Page 138 of Visions of Darkness

His near-white hair thrashed in the winter breeze, the man a gale force that blew through the atmosphere. Skin so pale beneath the shimmering rays of the sun.

That steely gaze cut right and left as we hurried to the burger place that was connected to the same lot as the motel. A big sign hung in the window advertising that they were open early for breakfast.

This area had a different vibe than the other places we’d stayed.

Busier, and the parking lot was nearly full, which I guessed should be expected since we were staying on the edge of the city rather than in a small uncharted town like we’d done every time before.

I kept my face downturned the best I could, trying to keep it concealed, praying no one would recognize me.

A man who was climbing into his pickup truck paused when he saw me and Pax approaching. I felt the weight of it burning into the side of my head as he just ... stared as we walked toward the door.

Pax twitched, and the exposed tattoos on his neck writhed over the scars they covered, as if he felt the force of it, too, and he tightened his hold on my hand. “Stay close to me.”

“I will.”

He swung open the glass door, and we stepped inside the restaurant. Three people were in line in front of us, and another two were loitering off to the side, waiting for their orders to be called. About half the tables were taken by customers.

It felt like every eye in the place swiveled in our direction.

Pax stepped closer to me. “I don’t like this,” he mumbled.

“It’s fine,” I returned beneath my breath. “I think we’re both on edge.”

“I’m not sure there’s any other way to be right now.”

I squeezed his hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

It wasn’t, but I couldn’t help reassuring him.

We got in line. The couple in front of us inched forward, trying to keep as much distance between us and themselves as they could. Unease rippled through their bodies as they cast a glance back.

I could taste their fear as they looked at Pax, at the dangerous, violent beauty that he radiated.

Or maybe what they feared was the chaos that whipped from my being.

When it was our turn to order, we shuffled forward. A young girl worked the register. Sixteen or seventeen. Her smile was kind.

I blinked, and when I opened my eyes, I swore that I was looking at my sister.

Smiling.

Laughing.

Our father’s hand fisted in her hair and yanked hard. Pain and fear bottled her whimper. “Daddy, no.”

A shocked gasp raked up my throat, and when I blinked again, the same young girl I didn’t know stood behind the counter. “Welcome to Jay’s Burgers. What can I get you today?”

My head spun and my knees felt weak.

I was seeing things. The worry was pushing me into paranoia. That was it. That was what it had to be.

“I’ll have a number three with an orange juice,” Pax told her, though he peeked over at me in concern when he felt the disturbance that echoed from my spirit.

“Small, medium, or large?” she asked.

“Large, thank you.”

She turned her attention to me. Warm brown eyes blinked back, and her face was my sister’s again.

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