The Phoenix Prophecy: Nova

“Come on, Mack, that’s enough.” I reach over the bar and nudge the whiskey glass from my friend’s hand. As I do, his steely blue eyes flash with annoyance. When he looks at me like that, it reminds me of the first time I met him. At the Academy. When he was my professor, not my roommate.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Kole,” he growls, rubbing his neat gray beard with his thumb and index finger.

“I know you don’t.” I slide him a glass of water, then fold my arms in front of my chest. “But three hundred and sixty-four days a year, you take care of this town. So, just this once, let us return the favor.”© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

I look over at Luther, who’s talking to a water witch with big brown eyes and a skinny ass. He catches my eyes, nods, and stalks over. The water witch looks pissed.

“Ready to go, Prof.?” Luther plants a hand in the middle of Mack’s shoulders.

Ignoring the question, Mack downs his H²O as if it’s poison, then grabs his jacket. Leather, of course. He’s at the door when he turns and throws Luther the keys to his Harley. “I’ll walk. See you at sunrise.”

“I can drive us.” Luther pockets the keys, following Mack outside.

“I’ll walk.” Mack stalks off in the direction of the woods.

Luther waits a beat, then follows him. Mack might not like it, but Luther knows better than to leave him alone tonight.

The rest of the year, Mack is the daddy of the town. The sheriff. Stoic as hell and hard as rock. But on the anniversary of his little sister’s death, the blackness that lives in the basement of his soul threatens to swallow him.

A couple of years ago, it almost succeeded.

“Okay, everyone.” I ring the bell behind the bar. “It’s nearly three a.m. and I want my bed. Bar’s closing.”

The water witch sidles over to me and leans onto the counter. “I wouldn’t mind seeing your bed.” She flutters her eyelashes at me.

“You were interested in my friend’s bed five minutes ago.” I raise an eyebrow at her, unintentionally flexing my upper arms as I stack used glasses one on top of the other.

“I wouldn’t mind sharing.” She licks her teeth.

“Not tonight. But thanks for the offer.” I take her gently but firmly by the arm and walk her over to the door. When everyone is gone, I bolt it shut.

The jukebox is still playing. I kick it and it stops. The bar falls silent.

Even now, after three years of running the place, I take a moment each night to drink it in. When I first came to Phoenix Falls, I didn’t think I’d ever find a way to live a normal life. Yet here I am.

I finish wiping down the bar, stack the chairs and stools ready for the morning, then stop and look at the clock. It’s past three. Tanner will finish his shift at the hospital soon. My cock twitches. It’s been weeks since we met at the lake.

I take my phone from the shelf beneath the bar and text him before I can change my mind.

When you finish your swim, don’t dry off. I want you wet and waiting for me.

His reply is almost instant: Yes, Sir.

I pull my long black hair back from my face, tie it loosely at the base of my neck, then grab my jacket. My mother might not be proud of much I’ve done in my life, but she’d be proud I never cut my hair. Perhaps not so proud of my beard or my ink.

Outside, I’m sliding the bolt across the top of the door, jacket across my arm, when something changes in the air. A jolt that makes me lean into the door frame and brace myself against it. My skin is crawling. Hot and cold at the same time.

I turn and look down the street toward the town square. A vamp couple is making out on a bench. Some adolescent mages are fucking around with the fountain. Turning it green, blue, and yellow.

A crack of thunder rumbles through the air, and with no warning at all, the sky opens. Rain pummels the street.

The vamps and the fountain kids run past me, heading for cover, squealing.

Behind me. Whatever is making me feel like this, it’s behind me. I turn slowly. The woods are pitch dark. Not there. I keep turning.

I step into the street. Something is moving toward me through the rain. The streetlights flicker in and out. I blink water from my eyes. My throat constricts. It’s a woman. Do I know her?

I tilt my head. Something flashes through my brain, but it’s moving too quickly, and I can’t catch hold of it.

Something is coming.

A voice that isn’t mine echoes through the street.

She’s seen me. Her eyes lock onto mine. She’s several feet away, but I can see her eyes gleaming in the darkness. One brown, one blue.

She stops.

She looks around as if she’s woken from a dream and has no idea where she is.

Then she falls to the ground.