Daughter Trilogy Bundle (32 page)

Clara appraises the blond beauty standing in front of her, and then she swallows hard.

"Yeah.  No problem," she mumbles.

"Great.  I'll go grab my purse," Camara says with a smile.

Clara turns toward me with wide eyes as she whispers.  "Hell no.  You don't need to be friends with a girl that hot.  She's bound to try to make a move on your man.  And did you see her eyes?  They're so
… wild."

I snicker slightly, partially because I know Camara can hear every word she's saying, and partially because of the word Clara used to describe Camara's eyes - wild.  She has no idea how
wild
Camara really is.

"She's not like that.  She's got her sights on someone else anyway.  His name is Deacon," I say teasingly, since I know Camara is listening in.

"Okay, I'm ready," Camara chirps as her eyes scold me for my remark.

I give her a taunting glance, and we walk to the elevator.  Greer greets me once we enter the lobby.

"Should I fetch a car, Ms. Titan?" he asks with a chipper welcome.

"That would be great.  Thank you," I say while flashing him a warm smile.

"I was hoping we could walk.  Everyone in New York walks.  I just want a chance to enjoy the hustle and bustle you get to everyday, and it's so beautiful outside," Clara whines.

I don't enjoy the "hustle and bustle" because I've been under lock and key since the last attack.  I can't tell her that though.  This would be so much easier if she was immortal.

I can't believe I just put that sentence together.

I look at Camara, and she's subtly shaking her head to disapprove of Clara's request.  I tighten my lips, and turn back to face Greer.

"Sorry, Greer.  That won't be necessary after all," I say hesitantly.

Camara's eyes admonish me for my lack of backbone around a whiny Clara.  She doesn't know Clara like I do though.

We walk out to the sidewalk, and I'm almost blinded by the light blaring down on us.  There's no overcast at all, and my indoor eyes are not used to the vivid rays.

I smirk at Camara who is also struggling with the sun she's been banished from.  I keep my eyes focused on the ground to hide the green glow as I pull the clouds' protective mask to blur the extreme rays.

"Well, those clouds came out of nowhere," Clara murmurs dispassionately.

Camara smirks slightly at me, and we walk down the sidewalk to a nearby restaurant.

"This place seems pretty cool," Clara says softly, not seeming to even glance at the restaurant she's motioning to.

Her interest in the place gives me hope.  I seize the opportunity to get off the street as soon as possible.

"This place has a wonderful menu I know you'll approve of," I say anxiously.

Please, please, please let this work.

She glances across the street as if she's distracted, and then she turns back to face me.

"This looks perfect.  Maybe we can get a window seat," she gleams.

I smile at her jubilance, and a woman greets us before promptly showing us to a seat not too far from the window we've requested.  Clara stares out with such amusement at the city.

"You're so lucky," she gushes dreamily.

I tilt my head sideways, and then I whisper to Camara in a key too low for Clara to hear.

"Can you give us a minute?"

"I need to go find the powder room," Camara says in an understanding manner, although "powder room" is yet another archaic term.

Clara doesn't even acknowledge her.  She turns to me once Camara is gone.

"I can't believe you moved in with a guy so soon after knowing him.  You're so fearless.  I wish I had moved in with Henry before I married him," she murmurs with a hint of despair.

"What's going on, Clara?" I ask sympathetically for the obvious duress she's in.

"It's nothing.  I didn't mean to come off so pathetic.  How's life with Devin?"

I smile a little and blush.  I can see the swirls of pain still stinging her eyes, and my moment of elation quickly dissipates.

"Tell me.  I'm your best friend.  I know something's wrong," I insist.

She sighs loudly and glances over her shoulder to see if Camara is coming back yet.  When she returns her gaze to me, she looks so sad - nothing like the happy girl she was pretending to be moments ago.

"Henry never does anything besides work.  I saw him more before I lived with him than I do now.  I always thought it would get better after we got married, not worse.  Adisia, I think he's cheating on me.  That's why I drove all the way to New York - to spy on him like some crazy-eyed stalker.  That's where I really was when I called you," she confesses.

I've been here before.  Henry is going to taste what a live wire can do to your insides if he's cheating on her.

"What did you find?" I prompt.

"Nothing.  He went inside a big business and didn
’t come back out during the two hours I was watching.  His car is still there," she says while pointing across the street.

"You weren't far away at all," I murmur, my eyes falling across the street as well.

"No.  I sat out here for a little while longer when I realized how close you were.  I'm so embarrassed, but I don't know what else to do.  Either he's cheating, or he's completely uninterested in me," she cries.

Camara walks back over to the table, and Clara dries her tears quickly.  I can see Camara's empathy staining her face.

"I'm sorry, ladies. I forgot I need to call my mother.  Just order for me please, Adisia," she says as another form for excusing herself.

I whisper in my low key once more.

"Can you spy for her?"

She smirks.  "That's where I'm going.  Pigeons rule the streets of New York.  They're constantly breaking into buildings," she says mischievously.

"Yeah, that's no problem.  Turkey burger?" I continue on, as if there wasn't a private interaction going on.

"Yes please," she murmurs before stepping outside.

I stare at my woeful friend who is whimpering into the dainty napkin as she holds back her howling sobs and confines them to a respectable weep.

"He's probably actually working.  Henry has never shown anyone else the slightest bit of attention in the three years I've known him," I encourage.

"He doesn't show me the slightest bit anymore either.  I just need to know why.  I don't know what I'll find out today, but it'll be more than I knew yesterday.  I'm going crazy," she says through a sniffle as she wipes her eyes again.

"Hey, hey, hey.  Don't do this to yourself.  We'll find out what's going on.  You see Camara?" I ask.

"Yeah.  What about her?"

"Henry doesn't know her.  We can send her to find out what's going on," I offer.

Camara hears the whispered conversation, and returns from her falsified phone call.  She sits back down and waits for me to ask without being too obvious.

Clara nods to give her silent approval, and I lean back to start the charade.

"Can you do us a favor?" I ask while trying to keep a serious face.

"Anything," she responds innocently.

"Can you find this guy in there, and see if he's cheating on Clara?" I ask while handing her a picture I have of Clara and Henry.

She's been looking for someone to say his name.  Now she has a visual aide.  Clara will just have to think she's going in personally.

"I can do that," she says with a smirk.

Then she lowers her voice to a whisper as she walks out the door.

"Give me some cover.  I can't actually leave you here and go inside the building."

I look up at the sky, and the green stirs as the fog begins to drift in and cloak the city streets.  Traffic slows to a near halt, horns begin blowing, and Camara disappears from our sight.

"Whoa.  Freaky fog.  Now I can't see anything," Clara gripes.

"Don't worry.  Camara will find out what's going on."

"I feel like such an idiot," Clara says while burying her head into her hands.

The waitress returns with her perky, ready-to-serve attitude.

"Have you ladies decided what you want?"

"Three turkey burgers and three very strong cosmopolitans as well," I say quickly to dismiss her.

Clara glances up at me to see me smirking.  "You have to have a cosmo while you're on a New York stakeout," I say to lighten her despaired mood.

She laughs slightly as she wipes her nose and eyes.  We look over in time to see Camara walking back in.  She smiles as she sits down.

"He's in a boardroom on the fifth floor.  He's pitching an idea that needs investors.  He's telling them about a condominium build he wants to start.  He's not cheating.  There's a room full of men listening, and only one woman.  If he's cheating on you with her, he needs to be slapped in the face because she's not at all aesthetically pleasing."

Clara laughs in relief, but then more tears fall.

"He just doesn't like coming home then," she whimpers.

"He's probably just trying to give you nice things," I offer.

"I just want him.  I'm so tired of going to bed alone while he sits up on the phone or on the computer.  He's constantly away on business, and I'm sitting in that small town dying alone.  Time is passing us by.  You don't live forever," she mumbles.

Oh no.

How am I going to explain to her about my body not aging?  Will I have to lose my best friend in order to shield her from the truth?  I haven't even thought about this.  My mom, dad, brother… everyone will notice that I'm still the twenty-five-year-old girl that never changes.

Camara swallows hard, as if she sees the core of my inner turmoil.  The fog outside lifts when I realize I still haven't released it.  As soon as it does, I can see three men staring through the window at us.

They're blocking traffic, and carelessly moving toward us without any regard for their safety as more cars screech to a halt to avoid plowing over them.

"We have to go now," Camara prompts.

"Now?  We haven't even eaten," Clara says with confusion.

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out as I stand to my feet.  I motion for Clara to follow us, and she very warily does so.  I don't even say anything before Deacon is blaring into my ear.

"Get the hell out of there.  Go the back way and turn right out of the exit.  Don't go straight to the apartment.  This could just be a fishing expedition," he warns.

"Got it," I murmur with a slightly panicked edge.

I take Clara's hand and throw sixty dollars on the table behind us.  We weave through the people and finally emerge out the back door.  Camara's eyes are glowing with a perfect pale blue as she controls the eyes of the animals around us.

"They're coming in through the restaurant.  We have to go now," she urges.

"Who?  What are you talking about?  What's going on?" Clara insists.

Deacon drops down from the ridiculously high building, and the sidewalk cracks under his feet as he lands beside of us.  Clara screams at his brutally abrupt entrance.

"I knew this was a bloody bad idea.  We have to get out of here," he gripes.

"Who is this guy?" Clara squeals.

"This is Deacon.  He's about to carry you, and he's going to be moving fast.  Please stay quiet and calm," I coo.

She swallows hard, realizing the intensity of the situation.  Deacon scoops her up, and she lets out a startled gasp.  Suddenly we're flashing through the streets of Manhattan, and Clara has her head buried in Deacon's neck to avoid the sharp, biting winds created from the high speed retreat.

Each twist and turn Camara makes is abrupt but calculated.  She can see exactly where they are.

We come to a dead end, and Camara leaps on top of the building.  Deacon and I follow suit.  Clara's eyes are still closed tightly.

Camara's eyes concentrate as she kneels to one knee.  Clara almost cries when she finally opens her eyes.

"Please tell me what's going on," she whimpers.

I sigh out loudly as I try to think of a suitable explanation that's not going to completely freak her out, but the cracking of concrete behind us halts that attempt.

I whip around to see an immortal, not a human.  I can tell by his swirling, uninfected eyes.

"Well, now.  There you are," he says with an ominous smirk revealing itself.

Camara's eyes widen.  She had been looking for the three.  They were just the decoys, and we fell for it.

"What do you want?" Deacon blares.

Clara steps behind Deacon and slumps against a wall.  I can hear her heart pounding fiercely as she nears hyperventilation.

What have I done?  I have just brought Clara into the middle of our fight.

The man is instantly joined by four others, and in a blink we've just been outnumbered in the immortal department.

"Give me the girl tied to Cole, or suffer the consequences," the man demands.