B007Q4JDEM EBOK (5 page)

“Warlock would b
e the correct term,” he replied with mild humor, “but, no. I'm not a warlock - at
least, not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” I eyed him suspiciously.

“I have s
ome...special abilities. But I am
definitely not a warlock.”

“
I think you have a bad case of sleep deprivation or something, Salem. This is insane.

He smir
ked. “I don't sleep. It isn't
necessary for me.”

“
What
?” I laughed,
knowing I must still be asleep and suffering from bizarre dreams brought on from the stress of yesterday’s events.

“I'll explain that another time.”

“I should go hom
e...” I blurted out suddenly
. “
This is all wrong. This is all crazy…you're crazy!
”

The last words clearly stung. “I am not crazy. Neither are you. And you are in no condition to be driving right now. You can stay here.”

“Here?!” I shouted, bewildered. “Would you stay in
some stranger’s
house after they told you your parents weren't who you thought they were for the past eighteen years, and then told you they had special 'abilities'?!”

Salem frowned and h
is eyes reflected the sadness. “Honestly, I probably wouldn't – if I didn't know all of this was true.”

“What are these special ‘abilities’ you claim to have? And how do you do them
?” My mind was racing with questions, worries.
Was this really happening?

“That
cake,
” He smiled sheepishly, “I can make things materialize like that.”

“
What?
How?”

“It's a long story, Alexis,
” He leaned back on the couch. “You probably couldn't handle it all right now. I'll tell you more tomorrow.”

“I can handle it,
” I insisted, although I knew that was a lie. In fact, I was almost certain I was somewhere beside the highway, unconscious in my flipped over vehicle and my mind was wandering as I slowly slipped away, because this was not possible.
Wake up, Alexis, wake up
!
, I thought to myself as my mind raced almost as quickly as my heart.

“I won't tell you
any more until you have rested,” he said firmly, “w
ould you be more comfortable sleeping on the sofa or in the guest room?”

“I'd
rather sleep outside in my car,
” I
said sharply
.

“I could arrange for that to happen, but really, I think it'd be wiser to stay indoors.”

“Fine. I'll sleep here,
” I didn't object to him helping me stretch out across the sofa, nor did I notice him leave the room to fetch a blanket and pillow. I had to admit that this was comfortable, warm and much better than struggling to sleep in the Alero.

“Goodnight, Alexis,
” Salem whispered as my eyes fell shut. Sleep overcame me quickly as I silently hoped I would wake up in my familiar bed to find this had all truly been a dream.

There was that familiar tugging again. My dreams were full of wonder, a strange boy named Salem, mom abandoning me...this time I was more eager to wake up. I was startled when
I found myself on a white sofa
identical to the one in my dream
– or what I had hoped was a dream
. I screamed, pulled myself away from the comfortable sectional couch and ran toward the tall white doors.

As the doors slammed shut behind me, I fell to my knees on the alabaster stairs. My Alero was gone. I fought the urge to scream again,
and
felt a
sudden
whip of cold air from behind me.

“Good morning,
” t
he silky, sweet voice of the boy from my dream filled my ears.

I rose from the ground and thrust myself at him, my palm prepared to smack him across the cheek, but he was too quick. He gripped my wrist tightly and pulled my arm down
ward. “There's no need for that,” h
is voice was
tense. “Your car isn't gone. It i
s in the garage.”

My eyes fell upon the garage to the left of the house and I sighed with relief. He released my hand. “While we're out here, why don't we drive over to Paul's business? There are many things he needs to explain to you, and the sooner you know, the sooner you will unders
tand everything,” h
e
suggested
,
his voice more calm and gentle now.

“I don't want to go there,
” I replied stubbornly. If all of this was true, I didn't think I was ready to face reality. Paul
couldn't
be my father.

“Y
ou need to eventually, you know,
” Salem said calmly
, “a
nd somewhere, deep down, you want to.”

“What use would it be? It won't change anything.”

“It will c
hange a lot of things, actually,” h
e stated. “You'll feel better if you go.”

“I
doubt it.
”

The garage door opened, revealing my silver car. Salem gripped my hand gently and tugged me over to the vehicle, then dangled the keys before me. I sighed, taking the keys and climbing into the car.
It appeared I had little
choice, he was persistent
.
I sat behind the steering wheel,
pondering
whether I could pull out of the garage and go home before he made it into the passenger seat. I put the key in the ignition and started the car, about to put it in reverse when I heard the passenger side door slam.

“You're too slow,” h
e smirked.

“
Maybe
you're too fast,
” I said glumly.

After enduring the long winding trip away from Salem's house, we had driven across town and pulled up to Paul's Auto shop. I glanced over at Salem, who had an apprehensive look on his face.

“What's the matter
with you
?” I asked.

His expression changed immediately, “Nothing. Go on
ahead, I wi
ll wait out here.”

“I'm perfe
ctly fine with you coming along,
” Part of me sincerely wished he would join me; I didn't want to face Paul alone.

“No,” he looked at me sternly, “i
t would be best if I
was not present
.”

“I don't see why Paul
wouldn't want you coming inside if you’re somehow a part of this big mess.
”

“I'm sta
ying out here, and that's final,” h
e replied, looking away from me.

“Fine!
” I said bitterly, slamming the door behind me as I left the boy in the car. His eyes were watchful as I entered through the glass door. The smell of oil was overwhelming to the point that I had to cover my nose to avoid gagging.

Paul wasn't anywhere to be seen at first, but I could distinctly hear his voice paired with someone else's. He must have been with a customer. I noticed a small surveillance camera perched high up on the ceiling and I felt like it was following my every step. It had been years since I came here, and everything looked exactly the same.

The building was fairly small, but big enough to fit a back room full of various-sized car, bicycle and motorcycle tires. There were at least seven aisles of vehicle-related objects that I simply had no idea what were. For me, this was probably the most boring store in existence. I decided to browse the store while I waited, quietly stepping down each short aisle. As I went down the third aisle of the store, I found a row of things I recognized and understood: air fresheners. I picked up a rose-shaped one and sniffed it, displeased by the fact that I could barely smell the scent through the plastic sleeve.

“Can I help you?” a woman's voice asked. I jumped and looked in her direction.

She was about a foot shorter than me – which was unfortunate for her, because I was barely over five feet myself – and a little chunky around the midsection. Her face was round and full, and atop her head was a spiked mess of pink hair. She wore a loose, sleeveless black top that revealed her arms, both of which were covered in vibrant, colorful tattoos. She had to be at least twenty-five or so.

“I-I'm looking for Paul,” I stuttered.

“He's with someone at the moment, is there anything I can
help you with
?” Her voice was high-pitched and light, bizarre coming from someone of her appearance.

“No. I'm sort of..
.family,
” I wanted to say I was his niece, but that wasn't the correct answer
anymore
.

“Oh!” s
he grinned and held her hand out, “I'm Kate.”

“I'm Alexis,
” I muttered, wishing I could retreat back to my car and avoid all of
this. “Do you know how long until he’s done
?”

“No idea, but k
nowing him it could be a while,” she laughed, “h
e gets easily caught up in his work.”

“What do you do here?” I asked, trying to pass the time.

“I work behind the counter,” s
he replied
, pointing to the checkout counter at the front of the store
. “I've been here for almost four years now, and don't tell Paul, but I still know very little about the
junk
people bring in here.”

“Yeah, I can't imagine what that might be like.”

Before the pink-haired woman had a chance to respond, Paul came walking out from the back of the store. He looked just as I remembered him, if not slightly slimmer. He was a bulky man, with broad shoulders and muscles fit for a wrestler. His appearance had always intimidated me, but despite the way he looked, he was a gentle man. Atop his head was a thick mane of bronze hair that I was grateful I hadn't inherited.

“Alexis!” h
e said
, walking in our direction
with a wide grin
on his face
before
suddenly
engulfing me in his big arms.

“Hey, Paul,
” I squeaked under the pressure of his grip.

He released me and the grin remained on his face. “Happy birthday!”

I frowned. “I suppose you would know it was that day, huh?”

“Can't keep it from everyone,” h
e laughed. “What brings you
around these parts, havin’ some car troubles
?
I told your mom that old Al-
”

“Mom – no,
Janet
– gave me a letter last night,
” I
interrupted, lying slightly
, not mentioning that Salem had filled me in on the rest of the story.

“About what?” h
e didn't seem
to have a clue why I was here.
I glanced through the windows at Salem. He hadn't moved an inch.

“About her and Desmond not being...” The words caught in my throat, “not being my real parents.”

“Oh...”
h
e mu
ttered, looking at me in shock, “d
o you want to go to the back room?”

I could feel Kate's brown eyes gazing curiously at us. I nodded my head slowly and followed Paul into the back. We were surrounded by boxes of car parts that weren't out on the shelves yet, and in the far corner was a light brown desk cluttered with used coffee mugs, scattered papers and a checkbook. He took a seat behind the messy desk and I sat in the seat on the opposite side.

“What exactly did she tell you?”
h
e asked, pushing some of the debris away so he could lean forward with his elbows against the wood top.

“She told
me that you are my real father,” I mumbled, “i
s that true?”

He appeared just as uncomfortable back here as I was.
“Yes, Alexis. I am your father,” h
is voice was barely audible.

“Why...why has this been kept from me so long?”

“It was for your own good,” he sighed,
“I was just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

“From me...from my lifestyle,” h
e appeared to be having trouble discussing it.

I frowned. “I don't understand, because you’re a mechanic or what?
Or
because you’re a single father and you didn’t think you could handle raising me alone
?
”

“
That’s not it at all…
I'm
just
not the fatherly type.”