Aconite (The Elektita Series Book 1) (7 page)

CHAPTER NINE

 

 

 

"Maybe we
should talk while we walk," she suggested.

Without words I
could only nod in answer. I took my bag and slung it on my shoulder as we began
our walk, leaving my car behind.

"Where is
your car?" I asked realizing that my car sat alone in the lot.

"I
walked." Of course she did. It seemed like everyone in this town walked
most days. We walked in silence. An awkward tension began to build. Even the
night’s call couldn't sooth the unrest that had trapped itself in my mind.

 "I think I'm
going crazy," I finally blurted breaking the silence.

"Well, if mad
artistic talent comes with going crazy then take me with you," she said
laughing.

"I'm serious!
You saw my tattoo....it glows." I couldn't handle any more joking when I
felt like dying inside.

"I thought
you said that had stopped?" Worry seeped into each word. She was nervous.
We kept our pace even though neither of us had decided where it was we were
going.

"That's why I
went to the cafe early to find you." I stopped to face Jo hoping she heard
just how crazy I sounded. But she looked more fascinated then shocked by the
definite crazy that was this conversation.

"Is it still
glowing?" she asked, craning her neck trying to catch a glimpse of any
sign of the weird tattoo.

"No it's not;
that is what's odd. After I finished painting I realized that it was just a
normal tattoo again."

"How is that
odd? Wouldn't that make you happy?" She seemed puzzled now. How would any
of this make me happy? I wanted to scream at her but I needed someone I could
talk to.

"Maybe normal
is only temporary? What if I wake up after another dream with the horrid
glowing pain again?" I shot out belatedly realizing I had given too much
information.

"Wait, what
dreams?" Her voice spiked an octave with the new tidbit of information. I
mentally kicked myself for letting it slip. But I knew with her interest piqued
there was no getting out of telling her now.

I didn't know
where to begin or what to even say so I let silence fall over us instead. The
anticipation that rolled off Jo was palpable. I knew I couldn't ignore her much
longer, taking a deep breath I began my tale of how my life had gone absolutely
bonkers. Her walk turned jittery while listening to the details of my dreams. A
fierce wave of protection slammed into me causing me to omit the part where the
two men were Sebastian and Jonathon. I made them out to be faceless men as all
the other details came spilling out. Relief and exhilaration overwhelmed me at
finally being able to tell someone. Maybe now I could get confirmation of my
insanity and check into to the nearest insane asylum. But through the whole
walk Jo just listened. I kept my gaze averted. I didn't want to see what she
thought of me written all over her face.

We turned onto
Highland Street putting Antiques and Oddities squarely in our path.

"Do you know
the owner of that shop?" I interrupted myself pointing at Sebastian's
shop. Jo's high pitched squeak came in answer.

"I take that
as a yes." She must know something about the feud that was plain between
him and Jonathon. After all she had worked with him for years

"What is the
deal with those two, anyways?" It would be nice to talk of someone else's
problems for a change.

"I don't know
what you are talking about." Her answer was hurried and definitely a lie.

"Well, do you
mind if we stop by so I can thank him for the gift I received?" I knew she
would mind by her reaction but curiosity got the better of me and I headed
straight to the front door of his shop.

"What
gift?" she asked, trying to keep up with me. I chose to ignore her. I had
already given away too much and something in my gut told me to keep the gift a
secret.

"You can't go
in there!" Her panic was clear as I reached the front door of the store.

"Why?"
She would have to have a damn good reason for me not walking through that door.
A boss was one thing, a guardian was another.

"Jonathon
won't like it." Her answer wasn't good enough. I didn't care at this point
if he would like it or not. I had questions for Sebastian anyway. Her eyes held
tightly to unshed tears begging for me to listen and walk away.

"Screw
Jonathon! He’s my boss, not my god damned keeper," I bellowed, bypassing
Jo who had stepped in front of me.

She hesitated for
a moment before stepping out of my way. I could hear her mumbling profanities
under her breath and swearing that this was the worst idea ever. I wanted to
promise that if she gave me a damn good reason I wouldn't go in but the words
wouldn't come out. The lights in the shop were on but the front door was
locked. Undeterred, I began banging on the door. If someone was inside I'm sure
they thought I was being chased by a masked murderer. I could see a man much
shorter than Sebastian make his way up from the back of the shop. He opened the
door almost expectantly.

"Sorry, we're
closed." He purred, stepping back letting me in anyway.

"Where is
he?" I demanded, the man’s wolfish grin faltered by a fraction when he
caught sight of Jo as she followed me in. His hazel eyes swept over her in
disgust. Realization stopped me in my search. He was the man at the front desk
this morning.

 A throaty laugh
burst out of him when I stopped my search to gape at the far too familiar face.

"What the
hell?" was all I could manage to get out.

Jo's large green
eyes darted back and forth between us, clearly not understanding the sudden
turn of events. That would make two of us, I thought.

"Shouldn't
that be my line? You are the one that just barged in here demanding answers
when none were deserved." He stood lounging against a bookshelf, hazel
eyes assessing my paint splattered clothes. In my haste I had forgotten to
change back into my normal attire.

"Where is
he?" I stupidly repeated. I chose to ignore what I couldn't process.

"If you are
referring to Mr. Gates he is away on business. I told him I would look after
the shop. Is there something I can do for you ladies?" He asked pulling
himself away from the shelf, closing the distance.

"We should
really be going then," Jo whispered as she tugged on my sleeve.

The look the man
shot her pissed me off. Jo was hiding something, but she was still the closest
thing to a friend I had.

"No. I'm not
leaving here ‘till someone tells me what the hell is going on!" This could
not be a coincidence. I rounded on the mystery man that now stood in my
personal space.

"Yes there is
something that you can do for me. You can tell me who you are and why you were
at the Inn this morning." I retorted, slamming my finger into his chest.

Jo sucked in a
shocked breath. Okay, so ignoring it wasn't working so well.

"He was at
the Inn this morning?" she stammered, shock taking over her features. She
stepped back causing a statue to sway from side to side.

"I'm sorry,
Alexis, but I have to go." She all but threw at me as she turned and
bolted out of the store. I glared at the mystery man, tapping my foot in
frustration with this whole week. Everyone knew something except me and I would
stand here until he gave that information up.

He glared back
with equal stubbornness. We both seemed to be waiting, but I knew with complete
surety that whatever he wanted he was definitely not getting it.

"I'm
Richland, but you can call me Rich; everyone else does." A name, well at
least that was something to start with.

"Well....Richland.
Why were you at the Inn this morning?" I couldn't call him Rich. Something
about it didn't feel right. His cocky demeanor wavered just a fraction.

"Sebastian
asked me to keep an eye on you," he said quickly, regaining his stubborn
glare. The idea that Sebastian was now having me watched instead of following
me home or showing up at my work caused a low growl to escape from between my
lips. Chills ran along my spine. Never in my life had I been so angry.
Richland's eyes narrowed with shared anger.

"Why?"
The bass in my voice caused him to flinch. His anger paled in comparison to
mine.

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

 

"It's
true," he breathed, ignoring the vehemence in my question.

"What's
true?" I ground out. My patience was growing thin. I balled my hands into
fists at my sides. I wanted him to ignore me one more time. The urge to hit him
was far too overwhelming to ignore. Never in my life had I struck someone else
but never in my life have I been so completely consumed with rage. He blatantly
ignored my visual warning and ran his hand through my already loose pony tail;
releasing it from the band so it could flow around my face. His touch felt
familiar. It felt like something I had been missing for far too long. The
feeling wasn't lust or want–it was something much deeper.

"So different
but still the same." His declaration sounded startled.

I held onto the
ghost of his touch long after his hand had dropped back to his side. The
feeling of home rang through my mind atop everything else. My anger momentarily
put on ice.

"Who am
I?" My echoed question came out as a whisper. This time though it felt
more out of longing than desperation. I stared into his eyes for what seemed
like forever, watching them dart back and forth. Richland knew something. I
could see it in his eyes that were so much like mine. That must be why he
seemed so familiar. We shared the same color eyes.

 My backpack
vibrated, startling me.

I fished the phone
out of my bag. "Yes?" I clipped out after practically smacking myself
with the phone.

"I see you
figured out how to answer your cell phone." The smooth voice on the other
end slid along my skin like butter. I watched Richland's hazel eyes grow round
with realization before he slid back into the nonchalance that he wore like a
coat. Jonathon sounded much more like himself. He had flipped like a coin to
the side that was more normal. But I didn't play those types of games. I needed
answers and right now Richland was my top priority.

"Is the cafe
still standing?" My irritation was overriding my common sense. None of my
emotions seemed to work properly when it came to him. "Does this call have
anything to do with work?" I continued without giving him time to
interject.

"We need to
talk." The sadness behind that statement caught me off guard for a moment
before quickly correcting myself.

"Did Jo run
and tattle on me?" I heard myself snap. I felt disconnected to him and
whatever he needed to tell me. Maybe he called to fire me for breaking some
golden rule I knew absolutely nothing about. Richland studied me, astonishment
clear on his face. I stared into Richland's eyes that were so much like mine.
The more I searched them the more I felt as though I was staring into a mirror.
He was short for a man, closer to my own height. I wasn't used to men that were
eye level with me, but Richland wore his short stature well. Something paced
along my memories like a trapped animal that pined for her freedom. A loud
agitated voice against my ear yanked me from my assessment.

"Huh?" I
blurted clearly distracted by my own mind.

"I'm sorry,
was I interrupting something?" His anger was clear in his tone.

"Actually,
you were. When we are done I'll be sure to call you back so we can have that
talk." I smiled in satisfaction at the implications in my open ended
response.

"You have an
hour," Jonathon ground into the phone. The beep that followed let me know
that it was a demand not a request.

"An
hour," I mumbled under my breath. Who did he think he was, my dad?

Richland's laugh
was unexpected. He was bent over holding his gut from the sheer hysteria. I let
him have his fun as I worked to suppress my mounting irritation.

"It's about
damn time!" He chuckled.

At this point my
urge to punch him was so strong I had to use my other hand to stop myself mid
swing. So instead I stepped forward and shoved him so hard he flew back into a
cream Victorian sofa with intricate beading in the pillows. It tipped back with
an audible crack. Me, being allergic to exercise, could not have possibly been
strong enough to cause that. Thank God the sofa righted itself instead of crashing
into other merchandise. The gasp from my victim let me know he was just as
surprised as I was.

"New and
improved I see," he said, adjusting himself on the couch like he had meant
to sit down instead. The DO NOT SIT ON MERCHANDISE sign above was of no concern.

"Now, where
were we?" I didn't want to let on that I was just as surprised as he was.

Acting wasn't my
strong suit but I could fake it for a little while. I hoped anyway. Maybe if he
thought I was a bad ass it would be easier to get answers out of him.
Richland's eyes lit with amusement.

"Alexis, you
may be different but not that different," he sputtered through suppressed
laughter.

"Well, do
enlighten me on my many differences." I had absolutely no freaking clue
what he was talking about. Maybe now he would give me some answers.

"Can't do
that, but I can take you to dinner," he offered, popping off the couch.
The wolfish grin that dawned his handsome face held promises I didn't want to
accept.

"Sorry, but I
think I will eat alone. Another mystery man is not what I need right about
now."

His snort was loud
and exaggerated.

"Now, ain't
that the truth. Are you coming?" he called back strolling towards the
door.

 What other choice
did I have? I could eat alone and go back to my room to ponder what in the hell
was going on, or I could get a free meal with someone who could possibly give
me some answers. So I followed him out to the parking lot. A dark blue BMW
stood out like a sore thumb. I stood unable to do anything but stare at yet
another car that probably cost more than I would ever see in a lifetime at the
rate I was going. I didn't remember seeing the car out front before. I gave
Richland a questioning look and got a wink in answer. Like a gentleman he
opened the passenger side door, letting me slide in. The new car smell was sexy
and the low purr of the engine when he started her up was simply amazing. If I
ever won the lottery I was definitely buying one of these. Techno music quickly
drowned out the sound that made this car simply heaven. I mentally sent out a
promise to my poor neglected Bug that I would clean her up the first chance I
had. The smell of Chinese food that permeated her cloth seats would have to go.

Richland drove it
like a sports car, squealing out of the parking lot. I wasn't the poster child
for driver safety but his driving warranted a seatbelt. The thumping of music
grew louder each time I tried to yell out a question. He was avoiding the
questions he knew were coming. So I watched as scenery rushed by us like a
movie on fast forward as we escaped town at speeds that should have gotten us
pulled over. Houses and business morphed into dense trees as we made it farther
and farther from the small town. I wanted to turn down the volume, but it was
no use. I would only end up cursing that little volume button on the steering
wheel. We had ventured into a sound war. I could kick myself for even getting
into this car. The sleek upholstery couldn't even rectify this situation. My
mother would be so disappointed in me right now.

I tore my eyes
from the scenery to glare at Richland since that was the only other option I
had. Maybe I could convey how I felt with my eyes.

"What the
hell?" I shrieked at him.

He was already
staring at me. Richland slammed on his brakes careening us sideways. My head
wrenched sideways, barely stopping before making contact with the glass. Cracks
and pops rode up my spine, blurring my vision just for a few moments. I felt an
instant migraine begin to form at the base of my skull.

"What? What
happened?" he screamed back just as dazed as myself. I took a moment to
check myself over and make sure that some other driver wasn't about to slam
right into us. Luckily we were alone on the road.

"What
happened?" I mocked. "You could have killed us! You need to pay
attention to where you are going."

"That's it? I
thought you saw Bigfoot or El Chupacabra or something cool like that." His
jokes were not amusing.

I watched as he
scanned his surroundings but unlike myself I'm sure he was searching for
monsters that didn't exist. Maybe the longer you stayed in this town the
crazier you became. That did not bode well for me if that was the case. When
Richland seemed content with the fact that there were no mythical monsters
chasing us down, he slowly pressed on the gas, resuming our trip to who knows
where.

"Your clothes
were the reason that I was staring at you so," he confessed. "Do you
need a change of clothes?" For the second time tonight I had forgotten
that I still sported paint splattered clothes and Dutch Boy highlights.

"I actually
have a change of clothing in my bag." He seemed visibly relieved by that
fact. I wouldn't want to take me into a restaurant looking like this either.
His expensive taste in cars led me to believe he had the same taste in food.

"Where are we
going?" I took the reprieve in deafening music to get in a question or
two.

Surprisingly, he
didn't crank it back up. My question must have flown under the no answer radar.

"That is a
surprise. But there is a Chevron station up ahead. You can change there," he
said flashing me a quick smile before returning his eyes to the road. I really
hated surprises.

 Finally alone in
the bathroom, I changed out of my paint splattered clothing and changed into my
lavender sweater, skinny jeans, and wrap around heels. I scrubbed my face with
warm water. It felt surprisingly good to figuratively wipe away some of today’s
pain. I ran a comb through my hair before redoing my ponytail. I couldn't get
the paint out of it until I could have a proper shower so he would just have to
deal with it. I even went as far as applying some base and lip gloss. When I
headed back to the car Richland was already standing at the opened passenger
side door. I couldn't help but giggle out loud.

The mental image
of him hopping out of his car as soon as I entered the bathroom to stand
waiting just crossed me as hilarious.

"What decade
did you fall out of?"

Richland's mouth
opened and closed pondering his response. It was meant as a figure of speech
but he seemed to be taking it as much more.

"What? Men
don't have manners where you come from?" he said, skirting around whatever
knee jerk response he was avoiding.

I took the lack of
music as a good sign. Maybe he wasn't so anti-conversation after all.

"So…Why were
you sent to be my babysitter?" I was hesitant at first but let the rest of
my question fall out in a rush. I couldn't chance the music coming back to life
before I could get it all out.

"Babysitter
my ass," he grumbled, rubbing a spot on the back of his head.

"Okay then,
how would you describe it?"

"I'd say I
was there more as an investigator."

Why would I need
an investigator? A rock is more interesting than me.

"What is his
interest with me?" I had a feeling I had gained my very first stalker. But
Richland's laugh was bitter, void of any humor.

"If only it
was pure interest." His voice came so low I wasn't truly sure what he had
said. But panic set in anyway. Christ, what did I walk into?

"Okay, just
stop with the cryptic mumbo jumbo! I just wish someone would tell me what the
hell is wrong with me?" Fear and frustration had my voice cracking with
unshed tears.

"I cannot
tell you a thing, Alexis. In fact I have told you too much already."

For the first time
since we met his voice was filled with pity. I had enough self-pity, I did not
need it from someone I barely knew. This ride was supposed to glean some sort
of answers. Answers that I knew he had. I couldn't deal with this right now.
Suddenly, pain shot through my chest as stars formed across my line of sight. I
couldn't take any more avoidance.

"Stop the
damn car! I think I’ll walk from here." Even though here was in the middle
of nowhere. I would take my chances. If all else failed I had a cell phone. I
could call information and get a taxi. Surely they had taxis here. I couldn't
recall seeing one but none the less I couldn't stay in this car any longer. But
the car didn't slow, and the music regained its tireless beat.

"Stop. The.
Car." Each word came out louder than the last.

Silence, the music
died and the BMW came to a rolling halt. Everything ceased to work. We sat in
pitch darkness. Richland swore under his breath and slammed his fists into the
steering wheel. The locks clicked before I had time to open my door.

"You are not
getting out." His voice was low and angry. My tattoo and the pain that
accompanied it flared to life giving birth to my anger that overrode any sense
of danger.

"Then what
was the point of stopping the car?"

"I
didn't!" He glared at my chest. The pain thrummed harder as realization
came over me.

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