THORN | a paranormal romance

1: JACK

JACK POV

The room of cursed roses smells like magic.

It's not a bad smell - if it was no-one would be tempted to take a flower. But behind that summery floral scent there are more complex notes – forgotten places, ancient books, fire, danger, passion.

Death.

I breathe it in as my eyes skim over the different coloured petals – blacks, pinks, whites - all dimly underlit by small lights in the pathway. I find the rosebush I want, head over to it, and choose the reddest flower I can find.

She will like this one the best.

I crouch down, placing my small black case on the floor beside me. Then I pinch the stem of the rose – careful not to prick myself on the thorns – and clip it.

"Don't you normally go for the cursed spindle?"

The voice behind me causes me to jump and I snag the sleeve of my dark brown leather jacket.

"Jesus Christ, Matt," I say spinning around. "Don't know if you've noticed but I'm kinda in the middle of a delicate operation here..."

Matt, a fellow guardian here at Guardian Corp., is lolled back in one of the twisted white metal benches by the rose bush just ahead. He's gotten really into the hipster scene this century; he's sporting black braces over his white shirt and has his fair hair tied back in one of those god-awful man buns. His blue eyes gleam with humour.

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"You may not have noticed, but people aren't exactly using spindles anymore. What was I supposed to do? Drag a big spinning wheel into this girl's college, plonk it down in front of her and say hey, fancy a spin?"

He shrugs.

"I suppose a man with your limited charms would have struggled to get away with that..." he grins as he leans forward, resting his hands on his knees. "A needle would have worked, though. You could have masqueraded as a doctor or something."

I shake my head.

"Her mind may not remember the previous curses, but her body does. She's developed quite a phobia of needles throughout the ages."

I pluck up the dark red rose and show it to him – a smile playing about my lips.

"Plus, this way is more poetic. A rose for a Rose."

Matt raises an eyebrow at me.

"More romantic you mean. I hope you're not going soft on me, bro."

I give him a warning look.

"Hey, how about you stick to your job – turning butternut squashes into sports cars or whatever the hell it is you do. And I'll stick to mine. You create the happy endings, I dole out the curses. Right?"

Matt laughs and jumps to his feet.

"I was just messing with you. I know you're good at your job. Come on, I'm bored, let's go for a pint or something."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Good at my job?! I'm the best."

I delicately place the rose into a small black briefcase, then rise to my feet. Together we head down the greenhouse path towards the door. Matt looks at me curiously.

"Didn't she just wake up? Isn't it a bit early for you to be giving her the curse again?"

"Yeah, but I need to insert myself into her life first."

He raises a sceptical eyebrow as we exit the room of cursed roses and enter the deserted circular atrium of Guardian Corp. We walk over the black and white chequered floor tiles towards the arched doorway at the other side.

"Is that so...?" he says.

I narrow my eyes at him.

"I hope you're not questioning my ability to do my job."

He raises his arms, a flicker of submission unhidden in his eyes. He knows not to try my patience. His life is all fairies and butterflies and happiness – not curses, pain and darkness.

He doesn't want to get into a fight he can't win.

"Hey, dude, I'm just interested – that's all."

I stop by the stone podium in the centre of the hall and sigh, leaning against it. Matt stands beside me. His ridiculous man bun is illuminated by the beam of moonlight entering through the high, domed, skylight above.

I run a hand over my head then exhale.

"She only gets given the curse when she starts to get on track for her happy ending," I say. "Not before, not after. That's the contract I'm bound by. It usually happens around about a year after she's woken up from the last curse – but I can't ever be certain."

"What did she do to deserve it?"

I look at the podium I'm leant against. In the Godmother we trust is carved into it above a window displaying a pair of glass shoes. Then my gaze travels upwards to statue of our CEO on top of it.

"Hey, dude, I just do what I'm told. It must have been pretty bad though," I shrug then walk away from the statue towards the exit of the building. "We going for this pint or what?"

Matt falls into step beside me, a knowing grin on his face.

"Why so keen to get out? Early morning meeting tomorrow or something?"

Something stirs inside of me but I push it away. I scowl at him.

"Yes. For work."

But he knows me better than that. He knows why I'm really eager to get this drink over with.

After a century of waiting, I finally get to see her again. I finally get to see the girl who I have tormented throughout history; the girl who has infuriated me, plagued me, almost foiled my plans on numerous counts.

A rose for a Rose. 

God, she's infuriating.

I can't wait.