Stardust (10 page)

Read Stardust Online

Authors: Rue Volley

BOOK: Stardust
12.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

Going Home

 

 

 

 

~one year later~

I packed up the last box and wrote “charity” on the side of it. I stepped back and looked around the room. My apartment was always small in New York City, but with everything packed up, it looked large to me. I bit my lip and tapped the black marker on the side of my leg as I heard voices in the hallway. I smiled as I saw Violet and Poppy stroll in. They looked around the room and then grinned at me.

Violet spoke as I walked over to the grab my pink pleather jacket. I slid it on, one arm at a time as she touched the lid of one box then another. “You did a great job here.”

I stopped and glanced at Poppy as she shrugged her shoulders. “Thank you.” I said to her as she glanced at my kitchen.

“That kitchen sucks, it is too small.”

I looked down as the small beagle puppy barked up at her and I
laughed as I knew that she could not, at least, get one small jab in, even if it was towards the apartment itself, and not towards me.

“You tell her, Cody.” I said as she raised an eyebrow and stared down on him.

He sat down and panted as he stared up at her, his lips parted, and big tongue flopped out as if he was smiling. She handed the leash to me. I took it as I continued to grin.

“The train leaves in an hour, we should get going.” I nodded as I looked around the apartment and they both glanced at each other.

Poppy spoke up, “Why don’t we go hail a cab?” she said as Violet nodded to her.

“Good idea,” they started to walk out as Poppy went on about it.

“Let me do it, I am sure they will stop for me.”

“Why? Are you saying they would ignore me?” Violet said as I laughed and turned towards my window. I stared out at the building and the city itself.

I hugged Cody and kissed his wrinkled cheek. “What do you think, Cody? Do you think we are doing the right thing? I sure hope so,” I said as he licked my face.

It is funny how I dreamed about being here my whole life and now, well now…I am moving back home.
Home to Stillcreek and into my own house. My mom had decided to invest in a newspaper, of all things, and then offered it to me. I know she did it on purpose and I really struggled with taking her up on the offer, but then again, I missed it, all of it. I missed the smells, the people. I missed my family. I walked up to the window and stared down into the street. I saw both Violet and Poppy sticking legs out like hookers and I laughed as I headed for the door and paused. I looked back at the apartment and grinned.

“Goodbye.” I said, as I was grateful to have come here, grateful to have been made better after everything that had happened with Jess, then my dad, and, of course, Cody. I paused until my new puppy barked again and I took one deep breath and started to walk. If anything, I was stronger now, stronger than I had ever been. “I know, we are going to be late…like always.”

Once I got down to the street, I simply stuck my fingers to my lips and whistled. It was a high pitch that made both Poppy and Violet wince, but almost immediately, a cab appeared along the curb. I grinned at the two of them.

“I told you we should whistle,” Poppy said as both her and Violet piled into the cab. I stood there and stared up at the buildings and then slid into the back seat, ready for the next phase of my life. Cody barked at Violet and then growled for a second and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Seriously? Stop it,” I smiled and held him close to me as the cab pulled away.

We reached the train station, late as usual. I think our family is inherently late for everything. The whistle blew loud and long as Violet and Poppy ran to get our tickets, I stood on the platform and stared at the train. I had not been on it since that night. The night Cody left me and I set his spirit, along with Jess’s, free. I blinked as the train started to move. I picked up my tattered suitcase as Poppy and Violet ran up next to me and we took off for the train. Cody’s ears flopped in the wind and his tongue hung out of his mouth as I tried to catch up. He was obviously enjoying himself. They ran faster than I did and reached it first, being pulled up as I found myself falling behind. I thought about the time I ran for this train when Cody helped
me up and his face flashed into my mind. His lips, the way he smiled and cared about me. I then blinked, tossed my suitcase on board and saw a hand stick out so I took it.

I sighed and then looked up to see a man standing there, he was dressed in a white button down shirt, a nice coat and jeans. He grinned as I pushed past him and then I hesitated, remembering my manners. I turned back and got caught staring at his shoes. They were so familiar, like the ones Cody always wore. I looked up and saw his face. His eyes bright and blue, lips a pinkish red. His skin pale, but not sickly in color. He was very attractive.
My
kind of attractive. Young, probably my age, if not a year older. His hair was short. Dark, his features very familiar.

I grinned. “Thank you,” I said as my hat flew off and away from the back of the train.

We both watched the thing linger for a few seconds before it darted off down the tracks behind us. He jumped. I screamed…I mean, it seemed insane to watch him do it. He landed in between the tracks and ran until he snatched up my hat and then turned to smile at me. His look of triumph soon turned to one of distress as he realized the train was gaining speed. He took off running towards me and I dropped my suitcase and held onto the bar as I extended my hand out as far as I could. He finally reached me and with one leap, his hand was in mine and I pulled as he jumped up. All so very familiar, but then Cody barked. We all quickly moved backward and he was almost against me. The closest any man had been since…..

“Thank you, again. I am Jazz,” I said to him as his chest rose and fell. He smiled down on
me and Cody. “This is Cody.”

“Cody?”

“Yes,” I said as I looked at him and Cody continued to pant.

“My name is Chris, Christopher, actually, and Cody, Cody was the name of my uncle...” I interrupted him. “Baker?” I asked as he narrowed his eyes and grinned at me.

“Yes, how did you?” I smiled at him. He continued on. “Are you psychic?” he asked and I laughed and shrugged my shoulders.

“No…nothing like that.”

I smiled as I stepped into the hallway of the train and Violet and Poppy stared down at me. I pointed to him and they both nodded to me.

“You can see him?” I yelled out as Violet rolled her eyes at me.

“Yes, Jasmine,” she called out as I smiled and then turned back to him.

“See me?” he asked as I grinned up at him.

“Long story….so, where are you headed, Christopher?” he smiled, tilted his head and then looked down the hall.

“Stillcreek, Pennsylvania…. I write. I am applying for a job there, at the newspaper.”

“Mmmm. Writer, huh?” I said as we strolled along and my heart fluttered as I quietly thanked Cody for his gift to me as my first full novel dropped from my purse and hit the floor. We both leaned down as Christopher picked it up first. He touched the cover and fingered at the one word on it.

“Stardust…I like that, you wrote this?” he said as he saw my name on the bottom of it. I smiled and took the book back from him. “It’s a fictional tale about a girl who finds love and releases it to the stars.” He smiled and stepped back from me, leaning against the wall of the train.

“We all come from the stars…”

“…
and to the stars we return,” I said without hesitation.

“Yes, I don’t remember where I heard it first,” he said as we started to walk down the hallway. I glanced upward and grinned.

“Me either, but I believe.” I whispered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Website @
http://www.ruevolley.com/

Twitter @
https://twitter.com/RueVolley

Check out the rest of her books @
http://www.amazon.com/Rue-Volley/e/B0089E2JP8/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Join the Fan page on Facebook @
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Rue-Volley/146299465525490

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

KEEPER VS REAPER

By

JENNIFER MALONE WRIGHT

 

 

C
HAPTER ONE

Jack

 

Jackson Walker peeled open his eyes when the morning sun came streaming through his bedroom window.

“Fuck.” He ripped the black cotton sheet away from his naked body and staggered toward the windows. Once he maneuvered past the maze of clothing on the floor he grasped the heavy drapes and yanked them shut.

With a groan, he detoured to the kitchen instead of going back to bed. “Fucking cheap ass beer,” he muttered under his breath as his feet hit the cold tile of the kitchen floor. The tiny little house actually had a decent kitchen in it, not that it mattered to him, since he hated cooking and avoided any sort of kitchen activity … unless it involved a blonde with nice rack,
then activities in the kitchen were acceptable.

At the ancient porcelain sink he reached up and grabbed the bottle of aspirin off the
window sill. He poured three into his hand and popped them into his mouth, following up by chugging a gigantic tumbler of water.

“Hey baby.”

He heard the sugary voice of the woman behind him and wished he had sent her home the night before. The awkward business of sending them home the next day was one of those things Jack never looked forward to. Not that he really cared about their feelings. It was more of an inconvenience than anything.

He turned around and leaned against the sink, giving her full view of his nakedness. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his white cotton tee shirt covering her more than amazing upper body. He noticed she had also slipped the tiny wisp of black fabric she called panties back on. Briefly he wondered how they were even still in one piece after the night before.

“What are you looking at?” He asked her, knowing full well exactly where her eyes had gone. The glossy look of lust that Jack was more than familiar with appeared in her eyes as she ran her gaze from his eyes, down over his taut muscles, and finally settling below his midsection. She licked her bottom lip and bit down on it gently before gliding toward him.

Jack felt the sudden rush of
blood as he grew hard, knowing that Janet … or Janice, was ready for another round. He waited for her to come to him. She crossed the kitchen, tossing her long dark hair behind her shoulder just before she pushed herself up against him.

“Let’s go back to bed,” she whispered, rubbing her tee shirt covered breasts against his naked chest.

Jack groaned as his erection pushed against her panties. “Right here seems fine with me,” he whispered in her ear, bending down to grasp her legs and lift her up so that he could more efficiently grind himself against her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head back with a moan. Jack could feel her panties almost dripping with want for him already. Any man would have a hard time turning that down. With ease, he spun around and set her tiny ass on the edge of the counter, yanking her legs forward so that his erection pushed hard between her thighs.

Reaching down, she lifted his tee shirt up over her enormous breasts. Jack knew they were fake, but they were still down right amazing. Over the head with the shirt and onto the floor, leaving Janet … or Janice, God why wasn’t he better with names, in only her tiny black panties. Deciding instantly that she wasn’t going home with those intact, he ran his finger across the inside, grazing her sweet spot. With a sudden gasp she arched her back, thrusting herself toward him. At that moment he curled his finger around the fabric and yanked. The string of lace at the hip popped loose and he pulled them all the way down her leg and over the toe where the ruined panties joined the discarded shirt.

Before he went any further, he felt around below the edge of the counter, searching for the handle of the drawer he filled with junk from his pockets. He knew there was a condom in there somewhere. If not, he was going to have to take her back to the bedroom because there was no way he was fucking anyone without a condom. He didn’t have a clue where most of the women he was with had been and furthermore, the very last thing he needed was to knock someone up.

Better safe than sorry.

His hand shuffled around and then, bingo. As quick as he could he brought the square package to his lips and ripped it open with his teeth. He had the thing on pretty much
instantaneously. If putting a condom on in record time was ever made into a sport, he was likely to be voted the fucking MVP.

Up against her again, he pulled her close with one large hand and let the other find its way into her hair, grasping a handful and pulling back.

“Now,” she moaned, “right now.”

With no further invitation needed, he pushed into her and his lips found hers. Her moans were muffled against his lips and tongue with each thrust. He felt her orgasm building, until finally she erupted, thighs clenching around his waist and her body thrashing against him.

At the exact same moment of his own climax, he grasped her head with both hands to prevent her from moving away. Keeping his mouth crushed against hers, he felt her soul release from its encasing tomb of a body and flow up through her chest and throat. The blue mist of her soul that he could not see was transferred into him. Souls had no taste, but filled him the same as food would satisfy a ravenous hunger.

His body lurched again with another orgasm in response to the soul entering him. He felt the woman’s body begin to weaken as her grasp on him loosened. He ripped his mouth away from hers, breaking the seal of the transfer for the soul.

Carefully, he pulled her against him. Her head lolled to the side and her limbs sagged.

“Shit.” He silently chastised himself for taking too much. With some of the living he found that he could take a little of their soul and they would never even know because they were dying inside already. Mostly this type of person was found in the depressed, alcoholics, hookers, and the like. The living soul provided so much more for him than the dead souls did, not to mention that they were still alive. He may be a self-admitted asshole, but there was something about taking a soul and preventing it from crossing over that didn’t sit right with him. He preferred to know that he wasn’t a murderer and taking the souls of the dead was on the same level for him.

Most of the women he took from never had a clue anything was wrong. It was masked by their orgasm, and usually some sort of booze.

With a sigh he scooped her up, letting her limp legs hang over one arm, her head and arms dangling over the other and carried her into the bedroom where he deposited her onto the bed. As he set her down onto the soft bedding, her dark eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him with confusion. “Damn it,” she croaked. “I must still be a little drunk. I think I passed out.” She pushed herself up onto her hands so that she was sitting up and then used one of her hands to
brush the brunette locks away from her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Jack rose up and stood over her, looking down at the beautiful woman who would never be for him. He ate souls to live, and she was a single woman who didn’t think she was worth anything. Life had beaten her into submission so badly that she no longer lived for herself, but merely to survive. He just couldn’t be with any woman who was half dead inside because he would end up killing her himself.

Sadly, this was the problem he encountered with most women.

“No worries,” he told her, turning away. “I’m going to go get in the shower. I have an appointment in about an hour, so…”

“You want me to leave?”

He nodded. “Nothing personal.” He spread his hands. “This was fun, but I can’t let you stay here while I’m gone.”

She turned her head away to avoid his eyes and self-consciously covered her breasts with one hand while pulling the sheet over her midsection with the other. “I’ll get my things together in just a minute. I’m still feeling a little bit dizzy.”

Jack smiled, flashing her his perfect set of white teeth. “Take your time.”

She looked up at him like he was the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, because even she knew that ‘take your time’ was read as ‘get the fuck out.’

Still naked, he sauntered through the door to the connecting bathroom. Once inside, he leaned over the ancient
clawfoot tub and turned on the hot water. The tub had a circular curtain around it and a shower head had been added to the original fixtures. After making sure he had a towel on the rack for afterward, he stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash over him.

The wicked headache from the cheap beer he had downed the night before still plagued him, despite the aspirin and sex. Bending over he turned the water on as hot as he could take it, and then grabbed up his trusty bar of Irish Spring and began the ritual of scrubbing the sweat and sex away from his body.

He didn’t really have an appointment to get to, and he stayed in the shower purposely longer than he would have normally showered to give Janet … or Janice, time to get her clothes on and leave.

When the water heater finally gave out and the water began to run cold he turned the faucet off and stepped out onto the cushy blue bath mat to dry off. After drying his body, he wrapped
the towel around his waist and stepped up to the sink. He used the hand towel to wipe away a spot on the mirror so that he could see his reflection.

His hair was getting a bit longer than he usually wore it. The wet charcoal locks fell down over his green eyes, scraping against his long black lashes that most women would kill for. He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, except to trim it up. He turned his face from side to side in the mirror, inspecting his facial hair and tossing around the idea of growing a goatee.

After deciding against the goatee and simply tidying up the hair that was already there with his electric trimmer, he brushed his teeth and then made his way back to the bedroom where he slipped on a pair of jeans and a plain black tee shirt.

The serene silence of the old house was abruptly interrupted by his phone ringing
. He recognized the ring he had set for his mother and hurried over to the nightstand where he had left his phone the night before.

“Hey Mom.”

“Jackson.” Her response was cold, as it always was.

“How are things going at home? Everyone all right, Dad?”

“Everything here is fine, your father is doing well … for now. The Florida heat wears on him though, we are considering a move to a more regulated climate.”

“I’m glad he’s all right.”

A short silence took place before his mother continued to speak. “Have you found the new Keeper?”

“No Mom, I just got here.”

He heard her sigh over the line and he could picture her sitting in one of the uncomfortably straight dining room chairs in their uncomfortably fancy dining room, shaking her head at his incompetence. “Jackson, you have had ample time to get used to your accommodations. What have you been doing with your time?”

He glanced over at the rumpled sheets strewn across his bed and grinned. “Just getting to know my way around town.”

Another sigh. “Which means you have been whoring yourself around, I take it.”

Jack didn’t respond. Camille Walker was one he learned early on not to argue with.

“Jackson, you have to understand that your freedom with your sexual endeavors does reflect on the family. I just don’t understand why you have to go around giving yourself to every money hungry slut on two feet. There are plenty of women of our kind who would be more than happy to be with a man such as yourself.”

It was Jack’s turn to sigh. “It’s not about that mom.”

“Well what it is about then, please enlighten me.” Even though he sensed her anger, her voice didn’t change one octave. She had been that way ever since he could remember. Camille didn’t have to raise her voice. She was unnervingly calm all the time.

“Just let it
go, please. I’ll slow it down,” Jack lied.

“You will get your head in the game, Son. You have one job and one job only. The
Estmond Keeper needs to die and it needs to be soon.”

“I know, I know … because she could be the one the legend speaks of.”

“Sass me again, Jackson. I will have the guard there by tonight to drag your ass back home.”

“Get the job done and call me when it’s accomplished.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Goodbye, Jackson.” Camille hung up the phone without waiting for Jack to bid her goodbye as well.

Jack clicked off his phone and chucked it onto the bed. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself. Stupid fucking orders. The Reaper Council had plenty of Reapers out there to do jobs like this, but no, it had to be him because he was Camille and Ephraim Walker’s son. He couldn’t even count how many times in his life he had wished that he wasn’t their son.

The Reaper society came with a hierarchy, and his parents were at the top of that chain. Only the High Elder of The Reaper Council sat above his parents, which left him next in the line of Walkers to take his father’s place, and that looked like it was going to be sooner rather than later if his father’s health kept deteriorating. 

He had no interest in killing the Estmond Keeper, or even going into her graveyard. He would have been happy just to hang out in Summer Hollow for a month or so and then go back home, or find another place to chill for a while. But, apparently, the orders were something that the Council was not going to ignore and he was going to have to get the job done.

Other books

Devil's Own by Susan Laine
Gool by Maurice Gee
Kiss of Venom by Estep, Jennifer
Saving the Rifleman by Julie Rowe
Josh by R.C. Ryan
Wicked Bad Boys by Bella Love-Wins
Misspent Youth by Peter F. Hamilton