Title: Darkest
genre: YA urban fantasy
Skeleton fingers claw at a purple sky.
Yeah. I think I remembered lightning. It used to scare the sh** out of me when I was little. But that was before I was blind.
Yeah. I think I remembered lightning. It used to scare the sh** out of me when I was little. But that was before I was blind.
Thunder rumbled the floor. Wind-whipped branches smacked the window. All I had was the soundtrack.
The storm had a message but I wasn't listening.
My scalp tingled above a dull headache. Jazz snuffled. If he were one of those bomb-sniffing dogs he could track down the stuff I lost. But he was only a guide dog, though I pushed that training to the max.
It's pretty hard to sneak stuff when you can't see what you're doing. But that didn't stop me from trying. Smoking was the only thing that calmed me down, these days. I slipped my hand under the mattress for my cigarette stash. Gone. The maid's way of telling me I was busted without ratting me out to Dad.
My things were scattered on the desk where I'd tossed them; phone, keys, matches. No cigarettes.
The dresser top was bare, but I thought I'd heard a rustle of movement. Probing the air, my fingers bumped against soft cylinders fanned out like spokes on a wheel and spun in a free-floating circle.
Cigarettes?
Heart racing, I felt around for suspension wires. Nothing. At my touch, one by one, the sticks plunked onto the dresser top.
Hell. I didn't want a cigarette anymore.
