A Tiny Bit Mortal by Lindsay Bassett Page A

having no idea where I was going until  I crossed the street and headed toward Peter’s jewelry store.  He asked me not to go there until he contacted me, but I had no where else to turn.
    The outside door was unlocked, and I went into the hall.  Everything was dark, to include the jewelry store.  I pushed on the door to the jewelry store, but it was clearly locked.
    It was cold in the hall, but warmer than outside.  My eyes teared up as I pushed my whole body against the locked door and it wouldn’t budge.  I slumped down in the doorway, defeated.  Wrapping my arms around my knees, I rested my head on my knees and against the door.  I shivered for a while, and fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from the fear.
     
     
     
    “What on earth.” said a voice.
    Lifting my sleepy head from my knees I realized I was leaning against the doorway of the closed jewelry store.  Looking up to see dark hair, sleek like raven’s feathers, I recognized the man from before Thanksgiving at the coffee shop.
    I looked intently, and his face came into focus.  He was looking at me with green eyes, full of confusion.  “How…” he said with his voice trailing off.
    “Where is Peter?” I asked.
    “Peter?” he asked. “How do you know Peter?”
    “Where is Peter?” I repeated. “Please.”
    “Peter went out of town to his Parent’s.” he said. “But how...”
    Rising to my feet I said “I need Peter.  Please.  They are looking for me.”
    He turned and looked down the hall and out at the street through the glass on the front door.  He looked back at me.  His face looked grim.  “The Corrupt?” he asked.
    “I think so.  Yes.” I said.  “They came to my office last night.  I hid.  I almost went home, but I felt like they were there.  I knew they were there.  So I came here.  I didn’t know where else to turn.”
    He stood there quiet for several minutes, without moving.  I waited, patiently, but couldn’t bear it any longer.
    “Please,” I said. “I need to find Peter.”
    He looked me in the eye.
    “Emily...” he said.  He looked like he was about to say something else, but couldn’t form the words with his mouth. 
    I just stood there, meeting his eyes, wondering if he would ever speak.  “How do you know my name?” I asked.
    “I…” he said.
    “You?” I asked.
    “I didn’t know I would ever have the opportunity to speak to you.” he said, finally. “I don’t even know what to say.  I’d never even imagined…”
    “I don’t understand.” I said. 
    “I don’t understand how you got in here.” he said.
    “I walked in.” I said. “Peter said he thought it was because I am more immortal than mortal.”
    He froze, his face harsh. “How much did Peter say to you?” He asked.
    I felt sick.  Peter.  I had thrown him under the bus, without thinking.  He wasn’t supposed to speak with mortals, let alone divulge their secrets.  I was tired.  I was frustrated, at all of it.  My eyes began to tear up.  “Peter has done nothing wrong!” I said.  “He is so good and is doing everything he can to do the right thing.  It’s not his fault I walked in to his life.”
    His face changed from expressionless to shocked.
    “It’s my fault.” I said.  “Blame me, but Peter is blameless.”  I decided the man, or whatever he was, was not going to help me.  I didn’t like his tone about Peter, and I was mad at myself for getting Peter into trouble.  Turning,  I walked away.
    “Where are you going?” he said, firmly.  “You can’t go. It’s not safe.”
    Without saying a word I continued down the hall.  Pushing open the door with my shoulder, I made my way out into the chilly morning air.  I thought about George, all alone in my apartment last night.  He would be very mad at me.
    I heard footsteps behind me, and then at my side as I made my way up the street towards my house.  “Emily.” he said. “Please.”
    I kept walking.  “I don’t know who you