Heroes 'Til Curfew (Talent Chronicles #2) (46 page)

Conscience pricked.
I should get out of
here. What kind of asshole sticks around and watches a girl
cry?
But something about her pulled at me, so I stayed. It was
as if her tears somehow released my own grief. I felt oddly soothed
by it. Part of me wanted to go to her and offer…what? Comfort? I
wasn’t any good at that. And she wouldn’t thank me for intruding.
No doubt she came out here for privacy.

Feeling like a voyeur, I started to back
away.

Spots of brighter sunlight flickered on her
face, and I paused, looking for the source of the reflection. My
eyes fell to her hands. The sun glinted off the blade of a knife
where it lay poised against her wrist. She took a deep, shaky
breath.

My heart jolted, a thunder of rage and
horror.
No!
I scrambled up, mustering every ounce of speed I
possessed to get to that knife. But my fastest wasn’t fast enough,
and the knife pressed into the white flesh.

~*~

Kait Nolan is stuck in an office all day,
sometimes juggling all three of her jobs at once with the skill of
a trained bear—sometimes with a similar temperament. After hours,
she uses her powers for good, creating escapist fiction. The work
of this Mississippi native is packed with action, romance, and the
kinds of imaginative paranormal creatures you’d want to sweep you
off your feet…or eat your boss. When she’s not working or writing,
she’s in her kitchen, heading up a revolution to Retake Homemade
from her cooking blog, Pots and Plots.

You can catch up with her at her at her
website,
http://kaitnolan.com
.

Looking for more action-packed adventure?
Check out Kait’s Mirus series (
Forsaken By Shadow, Devil’s Eye,
Blindsight
), available wherever ebooks are sold. And don’t
forget to drop by her website and sign up for the newsletter to be
notified of upcoming and new releases!

An excerpt from

A novel of the Zellie Wells Trilogy

By Stacey Wallace Benefiel

On Friday afternoon I stood out in front of
the school waiting for Mom to pick me up and take me to my dentist
appointment like I was an 8-year-old. I couldn’t wait to take
Driver’s Ed in the summer, driving was going to be, well,
freedom.

It was a windy spring day and my hair was
blowing all over the place, creating a whirlwind around my head.
Annoyed, I grabbed my unruly mass of hair in both hands and slicked
it back, rolling a ponytail holder from my wrist onto the loose,
messy twist I’d made at the base of my skull.

“You missed a chunk.” Avery reached over and
tucked the hair behind my ear.

I froze, paralyzed. Avery had just touched
me. I felt myself go tomato red and shiver at the same time. Was I
awake? I traced the path of his fingers across my cheekbone,
re-tucking the hair behind my ear, stalling. “Oh,” I said
brilliantly.

He stood next to me, straddling his bike;
like it was something we did every day. Like he had spoken to me
once in the past five years. Like he acknowledged my presence. His
beautiful long fingers had a firm grip on the handle bars.

“So that practice test in English totally
sucked, don’t you think?” he said.

A hundred images flashed through my mind.
His full lips, his hair curling over his ears, the sliver of skin
that had given me goose bumps. I had to pull myself together! I had
to speak. I had to not go catatonic. “Yeah,” I managed to say. “It
completely sucked. Way sucked. Can’t imagine how much the real test
is going to totally...suck.” I completely, way, and totally needed
to cease talking for the rest of my miserable existence.

“Totally,” he agreed, giving me a
crinkly-eyed smile.

We loitered in awkward silence for what
seemed like forever. I finally turned towards him to espouse some
more of my wisdom, when a strong gust of wind blew past us,
unleashing my crazy hair from my ponytail, and blowing it right
into his face. I rushed to smooth it back again, but Avery grasped
my wrist.

“It’s cool. It’s not bothering me.” He
rubbed his thumb up along the inside my palm. “Your hair is really
soft. It’s nice.”

“Oh!” I said brilliantly again. “Uh, thanks.
Yours is too.” Shut up. Shut up now. Pray like you’ve never prayed
before that an angel seamstress will come down from heaven and sew
your mouth shut!

He let go of my wrist, but the warmth from
his hand lingered. I resisted putting my arm to my nose, curious if
I could smell him on my skin.

He ran his hands through his hair. “So, your
party is next week. That’s cool.”

“Yeah,” I said, attempting to be nonchalant.
As if. “Claire and I are going to Bend with my dad to get
decorations and stuff tomorrow.”

“Sweet, Bend’s cool.”

“Yeah!” I. Am. So. Super. Excited! Holy
Christ on a cracker why couldn’t I say one intelligent thing?

“Well, uh, all righty.” He looked at the
watch he had hooked to his backpack. “Um, I gotta get over to my
dad’s office. Have fun in Bend. I’ll see you in church...and then
y’know in school on Monday.”

“Yeah! I’ll see you on Sunday and Monday!”
The embarrassment was becoming debilitating.

I watched as he rode away, not sure of what
just happened or of anything that I had said. Was I already at the
dentist, because I sure as hell felt like I was on laughing gas?
This would’ve been another opportune moment to have a cell phone. I
had to call Claire as soon as I got home. There was so much to
analyze. There was
something
to analyze!

Avery rode his bike down Cascade Ave. How
many times had he just said “cool?” Ugh. Too many. Well, at least
she’d talked to him. Sort of. He was having a hard time actually
remembering what they’d talked about in between all the times he’d
said cool.
I am such a massive dork.

This was all Jason’s fault. Avery had been
perfectly fine admiring Zellie from afar, checking her out on the
sly during youth group. Every day he looked forward to 6th period
Humanities, the one class where they had a reverse alphabetical
seating chart and he sat behind her, allowing him to fantasize
about gently sweeping her hair to the side and kissing her
neck.

Staring and wanting and longing were things
he was comfortable with, but Jason said he was acting like a little
girl. When he had threatened to tell Zellie that Avery was in love
with her if he didn’t at least say hi to her before her birthday
party, Avery could’ve killed him. But, he had to admit, it had gone
better than he thought it would.

Oh God, he couldn’t believe he’d touched
her. Twice. Where did that impulse come from? Fear of exposure had
made him brave. He wished he could have held onto to her wrist
forever. She hadn’t pulled away from him either, so that was saying
something. Ugh. What was that saying? That she was being polite?
That she’d wanted him to touch her? He hadn’t really given her a
choice. It seemed like it was okay with her. It was okay.
Everything was cool. Ugh!

Skidding to a stop on the sidewalk in front
of his dad’s insurance office, he hopped off his bike and propped
it up against the building. Every day after school when he didn’t
have practice or a game he had to help his dad at work. He did the
crappy jobs, like emptying the trash and cleaning out the coffee
pot, while his friends got to hang out at each other’s houses and
play video games.

The cow bell clanked as Avery walked through
the glass door that read “Adams Insurance” in curly old fashioned
script.

His dad looked up from his desk, near the
back wall of the small storefront. “Did you lock up your bike or
leave it out there so that anyone walking by could take it for a
spin?”

Avery flung his backpack down on the floor
next to the old black leather sofa that used to be in their living
room at home. It now occupied the “waiting area” in his dad’s
office, even though it was only about five feet from his desk. “No
one’s gonna take it, Dad.” Avery flopped onto the sofa, slouching
down low so that his dad had to look over the stack of files on his
desk to see him.

“This may be a small town, but that doesn’t
mean that bad things don’t happen. If that were the case, I’d be
out of a job. Go lock it up.” He finished filling out a stack of
forms he had been working on and tossed them into his “out”
box.

Avery rose from the couch with incredible
slowness, as if moving at a more reasonable pace would kill
him.

“All right Mr. Wiseass, instead of locking
up your bike why don’t you go pick up our suits from the dry
cleaners.” His dad shifted forward in his chair and pulled his
wallet out of the back pocket of his khakis.

Avery froze in mid-sloth. “Why are our suits
at the dry cleaners? Did someone die?”

“No, someone did not die. I thought we
should look nice for Zellie Wells’ birthday party next weekend.
Plus, it’s been awhile since we’ve had our suits cleaned.” He
flipped a twenty toward his son. It floated in the space between
them for a split second and then fell at Avery’s feet.

He bent down and picked it up, cramming it
into his jeans pocket. “Why do I have to wear a suit, anyways? I’m
going to look like a total dork. Jason’s dad isn’t going to make
him--”

“Jason’s dad doesn’t make him do anything
and that’s why Jason is a spoiled brat. You are wearing a suit
because you’re going to be in church and because I’m wearing a
suit. End of discussion. You better get over there. They close
early on Fridays.”

Avery grabbed his backpack and slung it over
his left shoulder. “How am I supposed to carry two suits on my
bike?”

“You’ll think of something.” He pulled a
stack of papers from his “in” box and began filling them out.

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from
Glimpse,
the first book in the Zellie Wells trilogy by
Stacey Wallace Benefiel. For more information on Stacey and her
other books, visit
http://staceywallacebenefiel.com
.