The Roses Academy- the Entire Collection

by Tara Brown

  A gust of wind blew up the alley, bringing a scent of laundry soap and deodorant, with a subtle mix of windblown sea air and the distinct smell of human being. It brought back panic as I scanned for an exit beyond my usual one. I couldn’t just vanish in front of him.

  His smell was the soundtrack to my youth and innocence. His was the only true love I’d ever known. The only real one.

  His face lit up as he got closer. He looked good, strong as always. His broad shoulders and handsome face brought a thousand images and beautiful moments to the forefront of my memory.

  My breath hitched as he stood under the lone flickering streetlight in an alley of a neighborhood the city had forgotten ages ago.

  Fear mingled with desperation to see him clearer. Just one close-up look of him would fill me for the next hundred years.

  I let it go too far.

  He frowned in disbelief as he recognized me too. “You—you’re the one? That’s not possible.”

  Raw emotion danced upon his face. His lower lip trembled. I let the fantasy of our lips gently touching play in my head before I took a step back, putting my hands out. “Pretend you never saw me. The medics will say heart attack.”

  “No, not you!” His face twisted in pain. “Anyone but you. Why?”

  I blinked slowly, allowing a single flash of every second of our time together.

  Every touch.

  Every smile.

  They had become my playlist when the burn in my chest grew unbearable. Only those little moments could soothe me.

  An unavoidable sharp breath left my mouth as I let the flat words leave my lips, “I have to eat—they make sense.”

  “What?” He looked sickened. “You’re eating them? How? They have no marks. None of the others had marks.”

  I let it all hurt and burn, searing my soul.

  I deserved to suffer.

  I wanted to explain.

  I wanted to be that girl—his girl.

  I wanted to be sitting on the back steps of his house, listening to his dreams.

  Instead, I turned and jumped onto the handrail of the stairs next to me, and climbed the fire escape.

  I ran up the stairs before he could even register that I’d left.

  I could still smell his fear, but it had switched. It was a different kind of fear. The kind that broke my already tattered heart. His fear of losing me again crowded the air around me, joined by his screams.

  Tears streamed my cheeks as I heard him shout my name, but I never stopped. I ran to the top of the building, desperate to get away. “AIMEE!”

  I winked from there, coming out near the train.

  Tears streamed my cheeks as I leaned against a building and gulped my breaths.

  A year—a whole year—had passed and I hadn’t seen him, not like that. I’d seen him in the glow of his house. Or through the window at the police academy. I’d seen him sleeping.

  But not staring at me like that, his heart breaking all over again.

  Epilogue

  My heels clicked on the street, distracting me.

  I gazed down at my boots and wondered what it was about them that made me feel sexy. I had contemplated it over and over many times in my new life. Boots made me feel sexy and it was a mystery beyond everything else as to why. For me, there was strength in a pair of boots, like a super power.

  I had started wearing them when I first trained to be a Rose. When Lydia saved me from the alley and the starvation.

  My sister had always worn them.

  I blocked that thought out of my mind. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I didn’t have a sister anymore. I had to let them all go.

  I had a new family now. I wasn’t alone in my pursuit, and had found people I belonged with. Or rather, they had found me. I fingered my platinum ring as I walked down the street.

  I jumped on the train and tried to blend in.

  The ride was exactly the sort of mindless activity I craved when I was scouting for trouble. It was monotonous until the group of men a few seats away started to harass the pretty waitress near me. I waited as always for them to stop being assholes; I tried not to interfere. It almost always involved someone dying. I finally understood Aleksander not wanting to get involved with humans. Explaining anything I did was too complex.

  However, I wouldn’t sit by and let a waitress entertain a group of men against her will in the train tunnels either. They were going to hurt her. They went further and further with the joking until they had worked each other up and there was no turning back.

  I sat, shaking and trying to keep my head down. I was supposed to be hunting for supernaturals and immortals, not attacking young men. The woman had tried to pull away, but the filthy pervert who sat next to her held on to her tightly. He stood hovering over her like she was his next meal.

  “Oh, she’s hot. You’re a ho, aren’t ya, baby?” another of the superior males muttered when the girl tried to stand up. The gyrating pervert pushed her back down into her seat. They hovered over her like vultures, awaiting the end of the ride.

  Every word and movement drove my upper lip to lift farther and farther on the right side, into a disgusted sneer. They wanted to do things I could never permit. I had forbidden myself from hurting regular humans, unless they were endangering others.

  “L-l-leave me alone,” the pretty girl begged, looking around the train for aid from anyone. As per usual, the fine patrons of the train kept their eyes to their hands. They showed no sign of trying to prevent the pain she would certainly become victim to. I could sense their good intentions were being stifled by their fear of the group of men. They would call 9-1-1 for the girl as soon as the men grabbed her and dragged her into the tunnels. That was what good Samaritans did. I almost rolled my eyes.

  As if answering my prayer, a huge man dressed as a construction worker stood up. He was a beast. He looked menacingly at the small group of men. “Leave her be.” His voice was gruff. “Come with me.” He put a hand out. It trembled as he reached for her.

  The waitress stood quickly and ran away from the men. She rushed to the arm of the man who saved her, her savior. She clutched her bag and refused to look back at the pack of wolves.

  The big man pulled her along the train and through the door to the next car. The men screamed obscenities and challenges of brute strength. The happy couple left the train car, ignoring them completely.

  The men continued to shout. It was easy to be strong when you had several men guarding your back.

  I smiled, knowing the waitress and the construction worker would probably fall in love because of his bravery. He had saved her and she would forever remember that, through thick and thin. I loved happy endings. They could get off the subway and never speak to each other again, but I liked to imagine the best since my world was the worst. Shane was my knight in shining armor. The one that chose me, even when he feared I never chose him.

  I smiled as the fiends eyeballed me next. Their prey had been taken savagely, and they needed someone else to fulfill their need. I had my own needs and a group of thugs would do more than nicely to satisfy them.

  “How unfair, boys. No one to play with now?” I taunted wickedly.

  Eyebrows rose in confusion.

  Confidence in a woman was considered a challenge to men who did their preying in packs. They instantly smelled—no, reeked of insecurities. They became uncertain of the pretty young girl who sat all alone, but at the same time were determined to crush me.

  Smiling, I glared straight at them and asked for trouble. “Well, I guess no one wants to play with me.” I stretched a long, lean leg out, flaunting my F-me boots and batting my eyelashes.

  The ugly brave or foolish man, who had dry humped the girl’s arm, stood. He challenged me back, “You stupid bitch. You looking for trouble?”

  His filthy demeanor made me smile wider. “Bitch? Probably. Stupid? No. Why don’t we step outside when the train stops? Then perhaps we shall see exactly who is stupid, your little rabble of filth or me.
”

  I stood strong in my Superwoman boots and sensed the world vibrate under my feet. It might have been the train, but I was riding a high and enjoying the feeling.

  I didn’t flinch as one of them took a step toward me.

  My long light-blonde hair flowed around my back like a cape. I was invincible. I stared down the pack of dogs.

  The ugly man waved his arms in the air dismissively at his friends. “That’s a crazy bitch. We don’t like crazy bitches.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. I was crazy.

  They smiled nervously and nodded amongst their small circle, speaking in a low rumble. They continued their name-calling but agreed amongst themselves I wasn’t pretty enough for their attentions. I walked over to the door and with my back to them, I watched in the window beside me. They weakly conspired against me, and I decided they were too far beneath my efforts.

  I got off the train, noticing the cool breeze in the air along with the familiar smell of burning incense. It was a dark scent, musty and old like the soul it belonged to. It was similar to that of winter and decay and overwhelmed the senses, but in a romantic hue instead of the decomposition it truly was.

  I looked around without seeing anything or anyone. I smiled at the true challenge of the night. There were many of them. Instead of winking home, I broke into a run. I winked a small distance and ran. They would have run me down if I’d just run. I was fast but not fast like them.

  I loved the click of my high-heeled boots on the concrete as I sprinted up the stairs past the old courthouse. My lungs pushed for air as my leg muscles flexed strenuously. My heart beat faster than I’d heard it beat in months. It was exhilarating. I almost felt alive.

  My bright-blonde hair flew behind me like a white cape, flashing in the dark night. I pumped my arms harder and pushed myself. I fled for the safety of my home. The guards put there would stop them, the hounds of the darkness. The ground swirled with the shadows that always surrounded them.

  I saw the street sign just as I heard their feet catching up and their breath nipping at my ears. I ran faster, pushing harder, but they too were fast. I almost winked, but instead, met the challenge. They had been made strong, just as I had been. The guards grabbed me in time, just as one of the filthy dogs leapt at me.

  I burst into a coughing laugh. I recovered promptly from the exertion, but still bent forward and smiled. I loved the sensation of the muscles in my legs contracting. “You-you almost had me. Excellent work. I won’t forget that foot race for some time. Maybe next time I’ll wear bigger heels and I won’t wink at all. That might give you a chance.” I waved goodnight to the shadows pacing in the background, behind the wall of guards.

  “Oh, we’ll have you, princess. We’ll taste your dark blood soon.” A dark and frankly daunting voice rode the wind above me.

  I pulled my sweater around myself as I curtsied. “The sun always wins, lads, and the north wind always loses. Goodnight, my fair princes.” I waved once again to the figures mulling around the road beyond me and then walked up to the old house and opened the unlocked front door. I always told her she should lock the door in a city as busy as Portland. The old bat couldn’t be bothered. She knew nothing in its right mind would ever attempt her front door. Except me. But I wasn’t in my right mind, and we both knew that.

  She sat in the old rocking chair looking millions of years old and smiling. “Taunting your brothers of the night again?” She cackled as only an old witch could.

  “Yeah. I can’t help myself.”

  “Did you take a life?”

  “I did. A girl’s got to eat, you know?”

  Lydia smiled her old-lady smile. “You could have some fruit like a normal girl. Maybe a steak.”

  I made a face. “Ewwww. Lydia, you know I’m a vegetarian. Steak, yuck.”

  She laughed again as I walked to my bedroom.

  I lay back on my bed and relived the instant I saw Shane. I peered over at the window and wondered where he was at that exact moment. I smiled and blew him a kiss.

  No matter what, we were under the same moon.

  I fell asleep with his smile in my mind.

  The dream was the same every time.

  The city stunk of decay and blood.

  Ruin was all around me.

  People were crying.

  In a panic, everyone searched for their loved ones. A disaster had hit and destroyed it all in a moment. I searched for the one I’d missed, the one who had snuck through our system and made the mess of everything.

  I looked everywhere, but through all the pain and suffering, all I saw was his face.

  Shane’s.

  He stood near to me, breathing me in. I wanted to touch him so badly. My dad’s hands reached out to me, the same way the man on the train offered his to the waitress. He was a knight in shining armor, there to save me by pulling me away from Shane. I stuck my hand out to take his just as I gazed back at Shane. Suddenly, I realized my dad was sticking his hand out to save Shane and not me at all. I stepped closer to Shane and smiled at him.

  A woman screamed as I stood on my tiptoes and lifted my lips to meet his. As we kissed, the world shattered into a million pieces. The warmth and realness of his face was close to mine.

  “Aimee, you have to wake up,” the soft voice I knew so well whispered.

  I woke startled, wrapped in my own embrace as beads of sweat soaked me. I had fallen asleep in my clothes again. I sat upright and pulled my sweater off. The night air brushed over my skin. I glanced around, dazed and expecting to see someone else in the room. I was certain a voice had woken me. I was certain it was my mother.

  Perhaps it had been her, finally trying to talk to me. Something about the dream always haunted me. I wished it would go away, but at least it allowed me to see his face—all their faces.

  I rolled onto my back as I slipped off my jeans and pulled the blankets around me. The enveloping darkness was a warm comfort inside my bed.

  I fell back to sleep, dreaming of him again.

  The End

  Or rather the beginning.

  Volume Two

  Chapter 1

  This brings new meaning to deserted

  Ari

  “Grab plates, Ari. Jesus. What’s with you today? You okay?”

  “Whatever.” I glanced back, sliding a hot middle finger up my sweaty cheek.

  “Wow.” Cookie rolled his eyes at my not-so-subtle way of flipping him off. “Nice, kid.” As I grabbed the plates for Table 8 and walked out of the kitchen, he flinched. “Those plates are hot. They’ve been under the salamander too long waiting for your slow ass to deliver the food.”

  “It’s fine.” I shrugged it off. “Doesn’t hurt at all.”

  “Holy hell. Someone finally got her work calluses. Only took you five years.” He laughed.

  I stuck out my tongue at him and headed for the smelly men who’d ordered the greasy plates of food. As I laid the dishes with a thump, I realized Cookie was right. I wasn’t in my zone at all today. On my way back to the kitchen, I paused for a second and rolled my shoulders and neck, closing my eyes for one breath. I ignored everything around me, finding my place—the place where I blocked my brain and let myself get into my flow.

  I wasn’t always the nicest waitress, but I was usually the best as far as efficiency went. I always had the largest section, the most patrons, and the least screw-ups as Cookie so blatantly put it. It never mattered how many there were, every order was correct. Most importantly, everyone got hot food and no one had a half-empty cup.

  But today was harder, for whatever reason. I needed to blank out and just do my job.

  Not even thinking about it, I kicked back into gear. I grabbed a fork from the basket, carrying it across the room, stopping on the way to pour a cup of coffee for a lady. A small boy dropped his fork just as I finished filling the cup. I passed the utensil to the little boy, winking at him before his parents even noticed.

  Had anyone watched me closely enough, they would�
��ve seen a pattern in everything I did. I called it instincts but Cookie called me the kitchen witch.

  “Morning, Ari.”

  “Morning, Mayor.” I poured him a cup of coffee. “The usual?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Only new patrons needed a menu in my section, and even then I could always guess what they wanted, before they saw the menu. Hence the term “kitchen witch.”

  But honestly, it was practice being made into perfection. Throughout high school I worked after school and all summer in my uncle Vince’s café, or roadside diner, depending on who you asked. He wasn’t a Southerner and preferred the word café, but in New Mexico diner was a better fit.

  At first I’d hated the café but eventually it became a second home and each patron and coworker became family.

  It was the lowest maintenance job a teenaged girl could ask for. I didn’t have to be anything but what I was. We didn’t dress up; we slung hash in the sweaty desert. No one noticed attractiveness so I didn’t have to impress anyone. The work was hard and long, just as the days were. Intensely hot days and harshly cold nights—just how I liked it.

  “You going to school this year?” the mayor asked as I delivered his eggs over easy with extra-buttered white toast, three sausages, and three marmalade packets.

  “No. No need for a fancy city education, Mr. Mayor. I have all I need here.” I held my hands out, smiling.

  “We need to put that on the town’s brochure.” He laughed, taking his first bite. “You know, maybe some community college courses would help you pick what you want to do for a living.”

  “I guess.” I shrugged. “But I’ve got a living for now. I don’t want to waste money just to go when I don’t know what I want to be yet.”

  “I suppose that’s wise. You’ve always been smarter than most kids your age.”

  “It’s not smarter, it’s disciplined.” I laughed. “Most kids don’t have an uncle riding their butt 24/7.” I walked away before anything else could be said.