“I’m not ready to go home,” I blurt out over Koda’s embarrassed snarls.
I round the corner and look down the street. The upscale restaurants have begun to shut down as the bars and clubs come to life. No, I’m not ready to go home.
Just as I’m not ready to spend the night alone.
Chapter Three
Emme
My phone slides nicely into its designated pocket. Shayna wanted to come for me. Mercifully she didn’t press. She realized I needed time away from the house.
Out of all my sisters, I’m closest to Shayna. As hard as she tries though, it’s difficult for her to relate to what I’m going through. She doesn’t have to trudge through the muddy waters of dating. I do, and my flowery galoshes continue to stick to the gross floor.
My mind wanders, picking through the shift of events. The evening spun from nice to nightmarish as quickly as a top. If I didn’t possess the power I do, I would have walked away a victim. Ted would have moved on to the next female he felt worthy of his presence and attempted to wow her with his juggling expertise. He wouldn’t have given me another thought. Now, he will, and perhaps think twice about mistreating another female. Oh, and that sinister presence, whatever it was, could have harmed me. I never would have thought to go after something so vile if my abilities couldn’t fend off an enemy.
I wince when a pang of pain reminds me there’s still healing to perform and magic to call upon. I lift my right hand, my expression softening as pale-yellow light forms on my palm and spreads along my fingertips, soothing away the residual ache from slapping Ted.
I surprised myself by striking him. Violence and aggression aren’t attributes I possess. Please don’t misunderstand, I’ve killed in defense of myself and others, but doing so hasn’t assuaged me from guilt. Despite my gentle touch, there’s blood on my hands, and all the good I’ve done won’t wash the stains from my skin or mind.
“Don’t do this to yourself,” I whisper.
I shake out my hand as well as the remorse that haunts my dreams. I need to focus on the present if I’m ever to have a future, and if I’m to help protect Celia.
Celia. My oldest sister and my hero. She and Aric are expecting their first child. Of course, like with everything life has given us, there is nothing simple about her pregnancy. The baby she carries is prophesized to save the world from an uprising and evil. That’s a startling expectation to aspire to. Poor baby. And poor Celia.
After months of worrying whether her baby was growing, the little bundle of joy grew in a magical burst. Celia went from a barely-there baby bump, to really showing. It was beautiful and frightening all at once.
As if on cue, my phone buzzes, and a text from Celia appears.
Hey, sweetie. Shayna just texted me and told me what happened. Aric isn’t familiar with this wolf, but he will be and so will I.
I crinkle my nose. If Ted is a member of Aric’s pack, he’ll be dealt with and it won’t be pretty. If Celia finds him first, it will be worse. Pregnant or not, Celia is scary.
No need, Celia. And please don’t think about returning home. Enjoy your weekend with Aric. Please. I’m safe and I’ll be all right.
The extra please is necessary and what it takes for her to agree to let it go, at least for now. The part about being all right isn’t exactly true. But I will be.
I return my phone to its pocket and continue my walk. The breeze from the lake bats at my white flowy skirt. I shudder, although it’s not from the magic the lake carries. Celia was always sensitive to the lake’s magic. Me, I’m just cold.
It’s cooler for July than I’m accustomed to and my sleeveless dress exposes my arms. I would have brought a sweater had I known the evening would mimic fall instead of summer. I glance over my shoulder when something pokes at my senses, alerting me that it’s not just the temperature causing me to tremble.
Well-kept walkways that lead to small boutiques and casual bistros stretch out the length of the block. As far as company, I remain the only guest at the party. I maneuver around another puddle. My feet barely reach the other side when I quickly turn, expecting to find someone lurking close by.
There aren’t footsteps or voices, just a presence. I stop, waiting for someone, anyone, to appear; a shop owner locking up for the night or a resident skipping out of her apartment to take advantage of her youth and the nightlife.
There’s nothing. But something all at once.
It’s a different sensation than what I felt at Ted’s apartment. There’s no fear alerting me to run or that primal warning that screams of danger. Whatever I feel isn’t evil or hateful. It simply is.
I glance back more than once. Tahoe isn’t generally considered a largely ghost-inhabited region. There are certainly hot spots for paranormal activity and wandering spirits have a way of making their presence known. But a spirit isn’t what I feel. It takes another block and a few more cautious steps before the feeling of being tracked lessens and ultimately fades away.
Rain had come and gone earlier this afternoon. The remains of the steady showers that threatened to turn into storms only apparent in the moist air and along the small pools of water reflecting the full moon’s dull white rays.
Ahead of me, a couple crosses the street holding hands and speaking quietly. Their night only just began. Mine may come to an abrupt close if I don’t find who I’m searching for.
There are single women in my position who would give up after an experience like I had with Ted. They’d call
