Minder

By Sandra Cox

A Young Adult Paranormal/Light Horror Novel On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, Aurora Valente goes through disturbing changes. She purrs and craves raw meat. Most alarming of all, she's taken to chasing wildlife. Her aunt gives her a beautiful, antique choker and tells her a story about a shapeshifting Minder princess and the beast that hunts the Minder's descendants. To Aurora it's only a story...till later that night when her world takes a turn into terror. A horrific beast chases her through the woods, where a puma with the eyes of a stranger comes to her rescue. While the beast and puma fight, she feels her bones break and reform. Her scream comes out a snarl. She lands on all fours, shaken to the depths of her soul.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra Cox
• Release date: Jun 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201358396

Sandra Cox

Multi-published author Sandra Cox writes YA Fantasy, Paranormal and Historical Romance, and Metaphysical Nonfiction. She lives in sunny North Carolina with her husband, a brood of critters, and an occasional foster cat. Although shopping is high on the list, her greatest pleasure is sitting on her screened-in porch, listening to the birds, sipping coffee and enjoying a good book. She’s a vegetarian and a Muay Thai enthusiast. Readers can find Sandra at sandracox.blogspot.com, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/SandraCox.Author, or at twitter.com@Sandra_Cox.

Book preview

Prologue

Among the northern tribes there is a legend passed down from generation to generation about shape-shifting Minders—guardians of the innocents—and how they came to be.

It is said that nowadays only a handful of Minders exist, hunted to near extinction by a fearsome beast. Of the remaining Minders, only one wears a garnet-studded collar, the symbol of protection and royalty.

Even when my aunt told me the story and handed me an ancient garnet-studded band, I had no idea the tale applied to me.

After all, it’s only a legend...

Chapter One

Mesmerized, I stared out the living room window at the froth-tipped waves of Lake Superior. I’d never heard the swells slap against the jagged rocks from inside the house before.

But I heard them now.

The phone rang and broke my concentration. I clapped my hands over my ears. The sound, unusually shrill, hurt my eardrums. Fumbling with the clip at my waist, I flipped open my cell, relieved to have the high-pitched tones cut off.

Hello. I glanced at the clean line of the walls, so close in color to the water, and tried to relax.

Hey, Rora.

My name’s Aurora, but everyone calls me Rora.

Hi, Cath.

How was your date last night with James? my best friend asked.

Cathy and I live in Bayforks, Wisconsin. Well, close enough. My aunt and I live a couple of miles out on a craggy outcrop that overlooks the water. Cathy’s a townie.

Even though Bayforks is small, it does a brisk tourist trade during peak seasons. Its claim to fame: the sea caves. Unfortunately, a natural gas inside gives off such a noxious odor, no one explores them. But they’re pretty to look at from the water.

Well? she asked impatiently. I paused. She continued to prattle. He’s soooo cute. I’m jealous.

You had a date with Mike, I reminded her, while I reached out with my other hand to finger the dove-gray drapes. I rubbed my cheek against them. Oh, that feels good. Velvet is such a sensuous material. It feels so decadent.

My voice box rumbled. A noise that sounded like a purr came out of my throat. My fingers tightened over the phone. I pressed my hand over my mouth. What the...?

What did you say, Rora? Cathy asked.

Nothing. I gulped and tried to get my bearings. Tell me about your date with Mike.

Oh, Mike Schmike. Predictable. Dull. Boring. Tell me about your date.

It was strange. My gaze centered on the restless ebb and flow of the waves as they hit against the rocks.

How so?

I should have just let it go. My best friend’s insatiably curious. We’ve shared everything since the first grade, but I wasn’t ready to share this. My date’s aftershave smelled so strong it made my eyes water and my throat burn. But weirdest of all—I had the strangest compulsion to lick it off his neck. Eww.

I’ve felt peculiar ever since yesterday. For one thing, my senses are heightened. I can see  farther and clearer than before, especially in the dark. At least if last night’s anything to go by.

My sense of smell’s unbelievable, though not as good as my eyesight. At the moment, I possess a grace completely alien to me. Not that I’m a klutz mind you, but if there’s a crack in the sidewalk, my size nines will find it.

How so? Cathy repeated.

I didn’t like his aftershave, I said lamely.

Hmm, you never mentioned that when we met him.

I didn’t notice it then. Listen, Cath, I need to go. I really don’t want to talk about this.  My body hurt. I felt odd, like my bones were ready to break through my skin. I think I’m running a fever.

So you aren’t interested?

No. Just thinking of his aftershave made me wrinkle my nose.

Mind if I have a go at him?

Have at him. I gave her his number.

She hung up, no doubt eager to give him a call.

I didn’t tell Cathy everything.

When my date came on to me last night, I hissed at him, bared my teeth, and extended my pink manicured nails like they were claws. How weird is that? I don’t think I’ll have to worry about him calling back.

A movement along the edge of the cliff caught my attention. A small rabbit nibbled at a tuft of clover growing between the rocks. I came to attention like a pointer. My nose quivered, my mouth watered. I twitched my butt.

Without thought, I bolted out of the house after the rabbit. My blood raced. I breathed in short, sharp pants. I could hear the creature’s heart pound and smell his warm vibrant flesh.

He took three frightened leaps and disappeared into the forest. I skidded to a stop, trembling so hard my teeth rattled. What’s wrong with me? I wanted to take a bite out of a poor, defenseless little bunny.  I pursed my lips and screwed up my face. Gross didn’t begin to cover it.  

This is way past PMSing.  Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks.  

I turn eighteen tomorrow. Surely, there’s no connection.

A sharp wind blew off the water. My eyes closed. I stood perfectly still, except for shudders that racked my achy body as fear and revulsion washed over me like the loud pounding waves below.

THE BEAST HAD HIBERNATED for thirteen years. Now it was awake and hungry.

Chapter Two

H appy Birthday, darling , Aunt Ginny trilled.

September twenty-ninth, my eighteenth birthday. My eyelids raised a fraction. I inched up in bed, stretched, and yawned.

Ooh, still way too early. I slumped back against the pillows and closed my eyes. I’d chased rabbits all night. Or dreamt I had.

No, not me. A beautiful black panther chased them. To top it off, the panther’s eyes were the same startling shade of lapis as mine. Whoever heard of a blue-eyed panther?

Or had I been the panther? I shook my head, confused. Typical weird dream stuff.

I still felt feverish and achy. I wondered if I’d caught the flu from my aunt. She’d had a twenty-four hour bug earlier in the week.

Aunt Gin and I’ve been together since my parents were killed thirteen years ago. Her voice broke into my drowsy musings. Come on, wake up, sleepyhead. Her silver-blonde hair tickled my face as she leaned over and set a wooden breakfast tray over my lap.

The rich mouthwatering scents of pancakes, warm maple syrup, fresh brewed coffee, and the sweet spicy aroma of chrysanthemums flooded me. My nose twitched. I smelled something else.

I opened my mouth, the better to catch the scent. Ah, wool.

My aunt reached down and kissed my cheek, the brush of her lips feather light. Careful not to jostle the tray, I pulled myself up and leaned back against my rumpled pillows.

On the breakfast tray sat a violet-patterned china plate loaded with my favorite pecan pancakes, a small matching pitcher of syrup, cups steaming with fragrant fresh coffee, and a crystal vase filled with rust-colored chrysanthemums. Beside the flowers sat a silver gift bag loaded with colorful ribbons and tissue paper that I knew would crinkle in the most delightful manner.

Pleased, I smiled. I bet Aunt Gin had woven me another scarf. My aunt has a loom and makes the most beautiful scarves. She sells them at a little boutique in Bayforks. Odd, though, that I could smell the heavy scent of the wool. Unless it’s wet, wool doesn’t have much of an odor.

Thanks, Aunt, it looks wonderful.

She lifted a mug and sat in the white wooden rocker next to the bed. The chair creaked back and forth. Her wispy skirts billowed when she settled in.

Happy eighteenth, darling. Aunt saluted me with her mug before she took a sip.

I scooped the paper and curled ribbons out of the gift bag and dropped them on the bed where they lay in bright disarray against the crocheted ecru spread. I smiled at my aunt as I reached in and pulled out a soft lavender and gray plaid scarf.

It’s beautiful, Aunt. Thank you. I wrapped it around my neck before I reached over to hug her, refusing to wrinkle my nose at the raw scent of sheep.

You’re welcome, dear. Her smile lit her beautiful face. Aunt Ginny’s pushing forty but her features are unlined and ageless. I imagine twenty years from now she’ll look the same as she does today. A tiny scar on her chin gave her character and kept her from looking too perfect.

Dig in before it gets cold, she urged.

As if in response, my stomach rumbled. We both laughed. I poured thick warm syrup over my pancakes and complied. I took a mouthful, chewed, swallowed, and purred in delight. My eyes flew open. I really did purr.

I stared at my aunt. Had she heard?

Her hand trembled on the coffee cup. Otherwise, she gave no sign of noticing my odd behavior. She leaned forward. Rora, I know you and Cathy plan to go out tonight to celebrate, but I want to be selfish and keep you all to myself. We’ll get a pedicure, go to the Fall Festival in Bayforks, then I’ll take you to dinner this evening at the Inn if that’s alright. You and Cathy can go out tomorrow night.

Of course, Aunt Gin. What could I say? Aunt, is this last minute change in birthday plans because you heard me purr?  No, I didn’t think that would work. Nor would I risk hurting my aunt’s feelings. Actually, I enjoyed spending time with her. I just hoped Cath hadn’t planned a surprise party or something equally ruinous.

Aunt Gin got up and drew back the blinds to let the sun in. Our bedrooms are upstairs. Like the lower level, a glass wall faced Lake Superior.

What a beautiful day, she murmured.

The sun sparkled on the water. A gull flew by. The sound of its clear kuk-kuk-kuk floated on the air. Yes, it is, I agreed.

Aunt Gin walked back, picked up her coffee cup, and headed for the door. Take your time. We’ll go whenever you’re ready.

Okay, I mumbled around a mouthful of pancake.

While I ate, I watched the gulls glide on the wind. Occasionally, one swooped to the water to scoop up a fish. I purred in contentment. My eyes widened and I popped my hand over my mouth, and then shrugged. At least no one’s around to hear.

I finished my pancakes and licked the plate—something I normally don’t do—before I set the tray on the floor. Okay, I’m acting a little weird. But it’s my eighteenth birthday. The only one I’ll ever have. I’m not going to freak out about my strange behavior. I’m going to enjoy my day.

Tossing off my aqua ribbed tee and lounging bottoms, I raced for the shower. Along with steam, the scent of lavender and vanilla filled the room. When I’d used up all the hot water, I turned it off, dried my hair, put on a dusting of makeup, and headed for my walk-in closet.

I tapped my cinnamon-colored nail against my cheek. What to wear. After I tossed a half-dozen tops on the bed, I chose a fitted long-sleeve burgundy tee with a cropped white cami over it and a pair of jeans. I gave one last flick to my hair before I ran downstairs.

Shall we walk the two miles into town? Aunt waited by the door. Over the years, we’ve worn a path through the woods.

Most definitely. I breathed deep, exhaling as we stepped outside.

In moments, we were in the forest. The sun shone bright through the trees. Our path wound alternately in sunshine and then shadow. The temperature was a comfortable sixty-six. Our feet crunched on brown pine needles that filled the air with a crisp tangy scent.

A tiger swallowtail fluttered by my head, soon joined by a black swallowtail. Look, Aunt.

I pointed at them in delight. I love butterflies. They’re so delicate and beautiful.

My aunt smiled and nodded.

Another tiger swallowtail landed on my head. I laughed with pleasure.

A black swallowtail fluttered near me. Then another and another until black and yellow,  blue-tinged bands of color flickered around me.

My arms extended, I revolved in a circle. Pure joy washed over me. Oh, Aunt, have you ever seen anything like this? I didn’t look at her, my gaze on the glistening winged creatures that circled me.

Not in a long time, she said quietly.

When did you last see a swarm of butterflies? My head tipped back and forth as I watched the flurry of color.

When your mother was alive. Remember? Her hands jammed in her jean pockets, she stopped to look at me, her expression intent, as if willing me to remember.

Mom and Dad both died when I was five, killed in a camping accident, the details vague. I’ve always been curious about it, but stopped bringing it up when I saw how painful it was for my aunt to talk about.

Oh, that’s right. I halted beside her. It’s so long ago I thought I’d dreamed it.

No, it was real. When your mom stepped outside, if there was a butterfly within twenty yards, it would find her. She began to walk again. A tiny smile played on her lips, as if she were remembering something pleasant. She glanced at me. You look like her.

Thank you. My heart swelled with pleasure. I reached out to hug her. At the abrupt movement, the butterflies rose higher but continued to circle overhead. So far, it’s been a perfect birthday.

I’m glad. Eighteenth birthdays should be perfect. She hugged me back.

The butterflies followed us to the edge of the forest. When we got within sight of Bayforks, they fluttered away.

We walked into a little shop painted pink on the