Living Violet (21 page)

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Authors: Jaime Reed

Tags: #Young Adult, #Fantasy, #Romance

BOOK: Living Violet
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24
W
ork proved to be a useful distraction.
The rapid activity kept me going for several hours. Through the drink orders and café chatter, I stayed in tune with my cell phone, anticipating the slightest vibration from my pocket. Dad checked into a hotel until Monday and promised to alert me on any updates.
Nadine watched me from the corner of her eye, waiting for that nervous breakdown right around the bend. Caleb must have told her the news, because she kept asking me if I was all right.
When Mia and Dougie showed up during my break, I lost it. Mia was the only one to ever see me do the Nasty Cry, so I didn't mind using her shirt as a handkerchief. I sat in the backseat of her car with my head on her lap.
“I like Ms. M., I really do.” Mia brushed my hair with her hand. “She's way cooler than my mom.”
“Your mom lets you do whatever you want.” I sniffed.
“Because she doesn't care. She gives me things so I can get out of her hair. ‘Go to the mall, Mia,' or, ‘Take my credit card and go get something nice, on me.' You know, my first ‘woman talk' was with your mom.”
I lifted my head. “The ones with the sock puppets?”
“Yeah. That's why I always came over to your house. Your mom actually worried about me.”
Dougie squeezed my shoulder. “I liked your mom too. She was weird, but she was pretty.”
Mia's hands flew over my ears. “Stop using past tense, Dougie! She ain't dead. She's just hospitalized.”
Dougie lowered his head. “Sorry.”
“It's cool.” I sat up and eyed the clock on the dashboard. “My break's almost up. I'll see you guys later.”
After serving hugs all around, I climbed out and put my suit of armor back on. Nadine's eyes tracked me as soon as I entered the building.
“You going to talk to Caleb?”
Brushing past her, I reached for my apron. “I'm not in the mood.”
“He worries about you. And you need to know what's going on as soon as possible.”
I turned to her. “What's going on with his dad? I've never seen Caleb get so defensive. If anything, I should be the one freaking out. It's my mom he hurt, not his.”
“Maybe you should talk to Caleb.”
“You may need to wait in line, my dear.” A voice called from the counter. Nadine and I jumped at the same time. Mr. Ross propped his hip against the counter, wearing a smile that personified conquest. “Good afternoon, Samara. How is your mother?”
“Like you care,” I sneered.
Nadine pushed me behind her. “State your business and leave, Mr. Ross.”
“Petrovsky, I remember when you were this tall.” He measured to his mid-thigh and smiled. “What a beautiful woman you've become. Just like your mother.”
“What do you want?” Nadine asked again, her tone dripping with venom.
A hint of fear flashed in his eyes, breaking down his reserved disposition for a second. “Now Nadine, we don't want to cause a scene. I'm just remarking on how beautiful you are, especially when angry.” Casting a sly glance to the customers, Mr. Ross said, “You're positively ...
glowing
.” His eyes grew wide to underline his meaning.
Taking the hint, Nadine gasped and snapped her eyes shut.
Smiling in triumph, he continued. “Now that the pleasantries are over, have either of you ladies seen my son? I have a few issues to address with him.”
“I'm sure you can contact him by phone,” Nadine said, her voice trembling from anger.
“He's not exactly returning my calls, so I decided to see him in person.” He looked around Nadine to lock eyes on me. “Samara, come here, sweetheart.”
I approached the object of my scorn without question, without resistance, and without a bit of back talk. Though fully aware of my actions, and of the string of what I was sure was Polish cursing behind me, it didn't even occur to me to refuse. When I reached the counter, he brushed a curl away from my face and caressed my cheek. He looked so much like Caleb; it scared me.
“No wonder my son is possessive of you,” he said with a secretive smile, as if amused at some joke that only he knew about. “We have a lot to discuss, you and I, but right now, would you be so kind as to tell me where I can locate my son?”
My stomach clenched in tight spasms, as if trying to regurgitate the words.
“Get away from her,” a voice growled behind him, shattering my enchantment. Mr. Ross turned to see Caleb in full attack mode.
Backing away from the counter, Mr. Ross lifted his hands in surrender. “There's no need for that. I simply want to talk to you.”
Caleb nudged his head toward the exit. “Outside.”
As Mr. Ross limped ahead, Caleb looked at Nadine with narrowed eyes and mouthed the words,
Watch her
.
Nadine nodded and pulled me inside the back kitchen before I could object. Her hands gripped my shoulders and she hunched down, making direct eye contact. Her limbs trembled as sweat broke from her forehead and upper lip. The intensity of her gaze startled me.
“Look at me!” Nadine commanded, shaking my arms. “Look at me, Sam. What do you see?”
“I see your face—more than what I would like to right now.”
“Close your eyes.” When I hesitated, she shook me again. I shut my eyes, and she asked, “What do you see?”
“Darkness. Nadine, what's going—”
“You don't see Mr. Ross's face, his eyes, any image at all?”
“No.”
Pushing out a breath, she released me. “Good.”
I opened my eyes and saw her slumped against the dishwasher. Her muscles locked as she gripped the metal surface. I'd never seen her so spooked out before, which only shot my panic level to an all-new high. “What was that about?”
“Mr. Ross is very strong Cambion, and he knows how to use his power.”
“You think he used it on me?” I asked.
She sucked in a breath of air in an attempt to regain composure. “I know he did. I needed to know how much.”
That didn't make any sense. “Caleb said I was immune to the draw.”
She wiped the sweat from her forehead and readjusted her bun. “Caleb's draw, yes, because he is still young. His father is older and stronger. He can turn the enticement on and off in a flash. No woman can oppose him when he lays on the charm. Even I am affected to extent. He is too strong, in fact. This means only one thing.” She trailed off as some great insight struck her.
“What?”
“I told you, it is not good to consume entire life. You become more demon than human, but you also gain power. Mr. Ross is on the brink and he wants more. Could you not sense his hunger?”
“Not really.” It wasn't a lie; I was just too preoccupied by my own hunger to notice.
She nodded. “Your willfulness and purity counteract the draw, making your resistance high. Your reaction is not severe as most; you're still able to complete a thought on your own.”
I shrunk back. Did everyone know about my lack of a sex life? Was it on a billboard somewhere? I guess if it served as a blockade against the forces of darkness, I'd have it tattooed on my forehead.
“I had a bit of a pull toward him, Nadine,” I confessed.
She snorted. “That is expected. He gave heavy signals just now. Any other woman would have leaped over counter and taken him right there.”
I couldn't wrap my mind around that. There was no way I would jump stupid or degrade myself for the sake of gratification. But then again, I still owned my free will ... for now.
“Why would he want to mess with me or my mom?” I asked. “We haven't done anything to him.”
Nadine inched to the swinging doors and peeked outside. “Doesn't matter. It will affect you anyway. And now you know what he is, he might come after you.”
“Why?”
She remained on edge, her eyes shifting to every moving creature in the café. “If he sees you as threat, he will hurt you.”
I joined her side by the door. “What about Caleb? I'm his son's girlfriend.”
“That will not stop him if you're an obstacle. And as you can tell, he's not above hurting those close to him.”
The finality in her tone made my ire skyrocket. Mr. Ross may have had everyone else scared, but he had messed with the wrong chick. I didn't do powerless and wasn't about to sit by and let tragedy happen to me. Regardless of blood ties, if things had to come to blows, then Caleb's dad was going to end up missing.
Nadine held the door for me. “We got more customers. Caleb will explain everything later, all right?”
Speechless, I returned to the workstation with a fresh batch of anger and paranoia. Nadine's consoling hand on my shoulder only solidified that everything was far from all right.
25
A
n hour later, Caleb returned to the café and conducted his own examination.
He checked my pulse; made me follow his finger, along with light and reflex tests. He all but whipped out a Breathalyzer to prove I wasn't under the influence of Big Daddy's mojo.
Once satisfied, he pushed out a long breath. “I'm following you to the hospital tonight, just in case.”
“Just in case of what?”
“Just in case,” he repeated with a determination that seemed foreign.
Nadine paced behind us. “Have you called your brothers?”
“Yeah, Brodie's catching a red-eye from London, so he should arrive tomorrow. Michael said he's getting the first flight out, and he should be here no later than Monday.”
My head swung between them. “Guys, if you're trying to freak me out, you're doing a bang-up job.”
Caleb rubbed my arms. “I'm sorry, but we need to make sure your mother's safe. That's our top priority.”
“What did your dad talk to you about?” I asked.
“I'll explain it tonight when we have more privacy.” He tilted his head, indicating the two dozen ears and eyes swarming the café. “Nadine and I will follow you to the hospital.”
“I gotta stop by the house and change first.”
“That's fine. We go where you go.” His stern features told me that the decision was not merely a suggestion, but an undisputed fact.
 
After the store closed, I called Dad en route to the house and updated him about Mr. Ross. Omitting the otherworldly element of my suspicion, I provided enough reason for Dad to keep his eyes peeled. To my absolute horror, he told me that a man fitting Mr. Ross's description tried to visit earlier today, but was denied because visiting hours were over. I almost crashed my car. He assured me that there was an abnormal number of police officers circling the hospital, probably courtesy of Caleb's phone call, which brought my heart rate back to a reasonable pace.
As promised, Caleb and Nadine escorted me to the house. It was a good thing, too. Turning off the car engine, it then occurred to me how forsaken and sideshow-spooky my house looked with no inside lights. Holding a can of mace in hand, I crept toward the porch until the security lights brightened the lawn. Mom had spared no expense when it came to security. She had the interactive security service that called when stuff went down. The porch light afforded enough voltage to light Vegas for two days and blind any possible assailant.
Nadine entered the house and did a quick sweep of the second floor while Caleb searched downstairs. I stood against the front door, clutching my bag, and feeling the terror rise in the back of my throat. When Caleb returned, he motioned me to the living room and took a seat.
Sitting across from him, I cracked my knuckles. “Is this the part where you tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Where do I start?” he asked, more to himself than to his audience.
“Your dad.”
His weary eyes looked up at me. “How much time do you have?”
“As long as it takes.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he laid it all on the table. “Okay. My father is not in his right mind and very dangerous.”
“I figured that much, but what level of crazy are we working with here?” I asked.
He raked a hand through his hair. “Let me go back. It started around seven years ago when my mom was first diagnosed with cancer. There were a few signs then, but we were too focused on Mom to pay attention. When Mom died, he snapped, and a part of him died too. His spirit wasn't going to let him get away with that, so it took over for a while. And that's when the incidents began.”
I shifted in my seat. “Go on. You can't be this foreboding without good reason.”
His gaze lowered to the floor when he continued. “Shortly after mom's death, women in London were starting to disappear, as well as in Dublin. Their bodies were found days later, all dead from shock or heart failure. The coincidence was too uncanny, especially in those places. It was better than any fingerprint.”
“Why those cities?” Nadine asked, strolling around the living room and eyeing photos on the walls.
“My mom was from London, and they met in Dublin,” he replied. “He was reenacting the beginning of their relationship. Every one of his victims had curly brown hair and blue eyes, like my mom.”
Nadine stopped in front of the fireplace and picked up my baby picture. “Like fantasy role-playing?”
Caleb shrugged. “I'm just explaining the motive here. He's going through a type of spiritual withdrawal. The emotions, the energy he had with mom were unique and potent, and it isn't there anymore. His spirit recognized it as a good source of energy. Now dad feeds irregularly, and he doesn't care if women die or not. He just knows he needs to soothe the loss. The spirit's energy deficit on top of my dad's own grief made him delusional. He thinks by finding women similar to Mom, it might pacify the need.”
“Can't he use an alternative source of energy?” I asked. “You've been using sugar for years.”
Narrowed eyes shot in my direction. “And look how far that got me. We sustain by consuming human life energy. Just like me, he's letting the spirit take over and binge, just to sate the ache. By the time we all figured out what was going on, he had already killed five women.”
I jumped. “Five!”
Nadine spun around, wearing a similar look of horror. “What do you mean
already
? As in that was just the beginning.”
“I only know about five,” Caleb admitted. “I have no idea what he's done between the time I left and now.”
“Wait a minute. You're telling me your dad is a psychotic serial killer who's after my mom.” When Caleb nodded, I yelled, “And his ass isn't in jail?”
“There's no evidence that he was involved. All the autopsy reports prove is that the women suffered cardiac arrest. No charge would stick. Trust me, I've called the police several times.”
“So your dad just runs around free and clear?” I asked.
“He's under suspicion. Detectives follow him, but they don't have any solid evidence to convict him.”
I couldn't believe this. How could he just let his dad continue to murder innocent women? Women like Mom.
“Why haven't you done anything?” I yelled.
Caleb sat up straight, his face hard with indignation. “You think I haven't? I've done
everything
in my power to put him away. I've taken him to mental wards, but they release him a week later.”
“Why?”
“From outside appearances, he's quite sane; and as
you
realize, very persuasive with females. Have you noticed how many nurses, psychiatrists, and medical directors are women?”
My jaw dropped. “Omigod.”
“We've tried everything, we've drugged him, and we've put him on house arrest. My brothers take shifts staying with dad, making sure he's cared for. Haden is more connected, more sympathetic to dad than the rest of us and spends the summer at his cottage in Brussels. Lately, Dad's been asking for me specifically, needing to reacquaint our spirits, as required. But I couldn't be anywhere near him. I haven't returned his calls, and I usually delete his messages. He even sent Haden to come and find me, and we all know how well that turned out. Since they share a strong connection, dad tracked Haden to Virginia in order to find me, and he's been here ever since. Three weeks, exactly.” Caleb stared at the opposite side of the room.
“He's been biding his time, moving slow so not to rouse suspicion. He's been following me, watching me at work... .” Caleb's eyes, wide and haunted, latched to mine. “Watching me with you. He was there at the poetry meeting, and yet he couldn't work up the courage to show himself.”
Using my fingers, I did a head count of the casualties. “So, including the lady at the poetry reading, that's six women total—that we know about. You're dad has killed six women, and no one is doing shit about it. He's really hell-bent on becoming a demon, isn't he?”
Caleb blanched, then cut his eyes to Nadine.
Nadine returned the look, but with more hostility. “She shouldn't be in the dark about us. Not now.”
In silent acquiescence, Caleb continued. “The transformation requires several lives to be consumed at once. The murders were spread too far apart for the energy to build up. The power that comes with it is addictive. As he gets stronger, so will his hunger. He'll certainly reach his quota if not stopped.
“My father is beyond redemption. Before, he was consumed with grief, but at least he felt something remotely human. Now, he's becoming what Cambions fear most, a creature of vice. But there's a calculated method to his madness. He told me today how he met your mother with every intention of feeding, but he couldn't do it right then. He wanted to take his time with her, play with his food. He's made his pursuits a sport, singling out those who resemble mom.”
My stomach lurched. “You think he's going to go after my mom again?”
The light and warmth behind his eyes was snuffed out. “I know he will.”
I pushed back the bile creeping up my throat. “Why?”
“She triggered a response in my dad that he hasn't had since mom. He's curious and hungry.”
“Curious?”
“The fact that your mother is still alive makes him curious. She must have had a hell of a resistance. She might be lonely, but she acts like you: guarded, sarcastic, no-nonsense. That's kinda what drew me to you.”
My upper lip curled. “That's gross.”
“It's the thrill of the chase. And your mother sparked his interest. That's all he would talk about today, but he slipped once and called her by my mom's name. And then there's you.”
I jumped. “What about me?”
He held me with a look that stopped my blood circulation. “He might go through you to get to his prize.”
Having heard enough, Nadine stood up, ready to take action. “How do we stop him?”
Caleb dropped his head into his hands. Curling his fingers into his hair, he said, “Keep Sam and her mother away from him until we can figure out what to do. He's not full demon yet, so he can still be killed. That's one advantage we have. And I plan to use it.”
 
I took a shower, hoping to wash away the past twenty-four hours. I'd never delved into such spirituality before, but this tiled cubicle became my temple, a place of peace with healing waters of absolution.
I should've left while I had the chance. As soon as Caleb told me what he was, I could've kicked his scrawny butt to the curb. No measure of stupidity could equal mine right now, and Mom would pay the price for my error.
It was easy to identify the irony in this situation. People hailed Samara Marshall as the last person to get into a relationship, and now, here I was, smack dab in the middle of the weirdest kind imaginable. If this summer's events weren't a reason to steer clear of guys, nothing was.
And my poor mother's warnings and cautionary tales did nothing but make her another victim. There was a belief that one perpetuates one's fears. The amount of energy and concentration invested in something will force it to manifest. The trick was to use that brainpower for good, yet it had clearly backfired on my mother.
I tried not to notice Mom's shampoo and loofah on the shower rack. I couldn't look at her monogrammed towel hanging on the door, or her toothbrush and contact solution on the sink. Caleb told me I would go through a stage of guilt, but no amount of forewarning could soften the blow.
Stepping out of the shower, I cataloged the little things that used to annoy me, how my perfume and conditioner would wind up missing, or how Mom used my bathroom instead of her own, or the eighties rock ballads that blared through the walls while she got dressed. This house was a three-dimensional postcard of my mother. Everywhere I turned was a relic of her existence, a shell with no life inside it. All good things must end, but this one just might take me with it.
Once dressed, I packed a bag while plotting an exit strategy. I was in over my head. School began in three weeks and a law degree waited in my future. My dream car sat in a dealership parking lot, calling my name. I had a family to protect, but all thoughts shot back to Caleb. I cared deeply for him; a part of me ached and feared for him, but not enough to throw my life away.
The knock on the door made me jump. “Who is it?”
“It's me,” Caleb called through the door. “Are you decent?”
“No, but I'm dressed. Come in.”
Poking his head inside, he surveyed the war zone of my bedroom. “Wow, are there any bodies in here?”

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