Burning Emerald (2 page)

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Authors: Jaime Reed

BOOK: Burning Emerald
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I only knew that this was a warning of some sort, a whisper too faint too make out the words.
2
D
espite everything that had changed in my life, things stayed the same at Buncha Books, much like how cartoon characters never aged or changed clothes. I found it refreshing.
Fusion jazz pumped through the speakers. A group of girls giggled and read steamy paperbacks from the erotica section. Young entrepreneurs hovered over their laptops, abusing the free Wi-Fi the store provided. Old men who had mistaken the bookstore for a rest home hogged all the sofas while reading the newspaper. Yep, business as usual at Buncha Books, set under a thick aroma of fresh cookies and hot espresso.
Alicia Holloway was on duty with me at the café, perky and animated as ever, which put a damper on my afternoon. Her elfin face, hopeful brown eyes, and twisty braids always reminded me of a black woodland sprite who couldn't find her way home. She stood by the barista machine, watching a tin of hot milk bubble with foam.
“I'm not judging or anything, but it's just weird,” she began, concerning the unlikely attraction between Caleb and me. “Isn't there, like, a rule somewhere about not dating your coworkers?”
“Isn't there,
like
, a rule about minding your own business?” I mocked while toweling off my wet hands, taking extra care to dry the gold bracelet on my wrist. I rotated the chain so the nameplate stood face up, and Lilith hummed when she recognized her name engraved on it in elegant script.
Alicia let out a shrill meow and set a row of fixed drinks on the coffee bar. “Somebody forgot to bring their charm to work. I'm just saying, you should be more low-key. People talk, you know.”
I watched her rush to the register to ring up the next customer. “Yeah, like people are talking in school about your tragic romance with Garrett Davenport.”
“What!” she squeaked, dropping the customer's change. She quickly apologized, then turned to me with alarm. “What did you hear?”
Shifting my lips from left to right, I crooned, “Oh, stuff. Like you and him secretly dating before he died and now all three Courtneys want your head on a platter, that's all. You're making enemies in high places. Be careful. Girls in our school are vicious.”
Lifting her chin high, she poured coffee mix and ice in the blender. “I'm not scared of them.”
My gaze wandered to the book floor and I smiled. “Oh, so if, say, Courtney B. rolled up right now, you wouldn't be scared?”
“Not at all.”
“Good to know, because she's heading to the counter right now.”
By the time I turned around, Alicia was a ghost with the blender still running. Only the swinging door of the back kitchen told me where she'd disappeared to. After finishing the drink order for her, I took my time going to the register and prayed for patience while in contact with the redheaded diva.
The three Courtneys were renowned in my school for their reign of tyranny, and Courtney B. ruled as the bloodsucking queen of the damned. The recent death of Garrett Davenport had shot the trio to stardom, and they milked the sympathy vote by wearing all black the first week of school. Telling by Courtney B.'s ensemble, the period of mourning was over.
Decked out in designer labels from head to toe, Courtney B. approached the counter with a strut suitable only for the runway. All that was missing were the wind machine and the slow-motion camera. Aside from her being painfully vapid, she owned the unmatched talent of squeezing insults into every conversation. For fear of getting fired, I decided to limit my responses to two words or less.
Her handbag thumped on the counter while she scanned around for the prey that had vanished from sight. Disappointed, she narrowed her icy gray eyes at me. “Hi. You're in my Spanish class. Sam, right?”
“Sí,” I said, deadpan. I couldn't believe this chick. We'd shared at least two classes since sixth grade and she still didn't know my name?
“Is that, like, short for Samantha?”
“No.” I pointed to my name tag.
“Oh. My bad. Anyway, you know that hot guy that works here, Caleb something?” She looked around the store.
Tapping my finger to my lips, I contemplated. “Six-foot-two, brown hair, purple-blue eyes, always smells like cake? Yeah, that would be my
boyfriend
.” I stressed the last word.
“Oh!” She looked surprised for a moment, appalled even, then swept a cursory glance up my frame. “Well, maybe you can help. I was wondering if you could talk him into deejaying my party on Halloween. He did such a great job at Robbie Ford's birthday party; I'd love to have him, um, spin for me.” She twirled a lock of hair around her manicured finger.
I should be used to women drooling all over my man, but that would require more patience than I could afford. “I'll be sure to run it by him, but it would be more businesslike coming from you. You can find him in the music section. That way.” I pointed to the other end of the store using my middle finger, a gesture too blatant to overlook.
Applying loud suction, Courtney slid her tongue over her teeth, perhaps to see if her fangs elongated. “Thanks. Doesn't seem to be your kind of thing, but I'll see if I can add you to the guest list too.” With a neck-spraining flip of the hair, she flounced away.
Resting my weight against the counter, I exhaled slowly, absorbing the sting of her verbal attack. This was an interesting turn of events. Courtney's Halloween bashes were the talk of school, but unlike Robbie Ford's parties, hers were for the A-list only. Mia would be so jealous if I got an invite before she did. The only downside was subjecting Caleb to that harpy's whims.
This was a good opportunity for him. Soon he would leave his position here to “scratch” with full force, but his budding deejay career already left us juggling schedules to see each other. Music was the mistress in our union, the only love I didn't mind sharing with him.
“Is she gone?” A timid voice came from the kitchen.
When I confirmed that she was, Alicia crept out, a wash of relief ran across her face. I shook my head, knowing this doe-eyed sophomore needed more life experience and pessimism to survive high school. The mother hen in me wanted to keep her innocence intact, so my watchful eyes were never far from her.
Seeing her trepidation, I said, “If it gets too bad, you have my number, okay?”
“Thanks.” She gave me a weak smile and went back to the register.
Though I only worked a few five-hour shifts during the weekdays, time seemed to run at a snail's pace. Alicia tried her best to entertain me with the latest gossip, but it didn't seem the same with Nadine gone. Nothing was the same with her gone.
I found myself comparing Alicia to Nadine, noting how she took forever to wrap the food when we closed, where it would only take Nadine ten minutes. Alicia chatted and laughed with the customers, whereas they had been considered lucky if they got service, let alone a smile, from Nadine. Alicia was an old friend and I would flip out if something happened to her, but the injustice prevailed.
That fact prevented me from finding closure, and I kept picking that scab until it bled. Time might patch it up, but the open wounds remained untreated and at risk of infection. Even if I'd known all that would happen, would it have made a difference? If Nadine hadn't died in my arms, Lilith wouldn't have needed to abandon ship and move into my crib. Maybe Lilith was her farewell gift, a secret she entrusted me to keep.
After shutdown, I clocked out at customer service, then ambled to the break room in an almost dreamlike state. Our monthly book club meeting was tonight, which was reason enough to wallow in sorrow, but seeing where Nadine had once sat deepened my depression another notch.
A part of me expected to see Nadine pass through the door, her blond hair bobbing behind her head in a haphazard bun. The staff's seating arrangement was an unspoken rule, so I wasn't the only one who paused at the empty folding chair by the soda machine. Even Linda, the store manager, shifted her eyes to the chair, as if an unholy curse awaited anyone who sat there.
I felt the gentle grip of a hand around my wrist, and that one touch caused my body to relax. Instantly, the doom-and-gloom atmosphere melted away, and in its place laid an intimate cocoon. I knew by heart that hand, and the senses that came with it: the warm sweetness of baked goods and a ton of nerve. Never mind butterflies: a colony of bats flapped inside my stomach, a rush of elation tightened my sternum.
Caleb smiled down at me as he guided me to the seats. He used his free hand to push back his hair only to have it tumble down and cover his face again. I watched the light brown strands fall in a slight curl by his jaw. A blazing amethyst hue filtered through the curtain of locks, a color that projected his mood and his spirit's needs.
“It's just a chair, Sam. It's not haunted,” Caleb said and sat next to me.
“Not the chair, just us,” I mumbled as my mind drifted again to my belated friend.
Nadine's life energy—the energy that came with Lilith—eventually dissolved, but the memories were kept on file for safekeeping—every birthday party, every bedtime story, every wild adventure, save one. It was strange how every facet of her life opened at the ready to me, all but that tiny blank spot of her history, a scene spliced during post-production.
To say Nadine had been a jaded woman would be a blatant understatement, but even she had loved deeply at some point, and the memory of it was hard to penetrate. This feeling I detected was far more dangerous than the ones she had for her family, a love that those with good sense shouldn't have for a faceless man. So it shocked me that someone with a fairly decent, albeit morbid, head on her shoulders would entertain such mush. And not tell me about it! We used to tell each other everything.
The mystery distracted me through the meeting to the point where Caleb shook me to attention when it was over. I had completely lost track of time, not to mention I hadn't gotten to share my book. While the crew filed out of the door, Alicia tossed me a parting glance, grinning in triumph.
Caleb extended his hand, then helped me to my feet. His smile produced broad dimples, two parentheses buried deep in his cheeks.
“What did I miss?” I asked.
“Alicia got her wish.
Specter: Part III
got voted book of the month. She went through a ten-minute dissertation of the intricacies of having a ‘totally hot' ghost boyfriend.” Caleb mimicked Alicia's squeaky voice perfectly. “You know there's a movie coming out about it?”
“I heard.” I collected my bag, then followed him out.
After wishing everyone good night, I stepped into the cool night with Caleb practically stuck to my back. His arm wrapped around my waist and squeezed, lifting me off the ground. I squealed, which caused the crew to roll their eyes at us from the parking lot as he carried me to his Jeep.
A honking horn came from a blue SUV driving by. “Get a room!” Alicia yelled from the passenger-side window as her dad drove her away.
“That's not such a bad idea,” Caleb whispered in my ear before kissing the back of my neck.
I wiggled against his hold. “That's it. You are unfit to be in my company, sir.”
“Aw, come on! Don't be that way.”
“Unhand me, contemptible cur! 'Else purge such lechery from thine purpose, you knave!”
Snorting a laugh, he set me down. “All right, Lady Macbeth, have it your way.”
I pressed against his car door and frowned.
“What's wrong?”
I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. “Nothing. I've got a lot on my mind.”
“Oh, yeah? Does it have to do with your eye?” He grazed the fading bruise with his thumb.
On contact, the day's events resurfaced as did the slight throb from my injury. “Okay, this is gonna sound weird, but I think I saw something today.” I told him about Malik, the Picture Day light show, and the ominous feeling that had come with it. Caleb stayed quiet until I finished, wearing an incredulous look on his face.
“Sam, Cambions don't turn transparent in harsh light, and as far as I know there are no others like us in town. We're kinda spread out for a reason. And you said you've known this guy for years and no warning bells have ever gone off, no strange-color eyes, no girls being rushed to the hospital, so I think you're good on that front. But if it happens again, let me know, okay?” When I nodded, he asked, “Did you feed at all today? That might've been the cause of you seeing weird stuff.”
“I did afterward during lunch, but I hate feeding off of guys I know. I have to see them every day, and it's awkward enough as it is. When I take in their energy, their memories come with it and they're hard to get over. Most of them I block out, but others are too juicy to ignore. Don't get me wrong, it has its privileges, but it gets real crowded up here, you know.” I tapped my temple, then rubbed my face. “Sorry. I wasn't trying to vent. My brain is all over the place. And I didn't get to share my book.”

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