Jivaja (Soul Cavern Series Book 1) Page 28
He didn’t argue with her, but stood and nodded to Will as the younger man stepped into the room. A blue nylon backpack perched on Will’s back.
“Come by the house whenever you’d like,” her dad said. “I have a spare key for you whenever you’re ready.”
“Okay. Thanks a lot.”
He just nodded and left the room.
“This wasn’t the best time, was it?” Will asked as he pulled a chair over to her bedside.
“As good a time as any.” Mecca smiled. She couldn’t help it. Something about him brought that reaction.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I had the hell beat out of me from the inside out.”
“Well, I suppose you did.” His smile wasn’t perfect, a bit lopsided and one of his side teeth was crooked. But the flaws made it more endearing.
“I like that you’re asking me for yourself, rather than for her.”
The gentle way his lips curved up made her feel good.
“I like that too.” He reached over and brushed his fingertips across the top of her IV-bound hand. The tingle washed through her. Nothing supernatural, at all.
They sat quietly for a little bit, not looking at each other, but it didn’t feel at all awkward. Finally, Mecca spoke. “The doctor said I should be healed up in a couple months, all together. I guess that’s okay.”
“It could have been worse.”
“Yes, I could be dead.”
He nodded, his sea green eyes bright.
“Will, what are you going to do now?”
“Hang out with your dad, I suppose.” He looked very serious for a second, then a grin lit his face.
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Don’t be a smartass. You know what I mean.”
Will shrugged off his backpack and let it fall to the floor beside his chair. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll just take it one day at a time and live until I die.”
“Isn’t there some way? I mean, can’t we do something?”
“Claude has already said he won’t take me in. I’m really not interested in approaching any of the others in the city. I didn’t really want Claude either, but at least he’s the evil I know.”
Mecca wasn’t sure that Claude was the evil Will knew. But she didn’t want to argue the point. “How long do you have?”
“I’ve no idea. We never tested it.” That lopsided smile again.
“Maybe I can help you. Maybe my Gift…”
“I suppose we could try, but I don’t think it’s the same thing at all. Be honest. After feeling what you felt of her and of me, do you think it would work?”
She didn’t think it would. She hated that he knew she didn’t.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve lived a very long life. Longer than any man could expect.”
“But you were a prisoner.”
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good life.” The flippant grin had gone, replaced by a kind smile. “Besides, what would I do now anyway? My era is long gone.”
“You could continue your medical training. You could become a doctor!” Mecca hated the desperation in her voice. Jesus, she sounded like a whiny teenager. But dammit, she didn’t want him to die.
Will rested his hand on her arm. His palm warmed her skin. “Are they releasing you today?”
Both glad and annoyed at the change in subject, she nodded. “I think so, this afternoon.”
“Okay. How about I go by your dad’s and get my key, and then I’ll pop back here and sit with you until they’re ready to cut you loose. It’ll give you some time to rest too.”
“Okay. Don’t let my dad come with you though. It’s bad enough I have to stay there until I can get around on my own again.”
Will nodded as he stood up and grabbed his backpack. He stared at her, his expression tender. When he leaned down, Mecca closed her eyes. His lips brushed against her forehead. When she looked at him again, he was smiling down at her.
“Get some rest. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.” She watched him retreat to the door. “Will?”
He turned back, one corner of his mouth tilted up with the remains of his half-smile.
“I still want to try.” She flushed hot and quickly added, “With the Gift, I mean.”
He tilted his head and a soft brown curl slid along his forehead. The half-smile turned into a full one. “Okay. We'll try.”
THE END
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Sneak Peek: Blue-Edged Soul
Ken tried not to tighten his grip on the armrests as the airplane's braking pushed him forward in his seat. He hated landings the most. Intellectually, he understood the plane would not flip head over ass on the runway. But still he also understood his knuckles were white without even seeing them.
When the plane finally slowed to what felt like less-than-sonic speeds, a tinny chime rang through the cabin. "Welcome to London. We have a slight delay at the gate. We may be a moment or two. You may now turn on your electronic devices…"
Ken tuned the cabin attendant out and released the poor hand rests. He'd lucked out and not had a middle seatmate for the long flight. Usually his luck ran in the other direction. He thought he should have bought a lottery ticket before leaving New Orleans.
The businessman on the aisle ignored him as pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket and powered it up. His row-mate had spent the entire flight ignoring Ken as much as possible. And that had been fine.
They'd come around to the gates, but judging from the number of planes lined up in front of them — four — they were, indeed, going to be a moment or two.
David: Call me as soon as you land.
David was often curt when they spoke, but since they’d talked right before the plane took off eight hours ago, he had trouble imagining what his brother might need so soon.
In a frantic phone call less than twenty-four hours ago, David had asked Ken to drop everything and fly to London to help protect Carolyn and Jenny Barron — the wife and daughter of David's best friend. Protect them from… Well, that was the thing, wasn't it?
Ken and David didn't generally have a relationship that allowed for "drop everything and leave the country" types of favors. But here Ken was, touched down in London. And while the tale David had told seemed far-fetched — vampire-like creatures kidnapping Ken’s niece, Mecca — Ken had never known David to embellish about something like this. So, again, here Ken was in London.
And moving up to third in line.
He unlocked his phone and poked his brother’s face. One ring had barely finished when David's sharp tone answered. "Good. Finally. Have you found them yet?"
"No," Ken said, doing his best not to be sarcastic about his inability to teleport from the plane to wherever Carolyn and Jenny were. "I just landed. We're waiting on the tarmac for a gate."
David let out a huge sigh. "Okay. Okay.” After a moment, he said, “I've got Mecca."
Ken’s breath caught in his throat. "What? You do? Is she okay?" That had been fast. He tried very hard not to think this might all have been a great big prank. He knew it wasn't. But there was still the niggling idea that it could have been.
When David had called him in the middle of the afternoon to tell him that Mecca had been kidnapped, Ken hadn't known how to even respond to it. So he'd listened to the story David told about a group of… vampires? Not vampires exactly, but something. These somethings had kidnapped Mecca.
And they weren't demanding money. David didn’t have any idea what they wanted.
Ken had argued with him about coming to Atlanta, but his brother had instead asked him to go to London to protect the Barron women, who David said were probably also targets of this group of… people.
But now Mecca was free. The relief had brought tears to his eyes he hadn’t noticed, until now. He swiped them away and cast a sidelong glance at his row-mate. No reaction.
David barked out a short laugh. "Yeah. She escaped. Got out all by herself. We're crashing at a friend's house for the night. But…” His voice got both softer and had a strange, gruff quality to it. “I need to tell you something."
Ken waited for David to actually tell him something. "Okay…?"
Silence on the other end still, but David’s breath came through loud and clear. Finally, his brother said, "Jim is dead."
Ken didn't understand how to process that. Jim was the name of Carolyn Barron's husband. Also, David's best friend. Also, the father of Mecca's best friend. Also, the man who'd sent Carolyn and Jenny to London in the first place. To protect them.
He leaned toward the window and dropped to a whisper. "Wait a minute. What do you mean, dead?"
"Mecca and I got to his house and…" The hitch in his voice was something Ken had never heard before.
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The Soul Cavern Series
Jivaja
Blue-Edged Soul
Visci
Venessa Giunta
Venessa Giunta is a writer of weird things. She holds an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University and has worked on the editorial side of publishing for a decade. Her non-fiction essay “Demystifying What Editors Want” can be found in the book, Many Genres, One Craft.
She is active in convention life, having held a number of organizational positions over the years and is currently Director of the WRITE Track at Multiverse Con in Atlanta, and Second to the Director of the Writers Track at Dragon Con, a SF/F fan convention with more than 80,000 attendees.
Venessa lives with her hubby in Atlanta, Georgia, and shares a home with three cats who all seem to think they rule the castle, but none of which pay the mortgage.
Follow her on Twitter @troilee or check out her website at https://www.venessagiunta.com/, where you can find lots of good info for writers, especially.