Read Online Paranormals (Book 1) by Christopher Andrews - Free Book Online
Authors: Christopher Andrews
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remember drinking the last cup. "Better not. I don’t want to be up all night. Maybe just some ice water."
"Sure thing." She left and quickly returned with a tall glass. "Doing some homework?"
"Not exactly. I graduated this past spring."
Christine smiled, and for the first time, Michael evaluated her as more than just cute . "What’s your degree?"
Michael hesitated for a moment, then decided that there was no reason to lie about it. After all, he wasn’t exactly an undercover agent. "I was going to be an engineering major, but I ended up going to the PCA academy."
Christine’s eyes widened. "You’re in the Paranormal Control Agency?"
"Yep."
" Really ." To his pleasant surprise, she slid into the booth across from him. "So you’re an agent now?"
Michael smirked. "They call me ‘ensign’ — we follow Naval nomenclature — but yeah, I’m an agent."
"That’s so cool . Have you met any paranormals?"
"A few."
"Would you believe that I haven’t met a single person who got changed by the Paranormal Effect? Not one! I didn’t even get to see the White Flash when it—"
"Christine!" the supervisor called from the other end of the restaurant. "Order up!"
Christine grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Back to work." As she stood, she glanced down and seemed to notice the burn scars on Michael’s hands for the first time. "Ouch. Did that happen at the Academy?"
Michael scooped the cards back into the deck and started shuffling them again. "Uh, no. It happened ... earlier."
Christine didn’t have time to press for details as the supervisor cleared her throat viciously. "Later," she whispered, and hurried up to the counter.
As she walked away, Michael slowly stopped shuffling and set the cards down. He hadn’t meant to be rude to her, but, thankfully, she didn’t seem to take it that way. The Academy psychologist had helped him work through most of it — his therapy sessions had been a condition of his admittance and continued attendance — but his hands were still a reminder, and occasionally proved to be a soft spot.
Not that he would ever want to be completely over the ordeal — far from it. Michael had always believed in the philosophy that what did not kill us only made us stronger ...
and he beat at the flames beat at them as quickly as he could and Jason screamed and he tried but
Michael’s hands tightened into fists. He took several deep breaths, counting to five each time before releasing the air. Then, almost of their own accord, his hands sought and found the deck of cards, and began dealing.
Ace of Diamonds, Nine of Spades ...
POWERHOUSE
"Lincoln! Liincooln! "
Lincoln sat bolt upright on the couch, completely disoriented and feeling like he had just jumped out of his own skin.
" Liiinncooolnn! "
Sarah , he realized. Shoulda known right off . He threw the blanket back and hurried down the hall to his half-sister’s room.
"Lincoln!" she cried in relief when she saw him in the glow of the night light. She reached out to him with both arms, desperate for his embrace. Tears streamed in twin rivers down her face, and her lower lip quivered vehemently.
His heart aching at her distress — and all of it made worse by the fact that this happened at least once a week — Lincoln sat on the side of her bed and took her into his muscular, encompassing arms. The seven-year-old buried her face in his chest and sobbed uncontrollably. He knew of no words to truly comfort her, so he merely stroked her hair — hair the same exact dark shade as his own, and which complimented their mutually dark skin — and rocked her gently back and forth.
"Linc," came a drowsy voice from across the small room, "she okay?"
"Yeah, Tommy," he said softly. "Go back to sleep."
Tommy stared at the scene a second longer, then collapsed back into his own bed covers as if his
"Sure thing." She left and quickly returned with a tall glass. "Doing some homework?"
"Not exactly. I graduated this past spring."
Christine smiled, and for the first time, Michael evaluated her as more than just cute . "What’s your degree?"
Michael hesitated for a moment, then decided that there was no reason to lie about it. After all, he wasn’t exactly an undercover agent. "I was going to be an engineering major, but I ended up going to the PCA academy."
Christine’s eyes widened. "You’re in the Paranormal Control Agency?"
"Yep."
" Really ." To his pleasant surprise, she slid into the booth across from him. "So you’re an agent now?"
Michael smirked. "They call me ‘ensign’ — we follow Naval nomenclature — but yeah, I’m an agent."
"That’s so cool . Have you met any paranormals?"
"A few."
"Would you believe that I haven’t met a single person who got changed by the Paranormal Effect? Not one! I didn’t even get to see the White Flash when it—"
"Christine!" the supervisor called from the other end of the restaurant. "Order up!"
Christine grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Back to work." As she stood, she glanced down and seemed to notice the burn scars on Michael’s hands for the first time. "Ouch. Did that happen at the Academy?"
Michael scooped the cards back into the deck and started shuffling them again. "Uh, no. It happened ... earlier."
Christine didn’t have time to press for details as the supervisor cleared her throat viciously. "Later," she whispered, and hurried up to the counter.
As she walked away, Michael slowly stopped shuffling and set the cards down. He hadn’t meant to be rude to her, but, thankfully, she didn’t seem to take it that way. The Academy psychologist had helped him work through most of it — his therapy sessions had been a condition of his admittance and continued attendance — but his hands were still a reminder, and occasionally proved to be a soft spot.
Not that he would ever want to be completely over the ordeal — far from it. Michael had always believed in the philosophy that what did not kill us only made us stronger ...
and he beat at the flames beat at them as quickly as he could and Jason screamed and he tried but
Michael’s hands tightened into fists. He took several deep breaths, counting to five each time before releasing the air. Then, almost of their own accord, his hands sought and found the deck of cards, and began dealing.
Ace of Diamonds, Nine of Spades ...
POWERHOUSE
"Lincoln! Liincooln! "
Lincoln sat bolt upright on the couch, completely disoriented and feeling like he had just jumped out of his own skin.
" Liiinncooolnn! "
Sarah , he realized. Shoulda known right off . He threw the blanket back and hurried down the hall to his half-sister’s room.
"Lincoln!" she cried in relief when she saw him in the glow of the night light. She reached out to him with both arms, desperate for his embrace. Tears streamed in twin rivers down her face, and her lower lip quivered vehemently.
His heart aching at her distress — and all of it made worse by the fact that this happened at least once a week — Lincoln sat on the side of her bed and took her into his muscular, encompassing arms. The seven-year-old buried her face in his chest and sobbed uncontrollably. He knew of no words to truly comfort her, so he merely stroked her hair — hair the same exact dark shade as his own, and which complimented their mutually dark skin — and rocked her gently back and forth.
"Linc," came a drowsy voice from across the small room, "she okay?"
"Yeah, Tommy," he said softly. "Go back to sleep."
Tommy stared at the scene a second longer, then collapsed back into his own bed covers as if his
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