Dark Perceptions (Mystic's Carnival Collective) (9 page)

Damn him for keeping her from Sebastian.

And damn him for escaping the Reaper.

Sebastian stood beside his second stop of the day. If he had a choice he’d be at Marcus’s door right now, but the opportunity to get away from prying eyes or the constant watch of his father and his men had yet to present itself. The asphalt spread before him, a dark and crumbled highway to the unknown
―
at least, unknown to most who found themselves in need of Sebastian’s services. He knew exactly where it led.

An empty aluminum can lay at his feet. With slow and deliberate intention, he knelt down and retrieved the evidence. Beer. Sunlight reflected off its sliver surface as he spun it with his fingers, then shoved it at the boy standing before him. Right into his hands. Hands covered with blood.
 

Coming December 2014

Glimpse

A splash cannonaded behind her,
the explosion blossoming a flutter of fealty throughout Kyra’s hearty being. Surprise, confusion, they strangled her. Shoving the card into the hands of a milky-faced Sebastian, she turned toward ripples rolling out from the one spot on the water’s surface calling her
―
her target.
 

Three men ran away on the bridge above. One was missing. She looked to the water, then back to the bridge. The way the men ran reminded her of a snippet from a horrid, low-budget, human action flick. Her heart tripped over a beat and she didn’t understand why. All she knew was she had to go, had to follow the feeling, the pull. She half stumbled, half rushed forward, a trickle of sweat sneaking down her brow, quietly escaping her beastly anxiousness.
 

Sebastian grabbed her arm, dragged her to a stop. He was the barely-calm before the storm, and ready to burst. “What are you doing?”

She looked down at his grip, her emotions pinging and ponging inside of her, torn between her loyalty to Sebastian and the inexplicable need now growing. “Someone fell in. I’m going to save him.” Urgency coursed through her in a way she’d never experienced before.

“But he’s human.” Sebastian’s voice seethed with undeniable disdain.
 

She flinched, yet swore it was panic she detected in his eyes. She’d never heard such ugly inflection in his voice, not ever. Not in all their hours playing poker in his trailer, or hanging in the back lot behind Big Eli with a bottle, making up stories about the people riding the magic circle of lights
―
the Ferris wheel. Not even on his darker days when she would find him wandering by the wall of fog. Those days, they would walk for hours talking about nothing greater than nonsense. If he truly felt that way, she’d have gotten a hint of it before now.
 

“So what?” She peeled his hand free.
 

“You’ll risk exposing us.” His voice hitched.
 

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

She wasn’t a hundred percent confident in her words but didn’t want him to see her falter. Too strong was the pride pulsing through her veins. Besides, going after the man wasn’t a choice she was free to make. She
had
to go. She didn’t want to accept it but knew it was true. Something pulled at her. Like she was on the end of a fishing line being reeled in. With an abrupt turn she walked away, a piece of her breaking into bits with each stretched step put between them. She prayed their trust would survive whatever happened next.

Kyra stepped into the brisk, wild current. It welcomed her like a child returning home after a long absence. It had been too long since she’d allowed herself to swim, and the water was glorious to the touch. Overdue pleasure spread to the corners of her cheeks, and she dove into its depths. Cold, vicious liquid wrapped around every curve of her body as she began to change, shedding unnecessary human garments in trade for her true self.

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Debra Kristi was born and raised
a Southern California girl. She still resides in the sunny state with her husband, two kids, and three schizophrenic cats. A lover of fanciful stories at a young age, she hadn’t realized the writer bug infected her until much later in life. As a result, her stories pull from a rich history of experiences.
 

When not busy drumming away at the keyboard or chatting it up on social media, Debra is hanging out creating priceless memories with her family, geeking out to science fiction and fantasy television, and tossing around movie quotes.
 

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Let me start by saying thank you to you, the reader! Time is an invaluable commodity and the fact you choose to spend it reading my work means a lot to me. You are magnificent!
 

To my beta readers and critique partners, you guys rock! Martha Ormonde, Leandra Savage, Kristy K. James, Diana Beebe, and Lynne Freeman, thank you from the bottom of my soul for all your feedback. You really helped this story find its feet.
 

Huge thanks to my amazing editor, Tiffany Turpin Johnson of TJ Writeography for always making me dig deeper. I love the torture
―
keep it coming. Tatiana Villa, thank you for the brilliant cover design. You are a joy to work with. Muse & Pen, thank you for sparking the idea from which this story grew.

To my MCC family, the hours of world building, character definitions, and idea swapping is always amazing. Love you guys! My friends and family (both immediate and extended), none of this would be possible if it weren’t for you and your support of me. I am so grateful for all of you. Love all of you! Thank you.