Evander stepped out of the shower. He had never felt comfortable with Clara’s parents, not because they were the overly strict or the snobby type. It was more related to the fact that he felt like he was veering too close to danger anytime he spent time with her parents. They were warming up to him. He did not want that, he did not deserve that. He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his phone ring. He wrapped a towel around his slender waist, walked to the bedroom and picked up the phone from the night stand. The call ended as he was about to answer the phone. He was about to call the unsaved number back when the phone beeped, a text coming in. It is done, it read. His shoulders visibly relax. Now that the first step was out of the way, all that was left to his to do was to wait for Thomas’s next message. He kind of felt bad for Clara though. Even though he was certain she was the one spoken of in the prophesy, he wish he did not have to go about it this way. She did not des
It had been exactly seven months since the incident at the parking lot. Clara still had a hard time believing that all of it had really happened and she was not having a sick, twisted nightmare. And she would have been sure it was just that, a nightmare, if she wasn’t still seeing countdowns above everyone’s heads, including Evander’s. She would have thought it was a sick joke her mind was playing on her if she wasn’t still having that dream. Every night since she had been discharged from the hospital, she would see a figure, a shadow, calling to her. She never got a face to match the body she saw but she had a feeling she knew this person from somewhere, somehow, which was in itself absurd. Some days it had seemed like the lady was yearning for her, others it had seemed like she was trying to whisper something to her. She could feel the last threads of her sanity slipping away but she held on, she held on for as best she could. If she was going to eventually run mad, she was not go
Somehow and by some insane luck, it had turned out that her parents’ connection came in handy. Their friend at the university that had informed them about her paying the acceptance fee was none other than the personal assistant or personal secretary to the Vice Chancellor himself. She would have unintentionally revoked her admission to Easton University had the lady, Mrs Stanford, not pulled some strings to buy her time. Apparently that time was over now judging by the letter from Mrs Stanford written on it in bold, italic letters. She had gotten a similar one two weeks after she was discharged having spent a week in the hospital. It read: “Good day Clara, I'm Mrs Emily Stanford, the personal assistant to the vice chancellor and a close friend of your parents. We attended Easton together and I am so sorry for what happened. They were pretty amazing people to have as friends and I would miss them so much. Anyways, I wrote this to let you know that if you need anything, and I mean a
Clara woke up screaming, her sheets drenched with sweat, tears pooling from her eyes. What was that? Why was her look-alike there lying lifeless? It made no sense. Her dreams always had nebulous connotations, vague, she might even say uncertain but there was a force to this particular dream, clear as day. As much as she would have loved to forget, it was etched, engraved in her mind, an horrific sight that was simply unforgettable. She kept reminding herself that it was nothing but a dream amidst bated breaths. She chanted even as she scanned the bedroom and her shoulders sagged slightly seeing the familiar plastic table opposite her maroon covered bed and the inflated chairs. She glanced at the quartz clock that stood high in the white coated wall opposite the bed. It was just a few minutes past two am. The moon had yet to bid its farewell, sending silvery simmers down the window pane. There was almost three hours before her flight. She needed more sleep if she wanted to function e
He could not believe Lucian was there. Why the hell had he been beside Clara? He had walked into the room to be faced by the last sight he thought he could ever be tortured with. With her attention on Lucian, she was completely oblivious to anyone that could have walked in. He cannot let the past repeat itself. He would not give in to initiating a conversation with a person that did not exist. At least, not in his mind. He stared him dead in his eyes, unable to pull his gaze away from the now-squared jaw, so unlike he remembered it being. Unlike in the past, Lucian had given in, letting his fiery, hateful gaze drop as he stormed out of the room without a word, making sure to avoid any form of physical contact. He had wanted so badly to quiz Clara about why he was there and what her relationship was with him but he was in no position to ask and she was not in the best frame of mind at the moment. No sane person would be. So he settled to ask what had happened, trying his best to ke
Evander was back in Dragor, a town easily overlooked by the populace but not by inhabitants of Yorkshire like himself, especially not the shifters. Dragor had the quickest and safest doorway to Yorkshire. He took a path he knew all too well, leaving the sailors behind him, but still, the smell of fish and the words of the sailors stayed with him. He passed through an almost empty street lined by houses of various colors with one exception. A wooden cabin which looked as new as the day it was built, never ageing a day or losing a door or window, stood not too far off. He took the final steps to the door, ignoring the stares he could feel on his back. ‘The cabin’ from what he had heard through whispers from time to time, had contributed to folklore told by the people of Dragor. Apparently, a witch lived there and if you ever went in, you never came back out. Evander could understand why they would think so, seeing as the very cabin was a portal to Yorkshire and whoever came here never r
Evander and Agrippa had spent hours talking about everything and anything. Deep in Evander’s mind, he knew he needed to head for the capital, but he just wasn’t ready to give way to the weight he carried around before coming to Agrippa’s store.“I’ve missed you and all but I know you aren’t here just for me. I wish it were that way but it is you after all. So what’s up? Why did you come back?” Agrippa questioned knowing whatever it was had to be very important if Evander felt the need to come back.Evander made a motion of protecting his heart as he let his laughter die out, remembering the very reason he was here. Just the thought of what this visit could mean was enough to kill what little flower of happiness had been brought back to life for a few seconds.Agrippa always the observant witch didn’t miss the change in his mood, especially with frown lines branding his otherwise handsome face. “I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry.” She immediately apologized feeling stupid for ruining the
The walk down the straight path leading to Ametis, land of the time shifters, was a long one. It, however, gave Evander just the right amount of time to think of his next move. There was no way Agrippa would help him now. He remembered a witch Agrippa had been close to growing up. He couldn’t quite place a pin on her name but he knew the direction to her house like the back of his palm. He had dragged Agrippa from the very hut countless times when she would go to learn about potions and dusts despite being a traveler witch. He could almost laugh at the memory of a chubby kid pulling at his forearm to run back into the brightly painted hut. He could think of no one else he could call family that stuck by him through the trial and even after. He would apologize to Agrippa but he needed to do see Thomas first. He had to make sure the past century of his life had not been wasted serving a megalomaniac.He arrived at a second entrance that day. The entrance to his hometown, a land filled
“Breathe, Clara," Lucian said, getting on his knees.He held her hands and her trembling stilled, as her eyes met his. He wanted to look away, at anything but those grey abyss but he couldn’t bring himself to. She stared at him like she wanted to remain there but also wanted to die. They had been so lost in each other that they hadn’t notice her breathing slowing and her shaking stopping. Clara felt much better but didn’t make a move to move away or take her hand back either. She felt comfortable with him and oddly enough, dare she say, safe?Lucian noticed that her hand laxed against his, bringing back an image from few months ago when she had been having a mental breakdown. That had been the first time he had held her hand and the familiar connection repeated itself. Who was she and why did he feel this uncontrollable pull to her? Why her and not someone not already involved with Van? Not someone he’d be risking his job being around, not someone he was starting to feel something he
"Aside from him visiting after so many years, what else that made you think your bestie could be the one working with Mars? I mean why not suspect one of the witches? It is their hometown after all," he questioned.Evander was not stupid as to form an alliance with someone whose wife he was entangled with, most especially not someone like Mars who was known for being utterly ruthless when it came to punishing offenders and betrayers alike.“I know what you’re thinking. Evander is not that stupid.” Wait, Evander? As in her Evander?! Clara pressed her ears harder against the desk, straining to hear more. If she was caught at this point, she didn’t care, she was too far gone at this point. She couldn’t have heard that right, right? Had to be another Evander, not hers. Hers knew nothing about any supernatural nonsense and most of all would never sign to a unison with someone even these two didn’t trust. Her Evander was sweet, thoughtful and definitely was no side dude to any bimbo!Just
Peeking from the side of the desk, she could see a big breasted blonde woman. She walked in like she owned the place, wearing a skirt shorter than Clara’s short shorts. Clara was sure she had seen that face somewhere on campus before but could no remember where exactly that was. She looked too young to be a college lecturer but what if she was?! Shit! Clara ducked deeper into the desk when the lady was a few steps away. She heard shuffling above her, deepening her curiosity. No, it just wasn’t possible. Did Mr Snowe have a girlfriend or worse, wife?! She hadn’t even thought in that direction in all her mindless drooling. But again, she looked too young. Wait, why did that matter now? Most importantly, why was she thinking about that now? If you have a potential lecturer’s wife going through said lecturers files above you while you’re on nothing but short shorts and hoodie, you think about how to survive with an ounce of your dignity intact and not think about your chances with said l
He watched her pick her things, his eyes drifting ever so slightly to the widening of her hips as she bent to pick up the handout she had dropped on a desk earlier. He couldn’t help but be drawn to the sway of her full hips as she strutted out of the hall. He had wanted so badly to stop her or say anything that would, but his faculties were still intact and couldn’t let him do so. Just a second longer and he would have known how those plump lips would feel against his.Would she pull away or would she melt against him, he wondered. He had not intended to close the distance between them but when it happened and he could see the desire coursing through his veins reflected in her eyes, he couldn’t help but wonder what explosion of pleasure awaited him should he choose to think with everything else but his brain.He cursed as he swept a sweaty palm through his hair frustrated at how she had once again clouded his thoughts. What was she doing to him? He had gone decades without so much
“Uh maybe we continue this some other time?” Clara offered creating some much needed distance between her and the reason for the ache between her thighs. An attempt at escape, maybe, but she didn’t need it. He hadn’t move a single inch closer.She pulled her hands to her side, picked up her notes and handout, and walked the final steps out of the auditorium. Their private lesson long forgotten, but something else proving more stubborn to push out of her head - a certain pale embodiment of masculinity forged to turn her defenses to mere crumbs, a man she should run in the opposite direction from, a man with an infinity symbol on his forehead that gnawed at her curiosity.She walked by a few students loitering the hallway but paid no attention to them. Her thoughts well occupied by a bronze-skinned, lean lecturer of hers with a questionable stubble and a shadow of a beard that begged to be caressed. She could just see her dorm a few turns away but decided to make a quick stop at the li
That was how what should have been ended as a squabble between the two factions became the match to a raging fire. "Ever heard of the Punic wars?" He asked, hoping he wouldn't have to explain that to a history and archaeology student."Wow! I knew to expect something unexpected but nothing could prepare me for that!" Clara exclaimed, a faraway look in those stormy eyes.Lucian inched to grind out his question again but held himself back. If she really didn't have any idea about being a supernatural then she was taking this as best as anyone would. He chose to be patient instead."Like I've heard stories about the wars between the humans and gods and how gods once lived among us but I always thought they were just that. Stories," she said, daring to look at Lucian."Then why are you a history and archaeology student? If you already have your mind set on not believing anything you have read or are taught.""I don't know. I just can't help myself when it comes to history. It's like this
217 BCThe air was stale, spiced only by the bad blood and barely held back opinions. The tension could be cut by a knife and suffice should a thread suddenly be needed. He heard the double doors shut behind them and the walls closed in on him, they were trapped.What have they walked into?The division was as obvious as the grey sky and the strong wind. The Lortals sat on the left and the Lecanthers on the right. Usually the majority of the Lortals did, but on other days -good days, there would be a few Lortals scattered on the right and a few shifters scattered on the left. The gods, however, never left the right but today, no one was even a toe on the wrong side.Laura pulls on Lucian's hand as she sat looking just as confused as he felt. Their confusion was soon cleared when a bag of blood with a touch of flesh was dragged in, a trail of merlot in his wake.Gasps erupted just as quickly as he had seen one of theirs in chains. It filled the space turning threads of bad blood into a
217 BC"Luci, come here," Laura, a tall, brunette called, her hands outstretched waiting to be joined by her son's. "We're having a meeting with the leaders and I want you by my side, who knows you might be one of them someday." A hopeful smile graced her face as they brisk walked to the court room."Yes, as if those fragile aliens would ever allow that.""Well, they'd have no choice if your dad has something to say about it," She assured pulling his arm as she hurried to the double doors that marked the entrance to the town hall where fates were decided."Mother, wait. I told Van we'd go in together. Can we wait just five more minutes? Please mother." "You'd both be locked outside or sitting on air if we wait even a minute longer." She retorted not slowing down her pace in the slightest, if anything, she increased her pace."Well, I don't care about the stupid court case in the first place. Why do we even let powerless people contribute to our fates?" His face scrunched up in disgust
The barghest had been vanquished. Not a trace of hair, smoke or the smell of onions and garlic left. Still Lucian remained at that one spot where he had uttered the last words of an ancient chant he was taught as a kid to vanquish evil. He hadn't been sure it would work but it was the only thing he could think of that could work.He could feel her eyes on him, the hair at his nape standing as sharp as a pin. Voluntarily or not, he knew when she was around, could sense her presence before he even confirmed it. If it wasn't the citrus mixed with flowery scent that gave her away, it was the rush of his pulse, the skip in his breath, the feeling of eyes watching him, caressing him, making him yearn for something he shouldn't.He dreaded turning to her. What would he say? What could he say? She had asked if he saw it meaning she did as well so that could only mean she's a supernatural. What he wasn't sure of however was if she actually didn't know, or she was just pretending. The surprisin