An Autumn Dream
By
Melissa Giorgio
Published by
Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing, LLC.
www.crushingheartsandblackbutterfly.com
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Text Copyright ©2013
All rights reserved
Published by
Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing, LLC.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.
Edited by Elizabeth Anne Lance
Cover by Rue Volley
To everyone who asked for more, this one’s for you.
A Sweet Treat
Rafe was kissing me in that way that made my brain stop functioning when he pulled away to ask, “Are you going to your school’s Halloween dance?”
It took a few seconds for my brain to click back on, and I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “What the hell made you bring that up?”
“Um.” He looked like a cornered mouse who knew his minutes were numbered as a ferocious feline stared him down.
“Rafe.” I, the ferocious feline, slid out of his lap and sat on the couch cushion next to him so I could properly glare at him. We were in my living room, waiting for Dad to come home with enough pizzas to feed an army, or, in this case, one extra hungry hunter and two equally hungry teenage girls. I had promised Dad we would be on our best behavior and watch TV or something equally chaste, and while the TV was on, I honestly couldn’t tell you what was playing. Who cared about a dumb talk show when there was some serious making out to do? Which we had been doing until Rafe decided to interrupt with a question about the school dance. What was wrong with this boy?
Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, “Normal people don’t think about lame things like a school dance when they’re kissing their girlfriend. Unless you’re trying to tell me I’m horrible at kissing, and I suggest you don’t, unless you want my fist in your face—”
He laughed, taking me by the waist and pulling me back into his lap. “I thought I was the bad kisser,” he murmured. “Since you kept falling asleep on me.”
“I had an excuse, okay?” I showed him my fingers. “Saving your life is pretty exhausting. What’s yours?”
He ran a hand through his wavy hair, stalling as he tried to come up with an excuse. “I just wondered what you normally did for Halloween.”
“Stay home and pig out on candy and watch scary movies with Chloe.” I grinned. “Want to join us? You’re welcome to come, as long as you keep your hands off my peanut butter cups.”
“God forbid I eat your favorite candy,” he muttered. “You might break my fingers.”
“Damn straight I would.” I curled up against Rafe’s chest and batted my eyelashes. “Say you’ll come over? Pretty please? I’ll hold your hand during the scary parts!”
“I am not afraid of scary movies!” He combed his fingers through my loose hair and I resisted the urge to start purring under his touch. “You never go to the dance, then?”
The urge to purr was replaced with the urge to smack him upside the head. “What is with you? Why are you suddenly obsessed with the stupid school dance?”
As Rafe avoided my eyes, something clicked in my head and I plunged my hand down the pocket of his pants, extracting his phone. He let out a yelp and tried to stop me, but I danced away, scrolling through his texts and ignoring the flush on his cheeks.
“You were talking to Penny!” I accused. “What the hell! The two of you are conspiring to get me to go to the dance!”
“Three of us, actually,” he said at the exact moment I spotted Harrison’s texts.
“They are so dead,” I growled. “Drive me to Pen’s house so I can kill them, Rafe.”
“Err, that’s kind of illegal.”
I shook my head. My best friend was seriously deranged. Not only did she love a good house party, but she also thought school dances were fun. Fun! What the hell was fun about dancing in the school cafeteria that smelled strongly of grease and was decorated with stupid paper ghosts and pumpkins that the student council bought at the dollar store? Did she like drinking lukewarm punch or enjoy having the teachers glare at us like we forced them to chaperone the lame ass party? Or listening to music that was popular ten years ago playing from crappy speakers that didn’t always work?
I went to the dances. I went back when we were thirteen and stupid and thought the things were cool. I suffered through a year of them, thinking they would get better, but they didn’t. Being in high school didn’t change anything. The dances still sucked.
And yet here was Rafe, looking at me with an almost pleading expression. Like he actually wanted to go. Why would he want to go? “Are you a masochist?”
“What?”
“No, wait.” I frowned. “She’s bothering you, isn’t she?” I quickly counted the texts on the phone, stopping when I reached twenty. “She’s making your life miserable until you get me to say yes, isn’t she?”
“No, of course not,” Rafe said. He took the phone from my hands and shoved it back in his pocket. Then he went back to holding my hands, looking me straight in the eye. “I actually want to go.”
“Again, are you a masochist? I mean, you live with Evan, so you must be—”
“Gabi!”
I looked away. “I just don’t understand why you would want to go to something so stupid.”
“What’s so stupid about spending the night with my girl all dolled up and in my arms?” he asked softly.
My heart melted a little at that. Stupid, stupid heart, it could never say no to Rafe. Did it have any idea that it was ruining my reputation? “Dolled up? What are we, living in the twenties?” I suddenly had a great idea about costumes. Matching costumes. No! What was I doing? I wasn’t giving in! We weren’t going to this stupid dance!
Rafe tilted his head sideways. “Mmm. I just want to go out on a normal date with my beautiful girlfriend and not have to worry about Boneless or Fishface—”
“Or Crotch Soda Boy—”
“Or Horny Boy—”
“Hornboy,” I laughed, smacking him on the shoulder.
“Right, Hornboy.” Rafe’s green eyes twinkled with amusement. “I just want to spend the night with you. Doing stupid, normal teenage things.” His face colored when he realized what he just said. “You know what I mean.”
I gave him a suggestive smile. “Yeah, I think I do. Just don’t let my dad hear you; he was sharpening his knives yesterday.”
Rafe swallowed hard. “You know what I mean! Dancing and drinking punch—”
I rolled my eyes.
“And hanging out with your friends and just…no demons! No hunting! No dead bodies and heads and definitely no—”
“Green blood,” we said in unison.
I placed a hand on Rafe’s chest, feeling his steady heartbeat through his gray polo shirt. “Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend? I thought you lived for the hunt?”
He shook his head. “Not anymore.”
“What changed?”
“I found something more important,” he said, locking his eyes with mine. Before I could respond with a sarcastic comment, he leaned in and kissed me deeply.
“Well,” I breathed after we pulled away, “at
least you have your priorities in order.”
He kissed my cheek, and then started slowly, teasingly, working his way down my neck. “What do you say?” he asked between kisses.
“Uhhh.” I was too busy melting into a pile of goo to answer him coherently.
He kissed me a little lower. “Want to go to the dance with me? In costume?”
“Sure,” I said.
He froze with his lips on my collarbone. “Really?”
You know, it wasn’t fair that he was asking me these questions while he was kissing me. I’d probably agree to anything at this point, like doing my geometry homework or working an extra shift or—
Going to the dance, apparently. Crap. Double crap. And why was I sort of feeling excited for it? I grabbed a hold of his face and pushed him away from my neck, regretting the loss of lip contact immediately. “If we do this, and god, I cannot believe I’m agreeing to this, you can’t show up in a half-assed costume like your baseball uniform.”
Rafe looked crestfallen. Wait, was that what he was planning on wearing? “Oh, okay,” he said, trying to smile. “Then what am I going to wear?”
I told him what I had in mind. “What do you think?” I asked.
He smiled. “It sounds like the cat’s pajamas.”
***
“Yay, I’m so excited you finally came to your senses!” Penny Lane, my overly excited redheaded best friend crowed, clapping her hands together. It was the next day and we were sitting in her bedroom, working on our English papers together. I mean, that’s what we had told our parents we were doing, but actually we were pigging out on chips and soda and apparently discussing this stupid dance.
Remind me again why I had said yes? I fixed her with a glare. “You know, harassing my boyfriend is definitely not cool, Pen.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh yeah? You conveniently forgot all about those twenty something texts you sent him?” I threw a chip at her. “I don’t like the idea of all of you ganging up on me.”
She popped the chip in her mouth. “You’re being a little overdramatic. I may have threatened Rafe a few times—”
“Threatened him?” I asked. “That’s my job!”
“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it.” Penny flopped down on her side, propping her head up with her hand. “Look, Gabi, I just want you to have fun.”
“How the hell do you think going to that stupid dance is going to be fun?” I shook my head. “You and I clearly have different definitions of that word. Fun for me is having a good time. Fun for you is being tortured!”
“Shut up,” she said with a grin. Reaching for her open can of soda, she took a long drink before answering. “It’s like this. You finally have a guy. A really good guy. And I want you to make some good memories with him.”
I nearly choked on a chip. “By going to a dance? Why aren’t you telling me to make memories by going back to his apartment and jumping him?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s for after the party, stupid.”
I groaned. “Of course it is.”
“Gabi, listen to me.” Penny sat up and grabbed my hands. “School dances are lame.”
“Then why—”
“Will you just listen?” She squeezed my hands hard. “You’re not going for the decorations or the finger food or the disgustingly warm punch. The reason you’re going is to spend the night in Rafe’s arms dancing while he stares at you adoringly. While he tells you how beautiful you are and can he please take you back to his apartment so he can undress—”
“Whoa,” I said, holding up a hand. “I liked everything you were saying up until that point.”
“What, you want him to undress you in his car?”
I grabbed one of her pillows and hit her in the head with it. “Okay, Miss One Track Mind, easy there. No one is undressing anyone.”
“Maybe not you and Rafe, but…” She smiled suggestively.
“Ugh, I’m going to throw up these chips I just ate.”
Pen turned serious. “I am really happy for you.”
“For being nauseated?” I quipped.
“No, you idiot, for finding someone! I know Harrison and I were probably really annoying…”
“Were? Why the past tense?”
She glared at me. “I’m trying to be serious here!”
“That’s a first!”
“Ugh, Gabi!” Now it was her turn to hit me with the pillow, and I dissolved into laughter. “Dummy. Here I am, trying to apologize and you’re laughing at me!”
“Wait, apologize?” I sat up straight. “For what? For being in love? Penny, now you’re the one being an idiot! I never regretted the fact that you were happy!”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded a billion times like one of those bobble head dolls. “Yes, of course. Although, now it’s my turn to be disgustingly cute with Rafe, right?”
“Absolutely,” she agreed. “Make us throw up. I won’t mind.”
I made a face. “Do you realize how wrong that sounds?”
“The moment those words left my mouth I regretted them,” Penny said with a shake of her head.
“How is that different from anything else you say?”
She hit me with her pillow again.
***
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? It’s not too late, you know,” I asked Chloe as I sat on the toilet in our shared bathroom, my eyes closed as she worked on my makeup.
“No, I told you, I’m just going to stay home and have a quiet evening passing out candy to the cute Trick-or-Treaters.”
I opened one eye to see she was deadly serious. “You really don’t mind staying home with Dad? The dance is stupid, but at least you’ll be out with your friends.”
She gave me a small smile before telling me to shut my eyes. As she ran eye shadow over my lids, she said, “Nah, I just don’t feel up to it lately. Staying home now and again is good, too.”
I sighed quietly, but said nothing. Ever since Matthew Davenport, a hunter-turned-demon, had kidnapped and attacked my sister, she had changed. She wasn’t going out to crazy parties with her best friend Tori, coming home early in the morning totally wasted and expecting me to cover for her. It was good that she wasn’t doing that stuff, of course. I had always thought she went way overboard, but still…I was scared that what had happened to her had caused some permanent damage. Evan had used magic to erase her memories of that night, creating false ones that involved her tripping down the stairs to explain the cuts and bruises on her body. She had seemed to believe that, even going so far as to tell Dad that she had been drinking—which she hadn’t—and allowing him to ground her for the rest of the month. He had eased up when he saw how unnaturally obedient Chloe was behaving, and told her she could go to the dance with us, but she had declined. Chloe never declined, which was what made this so weird.
“Come out with us next weekend,” I said impulsively. “We’ll go to the movies or something—”
“You don’t want your kid sister hanging around and ruining your dates, Gabi.”
She started applying blush to my cheeks, and I opened my eyes. “Is that what you think you’d do? Ruin my hot sexy times with Rafe?”
“Uh yeah? And who wants to be around for that?”
Why did everyone think all Rafe and I did was go around tearing our clothes off? If they only knew what we always seemed to be involved in when we were alone…
Claws, fangs, and lots of green demon blood. Yeah, definitely not sexy times.
I poked her in the arm, and she scowled at me. “Next week. We’re going to the movies. You, me, and Rafe. And we will have fun. Especially when we get him to take us out to eat afterwards! We can have dessert!”
Chloe groaned. “You are such a pig. I swear you care more about cake than your gorgeous boyfriend.”
“I like them equally.”
“Oh my god, do not tell him that!”
I blinked. “Chlo, he alr
eady knows that.”
“How the hell did you end up with a boyfriend?” she muttered under her breath as she rummaged around for lipstick. “I feel sorry for Rafe. I really do.”
“Yeah, you should,” I admitted with a grin. “I am pretty high maintenance.”
“Well, at least you know that.”
“Know what?” Dad asked, popping his head into the bathroom.
“How hot I look,” I told him, standing up so he could get the full effect. His eyes widened and for a moment I thought he was going to ban me from attending the dance. But then he smiled and held up his digital camera.
“Rafe is here, and the two of you are not leaving until I take your picture.”
“Oh god, Dad, what is this, the 1940s?” I looked at Chloe. “Did they even have cameras back then?”
“Who knows?” she said, wrinkling her nose. “They probably didn’t even have electricity. Right, Dad? You were alive back then, right?”
“Hahaha,” he said dourly. “Why don’t you go downstairs and dry the dishes, Chloe?”
“But I want to see Rafe all dressed up!”
Me too, I thought as I followed them downstairs.
Rafe was waiting at the foot of the stairs, nervously adjusting the cuff on one of his sleeves. I took one look at him and nearly fell down the stairs in my heels. Dad grabbed me just before I toppled over, and I took a moment to steady myself—and ogle the sight before me.
He was wearing a dark blue, well-fitted suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. A black bow tie circled his neck, and his hair had been parted and slicked back with a generous amount of pomade. His shoes were shiny black patent leather, and in one hand he held a black fedora with a white band wrapped around the base of the hat.
He looked like a gangster. A dreamy, gorgeous, makes-you-swoon (or fall-down-the-stairs), gangster.
“Hello, handsome,” I purred, totally forgetting Dad and Chloe were behind me. I walked down the rest of the stairs and Rafe held up his hand to help me down.
He planted a kiss on my gloved hand and said in a voice thick with emotion, “You look beautiful.”
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