At First Sight (Persephonii Waters Book 1) Read online

  At First Sight

  A Persephonii Waters Novel

  Book 1

  By Melanie Brown

  Copyright © 2015 by Melanie Brown

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

  * For creative purposes I have appropriated the area of land around the Lakeshore district of WA. along with some inventive geography and expansion. An amalgamation of the picturesque state of Washington has been victim to my overactive imagination and become the focus of this book. Through some of the locations are real, if exaggerated, the characters, events, etc. in no way reflect actual events, or people.

  First Printing: 2015

  ISBN-13: 978-1514682111

  Mirror Image Studios

  13643 Pinto Lane

  Lodi, California. 95240

  Ordering Information:

  Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, educators, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the above listed address.

  U.S. trade bookstores and wholesalers: Please contact Mirror Image Studios Tel: (209) 663-3044 or email [email protected].

  This book is dedicated to my sister Amelia, author in her own right, who inspired me to see this thing through to the end.

  Table of contents

  Chapter 1: Coda...................................................................9

  Chapter 2: Para..................................................................19

  Chapter 3: P.P.D................................................................33

  Chapter 4: Wyr...................................................................47

  Chapter 5: Pack..................................................................65

  Chapter 6: Instinct..............................................................79

  Chapter 7: Aura..................................................................91

  Chapter 8: Lore................................................................101

  Chapter 9: Turning...........................................................109

  Chapter 10: Para-Consultant...........................................119

  Chapter 11: Vampyre.......................................................133

  Chapter 12: Safe Haven...................................................149

  Chapter 13: Cabal............................................................167

  Chapter 14: Gifted............................................................179

  Chapter 15: Kiss...............................................................191

  Chapter 16: Blood Sub.....................................................207

  Chapter 17: Liaison..........................................................219

  Chapter 18: H.V.V............................................................231

  Chapter 19: Theory..........................................................243

  Chapter 20: Wyr-Clinic....................................................251

  Chapter 21: Chylde..........................................................261

  Chapter 22: Maker...........................................................273

  Chapter 23: Sire...............................................................283

  Chapter 24: The Hunt.......................................................293

  Chapter 25: Rogue...........................................................301

  Chapter 26: Wards...........................................................317

  Glossary: Percy's Quick Guide............................................325

  Except from Tunnel Vision: a P. Waters Case.....................337

  State of Washington Map

  Chapter 1: Coda:

  The Electronic version of the Lore, the collection and the culmination of everything known about the Paranormal.

  Persephonii’s Warehouse, main floor of the living space; Lakewood, Washington. 6pm PST.

  Sliding the key into the lock, she could feel the wards, whole and healthy vibrate in recognition, greeting her in their version of ‘welcome home.’ Having picked up her mail from the post office on her way in, the ‘load’ had what nearly amounted to, glancing down at the canvas bag the woman had been kind enough to give her, a month’s worth of mail, from only a week’s worth of absence. The majority of them looked like Christmas cards from family and friends, which reminded her that she would have to reciprocate in kind, sooner rather than later.

  At times like this, she was especially glad for the warehouse’s large cargo elevator, she could only imagine that trekking up the four flights of stairs would be a pain with an achy ankle, luckily a few more days and her Waters blood would have it healed. Given that the sprain was only a few days old and bruises had already faded it wouldn't be long until the limp and soreness was gone as well. They were a kind of parting gift from her last case, she thought she could have done far worse

  After the weeklong trip, whose specifics were officially classified, all she wanted to do was update the Coda before she did anything else, having spent the plane ride back going over the information and re-writing her notes. The samples she had collected where enough to preserve a small section for her research and send on the rest to the Waters Research and Preservation private labs. Her trusty note book had been full, now it was time to update the database that was her Coda, and share the information with those who could use it most. Updating, then she planned to take a shower and head to bed for the next few days, not likely to happen but a good goal none the less.

  It was cases like this last one that reminded her why they had gone into the private sector, because after all was said and done there was still the paper work. They’d had a day of filling out forms and answering questions. Chase, her business partner, ex-handler and friend, had demanded an exorbitant amount due to the severity of the last case. Surprisingly, his terms had been authorized and they now had three times their normal fees in the bank. After the big debacle that had been the search and rescue mission at the U.S military base, the higher ups had decided they didn’t like the idea of having such an unexplored jungle at their backs and had commissioned a team of villagers and soldiers to rectify that. Expedition teams were scheduled to start their runs in a few weeks, Persephonii promised the men that she would help design a series of tactical travel and supply packs that would stand up to the more exotic things they might encounter.

  Now back home in the warehouse, just the view from her hallway gave her the feeling of reassurance. Looking into the space, one would have thought a rather eclectic, somewhat preppy young man might have lived there. It was tidy and well kept with an assortment of items she had picked up from her travels. Nothing overtly feminine immediately presented itself, and the setting was very well... many people might have called Persephonii a number of things including obsessive or a neat freak, the truth was that she didn’t believe in putting things off. With a large collection of items for both paranormal investigation and her consulting work, the warehouse could easily become a nightmare, more storage and hoarding than living space. She had learned from experience that waiting often caused more harm than good, especially if things started piling up.

  Already busy with work and travel, letting even one or two chores slip by meant trouble, in the form of misplaced papers, expired samples and the like. On that path chaos lurked not too far ahead. ‘Anything wor
th doing was worth doing right’ and ‘don’t put off till tomorrow, what you can do today,’ might have been embroidered on a throw pillow somewhere, had she been one for decorative pillows. Overall the color scheme of her apartment was much like her wardrobe, she gravitated towards grays, dark to light, she tended to have only a few odd pieces that brought in a pop of color. The style left the spaces cozy, if not a little cool and far posher than her less than deliberate acquisition of items suggested. She could attribute the coalescence of her myriad purchases into the home before her to Simon, her best friend Kyrian’s younger brother, who had taken it upon himself to see that she had a modicum of style and comfort. And she suspected he used her home as a design space while he worked on his interior design degree, not that she complained.

  Winter was swiftly approaching lending a greater chill to the air, it also left the warehouse, the top floor living space especially, as unheated as the less used midlevel floors. A heating system had been installed but she had yet to master it’s programming, and have it maintain a warmer environment. Kyrian had offered to drop by and program the system, but he was often just as busy as she was, and though she wanted to see her best friend slash semi-adopted brother she wanted to spend time with him, not have him messing with the heating while he was there.

  Given that the luggage would hopefully be arriving soon, or so the delivery man had said when she hired him, she was left to change into what slim pickings were left in her closet. Assessing her current outfit which consisted of a dark, skinny legged jean, several layers of cotton shirts and a large though light knitted sweater in navy, her cloths had been fine for the trip home, but would not work in Washington’s winter weather.

  Her knitted hat, along with her cave exploring attire had been thrown away, having not lasted much past emerging from the caves and subsequent trek through the jungle. A second and third outfit had been covered in fire suppression foam and a tar like concoction of oils from examining a village distillery whose owner was sure that his warehouse was inhabited by a chupacabra like creature, respectively. Additionally, the celebration ceremony of the villagers had ended in her last of two sets of clothing being stained beyond cleaning, from the ‘blessing’ rite. She’d had to purchase new boots just to make it home, and thanked the good Lord that they hadn’t stayed longer or she might have had to board the plane wrapped in nothing but a sheet.

  She was used to living out of her luggage during certain times of the year as the need for her skills rose and fell in waves. Thus, she tended to keep an ever revolving set of packed cases, some stored in the Argent Waters private plane, others stored at home in the lower floors of the warehouse, which left her closet rather bare this time of year. The combination of delayed flight plans and snow had left her luggage at the private air strip waiting to be driven home, but its contents would do her little good.

  Going through the third floor’s catch, stacked with different hues of hard cased luggage in a variety of sizes, categorized by color and a mis-match of Para subtypes, would take too much energy. Of the cases the green shades were for the land cryptids, mostly gear for forest and jungle climates which tended to be packed with more utilitarian grey, tan clothing, and excess of water purifiers, fauna and flora sample collecting gear and texts. Now thanks to the last case she would be stocking them with the recent addition of condensed snake repellant. Blue shades were for water based creatures, the light sky blue for the Myr community, with the larger Cobalt case housing the less sighted water dwellers such as the Naiads. It would take her hours to go through the cases, the majority of them held supplies but only a few of them held clothing. Even mentally going through the categories, it was clear that she currently owned little to wear.

  Had anyone bothered to look into her closet, they would have seen an appalling lack of wardrobe as the majority of the items were packed away and what little was left hanging was too thin, many of which still had their Goodwill or Thrift store tags on them. Persephonii Winters hardly ever bought anything new, other than her staples like groceries and the occasional new sets of undies, bought prepackaged in white. She was not, contrary to popular speculation around the local precinct, a miser. In fact, she had bought the warehouse and spent her money on herself and loved ones often sparing no expense as she could well afford it. Like her cleaning habits, she believed in idioms like ‘you get what you pay for’ and ‘work smarter, not harder.’ Which lead her to quite a few realizations about her personal values which resulted in some rather unique spending and consumer habits.

  Realizations, like the fact that designer jeans protect just as well as those bought from Goodwill, but the later would leave her with a lot less guilt when she had to throw them away after the one wear. Or that she preferred spending money on things that spoke to her or did double duty, like the recent purchase of personal flasks which filtered, cooled and carried gallons of water but weighed no more than a standard water bottle. She made decisions not just on looks but on purpose, often preferring gently used items, whose soft aura’s calmed and soothed. Her wardrobe was just one facet of a rather complex woman. It would do her a grave disservice to judge her simply by her looks. Strangers might have questioned her choices and professionalism, the world based their decisions on what they saw at first sight, but then she had always seen the world very differently.

  Usually dressed in layers as the use of the majority of her gifts consumed a lot of energy, which more often than not resulted in a rapid loss of body heat, she could be found in at least a few layers even in summer. With a wide assortment of flee market and Goodwill finds, those fashionably inclined might call her ensemble a kind of casual street style mixed with hobo chic. In her line of work, meeting with clients could easily change to traipsing through sewers, ruins, caves, encountering slime, blood, and other bodily fluids from a number of species, on a nearly daily basis. She saw little point in spending money on designer clothes. The majority of these types of fluids wouldn't come out of fabrics, and the rest, well, no amount of washing could restore her confidence in them.

  Outfits started with pants, usually a hard wearing jean in a dark color to mid tone grey, they tended to hide more of the unmentionable spots. Closest to the skin lay a wife-beater, typically white but occasionally black. Over which was a thin long sleeved shirt, covered with a tight almost corset like vest, which provided protection from both mid-level spells and projectiles.

  The Vest was one of her larger expenditures having been specially made for her. The work of a cousin, whose leading research in spell-work and textiles was in the process of creating a line of tactical grade under-armor. Mass production was still a few years away, but the prototype of which she had not only paid, but worked alongside Alexis to make, was one of their best. He assured her the designs were her’s alone and had at first argued that he wouldn’t take her money as she was helping him with the warding of the fabric. She had responded with questions about Lykos, one of her older brothers, getting free products to which Alexis had said 'of course not'. Countering his protests she had made the point of ‘why should she not pay when the Reveers did?’ But more than that, if her brother ever found out, he would give both Alexis and her no end of grief. So Alexis would keep the designs for his work, she would get a commission on each one sold, while still paying for any private work she had for him. Her recent request was a similar vest for Chase, who tended to leave his Kevlar in the car. Perhaps she could get him to wear the vest as a stylish alternative.

  Over her vest, there tended to be any assortment of shirts, long sleeved or not that were handy, customarily with some sort of flannel thrown in there. As one consolation to fashion, her clothes did tend to match in hue and did not explode into bright, clashing color. Staring dismally into the back of her closet, she thought she had better call back the car company and see if they could send Charles, her driver back to allow her to run a few more errands. He had just dropped her off, so should hopefully still be in the area. Dialing the number from her home phone, she spo
ke with Gladys the company’s operator, who radioed back to Charles, who swung around and picked her up.

  Charles Dryden had been a driver for Ms. Waters since he had first gotten the job escorting people around the county three years ago. They often talked about hiring him on as a full time driver since she didn’t own a car but with her traveling so much he would be left with little to do and even less wages than he was making now. She had offered to pay him a monthly salary and drive for the car company, but their contracts forbade it. So he dropped what he was doing when she called, taking her around town, in return she tipped him handsomely. Now they were on the way to a staple in their travels, the Lakewood Thrift Store.

  Quickly walking through the racks, Persephonii grabbed a few pair of black jeans, some white men's dress shirts, a couple long sleeved under shirts in varying colors, an assortment of knitted items, including sweaters and a new hat. With these new additions rounding out the overall Hobo Chic, her customary collection of bangles and bracelets; a tangle of assorted charms, wards, personal reminders, along with an original 1958 Omega, steel, men's watch, cluttered her left wrist. A purchase after the last digital watch Chase had given her had short circuited. It had lasted longer than any of the others since it was wound and didn't run on batteries or electricity of any kind, something that didn't mix well with the number of spells and magic she often encountered.

  During investigations, hidden beneath her many layers and jacket, strapped around her waist, were two medium sized modular utility belts. Whose pockets were full of everything from powders and crystals to duct tape. Her official jewelry was limited to the family crest ring on her right ring finger and a intricate golden cased compass hanging from a chain around her neck, which didn't point north.