I knew going home would do me no good. My mother would be there with the possibility of more expected conversations and I had my fill of talking to people. I drove without really knowing where I was going, mostly just going through the motions, and eventually found myself, unsurprisingly, at the bookstore. I loved this place. It was huge with a coffee shop on the first floor full of my people, coffee drinkers and readers. I hurried inside, ducking my head against the rain and dodging the puddles. Inside I took a deep breath, enjoying the combination of smells of fresh brewed coffee and paper.
I made my way over to the wall of journals and diaries first. I had reached the last page of my journal last night with an unusually long poem in another bout of sleepless hours. I took my time browsing through the different covers before examining a couple, lined pages or blank, off white or white, leather or linen. Eventually I decided on a beautiful green leather bound journal with an interesting Celtic knot-work design embossed on the cover.
I went upstairs, past the Non-Fiction/Fantasy section, and went straight to the New Age/Occult shelves. At times like these it was nice to be a teenager; most people just shook their heads when they saw someone my age in this section, thinking we were just trying to be different. I pulled a few different books on herb lore, Celtic deities, and potion making before going back downstairs, getting a coffee, and settling into a table tucked into a far corner. No one really cares what anyone else is reading, but I didn't want to invite any questioning looks or whispers I was sure to feel.
I pulled out my old journal and set it next to my new one, intending to copy down a blessing I had inscribed on the inside cover in my new journal when the chair across from me slid out and Jensen sat down, leaning back and crossing his right ankle over his left knee. I knew it was him without having to look.
Everyone gives off emotion, even if it’s just a sense of existing. Everyone except Jensen. One of the things that had been bothering me about him was that I couldn't read him, no matter how hard I tried. It was like he knew what I did and was blocking me from being able to do so. It was a void in the back of my mind, like walking into a room but forgetting why I'd gone in there. So I knew he had shields around him that were so strong I was surprised he had any energy left over to so much as walk around.
I sat there, pen poised over the blank page, my left hand on top of my old journal, not yet having opened it, Thank God, and tried not to look at him. He sniffed quietly, waiting politely for me to acknowledge him. I steeled myself, chewing the inside of my cheek self-consciously, and finally looked up at him. I had never seen him this close up before. From a distance I had already noticed the piecing blue of his eyes, but here, feet apart, with the perfect creamy complexion of his skin, offset by the dark, chestnut hair, they took on a blue that I had never seen before. They were slightly gray near the pupils and gradually became darker until they were the perfect shade of sapphire. I had a moment to think of the fairytales from my childhood as I sank into the unusual color of his eyes before he spoke.
"Hello," he said casually and I realized, with a start, that I hadn't yet heard the sound of his voice and I knew right then in that simple word that I'd always know it.
"Hello." I was grateful to hear how steady my voice was, almost aloof even. He had an annoying half grin on his face and that damn eyebrow was raised, shattering the trance I nearly fell into. That was enough to give me some of my nerve back. I was tired of being stared at by this guy like an exhibit at the zoo.
He continued to stare evenly at me, keeping the half grin hitched on his face, breathing calmly, apparently waiting for me to continue the conversation. I was not going to give him the satisfaction. I knew it had only been a few brief moments but in any good stare down those few moments stretch into sudden infinity. I was not going to break the silence. I was happy to watch his face gradually fall and lose his confidence.
Finally he shifted in his seat, uncrossing his legs, and leaned over the table, picking up one of my books at random and examining the cover. I was overwhelmingly aware of the sound of my breath inside my head, like a growing wave waiting for the inevitable crash. "Hmmm," he muttered, both eyebrows raised, and he nodded slightly. "Interesting reading," he said, almost a question.
"Ok," If he could be brief, so could I.
"You’re reading about Celtic deities? I thought we were studying US History this term?” He flipped the book open and shuffled through some pages. He didn’t really expect me to respond, so I didn’t.
“Ah, Morrigan, now you remind me a little of her,” he said, looking up at me with a smile. I blinked stupidly at him. Morrigan was one of my favorite Celtic deities but I had never been compared to her. “You know, the three faces?” he pressed.
“Ok,” I said again. I just couldn’t help myself. Morrigan was believed to be The Crone, The Mother, and The Maiden – the three stages of a woman’s life. So of course any woman could be her; she was all of us all at once.
“Are you Celtic?” he asked and for the first time I heard a hint of uncertainty in his voice. I furrowed my brow and decided to try and read him again, but as I reached out towards him the void in the back of my mind came back tenfold and the edges of my vision went blurry. Jensen took in a sharp breath and sat back for a moment, only relaxing again when I pulled my energy back. Yeah, he so knew what I was doing.
He pursed his lips at me, considering my silence and nodded at something he seemed to be thinking about. I expected him to say something about what had just passed between us, but, amazingly, he just reached out for the herb lore book. I had the urge to slide the potion-making book under my new journal, but I knew there was no point in hiding it. He had obviously already seen all three and was probably building up to that book.
"Herb lore?” He let his voice trail off, opening the book and flipping through a few pages, pausing a couple of times to read a passage.
“Now this definitely isn’t for History. Maybe Home Ec?” He was teasing me; there was even a glint in his eye!
“Home Ec, sure,” I agreed.
“You know, I wouldn’t tell anyone if you want to be straight with me,” he said in a low voice, forgetting the book as he leaned towards me.
What did he expect me to say? Oh yes, Jensen, I spend my Friday nights brewing potions over a cauldron and my Saturday nights calling the corners with my two best friends so we can cast magic spells. Oh I have the ability to make earthquakes happen. How do you spend your weekends?
“Ok, fine,” he said, sitting back in his chair and forgetting the third book on the table. “I just saw you sitting here by yourself and thought I’d join you. Introduce myself.” He paused, gathering himself he said, “I don’t think you like me much.”
"What do you care what I think of you? We don't even know each other,” I finally said.
"That's a very good point and an even better question." He tilted his head, glancing around the store. That lock of hair I had admired in math class came loose again and fell over his forehead, nearly brushing his eyelashes. I realized I was staring. Gathering myself, I grabbed the books and stacked them on top of each other, being sure to place the new journal on top, and slid my old journal back into my purse.
"Well, do you have a good answer for it then?" I was in better control of myself now, having gotten past the most uncomfortable portion of the meeting – him seeing the books I was reading.
"You know, I don't think I do. Funny isn't it?"
"What's funny?"
"It seemed so important that we meet and that you have a better impression of me and I don't know why." He sounded like this was a very interesting science project he was studying. I felt my eyebrows contract and I shook my head. I was caught in some stupid mind game, just like the staring at the school. He didn’t have a crush on me, as I had secretly hoped. He had abilities and could tell I did too and was probably testing me. I felt my temper rising at my stupidity. And since I didn’t recognize his, I knew there would be nothing lost staying away from him.
<
br /> "Well, if that's all, then I think mission accomplished," I stood up, forgetting my now cold coffee and started reaching for my books when he put a hand on top of them, stopping me from picking them up. "What?" I demanded, loud enough to cause some of the nearby people to look over at me.
"How is it accomplished?"
"I have a much better impression of you now." Not that it was a better impression as in good; it was just more defined now.
"Somehow that doesn't sound flattering." He was inside my head. Instinctively I drew my shields in tighter around me and they practically vibrated with the extra energy pulsing into them. As if he could see an actual change in my appearance, he tilted his head to the side and squinted, looking at me but not seeming to see me. That was enough for me. I pushed his hand off of my books and clutched them to my chest.
"Take it any way you want, doesn't make any difference to me." I turned to leave and I saw his hand reaching out to stop me. "Any part of you that touches me, you won’t be getting back." His hand dropped back to the table and he let me pass. I walked directly to the serpentine checkout line and grabbed a new bookmark without really looking at it, even though I probably had a hundred of them at home.
I got through the checkout process relatively quickly and rushed out the door. My sanctuary was befouled and I was in no mood to dawdle, but as I pushed the door open to the foyer I saw just beyond the outer door there stood Jensen. He was waiting causally with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket. Damnit. I was being tormented like a five-year-old in kindergarten.
I took a steadying breath and pushed the door open to a gush of cold evening air that swirled around me, lifting my hair up and away from my face and shoulders. Surprisingly enough, Jensen didn't turn to face me, so I walked deliberately past him and into the parking lot, keys already in hand.
"Hey, that’s not how I hoped that would go." He was next to me faster than I expected. All of my internal alarms sounding in my head almost deafened me.
"Ok," I said, no inflection in my voice, not wanting to invite any more conversation.
"So I'd like to rectify that."
"Well, we don't always get what we want," I said as I realized, a few feet away from my car, that I was leading him straight to it. If he was as creepy as he was coming across, he'd have the perfect opportunity to ambush me and speed away with me and my car. I stopped suddenly, rounding on him. He was quicker than most guys, he didn't stumble or skid to a halt; he merely finished his last step and turned on the spot to look at me.
"So let’s just come to an understanding that you wanted to meet me, didn't know how to go about it in any other way than creepy and things didn't go so well. Too bad. Let’s get on with our lives." I waved my hand dismissively, making my keys jingle.
"You don't want me near your car." It wasn't a question.
"I don't normally like strange guys to follow me to my car in a dark parking lot when no one’s around. So, if you don't mind, I have a feeling you're not parked anywhere around here and the store is back that way." I motioned over my shoulder in the direction of the bookstore, but he didn't move to leave.
"I wouldn't do anything to you."
"Ok."
"You say that a lot."
"Ok." He actually laughed. It was warm and full of emotion and his eyes glittered in the wet air. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to keep my mouth shut. I had gained some ground and didn’t want to lose it.
"Ok." He nodded, again seeming like he had decided on something in his mind. "Ok, for now. I'll let you get into your car with piece of mind, but I will make a better impression.”
Before I could argue with him he walked past me back to the bookstore. I didn't want to look over my shoulder and watch him go. I didn't want him to catch me looking again so I stood there, counting to thirty before I walked to my car. My hair was weighted down with the slow steady rain and I threw my bags inside. As I rounded in front of the store on my way out of the parking lot, I was sure I caught the blurred outline of a tall, lean man with dark hair watching me drive away.
***
"Tuesdays aren't supposed to be so crappy!" I complained on the phone to Jodi, lying on my bed, covers over my head. I still believed in the magical protection of covers; so long as you don't come out, the monster can’t get you.
"Tuesdays are the worst day of the week." Jodi said matter-of-factly. "Think about it, people think Monday's suck because it’s the new week, but you still have the high and energy from the weekend. Wednesdays let you know you're half way through the week, Thursdays mean it’s almost over, and Fridays it is over. But Tuesdays," she drew out the word, "Tuesdays mean the week just started and you've still got a ways to go."
"Yeah, you've got a point," I muttered into my pillow.
"So seriously, he didn't talk to you all day even though Steven and I were gone but he followed you to the bookstore?"
"I don't know if he actually followed me there, but yeah he was there."
"Dude, he followed you there." Jodi's voice sounded bright yellow again. She was very possessive of her friends. It was a very difficult balancing act for her to have both me and Steven be as close to each other as we were to her, but when an outsider came near us, she was a tigress protecting her territory.
"Yeah... he did. Isn't that strange though?" I rolled over onto my side; taking care to be sure the covers didn't slip from my head. "Who talks like that? And what the hell does he want?"
“I don't know...” she said distractedly. “And he didn't mention yesterday afternoon and the whole parking lot thing?”
“Not once.”
"Did you give him a chance?" Jodi asked, a faint accusation in the back of her question.
"Oh yeah. I asked him what the big deal us meeting was and he said he didn't know. He even said it was funny that he couldn't think of why it was important that we meet or what I thought of him."
"Hmmm..." She considered that for a minute, I didn't press her for her thoughts. "I think maybe Steven and I ought to be on stalker watch."
"Oh, I doubt that's necessary," I protested.
"Honey, please.” Jodi listed off the evidence. “He spends the better part of three classes staring at you. He showed up at the bookstore when no one knew you were gonna be there. He felt the need to make a better impression on you but was a total creep when doing it and then tried to follow you out to your car."
"Ok, well when you say it like that, in a tone like that, any guy would sound like a maniac."
"Ok, then how else would you say it?"
“Yeah.” I sighed heavily, suddenly wanting out of this conversation and off the phone. “Gah! Whatever, it doesn’t really matter, does it? I can’t even imagine a stalker trying again after that.”
“We'll see,” she said darkly.
“Probably just some lame warlock,” I muttered.
“That’s harsh.”
“I don’t think so. I mean I can’t read him empathically, he knows when I’m trying to, and if he didn’t have anything to hide, why not just let me read him?”
“True,” Jodi said slowly.
“Hey, I'm gonna be blessing Steven's cousin's room this weekend, wanna help?” One change of subject, coming right up!
“Sure. Think he got the rain water?”
“He better've. But if he didn’t, I did put a bowl outside,” I admitted.
"The control freak took precautions? Shocker," she teased.
"Shut up," I sat up, pulling the covers from my head. "See you at 7:40?"
"Yep!"
"Night." We hung up and I knew Jodi would be calling Steven immediately to inform him of her version of the story about the bookstore. It would come across much worse than it was and by the end Jensen would've been foaming at the mouth and refusing to let me leave.
I looked at the clock and saw that it was only ten o'clock. I knew sleep was just a wishful thought at this point so I grabbed my two journals off my bedside table and placed them on the bed in front of me. I
set to copying down the blessing I hadn’t had a chance to do earlier.
I finished the last few words and sealed the cover with a pentagram I drew on with my right forefinger and closed both books. I set them aside and pulled out a novel I had been trying to get through and settled into my pillows.
***
I was running again, not understanding how I got to this damn forest. I was afraid to look down, knowing my chest must be drenched in blood because it just wasn’t possible that my lungs hadn’t torn open by now. I could hear my labored breathing in my ears, pulsing harder and faster than the beat of my heart. I screamed at myself that I was asleep and just needed to wake up to get out of this, but I could not stop to wake myself up. Instinctively I dodged to the right, knowing that root I had tripped over before was just ahead.
Thankfully, I made it past that tree without any other trouble, but then I felt the earth tremble beneath me and my feet slipped on the loose rocks. I scrambled, my hands clawing at the ground, kicking leaves and dirt behind me, desperately trying to regain my footing before I fell on the dirt floor. I heard it behind me, gaining speed and suddenly felt a wave of extreme joy pass over me that had nothing to do with my panicked mind. It had caused me to stumble; it knew this earth like I didn’t and it was reaching for me again. I felt the searing cold claws touch my back and tried to scream out, only to have my voice silenced in my throat. My mouth opened, but I couldn’t scream and now I couldn’t run. I reached out again, trying to grab hold of anything to pull myself away and my fingers closed around someone’s hand, whose fingers were like iron bars around my hand. I looked up into the face of a man with fathomless blue eyes.
“Hurry,” Jensen’s voice echoed through my head and he pulled me to my feet, wrenching me forward and away from the raking claws tearing at my back.
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