Damned if I do (the Damned Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  I chuckled as I grabbed my travel mug and kissed her cheek. “I suspect she’ll think the same thing.” I pointed at the coffee in her hands. “Only works if you drink it.”

  Tilly grunted like it was supposed to be words and shooed me out of the room.

  Pulling the front door closed behind me, I waved to my best friend who was glaring at me from the driver’s seat of her car. I shrugged unapologetically as I wandered down the front path and I saw her putting the window down.

  “So help me, Wren! If you’re not in this car in two seconds, I’m leaving without you,” she snapped.

  I smirked. “Oh, come on, Harm. We’re not even late.”

  “Says you. Now, let’s go!” She reached over and threw open the passenger door.

  I dropped into it and that’s when we saw the moving truck pull into our street.

  “No one’s sold lately, have they?” Harmony asked as I put my seatbelt on. She wrapped her hands around the steering wheel as she leant forward and squinted despite the glasses perched on her nose.

  I looked back up to the truck and tried to work out which house it was going to stop at. “Not that I know of.”

  We sat watching and I tried not to laugh.

  “I thought we were going to be late?” I hedged and Harmony frowned.

  “Shut up,” she muttered as she got the car started and we drove off without waiting to see where the truck stopped.

  Harmony drove us to school, like she did every morning, and she couldn’t stop talking about the moving truck. I got every possible scenario her mind came up with for what was in the truck, where it was stopping, why whoever had moved, and more. Most scenarios involved someone dying tragically and/or horribly – Harmony’s favourite.

  School wasn’t my favourite place in the world. But then again, how many soon to be eighteen-year-olds thought it was? I wasn’t particularly bad at school. I didn’t mind learning. I had people I considered friends. I just felt…disjointed.

  Everyone else had known exactly what degree they’d wanted to apply for. Everyone else knew what they were doing with their lives. Everyone else fit. I wasn’t unhappy, I just felt like something was out of place and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

  That day, Harmony mostly took my mind off it by still going on about the moving truck while I avoided running into people and failed to pay proper attention to where I was going or what I was doing. She shared her theories with our friends, who offered their own theories as well. There was the inevitable good-natured joke about my old neighbour moving back in and all the jokes that followed on after that.

  I really shouldn’t have been surprised that such a thing would hold their excitement and over-active imaginations all day. And Harmony was apparently still going on about it on the way home.

  “The moving truck!” Harmony yelped.

  “You still obsessed with that truck?”

  “Um, yeah. Especially when it’s pulling out of your neighbour’s place,” I heard Harmony say and looked up.

  “The Petersons didn’t move. Did they?” I asked.

  “How would I know?”

  I shrugged as I looked back at my phone. “Maybe they got a new couch?”

  “That took all day to take inside?” She lost her scepticism as she added, “Moving people are very well known for their laziness.”

  I looked at her askance, my eyebrows narrowed. “Eight hours lazy, though?”

  Harmony slowed to a stop as the truck finished pulling out of the Petersons’ driveway in front of us. The truck then drove away, but Harmony did not get moving again.

  “Have you forgotten which one’s the accelerator?” I asked her.

  “My grasp of the mechanics of operating this vehicle far outweighs your own. Much like my grasp of the important things in life. Case in point, the very fine specimen of man standing in your next-door driveway.”

  My eyes snapped up. Never let it be said that I missed an opportunity for a perve.

  And it was anything but a missed opportunity.

  The guy was crazy hot. Movie star hot. The kind of hot you didn’t need to wait for him to smile, or look at the camera in total outrageous disbelief, or to get his top off. Guy was the sort of hot you knew he was going to turn out to be a bad guy at the end when your protagonist walks off happily into the sunset with the guy you only noticed was hot halfway through the story.

  He was tall and obviously built under a tight white t-shirt and jeans. His super dark hair was short at the sides and swept to the side at the front. And he was looking right at us.

  “Holy hot potatoes, cannelloni beans!” Harmony breathed.

  It would be a total stretch to say there was anything normal about Harmony, and I wouldn’t have her any other way. Besides, I was hardly in a position to judge normal.

  I nodded. “You’re not wrong.”

  “I call dibs.”

  “You can have him. But I gotta question how interested he’ll be if we keep sitting in the middle of my street staring at him like we’ve never touched, let alone seen, a member of the male species.”

  “Wren, guys like that were not only designed to be ogled, they demand to be ogled.”

  I conceded. “All experience points to yes.”

  “So, let me ogle.”

  “Can you ogle once parked at the very least?” I laughed.

  She huffed. “I suppose.”

  Harmony pulled up to the curb across from my house and we turned to see the guy next door was still staring at us. Only now, his expression was of amused interest. Which, you know, made him ten times hotter in a fantasy-only kind of way. Ain’t nobody got time for that kind of ego.

  “See,” Harmony pointed at him. “He is eating up the being ogled.”

  “I do see. Super attractive.”

  “I know. He is.”

  “Sarcasm, Harm. Heard of it?”

  “Guys like that don’t need a personality,” Harmony argued.

  I snorted as I grabbed my bag. “No. You’re right. Who wants a personality getting in the way?”

  “Wren, a boy like that? He can be a wet towel for all I care.”

  “You’re nasty,” I chuckled as I opened the door and got out.

  Harmony leant over to look up at me and batted her eyes at me adorably. “Oh, bless. I so love how you pretend you’re not.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Yeah,” she scoffed sarcastically. “If you were on time.”

  I looked up coyly. “Buy me a clock for my birthday.”

  Harmony barked a laugh. “I’ll get one of those ones with programmable tones.”

  “And have you yelling at me every morning?” I kissed my fingers. “Perfection.”

  “Bye!” she yelled as I closed the door.

  I gave her one more wave, jogged across the street, then headed to the front door. As I went, I couldn’t help but look over at the guy next door. Was it just me, or was it kind of weird that he was just standing there watching us? Was it creepy weird or like beginning of a grand romance weird? It certainly made me interested to know if he was a serial killer or just intensely sexy.

  Him moving made me look at him properly and I saw he was walking to the fence. Like right towards me.

  “Hey, neighbour,” he said and his voice was deep and tantalising.

  Many, many witty-verging-on-sexy comebacks shot through my head, but every single one of them tripped flat on their faces before they got to my mouth. So, all I could do was give him a terse smile and a nod as I pulled my bag further up my shoulder and hurried inside with my head down.

  I heard Harmony toot the horn and I knew she was laughing at me. So, I shot her a grumpy glance as I shut the door.

  Drake

  I’d done the whole human thing – moving truck, friends to help me shift my crap inside, plenty of yelling and almost dropping things, and lots of the obligatory breakages. Grant
ed, the whole thing was an elaborate illusion while the boys and I sat inside catching up on everything I needed to know to pass as a human. But it was the thought that counted.

  After our Contemporary Life consultant left, I dropped back into one of the arm chairs and ran my hand over my jaw with a heavy sigh.

  “Indeed, sir,” Truman said. “The world is much changed.”

  I shrugged as I leant forward on my knees. “If I’m honest, I expected worse. But I guess twelve years isn’t that much in the grand scheme.”

  “Certainly less than a fiery eternity,” Truman commented and I nodded.

  “You’re not wrong.”

  “Might I ask, sir, how you plan to get her back home?”

  “Ask all you like. I have no idea, yet.”

  I heard Kyle squeaking in excitement and looked over to see him hanging onto the windowsill and staring out the front.

  “What’s that?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, his big ears flapping.

  I flicked a hand at Truman as I sat back again. Truman hurried over to Kyle and I looked around to see where Ignacio had wandered off to. But I couldn’t see the little grouch.

  “What is it?” Kyle asked Truman.

  Truman looked at me before he answered. “That is a cat, Kyle.”

  “Cat.” Kyle tried the word on for size.

  “Have you thought about how you’ll broach the subject with her, sir?” Truman asked me.

  “Not in the slightest. But when have I ever struck out?”

  “No. Of course, sir.”

  “Can Kyle eat it?” Kyle asked.

  I smirked at Kyle’s utter naivety and obsession with animals. “No, you can’t eat it. If you do have an idea for getting her home again, though, I’m open to all suggestions.”

  “What do with it then?” Kyle asked, still staring out at the window.

  “Pets. Gifts,” I answered sub-consciously as I saw Ignacio wandering in. “And where have you been?”

  Ignacio pointed to the front door. “She’s coming.”

  I rubbed my hands together excitedly as I stood up. “All right, boys. Game on.”

  “A hand, sir?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You boys stay inside for now.”

  Calling the illusion together, I walked out the front door with the ‘movers’ and saw them off just at the right time that the truck would get in the girls’ way. I set it up perfectly. A millennium with my father and at least I could say I was adept at showmanship if nothing else.

  I watched the little hatchback slow to a stop in front of the truck in perfect place for the girls to be right in front of me. And both of them were looking right at me. The girl in the passenger seat, she was the one I was here for. But I couldn’t quite see her past the girl in the driver seat.

  But I saw enough to know they were both interested. Maybe my chances of an orgy weren’t quite so slim after all.

  I watched as her friend pulled up to the curb and they both looked back at me.

  And I enjoyed it. Why wouldn’t I? Two girls appreciating my fine form? I never got sick of it. Although, I wasn’t convinced this particular time was going to end in significantly less clothes than were currently involved.

  As she got out of the car, I half wished this whole thing wasn’t going to be so easy. I almost planned on making the time to romance her the old-fashioned way. But it was unnecessary. She fulfilled my father’s ludicrous request for a wife. One meet and greet with Pops and I was back to my old, never-ending, monotonous life. And she could go back to her easy, simple human existence.

  Still, it was almost a shame.

  She was in a hideous school uniform with her brown hair in a simple ponytail, but I could see she had the makings of gorgeous under all that. It was in the way she smiled at her friend, the way her eyes shone as she laughed, and the mischief in her crooked smile. My neighbour had definitely grown up in twelve years. And, if I wasn’t already damned, I would have been if I said those twelve years didn’t look good on her.

  As she walked across the street, I pictured it all again.

  The day had been lit with sunbeams, flowers spread across the field and danced in the sweet breeze, the stream had burbled happily beside me, and there she’d been with that smile. Her in that little white dress with a ribbon around her middle, a wreath of flowers in her mess of dark blonde curls, and a single wilting daisy in her hand as she ran through the flowers over to me. At eight, I’d thought it had been the stupidest thing in the world. But as stupid as I’d thought it, I could never say no to that smile.

  All I needed now was for her to remember it.

  “Hey, neighbour.”

  It was something I’d said to her hundreds of times. And every time, I’d been met with a wide smile, warm eyes, an open laugh, and an innocent excitement for a new adventure. This time, I got the cold shoulder. No. It was worse than the cold shoulder. All humour at her friend was gone and in its place was indifferent politeness as she hurried inside.

  What the Heaven had happened to the bubbly little girl I’d left behind?

  I looked to the friend in the car who grinned at me knowingly. Except I wasn’t quite sure what she knew. I could make a few educated guesses – she was laughing over the fact I’d swung and missed, she was laughing over the fact my wife had rushed inside, she was laughing over the fact that… Yeah, I was out of ideas. For whatever reason she was laughing, she tooted the horn before she drove away.

  “Well, that could have been worse, sir,” Truman commented and I looked down at him.

  “How?”

  Truman rocked back on his hooves. “Well, she could have rejected you.”

  “What do you call that?” I asked him.

  Truman frowned. “Sir, I know you’re unaccustomed to not…scoring. But allow me to assure you that that display was not rejection.”

  “Really? And what was it?”

  “That, sir, was nothing more than nervousness.”

  “Truman?” I asked as he started trotting back inside.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Have you dated?”

  “When would I have the time for dating, sir?” It was said in the sort of way we both knew he wasn’t saying no, but he wasn’t about to admit anything either.

  I hurried after him. “Oh, I don’t know. There was a time before me.”

  “Was there, sir?” I doubted I was imagining the wistful insolence buried in his voice.

  “Where is she?” Kyle asked, bouncing up and down, and trying to look around me.

  I dropped to one knee in front of him. “She’s not coming today.”

  Kyle stopped and looked at me. His ears drooped and his bottom lip stuck out. “Why not?”

  “His highness…struck out,” Truman explained.

  Kyle’s eyes went wide and his claws went over his mouth.

  I shook my head at him as I got up. “She was shy, that’s all.”

  “What’s your next move, boss?” Ignacio growled.

  I shrugged. “I dunno.”

  “Might I suggest you try again, sir?”

  I nodded to Truman. “Good plan.”

  “Indeed, sir,” I heard Truman sigh. “In the meantime, I’ll find something for dinner, shall I?”

  “Cat?” Kyle asked happily and he skipped after Truman.

  “Try again,” I mused to myself as I took the stairs two at a time and walked into my old room.

  From memory, it looked directly at the window to her bedroom.

  I saw blue curtains fluttering in the breeze, but no sign of her as I tried to work out how best to try again.

  And I spent the bloody whole week on it.

  While she was at school, I did some research on what girls liked these days. The amount of drivel I ingested in the guise of books, movies and TV shows was enough to make a man sick. But I persevered, and found a few new things to add to my list of torture material.

  On Tue
sday, I was outside in the driveway working on my motorcycle in tight jeans and a tank top. I was smeared with grease and glistened with beading sweat in the unseasonable late-September heat. It was a classic move – by all accounts – and should have worked wonders. It should have been a homerun. But then her sister came home before her and I found myself politely trying to avoid her flirtation when the car pulled up outside their house.

  Wednesday, I pulled out the big guns. By the time the girls were driving past, I was in the process of saving a kitten – Kyle in disguise – from the front tree. I was shirtless, of course. My unseemly muscles rippled with the slightest movement of my taut body. I climbed back down the ladder, cradling a very dedicated Kyle against my chest, and turned to see her standing in her front driveway practically drooling. But when I smiled, I still only received a terse smile in response before she disappeared inside.

  I wasn’t leaving anything to chance on Thursday. I kept an eye on their house the whole day. When her friend’s car stopped at the curb, no one else was home. It was just her. The sister hadn’t come home from uni yet. The parents were still at work. So, once she was inside, I got myself sorted, somehow convinced Kyle to stay inside, and went next door.

  I smoothed my hair and pressed the doorbell.

  “Just a second!” I heard her call, and the sounds of footsteps on the stairs.

  She was smiling when she pulled the door open, but it fell when she saw it was me.

  “Hi,” she said slowly, looking around behind me.

  “Hey, neighbour.”

  Still nothing. No recognition. All I got was a questioning expectation.

  “Uh…” I started, then held up the plate of Apple Slice. “I just thought I’d be neighbourly and say hello.”

  She looked at the plate and then back at me. “Thanks.”

  I held the plate out to her and she took it. “I’m–”

  Her phone rang and she looked at me sort of apologetically. “Sorry.” As she pulled her phone out of her pocket with one hand and started closing the door with her foot, she held up the plate and said, “Thanks for these.”

  Then the door was closed in my face and I’d failed spectacularly.

  I didn’t know what was happening. Collection was in my genes. We go to Earth, we get the mortal, we bring them home. It’s not like it was rocket science – we’d been doing it for hundreds of thousands of Earth’s years. But somehow, I couldn’t manage to get this one human to do my bidding.