Dahrk Circles

2

He called her Leanne. This meant that she was on the right track. She kept thinking with every step closer to finding Ronan, some part of her past life or a kind of memory would come flooding back to her. It never did. She should be used to the disappointment by now, but she held to the hope that she would find something that would finally reveal the full truth to her. After all these years.
"Excuse me?" Her face quizzical. His, immobilized by shock and a twinge of fear.
"Holy-- How-- It's-- I don't-- You--" his bewildered trance shifted momentarily in Jon's direction, and met back with the visage of the sorceress who ruined their lives.
"I don't believe we have met before," she extended a slender hand and a timid smile, "My name is Avalon." He was taken aback. Her eyes danced and glimmered in the way only a minx could conjure, and it looked all too familiar to him. He hesitated.
"Marcus," he took her hand, afraid his skin might burn at the touch. He watched her carefully, doubtful.
"It's nice to meet you Marcus. I haven't really been introduced to anyone since I've been back. A lot of people change in five years it seems." With his eyes never leaving her, he leaned against the bar, open and ready to attack if needed.
"Oh yeah? Five years huh? Yeah, five years is a long time to be away." Two new beers were slid across the counter top in front of him.
"Yeah, you know, I figured it was time to be home," she looked at the beers and asked, "So you're here with a friend?" On the immediate defense he almost glared at her,
"How could you know that?" She gave a delicate chuckle and put her hand around the glass.
"Either you came with a date and plan on leaving with another one, or you and a friend are here having a night out."
"Oh," he dumbly paused, "right." She chuckled again. That was a sound he had not heard for many, many years. It was almost intoxicating. But then again, he knew what kind of allure she laced over her voice. He used it all the time. It was magic.
"So which is it? Just a friend?" He gave her a blank stare, like the answer was running through his mind but didn't manage to make it out of his mouth. "You okay?" her adorable face scrunched up a little as she leaned toward him, worried.
"Oh!" Snapping out of it "Yeah it's just my buddy and me. You know, a birthday thing for him."
"Well that's nice. Maybe I could wish him a happy birthday? You know, it's nice to meet the newer people in the town."
"No!" His palms raised in defense, "no, he doesn't like meeting new people. He's really shy." A bit puzzled, she looked about the room briefly, wondering which of the alone men could be Marcus' partner. She so desperately hoped it could be Ronan, but she had been searching for years. It was probably best not to get her hopes up.
"That's a good thing he has a friendly guy like you to hang out with, then." She grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder, sending her long red hair cascading down her back, "I'll leave you to your birthday-ing. I gotta go anyway, I'll catch you later. It was nice to see you Marcus." As he watched her glide away to the back of the building he muttered,
"Nice to see you too, Leanne." It was almost surreal. Did that really just happen? He shook his head and grabbed the two glasses.  That was just too bizarre. He didn't know, until now, that it was possible to be so afraid and so filled with hatred, at the same time as feeling nostalgic and longing. He hated the fact that she cursed them together, but he felt a longing to talk to her again like old times. But it didn't matter either way, because this chit obviously wasn't Leanne. Leanne was to ambitious and unstoppable. This Clarissa was too tender. Leanne would have destroyed her. However to likeness was undeniable.
As he meandered back over to the table, he was lost in thought trying to figure out how he was going to tell Jon that an exact replica of his one true, dearly loathed love had waltzed into the bouyu hick town where he had been hiding. He looked up at the table and stopped short.
Jon was gone. Oh, no... Had he already seen her? Talking to him? He was going to be in so much  trouble and he knew it... Aw crap.

****

Walking down the small hallway to the bathroom,
avalon's designer boots crisply clicked against the old wood flooring. The festive banjo and fiddle jig melting into the background. As she glanced in her purse to check if she had any messages from Crystal, Avalon ran face first into the men's bathroom door that swung open, and with a grunt, the breath knocked out of her and she fell to the floor. The entirety of the contents in her bag were let lose, and she quickly started to gather them on her hands and knees.
"Are you  alright? I am so sorry, I wasn't looking- here let me help you." She immediately felt a deep, heavy presence next to her, picking up a package of tissues and a Chapstick. She glanced sideways at him and saw his left hand. Her heart dropped and she froze. Everything was moving in slow motion.
Holy poop! How could it be? It wasn't real. She couldn't have found him that easily. No way. Seeing the blazed purple mark on the back of his hand made the blood rush in her ears and her hands physically tremble. No way. This wasn't real.
She scrambled to her feet, trying to keep herself from breathing heavy. With wide eyes she took in her first looks at the man she had spent so long searching for. He wore dark clothing and raggedy black hair very well, she decided. It was only a brief observation, because he reached to grab her phone and some mints, and she panicked. Avalon turned her heels to practically run out of the Bar 'n' Grill, leaving her purse with the man she was once in love with, but never knew.
By the time he looked up, she was already gone. He had recognized her as the fiery red head with Marcus, but he never got a look at her face. When he had peered behind the door at her, she was hunched over the floor. He felt so bad. This was why he never went out in pubic; he always managed to ruin things. And now he scared Marcus' fill up. The so called "Protector" was going to kill him. Well, not really. It was his job to keep him safe. Obviously. Naw, he would be fine. Marcus would get over it.
He reached his feet, holding the stylish Coach purse in one hand, and gripping her phone in the other. He managed to open the screen, completely by accident, but it was protected by a password. Oh well. Too bad magic didn't work on technology. He would be a wiz, no pun intended, at all the weird tech stuff Marcus was having him do with his own phone. He went to the bar and asked Mike to give the stuff back to the red head if she ever came back. After Mike put the purse behind the counter, Jon turned around and looked at his table.  No Marcus. Maybe he didn't want the red head after all. He couldn't imagine why Marcus would want a red head anyway, especially when they had such a bad experience with the worst one in the history of the planet. Just bad memories. And the momentary thought of all those memories reminded him of why he was so dark and miserable.
With a newfound resolution to never surface in public again, he headed out the door toward his Toyota pickup across the gravel parking lot, where he passed a small car, not noticing a timid red head slumped in the passenger seat not wanting to be seen.
She released the breath she didn't know she'd had been holding, the second he drove out of sight.
"Girl, you got it bad." Chuckled the platinum blonde holding the wheel.
"Shut up, Crystal," she sat up and checked the back window one more time to be sure, "you don't know, you weren't there." She heard a snort,
"You know I can see what you see." After sitting back in her seat, she glared at her partner and said,
"Did you see the part where I ran right into him?" She was practically sweating with nerves.
"Oh, whatever! You didn't run into him, he walked up to you and poured on the sexiest man vibes I've ever seen. It's okay, I'd be rattled too, and that never happens!" The laughter continued. Avalon straightened and stared at her,
"You didn't see, did you?" Crystal's laughter faded to a sudden stop when she saw the serious look on Rissa's face.
"Didn't see what? The man at the bar?"
"No, Crystal. Right after that." Her vibrant blue eyes widened, stuck in a trance, when that statement struck a chord.
"Did something happen to you that I didn't see?"
"I found him. Crystal, I found him," a very audible gasp was her reply, "He's here. I saw him, I ran into him. He was here!"
"Oh my stars, you're not kidding."
"No."
"Well, what did he look like? How did you know it was him? Was it a feeling? Because that totally could have messed up with my frequency, and be why I didn't see it. Dagnabbit! I didn't even get to see him! Ugh," she banged her cute little forehead on the wheel.
"I didn't exactly get to see his face,"
"You're kidding. So how did you know it was him? Was it a feeling? Did you feel witchy mojo or something?"
"No, nothing like that. Well, kind of. But not really. I felt weighted and comfortable, like putting on a snug jacket that you know curves perfectly to your body," Crystal gave a girly squeal, "it was very subtle, I barely noticed it. But I knew it was him when I saw his hand."
"No. Way." If she had been drinking water, right now was the perfect spit take. "Did you... Did you see it? Was it just like we always thought?" Avalon looked at her hand and analyzed the skin on the back. She said,
"It was exactly how we read it. The journals were so true to detail, I couldn't even believe it." Crystal grabbed Avalon's hands and practically jumped in her seat, squealing,
"Avalon you did it! You finally found him. After all these years you finally found him! Are you positive? Are you absolutely positive? I mean, we haven't run into an actual, possible Ronan, like ever. This is the first. So are you completely, positively, 100% sure that it's him?" She thought for a second and then said,
"It's him. I know it." Crystal leaned back and looked at her slightly with a hint of skepticism. Avalon laughed and squeezed their hands together.
"Still trying to protect me, even from false hope." She leaned toward her with teasing eyes.
"Well, you know, it's my job," and she indifferently looked out the window.
"No. That came from my friend, not my Protector. And you know it."
"Okay, fine. But I'm serious, I just want to make sure it's 'him' him so that we don't get super disappointed and then need to start all over again. I'd rather we know so that we can prepare to keep moving."
"Don't worry Crys, it's him. And we're staying, for once."
"Well good," she giggled, "because the house Cheyenne got us is the really nice one from before, and I'd hate to leave it again." Crystal was just so darling. She was a southern belle with a capital "B" and everyone absolutely loved her. She was like Melanie Hamilton from Gone With the Wind, except with a sassy side. So, of course, everyone loved her. Granted, they had to because of her natural Succubus allure, but even if she didn't have that, people would love her anyway. There was no way not to. She had a soft, round face with a pixie look, including starch colored hair and eyes, and she was the kindest soul you'd ever meet. Avalon knew she was lucky. If she was going to be stuck with someone forever, she was glad it was Crystal. Well, she also had Cheyenne, but she wasn't stuck, so much as she was an appendage; they needed her. Without her, they wouldn't have even known in the first place that Avalon was reincarnated. It was just a bonus that she was a wicked awesome Native American with a green thumb and a big heart for love stories.
Avalon thought it was crazy to think of herself as part of a love story, especially when she didn't even know the man she was supposed to be in love with, but she felt a light of hope now. Now that she had seen him, and they knew he existed, there was a hope for her future. And hope was nice. It felt good. It was like using a match to light up a dark room; it wasn't enough to see absolutely everything, but it was enough to know that there was something out there for her and know she had a direction.
"Oh, good grief! I was about to drive off without your purse. Did you leave it inside?"
"My purse?" Avalon didn't seem to quite understand. "Oh! Yeah I left it inside. I'll be right back." Once inside, she made a beeline for the bar. "Hey Big Mike, could you help a girl out?" Excluding herself, no one seemed to notice Mike, although everyone knew his name. But Mike knew everything. He saw and heard everything; one of the best informants she ever had.
He was a bigger man with a full beard that covered his double chin, and he always wore a plaid shirt. A very friendly man, with a deep and scruffy voice,
"Yeah, I got you here, Cherie. Guy came and dropped it behind the counter after you scadaddled off." Thankfully, she retained her bag and treated him to a warm, bright smile. It was times like this where she would use some of her magic to get information, but Mike was just friendly like that. Plus, he was reminded of his daughter when Avalon was involved, so he always spoiled her. "Did he bother you any? 'Cause I can easily take care of him Cherie." She laughed outright,
"No Mike, thank you. I was just surprised and I had to leave. But I'm glad he gave my purse back. Who was he? I didn't get his name." He harrumphed and set to wipe down the countertop.
"That's Jonathan. But he calls himself Jay for some reason. Hiding something, I think. He's been living back past the Fonwell's property for the last three years and he keeps to himself, so he's a bit of a quiet one," he snorted "thankful he doesn't loose around on the town. Not like his friend Marcus." He paused and pointed a fat sausage finger at her "Don't you let me be catchin' you around the likes of him Cherie." She chuckled at him. "I'm tellin' you, don't let me catch you doing stuff like that. I'd hate to have to kill somebody." She put a hand over his fist on the counter,
"You won't find me doing that stuff."
"You promise, Cherie?"
"I promise, Big Mike." seemingly satisfied with her answer, he nodded and continued to wipe down the countertop.
"Good. Now, because you're a witch I know you can't go back on your promise." Completely and utterly shocked, her mouth actually hung open to gawk at him. Mike ginned to himself. "I know things, Cherie. Don't you forget." With almost a laugh, she scoffed,
"You sure do Mike! I'd ask you how you know...but you're the Big Daddy who just knows, so I'm not even going to question it."
"Darn straight I am!" He boomed with laughter as he watched her leave. "Much love Cherie, you take care now."
"See you later Big Mike!" She laughed herself out the door.