The Death Series: A Dark Dystopian Fantasy Box Set: (Books 1-3) (80 page)

CHAPTER 1

Ten Years Later

Julia stuffed her wool cap down more firmly on her head and waded through the icy puddles on the way to her 1977 Chevy Blazer. Fall had edged into early winter and the dampness of the rain had solidified into a dangerous sheet of ice.

Julia had known better and instead of wearing the latest Ugg fashion boots she'd slogged on her XtraTufs. They had an unparalleled ugliness but did the job. She might keep her ass in the air instead of pegged on an ice puddle by wearing her trusty boots. She threw her backpack over one shoulder and balanced a steaming cup of coffee in the other hand. She'd lied through her teeth about the contents to Aunt Lily, who seemed to think caffeine was the devil's drink. Julia smiled at that. She thought she was done growing and besides, coffee was a mainstay of Alaskan existence. She shuffled to the driver's side and gripped the handle. Then her feet lost some of their purchase and she slid to the right, her coffee sloshing out of the slit on the travel mug.

“Shit!” Julia said, as a couple of hot drops landed on her wrist, scalding her.

Grappling with the handle she jerked the door open and threw her palm on the driver's seat, steadying herself until she could heave her backpack inside.

But her breath stilled in her lungs when she saw what waited for her.

A single rose, its tremulous form in a beautiful, ethereal tangerine color lay inches from where her reddened and chapped hand had slapped down.

She'd almost destroyed it while saving her sliding butt from falling.

A smile stole over her face and she carefully put her travel mug in the cup holder between the seats and picked up the flower.

No note.

But she knew who had laid it there.

Her fiancé, Jason. Actually, it was a secret. Lily would have ten different kinds of cows if she knew how serious they were.

She looked around, her breath coming in white puffs in the crisp air. The snow having not committed itself to falling yet, the promise still hung there in the air. It would be like him, Julia thought, to pop up and grab her from behind, twirling her around just as she discovered his present.

But he wasn't there.

Huh, she turned the keys and jacked up the heat all the way. Five minutes and she'd hit the road, head to Homer High. She was spoiled. Usually Jason picked her up but today she had to head over to the DMV and get a stupid emissions test. It was amazing they even allowed her to drive her gas-guzzling truck. She sighed. Soon, she'd be with Jason.

*

school

Julia tore off her multi-colored itchy hat as she waltzed into the school. The familiar smell of kids, books, lunch and all the other school fragrances wafting across the air, the chill of late fall left outside the doors.

She fluffed her champagne-colored hair, hoping to eradicate the hat head she'd tagged herself with on the way over.

“Hey, bestie!” Cynthia cried.

Julia laughed, like she hadn't just spent all day and a night last weekend with Cyn? She acted like they'd been separated for months.

“Hey Cyn,” Julia said slowing, letting her catch up.

As usual, Cyn was dressed to the nines. High heels, ridiculously tight-ass pants and the latest, off-the-shoulder top with a crazy zebra pattern. It made Julia dizzy looking at it.

“What?” Cynthia looked at Julia's face.

“Your top, it's like some kind of optical illusion or something.”

“I know, right? It's hot-hot-hot,” she snapped her fingers after each word for emphasis. Julia rolled her eyes, there was no cure for her Fashion Awareness.

Julia considered herself Fashion Challenged. Yessiree. Irrefutably. Getting everything to match and be comfortable was of utmost importance.

Of course, once Julia mentioned Cyn's shirt, then she was honor bound to give Julia the once-over. Scanned from the top of her head she had almost escaped the wrath when Cynthia's gaze landed like a lead weight on her boots.

“Argh!” she shrieked in horror. “You wore your Tufs to school again! And don't give me any of that horse shit about how we're seniors and absolved of everything,” she rolled her eyes dramatically, “fashion is the exception. And those,” she waggled her fingers at Julia's offending footwear, “are for...for...”

“Gardening only,” Jason interjected smoothly, his arm sliding around Julia's waist. He'd heard the XtraTufs speech before.

“Don't you defend her either!” Cynthia lambasted him and Jason, all mock innocence said, “Who me?” his hand to his chest.

Cynthia's eyes narrowed to slits. “You're no help, Jason Caldwell, she could wear a shapeless sack over her whole body and you'd still think she was gorgeous.”

“Guilty,” he said, his forehead dipping to peck Julia's head, still fuzzy from the hat.

Julia leaned back against his chest, her head tucking comfortably underneath his chin and sighed. This is where she'd wanted to be from the moment she opened her eyes. Against him, soaking up his warmth. Letting it seep into her bones and chase the coldness of the morning away.

Cyn snapped her fingers in front of Julia's face, “snap out of it Jules!”

Jason laughed, Julia was known to mentally wander. It was becoming an annoying theme lately.

“What? Cranky witch!” Julia teased, taking a swipe at Cyn with her woolen hat.

She ducked smoothly, accustomed to Julia's abuse. “Okay... so, did you get that English paper done we started on Friday?”

Julia dug around in her backpack until she found a crumpled piece of paper at the bottom and turning, she slapped it against her locker, smoothing it with her other hand. Jason's big hand was a warm presence on her shoulder, kneading it softly.

“Are you kidding? Terrell will never accept that mess,” Cynthia said, throwing out one hip and putting a hand on the jutting point.

Julia shrugged a shoulder. “It's a rough draft. Besides, keeping the standard low like I do assures me gravy when I turn something in.”

Julia smiled at her awesome logic. School just didn't appeal. It was something she survived until she could graduate. It was Jason that was going to University of Alaska Anchorage. He was set with a full ride.

Mr. Basketball. Julia turned to look at him and wondered for the millionth time why he'd want her. He was so gorgeous and she was so... her. It didn't matter that Cyn thought she was pretty. Whatever. Cyn was her BFF, that's what they do, cheerlead.

Julia still didn't have A Plan. She knew she couldn't wait to get out of Aunt Lily's place and begin a life with Jason.

Cynthia gave an elaborate roll of her eyes and caved, saying, “You can try all your down home weasel-like charm on Terrell while Jason and I turn in real papers. Unwrinkled papers.” She cocked her brows up to her hairline and looping her arm through Julia's, she dragged her to block one.

The Dreaded Language Arts. Everyone knew there was nothing artful about it. Jason laughed as they trudged to class, Julia's arms linked with theirs.

#

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Volume One

Copyright © 2013 Marata Eros

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“Love sears the heart immortal

The embers burnt down to the token which remains ....”

~
Prologue
~

“You're dying,” Dr. Matthews says.

Two words.

Final.

Complete.

Desolate.

I feel my fingers clench the armrests of the chair underneath me, but the rest of my body remains numb.

If his words aren't enough to convince me, I see my silence is a prevailing annoyance in his day.

Dr. Matthews walks stiffly, making his way to the softly glowing X-ray reader.

I flinch when he slaps the photo of the soft tissue of my brain against the magnetic tabs of the lit surface.

The light glows around the tumor, immortalizing the end of my life like an emblazoned tool of disregard.

Just the facts, ma’am.

I sway as I stand, gripping the solid oak of his desk. It's very large, an anchor in the middle of his prestigious office full of the affectations of his career.

I walk toward Matthews. His hard face is edged by what might be sympathy. After all, it's not every day he tells a twenty-two-year-old woman she's got moments to live.

Actually, I do have time—months.

It's just not enough.

I look at the mess that's my brain, at the damning half a golf ball buried in a spot that will make me a vegetable if they operate. My eyes slide to the name at the bottom. For a split second, I hope to see another name there. But my own greets me.

Mitchell, Faren.

I back up and Matthews reaches to steady me.

But it's too late.

I spin and run out of his office as his voice calls after me. The corners of my coat sail behind me as I slap the metal hospital door open and take the cement steps two at a time.

I see my car parked across the street and race to it. My escape, my despair, is a thundering initiative I can't deny.

I miss the hit as if it happens to someone else. Only the noise permeates my senses as light flashes in my peripheral vision, mirrors against sunlight. I tumble in a slow spin of limbs. My body heaves and rolls, hitting the asphalt with a breath-stealing slap.

I lie against the rough black road. My lungs beg for air, burning for oxygen, and finally I take a sucking inhale that tears through my lungs.

The wet road feels cool against my face as I watch someone come into my line of sight. My body burns and my head aches. My arm is a slim exclamation point from my body, my fingers twitching. I can't make them stop. I can't make anything stop.

Powerless.

The doctor is too late with his condemning words. I've already died. I know this because the man who approaches is an angel. A helmet comes off hair so deep auburn it's a low-burning lick of flame. He swims toward me like a mirage, walking in a surreal slow motion. I blink, and my vision blurs. I try to raise my arm to wipe my eyes and whimper when it disobeys my command.

My angel crouches down, his eyes a deep brown, belying the dark bronze of his hair. “Shhh... I got you.” His voice is a deep melody.

I sigh. Safe.

I try to focus on him but the helmet he parks next to his boots becomes three as my vision triples.

There's a scuffle and I try to move to see what all the commotion's about. The angel wraps his warm large hand around my smaller one and  smiles. “It's going to be okay.”

That's when I know I'm not in heaven.

That's what people say when nothing is okay.