"Oh, Jason,” she whispered. “I wish you were here.” She squeezed the rings tightly together until she felt the tiny diamonds press into her flesh. Without opening her eyes, she unhooked the clasp and put the necklace on.
The chain and rings were now warm against her chest as she slipped them into her blouse, out of sight. She pressed her hand over them, over her heart.
A sudden knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts and Rose's eyes flew open.
"Rose?” Cheyenne asked tentatively. Quickly, Rose wiped her eyes and face but it was useless. She would know she was crying.
"I'm all right,” she called, a little too quickly.
"Okay,” Cheyenne answered, a little dubiously. “Can I come in? I found the comforter."
Rose took one more useless wipe at her eyes. “Yeah."
The door opened slowly and Cheyenne walked in, carrying a thick and heavy-looking blue comforter. She sat it on the end of the bed beside Rose and looked at her. “You've been crying."
Rose sighed, defeated before she even had a chance to say anything. “Yeah, I seem to do that a lot lately."
"Do you need anything?” Cheyenne pushed the duffel bag aside and sat beside her. “If you need to talk—"
"No, I'm fine. I cried it out,” Rose answered quickly. “I'm just really tired.” She looked past Cheyenne to the window. The edges of the curtains were lightening. The sun would be rising soon. “It's almost sunup. I think we should get some sleep."
"Yeah,” Cheyenne agreed, but she was reluctant to move. She sat there, looking at Rose for a while.
"I'm fine, really.” She found she couldn't meet Cheyenne's gaze, knowing it was a sure sign she was uncomfortable. Rose made herself look as if it were intentional by rummaging around in the duffel bag some more. She found her cell phone and the charger.
By the time she had the cord out, Cheyenne had moved from the bed. “There's an outlet beside the bed. Want me to get it for you?"
Rose looked in the direction she pointed and nodded. There was no way she was going to be able to bend with her pregnant belly to reach it. She handed over the phone and charger and Cheyenne dutifully plugged it in. She laid the charging phone on the dresser top and turned to face Rose.
"I know something's bothering you and it's not just what happened today. It's something more than that. There's something you're not telling me."
Rose took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Cheyenne, I'm tired. I don't want to talk about anything. I want to sleep,” she insisted.
"All right, yeah. I get it. I won't bug you about it.” Rose opened her eyes to find Cheyenne grinning. “So no worries."
"Thanks,” Rose muttered. She managed a smile, but it was half-hearted. She glanced toward her duffel bag and its strewn contents. “Can I use your washer later to do a few loads?"
"Yeah. You don't have to ask. This place is as much your home, as it is mine. I'll show you were it is later. For now, let's both get some sleep."
Rose only nodded. She was very tired and the bed she sat on was soft and very inviting. She wanted to sleep for as long as she could, without dreams, without worries.
"Goodnight. If you need anything, I'm upstairs, last door on the left."
"Okay. Goodnight. Could you shut the light off on your way out?"
Cheyenne nodded and flipped the switch. The room was immersed in darkness and it took only a second or two for Rose's night vision to kick in. Cheyenne remained by the door, hesitating. She finally left, shutting the door softly behind her.
Alone again, Rose looked around the sparsely decorated room. She touched the chain at her throat, following its path to the bulge of rings beneath her blouse, between her breasts. She thought of Jason again, wondering where he was, what he was doing.
Her gaze fell on the window. Slowly she stood, feeling a dull throb start in her back, and wobbled her way to the window. She pulled open the curtains and peered out at the rolling hills. Far into the distance was a line of trees, dark and shadowy in the pre-dawn light. At least it was a nice view.
Rose unlocked the window and pulled it open. A cool, fragrant breeze seeped in and she sighed as it touched her skin. It smelled of earth and freshly cut grass.
Carefully, Rose edged her way back to the bed and pulled the straps so that the duffel bag fell to the floor with a thud. She left it there and spread out the comforter, moving slowly. She folded the corner down and sat.
It was difficult for her to unlace her shoes once her belly grew, so Rose had taken to wearing slip-on tennis shoes and sandals. She slipped them off and lay back on the bed. She adjusted the pillows and turned over onto her side.
Her hand automatically went to her necklace, cupping the rings in her palm tightly. She closed her eyes, squeezing out the tears she had been forced to stop when Cheyenne entered. They came now, rolling down her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. They fell on her hand and wrist and Rose didn't brush them away.
She cried her silent tears until she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the past.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Sixteen
Amelia sat across from him, her arms folded on the table and her head resting in the crook of her arm. Her vibrant red hair spilled across the table, the curls just within touching distance.
But Jason didn't reach for them. He didn't need to touch her to know she was real, that she was here. He watched her for a long time as she lay there, then turned his attention away and looked out the window.
Lex and Toby were gone. They had taken the earliest bus they could after getting some supplies with Jason's money. They bought the tickets, with Amelia using her mind mojo to alter the memories of the ticket clerks.
It was Jason who decided they should take separate buses. The next wouldn't arrive for another hour and that left them in a bit of a bind. He thought of just walking, but thought their chances better with a set of wheels.
He didn't like the idea of waiting, not with someone possibly tracking them. He and Amelia would just have to wait, like it or not.
But they still had half an hour and, as he watched for the bus to arrive, he watched for any sign that Quenten and his goons may be out there. So far, there was nothing. They were in the free and clear.
He knew they wouldn't be for long.
The gun he had swiped from the goon earlier was hidden in the waistband of his jeans. He would use it if he had to, but he hoped it wouldn't come to it. He wanted the bus to get here and be gone, with them on it. He wanted to be gone long before the sun came up.
Amelia stirred across from him and Jason turned his attention to her. She pulled herself to an upright position, blinking away the tiredness from her green eyes. They had exchanged the noticeable hospital gown for decent clothes. The shop was slim in its selection, but she wasn't nearly as conspicuous in an oversized sweater, blue shorts and sandals. She looked at him with her piercing gaze, but Jason didn't flinch away, at least not immediately.
He did look away, allowing his gaze to travel the café. The diner looked very similar to the one where he had met his father. It seemed a strange coincidence that, years later, he would be sitting in a similar place with his mother across from him.
Trying not to think about that night years ago, or anything similar, he searched the place for a waitress. He needed a drink.
He would rather have alcohol but a hot cup of black coffee would suffice. He flagged a blonde haired waitress over and she happily skipped over, pad in hand.
"Can I get a cup of coffee?"
"No problem.” She scribbled it on her pad. She looked to Amelia. “And what for you?"
Amelia just shook her head.
"All right, I'll bring the coffee right out.” The waitress smiled and turned, her blonde curls flouncing as she spun away. Jason watched until she was gone then turned back to Amelia.
"You should've ordered something."
"I'm not hungry."
"Even if you're not. You almost passed out back ther
e.” Jason lowered his voice to a whisper. “Hell, you did pass out. You need to eat something."
Amelia chuckled. “I'm feeling much better, really. There's a way one can become energized that doesn't involve nourishment from food. I can draw energy from the earth and trees, from people and animals."
"That's what you did with us, wasn't it?” Jason remembered the buzz of energy and the feeling of it being drawn from him. He felt a little cold thinking on it.
"Yes, in a sense. In that case, I didn't use the energy for myself. I expanded it into a malleable force. In normal circumstances, I would just take the energy into myself and use it in a spell or to affect some positive change."
"So you're a witch,” Jason scoffed. He looked away from her. The waitress was heading their way, with a cup and a pot of coffee. They were both silent while she poured the cup and left. Jason watched until she was gone then looked back to Amelia.
She was staring at him again, her green eyes seeming to glow. “Yes. I guess you could say I'm a witch. I have extraordinary powers and abilities, much like your own."
"I'm not a witch."
"No, but you are descended from a line of them. My mother was a witch and her mother before her. My sister and I—"
"Listen,” Jason said an edge in his voice. “I know what I am. I know I have some psychic abilities and I know I got them from you. I don't need an explanation about that. I don't care about your mother, or your sister. What I care about is finding out about Quenten and about why you were there."
Amelia was silent for a moment, just staring at him. She exhaled, her nostrils flaring. Then she answered. “I think you do want an explanation. It's why you came to me. It's why you answered my call."
The steam from his coffee warmed his face as he leaned forward. He tried to restrain the anger he felt rising with him, but knew his voice betrayed him.
"I didn't answer your call because of that,” he said in a low tone. “I answered because some fucked-up little voice in my head told me to."
"And why do you think that voice told you to do it?” Amelia asked her tone soft. Jason sensed she was mocking him with her question, so he didn't answer right away. He pulled back and took hold of his steaming mug. He took a drink of the scalding liquid, forcing himself to swallow it.
"You don't have an answer for it,” Amelia said. She sounded sad. She even sighed, letting her gaze drift toward the window. “There is so much you don't know."
She closed her eyes. Before Jason could protest, she began again.
"You need explanations and answers. I know you do because I too have a little voice that tells me things. The little voice is your intuition and more often than not, it's right. You can choose to listen to me, or you can get up and walk away. The choice is yours. If you stay, I promise you some of the things you hear will not be easy to stomach."
She paused and turned her head to him. Her eyes opened, regarding him compassionately. Jason felt a strange urge to listen to her, and he wondered if she were altering his thoughts. He shook his head, but Amelia went on.
"Before you ask, I'm not doing anything to your mind. I'm not like Quenten.” When Jason looked at her, Amelia hurriedly added, “I didn't read your mind, I just guessed."
Jason was skeptical, but he said nothing. There was something else he was thinking about. As much as he wanted answers, he wasn't ready to talk. They needed to talk, but not here, not in some partially crowded cafe with everyone listening.
"Amelia—"
She held up a hand. “Let me finish, Jason, please. The choice is yours on whether you listen to me or not."
"Believe me, I want my questions answered, but this is not the time or the place."
Amelia stared at him for a long, tense moment. Her gaze was stern and Jason felt his own gaze draw away. Finally, she spoke and he looked back at her once more.
"We've both waited long enough. This is as good a time or place as any.” Her whispered voice sent shivers throughout his body. Her gaze burned into him. Jason knew somehow she wouldn't back down. He was defeated and he didn't like it.
He braced himself for what she was about to say with a deep breath. He held it as she began to talk, her voice hushed.
* * * *
* * * *
"As I said before, my mother was a powerful witch and her mother before her and so on, as back as far as she could trace. Not everyone in the family was a witch, but they all possessed a level of power that some of them chose to ignore.
"My mother wasn't like that. She raised my sister and me, to the objection of discreet family members, in the ways of the Craft. I caught on quickly, finding myself quite adept in my abilities, while my sister had the talent but not the drive.
"In any case, it was in our blood. It was who we are and we were proud of it, for the most part.
"When I was eighteen, I left home to venture out on my own. I held down a few odd dead end jobs but nothing of any substance ... that was until I discovered a new project, just recently started. It was the Paranormal Research and Development Institute.
"The PRDI was just starting out. Their goal was to help those of supernatural origin find their place in the world, to learn of their abilities and function in normal society. I had lived in normal society well enough for my entire life. I knew how to function in society, and remain as myself without hiding, without fear. I wanted to help others achieve this as well.
"So I signed on as a member. After a short while, I was promoted to instructor. I was there for many years, teaching and helping others. I had found something I enjoyed, something that gave meaning to my life. I was content there.
"While I was there, I learned more of my abilities, things my mother had never learned and therefore could not teach me. I learned of energy manipulation and how to take energy and use it for the purpose of good.
"My powers became stronger, but I was not swayed to use them for evil purposes, as others had fallen into, but I knew it existed. I stayed away from the dark magick.
"Dark magick was once said to be its greatest during the dark moon. It's been so long since I've seen the outside world.” Amelia sighed and shook her head. “But I knew the tidings of the moon by tuning in with the energies around me as I had learned to do. I knew it was near the dark moon, the new moon, before I even called out to you.
"But dark magick isn't ruled by the dark moon. It's ruled by a dark heart. The dark moon is a time of change and renewal. And it was definitely time for change, for escape.
"I know—I'm getting off topic. Forgive me. I only tell you this so you can understand when—well, let me go on.
"I was at the PRDI for many years and I learned many things. During my stay there I met Joshua Conner—your father.
"I had encountered werewolves long before I had come to the PRDI—my mother had been briefly married to a full-blood, resulting in my sister being born a half-blood—so meeting his kind was nothing new. I worked with them all the time. In fact, Gavin Newark was second in command and he was a full-blood. I don't know if you ever met him or not...
"Anyway, Joshua Conner wasn't by any means the man of my dreams. It was a meeting of convenience you could say. I cared about him, possibly even loved him at one point, but there was no future for us. We were too far apart, too different.
"He didn't think that way though. He wanted us to have a family, to be together. I guess I wanted it a little too, but I was more realistic.
"In any case, we had a few moments together, gave into mutual desire and I became pregnant. I was shocked, overwhelmed. Neither of us knew what to do. Josh insisted we keep the child and I agreed. I wasn't about to give up my baby, or have an abortion. I couldn't give up the life inside me. It wasn't something I could do.
"I wasn't very far along when everything exploded in our faces. I remember it, as if it were yesterday...
"I was standing in the PRDI library, looking out the window at the ground below. I was wondering what it would be like to have someone else to take care of
besides myself when a splitting pain in my head crippled me. I remember it took my breath away and I fell forward, grabbing hold of the window sill. I fell against the glass, lucky it didn't break open.
"I had had visions before, but never one quite like this. The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt before. Through it, I saw a man in a white coat. He was covered in blood, his head thrown back and his mouth open in what I can only describe as a sadistic laugh. I could sense an evil emanating from him and it ripped a new pain through me.
"It was as if I were watching him from across the room. Our eyes met and his burned yellow, golden. His laughter stopped and his lips curled over fanged teeth in a cruel grin.
"I knew his name and knew what he was doing...
"Yes, it was Quenten. I still don't understand how I got this knowledge, but I knew what he was doing. I knew somehow he had injected himself with the blood of werewolves and vampires, witches and psychics. I knew it flowed in his veins.
"I knew he was a scientist. I knew he was doing experiments. I knew he had to be stopped.
"What I didn't know was why. Why was he doing it? The terrible images clung to me, tearing through my head.
"When I came to, I was in the hospital wing of the PRDI. There was a young female doctor there, a new addition to the PRDI. I can't remember her name, but she had the ability to heal and she used it with modern medical practices. She was mentally scanning me when I woke up.
"They told me I had let out a piercing scream. Those within distance came running as soon as they could. They found me on the floor, convulsing. They said my eyes were open, but I was looking at nothing. I just kept shaking and jerking around on the floor.
"They were terrified, not sure what happened. They took me to the hospital wing. I wasn't there fifteen minutes when I came to. The young doctor checked my vital signs, found everything to be in order ... everything but my mind.
"It's still all a bit hazy, but I remember scrambling off the bed. Someone told me I needed to stay calm, for the baby, but I didn't listen. I had to talk to Gavin. Gavin wasn't there, or at least, I didn't see him.
Dark Moon Magick [The Moon Series: Book 4] Page 20