Fortune's Shadow: Nexus Chronicles, #1

By Sue Archer

"You thought you could live without me…"

 

Jocelyn "Jinxy" Lancaster is having a horrible week. Her dream of becoming a famous indie musician is going nowhere, her day job in her tourist-friendly hometown of Bridgepoint is in danger of disappearing, and to top it all off, it's almost the ten-year anniversary of her Mom's death.

 

When her best friend Grace gives her a wish keeper to help change her luck, she decides she's got nothing left to lose.

 

She's wrong.

 

At first it seems like she's on her way to getting everything she desires. Then the people close to her begin acting strangely. She's having trouble remembering things, and at night, she's being haunted by dreams she can't explain.

 

Then the best night of her life happens—and all hell breaks loose.

 

Now it's up to Jocelyn to try and undo what she's created and save everyone she loves from chaos and destruction. And maybe, if she's incredibly lucky, she can even save herself….

• Language: English
• Publisher: Doorway Between Worlds
• Release date: Apr 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781777085629

Book preview

BEFORE

The night air slammed against her exposed skin like a wall of ice, but all she could feel was burning rage as she flung herself into the driver’s seat of her convertible and sparked the engine to life.

You wanted to try to command me? Watch this, you pathetic fool.

She gunned the accelerator with her spiked heel to drown out his shouts, a smile of pure satisfaction twitching on her lips as he was forced to leap back to avoid the front wheel crushing his foot.

As she tore through side streets lined with the sleepy, quaint homes of her oblivious neighbours, she ignored the snow-covered pavement beneath her and leaned hard into the turns. She was sick to death of feeling weak and trapped. It was time to go for it all.

Nothing was going to stop her from taking everything she desired. And no one was going to get in her way as she finally became everything she was meant to be.

She careened onto the empty highway at full speed, laughing as the car fought a sideways slide before digging in, gripping the pavement as tightly as her bare hands unconsciously gripped the wheel.

Her knuckles turned white as her fingers squeezed harder. She didn’t notice, just as she didn’t see the urgent flashing glints of red from the ring on her hand as she accelerated past the last of the town streetlights.

All she could see was freedom.

Her car’s headlights pierced the darkness ahead of her. No one in small-town Bridgepoint was brave enough to be on the road after the storm, so they weren’t around to witness her triumph. It didn’t matter. Soon they would have no choice but to hear everything she had to say. She relaxed and settled back into her seat as the road came into a curve.

Giselle Lancaster’s hands spasmed, and with a jerk, the car swung into the oncoming lane, swerving sideways.

She cursed and slammed on the brakes. They screeched in agony as her tires slid across the black ice hidden beneath the snow.

As she hit the ditch, the car bounced and flipped toward a towering, frozen maple tree.

Glass shattered.

Right before her body died, Giselle’s mind was consumed by a final thought.

Freedom. At last.

TUESDAY

Chapter 1

I’m not going to look at it, Jocelyn Lancaster thought. I’m not.

She already knew what she would see, even if she was still holding on to a foolish twitch of hope.

Sighing, she stood up from the remains of her breakfast toast and, carrying her oversized mug with her, slipper-shuffled the five steps from her small second-hand kitchen table to her apartment window. She leaned against the cracked wooden frame and stared down four storeys to the park below as she sipped the remains of her oolong tea. The backs of her eyes ached from her restless night. She shivered, the late November coldness seeping through the single pane and into her bones.

Jocelyn hated the cold. But she didn’t move from the window. Instead, she thought about how Grace would view the day and attempted to take in the dull grey clouds hovering over the skeletal maples with the cheerful air of Heidi overlooking her beloved Alps.

A lone woman muffled in an overgrown blanket of woolly layers hurried along the winding path to downtown, her forehead braced against the freezing wind. Jocelyn shuddered in sympathy.

Well, at least I tried.

She turned back to the table and sighed again. Giving in even as she mentally chided herself, she walked over and scooped her phone off the table, thumbing open the stats for her latest video. Her lungs tightened in anticipation.

No new hits.

She closed her eyes, her heart sinking. Last week, she’d been convinced her latest song was the one. She’d known it. Her voice had twined around her acoustic guitar as if they were magically fused together. As if the two of them had become music itself.

But that was last week. This week, she was back to reality. A reality where bad things happened.

She forced herself to finish her tea and carried her plate over to the sink to wash it, trying to reason herself out of her negative thoughts the way Dr. Culliford recommended. She wasn’t stupid—she knew being a successful indie musician wasn’t something that happened overnight. She’d pulled together a good plan. She just needed to keep marketing herself, keep trying to grow an audience, keep pushing for a local gig.

Keep going.

Yes, this was the worst week of the year. But it was going to get better, and everything was going to come together. Someday. She hoped.

In the meantime, she’d have to make do with regular commenter musicfan237 telling her she was hot stuff. Even if it was creepy.

As she reached up to put her dried plate away in the cupboard, her intercom buzzed.

Seriously? she asked the door. Who would come by at eight in the morning on a Tuesday?

Half-annoyed, half-worried, she went over and pressed the button. Yes?

Hey, it’s me! came Grace’s voice, her usual cheeriness muffled by the scratchy speaker.

Jocelyn’s heart lifted. If there was one person who could make her feel better today, it was Grace Yu. You’re kidding, right? she teased. Shouldn’t you be on your way to class?

Who are you, my Ma-Ma? C’mon. Let me up. I’ve got something for you.

Jocelyn hit the building door release, wondering what could have prompted her best friend to be late to her favourite college class. Of course, even sculpture couldn’t keep Grace focused when she was excited about something. Shrugging, Jocelyn sat on the stool beside her door, traded her fuzzy bear slippers for her worn flat brown leather boots, and gathered up her backpack and mitts. She was pulling on her favourite winter coat—the blue one with the extra-warm hood—when she heard Grace’s footsteps and stepped aside as her apartment door swung in.

Hey there, stranger! Oh, crap, you’re on your way to work, aren’t you. I promise this’ll just take a sec. Grace strode in, and Jocelyn felt the familiar sense of envy at how easily her best friend navigated through the world. From her smooth straight black hair and sparkling dark eyes to her red coat-clad body and glamorously booted feet, Grace effortlessly displayed the confidence of someone who knows things will always turn out for the best.

So, what have you got for me? asked Jocelyn, hauling on her backpack. She tried to think of the possibilities and quickly gave up. With Grace, it could be anything. She was like a raven when it came to collecting beautiful things. She’d helped Jocelyn furnish half the apartment with all her second-hand discoveries. Which was fortunate, since Jocelyn hated shopping.

Well, I was looking out the window this morning and saw it was so blah, and I remembered how hard it is for you this time of year, so . . . Grace reached into her oversized handbag and dug out a smallish white box wrapped in red ribbon. She looked up at Jocelyn, then suddenly looked away, almost as if she were feeling shy. Which was rather miraculous. I made it for you last month. I was saving it for Christmas, but I decided I should give it to you today. She looked up and gave Jocelyn her usual bright smile. I hope you like it. She held the box out in both hands, as if it were fragile.

Oh, wow, Grace. Thank you. Jocelyn stuffed her mitts in her pockets and carefully took hold of the box. She walked over to the kitchen counter to set it down beside her tidy paper recycling pile and untied the ribbon. Actually, it has been a bit of a down morning today, so I could definitely use a pick-me-up. That was an understatement, but she was already feeling more optimistic now that Grace was here.

Grace walked over to the counter and boosted herself up to perch on its edge, looking down at the box. Still no love for the music, I take it?

Jocelyn laughed wryly. You could say that. She opened the box and stopped. Oh, Grace, this is beautiful. She gently picked up the rounded, glazed white clay pot with a small hooked lid, about four inches in size. On one side blazed the small painted figure of a red-and-gold dragon, its snout raised triumphantly. On the other was a Chinese character sketched in gold.

Isn’t this the symbol for good fortune? Jocelyn asked.

"So, you have been learning something from hanging out with my family all these years, Grace teased. Yes, it is. It’s called fu. And the pot is my own special version of a wish keeper. You write your wish down, put it inside, and then set the pot down in a lucky place. She looked around Jocelyn’s apartment and snapped her fingers. There! She pointed to the kitchen table with an air of triumph. Right there, by the window, across from the door. Perfect for someone who wants to become famous. The next thing you know, record execs will be falling all over themselves to sign you!"

Jocelyn smiled at her enthusiasm. I love it. It’s gorgeous, and I promise I’ll use it. Even though you know I don’t really believe in that stuff. If only it were that easy.

Grace looked at her. I know you don’t. But I want you to do it anyway. And you will, right? Even if you think it’s a bunch of hocus-pocus crap?

Jocelyn laughed. For you, anything.

Great, said Grace, sliding off the counter. Well, if nothing else, I made you laugh today. Oh! I almost forgot—you can put a special token in the keeper, too. A little something to help your wish along.

You mean like my lucky rabbit’s foot? Jocelyn asked.

Grace rolled her eyes. Like you have one. No, something personal. She turned away as Jocelyn’s hand rose automatically toward the silver chain around her neck and then lowered back down as she realized what she was doing. No. Not going to think about it. I’d better get out of your hair. I need to catch the next bus, anyway. Professor Zelkoff likes me and all, but still.

Grace. When Grace turned back to look at her, Jocelyn leaned over and wrapped her arms around her friend’s slim frame. You’re the best, Gee-Gee.

Grace squeezed her back. Any time, Jinxy.

Jocelyn smiled at hearing Grace’s childhood nickname for her, recalling a different morning involving a comically disastrous breakfast experiment. As she pulled back from the hug, she was struck by how little she’d heard Grace say it lately. Grace had been her closest friend for practically her entire life, but Jocelyn hadn’t even texted her in the last few days. She needed to get out of her slump and start paying attention. What about you? How are you doing?

Oh, you know me, said Grace. It’s all good. Well, except for arguing with Ma-Ma about what I’m doing with my life again. But you know how that goes. She looked at Jocelyn. I mean . . . with Cynthia and everything. She laid her hand on Jocelyn’s arm sympathetically.

Yeah. Jocelyn wasn’t looking forward to family dinnertime with her stepmother tonight. Listen, I know I’ve been kind of a bad friend lately. Too much going on in my head. You want to catch up at lunch tomorrow? Think Auntie Yu will give you a break if I come by later?

Sure, said Grace, brightening. She grinned. Maybe Baba will even let you have an extra fortune cookie. Hmm. I wonder what would happen if you added one of those to the keeper? Double wishing power?

The way my life is going lately, I’m thinking more like chaos and destruction. I’ll ask Ethan tonight. I’m sure he’ll have a theory. Her stepbrother loved reading fantasy roleplaying game rules, and he’d enjoy the challenge of speculating on the mechanics of wishing bonuses. Come on. I’ll walk you down. Picking up the to-be-recycled pile, Jocelyn bundled them both out the door before she felt the urge to check her phone again, deliberately leaving all thoughts of songs and wishes behind.

Chapter 2

And here I thought you only cared about self-help books for the musically inclined.

Jocelyn looked up and over at her boss, Ava, who was quirking her eyebrows at her in amusement from over the monitor at the checkout counter. What? Oh. She looked back down at the cheerful yellow cover of Twenty-Four Fantastically Easy Ways to Better Your Luck. I was just thinking about Grace, that’s all. She came by my apartment this morning. She shelved the book in the right place and then looked in the box to see whether they’d received any other tomes of relentlessly positive but useless advice in today’s shipment. Nope.

And? asked Ava. What exciting story did she have to share this time? That girl is always good for the latest Bridgepoint gossip.

Well, nothing, really. Jocelyn didn’t feel like telling Ava about Grace’s wish keeper even though she knew Ava would be interested. She moved over to the sports section and shelved yet another book about the history of hockey. She was on her way to class.

Well, that’s no excuse, said Ava. Next time, you need to bring me something good.

Ha. How about some lemon chicken from the Dragon tomorrow? I was hoping to go out for a late lunch with Grace. Assuming it’s okay with you.

Fine by me, said Ava. She pulled off her electric-blue glasses to rub her eyes and then deliberately set them farther down her nose before threading her fingers through her short, grey hair, which was currently spiked with purple. Yesterday it had been pink. Jocelyn liked to try to predict which colour would come next. Maybe orange. I swear they got the prescription wrong this time. I can’t read a damn thing without squinting. Ava glared at the monitor, moving her head and tilting her chin up and down.

You want to trade off? asked Jocelyn. She wandered over to the counter.

Ava grimaced, clicking a file closed. Jocelyn saw she’d been looking at the store’s income spreadsheet again. Considering how sales had been going lately, that was a worrying sign. No, I think I just need a break.

The old-fashioned bell at the front door chimed, and a lanky teenager in a hoodie and ripped jeans ambled in. No coat. It seemed the borderline-winter fashion rules for teenagers were still the same as when Jocelyn had graduated from high school three years ago. She was definitely relieved to be past all that ridiculousness. Brr.

Hey, Sanjit, she said, noticing that he was beginning to grow a beard again. I saved one of the Sandersons for you. It’s at the counter whenever you want it.

Sanjit nodded and sloped over to the science fiction and fantasy section.

Jocelyn turned back to Ava. Her boss had looked exhausted when she’d come in today, and now her black T-shirt with the pink words Yes I am a Grrrl was wrinkling under the force of her slumped shoulders. You okay? I can close out if you need me tonight.

Thanks, Joss, but no, I can’t ask you to do that. I know it’s your family dinner night. Besides, you’re already opening for me tomorrow. Sam’s appointment is first thing again, by the way, but you know how it goes. Hopefully, I’ll be in by eleven.

How’s Sam doing? I haven’t seen her come in lately. Ava’s wife had been diagnosed with breast cancer in the spring, and she’d been going through a ton of medical procedures ever since—a mastectomy, chemotherapy, and now radiation. Sam was such a calm, patient person—she had one of the best poker faces ever, as proven by her big win against Mayor Cameron in last year’s Bridgepoint charity game night—but Jocelyn knew she must be struggling, even if it was sometimes hard to tell what she was feeling when you talked to her. Thankfully Sam had been getting a lot of support from her coworkers at the women’s shelter, so Ava could still manage the store with Jocelyn’s help.

Ava looked over at where Sanjit was standing with his nose buried in an N.K. Jemisin. She lowered her voice anyway. Not so good, actually. I mean, they think she’ll be in the clear after this last round, but she’s been so tired and down all the time. Even more than when she had chemo. It’s all I can do to get her to have the energy to eat. I’ve been trying to get her to go to the Pony with me, or Tuesday night movies like we used to do, but then last night she finally snapped at me. She said everyone will just stare at her.

Oh, Ava.

Ava closed her eyes. I’ve told her we can get her a custom wig, whatever she wants to make her feel better, but she keeps saying we can’t afford it. She opened her eyes and stared at the computer screen in front of her as if she could still see the spreadsheet.

Jocelyn’s throat tightened. Can I help somehow? I mean, you know I don’t have a lot of money, but whatever I can do . . . Just don’t tell me we’re in trouble. Her pulse fluttered.

Ava gave her a faint smile, reached over, and squeezed her hand. Having you listen to me babble is all the help I need.

The door chimed again, and a short teenage girl with pale eyes and long blond hair walked in.

Ava pulled her hand away from Jocelyn and straightened. She put on a bright smile that would have fooled Jocelyn if she hadn’t seen her boss’s face a moment ago. Hey there, favourite niece!

Amanda snorted. I’d feel special if I wasn’t your only niece. She turned to Jocelyn and the shipping box sitting in front of her. Hey, Joss. Is the new Nalini Singh in there?

Next week, Jocelyn told her. I’ll be sure to text you as soon as it gets in.

Great, thanks. She made a beeline for the romance section. Hi, Sanjit, she said breezily.

Sanjit nodded his head without looking up from his book. Amanda appeared to take his reaction in stride, but a few seconds later, Jocelyn caught her peering at Sanjit over the shelf.

Jocelyn shook her head. Been there. Done that. Hopefully Amanda would have better luck.

She looked over at Ava, who was now squinting at the page of a publisher’s catalogue. It seemed sharing time was over now that Amanda was here.

She could understand why Ava was so determined to put on a brave face with her niece. After all, Jocelyn was doing the same thing with her own family.

And she’d definitely need her game face up tonight. She’d been checking her stats on her phone all day. Still nothing new. And now she was beginning to worry about the store again.

As Jocelyn turned away from the counter, she focused on her breathing. In . . . out. In . . . out. Then she went back to shelving the books, feeling somewhat soothed as she put everything into its proper order. At least this was something she could get right.

––––––––

Chapter 3

Jocelyn was finding family dinner harder than usual tonight—which was saying something. To be fair, she was particularly worn out from her work shift at Ava’s Emporium after dealing with Mrs. Bukowski right before closing. Once again, the old harpy had demanded to return books she’d read while pretending she hadn’t. Jocelyn had wished for the courage to tell her where to go, but Ava had come by before she could say anything, letting Mrs. Bukowski return the books as usual and exchange them for some others. Jocelyn had felt guilty about letting Ava deal with their crankiest customer, especially after hearing the latest news about Sam, and it had put her on edge.

She was even more unsettled now.

So, Jocelyn, how are things going at the bookstore? Cynthia asked as she picked up the serving bowl full of limp, steamed broccoli and speared some onto her plate. Have you been getting enough shifts lately? I know that’s been a struggle for you.

Jocelyn focused her eyes on her water glass so she wouldn’t have to look at her stepmother’s face. She took a swallow as her heartbeat sped up. It’s going all right, actually. Things have been busy. I’m working an extra shift tomorrow. She carved away in precise strokes at her well-beyond-done pork chop, wishing she were over at the Jade Dragon and eating their melt-in-your-mouth sweet and sour version instead.

I’m frankly surprised Ava can afford that. Cynthia turned to Dad. I heard some things at the office today. All discussions of client business are strictly confidential, of course, but when I heard Ava’s name, I couldn’t help but overhear, and it’s not good. I honestly don’t see how she’s going to last through to next tourist season, Stephen. Even with the holidays coming.

I’m right here if you want to talk about this to my face. Not