Kissed by Smoke
Page 20
“My name’s Brett Hollis,” he said, taking a bite of his doughnut. “And you’re Vale. What an awesome name. Is there a story there?”
“Not really, just hippie parents.” I shook my head, chugging some more coffee. “God, this stuff is good. Is it actually brewed?”
He laughed, and I liked it, a low rumble that I felt in my chest. I also liked the comfortable way he slouched in his chair, one ankle crossed to rest on his knee. His polo shirt wasn’t tucked into his waistband, earning him many brownie points in my fashion book. “Yeah, I have my own drip pot. It’s hard to find good coffee in this country, even I can admit that. Where are you from?”
“A tiny town in Mississippi called Frog Lick, about an hour from Jackson.” He burst out laughing, and I gave him a sheepish look. “No, really, that’s its name. A little bit of nowhere.”
“From one small unknown town to another, eh? I’ve lived here all my life. What brought you here?” He had powdered sugar on his top lip. It was precious.
“A dart,” I answered through a mouthful of doughnut.
He questioned me with his eyes, chewing.
I smiled, swallowing before I answered. “I saved money for five years to get out of Frog Lick. Bagging groceries,” I rolled my eyes. “One day, I threw a dart at a map and it landed on Quicksilver.”
“Brave,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me.
“Or insane, if you’re my mother,” I laughed. I was silent for a minute, the doughnut sticky between my fingers. Last night came back in a rush. “What’s up with the curfew? I mean, I’d never heard of it before Jordan dumped it in my lap. And there were weird noises…” I trailed off, wondering if he would think I was crazy.
I’d struck a nerve. An almost imperceptible stiffness took his back, before he relaxed and took another sip of coffee, licking his perfect pink lips. “It’s not so much a curfew, Vale. Did he tell you nothing about it?”
I met his inky eyes, and they were full of worry. “No, he just told me to stay inside and gave me instructions for the temple.”
“That guy’s such a wanker.” Brett took a deep breath, putting his Styrofoam cup back on the desk. He may have been staring at the surveillance screens, but he wasn’t seeing them. “Have you ever heard of the Wild Hunt?”
It sounded vaguely familiar from years of listening to witchy-babble from my parents. “Maybe. Isn’t it a myth?”
He nodded. “A group of souls led by a lesser deity that pillages the countryside in the guise of a hunting party. Hounds from hell, horses with fire in their eyes. Anyone who sees them gets taken to join the party.” His voice was hollow, full of old pain. There was another story there that he wasn’t sharing.
“But, it’s just a legend,” I argued, my eyes searching his face.
“No, it’s not.” The words fell flat between us, his dark eyes sparking as they caught mine. He dropped one boot to the floor, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees. He stared at the dirty concrete floor, avoiding my gaze. “It’s very real.”
I scooted my chair back, abandoning my doughnut to the desk. The fluorescent lights above us made my hands look sallow, and I prayed it wasn’t doing the same to the rest of me. “Legends aren’t real. They’re made up by men who are looking to entertain themselves and control others.”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Quicksilver is one of many small towns in the country that have been targeted by the Hunt. They ride each night between midnight and three. They take anyone who sees them, any dog who crosses beneath them, any horse left in the fields. It’s for our own safety that we remain inside, doors locked, and curtains closed.”
I wanted to laugh, but he looked so serious. Relaxing back in his chair, he brushed his hands through his hair. “If you don’t believe me, pick up the newspaper when you get home.”
“I will,” I said, taking the last bite of my doughnut and getting to my feet. He threw me a set of keys.
“It’s a piece of crap, but it drives. I’ll see you in twenty four hours.”
I took his ancient Renault to headquarters by following his own GPS system, wondering if he’d named it, and also wondering if I’d ruined any chance of a romance between us. He was utterly scrumptious. The no-nonsense British voice of male persuasion took me to a nondescript black glass building with a postage stamp parking lot lit very well by floodlights.
Right inside the front doors, a mousy brunette receptionist gave me a welcoming smile. She was a tiny thing, engulfed by the round wooden desk behind which she perched, her neck craned to see me over the counter. Only the high, teased section of hair on top of her head was visible from the door. Her dress suit was bright red, as was her lipstick. Not a look I could ever pull off, but she looked very Jackie O. “Can I help you?”
I dangled Brett’s keys. “I’m Vale Avari. Do I leave the car keys with you?”
“Oh! Vale! It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Katherine!” She stood, reaching across the counter to shake my hand. She had a chirpy, bird-like voice. I instinctively liked her. “Yes, you leave the keys for the next shift with me. Just sign the log right here, and you’re good to go!”
As she settled back down, I scrawled my name on the dotted line and dropped the keys in the basket, where mine were waiting. My Hello Kitty charm smiled benignly up at me. I bet Jordan loved it. “Thanks.”
“How was your first night?” Katherine inquired, squeaking back into her chair, the sound loud enough to make my ears bleed. She smoothed her fitted suit skirt to her bottom before sitting, a show of feminine decorum that I never would have practiced in my life.
“It was interesting,” I answered honestly with a grim smile, hula-hooping my keys around a finger and turning to leave. “Thanks.” Katherine nodded politely, her vacant smile making me think there wasn’t a whole lot going on behind her pale green eyes.
I’ve been known to be wrong.
Find “The Temple” at Smashwords!
Table of Contents
Kissed by Smoke
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
A Bonus Short Story
About the Author
Other Books by Shéa MacLeod
An Excerpt…
Chapter 1
Chapter 2