The Choosing [First 3 Chapters]

3. I've Been "Misted"

It only takes us about 10 minutes to get through the heavy traffic of Trent Street and reach the rundown end of the road that houses 'Trent Army-Navy Supply'. Evan is already waiting out for me in front of the store. Lysander slows down and parallel parks the car near the building. I hop out and Evan scoops me up in a hug that spins me off my feet before settling me on the ground. "I trust you slept well, birdy." He murmurs against my cheek.

I ease away from him, but he's not letting go of me. The saccharine scent that seems to emanate from him slowly permeates my whole being like a drug and I'm becoming increasingly light-headed. I peer up at him through hazy eyes. He's even more handsome in daylight. His skin is luminous. His icy-blonde hair has been messily tied back in a long braid. Little wavy strands of it have escaped and are just begging to be touched. Don't do it! My fingers ignore me and I caress a few feathery locks back into place before I realize what I'm doing. The tips of my fingers continue to disobey me and tentatively slide across the side of his face. He takes ahold of my hand, closes his eyes and leans a smooth porcelain cheek into my palm.

"I slept fine, thank you" I mutter snatching back my hand and disentangling myself from him. Be careful Madison!

Evan chuckles. "Let's go inside."

He walks ahead of me and holds the door open. "Look around, they have some interesting stuff. I'm going to talk to him", Evan points to the pot-bellied, grim-faced man behind the counter. "I won't be long." He leaves me to wander.

This place hasn't been renovated like the country bar. The walls are a chalky primer-cream with scratches and even a few gashes in them from moving equipment around. The commercial carpeting is a hideous greyish-blue with maroon and tan speckles and may actually be more brown stains than anything else. The place smells like sweaty men, a twinge of eau de port-o-potty, and artificial vanilla air freshener. The ceiling is an array of rust and pee colored water stains. A few buckets are strategically placed under ongoing leaks. They haven't been changed in a few days judging by the amount of water they contain. Yuck! The air has a metallic taste and the room is cold yet humid. There are several displays crowding the room, each filled with various items from Swiss army knives, bear sprays, and compasses, to canteens, bug-out bags, and machetes. A large locked plexiglass display case in the back contains an array of much larger knives, guns, ammo, and various high tech binoculars and crossbows. I peruse the aisles for about 10 minutes examining unknown devices and gadgets before I pick up a mini spray bottle of mace from a shelf and decide to buy it. I head toward the checkout and find Lysander packing a large black case. As I approach he hefts it over his shoulder by a strap and carries it outside to the car.

"I'm just checking-out now," Evan says standing at the counter. "Smart", He gently takes the mace from my hand, tosses it with his other items and turns back to the cashier. "Add this too, please."

I take the mace back after he's paid and he carries the other bags outside. "Thanks"

"Of course" he holds the door and we had back to the car. Evan hands the bags to a waiting Lysander and he adds them to the nearly overflowing trunk. Why does he need so many weapons?

"After you, birdy." Evan smiles.

I get into the back seat and Evan slides in next to me. Lysander starts driving.

"Where are we going?" I watch the streets pass out the window.

"A small apartment I keep nearby where we can talk privately." Evan puts his arm around my shoulders and I shudder. I inch away from him and he laughs and inches closer.

"What are you doing?" I shrug out of his arm.

"I'm enjoying the ride." He grins down at me and puts his arm back around me.