Autumn's Eyes (Storm Season Book 1)

by J. L. Sutton

  Maybe I really was broken. I argued with myself back and forth for hours at a time. It always ended the same. I couldn’t explain my new hunger for more knowledge of the secret world that up until a few days ago I didn’t even know existed. But in the end it wasn’t my curiosity, it wasn’t that I was searching for answers to questions I often asked, the distinctly unique element of danger or even to understand the inner workings of things we could only ever guess at.

  It was Dawn.

  I knew I should have a healthy fear of her, if she even was a she. Everything about her could be a lie, for all I knew she was watching me right now just as I was watching Molly. She could be in the seat next to me and I wouldn’t have a clue. But something about her was just so human. Mixed in with the secrets and deception there was also sincerity, and doubt. I had seen the face of Death, and though I had no idea what lurked behind those midnight eyes, I saw no cruelty or malice in them. What struck me the most was even after seeing what she was capable of, knowing she could crush me without batting an eyelash, she still seemed unbelievably delicate.

  Of course it also helped that since meeting her my days had become a lot more interesting. My job was definitely exciting in its own way, but surveillance and cheating spouses paled in comparison.

  I ran my tongue along the back of my teeth while I watched the lights turn on and off through the house behind Molly, about to setup up my audio surveillance equipment when a car drove up the street and into her driveway. Anticipation began to build in my chest, and for a moment I thought the waiting was over. A second later my hopes were shattered when a teenager carrying a pizza bag got out of the driver’s seat and headed towards her door.

  I muttered unintelligibly under my breath as I began packing my equipment away. Wasted enough time waiting for something that clearly wasn’t going to happen this weekend, may as well get something to eat myself. I knew Eric would be busy, so I dialed Jennifer’s number.

  “Sorry Ben, I’ve got plans tonight,” Jennifer said morosely. “My mom’s in town with her new husband. I really wish you called me earlier. Anything would be better than this torture.”

  “It was kind of a last minute thing, and I thought I’d be working anyway. Want me to rescue you?”

  “Not even you could pull off that miracle right now.”

  I chuckled. “At least I tried. Well, good luck.”

  “Thanks. I’ll need it.”

  After taking one last look at Jacob’s home I turned down the street, wondering how long it would take Jen to cave and hide out at my place while she complained about every detail of their stay. Since the wedding day it practically became a tradition for her whenever her mother was in town. As I wound my way through the light evening traffic I recalled how she begged me to go with her. I could still remember the look of disgust on her face as her mother said the words “I do”—that alone was worth the trip.

  It was just after seven thirty when I arrived at the diner. Not wanting to leave my equipment on the back seat I stepped out of the car, carefully balancing four unequally sized bags on top of each other. The now familiar sensation of pins and needles crept into my mind just as I fit the last bag in the trunk. I froze for a half second, my body betraying my fear before I could quash it. Closing the trunk I saw her walking slowly up the sidewalk towards me, her pale skin accentuated in the moonlight.

  I took a deep breath. “Evening, Dawn.”

  “Hi.” Her casual greeting caught me off guard. Dawn was usually so formal, tightly wound as if every action was carefully measured. I could tell it took a lot for her to admit her secrets to me, which raised the question—why would she make another appearance?

  “How did you know I wanted to see you again?”

  “Starting the interrogation already?” It was difficult to tell by her expression, but she sounded almost amused. “I was given to understand that people usually start with small talk.”

  “There’s nothing usual about any of this.”

  “True.” She nodded, neatly evading the question. Was it because she was unwilling to answer, or she thought I was better off not knowing? I didn’t mind either way, it was enough that I had another chance to see her again, assuming my curiosity could win out over my crippling anxiety. It was amazing to me just how calm I sounded right now when my insides felt like ground meat.

  “I was just about to get dinner. Would you like to join me?” And stick around, I amended in my head. An almost subconscious part of my mind, more instinct than an actual voice, was telling me to run. Run far away and never look back. I found it was surprisingly easy to ignore.

  She deliberated for a moment, her one arm crossed behind her back holding her elbow while she rocked back and forth on her heels. “If you wish.”

  We walked up to the diner in silence, Dawn falling into step just behind me. The diner was a lot busier than I expected, so instead of my usual spot at the window I opted for an empty booth around the counter. As we took our seats across from each other Dawn seemed to grow noticeably anxious. She tucked herself into the corner of the seat, leaning against the wall as far from me as she could. Being in such close proximity sent the mental haze that accompanied her into a concentrated overdrive, the pinpricks flaming against my skull. Not debilitating, but it was annoyingly distracting.

  Looking at her posture it occurred to me then that perhaps on some level Dawn was just as uncomfortable being near me as I was with her. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” she answered hesitantly. “This is just more . . . public than I am used to. Not exactly responsible behavior on my part.”

  I took a quick look around the room. No one seemed to be paying us any notice. “Then why risk it?”

  “I have been watching you from a distance for quite some time now. You could say it has piqued my interest.”

  So I wasn’t the only one who was looking beyond our shared problem of making the situation with Hyde disappear. What about my life could be so interesting to something like her? I was about to ask her why she was being so honest with me, when she turned away and snatched a menu off the table like a cobra strike.

  Megan came around the corner a second later. “Hey Benjamin, haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “It’s been a crazy week.” I laughed dryly, my nerves making it difficult to keep a straight face.

  Megan smiled as she retrieved a stubby pencil from behind her ear. “Know the feeling, so what can I get you?”

  “Nothing for me, thank you.” Dawn said as Megan looked in her direction, her face buried behind the menu she appeared to be reading intently.

  “I’ll just take a burger.”

  Megan nodded, skipping away after a second look at Dawn. As soon as Megan was out of sight Dawn closed the menu and slid it back into place. Dawn was hiding her eyes from Megan. I cleared my throat. “Not hungry?”

  Dawn shifted uneasily, her face becoming impassive as she answered. “I do not eat.”

  “Never?” I asked, unable to hide my shocked expression.

  “It is not necessary for me,” she said quietly. “Neither is water, breathing, or sleeping.”

  “Wow,” I mouthed, trying to rearrange my expression so that I wasn’t gaping like an idiot. Dawn’s eyes never left my face, gauging my reaction like it was the most fascinating thing she ever saw. Her marked departure from the weary, never-breathe-a-word Dawn I knew made me wonder if she was purposefully trying to shock me after I so casually ignored her warnings. Not able to form words just yet I just stared back, noticing the depth of those liquid obsidian eyes for the first time. They weren’t completely black like I first thought—her irises were a fraction of a shade lighter than her pupils. They were truly mesmerizing, how had I gone this long believing them to be cold?

  “Still with me?” she asked, breaking me out of my trance. Damn, how long had it been since I said anything?

  Dawn was being more honest with me than I expected, the least I could do was return the favor. “Sorry, I was just think
ing that you’re a lot less terrifying than you think you are.”

  “That is not true.” she said, her expression hardening. “You do not know everything.”

  I kept my eyes level with hers, willing myself not to flinch at her sudden mood swing. It was mostly an act. Every second I was here a part of me was desperately trying to tell me to listen to her. But she wasn’t angry, not really. She was afraid of being around me. I was playing a dangerous game, using pieces on the board I didn’t understand. I was willing to risk it though, because I wanted to know more about her. A calculated gamble, but one I was hoping would work. “I may not know everything, but I do know you’re cautious. I believe you don’t want to harm me. You wouldn’t do anything you didn’t think either of us could handle. I can’t explain why, but I just know. So I’m not too worried.”

  “I am aware of that.” Dawn sighed heavily, the earlier irritation draining out of her as quickly as it flared up. “Still, I had to try.”

  “You really don’t need to sleep?” I asked casually, hoping to diffuse the tension.

  She looked like she wasn’t going to answer, and I had just begun to think I pushed my luck too far when she muttered something in a guttural, flowing language I didn’t recognize. Dawn cocked her head to the side, the way she often did when she looked at me, and sighed. “Cannot sleep would be more accurate, but no, I do not need too.”

  “How’s that possible?” I asked.

  I couldn’t bring myself to believe she could possibly survive without sleep, without sustenance. Even desert plants needed water. But Dawn looked so vital.

  “You see me the way you see yourself, as flesh and muscle and bone,” Dawn explained. “In some ways we are the same, but my body does not function the same way yours does.”

  “It must be nice though,” I mused, thinking of all the hours I spent asleep, and what I could’ve done with all the extra time on my hands. Not being handicapped by all the mundane human roadblocks that were essential to life sounded useful. I don’t think I’d be willing to give up food though.

  “You would think so. Imagine walking past a bakery, the smell of bread fresh out of the oven filling your senses, and knowing you will never be able to taste it. Imagine never resting again, your whole existence being one long night that never ends. Never waking to a new sunrise as it stretched across the horizon, or being forced to watch the rest of the world sleep away their troubles and doubts while you are left wide awake. Never being able to dream.”

  I couldn’t help staring at the astonishing creature sitting across from me. Sadness echoed in her voice, a deep longing for something she could never have. It almost sounded like she envied the rest of us. It was difficult trying to picture her as something as primal as Death after that. Everything about her had me confused. My head couldn’t possibly be in a healthy place if I wanted to sympathize with Death, could it?

  “It’s difficult to picture,” I admitted.

  Dawn closed her eyes, rubbing her temples in gentle circles the same way I did. “I cannot seem to put a finger on you.”

  “You’re going to have to elaborate on that one.” I laughed. She just admitted she didn’t need oxygen, but I was the one that needed figuring out?

  “You are far too calm,” she said, sounding slightly frustrated.

  “What were you expecting?”

  “I am not entirely sure, revulsion maybe?”

  I wracked my brain, trying to find the best way to explain myself. “I guess I’m trying to be open minded. I won’t apologize for who I am, and neither should you. We are what we are.”

  “That is far more accepting than I deserve after everything I have done,” Dawn said, looking out the window, “but it does not change the fact that I am still the most dangerous thing you have ever met, and it is my fault you are in this mess to begin with.”

  “You keep saying that, but I’m not so sure I understand.” I was hoping to avoid bringing up anything to do with what she actually does—her job, as she called it, for as long as I could. Now I was curious, and any insight into her was one worth exploring. “If you can’t . . . kill me until it’s my time, then why all the warnings?”

  “You really have to ask that question?” she stammered, looking as close to shocked as I ever saw her.

  Yes, Dawn was definitely uncomfortable around me, but how was I supposed to know if I was doing something wrong? I took a guess that my best tactic was for her to think I was really concerned—she seemed to be pretty serious about my wellbeing.

  “I don’t know everything,” I quoted her. “If I knew exactly what you meant, maybe it would be safer for me.”

  Dawn’s eyes narrowed, her expression shifting from bewilderment to suspicion in an instant. Somehow she knew it wasn’t exactly why I wanted to know. No one had ever been able to call my bluff so easily before. She turned her gaze to the people around us, purposefully pausing over each one before turning back to me. “Not here.”

  “You will tell me though?” I asked, wondering why this particular topic compared to all the rest wasn’t fit for the diner.

  She sighed heavily. “Aye, I will. It is difficult to say no to you when you are this persistent.”

  “It’s one of my best qualities.” I said, grinning openly.

  She was about to say something else when her whole body tensed, snapping her head towards the window just as Megan appeared behind her with a tray in each hand. How does Dawn keep doing that? I hadn’t even seen Megan coming, and I was the one looking in her direction.

  Luckily Megan seemed to be preoccupied with something and didn’t linger more than necessary. As soon as she was out of earshot Dawn visibly relaxed, her amused expression returning as she watched Megan walk away. Dawn kept to herself while I ate, tearing small scraps off of an empty sugar packet. Still, from time to time I caught her stealing glances at me when I was trying to sneak one in myself. I was never self-conscious about eating in front of someone before. Of course I would be with her.

  The silver links from the same pendant I saw on her before were visible around her neckline, but the artfully woven braid she always had in her hair was on the opposite side today. Her choice of clothing was odd too—this was hardly suitable weather for the thin cotton top she wore. How had these seraphim walked among us for so long without any of us noticing something was off, which got me thinking that maybe they hadn’t.

  “I have a question,” I began tentatively as I slid my empty plate away.

  “You always seem to.”

  “I’m not the only one who knows about your kind, am I?”

  “No, there are a few humans that know,” Dawn said, looking almost relieved. I couldn’t help but wonder what questions she was hoping to avoid. “Mistakes happen from time to time. Not everyone follows the rules as strictly as they should.”

  “There are rules?”

  “Of course. If there were no laws to follow then what would stop me from doing whatever I wanted, or not doing what I was supposed to?”

  I shuddered at the thought of the havoc something like her could cause. “Did you break one of your kind’s laws by telling me your secret?”

  “Technically.”

  “You don’t seem too concerned, won’t you get punished?”

  “Probably, if anyone found out,” she said, shrugging. “I have rarely caused trouble before, so I doubt it will be too serious.”

  “Good,” I said honestly, the last thing I would want was someone suffering for the decisions I made, even if she thought she was the cause. I also got the impression Dawn was one that took these rules pretty seriously. Now that I had eaten there was no reason to stay at the diner, but I wasn’t ready to let Dawn slip away from me just yet. I only had about a million questions left to ask, so I decided to give a change of venue a shot. “It’s still early. Did you have any other plans tonight?”

  “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  “Something less public,” I offered, hinting that I wanted an answer to the que
stion she avoided earlier. Either way I was careful to leave the decision up to her.

  She sighed wearily. “Your home then?”

  “Sure.” I nodded, though I would’ve agreed to pretty much anything as long as I still got to keep her talking.

  Dawn stood up at the same time as me, waiting for me to step out first so she could once again follow behind me. We were almost at my car when I noticed her footsteps cut off, and I turned to find Dawn standing motionless in the middle of the sidewalk, her hand clutching the egg sized gem around her neck. Her eyes were unfocussed, staring out into the empty street behind me for several long seconds before she snapped out of her trance.

  “There is . . . something I have to attend to first,” she said abruptly, her voice trailing off. There was a long pause before she spoke again. “I will not be long.”

  The wheels in my head clicked together, and for a moment all I could do was stare blankly at her while I processed what she was about to do. Dawn was waiting for me to respond, giving me the opportunity to change my mind now that I figured it out. This was it then. A true test of how far I was willing to go, what I was willing to accept. I exhaled slowly. “Meet me when you’re done?”

  “I will.” Dawn nodded once, looking as torn as I felt. She turned around, glancing over her shoulder at me before she disappeared into the night.

  My fingers were numb around the steering wheel as I turned onto Main Street. Too late I realized I was compartmentalizing the two Dawns’ in my head, separating what I saw with my own eyes from what she really was. A defense mechanism my mind created that I wasn’t even aware of until now. I was sure I could handle the truth, but actually knowing what was happening right now left a hollow burning sensation in my chest. Calm down Hadley, people die—it’s a fact of life. I could rationalize there was a walking, talking Grim Reaper, but looking into those eyes after this could be too much for me to handle. The road flashed before me as I wrestled with my thoughts, and it felt hours passed when I finally killed the engine.