Aconite (The Elektita Series Book 1)

Aconite

CHRISTINE ALVAREZ

Copyright © 2015 by Christine
Alvarez

All rights reserved.

No part of this
book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means
including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in
writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote
short excerpts in a review.

This book is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products
of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Christine Alvarez

First Printing: January, 2015

ISBN-13: 978-1505579185

ISBN-10: 150557918X

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First,
and foremost, I would like to thank my husband, friends and family who put up
with my constant mood swings, incessant need to bounce ideas off anyone who
would listen and who never let me give up. My children, my babies, they deserve
a very special thank you. They cannot give me opinions or listen to me ponder
over scenes and structure, but they still offered support where they could.
They cheered me on through each personal goal I met or fell short at and gave
me the small push when I couldn’t find the words. I love you all. 

            I have to give a huge
shout out to Super Bree. I walked into this world not having a clue and was
lucky enough to meet her straight out of the gate. Without her I would probably
be running in circles and you all would still be waiting. The endless e-mails,
text messages, and Facebook back and fourths helped create my beautiful cover
and make sure it was perfect before I sent it out into the world. You are not
only a business partner but a true friend and I hope you know I feel truly
blessed. 

            My betas; you put up
with craziness trying to get through my first manuscript and I couldn’t thank
you enough for the ideas, fresh eyes and time you put into reading Aconite. You
all are a huge part in putting quality books out there. I see you all as
friends and I couldn’t image handing over my baby to anyone else.

            The Indie community
deserves mad props as well. I threw myself into their world and expected
nothing and received everything. I met fabulous authors like Kellie Coakley.
She has always been just a private message away never letting me fall into the
abyss; answering all of my questions no matter how off the wall they were. You
helped point me in the right direction when I had wondered off the path. Thank
you, Doll!

            Last, but most
definitely closest to the top, I want to give a huge advanced thank you to all
those that have invested there money and hours into reading my debut novel. You
all are the reason that I write and will continue to write. Please don’t
hesitate to give a constructive review. Authors learn from you and your reviews
count. Not for numbers, bragging, or complaining rights, but as a helpful tool
into creating a better reading experience for those who love to read.

Christine

I couldn’t run
fast enough. Twigs and brush caught against the many layers of my dress as I
ran through the night. A tree trunk that had fallen long ago almost caused me
to fall well before I was clear of the mounting danger. Dense trees worked to
provide security; but something was out there; stalking me, playing with me,
turning that attempt against me. The sane part of me knew that outrunning it
wasn’t an option, but I couldn’t give up; fighting was my only option. A gust
of warm, rank air crested along my exposed skin whirling me around to scan my surroundings.
I was alone, completely alone. My fear became my only company. A crash too
close for comfort caused me to stumble and fall into a bed of wolfsbane. I
recognized it, not from knowledge, but from a memory that I couldn’t place. I
lay on the forest floor feeling my heart hammer against my chest.

I tried to hide in
the small patch of flowers. I let them hold me; keep me safe from whatever was
out there. I prayed that the petals and vines would be enough to protect me
from the monster that stalked me. The unmistakable sounds of footsteps grew
softer as whoever it was grew nearer to my hiding place. The beating of my
heart was loud in my own ears. I held my breath as it was the only other
protection I could summon. Maybe if they couldn’t hear me they would keep
going. But I knew my time was up.

That dream and
others like it had consumed my nights as far back as I could remember. But the
last one felt different. It felt real. Faceless creatures and things that go
bump in the night are the classic definition of a nightmare. I relished in
those nightmares. Outside of them I felt like constantly searching; waiting for
something just beyond my reach. But this time I woke up drenched in sweat and
out of breath, almost as if I had actually been running. I even confessed as
much to my parents who brushed it off as nothing but a bad dream. They wanted
me to focus more on their dreams rather than my own. I had even enrolled into a
local community college to placate them. My father, Ben just knew I would get
my doctorate and one day take over the family practice. My mother, Rhonda, was
content with her own ideas. In her vision I would graduate from college, settle
down with an accountant and move into the house next door. I didn’t want to do
any of that. They were far from thrilled when I came home after quitting my job
and putting college on hold to go on a journey to find out exactly where I was
supposed to be. They would never understand that the price of staying was too
high; because they were where they wanted to be.

**********************************

The wolfsbane from
that dream had seared itself into my mind; giving it a permanent place on my
body didn’t even warrant a second thought. The idea felt more like a necessary
compulsion. I hadn’t even felt the pain as the needle sliced into my skin.

The Ocean View Inn
in Reedsport, Oregon was perfect, just like the postcard had promised. I held
up the postcard comparing the two. Reedsport was picture perfect right down to
the little wooden welcome sign that sat out front. I absently ran my hand along
the still bandaged tattoo that now donned my chest.  What had I gotten myself
into? What does it say about someone who chose their destination based off a
truck stop postcard? All I knew was rural Missouri just wasn’t hacking it.

 As I entered the
Inn, a tall willowy lady that had to be in her late sixties manned the front
desk, greeting me with a warm smile.

“Good afternoon
and welcome to Ocean View Inn. How can I help you?” She didn’t stare at the
bandage that covered my cleavage nor did she give my shorts and t-shirt a
second glance. It was refreshing after all the questioning stares I had
received getting here.

“I’d like to rent
a room for as long as you would allow it—Linda,” I said, glancing at her name
tag. I never like asking anyone for anything without first knowing their name.

“Of course, I have
only one room left, and it is yours for as long as you would like.” Linda
tapped at her desktop inputting all the information on my driver’s license.

“What brings you
so far from home, Ms. Alexis Davis?” she asked, handing back my cards. I just
spent the majority of what I brought securing a place to stay.

“Not sure,” I
answered honestly. That was the truth as far as I could tell. How sane would I
seem if I told her that a random postcard had brought me here? Her never
wavering smile and a nod made my answer seem normal. She acted as if my answer
was the most logical thing she had ever heard.  I grabbed the key and the
complimentary Reedsport Gazette and made it to my room in desperate need of a
shower and food.

The room was just
like any other hotel room with its generic flowered wallpaper, a single bed
that faced a small desk, and TV. I was grateful for the mini fridge and coffee
pot. Coffee is a must in my book. The Inn even had a deal with Papa’s Pasta and
Subs that sat right next door. With limited funds until I found a job,
discounts would have to do. I ordered dinner and took a quick shower while I
waited. The delivery man still hadn’t arrived, so I scanned the help wanted
section. It was teeming with job openings and I had my list narrowed down in no
time. But one ad in particular had my name written all over it. Antiques and
Oddities was looking for someone who could catalog and organize high-end
antiques. There is nothing mundane about history. The only requirement was
experience; being an ex-office secretary and college dropout wasn’t exactly top
notch hiring material, but here was to hoping that luck was on my side.

When my food
finally arrived I twirled the noodles around my fork unable to eat. I closed
the lid on the takeout container and tossed it into the waste basket. The box
popped open causing my leftovers to cover the bottom of the basket. So much for
saving money, I thought. I couldn’t eat a thing. Instead I filled my mind with
thoughts of what tomorrow would bring and drifted off into a restless sleep.

**********************************

I woke from an
unusually dreamless night that had filled me with more energy than I’d had in
months. I scrounged through my clothes, finally settling on a slightly wrinkled
pantsuit that covered my tattoo. I didn’t know how many employers would look
past it long enough to even consider my resume. I stood in front of the full
length mirror that hung in the bathroom. The four inch heels and small amount
of makeup had me feeling great. I could even overlook the plain as day creases
in my top. The high ponytail let my sandy blond hair flow down my back and the
smoky eye shadow had actually put a sparkle in my eye that I had never noticed
before. Even the freckles that sat on my cheeks didn’t feel so childish. I
wasn’t well endowed and my genetic makeup didn’t give me the good graces of
having an ass to fill out my jeans but I wasn’t ugly by definition. Just plain
compared to other women my age. I couldn’t tell if it was the extra sleep or my
new adventure but I was feeling confident as I grabbed my list and resumes and
headed out the door.

 I hadn’t given
myself enough time to make coffee but Linda knew the best place in town to get
a cup. A girl cannot start out the day without her coffee. The Inn stood smack
dab in the middle of town that only expanded a mile each way. You either hit
the ocean or forest so I chose to walk. September in Oregon was perfect walking
weather, and it gave me a better opportunity to get to know my temporary home.
It turned out walking was the general mode of transport. The sidewalks were
teeming with people coming and going from shops and restaurants. Trucks hauling
their catch to the local markets were the only vehicles that occupied the
streets. The lack of exhaust and the breeze coming off the Pacific Ocean kept
the small town smelling of salt and sea.

I finally made it
to Shore Side Cafe. Going through the door I noticed a help wanted sign. After
ordering a large caramel macchiato and blueberry scone to go, I left my resume
with a stout brunette at the counter. While I ate and walked I took in the
place that was plastered on the post card. Seagulls, fisherman, and giggling
children all accented the large forest scenery that sat in the distance.

Apparently I was
so engrossed in the scenery that I wasn't aware of anyone until I slammed into
a man, slinging my coffee all over his white designer shirt and outrageously
expensive black slacks. I scrambled to pick up my scattered papers, having
never felt so utterly mortified. All plans of apologies died instantly when I
craned my neck to look directly into the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen. A
husky was the only other thing I could compare them too. Those eyes flashed in
irritation against his flawless caramel skin. Jet black hair woven into a braid
lay across his shoulder and the tick in his high cheek bones gave greater
definition to his growing annoyance. His full lips put a sexy twist on the
entire situation. Realizing I was standing there stupidly appraising the man
that was currently wearing my coffee, I felt a blush of embarrassment creep up
my face.

"I'm sorry. I
will pay for the dry cleaning," I said.

The look in his
eyes was overwhelming; like a predator would study his prey before he attacked.
He ran those sexy eyes up and down my even more wrinkled pant suit, my ponytail
which now sported quite a few fly-aways, and my Wal-Mart special heels.  He
produced an amused smirk as his eyes swept over my now coffee stained resumes.

 "Madame, I
bid you good luck on your journey for employment but your financial assistance
will not be necessary." Instead of waiting for a reply he spun around and
left me standing in the street. I didn't know if I should be offended or
thankful that he didn't demand compensation for his clothes. Thank God, because
my car would be where I slept if I had to pay for that outfit.

I managed to leave
my remaining resumes at most of the businesses on my list including the
library, another cafe, even a law office for yet another secretarial position
because we all know that a lawyer I will never be. Finally, I made my way to
Antiques and Oddities. I tried to smooth out as many of the wrinkles in my
clothes as possible and redid my ponytail. I needed to make a good impression.
With a smile plastered on my face, I entered to the sound of a bell tinkling
overhead. At the counter a man sat hunched over, concentrating on papers laid
out in front of him.

"I will be
with you in a moment." His dark formal voice pinged against something
familiar inside of me. I took in the smell of cherry wood cabinets and shelves,
Victorian era furniture, statues, and rugs that seemed older than time. Bottles
and bobbles sat on the shelves and hand painted art hung along the walls. The
shop was immaculate; absent of anything that could take from the beauty of its
contents. The store felt alive and singing with energy. I shivered with the odd
sensation that this place gave me. I placed my resume on the edge of the
counter as to not disturb the man while he worked; but once again I was stuck
staring into husky blue eyes that gave off such menace that my breath caught in
my chest. The attention was short lived before he continued with his studies of
the pages in front of him. I edged my resume closer to him refusing to take his
dismissal.

"Excuse me
sir, but I see you have an opening and I thought I may be of some
assistance." Politeness oozed from my introduction. If I wanted this job I
could at least try to kiss up to my maybe boss, even if he was a serious
pompous ass.

“No." The
dismissal rang hard in that one single word.

 "The
position has been filled?" I tried for curiosity even though my short
temper was being tested.

"No."
With another curt response I was quickly failing that test.

"Listen if
the…" 

"Madame, if
you do not have sense enough to simply navigate the streets of this small town
without incident, how can I trust that you are able to walk through my shop
without damaging antiques that cannot simply be dry cleaned?" Without even
pausing in his work I knew my dismissal was final.

I stomped out of
Antiques and Oddities while giving myself a mental ass chewing for not paying
more attention and simultaneously squelching the urge to go back in there and
throw one of those precious antiques at his head. But that would be childish
and my parents raised me better. Was he perfect? Had he never in his life had
an accident? He didn't even glance at my resume to be able to form any opinion
on what qualifications I had. Granted my resume wouldn't help his opinion, but
it was the principle of the matter. My resume—in my haste to get the hell out
of there I left my resume and my list of stops sitting on the counter. My anger
and embarrassment held me back from recovering what I had lost.

I was irritated
and hungry by the time I made it back to the Inn. Linda was working again
tonight. She greeted me with a smile that I was thankful for after my run-ins
with, hell, I didn't even know his name.

"Ms. Davis, I
have a message for you. A Mr. Jonathon Evans called from Shore Side Cafe."

With a warm thank
you I took my message and headed to my room. I didn't even have energy for a
shower. While waiting for my spaghetti and meatballs I decided to give Mr.
Evans a call back. A hard masculine voice answered after two rings.