Death Defiant

Chapter 5

AMARA

I had been surprised when Caden had called, who even called anymore? It was all texting nowadays. His smooth voice sounded even better than I remembered it, my name rolling off his tongue had my body in tingles, and I had no idea why. I had been feeling much better since my run in with him and Ethan, and had only taken the ring off once and paid for it in spades. I took it off to take a shower and as soon as the cool metal left my finger and my stomach proceeded to claw its way up my throat. Shoving it back on my finger before it got worse I hoped Caden wouldn’t mind if I had gotten his ring wet, some people were weird about that. I was torn on what to do as well, he obviously wasn’t going to let me keep his ring forever, but it seemed I wouldn’t be ok without it. How do I tell this stranger that sorry, but I sort of need your ring so I don’t turn into the f*****g mess of a person I was before? Yeah, somehow I didn’t think he was going to let me keep it, and that s**t was spooky. I didn’t even want to consider what it meant that being around him, no, touching him had taken away years of illness; and that his ring did the same. This was definitely some paranormal play at work here, and if I had never believed in all things weird that go bump in the night I certainly was beginning to. I studied the blood red stone set in the center, it wasn’t raised but rather flush against the metal and smooth so that it seemed to be one with the ring. It was beautiful yet something about it felt like the sharp slice of a sword. As if its beauty was lethal. I thought of its owner, Cadens face, he exuded the same thing. His high cheekbones, sharp yet gentle jawline, the half smile that seemed permanently on his face, his big, expressive eyes. Yet, there was an air about him that left me in no doubt as easy going and beautiful as he was, something dark and deadly lurked just underneath the surface.

I slicked on some neutral lip gloss and studied myself in the mirror. My black hair was less stringy, and in a matter of days had become thicker, shinier and even had more volume. My skin, while still pale, had a slightly rosy undertone and looked supple, not dry as a bone. My body had filled out slightly, the ability to eat and not throw up constantly something I was taking advantage of; as well as my newfound sleep. The nightmares had been kept at bay and as a result I was actually sleeping soundly each night, my body feeling stronger every morning. This wasn’t a date, but I was just meeting up with him and Ethan to return the ring, and I hadn’t been expecting Ethan to come either. I was just returning something of Caden’s and grabbing a drink with them, so why was I nervous? Yes they both were stunning, their looks unparalleled, but there was a draw to them; something I felt on a cellular level. I wanted to impress them, to be around them, to have them adore me; all of these feelings were wildly foreign to me. I had been sick for so long I hadn’t even remembered what it was like to have any sort of desire toward anyone. I hadn’t exactly been little miss popular before either, I preferred books to people, escaping into worlds for hours leaving this one behind. I was a bit quirky, sarcastic, blunt and had a tendency to be fascinated with things I shouldn’t be. Things that made other people shudder and turn away, an interest in the dark, dirty and depraved things of the world. Of course, my looks were decent enough to garner attention but as soon as the guy realized I was weird, and expected him to be able to carry a conversation with some intellect that was usually the end of that. I had no idea what to expect with these two though, while I hadn’t had enough of a conversation with either to tell, they certainly were by no means stupid.

I also appreciated they weren’t checking me out like so many did, with raven hair and bright green eyes, a slim figure from years of sports and a well featured face, being ogled was something I was used to. In another life, before I had gotten sick, I had modeled and been mildly successful at it. Even then, within the ranks I was the misfit. The one who didn’t care about getting dolled up, who preferred a quiet night at home instead of the parties and drugs; the one who read a book between shoots instead of lines of white powder. I fit in precisely nowhere in my life. The others were never overtly mean to me, but often I wasn’t included because they knew I would say no, or they just chattered around me as I read on breaks; they grew used to me but I was never exactly in the group; just existing on the outskirts of my own life. When I was out I got attention, often unwanted; by men who just were interested in my body. In that vulnerable state it was refreshing that both sets of eyes stayed firmly on my face, never once dropping down and doing a sweeping appraisal of my physique. Maybe that was why I was actually putting effort into this, because they seemed different; and I was truly hoping they were.

The drive was short thankfully, but I felt my nerves on edge. Flipping on the radio I changed the channel until I found something decent, my left foot tapping a nervous beat as I slowly merged into traffic. I had picked a public place, and one that got a lot of traffic while also figuring if they were hungry they could eat. Not that I was hungry, not at all. As I hit the gas, hitting 70 miles per hour, I couldn’t help but feel as if I was flying toward my destiny.