Chapter 1

Chapter 1 for Fate Walks, paranormal romance

CHAPTER 1

 

 

 

Being alone was like mother’s milk to some, those that sucked at the teat of solitude and lapped up every last drop. Nothing soothed the soul faster or more efficiently than cutting oneself off from others.

      There was something comforting in the silence, in the time for blissful introspection. Astix Cavaldi believed the correct term for it was introvert. A shy, reticent person who preferred their own company to that of everyone else.

      She surely fit the bill.

      So she walked in solitude down the busy Chicago streets while life thrived around her. She felt detached from it. Disenchanted. A chill ran up her spine as though a thousand eyes hammered against her skin, though when she turned to search the shadows she saw nothing. Alarm played a concerto on her spine but she kept her pace steady.

      Lights from street lamps and cars reflected off the double-pane glasses of skyscrapers competing for altitude, each one reaching for more height.  The scent of rain hung low in the air as more of a promise than a threat. It competed with the burgeoning autumn for a front row spot in the attention of the masses.

      Chicago was lovely that time of year, she thought as she ambled along. The windy city lived up to its name that night, all filled with hustle and bustle. Winter was hastened forward by strong winds off the lake waters adding a damp chill to the air.

      The rest of the world went about their business thinking only of themselves and so she did the same. Everyone fell into the box yet she stood outside watching. And waiting.

      The beauty of the fall color show she studied and stored away for later. The busy streets she traversed with only a casual thought for the oddness of it. Usually they did not see so many tourists this time of year. Chicago boasted its best months in the spring and summer. Lake activities and all.

The rain did not inconvenience her. It began to fall in slick sideways sheets to pound the unexpected and drench the sidewalk in an attempt to clear the masses. The thick heels of her boots cut through the water as she traveled onward, head down and jacket hunched up to protect her neck.

      No one bothered her. No one who saw her or paid her any mind. She strode alone through the night knowing the complete control she held on it. On herself.

      The grey skies were her canvas and the raging storms her masterpiece. Avoiding a large brightly lit intersection, she cut across a green thoroughfare, feet sinking into the overly moist ground. Long limbed trees blocked the worst of the weather there and she moved briskly with each stride radiating purpose.

      That was the picture she presented to the outside.

      No one knew the pain she kept in check; she made sure of that. The fierce wars she waged with anxiety and a warped sense of persecution were under strict lock and key. She insured that those things stayed inside, inaccessible behind a high wall of stone that stretched to the heavens.

      The toe of her boot came across something hard and unyielding, causing her to stumble. A glinting stone of deep purple lay nestled amidst the pliable blades of grass and she bent at the knee to retrieve it. The mineral gave way easily beneath her palm with mud and dirt yielding to give her the prize.

      “Well s**t, look at you,” she told the stone almost affectionately. A violet light began to glow from the heart of the amethyst in response to her words. She tucked the gem into the pocket of her black bomber jacket and continued on her way.

      “You want to come home with me, don’t you? I guess I can oblige.”

      She paused only to pile her saturated mass of auburn locks atop her head. Cat-like eyes in an odd mixture of blue, green and yellow slashed across the empty expanse of the park in a way that meant business. She was not alone here, not even given the hour. Several street youths took shelter amid the concrete picnic tables, out looking for trouble and uncaring whether they stayed dry or not.

      Perfect.

     Most of them were underage and on the streets without their parent’s knowledge or consent. Probably still in high school with a rebellious streak a mile wide. It may have been her, once upon a time.

      They sat together like a wet flock of crows with hoods and jackets obscuring their features and keeping the worst of the chill away. Those kinds of kids would do whatever it took to stand out from the crowd even if it meant pushing the limits farther than they would like.

      She altered her course toward them as though willing fate to send her an altercation. It did not faze her that there were other pressing matters contending for attention. Or that she had places to be and people expecting her.

      Fate was hers to control. And she was determined to test it that night.

     The air stream carried away any mutterings just as the sound of currying leaves obscured chatter and raucous laughter.  She surveyed them all and continued to walk, daring them to say something. Anything. Break them out of their self-absorption.

      Talk ceased as she walked by and heads turned to follow her. She heard a throat clearing and the half uttered greeting ready to meet her ears. She looked directly at them and saw a pair of brown eyes. As soon as they caught her looking they broke contact, each one turning away at the underlying meaning in her gaze.

      Their eyes shifted to the ground and heads bowed down.  Not one made a move in her direction. There were no lewd comments on her figure, any thought of asking for drugs or money or a good time.

      They were afraid of her. How funny.

Pride warred with disappointment and she marched on. The green space behind her faded into the high walls and glass windows of the concrete jungle.

      Of course, she thought to herself. One could not hope to be part of something when the point was made to remain on the outskirts. Even the slightest human interaction on her own terms fell to nothing. Figured. It simply went to show--

      Astix Cavaldi bowed to neither man nor nature.

 

**

 

“You’re late,” the short-tempered, short-statured bar owner told her in no uncertain terms.

      A cigarette hung from limp lips as though attached by lost hopes, forgotten at the corner of his mouth. Black hair was combed neatly over a growing patch of skin at the top of his head.

      Astix shrugged out of her jacket and scarf to reveal a glittering red halter-top that showed her assets for all to see. She adjusted the material so that the sculpted muscles of her shoulders and tattooed forearms glowed in the dim light of the club. Despite the drop in temperature, her skin remained pristine, raindrops catching the radiance from two dozen glow sticks.

      There was an image to maintain, after all. A mystique and reverence.

     She carefully transferred the stone from the coat to her pants and knew she could use the strength during the show.

      Amethyst, she mused. Clear-headedness, meditative, calming. It worked across all planes of being-the emotional, physical, and spiritual- to provide balance, patience. Peace.

      Funny how it managed to find her that night. Her nerves always rose before she went onstage, hearkening back to her childhood in a way she’d never quite been able to conquer.

      “Do you make it a point to always arrive a thirty to sixty minutes after you’re supposed to? Or do you do it to annoy me? People are going nuts!”

      “They’ll wait.”

      Astix trained her eyes on the floor, sticky from a multitude of spilled drinks and the butts of discarded roll-your-owns. When was the last time anyone took a minute to sweep the damn thing?

      Unconcerned with the pressure of time obligations, she slowly opened the suitcase waiting backstage. From its depths, she drew a skeletal pair of headphones and looped the cord around her neck. There were diamond flecks embedded in the housing directly over the ear pads. A mask completed the ensemble and furthered the air of mystery surrounding her character.

      Diamonds, yes, the ultimate sign of strength, the king of all crystals. They stood for clarity, truth, success and abundance. High frequency energy.

      “They’ve been waiting almost an hour for you! People are going to chew through the walls if they don’t hear some music, soon. They are like mad beasts!”

      Mr. Bernadino ran his hands through the thinning strands of his hair in a gesture he’d done a thousand times. Already the waves formed patterns around his fingers as though they anticipated the motion, his comb over ruined.

      “Ballistic, even!”

      “Like I said. They’ll wait.”

      Her smoky voice was matter of fact as she finished the last of the setup she would need. Already the recorder and equipment had been organized prior to her arrival.

       Astix prepared to queue her entrance when Bernadino hit her with a final statement. “I put your family on the list, all five of them. The bouncer knows to let them in if they…”

      “They’re not coming,” she said dryly.

      With a wave of her hand to the man with the microphone, Astix took a breath and prepared for her entrance. Her fingers brushed lightly against the piece of amethyst still in her pocket.

      “They never come.”

      The prerecorded message began to play over the loudspeakers. “Ladies and gentleman! Boys and Girls! Creeps and Ghouls! For one night, and one night only, we present for your viewing pleasure-the one, the only…. please put your hands together and make some NOISE! For DJ Tix!”

      The crowd erupted, filling the enclosed space of the warehouse club with enough clamor to deafen an elephant. Strobe lights made patterns on the walls and ceiling as the fog machine chugged on with an inaudible hum. Soon a low hanging mist swirled around the feet of hundreds of people old and young alike.

      Teenagers snuck from their houses and lied to their parents all for a brief glimpse of the enigmatic underground DJ. Men and women in their twenties and thirties called out of work for the next day in anticipation of a wild night ahead. The whisper of drugs and sex hung in the air like a lover’s assurance.

      With the earphones at her head and the semitransparent cloth covering her eyes, Astix strode onto the stage with her hands up.

       And prepared to get to work.

Author's Note

Please be honest. I need beta readers with all the feedback I can get about plot, pacing, dialogue, character development...everything.