Secret Worlds (43 page)

Come on, Ivory…pick up. Come on, come on.

After two rings, the call shot over to voice mail. Great. She wasn’t taking my calls. I hung up, my hands still shaking. I considered calling out of work, but I had nowhere else to go—not with these problems, not if Ivory was avoiding me. At the very least, I would surround myself with people until I could get in touch with someone who might help.

***

MAIN STREET was one of the few streets in my town with parking slots in front of the shops. I usually sat in my Jeep for a few minutes before going into work, staring at the bold lettering of Jack’s light-up sign. At night, the sign read, ‘Jak’s Dine’, thanks to the dead bulbs Jack never replaced. Today I would tell Jack I couldn’t work night shift for a while. He wouldn’t mind. He almost never put me on the night shift anyway.

When I arrived, Charles was parked nearby, leaning against a blue Toyota Prius. Earth-friendly, at least. I’d give him that. His eyes seemed more alert today, his dark tousled hair slightly less erratic. The sun and shadows on his face sharpened the lines of his jaw and nose, and his heather-grey, short-sleeve shirt revealed the contours of the muscles in his arms.

Flutters started in my stomach, and a strange sensation rushed into my lungs. I shouldn’t be happy to see him. I certainly wasn’t surprised. Just nervous, in that breathless, pulse-drumming kind of way. The kind of way that probably indicated something other than a dash of hope he might help me deal with Marcus.

I raised my chin and straightened my shoulders, as if that alone would make me seem confident. I needed to push this attraction away. Far, far away. The last thing I needed was another person to hide my secrets from, especially someone who had abandoned me when I was in danger. I needed to focus solely on getting some helpful information.

I hopped out of my Jeep and locked the doors. Turning toward the restaurant, I found Charles standing only a breath away, his scent of vanilla, musk, and sandalwood immediately hitting me at my core. My heart thrummed. I stepped back, hoping to put more distance between us, but my back was met swiftly with my car door. He exhaled, warm air caressing my cheek and sending shivers over my body.

“Could you…give me a minute?”
Or at least some space
. I stepped around him before turning back to face him again—this time with my back to the diner, so I couldn’t get trapped. “Aren’t you cold?”

“No.”

Huh. “So…you came to my work….”

“You said I’d find you here, remember?”

“Yep. I’m here. This is where I work, so I come here sometimes. For work.”
Shut
up,
Sophia
.

He tossed a half-sneer toward my Jeep. “That thing yours?”

“Is that a problem?”

“I’m sure the ozone is none-too-thrilled.” He scrutinized me, and his lips softened into a secretive smile. “You’re all dressed up. Special occasion?”

“None that I know of.” I would never achieve a normal heart rate in his company. Surely he wasn’t implying I’d gotten dressed up for his benefit, even if it were true.

He lifted his finger to my lips, and heat rushed to my cheeks.

What the hell was he doing?

His eyes searched mine, his gaze so unrelenting I had to remind myself to breathe. The heat spread to my ears, my insides trembled, and the fresh pull of oxygen did nothing to cure the lightheaded feeling. I hoped none of this was visible, as I could think of only one thing worse than being attracted to Charles, and that was him knowing it.

As he grazed my lip with his finger, a minty scent filled the air between us, and his thoughtful expression turned into a chuckle.

“Toothpaste,” he said.

Mortifying.

At least now I wouldn’t walk around all day with toothpaste crusted to my face. Though that might have been better than
him
mentioning it. Not that I cared what he thought, because I was definitely telling myself I didn’t.

I started to walk away, but his voice stopped me.

“I didn’t wish to come here.”

I spun toward him, hands clenched. “Of course not.”

“I mean no offense,” he said, in the same way everyone did before saying something offensive. “I’m certain you’re a very nice girl, but I’ve come only to give the explanation I promised. I am a man of my word.”

A very nice girl
. “What makes you think—”

“Don’t bother,” he said, giving me a cutting look. “I can offer you nothing more than this. If you’re not interested, that is fine. Perhaps even better for us both.”

“I’m interested,” I said. “But now’s not a good time.”

He looked to the sky and squinted, the sun highlighting his bright eyes and dark lashes, then his gaze dropped to mine. “You’ve experienced something most people never will.”

“Lucky me.”

He grinned. “Did you just roll your eyes?”

“Did I?” Heat gathered in my cheeks.

A light breeze lifted the gentle curls that nearly tumbled into his eyes. Damn him for looking good.

“You appear to have recovered well from last night’s events,” he said.

As if I needed the reminder. “Look, I have a lot on my mind. Marcus was in my house last night and—”

Charles stepped forward suddenly, and I leaned away from his advance.

“Marcus was in your house?” he asked. All his carelessness fell away in that moment, and, in its place, I simply saw a man. A very
concerned
man. “Did he—did anything happen?”

“He left a note. Said he hopes we meet again, or something.”

Charles’ shoulders visibly relaxed. “He wants you on your terms. Perhaps he had nothing to do with Cody coming after you. Do you have to work today?”

“Yes.” I didn’t really, but I desperately needed to be busy. Needed something to ground me in my
own
world, however crappy my world might have been. Plus there was that whole bill collectors wanting to get paid thing.

“Well, he won’t come here. We’ll figure something out before nightfall.”

“So now you want to help me? I thought you just wanted to give me some answers and be done with me.”

Charles’ jaw tensed. “Is that what you’d prefer?”

“No, but—”

“I don’t wish to be ‘done with you’.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Back to Marcus,” I said, my words jolting the tender look from his eyes. “Would he send someone else? Since apparently humans like to help these people out?”

“If he’d wanted, he would have taken you last night.”

“Comforting.”

Charles scowled. “Regardless, most humans don’t help in
that
way,” he said, slipping back into his know-it-all tone. “He wouldn’t hire a human to do something he could take care of himself.”

“I’m not something to be ‘taken care of’,” I said sharply.

With a low chuckle, he stepped closer. “That’s debatable,” he said. “Try to stay in one piece until I return. I’ll meet you for coffee after your shift.”

Attempting not to sound enthused, I offered a non-committal, “Okay.”

“What time?” he asked.

“Shift’s over at four.”

“Perfect.” He smiled. “It’s a date.”

“It’s not a date,” I said. “It’s coffee.”

I turned and headed into the diner. Coffee. And, more importantly,
answers
.

Not a date.

***

THE BREAKFAST CROWD THINNED. This would be the only lull in my day—my one chance to catch a breather and spend some time by myself. My eleven AM ‘lunch’ break.

As I started for the backroom computer to see if anything came up on the Internet for that Basker Street address, a voice called across the diner.

“Hey! Sophia!” I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Lauren. Exactly what I needed right now: a human exclamation point.

I turned around. She was sitting at table six, one of her Japanese street wear magazines open in front of her. She’d started reading those when she began studying Japanese, hoping one day she would know enough to fly across the Pacific and confront the relatives that had shunned her as a child.

I hadn’t seen her in forever. So long, in fact, that her black hair had grown from a short pixie cut to fall in layers of satin around her shoulders. Hot pink headphones draped over her neck, flattening her silky strands. California hadn’t changed her olive complexion, and she apparently still had an affinity for mascara and lip-gloss.

At any other time, seeing her would have lightened my mood, but right now, her timing sucked. Just last night, I’d officially been shoved from one world into the next. A world she was not a part of.

I headed over to the booth, and she wrapped me in a tight hug, holding a Styrofoam cup behind my back. She pushed back to hold me at arm’s length. “I cannot
believe
you didn’t call me when I got to town!”

“Are you kidding? I’ve called four times and left a message last week.” I sat, and Lauren reseated herself across from me.

“You could’ve stopped by,” she said. “You made time for Ivory, which I expect you to tell me all about.” Her bottom lip, full and creased down the middle, stuck out in a fake pout. “Who was that cute guy you were talking to this morning?”

Inwardly, I groaned, but for Lauren’s sake, I let out some uneasy laughter. “You saw him?”

“On my way to pay the water bill.” She sipped her soda directly from the cup, the tip of the straw already chewed shut. “So, is he as gorgeous up close as he is from across the street?”

“I didn’t see him from across the street, so it’s impossible to compare.”

“You know, it wouldn’t be the end of the world to say you saw a cute guy.”

I tried to look super busy with the napkin holder. “I sort of know him.”

“What? How?” She set down her drink and gave me her best ‘serious’ look. “What kind of
sort of knowing
are we talking about here?”

“Not
that
kind.” I might have rolled my eyes, since I apparently did that sometimes. “We met at the club, through Ivory.”

“I knew I should have tagged along! Ivory said you were going, but I don’t like to stick my chin where it isn’t welcome.”

I managed a smile. “Stick your nose.”

“That’s what they say. So, is that what this is all about?” she asked, reaching out and touching my curls. “I almost didn’t recognize you with your hair down.” Her chocolate brown eyes shifted from one side of my face to the other, and she held up her hand before I could reply. “It is, isn’t it? It’s this mystery guy you’re dying to tell me about. Oh my God! That’s why you’ve been MIA!”

“Charles is not why I’ve been ‘MIA’.”

“Charles?” Lauren asked. “Now there’s a sexy name! Well, out with it. You have to give me the spoon!”

The scoop
. I slipped around to the other side of the booth. “Let me get my lunch first.”

I hated keeping secrets from Lauren, but I didn’t have much choice.

Jack swooped by the table with Lauren’s previously-ordered salad. He stood at the end of the table, pencil tucked behind one ear. I never understood why he carried a pencil around, since he never wrote down anyone’s orders. “You ordering, Sophia?”

“I’ll get it,” I said. The diner was short-staffed enough, with Jack having to tend the tables while I took my lunch.

“Do I need to redefine ‘break’ for you?” Jack winked.

Not being hungry, I opted for a strawberry milkshake and thanked him before he hurried back to the kitchen.

Lauren leaned closer. “Sooo? Are you going to spill the rice about your big, mysterious night out?”

“I hate to disappoint you, but there isn’t much to tell
.” Other than that whole ‘almost killed by a Cruor’ thing.

“Well, which club did you go to?” Lauren kept her eyes on me as Jack breezed by the table, dropping off my milkshake.

I smiled my thanks to him and returned my attention to Lauren. “Which club?” I repeated. I cleared my throat. “Oh, some club in Denver. Hush, or something.”

“Hush?” she asked, shaking pepper onto her salad. “I can’t believe
you
went to Hush.”

“Well, believe it, because I did.”

Actually, I’d never been to Hush. I felt terrible about all this lying I’d been doing lately. I couldn’t even blame my parents, because Mother had never lied on purpose.

Delusions don’t count.

Growing up, Mother always encouraged me to tell the truth.
The truth will set you free
, she said, and she’d reinforced the idea by letting me off the hook for anything I did wrong, so long as I was honest about it.

But I still grew up to be a liar, even if I hated doing it. Whenever possible, I opted for evasion instead.

“You okay?” Lauren asked, concern-lines creasing her brow. “You look a little green.”

I was starting to
feel
a little green. “I’m fine.”

“So, this guy—er, Charles? You met him there?” As she spoke, she waved her fork around dangerously. “He doesn’t look like the type that frequents Hush.”

“Yep, he was there, I was there…we were both there.”

“And?” Lauren crunched on a piece of iceberg lettuce and smiled. “Give me the details.”

“We chatted for a bit, then I went back to Ivory’s house.”

“That’s no fun.” She impaled a cherry tomato. The salad was under attack. Or maybe I felt under attack from Lauren’s barrage of questions. “When are you going to see him again?”

“Honestly, Lauren—it’s nothing. We’re just meeting for coffee. We aren’t even friends.”

“Then why are you two meeting for coffee?” she teased. “I should go with you. Make sure things don’t get too serious.”

Pins and needles tingled my fingers. I’d been gripping my milkshake the entire time without realizing, numbing my hand with pressure and cold. I sipped my drink and pushed the glass away—far away, to the land of ketchup and mustard bottles.

“I’ll manage. Jack will still be around. I’ll call you afterward.”

Lauren must have sensed my discomfort, because she immediately dropped the subject and began talking about henna hair dye and organic nail polish.

I was glad for a friend who knew me well, but there was still something about me that neither of us knew:

I was a horrible judge of character.

WITH SOME TIME LEFT before I planned to meet Charles, I ran a search for Basker Street on the break room computer—one of Jack’s few modern-day indulgences.