Breathless

Breathless

  Jason and Azazel, Book One

  by V. J. Chambers

  What if the messiah and the anti-christ fell in love?

  Azazel is seventeen and sexually frustrated. Her biggest issue is trying to figure out why her seemingly normal boyfriend won't sleep with her.

  Then Jason races into her life. He won't say where he came from or who's chasing him. He's a delicious puzzle, a boy who has no problem using his fists to solve arguments or quoting Plato to justify his actions. Azazel is drawn to him. She's obsessed with finding out his secrets.

  What she doesn't know is that Jason's secrets are entwined with her own town's secrets. Her friends and family have conspired to use her as a pawn in a violent scheme. Soon, she will have to choose between protecting Jason and staying loyal to everyone she's ever trusted.

  A story about forbidden love, fate, and free will, Breathless is Rosemary's Baby meets The Da Vinci Code.

  BREATHLESS

  © copyright 2009 by V. J. Chambers

  https://vjchambers.com

  Punk Rawk Books

  Please do not copy or post this book in its entirety or in parts anywhere. You may, however, share the entire book with a friend by forwarding the entire file to them. (And I won’t get mad.)

  BREATHLESS

  Jason and Azazel, Book One

  by V. J. Chambers

  Part One

  “Re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem.”

  -Walt Whitman, Preface to Leaves of Grass

  CHAPTER ONE

  To: Hallam Wakefield

  From: Alfred Norwich

  Subject: Re: New England

  Hallam,

  Clearly, Jason has left the region where he was sighted last. You must pursue him south, where our Intel has determined he is heading.

  Keep me in the loop regarding any new developments in this situation.

  Yours in pursuit of the Purpose,

  Alfred

  It was a typical Friday night in Bramford, West Virginia, and I was spending it in a typical way, making out with my boyfriend Toby in his Ford pick-up truck. As usual, I was trying to fondle his crotch. He was pushing my hands out of the way.

  Yes, that’s right. While the situation was typical for Toby and me, we were the reverse of the standard American teenage couple. I wanted us to have sex. Toby wanted to wait so that it could be special.

  Seriously. In all other ways, he appeared to be a normal, red-blooded teenage boy. He played football for Bramford High. He was addicted to video games. He and his friends even went to great lengths to snag cheap beer in order to fuel parties they held when their parents went out of town. Most guys Toby’s age would die to date a girl who wanted to go all the way. Not Toby.

  “Azazel,” Toby sighed, grabbing my wrist and forcing it away from his pants’ zipper. “Not tonight, okay?”

  It was an old argument. I was getting sick of it. Toby and I had been dating since freshman year. We were seniors now, both of us seventeen. Everyone else was doing it. Sometimes, I felt like we were the oldest virgins in our school. No. In the world.

  I sat back in the seat, gazing out of the windshield at the shadowy trees surrounding the truck in the darkness. We were parked somewhere off a dirt road in the middle of the woods. I crossed my arms over my chest. “What’s wrong with me?” I asked the trees, not looking at Toby.

  “Azazel, please,” said Toby.

  I turned on him. “Am I ugly? Aren’t you attracted to me?”

  “You know I think you’re beautiful.”

  “Then what is it?” I asked. Why wouldn’t any teenage guy in his right mind jump at the chance to have sex with his girlfriend?

  “I just want it to happen when it’s... you know, right.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, sulking.

  “And I don’t want it to be in this truck,” he said.

  “Right,” I muttered. “You want music and candles and rose petals and champagne.”

  “Don’t make fun of me,” said Toby. He shook his head and looked out the window, looking pissed.

  Toby was hot. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and his shoulders were huge and muscled, because he lifted a lot of weights. He was a nice guy, too. He volunteered at the animal shelter in town. He was polite to my parents and respectful to authority figures. He made good grades at school. In most respects, he was the perfect boyfriend.

  “When is it going to be right?” I asked. I felt like I was always asking this. I didn’t know why I bothered anymore. I guess I just kept thinking that if I got beyond his zipper, I might be able to get him so turned on that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Not that I really knew how to get a guy turned on. It was supposed to be easy. I was just supposed to be willing, and he was supposed to jump my bones.

  “I don’t know. But we’ll know when it is. Can’t we just kiss?” Toby asked, looking frustrated.

  “I don’t feel like kissing you anymore,” I said.

  “God,” said Toby.

  “It’s just you’re always rejecting me,” I said. “After a while, it tends to wear on a girl’s self-esteem.”

  “Look, you can’t just try to make me have sex with you all the time. I’m the guy. It’s my job to set this stuff up. You’re... you’re just rushing things.”

  I glowered at him. Sometimes, he was just so damned annoying. “I love you, Toby. I know that. And I want to lose my virginity to you. I want to be with you. I want to be as close to you as I can possibly get. And I want it all the time.”

  “I love you too,” said Toby, leaning across the truck to kiss me again.

  His kiss was sweet and soft, and he stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. I let myself get lost in his kisses. Let my hands roam over his back, barely caressing the hard muscle of him. His body was gorgeous. Every time I saw him, I felt a little stirring between my legs, as if something there was waking up. Seeing Toby, being with him, made me feel like I was a slave to this strange desire. I stroked his back, my hands going a little lower to cup the curve of his ass.

  Toby pulled my hand off.

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” I exclaimed.

  “Please,” he said. “Let’s just kiss.”

  “Screw you,” I said, pushing him away. “Are you gay?”

  He glared at me. “You want me to take you home?”

  Ooh. Maybe saying that was hitting below the belt. “What time is it?”

  Toby looked at his watch. “Ten-thirty,” he told me. “We’ve still got a few hours before your curfew.”

  “You wanna go get a milkshake or something?” I asked. The McDonald’s drive-thru was open late. Sometimes kids in town got food and then sat on the picnic tables behind the restaurant. I thought that some of our friends might be there. Somebody might even have beer. Not that I really liked beer. It tasted awful.

  “Well,” said Toby.

  But he never finished, because we both suddenly heard a thrashing sound, as if something were running through the woods.

  Our heads both snapped towards the sound.

  “Probably a deer,” I said, craning my neck to see.

  Toby turned the key in the ignition. Flipped on his headlights.

  But instead of a deer, what we saw was a boy—a man—a guy—racing into the clearing we were parked in. He ran like something was chasing him. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. His clothes were dirty and torn.

  “Jesus Christ,” I said, flinging open the door to the truck.

  “Azazel, wait,” said Toby.

  But I was already out of the truck, hurrying to intercept the stranger. I rushed to him, throwing my arms out to stop him.


  He couldn’t stop in time. He collided with me.

  Up close, I could smell him. He smelled like sweat and earth and fear. His eyes were deep and dark. His breath came in gasps.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  The guy shot a glance over his shoulder, still breathing hard. “Get me out of here,” he said.

  I grabbed his hand. Pulled him towards the truck.

  Toby had gotten out too and was making his way towards us.

  “Toby, let’s go,” I said, pushing the boy into the truck ahead of me and squeezing in beside him. I slammed the door shut.

  Toby got back in the car too. He looked at me and at the guy, his eyes full of questions.

  The guy’s eyes never left the woods, as if he expected someone or something to burst out at any second. “Go,” said the guy. “Drive! Just drive.”

  Toby put the car in reverse. His tires squealed as he pulled out and back onto the road.