Three loud thuds come from the guest room door.
"Shit," Gabby whispers from the other side.
Three more loud raps come before I can get it. "Hey, I could use some help here."
Pulling the robe she'd given me tight, I open the door to find clothing exploding from her arms.
"Oh geez. Let me help you," I say, taking the top half of the stack.
She lay the remaining clothing on the bed. The leather jacket she wore to pick me up was gone, revealing a loose black tank top with a large white skull printed on the front and two large red rose tattoos, one on each shoulder.
Tattoos—she has tattoos.
My symbols of my family—of everything I was forced to let go of. I need them back.
"Some of the pants might be too short but I think I should have something here that will fit you." She sighs flopping back onto the bed making herself at home. "Sorry all my stuff is black." She offers, twisting her thick black bracelet.
"Clearly, you've never seen my wardrobe."
Her deep cocoa eyes lite up. "I think we're going to get along just fine."
I pick through the top layer of her clothes setting them in a neat pile. "So, tell me about Victor." My stomach squeezes, like he could be outside listening. Or would she tell him I asked?
"Oh, Victor. He's gorgeous. You're going to like him."
I roll my eyes. "That's not what I mean." I toss one of the shirts back onto the pile. "Is he a good leader?" Is he trustworthy... is really what I want to ask.
"Well, that's not as fun," she says, picking at her peeling black nail polish. "But yes, he takes good care of us. He's got strict rules and if you follow them—you're golden. Keep a low profile. Don't get your food from the community, and you'll be fine. He likes to stay under the radar, so he won't want you to do anything that draws attention to him."
"Well then he made a mistake taking me," I say it before I can stop myself.
She laughs, it's light and carefree. I envy it. "He doesn't mind pushing the Authority's buttons. And boy is he excited to meet the girl that can make The Authority scramble. They actually made a house call for you. I've never seen them act like this before. You must be pretty special."
I huff, sorting through the sea of black laid across the bed. "I'm nothing to be desired." I found a black pair of ripped jeans and a short crop top. I pull out a red and black flannel button up shirt, the only piece of color.
"I doubt that." I don't like the way her eyes glide over me, like I'm an animal to be studied.
Ignoring her, I ask, "Do you have anything other than these?" I hold up a pair of thick heeled black boots, my nose scrunching involuntarily.
"Don't give them that look!" She snatches the boots from my hand holding them against her chest. "These are my favorite." She pets them like a furry kitten before dropping them and rustling through the pile. Tossing pants and shirts until there are spots of black across the floor. "Aha, here." A pair of black flats materialize in her hand.
"Now, we're talkin'."
I step into the bathroom to change. The jeans hug my thighs, but they fit. As I slip on the black crop top, a flutter of black catches my attention in the mirror. Wings form over my shoulders—not thick and membranous but like lace and webbing. I clutch at my shoulders but find nothing but fabric. When I face the mirror again they're gone. I must have lost my mind.
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YOU ARE READING
Hello Darkness
ParanormalCharley Beckett-perfectly sane, normal, Charley Beckett-counts everything. Years since her parents' unsolved murder: fifteen. Bodies she's found dead: three. Puncture wounds on each of their throats: two. People who believe her when she says vampire...