The Accidental Kiss (The Kiss Book 1) (5 page)

“Mom, no offense, but I think you’re losing your marbles.”

“My marbles are perfectly in tact, thank you very much.” She bit her bottom lip while she quickly thumbed through the pages. One colorful picture after the next blended together until she stopped. Turning the book to face me, her pinky pointed to a paragraph on the page. “Read this.”

I snatched it off the table and propped the book in my lap. “Eye of knowledge,” was scrawled at top. Scanning the text, I got the basic gist, which was that the ‘eye of knowledge’ was when you were born with a gift to see the future. However there was a catch. In order for the gift to take effect, your lips had to touch another’s and you had to care deeply for said person. It sounded like a whole lot of rules to me.

I glanced over at my mom. “Thank God I don’t have this so called ‘gift.’ What if you found out the person you loved would die? Or that they were doomed to a lifetime of disease?” A shudder ran down my spine. “How awful.”

My mom nervously tucked a strand of her behind her ear, signaling something was off.

“What?” I asked.

When she didn’t respond, it hit me like a Mack Truck. Blood rushed to my ears as I tried to wrap my head around what my mother was implying.

“It can’t be true,” I mumbled.

Remorse in her eyes, she grasped my hand. “I’m sorry baby, but it is.”

“But…I’ve had boyfriends, guys I cared about, and I didn’t see anything. Zilch, nada!”

“Because those were crushes, not love.”

I wasn’t sure what I was more pissed at. The fact my mom dumped this so-called ‘gift’ on me or that she thought she knew my feelings better than I did. My chair pushed back with a loud squeak.

“Just because my blood line supposedly believed in magic and voodoo doesn’t mean I have to. There is no way in hell I can see the future. None. I’m a normal girl.” I stormed out of the room without giving my mom a chance to respond.

The next morning I woke to the smell of fried bacon. My stomach grumbled in response but I ignored it and snuggled deeper under the covers. Reality could wait. Nonetheless, my mom’s confession from last night wouldn’t leave me alone. I slammed a pillow over my head to no avail. The chatter was as loud as ever. Sighing, I kicked off the covers and stared up at the ceiling. A huge chunk of me knew my mom wouldn’t lie about this supposed ‘gift.’ Nonetheless, there wasn’t a shred of evidence to back it up. I had relationships back in Los Angeles that, while fleeting, were deep and meaningful. Not once did I see anything remotely future related when I kissed them. On top of that, my mom didn’t explain why the book was handed down to her. Unless…. I bolted upright in bed. Hope ignited inside me as I skittered out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. Dressed in a tattered old robe, my mom was flipping pancakes at the stove.

“Do you have it?” I asked frantically, out of breath.

“Have what?” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and faced me. When she saw my expression, it dawned on her what I was asking. Her eyes softened with pity. “No sweetie. It’s a special gift.”

“Special gift my ass,” I grumbled. The air left my body as I slumped into a chair and cradled my chin. “Why did the story about the near death accident prompt you to confess?”

“Because he’s like you.”

“He can also see the future?”

My mom turned down the heat on the stove. “Well no, but he is part of Santeria in a different sense.”

“The biblical sense?”

The image of Daemon stark naked popped into my head. Based upon his chest alone, I had to guess the guy was built in other areas as well. My inner temperature skyrocketed.

I could hear a smile in my mom’s voice when she spoke. “No, you naughty girl. Is there a scar in the shape of a rattlesnake on his left arm?”

My head cocked to the side. “Yes. How did you know that?”

She transferred the pancakes to a plate and set them in front of me. They were burned to a crisp. “It’s the mark of a zombie warrior, at least in the Santeria religion.”

“A zombie,” I sputtered.

Zombies were green and slack jawed with no thinking capabilities of their own. Daemon was the opposite of that.

She nodded. “Yes. They are portrayed differently in movies, but in real life they are like everybody else.” She held up her index finger. “Except for one trait. They have super human abilities to abide their master, like lightening speed for example.”

“Their master?”

“Or priest. Whatever you want to call it. Basically, he died, and then was brought back to life to do this person’s bidding. I asked about the snake because that is how you can tell he is marked. Snakes are common practice in Santeria rituals.”

I couldn’t imagine anybody bossing around Daemon. He was the cockiest son of a bitch around. Even so, if what my mom said was true then, he was essentially a slave. A dead slave who looked very much alive.

“But I don’t understand. Why would anyone want to kill somebody only to bring them back alive?” I questioned.

She took a bite of a pancake and grimaced. “God, I need to learn how to cook.” She pushed the offending plate away from her. “Why does anybody commit evil acts? I can’t answer that question honey. All I know from what my mom told me is that these ‘zombies’ cannot be trusted.”

From the little I had interacted with Daemon, it was hard to imagine him having a deceitful side. He was obviously worried about me walking home alone last night, which said something. My mom grabbed my arm, jolting me out of thoughts.

“I am serious, Sky. Interacting with this boy will only bring trouble in your life. Stay away from him,” she said sternly.

Yesterday was the first day of school and I already couldn’t seem to shake Daemon. He was everywhere but I couldn’t tell my mom that. She would worry until her hair turned gray.

“I have no intention of dating him. He’s annoying, cocky, and not to mention dead,” I said, which was the truth.

“Good. If you have further questions, consult the book.” She hoisted herself out the chair. “I need to take a shower and get ready for work.”

Daemon’s superhuman speed was explained, however, how he knew about my gift was not. Halfway out of the door, I called out my mom’s name, stopping her.

“Does anybody else who lives in this town know about my gift, or is there a way to tell I am different?” I asked.

“No. Your gift is your secret to keep.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”

“Just wondering.”

If she found my answer unsatisfying, she didn’t let on. Padding down the hallway, the bathroom door shut with a click. The bacon I had smelled earlier was found in the trashcan along with yesterday’s ruined breakfast. Sighing, I went to the fridge to grab a yogurt. As I ate, my brain processed everything I had been told in the last twenty-four hours. Zombies, voodoo, psychic abilities, it was a lot to handle and life as a normal girl didn’t appear to be an option anymore. Who was I kidding? Normal never stood a chance.

Emily was on the front steps when I arrived at school. Along with her signature button up cardigan, she wore a pair of spiked combat boots that had me green with envy.

Her hand lifted in a casual wave as I approached. “Hey, girl.”

Once Melissa died, a majority of my friends fell by the wayside while I navigated my way though grief. I had no idea how much I missed the company of a girlfriend until now.

“Hey,” I responded. “What are you doing out here?”

“What do you think I am doing? I am waiting for you.”

My mouth opened in a surprise
O
. This simple action had me beaming from ear to ear.

She tugged at my backpack straps with a girlish smile. “I realized I never told you the mystery behind the lockers.”

“That’s right,” I said, unzipping my backpack to take out a folder containing my locker number. “It’s 301”

Emily glanced skyward as if she was counting in her head. I waited, curious why it required a math equation since at my old high school, locker numbers were straightforward. She nodded to herself and hurried toward the front door.

“Come on,” Emily beckoned. “Your locker is all the way towards the end.”

Shoving the folder into my backpack, I pushed open the heavy metal doors. Emily slipped into the hallway while I followed and tried to keep pace with her long strides.

“One year as a prank, the math club switched out the numbers for different math equations,” Emily explained.

My footsteps faltered as I dogged two girls engrossed in a conversation about nothing. “Why didn’t the school change it back?”

“It sets McCord High apart.”

My old high school was like any old establishment: sterile and white, which was why I was charmed when I heard Emily’s answer. Nonetheless, I wondered how the school board would react if they found out a zombie was posing as one of their students. They probably didn’t want to be that unique. Emily skidded to a stop in front of a locker next to the women’s bathroom.

In Vanna White fashion, she gestured to it. “You got the area within an interval. Congrats.”

To me the squiggly lines resembled exactly that, squiggles. “Are you a math genius or something?”

“God, no. I just know this school like the back of my hand.”

I raised my eyebrows skeptically. “Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night.” She playfully punched my arm and laughed, shaking her head. I clicked open the locker and threw my stuff inside. We still had five minutes before class began, enough time to grab breakfast from the vending machine. One measly yogurt did not satisfy my appetite.

“So…” Emily wiggled her eyebrows. “What’s up with you and Mr. Sex-on-Legs?”

I couldn’t go five minutes without somebody mentioning Daemon. He was taking over my life.

Expelling a breath of air, I gathered my composure so my words wouldn’t come out as annoyed as I felt. “Nothing, I hardly know him.”

“It didn’t look that way in the cafeteria. His eyes shined with anger while his body yearned for you.” I gave her a sideways glance and she shrugged. “Sorry, I’m a writer, what can I say?”

“You can never use the word
yearned
again, for starters.”

She gave me a lopsided grin. “What do you have against it? That’s pretty much how you would describe what went down in the cafeteria.”

And here I thought writers had a keen sense of their surroundings, but Emily clearly didn’t. There was no yearning between Daemon and me. He ambushed me yesterday in front of the whole student body and acted as if he was the King of Ireland, when in fact he was a zombie slave indebted to a voodoo priest.