Page 7 of Twilight Echoes
“No, they're not,” Jackson’s voice boomed across the speaker. “Who are you chatting with, my love?”
“Avery. You’re not going to believe what happened,” Amanda said.
“Why did you have to go and tell him?” Avery groaned.
“Babe, put it on speaker,” Jackson said. “Hi, Avery. Blinking fairy dust, are you? What wolf brought that out?”
“Her new choreographer. But she knew him when she was little. Danced with him even,” Amanda cooed. It sounded like she was way too amused, and that annoyed Avery.
“Name?” Jackson asked.
“I doubt you’ve ever heard of him.” Avery sighed as she fiddled with her hair. “But it’s Darrell. Darrell Hughes.”
“Well, shit,” Jackson said. “He’s the new pack leader of the Red River Pack. It’s a small pack, and the numbers have been dwindling for years. They have only two factions and are one of the topics of the next National Twilight Crossing Council meeting. His father recently passed away, handing the torch to him. Only, it’s being treated as an unnatural death.”
Avery gasped. How horrible for Darrell. “What does that mean?” She remembered Darrell’s father. Actually, she had met his entire family. They were kind and gentle people. And they had always supported Darrell and his dreams. Even if that meant Darrell would defer his role as pack leader.
Or so that’s what Avery had read in an entertainment piece about Darrell a few years ago.
“I can’t get into the specifics,” Jackson said. “That wolf has a lot on his mind. I’m sure if he saw fairy dust coming from you, he’s not thinking about what that could all mean for him right now, even if he knows he’s imprinted on you.”
“You make it sound like that’s a given, and that can’t be happening.” Avery leaned forward, snagging her lip gloss, andpuckered. Her heart ached for Darrell. She couldn’t imagine losing either of her parents.
“A couple of hours ago, a new history book started. The images are fuzzy and to be fair, Cheryl can’t make them out. All that we’ve seen is a wolf with a bum paw. Whatever is going on with him, though, is getting worse, and whoever his fate is, she’s so far off in the distance, we can’t see her yet,” Jackson said. “Dayton is concerned that she’s out of reach because what happened to the wolf has the potential to change the course of our predetermined history.”
“I don’t want your future to change, but I’m not getting knocked up because of low-hanging double moons. Not at twenty-four.”
“If it’s written in the stars, it’s kind of hard to mess with,” Amanda said. “Unless some wicked witch like our aunt casts a spell. So, suck it up, Twinkle Toes. Looks like you’re next.”
“I’m not listening to this, and don’t you dare tell Mom and Dad. I’ll deal with that shit.” Avery stood and smoothed down the front of her jeans. Her entire life she’d been the sweet little ballerina. Polite and never raised her voice.
Or swore.
At least not in public.
But with her family and few close friends, she could truly be herself. That included dropping the royal act. “I have to go. Darrell wants to see me in his office. I’ll talk with you later.”
She tossed her purse over her shoulder, sucked in a deep breath, and focused on her core. Auras weren’t her superpower as a witch. No. She was a healer and studied potions and mixology in witch school, but much to her parents’ dismay, she never fully developed the talent, nor went into medicine. Her dancing took up too much time. But they supported her, and in return, she made sure she carved out an hour every day tocontinue to hone her craft. But she’d never be a master, and she was okay with that.
And so were her parents. They beamed with pride every time she floated across the stage.
Her auntie Alley, on the other hand, constantly berated her, telling her she’d pissed away her true calling.
Avery disagreed.
With her head held high, she strolled down the hallway toward Darrell’s office. For as long as she could remember, Darrell had been the golden child of the studio. The one dancer, of all the dancers, who would be a star. He was destined for greatness, and everyone knew it. Every little girl dreamed of being paired with him when he'd come into the younger classes, even if it was only for eight counts. If you had the privilege of being on his arm, you would look better for it.
But even at the ripe old age of five, Avery understood that dancing with someone like Darrell meant all your flaws would be showcased for the instructors to see. There was no hiding behind his greatness.
Either you stepped out from his shadow and became one with his moments.
Or you fell on your ass.
Avery had not wanted to dance with Darrell that day. She’d been utterly terrified that her name had been called. Not only had she been the youngest in the class, but he towered over her, and she was considered tall for her age with legs that stretched on forever. She thought for sure her dreams of making it into the ballet company would have to wait another year. It wasn’t a big deal. She was only a small child.
And the reality was, until the music had started, she had no idea how badly she’d wanted it.
She rounded the corner and tapped on the door. “You wanted to see me.”
