Grey's Bridge, chapter two, part two

Seth Fenn hurried through the crowded city streets, pushing several people out of the way. Deaf to their protests, he slipped through the crowd, black eyes glinting.

In short, he was not in a good mood.

He had been slapped. Only twice in his life had Seth Fenn been slapped. Both times it had been done by a certain Stormi Grey.

Then Stormi went off that bridge and he figured he wasn’t about to get slapped again.

Boy, was he wrong.

And he had known Stormi too. To be slapped by a total stranger just added insult to injury.

Although, somehow, he was certain he had seen that girl before.

Maybe it was the hair. It had been the wildest black hair he had ever seen. Like there was a wind blowing through it, even when the air was still.

Or maybe the eyes. They were like endless pools of dark chocolate. Chocolate so dark it looked almost black. Pretty eyes, but scary. But then, she was a pretty girl.

He hated her guts anyway. Seth inwardly chastised himself for thinking anything nice about anyone who had the nerve to slap him. Slap him. Honestly.

He knocked a little boy out of the way. The unlucky child ran to his mother, crying.

Any other time, Seth would have grinned. He hated kids. But now…

Now he was thinking about that girl. Why was he so worried about her? She had gone off the bridge, for heaven’s sake. But he was worried. He had this stupid feeling in the bottom of his gut, like the girls spirit would come to haunt him.

But that would be stupid. It wasn’t like he had knocked her off the bridge. Well, maybe he had. But still. The thought that Seth Finn, the self proclaimed toughest guy in the world, could be worried about the bogeyman, was ludicrous.

So why was he so freaked out?

His hand moved involuntary to the welt on his right cheek. And he realized something.

Right cheek. The girl was left handed.

And Seth’s world came tumbling down. He wasn’t just worried. He was totally freaked out. Left handed. The slap. And suddenly he realized that the girl looked a hell of a lot like…

No way. It was impossible.

But the feeling wouldn’t leave him.

*****

In the middle of the night, Lyra was awoken. Rudely.

She sputtered a little, then opened her eyes. She was greeted by another pair of eyes – dark brown ones staring back at her.

If you’ve ever woken up to someone staring directly at you, Lyra’s next reaction will be understood as reasonable, even if it weren’t such a good idea. She screamed. Loudly.

Voices came from her parent’s room. The eyes blinked and vanished.

Lyra sat up. The intruder was gone.