Turbulence by Elaina John Page B

die.
    “Relax,” he said, putting the gun down to his side. “I’m a
sentry.”
    She felt the little tickle in her brain that alerted her to
other Jhetans. She was around her people all the time now so it was difficult
to notice it anymore. He also wore the intersecting double arrows crest on his
dark jacket—the symbol of the sentries.
    Avalon drew in a shaky breath, putting her hand over her
rapidly beating heart. “I’m sorry. I thought you were about to kill me.”
    “Nope. I’m protection. No one gets in here. You’re safe.
Where are you going? It’s pretty late.” His eyes glided down to take in what
she was wearing. A faint smile graced his lips. “You don’t look dressed to be
out of the house.”
    She was still too shaken up to be self-conscious about her
attire. “I’m going to the main house. I’m needed there.” When his brows pinched
together, she added, “I’m the housekeeper.”
    “Oh. Okay. It’s a little late for you to be working, don’t
you think? In any case, I’ll walk you there.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    He nodded and ushered her along. “I’m Ross. Guess I should
have told you my name before I started escorting you. I haven’t seen you
around. What’s your name?”
    “Avalon. I tend to keep to myself. You probably know my
grandmother. Veeva.”
    He chuckled. “Oh yeah. I know Veeva. Heard she tried to
spike the punch not too long ago.”
    Thinking about it still gave her headaches. “That she did.
She threw a tantrum when I stopped her. Were you at the dinner?”
    “No. I don’t get a chance to go to them. I have to patrol
during that time.”
    “All the time?”
    Ross nodded in the darkness. She couldn’t really make out
his features, but he had a nice, calm voice. “Greyson tells me to work, so I
work. You can’t really say no to him.”
    Avalon supposed you really couldn’t since she was outside of
her cabin in the middle of the night to tell him a bedtime story to put him to
sleep. Nevertheless, it wasn’t fair that Ross never got the opportunity to
attend the community dinners. From what she saw and heard, everyone looked
forward to those once a week gatherings. Except her. Greyson had graciously
informed her that she didn’t have to attend them again if she didn’t want to.
    “Here we are.”
    Avalon looked up. The farmhouse loomed before her. A dark,
imposing structure. However, she suspected if she went around to the back that
there would be a room with light streaming out of it. Greyson’s room.
    “Thank you for escorting me.”
    Ross bowed, gallant and dramatic. “Anything for a precious
lady. If you need an escort back to your cabin, dial star three on a phone in
the house. If I’m not available, someone else will come for you.”
    “Okay. Thanks again.” She waved. He walked off.
    Avalon let herself into the house. Before going up to
Greyson’s room she made him a cup of chamomile tea. It should help him fall
asleep by calming him.
    When she got upstairs, the door to his room was open,
spilling light from inside. Greyson was sitting on the edge of the bed in a
black t-shirt and a pair of black pajama bottoms. His head was in his hands
like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Empty beer cans littered the
floor. From the first day she began working in the house she suspected he had a
close relationship with alcohol. It worried her.
    Avalon knocked gently on the door. He lifted his head. His
eyes were red rimmed and watery, but he wasn’t crying. He looked tired, not
just physically but emotionally as well.
    “It took you long enough,” he said. “Come in and close the
door.”
    If she wasn’t getting so used to his rudeness, she might
have been offended. She came into the room and held out the cup of hot tea. “I
made you chamomile tea. It’s supposed to soothe you.”
    He took the mug from her and stared at her in that odd way
of his—like she was some puzzle that he needed to solve. “Thank you.” Greyson
blew into the cup