Stranger

Chapter 2: Sophie

Sophie's head snapped up. She thought she had been alone out here; despite the nearness of the diner, trees managed to obscure a good view of her. She made sure to keep her ears open to any possible cars or people coming and going, but apparently someone had gotten beyond her scope.

The man who had spoken looked to be in his early twenties, probably twenty-three at the oldest. He was under six feet, with thick but short chestnut brown hair styled in such a way that it looked like he had horns or pointed ears, like an animal. With unruly sideburns that practically grazed his chin on top of a five o'clock shadow, he looked like one of those lumberjacks that inhabited the woods from time to time, and he dressed like one too. He was wearing a worn leather jacket, a plaid dark blue long-sleeved shirt, jeans, combat boots, and a belt with a distracting belt buckle. Definitely a working-class type of guy.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, hoping her voice didn't sound as frantic as her insides felt. She thought it was pointless to hope he didn't see the body considering he was only six feet away from her.

"Of course not." He took a step toward her and raised a brow, giving Sophie a look that told her he didn't believe her. She didn't care. He could think whatever he wanted. "He deserved it though."

"I didn't ask," she retorted, glancing upwards. Did that mean he had seen what happened?

He gave her a dry look. "I don't care," he said, taking another step toward her.

There was a tense moment between the two. Sophie wasn't sure why he didn't threaten to call the cops or why he didn't start screaming in the diner's general direction for help, though the latter idea probably wasn't too smart. She knew she could take on a group of people as long as she knocked each individual out without too much fighting. Fighting wasted time she didn't have, especially not now. Not with a body at her feet. And this guy in front of her was currently wasting what precious moments she did have. If she had to knock him out, she would do it just as long as it didn't attract any attention.

Before she could do anything, however, he said with a knowing glint in his eyes, "I know what you are."

A shiver slid down her spine at the sound of those five words, and Sophie felt herself swallow. He couldn't possibly know what she was unless he was either a conspiracy theorist, worked for a classified section of the government specializing in what she was—if such a thing even existed—or he had similar capabilities. While he had broad shoulders and a well-built frame, she didn't think he was one of her kind simply because she had yet to meet someone else that was strange like her.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," she said. She couldn't think of anything else to say. She just wanted him gone as quickly as possible.

"I can help you control it, kid," he replied.

Did he just call me kid? She might not have been his age or anything, but she sure as hell wasn't a child.

"Who do you think you are?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

At this question, he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. She couldn't tell what color his eyes were just now; it was too foggy. Sophie had come to find that the eyes told more than the lips ever could and they always gave her a good read on people. If she needed to read anybody, it was this guy, some lumberjack who didn't even blink an eye seeing a girl like her kill a guy with no weapon, no injuries on her person, and a body to dispose of. If he was so comfortable around this type of situation, the least he could have done was offer to help her find a place to bury the body.

"I can teach you how to control it." His voice was low, a gravelly sound. It was like he was perpetually angry even though his body looked relaxed, maybe even calm. Hers, on the other hand, was tense and ready to fight.

"I don't think this is any of your business," she snapped. She could feel herself start to get frustrated that he wasn't offering anything about himself, all while hinting at knowing her dark secret. She had never seen this guy in her life and it was like—

"Can you read my mind?" she asked him, and while the question itself was ridiculous by human standards, if a girl like her could kill a guy twice her size, it wasn't that much of a stretch to assume particular people could read minds.

His lips curled up again, but he wasn't smiling because he was happy and didn't seem to be laughing at the ridiculousness of her question. At least that was what she garnered from his eyes. Hazel, she decided. A golden-green hazel color. They were surprisingly pretty, but Sophie didn't have time to check him out; not when she had a body to get rid of.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

Well, that is good to know. It didn't seem as if the question perturbed him or anything, though it was entirely possible that he thought she was crazy.

"But I know people who can," he continued.

Sophie clenched her jaw and felt her brow furrow of its own accord. It was her turn to ask, "What are you?"

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