As Aunt Sage moved around the room making coffee, I watched her efficient movements with a clenched jaw and growing confusion. My normally talkative aunt stayed focused on her task, not looking up once. She was way too quiet. By the time she set my mug on the table, then slid into her seat across from me and cupped her hands around the warm mug, my teeth hurt. When her hazel gaze met mine, I suddenly understood. “It’s about Dad, isn’t it?”
She slowly nodded. “Even without your ability to see your next day, you’ve always read people well. I like to think you got that from me.” A brief smile flitted between us. “I don’t like the answers I’ve gotten from Jonathan’s secretary. She claims he’s out of the country on business.” My aunt snorted, then expelled a frustrated sigh. “I want to look this tight-lipped woman in the eye when I talk to her. I’ll get a better read if I can study her face.”
I took a big sip of my coffee. It burned, but I gulped it down anyway. “What does your gut tell you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
My aunt pursed her lips. I’d only seen her do that once when I was almost seven. Lured by the creek sounds in the woods behind her house, I’d disobeyed her rules and left the yard to explore. She’d been so angry when she finally found me turning over rocks looking for crawdads. In one breath she was furious, then in the next she was crying and pulling me into a tight hug.
“I don’t think I’m being told everything,” she finally said, drawing me out of my reverie.
Despite the coffee warming my body, chill bumps scattered across my skin and my stomach tumbled. Whenever my aunt had said that to me, her penetrating eyes drilling hard, she’d always been right. I just hadn’t always fessed up to my crimes. “Are you also going to his apartment, um, house…er, wherever he lives?”
“That’d be the first place I would go.” Aunt Sage lifted her shoulders, then let them fall with an exasperated exhale. “If I knew where he lived.”
My jaw dropped. I knew my aunt had kept a cool distance from my dad after he’d left us when I was little, but I’d assumed she knew where he lived all these years. All I knew was that he lived in the D.C. area. “How can you not know that? What about the monthly check you give us? Doesn’t he mail them to you? There has to be a return address.”
She shook her head. “The return address has always been his office address.” A sly, confident gleam flitted across her face. “How do you think I know exactly where to go to hunt down his secretary?”
I rubbed my forehead, worried. “What are you going to do? March into his office and demand to know where he is?” I frowned when a second realization occurred. “What kind of work does he do, anyway?”
My aunt waved her hand. “Some government job.” She took a sip of her coffee, her gaze hardening. “And yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. No appointments. I don’t want his secretary to know I’m coming. I’ll come back with answers.”
The hitch in her voice concerned me. I ignored the knot that had formed in my stomach and reached across the table to grip her hand. “I know I’ve asked to know more about my powers and only Dad can provide those answers, but right now…” I paused and had to work hard to keep my hand from trembling. “I—I just want to make sure you come back.”
“Please, please don’t act on things you dream about, Inara.”
The pleading in my aunt’s voice distracted me. “I’m not,” I answered in a dry tone, even as I mentally finished, …going to be able to without a painful punishment.
Aunt Sage visibly relaxed. Turning her hand over beneath mine, she squeezed my fingers, her eyes full of warmth. “And don’t worry. Didn’t you know you’re stuck with me forever?”
Tears threatened and I willed them away, giving her a trembling smile. She smiled back, then quickly stood. “Come, I have something for you.”
I followed her into the living room and for the first time noticed the wide black box with a gold lid sitting on the ottoman. Normally that was Bo’s hangout spot.
Aunt Sage grabbed the box and her eyes lit with excitement as she handed it to me. “Happy early birthday, Inara.”
I blinked my surprise. “But my birthday’s not for a couple more weeks.”
Aunt Sage touched my jean jacket’s worn collar. “I think you could use this now. Go ahead, open it.”
I lifted the lid, then pulled back the white tissue paper. “It’s so soft,” I said in surprise, running my fingers over the supple black leather jacket nestled in the paper. I fiddled with the silver zipper pull, then turned my gaze to my aunt. “You didn’t have to buy such an expensive gift, but thank you. I love it!”
My aunt clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. “I’m so glad you love it, sweetie.” She tugged on my jean jacket sleeve, pulling it over my hand. “Now try it on and let’s make sure it fits.”
Once I slipped into my new jacket, my aunt zipped it up, then smoothed the collar into place. “It’s a perfect fit,” she said, her voice full of pleased warmth. “And it’s my absolute pleasure, Inara. You know I think of you as more than my niece.”
Tears prickled and I smiled through them as I threw my arms around my aunt, giving her a tight bear hug for the first time. Ever.
Aunt Sage froze for all of a second before I heard her let out a breath. She quickly wrapped her arms around me, then kissed my hair, murmuring, “I feel like it’s my birthday too. Don’t worry, I’ll be back with answers for both of us.”
I hugged her tighter. “Don’t be gone too long.”
Chapter Seven
The house was quiet and dark as I entered. I glanced at the clock on the microwave. Six. Mom wouldn’t be home for a few hours. I locked the door, then trudged upstairs to my bathroom.
After I inspected my throat in the mirror, I was glad to see only slight bruising. No one would notice it unless they stared at my neck under bright sunlight. I didn’t want to have to explain what happened to anyone. God, I didn’t even understand why it had happened.
Setting my backpack on my desk, I clicked the switch on my desk lamp. As soon as the light illuminated the desk, I stared at my partially opened laptop. The light in the back glowed blue, indicating the machine was on.
I never left my laptop on. I always completely closed it once it’d powered down. My stomach tensed and I quickly scanned my gaze around the room. My pulse rushed in my ears. Had someone been in here, looking at my laptop? Maybe I’d spaced out for once and forgot to turn my laptop off? Yeah, that had to be it.
I opened my laptop and my heart nearly stopped when the screen came to life. Someone had clicked on my computer’s search history. They must’ve forgotten to close out of it. Or had my arrival interrupted them before they’d been able to close the history?
I dropped to my knees to look under the bed. Nothing. My focus slid to my open closet as my heart slammed against my chest wall, pounding in an erratic, fearful beat. I could easily see beyond my clothes. No one was hiding behind them.
The window! My eyes skittered to the window I hadn’t bothered to lock for the last couple of weeks. That’s probably how someone got in. Angry with myself, I crossed my room in three long strides, then slid the locking mechanism into place with a determined flick of my wrist, murmuring, “Sorry, Patch.”
Now that I felt somewhat safer, I slid into my desk chair and put my hand on my laptop. It felt warm to the touch, which meant I had just missed whoever had been here. Were they thieves? I picked up my phone, intending to call the police, then scanned my room once more. Why hadn’t they taken my iPod, my small TV, or the laptop itself? Had my arrival scared them away before they’d been able to haul the stuff out of the house? What kind of thief takes the time to look through someone’s laptop history?
My pulse raced. Or could that person still be here in the house? My room was untouched, and even though it was shadowy downstairs, nothing had appeared missing or out of place. The police would think I was ridiculous for calling in a break-in if nothing was stolen. I forced myself to take even,
calming breaths.
The doorbell rang, making me jump. I gasped and quickly shut my laptop. Who could be at my door?
I shuffled down the stairs in the dark, then peered through the living room curtains to see who was on the front porch. The back end of our leaf blower hung in the air, held by someone. I breathed a sigh of relief and moved to flip on the front porch light.
“Hello.” A gray-haired man with dark brown eyes and a salt and pepper goatee smiled as I opened the front door. Holding the blower toward me, he continued, “Your mother was kind enough to lend this to me. I told her I’d return it as soon as I was done.”
Taking the blower from him, I held its bulk awkwardly and smiled, liking his crisp English accent. He sounded so formal. “Thanks.”
He slid his hands into his corduroy pants pockets and rocked on his heels, dark eyes gleaming. “According to your mother, my request saved you from leaf duty. I’m Mr. Wicklow, by the way.”
“I’m Nara.” I held the leaf blower back toward him. “You’re welcome to keep it all week if you’d like. There’s still a few more leaves on the trees.”
He chuckled, tilting his head to the side. “Much as I’d like to, I think your mother might think I’ve absconded with it if I kept it that long.” With a slight bow of his head, he said, “Please tell Mrs. Collins thank you for me.”
“I will,” I called after him. Once I’d locked the front door, I hauled the leaf blower back into the garage, then ran upstairs to make sure nothing else had been done to my laptop.
After I’d searched the “Today” tab to see if any new files had been opened or any software had been downloaded to my computer, I was thankful no spyware popped up. Returning to the search history page someone had pulled up, I scanned through it. Tons of raven websites, sword websites, tattoo websites, the Corvus Corax website. A tremor rippled through me when my gaze landed on my last search. It was the CVU library, where I’d looked to see if they had that article from thirty years ago. I’d also left a sticky note on my laptop about researching there today.
Was I followed based on that note? But then who was just in my room? I wondered as I unzipped my backpack to pull Ethan’s journal out. The leather book slipped from my fingers, falling open on my desk.
As my gaze landed on the huge raven yin-yang symbol I’d drawn that covered the entire first page, my hands began to shake. This was exactly how my journal had opened on the floor in the library. It was the page the guy had shoved my face toward, demanding that I pick up the book.
If he’d wanted it so bad, why hadn’t he picked it up himself? Why insist—no, command—that I do it?
I glanced at my locked window once more and my hands began to shake. I needed to hear Ethan’s voice. He would calm me.
I dug into my backpack for my phone, then turned it on. When it powered up, I saw Lainey had left a message and there were several from Ethan. Excitement zipped along my body. I looked at the time of his texts. He’d sent the first one while I was filling out paperwork with the campus police.
Ethan – 5:00 p.m. ~ You there, Sunshine? Something just doesn’t feel right. Tell me you’re okay?
Ethan – 7:00 p.m. ~ Where are you? I’m worried!
Ethan – 8:30 p.m. ~ Nara, PLEASE text me back. I need to know that you’re okay!
Then a voice mail thirty minutes ago. A voice mail! My first one since he’d left.
“I’m going out of my mind with worry. I swear to God, Inara, if I don’t hear from you before the end of the day, I’M COMING HOME!”
The vehemence in his voice, the near desperate violence in it—I didn’t want him to worry—but I couldn’t help but feel thrilled at how very loved it made me feel. My fingers raced over the buttons to call him back.
He answered on the second ring, rock music blaring in the background. “Nara?”
“Hi, I’m okay—”
“Thank God!” he interrupted in a deep growl. “Hold a sec. Let me get where I can hear you.”
When the screeching noise dwindled to a dull roar in the background, Ethan said, “Why didn’t you text me back?”
“Where are you?” I asked, briefly closing my eyes to absorb the resonance of his deep voice. I’d missed that bone-melting sound.
“My dad dragged me to a concert,” he said, sounding slightly disgruntled before shifting direction. “It’s so good to hear your voice. I was freaking out—” he paused, surprise edging his words. “So you’re really okay? Nothing’s happened?”
I clenched my teeth and pressed my lips together. Plenty has happened. I desperately want to spill my guts. But he was at a concert with his dad. That was a good thing. It meant they were getting along. I didn’t want to do anything to disturb their reconnection. It was vital to Ethan’s overall peace. “No, nothing exciting here,” I lied, doing my best to keep apprehension out of my voice.
“Are you sure?”
Ethan sounded suspicious, unconvinced. I could just picture him sliding a hand through his thick hair, then fisting his fingers in his bangs as he paced. I chewed the inside of my cheek, jealous. I wanted to run my fingers through the dark mass, smell his shampoo and spicy deodorant mixed with his own unique smell. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry you were worried. I was at the library researching. I forgot to turn my phone back on.”
Ethan blew out a harsh breath. “For once I’m glad my ‘something is off’ vibe was wrong.”
I bit my lip to keep from saying, “Oh, Ethan, always trust your gut!” Instead, I said quietly, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” he said, tenderness softening the tension in his voice.
Tears gathered in my eyes and I clutched my phone tighter. Blinking rapidly to hold them back, I rushed on, “There’s a winter dance at school, not this Saturday, but the next. Will you be back in time for it?”
When he didn’t answer right away, I wondered if he’d heard what I said. There was still a lot of noise in the background. “Did you hear me?” I asked, my stomach tensing.
“I’m sorry, Nara, but I don’t think I’ll be back before then. There are still things I need to—” He cut himself off, but not before I felt the frustration and something else—regret?—lacing his tone. “I’ll try my best to make it up to you when I get back. I promise. Okay?”
He had no idea when he was returning? The uncertainty made my heart ache. “I understand,” I said, then pressed my lips together to keep from sobbing my disappointment. “You’d better go find your dad.”
Ethan expelled a deep breath. “Yeah, I need to get back in there. Please keep your phone on, Nara. I can’t think straight if I’m worried about you. And right now, thinking straight is pretty damned important,” he finished with a harsh snort.
Guess his dad wasn’t making it as easy for him as I’d first thought, but his confession of his feelings unraveled my tightly held restraint. Silent tears streamed down my cheeks. “I’m sorry I worried you. I’ll keep my phone on. Come home soon. Now go enjoy the concert.”
“I can’t wait to come home to you,” he said, his voice slipping into a silky purr.
Home. To me. That sounded absolutely wonderful. I rubbed the tears from my cheeks, smiling like crazy. “I can’t wait either,” I whispered.
“Good night, Nara. Dream of me.”
I bit back a bittersweet whimper. He sounded like he was willing it to happen. How I wish I could, Ethan! “It would be so much easier to fall asleep and dream of you if you were holding me,” I shot back.
“You’re killing me,” he gritted out, but I felt his smile too. “Go to bed, Sunshine.”
A thrill zipped through me. I’d never get tired of that sweet nickname. Ethan sounded a bit different, the way he spoke more confident. This trip has been good for him, despite his annoyance with his dad. I could suffer through. “Goodnight,” I said in a breathy voice before hanging up, my aching heart seesawing with sad-happiness.
* * *
The next morning, I was woken early by a text ping from my
mom.
Mom – 6:45 a.m. ~ I see the leaf blower is back. Hmmm, wonder what that means? ;) Just wanted to let you know that I had a six a.m. conference call this morning with the international team. Ugh, I’m dragging. I’ll see you tonight, sweetie! Italian sound good?
Mom wasn’t usually so long-winded. Normally her texts were to the point.
Had a six a.m. meeting. I’m bringing home Italian tonight.
She’d gotten home after I fell asleep. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole “dating” thing. Discombobulated came to mind, a big word with all kinds of confused emotions attached.
As soon as I walked into the school’s main atrium, Lainey slammed into me in a tight hug and a cloud of spicy chic perfume. She’d hit me so hard she knocked my red pageboy hat off.
“What was that for?” I asked, grasping her elbows for balance. Was something else going on with her other than the scary scenario that would happen this afternoon? I could only handle one emergency at a time. As far as I was concerned, Fate could hop off. Nothing was going to happen to my best friend.
Unshed tears glistened in her eyes as she pulled back and squeezed my shoulders. “Why didn’t you call me back last night?” A frown quickly replaced the worry. “And why did I have to find out what happened at CVU’s library through Matt?”
Heat suffused my face. My call with Ethan had completely eclipsed my scary library experience. What was it with me and libraries? “I’m sorry, Lainey. I got distracted. First, I went to my aunt’s, and then I talked to Ethan for the first time since he left.”
Her auburn eyebrows shot up as she released me to scoop up my hat. She adopted a cheeky grin as she plopped it on her own head. “Ooh, finally! What’s his deal with not talking on the phone?” Before I could reply, she rambled on, “So, is he coming back soon?”
Lucid, YA Paranormal Romance (Brightest Kind of Darkness Series, Book #2) Page 7