Chapter 1:1 A Bad Luck Cat, Xoxo Nyx 

 

…. Twenty Years Later ….

I know what you must be thinking. Why?

Why would you, retired veteran and practical shut in, Kinsley Nyx Knight, be hiding behind a hedge too tall in a skirt too small? Donned in a jacket that has too many wrappy straps to know what to do with? Let alone one in front of a conglomerate that can get you black listed from every decent job in this city?

Nicky. That’s right. You guessed it. Just like everything else that has gone wrong since I got back to Haven, this is all my orphan brother Roman Nikolai Cross’ fault!

Ever since the little imp named me after the stray cat outside our orphanage, whenever something smashes, crashes, cracks or breaks, I’m certain to be in the epicenter of said kerfuffle. 

My current predicament of running through the Upper East Side in stripper wear for a working interview is unfortunate, but something I can live with. Lucy as well as Ryan reassured me that this is what corporate ladies wear, so I’ll go with it. 

Believe me, weirder things have happened in my life.

Still, having to dive in a bush, spill the best coffee I’ve ever tasted down my borrowed silk blouse, all to hide from Nicky’s latest attempt at returning my fate......

Oooooo. If that were only the half of it!

Beyond every other slight God laid against me, the newest is finding out that I’m an Aspie, a person with ASD Autism Spectrum Disorder, in the form of Asperger’s. I suppose it wasn’t enough for the Creator to put me together backwards and make me the only blue-eyed honey blonde in a sea of dark haired, dark eyed, perfect skinned Transylvanian's.

Regardless of our good Lord, never giving anyone more than they can handle, there are times I wish he were far less generous, if not confident in my capability to overcome. Especially choosing the moment I get a medical discharge from the military to reveal that he wired me wrong on top of the rest.

OCD, ASD, PTSD, and every other letter in the alphabet applies to me after being abandoned as a baby, illegally imported like produce, and spending twenty years on the front lines of the bloodiest war our nation has ever had. 

The Carpathian Mountains is a truly wild, if not superstitious place. Near every Romanian believes that they are cursed, and knows the saying, este în sânge în engleză. It’s in the blood. 

That’s not my excuse though. 

Not entirely. 

The Gypsies, also known as ‘wanderers’ told me every one had a birth name and a true name. One that was given to them by their families when they turned thirteen. For some reason, the most unlucky number, signaled adulthood to many cultures. 

Regardless, even I knew better than to question, let alone defy actual witches. 

So when the singular friend I ever made turned thirteen, I gave him the best name I could think of. Nikolai. As in Nikolai Vlademyre. The unofficial King in our region. So sure that when it came my time to be named I’d get full reciprocity. Ending my bad luck for good. 

While all names have power, true names can work for you rather than against you. So when the day came, I couldn’t have been more excited. The Witch truly could have chosen anything. Someone powerful, brave, graceful, beautiful, but NO! Instead, he names me after the cataclysmic kitten! 

The stray the two of us fed outside our orphanage got the name of the primordial goddess of night due to her black fur and pension for mischief. No, she never went looking for it, but if anything smashed, crashed, cracked or broke, poor Nyx was right in the middle of said kerfuffle. 

Nicky said that it was her sweet nature and big blue eyes that made him do it! Ha! He was just jealous that no matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t achieve naturally blonde locks like mine. Much to my chagrin. 

More infuriating was when I tried to take his back. Name him after a toad instead, Nicky just laughed. Said that once given a name couldn’t be undone. 

Even so, he’s a witch king. 

Anything Nicky decides he’s made happen since we were kids. So if I make it through my current predicament. No way I don’t ride the broomstick he gave me for Wonderlight all the way back to Crest and beat him with it! 

After getting me black listed from the hospital in Crest. Nicky’s latest nonsense is interfering with my ability to get to a working interview at a Vet’s office. Not a veteran like me but an actual DVM.

I do understand that he’s upset. If not worried about me living on my own. After all, he and Alex more or less spent the last two years, teaching me to read, write, walk, talk and use the toilet on my own again.

Still, I was only a fully developed infant when I came out of my coma. As the swelling went down, the rest came back naturally. Not my memories, but the basics. Including my know how as a former physician.

I also passed every competency test there was. Proving that I’m back to being a full-grown adult after eighteen months of rehab. Along with three months of working right along doctor fancy pants at his hospital in Crest.

So he can’t tell me I’m not capable of an honest day’s work. Of Finding a new career after the military and standing on my own two feet. Nicky was the one who recommended I start as a research analyst in the first place.

At least until I completed the exams and practice hours required to get my Physician’s license back. One I don’t want, but he was too busy setting me with a married man to listen.

I never had any feelings one way or another on dating sites or people meeting via the internet. Not until the blasted Witch made me a fake dating profile. This has to be Nicky’s demented version of a pager, if not a foot stamp, considering I haven’t called him back since the Apes of the Caribbean incident.

He’s still able to track every step I take somehow. Sending new hoards of circus performers after me daily since I moved to the city and went radio silent. Believe me, the Witch meddling in my ‘dating life’ is not out of a sense of concern in any respect.

It’s just his need for as much drama as entertainment in the no horse town of five hundred residents. A town he claims, ‘hasn’t been the same since I left.’ Even if it weren’t for Brian I’d be here and not Crest.

I may have joined the Allied Forces at eighteen, but it was always my hope to come back to one day. This place is as exciting and beautiful as it is magnetic. I really can’t explain what’s so alluring about Haven, but considering it’s up there with Paris, Rome, Hawaii and all the other must-see tourist traps of the world. I’m not alone in the fascination.

I do realize that Nicky and I were run out of the best city in the world, in the worst way possible during the draft, but that was just a few bad eggs. Not Haven itself. It’s also not like the Witch can’t get on his broomstick and be here in a few hours either. 

Even if the tweedle twap twerp takes the bullet train, it’s not that far.

Insult to injury, he can actually afford a ticket with his promotion to Chief of Staff. Unlike me, who will continue to ignore his temper tantrum via otherworldly, if not humiliating summons.

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