Ravensong (Green Creek 2) - Page 20

The moon was just a sliver when I opened the motel door and stepped out into the night.

A dumpster sat at the edge of the parking lot.

Joe’s phone went in first. Then Carter’s. Kelly’s.

I held mine tightly.

The screen was bright in the dark.

I highlighted a name.

Mark

I typed out a text.

I’m sorry.

My thumb hovered over the Send button.

Like the earth. Like dirt and leaves and rain—

I didn’t send the message.

I threw the phone in the dumpster and didn’t look back.

spark plug electrode/little sandwiches

I WAS eleven when Marty caught us sneaking into the garage.

I didn’t know why I was so drawn to it. It wasn’t anything special. The garage was an old building covered in a layer of grime that looked as if it’d never be washed away. Three large doors led to bays with rusty mechanical lifts inside. The men who worked there were rough, dip tucked firmly in their cheeks, tattoos covering their arms and necks.

Marty himself was the worst of them. His clothes were always stained with dirt and oil, and he had scowled constantly. His hair was thin and wispy, sticking up around his ears. Pock scars marred his face, and his rattling cough sounded wet and painful.

I thought him fascinating, even from a distance. He wasn’t a wolf. He wasn’t imbued with magic. He was terribly, painfully human, gruff and volatile.

And the shop itself was like a beacon in a world that didn’t always make sense to me. Grandpap was a couple of years in the ground, and my fingers itched to touch a torque wrench and a dead blow mallet. I wanted to listen to the purr of an engine to see if I could hear what was wrong with it.

I waited until a Saturday when no one else was around. Thomas was with Abel, doing whatever Alphas and future Alphas did in the woods. My mother was getting her nails done in the next town over. My father said he had a meeting, which meant he was with the dark-haired woman I wasn’t supposed to know about. Rico was sick, Chris grounded, Tanner on a day trip to Eugene that he had bitched about for weeks.

With no one to tell me no, I went to town.

I stood for a long time across the street from the garage, just watching. My arms itched. My fingers twitched. There was magic in my skin that had no outlet. Grandpap’s tools had mysteriously disappeared after his old lady killed him, my father saying they weren’t important.

And just when I’d gathered up enough courage to cross the street, I felt a little tug at the back of my mind, a simple awareness that was getting more and more familiar.

I sighed. “I know you’re there.”

Silence.

“You might as well come out now.”

Mark stepped out from the alley next to the diner. He looked embarrassed but defiant. He wore jeans and a Ghostbusters shirt. The sequel had just come out. Rico and Tanner and Chris and I were going to go see it. I thought about inviting Mark too for reasons I couldn’t quite understand. He still got on my nerves, but he wasn’t so bad. I liked the way he smiled sometimes.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Why?”

“You’ve been standing there for a long time.”

Tags: T.J. Klune Green Creek Fantasy
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