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Fallen Elements

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by Heather McVea




  Fallen Elements

  Heather McVea

  Published by Heather McVea at Smashwords

  Copyright 2015 Heather McVea

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or event is entirely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  About the author:

  Heather McVea was raised in a small town south of San Antonio, Texas. Prior to escaping to the big city, she raised Hampshire pigs, rode motorcycles at entirely too young an age, and once snow boarded behind a Ford pickup truck. She relishes a strong gin and tonic, but leans after three. Shiny twinkly things make her cringe, up to and including Hollywood vampires.

  Heather and her wife have three fur babies and are working their way through all of the distillery tours in Texas… and beyond.

  Heather is currently working on the novella Coleen: Forever, an origin story of one of the more popular characters in the Waking Forever universe. It is slated for release in June 2015.

  Follow Heather on Twitter @HMcVea

  Playlist:

  Lovestain – Jose Gonzalez

  A Sky Full of Stars – Coldplay

  Scare Away the Dark – Passenger

  Young Girls – Bruno Mars

  Paint It Black – The Rolling Stones

  Love Runs Out – OneRepublic

  Moondance – Van Morrison

  Called Out in the Dark – Snow Patrol

  Turning Page – Sleeping at Last

  Take Me to Church – Hozier

  The Way I Am – Ingrid Michaelson

  Broken Crown – Mumford & Sons

  Lost in My Mind – The Head and the Heart

  Dangerous – Big Data

  Nights in White Satin – The Moody Blues

  Wake Me Up – Avicii

  White Blank Page – Mumford & Sons

  Flightless Bird, American Mouth – Iron & Wine

  “The unseen, the unheard, the untouchable is what weaves the fabric of our see-able universe together.”

  - Robin Craig Clark

  Chapter 1

  “Is anyone sitting there?” The Amtrak train was completely full as it pulled away from the gate at Baltimore’s Penn Station, and Ryan Myers had managed to purchase one of the last seats for herself.

  Standing in the aisle with a small gray Samsonite bag in tow, the brown haired, blue eyed woman was beginning to sweat. It was March, and though Ryan had been grateful for her navy blue pea coat and beige wool scarf during the last throes of winter outside, the congestion in the train car was causing her to feel suffocated by her outer wear.

  A blonde woman in her early thirties, dressed in a pair of black chinos and a cream colored cotton blouse, looked up from her iPad. “It’s not taken.” The woman looked at Ryan’s suitcase. “But I think the overhead bins are full.”

  Taking the middle finger of her brown leather glove between her teeth, Ryan pulled the glove off her hand and deposited it in her coat pocket, followed by its mate in her other pocket. She huffed out a breath of air and loosened her scarf. “No one checks bags anymore.” She shook her head as she looked around for a place to stow her carryon. “Though clearly, I’m one of the offenders.” She smiled at the blonde.

  “No judgment here. The fees are ridiculous.” The woman slid her iPad into the seat pocket in front of her. “Here, let me help.”

  Standing up, the woman stepped into the aisle just as the train began to pull forward. The blonde was jostled forward before managing to steady herself on the seat next to her. The man sitting in the seat looked back and rolled his eyes at the woman.

  “Sorry.” The blonde cringed, and then looked at Ryan and shrugged her shoulders. “I can move my bag over, and maybe that will free up some space for you.”

  Ryan nodded. “I really appreciate it.” She watched as the woman turned and shifted a blue American Tourist bag up against one of the dividers in the overhead bin. Ryan thought the woman was beautiful. Her blonde hair sat just above her shoulders, and had a sheen to it that reminded Ryan of silk. Her skin was smooth with a slight tan, and her eyes were the color of sea foam green.

  “There. That should do it.” The woman tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she turned to face Ryan. “Do you need help lifting it?”

  “No worries. I’ve got it.” Ryan lifted her bag up, and slid it in next to the blue bag. “Perfect.” She unbuttoned her coat and pulled her scarf off before wedging the garments between the two bags.

  The blonde slid into her seat and removed her iPad from the seat pocket. Crossing her legs, she turned her attention back to the device.

  Ryan had left her house in such a hurry she had forgotten her Kindle, and was relegated to reading a copy of Time Magazine she had hastily bought in the train station. It hardly mattered, though. She was exhausted and not able to concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes. After reading the same paragraph about food additives four times, Ryan slid the magazine into the seat pocket in front of her, and laid her head back against the headrest.

  “Excuse me.” Ryan’s entire body jerked when her seat mate spoke, and she realized she must have dozed off. The woman’s warm hand was on Ryan’s forearm, and a wave of heat skittered up her arm and into her chest. “I’m sorry to startle you. You fell asleep, and I wasn’t sure which stop was yours.”

  Ryan looked up at the scrolling marquee attached to the ceiling of the train car. She had been asleep for nearly an hour, and the train was arriving in Philadelphia. Shifting in her seat, Ryan stretched her neck to the left, the muscles aching. “Ah, no, it’s fine. I’m going to New York.”

  The blonde removed her hand, and settled back into her seat. “I figured it was better to make sure.”

  Leaning forward in her seat, Ryan extended her arms out in front of her until she could lay her palms flat against the back of the seat. Yawning, she stretched the muscles between her shoulder blades. “I appreciate that.”

  It was the second time the woman had helped her, and though Ryan usually wasn’t one for small talk with strangers, she could use the distraction. It didn’t hurt that the blonde was exactly Ryan’s type.

  “I’m Ryan, by the way.” Extending her hand to the woman, Ryan flashed her most charming smile.

  “Leah. Nice to meet you.” The woman took Ryan’s hand, a warm smile spreading across her face. “You’re going to New York then? Me too. Business or pleasure?”

  Ryan released Leah’s hand. “Neither. Family.”

  Leah chuckled. “I get that.”

  “And you?” Ryan leaned back in her seat, and still feeling hot, she pushed the sleeves of her long sleeve gray t-shirt up to her elbows.

  Leah’s brow furrowed, and a look of sadness crossed her green eyes. “I’m seeing an old friend.”

  Ryan didn’t want to make the woman uncomfortable by prying, and she didn’t want to open herself up to a tragic telling of a personal story when they still had nearly two hours left on the train together. Besides, she was in no mood herself for emotional outpourings.

  “Do they live in New York?” Ryan tried to think of the most innocuous question.

  Leah’s expression lightened as she nodded. “They -
they do.” The woman laid her iPad on her lap. “Do you live in Baltimore?”

  “I do, and you?”

  “Just outside of Baltimore.”

  The two women sat for several seconds in an awkward silence. Clearly neither knew what to talk about, beyond the few perfunctory questions deemed appropriate to ask a stranger on a train.

  “What do you do for a living?” Leah managed to break the silence.

  “I just finished my doctorate in social policy.” Ryan felt the train slowing down, and looking outside the windows, she could see flashes of the Philadelphia skyline.

  “Really? How is that different from social work?” The scent of vanilla and fabric softener wafted over Ryan as Leah leaned on the arm rest between them.

  Ryan instinctively shifted so she was facing Leah. She was pleased the woman knew there was a distinction. “Social work is the proverbial boots on the ground - case workers, foster care. That sort of thing. Social policy deals more with the policies that guide those workers and helps maintain and build the infrastructure they work in.” Ryan hoped she wasn’t going off on a tangent and boring Leah.

  “So more of the government and administration end of things?” Leah asked.

  Ryan nodded. “Yes. Specifically the partnership of government with business, charities, and communities.”

  “So nothing too important?” Leah teased. Ryan had to focus so she wouldn’t stare at the blonde’s full pink lips. “How does that translate into a career?”

  Ryan forced her attention to Leah’s eyes, but found the light green irises even more distracting than the woman’s mouth. “Well, I’ve had several job offers with local municipalities for program administration work, but nothing seems right. I don’t want to have gone through all the time and expense of my education to end up settling.”

  Ryan turned so she was facing forward again. She continued to feel very hot. “Typical crap really. Nothing but school and internships for the past eight years, and now - well, now it’s go time and I’m sputtering at the gate.” Jesus, why am I telling her this?

  Leah nodded. “Cross roads can be a bitch.”

  Ryan laughed. “You have no idea.”

  The two women looked at each other, the awkwardness from earlier forgotten. “What do you do?” Ryan asked, wishing they could open the window. Her face felt flush, and her palms were sweating. She wondered if she was coming down with something. Either that, or the dread inherent to her trip was causing hot flashes.

  “I own a small book store in Ellicott City. Just outside Baltimore.” Leah saw Ryan look down at the iPad in her lap. “I know, the harbinger of my own demise, but I hate lugging books when I travel.” Leah ran her long, tapered finger across the device’s screen. “Trust me. My house is bursting at the seams with real books.”

  Ryan smiled, and laid her head back on the head rest. The train had stopped, and passengers were exiting the car. “Then you won’t mind me telling you, short of a text book, I haven’t read anything besides my Kindle in over two years.”

  Leah gasped, an exaggerated, shocked expression on her face. “You’re the reason my retirement planning is falling by the wayside.”

  Ryan chuckled. “I thought it best if you heard it from me first.”

  Leah laughed, and even over the noise of the now boarding passengers, Ryan marveled at the pure delight the sound sparked in her. Why did I have to meet you on this trip?

  The train began to slowly roll forward as a dark haired woman in her early twenties stood next to Ryan in the aisle, an infant resting on her hip. “Ma’am?”

  Ryan looked up when she realized the woman was addressing her. “Yes?”

  “Are you two travelling together?” The woman looked at Leah. “Because my husband got a seat up near the front, but if you would let him take your seat, he and I could sit across the aisle from one another.” The woman lowered her voice. “And trust me, two parents are way better than one with a teething baby.” The woman scanned the train compartment. “You’d be doing everyone a solid.”

  Ryan squelched her disappointment at having to leave Leah, but there was really no good reason why she couldn’t help the couple out. “Ah, sure.” She got up, and squeezed past the woman. Looking at Leah, who had a noticeable frown on her face, Ryan shrugged. “It was nice talking with you.”

  Leah looked at the woman and child, and shook her head. “All good things, right?”

  “And no good deed.” Ryan shook her head as she walked down the narrow aisle. Damn my Good Samaritan leaning tendencies.

  For the next two hours, Ryan managed a fitful sleep. The jarring back and forth of the train, along with the incessant crying of the teething child she had abandoned Leah with, didn’t allow for much more than short cat naps.

  When the train rolled to a stop in New York, Ryan waited in her seat for the aisle to clear before venturing back to retrieve her bag and coat. She was disappointed to find Leah’s seat empty, and the blue American Tourist bag gone.

  Ryan pulled her coat and scarf down, along with her bag. She disembarked the train just before the passengers bound for Boston began clambering on. New York was even colder than Baltimore, and she quickly put her coat, gloves and scarf on right there on the train platform.

  Retrieving her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, she scrolled through her contact list as she walked toward the Penn Station terminal.

  “Myers-Howland residence.” A woman’s voice answered.

  “May I speak to Lucy, please?” Ryan walked through the Amtrak concourse, and toward the escalators that would take her up to the 7th street exit.

  “Who is calling, please?” The woman asked.

  “Her niece.” Ryan’s bag caught on the escalator step, and she nearly fell backwards before pulling it free. Standing to the right on the escalator, she took several deep breaths to steady her nerves.

  “Ryan? Are you already here? I texted you for your flight information, and I thought I told you I would send the car.” Lucy Myers-Howland’s voice had a slight nasal quality, as if she had a perpetual cold.

  “I took the train.” A blast of cold air slapped Ryan in the face as she emerged from the escalator and walked onto the busy New York street.

  “Why would you do that?” Lucy seemed more tense than Ryan remembered, but considering the circumstances, she could hardly be blamed.

  “It was cheaper.” Ryan sighed, already exhausted. “I’m catching a cab, and will be there in a half hour or so, depending on traffic.”

  There was a long pause. “Okay. I’ll let the staff know to expect you.”

  The line went dead, and Ryan slid her phone back into her pants pocket. She found the taxi stand, was quickly placed in a cab and whisked through the busy city streets. Her driver wore a Dastar turban, and had barely paused his phone conversation when Ryan had given him the address to her aunt’s house.

  Lucy and Derek Howland lived with their two adult children, Andrew and Carol, in a four story townhouse that had been built in 1927 by Ryan’s great grandfather, Addison Myers. The house was located on the tony Upper East Side of Manhattan in the middle of the Lenox Hill neighborhood, near the corner of 5th Avenue and East 72nd Street.

  The building sat nestled along a tree lined block across from Central Park, with a roof top deck and a rear yard Ryan remembered fondly from her youth. She had not necessarily appreciated it at the time, but now she knew how rare outdoor space was in a crowded city.

  Twenty minutes and twelve dollars later, Ryan stood in front of her aunt’s house. A late winter storm had left bright white snow blanketing portions of the broad sidewalk and the decorative foliage that was strategically placed in front of the residences. The swamp oaks that lined the street were bare for the winter. Looking up at the row of opulent houses, Ryan suddenly felt very small.

  “Here - we - go.” Ryan lifted her bag, and walked up the broad concrete steps to the house. The outer oak doors were large, with elaborate stain glass panels inlaid in the upper sections. Th
e glass was a series of geometric shapes in dark green, blue and red. When Ryan was a child, the design had reminded her of mountains, with a lake surrounding them along with a vast blue sky overhead.

  Ryan pressed the brass doorbell button to the right of the doors, and a moment later a woman in her late thirties opened the door. The woman was dressed in a gray housekeeper’s uniform, with her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.

  “May I help you?” The woman’s voice was flat.

  Ryan put her bag down, and extended her hand. “Hi. I’m Ryan Myers. My aunt is expecting me.”

  The woman’s over plucked brow arched as she looked at Ryan’s outstretched hand. After hesitating, she accepted the greeting with a faint smile. “Mrs. Myers-Howland mentioned you were coming. I’m Natalie.”

  The woman reached for Ryan’s bag, but stopped when Ryan quickly grabbed it. “Don’t worry about it. I can manage.” Ryan smiled reassuringly at the woman.

  Walking into the foyer of the house, Ryan was immediately taken back to her childhood. The scent of roses and lavender filled the space, and the dark maple wood floors shone to the point you thought you might slip on them. The pine wood paneling that lined the walls was accented with brass Tiffany lamps that ran throughout the house, the glass pattern of their shades matching the one on the front door. The ceiling on the first floor was high, with white decorative tin tiles, each embossed with an intricate wreath pattern.

  “May I show you to your room? You can freshen up before seeing your family.” Natalie gestured toward the wide staircase to the left of the foyer.

  Ryan looked down at herself. She was wearing a pair of brown, lace-up snow boots, faded blue jeans, a long sleeve gray Gap t-shirt, and her pea coat and scarf. She had stashed her gloves in her coat pockets when she first walked in.

  “I’m fine. Just point me in the right direction, and I’ll get settled.” Ryan walked past Natalie without waiting for her response. Given the confused expression on the housekeeper’s face, though, Ryan knew she had committed a faux pas.

 

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