Depression threatened to claim her and she lay still, fighting back the tears. Mornings overwhelmed her with the sudden remembrance of what had become of her life. Some days it was the loss of her parents that crushed her soul and stole the joy from existence. Other mornings, it was what had happened to her and the fear that she could not cope. The fear that she could not manage another day with people looking down at her and the fear that everything she loved was gone, leaving her with nothing she could do to change it.
No, she would not give into this, could not give in. With a heavy sigh, she threw back the covers and grabbed hold of the bed. Pulling with her arms, she levered her legs over the edge and let them dangle down. Flicking back her long brown hair, she grabbed hold of her wheelchair and hauled it into position. Locking on the brakes, she pushed down on her arms and swung herself over, transferring into the chair. Now it was a quick journey to the bathroom.
At first, being paralyzed below the waist and living in a wheelchair had left Deb in constant frustration, but in time her arms had gained strength and most things she was able to do with ease. Outwardly, she put on a happy face hiding how much this had dashed her dreams, suppressing her depression even from her closest friends.
“Deborah, breakfast’s ready,” Uncle Mace Coltrane, the head of the Coltrane Herald, shouted from the kitchen.
“Coming,” she called and wheeled herself to the lift.
In the kitchen, Brett gave her a sour look that turned into a smile as he grabbed some toast and headed for the door. This was his first month at university and she was still amazed that her young brother had grown up so quickly. His unruly mop of brown hair flopped over his eyes, making him look young and vulnerable. He would break hearts, of that she was sure.
“Sorry,” she mouthed.
He reached down and kissed her cheek before grabbing his tatty old rucksack and heading for the door.
“Here you go, dear.” Mace gave her a plate of eggs and bacon and Deb’s stomach turned. Whenever she had the nightmares, she couldn’t face food for at least a few hours and as they were getting more and more frequent, she was losing weight. Luckily being in the chair, no one noticed.
Mace sat down and tucked into his own breakfast. He ate what he called a Paleolithic diet, mainly meat, and vegetables. There had been no dairy, bread or pasta in the house when they arrived, but he allowed them to eat what they wanted while encouraging them to eat his way. Deb had been surprised how much she enjoyed the meat as she was practically a vegetarian before the accident. Pushing the food around her plate, she waited for Mace to finish.
“I have a super job for you today,” he said.
There was a glint in his eye and a smile on his face, but Deb felt cold, he never let her do any real work. Behind him, a reporter on TV was showing the faces of two college students. Across the bottom, she saw the words, ‘Two young victims Dean Thorsby and Shelby Jackson were found murdered near the club Heaven. Both believed to be victims of The Slasher.’ It was the case she was working on before everything went to hell and Deb felt a clench of excitement in her gut.
Mace handed her a folder. “Now I have to run, dear. Have a lovely day and see you later.”
With a quick kiss on her cheek, he was gone and Deb opened the file. Anger burst through her -- was this a joke? As her fury left, despondency replaced it and once again tears pricked the back of her eyes but she fought them down and threw her plate on the floor.
***
Perched in the branches of an old oak tree across the road from Deb’s kitchen was Vincent Fox. With brooding good looks, he was the man who haunted her dreams. He had been watching her, wondering about her and what he must do since she recovered from the accident. Despite the nights he spent in this tree and the days he followed her from his car, he didn’t consider himself a stalker. This was necessary. He needed to know if she was the prophesized.
It was a cloudy day but not cold and yet he wore heavy jeans, a long sleeved shirt with a high neck, gloves, a hat and sunglasses. Even with his eyes covered, the light was still uncomfortable but he endured it. He must watch her. It was something he had been doing since that night two years ago when he had broken one of his most profound rules. Yet something had gone wrong. Deb’s life had been saved, but she had not recovered as he would have expected. She had been left paralyzed. So far there had been no evidence that she was anything but a disabled girl but still he felt drawn to her, to observe her. Luckily no one else had shown any interest, but he knew that could change and if it did, he would be here.
The tree gave him a good view of her bedroom and the kitchen along with the whole south side of the house. Vincent spent many nights sitting in complete stillness watching and waiting for something to happen. The problem was he didn’t know what he expected. Still each night when he thought about giving this a miss, he was drawn back. There was movement and his eyes were pulled back to the kitchen. Deb was magnificent, young and vital despite her problems. With striking gray eyes, high cheek bones and luscious long caramel colored hair, she looked young for her twenty years and showed a vulnerability that drew him like a magnet. Many nights he had asked himself if his obsession was due to a physical attraction. No, he would not risk so much for so little. The draw he felt was more than mere chemistry; there was something very special about Deborah Marshall.
She had been through so much and he had followed her recovery with trepidation. It had been difficult for her to come to terms with her loss and he had feared she may hurt herself. If she tried, he would have to intervene and sometimes he wondered if he should have done so. If he took away her pain, would her life be better?
Deb wheeled herself across the kitchen and moved out of view of the window. This didn’t matter, Vincent merely concentrated and he could see the heat of her body as she moved about through the house walls. She would be leaving soon and he would follow. His car was parked in the next street and it would be more comfortable for him from behind its tinted windows.
***
Deb wheeled herself out to the drive. Her brown hair was fastened back into a high ponytail and it bounced as she wheeled down the small steps toward the cherry red Dodge. At first, the car had seemed huge but it was easy to drive and with a wheelchair lift it meant getting in and out was both quick and painless. She pressed her remote, the twin doors opened and the lift slid out. Now all she had to do was roll onto it and the rest was just a matter of pushing buttons. Once in the car, a mechanism locked her chair in place and the hand controls meant that driving was effortless. Throwing the folder onto the back seat, she fought down her anger and humiliation, turned out of the drive and headed toward Nova’s house.
Every Friday morning she met with Nova and Summer, her two best friends. Even though she looked forward to the meeting, she hated that they always wanted to know how she was. Sometimes she wanted to hide, to drop out of sight and ignore the pity that her friends fostered on her. If they had treated her normally, it would be easier to forget but each time she had to pretend, it reminded her that her parents were gone forever and that she missed them terribly. Tears pricked her eyes and she rubbed them away, it would not do for the girls to think she was crying.
Letting out a sigh, she plastered a smile on her face and pulled the car over to the curb. At five foot six, Nova was two inches shorter than Deb, yet now she seemed like a giant who towered over her. Nova’s shoulder length blonde hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail that made her look plain. Yet Deb knew with a touch of make-up Nova had a fresh look that many would envy. With busy plaid trousers and a kaleidoscope top her friend showed that she was much more comfortable with computers than fashion but her smile was genuine.
“Morning,” she said as she jumped into the car. “How was your weekend?”
“It was good, Mace took me shopping.”
“You lucky thing. I’ve had a terrible time, my Dad’s...”
“Can you believe what Mace wants me to do today?” Deb’s voice sliced through the c
onversation like a laser and she missed the hurt in Nova’s eyes. “Part of me wonders if it’s some kind of sick joke.”
“Hey, at least you have a job, my dad may have...”
“How can he do this to me? After all I’ve been through you would think he would give me better jobs than this.”
“Deb, listen to yourself... He’s the boss and he gave you a chance. You should be grateful. Believe me you have it a lot easier than some.”
Deb pulled the car into the parking lot at the Rookby Grill and dropped her eyes. Why was Nova being so mean? “Say’s the girl who’s at college, something I really wanted to do.”
“Yes you did, to become a journalist... which now you are. Some of us have to find tuition fees and that is not easy.”
Deb turned to her friend, it had never occurred to her that Nova was struggling, but there was a note of desperation in her voice and a sadness in her eyes. Something was wrong. “I’m sorry. You were saying about your dad?”
“It’s nothing," Nova said. "Let’s get some coffee and see what Summer’s been up to.”
The Rookby Grill was always busy on Friday mornings. It buzzed with the anticipation of the weekend as happy people swarmed in and out discussing the break ahead. Summer sat at a red booth by the window, yet she dominated the room. With long black hair, ebony skin and a movie star smile, she was the center of attention. She flashed them with her huge almond eyes and ran across the room almost shrieking with delight.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, give me a hug.” Summer bent over and hugged Deb’s shoulders.
“How is she?” she asked Nova.
“I’m down here and I can answer,” Deb said but it was good to see her friend. Summer had been on holiday for two weeks and she had missed her.
Taking hold of the chair, Summer wheeled Deb over to the table and sat down. “There you can look across and see Luke,” she said.
Deb fought down a groan. Luke was her ex. They had been pretty hot until the accident, but Deb had pushed him away. The last thing she wanted was a man taking pity on the paralyzed girl and it seemed easier to drive him away than to have him dump her. As she glanced across at his blond curly hair and strong features, she realized she felt nothing anymore. Luke had been a good friend and he was a favorite of all the girls but now he left her cold. Noticing her gaze, he turned his chair around so that he would not have to look at her.
The snub was deserved but still Deb felt hurt and when she turned back to the table her two friends were smiling.
“Don’t take any notice of the Mr. Hard Guy act,” Summer said. “He’s weeping like a baby because you dumped him.”
“Can we talk about something else?” Deb asked. The last thing she needed right now were men troubles and besides she was paralyzed from the waist down. What use was she to Luke?
“Yes we can,” Summer said and she patted Deb on the leg. “My holiday was fab and I’ve been thinking.”
Nova and Deb groaned, the only person Summer thought about was Summer.
“Oh no, you are not going to spoil it. We watched the Invictus games while we were away and it was amazing with a capital ‘MAZE’. These people are all disabled, just like you and yet they have a purpose. I think you should get involved.”
“Summer, for God’s sake, shut up,” Nova’s face was angry and there was steel in her voice.
“I’m only trying to help.”
Deb had tuned them out. She knew this was Summer’s way. Although her friend came across as selfish, she had a good heart and hated to see Deb suffering. But none of them realized this was not something that could be fixed. It was something she had to come to terms with and sometimes she was not sure if she was strong enough. Her mind kept telling her there was something more and she knew her dreams were important. If only she could remember what happened. The police had told her that a witness saw a man drag her from the car and that he had saved her life, but he was gone when they arrived. Deb needed to remember him. Was he the man from her dreams? And if he was, how come he started out as her savior and ended as… What had he become? The problem was she didn’t know, couldn’t remember but it left her with a deep cold fear like nothing she had ever experienced.
“Deb, Deb are you alright?” Nova said.
Deb tuned back in to see Nova's hand on her knee. Don’t they realize I can’t feel it? “I’m fine. Did I miss something?” I'm always fine, I'm so sick of being fine.
“No, you just look so pale,” Summer said. “Maybe you need a makeover. How about I come over tonight?”
Once the thought of a girl’s night would have filled Deb with joy, but not now. Right now she needed to work out why her nightmares had come back, so how did she turn Summer down?
The arrival of Nick at their table saved her the problem. Summer forgot Deb and only had eyes for him. He strolled up to the table, his rucksack across his muscular shoulders. “Have you seen the news? Two lads from Uni were cut up by The Slasher.”
Nick Flynn was one of the eligible boys, his family had old money and he looked and acted like a jock. With a killer body and dark brooding looks he could have his pick of the girls, the problem was he was short tempered and none of them stayed with him for long. Summer believed that she was the one who would tame him and it had become a challenge to her. The only problem was, so far, Nick hadn’t noticed.
“Deb are you still looking into this?” Nick asked and all eyes turned to her.
“I err, well I err, have another assignment now.” Deb blushed under his intense gaze. Why did they have to bring this up when her stupid uncle had her on another slush story?
“That’s crap,” Nick said. “So far the cops have done diddle, maybe you could solve this. You know like you did with that guy selling drugs to the juniors.”
Deb lowered her head, but this time as the heat hit her cheeks, she knew it was from pride. She had been good and with her evidence, the police were able to make an arrest and the school had become a much safer place. Maybe she should get out her file and look into The Slasher case again? There was no need for Mace to know, she could do it on her own time. Who was she kidding, who ever heard of an investigator in a wheelchair?
“So,” Summer said, “on to more important topics, who’s going to the party tonight?”
Deb dropped her head again and watched as Summer focused her big brown ones on Nick. It was quite funny to watch him totally miss the hint, but Summer was unabashed. “Nick maybe you could pick me up? My car’s in the shop.”
“Well, I suppose,” he said. “Now, got to run, coach wants me on the field early.”
Summer giggled. “You two have got to come,” she said.
Deb and Nova shared a grimace and Deb groaned internally. How could she avoid a party thrown by her uncle at the house she was staying at? She used to love parties, she loved to dance but now she felt left out as most of the action took place above her head. Nova also looked glum; she had never really liked parties feeling much more at home with her computers and her books.
“I’ll go if you promise not to hide in your room all night,” Nova said.
Deb wanted Nova to go, it would do her good to get her head out of her books and have some fun. The problem was she really didn’t think she could face it. “I don’t know. I’ve nothing to wear.” The words were meant to be sarcastic and Nova winked she understood the joke, but the minute she had said it Deb knew it was a mistake.
“Ohh great,” Summer said. “We can go shopping, just us girls. How about I pick you up later?”
“I was joking,” Deb said and immediately regretted it as she saw the look of hurt on Summer’s face. “Alright, I’ll go. Let’s all meet up there around seven. I have to go now; Uncle Mace has an assignment for me.” Deb wheeled away from the table before she could see the looks. She knew her friends realized what crap jobs she was getting and was not sure if they pitied her or if they thought it was all she could manage.
Chapter Four
As Deb whe
eled herself out onto the street, she had no idea that two men watched her. A sleek black Mercedes with tinted windows lay in wait down a side street. From inside the car, Vincent had the perfect view of the grill and if he concentrated hard enough, he could hear the conversations inside. It had taken a while to pick out her voice, but he knew it well and was able to understand what was going on. The girl felt lost and wondered if she could regain her old glory by catching this killer. Sitting in the quiet car, he wondered whether he should help?
Vincent sniffed the air; there was another predator in the area. Their scent occasionally wafted toward him on the breeze and it hadn’t taken him long to spot the man. Now, there was someone he hadn’t seen in a long time. Alix Sakharov was younger than Vincent and not as skilled. He stood down a side alley and kept to the shadows. With his long coat, glasses and hat he looked comical but it didn’t deter from the fact that underneath it all, he was still dashing. Seeing him caused a growl to form in Vincent’s throat. If the man was here for Deb, then he would have to die. The problem with Alix was that his loyalties were often hard to figure. Vincent contemplated tearing across the road and ripping out his heart, but decided it would be best to wait and find out why he was here.
***
Deb sat at the curb knowing she should go into work but dreading doing so. Across from her perched on a post was a rook. It turned its head and seemed to stare right through her with one inky black eye and Deb shivered. The bird watched her, following her. Even in her dreams, it haunted her and here it was again. She shook her head thinking how ridiculous she was being.
She sat there trying not to look at the rook. All she had to do was cross the street and she was at the paper. The problem was, what was the point? The appointment to interview the dog and owner were not until later and everyone at the paper treated her like the poor, little wounded boss’s daughter. It was a dull day and she sat at the side of the road reminiscing about a better time and all the dreams she had lost. Maybe she should look into The Slasher case; get out her file and see what she could dig up. Of course, she didn’t need the file, it all led back to James Markoff, the owner of Markoff mines and someone the police daren’t touch, but she could. Don’t be stupid, it could be dangerous and you’re not as fast on your feet anymore. A laugh escaped her just as she saw Brett come out of the electrical store.
Greenwood: Paranormal Vampire Romance (The Darker Side of Deb Book 1) Page 2