Gathering Darkness: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Anna Zaires

  Mia shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek to avoid bursting into semi-hysterical laughter. The irony of it was that she had actually found such a guy—except he wasn’t human. She wondered what her mom would say if she told her about Korum. He’s great: he loves to cook and even does laundry for us both. Just one tiny issue—he’s a blood-drinking alien. No, that probably wouldn’t go over well at all.

  “Mom, don’t worry about me, okay? Everything will be fine.” At least Mia sincerely hoped that was the case. “We’ll see each other soon, and maybe I’ll really try to learn how to cook this summer. How about that?” Mia gave her mom a big smile, trying to prevent any more lectures.

  Her mom shook her head in reproach and sighed. “Sure. I’ll tell your dad what happened. He’ll be so disappointed . . .”

  Mia felt terrible again. “Where is he?” she asked, wanting to speak to her father as well.

  “He’s out getting the car fixed. The damn thing broke again. We should really get a new one . . . but maybe next year.”

  Mia nodded sympathetically. She knew her parents’ financial situation was not the best these days. Her mom was currently between jobs. As an elementary school teacher, she was usually in demand. However, the private school where she had taught for the past eight years had closed recently, resulting in a number of teachers losing their positions and all applying for the same few openings in the local public schools. Her dad—a political science professor at the local community college—was now supporting the family on his one salary, and they had to be careful with bigger expenses, such as a new car. In general, her family, like many other middle-class Americans with 401(k) retirement plans, had suffered in the K Crash—the huge stock market crash that took place when the Krinar had arrived. At one point, the Dow had lost almost ninety percent of its value, and it was only about a year ago that the markets had recovered fully.

  “All right,” said Mia, “I’ll try to log back in later, see if I can reach dad.”

  “Call Marisa too,” her mom said. “I know she was really looking forward to seeing you on Sunday.”

  Mia nodded. “I will, definitely.”

  Her mom sighed again. “Well, I guess we’ll talk to you soon then.”

  “I love you, mom,” said Mia, feeling like her chest was getting squeezed in a vise. “I hope you know that. You and dad are the best parents ever.”

  “Of course,” her mom said, looking a bit puzzled. “We love you too. Come home soon, okay?”

  “I will,” said Mia, blowing an air kiss toward the computer screen, and ended the conversation.

  Her sister was next. For once, she was actually reachable on Skype.

  “Hey there, baby sis! What’s this text I just got from mom about you not coming home?”

  Mia hadn’t seen her sister since she got pregnant, and she was surprised to see Marisa looking pale and thin, instead of having that pregnancy glow she’d always heard about.

  “Marisa!” she exclaimed. “What’s going on with you? You don’t look well. Are you sick?”

  Her sister made a face. “If you can call having a baby sickness, then yes. I’m throwing up constantly,” she complained. “I just can’t keep anything down. I’ve actually lost five pounds since I got pregnant—”

  Mia gasped in shock. Five pounds was a lot for someone her sister’s size. While a little taller and curvier than Mia, Marisa was also small-boned, with her normal weight hovering somewhere around 110-115 pounds. Now she looked too thin, her cheekbones overly prominent in her usually pretty face.

  “—and my doctor is not happy about that.”

  “Of course, he’s not happy! Did he say what you should do?”

  Marisa sighed. “He said to get more rest and try not to stress. So I am working from home today, preparing my lessons for next week, and they got someone to substitute for me for a few days.”

  “Oh my God, you poor thing,” said Mia sympathetically. “That sucks. Can you eat anything, like maybe crackers or some broth?”

  “That’s what I’m subsisting on these days. Well, that and pickles.” Marisa gave her a wan smile. “For some reason, I can’t stop eating those Israeli pickles—you know, the little crunchy ones?”

  Mia nodded, stifling a grin. Her sister had always been a pickles fan, so it really wasn’t surprising she was going pickle-crazy during her pregnancy.

  “So anyway, enough about my stomach issues . . . What’s going on with you? Why aren’t you coming this Saturday? We were all ready and excited to come over, see you and the parents—”

  Mia took a deep breath and repeated the whole story to Marisa. She was getting so good at lying that she could almost believe herself. Maybe she should think about starting such a program at NYU next year—if she was still alive and attending school at that time, of course.

  Her sister listened to everything with a vaguely disbelieving expression. And then, being Marisa, she asked, “Is the professor cute?”

  To her horror, Mia felt her cheeks turning pink. “What? No! He’s old and has kids and stuff!”

  “Uh-huh,” said Marisa. “So I’m supposed to believe you would be willing to do something like this at the request of an ugly professor? Just to pad your resume a little?” She shook her head slightly. “Nope, I just don’t see it.” A sly smile appearing on her face, she asked, “Just how old is old?”

  Mia cursed her poor acting skills. Now Marisa would probably go blabbing to their parents that Mia had a crush on her professor. She tried to imagine liking Professor Dunkin that way and shuddered. Between his receding hairline and the yellowish spittle that frequently appeared in the corners of his mouth when he spoke, he was probably one of the least attractive individuals she’d ever met.

  “Old,” Mia said firmly. “And unattractive.”

  Marisa grinned, undeterred. “Okay, then, who is he?” she persisted. “I know you, baby sis . . . and you’re hiding something. If it’s not the old and unattractive professor you’re staying in New York for, then who is it?”

  “No one,” said Mia. “There’s no man in my life . . . you know that.” And she wasn’t lying. There wasn’t a human man—just an extraterrestrial of the male variety. Who was also old—a lot older than her sister could imagine.

  “Oh, please, then why are you acting so weird? You’ve been kinda strange for the past month, in fact,” said Marisa, looking at her intently. “Mia . . . is something wrong?”

  Mia shook her head in denial and silently cursed Marisa’s sisterly intuition. It had been so much easier to fool her mom. “No, everything’s fine. It’s just been stressful, you know, with finals and all . . .”

  “Uh-huh,” said Marisa, “you’ve had finals for the past three years, and it’s never been like this. I can see you’re not yourself, Mia. Now fess up . . . what’s happening?”

  Mia shook her head again, and tried putting on a bright smile. “Nothing! I don’t know what you’re talking about—there’s absolutely nothing wrong. I just got a great opportunity to get some valuable work experience, and I am taking advantage of it. I’ll see you soon, just in a couple of weeks. There’s nothing to worry about—”

  “Have you already bought tickets?” interrupted Marisa. “Do you have a set date when you’re flying in?”

  “Not yet,” Mia admitted. “I’ll do that soon. The professor said he’ll buy me a new plane ticket, so there’s nothing to worry about about—”

  “Nothing to worry about? Mia, I know when you’re lying,” said Marisa, giving her a strict look. “You’re terrible at it. You’ve been such a good girl your whole life, you’ve had absolutely no practice deceiving your parents—or me. You’ve never even snuck out to a party in high school . . .”

  Mia bit her lip. How did Marisa get to be so observant? This was a big problem. Maybe if she told her a partial truth . . .

  “Okay,” said Mia, choosing her words carefully. “Let’s say that there’s something to what you’re saying . . . If I tell you, do you promise not to tell th
e parents? They’ll worry, and it’s really not necessary—”

  Marisa looked at her, her blue eyes narrowed in consideration. “Okay,” she said slowly, “you can always talk to me, baby sis, you know that. I’ll keep your secret . . . but only if it’s nothing life-threatening that parents must know about.”

  It actually was something life-threatening, but parents definitely didn’t need to know about that. Mia sighed. Since she started going down this path, she might as well tell her sister something, or else her entire family will be calling in panic within a half-hour.

  Taking a deep breath, Mia said, “You’re right. I did meet someone—”

  “I knew it!” yelled Marisa triumphantly.

  “—and he’s not exactly someone you’d be happy to see me with.”

  Marisa stared at her in surprise. “Why? Who is he? Another student?”

  Mia shook her head. “No, that’s the problem. He’s older, and he’s not exactly first-boyfriend material.”

  “Are we talking about the professor now?” asked Marisa in confusion.

  “No, the professor is just the professor. It’s someone else. He’s actually a senior executive in a tech company,” fibbed Mia, trying to stick as close as possible to the truth. “I met him in the park one day, and we’ve been sleeping together—”

  “What?” Her sister was gaping at her in disbelief. “Is he married? Does he have any children?”

  “No, and no. But I know it’s just a temporary fling for him, so I really didn’t want to go into any details with you and the parents . . .”

  As Mia was speaking, a big smile slowly appeared on Marisa’s face. “A fling? Wow. When my baby sis decides to finally lose her virginity, she does it with style! A senior executive no less . . .”

  Mia shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Uh, I’d rather not say,” mumbled Mia. “He’ll be leaving in a couple of weeks, and there’s no point in discussing the whole thing—”

  “Leaving to go where?”

  “Um . . . Dubai.” Mia had no idea why she’d chosen that particular location, but it seemed to fit the story.

  “Dubai? Is he from there originally?” Her sister’s curiosity knew no bounds.

  Mia sighed. “Marisa, listen, there’s really no point in discussing it. He’ll leave, and that’s that.”

  Her sister cocked her head to the side, studying Mia’s face. “And you’re okay with that, baby sis?” she asked quietly. “Your first lover leaving just like that?”

  Mia looked away, trying to hide the moisture in her eyes. “He has to leave, Marisa. There’s no choice. It doesn’t matter if I’m okay with it or not.”

  “Of course, it matters,” said Marisa. “Do you think he cares for you at all? Or are you just a pretty college girl he’s sleeping with while in New York?”

  Mia shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he might care about me a little.”

  “But not enough to stay?”

  “No, he can’t stay,” said Mia. “And it doesn’t matter. We’re not right for each other, anyway. The relationship was doomed from the start.”

  “Why did you start it then?” asked Marisa, eyeing her with bewilderment. “Is he really good-looking? Did he sweep you off your feet or something?”

  Mia nodded. “He’s gorgeous, and he’s smart, and he knows a lot about everything . . .” Those were all true statements. “And he took me out to all kinds of fancy restaurants and Broadway shows—”

  “Wow, Mia,” said Marisa, looking envious for the first time in Mia’s memory, “that sounds like a dream guy.”

  Mia smiled. “And he’s also a great cook, and does laundry—”

  “Oh my God, where did you find this paragon?”

  “I know, right? Mom would have a cow if she heard about this.”

  And the sisters grinned at each other in perfect understanding.

  Then Marisa got serious again. “So why can’t it work out for the two of you? He sounds perfect. Does he have some major character flaw that you can’t stand?”

  “Well, he’s very bossy and autocratic,” admitted Mia, “so I definitely have a problem with that. And where he comes from, they don’t necessarily view, um, women . . . as equals, if you know what I mean?” That was as close to the truth as she could get.

  Marisa’s eyes widened in understanding. “Ohhh, is he one of those Middle Eastern types? With a harem and all . . . who require their women to be veiled from head to toe?”

  Mia shrugged. “Something like that. So it could never really go anywhere. We come from very different worlds.” Mia meant that in the literal sense, but Marisa didn’t need to know that.

  “Wow, baby sis.” Marisa was looking at her with newfound respect. “I have to say, you’ve surprised me. No boring college boys for you . . . oh, no—you’ve gone straight for the big leagues. A sheikh from Dubai, huh?”

  Mia flushed. “He’s not a sheikh, just an executive.”

  “Wow.” Her sister was still looking impressed. “So did he give you any fancy gifts or jewelry?”

  Mia smiled. Her sister was so predictable sometimes. Even though she lived a simple life for the most part, Marisa definitely appreciated the finer things in life—nice hotels, designer clothes, beautiful accessories.

  “He bought me a whole new wardrobe from Saks Fifth Avenue,” admitted Mia. “He really didn’t like my old clothes—”

  “OH MY GOD, FROM SAKS?” Marisa’s shriek was ear-piercing. “Are you serious? You’ve gotta let me borrow something when you come!”

  Mia laughed. “Of course! Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

  “Oh crap, never mind,” said Marisa, “I just realized that soon I won’t be able to borrow anything from anyone—especially from my tiny baby sister. In a couple of months, I’ll be a total cow.”

  “Oh please,” said Mia, laughing at the image of her svelte sister looking even remotely cow-like, “you’ll look like one of those actresses in Hollywood—all normal, just with a cute little baby bump.”

  Marisa shuddered. “I certainly hope so. But I have to say, so far, pregnancy is nothing like what I’d imagined.”

  Mia looked at her sympathetically. “That sucks. Hang in there, okay? It’s just a few more months, and then you’ll have a beautiful child . . .”

  Marisa beamed at her. “That’s true. And you too, baby sis, hang in there, okay? Call me if you ever want to talk about Mr. Gorgeous again. And I promise I won’t say anything to the parents. You’re right—they would worry unnecessarily. This type of stuff is best left for talks with your sister.”

  Mia smiled and said, “That’s what I thought. I love you. Say hello to Connor for me, okay?”

  “Will do,” said Marisa, and disconnected with one final wave.

  Relieved, Mia stared at the blank computer screen. She had lied to her family, but at least she’d managed to prevent them from freaking out completely. In a way, the conversation with Marisa had been therapeutic. Although she couldn’t tell her sister the whole truth, she’d been able to share enough details to make herself feel much better about the situation. Marisa’s nonjudgmental, sympathetic ear had been exactly what she’d needed at this point.

  Now she had to finish editing the paper—and then she will have completed everything she’d set out to do for the day.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Now that she was done with studying, Mia had no idea what to do with herself. Waking up on Thursday morning, she submitted her papers online and decided to go for a walk in Central Park. Korum again left early in the morning, before she had woken up, so she was on her own for the day. She texted Jessie, but her roommate had her Calculus exam in the afternoon and was frantically cramming. Mia wished there was someone else she could hang out with, just to avoid being alone with her thoughts, but most other students were too busy packing for the summer or still in the middle of finals.

  The middle of May was usually a ‘hit-or-m
iss’ weather in New York. This year, it seemed like summer had started early, and the temperature that day was a balmy seventy-five degrees. Mia gladly put on one of her new spring dresses, a simple blue cotton sheath, and a pair of cream-colored sandals that managed to be both comfortable and stylish. And then she headed out to join the hordes of New Yorkers and tourists that came out to enjoy Central Park.

  It was hard to believe that only a month ago Mia had been walking here by herself, with no real knowledge of the Ks, thinking about nothing more than her Sociology paper. She hadn’t met Korum yet, and had no idea what a drastic turn her life would take in the next few minutes. What would have happened if she hadn’t sat down on that bench that day? Would she even now be packing to go home on Saturday?

  As though her feet had a mind of their own, Mia found herself heading toward Bow Bridge, the place of her first close encounter. Unlike the last time, the little bridge was teeming with people today, all seeking to take photos of the picturesque view. Mia found herself a spot on a bench next to a young couple and settled in to read the latest bestselling thriller—something she only had time to do when school wasn’t in session.

  After a half hour, the couple left, and Mia got the entire bench to herself. Before she could enjoy it for long, however, she heard her name being called. Startled, she looked up and saw a young woman, dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a white sleeveless shirt, approaching the bench. Her short sandy hair was tousled, like a boy’s, and her arms were sleekly muscled. It was Leslie, the girl she’d met that one time with John—one of the Resistance fighters.

  “Hey Mia,” she said, “do you mind if I join you for a minute?” Without waiting for a response, she sat down on Mia’s bench.

  “Sure, be my guest,” said Mia, somewhat rudely. Leslie was not her favorite person, and she really didn’t feel like being tasked with something else right now. As far as Mia was concerned, she had carried out her mission, and all she wanted was to be left alone.

  “Look,” said Leslie, her tone far friendlier than before, “I know we got off on the wrong foot. I just wanted to say thanks for what you did, and to give you something from John.” She held out a small oval object that looked vaguely like a garage opener or an automatic car key.