Authors: Anne Violet
Tags: #teen fiction, #young adult, #ya, #Paranormal Romance, #teen romance
Noticing that she wasn’t plating anything for
herself, I looked up at her quizzically. ”Did you already eat?”
“No,” she said a thoughtful look on her face.
“There are just some really important things I need to speak with
you about and I am not sure how you are going to react to it.”
I sighed. This didn’t sound good. Before I
started imagining all manner of horrible things, I gestured with my
hand for her to proceed, might as well get it over with.
“You know most of our family still lives in
Athboy, Ireland. Have you ever thought of visiting there?”
“Yes, I would love too. I just don’t have the
money.” This didn’t sound so bad. Obviously my imagination was too
hyper-active for my own good.
“I am glad to hear that.”
She was glad. Why did I feel like I just
walked into a trap? She seemed more relaxed now, which only served
to make me more nervous. What was going on in that mind of hers? I
watched as she sat back in her chair and gazed out the window to
the garden.
Finally she turned back to me, a strange
gentle look on her face. “Have you ever wondered how you seemed to
just know things? Like that time we were driving down Meridian
Avenue and you made me suddenly pull over and within seconds of
that, that drunk driver plowed through the lane we were just in? Or
how, sometimes you know what someone is going to say or do before
they do?”
I was confused, weren’t we just talking about
Ireland? For the sake of argument I addressed her question at hand.
“I just know. It’s so obvious.”
She looked at me very intently and I could
almost hear a command in her voice. “Did you ever wonder if it is
only obvious to you for a reason?”
“What do you mean?” My meal was forgotten
now.
She interlaced her fingers on the table and
leaned forward. “Maybe you have a gift.”
I leaned back into my chair, away from her
and her strange ideas as I could get. “What are you trying to say?”
I could hear the alarm in my voice.
“You know what type of spirituality our
family practices.”
I gave a slight nod of my head, “of course,
Druidism. I know I have kind of stepped away lately but-”
“Stop right there. I am not trying to guilt
you…” she said gently. “I know you have had a hard time at school
lately because Nicolas took advantage of people’s misconceptions
about our spirituality. That’s not the issue.”
“What is the issue then?” I asked.
“Some of us have gifts and more importantly I
think yours will be stronger than most,” she replied quietly.
Lurching up from my chair, I gave her a look,
like I thought she was mental. “Are you trying to tell me you think
I am some kind of Psychic?”
“Alexis,” she said calmly while watching me
pace back and forth in her small kitchen. “I don’t know exactly
what gift you have or will have. I am only certain that you have
one. Not everyone in our family does, your father doesn’t. It is
not something you can escape, it just is.”
She was serious. I felt both afraid and
angry. I stopped and glared at her. “I don’t want to know what goes
bump in the night and I definitely don’t want to see dead
people.”
She got up and came over to hug me but I
pulled away. “I don’t want to talk about this. I’m leaving.”
I was out the door before she took
another step. I didn’t want to hear another ridiculous word. I
contemplated telling my mom but decided that would only start some
family feud, but maybe I should tell my dad that his mother should
be institutionalized. On the ride home I felt frustrated at
the sixty mph that I had to do most of the way, when what I really
wanted to do was about one hundred twenty, maybe one hundred fifty.
I couldn’t believe she thought I had some magic power. Just because
I had good instincts and was more observant than most people did
not mean I had some mystical gift. I needed to shake this off. I
didn’t want to ruin my date with Christian worrying about this
nonsense.
Once off the freeway and almost back in
Steilacoom, I started to calm down. She had obviously been reading
too many Irish folk tale novels or spending too much time with her
Druidic Grove. Next time I saw her I would have to bring some good
old-fashioned true life murder mysteries. That should help. I
was glad that Christian and I had arranged to meet at Saltar’s
Point. I needed to relax for a couple minutes before our date.
Maybe even meditate a little.
After parking, going down and finding my
usual spot, I took off my coat, laid it over the gravel and relaxed
back against the driftwood. Taking a deep breath in and exhaling, I
felt the same peace I always felt in Steilacoom. It was too
peaceful and lovely to feel miserable for long. I was deeply
appreciative that even though it wasn’t a sunny day, at least it
wasn’t raining.
Feeling inspired, I pulled out my 35mm camera
when I noticed one of the ferries making its usual leisurely trip
across the water to Anderson Island. Which like most islands in the
Puget Sound, rose gently from the water and was covered by so many
tall fir trees that it was a wonder that there was any room for
houses and streets. I could hear the crunch of gravel as
someone approached but I kept snapping pictures figuring it would
still be too early for Christian to arrive. When suddenly a pair of
dark jeans were in my way.
I panned with my camera all the way up the
muscular body until I got to his stunning face and took the
shot. “Hi,” I breathed, letting my eyes travel up and down his
length a couple times. He had a blanket slung over one shoulder and
a bag over the other. He looked adorable in the most casual look
that I had seen him in yet, a dark, plaid button up shirt, over a
deep blue t-shirt and jeans with hiking boots. The urge to jump up
and plaster myself against him waxed strong. It must have shown on
my face too because his eyes seemed to darken and become heavy
lidded. Good Lord, help me. I think I am going to jump
him.
CHAPTER 3
I watched helplessly as one of the sexiest
smiles that has ever graced any man, slowly spread across his face.
“You haven’t been waiting long, have you?”
“No,” I murmured, pulling myself together
enough to stand up so he could lay the blanket down.
As soon as we had settled in, Christian
started pulling a bunch of Tupperware containers out of the bag and
laying them out on the blanket. He had thought of everything,
drinks, silverware, napkins.
“You cook?” I asked, trying to contain my
surprise.
He glanced at me, his lips quirking. “You
don’t?”
“Ah…no,” I admitted.
He raised a brow at this but made no comment.
I opened one of the Tupperware containers nearest me, it was hot
and condensation was already forming on the lid, a delicious smell
emanating from it, “Beef Stroganoff? That’s-- like one of my
favorite dishes. Are you sure you made this?”
He actually looked mildly offended. “My
grandmother taught me how to cook, thank you very much.” I could
tell he was fighting the urge to smile now and so I knew I was
forgiven.
“Do you see your grandparents much?”
His smile faded and his brows drew together.
“I live with them. My parents died a couple of years ago.” He
stopped eating and turned to stare out at the water, a multitude of
emotions crossing his face. One emotion in particular caught
my attention. Was it…guilt? Damn, I was a terrible date. Only I
could have the luck to stumble across something so painful. I
wanted to see that glorious smile again.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. He looked
back at me and I watched as his eyes seemed to pore over my face.
His lips started to turn back up in a smile.
“You really are ridiculously beautiful. You
know that, don’t you?”
I liked the way the compliment had seemed to
just burst from him, like he couldn’t even help it. “I think the
same about you.”
While the smile still resided on his lips I
could see his perfect straight brows had pulled together again.
“What?” I demanded.
“Beautiful is a word to describe a woman not
a man.”
I almost laughed. I couldn’t believe it. Most
guys would love that a woman thought they were so gorgeous that
they rated as beautiful. And here was Christian, who was on the
verge of being so beautiful it should be illegal, thought it was an
insult. “I only meant you are so masculine-ly handsome that
you’re beautiful.”
“You’re forgiven,” he laughed.
Neither of us seemed hungry anymore so we
packed up the food and then laid down on our backs, both of us
looking up at the sky. I closed my eyes and concentrated on
enjoying the moment. I could hear the gentle lapping of the water
on the shore, the happy laughter of a family further down the
beach, the wind gently ruffling my hair and the even breathing of
Christian who was laying so close to me. I thanked god he wasn’t
one of those guys that seemed to bathe in cologne. I had to inhale
deeply to smell it. I considered asking him the name of it and then
decided not to, I liked the mystery. Abruptly, I felt his
hands underneath my arms and he flipped me over so that the upper
half of my body was laying on top of him. I couldn’t hide my
amazement.
“Is this all right?” he queried, softly.
“Yeah,” I sighed, folding my arms across his
firm chest. He felt perfect and for awhile we just indulged in a
little mutual admiration. Finally, I closed my eyes, rested my chin
on my arms and let the feelings of happiness and security wash over
me. I did feel safe with him and--complete. It was nice.
A moment later, I felt the warmth of his
hands as he gently sunk them into the lengths of my hair. He
started with a slight massage at my scalp and then slowly he drew
his hands through to the ends of my hair, only to start the process
over again. Without even thinking I found myself leaning in towards
his touch. “Mmm…that feels good.”
I finally opened my eyes to gaze at him and
felt my heart melt. There was such a soft tenderness in his dark
eyes. My stomach felt all aflutter and I could hear how fast my
heart was beating.
His hands still deep in my hair, he cradled
the back of my head and looked intently into my eyes. “You look
like a little cat. Are you sure you’re not purring?”
I finally let loose the giddy smile that he
always inspired and watched with pleasure as he smiled back.
Eventually his eyes drifted to his hand where he was slowly winding
a tendril of my hair around his finger. He seemed fascinated by the
different red tones in it.
“You have the softest hair, what do you use?”
he breathed.
“It’s a state secret. I could tell you but
then I would have to kill you.”
His head jerked back to gape at me and then
he started to laugh. His chest was moving up and down so much he
almost dislodged me. I was completely charmed though, glad that I
could make him so happy. I had a feeling he wasn’t naturally so
light-hearted. I decided right here and now, that I would always
try to put a smile on his face. There were some things I was
curious about though. “Christian, I don’t want to hurt your
feelings-- but why haven’t I seen you around before?”
He glanced away then looked back up at me
considering. He sighed. “I was in rehab for awhile.”
I tried not to react. I didn’t want him to
think I judged him in any way, but I was pretty shocked. There was
nothing about him that suggested he was an addict or an
alcoholic.
“I’m sorry; I keep asking the wrong
questions.” I started to get up but his arms held me down.
“No,” he breathed, “I want you to know.” He
took another deep breath and slowly let it out. “When my parents
died… I didn’t handle it well. I looked for any escape I could. I
was pretty good at hiding it, no one knew.”
I watched as he swallowed hard. It was
obviously more difficult to talk about than he was trying to let
on. “I knew it was getting out of hand though, doing things-- I
could never take back. Worst of all, I knew how disappointed they
would be if they knew. So I checked myself in.”
Softly I ran my hand down his face. “I’m
sorry.”
He arched a brow at me. “Don’t be, it’s not
your fault.”
I decided to change the subject; I didn’t
like seeing him so sad, like he felt unworthy of me or something.
“Can I ask you another question?”
“Sure,” he shrugged, relaxed again.
“Why aren’t you worried about the rumors
about me?” I was sure he had heard them.
That softness resided in his eyes again as he
gazed at me. “You mean about you stalking your ex?” his tone was
full of disbelief.
“That’s one of them,” I
murmured. Without warning, he rolled me onto my back; the hand
of his arm he was leaning on was cupping my head while his other
hand was holding my waist, slowly drawing circles with his thumb.
All thought completely drained from my head. The way he looked at
me told me he knew exactly what I was feeling. His expression
darkened as he continued to gaze at me. “I saw how he was following
you from class to class… the arguments. I was ready to step in at
the slightest sign that you needed it but you always handled it.” I
saw admiration fill his gaze. “How did you get him to finally stop
and drop out of school?”
I thought back upon that time and felt the
same feelings of fear and uncertainty sweep through my body all
over again. I felt myself start to tremble and I wrapped my arms
tight around Christian and pulled him down over me until I was sure
I had disappeared from sight.
Both of his hands came up to cradle my face.
“Alexis,” he breathed.
I could tell he wanted me to look up but I
didn’t feel I had it together enough yet to do that. I stayed
tucked into his neck and shoulder, breathing his cologne deeply, to
calm myself.