An Anomaly of Sunlight (Tarot Lake #1)

1. Amethyst

One

Amethyst

T he person before me is unrecognizable despite the room being all too familiar. The sun’s setting rays on the horizon filter through the window, highlighting the terrifying vision in the mirror.

“This isn’t real,” the shaky words once more attempt to convince my marred reflection, “it’s just a nightmare.

” My gaze shifts from the mirror as I lift my palms into focus.

My eyes trail along the length of the pebbled skin of my arms. Whether from the chill of the room or the horrifying realization of what’s happened, it’s impossible to tell.

Questioning reality in my mind fails to change the facts. I am not asleep, and blood still coats my hands.

I clutch my arms to my chest, struggling to breathe while suffocating on the recollection of the evening’s events.

Reluctantly, I ease up the hem of my soiled dress revealing thighs still littered with bite marks.

My throat tightens as a choked sob falls past my lips.

A tear drops to my thigh, mixing with the dried blood along one of the marks.

He killed me.

Dropping the dress, my hands curl into fists at my side.

From the bite of my nails, I know crescent-shaped imprints will decorate my palms. I knew better than this.

Being human, I knew to stay far away from anything paranormal.

They will never treat humans as equals. Just something to be discarded or preyed upon.

Yet here I am, foolishly agreeing to a date with a vampire, and he fucking killed me.

Catching my own gaze in the bedroom vanity, a hundred questions race through my mind.

Mainly, how can I be in my apartment — be alive when I remember dying in the shadows behind that restaurant?

Taking in the full extent of the damage: my skin far too pale, fiery eyes now extinguished of their light, the blood staining the freshly lightened strands of my hair…

Knowing how I ended up here seems unnecessary. I just need to get the fuck out.

Leaving the city looking like I’d crawled out of a grave was not an option.

Steam paints the bathroom mirror as the shower heats.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I peel off the ruined dress.

The trash can tilts as the ruined fabric drops inside but rights itself before falling. Nodding once, I step into the shower.

The water runs over me, a sigh escaping as I relish the warmth.

The puddle at my feet runs red. My eyes quickly dart to the ceiling as I try to think of anything else.

This was supposed to be my last week in Angel’s Rest. One last week in this city long since abandoned by any gods, in my current contract with Evadne. I opted not to renew for another term.

Evadne. My agent turned friend. Would she miss me or wonder where I’ve gone? Lathering shampoo through my hair, I know it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t know me. Not the real me — no one here does.

I carefully crafted my appearance and changed my persona to make sure of that. Still, out of everything I’ve encountered in the past six years, letting go of Evadne will be the hardest. My lips turn down. If only I could’ve known how this would end; I never would have accepted her offer at all.

My mind replays the choices that led me here.

Suffering through Tarot Lake’s scorching summers and chilling winters.

Knowing I was different from my peers at school, who seemed to have any and everything they could ever want or need, while seeing the weight my mom carried from the stress of finances. Being powerless to ease the load.

I didn’t want to be powerless anymore. I saw how others had found success with social media, some of which were even younger than me. Even though most of the creators I followed were their authentic self on camera from what I could tell, I wanted to be someone different.

I placed an ad in the local paper and worked odd jobs until I had enough cash for a new wardrobe. With my dark hair dyed blond, I started posting videos. I faked my confidence until it became real. Content creation came easy to me and quite quickly my audience grew.

Just before turning eighteen, a video went viral drawing traffic to my Hourglass page unlike anything I’d ever seen.

Soon after, Evadne Evans was desperate to recruit me, promising numbers in my bank account I’d never dreamed possible.

The only real stipulation was relocating to Angel’s Rest, California to attend monthly meetings on improving views and engagement.

While also giving me new brands to work with.

Moving eighteen hours from home seemed daunting. Tennessee was all I’d ever known. Throughout my childhood, I’d never even left the state.

Ultimately, the decision seemed easy. Take the money. My mother had drilled that sentiment into my mind from a young age. Always take the money. The contract failed to mention that those flimsy green papers would take valuable pieces of myself whether I gave them willingly or not.

With a sigh, I begin scrubbing the dried blood from my legs as the vanilla scent of my favorite soap relaxes my tense muscles.

Once my life started picking up in Angel’s Rest, I began reluctantly going to parties with Evadne. Sometimes they were held by brands that would sponsor me. The wealthiest figures Angel’s Rest had to offer would often grace or fund these parties, and they spared no expense.

Unlike me with the intention of saving as much as possible.

A pang of sadness echoes through my chest. I was just shy of the goal I set for myself.

My plan had been to make enough here to give myself five years without worrying over a job.

Allowing me to dedicate all my time to my dream of opening a photography studio.

The money I’d made still makes that possible, but the timeline will be far shorter before I’d need to return to the work force. Three years max. Realistically? More like two. I let the water run down my back as I chew on my bottom lip.

I can’t worry about that now. I need to focus. Though focusing is the last thing my mind wants to do at present.

My thoughts shift back to a particular one of those lavish parties where the monster that is Enzo Hawthorne presented himself to me.

He had the striking face, blond hair and baby blues.

A body that could rival the intricate statues in museums, and even skin as smooth and pale to match.

Enzo could have easily taken home any man or woman.

Creators… why did he have to fixate on me?

My dating track record isn’t exactly glowing. A series of situationships with only one serious relationship. Which ended disastrously, both emotionally and sexually. I wasn’t jumping at the idea of getting back into the pool.

Enzo didn’t mind the chase. Showing up with flowers after my meetings, even setting up our own business chats at my favorite local cafe. He always offered an insane brand deal with his largely successful corporation, complete with an offer of a date at the end of every meeting.

Turning him down wasn’t entirely from fear of dating.

I simply didn’t want to tangle our professional and personal lives.

Not to mention the fact that he was a vampire.

As it goes, his pretty words and generous gifts finally wore me down.

That’s the last time I go against my instincts.

Unfortunately, I learned in the worst way that beneath the skin lies an insidious, murderous heart.

Wrapping a cream-colored towel around my chest, the dark part of my brain unleashes the jokes.

At least he killed you before you could be disappointed by another man in the bedroom.

A quick huff of laughter escapes me as I slip into the closet.

I suppose I should stop saying he killed me.

After all, I’m standing here alive and breathing.

Still, I can’t shake the memory of the blinding pain from the fangs.

The hazy film that took over my vision as my head drooped lower and lower…

The thump of my heart, agonizingly quick from fear in the beginning, but slowing to a stop in the end.

Perhaps I just don’t remember correctly?

Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me, overloaded with stress.

It’s possible my heart didn’t stop entirely and I’m just confusing it with blacking out.

My brows pinch as my eyes fall to my thighs in the mirror once more.

Scars to remind me what I knew all along.

Never trust the paranormal. A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it.

I let it fall. Allow myself to just breathe for a moment.

To just feel, remind myself that I am still alive.

Humans may be rare in our society, but I will settle for nothing less.

Not after this. I could never feel comfortable opening myself up to a paranormal again.

Straightening my shoulders, I push a cluster of flashy dresses to the side, revealing the safe built into the closet wall. As soon as the click sounds after typing in the code, my shoulders drop, a deep sigh of relief pushing past my lips. These are my hidden treasures — my reminders of home.

Reaching to the shelf above, I grab and slip into a sports bra and pair of panties.

Returning to the safe I eagerly pull out my go-to outfit: baggy sweatpants and an oversized sweater.

I came to Angel’s Rest to get ahead, to do better for myself.

Yet, the feel of this soft, familiar fabric against my skin makes me question why I ever felt the need to chase money in the first place.

Life was infinitely easier and safer in Tarot Lake.

Mom and I may not have had many material things, but the love we shared made us rich in another way.

Perhaps she was always the driving factor of me taking matters into my own hands.

I always wanted to ease her load; she deserved the best things life had to offer.

After all, she sacrificed so much of herself to raise me on her own after my father vanished.

Remembering the gleam in her eyes when I was able to fund the setup of her own grooming shop, the motivation becomes clear.

Not to say I didn’t want nice things for myself.

A home I could design on my own and the expensive camera and lenses to improve my passion for photography.

Although the camera hasn’t been acquired yet, I did have my house built.

Of course, I offered my mom the same, but she refused me and purchased her own tiny home with revenue from her business.

Since I’m overly cautious with my identity, I’ve only actually seen my house three times.

Once to discuss the placement and blueprint, then check the framing, and finally to see the layout of all the rooms before the finishing touches were added.

I’d never felt more at home than when I’d stepped inside.

I designed the house with two things in mind. Raising a family or opening the photography studio of my dreams. Whichever happens first.

Returning is long overdue.

I pocket the remaining items in the safe.

My old wallet with my I.D. cards and a little cash, and a gold necklace sporting a beautiful iridescent stone.

The necklace is supposedly from my father, but I’m not entirely sure I believe that.

I’ve never met him. Mom has offered to tell me about him, but I would rather not know.

He abandoned me as a child; he isn’t worthy of knowing me now.

Regardless, I’ve always kept the necklace. It is quite gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like it before with its otherworldly sheen. Fastening the smooth chain behind my neck, the gem slips under my sweater. Then I click the safe shut, sliding the dresses back in place to conceal it.

Pulling on some casual black sneakers, I thread my hair into a tight braid, then flip it behind my back. One last glance in the mirror has a satisfied smirk tugging at my lips. I spent six years drawing attention to myself. Wearing whatever sponsors sent or what Evadne suggested was trending.

Tonight though, I can fade into the background where I find myself most comfortable.

Tonight, I am ever thankful for my mom’s advice to not only alter my appearance, but to never tell anyone my real name. I used to think she was overly paranoid. Now I’ve come to realize how sacred our identities are.

The reflection staring back at me is the polar opposite of that carefully crafted facade. The woman I’ve spent the last six years camouflaging myself as wouldn’t be caught dead in this outfit.

Tonight, Ame Langley from Quartzville will disappear off the face of the Earth.