Catching Temptation (In Darkness She Fades (Book 1) (3 page)

Shivers travel over my body. “Are
you with the masked monster I saw in the forest today?”

“Monster?” His voice hikes,
creating a rich, deep tone full of amusement.

I heard his voice before in the
past. The smell of pine wafts from his skin.

“Is that what you think we are?”
He strokes a stray hair away from my face, proving his spectrum of sight in the
darkness. I despise the loss of my vision. The urge to run generates a
prickling sensation over my entire body.

“What do you want?” My coined hip
scarf clangs when he tugs me harder against his chest. The aroma of wet earth
fills my nostrils when the strong creature bends his head to whisper into my
ear.

“Do not fear me, Temptation. I’ve
been watching you. Only you can help me. Save me.”

“Temptation!”

The arm uncoils from my waist.
His fingertips linger on my neck. The next second the chandelier lights
illuminate my bedroom once again. I blink at the place where the monster’s eyes
had appeared. He is gone. The drapes billow as if a breeze swept through the
room. Chest shuddering, I back up until I hit the bedpost. He had been watching
me. At my vanity, I gaze at my shaken reflection. Save him. Save him from what?

“Temptation Belladonna Falls,
quit being lazy, march your butt down here, and grab your boxes!”

Aunt Sally’s voice jogs me back
into reality. Irritation allows my muscles to work. “I’m coming!” I growl and
then mutter, “Hold your stampede of horses.” Abandoning my thoughts, I escape
with one fearful glance at the empty room. Karma is so going to freak out.

Chapter Two

Rosewood High

           
“I can’t believe it either,” I declare into my cell phone. “To think Rosewood is
a place and not a person. I feel stupid.”

           
Karma laughs on the other end. “At least you found it, right? Wish I could be
there with you.”

           
“Least we can still talk. What do you think I should do?” Karma and I discussed
on numerous occasions what questions we would ask Rosewood, but that plan is
dead.

           
“I guess you’ll have to try and find your dream monster. Ask him what he needs
saving from. You’d better be careful. These creatures sound different from the
ones we’re used to.”

           
“They are different. I thought he was going to laugh at me when I called him a
monster.”

           
“So you have another question; what is he? Make a list. I’ll think up a few
more questions. You sound like you’re out of breath. What are you doing?”

“Crunches.”

“Seriously? I thought you stopped
doing them before bed.”

“It’s the only thing that helps
me sleep. If I wear myself out, I won’t have nightmares of the accident.”

Our flow of words pauses.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s what I hear.”

“Mom’s calling me for dinner.
Call me when you start school. Hope it goes well for you.”

“Me too.” I do not want Karma to
leave, but I say, “Bye.”

Karma hangs up.

I collapse on my four-poster bed
and toss my cell phone on the comforter; exhausted from carrying box after box
into the 3000-square-foot house. “Maybe Aunt Sally buying such a huge house
wasn’t a good idea after all.” A thick baseball bat rests against the bedpost.
I keep sweeping over the area where the monster man vanished. Shivers, similar
to the feeling of carbonated liquid on my tongue, roll down my back and sizzle.
The thought of demonic creatures attacking me whenever they pleased deeply
disturbs me.

As I lounge on the newly made
bed, the scent of the fresh linins wafts through the air. White tarps still
cover the furniture. I have been so busy helping Aunt Sally with cleaning I did
not have time to finish my room. A framed photograph of my parents lies on top
of the veiled dresser. I stare at dad. His facial features mirror his twin brother.
This fact makes it difficult for me to look at Uncle Jack. Mom, on the other
hand, looks like a princess from an Indian fairytale. Away from the photo, a
tower of boxes blocks my bedroom door. No way are those fat, freaky spiders
going to invade my room while I’m sleeping.

Disgusting things.

Speaking of freaky. I stare at
the drapes capturing the darkness so well. Those needed to be open.

Naked legs off the comforter, I
amble over to the bulky drapes and tug on their drawstrings. The drapes part
and give me a grand view of the front lawn. The shadows of the night devour
most of the yard, except where it touches the gravel road. The streetlights
flicker when hypnotized bugs ram into their intoxicating glow. Closer to the
window, I stumble – almost falling. “What the heck?”

A dusty tarp covers an object in
front of the half-circle of windows. I lift it. Dust clouds the air like baby
powder, sparkling with flecks of silver when the streetlight from below hits
the particles. Swiping the dust away, my other hand rests on a window seat
decorated with a couple of lavish pillows in different hues of purple. “Wicked!
My room freakin’ rocks.” The drapes billow, reminding me of my uninvited
visitor. “Well, kind of.” His feral eyes enter my thoughts. Those eyes, shining
in the darkness, possess a frightening promise of abduction.

Still enraptured with the
unexpected treasure and foreboding memories, a sharp howl of the wind derails
my attention. My head snaps up at the faint cackles of children’s laughter. The
frost from my breath spreads out across the glass. Forehead pressing against
the cool glass, I stare down at the road and expel an uncontrolled shriek. Out
in the middle of the street are five teenage boys on motorcycles. Their blank
stares shine in the streetlight like an animal’s eyes. They are not human, nor
are they monsters.

The pale boy at the front of the
line grins like a devil with a contract. He inclines his head to me in a mock
bow. His bleached hair glows as if it were a spiked halo.

He never blinks.

None of the boys do.

Revving up his engine, he speeds
off in the direction of town. The other boys follow and the unsettling laughter
dissipates along with them, abandoning me to the music of crickets.

The bedroom door flies open. The
empty boxes guarding the door sail across the room, hitting me like dodge
balls. I jerk around, knocking my head against the window, and emitting another
horrifying shriek. Dammit, is everyone trying to put me back in the mental
institution.

“What’s the matter, Crazy? Did
the big bad spider – whoa!” Daniel spots the luxurious window seat. “I didn’t
know this room had one of those.”

A trickle of pleasure rolls down
my spine at Daniel’s covetous gaze. “Guess what else I have, genius?” Away from
the fogging window, I stroll over to the bathroom door. “Ta-Da,” I say,
mimicking Daniel’s earlier choice of words.

“I don’t have my own bathroom.
This is my room.”

“Nope. Too bad. You had first
choice and you graciously gave it to me.” Fluttering my eyelashes, I ruffle his
hair as I would a puppy dog. “You’re such a sweet guy.”

His freckled lips part to protest
further, but Aunt Sally strides into the bathroom.

“Wha–?” Aunt Sally touches her
mouth. “This is beautiful! I had no idea this room came with a bathroom.”

“I found it when I moved a few
things around. I also have a window sea–”

“Mom, it’s not fair. Me and
Nathaniel should have this room!” Daniel stomps his foot.

My hands ache to slap him.
Sometimes I wonder how he ever made it into high school.

“It’s Nathaniel and I – and why
are you complaining? You boys have the largest room in the house and there’s a
perfectly fine bathroom across from your room.”

“But–”

“Leave your cousin alone. It’s
time to go to bed anyway. It’s almost midnight and Nathaniel is passed out on
the couch.”

Daniel’s glare weaves an
invisible tale of murder. Aunt Sally places a hand on his shoulder and steers
him out of the room.

Contentment swells in my chest.
Though I dislike Aunt Sally, she does not act like a wicked stepmother from a
fairytale. The covered furniture teases my curiosity. I grasp the cloth nearest
to me and slide it off.

“Wow!” A wooden dresser,
hand-carved with angels and demons, has luminous mirrors on each drawer. They
glitter in the chandelier light. A mirror lay across the top of the
red-mahogany dresser. Though the carvings are beautiful, the carved demons kill
the mood of the whole room. Beneath a separate cotton cloth, reveals a vanity
with the same carvings and mirrors as the dresser. It is awesome compared to
pressed wood bookcases and cheap dressers that I am used too. I stare at my
reflection. My hair stops at my waist and matches my bohemian tank top and
jeans airbrushed with tribal designs similar to henna tattoos.

A smile forms on my blood-red
lips. The jeans, a gift from Karma, warded off many impish creatures in
Urbanna. Hopefully it will keep working in Rosewood.

A burly object in the
shadow-laden corner catches my attention. I move away from the vanity. The
object draws me nearer like a magnetic pull. I yank on the cloth. A wardrobe,
matching the rest of the bedroom furniture, almost touches the ceiling. Its
doors creak. I grip the sleek knob and peer inside.

Shining eyes leap out.

Too startled to invoke any sound,
I shut my eyes and lift my arms to ward off my predator.

Nothing.

No roaming hands or even breath
caress my tingling skin. A tiny sound, similar to the beat of a ceiling fan,
stops at the window. The small creature spread its’ wings, desperate to escape
the bedroom.

I relax. “Crap, I’m going to have
high blood pressure before I even turn twenty.” I march over to the creature
cowering next to the window. As I open the window, it flies off into the night.
“Stupid bats.” I kneel on the window seat and lean against the frame. “Guess
they’re better than spiders, though.”

The wind whistles through the
cracked window, reminding me of my strange moment with the motorcycle gang.
“Probably the town’s wannabe bad-asses,” I speak my thoughts aloud. Tomorrow
ends my last day of freedom before school. Friends are fine, but minimal
attachments mean an easier life. I do not want to get hurt again. Everyone
dies. Nothing is timeless.

The following day Daniel and
Nathaniel run off after lunch, leaving the majority of the unpacking to Aunt
Sally and I. Uncle Jack calls mid-afternoon and, to Aunt Sally’s
dissatisfaction, says he will be arriving in a couple of weeks. By suppertime,
we finish hauling the white tarps off the furniture.

After a filling supper of fried
chicken and biscuits, I stumble up to my bedroom. Following a long bath, I slip
beneath the crisp sheets of my bed. The house hums lullabies and whistles tunes
to lull its sleeping occupants into a dreamy wonderland. I love the idea of
having the most individual room in the old-fashioned house, but the noise makes
me uneasy. I toss and turn most of the night. Waking up several times to the
sound of creaking, I swear I heard footsteps. Once or twice, I thought someone
breathed across the side of my neck. I only manage to sleep with the light on
and a baseball bat tucked underneath one arm. When the morning sun bursts
through my window, I realize the source of the strange breathing came from a
cracked window I forgot to close.

I fumble to dress myself for the
first day of school. My nerves kick in. “Stop it,” I say to my stomach. “You’ll
only make it worse for me.”

In front of the mirrors on the
wardrobe, I inspect my black outfit. D-rings and chains hang from my pants,
complimenting my corset-style shirt with long bell sleeves. I decide to leave
my hair down and use natural toned make-up, except for my eyelids, which I dust
with a shimmering silver powder and black eyeliner. If my unapproachable
clothing does not scare people, I know the bindi tattoo across my forehead
will. It practically screams pagan. “Wonder if I’m setting myself up to be
crucified.”

“More like you’re ready burn at
the stake,” Daniel drones from the doorway. “Are you trying to terrify everyone
at school? I hope you realize I’m going to school too and I don’t want your
freak reputation.” He stomps down the hallway, forcing the wiggling spiders to
flee for their lives.

The ceilings tower so high above
Aunt Sally’s head, she had to spare a few spiders and their webs when she
cleaned the hallway the other day. If Daniel keeps up his temper-tantrums, I
will not have to worry about slaying those rogue spiders.

A little fly buzzes in graceful
movements in the air, oblivious to its surroundings. With another twirl, it
rams into a spider’s web; caught forever in the tangled simplicity of a net. It
will never escape the death trap. The tragedy may have been avoided, if only
the little insect paid attention to the danger all around his world. I marvel
at the irony of how the flies’ life equals my own.

I swing my Indy bag over my
shoulder and dash downstairs. As I enter the kitchen, I notice Daniel’s
expression.

Crap, here it comes.

“Mom, make her change! I don’t
want people to give me crap–”

“Daniel–!”

“–because she can’t be normal.”

“Your normal and my normal are
two completely different things. If you don’t like the way I look, make up a
last name, and say we’re not related,” I say. “Our skin color is entirely
different anyway. I doubt people would even be able to tell I had a white
father.”

“Absolutely not!” Aunt Sally cuts
into our argument. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your father, Temptation, and
you do look white. What’s wrong with–?”

“She has a point,” Daniel says,
to everyone’s amazement. “But I have a better idea. I’ll tell everyone you’re
adopted.”

“Daniel!”

“Works for me.”

Aunt Sally blinks at me,
apparently lost for words. Nathaniel breaks the tension when he points out the
time. Ten minutes until school starts. Within one minute, everyone loads up in
the car and we speed into town.

“Great. We still have to
register.” Daniel checks his hair in the passenger mirror. He attempted to tame
his haystack hair with gel, but managed to make it look like thousands of tiny
needles poking out of his head. He plays the part of a celebrity pop star well.

My muscles tense and ache with a
burning desire to yank Daniel’s head back. The idea of him not having
everything the way he wanted scores as an unobtainable pleasure.

Daniel gives himself a satisfied
smirk in the mirror.