Read Second Nature Online

Authors: Elizabeth Sharp

Tags: #romance nature angels fantasy paranormal magic, #angel urban life djinn gaia succubus

Second Nature

BY

 

* * * *

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * *

Second Nature

Copyright © 2011 by Elizabeth Sharp

Formatting by
JT
Formatting

Cover formatting by
Sharp Cover
Designs

Cover Photography:
K Keeton Desings

Cover Model: Bailey Jennings

All rights reserved. Without limiting the
rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system,
or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the
prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, brands, media, and incidents either are the product of the
author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author
acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various
products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used
without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not
authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark
owners.

 

 

To Shawn, for putting up with the insanity
that is my brain. Thank you for all you do, and especially for your
patience; I know you use a lot of it with me.

 

Table of
Contents

 

Chapter
One

Chapter
Two

Chapter
Three

Chapter
Four

Chapter
Five

Chapter
Six

Chapter
Seven

Chapter
Eight

Chapter
Nine

Chapter
Ten

Chapter
Eleven

Chapter
Twelve

Chapter
Thirteen

Chapter
Fourteen

Chapter
Fifteen

Chapter
Sixteen

Chapter
Seventeen

Chapter
Eighteen

Chapter
Nineteen

Chapter
Twenty

Chapter
Twenty-One

Chapter
Twenty-Two

Chapter
Twenty-Three

Chapter
Twenty-Four

Chapter
Twenty-Five

Chapter
Twenty-Six

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

Chapter
Twenty-Nine

Chapter
Thirty

Chapter
Thirty-One

Chapter
Thirty-Two

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About
the Author

 

 

THE HOT SUN baked my back, and sweat beaded
on my forehead. I wiped the back of my hand across my brow, cursing
the new security cameras. If it weren’t for the eye in the sky, I’d
have all of these flowerbeds weeded and healthier plants than any
other nursery in town. My boss claimed the cameras were to catch
vandals, but I had a suspicion he was more interested in my
methods. However, there was nothing to see except for hard work and
a lot of sweat. I used my abilities here and there to give the
greenhouse a little boost, but the large, flourishing greenery was
due to backbreaking labor and dedication—at least it was so long as
the cameras were here.

I wasn’t certain what I thought of working.
When you age ten years in a single night, getting the world to
believe you’re only fifteen can be tricky. Thanks to some forged
documents, I was now an 18 years old, high school graduate from
Cleveland, Ohio. The guy we’d hired to create our identities even
got me into the alumni society. I didn’t feel like I missed
anything, though I wondered about college.

Sometimes it sucked trying to blend into the
human world. Things hadn’t been coming up roses since I found out I
was a Gaia. Think of me as Mother Nature, or one of them anyway.
The mythical figure was based on a member of my race. I honestly
have no idea how many of us there are, since I’ve only met one
outside of my family.

I glanced at my watch, quitting time. My
back popped as I stood and stretched. Brushing dirt from my knees,
I gathered my things and headed into the office. My boss wasn’t
there, so I grabbed my purse and exited through the garden shop. I
waved goodbye to the checker, Gladys, who was chatting with some
regulars at the register. She smiled at me but didn’t say anything
as I headed out to the parking lot. My brother sat at the curb in
his new Mustang, dark sunglasses covering his unnaturally blue
eyes. He smiled at me as I climbed in; he loved this new life we
were living in North Carolina. I sighed, wishing I could find the
happiness both my siblings had. They were so much stronger than
me.

I climbed in and glanced at my new cell
phone but was disappointed to see I had no new messages. The cell
phone was a bitter reminder that I had no friends anymore. I think
there were only five people who even had the number, and I’d just
left two of them at the garden center. I’d always been kind of a
bookish loaner, but I still had friends. It wasn’t easy to make all
new connection in Greensboro when I had to hide so much of myself
from them. While there were parts of this new life I loved, like my
paychecks, I missed my friends and my home.

Xander drove through the quiet streets on
the outskirts of town to the beautiful house we had built. Our
childhood home brought in more money than we could have dreamed
possible and combined with our parents’ life insurance made
building a dream home reality It had taken the contractor eight
months and 15,000 workers—perhaps a slight exaggeration—but we
finally had a home—an enormous monstrosity of a home. The sight of
the house made me roll my eyes, but I loved the land it sat on. The
front yard looked like a botanical garden, with the limited
expanses of lawn seeming more like paths. There was a small orchard
in the back, with both peach and apple trees, and a vegetable
garden on the side that kept me supplied with organic food. One of
the hardest parts about being aGaia in the modern world is the lack
of natural products. Even things that say they’re organic sometimes
have preservatives in them that make them taste bitter. I would
give anything to enjoy a sweet, syrupy Coke again.

The security gate opened automatically, and
we parked in the circle driveway. Since I had given in to their
desire for the oversized house—or more likely it was a mansion—they
had given me a free hand with the decorating. The house had a
natural, organic flow, an earthy feel that made it feel like home
despite its size. The double front doors were floral-patterned,
stained glass framed in cherry wood, with matching length panels to
either side. When the doors opened, they revealed a large, open
living room. The mahogany railing along the sandstone stairs and
upstairs balcony reminded me of tree limbs. Two white suede sofas
sat facing each other across a polished wood coffee table with a
set of supple leather chairs on either end. The floor was made of
stone tile with a mosaic in the center featuring rings of floral
designs. At the back of the room was a set of simple wooden doors
that led to a pool surrounded by another garden.

I tossed my bag on a stone bench against the
wall and headed straight for the kitchen—some things never changed.
Sariah stood at the sink, rinsing and slicing veggies. Since our
parents’ death the year before, she had settled down from her wild
cat-in-heat ways and revealed a nurturing side I hadn’t expected.
She was a goddess in the kitchen, whipping up amazing meals we all
loved. Her blond hair bumped up in the front, then swept back into
a sleek ponytail like all the stars are wearing. That was the thing
with my sister, she had always seemed like a celebrity—minus the
paparazzi. I was more than half convinced she would look perfect in
the middle of a hurricane. I suppose it was part of being a
Succubus, but really, it was just unfair.

“The conquering hero returns,” she said with
a smile. “How goes life in the trenches?”

I made an unpleasant noise in my throat and
shot her a hard look. With my mouth twisted, I grabbed an apple out
of the bowl on the island and hopped up onto the counter. One of
the features all three of us had agreed on in the house was the
kitchen. It was a contrast of natural stone, honey colored wood and
gleaming stainless steel. The cabinet base was uneven masonry
block, and the counter tops were slate tile. Aside from the high
tech appliances, it looked like the kitchen we had all grown up in.
We had even hung the corkboard our mother used on the wall; the
notes in her familiar flowery script were preserved in resin so it
wouldn’t fade or wear away with time. This piece of the old and
familiar we brought with us to our exotic, new life served as a
comfort that some things would never change and a reminder of where
we came from.

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