Tysseland Chronicles - Cursed Part 5

She waited for the man to speak first. Her hands shook and the key rattled. She stuffed it in her pocket to hide her fear. The deodorant commercial tag line kept ringing in her head. Never let them see you sweat.

She didn't know how to call on her power. She didn't feel a charge of blue sparks building up. Where were the blue sparks when she needed them?

She scanned the parking lot for an escape. She didn't know what this man wanted but knew it couldn't be good. She was cornered between the building, the Dumpster, parked cars and the bicycle rack. Could she fit under a car? She'd never tried it before but considered it an alternative escape route.

"Do you know who I am?" he said in the voice of someone who had smoked hundreds of thousands of cigarettes.

Sasha shrugged not trusting her voice.

"I am Nefar," he said as if she should recognize his name. Still she didn't say anything. She had nothing to say.

"I am Mukoo," he said. She still had no idea what he was talking about.

"Your grandmother hired me just in case," he paused and smiled in a creepy self-satisfied way, "the curse doesn't work."

He reached for her pendant. It was buried under her s.h.i.+rt and couldn't be seen. But Sasha knew the man knew it was there. She shrank from his touch grinding her back into the building's wall.

Wait, curse? She had no idea what he was talking about.

"You are destined to die and cannot escape me," he said drawing his hand away slowly."Your grandmother has been waiting 17 years. She can wait a few more days."

Sasha didn't know why her grandmother, who she'd never met, would want her dead. She didn't even know her grandmother existed. She didn't ask any questions. She didn't want Nefar to know how clueless she was. Gathering up courage, Sasha responded, albeit in a squeaky voice.

"Tell me something I don't know."

Nefar laughed, it was not an entirely unpleasant sound, like a benign chuckle from someone enjoying a good joke.

"I was just trying to make it interesting. I thought maybe you'd pose more of a challenge but so far I've been very disappointed."

He grabbed the neck of her hoodie and pulled her close. She smelled cigarettes and mint on his breath. She turned her face away trying to maintain some dignity even though she was scared s.h.i.+tless and her feet barely touched the ground.

"I could kill you whenever, however I want. Make it fun for me and you'll last a little longer."

He shook her like a doll and settled her back on her feet. She staggered to her knees and covered her face with her hands. She breathed deeply and tried to control the swing of emotions coursing through her body. She was afraid she was going to collapse and that would not show strength.

The back door of the cafe banged open and Evan walked out with a garbage bag destined for the dumpster.

"Hey," he yelled at Sasha. Concern flashed on his face when he saw her crouched on the ground. He ran over and put a hand on her shoulder. Sasha heard Nefar walk away.

"Are you alright?" Evan said softly into her ear.

She felt woozy as her strength faded and she fell into his arms as dark spots appeared in front of her eyes. It was one of those cheesy romance novel moments, one she didn't want to have. It was so embarra.s.sing but she had nothing left. It was as if Nefar drained her energy when he threatened her.

She hoped Nefar hadn't seen her fall but she had no such luck. Before she had a moment to duck behind the car, Nefar unleashed a fireball at her. She grabbed Evan and threw herself on top of him as the fireball struck her on the back. The impact pushed Sasha off Evan. She rolled away sc.r.a.ping her hands on the asphalt and hitting her head on an adjoining car. She didn't feel any pain from the fireball but a dull ache formed in her forehead. She didn't know if the pyrotechnics were a real danger because she didn't feel like she'd been burned.

Evan crawled beside Sasha. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her face to him. "Are you-," he didn't finish.

Sasha scrambled to her feet as a fireball almost hit Evan in the back. It hit her in the chest and she fell backward over Evan. They tumbled to the ground. Sasha landed on her back, her sc.r.a.pped hands. .h.i.tting the pavement. Another fireball landed nearby and set a patch of slick oil on fire.

Another fireball slammed into the dumpster and bounced to the ground settling loose stray paper aflame. They scrambled out of the way. Evan kicked the burning paper sending embers into the air. A spark landed on Evan's s.h.i.+rt and the cloth smoldered and burned a hole in the material. Sasha shrugged off her jacket and used it to douse any flames. That answered her query about whether the fireb.a.l.l.s were real. They could hurt Evan but not her.

Two more fire b.a.l.l.s flew overhead and bounced off the wall and landed harmlessly in the parking lot. Sasha had no way to set up a defense as she contemplated crawling under a car to evade the attack but that would leave Evan exposed. Before she could come up with a plan the fireb.a.l.l.s stopped. She was too scared to see where Nefar went. She peered under the cars looking for feet and saw none.

Sasha crawled into a ball tucking her knees under her chin. She rocked with relief and her eyes welled up with tears as a scream rose up her throat. She cut it off before it escaped.

She couldn't figure out why the blue sparks had not saved her. She thought they came uninvited in times of peril and definitely those fireb.a.l.l.s could have killed Evan. The last two appearances of the blue sparks were unexpected and yet needed.

Evan crawled over to Sasha from behind a car. A smear of dirt marred his face and his eyes were wild with disbelief. "Is he still here?"

Tears spilled down Sasha's cheeks as she half rose and peered through a car window. She didn't see Nefar so she stood up slowly ready to duck. The parking lot was empty.

"I think he's gone," she croaked.

Evan had a burn hole in the chest of his T-s.h.i.+rt. The skin beneath was hot pink from a burn.

"We need to take care of that," she said pointing to the injury. She gently rolled up his T-s.h.i.+rt, exposing the burn. His chest was broad and smooth. It was a man's chest not a boy's. The thought made her flush with embarra.s.sment when she realized she was a.n.a.lyzing his physique. It was just rude.

"It looks nasty," she said. "We need medical supplies."

"Me? Are you alright? You got hit twice," he said spinning her around. A quick view showed no injuries. "I don't get it."

He lifted up her s.h.i.+rt in the back. "I know you got hit but I don't see any marks."

"You should get some ice," Sasha said pulling his T-s.h.i.+rt down so it covered his flat belly.

As he turned to go back into the cafe, Sasha stumbled. Suddenly overwhelmed with emotions, she bent over as if she were punched in the gut and the stress of the attack finally hit her.

Evan wrapped his arms around her holding her up so she didn't fall. Tears ran down her face as she struggled to catch her breath. It was as if something heavy was sitting on her chest, pressing the air from her lungs. Sobs ripped from her body making her buckle under the emotional weight.

She flashed back to Nefar and his threats. She wanted to put up a brave front for Evan but her body gave out as Nefar's words bounced in her head.

I could kill you whenever, however I want.

She slumped against the building wall and wiped away tears rolling down her face.

"Are you ok?" Evan asked softly.

"No," she whimpered and sobbed into her hands, mortified at her display of weakness. Wordlessly Evan hugged her closer, his arms provided a protective embrace. Her head dropped onto his chest as exhaustion wiped her out and she didn't have the energy to pretend otherwise.

His body was hot and his heat melted the chill spreading in her bones. She felt his heart beat under her cheek and tried to match her breathing with the pumping of his heart. The beat was as comforting as a soft caress. Her breathing slowed, the tears stopped and she calmed down. Even though a few minutes pa.s.sed, she didn't pull away because the embrace felt so soothing. She breathed deeply and smelled coffee and musky soap with a hint of lemon.

Evan's arms loosened and h pulled her to her feet gazing at her with concern.

"I don't want to leave you alone," he said. "Come with me while I get my keys."

They walked hand-in-hand to the coffee shop's back door. Evan pulled it open and let Sasha enter first. The door closed with a soft click.

"Wait here," he said and slipped away into the front of the store. She heard the low murmur of voices and then Evan reappeared with ice in a bag. He went into a closet-like office and returned with a knapsack and jacket slung over his shoulder.

"Let's go," he said.

In the car, Sasha held the ice bag to the burn mark on Evan's chest. They didn't talk about what happened and Sasha knew he would start asking questions soon. She didn't know what she going to tell him because she didn't even know what was happening.

Evan drove to his house, a short distance from the cafe. Sasha needed to come up with a plausible explanation for the fireb.a.l.l.s. She didn't think the truth would help.

They didn't talk on the drive. The idea of making meaningless chit-chat was an exhausting prospect for Sasha. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The silence was surprisingly comfortable.

Evan parked in front of a small, craftsman-style house. The lawn was neat and trim, while the neighbors next door had let the gra.s.s grow wild. There was no car in the driveway, which made Sasha wonder why Evan didn't park there.

They walked up the path to the front door. Evan had his keys in his hand and easily unlocked the door and pushed it open. He let her go in first even though she was the guest.

Evan drifted toward the kitchen and she followed. The furniture in the living room was worn and out-of-date. The carpet was threadbare but everything was clean and neat. There were no stray magazines or newspapers lying sloppily on tables. Everything was in its place. Someone had a compulsive orderliness disorder in this house.

Evan went into a bathroom off the kitchen and made noise pulling open drawers. Sasha didn't follow him. She took the bag that held the ice and dumped it in the sink.

The confrontation with Nefar had exhausted her. It was funny. She didn't do much and little damage was done except for Evan's burn and yet her fear sapped all her energy. Evan came back with a tube, gauze, tape and scissors.

"Can you put this on for me?" He said.

"Of course," she said arranging the chairs so they faced each other. She motioned for Evan to take a seat. Evan stripped off his s.h.i.+rt and sat on the chair waiting. Sasha examined the wound and found it was blistered and bright red. She squeezed some cream out of the tube and gently applied it to the burned area.

She unrolled some gauze and cut a square big enough to cover the injured area. She stretched out some tape and cut several strips. She gently affixed the gauze over the cream and taped it in place.

"Does it hurt?" she asked. "I think we should keep ice on it."

Evan didn't answer. He cleared up the medical supplies and returned them to the bathroom. Sasha held his T-s.h.i.+rt in her hands.

Evan got more ice out of the freezer, put it in a plastic bag and held it to his chest.

"Here's your s.h.i.+rt," Sasha said holding it outstretched, the large burn hole on the front hidden from view.

"Thanks," he said taking it from her and disappeared into the back of the house. He returned in a new s.h.i.+rt looking as tired as Sasha felt. He pulled out a chair and slumped into it.

"So," he said and then paused for a long time. "I don't want to sound nuts and I have the burn to prove it, but what the h.e.l.l happened?"

Sasha sighed. It was easier to tell him the truth than make up some elaborate lie. The truth was just as crazy as any kind of story she could manufacture.

"Was he using some kind of military weapon?" he asked. "I didn't see anything in his hands but fire, but h.e.l.l, what else could it be?"

Sasha stared at her hands and then gazed at Evan. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked confused.

"I don't know," she said. That was the truth.

"Have you seen him before?"

She told him about going to the police station.

"Did he attack you there too?"

She shook her head. "He just stared at me."

"Creepy."

Sasha nodded.

"Do you believe in magic?" she asked.

Evan was incredulous. "Are you serious?"

"Yes and no," she said wringing her hands. She wanted to bite her finger nails but didn't want to gross him out. "I don't know what magic is. But do you believe it can exist?"

"No," he said. "That's not what happened. It was some kind of special effect like what they do in the movies."

She sighed deeply. She would love to believe that too except it seemed more unlikely than believing in magic.

"I would agree with you except why did it burn you and not me?" she asked. Evan frowned and narrowed his eyes.

"Why is that?" he asked skeptically eyeing her as if she were the one who attacked him.

"I don't know," she said. Suddenly, Evan banged his hands on the table and jumped to his feet.

"There's a lot you don't know," he said angrily. "Why is it that I am robbed, shot at and attacked with fireb.a.l.l.s when I'm around you? Can you answer me that?"

Sasha covered her face with her hands and sobbed. "I know," she cried. "I didn't do anything, I swear."

Evan took a gla.s.s from a cupboard and filled it with water. He drained the gla.s.s and filled it again. When done he set it down on the counter and turned around.

"Do you want cake?"

Sasha stopped crying and peered at Evan through her fingers. Did he just ask her if she wanted cake?

Evan opened the fridge door and withdrew a plate with a chocolate cake covered in plastic wrap. He set it on the counter, found a large knife in one of the drawers and pulled the plastic wrapping. He cut two large slices of cake and served them on plates.

He put one plate in front of Sasha and sat down with his own slice.

"I'm sorry," he said gruffly. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. It's not your fault."

Sasha stared at the cake, a lump formed in her throat. She swallowed a few times and picked up her fork but didn't eat.

"Did you make it?" she asked.

"Naw, my grandmother is the cook. I just eat."

He shoved a big forkful into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

"Do you think it was some kind of birthday joke?" he asked licking chocolate frosting from his fork.

Sasha shook her head. "A friend wouldn't do that."