Two Halves Series (13 page)

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Authors: Marta Szemik

Tags: #urban life, #fantasy, #adventure, #collection, #teen, #paranormal romance, #young adult, #magic, #box set, #series, #shapeshifters, #ghosts, #vampires, #witch, #omnibus, #love, #witchcraft, #demons

BOOK: Two Halves Series
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“William,” I whispered.
He’s real. He’s not just in my dreams!
Until today, I thought he was a figment of my imagination, because when I slept he was always there. . .

 

We sat in a corner booth at a dance club somewhere in New York City. I sipped on a Fuzzy Navel; William’s favourite, a Bloody Caesar, set in front of him.

William took me by my shoulders. His touch sent electric shock waves through our bodies. The aches didn’t stop us, and he stepped closer. William’s turquoise eyes sparkled, both in the sunlight and at night. I saw my own identical pair reflected in his. I felt his breath on my face and concentrated on his strong jaw and lopsided smile.

Taking my hand, William gently kissed it and asked me to dance. We walked out on the parquet floor. Stepping behind me, William slid his arms around my waist. His shirt was open, and I felt his bare chest against my back, exposed in a Marilyn Monroe-style black halter dress that plunged to just above the swell of my buttocks.

Our heartbeats behaved. We moved slowly despite the fast rhythm of the music, building up endorphins that gave us power and control. With each touch, these changed to a natural aphrodisiac. Our being there was simple. We had to be together, as one.

 

In my dreams I’d known him since childhood, yet he seemed like an alien from another planet, visiting only when I slept. My hope to one day meet him turned to a quest, because now, I was certain he was real.

I glanced back to the letter.

Helen wanted me to find him. Now that I think about it, whenever I’d mentioned William from my dreams, the lines on her face had always creased up in approval.

And her warning about the serum—why would I stop taking it? The serum allowed me to sleep. Okay, so I had reduced the dose occasionally to stay awake at night to study, which had always displeased Helen. Now I knew why. It also kept me hidden from . . . the seekers.

My stomach clenched with hunger and I hefted the chest to carry it downstairs.

I set the wooden box of mementos on the table and pulled a bowl from the kitchen cupboard for cereal.

Since the kitchen was still dark, I looked out the window checking for trespassers. The sun’s rim peeked through the golden-brown trees on the horizon. “What am I doing?” I said aloud. This was Pinedale, after all, one of those towns you could find on a map and know you could die from boredom. Yet for me, this town was ideal. No creatures from my dreams would ever think of coming here. It was home—my home.

I pulled the carton of milk from the fridge and checked its date. “Great. Expired two weeks ago. What the heck. It’s not like it could kill me.”  The milk flowed in the bowl. White chunks splattered the table. A wet spot stained my khakis.
Crap!
I threw the empty carton into the sink. Sipping from the rim of the bowl, I made space for the cereal and then tipped in some Cheerios.

Helen would flip if she saw this!
I set the box down and snagged the dish cloth to wipe the wooden table. Turning toward the mantel of the unused fireplace, I lifted a spoonful toward a small urn. “See, Auntie? I’m eating.”

I swallowed the cereal, then took a sip from the bowl to wash it down. With my eyes closed, I let the flavours soak my taste buds.
Even spoiled milk is better than blood
, I lied to myself. Animal blood tasted almost like blended carrot and beet juice. My lips parted at the thought as I licked them over. The tugging at my arteries reminded me to fill my veins—a necessity I couldn’t avoid if I wanted to keep my tawny complexion and heart beating.

I’m such a freak!

I left the empty bowl in the sink. My brain stormed for more answers, and I needed them now: even if I risked running into the demons from my dreams.

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

I pulled out my backpack from under the hall table and frowned at a loose stitch along a patch covering a hole. Helen’s chest barely fit into the pack. I threw two syringes and the serum on top of it, hoping William would come back when I napped.

Two weeks had passed since I’d last dreamt of William. Perversely, when the dreams stopped, I felt closer to him. I would turn my head to look across the street, expecting him to be there, but he wasn’t. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and glimpse a shadow that disappeared. Only a scent of jasmine, rose, and lilac with a woody musk undercurrent would remain. I smelled William in my room, but he wasn’t there.

A rustle from the living room drew my attention. Sunlight creeping in the hall window hit my eyes. I lowered my sunglasses from their usual hair accessory placement.
It’s time.
The crate in the corner of the living room housed my meal. Inside, guinea pigs huddled under a pile of wood chips. One twist broke their necks, and I sucked them dry. A rush of new life swam through my veins but I stuck my tongue out in disgust, as if I’d eaten cooked liver with strained peas. It wasn’t that it tasted bad—it tasted sweet yet sour. Sometimes I imagined a blend of sunshine and falling, stars in my mouth. But I refused to accept it. I had to make a face.

Sated, I grabbed a sweater and the backpack and walked out the double glass door into a warm autumn wind carrying the tantalizing aroma of baking pumpkin pies. Everyone in Pinedale baked on the weekend before Halloween, preparing for the annual bake sale in the town square.

I walked quicker than usual to my flower shop but had to stop when a gust of wind blew my hat off just like yesterday.

A stranger picked it up and held it out to me.

“Thank you,” I said, accepting it. I hesitated, examining the familiar dimple in his chin. “Have we met before?”

“No.” He dropped his head. The sharpness of his voice took me aback.

No, of course not.
I nodded, ready to move, only to halt in mid-step, confused—curious. Not at his answer, but the familiar scent: floral and woodsy and musky. I turned to look at his back as he strode away, and confusion soothed into the same comfort I felt in my dreams. Yes, the tall stranger’s build was similar to William’s. I pushed my sunglasses up. His movements brisk but precise, the similarities were remarkable.

“Wi . . . William?” I whispered.
It can’t be.

William did not dress like a vagabond, I told myself. The hem of his long, worn coat was stained dark with mud. The black jeans soiled, and the untucked flannel shirt had been too casual. No, William’s sleek style didn’t reflect this homeless man’s look. As a well-dressed buff in my dreams, William modelled a clean-shaven face, not what looked like two days’ worth of stubble on this man’s face.

Still, my heart skipped a beat. I clenched my fist to my chest, pressing it against a rhythm I did not recognize. My sucked in breath acknowledged the new pulse as I quickened my pace toward my store.

I bumped into someone and looked up at another stranger. “Oops, I’m sorry.”

“It’s Sarah, right?” the man said with confidence.

I stared at him like he was a movie star. Tall, with a fit body, the man posed like a model. Even a thick sweater and loose jeans couldn’t hide his well-defined limbs. In a hurry, his cheeks blotched with red spots, and his chest rose and deflated in a quick rhythm. He studied me from behind his aviators, as if making sure he had the right person.

“Yes. Do I know you?” I asked.

His head skidded a fraction to the right, as if listening to something I couldn’t hear. “No, I’m sorry.” He moved his face closer to mine, holding his sunglasses with his fingertips. “I mistook you for someone else.” A hint of purple sparked, reflecting from the lenses. He walked away. “What now?” I heard him mutter to himself.

“Wait—” I called, but he was gone, quicker than the vagabond.

This is going to be a strange day.

I resumed my trek along the narrow sidewalk, but I sometimes peeked over my shoulder, at the top of the two-storey buildings I passed, expecting to see someone looking at me from the roof. No one was there. My gaze shifted toward the windows but couldn’t see anyone peeping. The deep and narrow alleys that ran between the brick buildings didn’t scare me, but it felt like mysterious watchers would step out any minute. No one emerged.
Nerves
, I thought, but a frisson swept through my body. Rushed, I did not stop until I reached the front of my store.

I admired the greenery behind the glass window. As I reached for the handle on the front door, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out.

“Hi Mira!” I leaned back against the front window.

“Sarah!” She almost screamed.

I smiled. My upbeat friend could permanently engrave a grin on my face.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while. Is everything okay?” There was tension in her voice. A while for Mira was anything over twenty-four hours.

“Yeah, why?” I ignored the fact that I’d bumped into two strangers in Pinedale this morning, “I had the weirdest feeling that you’re going away somewhere without telling me.”

“Me, going away? Ha!” I let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Weird, isn’t it? I just thought, if you were leaving, you’d at least say goodbye.”

“Mira, I don’t think I’ll ever leave this town.” My jaw clenched at the sudden yearning to go away. “Or you,” I added to ease her worry.

“Well, you know what I always say . . .”

“Never say never!” We both laughed. Around Mira, I felt as if I were still in my teens, acting goofy and odd.

“Meet me for dinner tonight?” she asked.

“Um, how about Saturday?” I tried, stalling, then quickly added, “I have a few orders to finish.” The truth was, when alone with either of the siblings, I had a strong urge to tell them about my ability to foresee the future through my dreams, and about the real me. But I never did, too afraid to be shunned.

“That’s way too long,” she whined.

“Only four days,” I adjusted my voice to a higher pitch.

“You know how many things can happen in four days?” she exclaimed.

“In Pinedale?” I snorted. “Oh, that’s right—that black bear from our camping trip finally found your scent and came to get his revenge,” I teased.

“Yes, you’re so funny.” She sniffed. “First of all, it’s not my scent as much as Xander’s he’d be looking for. And
now
I’m starting to hope he’d get you two confused.”

“Okay, okay, let’s do it Friday. I can’t do it any earlier. Is Xander joining us?” I bit my lower lip. I enjoyed his company just as much as Mira’s, but now that I knew the truth about William, I hoped I could finally muster enough courage to tell her about my dreams. She’d believe me. That’s the kind of friend Mira was—she’d cry when I cried, laugh when I laughed, and believe the most doubtful truth if I said it was so. Only I never found the courage to spill all of my secrets.

“Of course he is. We’ll meet you at The Grill, Friday at seven,” she confirmed.

“Oh,” I let disappointment slip.

“Unless you don’t want him to be there?” I pictured Mira raising her eyebrows. I didn’t find her questioning odd; the siblings were my best friends and came as a package deal. You simply couldn’t be a friend with one and not the other.

“No, that’s okay,” I said.

“Don’t be late, Sarah. I really need to talk to you.”

“I’m never late.”

“Never say never,” she quipped.

“Hey, did you borrow my cream shirt?” I asked.

“Are you missing another one?”

“Yeah, I guess I’ve been busy lately. I’ll have to check the laundry again.”

“Let me know if you need help,” she offered. “I’ll see you Friday.” She hung up before I found another excuse.

“See you Friday, Mira,” I said to the phone.
Friday I’ll tell her the truth.
I’ll just have to distract Xander with food. Yes. Food will keep him preoccupied.

Tension tugged at my intestines. Chills ran up my spine. My confession would be one the siblings didn’t expect.

I shoved the phone into my pocket and glanced across the street to Mrs. G’s Natural Healings store. Mira’s and Xander’s mom owned it. Beyond the line of a shingled roof, the snow-capped peaks of the Grand Teton Mountains glistened in the morning sun.
A perfect ad image for her herb and natural medicine store
. In tune with nature, Mira and Xander would serve as the store’s walking advertisements if people didn’t keep their distance from them.

Sometimes they have reason to
, I thought, remembering a time when I’d witnessed the siblings helping a wolf. Mira yelled, “Hold him down!” to her brother in the front yard of their veterinary clinic.

“I am!” Xander had snapped back. “Hold him tighter!” The wolf had yelped in pain but didn’t growl. It didn’t try to bite Xander as he freed its paw from a steel-jawed leg-hold trap with his bare hands.

“There you go,” Mira had murmured into its ear.

Mira and Xander had a way with animals. They looked straight into their eyes and touched them without being attacked. Mira’s whispers soothed the animals’ emotions and Xander’s strength eased their physical injuries. They rehabilitated foxes, raccoons, and mountain lions and sent them all back to the forest.

I empathized with their odd behaviour, as it resembled my own, and often questioned their abilities. Who else could hold down a wolf? Okay, a vampire probably could, but I preferred to pretend vampires didn’t exist, and with the caramel skin, the siblings were definitely not vampires. Neither Mira nor Xander ever asked questions; they never treated me like an outcast. They accepted me and I them, and I wondered what would happen if they knew the truth.

I turned the key in the front door and smiled at the familiar squeak of the hinges that heralded my entrance into my oasis. The heavy scent of flowers greeted me, and I inhaled deeply as I stepped inside. The warm moisture hung in the air, settling on my bare skin. At first glance, the store looked like it melded into an infinite corridor of exotic trees, shrubs, and plants. It was a greenhouse with a small waterfall in its center, splashing into a pond where goldfish dreamt.

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