Read Bluehour (A Watermagic Novel) Online

Authors: Brighton Hill

Tags: #romance, #horror, #paranormal romance, #fantasy, #paranormal, #young adult, #teen, #ya, #young adult romance, #sirens, #mermaids, #teen romance, #teen fantasy, #young adult fantasy, #young adult horror, #teen horror

Bluehour (A Watermagic Novel) (20 page)

BOOK: Bluehour (A Watermagic Novel)
6.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

I got out of bed and started to pace. My
thoughts were driving me crazy. What if Laurent didn’t come back? I
didn’t even know how to get home from here. And if I left, Sabine
would find me and murder me just like she and her school killed
Mandy.

But Laurent would come back. I knew he would,
but what if he got hurt? My thoughts tortured me. I just had to be
patient and wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

I must have dosed off because I woke up with
a woman with a long drawn face standing beside the bed staring at
me quizzically. “Hey there, little missy.” Her voice cackled as she
spoke, most likely a smoker. “You want to pay for the room?”

“Oh.” I set up startled.

She was dangling the room keys before my
face.

I rubbed my eyes as I tried to figure out
what to say. “When we got here, nobody was home,” I babbled, not
knowing if I was even speaking coherently.

“That power outage set us batty and Pa and me
made it to the station for parts. A waste of time.” She shook her
head and dusted off her apron. “When we come in, our electrical was
working regular. Was it dark when you come?” Her eyes squinted and
her jaw jutted out.

“Uh, yeah.” I scooted to the edge of the bed
and let my legs hang down the side. “My husband had to go out, but
when he returns, he’ll pay you.”

The lady smiled, making lots of wrinkles on
the sides of her middle aged face. “Come down for dinner then,” she
insisted.

“With you?” I asked, feeling entirely awkward
and out of sorts. I had never been to a bed and breakfast or even a
hotel for that matter.

She laughed a dry throaty sound and walked
out of the room locking the door behind her.

I didn’t know what to do. It was late by now.
The clock showed that it was after seven. My parents would be
worrying soon. I felt a sickened feeling in the pit of my
stomach.

I thought about walking down those stairs,
through that creepy living room with all the animals, and into the
kitchen to eat dinner with a couple of weirdoes. The idea was
unsettling to say the least. But I was starved. Even stuffed bear
was sounding appetizing at this point. I decided to take a chance
and just go for it.

The living room was scary even with the
lights on. Every animal looked like it was ready to attack even a
stuffed owl perched on the ceiling beams. Who in the world would
want to live like this?

When I got to the kitchen, the woman’s middle
aged husband was slicing a roast at the table while she stirred a
black kettle pot of beans and potatoes. Sitting down at the table
was a tall lanky man in his twenties and a very old woman who
looked like she was half dead.

“Howdy,” the woman’s husband said to me
cheerily. “Welcome.”

“Thank you,” I responded somewhat
hesitantly.

“I’m Willy and my wife is Erma.” His wife
waved her fingers without looking up from the stew where she
hunched over. “And these are our renters, Bob and Juanita.”

“Hey, there,” Bob said in a dreary voice. He
looked depressed. “I hope you enjoy your stay. Willy and Erm are
great.”

“Thanks there boy.” Willy slapped Bob on the
back and his thin body sort of flew forward unexpectedly.

Juanita just sat there nodding with a smile
on her ancient face. She was mumbling something that sounded
religious, but I could hardly hear her.

Erma carried the big black pot of stew and
crashed it down on the table in the center. Some of it sloshed out,
but she just left it there.

Bob stood up and held a seat out for me
between him and Juanita. I sat down wishing we could get on with
the meal so I could leave this freak show.

Everybody folded hands except for me. Willy
said a dinner prayer with lots of unexpected hallelujahs. And then
the meal began. I was surprised. The food was fantastic and I don’t
think it was just because I was starving. It was seasoned
exceptionally well.

“So where you from?” Willy asked me.

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t
want anyone to get suspicious if they saw pictures of me on TV that
I was missing from Santa Monica. “My husband is from France. We’ve
been living in Paris for some time.”

Nobody seemed to know anything about France,
so their questions were simple and easy to answer.

“Lots of wine there, eh?” Willy asked.

“Yes, the vineyards are beautiful.”

“What college do you go to?” Bob mumbled as
he picked at his food.

I shrugged. “I work at a donut shop on a
country road just off the highway.” I tried to eat fast before I
made up too many lies. I was afraid to say too much before setting
a plan with Laurent. Suspicions could rise, if Laurent’s stories
didn’t match up.”

“You have to teach me how to make them
donuts,” Erma said with a mouthful of food.

“Oh, yeah—great idea.” I stood up quickly
realizing if I taught her how to cook, I’d probably burn down her
house. Good job, Grace. Couldn’t you have picked a career that
didn’t involve cooking?

I took a hundred bucks that I found in
Laurent’s wallet out. “I’m not sure when my husband will be back,
so I want to pay for tonight.”

Willy hopped up. “That’s great. It’s sixty
five for the night.” I handed him the hundred and he gave me change
from his wallet. “Thank you, dear. We hope you enjoy your
stay.”

“Thanks.” I rushed away startled by a stuffed
lion beside the stairs.

When I got back to our room, I was delighted
to see Laurent relaxing on top of the bed. His hair was wet and
from the vanilla scent lifting off his body, I could tell that he
showered.

“I didn’t see you come in.” I had a big smile
on my face. “I gave the landlords sixty five dollars from your
wallet for the night. Is that okay?”

“Perfect.” His smile matched mine. “I was
hoping you’d do that.”

“Here’s the change.” I set it down on the
night stand next to the bed. “How did you get in here? I didn’t see
you come in through the front door.”

His smile turned mischievous. “Climbed up the
wall and came in through the French windows.” With that odd
explanation, he lifted his shirt.

I couldn’t help but blush. His body was
perfect, a golden tan with developed muscles and definition in all
the right places. “You want me to swoon,” I mumbled sarcastically.
“Is that why you are showing me your washboard stomach?”

He knitted his eyebrows together. Apparently,
he wasn’t trying to show off. “I just wanted to show you how I
climbed up to our room.”

“Oh!” I laughed and walked over to him
hesitantly.

“Look right here.” He touched his lower abs
just above the waistband of his shorts.

I leaned in slightly, feeling
embarrassed.

He rubbed his finger upwards over his skin.
“Under this flap are suctions.”

My eyes widened in shock. I looked
closer.

Without rubbing, his skin looked like any
other hot and physically fit teenage boy’s with a mesmerizing tan,
but when he dragged his finger over it, the surface lifted and sure
enough there were many small suctions all the way across the lower
section of his stomach. It was truly amazing.

“I can maneuver my way up anything with
these.” He was holding the skin back. Then he looked at me. “You
can touch them if you want. I’m starting to gain better self
control around you. The more I’m with you, the better I get. And I
just ate, so I won’t hurt you.”

I tried to run my finger over the small
suctions, but they grabbed me. In surprise, I tried to move back,
but my finger was stuck.

He chuckled softly. “It’s okay.” He was
watching the expressions on my face. “I don’t want to let you
go—that’s why you remain attached, but if I override my will, I can
release you.” His eyes were smoldering as he gazed at me.

I placed my other hand on the suctions and
they grabbed me again. We were attached. Butterflies fluttered in
my stomach.

He smiled at my surprise and then he released
me.

I was disappointed; I didn’t want him to let
me go.

When I looked at him, his expression was
mysterious. “I’ve never showed anyone those.”

“I won’t tell, if you don’t,” I teased,
trying to hide my utter infatuation.

“It’s still difficult for me to be around
you,” he said darkly. “I feel an overwhelming draw to you that I
have never felt around anyone in my entire life.”

“Why me?” I asked, baffled.

His eyes narrowed. “There is something about
the rhythms of your inner body that confuse me. I feel the pounding
of your heartbeat in the air. The vibrations seem stronger than
other humans. Usually I smell other people and sense their location
from their frequencies. But, with you, the frequency is much
stronger, pounding against my own inner being. If they are like
dripping water, you are like a waterfall. And your scent is mouth
watering. It overwhelms me.”

I was stunned; I couldn’t respond. Nobody had
ever talked about me like that. I felt the blood rising to my
face.

“I feel the change in your body now,” he
whispered with his eyes closed. “Your blood is pulsating. The
feeling is intense.” He opened his eyes and looked at me
softly.

“I experience something different,” I said,
“…but for me it is an electrical current between us. It is almost
like a light force rushes through my body while in your presence.”
I blushed even redder at my admittance.

He shifted his position. “I felt that too. I
fear losing control.”

I touched his hand lightly.

He started to retreat, but moved back to the
original position. “The rushing of blood through your veins…” he
murmured. “The sensation is difficult to describe.”

I ran my hand lightly over his arm. His skin
had a slightly smoother, more elastic quality than that of a human.
He tensed. The muscles raised beneath the surface, but he held his
position. “I don’t want to cause you discomfort,” I whispered.

He nodded. “I’m okay.” His body relaxed
slightly. “Can I touch your hair?” He asked in his rhythmic
voice.

“My hair?” I sounded surprised.

“Your hair is beautiful,” he murmured as he
placed his hand lightly at my forehead and ran it slowly down my
locks.”

I caught my breath and he did the same
movement again, running his hand from the top of my head down my
hair. I wanted to hold him and pull him to me, but instinctually, I
knew he needed to get used to me. I couldn’t move so fast.

I placed my hand on his chest. “There it is,”
I spoke just above a whisper. “Your heartbeat. I can feel it
racing.” The rhythm was much faster than I had expected. It excited
me.

Now he set his hand lightly above my chest.
“You can’t know what this feels like.” His nostrils started to
flare, but then relaxed. He pulled his hand away and shook his head
side to side.

His expression was unreadable. “Let’s watch
TV,” he suggested as he motioned me to sit on the other side of the
bed.

“Okay,” I mumbled, trying to hide my
disappointment. As much as I didn’t want to worry, I was afraid I
did something wrong. I sat down on the far edge, propping a pillow
up to lean against. My heart was pounding fast in my chest feeling
the electricity between us even though there was a considerable
distance apart now.

He started flipping through the channels. A
soft breeze blew through the window. I felt the fine hairs lifting
on my arms. It was so hard not to touch him, so difficult keeping
the rhythms of my breath steady.

“Do you like documentaries?” He pointed the
remote at the television to change the channel.

I half laughed. “That’s practically all I
watch.” I thought of my dad and how much he must be worrying about
me by now. That was enough of a distraction to steady my breathing,
but I felt emotional.

When he turned on the same documentary about
ancient Greece that my father and I had just watched, a tear ran
down my cheek.

Laurent looked over at me. His nose flared
suddenly and his jaw clenched. “Saltwater,” he whispered as he
jumped off the bed. His eyes narrowed as he stared at me. And then
to my utter shock, he jumped on me, straddling my body with his
legs and licked the tear off my face. In a flash he was gone. He
disappeared from the room.

  1. Only You

I rushed to the bathroom, throwing the door
open. Laurent was sitting by the edge of the Jacuzzi tub. “Don’t
come any closer,” he warned.

I stood in the doorway. “It’s okay,” I
whispered. My heart was racing. My body felt enlivened. It took
everything within me not to run over to him and take him into my
arms.

“You were sad,” he whispered now. His
electric blue eyes were bloodshot. “What made you cry?”

I held to the moldings on the doorway. “I’m
upset that my parents don’t know where I am. They must be worrying
out of their minds. We had a fight this morning and they probably
think I ran away.”

He sighed. “I have brought horror to you and
your family. It kills me to let you suffer as you are. I told you
to stay away from me.” His voice turned angry.

“There’s no choice, Laurent. I can’t stay
away from you and it is not your fault. This is just our fate, our
destiny and we have no real control.”

He walked toward me and took my hand in his.
His body heat warmed my senses. Tingling sensations ran up and down
my body. He placed my hand against his chest. I looked up at his
beautiful blue eyes as I felt his heartbeat racing once again. “I
don’t have a choice, Grace. You are right. I will do everything I
can to keep you alive. That is all that matters.”

I felt lost in his words, in the song of his
heart.

He looked at me carefully causing me to
wonder if he was going to kiss me. I yearned to feel his soft lips
against mine. Even though I had never kissed a boy in my life, I
wasn’t embarrassed to kiss Laurent. My desire felt so real and
true. But he didn’t kiss me. He brushed his finger down my
cheek.

BOOK: Bluehour (A Watermagic Novel)
6.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Cryostorm by Lynn Rush
Bossy Request by Lacey Silks
Ethan, Who Loved Carter by Ryan Loveless
Rhuddlan by Nancy Gebel
Semi-Detached by Griff Rhys Jones