carefully, the brick wall anchoring my back. My escape had been too easy; there was definitely an ambush coming. I needed to take him on while he remained unaided. That was my only chance. My much abused muscles ached in protest and I was grateful for the amazing power of adrenalin.