by Sariah Skye
Bash’s eyes lingered on me for a split second. His forehead crinkled with confusion briefly before he looked away. “I don’t see shit. Must have been a raccoon.”
My eyes snapped open, as he sauntered away. Is he blind? There’s no way he didn’t see me. Unless…my weirdness worked! Yes! I cheered inside, and breathed a sigh of relief. Quietly.
“What are we going to do with this guy?” Deep Voice questioned, as Trystan shook his arm slightly, roughing up the scrubby-headed man.
Bash reached back and rubbed his neck, then fingered the collar of his leather jacket. “I think we’ve scared him enough. Let’s just let him go.”
Trystan grumbled. “I think we should bring him in. What say you, Xander?”
The deep-voiced Asian guy—Xander—shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, I really don’t think Mathias wants to deal with this pìyǎn tonight. Let’s just let him be found by someone else,” Xander said, releasing his clutch on the perverted douchebag’s arm.
Trystan frowned, but released him as well. He waggled a finger in the dirty—literally—blond’s face. “Ye better consider yourself lucky that my friends are feeling generous tonight. That’s two strikes against ye tonight; first, trying to hook up with that female, and the other for exuding rudeness to that enchantress. Mathias wouldn’t be so kind on you.”
“Yeah, you’re lucky, bub,” Bash said, scowling, and spitting next to the scraggly man on the ground, who was still cowering and shaking.
Enchantress? Who else was this asshole rude to, seriously, besides me? This fucker was definitely having a bad night.
Xander nodded towards his friends. “Let’s go.”
Trystan raised his fist at the guy one more time, and muttered something angrily under his breath. The douche guy remained crumpled on the ground, not moving much but to shiver.
Xander led the way down the alley, followed by Bash and Trystan, leaving him behind. The douche guy abruptly stood up, pulling out a long, serrated blade from inside his pants and began charging at the three guys. Where the hell did that come from!?
Out of instinct, I leapt up, pointing. The three hot men were completely surprised to see me come out of nowhere. “What the—” Trystan began but I interrupted him, pointing frantically.
“Behind you!” I said, as the bedraggled guy no longer looked bedraggled, but bloodlusted. His eyes were wild as he charged them.
Xander was first to move; with a swift kick he knocked the guy down, and Bash quickly grasped his bladed hand, squeezing like a vice. The douche cried out, and released the blade; it fell with a clink to the ground, where Trystan leaned over and picked it up. I tried not to admire his taut backside in his tight blue-jeans; they’d just been accosted by a psycho with a knife.
Definitely not a good time to be checking someone out.
Trystan raised the blade to better look at it. He whistled lowly. “It’s tainted. Ye’d been ash, Xander,” he said, shaking his head.
Xander took the opportunity to connect a fist with the guy’s jaw. I tried not to wince and gag as bones crunched, and blood spurted everywhere. “That’s strike three!”
“Do it, Tryst!” Bash said.
Trystan raised the blade, and I gasped, taking a handful of steps backward, this time hitting the wall. “What do we do about the enchantress?”
“We’ll deal with her later,” Bash instructed, nodding to me absently.
“Enchantress?” I gulped. “Um, I’d rather you not deal with me at all. I’m just gonna—” I said, pointing down the alley way.
Bash was quick, like lightning, and was by my side with little more than a leap. He didn’t grab me, but gently placed his hands on the small of my back. “Don’t worry, you’re okay. I promise,” he whispered quietly into my ear.
A warm shiver shot down my neck, and I felt a tingle of warmth wash over me. I wanted nothing more than to step back into his warm arms, and sink into his embrace.
Huh? Stop it, Ava! They’re hot, but they’re psycho! Don’t lose your mind, dummy!
I hip-checked him. “Hey, don’t you dare,” I warned.
Bash lifted his hands, looking amused. “Whatever you say.”
“Might want to close your eyes for this, though,” Xander warned me, as he pinned the knife-wielding douche’s arms in back of him.
He cried out. “No! Don’t let them do this! Please!” He looked directly at me. “Please!” he said pleadingly.
Trystan groaned. “Hope your next lifetime is a better one.” With that, Trystan plunged the long knife into his stomach, pushing upward.
I cried out in surprise, jumping backwards. “This is—what?”
Bash caught me before I could go tearing down the alley way. “Shh, it’s okay, we’re the good guys, I promise.” Where Xander’s voice was deep and seductive, Bash’s voice was melodic, and soothing; almost like a gentle lullaby. Against my better judgment I didn’t pull away when he grasped my arms gently.
The blond male let out a painful shriek, before bursting into an explosion of light.
Nothing was left behind.
My eyes widened. “Okay…what?” I scrambled backwards in a panic, trying to escape the embrace of Bash. Gorgeous he was, yes. But what in the fuck was that?
“Wait—don’t go, let us—” Bash protested quickly, as I elbowed him in the gut—hard. Trystan tossed the knife aside, and lifted up his hands as a show of “surrender,” and he and Xander both took steps towards me, their expressions cautious, like they were attempting to catch a wild cat.
“Fuck. You.” I pointed at Trystan, and Xander, and then back to Bash. I turned on my heels and started running, not caring if I made a bunch of noise, or kicked another can down the alley. In fact, that’s exactly what I wanted.
“Hey—Avie!” Trystan called.
I stopped in my tracks just long enough to glare at them threateningly. “Do not follow me!”
Reluctantly all three men—or, murderers, exorcists, whatever the fuck they were—didn’t come after me. They looked bewildered though as I sped through the alley and around the corner, where Summer was sitting alone at a bus stop, on the phone.
“Let’s go!” I said to her with urgency, grabbing her by the arm.
“What? Avie what the hell! I tried to come get you but I like, couldn’t move!” She said, trying to pull out of my grasp.
I held on tighter, giving her a stern look that said I was serious. “What do you mean you couldn’t move?” I shook my head, dismissing the idea. “Later. Just now—run!”
Summer’s brown eyes grew huge, and she nodded once. Hand in hand we dashed down the street, away from the odd scene I’d just witnessed.
CHAPTER 4
I refused to speak about the ordeal until we were far away from the scene, far away from the city, and back in our home. Summer kept inquiring, but I’d just shake my head no, and mouth “Later.” I finally obliged her request when we’d been dropped off by the taxi at home, and he’d pulled out of the driveway. I shut the door, the curtains, and holed us up in my bedroom.
“You can’t be serious,” she said, eyes wide as she shook her head over and over again. Clearly, she was skeptical that I just witnessed three gorgeous male specimens impale someone in the chest, and he vanished into nothing.
I just sniggered. “Yeah, well I don’t believe it fully either, and I saw it, Sum.”
We were on my bed as I regaled her with my “story.” I sat at the head, blankets wrapped around me; Summer at the opposite side, long legs dangling off the end. Pushing off the blankets, feeling anxious, I went to my closet. I stripped off my sweaty cardigan, and my clingy black pants I had worn to the club. “It’s just crazy, Av. How is it even possible?” She asked, incredulous.
“Beats the fuck outta me!” I exclaimed. I found a heather gray t-shirt that read “Minneapolis” across the chest in blue, and some blue boxers I generally saved for sleep that I’d “borrowed” from an old boyfriend years ago. “And before you say it, no, I barely drank an
ything as you know, and I wasn’t seeing things!” I emerged from the closet to see Summer, open-mouthed, looking sheepish like she was about to say exactly that. She clamped her mouth shut.
“I wasn’t going to say anything!” She insisted. “But I mean, it was dark…”
I rolled my eyes, groaning. “Yeah, it was, but I know what I saw.”
Summer sighed. I sat back in bed, checking my cell phone for the time. It was nearly 4am. “Maybe it was just some sort of stunt for Youtube or something,” Summer suggested.
I considered this. “It’s possible.” What else could it be? It wasn’t possible that someone just disintegrated into thin air. I felt uneasy at the notion.
“What’s the other option? That he was a vampire, and they’re vampire hunters?” Summer raised a brow. “Hey, that’d be neat.”
I chuckled. “Say, you seen Sierra lately?”
Sierra, my very large, white Great Pyrenees dog, often spent time at my mother’s half of the house when we were out and about. The basement was shared, and we usually left our doors open to let our respective dogs back and forth; even though my mom’s small yapper dog, Joey, really didn’t like me much. Never had.
“Your mother’s door was closed earlier; I’m assuming they’re all asleep.” Summer patted my leg and stood. She raised her arms over her head, and yawned. “Girl I need to get to bed, I have a client at noon, and a wedding to do hair for after that.” She wrinkled her nose. “Just great, a bunch of bratty bridesmaids and a bridezilla; exactly what I wanted.”
I snickered, smiling wryly. “Just leave the basement door open so when Mom gets up Sierra can come back over.”
Summer nodded once. “You got it. Don’t think about it much. They seemed a bit off, they were probably just messing with you.”
I nodded slowly, as my mind wandered back to the evening. I grumbled, dismissing it. Summer was right—right? There was no way it was anything other than a prank. I just was in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
Right?
I woke up the next morning with a cold, wet dog nose in my face.
“Oh good, you are awake!” My mother said from the doorway to my bedroom.
I reluctantly peeled my eyes open; Sierra was standing before me, sniffing my arm that was dangling over the side of the bed. I groaned, looking around. It was bright in the room—too bright for morning. I yawned groggily. “What time is it?”
“Nearly two o’clock, dear.” My mother chuckled, and disappeared from the doorway. “I made you lunch; I’m sure you’ve eaten like garbage all day yesterday since you were out and about.” I heard the excess of jewelry clank against each other as she left, assumedly for the kitchen.
Sierra nudged me with her nose, fluffy tail wagging behind her gently. She huffed through the same nose and plopped her butt down, waiting for me to get out of bed.
I sighed. I scratched her favorite spot behind one of her light gray ears and she sighed—actually sighed—happily. I slowly emerged from my bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and joining my mother in the kitchen/dining area; Sierra close behind me.
I slid into one of the chairs at the table, rubbing my face with my hands. I gathered my hair behind me, and tossed it over one shoulder as my mother set down a half of a turkey sandwich, and a bowl of green salad in front of me.
“So, Summer tells me you had an interesting evening.” My mother set a glass of water with a lemon wedge beside the plate and raised an eyebrow.
I let out a groan. “We got totally pranked. Surprised it’s not all over the internet yet.” I was convinced that is what happened; there was no other logical explanation for it.
My mother laughed gently. I looked up from poking my salad with a fork, and gave her the once-over. My mother was one of a kind; she always dressed in black or other dark colors, kept her hair in a long, salt-and-pepper braid down her back, or wound around her head. She had a cloudy, gray crystal she always wore on an antique metal chain; I don’t remember a time I ever saw her without it. She claimed it was for positive energy, or something. I didn’t know anything about crystals or energy, so I just took her word for it.
She used to wear heavy brown eyeshadow and dark eyeliner around her dark brown eyes, with dark, crimson lipstick, but she’s given it up, claiming that being near sixty was about time to give up her “Goth” dress. She certainly didn’t look sixty; I swear, most people thought she was more of a sister than my mother. She said we were blessed with good genes. I hoped so, though I’d never met my grandparents, and she was an only child.
Her Goth look never bothered me growing up; it suited her. She was an artist—painting and sculpting—and had sold unique works to several galleries in the state as well as some prominent collectors around the country. As such, her side of the house was always messy, with this batch of clay lying around, these pots laid out to dry, drop cloths everywhere with paint strewn about…whatever. Her house had very little order. She claimed that was much of the reason for the black and dark clothing; it hid her art mess easier. The eye makeup was for fun, just to scare people. I liked that part.
She was also a former witch—no, not a broom-flying, pointy-hat-wearing, green skinned witch, but a practitioner of Paganism. She was always a solo-practitioner that I could recall, though she said before I was born she was a member of a local coven. She said she just got too busy and craved the solitude that solo practice gave her. She had an altar in her bedroom, but last I’d seen, it was collecting dust. She said she had moved away from it some time ago. Why, she never said. But, that’s how I got my weird name: Avalon Dawson. “Avalon” after the mystical isle covered with magic, witches, and sorcery. Of course, I found it ridiculous, so most times I went by “Ava.” I had no idea who my father was. I’d never met him, and my mother won’t talk about him. She says there’s nothing to tell. All she said was I was the product of a very hot one-night stand, and her face would get all dreamy on the rare occasion she spoke about it. Now, it didn’t matter how old you were—you never wanted to think about your mother getting it on. Ever. So, I really never inquired further.
“I haven’t seen anything on the internet about a Minnesota girl getting pranked, Avie-baby,” my mother said, her voice light as she fixed her own lunch and sat down across from me.
I snorted. “Well what else could it be then?”
My mother looked expectant. “Could it be you girls’ drinks were spiked?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but I deliberated her suggestion. I mindlessly collected a bite of salad on my fork. “You know,” I said between chewing, “I didn’t really feel strange, but Summer seemed to be kind of confused. And I don’t know what compelled me down that alley. Maybe it was that.” I shrugged, swallowing. “After all, what else could it be?”
My mother snickered, sipping her water. “Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”
I rolled my eyes at the mention of my mother’s favorite show. I avoided it because it seemed so hokey to me, but my mother ate it up, as well as any show about anything paranormal. I was more of an action, shoot‘em-up type of a girl.
“I know you don’t want to hear it, I know you’re all grown up, but you need to be more careful,” my mother said sternly, holding up her fork as she spoke, shaking it at me. “You could have really been hurt.” Before I could protest, she continued. “Yes, I know, you’re smart. Very smart. And tough. But three guys, Av? That’s scary.”
I dismissed her with a gesture of my hand. “Pffft. They weren’t that big.”
My mother dropped her fork and looked up at me through, narrow eyes. “Summer said they towered over her, and we know how tall she is. Baby, just be more careful, huh?”
As if to agree, Sierra—who was sitting next to me on the floor, waiting for me to drop something from my plate—let out a little huff through her nose. I patted her on the head. “Okay, okay. But come on—we’re still pretty tough, and fast.” I wouldn’t win an MMA titles, but with my lifting I could have some weight behind my punch. And I looked
unassuming, which was the best part of all.
My mother sighed. We ate our lunches in silence for a bit before my mother spoke. “So, meet anyone worthwhile at this club?”
I guffawed loudly. “Besides getting stepped on, pushed, and ignored, the only person that paid any attention to me was one of the guys that I later found in the alley. Needless to say, no, I didn’t meet anyone worthwhile.”
She sighed again, setting down her silverware. “Maybe if you had some hobbies besides just watching TV and movies.”
I clenched my teeth, and slammed my fork down on the table. “Here we go again…”
“What? I’m just saying if you got out there, maybe met some people who have similar interests to you, you might—”
I growled under my breath. “—I’ll be ignored just like all the other times. Mom, I don’t think you understand it. No one pays attention to me! Never has! I’d be in school, in gym class; last one to get picked. Sometimes they even forgot I existed until I said something! Dates? Ha! If they show up at all, they’re always into something else. On the rare occasion someone pays attention, it isn’t long before they just get bored. I don’t know why! But I literally could be standing in the middle of a stadium, full of thousands of people, streaking naked, carrying flaming pom-poms, and riding a tyrannosaurus rex and still, no one would care! That t-rex could be wearing a tutu and a rainbow wig and still—nada! I swear to you!” I groaned loudly. “Why do you think I play games? Work data entry? I never get the credit I deserve in person. Yet, if I do stuff online, or whatever bam! Suddenly I get noticed! I don’t know why, I’m pretty sure something is wrong with me! I—” I knew it probably had something to do with my strange ability, but she didn’t know about it, and I certainly wasn’t going to tell her. Besides, there was an entirely equal chance I was just a mutant, and people didn’t like me. Pffffffft. Their loss.