Natural Selection

by Elizabeth Sharp

SECOND NATURE

  THE HOT SUN baked my back, and sweat beaded on my forehead. I wiped the back of my hand across my brow, cursing the new security cameras. If it weren’t for the eye in the sky, I’d have all of these flowerbeds weeded and healthier plants than any other nursery in town. My boss claimed the cameras were to catch vandals, but I had a suspicion he was more interested in my methods. However, there was nothing to see except for hard work and a lot of sweat. I used my abilities here and there to give the greenhouse a little boost, but the large, flourishing greenery was due to backbreaking labor and dedication—at least it was so long as the cameras were here.

  I wasn’t certain what I thought of working. When you age ten years in a single night, getting the world to believe you’re only fifteen can be tricky. Thanks to some forged documents, I was now an 18 years old, high school graduate from Cleveland, Ohio. The guy we’d hired to create our identities even got me into the alumni society. I didn’t feel like I missed anything, though I wondered about college.

  Sometimes it sucked trying to blend into the human world. Things hadn’t been coming up roses since I found out I was a Gaia. Think of me as Mother Nature, or one of them anyway. The mythical figure was based on a member of my race. I honestly have no idea how many of us there are, since I’ve only met one outside of my family.

  I glanced at my watch, quitting time. My back popped as I stood and stretched. Brushing dirt from my knees, I gathered my things and headed into the office. My boss wasn’t there, so I grabbed my purse and exited through the garden shop. I waved goodbye to the checker, Gladys, who was chatting with some regulars at the register. She smiled at me but didn’t say anything as I headed out to the parking lot. My brother sat at the curb in his new Mustang, dark sunglasses covering his unnaturally blue eyes. He smiled at me as I climbed in; he loved this new life we were living in North Carolina. I sighed, wishing I could find the happiness both my siblings had. They were so much stronger than me.

  I climbed in and glanced at my new cell phone but was disappointed to see I had no new messages. The cell phone was a bitter reminder that I had no friends anymore. I think there were only five people who even had the number, and I’d just left two of them at the garden center. I’d always been kind of a bookish loaner, but I still had friends. It wasn’t easy to make all new connection in Greensboro when I had to hide so much of myself from them. While there were parts of this new life I loved, like my paychecks, I missed my friends and my home.

  Xander drove through the quiet streets on the outskirts of town to the beautiful house we had built. Our childhood home brought in more money than we could have dreamed possible and combined with our parents’ life insurance made building a dream home reality It had taken the contractor eight months and 15,000 workers—perhaps a slight exaggeration—but we finally had a home—an enormous monstrosity of a home. The sight of the house made me roll my eyes, but I loved the land it sat on. The front yard looked like a botanical garden, with the limited expanses of lawn seeming more like paths. There was a small orchard in the back, with both peach and apple trees, and a vegetable garden on the side that kept me supplied with organic food. One of the hardest parts about being a Gaia in the modern world is the lack of natural products. Even things that say they’re organic sometimes have preservatives in them that make them taste bitter. I would give anything to enjoy a sweet, syrupy Coke again.

  The security gate opened automatically, and we parked in the circle driveway. Since I had given in to their desire for the oversized house—or more likely it was a mansion—they had given me a free hand with the decorating. The house had a natural, organic flow, an earthy feel that made it feel like home despite its size. The double front doors were floral-patterned, stained glass framed in cherry wood, with matching length panels to either side. When the doors opened, they revealed a large, open living room. The mahogany railing along the sandstone stairs and upstairs balcony reminded me of tree limbs. Two white suede sofas sat facing each other across a polished wood coffee table with a set of supple leather chairs on either end. The floor was made of stone tile with a mosaic in the center featuring rings of floral designs. At the back of the room was a set of simple wooden doors that led to a pool surrounded by another garden.

  I tossed my bag on a stone bench against the wall and headed straight for the kitchen—some things never changed. Sariah stood at the sink, rinsing and slicing veggies. Since our parents’ death the year before, she had settled down from her wild cat-in-heat ways and revealed a nurturing side I hadn’t expected. She was a goddess in the kitchen, whipping up amazing meals we all loved. Her blond hair bumped up in the front, then swept back into a sleek ponytail like all the stars are wearing. That was the thing with my sister, she had always seemed like a celebrity—minus the paparazzi. I was more than half convinced she would look perfect in the middle of a hurricane. I suppose it was part of being a Succubus, but really, it was just unfair.

  “The conquering hero returns,” she said with a smile. “How goes life in the trenches?”

  I made an unpleasant noise in my throat and shot her a hard look. With my mouth twisted, I grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the island and hopped up onto the counter. One of the features all three of us had agreed on in the house was the kitchen. It was a contrast of natural stone, honey colored wood and gleaming stainless steel. The cabinet base was uneven masonry block, and the counter tops were slate tile. Aside from the high tech appliances, it looked like the kitchen we had all grown up in. We had even hung the corkboard our mother used on the wall; the notes in her familiar flowery script were preserved in resin so it wouldn’t fade or wear away with time. This piece of the old and familiar we brought with us to our exotic, new life served as a comfort that some things would never change and a reminder of where we came from.

  In all honesty, I didn’t need my job at the garden center. We’d always lived a comfortable life, but none of us were prepared for what we would find in the basement of the house we grew up in. Secured in a hidden room was a safe the size of many suburban closets that was filled with cash from floor to ceiling. It was enough to keep us living extravagantly for ten years. I guess when you’ve been around for hundreds of years you kind of accumulate things. Since we had lived simple lives, there was quite a lot left over. It was only after my parent’s death that I learned my mother was in fact over 200 years old. And she had looked younger than most of my classmates parents.

  My parents were never open with me, which led to a lot of trouble. What I had never realized was they were nearly as closed lipped with my siblings as they were with me. Most of what Xander and Sariah knew, they had learned from the secret libraries of Otherworld knowledge. After Mom’s death, my grandmother had explained a lot about my family and Gaia in general. While women were pregnant just a hair longer than humans, carrying for a full year, the turnaround for their bodies was significantly longer. I had a brother, Jonathon, but he was murdered about sixty years before I was born. His death traumatized my mother so badly, she turned her back on the Otherworld. When she learned she was pregnant with me, she found a special agency and adopted a young Djinn and a Succubus to keep me safe. We were raised as a tight knit family and losing our parents had made us even closer.

  Xander followed behind me, flipping through a stack of mail disinterestedly. His eyebrows rose in surprise, and he looked at me, his eyes wide. He handed me an envelope with my grandmother’s handwriting on it. Inside I found another envelope addressed to our house back in Lincoln in my best friend’s handwriting. I frowned. I hadn’t heard from Evelyn since we left her in Springfield with a coven of witches. I glanced at my brother who shrugged, so I tore it open. My hand shook as I extracted a single sheet of notebook paper covered with Evelyn’s flowing handwriting. The letter was dated at the beginning of April and the greeting was just my name. She wasted little time on pleasantries and got straight to the point:

  I know we haven’t talked much since everything happened, and I don’t know if this l
etter will even find you. After all that happened last winter, I owe it to you to keep you up to date. My father has been trying to contact me mentally. I haven’t been letting him in, and I never will. Amber went to see him to figure out what was going on and found out my mom had somehow spelled him so he was conscious and aware, just unable to move. She released him from the spell. It’s too soon to know what he’ll do, Lia, but I’m scared. I’m scared for me, but even more so, I’m scared for you. I could feel so much anger and hate when his mind brushed mine. Be careful, Amelia. You and your family. If you ever want to talk, you have my number and stuff.

  Love and miss you much,

  Evelyn

  I read the letter three times unsure what to say. Mouth agape, I handed the letter to Xander who read it and passed it to Sariah with his angular jaw set. She glanced at me with a frown, and I spread my hands, shaking my head. My mouth worked, but it took me a long time to get my voice to work.

  “Do you think he’ll be coming after us?” I asked

  Sariah crumpled the letter and threw it into the trash. “Let him try. We’ll be ready.”

  I nodded, but I wasn’t sure how much I agreed.

  As always, I need to say thank you to my amazing family. My husband who is far more tolerant than he has to be, no matter what insanity I throw at him. My wonderful son, who fills my day with fun and laughter. To my mom, for helping me keep my dream going. I want to thank my siblings, for all you’ve done in the past and what you continue to do for me today. And to my niece, Amanda, who helped me create the Hoffman family almost twenty years ago. You might not remember, but I do.

  Some other amazingly talented people deserve a tip of my hat, because without them, this book wouldn’t be what it is today. K Keeton designs (www.kkeetondesgins.com) and Bailey Jennings helped me make my cover vision into a beautiful reality. A special thanks to Julie of JT Formatting (https://www.facebook.com/JTFormatting). Without all you taught me, I wouldn’t have been able to create this beautiful book. Thank you to Liz, for advice that has made me a better writer. To Dulice, who kept me chasing this dream, even when it seemed too hard.

  I have to give a big shout out to my scribbling friends over at Story 4 Story. Thank you for perking me up when I couldn’t go on. And to the Indie-licious folks, thank you for all your support and advice.

  Photo courtesy of

  EmberMae Photography

  Elizabeth has a near crippling Facebook addiction, dwarfed only by her need for Dr. Pepper. A self-proclaimed techno geek, she loves cell phones, computers, tablets and all things technological. The internet has to be the greatest invention since the wheel, in her opinion. She lives in a quiet subdivision with her husband, one-year-old son, three cats, and far too many electronics. It’s quite possible she has some raccoon in her DNA, because she loves glitter and anything that sparkles. She enjoys making jewelry and costumes. Halloween is her favorite holiday since it’s the one day of the year that you can be whatever you want. But her first love will always be writing. Otherwise, hearing voices in her head would make her feel schizophrenic.

  You can find Elizabeth online at:

  Website: https://www.elizabethsharpbooks.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elizabethsharpbooks

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/SomeSharpWords

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/sharpwords