Paranormal Word Series Box Set (Books 1-3 and Novella)

Home > Other > Paranormal Word Series Box Set (Books 1-3 and Novella) > Page 43
Paranormal Word Series Box Set (Books 1-3 and Novella) Page 43

by CC Solomon


  “You’re upset about more than just our predicament, right? If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

  I gave him a sideways glare. “In what upside-down world would I ever confide in you? I’m fine.”

  He snorted. “You’re not. I’ve been where you are. You feel like the hits just keep on coming and you can’t get control of anything.”

  “No, seriously, I’m not going to share my innermost thoughts with you so you can skip the therapist routine.”

  “Fine. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Must we?”

  “You seriously aren’t behind us not getting home?” He rested his head on the head rest, looking weary.

  “Are you really going to keep asking me that question?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  I shifted in my seat and turned my back to him. “Thanks for helping me back there.” I turned my head slightly. “How’d you know I was in trouble?”

  He pointed to his head. “Soulmates, remember?”

  “And you came to help me.”

  He looked over at me. “I never said I didn’t care about you, mi corazón. Besides, if you die, then I die, and who wants that?”

  I glanced at him sideways. Didn’t he want me gone?

  Chapter 14

  I woke up with a start. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. I looked around and realized we were still inside the SUV. I squinted and shielded my eyes with my arm as daylight spread through the windows.

  Phillip snored lightly beside me. For a moment, in that peaceful state, he looked innocent and good. Like the man that I had first fallen for in my dreams. I knew better now.

  I leaned over him to look at the watch on his wrist. It was after 9 a.m. My stomach rumbled and my throat felt dry. We needed food and water.

  I opened the car door and felt a hand on my wrist. I turned back to face Phillip, who looked at me with sleepy eyes.

  “I need to find a bathroom and get food and water,” I explained, yanking my arm away.

  “We don’t separate,” he replied in a groggy voice before opening his door and getting out.

  “I’ll do what I want,” I replied.

  I got out of the car and stretched, raising my arms to the sky and looking around. In the daylight the area looked less scary, well, outside of the destruction and eerie quiet. I wondered if the whole city was abandoned. It would be a shame. I’d really loved Dublin the last time I visited. It held a cheerful people and old-world culture I found charming.

  We walked a few minutes in silence and then found a small café. The door was closed and the front window was still intact. We could assume one of many things when we entered a building that wasn’t too dilapidated. First, it could be safe because there was no damage by the supernatural. Second option, it could be empty and there wouldn’t be anything of use inside because people weren’t in a rush and had taken the time to close the doors. Or third, it could be haunted.

  I frowned, suddenly recalling something. “It knew your name.” I stopped walking, standing at the entrance of the café.

  Phillip walked into the building and began to inspect the surroundings. “I think there’s food here. Maybe the town was functioning for some years after the Event then. Something more recent must have run them off. You can use a spell to make rotten food good again, right? That was never my thing,” he said, standing behind the counter

  I walked in towards the counter, passing several small circular tables and chairs. There was a narrow hall behind the counter off to the right that I assumed led to a kitchen and bathroom. “Did you hear me?” I asked, hands on my hips.

  “The ghost knew my name. Yeah,” Phillip replied with a bored tone, continuing his inspection of the café.

  I shrugged. “You don’t care?”

  He turned on the sink faucet in a preparation area behind the counter. No water came out. He cursed under his breath.

  “I care,” he replied.

  “Maybe that ghost wasn’t coincidental then.”

  “I came to that conclusion as well. Just because I didn’t bring it up, doesn’t mean it hasn’t been on my mind. You didn’t seem to really want to chat with me earlier. I can only assume that monstrosity knew you as well.”

  “Yep, since it was trying to kill me and all. I could see a ghost coming for you but why me?”

  Phillip turned to me with a frown. “Why me?”

  “I’m sure you’ve killed innocent people.”

  Phillip shook his head. “Actually, no.”

  He walked past me and headed down the hall. I followed.

  “Mae told you about the big bad that’s coming?” Phillip asked, turning his head slightly back to me.

  I nodded as we entered a small kitchen area. “She mentioned something coming but she wasn’t certain what.”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised if that ghost was related to the big bad. Here we are, isolated from our support. We’re easy prey. Tell Lisa, good job.” He opened the large industrial refrigerator and stifled a gag before covering his mouth.

  “I will. So, you think they, whoever they are, know we’re here and they sent a ghost to get us?”

  “I know I look smart but I actually don’t have all the answers.” He crossed his arms. “I think we have enough to put together a meal with magic. After this, we need to drive and find people who can help us.”

  We magically cooked up a meal; spinach quiche. It was slim pickings, unsurprisingly. I packed a bag of jelly sandwiches I made, with the hope that we’d find a water source soon.

  We got back onto the street and began to return to the SUV.

  “We should stop in a bar and get some whiskey,” Phillip thought aloud.

  “We aren’t on vacation,” I muttered. “We need to be sharp.”

  Phillip looked unconvinced. “I’m less inclined to annoy you if I can get a drink. Not to mention we need hydration.”

  “I don’t think alcohol will help with that.” I rolled my eyes as I followed him across the street to a small pub. He headed to the barely-stocked bar and threw out his hand towards me, keeping his back turned as he looked over the limited stock. “Pass me the extra tote.” He ordered.

  I dug through my tote for the folded up additional one, then paused. “Say please.”

  He turned to me with a smile. He winked. “Please, mi corazón.”

  “Don’t call me that,” I grumbled, passing the tote to him.

  “Why? Does it bother you?”

  I sighed. “Get that one last bottle of whiskey so we can keep moving. We’re burning daylight. After all this time, are we even sure that what’s in there is even what’s labeled?”

  “We’ll find out. More than likely they made their own and just reused the bottles. Still Irish whiskey, so I’m fine with that.” He took the tote and raised his hand. A dusty bottle of whiskey floated off the top shelf towards him. He grabbed it, then magically grabbed the bottle of vodka and placed them in the bag. “Got to have options.”

  “Great, the bar is officially dry.” I shook my head and walked across the room and out of the pub. I stopped suddenly at the door.

  There was a man in the street and he was looking at me.

  He had toffee-colored skin with deep-brown eyes. His jet-black hair was short and he was maybe five-foot-nine, with an average frame covered by a tailored black suit.

  “We have company,” I said.

  Phillip walked up behind me. He paused momentarily, seeing the man, and then he walked around me; stopping in front of me.

  I moved partially from behind him. “Sir, do you live in this area?” I called.

  The man looked to me and then Phillip. He squinted his eyes. “Phillip and Amina,” he replied in a sophisticated, British accent.

  Part of me hoped he was sent here to help us. Most of me knew he was sent here to hurt us. There was an energy about him that did not register as friendly. I received quick confirmation when he threw his hands up to the sky and a strong wind from seemi
ngly nowhere lifted us off our feet and then dropped us on our behinds.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” I grumbled, getting to my feet.

  “Tell us who you are and stop attacking us,” Phillip demanded. His voice was laced in his mind-controlling magic.

  The man gave a slight smile but said nothing. Phillip stood beside me silently, his face visibly straining, veins in his neck pronounced. Soon his face relaxed, replaced with a worried look. “He isn’t controlled by us,” Phillip surmised.

  “Maybe he has mind control abilities as well,” I replied. “It would cancel our power out.”

  “But even my body control powers aren’t working,” Phillip stated.

  The ground shook and I held tightly to my tote as if that fabric full of food would steady me to the ground. Phillip placed his tote on the ground and stood up on shaky legs, feet wide apart to remain balanced.

  He shot out his arm and psychically pushed the man, who slid back, tumbling to his knees.

  The ground stopped shaking. I put my bag down as well and stood up in time for mystery man to regain his balance and push out wind magic with his hand. This time, Phillip was ready and the gust of wind hit an invisible wall in front of us. We felt not even a breeze. Impressive.

  I looked at the man on the other side of the wide street, his face unmoved. He took in a deep breath and then exhaled. A thick cloud of dark smoke came from his mouth. It grew in size as it surrounded us.

  It seeped into Phillip’s invisible box, turning our safe zone into a smokehouse. Phillip let down his magic, coughing in fits.

  I covered my nose and mouth and dropped to my hands and knees, pulling at Phillip’s jeans for him to do the same. He came down and I looked ahead, seeing what I assumed was the mystery man’s expensive-looking loafers slowly approach us.

  I shot my right hand upward and pushed the smoke out in the shape of a tunneling tornado.

  The smoke flew past the man, separating all around him as if repelled. His eyes were no longer deep brown, but fully engulfed in fire. I thought he was another witch but this eye thing threw me.

  Man with fire. Mae’s premonition rang in my head. He clearly wasn’t on our side. What was his role in me getting to power in Silver Spring?

  Eyes of fire, what was he? More importantly, how could he see?

  Could he have been a fire mage? If so, he’d be tough to beat. As a witch, I could create fire but it was basic compared to what a fire mage could do. Mages were the experts in whatever they had the natural power to control. A fire mage could walk through fire and not get burned. They could turn fire into the shape of weapons without the use of a spell. They could keep a fire going far and wide, long after they’d gone on to new ventures. This was true of all mages and their specialties.

  Of course, that wouldn’t explain why he wasn’t affected by our body control magic. Every creature or life form on earth, natural and supernatural, could be under our control, according to Mae. She could be wrong and there was a limit or…this man was not of earth.

  I didn’t have time to figure it out. Scary dude was probably going to shoot us with his laser beam eyes. Then we’d be toast. Fire would not be my weapon of choice.

  I pushed my hand onto the street. The ground rumbled and broke apart. Several golf ball-sized pieces of asphalt rose up and shot out at the man, pelting him in a barrage of rock until he was knocked to the ground, bloodied and unconscious.

  Phillip jumped up and helped me to my feet. “Good job,” he complimented me. “I can see how you won your round.” He honestly looked impressed as he eyed me with intrigue.

  “Yeah,” I said simply, not wanting to make this a bonding moment.

  He bent down and picked up our totes. Miraculously, his tote of liquor was still intact.

  I looked over to the man. “Who was he? How did he know our names?” I wondered aloud. I tentatively walked over to the man. He was still unmoving, eyes closed. “Is it silly to wonder if he has ID on him?”

  I kicked the man’s foot like a curious little kid and jumped back. He didn’t move. Maybe I had already killed him. I grew sick at the thought. Killing people was the last resort for me. I didn’t want to pile up a count of those I’d murdered. Even if it was for self-defense.

  “I shouldn’t have to tell you this but please stop playing with the dead body,” Phillip called from behind me. “Now, let’s go see if we can find others to get us home.”

  I turned halfway to Phillip. “I’m checking to make sure he’s out before I search his pockets. Maybe he has some type of I.D. on him. Who was this guy? What did he want from us? Why try to hurt us?”

  “Amina, run!” Phillip shouted.

  I didn’t look behind me. Instead, I tried to take off in a sprint but my legs wouldn’t move. My limps were frozen. Phillip dropped the totes and ran to me but was blown back towards the café by an impossibly strong wind. It felt hot, like the inside of an oven. I twisted my upper body around and saw the mystery man sitting upright, hand clawed out towards me as if he were gripping an invisible object.

  My left leg snapped and I cried out, dropping to the ground. There was no doubt that he had broken my leg at the shin. Tears welled in my eyes as throbbing pain overwhelmed me. I didn’t have time to whimper too much because my body was sliding back towards the man. My jean-covered bottom burned against the asphalt and I clawed at the pavement in a futile attempt to stop my movement.

  Suddenly, the pulling stopped.

  I twisted to the man and saw him clutching his eye, an arrow sticking out of it. He didn’t scream. Another arrow pierced his chest, then another. I looked around. Phillip was struggling to his feet, hunched over. This wasn’t his doing.

  I turned back to the man and threw out my hand to attack but he was now surrounded in a cloud of black smoke. I called out a paralyzing spell but it seemed to do nothing. His shape was gone. There was no man now. Only a fire burning on the street where he’d once sat. I closed my fist and the fire dissipated. No burned corpse remained.

  Phillip raced to me and hovered his hands over my broken leg, healing me with his magic.

  “Where’d he go?” I asked. I winced at the pain of my broken bone reconnecting as it healed.

  “Back to hell. Who helped us?” he questioned, still healing my broken leg.

  “Well, aren’t you lucky? You only shattered one bottle,” we heard a male voice say behind us in a thick, Irish accent.

  We turned to the voice and found a man hunched over, going through our totes. He was fair-skinned with short, orangey-red hair and a long, matching beard. He wore dingy jeans and a black T-shirt, which partially covered an arm full of tattoos that led up to his neck. On his back was a case of arrows and a sling.

  So, he was the mysterious arrow man.

  Man with the arrows. So far, Mae’s words were all falling into play. I had to find out who this guy was.

  He grabbed our totes and stood up, looking at us. He was maybe in his late 30s or early 40s. Heavy living covered his face, making him possibly younger than he appeared, as there was a youthfulness in his eyes. He had a lined forehead and crow’s feet surrounded his steel-gray eyes. He was muscular and of average height. I noticed he was also wearing a holster with a gun and a knife sheath.

  “If I were you two, I’d get out of here before your friend returns,” the man stated.

  “Those are our bags,” Phillip thundered, helping me get to my feet.

  I kicked out my left leg. Good as new. I kind of loved magic.

  “And you’re welcome,” said the red-haired man.

  I sighed. “Sorry for our lack of manners. Thank you. You saved my life.” I smiled, genuinely.

  Redhead winked at me.

  “Everything all right over here, Ed?” Another Irish voice shouted.

  Soon several people, men and women of differing ages with masks covering their noses and mouths, appeared. Their clothes were slightly frayed and dingy just like Red’s. They were carrying weapons ranging from guns to sword
s to knives. All weapons were aimed at Phillip and me.

  I raised my hands in surrender. Phillip kept his hands low with a look of annoyance.

  “Everything’s all right,” Red, now known as Ed, replied. “They got us groceries.”

  Phillip grumbled.

  “They got weapons, yes?” asked one woman with chin-length, brown hair. She had slightly-crazed, smiling, emerald eyes and was athletically built. She had two handguns aimed at me. Not cool.

  “No weapons, but they got powers,” Ed stated.

  “One of them, huh?” said another man, closing in on us, sword in hand.

  “We aren’t going to hurt you. Your friend, Ed, saved our lives.” I assured them.

  “You got here, how?” the woman asked, circling me; still smiling eerily.

  “Can we have this discussion somewhere else? Before that man who can’t be killed comes back?” Phillip asked, an impatient edge to his voice.

  The woman did a little jig. “Oh, let him come back. I want to kill him. Ed, you always have all the fun.”

  I decided something was off about her.

  “We don’t let your kind in our village,” said another man with short black hair. He glared at us in disgust.

  Phillip looked down at me with raised eyebrows. “So, with all that is going on in the world, these guys are racist too? That makes sense?” He crossed his arms, looking back at them.

  “No, we got no quarrel with colored people,” shouted an armed man with a bald head.

  “Colored people?” I said, scrunching my face.

  Ed sighed. “This is really not where this conversation should be going. Please excuse Mac. He should really just look and not speak,” he said loudly. “We may not have a lot of black people in Ireland, none in our village, but we certainly aren’t racist. We were talking about people with powers.”

  I nodded slowly. “Your village is just full of regular humans?”

  The others, about five of them, nodded. Then that explained the dingy clothes. They’d probably run out of detergent a long time ago and if they didn’t have electricity, they were doing laundry by hand. The masks were probably to keep themselves safe from the Sickness.

 

‹ Prev