Cursed by the Fountain of Youth

Chapter 10

Fae watched the increasingly large houses pass by. This was a high-end community. Agents made pretty good money, but this neighborhood seemed a bit posh even for FBI agents.

"Professor Chase?" she asked.

"We're not in class, Fae." He looked at her, smirking. "Call me Nick."

"Okay, Nick?"

"Yes." He smiled.

"If you don't mind me asking," she said. "Where are your parents?"

"They died three years ago. Car accident."

"Oh." Fae's heart clenched. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," he said. "It was not a happy time. Becca took it especially hard."

"How's she doing now?"

"She puts up a good front, but I know she's still mourning—both my parents and her old life. She's always known she has Muscular Dystrophy, but her type is usually mild, so she didn't expect problems until she was much older. My parents knew even before they adopted her."

"She was adopted?"

"Yep, we both were. They got me first. And then when I was five, they brought me home a little sister—a two-year-old hellion."

He slowed and pulled into the driveway of a large home. Next door, a woman with white hair and a thick middle held a water hose and showered her flowers. She raised her head and waved. Nick smiled and waved back.

Stepping out of the car, he yelled, "Hello, Mrs. Tunston. Your flowers sure are looking vibrant this year."

"It's all in the fertilizer," she answered with a smile.

Fae opened her own door as Nick retrieved her bag from the trunk. She stood and took in the sights. Nick's home was a mixture of brick and wooden slats—very expensive looking, and very different from the backwoods shacks Fae had grown up in.

There were no steps to the front porch. It was all ground level, and the front door was a double entryway that appeared to be made of some kind of solid, dark wood.

Nick opened the door, and cool, pine scented air greeted Fae. A wide entryway opened up before her. Dark wood floors shone, and a crystal chandelier hung from a vaulted ceiling.

A whirring sound came from the right, and Fae turned to see a beautiful woman in a motorized wheelchair. Her hands were gnarled, and her head was tipped to the side. She smirked at Fae.

"Well, well. He brought you home, huh?"

Fae turned to Nick.

"Becca," he said in a reprimanding tone.

"This is Fae, right?" She blinked innocently.

"Yes, this is Fae." He glared at his little sister.

"Fae, this is Becca." He turned to Fae. "Don't listen to anything she says."

"If you don't want it repeated," Becca said, "don't say it." She smirked again. "My brother is your professor, huh?"

"Yes," Fae answered.

"You know," Becca said, looking at Nick. "In my brief time at college, I never remember any of my professors bringing their students home, or going out with them. Of course, most of them were ancient and it would have been really disgusting."

"We're not going out, Becca," Nick said. "Fae is a witness in a murder on campus."

Becca held back a smile. "A murder?" She laughed. "I'd come up with something more believable than that if I were you." Turning her wheelchair around and rolling away, she called out, "Mrs. Anchovy is almost done making dinner."