Read Caylee's Confessions (Caylee's Confessions Series) Online
Authors: Candice Burnett
My
eyes looked to where my stake was still inserted in the two vampires. They
were beginning to blacken. I needed to get back to that stake if I had a chance.
Unlucky for me, it was behind the werewolf. I could feel my body weaken as the
blood flowed from my back from the werewolf’s first strike. I had to get to
that stake, so I decided to charge the werewolf, with my Swiss army knife.
My
charge seemed to startle him, but he began running at me as well. I waited until
he was inches away, then made my body dive to the right of him, which was
inches from where my stake was—now finally sitting in a pile of ashes. I
missed it though and flipped over, just in time to see the werewolf jump on top
of me. His claws tore at my stomach as his mouth reached for my throat. I
could feel the muscles of my abdomen tear as I screamed out in pain.
My
hand took the small, one-inch Swiss army blade and tried to stab the werewolf,
but he wasn’t budging. I finally hit my target, which was his eye. He squealed
and grabbed his eye, giving me the second I needed to reach up, grab my stake,
and push it into its second gear. It elongated into a sliver blade, and as the
werewolf was still clutching his eye, I stood before him and sliced off his head.
One
glance at my stomach and all I could see was red everywhere. My body began shaking
and my ears were hollowing out as my vision became blurry, and a rustic, bitter
taste tainted my tongue. I needed to get my potion or I was going to pass out
and die. I felt at my belt but nothing was there. It must have been torn
off. My eyes frantically searched the ground, but all that was there was more
blood—my blood, everywhere. I only had seconds left, when my eyes finally
caught the vile, reflecting from the moon’s light.
Thank god
, I thought
as I walked over to it, threw off the cap and dumped it all into my mouth.
There was no way I would make it home, even if the potion was successful in
saving my life. Luckily, my phone was near the vile, and I picked it up and
pushed the number ‘2’ on my speed dial.
“Hello,
Caylee. Caylee?” Claire shouted as I tried to catch my breath to speak. “Where
are you?” she shouted frantically.
“Claire, I think I’m
going to die. You should probably come and get me,” I said as I dropped the
phone and felt my body begin to fall. Everything was in slow motion as I
waited for the impact of my body on the cement. The impact never came. I
cracked open my eyes to see two ruby—almost black—colored eyes staring at me as
it held me in its arms. My vision and my mind finally went black.
***
I
awoke, from what Claire told me, a week later in her apartment above her head
shop.
“You’re
awake,” she said, probably sensing it. “Now, tell me what the fuck happened,” she
scolded, like my grandmother used to when I was in trouble.
“I…well…fuck—give
me a second. How am I alive?” I asked her, trying to wrap my head around the
situation.
“You
called me, I gps-ed your phone, and Lyal and I found you. Thank the gods you
took the whole potion, or you would have been dead for sure. I’m still
surprised it saved you, to be honest. That werewolf tore you to shreds—your
blood painted the cement,” Claire said as her eyes dropped, probably
remembering the scene. “We didn’t even know if you were going to make it,
until yesterday. I’ve done nothing but make potions, create spells, and—shit—pray,
which is something I haven’t done in a while.”
“Witches
pray?” I asked, hoping to make the topic lighter.
“Shut
up, smartass. Just tell me what happened, please.” She laughed, finally
calming down.
“Well,
I followed them from Lyal’s, just like I was supposed to do, and his damn
cousin was taking forever to leave the group, so when we got to the dead zone—”
I said as Claire interrupted.
“The
dead zone?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
I then went on to tell her everything that had happened in the fight with the
vampires and werewolf. She laughed when I told her about the double staking,
said she was going to put it in her record books.
“So,
wait though—from everything you’ve told me about your injuries, you should be
dead. Guess that was the best potion I’ve made to date!” she said.
“Well,
there was one more odd thing though,” I said as I recalled those deep, ruby
eyes. “Right after I dropped my phone, I remembered my body starting to
collapse. I waited to feel the impact of the ground, but it never came. So I
forced my eyes open one last time, to see two ruby-black eyes staring at me…and
now I’m on your couch.”
“But
I thought you said there were only three of them?” Claire asked as I was
thinking the same thing.
“There
was, but right after I called you and felt like I was going to pass out, I don’t
know, I just remember these eyes. I probably just hit my head really hard when
I fell to the cement. My head was fighting off the urge to pass out long
before I called you, and I know I got all the undeads that were there.” I
shivered, thinking about the eerie beauty of the eyes that wouldn’t leave my
head, even as I tried to logically tell myself they hadn’t existed.
“Yeah,
you were probably just dreaming because you hit your head so hard. If there
was anything else there, it would have killed you instantly. You were barely
breathing when I got there. You were mumbling a bit just now when I tried to
wake you,” Claire said.
“Wonderful.
Well, I’m going to go back to sleep now,” I said, closing my eyes, not wanting
to think any more about how close I had been to death. No matter what I tried
to think of though, I couldn’t stop thinking about those eyes that were in my
dream. They were beautiful, but dangerous. A color I had not seen before on
any undead, so that has to prove that I’d imagined it. If they were real, the
thing would have definitely killed me. Or so I thought.
As
I drove to work the morning after I awoke from the werewolf incident, I
remember feeling slightly nervous. I mean, the job really only meant a
paycheck to me, but I’d missed a pretty crucial week. When I left there last
Friday, we were just about to finish up the final ideas and present a proposal to
the large client we were trying to sign. It was basically done when I’d left,
but I was supposed to be the one who presented the proposal to the company,
because I had come up with it. Claire, thankfully, had called in for me,
claiming to be my aunt, and told them I had the swine flu, which was a health
scare at the time. I had my forged doctor’s note with me, to give to my boss
to reassure the excuse, but I still felt guilty. However, if they knew the
real reason I was out, they wouldn’t believe it anyway.
I
parked my car in the parking garage and dragged my heavy, guilty feet in. The
first person I saw was Lori—of course. Freaking Lori Otar—or, as I liked to
call her, the office skank-face. I liked to call her that, because I’d heard—and
witnessed events of—how she would achieve her client-base. She also liked to
constantly have her face up my boss’s ass.
“Nice
to see you, Caylee. You look so healthy,” said Lori. God, she was such a
bitch. “You’re lucky you got over it so fast. My cousin had the swine flu and
it took her a month to get over it, and she had to be hospitalized!” she said.
“Yeah,
my doctor said it was just a minor case and I’m no longer contagious, so I get to
come back to work,” I said with a fake smile, wanting her to go away.
“Well,
aren’t you so lucky?” She sneered and turned away from me, heading to her desk—to
probably Google information about the swine flu. Lucky? Ha, that was a joke.
The only luck today was the fact that she wasn’t a vampire, for I would have
staked her on the spot. I would love it if I was given this opportunity,
because I couldn’t stake her for being annoying—that just couldn’t be justified—so
she
was definitely the lucky one.
I
took a deep breath and successfully brushed off anyone else’s attempts to speak
with me, before I made it to Gene’s office.
“Hey,
boss,” I said with a smile as I walked into his office. He looked up with
bright eyes, recognizing my voice. It caught me off-guard. I’d always liked
going into his office. Like the rest of the building, it was full of bright colors
that were said to ‘stimulate the mind.’ He also had tons of pictures of his
family everywhere. They weren’t awkward family photos either. They had
captured real smiles that told you how much they cared for one another.
“It’s
my main lady, Caylee. How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Much
better, thanks. I brought this in if you need it for your records.” I casually
took two steps towards his desk and set down my phony doctor’s note.
“Oh,
thanks,” he said, putting it to the side. “I’m just happy you’re feeling better,
because I have some exciting news!” He was way too happy for a boss whose
employee had just missed a huge week. I wondered what was up.
“You
see, you’ve missed quite an eventful week. The Maplewood Mall signed with us
and Lori got two new potentials. This week has just been great for everyone. Even
Evan managed to get two sponsorships from our smaller clients. It’s like
nothing could go wrong this week!” I’m glad they had such a good week, because
I’d almost died, so I guess good luck had to go somewhere. He still hadn’t
said anything about the huge Caloman Corp project we had going last week.
Maybe he was giving me the good news first.
“That’s
good,” I said, still waiting for the rest of the news.
“Well,
I hope this doesn’t upset you, since you worked so hard on the Caloman project
before you got sick, but…well…you see, it was basically done, and I went ahead
on a whim and sent the intern over to Caloman Corp to propose the idea. It was
such a huge account, as you know. We looked over everything you had done and
it looked great. So I sent it over with the intern, because she had worked the
closest with you on the project, and…well, Caylee, I know you wanted to present
the information, but last week was the deadline that they required for it.
Well, enough with my ramblings.” He took a deep breath. “They loved it,
Caylee. They signed with us!” He was the happiest I’d ever seen him, which
was probably why he didn’t even look at my doctor’s note. What did he care if
it was legit? He would make at least a million dollars on this proposal since
they’d signed. “They want to start it next week, and they want you there,
working on it, as soon as possible. The CEO of the corporation actually wants
to meet with you about it tonight—if you’re available, that is,” he said with a
look that screamed: ‘You better be open tonight, because this company needs the
money.’
“Of
course. But I’m slightly confused as to why they want to meet with me. Don’t
you usually handle it from here? I mean, I’m not refusing; it just seems to be
your area of specialty. We write the proposals and sponsorship plans, and you
execute them,” I said, hoping he would go, as I really needed to get back to
focusing more on hunting. I’d been out of the hunt for a week and needed to
get back, so those dumb
vitans
would leave my city.
“Usually, I would love
to, but they specifically asked for the person who created the idea,” he said. I
found it odd, but whatever—I would do it. I did feel that I owed them, since I’d
missed the week. I’d just hunt double-time tomorrow.
*****
I
arrived at Almelo’s just as the sun was setting. It was 7:45 and the meeting
was at 8:00, so I opened the heavy, gold-plated door. This place was fancier
than I had expected. The host, and most people around me, were in formal dress-wear.
I was in my business suit that had cost me a pretty penny, but I still felt
underdressed. My boss had told me it was a nice place, but this was like one
of those places where people proposed in cheesy movies, where the boyfriend would
drop the ring in the champagne and the girlfriend would cry. I walked up to
the hostess stand.
“Hello,
I’m here for a business meeting with a client named Braxton Caloman,” I told
the host.
“Oh
certainly,” he said quite femininely as he looked me up and down, but only
because he was clearly disgusted in what I was wearing, not because he was
interested. “Follow me. Mr. Caloman is waiting your attendance at booth sixty-six.
If you’ll just wait a moment, I’ll take you to your seat.” He grabbed a menu
and motioned for me to follow him. The place was beautiful, and now that I had
gotten a full view of the restaurant, I definitely felt out of place. It had
low, dim lighting with a beautiful, white lily candlelit centerpiece at each
table. The booths had either a light-yellow or cream colored tablecloth. I
almost ran into the host as I was admiring the place, but looked up just in
time to see him stop a foot in front of me. He moved to let me pass him to
take my seat. I stood, shocked for a minute as I looked down at Mr. Caloman.
My
eyes started to rapidly blink as if they didn’t really believe this was my
client. I watched as the man sitting in the booth got up, like a southern
gentleman, when he saw I had arrived. My eyes wandered up as he rose. He had
to be at least six-foot-seven. It was rare that I had to really look up to see
a man’s face, but his was something I wouldn’t mind getting a neck-ache over.
He had an angelic face with a slight edge that made me feel as if he were
powerful. He had prominent cheekbones and full lips with gleaming white,
perfectly straight teeth. His black hair was short—if I had to guess, an inch-and-a-half
long—and in that messy but adorable style that most men seemed to be wearing
now.
Below
his hair were a pair of light, grey-colored eyes that were beautiful but seemed
to be the only non-exceptional thing about him. Don’t get me wrong, they were
eyes I was definitely lost in, but they seemed to be out of place. A lot of
people were doing this now with colored contacts. I wondered what color his eyes
really were. Usually a person’s complexion gave this away. His was a pale,
olive color, like an Italian who didn’t tan. It was a breathtaking—but different—color
I’d only seen on… My eyes raced to the bracelet that never left my wrist. I
let out a sigh of relief that it was just plain, old black.
“Hello,
Ms. Raupp. I’m so happy to meet you,” he said with a deep, soothing, strong
tone.
“Same
to you, Mr. Caloman,” I said, and we took our seats on opposite sides of the
booth. I always hated the beginning of a meeting as they were always so
awkward, and being at a place that was clearly for couples, made it more
awkward.
“Have
you been here before?” he asked, probably sensing my awkwardness.
“No,
but I’ve heard good things,” I replied with a fake smile. I hated small-talk.
“Yeah,
a bit too fancy, if you ask me, but the board insists on it. I guess it helps
portray the image.” He lifted his hands and made quotation marks with his
fingers when he said ‘image.’ The host then arrived with some water.
“Will
you be having cocktails this evening?” the host asked. I really hoped so. I
knew I could only get one if he did, because that’s how these meetings went.
“Yes,
double Ciroc in a short glass with a splash of cran, please,” Mr. Caloman
replied.
“And
for the lady?” the Host asked.
“I’ll
take a berry vodka and water, short, with a twist of lemon, please.” And the
host walked away.
“Vodka
and water?” Mr. Caloman asked.
“It’s
surprisingly delicious,” I replied. “Tastes like drinking flavored water, but
you get the extra kick without all the calories.”
“That
sounds like a slogan,” Mr. Caloman replied with a laugh.
“It
is what I do.” I laughed along. The host brought back our drinks quickly.
“Do
you still need a minute to decide?” the host asked.
“Just
drinks for me,” Mr. Caloman said. “Are you hungry, Ms. Raupp?”
“No,”
I replied, “just drinks for me as well.”
“As
you wish,” the host said, and walked away.
“I
wanted to tell you that I was glad to hear that you got over your illness.
Your boss had told us you were sick,” he said.
“Yes,
and thanks,” I said, unsure of what else to say.
“Your
idea was wonderful. They didn’t need to send your intern, even though she was
delightful, because I would have said ‘yes’ just to the written proposal.” He
smiled.
“Well,
thank you. I’m glad your company even considered taking a look at my firm’s
proposal. I have to admit, I was shocked at first that your company was taking
an interest in our small firm,” I told him honestly. This was the first major
company account that we had snagged.
“Yes,
well, I’m a true believer that if you don’t look at all your options, big or
small, then you’ll truly miss a great opportunity. Or, in this case, an idea.
I was rooting for your company from the start because, I have to say, I like when
the underdog overcomes, in most situations,” he said as his smile widened.
“Well,
thanks again, and I felt my cheeks blush. They always did at compliments—was a
fault of being a redhead, I guess.
“You’re
welcome, and really, it’s my pleasure. But I think I’ve wasted enough breath
on work,” he said, and I began to wonder:
Wasn’t this what I was here for?
It almost leaked out of my mouth. “I’m bored of it already. See, I’m a
believer of really knowing your business associates, so let’s just relax.” And
his smile was sending me the message that he wanted to do anything
but
relax. Maybe my boss should have sent Lori here. She would have loved to ‘get
to know him.’
Surely, he hadn’t meant it that way though
, I reasoned.
I’d had clients do this before, where they just genuinely wanted to know who
they were working with, because, with all the scams going around these days,
they wanted to create a business relationship that had trust, and actually
mattered.
“How
long have you been with the company?” he asked.
“It’s
been almost a year,” I replied.
“A
year in and you’re already on proposals for large corporations?” His eyebrows
rose with the question.
“Well,
the company itself is only about five years old. It started with only five
agents and now there are twenty-three, so everyone is relatively new at the
firm,” I told him.
“They
must have an eye for catching good talent, since it has grown so successfully
in just five years.”
“Yes,
I would agree with that. Mr. Shelton’s very talented himself, and I find that,
since our company is relatively new, we have brought fresh and new ideas,” I
said confidently. This was one of the major obstacles that the firm had when
getting companies to sign with us: they liked our ideas, but didn’t like that
our company was so new.
“That
makes sense,” he agreed. “So, Ms.…well, actually, do you mind if I call you
Caylee? It’s so much easier than saying Ms. Raupp every time.” And he again
threw me that smile that wouldn’t have allowed me to say ‘no’ if I had wanted
to.