Wicked Wind (Solsti Prophecy #1)
Read Wicked Wind (Solsti Prophecy #1) Online
Authors: Sharon Kay
W
ICKED
W
IND
A Solsti Prophecy Novel
Sharon Kay
This is a work of fiction. Any actual places are used in a fictional context. Other names of places and people are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual places or people is purely coincidental.
Edited by Janet Michelson
Cover art by Amanda Simpson at Pixel Mischief
Interior design by
Ink Slinger Editorial Services
FIRST EDITION
W
ICKED
W
IND
Copyright © 2013 Sharon Kay
All rights reserved.
Kindle Edition
A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my husband, for supporting my out-of-the-blue idea to write a novel, for giving me time to write, for proofreading, and for putting up with all my quirks. I love you!
To my son. I’ll always be here to “hug you and kiss you for one hundred days.”
To my local chapter of NaNoWriMo, for hammering the mantra of JUST WRITE, and write until the novel is done. Editing comes LATER.
To my critique partners - I adore each of you. Thank you for falling for my characters, but keeping enough perspective to let me know when they stepped out of line.
Kaci and Claudia - thank you for the words of encouragement and for slogging through my unpolished first drafts!
Cam - thank you for sharing your thoughts and asking me the tough questions.
Racquel - You’ve been there for me since the newbie stage, since the first chapter of the first draft. You were one of the first to make me see that my little novel could take flight. You dissected my early attempts with TLC and you’ve been in my corner ever since.
Amy - thanks for the mornings in the coffee shop, talking about our novels and everything else. I’m grateful for your insight and words of encouragement, whether about writing or life.
Victoria - You’re an amazing writer and an amazing woman. Your strength and grace are as much an inspiration to me as your plucky heroines. I’m excited to watch you take the publishing world by storm! And my fight scenes kick serious bad-guy booty thanks to you!
To my SW’s, Jamie and Cristin – Name a subject and I’ll bet we have talked about it. I will be forever grateful for the straight talk, the silly talk, the smart-ass talk and the supportive talk, for the late night “we’re-so-tired-but-just-have-to-say-one-more-thing” pep talks. You both inspire me to stretch my “wordology” and improve my writing!
Jamie (SFAM) – I admire how you jumped feet first into the indie publishing world and am so proud of your success!
Cristin (Spice) – Your stories are breathtaking. I can’t wait to see them on Kindles and bookshelves!
To my brother David and my sister Diana – thanks for just being awesomely supportive. And Di, thanks for the last minute read-throughs!
Thank you to my parents and my in-laws, for your love, support, and encouraging my creativity.
C
ONTENTS
P
ROLOGUE
“T
HAT
CONCERT
WAS
awesome.” Nicole Bonham raked a hand through her hair, pulling the blond strands into a bunch at one shoulder.
The warm air of the summer night swirled around Nicole and her sister Brooke, a refreshing change from the stuffy venue they’d left. Their heeled boots clicked on the sidewalk as they walked a few blocks down Madison Street toward the bus stop. Traffic around the United Center was a bitch, especially after a sold-out show, so they used public transportation whenever possible.
“Their drummer is so hot,” Brooke murmured.
“You just like him because he’s blond.” Nicole shot her a smirk.
As they crossed the street and turned south, a muffled cry carried on the wind. Startled, the sisters exchanged a look before tip-toeing in the direction of the sound. From an alley up ahead, more noises filtered out: a thud, then a low chuckle and the sound of tearing cloth. A sick feeling formed in Nicole’s gut as the sounds coalesced in her mind, giving her a good idea of what was taking place mere feet away.
She peeked around the edge of the building. Ice shot through her veins. A woman was held down by one man, while another guy stood next to them, hands at his zipper. In the dim light from the lone streetlamp, a knife flashed silver at her throat.
Nicole turned back to Brooke in horror. “Shit, she’s being attacked!”
Brooke’s eyes widened, reflecting Nicole’s terror and outrage. “We have to help her.”
Nicole reached for her phone.
“No, that’ll take too long.” Brooke put a hand on her sister’s arm and gave her a piercing look. “We haven’t taken years of Tae Kwan Do for nothing.”
Nicole nodded, indignation replacing any lingering fear. These scumbags weren’t going to commit any crimes tonight. Side by side, she and Brooke stepped into the narrow mouth of the alley.
“Hey!” Brooke yelled. “Leave her alone!”
The man who was standing spun around and snarled, “What the fuck?”
The man holding the woman shoved her aside and darted toward them, knife in hand.
Brooke reacted in a heartbeat. When he got close, she stepped to the side and hooked his neck with her arm. Spinning him, she used his own momentum to knock him off balance. As his feet faltered, she extended her right leg and tripped him. She grabbed his knife hand at the wrist, and his weapon clattered to the ground.
He shot to his feet and lunged for Brooke’s throat. As she drew her hand back to drive the heel of her palm into his chin, the second man delivered a sharp kick to the back of her knee.
Fury ignited in Nicole’s brain. She glanced around for any hard object and spied an empty beer bottle. She lunged, snagging it in a fluid dip, and kept moving toward the second man. Stretching her arm back, she smashed the bottle over his head with all her strength. He cursed loudly and turned, cocking his arm for a punch.
How obvious.
Years of training kicked in. When his fist shot forward, she dodged to the side, and then grabbed his wrist on the recoil. She brought her free hand up to push hard against his elbow, pitting all her strength against the pressure point. He howled and swayed to the side.
Brooke had stumbled at the blow to her leg, but regained her balance with innate grace. She hovered in front of her opponent, whose pants were still undone.
“You pretty, bitch,” he slurred. “Too bad I gotta fuck you up.”
He charged, but Brooke was ready. She whirled her leg into a high arc, her foot slamming his jaw again. A satisfying crack filled the dark alley. As he slumped to the ground she turned to Nicole. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Nicole eyed the second man.
He backed up a step. “Fuck this shit.” With a look of wariness he dashed around them and took off down the street.
Ignoring the unconscious loser on the ground, the sisters turned to the woman. Tears streamed down her face and one eye was already swollen shut. A large purple bruise marred her face and dirt covered her torn blouse, but she managed to sit up. “Thank you,” she said hoarsely. “You...you’re angels.”
Brooke slid her arm around the woman’s shoulders and helped her stand. “Are you okay?” She studied the woman’s face.
“Yes, thanks to you. Now I gotta get home to my little girls.” Her voice broke on the last word.
“Do you want us to call someone?” Nicole asked.
“No. I’m gonna catch my bus, right over there.” She pointed to the mouth of the alley and shivered in the temperate night air, her rapid breaths slowing to shaky sighs.
“Can we take you to a hospital?” Nicole’s gaze swept up and down the woman’s form. She didn’t seem to have any serious injuries; then again, Nicole and Brooke hadn’t seen the entire incident.
“No. No hospitals. I’m not usually out this late, but I had to work a double. Another waitress was sick, and I took her hours because I need the money.” She wiped the last of the tears from her face.
After more insistence from the woman that she was fine, the sisters walked her to the bus stop and waited until she safely boarded. Then they walked one more block to catch their own bus.
“Whoa,” was all Nicole could say afterward. She and Brooke sat at opposite ends of the five-seat sectional that made up the last row of every CTA bus, their legs stretched out across the worn fabric. Her head reeled at what they’d just done. “We just beat up two guys.”
“Two guys who are lower than dirt and totally deserved it. Let’s do that again!” When Nicole gave her an incredulous look, Brooke added, “It’s not like we did much of anything to them. They’ll have a few bruises. And that woman is safe because of us.”
“Yeah, it did feel great to help someone.” Nicole frowned. “But what if they had guns?”
“We could learn to work around that. You’re right, we need to be careful–but most of these guys only know how to throw one kind of punch, or pull a trigger. We can take them down long enough to help their victims. And we could get our own weapons, just in case.”
Nicole folded her arms and waited for Part Two of her sister’s opinion.
She should’ve been the lawyer in the family.
“Think about it. This could be why we have our gifts. What if a strong gust of wind blows debris into some pimp’s eyes? Or what if he got soaked in a sudden rain and lost his grip on his gun?” Brooke’s gray eyes sparkled.
Nicole stared at her for several moments, thoughts swirling around her head. The chance to find a purpose behind the unusual talents she and her younger sister had been born with was too tempting to pass up. A slow grin spread across her face as she reached forward to slap Brooke’s raised hand in a high-five that echoed throughout the bus.
C
HAPTER
1
Three months later
N
ICOLE
STRETCHED
HER
legs under her desk, kicked off her shoes, and wiggled her toes. It was five PM on a sunny Friday afternoon, a long Labor Day weekend ahead of her. And she was using personal time off for the rest of the week.
Yes!
She smiled and swiveled her chair around to take in the view of Lake Michigan from her office high above Chicago’s bustling downtown streets. She loved the energy of the city as much as she loved the ever-changing moods of the lake.
“Nicole, are you heading out soon?” Her thoughts were interrupted by her friend Julie, the other staff attorney at the large insurance company. “Geez, I thought that meeting would never end.”
“Most meetings here are never-ending.” Nicole shook her head. “I have to bring the Perkins and Hansen files home with me. I’m almost ready. Let me just gather a few things together and I’ll walk out with you.”
“Cool.” Julie plopped down in the chair across from Nicole. “Bryce and I are going to that new club that just opened in Bucktown. You should come with us.”
“I’m too old for clubs.” Nicole clicked the icon that would copy the files to her flash drive.
“You did not just say that! Twenty-eight is most definitely not too old. C’mon, it’ll be fun. And you never know who you might meet.” Julie grinned. She and Bryce had met in a club several months ago and now were practically engaged. Nicole couldn’t fault her friend’s enthusiasm, but she had other plans for tonight. Plans that involved pounding the pavement, not a dance floor. Plans she didn’t share with her friends.
Copying finished, Nicole opted to avoid the invitation. She dropped the flash drive into her bag and slid her feet back into her heeled sandals. “Ready.”
Julie grabbed a piece of candy from the dish on Nicole’s desk before turning to follow her to the elevators. “I just think you need to have some fun. You’re always working, or working out.”
The brushed metal doors slid open, revealing several people already inside the small space. The women squeezed into the front. Nicole shrugged at Julie, silently invoking the rule of not continuing the conversation if there were other people in the elevator.
“So?” Julie asked when they reached the lobby and walked out into the early September heat.
The blast of humid, late-summer air relaxed Nicole’s muscles better than any massage. It felt like a warm smiling breath waiting for her, surrounding her. In spring and fall, the brisk wind would lift her hair slightly as if in greeting. And in winter, the chilled air served to remind her of its power, and her own.