2. Amethyst
Two
Amethyst
T he trash bag drops silently into the dumpster as if even it knows we’re on a stealth mission.
If Enzo comes back to my apartment, he’ll find no trace of me.
I cross my fingers and hope beyond hope that he assumes the worst. The best-case scenario is that he believes I’m dead.
That all of Angel’s Rest believes the same.
Not that I’ve ever extensively planned out what to do after almost being murdered, but I assumed throwing away the bloodied clothes would make it seem like I had immediately left the apartment in that same outfit.
And given the state I was in, I surely couldn’t have made it far.
Perhaps I was carried away by a wild animal or walked off a cliff. Maybe I was struck by a car or…
An older model minivan comes to a stop in front of me, interrupting my completely normal thoughts of how my own death could occur. Get a grip, Amethyst. No one will be looking for me anyway; they’ll be looking for Ame.
“Moooooom! I’m bored!” A tiny voice calls from the backseat as the passenger side window rolls down.
“You told me we could go home.” The young girl whines.
“She’s right, you did say that.” An older sounding boy confirms. “I know what I said. I’m sorry.
Please just count a few more red cars?” The driver pleads, turning to me with apologetic eyes, “I’m so sorry, ma’am, please pay them no mind. The sitter canceled last minute.”
My heart aches for the trio. “No worries at all, you’re Jessa?
” I ask, desperation coating the words as I read the name from the ride share app on my phone.
Usually, the driver should prompt the passenger for a name.
I just don’t feel like sticking around any longer than necessary. “That’s me.” She smiles.
“Climb on in, I’ll have you there in no time,” she glances toward her phone, “Amethyst.” I hop in the passenger’s seat, leaving one foot hovering just outside of the door. “Actually, could you give me just a moment, please?” Jessa nods, “Of course.”
I complete the ride in the app, making sure to add a tip large enough that Jessa could take the next two weeks off if she chose to.
I quickly swipe into settings and reset the phone to its factory defaults.
Without another thought I fling it against the concrete and stomp my foot on top of it for good measure.
Satisfied with the amount of crackling from my phone’s glass, I put the mangled device into my lap. “Ready,” I nod, clicking the door shut. Jessa’s phone dings from the air vent holder, and her eyebrows touch her hair as she takes in the tip amount, I assume.
She glances at the shattered phone in my hands. A silent moment passes between us, and before I can stop myself, I’m wondering if she’s paranormal. I bite the inside of my cheek to scold myself. Without a word, she shifts into drive, pulling off the curb into the bustling traffic.
Jessa told no lies when she said she’d have me to the airport in no time. After all my years in the city, not once can I recall getting here this quickly. I’m reaching for the door handle before the car even comes to a stop.
With one foot already resting on the concrete, I turn to Jessa. “Thank you, truly. You’ve helped me more than you know.” With a glance into the back seat, I notice the children sleeping. A warm smile settles on my face, “Best wishes, take care of yourselves.”
Stepping inside, the high vaulted ceilings never cease to draw my attention. Following the tiers of the chandeliers downward, the foot traffic is much less than I anticipated. Thank the Creators for that good fortune.
I slip into the bathroom and drop my broken phone into the trash before allowing myself one quick glance in the mirror. I take a deep, steadying breath, telling my reflection; you’ve got this. Just running away from my murderer, no big deal.
As my shoulder pushes against the door to open it, I bite the tip of my thumbnail, looking back toward the trash.
Swiftly, I peek back into the can to make sure the phone isn’t visible amongst all the waste.
Satisfied to see only crinkled, brown paper towels, I let the lid swing shut and return to the lobby.
There would be no way to track me. I made sure of that. Then why, as I stand frozen, eyes locked on the ticket sales counter, does a chill still snake down my spine?
Gliding across the black tiles, I come to a halt at the counter. “Evening.” The woman behind the desk greets me curtly. She lazily glances up, one eyebrow raised, before turning her sight back to the screen in front of her.
Clearly, she wants me to say what I need without her having to ask. I’d become fixated on the curled horns atop her head — a demon. Fuck, I’m being weird. The paranormal are allowed to exist.
Clearing my throat, I find my voice. “Hi, I need a one-way trip to Quartzville.” Glancing over my shoulder on instinct to make sure no one is following me, or noticed who I am, I add a bit more urgently, “As fast as possible, please.”
Without a word, she rapidly clicks on her keyboard. After a few moments, she leans back in her chair, giving me her full attention. “Had a cancellation on the next flight out. Departure is in thirty. Just need an I.D. if the price on the screen works for you, the seat is yours.”
She may be a woman of few words but in this moment, she’s my hero. “Sure thing!” I practically sing as I reach into my wallet and pull out my I.D. for her. The price on the pin pad could have been anything, and I would’ve paid it.
I tap a card to the middle of the screen, not caring which one I had grabbed, or which account it was pulling from. The only thing that matters at present is that I’m going home!
The woman nods her head a few times while typing my information. Then she swivels in her chair, grabbing a paper off the printer and adding a stamp to the bottom.
“Here you are, Miss Owens,” she grins slightly, handing me the paper ticket along with my I.D. “Hope you have a safe flight, gate 6A.”
Clutching the paper to my chest, I beam, “Thank you, have a wonderful night!” I toss the last words over my shoulder, hurrying off toward my gate. Despite this giddy feeling of success and good luck, I’ll breathe easier once I’m on the plane.
I breeze through security thanks to my lack of luggage and slip past the stocky man in the middle seat and into mine by the window. He is sprawled, a sleep mask covering his eyes, achieving a level of comfort I could only dream of on a plane.
A sigh of relief leaves my lips as I stare out at the endless twinkling lights. Soon, the city’s glow will be replaced by starlight and miles of empty sky.
Moving away only solidified a truth I’d always known — Tennessee is my home. Since coming to California, I’ve never stopped looking in the rearview.
Finally, it’s time to turn around.
The plane jerks as it hits the runway, jostling me awake. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but at least with a little rest I’ll be able to make the drive home easier.
My groggy mind wanders back to the blood-stained clothes and fang-shaped scars, but I quickly shake my head to clear it. Inhaling a long breath in my nose and blowing it out through my lips, I force my brain to change the subject.
I’ve arrived in Quartzville. Now nothing but a mere three hours, give or take, stands between myself and freedom.
Mom will be ecstatic to see me. As will my faded white jeep, Delilah.
I imagine how the cool breeze will feel gliding over my skin as it shakes the last rusted leaves from their branches.
As I shuffle off the plane, my mental check list begins falling into place. The first order of business is, without a doubt, visiting Meisha, my beloved hair stylist. I’m eager to return to my roots; in every sense of the word.
Stopping a bit too abruptly, the man behind me clips me with his shoulder. “Sorry!” I call out, but he’s gone by the time the last syllable leaves my mouth.
With a shrug, I turn back to the airport map, tracing a line across the board from the “You Are Here” star to the vehicle rental center. Naturally, it’s the farthest location from this terminal.
Brushing my hair behind my ears and straightening my shoulders, for the first time possibly ever, I realize that doesn’t matter. I am on my own time now. There’s a newfound peppiness to my steps as they carry me toward the shuttle stop, and I revel in the tranquility of being alone.
By nothing short of divine intervention, renting a car goes smoothly. I sit in the blue sedan much sooner than I expected, flipping through the options on the built-in screen.
Navigation is included, thankfully. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve been home and I’m not sure that I could’ve found Tarot Lake without it. There’s one turn in particular that always sneaks up on me. I can’t count the number of times I’ve almost missed it.
Still, even being lost would be vastly preferred to being followed by my attacker. With any amount of luck, my phone is being smashed in a garbage truck right about now. I click on the radio not bothering to find a station I like, eager to get on the road.
The GPS cuts through the lively tune to alert me that my exit is in one mile and quoting my arrival time at 5:02 a.m. That pre-dawn hour is now my salvation. A thought my sleep-till-noon-self has never had before.
Fighting the heaviness of my eyes, I decide to test my luck and press harder on the gas. At least now I have plenty of ticket money. It seems like no time before the scenery begins to grow more familiar.
With around twenty minutes left in the trip, the soft glow of Tarot Lake graces the windshield. My mom and I have always lived in the countryside but passing through the main part of town is the only route.
As if on instinct, I roll the window down breathing in the cool autumn air. Tears threaten to fall. A warmth permeating my chest seeing all the familiar buildings.
The corner diner, a small gas station with the best cheese sticks you’ll ever find, and Burrow’s, the only place to buy groceries or household supplies for at least thirty miles.
Sadly, tonight I won’t see my favorite spot, The Gourmet Grimoire. A twenty-four-hour coffee shop. Dubbed GGs by the locals.
I used to question who would need coffee in the middle of the night.
However, after my many long nights in Angel’s Rest filming plus editing videos and needing that extra boost of energy, it all made sense.
The city had twenty-four-hour everything.
Shops, bakeries, and restaurants, all catered toward vampires and demons.
I try, unsuccessfully, to switch my train of thought before I ruin GGs for myself. My mental checklist will thankfully bring me there tomorrow, as the coffee shop is located just next to Meisha’s salon. I don’t want to be stuck in my head about the paranormal the entire time I’m there.
They aren’t all bad. I try to remind myself, just the ones with sharp teeth.
Meisha is a witch, after all. Perhaps she is working literal magic on my hair.
However, asking my body, which is very much still in fight or flight mode, to differentiate between the species is impossible. Paranormal equals danger.
Although I desperately need Meisha’s services, now a vanilla latte and blueberry scone seems more important.
They are my ultimate comfort items, and I’ve yet to find a latte that can rival Grimoire’s.
I’ll stop in and grab she and myself one on the way and pray that the caffeine is enough motivation for her to squeeze me in for a color.
The click of the left blinker signals the last leg of my journey. Highway 18, Creekside Circle, and then my driveway. Adrenaline grows in the last few minutes, reaching a peak as the tires crunch against the gravel driveway.
Despite the overflow of joy, a chill creeps down my spine, bumps pebbling across my arms. The chances of Enzo following me here are practically nonexistent, but I can’t shake the unease clouding my mind.
Once I make it inside and confirm there’s no monsters in the dark, then I can breathe. Then I can rest.
Repeating my new mantra, I slide out of the car, leaving it running for now to allow the headlights’ shimmer to guide me. My steps slow to a halt at the flowerbed to the right of the door.
Kneeling, I count three stones over, carefully loosening the brick to reveal the strategically placed key. With the stone secure and snug, I turn the key in the lock and push the door open.
Hesitation envelops me. Gathering my strength, I rush in, flipping on the lights in the entry with a speed I didn’t know I possessed.
My feet barely touch the floor as I dash through the house turning the rest of the lights on.
Kitchen, living room, sunroom: clear. Pace slowing with relief, I check each of the four bedrooms and two bathrooms.
When building this house, I had multi-functionality in mind.
Filming rooms, an office, reading area: all check.
Being able to function as my dream studio?
Yes, got it covered. If I were to have little ones?
Check. Although that sentiment could not be further from my mind at present. I suppose three offices couldn’t hurt.
I’m satisfied with my findings of stale bread and a freshly made bed, courtesy of Mom keeping the house up for me in my absence.
I step back outside to turn off the rental car. After killing the engine, my body goes on autopilot, feet carrying me straight into the ensuite.
My body begs for a second shower. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I am happy to oblige. Few things could stand between me and a hot shower. Sleep is not one of them.
Eagerly twisting the handles to start the water, I spin around and once again come face to face with myself in the mirror. This time, the vision before me is far more alluring.
Color has returned to my skin and my eyes hold more of their usual honey-toned luster. My nose crinkles; the blond hair definitely needs to go. Steam fogs the mirror, my sign to step in.
Therapeutic heat seeps into my skin, relaxing my muscles and mind alike. Feeling like I could drift off standing up, I quickly go through the motions.
Rinsing away the last of the sudsy bubbles, my fingers thread through my hair as I take a few more moments letting the water glide over me.
As a yawn escapes, I turn off the shower and wrap myself in a fluffy dark green towel. The exhaustion of the trip, and of the last few years if I’m honest, weighs down on me. Dragging my feet, I step into the bedroom and barely manage to pull on some sweats before collapsing in the bed.
Although morning sunlight is peeking through the curtains, a soothing calmness blankets me. I am home safe and everything is as it should be.