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Authors: Melissa Giorgio

BOOK: The Sight Seer
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Chapter Seven

 

When I got home I found Chloe sitting cross-legged on my bed, hugging my white body pillow to her chest.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, taking in her giant frown.

A year younger than me, Chloe was still growing into her looks, but it was obvious we were sisters.
We shared the same straight, honey-colored hair (although hers was currently striped with streaks of red) and brown eyes, and while we were currently the same height, I had a sneaking suspicion she was going to pass me soon. While I seemed to have stopped growing in all areas of my body, Chloe was still stretching. I swear she grew every time I saw her. And not just in height, either. No, the damn girl wore a bigger sized bra than me, too. The universe had a twisted sense of humor.

Chloe was pretty, and had plenty of male admirers, but the only one she had her eye on, Christian Thompson, had broken her heart real bad over the summer.
I had tried to tell her over a shared gallon of cookie dough ice cream that relationships when you’re this young rarely ever last (unless you’re Penny and Harrison), but she had snapped at me and said a person with zero relationship experience shouldn’t offer advice. After that I had wisely shut my mouth and looked the other way when she started dating anyone in hopes of making Christian jealous. From the look on her face, it was obvious her latest attempt hadn’t worked.

And just for the record, I have dated guys, but nothing ever developed from those dates.
Penny says my standards are too high—is that honestly a bad thing?

Chloe sighed dramatically (most days she was the very definition of dramatic) and flopped down on her back, staring up at my ceiling.
I dropped my bag on the floor, kicked off my shoes, and scooted next to her. “I got into a fight with Dad.”

“Again?”
I frowned. “Now what?”

“He didn’t believe me when I said I was at Tori’s house last night and we got into a huge fight!
Says I should stop partying and start studying.” She widened her kohl-rimmed eyes. “I fail one test and suddenly he thinks I’m going to flunk out of school! And good, who needs school, anyway?”

If I told her why she needed school, she’d accuse me of trying to act like Mom and storm out.
Instead, I said, “Where did you go last night—anywhere good?”

“No.”
She punched my pillow. “Mike was having something, but it was lame. We left early and crashed at Tori’s house. So I really wasn’t doing anything wrong!”

Not this time, anyway.
I couldn’t even say how many times she’d come home wasted and I’d had to lie to Dad for her. I hoped what happened last night would be a new trend for her, but I doubted it.

“Why’d you leave?”

“Christian was there. With Stacey Kellington.” She said her name like a curse and I winced in sympathy. Stacey was in my grade, and was pretty much every male’s fantasy come true. Blonde, blue-eyed, and a supermodel figure. But I knew for a fact that she had to diet extensively to keep that figure, so hah on her.

“No wonder you left.”

“I hate her.” Chloe sniffled. “I hate him, but I don’t. Gabi, when is it going to get better?”

“Aww, Chlo,” I said, pulling her into my arms.
“It will. I promise.” I smiled at her. “Hey, I know. There’s a carton of ice cream with our name on it just sitting in the freezer, and a scary movie fest on tonight!” I squeezed her shoulder. “What do you say? Want to watch dumb cheerleaders get hacked to death with a chainsaw?”

“Oh my god, y
es!”

As we passed the ice cream back and forth, laughing when the sorority girl met her ghastly demise within five minutes of the movie starting, Dad joined us, sitting next to Chloe.
I stopped laughing, trying to watch the two of them out of the corner of my eye without being too obvious about it. Chloe sat stiffly for a couple of minutes, but then she was handing Dad the ice cream and all was good between them. As usual. This is why I didn’t let myself get involved in their fights. There were too many to keep track of and they were perfectly capable of patching things up on their own. If I got involved, I usually ended up having the both of them mad at me, and who needed that?

Sometimes it sucked being stuck in the middle, but it was just the three of us, so what could I do?
Dad and I got along for the most part; I was the dutiful older daughter who listened to him when he told me I should get a job, or, more importantly, look out for my little sister. Because I listened, I was given more freedom than most kids my age. We had a good thing going, Dad and I, with this relationship built on trust. It probably helped that Chloe fought him every step of the way. I looked like an angel compared to Chloe.

I leaned my head against the back of the couch, more than a little tired from my long day.
Meeting Rafe, seeing a demon…sheesh, when had my life become so
exciting
? I chuckled quietly; Chloe heard me and gave me a big smile before passing me the ice cream. As she rested her head against my shoulder, I was surprised that I felt a sense of contentment after everything that had happened today.

Chapter Eight

 

The week passed by slowly and uneventfully.
I went to school, worked a couple of short shifts at the Corral, and put up with Penny’s endless questions about Rafe. I think Harrison talked to her about it because starting on Wednesday, Rafe’s name was conspicuously absent from all conversation. Or maybe she finally got the hint and knew I didn’t want to talk about him.

Nah,
it was Harrison. Damn, I owed him big time.

I did hear from Rafe, via text message, to confirm our not-date for Sunday.
I may have smiled stupidly after getting his message, but it only lasted for a second. Or a minute, whatever. I was alone in my bedroom so no one saw me, anyway.

Thursday afternoon I tried to tackle some math problems before dinner
, but found I had too much restless energy and couldn’t concentrate. Grabbing my soft-as-a-kitten’s-fur hooded sweatshirt, I headed downstairs and outside to the garden.

The garden
. Sigh. My personal paradise. And a place that was nearly ruined by that stupid demon the other night.

The garden had been
Mom’s passion, a passion she passed on to me. As a little girl I would watch her water the plants, tackle the stubborn weeds, and plant new seeds. When I got a little older, I helped her out, a big smile on my face every time I discovered something new sprouting.             

And then she left.

I don’t know what happened. None of us did, not even Dad. Sure, he could be lying, but I saw his face that day—he was just as devastated as the rest of us. We were supposed to go on vacation—our first ever trip to Disney World. Chloe and I hadn’t slept for a week, that’s how excited we had been. I remember running down the stairs, my little pink suitcase with sparkly unicorns on it trailing behind me, hitting each carpeted step with a muffled thump. Chloe was right behind me with her midnight-blue suitcase with rainbow-colored stars scattered across the front, her hair in messy, lopsided pigtails I had made for her. I was nine, she was eight. We ran into the kitchen, screaming with glee, only to find Dad sitting there, his brown eyes rimmed with red. He was holding a crumpled piece of paper in his hand; Mom had left him a letter, but he never let us read it. I think he burnt it in the fireplace, I don’t know. I did try looking for it when I was twelve, but despite my best efforts I could never find it.

I thought she was happy.
I was happy, Chloe was happy, Dad was happy, so why was Mom unhappy? Why would she just leave us, our perfect little family of four, without saying goodbye? She had come in the night before to kiss me on the forehead and tell me to sleep tight, the same as every night. I’ve replayed that scene over and over again, but I’ve never come up with a clue or indication that she was unhappy.

Things changed after that.
Chloe became sullen and withdrawn, and I had a hard time trusting people besides Penny. One day I found myself wandering the garden, shocked to see how overgrown the weeds had become. Squatting down, I ripped them out violently, one by one, feeling a little bit better with each green stalk I added to my growing pile. I realized then that I didn’t want the garden, a place that was filled with so many happy memories, to be destroyed like everything else. It was therapeutic, somehow. I tried to get Chloe to help me, to see if it could heal her as well, but she told me the whole thing should be burned to the ground. I slapped her hard across the face and told her to never set foot in the garden again.

She never did.

I loved the garden in the spring and summer, when flowers of every color bloomed, filling the air with their sweet scent. This year I had started growing vegetables, and I even put in a pumpkin patch. I had been pleasantly surprised to see the pumpkins growing to a nice size; Dad was already talking about pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. He didn’t mind that I took care of the garden for Mom. I had asked him once, but he only smiled sadly and said he was sure Mom would be glad to know I was keeping everything alive for her.

As if she would come back.

I used to pretend, when I was younger, that the door would open one morning, maybe on my birthday or Christmas, and Mom would be there with an armful of presents and her cheery smile. She’d apologize for leaving so suddenly, telling us she left because she was actually a spy or a princess of some foreign country or…I don’t know. The childish fantasies went on and on, but as the years advanced, I began to realize she wasn’t coming back, ever.

I don’t even know what I would say to her if she did,
I thought with a grimace as I raked fallen leaves into a small pile.
‘Hi, Mom, where have you been for the past seven years?’

How’s life treating you?’ ‘Thanks for nearly destroying this family?’ ‘How could you?’
I have no idea. I stopped making up scenarios when I turned fourteen. The less time I spent thinking about her, the better. But it was hard
not
to think about her when I stood here, surrounded by her passion,
my
passion, now.

When I went back inside to wash up for dinner, my phone beeped.
Picking it up, I saw another message from Rafe and smiled. He was reminding me—again—about our mall trip on Sunday. As if I could forget.

Gee, should I be flattered that he was so excited?
Or was he just using me for my eyes? You know, it figured. I stumble across a pretty decent guy, and he chops up vengeful spirits for a living. What’s that they say about nice guys? They’re either married, gay or…demon hunters.

Shaking my head, I replied to his text, letting him know I wasn’t that dumb and hadn’t forgotten about our plans (I said it a lot nicer in the text).
Tossing the phone back on my bed, I went downstairs to see if Dad needed help in the kitchen.

Chapter Nine

 

On Sunday morning I woke up earlier than I had intended and was confused to feel butterflies dancing in my stomach.
Then I remembered, today was mall day. With Rafe. And demons, possibly.

I wasn’t sure which part I was more nervous about.

I curled up on my side, trying in vain to fall back asleep. When that proved impossible, I threw back my covers and went to take a shower in the bathroom I shared with Chloe. After I turned the water off and wrapped myself in a thick, soft towel, the other door opened and Chloe stumbled in.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”
The bathroom was between our bedrooms and the walls were paper-thin. I thought I had been quiet, but she must have heard the running water.

“What are you doing up so early?” she asked, yawning.
She sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and watched me get dressed. Her eyes widened when she saw me applying makeup. “Are you going on a
date
?”

“No.”

“Are you
sure
?”

I dabbed on some clear lip gloss.
“Completely sure. I’m just going to mall. With a friend.” I barely knew Rafe; could I really call him a friend?


Mmmhmm,” Chloe said, rolling her eyes. “It’s about damn time.”

I threw my hairbrush at her.
“Oh, shut up.”

She snorted with laughter before returning to her bedroom to go back to sleep.
Good. Chloe usually slept until two; she wouldn’t see Rafe when he came to get me at eleven.

Unfortunately, Dad wa
s an early riser, and his eyebrows lifted into the stratosphere when I walked into the kitchen.

“What?” I asked, immediately feeling self-conscious.
I was wearing jeans and a nice shirt, my hair loose and my makeup tasteful. I didn’t look like I was trying hard, or at least I didn’t think so. But if
Dad
could tell I was making an effort, then I might be in trouble.

“What’s on today’s agenda?” he asked, trying to play it cool as he reached for his cup of coffee and took a slow sip, eyeing me over the rim.

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed a box of sugary cereal and dumped some into a bowl. Opening the fridge to get the milk I answered, “The mall. With a friend.”

“Penny?”

“No.” Might as well tell him everything. “A boy.”

“Really?” Dad asked as I slid into a seat across from him.
“Anyone I know?”

“No…

“Hmm.”
Dad leaned back in his chair and studied me. He had become pretty relaxed recently, but I usually didn’t go out with random boys and wondered if I had crossed a line by not telling him about this earlier. “Is he coming to pick you up?” I nodded, my mouth full of cereal. Dad nodded back. “Then I guess I’ll meet him then.”

“Dad!” I wailed after I swallowed.
“Do you really have to?”

He gave me a
look
that said
yes
, he really had to. Sighing, I resisted the urge to grumble under my breath, knowing that would land me in a world of trouble. And who wanted to tell Rafe that I suddenly had to cancel because I was grounded for mouthing off to Dad?

Although Rafe might cancel once Dad finished interrogating him.

His car pulled up in front of the house a couple of minutes before 11. I wanted to dash out without telling Dad, but I thought better of that—I didn’t want to be grounded until I was forty. “He’s here,” I said sullenly, slinging my bag over my shoulder and walking outside.

Rafe had already gotten out of the car and was coming up the walkway.
I tried to tell him with my eyes to get back into the car where it was safe, but I must have been sending him the wrong message, because instead he gave me a huge grin.

He was dressed casually, in jeans that fit him nicely, and a short-sleeved blue shirt that showed off his biceps.
I was staring a little too hard at his arms and had to give myself a mental shake to get a hold of myself. I
wasn’t
staring at his arms, I told myself. No, I was wondering where his coat was. There was a biting chill to the air, letting us know winter was on its way.

“No coat?” Dad asked, echoing my thoughts.
I groaned when he pushed past me to hold out his hand to Rafe. “Hello, I’m Steven Harkins. Gabi’s
father
.” Obviously, Dad. You didn’t have to put extra emphasis on the word.

“Nice to meet you.”
Rafe shook his hand. “Rafe Fitzgerald, sir.”

Dad looked him over, being totally obvious about it, too.
I felt myself flushing, wishing he would hurry up and find whatever it was he was looking for and leave us be. “How do you and my daughter know one another?”

“Ah, actually, we met at the Corral last weekend,” Rafe lied smoothly.
I raised my eyebrows behind Dad’s back, but Rafe ignored me. “We got to talking and, well, before you know it, her shift was over. I wanted to see her again, so I asked her if she’d like to go to the mall with me. Is that alright, sir?”

“Hmm.”
Dad crossed his arms. I held my breath, waiting for his decision. “Just the mall?”

Rafe nodded.
“We’ll just do some shopping and grab lunch, and I promise I’ll have her home by dinnertime. Sir,” he added quickly as he waited for Dad’s approval.

“Alright, I suppose that’s acceptable.”


Dad
,” I complained when it looked like he was going to add something else. Like, if you touch my daughter I’ll hunt you down with my non-existent rifle.

Dad chuckled, and my eyes widened.
He was doing this on purpose!
And he wonders why I never bring guys over to meet him!
Not that I had very many to bring home, but still.
What the hell, Dad! Was there some unwritten law that states fathers must embarrass their daughters as much as possible?

He finally released us and I all but ran to the car, throwing open the door before Rafe could do it for me and diving into the front seat.
He came around and slid into the driver’s seat, laughing under his breath.

“So, did I pass?” he asked.

I buried my head in my hands and groaned, which made him laugh even harder. “Please, just drive before he decides to embarrass me any further!” Dad was standing on the front porch, watching us with his arms crossed over his chest. He gave me a stern nod when he saw me looking and I begged Rafe, “Drive already!”

“Alright, alright!”
He pulled away from the curb,
still
laughing. I gave a very loud, very irritated sigh and stared out the windshield, waiting for him to compose himself. “So,” he said a few minutes later, “does your dad interrogate all of your friends like that, or am I just special?”

I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I think he woke up today and realized he needed to fill his ‘drive Gabi crazy’ quota for the month all in one shot.” I didn’t mention the fact that besides Harrison—who didn’t count—he was the first guy I had invited over in ages. Well, I hadn’t invited him over. I just told him to pick me up in front of my house. That was a major difference.

I kept this to myself
, but I wasn’t sure why. Did I want him to think there were other guys in my life? Did he care? Did
I
care? I mean, we were going demon hunting. He needed me for my eyes, and I owed him for saving my life the other night. That’s it. There were no hidden meanings behind today. We were simply two people going to the mall.

Together.

“Don’t forget you owe me a pretzel,” I said, pressing my fingers to the glass and running them slowly down the cold surface.

“I didn’t.”

“Do you think we’ll See a demon?” It was still weird discussing this, despite everything I had seen last week. It wasn’t hard to pretend like none of that had ever happened.

Rafe shrugged.
“I have no idea. There’s a chance we will, and also a chance we won’t.”

“But you want me to See one with my Sight, don’t you?”
I turned around to look at the backseat. Besides Rafe’s dark discarded jacket, the seat was empty. “Isn’t that the whole point of today—to convince me to help you? You’re recruiting me, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘recruiting,’ per say.”
He lifted his dark eyebrows. “What are you looking for back there?”

“Your sword.”

“My sword!” Rafe laughed again as he stopped for a red light. He switched on his left turn signal to turn into the mall, strumming his long fingers against the top of the steering wheel. “Gabi, I don’t just carry it around with me!”

“But what are you going to kill the demon with?
If we See one,” I quickly added, hoping we didn’t. Or did. I had no idea what I wanted.

The light turned green and Rafe
turned into the mall entrance. Pulling into the parking lot, he found a spot and turned off the car before answering me. “You’ll just have to wait and see.” He tipped his head in my direction. “
If
we See one, right?” Grabbing his jacket from the back, he opened his door and got out.

I quickly followed.
“Oh, I get it. This is one of those if you tell me you have to kill me things, right? But if I See it, well, then you can just say there was nothing you could do about it. It was either save me by revealing your big secret, or keep the secret safe and let me die.” I shoved my hands in my pockets as we walked to the mall’s entrance.

“You have an active imagination,”
he said, opening the door and gesturing for me to go in first.

“And you have good manners.”

Rafe grinned. “Thanks.” He bowed and I couldn’t help but laugh.

This boy was way too charming for his own good.
And mine, too. I had a feeling today was going to be interesting, demon or no demon.

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