There’s a feeling that I have… I feel like something’s about to happen. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s more than obvious that things are changing in me and around me.
From this moment on, I’ll ask my grandmother every question that comes to mind. It’s time I start getting some answers from someone! I deserve to know about who I am, I deserve to know about my parents. My instincts tell me they have something to do with everything that’s happening to me.
Why can I do the things that I do? Why me? That’s what I plan to find out.
Once the day’s over, I get in bed and snuggle as close as possible to Sire. This isn’t hard since he takes up most of my bed. I feel afraid and I can’t sleep. I worry about the blonde lady coming back and I worry about my grandfather.
Tonight my world feels altered, mixed up somehow. The paranoia I feel is extreme. I’ve read about anxiety attacks and how they affect people’s lives, maybe I’m having anxiety attacks. Even though I’m wrapped around Sire and my grandfather’s right down the hall, I feel nervous and alone.
My insides feel cold and that coldness is spreading as the night goes on. There are too many things happening, too much to worry about. And to top it off, I’m starting to realize that I’m falling for someone I can never have. Someone who thinks I’m amazing and strange, not a good combination. I’m cold and scared and possibly falling hard for Adam—this night sucks.
My room feels like it’s full of ice. The chill that’s stuck to me is making my entire body shake. Finally, after stuffing myself underneath Sire for warmth, I fall asleep. But no sooner than I fall asleep, the daylight is seeping into my room and right into my eyes. I try again to doze off, but Sire’s snoring doesn’t help. So instead I lay there and think—not a good idea for me.
Christmas is less than a week away and then it’s my birthday. I should feel happy. It’s not every day that a girl turns sixteen, but no matter how I try, I can’t feel happy. All I want to do is lay in bed all day.
I decide instead to be productive. I climb out of bed and the hardwood floors are so cold they burn my feet. Now that I’m not warmed by a massive dog, I can feel just how cold it really is and it’s freezing!
This shouldn’t be so shocking since it’s winter, but this is South Carolina! Winter here is like spring for most people—as in the natives wear flip flops year round. I bet that’s not the case today. I pull my curtain to the side to get a good look at the outdoors and I can’t believe my eyes.
The world was painted white overnight. Everything’s covered with snow! Ice hangs from the tree branches like sharp knives and the small lake across the yard looks as though it’s frozen solid. The snow is still continuously falling outside and the wind is blowing it all around.
“What the hell?” I say to myself.
How is this possible? Just yesterday it was seventy degrees outside and warmer than that last night before bed. And then it hits me, and the memories of last night seep into my mind. I felt afraid and cold last night before I fell asleep. This is my fault—I caused this snow storm!
I know what happens when I’m sad or upset. I know what happens when I’m angry. Although it’s rare, some pretty cool things happen when I’m happy. This is what happens when I’m afraid and cold inside.
I dig through my closet and find warm clothes—an old sweater and a pair of jeans. I pull out an old pair of boots that I didn’t even know I owned. Thankfully, I have unnecessary things. I pull on a thick jacket that I haven’t touched in a while and wrap a multi-colored scarf around my neck.
I stick my freezing fingers into a pair of black gloves then squash my dark hair into a cute little purple and black beanie with a pom on top. I look in the mirror and laugh. Never in a million years did I think I’d need these things in South Carolina.
I check in with Thaddeus and he agrees that I’m the culprit behind the snow. I eat some breakfast, check on my grandfather who’s still sleeping, and then I leave for the day.
Christmas shopping is on today’s agenda. After being around all of my new friends and discovering how nice it is to actually celebrate the holiday, I figure there’s no need to make myself more miserable. It can’t hurt to pretend that there’s a small portion of normalcy in my life.
My teeth actually chatter when I step into the cold. My front porch creaks under my feet. I lock the front door and turn to leave, but out of the corner of my eye I see something that stops me. I can’t stop the huge grin from spreading across my face and the tightness of my cold cheeks burns a little.
The image before me is perfection.
The little Christmas tree isn’t very tall and it’s covered in multi-colored lights. The snow outside is reflected in the little purple and silver glass bulbs. Freshly picked winter wildflowers are placed randomly into the branches. There’s a colorful star on top and purple ribbons wrapped all around it. It’s the most beautiful Christmas tree I’ve ever seen sitting on my front porch.
I kneel beside it like a little girl on Christmas morning. A giggle escapes me and happiness fills me up. It’s the greatest gift I’ve ever received and it couldn’t have come at a better time in my life. All the gloominess from the night before is replaced with cheerfulness. It’s more perfect than perfect!
I reach up and touch one of the purple Christmas bulbs. As I lean up to view the various beautiful flowers on the tree, my knees push up against something.
It’s a box covered in shiny silver wrapping paper with a big purple bow on the top. There’s a gift tag on it with my name written in jagged, male handwriting.
After removing my gloves, I release the bow and quickly rip away the silver wrapping paper to reveal a white gift box. The content of that box makes my heart sing. There’s a pretty purple notebook with stars and crescent moons all over it. My name’s engraved on the front with silver—completely personalized just for me.
Lying on top is a letter with the same scraggly handwriting.
I hope my name goes in this…a lot. Merry Christmas to my Dark Angel.
Adam
I promise myself I won’t over analyze the note so I fold it up and stick it in my back pocket. My face is beginning to hurt from the giant smile that’s plastered on it. His dark angel…swoon.
That settles it! Adam’s getting a gift, too.
He had single-handedly given me the best Christmas that I’ve had in many years and it’s not even Christmas yet.
Although I still have a strange feeling that something horrible is about to happen, my new feeling trumps it. There’s warmth in me now and it’s encouraging. There’s a lightness that seems to be taking over and no matter how hard I try to ground myself—I want to float.
Chapter 9
Flowers in the Snow
It’s glacial outside today, courtesy of little ole me. On the walk to the store my legs feel like they’re going numb. Luckily, on the way there Bernie passes me and I ride with her the rest of the way. My face tingles when I get into the heated car. I’ve never been so happy to see Bernie’s face.
She’s catching up on some last minute Christmas shopping and so am I, so we shop together. I don’t bother telling her about the tree on my front porch, but I do casually ask if she knows where Adam lives.
“Can you believe this crazy weather? I feel like I’m back in Colorado,” she holds up a snow globe and shakes it.
“Yeah, we never get snow around here, it’s a little strange if you ask me,” I smirk to myself. “So, change of subject, does Adam live by Kale?”
“No. Actually he lives right down the road from you, literally five minutes away,” she holds up a green shirt and wrinkles her nose in disgust.
Five minutes—which means it’ll take me around twenty minutes to walk there.
“It’s cute how you’re all crushing on Adam now,” she smirks at me over the ugly green shirt.
“I’m not crushing,” I say unconvincingly.
“Dude, you’re totally crushing,” she laughs.
I stick my
tongue out at her making her laugh harder.
I continue to shop and I find nothing for Adam. I’ve got Sire a huge bone and my grandfather a container of his favorite orange candies, but there’s nothing here that I’m willing to give Adam as a gift. After much searching, I decide to buy the ingredients for my grandmother’s tasty sugar cookies and a cute Christmas tin. Homemade Christmas cookies are better than something too personal or too impersonal.
After Bernie drops me off at home, I go into the kitchen and get to work. My grandmother sits and calls out orders, thankfully. I have the recipe, but they just aren’t the same without her touch.
Once they’re cool enough, I put them in the cute red Christmas tin I bought and then I tie a green ribbon around it. It’s cute and the cookies are delish. My grandmother always says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Not that I’m trying to get to Adam’s heart…am I?
It takes me approximately twenty minutes to walk to his house. It wouldn’t have taken that long if the ground wasn’t frozen. By the time I get there, I’m freezing to death. I step up the three steps to the front door and then I prepare myself for what I’m about to do.
Adam’s house is a decent size. It’s all brick and new; the only thing missing is a nice big front porch. I notice there are a lot of cars in the driveway and I almost lose my nerve. The thought of the walk over keeps me from turning away. No way am I turning back now. No way am I walking that long walk again tomorrow. Plus my grandmother’s cookies are always best fresh.
The snow has finally stopped falling, but none of the snow on the ground has started to melt yet. The temperature’s going to keep that from happening, so it looks like it’s going to be snowy for at least another day. The eighteen-degree-weather is making my teeth chatter as I stand there and debate knocking.
My heart is beating fast and my head is spinning. I’m not sure if I can do this or not.
This is embarrassing and I feel stupid. I’ll just give him something the next time I see him in school. The Christmas tree on my front porch is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me, but I can’t just show up at his house unannounced—especially during some kind of family Christmas party.
I turn around and start to back down the steps. The quicker I get home, the better.
The front door opens abruptly and a cute little blonde girl steps out. She’s tiny, no more than six years old with long pale hair that’s been curled for the occasion. She’s wearing a green velvet dress and black Mary Jane’s. Her wide doe eyes are glistening green like Adam’s. She looks like she just stepped out of a fairy princess book—so beautiful.
“Hi! My name’s Annabelle. What’s yours?” her little voice is sweet.
“Ah—my name’s Mage. It’s nice to meet you, Annabelle.”
“Are you going to stand out in the cold all day or are you going to come in for the party?”
There’s absolutely no way I’m going inside Adam’s home. My mind goes completely blank. One, I have no idea how to talk to a small person, and two I wasn’t invited to any party. I wouldn’t have gone to any party even if I was invited. I scramble for words.
“Well, actually I had no idea that you guys were having a party. I’ll just come back another time, okay? It was really nice to meet you though.” I say all this while making my way down the last two steps.
I have to make an escape before anyone else sees me.
“Who is it, Anna?” a deep voice asks from behind the door.
Adam.
Then he’s there standing behind Annabelle. He looks at me and some strange emotion flickers in his emerald gaze. He gives me his slanted smile and I feel warm. I could almost forget the fact that I’m frozen from my head to my toes.
“Run inside and tell mom I’ll be back in a bit, okay?” He pats Annabelle’s blonde head before he reaches over and grabs his coat from the coat rack.
He steps outside, putting his coat on at the same time, and then shuts the door. It’s as if we’re the only people in the whole white world.
Breathing suddenly becomes hard for me. I had prepared the cookies and knew what I was going to do with them, but not once had I thought of what I would say to him when we were face-to-face.
He begins rubbing his hands together and blowing hot breath between them. He sits down on the top step then pats the spot next to him.
“Want to sit down?” he asks
I walk up the two bottom steps and sit beside him. Our arms brush together and I feel a tingling sensation. Neither of us speaks, which is bad since now I’m sure he can hear my erratic breathing. My hot breath comes out in white clouds in the frigid air. Not only can he hear my hard breathing, but he can see it, too. Embarrassing thing number one—check!
“Can you believe this weather? Yesterday it was warm and it was supposed to be warm the rest of this week. Then you wake up and it’s snowing and cold outside. That’s strange, huh?” he asks with a knowing smile.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Do you want to go inside? I see you shaking, it’s freezing out here.”
“Oh—no thank you. I was just coming by to give you this,” I hold out the tin with the cookies in it. “Thank you for my present and the tree. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Did you like it?”
“I love it. The tree’s beautiful. It feels like Christmas at my house,” I smile. “Sorry about the cookies. I didn’t know what else to get you and I figured what guy doesn’t like cookies,” my face flushes.
I’m babbling. Since when do I babble? I put my head down in embarrassment and we get quiet again. I’ve never felt more nervous in my life.
“Thank you,” he pops open the tin. “I like sweet things.”
His silky words caress my skin and between him and the freezing temps, I’m covered in goose bumps again.
We both get quiet and then I realize that he might be waiting for me to leave so that he can go inside. I stand up and step down the stairs.
“Well, I better head back home. I just wanted to say thanks for the tree and everything,” I pull my beanie tighter onto my head and then I turn to walk away.
“Wait—did you walk here?” his brows inch up.
“Yes. But it’s okay—it’s not far.”
“But it’s freezing outside,” he jumps up from the step. “I’ll take you home.”
“No, its fine really—I don’t mind. I enjoy the walk.”
“There’s no way I’m letting you walk home in the cold, Mage. Come on,” he starts towards his truck.
There it is again, my name on his lips. Why does it do such weird things to me? He could probably persuade me to do anything…all he’d have to do is say my name.
I’m a sad little individual.
I follow behind him.
Part of me is glad that he’s taking me home and part of me is nervous. It’s sweet of him to offer and it would be rude of me to turn him down.
My brain is going a hundred miles-per-hour. I’m about to get in Adam’s truck and he’s about to drive me home. We’re going to be all alone, and if that’s not one of the greatest things ever, he has to go and make it ten times better by opening the truck door for me—such a gentleman.
I’m short, so he helps me climb into his big truck. His warm hands slide down my waist and he lifts me like I weigh nothing. All the cold in my bones dissipates and I feel hot all over. He makes an appreciative noise and smiles before closing the door behind me. I watch as he walks around the hood of his truck and then jumps into the driver’s seat without a problem. After cranking the loud engine, he turns on the heat.
“Hopefully it won’t take long to heat up,” he says while he rubs his hands together trying to warm them.
The short trip back to my house doesn’t last nearly long enough for me, yet it seems to take forever. It’s the strangest thing. I’m completely nervous around him—I always feel like running away, but at the same time, I never want him to leave. Adam’s slowly becoming a constant part of my mi
nd. Ever since this morning with the whole Christmas tree situation I’ve completely forgotten about my grandfather’s reaction to my terrible nightmare.
On the ride home, I find out that his truck is an older Ford F-150. He talks about it like it’s his baby. He tells me about all the great things he wants to do with it, like the fact that he wants to paint it black.
I also find out that when he’s not at school or hanging around with Kale, he works at the tire shop in the middle of town. The thought of Adam all sweaty and covered in motor oil makes me blush.
He puts his truck in park and then turns it off when we get to my house.
“Thanks for the ride home,” I open the door to get out.
He gets out too. I look over at him, but instead of walking ahead and leaving him; I stand there like an idiot. He walks around to the passenger side and stands in front of me. His smile’s different, darker almost. As if he holds some deep mysterious secret that no one else is allowed to know.
“It’d be rude of me to take you home, but not walk you to the door, right?” his dark brow lifts with his succulent lips.
I nod my head at him and then slowly walk alongside him to the bottom of the stairs leading up to my front porch. My legs are shaking and my palms are beginning to sweat inside my gloves. I want to run inside and slam the door behind me, but before rushing up the steps, I turn to face him.
The piercing green of his eyes attacks my senses and my breaths get shorter. He’s so handsome, and yet here he is with the weird girl at school, instead of some really hot blonde. That says a lot about how great he is.
Sliding his finger under my chin he tilts my head up so that I’m looking up at him, then he slides his hand to the back of my neck playing with the little hairs along my hairline. Suddenly, he leans in and tilts his head. His mouth is inches from mine and I can feel his hot breath against my cheek as he breathes deeply in and out. I freeze as he softly runs his warm lips across mine.
“Have you ever been kissed, Mage?”
He’s so close that every word he says makes his lips brush against mine—warm and moist. A tiny electrical current races down my spine and taps against my tailbone. I feel paralyzed from the sensation. My breathing increases and I feel like I’m spinning.
Wicked Fate (The Wicked Trilogy) Page 8