CHAPTER 8, GRAVE OMEN

I wanted to share a chapter from Grave Omen, soon to be published just as soon as I get it sent to and then back from the editor. However, every single chapter in Grave Omen is thick with plot except one...

I've kept it no secret that Ruy and Raina's mother, Anna are getting married in the 3rd book.  This means the family is coming to town; elves, witches, wizards!  One wizard in particular is Everett, one of my new favorite characters.  He's a young man who dresses loudly; black, chains, heavy makeup, body piercings and tatoos all over his tanned skin.  Just the look of him scares folk.  In this chapter Raina must pick Everett up from the airport, as no taxi or shuttle service will give him a ride.

Chapter 8:

THE CLOUDS WERE dark and low in the sky, heavy with rain that was pouring down on us. We drove by all the taxis and shuttle vans that were dropping off people at the curb near the entrance to SeaTac's main terminal.  People who were picking people up were not allowed to park there.  The only reason I was driving through there was because I missed the entrance to the parking structure for the second time because no one would let me in the left lane.  It was Saturday evening and the entire airport was a madhouse of hurried people, impolite and uncaring.

Damon opted to pick up Thomas alone, something about wanting more father and son time.  And, Katie didn’t want to be home alone, so she came with me but she was still being quiet.  She plugged her ears with music and sat quietly beside me the entire way, only taking the headphones out when I began cursing at the airport traffic.

“Would it really cost them so much time just to let me in so we can fucking park!?” I ranted as we came around the loopy roads for the third time. “Goddess!” I shouted as I tried to move over, but the car in the left lane sped up.  If I kept merging I’d be sideswiped. What the hell was his issue? “Fuck this!” I slammed on the gas and pulled the steering wheel hard to the left.  If the guy really wanted to get in an accident over letting me over, fine by me.  Forced to slam on his breaks, he honked his horn, long angry and flashed his headlights at me.  I didn’t give a shit.   I was finally in the parking lane but I had to pull my steering wheel hard right to straighten out and ended up fish tailing it a bit. It was a maneuver I wouldn’t have done with Thomas in the car.

 

I smiled bitterly and looked to Katie.  Her eyes were wide and she was holding onto the bar over the door, rightfully nicknamed the Oh-shit-handle.

“Sorry,” I said through my smile.

“It’s okay.”  I frowned; she seemed so sad.

I slowed as we approached the parking structure and took my parking ticket from the machine, that then let the gate open and we drove through. Driving up and up a spirally concrete road gave me a feeling of nausea, both for the circular movement and our climbing height.  It was no secret that I feared heights; even just a few stories up I felt a deep seated dread fill me.  It made me sweaty and nervous. I parked the car as closed as I could get to the sky bridge that would let us walk over all the taxis and shuttles at the curb and enter the fourth floor of the main terminal.

“Did you want to wait here?” I asked Katie as I grabbed up my purse.

“No, no, I’ll come with you,” she stammered. 

Inside the terminal I closed my eyes tight as we rode the escalator to the fifth floor, where all the shops were located. 

“Is he waiting for us at a particular place, a gift shop or restaurant?” I heard Katie ask.

“No,” I said.  I stepped off the escalator with my eyes glued to the floor and took a few steps away from it before looking up.  The décor of SeaTac was very Washington State.  There was beautiful local metal art work and a huge mural of Mount Rainier.  There were totem poles and carvings of fish on the walls.  As we walked the crescent shaped building we found a tall water fountain in the middle and the heavenly scent of coffee throughout.

“How are we supposed to find your cousin in this crowd?” Katie asked when I stopped walking to buy some coffee at a small café near the water fountain.

“Everett isn’t hard to find, Katie.  Just keep a look out for a scary looking guy.  That will probably be him—then again, this is Washington.  We have a lot of scary looking guys,” I said to her before I told the man at the counter my order. My usual; a grande, soy milk, double shot, hazelnut macchiato with a caramel drizzle.  I gestured to Katie and she ordered a red-bull raspberry Italian soda. 

I smiled big time when I smelled my cousin before I felt his arm around my shoulder or saw his face.  He always smelt of burnt wood, like a camp fire, and sage.  It was an odd scent combination, not a bad one, but definitely unique. 

“You buying?” he asked with a southern brogue, and I looked up at him.  He was tall, something near six feet or more, and handsome in a rugged sort of way.  His hair was several different shades of green, short enough to stay off his shoulders but long enough to mostly hide his eyes. His skin was a tanned, almost mocha color, the sort of color one gets from living in the sun all their life.  But none of that was particularly scary.  No, I’d bet good money that what frightened the drivers was his pagan tattoos, his many piercings, his serious muscles and his bright red eyes. Any one thing was probably fine by its self, but altogether and I was surprised he was still allowed in the airport.  He did look very warlock-ish.  Looking past him I saw some airport security hovering around.  I looked back at him.  He was hiding his eyes with his hair on purpose.  I was lucky that my own red eyes were so easily forgiven because of my girly figure and approachable casual style of clothing; usually just a wrap-skirt and a blouse that flattered breast size (not an easy find) or jeans and a sweater or tank top. 

“Yeah,” I said with a smile.  He leaned into me, looking past me at the man taking our order and ordered himself an iced mocha with whipped cream. 

We stepped aside and let the next people in line move up as we waited for our order.

“No luggage?” I asked.

“Nah,” he said as he gestured to the small duffle bag he was carrying.  “And who is this fine lady?” he said with his eyes on Katie.

“Everett, this is Katie, my half sister,” I said.

“Charmed,” he said by way of greeting.

Katie looked up at him like he was, well a warlock.  She looked stunned. Everett smiled down at her.  He was probably used to getting that sort of reaction from people.

He extended his hand to her, “You aren’t a witch, are you?” he asked.

Katie shook her head and looked down at his hand, still a bit dazed. There was an awkward pause and then she took his hand.  He brought it to his lips and laid a kiss on her knuckles.  That made her already large doughy brown eyes grow even larger.

“Well, no one’s perfect,” he shrugged.  He turned to me.  “You look better than when I saw you last.  You filled in a bit, at least.”

“Too many sweets, I suppose.  But, I earned every one of them.”

“I heard,” he said as we grabbed our drinks.  “You’re a bounty hunter now.  You hunt witches?”

I led the way back to the parking structure. “Do you consider necromancers witches?” I asked, because some people did and others did not.  Necromancers have magic but they can only do one thing with it; manipulate the dead; zombies, ghouls, ghosts and vampires. 

“No,” he said.

“Then I’ve hunted a wizard only once,” I said.  “A man named Ethan who was raping children in Bellingham.  I took him out just a week ago actually.”

“You sure he was guilty?” Everett asked.  I understood his suspicions.  It was far too easy for a preternatural to be marked for death by any old court.  It doesn’t take a clever mind to think that human ran courts could be ordering marks on innocent none-humans out of prejudges.

“I wouldn’t have taken the case if he was innocent, Everett.  I’m a witch, not some racist killer.”

“Like most hunters,” he said.

I couldn’t argue with that, so I didn’t.  I didn’t like the hand full of hunters I’d met so far.  They did seem driven by their hate for none-humans and their love of the hunt.  I hated the hunt, I loved my fellow outcasts…but bad people come in all flavors all races and creeds. 

“Did you kill him?” he asked.

We were at the escalator now and I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before stepping onto it.  My knees went weak for a second but I regained my equilibrium.

“I didn’t want to,” I said with my eyes closed.  “I hunted him down to an ex-girlfriends place.  There was a lot of evidence against him.  All of it could have been planted, but I didn’t think so.  Everything about him felt off and when I found him he was with a boy. He’d already done the deed and even though I wanted to kill him so badly, I called the police instead.”

We stepped off the escalator and made our way across the sky bridge, fucking sky bridge.

“How did you keep him from running while you were on the phone?” Everett asked.  

I couldn’t answer him because I’d used the part of me that was part god to do that.  I used the muse in me, the part of me that could read emotions and minds and sometimes control them too.  In present company only Katie knew my secret, though, I guess if more than three people know, is it truly a secret? Katie, Damon, Alistair, Nick, Mom and Raphael all knew I was a demigoddess; not much of a secret.

Still, I wasn’t sure if it was mercy or cruelty on Katie’s part when she spared me having to answer Everett’s question, by asking her own.

“You said you didn’t want to kill him.  Does that mean you did have to kill him?” she asked.

We reached my car by now and I used the amount of time it took me to unlock the car and take my seat behind the wheel to think of how best to answer that question.

“The boy he’d stolen the day before was crying, blooded from the—abuse.  I held onto him.” The words were hard to come by.  It was only a week ago and I could still remember the smell in the room; sex, blood and sweat.  I could still feel the kid trembling in my arms; naked, bloody and screaming for his dad and mom.  I’d taken the job when the parents of the third victim contacted me and introduced me to their son.  He was the same age as Thomas, just as smart and just as sweet.  He’d been kidnapped from school and kept for weeks.  His body and mind were broken in ways that time could never heal.  I knew right then that I was going to kill this man, but I hoped I could just have him arrested. It was a lost hope. The boy in my arms was the fourth victim, and the last.  I knew I could kill the wizard and no one would give a shit.  Hell, they’d praise me for doing it.  The boy would feel better if his tormentor was dead and gone.  The other victims would too.  My conscience said no, wait for the police.  He’d be arrested, and then killed without trial, but they would kill him humanly.  They would spare him pain, pain he’d caused four innocent boys, four young children whose lives would be forever changed, whose bodies would be forever scared.  I hated that man more than anything and Goddess help me, I filled him full of lead.  He was helpless, frozen where he stood because I told him that he was and I killed him.  I pulled out my brand new, barely been used small hand gun that Damon insisted I carry even though I was a horrible shot and I walked up to him, point blank range and pulled the trigger.  I kept pulling that trigger until the damn thing clicked empty and it felt great to do it. 

But, I couldn’t say all that.  I was ashamed that I’d murdered a man in cold blood, no matter how evil. I licked my lips.  “Like you said, I couldn’t stop him from running,” I said before I turned the ignition and started the car.  If my body language didn’t convey just how much I was done with that conversation, the loud heavy metal music did the job just fine.