Bloodstone (Talisman) Read online

  Copyright © 2012

  Table of Contents

  Kindle Edition — License / Notes

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 — Can’t Hardly Wait ?

  Chapter 2 — There’s One in Every Crowd

  Chapter 3 — A Grave Situation

  Chapter 4 — Opportunity Knocks

  Chapter 5 — All-Around Shutout

  Chapter 6 — It’s the Thought that Counts

  Chapter 7 — Thin Ice

  Chapter 8 — Auld Lang Syne

  Chapter 9 — Fool Me Once . . .

  Chapter 10 — Shot Through the Heart

  Chapter 11 — Lose Something?

  Chapter 12 — N.O. — It Ain’t So “Easy”

  Chapter 13 — That Voodoo You Do

  Chapter 14 — Shaken and Stirred

  Chapter 15 — Bound Hand and Foot

  Chapter 16 — Seasick

  Chapter 17 — Out of the Pot, Into the Fire

  Chapter 18 — Three Visions to the Wind

  Chapter 19 — Mistaken Identity

  Chapter 20 — Never Leave a “B” Behind

  Chapter 21 — Did You Miss Me?

  Chapter 22 — Only What the Mind Can See

  Chapter 23 — The Truth Hurts

  Chapter 24 — Maiden in Distress

  Chapter 25 — My Enemy of My Enemy

  Chapter 26 — Twist of Fate

  Chapter 27 — There’s No Place Like Home?

  Chapter 28 — Second Chances

  Chapter 29 — Hellhole Cave

  Chapter 30 — Shattered

  Chapter 31 — Come What May . . .

  Chapter 32 — Some Girls Want to Have Too Much Fun

  Thank You

  License — Notes

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon and purchase your own copy from their Kindle store. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Dedication

  To Tia, my bosom friend…

  You will always & forever be my “Katie”

  And a special holler out to my

  “fan club” in Wilkinson County, GA…

  To Shirley, Timpy, Tammy, and Jewleeana

  Your kind-hearted words and prayers

  encouraged me every single day…

  And finally, to Rachael,

  Regardless of your constant declarations,

  your mother is NOT “Charlotte”

  “I believe that there is a subtle magnetism in nature, which if we unconsciously yield to it, will direct us aright.”

  — Henry David Thoreau

  Chapter 1 — Can’t Hardly Wait ?

  “Forty-five minutes,” I grumbled while my fiery stare scorched the bold, black numbers encircling the clock above the grill. Just forty-five more minutes. With my order in hand, I inhaled an exaggerated stream of calming air and then pushed my way, rear first, through the swinging door that led into the interior dining room of the Sterling Drive-In.

  I strode over to table seven at a brisk, yet heedful pace. As I matched the various slices of warm, lattice-topped apple pie and dishes of sinfully-rich Brownie a lá Mode to their mouth-watering recipients, I kept one eye on my task at hand and the other on the remaining patrons still seated around me.

  A quarter to ten and only one more table has cleared out, I noted — regrettably. To make matters worse, four year-old Jeffery Hayes, practically knocked me down when he charged by and plopped himself down into a back booth I’d just cleared and cleaned three minutes ago. I turned towards the door to spot his father, Coach Earl Hayes, strolling in with his wife, Jillian, for a late evening bite. Well to be fair, it would be more like a ravenous feeding. Bears put less away for winter than what Coach Hayes and Jeffery managed to scarf down at one sitting. I hadn’t seen my high school gym teacher since that night at the football field over a month ago. The last thing I was forced to serve him was one fierce butt kicking, but not intentionally, no thanks to my relentless combatant that evening, the Onyx — the Talisman who had stalked me relentlessly and still lurked somewhere out there, haunting me with thoughts of our next inevitable encounter — all on account of my birthright that had been fated by the stars.

  I am a Talisman, too, though a new one, but a member of this elite ancient circle nonetheless. A supernatural being who could unlock a gemstone’s magic to reveal all of its unearthly, mind-blowing abilities. But I’m not just any Talisman, and the stone bestowed upon me was not just any stone. It was a diamond — The Wand of Adamas, as it’s been called throughout time. A mystical, powerful diamond cast in the form of a long, rod-like wand that rests safely within the haven of its hilt and rivals no other stone. I was the target of the Onyx’s aim simply because I now laid claim to the mystical wand and possessed all of its awesome powers — bonded to me until death — both of which he desired.

  A ripple of relief swept through my chest when I noticed that Coach Hayes’s injuries were nearly all healed. By the looks of the vandalized field and his badly beaten body, the police had assumed that a rogue gang was responsible for the violent criminal acts. After all, they didn’t have much to go on. A roughed up coach who could barely remember his own name and the only other witness had been trapped in the team’s locker room throughout the entire incident. My thoughts shifted momentarily, remembering how worried I was about Ty busting open the door to find me hurling lightning bolts at the “possessed” coach. It turned out that his memory wasn’t a factor either, in the end that is. I’d wiped that slate clean myself unknowingly…and painfully, might I add.

  Before any more woeful missed chances and memories could get the better of me (again), I shifted my full attention back to Coach Hayes as he breezed past. He sure was lucky I had that little blue chalcedony. The stone’s magic bound the Onyx’s powers and forced my attacker to break the spell he had cast on the unsuspecting coach, releasing his soul and relinquishing it back to the mortal, so I didn’t have to do the unthinkable to an innocent man — even though he’s always been a royal jerk to me.

  Maybe I was really the “lucky one”?

  While my gaze remained in sync with his every move, an optimistic thought surfaced. Who knows? He could’ve had one of those life-altering experiences that changes a person for the better? He didn’t snap at me when he walked by…and his eyes didn’t blaze the slightest bit…

  “Hey, Wallace!” Coach Hayes yelled. “Shake a leg and bring us some menus and a round of Cokes, ASAP!” I cringed (like always) whenever that jackass barked out my last name in his own endearing way. Then like clockwork, Jeffery started sprinkling salt in the air while his parents marveled at their heathen son’s creative antics, starry-eyed and without a care.

  “Look! I made it snow! I made it snow!” Jeffery exclaimed with devious delight. A heavy dusting of white granules landed all over the top of their table, not to mention on the neighboring patrons behind them and all over my freshly swept floor.

  Ugh! A mental image flashed in my mind of me stomping my foot repeatedly on the floor (and quite possibly, getting the little freckled brat’s head in the crossfire).

&nbs
p; “And this table is a mess! Bring a rag when you come,” the surly coach fired out, shaking his head at me and not even so much as a disapproving nod to his son — as usual.

  So much for wishful thinking, I noted with a pessimistic glare. Attempting to get back to my job at hand (and muzzle any further bad thoughts about our latest arrivals), I scanned around the inside dining room and sighed.

  The Sterling Drive-In had been pretty slammed for a Sunday night, even considering that it was the only spot in our small-town where you could grab a bite after 9 o’clock. Our dinner-rush, which usually consisted of our evening church service “regulars”, had already cleared out. But tonight, scattered throughout the limited number of booths and tables, as well as parked in the outside bays, we’d been graced with an unexpected, additional “blessing” of patrons — all of whom had decided to make our short-staffed eatery their “final stop” on the last leg of their Christmas shopping excursions to the Mercer Mall in Bluefield. There were only three of us working tonight, and each of us found ourselves as busy as a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest. Charlie Fisher, the owner and tonight’s cook, was manning the kitchen with the precision and swift skill of ten chefs, while his fiancé, Naomi Perkins, hopped from car to car outside like someone had lit the tail ends of her apron strings on fire. I was left juggling the impatient demands of the huddled masses preferring a more intimate “sit-down dining experience” (at least one without a steering wheel in their face). We’d barely gotten a chance to catch our breaths, let alone to take any bathroom breaks. Each and every one of our patrons were just as exhausted as we were, rightfully hungry, and most likely, regretful about spending so much of their hard-earned money on their purchases from earlier in the day that decent tips — if any — would be few and far between. Any other time, I would be a little bitter about the situation, considering how busy we had been. But not tonight… Definitely not tonight.

  Something else was on my mind — the same thing that had plagued it persistently for the past 29 days. My one and only worrisome thought that stayed as true and constant as the sun would rise and then set, churning nervously and fueling the anxiety that burned from the depths of my soul. I hurried over to a now vacant booth by the front windows. Once its top had been cleared and wiped off thoroughly (and noting that as I’d predicted, “no tip”), I lifted my tray of dirty dishes and paused for a moment to stare out the windows that lined the front of the Sterling Drive-In. Breathlessly, I peered up at the night sky to find myself both anxious and enamored by its forecasted presence. There it was — shining brightly and glowing with an aura of hope — the full moon.

  Katie’s moon, I thought confidently as my pulse quickened. The first “physical” step that would illuminate her path back home, magically reuniting her soul with her carnal existence. Though my grueling, eight-hour shift was about to come to an end, its emergence was like a neon-yellow Post-It note in the sky, letting me know that my “duties” for the evening were far from finished.

  While my eyes lay locked wishfully on the spherical beauty as it hovered in the eerie stark sky, a tap on my shoulder shot an unnerving jolt straight through my wildly beating heart and jerked me out of my trance. As soon as I’d landed, I heard the sound of Charlie’s chuckles over the clanking of dirty dishes before I even turned around.

  “Jeez, Shi. I know we’re hoppin’, but what’s got you actin’ so squirrelly this evenin’?” Charlie asked, trying to contain his laughter. After a quick check to make sure all the dinnerware on my tray was still in one-piece and a speedy scan around the room to see if anyone else needed anything, I decided to brush off his integration.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not acting ‘squirrelly’,” I insisted with a curt smile and a confident glare, just before darting through the swinging door that led into the kitchen. My evasive declaration was just as fruitless as my maneuver. Charlie was right on my heels.

  “Shiloh, who are you kiddin’?” he questioned, once we were free and clear of any customers. “You were let’s say, ‘tense’, when you clocked in this afternoon, but now you’re actin’ like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs.”

  A disbelieving grunt escaped as I slid the plates into a sink of ready-drawn dishwater. I whipped my head up defensively, only to spy a friend’s genuine concern. Bless his heart. Charlie was always ready and willing to listen to a person’s troubles, and unbeknownst to me, I’d been wearing mine on my sleeve all evening. I guessed I should have asked the golden topaz that rested on the ring finger of my left hand to make those as invisible as the magical hilt I had wedged in my back pocket. I gave the long, rope-like braid that trailed out from under his bandana and down his back a frisky tug as I breezed past him.

  “I’m fine, Charlie,” I reiterated with a pageant-plastered smile while I tightened my dark-blonde locks securely in my own ponytail.

  “Sure you are,” he replied in a dubious tone. “I’ve been watchin’ you… Starin’ at the clock. Lookin’ at your watch. Even lookin’ at the customer’s watches…all evening. And you’re jumpy, too.” Charlie folded his arms and leaned against the counter. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear by the way you’ve been actin’, the world was coming to an end tonight, and you knew the exact time…down to the second!”

  Instantly, I froze. I had so many nerve-racking thoughts whirling in my head, but not a one of them I could afford to share.

  “You know I’ll help you if I can. What’s on your mind?” Charlie coaxed in a soothing, father-like voice. My lips pursed slightly. It was the same tone I’d heard Daddy mutter for years, that is, up until five long weeks ago.

  My body swayed uncomfortably as I lowered my head and adjusted the gold chain around my neck, the one that held my recently acquired diamond pendant. I looked up and smiled at my boss, gazing into his sympathetic eyes and knowing good and well that I couldn’t say squat about the real reason behind my peculiar behavior. Before I could even come up with a convincing lie, my “earthly” conversation was being interrupted by an oh-so familiar presence.

  “Go ahead, Shi,” Katie mentally whispered, her giggles bouncing around my head for only me to hear.

  I closed my eyes for just a short moment. I’d been wondering how long it would take my mystical sidekick to throw her two-cents into my seemingly private discussion.

  “Tell him what’s on the agenda for the evening. I know a resurrection is more fitting for Halloween, it being so close to Christmas and all, but he might like to come and watch the show,” Katie taunted playfully. “Ooo! Ooo! Get him to bring one of his Mountain-Man burgers with the works. I’ve been jonesin’ for one for weeks! Some rings, too. Even though I haven’t seen my body in a while, I’m sure it’ll be just as hungry as I am.”

  “Shhhh!” I belted out loud — accidentally — instead of telepathically. Charlie was standing in front of me with his eyes as big as saucers and mouth gaped so wide I could have thrown a head of lettuce in it for a quick two points. “Sorry. That wasn’t directed at um…you,” I quickly clarified.

  My apology prompted an expression that I hadn’t seen on anyone’s face for a while. Well, not since I was forced to lecture Katie about getting “too chatty” when other people were around in the beginning of this whole botched-up, “I-accidentally-trapped-my-best-friend’s-soul-in-her-diamond-pendant” mess. I thought I had gotten a handle on the situation — finally. After I’d been caught “talking to myself” enough times by my family and classmates at school, I strived to converse with Katie on a “PLO” — Psychic Level Only — especially after enough “she’s-flippin’-crazy” looks had been shot my way! Practically everyone around town was convinced that my father’s death coupled with the unexpected loss of my best friend had sent me over the edge. After my eleventh trip to Mrs. Tuttle’s office at school for “counseling” and our small-town’s relentless rumor-mill churning distortions of my sanity, I’d been issued enough incentive to put a lid on the situation. Without a doub
t, it was definitely in my best interest to zip my lip!

  “Ooops,” Katie gasped. “Sorry, Shi. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I understand,” I responded, without a single spoken word.

  “But I am hungry,” Katie defended.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to shake off an irksome pang that had struck my heart. With most of my guilt at bay, I refocused my full attention back to my boss, who was still staring at me with a suspicious look peering out from behind his round framed, red-tinted lenses.

  Charlie scratched his head. “Look, Shi,” he began, but was quickly interrupted by Naomi, who came bustling into the kitchen.

  “What are y’all chattin’ ’bout back here,” Naomi probed intuitively as she dropped her dirty dishes in the sink and darted into the freezer. Charlie remained quiet. He started to reply when Naomi reappeared toting a tub of ice cream, but I decided to take hold of the wheel and steer this conversation in a different direction.

  “I was just raving about the great tips all our unexpected customers have been leaving,” I averted. Two things could always easily distract the sweet ’n sassy, forty-something server: hot gossip and trash-talkin’. “That’s all,” I assured her with a sly wink, praying she took the bait.

  Charlie’s mouth fell open, astonished by my bold-faced lie.

  “Humph! Great tips?” Naomi cracked. “Shooot… Those folks are so tight-fisted they can barely open their hands enough to wrap ’em around their dang burgers to eat! Season of givin’ my redneck rear!” Naomi griped as she dug the ice cream spade into the brick-hard tub of vanilla. As soon as she had carved out several scoops, Naomi slammed them, along with a splash of milk, into the stainless cup and flipped on the mixer angrily like she’d just flavored the concoction with a couple of her customers’ heads. Looking for some validation from her fiancé, Naomi whipped her gaze toward Charlie, only to realize that he’d not heard a word she’d said. He stood there with a stunned expression frozen on his face and his eyes elsewhere. Naomi followed his stare and quickly tuned in on my tense stance. Her head shook knowingly in slow motion as she placed her hand on her hip and equally distributed two lump-less, frothy shakes.