AWAKENING BLOG TOUR+ GIVEAWAY
Awakening (The Dark Rituals #1)
by Catrina Burgess
Publisher: Full Fathom Five Digital
Release Date: October 7th 2015
by Catrina Burgess
Publisher: Full Fathom Five Digital
Release Date: October 7th 2015
Genre: Young Adult, Paranormal, Romance, Supernatural, Horror, Fiction, Fantasy
Rate: 4 STARS!!!
Rate: 4 STARS!!!
Synopsis:
In Awakening, the first installment in the Dark Rituals series, a former healer turns to the Death Arts to seek revenge.
Seventeen-year-old Colina was born a healer. But after a horrific event forces her to leave her clan, she becomes desperate to learn the dark magic of the death dealers, mages who draw their power from the spirits of the dead. Colina was taught to fear and hate death dealers, but becoming one of them is the only way for her to get the revenge she seeks—and the only way for her to survive.
Colina asks a young death dealer named Luke to help her, but he’s reluctant to train her in the Death Arts. Little does she know convincing him to teach her will be the easiest part of her journey. To become a death dealer, Colina will need to undergo three dark rituals, each more terrifying than the last. At the same time, she’ll have to deal with her growing feelings for her mentor. Too bad the first ritual involves him strangling her to death.
As Colina undergoes the trials, she discovers an untapped darkness within herself. If she survives the horrific rituals and gains dark power, what will she become?
Catrina Burgess’ Dark Rituals series originally appeared on Wattpad with over three million reads. Awakening is the first book of four and was named Wattpad’s Best Suspense Story of 2014.
Colina was an amiable character enough. She can barely hold herself together after her trauma but pushes all her doubts aside to get revenge. I can't say she was all-consumed by revenge because it was her initial motivation but then becoming a death dealer was also for her protection because she would never survive had she remained a healer...I really admired her strength and wariness of Luke at the beginning. She was reluctant to trust him and didn't just reveal all her secrets because he had a cute smile. At the end, she shows proof of an amazing spark of selflessness and i'm just so proud of her! You can actually feel Colina loose herself to the darkness more and more as she completed the rituals.
The pacing was pretty great-there was action for the most part and the ending was a big action-packed tense scene. The writing was good and plot wise the idea was awesome, from the beginning when she walks into Luke's shop till the very end! I think the author did a fantastic job at misleading the readers till the end when we finally realize the question was never about Colina's survival but something much bigger. The ending definitely left me wanting to know what happens in the second book, i have no clue how the author will turn that big cliffhanger around!
The rituals and the talk about spirits were actually pretty scary! The author described them so vividly i actually shivered sometimes! The idea of normal people hating the death trappers really added to the plot because it made us see that Colina was condemning herself to a life of solitude from society. Her clan of healers would also despise her but she was not willing to become part of the guild of the death dealers either...
My only objection to this book would be the lack of background. We talk about healers and death dealers but what about the humans? How did they become aware of these people with powers? How exactly do they have powers? Are there more people with different powers? What society do they live in? What world do they live in? These basic questions were always in my head. For me there was no background...
Other than that, it's easy to get swept into this intriguing story! I hope the next book answers all these question!
Colina is angry. After witnessing her family of healers being brutally murdered by a clan of Death Dealers, she is filled with a thirst for revenge. She decides to do the most despicable thing her kind could do-become a death dealer. She seeks out a death dealer and asks him t convert her but he refuses. However soon after he accepts, his little sister gets kidnapped by the same killers that killed Colina's family and turning Colina into a death dealer becomes a necessity to rescue his sister and protect herself. However to become a death dealer, Colina will have to die, allow herself to be possessed and go through a last ritual that will rob her of her humanity forever. From a blossoming romance with the death dealer to running for her life, Colina will have to discard her very essence as a healer and succumb to the lure of being a death dealer at the cost of losing herself completely...
Colina was an amiable character enough. She can barely hold herself together after her trauma but pushes all her doubts aside to get revenge. I can't say she was all-consumed by revenge because it was her initial motivation but then becoming a death dealer was also for her protection because she would never survive had she remained a healer...I really admired her strength and wariness of Luke at the beginning. She was reluctant to trust him and didn't just reveal all her secrets because he had a cute smile. At the end, she shows proof of an amazing spark of selflessness and i'm just so proud of her! You can actually feel Colina loose herself to the darkness more and more as she completed the rituals.
The pacing was pretty great-there was action for the most part and the ending was a big action-packed tense scene. The writing was good and plot wise the idea was awesome, from the beginning when she walks into Luke's shop till the very end! I think the author did a fantastic job at misleading the readers till the end when we finally realize the question was never about Colina's survival but something much bigger. The ending definitely left me wanting to know what happens in the second book, i have no clue how the author will turn that big cliffhanger around!
The rituals and the talk about spirits were actually pretty scary! The author described them so vividly i actually shivered sometimes! The idea of normal people hating the death trappers really added to the plot because it made us see that Colina was condemning herself to a life of solitude from society. Her clan of healers would also despise her but she was not willing to become part of the guild of the death dealers either...
My only objection to this book would be the lack of background. We talk about healers and death dealers but what about the humans? How did they become aware of these people with powers? How exactly do they have powers? Are there more people with different powers? What society do they live in? What world do they live in? These basic questions were always in my head. For me there was no background...
Other than that, it's easy to get swept into this intriguing story! I hope the next book answers all these question!
EXCERPT
Link: http://fullfathomfive.com/writers/catrina-burgess/awakening/excerpt-from-awakening-dark-rituals-1/
CHAPTER 1
“You want to learn the Death
Arts?”
The look on his face was
hard to read. It couldn’t be every day that someone wandered into the shop and
made such a request.
I tried to look more
confident than I felt. He couldn’t tell my hands were slightly trembling inside
my jacket pockets, could he? I forced myself to keep my gaze steady and
resisted the urge to take to my heels and run out the door.
My mama always said, You can
always ask. The worst they can do is say no. But I don’t think Mama was
thinking about revenge and murder when she dealt out that piece of homespun
advice.
He stood behind the counter
with a questioning look in his eyes. He looked about my age—seventeen—and had
shoulder-length blond hair. His black tank top sported a picture of a large red
phoenix surrounded by fire.
I couldn’t seem to get the
words out of my mouth, so I decided to look around the shop to buy me some
time. Every wall in the place housed a set of shelves, and scattered around the
room were waist-high, freestanding glass cases. Statues with menacing faces
stared back at me from between leather-bound books on shelves. Every flat
surface was crammed full of exquisite bottles filled with colorful liquids,
dried herbs, exotic feathers, and cloth pouches tied with ribbon.
Mixed in with these harmless-looking
objects were other things. Misshapen bottles filled with red liquid—probably
blood—from a human, goat, or pig…who could tell? In a dark corner, I could make
out the shapes of animal skulls. And something else. I leaned forward to get a
closer look. What were those small objects hanging from a wooden pole over in
the corner?
A chill ran down my back as
I realized they were shrunken heads.
This was a magic shop, dimly
lit, with items peering from the shadows where they hid. Some of them I’d only
seen in pictures, and at another time I would have been tempted to spend a lazy
afternoon exploring every nook and cranny in the place. But not today. I was
here with a single-minded purpose.
“I was told the owner of
this shop could teach me the Death Arts.”
“I’m sorry, someone’s
playing a joke on you. No one here can help you, not with something like that.”
I’d anticipated that my
request would be met with anger or disbelief, but he seemed almost indifferent.
Almost. Those dark eyes had a hint of wariness about them. He might act as
though everything was fine and dandy, but I had the impression that, at any
moment, I was going to get tossed out on my butt.
“Luke, you know who she
means.” A pretty girl with the longest hair I’d ever seen spoke from a doorway
behind the counter. Her hair was the color of sweet yellow corn and fell just
short of the ground.
“Darla, shut up.”
Darla looked a few years
younger than Luke. She had on a long, flowing blue skirt covered in yellow
flowers and a white bohemian shirt, the sleeves trimmed in blue lace.
“You’re looking for our
Uncle Franklin. He’s out of town.” She glared at Luke as she came out and took
her place next to him. “Ignore my brother. He’s worried you’re a Redeemer.”
Goddess, do I look like a
Redeemer? Everyone knew about the cult by now. They started up two years ago—a
group of non-mage born who hated all magic. Most members were innocent enough,
but there were fringe sects that not only reviled magic, but also sought out
anyone who practiced magic for the sole purpose of “cleansing” those offenders.
In the last month, five
people had been found drowned in local lakes, their hands and feet bound by
thick rope. Obviously this fringe sect of Redeemers—aka psychopaths—were
watching too much of the History Channel when they came up with that idea. They
believed anyone who was a witch would float and the innocent would drown. These
crazies proclaimed poor souls who drowned cleared of all charges. Little help
it did them, being dead and all.
A group of Redeemers did
take credit for the deaths, but not in any way law enforcement agencies could
track. The news reported that flyers proclaiming THE CLEANSING HAS BEGUN and
REDEEMERS WILL TAKE BACK OUR WORLD had appeared on various city streets.
How does someone prove they
aren’t a nut job on a religious cleansing mission? I tried to look as mentally
stable as possible and replied, “I’m not a Redeemer, I swear.” I was told that
you’re death dealers. From the Phoenix Guild.” I looked pointedly at his
T-shirt.
Darla laughed. “She’s got
you there,” She reached behind the counter, pulled out sticks of incense, and
held them up. “What do you think…?” She cocked her head to the side.
“Colina. My name’s Colina.”
Her lips split in a smile.
“Hello, Colina. I’m Darla Cross, and that’s Luke, my brother.” She waved the
incense sticks around. “Lavender or root beer?”
“Root beer.”
She grabbed a box of matches
from a nearby shelf, pulled one out, and struck it. The flame flickered wildly
before she lowered it and carefully lit one of the brown sticks. She held the
stick up to her mouth and blew out the flame at the tip. The smoke continued to
rise, curling up in swirls around her face.
“Root beer is my favorite.”
She smiled and placed the incense down into a carved wooden holder sitting on
the counter.
The sweet smell filled the
room. Darla pushed the wooden holder to the side and hopped up on the counter.
Once settled, she swept the mass of her hair over her right shoulder. It slid
down her body like a golden river.
I wondered how long it took
her to wash and dry such hair. It had to be heavy and, I’d think, very hot in
the summer. I watched, mesmerized as her nimble fingers divided the strands
into three large sections and she began to braid it.
“Your uncle… When will he be
back?”
Luke didn’t answer. He was
starting to look annoyed. I waited two beats, and when he still didn’t respond
I turned to his sister.
She looked up from her braid
and watched her brother for a few seconds before answering. “Not for at least
two weeks. He’s put us in charge of the store while he’s gone.”
I was desperate—there was no
way could I wait two weeks. Chances were if I didn’t get help soon, I’d be dead
in days, not weeks.
“Can you help me?” I
couldn’t keep my voice from trembling a bit.
This time Luke responded.
“Help you learn the Death Arts? So you can what? Take out your frustrations on
the world?” He turned to Darla. “I’m betting someone pissed her off. You ever
notice that it’s always the angry ones who think they can come and learn our
craft? Think they can be taught our art during a weekend course? Why not just
buy a gun? Oh, yeah, because guns don’t work on our kind.” He turned his
attention back to me. “If you don’t mind me asking, who’s this almighty enemy
who pissed you off? Ex-boyfriend? Some clerk at the local mini-mart?” His voice
was dripping with sarcasm.
My chin came up, and I
looked him straight in the eye when I answered. “I’m not asking you to train me
in the Death Arts so I can take out a busload of nuns.”
This proclamation brought a
half grin to his face. I wondered if he would take my request seriously. He was
looking me up and down. I wore no Goth clothing, no long black trench coat. I
wore the uniform of the middle class in my part of town: a striped white and
blue sweater covered by a dark sailor coat, a pair of faded blue jeans, and
black Vans.
I was beginning to regret
the coat. The moment I entered the store a wall of heat had hit me. It was
autumn outside, but someone inside liked to keep things toasty. Small beads of
sweat were forming on my forehead. I considered taking my coat off, but the
reception I was getting made me think I wouldn’t be staying long.
I tried not to wither under
his scrutiny. I knew what he saw standing in front of him—a seventeen-year-old
girl with dark brown hair pulled up into a ponytail. An average-looking girl.
I’m not the type to stop traffic. A chin and forehead that were a bit too
pronounced, thanks to my Scottish heritage. Blunt bangs fringed my forehead,
coming to rest above nondescript hazel eyes, and my build was more tomboyish
than Playboy Bunny. Nothing screamed, “Look at me!” I blended into a crowd, and
that was something I counted on.
“I can pay.” I pulled a wad
of bills out of my right jacket pocket. “I understand that you people prefer to
work in cash.”
The cash made him frown.
Worse, it made him move from behind the big glass counter faster than I could
have anticipated. I barely had a chance to take a step back before he reached
out and grabbed my arm.
“Who are you?”
He was much bigger up close.
I looked up and our eyes locked, and I suddenly lost the ability to speak. He’d
seemed amiable enough when I stepped into the shop, but now his whole body
language took on a more threatening vibe. Those dark eyes shone not with anger,
but with violence.
Normally a big, pissed-off
stranger manhandling me would have freaked me out, but I needed to be strong.
After what I went through—after the terrible things I dealt with—this guy
couldn’t scare me. I gave myself a mental shake. I was past being intimidated.
Fear left the building a few days ago when bullets were flying and bloody
bodies covered the floor.
I couldn’t think about that
now. I’d locked those images into the deepest, darkest corner of my mind, and
maybe one day I would deal with them, but not today. Today I was on a mission.
I didn’t have a lot to lose, and this guy might be the only one who could give
me what I needed most.
I pushed the money at his
chest with my free hand. “If this isn’t enough, name your price.”
His fingers curled around
the bills, and he let go of my arm and took a step back. “You’re serious about
this?”
“Yes. If you tell me no,
I’ll go find someone else.”
The only problem was that
there weren’t a lot of people willing to teach outside their guild, and we both
knew it.
“You think you can handle
learning the Death Arts?”
I wasn’t sure I could handle
it, but I wasn’t about to admit my doubt. I kept quiet and nodded.
“Luke, you can’t be serious.
You can’t teach her.” Darla had finished braiding her hair and her attention
was now on the two of us.
“Stay out of it, Darla!”
“There’s no way Uncle would
let you do it.” Her brown eyes blazing with anger, Darla jumped down from the
counter and rounded on him.
He took a step away from her
and turned to me. “Have you had any training?”
I lifted the sleeve of my
jacket and turned my forearm, revealing the small tattoo of a blue swallow
inked into the skin just above my palm.
“You’re a healer.” He
couldn’t have sounded more shocked.
I could feel tears starting
to form, but I forced them back. “I was.”
“You can’t learn the Death
Arts. Your people would never allow such a thing.” He frowned. He’d looked at
me first with ridicule, then amusement, and now he was watching me as though I
was some kind of puzzle he was trying to work out.
It was true. I’d taken a
sacred oath, and if anyone from my clan caught me learning the Death Arts, let
alone using them, I’d be punished, possibly imprisoned. I knew the risk, but I
didn’t care.
“Will you teach me?” I knew
he could hear the desperation in my voice. I felt it in the very core of my
being. My hands were visibly trembling. I’d done a pretty good job of keeping
it together until now, but hunger and exhaustion washed over me. I’d been on my
own, trying to deal with what happened, and it was suddenly all too much. If seeing
me fall apart in front of him was the only way to convince Luke of my
sincerity, then I didn’t care if he saw my fear and desperation. He was my last
hope. This was my only chance to stay alive. Maybe, if I lived long enough and
I got lucky, I would have a chance to take my revenge.
He didn’t answer right away.
Darla stood next to him, her eyes wide but her expression unreadable. She
watched us both in silence. As we stood there, the silence stretched on and on,
and all the while Luke’s unyielding dark eyes surveyed me. I had a feeling he
was trying to figure me out, trying to coax out my secrets. I wasn’t about to
make it easy. I pushed down the urge to shift from foot to foot while I waited
for an answer. When he finally broke the silence, I physically jumped.
“Come back tomorrow night
after midnight.” He pocketed the bills.
“The witching hour.” I said
the words through clenched teeth. It was not the response I was expecting. The
witching hour was a time when people slept and the world seemed tranquil, but
it was really more than that. It wasn’t truly tranquil and safe, not for people
like us. For those of us who knew better, it could be wild, chaotic, and
dangerous.
“Yes, the witching hour.” He
crossed his arms over his chest.
A shudder went through me.
What the heck am I getting myself into?
“There’s still time to
change your mind.” His voice was low.
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you? A healer? Yeah,
you’ve seen the life leave a person, watched their energy dissipate into the
ether sea. But have you ever called on that same energy? Ever felt its pulse
swirling and circling around you? It’s not for the faint of heart.”
What could I say? He was
right. I’d never called on spirits. Honestly, I only had an inkling of the type
of magic his guild used. I knew it was the strongest magic. If I was going to
survive—if I was going to exact my revenge—it was the magic I needed to learn
no matter the consequences. I had no choice but to head down this road. That
knowledge didn’t stop fear and panic from settling into the pit of my stomach.
I knew that, theoretically,
magic is magic, but healers and death dealers were on the opposite ends of the
spectrum. More powerful clans could do different types of magic, I’d heard, but
my clan had always been healers. In theory, I should be able to do the basics
of the Death Arts, even if I didn’t have the inborn talent to become a master
of them.
A phone rang before I could
reply. Luke made his way back around the counter, picked up the receiver, and
started talking.
I had gone looking for a
death dealer, with no leads other than a piece of paper with an address and a
brief description of the shop. I’d made it here in one piece and someone had
grudgingly agreed to teach me. It was a victory. A small one, but I’d take what
I could at this point.
I realized I was standing
there like an idiot, watching Luke talk on the phone when I should have been
hightailing it out of there. We’d completed our business. He might have
reservations, but he’d taken my money and agreed to teach me. I had no reason
to linger. If I hung around he might change his mind, yet here I was—staying
and staring.
Luke was good-looking, with
piercing, dark-gray eyes, dirty-blond hair, and a rugged jaw. He had broad
shoulders and a long scar ran down his left shoulder, the end of it lost
beneath his tank top. I wondered how far the scar traveled underneath the black
material, and immediately felt a heat rise inside me. My cheeks flushed, and
for a moment my heart pounded. I reminded myself that he was a death dealer, not
someone to be trusted. I didn’t know if all the rumors I had heard about his
kind were true, but I did know for sure that his kind were to be avoided. He
dealt in dark magic—magic that my people both feared and hated.
I realized in horror that
the phone conversation was over, and Luke was talking to me, but I had been so
caught up in my own thoughts that I had missed everything he said.
I felt another blush spread
across my cheeks. Like an idiot I mumbled, “Uh, what?”
“You can’t go back out in
the streets.” He looked dead serious.
“Who’s going to stop me?” I
regained my composure, but my voice was more than a bit defensive.
“The Triads. I just got a
call from a neighbor. The Triads are hanging out down the block.” He walked
around the counter until he stood in front of me. “You’ll have to stay here. At
least for a couple hours until the coast is clear.”
No way was I staying—I had
what I came for. It was time to leave. The Triads didn’t scare me. I was a
healer and even they had a code against harming a healer.
But I’m not a healer
anymore, I reminded myself. I was going to delve into the forbidden magics—I
would soon become someone on the fringe of society. No respectable people
mingled with the Phoenix Guild.
A wave of exhaustion
suddenly hit me. I grabbed the corner of the closest table to steady myself.
Making the decision to come here, surviving the last few days, convincing Luke
to take me on…it all had taken the energy out of me. The anger, the
desperation, the determination—everything suddenly evaporated.
“Are you okay?” Darla asked,
coming to my side.
The words came out in a
harsh whisper, “I’m fine. I skipped a couple meals.”
It had been at least three
days since food had entered my mouth. I had forced myself to drink, but every
time I tried to eat, the memories came and nausea set in.
“I just felt dizzy for a
second. There’s no need to make a fuss.” My voice sounded unbelievably weak
even to my own ears.
Darla bent down, and her
fingers grazed across my forehead. “She’s not okay. Luke, bring her upstairs.”
I began to slump and Luke
reached out and put an arm around my waist, supporting me.
I tried to pull myself out
of his grip, but he was extremely strong. “You can let me go, I’m okay.”
“Darla, lock up the shop.
With the Triads out there, best thing to do is lock up and sit tight until they
get bored and move on.” He ignored my protest and began to lead me behind the
counter and through the doorway into a small hallway. I felt like a helpless
rag doll in his arms as he moved us along the hall to the foot of a wooden
staircase.
“Since you can’t leave, you
might as well come upstairs. We haven’t had a chance to eat. We can get some
food into you. Can you make it up the stairs?” The harshness had gone from his
voice. He sounded almost kind.
“I’m fine, I just need to—”
I couldn’t finish the sentence as the world around me started to fade away.
“Hey, don’t pass out.” He
leaned down and lifted me into his arms. He carried me up the stairs and
delivered me across a large room onto a brown couch sitting against a bright,
red-painted wall.
I needed a moment to catch
my breath and gather my strength. Showing so much weakness in front of
strangers embarrassed me. I had been an idiot to go so long without food.
Sleeping was also something I was not doing a lot of lately. Every time I
closed my eyes, nightmares rushed in. It wasn’t surprising that my body
suddenly rebelled and gave way. I told myself I would lie here for a minute or
two, catch my breath, and then head out.
Suddenly Luke was standing
over me. He had a bottle of soda in one hand and two plastic cups in the other.
He handed them over to me. “We’ve got some cheese and salami in the fridge.
Darla picked up some fresh bread at the local bakery this morning.”
What choice did I have? If I
kept going this way, I’d end up passed out on the streets.
I looked up at him and
forced a smile. “Thanks for the dinner invite. I accept.”
* * *
The food was good. I ate
until I couldn’t take another bite. I leaned back against the leather couch
cushions, my coat draped next to me, and relaxed for the first time in what
seemed like a lifetime.
My gaze kept going to Luke.
There was little resemblance to the imposing figure I had dealt with down in
the storefront; the Luke upstairs was relaxed. He hadn’t said much while we ate,
and now he sat back in his chair, finishing a bite of bread.
Every time I glanced his way
he was looking at me, his stare openly inquisitive.
He was not what I had
expected. He didn’t hide like the rest of the members of his guild. He was
wearing a phoenix on his T-shirt for Goddess’s sake. This was not a guy trying
to keep to the shadows—this was a guy living openly in a society that deeply
despised his kind. Did he feel alienated? Did he have friends outside his
guild?
And what about his sister,
Darla? I wondered if she practiced the arts. She sat quietly, finishing off her
meal. It was hard to tell if someone possessed magic just by looking at them.
Was she also a death dealer? Would the Phoenix Guild initiate someone so young?
I wondered how different her
life was from mine. I had become a healer like my mother and her mother before
her. The path to becoming a healer started at fifteen, but at that age I had
only learned the basics about plants and medicine. Mama hadn’t allowed me to
delve into the magics that went along with healing until I hit my seventeenth
birthday. My training started three months ago and, in that time, I’d learned
as much as I could as fast as I could.
No other career choice had
ever entered my mind. It had been assumed that I would follow in my family’s
footsteps and, honestly, I didn’t have any regrets. I loved working with
plants, being out in the sunshine, my hands pushed into the dirt of Mother
Earth. Growing fragile things with care and love, creating medicines to heal the
sick, mixing potions, learning the craft that had been passed down through the
generations—there was no part of being a healer that didn’t make my heart swell
with joy and make me leap out of bed every morning full of excitement. The
world once seemed a place of endless possibilities.
But all of that was now
behind me. The path before me was full of shadows and darkness. I was going to
become a death dealer, and I didn’t have the faintest idea what kind of lives
they led.
I took a good look at my
surroundings. I was in a studio apartment, but the space was enormous. A
well-outfitted kitchen with granite counters and cherry cabinets stood at one
side of the room. The middle area had been arranged as a living room and
office. The couch I was on sat against the wall on a large, patterned rug
surrounded by two oversized chairs. To the right of the couch in front of a row
of tall windows stood a desk with a laptop computer and printer. Next to the
desk was a small row of black metal cabinets. On the other side of the room
were three large partitions—walls that didn’t quite make it all the way up to
the ceiling. Bedrooms, I imagined.
“This is a nice place.” It
was an expensive place. Every piece of furniture, every knickknack, screamed
money.
“It’s our uncle’s.” Luke
leaned forward and put his plate down on the old blue steamer trunk serving as
a table for our meal. “Are you going to tell us what brought you here?”
“Good food, terrific
soda—what’s not to like?” My answer brought a scowl to his face, but I wasn’t
intimidated. I was paying for his services—I wasn’t about to fill him in on the
details of my life. “My understanding is that your type of work comes with a
certain assurance of anonymity. Like when you pay a shrink or a lawyer.”
“Client confidentiality.” He
leaned back in his chair and took on a thoughtful expression.
“Exactly.” I poured myself
another glass of soda.
He watched me in silence for
a few moments. “I would like to know who pointed you to our doorstep.”
Again with the questions.
“Someone who wishes to
remain anonymous,” I answered cautiously. Luke could keep asking questions, and
I would keep being evasive. This might be a long couple of hours.
“A lot of people know the
type of work we do, but most of them, I’d imagine, don’t run in the same social
circles as someone like you.”
The way he said “social
circles” made it clear it wasn’t a compliment.
“And what would you know
about the social circles I run in?”
Luke took his time
answering, his eyes scanning slowly over my appearance. “I haven’t seen you in
this part of town before. If I had to guess, I would figure you for a Middleton
gal.”
Middleton—a quiet, sleepy
suburb about thirty minutes from the city. He wasn’t wrong. I’d lived on the
outskirts of Middleton most of my life.
“Let me guess: your father’s
a plumber and your mother’s a school teacher.”
Actually, he couldn’t have
been further off the mark. I forced a smile onto my face. “Do you do fortunes?
Are you going to tell me my horoscope next?”
“Not something I normally
dabble in, but I could if you wanted me to.” His eyes focused on me in a way I
found disconcerting.
Darla spoke up, “Luke, stop
being so rude.”
“Why? What’s she trying to
hide?” Luke looked over at Darla, an amused expression on his face. “Does she
have top government secrets hidden away in the recesses of her mind?” He didn’t
wait for an answer, but instead got up from his chair and started clearing away
the dishes.
“I’m the private ‘no
trespassing’ type. Let’s leave it at that,” I answered quietly to his
retreating back. “What’s with all the questions?”
He spun around so fast my
breath hitched in the back of my throat. He put the dishes down none too
gently, and they rattled loudly as they hit the surface of the trunk. “What’re
you really doing here?”
I closed my hands around my
now-empty plastic cup, crushing it before taking a deep breath and relaxing my
grip. This guy would not scare me off. I had food in my stomach and was feeling
less shaky. I needed his help, and it would be best if I could get him to see
me as strong and capable first.
I took a deliberately long
pause before answering. “Paying you a lot of money.”
He took a step toward me.
“To learn the Death Arts?”
I could almost feel the wave
of violence and intimidation wash over him. He clenched his fists and towered
over me menacingly. Here I was in this stranger’s apartment. No one knew where
I was. At any moment, Luke could decide I was not worth the hassle and—what?
Kill me? He already had my money. I‘d paid him the money upfront like an idiot.
I had heard stories about his kind—most of them seemed outlandish, but I knew
there was truth buried within the tall tales. Anger I could handle, but not
violence, not now, not after what had happened. At the very thought of it, my
stomach clenched and my mouth trembled.
I looked over at Darla. She
was watching us, her expression sullen. So far she’d shown me only kindness.
She wouldn’t let Luke hurt me, I was almost certain of it.
He glared down at me, and I
tried to look confident and fearless, but I didn’t trust my voice not to betray
me, so I nodded.
“Why did you come here? Why
are you so desperate to learn the dark magics?”
I forced myself to sit up. I
used to have a backbone, and if there was ever a time to show it, it was now. I
wouldn’t tremble like a scared rabbit in front of this guy anymore. I could
feel the anger growing within me. I tried to hold on to the feeling, will it
along, forcing the flames of it to warm my blood and fuel my words.
“Why does it matter? I need
to learn, and a friend told me that I could find someone here who would teach
me!”
My reaction didn’t seem to
surprise him. He’d been pushing, and I’d finally pushed back.
The anger abandoned me as
suddenly as it had come. “Look, you guys seem pretty open about what you do.
The shop even has a phoenix on its sign. It’s not like you’re hiding who you
are.”
“I’m not ashamed of what I
am.”
“A lot of people don’t share
that view.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you
one of them?”
I slumped back against the
pillows. “I’m the live-and-let-live type.”
His face softened, and he
took a step back. “A healer.”
“I told you I was.” I was so
tired, so sick of all the questions. All I wanted to do was go somewhere safe,
somewhere I could try and get some rest.
“But not now?”
Why did he keep pushing?
When I put down the crushed cup, my hands were openly trembling again. “Not
anymore.”
“I’ve never heard of one of
your kind walking away from the calling.” His voice was softer now, less
demanding.
I was anxious to change the
subject. “You said the Triads are out in the streets causing havoc. Do they do
that a lot?” I knew the Triads were one of the largest street gangs in the
city. They were mostly mage-born, many of them vicious human beings. Part mage
and a whole lot of natural-born killer types—a deadly combination any way you
looked at it.
“Recently more than usual.”
“So it’s not safe for me out
there?”
“No.”
Those dark eyes were
watching me. Once again, I felt like a puzzle he was trying to work out.
“I could pay you to be my
bodyguard and escort me home.”
He shook his head. “It’s not
safe for even the likes of me out there these days.”
Now that was something. I
had never heard of a death dealer being afraid of anything. They were what I
considered the top of the magic food chain—the hardest of the mage-born to
kill.
“And you’re proposing what?
I should bunk down here tonight?”
“It’s getting late. The
streets are dangerous, and you don’t look like you’re up to fighting off
trouble at the moment.” He did a sweeping gesture with his arm that took in his
sister. “We are offering a place of refuge.”
Darla got up, walked over,
sat down next to me, and patted my hand as if trying to offer some kind of
comfort. “We’re about the same size. I have some sweatpants and a T-shirt I
could lend you. Luke’s right, it’s not safe out there. You should stay with
us.”
It had been a long time
since anyone had offered to help me. I wanted to say no, but it would be
foolish to go out and risk my life.
I moved my hand away but
gave her a smile so she wouldn’t be offended. “I’ll take you up on the clothes,
but what I could go for right now is a hot shower.”
She pointed across the room.
“The bathroom’s over there. You can find clean towels in the cupboard.”
I walked over and opened the
bathroom door. The tub was an old-fashioned one. It had a metal circle at the top
that held a white and black polka dot shower curtain. A handheld showerhead
hung from a long, retractable metal coil.
I slumped down on the side
of the bathtub and wondered if I had the energy to take a shower. A pile of
clean clothes sat on the toilet seat. The hot water would feel good against my
skin. It might clean away the dirt, but what about the guilt? Could it wash
that away?
I forced my body up and got
undressed. If I had any sense I would get the heck out of here, but I knew I
couldn’t. Not yet—not until I got what I needed. I looked in the mirror and
shook down my hair. Now free, it came to rest at my shoulders in waves. I
turned away from the mirror and stepped into the bathtub. I reached for the
showerhead and held it over my head with one hand as I turned the knobs with
the other. The hot water felt amazing as I sprayed back and forth across my
body. When I finally got out, I rummaged through cabinet drawers until I came
across a towel and a boar hairbrush. I dried myself, and then took my time
brushing my hair. When I was done, I changed into my borrowed clothes.
Darla was wrong: we weren’t
the same size. She might be younger than I was, but she had a lot more curves.
Everything was a bit too large. I tied the bottom of the white T-shirt into a
knot and pulled the drawstring on the gray sweatpants tight. For some reason, I
felt more vulnerable when I came out, even though I was fully clothed. I
realized it was because I was wearing someone else’s clothes.
I was in a strange place,
with people I’d just met, and I was about to bunk down like a guest. An
unwelcome guest. Even though he said I should stay, Luke did not have a
welcoming expression as I came out of the bathroom.
“You were in there a while.”
He was standing against the row of windows. He looked even bigger than I
remembered. Was it possible that he’d grown five inches since I stepped into
the bathroom? Impossible. It was just the play of shadows against his body.
“Sorry, did you want to take
one? I didn’t mean to hog all the hot water.”
“I usually take my showers
in the morning.”
I was having a hard time
keeping my eyes off him. He’d changed and currently sported no shirt and a pair
of black sweatpants. His broad shoulders tapered down to a very cut stomach.
Suddenly an image of him dripping wet, stepping out of the bathtub, flashed
across my mind. I couldn’t help it—I blushed, and like an idiot, the only thing
I could think of to say was, “Oh, okay.”
“Darla put an extra blanket
on the back of the couch in case you get cold.”
“Thanks. Where is she?”
He gestured toward one of
the partitioned sections. “She went to bed.”
I stood there feeling like a
moron, not sure what to say next.
He pointed to the couch.
“The sheets are fresh, but the pillow is a bit lumpy. We aren’t set up for
houseguests. I’ll leave the light on in the bathroom and the door ajar, that
way you’ll have a bit of light in the room if you get up in the night.”
“I doubt I will. I’m a
pretty sound sleeper.” It wasn’t a lie…not really. I used to be a sound sleeper
until the nightmares set in. Chances were I would wake up in a cold sweat,
trembling from head to toe. I desperately hoped I wouldn’t wake up screaming at
the top of my lungs.
I gave him a smile and moved
past him to the couch.
He walked across the room
and flipped off the overhead lights.
I settled under the covers
and watched the shadows from the window play against the ceiling. “Thanks again
for the food, the shower, and the place to crash.”
Luke stopped, but didn’t
turn around. “No problem.”
“I like your place. It’s—comfortable.”
“I’m glad you approve.” His
voice sounded amused.
“Good night.” And as I said
the words, I swear I heard my brother’s voice whisper in my ears, “And don’t
let the bed bugs bite,” but it had to be my imagination. Lack of sleep was
starting to affect my ability to function. A good night’s sleep and I’d be
stronger tomorrow—and maybe ready to take on whatever challenges came my way.
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I write because it helps keeps the darkness away and reminds me that there is magic in the world. I live with one husband, two dogs, and a cat named Shitty Kitty in a small mining town in Arizona. At night this place is definitely spooky. I swear I’ve heard the wind giggle, and sometimes there’s a very odd breeze. Luckily, I love all things that go bump in the night. I adore old movies. I’m a huge Joss Whedon fan.
I’ve been known to eat pizza and cold Chinese food for breakfast, and I’m the queen of the board game Stratego. I’ve never been beaten. NEVER!
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