The Gift She Gives Ch. 01

Author's Note:

Dear readers, welcome back! I'm so looking forward to this story. It's got my imagination running wild and I hope that you enjoy this tale as much as I am loving writing it.

I need to set the tone a bit. Domino's story took over a year, and during that tale, you were given a teeny tiny snippet of information. SOMETHING was happening at Vorhees, SOMEONE was there, a woman, driving Mr. Hughes crazy, but you didn't know why, and then I really let you have it at the very end of the story with the news that there was going to be a wedding. (I'm evil, yes, I know).

So you know something is going on, and you know where, and you know who the male lead is going to be. (No, it's not Samir...patience!) We need to rewind from where we left things on New Year's Eve with Domino. Cycle back to the previous spring, right around the start of baseball (for us Yanks), late March/early April. A month after Domino moved to Wisconsin, Alexandru was still being held captive by his sire, Anya was still in her pregnancy with her second set of pups, and Shu hadn't run off yet (Shu? What?). It happened!

You also know that Mr. Hughes is pretty frustrated at this point, over Anya, over the situation with his own life on Earth, and with his worry over Domino. Not to mention that he's dealing with a group of wood elves who are trying to go legit and several employees that he has had to try to replace. It's been filled with stress for our sexy sexy angel.

But here we are...at this beginning. Enjoy!

And p.s. I humbly ask for your forgiveness for taking so dang long getting this new story submitted. The death of a friend, starting back to college to one up my current degree, family, husband travel, work, and writer's block kicked my BUTT after the holidays. But I am BACK ON TRACK! I will be submitting four chapters a week!

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Chapter 1

The diner was practically empty when Vesper Lynch sat down in a back corner booth, alone. It was one of those diners that had initially been a boxcar or a Pullman car on a train route to somewhere, and Vesper didn't miss the irony of her presence. This place was going nowhere now, it had been removed from the tracks more than 50 years ago, and she was just like it. She was going nowhere, or more appropriately, she had nowhere to go.

"What'll it be, miss?" A middle-aged waitress approached her lazily, gum smacking in her mouth and Vesper pinched her lips together as she looked up at the dark blond.

She hated being called miss, especially as old as she was, but she couldn't really be angry at the waitress for what she'd said. Vesper knew that despite the fact that she was a great deal older, she appeared to be very young, in her late teens or early twenties.

"I would love a glass of milk, and two slices of wheat toast, please. Slightly burnt, if possible." Vesper watched as the woman scrawled down her order, and then without another word, the waitress disappeared into the kitchen.

While Vesper lived in a world where comfort food was usually starchy and often involved heavily processed cheeses, a piece of warm toast with just a little dollop of butter was more than enough of a treat for her. Especially today, of all days, a day that had truly been the worst day of her life.

Her mother had been a nurse for forty years, starting her career by bandaging up soldiers coming home from the continent, as her British mother had referred to the rest of Europe as. She'd gotten pregnant with Vesper without a husband in the picture to help in her raising. Ainsley Lynch had been a good mother, she supposed, the best, really, especially to a child with Vesper's particular peculiarities.

Vesper had wanted for very little in her life, but she figured that was due to the fact that she had never asked for much. Her mother had worked nights, educating her daughter at home, and they had always been together. Vesper could vividly remember sitting under the desks at the nurse's stations when she was young while her mother cared for patients. It had actually been on these wards that Vesper had first displayed what her mother had called a 'rare and peculiar gift.'

As kind as her mother was, there had been rules that Vesper had been forced to follow. She had done so without complaint for most of her life. She frowned gently as she tried to remember the rules, the waitress was on her way back to her booth with a tall glass of milk and two pieces of ever so slightly burnt toast. It wasn't often that she actually got her order the way she'd requested, so Vesper appreciated that.

She thanked the woman and smiled up at her with violet eyes that sparkled with satisfaction. Vesper waited as the woman moved away again before she fumbled with the butter packet while she refocused on the list of rules that she had tried to pull out from the recesses of her memory.

The first was that she keep her ears covered at all times. That was due to the fact that she'd been born with a deformity on the top rear curve that had given her ears a somewhat pointed appearance. Vesper had learned at a very young age to braid and twist her long, white hair up in ways that efficiently hid her ears, or at the very least, the tops of them. Now, it was just second nature to do so.

The toast was still warm as she took her first bite, and Vesper closed her large, round eyes as she chewed slowly. Melted butter was just as flavorful as honey and sugar in her mind. Her milk was cold and she took a long sip of it before continuing to slowly nibble on her toast.

Rule number two had been to keep her back bound. That wasn't a problem for Vesper, either. She had never seen another person with wings on their body, and she was somewhat terrified of hers. She didn't know how to use them, and doubted that they would even work. When she was young, she had asked her mother if she was an angel, and her mother had frowned and said that an angel's wings were feathered, and that her wings were more like a moth. Vesper thought the multicolored wings on her back were ugly. She hated them for years. Her mother and warned her that if people found out that she had them, she would be put in a cage and studied. That had only made Vesper hate them even more. She's sewn together strips of white fabric in such a way as to strap them against her back and legs, and she made sure never to be anywhere but at home when the straps were removed.

The second piece of toast proved as tasty as the first and Vesper thought for just a moment about ordering two more slices. The door to the diner opened and she watched as a young man entered. His dark eyes moved over the inside of the room and when they met hers, they lingered for far longer than she was comfortable with. Eventually, he seated himself on a swivel chair at the long counter that faced the kitchen window, which put his back to her. Vesper frowned, checking off that second order of toast as not going to happen tonight. Instead, she picked up her glass of milk and took another drink. She could feel the coolness of the smooth container and reveled in the touch against her palm and fingers.

She was never, ever, to touch anyone, unless her mother had specifically requested it, as she had for years on the wards. Vesper could fix things, people and animals, she could heal them of their wounds, physical and mental, and cure them of disease. Ainsley Lynch had used Vesper's gift through the years to help people, but never enough to make people aware of her daughter's abilities. Her mother had cautioned her that if she were seen to heal a body, that she'd be taken away from her home and studied, leaving her mother alone in the small apartments they shared.

The waitress had taken the man's order and returned to the kitchen. Vesper was working on the last of her milk as the door to the diner opened again. The entry of the new customers was a lot noisier than when the man had entered, but Vesper watched the family make their way inside with quiet amusement.

A small brunette haired woman had entered first, though small seemed to be not quite the right word to describe her. She was young, a grin from ear to ear as she stepped inside, her legs and arms thin, but her belly was heavily rounded with child. She walked slowly inside, one hand never leaving the life she carried.

Vesper felt a pang of jealousy, but quickly forced it from her mind. Two children came in next, a little boy and girl. They looked like they were in early grammar school. It was late, and she wondered what had brought them out at this hour. Two men walked in last, tall, broad-shouldered, dominant looking men who appeared to be very protective of the first three that entered. Their eyes scanned the room slowly, taking in the waitress who had appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, the man at the table, and Vesper, alone in the back, her glass of milk halfway to her full, wide lips. She felt something stir in her lower body and widened her eyes, lowering her gaze from them quickly. She knew what desire was, she'd felt it from time to time over the years. The low throb that began to drum in her pussy when the muscular men looked her over had definitely been desire. She was most definitely not allowed to act on such a thing.

A man had kissed her once, softly, just his lips barely touching hers, and then he'd stepped back and touched his face, feeling the large gash over his right cheek begin to heal over, not even leaving a scar. That night, her mother had packed up their belongings and they'd left Ohio and moved to Iowa.

The family had pulled two tables together and had settled themselves into the seats surrounding them. Vesper could hear bits and pieces of their conversation from her seat in the back. They didn't live in St. Paul. They were only in town because they'd gone to a football game? No, no it had been a baseball game. The children were talking really fast and giggling a lot, at least when they weren't arguing with each other over who had more cotton candy or other such nonsense that was very important to children their age.

One of the men eventually stood up and walked towards Vesper, she could feel herself tensing up a little as he slowed near her side. Had he just growled a little? She raised her eyes as he walked past her and made his way into the men's bathroom that was behind her on the opposite wall.

The other man, the larger of the two, had brownish, hazel maybe, colored eyes, and they were once again focused on her. Vesper looked down at her empty glass of milk. It was time for her to leave, but she hadn't been brought the check yet. She licked her lower lip and looked towards the kitchen. If she were to go to the counter, she'd be near the man who had made her uneasy earlier, so she decided to wait just a little longer. Maybe the long gaze he'd sent her way had been just normal curiosity and appreciation. It could have been that, she shouldn't immediately feel like he was going to try to cause her harm. People, she had found over her many years, were generally good.

If it hadn't been for the new diners that had come in after her, Vesper could have sat where she was all night. As it was, she didn't have anywhere to go. Sighing, unable to change her current situation at all, she thought again on the rules that she had been forced to follow all of her life. It was a much better idea, and easier, than trying to figure out where she was going to go when she left the diner.

Vesper had been told repeatedly by her mother once she had gotten older, that she was not to use her gift to prolong her mother's life. At first, Vesper had understood, and had followed that rule, only saddened that doing so meant that she could no longer embrace even her own mother. But then Ainsley had gotten very sick with pneumonia at the age of 84. She had allowed her mother to be hospitalized and the doctors had told her that they expected her mother to die. She had been distraught, suddenly terrified of being left alone, and despite what her mother had made her promise, she had cured her mother.

The door to the bathroom opened at the same time the waitress reappeared, a plate of food in her hands for the lone diner, and drinks in the other for the family near the front. Vesper made a gesture with her hand letting the waitress know that she would like her check, and Vesper felt the warmth of the man as he passed by her, a little closer this time and she could hear the audible breath that he took when he was near her side.

Vesper thought she heard his chest rumble softly with a growl but wasn't sure, it was strange and he was being watched in his return to the table by both the other man and the woman. Vesper couldn't shake the way the brown-haired, blue-eyed man made her feel. Uneasy and aroused. She shook her head to herself. This wouldn't do at all. Certainly not today of all days. Her mother would be very unhappy with her. Well, she would have been if she was able to have an emotion. Death made that improbable.

The second time that Vesper had broken the rules was when her mother was 102 years old. She'd known her mother had gone to the doctor and while the news was obviously not good, she had refused to tell Vesper what was going on. It was a few weeks later when she'd received a visit summary from an oncologist that Vesper learned that her mother had cancer. Pancreatic cancer, to be exact, and again, Vesper had cured her. Ainsley had been furious this time, yelling at her daughter. She'd blamed Vesper for keeping her from her own parents, her family, and her friends. She'd never been able to marry or have a date, and now everyone that she had ever loved was dead.

Besides Vesper, her daughter had expected her to say, but she never did. It was then that she had promised to never again interfere with her mother's fate. What she'd done had been cruel, according to her mother, and Vesper had apologized. She had apologized for keeping her mother alive. Just the thought made her gut tighten and she felt the sting of tears that she refused to shed in her eyes.

So, yesterday morning, when Vesper had found her mother sitting slumped over on the peach-colored armchair that she had always preferred to the green one next to it, Vesper had not touched her mother. Instead, she had called 911 and watched as the two EMTs told each other what Vesper already knew. Ainsley's right pupil was blown and she was having a stroke. Her mother was unresponsive, so the likelihood that it was a hemorrhage was high.

Her mother had died at 1:37 am the next morning, this morning.

Vesper accepted the check and then reached into the left pocket of the backpack she'd brought with her. All of her belongings were inside. She'd gone back to the apartment and grabbed her things before the landlord could change the locks. She wasn't on the lease, nor was she on any paperwork at the hospital. In fact, as far as anyone knew, Vesper Lynch didn't even exist. There wasn't even a record of her birth.

Vesper carefully unfolded the five dollar bill and placed it on top of her bill and thanked the waitress quietly when the woman took the money from her a few moments later. Vesper knew it was time to leave the diner, but she was hesitant to do so. Leaving meant the young man could follow her, but even more worrisome to Vesper was that she had absolutely no idea where she would go when she walked out of those doors. Her mother had always kept cash in the house for Vesper on the occurrence of her death, but it was only a few thousand dollars and Vesper was reluctant to part with any of it.

Getting up from her seat, she smoothed down her ankle length gray and black shirt that she was wearing and made sure her jacket covered her bottom as well as it could, and then she picked up her backpack and put it on her back. A back that felt abnormally sore. She frowned, she hadn't unbound her wings in over a day now and they were hurting her more than she wanted to admit. Eventually, she would have to unbind them, but she had no idea where she would be able to do that.

Sighing, and sending one last anxiety filled look at the back of the young man who was elbow deep in a plate of biscuits and sausage, and another at the family who was being delivered their meal, Vesper started walking towards the door.

She was just past the chair where the little boy was sitting when she looked down and saw the brown haired man reaching out towards her wrist with his large palm, just as the part of her shoulder blade that was connected to her wings shot out with a painful spasm. Vesper felt herself whimper as she jerked away from him just before he was able to touch her.

The problem was the very shifty child closest to her who turned to look at her when she whimpered and as she swung her hand away from the attractive man who'd moved to touch her, the back of her hand had brushed up against the boy's cheek.

Oh, dear God, Vesper frowned as she pulled her hand in towards her chest and stared, wide eyed down at the little boy. He had no visible wounds, thankfully, but she knew that she wasn't always able to see what ailed a person, and she'd felt a slight fluttering weirdness when she'd touched him that she'd never felt before. Please let that have just been static electricity, and please be that he had not needed healing, please, please.

"Are you all right, miss?" The largest man spoke, his eyes very focused on her.

"Grigory didn't mean to scare you, he was just going to tell you that your backpack was unzipped." The woman said gently.

"Mommy, I can see." The little boy said very softly.

"I'll go get you all some ketchup." The waitress left the area and once again, she was lost to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry that I scared you." The man whose name was obviously Grigory said, his blue eyes looking at her curiously.

"Of course you can see, you silly. You've been able to do that for a while-." The little girl giggled at her brother, but stopped talking when her mother looked her way.

"No, stupid, I can see with my own eyes." The little boy shot back at his sibling.

Vesper felt her gut tighten and her skin paled as she looked away from the man to the little boy, and then back at the man who'd tried to touch her arm.

"Miss, are you all right? You seemed like you were in pain a moment ago." The big black-haired man said, obviously ignoring the little boy who was looking around their table with excited vigor. She had healed a blind boy and none of the adults with him seemed to react to it at all. That was weird and unexpected.

"I'm fine, really, I'm-I'm sorry to bother you. My back is just sore and I'm tired. I should be getting home." She hoped that they would let her leave, but knew that was wishful thinking when the brown haired man shook his head and motioned to the empty seat across from him.

"Won't you please join us? We're in town celebrating our son's birthday and plan on ordering an ice cream after we eat." His voice made it all sound more like an order, and because Vesper's whole life had been about trying not to attract attention to herself, she nodded gently and moved around both men, careful not to touch either of them, and sat in the chair next to the little girl, her back against the wall.

"I'm Anya, this is my son, Sam, and my daughter, Penny. That's Yakov," The brunette pointed to the man on Vesper's left, "and that's Grigory."

Vesper wondered at the lack of modifiers when she'd introduced the men. Yakov, when he'd asked her to join them, had called the boy 'our son,' so wouldn't that make him her boyfriend or husband or something? What about Grigory? Vesper felt the blue-eyed man had to be part of their family somehow but couldn't figure it out.

"I'm Vesper," she could hear herself softly say the words but felt very awkward doing so, she wasn't used to meeting people.

"Are you from St. Paul?" The man across the table from her asked and Vesper thoughtlessly shook her head.