Wiccan, A Witchy Young Adult Paranormal Romance (17 page)

“
Well, I wondered if maybe
the dog had been hit before you stumbled upon him. Wounded animals
react violently sometimes, especially to strangers. That would
explain the injuries as well as his attack, though I don’t know how
he managed an attack being in such bad shape.”

“
He looked fine to me, but
it all happened so fast, I just- I can’t say for sure.”

I rested my forehead against the cool
steering wheel. Had I really done all those things to that dog? I
mean, if I had, it’s not like I was unprovoked. He was trying to
eat me after all. But still, it didn’t set well with me, hurting an
animal like that. I’d always liked animals and, before today,
they’d always liked me.

“
Well, in any case, it’s not
your fault. And the owners know that. They’ve asked that I pass
along their number so that they can pay for your hospital
bill.”

The girl at the registration desk had
asked some questions about things like that when she’d gone over
insurance information, but I just assumed I’d never know who the
dog belonged to, so…

“
That would be very kind of
them. Thank you for passing that along, Officer Bryant.”

I took down the name and
number of the dog’s owners and bid Officer Bryant a good night. My
stomach was a little swimmy and I really didn’t feel like coffee,
but I
did
want to
see Grayson, so I called him next. We agreed to meet at the park
near my house again.

I called home and told my parents that
I was stopping by the store and it would be a while longer before I
got home. They were still adjusting to my independence, but they
were trying their best to respect it. Mom just reminded me to be
careful and kept all her other thoughts and opinions to
herself.

By the time I got to the park, Grayson
was already there and I was feeling somewhat better. He rolled down
the passenger window and said, “Get in.”

When I’d locked up the Jeep and slid
into the passenger seat of the Charger, I shut the door and turned
to look at him. The car smelled lightly of cinnamon and his lips
were curled into a lopsided grin. “I can’t say that I blame the
dog. You do look pretty edible,” he kidded, his eyes a warm dark
gold in the dying light of the day.

My cheeks heated and I’m sure I was
turning eight shades of red. Luckily, darkness was fast approaching
and I doubted it was that noticeable. Maybe he’d attribute any
vibrant color to the blazing orange sunset.

“
Starbucks
alright?”

“
Oh, yeah!”

“
Buckle up,” he said,
pulling the gear shift down into reverse.

He watched me as I pulled the seat belt
across me and slid the metal clip into its clasp. He was looking at
me like I really was edible and I felt my cheeks burning again. A
silly grin tugged at my lips and I leaned my head back against the
head rest, watching him watch me. He shook his head as if clearing
it of a fog, smiled and backed out of the parking space.

The moment was gone, but it was one of
those that felt like such a compliment, you wanted to relive it
over and over and over again, which I’m sure I’d do plenty of times
in the coming days. It left the atmosphere in the car light and
friendly, yet highly charged, like the air between us
crackled.

We did the small talk thing on the way
to get our coffee. At Starbuck’s, Grayson bought me a Cinnamon
Dulce Latte and a plain black coffee for himself. Drinking coffee
that way must be a cop thing.

“
They didn’t give us
napkins. Why don’t you get a couple out of the glove compartment,”
he said, pointing toward it as if I didn’t know where it was
located.
He’s so cute!
I thought with a smile.

When I opened up the compartment, I was
surprised at how everything inside was neatly arranged and
separated. The small area was divided into three distinct sections:
owner’s manual, stakeout supplies and Fireballs. Though it wasn’t
the largest section, I estimated that there were at least a hundred
Fireballs in his glove compartment, maybe more.

The sweet cinnamon smell wafted up to
tickle my nose and I thought immediately of how Grayson’s mouth
tasted. Warmth spread through my belly.

Embarrassed at where my thoughts were
going, I quickly grabbed us each a napkin from the stakeout
supplies section and shut the door. Without looking up, I handed
Grayson a napkin and said, “Now what were you saying?”

Inevitably, after the small talk had
waned, the conversation had turned toward murder. And since there
were no new developments in Lisa Bauer’s case, we’d moved quickly
past her and started talking about the two newer cases. The second
murder victim had been identified as Ariel Stoots.

“
I was asking you if you saw
any other kind of violence toward Stoots in your dream? Other than
the knife to her heart and finger?”

I thought back and couldn’t remember
laying hands on her at any other time. “No. I really can’t.
Why?”

At the park, Grayson pulled into the
same parking space he’d used before and then he cut the engine. A
puzzled frown pinched his dark eyebrows together. “It’s so strange.
She had massive brain damage. The ME said it was like she’d been
shot in the head only there was absolutely no evidence of a bullet.
Or a gunshot wound for that matter.”

I went back over my dream, played it
back in slow motion, looking for anything I might’ve missed. A
sinking feeling invaded the pit of my stomach when I reached the
part where my hand had hovered over Ariel Stoots’ body and she’d
started bucking like she was having a seizure.

As she grabbed at her head and thrashed
about like something was hurting her, the pieces started to fall
into place. And then I saw the blood dripping from her chin. That’s
the moment she’d suffered the terrible brain damage. I’d bet my
life on it.

I could feel the milk from my
cappuccino curdling in my stomach. My guts contracted and roiled in
distress.

“
Are you
alright?”

Grayson was looking at me
suspiciously.

“
I guess I’ve just had too
much excitement. My drink isn’t setting very well.”

“
This probably wasn’t the
best night to do this. Why don’t you go home and get some rest? We
can try this again some other time. Maybe this weekend. You know,
since you’re in need of some…entertainment and all,” he teased with
a wink.

“
That’s probably a good
idea. I mean, I’d hate to ruin your carpet. Or your upholstery,” I
said looking around. Then my eyes came to rest on his crisp white
shirt. “Or your clothes.”

He looked down and then back up at me.
“Yeah, I pretty much like all my stuff cappuccino and vomit
free.”

“
Eh,” I said with a shrug.
“To each his own.” I forced a smile into place.

“
Call you Saturday?” That
must be his thing, to ask questions in that way.

“
Great!”

I sat for a few more
seconds, not knowing exactly what to do. I thought he might kiss me
again. I
wanted
him to kiss me again. Even though I felt like I could hurl at
a moment’s notice, my hormones were still very much aflutter.
Apparently his were not, however, because he made no move to do any
such thing.

“
Well, thanks for the
coffee,” I said, pulling the door handle to let myself
out.

“
My pleasure,” he said,
starting the engine.

Just before I shut the door, he leaned
across the seat. “Call me if anything else happens.”

I just smiled and nodded. It seemed
that his mind was always working.

He waited until I had reversed out of
the parking lot before he pulled out. In my rearview mirror, I
watched him speed away in the opposite direction.

My emotions were a mess. In
the last two weeks, I’d started college, met two cute guys, and
seen not one, not two, but
three
murders in graphic detail. I’d also caused someone
to puke on Jake, inadvertently talked an innocent girl into
attacking Trinity and her friends, possibly contributed to a man
getting shot, mentally slammed a dog against a tree and now Grayson
was leaving me high and dry. I couldn’t help but wonder if God
punk’d people and, if so, how I’d managed to get on that crappy
list.

I ran by the pharmacy to get my
prescriptions filled then headed home. After I’d parked in the
driveway and gotten my stuff together to carry into the house, I
got the odd, but distinct feeling that I was being watched again.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled and I rubbed at it with my
empty hand.

I didn’t want to seem too obvious, so I
sort of casually glanced around as I walked up the sidewalk,
looking for strange cars, silhouettes or movement. I saw nothing,
but that didn’t relieve the sensation.

I hurried into the house and was
immediately bombarded by my parents. While it would’ve been more in
character (lately anyway) for me to be annoyed by their attentions,
tonight it was like a soothing balm to all my assaulted
senses.

Mom took my bags from my hand and set
them on the counter, insisting that I go and sit on the couch and
let her take care of me. So I did.

She poured me some Coke for my upset
stomach and brought me my first round of pills. She touched my
forehead to feel for a fever and unfolded an afghan and threw it
over my legs. She brushed my hair back and offered to fix me
something to eat. No matter how much they aggravated me sometimes,
my parents were awesome!

Dad sat quietly in his recliner during
all this. He showed his support by totally disregarding the
television. Dad only ignored the news for something really, really
important. And tonight, that something was me.

CHAPTER TEN

The next days flew by in a blur. At
home, Dad was curiously amused that I’d started to watch the news
with him in the evening. He was probably thinking that his little
girl was growing up and taking an interest in the world around her.
What he didn’t know was that I was holding my breath each and every
night, hoping that there was no mention of me in any of the
reports.

“
I’d love to know who these
‘anonymous sources’ and ‘reliable witnesses’ they keep referring to
are,” Dad said one night. “If they’re so reliable, why don’t they
know who’s doing the killing?”

I tried to seem casually
puzzled. “That’s a good question. Of course, maybe it means the
killer is just
that good.
I mean, it can’t be easy to get away with murder
so he must be doing something right.” Dad tossed me an odd look.
“You know what I mean.” He gave me a
Hmm
and then turned his attention
back to the television.

When it appeared that I’d managed to go
another day undetected, I excused myself to bed. Even though it was
Saturday night, I was turning in early. Something had come up at
work and Grayson had pushed our coffee re-date to tomorrow night
and there wasn’t anything else that I really wanted to
do.

I sighed happily at the mere thought of
Grayson. I’d talked to him every day and was becoming quite
addicted to it—and to him. I tried not to think too much about it.
On some level, I think I was afraid that when the cases involving
me were concluded, we would be, too. I don’t know why I felt that
way; he’d never said anything to that effect. It’s just something
that bothered me deep down.

Shaking off my disturbing thoughts, I
went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I thought
I’d do some reading for pleasure for once. It seemed all I’d done
for two weeks was read for academic purposes.

With squeaky clean skin and teeth, I
was rubbing lotion into my hands as I walked across to my bed when
something tapped against the window. I probably should’ve been
afraid, but ever since I was a child, my parents’ house had always
felt like an impenetrable fortress, like nothing could hurt me as
long as I was inside these four walls. So it was with that feeling
of perfect safety that I pulled up the blinds and looked out the
window.

It was all I could do to stifle the
scream that bubbled up in my throat when I saw a face less than a
foot from mine. It was Jake.

Instantly irritated, I flipped open the
lock and raised the window, hissing angrily, “What are you doing
here?”

Jake looked immediately contrite and a
little confused. “I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you at school
the last couple of days and I don’t have your phone number so I
thought I’d just stop by your house.”

“’
Stop by’? ‘Stop by’?” I
repeated incredulously. “Creepy-stalker-guy-outside-my-window and
‘stop by’ are not the same thing.”

“
I’m not creepy and I’m not
a stalker. I was walking up to your front door when I saw you walk
through the kitchen. When this light came on, I figured it was your
bedroom window.”

“
And that makes it ok to
just pop up right here in front of it and scare the bejesus out of
me?”

I saw him roll his eyes and that
further poked my already sensitive temper. “I didn’t mean to scare
you. I just wanted to talk to you.”