Paranormal Magic (Shades of Prey Book 1)

by Margo Bond Collins

  He had to find a way to get back in his father’s good graces. This world was for the birds.

  ***

  FayeLynn drove around town until her gas gauge sank beneath a quarter of a tank. She had to go home sometime, but she was hoping she could drag her feet until her dad was asleep. She had no idea how she was going to tell him about the baby or the fact that the baby’s father had been a blip on the radar, a one-nighter, only a hazy, beer-fuzzy memory.

  She’d just turned twenty-one and she and her friends had gone to DragonFly, the newest microbrewery in a town filled with them.

  You only turn twenty-one once, she’d told herself.

  She hadn’t eaten all day and the beer went to her head way too fast. When he’d tapped her on the shoulder, she’d jumped. She’d been so into the music she’d forgotten everything else in the room.

  And then there was him. Nothing but him.

  Tall and slender with skin the color of alabaster, eyes the color of icy water and hair so black, it shone like onyx, he was the most compelling man she’d ever seen.

  There was no one else in the room, or even in the world for that matter, save the two of them.

  She didn’t even know his name, couldn’t remember it. Only that it began with a “D” and that he had one blue eye and one brown one.

  Before she’d realized what was happening, they were kissing and then more. Pulling and tugging at clothes, pressing against each other as if the fate of the world depended on the connection pulsing between them. They’d ended up in his hotel room, a posh loft with down duvets and chocolates on the pillow. Knocking the chocolates aside, they’d fallen onto the bed, a tangle of limbs, their lips never separating.

  It was the most intense experience she’d ever had, even though she’d known before, during and after, that it was nothing more than that: an experience. One night.

  And now she was going to have his baby.

  When she pulled into the driveway of the house she and her dad shared, she was relieved to see that the only the porch light was burning. Her relief lasted less than three minutes. As soon as she walked through the front door, she smelled cigarettes. Her dad only smoked when he was extremely stressed or missing her mother.

  He was about to get more stressed.

  “Work late?” Her father was sitting at the kitchen table. Backlighted by beams of street lamp streaming through the kitchen window, he was alone in the dark.

  “Missing Mom?”

  The word carried no emotional connection for her, at least it hadn’t until she’d seen those bright pink lines in the bathroom. Her feelings were all over the map, and she didn’t know how she was going to hide the emotional roller coaster ride she was on from her dad.

  He pulled a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit it. The tip glowed as he took his first drag. “We met twenty-five years ago today.”

  She eased into a chair across from him and knew better than to ask too many questions. If she did, her dad would shut down. “That’s a long time.”

  “Even longer when I only got to spend three of those years with her and twenty-two of them missing her.”

  This obviously wasn’t the time to tell him about the pregnancy test, the pink lines that foretold the end of her youth, and the worry so heavy it felt like it might crush her lungs.

  “You okay?” He looked up from the table and his eyes met hers. They were red and bloodshot, and it was easy to see he’d been crying. She glanced at the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels beside him and wished she could take a shot or two herself.

  “Want a belt?” her father asked, as if reading her mind. He pushed the bottle toward her.

  She shook her head. “No thanks.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You might as well tell me what’s going on with you. I’m going to find out eventually.”

  “You have enough to worry about, Pops. I’ll figure it out.”

  “Your worries are my worries. Always have been.” He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. “Let me in.”

  She’d never been able to lie to her dad. It had been just the two of them for so long. He read her moods as easily as the picture books he’d read to her when she was a child. She’d have to tell him. Eventually. While she’d rather wait for a better time, he already knew something was wrong, and she didn’t want to add a layer of worry to his already troubled mind.

  “I’m pregnant.” Her voice was just above a whisper.

  His eyes went wide and then he placed the half-smoked Camel in the ashtray and took a deep sip of the whiskey. “Repeat that, please?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh, honey.” He placed his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

  “I’m not.”

  “But?”

  She didn’t know how to answer the question in his watery blue eyes. “It was just a one-time thing. I probably won’t even tell him.”

  He stubbed out the cigarette, now burned down almost to the filter, and lit another one. “You don’t think he’d want to know?”

  FayeLynn shrugged. “I don’t know him well enough to answer that.”

  “How far along are you?”

  “I’m nearly two months late.”

  “Are you going to keep the child?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered. She placed her hand over her belly and for the first time she considered that growing inside her was a small, new and totally complete person. In the bathroom at work, she’d decided that she only had two choices: adoption or abortion. But her father’s question had caught her off guard, and she felt strangely protective.

  “Oh, honey,” he repeated. “There’s so much you don’t know.”

  CHAPTER 2

  The next morning, drawn by the rich aroma of coffee, Alvin walked into the Butterfly Café and pulled two wrinkled one-dollar bills from his front pocket. Not counting the three quarters clinking against each other in the pocket of his jacket, it was the only money he had left.

  He wasn’t likely to earn more today. If the dark gray clouds weren’t enough of a clue, his well-tuned senses told him it was going to rain buckets. He was the only one in the usually crowded café. The tourists must have seen the weather report and decided to sleep late. He would’ve liked to have done the same, but hard dirt didn’t lend itself to a rainy day snooze. Just as he opened the door of the shop, he heard the first rumble of thunder and felt the crack of lightning move through him.

  Stormy weather intensified his abilities and made it very difficult for him to concentrate on reality. Maybe a jolt of caffeine would clear his mind, shake loose the sleep-deprivation cobwebs, and allow him to figure out a way to make enough money for lunch.

  It was foolish to waste his cash on expensive coffee when he could’ve headed two blocks south and gotten a free cup from the soup kitchen but something in the café was drawing him like an iron filing to a magnet.

  As soon as he saw her, he knew.

  It wasn’t the coffee, it was her. She was drawing him closer.

  He’d never seen her before and yet there was something familiar about her.

  Even though the girl behind the counter looked exhausted, she was beautiful. Delicate and petite, she moved with grace. It was deeper than attraction and he wasn’t used to the feeling. The son of a Prince, he’d been spoiled. In his father’s house, he’d always had beautiful women at his disposal, but he’d never seen one who looked like her.

  Her beauty transcended the physical. That was unusual for a human. As a rule, they were quite shallow and self-absorbed.

  Like I haven’t been accused of the same thing.

  She reminded him of a tiny songbird, and if he hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought she was…

  That’s crazy. It’s been too long since you’ve had a decent sleep.

  She’d been crying. A lot. Her eyes were bloodshot and ringed in purple, evidence that she wasn’t sleeping w
ell. Her strawberry blond hair was twisted into a loose ponytail and her clothes were rumpled. She was worried. Really worried. The vibrations of her emotions radiated out in waves and washed over him, jamming all his circuits.

  He needed a dose of caffeine more than ever. “Hey,” he said, leaning against the gleaming stainless counter. “How much is a cup of Breakfast Blend?” Until the past few weeks, he’d never had to worry about the cost of anything. He simply snapped his fingers and the item appeared, regardless of the cost.

  Now, things were different.

  She looked him over, her amber eyes were hawk-like. There was sadness there, deep despair she was trying desperately to hide. “How much can you afford?”

  “I have two bucks.” He handed her the bills. When she reached out to take them, their fingers touched. Her worries slammed into him with the force of a semi. He felt her sadness and despair so acutely, it could have been his own. She jumped backwards at the touch, nearly losing her footing on the black and white tile.

  “But I’m happy to barter,” he said, curious. “In exchange for a cup of coffee, I can tell your fortune.” He crossed his fingers hoping she’d agree. Not only did he want to know more about her, he sensed that she was in trouble.

  She smoothed her apron and tucked one loose curl behind her ear and sighed. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “It might help you make better decisions.”

  She looked at him shrewdly, sizing him up, trying to measure his intentions. After a long pause, she exhaled and stepped back. He must have passed the test. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why the hell not?” She pushed the money back toward him and grabbed a mug from underneath the counter. “I’m FayeLynn. Pick a table and I’ll join you.”

  “Alvin and thanks for the joe.”

  Her smile was radiant and it lit every corner of the room, even on such a gray day, even when something was really bothering her. “I hope you have the winning lottery numbers.”

  He chose a two-topper near the window. It was just past seven and there was no foot traffic on the sidewalk. When she slid into the chair across from him with a mug of her own, he asked, “You won’t get in trouble for sitting on the clock, will you?”

  “Nope. I’ve taken care of all my side work. I doubt we’ll have any takers until later anyway.” She took a sip of her coffee, and he watched the steam float up from the surface and over her face. In the mist, she looked even more like…

  Cut it out, Alvin. She’s an ordinary waitress. Tell her fortune, drink the coffee and be on your way.

  Except it wasn’t that easy. “Can I ask you a very personal question?”

  Without any hesitation, she nodded.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you might be…” His voice trailed off into a whisper before he lost his courage. He noticed the blush that spread across her face and wondered how many secrets she held. “Never mind. Are you ready to get started?”

  “Do you need my birthday or anything?”

  “No. Just close your eyes and try to relax. I’m going to place two fingers on your pulse points.”

  Her eyes widened at his touch. He was glad he wasn’t the only one to feel the rush of electricity that had surged between them earlier.

  “I’m harmless,” he assured her. “Promise.”

  ***

  Anyone who worked downtown for more than a shift or two was used to eccentric. It wouldn’t be Asheville without the psychics, the readers, the street musicians or the drag queens. As a mecca for the misunderstood, she’d seen people of every stripe but something about Alvin was different.

  With her hands in his, she closed her eyes and tried to relax but after a few seconds, she couldn’t help but open them and sneak a peek at the guy. His features were finely drawn, like someone had taken a tiny brush and added incredible detail to every facet of his appearance. Like her, he had fair skin, but his was nearly translucent, pearl-like. His blond hair reminded her of corn silk, fine and glimmering. She felt drawn to him, as if they were parts of the same storm cloud.

  He had an ethereal quality about him. He reminded her of someone but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She closed her eyes tightly. If he truly was a psychic, he’d know she’d been peeking.

  “Close your eyes.”

  Maybe he is the real thing.

  “You’re scared,” he said, breaking the silence a couple of minutes later. “And you’re right to be concerned. He’s powerful, more powerful than you realize.”

  Her eyes bolted open. “Who?”

  “The father of your baby.” His green eyes locked with hers and she saw the concern in them.

  “He’s not in the picture.” She had no idea how to even get in touch with the guy. How in the world would he have any say over her baby?

  “Because he sought you out, intended to conceive a child with you. He wants your baby.”

  “How could you possible know that?” It was outrageous, ridiculous, and it made her angry.

  A boyish grin softened his face. “I’m psychic, remember?”

  It wasn’t the first reading she’d had. Before she’d gotten serious about saving money for art school, she’d often spent her tip money on a tarot reading or a palm reader but this dude was intense. Even though he was smiling, there was an undercurrent, a powerful pulse of energy that flowed between them. “Maybe you are, but I’m telling you, the father of this baby isn’t even a consideration.”

  “I wish that were true. You may think it was only a one-night stand but he has another agenda, a very serious one.”

  She shook her head. “The agenda was clear.”

  “You have no idea what forces you’re dealing with,” he said in a low voice. “He wanted you to get pregnant.”

  “No way. It was just a hookup. The product of hormones and microbrew. Nothing more.” Even though she wasn’t the kind of girl who believed in one-night stands, much less had them, something about the pull she’d felt to the guy that night had been undeniably strong.

  “It’s much more than that. It’s part of a bigger plan.”

  “No way.”

  “With the right partner, you can defeat him but you have to be willing to learn trust.”

  The word ‘trust’ scared her. The only person she trusted completely was her father. How did he know she’d react to that?

  “I don’t even remember his name, and I’m sure he wouldn’t remember mine,” FayeLynn said. She’d give Alvin props on guessing she was pregnant, but maybe it was no more than that: a lucky guess. Now he was beginning to sound like he’d been playing too much Dungeons and Dragons and his versions of reality and fantasy weren’t separated by the tightest fence.

  He squeezed her hand and looked deeply into her eyes. “I suspected it when I saw you, but now I’m sure.”

  “Sure about what?”

  FayeLynn hoped someone would walk in and order coffee and a muffin. A whole busload of tourists would be a Godsend. This reading was getting weird fast and it was beginning to make her uncomfortable. His eyes were so intense. She felt naked in front him, like he could see everything about her clear to the marrow in her bones.

  “You really don’t know?”

  “Nope.” She couldn’t imagine what he meant.

  “You’re carrying a son, and his father isn’t human. Neither are you for that matter.”

  Now they’d crossed from eccentric to flat-out crazy. She jerked her arm free of his. The hair on her neck stood up and a shiver ran from the crown of her head all the way to the tips of her toes. “I appreciate the reading. Enjoy the coffee.” She rose and hooked her fingers around the handle of her mug. “I need to get back to work.”

  “FayeLynn,” he said, rising to stand beside her. “I’m not crazy.”

  “I’ve got work to do.”

  “If you want to protect the baby in your womb from a monster, you should listen to me. Not only is his father dangerous, he’ll do anything to make sure he raises the baby without any interference, including yours.”r />
  She shook her head, unable to move away from Alvin’s gaze. He wasn’t the first nut-job to order a cup of coffee, but he was the most convincing. Something in the way his voice conveyed his concern, his fear, made him seem more credible. “I don’t believe you. I can’t believe you.”

  “Then let’s make a deal: Ask your father about your mother. I’ll meet you back here tomorrow morning. Same time.”

  “He won’t talk about her.” Her mom was the one topic that was off-limits. As a girl, she’d tried to press Pops for more information about her, but as soon as it was mentioned, he shut down. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

  “This time he will. Tell him you met one of The Folk, did him a favor and got a reading in return. Tell him that the baby you’re carrying belongs to The Folk.”

  “He’ll think I’ve lost my mind.”

  “No, he’ll think you’re wise to listen to me.”

  ***

  Alvin left the café feeling better than he had since he’d arrived in Asheville. He walked along the sidewalk, oblivious to the small, misty droplets of rain. The tourists were beginning to wake and stir. Wearing rain jackets and rubber boots, they were slowly trickling onto the streets and alley ways, intent on getting the most from their vacation regardless of the weather.

  He’d left the restaurant with two dollars still in his pocket and a plan.

  And the coffee wasn’t half bad either.

  The hardest thing would be convincing FayeLynn to travel to The Realm.

  But, in the end, she’d have to go. If she wanted to save her son.

  The son who belonged to the arch-enemy of his family: Drake Kellen.

  The Folk didn’t really like humans. Crass and loud, there was nothing subtle or cultured about most of them. They tromped like mules and brayed like donkeys. In The Realm, sophistication and couth were everything.

  But even if The Folk would prefer to never interact with humans again, they had no choice. The Folk needed humans for one important reason: baby boys.