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Promise
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PROMISE
by
Kristie Cook
*****
SMASHWORDS EDITION
*****
PUBLISHED BY
Kristie Cook/Ang'dora Productions, LLC
On Smashwords
This book is also available in print at all major retailers.
Promise
Copyright © 2010 by Kristie Cook
*****
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
For Shawn, Zakary, Austin and Nathan Cook
And Chrissi Jackson
Acknowledgements
A ginormous thank you to all of you who helped make this a reality, either through direct involvement
or much appreciated moral support.
My parents, Valerie Templeton and Danny & Keena Perguson, and all of my "boys," Shawn, Zakary, Austin & Nathan Cook, for your patience, understanding and support.
My biggest cheerleader, supporter and the best business partner, Chrissi Jackson; and Terry Frank and Lisa Adams. Without
your encouragement, this would still be a fun little
indulgence never seen by anyone else.
My first readers, the girls: Alys Roark, Heather Call, Lesley Turnpaugh and Charlotte Waldon, for giving me your time and support when this was still just a mess of words.
And thank you, reader, for giving me this opportunity to touch your life, if only for a few hours. I hope you enjoy
this story and come back for more.
Chapter 1
9 Years Ago
The sensation of being watched clung to me like a spider web, invisible threads bristling the back of my neck and down my spine. I brushed my fingers across my shoulders, as if I could drag the feeling off and flick it away.
It was ridiculous, of course. Not just ridiculous to think I could pull it off so easily, as if it really was strands of a web, but it was even more absurd to feel it in the first place. Nobody ever held that much interest in me. Sure, sometimes people stared with curiosity when they picked me up on their "weird radars," but usually they just ignored me. No one ever watched so intensely.
Yet the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end at the feeling as I visited my favorite Washington, D.C., monument for likely the last time. I sat on the stone steps with the stately Thomas Jefferson behind me and gazed over the Potomac River tidal basin, enjoying the peace just before sunset. Well, trying to enjoy it anyway.
I blamed the feeling on my unruly imagination, with it being twilight and the sky looking so ominous. It was the perfect setting for one of my stories. The sun hung low—an eerie, orange ball glowing behind a shroud of clouds, a column of steel-blue rising around it, threatening to snuff it out. I envisioned something not-quite-human watching it from the shadows, waiting to begin its hunt under the cover of darkness.
That's all it is, just my fascination with mythical creatures, I told myself. Uh-huh. Right.
Surrendering hope for a peaceful moment, I hurried to the closest Metro station. The feeling of being followed stuck with me on the train ride home, but at my stop in Arlington, I forgot the spooky sensation. Some kids from school stood near the top of the escalator as I stepped off.
"Hey, there's the weird girl who heals," one of them said loudly to the others. "It's s'posed to be really freaky to watch."
"Hey, freak, got any tricks to show us?" another called.
I pretended not to hear and crossed the street to avoid them. My eyes stung, but no tears came. I wouldn't allow them. It was my own fault—I'd been a klutz with the Bunsen burner in Chemistry and my lab partner saw my skin heal the burn almost instantly. Kids harassed me about it every day the last two months of school. If I didn't let them get to me, they were usually just annoying. Usually.
Night had crept its way in during my ride home. I walked quickly through the bright commercial district and turned down the darker residential street for home, still four blocks away. Footsteps behind me echoed my own. I quickened my pace. Two more days. That's all. Just two more days and we're out of here.
"C'mon, dude, we just wanna know if it's true," a boy's voice said.
"Yeah, just show us. It doesn't hurt, right?"
I glanced over my shoulder. Three teens followed me and I caught the glint of a blade in one of their hands. I realized their plan to satisfy their curiosity—slice me open and watch the wound heal. What is wrong with people? Of course, it hurts! Bungalow-style homes lined the street, each with an empty front porch. Not a single person sat outside on this summer's evening. No one to witness their fun and my agony. My heartbeat notched up with anxiety.
Pop! Crack! The streetlights along the entire block blacked out at the sounds. I inhaled sharply and halted mid-stride. The footsteps behind me ceased, too.
"What the hell?" Surprise and fear filled the boy's question.
A couple appeared from nowhere, about twenty-five yards down the street. It was too dark to see their features. I could only tell their genders by their shapes. The woman's high-heeled shoes clicked on the pavement as they walked toward me. The man, big and burly, pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to the woman. Without breaking stride, he took off one shoe and then the other, leaving him with only pants. What the…?
I considered my options. The woman and her half-naked companion blocked my way home, but I wouldn't just raise my chin and walk brusquely by them, pretending they meant no harm. Because I just knew they did. I stood trapped between the boys with the knife and the odd couple. Somehow, I knew the knife was less threatening.
"Boo!" The woman cackled as the boys took off running. As she and the man closed in on me, the alarms screamed in my head.
Evil! Bad! Run! Go!
My sixth sense had never been so frightened. I couldn't move, though. Fear paralyzed my body. My heart hammered painfully against my ribs.
The couple stopped several yards away. The woman studied me as if assessing a rare animal. The man lifted his face to the sky, his whole body trembling. I followed his gaze to see the thin, gauzy clouds sliding across a full moon. The woman cackled again. Panic sucked the air from my lungs.
"Alexis, at last," the woman said, her voice raspy, like a long-time smoker's. "We'll get such a nice reward for you."
My eyes widened and my voice trembled. "D-do I know you?"
She grinned, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Not yet."
Or ever, if I can help it.
I turned and ran. My pulse throbbed in my head; breaths tore through my chest. My mind couldn't focus, couldn't make sense of it, but my body kept moving. The bright lights of the commercial area I'd just come from shone like a beacon. I ran for their safety.
The woman abruptly appeared in front of me before I was half-way down the street. The shock sent me hurling to the ground and my head smacked hard against the pavement. Stars shot across my eyes. My hands burned from asphalt scrapes. Fighting the blackness trying to swallow my vision, I rolled onto my side, gasping for breath. A sticky wetness pooled under my temple.
M
y eyes rolled up to the woman, who now pointed some kind of stick at me. Her lips moved silently as she waved a pattern in the air. I felt pinned to the ground, though nothing physically restrained me. Panic flailed uselessly below the surface of my paralyzed body, making my breaths quick and shallow. I was done for. They could do anything they wanted with me. There was no escape now.
My vision faltered. Now two women stood over me, two sticks pointed at me. Two moons wavered behind them. I didn't know if it was fear or the head injury that caused everything to slide apart and together again. I squeezed my eyes shut.
But I couldn't close my ears, couldn't block out the gnarl. My eyes popped open with terror. The feral sound came from the man. His eyes rolled back, showing only whites. His hands clenched into fists. His muscles strained, the veins protruding like ropes along the bulges. His body shook violently. The edges of his shape became a blur.
"I can't hold it!" he growled.
"Then don't," the woman said. "Don't fight it. It's time!"
A ripping sound tore through the night as the man lurched forward, his skin shredding. A gelatinous liquid spurt out of him like an exploding jar of jelly. His pants tore into ribbons as his body lengthened and grew. The shape of his limbs transformed. His face elongated, his nose and mouth becoming a… Holy crap! A snout?! I gasped, a scream stuck in my throat. By the time his front…legs…hit the ground, fur covered his body. He was no longer man. He was wolf. A freakin' wolf?!
The wolf moved closer, a low growl in its throat. Its stench of decaying corpses and rotting leaves overwhelmed my sensitive nose, gagging me and forcing me to breathe through my mouth.
Pop! Another woman appeared. Her pale skin glowed and her white hair shimmered in the moonlight.
"I smell blood," she said, her voice a flutter of wind chimes. "Mmm…delicious blood."
The scrapes on my hands had already healed, but not the cut on my head. It must have been deep enough for normal people to need stitches. For me, it could take ten minutes to heal. So my blood was still fresh.
I could only smell the wolf's rancid odor as it hovered over me.
"Back off, mutt," the white-blonde snarled as she stepped closer. "This is too important for the likes of you!"
"How dare you!" Stick-woman gasped. "We had her first!"
"Alexis is mine. Always mine!"
What the hell is happening?! What do they want with me? Whoever they were, they wanted to do more than just scare me. I could hear it in the way the blonde said I was hers. She wanted me to hurt…or worse. Cold fear slid down my spine and hot tears burned my eyes.
Pop! A man materialized in the darkness and strode toward me. My heart jumped into my throat. Not more! The wolf growled. Both women hissed. Goose bumps crawled along my skin.
The man stepped in front of me, placing himself between me and the others.
Good! Very good! Safe! My sense slightly calmed me.
"You're alone?" the blonde asked. "Ha! You haven't a chance."
The wolf lunged at my protector. He raised his hands and thrust them out toward the beast. It flew back as if blasted by something unseen. I heard a thud and a whimper as it hit the pavement. I blinked several times, disbelieving what I just saw.
The women hissed again. The first one raised her stick, pointing it at my protector. The blonde took a step toward me.
Pop! Another person appeared, between the two women and my human shield. The women responded immediately. Their teeth gleamed in the moonlight as their lips spread into grins.
No way could my protector stand up against this second man. The new one was taller, wider in the shoulders, thicker in the torso and arms than my protector, who was now out-numbered and out-muscled. The second man took a single step toward us. I didn't dare look up at him, afraid of what I might see. But I felt his eyes rake over me. My trembling turned to quakes.
Evil? Good! (evil?) No, very good!
Again, my sense screamed loudly, and, again, it surprised me. It never questioned itself, never sounded so confused. It settled on good as he turned to face the women and their expressions darkened.
I swatted down a leap of hope. The attackers still out-numbered my protectors.
The wolf, now back on all fours, stalked toward us. The fur on the back of its neck rose. Hunger shone in its eyes as its lips curled back in a snarl. Its pace quickened, my heart galloping with it. It lunged once more. I tried to scream. My constricted throat only allowed a whimper.
Then the wolf flew backwards again and fell to the ground a second time. The bigger man's hand hung in the air, palm straight out facing the wolf, as if he'd hit it, but I never saw the contact.
Both women eyed me with obvious greed. Then their eyes shifted back to my brawny protector and confusion and even fear flickered across their faces. He turned his hand toward them. Their eyes widened, looking as terrified as I felt.
They disappeared with two pops.
"I got Alexis! Take care of that one!" The lankier man easily lifted me into his arms and sprinted toward my house. The beast's stench continued to fill my head, a persistent odor that wouldn't leave even as distance separated us.
A wolfish howl behind us diminished into a human cry of pain. I shuddered in the arms of the stranger.
***
"Alexis, honey." Mom's voice, soft and distant, pulled me out of unconsciousness. "Honey, it's time to get up."
"Huh?" I mumbled, disoriented, my eyelids fluttering as I came completely awake.
"We need to go."
I squinted at her against the brightness of daylight. She knelt on the floor next to me, where I was wrapped in a blanket, a pillow under my head. How did I get here? The last thing I remembered was the stranger running with me in his arms. Renewed fear gripped me and I sat up with a gasp. Pain shot from the base of my skull to the backs of my eyelids. I pressed my fingers to my temples. Was it real? I examined my hands. No scrapes. I touched my head. No bump or cut. It meant little, though. They would have been healed by now anyway.
"What happened last night?" I asked, my voice husky.
"Hmm?"
I started to tell her about my night. Her brows pressed together as I told her about the boys with the knife.
"I can't believe how mean kids can be," she interrupted. "You should have let me move you after the burn."
I shook my head, just once. It hurt too much to move it more than that. She misinterpreted it, though, thinking I still protested her offer to move to avoid my humiliation. I hadn't wanted to leave so close to graduation. But that happened months ago. It didn't matter anymore.
"I know," she said. "We're moving now and you can have a fresh start."
"No, that's not it. There was this couple in the street, too. And the man…he changed into a…a werewolf. And the woman—I think she was a witch."
Mom's eyebrows arched. "Honey, do you realize what you're saying?"
I did. And it sounded ludicrous. In fact, in the morning light, I knew it was more than ludicrous—it was absolutely impossible. But it had felt so real….
Confused, I studied her inhumanly beautiful face. She always said we had similar features—chestnut hair, almond-shaped, mahogany eyes, smooth, light-olive skin—her words, not mine. It described her in an understated way and was overkill for me. I resembled her, but she looked like an angel and I looked like her very human daughter.
She also looked, impossibly, twenty-six years old. Mom didn't age. By the time I was fifteen, we had to tell people we were sisters because she looked too young to be my mother. I called her Sophia in public, but Mom in private.
"You have the wildest dreams," she said with a small smile. She nodded and patted my arm.
"But—" I pulled my arm from her, knowing what she was doing.
"It was a dream, Alexis. We don't have time to discuss it," she said, an edge to her voice now.
Right. A dream. That makes more sense. Something deep inside, past the throbbing in my head, denied that theory, but there was really no other
explanation. Witches and werewolves…people appearing and disappearing…. How can that be real? Logic told me it couldn't but…my intuition knew something happened.
I broke my eyes from hers to hide my denial. It just didn't feel right to challenge her now. My head hurt too much to argue, feeling like someone jabbed around in my brain while I slept. Also, the stony look on Mom's face told me to drop it.
I glanced around the living room and noticed the emptiness for the first time—no furniture, no boxes stacked against the walls, nothing. "Where is everything?"
"Packed in the moving truck." She sounded nonchalant, as if it made perfect sense.
"What?"
It didn't make sense at all, actually. That wasn't the plan. Mom was supposed to break up with her boyfriend last night and we would pack the truck today and leave for Florida tomorrow. Why the sudden rush? She didn't believe my story, so that couldn't be it. It had to be the boyfriend. It was almost always the boyfriends.
"We need to get out of here," she said. "Now."
I knew the tone and moved as quickly as my aching head allowed. Our moves always felt like forced escapes. Sometimes it was because of an accident, but most often because of the boyfriends. Though this move had actually been planned, it now had the familiar feeling we were once again making an escape. At least this time I knew where we were going and why.
I still felt sluggish as we traveled south on I-95. Images of the werewolf and the witch flashed through my mind. I fell asleep and dreamt about them, but they were good in this dream. Not monsters. And they fell in love. I spent a good portion of the trip outlining a book about their supernatural romance, my first full-length novel that I felt compelled to write immediately.
As the drugged feeling lifted and I could think clearly, I analyzed those strange events. People tried to hurt me and possibly wanted to kill me. I thought. Maybe the werewolf and the witch and the other bizarre parts weren't real. Maybe I hit my head harder than I realized and imagined those parts. Or maybe the real events mashed up with an actual dream and I had everything confused. But I was certain I was attacked. Fairly certain, anyway. And the way the white-blonde said I was "hers" told me it wasn't the last time I'd see her. If she was even real. There seemed to be missing pieces in my memory. Some details, like the wolf's terrifying eyes, were so clear, while others, like my protectors' faces, were blank. This made me question the reality of it all, but I couldn't dismiss the fear. It was too deeply embedded into my memory.