Elle Jasper - Everdark

“How’re the sheaths Preach made for your blades?” Phin asked.

I nodded. “Feels great. I barely even know they’re there.” I took another swig of juice. I knew Zetty carried silver; was pretty sure Jack and Tuba did, too, amongst other Gullah stuffs.

“Yeah, mine, too,” said Seth, never even glancing away from his game.

“Good,” Phin said. “Jack brought his truck. Tuba will ride with him. Josie and Seth can ride with me. We’ll split the bikes and gear between the two trucks. Luc and Zetty can ride with you and Eli,” he said to me. I nodded.

“We’ll drive straight there and set up,” Eli said. “Then a quick tour of the city.” He regarded me. “Maybe not so quick. How long has it been since you were in Charleston?”

I thought. “A while. Maybe last June? Even then, I didn’t know my way around town, except how to get to the battery, and city market.”

Eli regarded me. “You’ll know it well by tonight.”

“Yes, I guess I will,” I said. I squatted down to say good-bye to Chaz, holding his fuzzy face between my hands. “I promise you some quality time when I get home. In the meanwhile, you be good for Nyx. Go take a nap; she’ll be here before you wake up,” I said to the dog, and allowed his big, slobbery lick across my cheek. I kissed his muzzle, scrubbed him between the ears, and stood. I grabbed my bags and said, “Let’s go.” Eli quickly relieved me of them. “I got these,” he said. Even when going to fight vamps, he was a gentleman.

We hit the lights and left. Outside, a thick, muggy fog hung over the city and wrapped around us. I had the top off the Jeep; I preferred it that way. Within fifteen minutes we had both Phin’s and Luc’s bikes and gear loaded and were pulling out onto Bay Street. Phin led the way in his black Ford F-150, both bikes strapped in the bed, followed by Jack in his wicked-restored blue ’59 Chevrolet, and trailed by me.

“Nice creepy morning, huh?” Luc said from behind me as we sat at the red light. “Reminds me of the old days, before electricity. Nothing but gas lamps throughout the city.” He looked at me in the rearview mirror. “You could hear them hissing as you passed by. Remember that, Eli? Ahh, the clop-clop of the horse’s hooves on the cobbles, the hissing gas lights.” He leaned his head on the seat rest and sighed. He turned and looked at me. “Not that I’d give up cell phones and hot water for it.”

I grinned. “Don’t blame ya.”

Zetty remained silent.

“The hissing gas lights were pretty cool,” Eli offered.

The light changed, I eased off the clutch, built up speed, and shifted into second gear. It wasn’t light out yet, and a filmy haze hung over the city. I felt irritable, anxious, and edgy. I wanted this to be over. I missed . . . normalcy. And it was time for my period.

“Oh,” Luc said, nodding, apparently reading my thoughts. “Gotcha.”

I shot him a glare. “Put your seat belt on.” I shot Zetty a similar one. “You, too.” A final one I shot at Eli, who’d already started to pull his on. “That’s better.” He merely grinned.

I glared at Luc in the rearview mirror. In the early-morning light, his skin nearly blended with the fog. He smiled and did as I asked. “Sure thing, babe.” Zetty also complied, but silently. I learned that most of the time the Tibetan didn’t have a whole lot to say.

Once we pulled out onto Interstate 16, I flipped the stereo on, shoved in a Drowning Pool CD, and cranked the volume to rise over the wind. “More Than Worthless” rocked us all the way to the Interstate 95 exit where we headed north. More than once I glanced at Eli, who silently returned my look. His hand rested on my thigh. We didn’t talk. Luc was pretending to be asleep; I suppose he was simply enjoying the ride. His crazy long hair blew all over the place, a content, peaceful look settling into his flawless features. And as the morning light grew stronger, it winked off the silver hoop in his lip.

“Flawless, huh?” he hollered over the wind. “Thanks, babe.”

“Stay out of my noggin,” I yelled back. He smiled. We continued on.

Ten miles later, my fuel light flashed. “Wanna call Phin and Jack? I need gas,” I said. Luc pulled his cell from the pocket of his baggy cargo shorts and called his brother. At the next exit, I pulled into a Sunoco and stopped at one of the empty pumps. Phin, Jack, and Tuba pulled in and parked near the exit. Eli unbuckled his belt to get out. “I got it,” I said, and waved him down. “Won’t take but a sec.” Eli stared at me for a moment, then gave a nod, and I slid from my seat. Only then did I notice the debit card feature wasn’t working. “Please see manager inside” was written on little white pieces of paper, on all the pumps. “Damn,” I muttered, tempted to drive off and choose another gas station. Instead, I started across the parking lot. One pickup truck and a semitruck, parked in the back, were the only other vehicles around. I pushed inside and walked up to the counter where a middle-aged woman, rail-thin with hard life written all over her, gave me a nod.

“Mornin’,” she said in a smoker’s raspy voice. Her gaze went to my dragon-inked arms.

I handed her my debit card. “Forty on number three,” I said, then thought better of it. “Wait.” My ravenous appetite kicked in, and I suddenly wanted junk. Turning up the candy aisle, I grabbed a handful of Chick-O-Sticks, a bag of salt and vinegar chips, and a package of those cupcakes with waxy icing on top and gooey white cream in the middle. While debating on a pouch of spicy roasted peanuts, I felt a presence behind me. I glanced; a pair of big, dirty knobby-toed boots stood close. Too close.

It happened all too fast.

“Drop the shit and get up. Nice and slow,” the voice belonging to the nasty boots said. His hand grasped my ponytail and pulled, slowly but firmly. “And don’t cause a scene. I know you got boys outside.”

I momentarily closed my eyes. “Are you freaking kidding me?” I said under my breath. I left my junk food in a pile on the floor and slowly rose. “Dude, you really don’t want—”

“Shut up,” the voice commanded. “To the back of the store. Exit door by the head. Do it now, bitch.” I felt the cold press of steel against my ribs through my shirt. “I’ll stick you if you make a sound.”

Even before I’d been introduced to my new tendencies, or to the vampiric world, humans hadn’t scared me. This guy, with his knife that he’d stick me with, damn sure didn’t scare me. He was a loser punk who hung out at gas stations robbing people on the interstate. He was the very least of my problems. But something wasn’t right. It wasn’t three o’clock in the morning. It wasn’t the middle of the night. It was like when you noticed a nocturnal animal, like a raccoon, out in the middle of the day, you knew something was wrong. That raccoon had to be sick. This guy had to be sick. Not wanting to cause the cashier any stress, I did as he asked; I’d take care of him out back, get my junk food, gas, and leave.

I eased out the exit door, and a second later, the idiot followed.

Before the door closed, I swung my leg high and around, knocked the knife from his hand, and shoved him hard against the concrete wall. It was the first look I’d had at him, other than his booted feet. My height, stocky, and appearing to be late twenties, he wore an Atlanta Braves baseball cap pulled down over a burred head of sandy hair. He wore shades.

Just that fast, he turned and knocked me to the ground. I managed to sweep him with my leg before I hit. I landed on my backside. He landed on his backside. His shades fell off. Opaque eyes stared hard and angry back at me.