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Authors: P.A. Warren

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BOOK: Reluctant Storm
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Chapter 1
Claire

Have you ever felt the universe was in on a huge joke and you were the victim? I’ve felt like that most of my life and staring at the math problems in this book trying to decipher them until my eyes are crossed to no avail isn’t helping. All that’s happening is I’m getting frustrated. I want to throw the book across the room, only I’m pretty sure it’s frowned upon in the library. Rubbing my face I look up and realize the library has cleared out. Clicking my phone and noticing it’s pretty close to closing time, I quickly shut the book. Just then my stomach lets out a huge growl and I suddenly remember I missed dinner at the quad and now it’s too late. Great. I don’t even know why I’m bothering with this book. It’s pointless trying to learn math when you haven’t the slightest idea what you’re doing.

Standing up I grip the straps of my backpack tightly, and grab my purse. I slowly feel the weight of the bag tug down on my back, making me wince, before I can adjust it. I look out the glass doors as goose bumps cover my arms at the thought of walking in the dark alone. Glancing over at the middle aged librarian, who is now giving me the evil eye, makes it even more imperative that I leave quickly.

Taking a deep breath I hesitantly push the doors open, looking out into the night. The metal is cool on my hands as I push it open and exit the library. I’m not sure when my fear of the dark began, but for my entire life I’ve felt like I’m being watched only there is never anyone there. I went to my mom with these fears and she said I was being foolish. I can hear her now, ‘God’s sake, don’t ask anymore stupid questions’. I kept pushing her about it and when she threatened to send me to a psychologist I quit telling her about it.

Heading out into the windy night, my hair flies into my face getting all tangled and covering my eyes so I can’t see. Groaning, I push my hair out of my face and watch my steps as I walk down the stairs. Noticing the ground is wet makes me realize I missed a rain storm while I was in the library. Glancing around. I inhale the rain scented air deeply. One of my favorite things is the luxury of smelling the air after the rain. A branch cracking from somewhere close behind me causes me to jump and quickly turn around. I expect to see someone behind me only there’s no one there. Conscious of the darkness I reach into my bag and grab my cell phone again, switching on the flashlight app that I downloaded to my phone. As usual my mom still hasn’t called. It doesn’t bother me though, as we don’t have the best relationship and I think once I left for college she washed her hands of me. She’s never shown me the love a mother should show her daughter, only disdain over my presence in her life.

The night is silent except for the soft brushing of leaves from the trees. I walk quickly down the path towards what I consider the safe area, mainly because it’s lit and closer to the dorms than I am now. Crossing my arms, I look around me. I feel extremely off kilter and unsafe, only I’m not sure why. It feels as though someone is watching me and following my every move. Clutching my keycard, I start to walk even faster, feeling the need to get to the safety of my room. I walk as fast as I can without taking my eyes off the doorway. Finally reaching the lit doorway I slide my card through breathing a sigh of relief as the red light turns green. It’s not until the door shuts with a soft click that I finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Walking quickly up the stairs, I turn the corner and run straight into a human brick wall knocking myself to the ground and causing all my books to scatter in different directions, looking up the person moves and holds a hand out.

“Whoa there,” the brick wall sputters, “You okay?”

I brush the hair out of my eyes and stand up with a jerk, then I turn and find myself eye level with the one guy whose presence I’ve never been in but his reputation precedes him, Jason Dumont. His crystal blue eyes stare into my green ones and I find it hard to pull myself out of his stare. It’s like my only focus is staring into his eyes, memorizing them. Blinking, he looks away befuddled and I know what he’s thinking; quiet mousy girl who ran him down is keeping him from something important. He’s built like a brick wall, I know this as I’ve felt the impact of it and I’ve watched him hit on other girls and the entire time, wishing it was me. He has the body of a Greek God that practically lives in the gym. Licking my lips I scrutinize the dark shirt that’s hugging his chest in all the right places and his hair is this dark blonde color with highlights that girls would pay good money for. It’s cut into a short messy style on his head, which looks pretty amazing to say the least. He has a skull tattoo on his right arm and there is just something about him that says ’I can kick your ass’.I come back down to earth, his fingers in my face snapping, “Did you hit your head on the fall?”

Immediately blushing, which annoys me, I shake my head and grab my books whispering a quick “thank you” before running to my room without a backward glance. Slamming my door I stumble to my bed and sit down trying to calm my racing heart staring at the soothing blank wall, I never covered in pictures when I moved in like everyone else does. I didn’t want memories of home or my mom and frankly my roommates side of the room looks like
Pepto Bismol exploded so my blankness is soothing to me after waking up to the ugly pink walls. Why do I always somehow make a fool out of myself? Just for once in my life I want to be one of those kick ass women, instead I get run over by one of the hottest guys in school.

Jerking my head away from those thoughts I lift the comforter that’s hanging down over the side of my bed and pull out a clear plastic container holding some of my most prized possessions. Sitting back I open it up setting the cover to the side and pull a very old and much
worn leather book my grandmother gave me a very long time ago. I only met her one time, it was she who actually found me one day five years ago when my mom was at work, I was fifteen. I pull the book to my chest, hugging it and thinking back to that day…

***

When I heard the knock, I was really surprised since I had no friends and mom rarely had visitors. I slowly opened the door to find a regal lady with upswept brown hair, dressed in a fancy pantsuit like you would see on the runway, standing there with a boy about my age. She didn’t even wait for me to invite her in, just walked in like she owned the place with the boy following her. I studied the boy; he was dressed in a plaid blue and red shirt and jeans, with his hands in his pockets. He looked around the room nervously until his eyes met mine and I couldn’t help the shiver that went through me.

“Darling, what is your name?” she asked.

“Claire,” I replied, biting my lip nervously.

She pulled out a cigarette and lit it blowing out a puff of smoke into my face.

“Say hello to your grandmother, Claire.” She took another deep inhale from the cigarette.

“Hello Grandmother,” I repeated.

Pointing towards the boy with the cigarette, she took a drag releasing her breath before speaking, “This is Mikail; I know that means nothing right now, but one day it will. He’s just like you.”

Crinkling my nose, I moved away from her, waving the smoke away with my hand. Who was this woman that came in here like she owned the place? And what does she mean that this boy, who stands there awkwardly watching us, was going to mean something to me one day?

Looking at me, she beckoned me to her, staring me straight in the eyes and I watched as her eyes turned completely black. “Come closer to me, Claire.”

Shaking my head no I backed away from her.

All of a sudden she laughed clapping her hands and said, “Well, this is greatly unexpected.”

“What is unexpected?”

“Why you my dear. You. You!” She exclaims excitedly. “Your father is going to be so proud of you one day.”

My stomach did a crazy dance, “My father? Will I ever get to meet him?” I asked her as the excitement at the mere thought coursed through me.

“Right now it’s best you don’t. Maybe one day, although I’m not sure even then if it will be a good idea.”

I watched as she leaned down and carefully pulled a brown leather book from her purse. She lovingly caressed before handing it to me gently and clasped my hands under hers. She whispered something in an unintelligible language before letting go of my hands.

“This is yours to keep, It’s called a Maji don’t let anyone but you touch it or take it. It’s a prized possession of your father's and will be of use to you when you are older.”

Snuffing out the cigarette, she pulled me close and gave me an awkward hug, “I have to leave now before your mother comes home.”

Grabbing her bag she took another look at me and stopped, “Always know that your father has his own agenda, and always keep one eye open with him, he is doing what has to be done and will find you when the time is right, whether that will be a good thing or a bad thing we have yet to know.”

I simply nod, not knowing what else to do. My mind was filled with everything she had said in those past few moments. My dad may or may not find me and when he does it may or may not be a good thing. That was a lot to wrap my head around.

Before exiting she turned towards me, “One day I will send Mikail to you. When I do, trust him. There are many evil forces out there and you cannot trust those that play the foe all the time. Remember that and you will survive in this world.”

***

A door slamming somewhere in the dorm shakes me out of my stupor of memories and I quickly put the book under my pillow and get into pajamas settling in for the night with my only link to my dad and grandmother an old leather book, the Maji. Just as my head hits the pillow, a shiver runs through me and I can’t help but feel as though something unpleasant is about to happen. Burrowing under the covers and pulling them up to my nose, I close my eyes for another long dreamless sleep. Only this time, I dream.

Breathing heavily I’m trapped in a dark room chained to a wall, and somewhere water drips that would drive a sane man crazy. Something fuzzy runs over my foot and when I kick my leg out it squeals and runs away. How did I get here? Lifting my hand in front of my face, only I can’t find it. It’s so dark in here it’s as if I were blind. Hearing heavy footsteps in front of the door and I start having a panic attack. My heart starts pounding in my chest uncontrollably; I’m having the hardest time breathing as I hear the key turn in the lock. Wide eyed I stare as the door hits the wall and there’s a man standing in the doorway, only able to make out his silhouette, until he switches the light on and what I see terrifies me and I know what’s going to happen. Shaking I start whispering “no…no—“

I wake with a gasp looking around realizing I’m still in my room. It was just a dream. Sitting up I scoot closer towards the wall. In the process of scooting over, I manage to knock over some things on the shelf next to my bed. Trying to calm my breathing down I stare into the darkness, it was just a dream, but it felt so real. Taking a few more deep breaths still trying to calm my racing heart I lift my hand to my chest and pull it back noticing my shirt is soaking wet from sweat.

Standing up I grab a clean shirt and slipping that one on, I toss the old one carelessly onto the floor. Staring down at the bed as if it were responsible for my dreams wasn’t going to help me get to sleep. Knowing I have an early day tomorrow, I turn the light on and lay down. I don’t care how old I am, the light is staying on. Adjusting my pillow, I feel for the Maji under it, and when my hand touches the leather it burn
s my fingertips. Pulling them back quickly, I lift the pillow up and put my hand over it and notice it’s radiating heat, something it’s never done before. Not wanting to touch it I move my pillow to the other side of the bed. Yawning, I lay down, not sure what to make of the dream or the Maji, but before I can contemplate, it further I’m sucked into the lost oblivion also known as sleep.

Chapter 2
Jason Dumont

I stand staring with a small grin as Claire runs away. It takes everything in me not to chase after her. After what her father did to me she’s lucky I haven’t snapped her neck, like I could easily do. Rubbing my knuckles as I catch a glimpse of her walking past the corner, I quickly turn away, checking for any bystanders that may have observed the interaction. Thankfully I see none.

Knocking her down was a total accident. I’d left my window open so I could climb in the dorm room after following her home, just hearing her succulent heartbeat, its pace giving her nervousness away made my mouth water. Normally I hide in the alcoves so I can make sure she gets to her room only tonight I was held up by some girl. Everyone thinks I’m this huge player with the girls around here, which is exactly what I want them thinking and let’s face it; it does help with the ladies. It’s what I compelled them to think and say. I have to keep my cover somehow, and not to sound conceited, but I’m pretty good looking. At least enough that if I didn’t play the field they would think I swung for the other team.

Finally hearing the door shut I quietly move from the middle of the hall, and head back to my room. I grab a towel, soap, and shampoo and head to the showers, anything to get that girls cloying perfume off of me. Turning the knob, I slide the curtain back and step in adjusting the nozzle so it sprays directly on my head. I let the warm water run down my face and I think about what brought me here in the first place.

When Antony gave me the life or death ultimatum I angrily took the job. I don’t get what the big deal is; I’ve met hundreds of girls prettier than her and yet she’s something more. For some reason though, I can’t pinpoint what it is. Clenching my fists so hard around the metal bar on the side of the shower, I don’t realize until I pull away that I’ve bent it. The fact that I’m here to protect this girl pisses me off, I don’t get why Antony is forcing me to do his bidding. Why me? Hitting my palm against the tiled wall, denting it, I let the water flow over my head and down my tense shoulders. The whole situation with Antony is confusing. He’s lucky someone hasn’t bonded with her yet.

I’ve always been told that once we find our bond mate we are mated until that bond is broken. In order to start the bonding process we would have matching tattoos that appear over our hearts the first time we kissed. Completing the process requires switching of blood, and the last stage is the actual bonding together that is part of the mating process. To break the bond we would have to either kill one of the bond mates or have a witch take off the tattooed name, which would diminish the spell. It is easier to kill the bond mate than find to find a witch, witches are sneaky creatures and don’t really like vampires, for good reason though. They will never forgive us for the Salem Witch Trials and all that pesky mess. Growling, I turn the shower off, wrapping a towel around my waist before I head back to my room.

Taking another long look towards her dorm room, I shake my head at how pathetic I’m being. The fact that it’s taking everything in me not to break down the damn door and have my way with her is maddening. What the hell is it about this girl? She’s nothing to me, less than nothing to me, and yet I can’t turn my mind off of her. Slamming my door in anger, I grab a donor bag of blood, ripping the top off with my mouth greedily sucking its contents. I wince as the cool blood hits my throat. I was in too much of a hurry to warm it up. Feeling the blood flow in my body, I find myself relaxing, becoming less tense. I don’t care for blood bank food but finding live food isn’t doable right now. Explaining a dead dorm student is something I’m not about to do.

Sitting at my laptop I turn the screen on and watch Claire lying in her bed reading. I installed cameras in there one day while she was in class; I thought it was brilliant on my part, although if anyone found out they would think I was some psycho stalker or something, which wasn’t too far off the mark. Grabbing another blood bag, I quickly down it while staring at the screen closely for anything out of the normal. I text Antony, yes, text. He’s finally figured it out and it’s easier than having to explain who is calling. Sliding my finger down the contacts list I find his; The King of Hell, yeah original, I know.

Me: All is fine here. Claire is sleeping like a log.

The King of Hell: Good. Any issues?

Me: Nope.

The King of Hell: Good. Talk to you later.

Staring down at the phone I shake my head. Man of many words right there. I turn the phone to vibrate and let myself fall back onto the bed and eventually drift off into a restless sleep.

BOOK: Reluctant Storm
5.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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