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Chapter 11 (Clare)
Chapter 11 (Clare)
Finding a mall and parking, her mother brought it up, “So,what happened last night on your charade, you seem different, lost in thought.” Clare’s face turned white, and she gulped. She needed to remain cool, and go with partial truth, she knew the drill. Her mother could sniff her lie out before she even said it, “Actually, ahm, uh…”
“Spit it out, Clare.” She hated it when her mother used her name whenever she addressed her, “I met this guy, Okay, he seemed really sweet, walked me home. I think he’s American or something didn’t quite catch his name.” Not wanting to get into too many details Clare quickly added not giving her mother a chance to speak, “Don’t stress I probably wouldn’t see him again.” She shrugged, “He’s not my type anyway.”
Hastening her steps, she let her mother know the conversation was mute. She paused in front of the mall's sliding door. Looking up she caught the name, muttering it, “GATEWAY.” From the outside, it was a three or four-story building, not much to look at. Painted in mustard color with a bit of blue which she presumed was supposed to resemble a wave.
A loud yawn escaped her knowing the hours ahead was going to be no picnic in the park, seeing as Clare hated shopping of any kind. But when she spotted her mother sidling up to her, the dead look in Michelle's eyes and lack of interest, Clare felt a new surge of energy kick in. The woman could be difficult, but she was still her mother, and right now that said mother was hanging on by a thread. Plastering a smile so wide her face might crack Clare rubbed her hands together, “Come on mother dearest let's go shopping.”
Unexpectedly she pinched Clare’s butt, as she brushed past her, muttering “Smartass.” Talking louder than usual Clare chastised her, “Woman, we in public, behave.”
They were parading the second floor when they came across a jewelry shop, when the gem caught Clare's eye, “Mom,” she gestured with her head that they should go inside, “I wanna see that chain.” By
the time her mother followed her inside, Clare had already shown the man in the shop the platinum chain, with a heart-shaped locket embedded with blue sapphires. She might not like shopping, but it didn't mean she didn't know-how.
Michelle looked at it, “It’s stunning, put it on.”
“What's the verdict?”
“An early birthday present, what do you say?” Clare pretended to think about it before she beamed and nodded. Having come from old money her mother never worried about cost and being a general surgeon was an added benefit. But Michelle never spoilt Clare. So she was stunned when her mother agreed to buy her a pricey gift, even if it was an early birthday present.
Fingers on the clasp of the chain, she was seconds away from taking it off when a hand brushed her fingers away. Goosebumps rose on her neck, she sucked in air and froze. Attached to a masculine scent the heat of breath startling, as the man whispered in her ear, “Let me help you with that dear.” The voice was so sharp and cunning it could cut you like a razor.
Clare turned quickly to face him. He was dressed in a black tailored suit, and a grey shirt loosened at his collarbone. Long brown hair neatly combed back, slightly taller than Clare with a trim waist and broad shoulders, this man looked sleek for someone in his thirties. When Clare opened her mouth, to say just that, her mother grabbed her arm a bit too harshly, but the look on her mothers face made her shut up, “Take my card, go pay, let me talk to this man very quickly,”
Franchesca:
“She would’ve made a remarkable warrior. Such a pity she can’t remember, if it was up to me, I would return her memory now, at a small fee.”
Franchesca clenched her hands in a fist, “Leave her alone, she’s no threat to you,”
The man smiled cunningly as he spoke, “Well. I don’t know about that, soon she’ll become a full descendant, who knows what she might do in the future. What is that saying that deceptors use? Ah, yes, prevention is better than cure.”
Franchesca glowered, “The place is crowded with people there’s not much you can do here Tempter.”
“I didn’t come for a fight, Franchesca.” He dropped the act, and sighed, “I came to warn you, a heads up, think of it as a kindness to the girl. I always did have a softness for little Clare, isn’t that what you call her these days?. I had my Seekers on her since she became a ‘mortal’.” He made a gesture with his hand.
“Even if she ascends into one of them, she's harmless, please Azazel leave her be,”
“I am a prince, don’t test my patience. You have been warned. Consider this my only act of kindness Draiken, for when I bring hell, I bring it unaltered”
Azazel left, walking out of the store humming. When he was out of sight only then did Franchesca turn around to look for Clare, who was standing by the counter. Franchesca didn't like the situation she was forced in, nor did she like the wall she had put up between Clare and herself over the years. But love and affection were not going to keep Clare alive. Franchesca prayed when the time came, Clare was strong enough to survive.
Clare smiled and Franchesca flushed with the guilt she wore like a second skin before she steeled herself. Clare wasn't going to be smiling for long when she found out the truth. She was going to have to delay the inevitable because until she had back up, the best place for Clare right now was the mall.
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