Shimmerspell
The Shimmer Trilogy, #1
by Kimberly Spencer
Copyright © 2011 Kimberly Spencer
Smashwords Edition
http://ibreathefiction.blogspot.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author.
Cover Art by Claudia McKinney
Chapter One
“Ok, who can tell me the additive inverse of twenty-seven?”
Crickets chirped.
Mr. Tanner lifted his deep brown eyes from the textbook, staring over the rim of his glasses and out into the classroom as he scanned each row for a victim. Soon those shrewd eyes would fall on Jensen and then he’d pounce. He always did.
She held her head up, trying to exude confidence. But somehow he knew she hadn’t studied over the break, knew she didn’t know the answer. And that knowledge gave him a power he wielded mercilessly. “Well,” he grabbed a broken piece of chalk from the blackboard and walked around his cluttered desk, sitting on the edge, “since no one wants to volunteer, Ms. Mead—”
The bell sounded and Jensen released the breath she’d been holding. It was a close call too. If Tanner had put her on the spot one more time, she planned to walk out. Her sister Lauren would have been mad about it, but Jensen just couldn’t find it in her to care.
“Homework for tomorrow is on page sixty-five. Odd numbers. And class, don’t forget to show your work this time. I’d hate to have to give out anymore goose eggs.”
Jensen dropped her books inside her khaki messenger bag, and slid out the door in front of two football players in a shoving match. If she’d stayed about a minute longer, Tanner would have cornered her and that just couldn’t happen. He’d never yelled at her or anything like that. And had always been nice, in an overly concerned, yet non-pervy way. But, for reasons unknown to her, Tanner always knew when she lied. And that was just … weird.
Jensen navigated through end-of-school traffic, finding her best friend Zoe waiting at her locker, fresh off a field trip to the Rolling Hills Science Center.
Zoe glanced up from her cell phone and smiled. “Ooh cute,” she said, twirling her finger through the violet streaks in Jensen’s bangs. Violet streaks that weren’t supposed to be violet.
Jensen rolled her eyes. “Yeah right.”
“No, it really is.”
“Zoe, it’s supposed to be pink.”
“Your hair is too dark for that and I think it’s cute this way.” She crossed her legs and leaned against the locker beside Jensen’s. “So, did you get it?”
Jensen swirled the dial on her padlock, avoiding Zoe’s gaze. “Get what?”
“Come on, you know.”
Of course Jensen knew. Most thirteen-year-olds had it by now and she’d just turned sixteen. Without it. She sighed and shook her head, wondering why she’d ever told the girl in the first place.
Zoe’s eyes widened. “Really? I was sure you would’ve gotten it over Spring Break. Well, look at it this way, at least you don’t have to deal with cramps yet or bloating. Or worry about ruining your brand new Vicki Secrets. Or have some Neanderthal steal your tampon and toss it around the classroom like a football.” Her eyes darkened and she glanced away. “That’s not very fun.”
And apparently not something you could live down either. Even the teachers had taken to calling her Scarlett Rose now. And the name actually fit. Her eyes were green, just a shade darker than Jensen’s, and her hair, the color of … well, a rose.
Jensen put her pen in her mouth, opened her locker, and grabbed her sketchpad, sliding it into her messenger bag. “So you and Benji still on?” She needed to change the subject. Fast.
Zoe scowled. “Hell no! Can you believe the idiot forgot our anniversary? I mean, who does that?”
“Haven’t you only been dating for two months?”
Zoe cocked her head to the side, staring up at Jensen like she had just flown in from another planet. “Yeah, but you’re supposed to celebrate it every month until you’ve been together a full year.”
Jensen raised her eyebrows, but said nothing else to incur Zoe’s wrath. Once she got started on the Zoe and Benji show, there would be no timeouts or take-backs.
“Anyway, Mackenzie’s party.” Zoe angled the locker door and touched up her lip gloss in the mirror. “Are we a go?”
Jensen scratched her elbow, still chewing on the pen. Mackenzie, Jensen’s lab partner, had invited them to a party at her beach house on Saturday, a party she’d never be able to attend. “Can’t. Lauren wants to check out this art gallery in Tampa. And at some point, I’m supposed to practice driving on the interstate.” The truth. Just not this weekend.
“Look, she has that pen in her mouth again,” a raspy voice said. “I wonder what else she likes to put in there.” Shrill giggles followed and someone slammed a locker door.
Jensen ground her teeth against the blue pen top, not needing to see the face that voice belonged to. The sugary sweet stench pouring off the girl said enough. Shelby. Zoe’s twin.
She walked up beside Jensen, holding a bubblegum-pink scrapbook against her chest. “Zo, can we please go?” she asked, though it sounded more like a demand. “Some of us have things to do.”
“I’ll be right there,” Zoe said, still staring in the mirror.
Shelby sauntered off, having accomplished her bitchy deed for the day. And one finger at a time, Jensen relaxed her fist. “I don’t know what her problem is.”
“In a word. You.”
Jensen slid her pen into her messenger bag and started twisting her emerald ring around and around on her middle finger. “Zo, I’ve never done anything to her and you know it.”
Zoe raised her eyebrows, sliding her lip gloss into her pocket. “Yeah you have.”
“Ok, so tell me what I did then?”
“Well let’s see.” She tapped her chin, flicking her gaze upward. “You transferred here.” That’s all she would ever say, which both frustrated Jensen and endeared her to the girl at the same time. She had to hand it to her. No matter who did what, Zoe never played sides.
“Well, that was insightful.”
Zoe laughed. “I do what I can.”
“But seriously, don’t be mad when I start fighting back.” And she did mean fight, because so far in the game of social warfare, Shelby held down the lead with a whopping three to Jensen’s zero. And that just wouldn’t do.
Zoe smiled, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “I won’t.” It was just that easy for her.
Jensen snapped the padlock back into place. “Well, you better go before the little witch has a hissy fit.”
“Ok, text me later and be careful driving. I think it’s supposed to storm all weekend.”
“You worry way too much.” The understatement of the year. The girl kept a gas mask and anti-radiation pills in her car. Just in case.
“I’m serious. Driving in bad weather is dangerous.”
“Zoe, just waking up in the morning is dangerous. And so is going to the bathroom. I mean, do you have any idea how many people never even make it out of bed? Or the ones who sit on the toilet and never get off?”
“No, and neither do you,” she countered, walking backward toward the exit.
Jensen squinted her eyes and nodded. “Touché my friend. Touché.”
Barking a laugh, Zoe backed into a boy wearing jeans so tight you could see the imprint of his balls. “Bye,” she giggled, then out the door she went.
Jensen cut through the lunchroom exit, then walked around the side of the building to the back of the school by the auto mechanics center. Guided by the smoker’s cough of the dusty blue Mazda-3, she strolled right up to the spot Lauren had chosen to occupy.
A quick glance at the backseat had her frowning at her sister’s continual disregard for her privacy. But it made no sense arguing over the Ipad. Lauren would only point out that she bought it, so it technically belonged to her.
Biting the side of her lip, Jensen yanked the door open and climbed inside.
Lauren stared in her pink studded compact, slathering on a bright red lipstick, not that she even needed it. With natural carmine tinted lips, Jensen could swear Lauren had been orally assaulted by a strawberry in a past life. “Hey Button; how was your day?”
Button—as in, cute as a button. Jensen hated the nickname. She shrugged and reopened her door, pulling her seatbelt inside. “Long. Boring. How about yours?”
She smiled and tilted her head to the side causing soft blonde curls to cascade across her shoulder. “More or less the same.”
Jensen reached into her pocket for her cherry Carmex and immediately noticed the loss. “Shit. I left my cell phone.”
“Language Jensen.”
“For Pete’s sake Lauren, it’s just a word.” And one of the tamer ones at that.
“And I’ve already told you; words have power.”
Jensen rolled her eyes and shoved her door open. “Yeah, because saying the wrong one might just make me crap in my pants.” Then she hopped out of the car and ran back toward the school before Lauren could respond.
Would she pay for it later? Yep. But it still felt good to push Lauren’s buttons. Sometimes she seemed to forget they were sisters. Not mother and daughter. And besides, the last time Jensen checked, con-artists didn’t make the best parental figures anyway.
Jensen found her cell phone right where she thought it would be. Tucked inside her pencil case, where she’d hidden it during a history quiz. With a smile, she closed her locker and snapped the padlock back into place.
But that smile melted away when she noticed a tall golden-haired boy staring at her questioningly. At first, she thought she imagined it, but his cerulean eyes continued to bore into her, unwavering in their intensity. Weird, especially when she’d never seen the boy before.
Refusing to be intimidated, she narrowed her eyes and returned an equally intense stare until she passed him. Surely, that’ll get him to back off, she thought.
But no, the boy turned around, resuming his visual bombardment, the force of it burning a hole in the back of her head and making it difficult not to squirm.
Not wanting to turn into salt, she stared straight ahead, focusing on planting one foot in front of the other, while praying it didn’t look like she had a stick shoved up her ass.
What the hell have I ever done to him? she wondered. Then a locker door slammed behind her and she decided she never wanted to find out.
Chapter Two
“Please tell me you’re free tonight,” Zoe said, leaning against the locker beside Jensen’s.
Surprisingly, they had both made it to school early, running into Zoe’s boyfriend Benji soon after. Jensen shoved some books into her locker, grabbed a water bottle, and pulled the cap off. “I don’t know yet. Why?”
“Three words. Horror movie fest at the Luxe Theater,” Benji answered, excitement blooming across his face. Sadly, that face was riddled with acne.
“That’s like seven words, you idiot.” Zoe shook her head and took a bite out of her Hello Kitty cake pop. “I’m sure it’s gonna be lame. All ketchup blood and fake sausage guts. You should come.”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Benji added.
Zoe smacked his chest. “Fun to watch Benny here scream like a little girl. That’s always fun to me.”
Benji hunched his shoulders and laid his hand over hers. “How deeply you wound me.” Then before she could stop him, he grabbed her other arm and bit into her cake pop, leaving only a tiny piece behind.
Zoe’s eyes darkened. “Do you want me to kill you, Benjamin Stevens?”
He winced. “Sorry. It was an accident.”
“So you’re saying you accidentally ate my cake?” Her voice had gotten higher, squeakier.
He pouted and nodded. “I originally just intended to lick it.”
Jensen giggled and Zoe scowled, pinching her arm. “Don’t encourage him.”
The bell rang, signaling the start of first period and bringing an end to another funny episode of Zoe and Benji.
Jensen pulled the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder. “Well, I guess I’ll see ya’ll at lunch.”
“Why of course, Jenny from the Block.” Zoe wrapped her arm around Benji’s, dragging him around the corner. “Come along, Benjamin. We wouldn’t wanna piss off dragon breath again. And when lunch starts, you’re buying me a slushie to make up for being such a jerk-off.”
“Whatever you say, ma love.”
Thinking it best not to fall on her face today, Jensen crouched, tying her shoe. And that’s when she felt it. That strange feeling you get when you know without looking that someone, somewhere is watching you. Mouth wide open. Heavy breathing. Hand down pants. She had the creeps.
“Already friends with the wrong people I see.” The golden-haired boy leaned against the trophy case, his eyes fixed on her with the same ferocity from days before.
She straightened, raising her chin. “Funny, I don’t recall trying to be friends with you.”
He smiled then, though the severity of his gaze did not lessen. “You should stay away from them.”
“Really? I’m thinking I should stay away from you,” she replied, refusing to be bullied by anyone.
He shrugged. “You might be right. Question, who picked you up Friday?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “My cousin, not that that’s any of your business.” And because it’s not your business, I have no reason to tell the truth.
Blue eyes churning, the boy stepped forward, closing the distance between them and blocking her path.
Jensen didn’t know how it happened, couldn’t recall who challenged whom. But one second they were talking and the next, somehow locked in the ultimate battle of wills. A staring contest. And lamely, she blinked first. “I should get to class.”
“You should.”
Seconds passed before she found the courage to move, to turn her back on the strange boy, hoping he wouldn’t stab her in it with a pencil.
She brushed past him, stepping once, twice before glancing back to find him already gone. As if his cerulean gaze had never existed. As if the heat of his body hadn’t scorched her skin. And as if his nearness hadn’t totally freaked her out.
***
“I don’t know how I feel about this, Jensen,” Lauren said, her voice tense. “Just let me think about it, ok?”
Jensen sat in the grass, her head leaning against the trunk of a tall oak, her usual spot for lunch. She had called Lauren as soon as lunch period began, eager to fill her in about the movie fest. Now, that eagerness tripped, fell, and landed in a puddle known as regret as she held the phone to her ear, shocked that Lauren was on the verge of telling her she couldn’t go. “What’s there to think about? It’s just a movie with some friends. Maybe some food.”
“Since when do you care about hanging out anyway?”
“Since I was invited. Look, I just wanna see what it’s like to go to the movies for once, with someone other than my sister.”
Lauren paused for a moment, sighing. “I’ve been thinking it might be best for us to move on soon.”
Jensen stiffened. She knew it would happen eventually. With Lauren being a con-artist, they never stayed in the same place for too long or used the same name twice. But knowing that still didn’t lesson the blow, because this time, she had something she’d never had before. Zoe. “Exactly how soon is soon?”
Lauren hesitated. “I’m thinking we should start packing now.”
Jensen slammed her fist down beside her, squashing an innocent donut she had yet to even taste. “Lauren, I never ask you to go anywhere. I’m going to this movie. We can pack tomorrow.” She was whining now and a lump had formed in her throat, which only pissed her off more.
“Do you really think it’s wise to get attached to these people? We cannot stay here forever.”
“I don’t care. I’m going to the movies with a couple of friends like a normal freaking teenager.” She grabbed a napkin rubbing the strawberry jelly away harsher than she’d intended. “You know, you’re not my mother, so you can stop trying to act like you are!”
“That may be the case,” Lauren replied, her voice strained now, “but I am an adult and you are a child. What I say goes. Now, if you insist on going to the movies, I won’t stop you. But I think it would be best if we leave when you get home.”
Jensen laughed, but the sound held no trace of humor. “Home? Yeah right.”
“What was that?”
Jensen blew out an angry breath. “Nothing. Leaving then is fine with me.”
“Ok Button, I love you. And I’ll see you when—”
Jensen pressed the end button and dropped the phone into her bag.
“Hey, mind if I sit down?” Zoe asked, her head tilted and her eyebrows arched in question.
Jensen moved her bag to the other side of her leg, not surprised she hadn’t noticed Zoe’s approach. “Be my guest.”
“Everything ok?” Zoe asked, her voice soft and hesitant.
Jensen cleared her throat. “Yeah and it’ll be even better if you tell me what I did to Shelby.” Way to go Jensen. Project onto someone else.
Zoe frowned, placing her sack lunch on her lap. “Come on Jen. I already told you.”
“And now you can tell me the real reason. What have I ever done to her?”
A sigh escaped Zoe’s lips. “You transferred here.”
“But I’m not the only new student, so it’s gotta be more to it than that.”
She nodded, removing the soggy tomatoes from her mayo drenched sandwich. “True, but you are the only one Liam seems to notice.”
Jensen passed her a napkin. “Who?”
Zoe laughed. “Wow, that just makes it so much worse.”
“Makes what worse?”
Zoe tilted her head to the side, staring at Jensen as if she’d committed a grave sin. “You haven’t even noticed him, have you?”
“Noticed who?” Jensen asked, hoping the second time was indeed a charm.
“Liam Casey. Her ex-boyfriend and the hottest guy … well, second hottest guy in the junior class. They dated for like six months, then you showed up and the rest is Lakeside history.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
Zoe shrugged. “You didn’t ask the right questions.”
“Describe him.”
“Were you not listening? He’s hot. Zac Efron hot, except, somehow managing to smolder a twee bit more.”
“I need specs.”
“Well let’s see; he’s maybe 6’2. Blonde. Blue eyes. A junior. And he’s always staring at you like he can’t decide if he wants to kiss you or kill you.”
Jensen nodded. “Oh.”
Zoe gave her a knowing look. “Ah, so you do know who he is Ms. Meadows?”
“Kind of. You had me at kill.” Jensen sipped from her water bottle. “Shouldn’t she take that up with him though?”
“Why, when she can just torture you about it? And besides, they broke up. You kind of lose the right to bitch someone out when you’re no longer slapping groins.”
Jensen coughed, choking on her water. “Language, Zoe.”
“What? It’s true.”
“Maybe, but it all seems kind of petty to me.”
Zoe nodded. “As is the way of the high school years, which brings about my next question: What equally petty thing are you gonna do about it?”
“What makes you think I’m gonna do anything?”
Zoe held up her finger until she’d swallowed the bite she took from the sandwich. “Because I can see the wheels turning in that great big head of yours.”
Jensen laughed. No one could ever say that Zoe wasn’t perceptive. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?” Benji asked, managing to startle them both. He dropped down beside Zoe, cherry slushie in hand.
“Well Benjamin Stevens,” she said, snatching it away, “Ms. Meadows is trying to decide how to get back at Shelby. My vote is for hooking up with Liam.”
Jensen gasped. “Zoe!”
“What?” Zoe giggled, laying her head on Benji’s shoulder. “You just might like it.”
Chapter Three
The plan was set. Nervous excitement thrummed through Jensen’s body, causing her bones to dance around in her skin, and making the act of staying seated almost impossible. She’d made up her mind to do the one thing Zoe probably wouldn’t approve of: Steal the stupid pink scrapbook Shelby always lugged around. According to Benji, it was really a slam-book. And since she was dumb enough to bring something like that to school, Jensen was bold enough to use it to her advantage.
She glanced at the clock above Mr. Kelley, the history teacher’s head. Twenty minutes left before class ended. Unable to concentrate, Mr. Kelley’s take on the event that triggered World War I barely registered in her mind. Not that paying attention to his monotone account even mattered. She wouldn’t be around to stumble through the test questions anyway.
“Does anyone have any questions?” Mr. Kelley asked, placing a new lecture sheet on the overhead projector.
Perfect timing. Jensen’s hand flew up.
Mr. Kelley’s dove-gray eyes widened and a smile stretched across his face. “Ok Ms. Meadows, ask away.”
“Can I use the restroom?”
His smile flattened into a tight line. Motions clipped, he grabbed the tiny wooden hall pass from the podium and held it out to her.
Not meeting his gaze, Jensen took it from his hand and trotted outside.
***
Jensen pressed her back against the hunter green lockers and peeked around the corner. Her eyes met only closed doors, all except for the last classroom near the fire extinguisher. A choral rendition of “The Dog Days Are Over” filled the air, letting her know the glee club was practicing there. And since they were taking it from the top, she doubted anyone would be leaving the room anytime soon.
She eased forward, snagging her navy tank on the ragged hinge of a locker, ripping a tiny hole at the seam near her waist. She bunched the soft fabric in one hand, tore the thread away with the other, and allowed the tangled string to drift down to the cream and gray speckled tile.
After smoothing the tank back down, she tugged at the hem to inspect the damage. Tan skin peeked through the now thumb-size hole. “Great, just great.” She took a deep breath and released the air in a huff, deciding to focus on getting Shelby’s scrapbook.
Jensen strolled up to the locker and grabbed the single-dial padlock as if it were her own. She had never picked one before, but it couldn’t be that difficult.
She pulled the hairpin from her bangs and tucked the overgrown black and violet strands behind her ear.
After shaping the pin into an L, she swirled the dial of the lock clockwise twice and shoved the flat side of the hairpin into the tiny hole, sliding the pin around.
She tugged on the clasp. Still locked. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she grew more frustrated with each passing second. What could I be doing wrong? she wondered.
There was no way she’d be able to stay in the hall much longer. Someone would come out eventually, then the dog days would truly be over.
She closed her eyes and laid her head against the locker, allowing the coolness of the metal to seep into her skin. She imagined her revenge. The black hairpin becoming a skinny bronze skeleton key, the four leaf clover bow cool between her fingers as she slid it into the newly formed keyhole.
A flame sparked in the pit of her stomach, the prickling heat spreading throughout her limbs.
She twisted the key.
Clink. Barely audible, but nonetheless, a clink. Her eyes flew open at the sound, her shock dragging her back to reality and causing the hairpin to slip from her fingers. The clasp had popped free, spinning away from the lock.
“Call me Ms. Lucky,” she mumbled, reaching for the hairpin. As soon as her skin touched the metal, she yanked her finger back, shoving it into her mouth. The metal was hot.
Jensen thought it was weird, but pushed those thoughts away and opened the locker.
A wave of dizziness crashed down on her and she found herself leaning into the sickly sweet source of her sour stomach. Her head throbbed like each lobe of her brain had entered a fist pumping contest.
She reared back and slammed the locker shut, backing away with her hand braced against the wall of metal for balance. She blinked and everything became more pronounced—the green of the lockers extra bright, the classroom doors an almost blinking white, like the world had suddenly gone HD and her eyes couldn’t catch up.
Something was wrong with her, but she couldn’t ponder that something for too long. Because the sound of feet shuffling somewhere nearby had her heart back-flipping in her chest. Unnerved, she turned to run, or more honestly, hobble to class, and slammed into a brick wall.
Liam. Except—not. The boy in front of her had pale pearlescent skin that shimmered underneath the overhead lights, his eyes no longer the cerulean she had come to adore, but a deeper, more vibrant blue that reminded her of giant sapphires. Tension lines bracketed his mouth, and his gaze darted up and down the hall as if he expected someone to show up.
Jensen found her eyes riveted to his face. She tried to count the number of hairs that made up his golden stubble, looking for something, anything to avoid dealing with the two things that had caused her breaths to come way too fast, and her palms to feel like she had dipped them in the ocean.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, voice just as strained as the cords bunching in his neck.
She shut her eyes. They weren’t working anyway. But the darkness that followed only made her pulse speed up more, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. When she peeled her lids apart, she knew her sight wasn’t the problem because they were still there, still peeking over his shoulders at her. Still fluttering. Wings. Liam had wings.
He cocked his head to the side. “Did you hear me?”
Her brain felt like mashed potatoes and her thoughts reflected the mush. “Sorry, what?”
“I asked what you’re doing out here?”
Hallucinating. “I had to get something from my locker.”
He looked behind her and frowned. “That’s not your locker.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I know. It’s wrong to steal, Jensen.”
It’s also wrong to be a vapid soul stealing whore, but nobody’s chastising Shelby about that, are they? “That’s not an answer.”
“But it’s the only answer you’re getting. Why do you care anyway?”
Jensen crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, hoping the movements made her the picture of nonchalance. “I don’t.”
He laughed, but the sound lacked in the humor department.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Everything and nothing.”
“Well good luck figuring it out.”
“I doubt that’ll happen with you around.”
Jensen’s eyebrows shot up. She never said she wanted to be around anyway. “And why is that?”
“Because looking at you is like falling into a black hole—stupid, confusing, and probably detrimental to my existence.”
“Well, why don’t you just hit the ground and fly?” Her eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth, tapping the stupid lips that had allowed the word to escape. “I mean, die already,” she finished.
Liam’s gaze widened and he closed the distance between them, his minty breath warm against her face.
Caught off guard, she stumbled backwards, slamming into the locker behind her.
Liam’s hand pressed into her stomach, holding her in place while he gazed into her eyes, as if looking for answers to questions he hadn’t voiced. Then suddenly, his hand dropped away, fisting at his sides. He closed his eyes and shook his head like he was trying to knock his thoughts through his ears. “Stupid,” he muttered, the sound soft, but the meaning all the same.
“Oh, so now I’m stupid?”
He opened his eyes and reached up, bracing one hand on the locker beside her head, then offered her the most famous break up line of all time. “Not you. Me.”
Something about his expression had changed. He smiled, just a sad twitch of his lips, but it almost seemed like he’d resigned himself to accept some miserable fate. He cupped her chin and leaned forward, his nose nearly touching hers.
Her breath hitched in her throat and she knew she wanted it. She would’ve given in, would’ve leaned into his lips—did in fact lean forward, but the sight of his right wing twitching above his shoulder had her hand flying to his mouth, and her body flattening against the locker behind her. “I need to get to class.”
Without waiting for him to respond, she dipped below his outstretched arm and ran away, not looking back even once for fear his wing might twitch again.
Chapter Four
Jensen stepped in front of the Abstinence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder poster taped to the lunchroom door and goose bumps pebbled her arms. This part of the school was colder than usual.
With the smell of Pine-sol strong in her nose, she wasn’t surprised by the grimy yellow “Watch your step” sign in the middle of the floor. Doing as it commanded, she eased by it, but stiffened at the sound of hushed voices. Not because students huddled together sharing secrets in high school hallways was abnormal, but because of the odd tone of this particular whispery exchange.
Shoulder to the wall, she peeked around the dusty trophy case and saw a boy with white blonde curls talking with a slim blonde girl, whose face she could not see. Large iridescent wings fluttered on the boy’s back and his skin had the same pearlescent sheen as Liam’s. “What the hell are they doing here?” he growled, the area between his eyes pinched tight.
“I don’t know,” the girl replied. She shook her head, and soft spirals of golden hair cascaded down her shoulders. “Where the hell is Liam?”
“Seeing to Principal Rutland.”
The girl grasped his arm, her other hand stroking his cheek. “We can’t continue waiting love. We should go ahead and dispose of the body before any of the students see.”
Jensen’s hand shot to her mouth. They killed somebody. Maybe even Rutland. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, rattling her teeth. Could they hear it?
Holding her breath, she backed away running her trembling palm across the wall for balance. She slid into the lunchroom and eased the door shut, backing away from it with her hand clutching her chest. She had to do something, but what? Get the hell away from there, that’s what. She reached into her messenger bag and pulled out her cell phone.
“Shouldn’t you be in class?” a deep voice asked.
Terrified, Jensen spun around with her fists up, finding the janitor staring at her wide-eyed, his fingers rubbing against the opening of a new trash bag.
Without responding, she ran past him, shoving open the exit to the outdoor lunch quad.
Scrolling past the fast food restaurants she had added on her first day there, she found Lauren’s number and pressed send.
Lauren answered on the second ring. “Hello.”
“Some students killed Rutland,” Jensen blurted out. “They’re trying to get rid of the body and maybe I’m hallucinating or something, but they have these wing-things on their backs.”
“What did you do?”
“I haven’t done anything. Are you not listening? These three kids killed Principal Rutland.”
“My God Jensen,” Lauren said, her voice quavering, saying nothing else.
“I just told you someone killed the principal and all you have to say is “God Jensen.” Aren’t you gonna tell me where to meet you?”
Crickets chirped.
“Lauren?”
“No.”
Jensen stopped dead in her tracks, the ball of her foot still raised on the ground while the word bounced around in her skull. “No? What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not coming. I’m sorry. I can’t deal with this anymore.”
“Can’t deal with what? Look, I know we argued earlier, but—”
“There’s some money in the bank. Go to the ATM and clean it out. Find somewhere else to stay for the night and don’t go back to that school.”
Jensen twirled her ring around her finger. “I don’t understand. I’ll walk home so we can—”
“Don’t! I don’t want you here anymore.”
Jensen shook her head, her eyes burning. “But I didn’t do anything,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Stop whining! I can’t take it.”
“Why are you being like this?”
Silence. A silence that made everything else seem obnoxious. The bright green cicadas screaming their stupid little heads off. The horns of passing cars sounding like bullhorns during football season. Everyone else was noisily going on with their mundane lives, while hers quietly shattered on the dull gray pavement.
She dropped down at a lunch table to ride out the newest wave of dizziness. “Lauren, I know you’re there. I can hear you breathing,” she said, laying her head on the wooden table-top.
“I hope you can forgive me one day, Button. Seek the order of the high wizard if need be and whatever you do, don’t take off your ring.” Then she hung up.
***
Jensen couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, or see past the bold black words replaying in her mind.
“I don’t want you here anymore.” That’s what Lauren said.
She clutched her ring to her hollow chest, rubbing her thumb back and forth across the green gemstone. Her own sister didn’t want to be around her. Burgundy lines on her cheek would’ve been better than that verbal slap in the face.
She dialed Lauren again, but hung up before it rang, sliding the phone back into her bag. Face to face would be better. Lauren might be mad, but she would never say those things to her face. Never.
Jensen found her feet beating against the pavement, then cutting through manicured lawns with hideous garden gnomes and small painted boulders.
A soft yellow light spilled from the crack in the doorway of the apartment they were renting. Yellows and grays painted the sky and a light drizzle filled the air with a fine gray mist of dreariness. Jensen hated days like this, when the sun’s lazy ass wouldn’t even try to pierce the cold grip of sadness shadowing the world.
Jensen grabbed the knob to push open the door, but a clammy white hand slid through the crack first, shackling her wrist. One that did not belong to Lauren. The scream welling up died in her throat when a very undead face wedged into the crack.
“There you are Ms. Meadows,” Rutland said. “Your sister has been worried sick about you.”
“Principal Rutland, I—”
“You just come along with me little missy,” he said, attempting to drag her through the doorway.
Jensen looked at him then. Glazed eyes bulged out of a sallow face and ice cold hands sent painful chills through Jensen’s body, causing goose bumps to sprout all over her arm. He still wore the gray pinstriped suit from earlier, except soot now covered the material. A lot of it. And he smelled bad. Like rotten eggs drenched in apple cider vinegar. “Principal Rutland, you’re hurting me,” she said, trying to pull herself free of his death grip.
Rutland’s thick fingers bit into her arm and his face contorted in rage. “No sirree, I won’t let this one get away.”
Hitting him with her free arm, she braced her leg on the side of the door. “Let me go!”
He continued pulling, so hard that she screamed in pain. But that sound soon turned into a gasp of horror when a lance of light, no, a knife slammed into his chest. Right into his heart. Rutland released her wrist, falling backwards into the doorway, his glazed eyes still open, though life had already faded from them.
Clothes ruffled behind her and then suddenly, Liam appeared at her side, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Are you hurt?”
Jensen stared up at him, unsure if she should scream again or bury herself in his arms. His words finally registering, she shook her head no.
Liam’s eyes swept her body, stopping on a scarlet bruise staining her wrist.
Jensen opened her mouth to speak, but a piercing scream silenced her, almost sending her to her knees.
A tall raven-haired girl stepped into view, a convincing Snow White, if not for the charcoal smudges all over her flimsy dress.
Jensen blinked away the girl’s angelic appearance, the cold, flat eyes letting her know this chick was no nun. Instead of stepping over Rutland, the girl used his head as leverage, walking right across his body.
“Stay back Keira,” Liam said, his voice colder than the corpse on the ground.
“And if I don’t?” she asked in a creepy voice that made everything sound like a nursery rhyme. Before Liam could respond, she lunged forward, a blur of black and white whirling past them. She grabbed Jensen from behind, her ice cold fingers wrapping around Jensen’s throat. “Looks like I win.”
Liam’s eyes became mere slashes in his face. “Release her now and your fall will be quick.”
Keira’s fingers tightened, almost touching her thumb. “I do not barter with children.”
Jensen opened her mouth, but no air filled her lungs. Fireworks burst behind her lids and time seemed to slow to an excruciating crawl. Death—turtle slow and far more unpleasant than she had ever imagined.
Chapter Five
Jensen came up swinging as she was jostled awake by warm, calloused hands. Those same hands slid down her arms, pinning her wrists to her sides and forcing her to forego her attempts at slaying her captor. She cracked her lids, expecting to find herself a prisoner in a forest of pitted concrete and cold iron bars. But warm sapphire eyes stared down at her, filled to the brim with worry.
Liam furrowed his brow and released her wrists, brushing back the black strands in her eyes. “You’re safe.”
Jensen’s hand flew to her throat. “Where am I?” she croaked, feeling like she’d swallowed barbed wire.
“My home. Do you remember what happened?”
Images filled her mind. Dead fingers squeezing her throat. Glazed eyes peering at her while a crimson tide oozed across a beatless chest. She shook her head, not wanting to go there. “Where’s Lauren?”
“Who?”
“My … cousin.”
Liam’s eyes filled with awareness, then he averted his gaze, focusing on her ring. “I know of no Lauren.”
Jensen pushed herself up and swung her legs off the side of the bed. “I have to go.”
“Where?”
She shoved a foot into a navy striped flat. “I don’t know. Somewhere.”
“Look at me.” When she didn’t comply, he reached down and tilted her chin, gazing into her eyes. “Recall that you’re staying with my family while your cousin’s away on business.”
She smacked his hand away. “What the hell are you talking about?”
His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “I know things seem weird now, but—”
“Weird? One day you’re normal and the next, you’re walking around with a butterfly attached to your back. Then Malice in Wonderland tries to squeeze my head off, and you’re calling it weird. This is beyond weird. Crazy, fantastical even, but definitely not weird.”
Liam rubbed his hands down the middle of his face, pausing at his mouth. “Bad choice of words,” he mumbled through his fingers, then headed for the door. “I’ll be right back.”
Jensen nodded, going through a mental list of places Lauren could be staying. Their last conversation rushed back to her, along with that terrible hollowness in the space where her heart used to live.
Her sister didn’t want to be found, didn’t want to be around her anymore, like she was this terrible burden to deal with. And with that, Jensen didn’t know what to do. For a moment, terror welled up inside of her.
Forgetting Liam had left, she turned back to ask what the hell was going on and met a closed door. She wrapped her fingers around the knob, pulled it open, and eased into the dark hallway. Voices carried up the stairs, soft but understandable.
“Are you sure you did it right?” a boy’s voice asked.
“Of course I did, Eiden,” Liam replied. “It’s just not working. The girl is Two-Sighted.”
“How can that be? She wasn’t before,” Eiden said.
“Well she is now.”
“Liam, humans don’t just wake up with Sight.” A girl spoke now. “They either have it or they don’t. There’s no gray area, no in-between.”
“She sees through my glamour, ignores my compulsion.” Liam’s voice sounded solemn, distant.
They hurled the word human like it was a disease, one they didn’t share. What the hell were they?
Someone moved. Fabric ruffled and shoes clacked and scraped against hardwood. Shit. She was going to get caught eavesdropping. Desperate to get out of sight, she ducked through an open door and eased it closed.
There had to be hundreds of books in the room, bindings in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Though she wanted to scan the back cover of each and every one, her eyes refused to budge from the old leather tome sitting on top of a bronze pedestal in the center of the room.
Jensen couldn’t tell if it was a family cookbook, or a book of shadows, but the promise of secrets hidden within piqued her curiosity. She ran her fingers across the intricate wing design embossed on the cover and pulled it open, careful not to rip any of the fragile pages. Thees and thous taunted her, but like a child, she ignored the writing and focused on the pretty pictures. Beautiful, gossamer winged beings danced across the pages, their faces forming expressions of pure delight.
Jensen’s breath caught in her throat. Winged beings. Like Liam. Abandoning her plan to be gentle, she flipped through the pages, halting when she came across a word written in bold black ink: Unseelie.
“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Liam said.
Jensen spun around, her hand flying to her chest.
Liam’s eyes burned like swirling blue flames as he walked forward, annihilating her personal bubble. He raised his arm.
She flinched away. But all she felt was a light breeze on the back of her neck as Liam flipped through the pages of the book. She found herself sighing in relief, since the only weapons she had were wobbly knees and an untested right hook.
She pried her lids apart, looking at him closely.
He was cute, in a crazy winged-thing sort of way. A faint scar slashed through the end of his left eyebrow. Golden stubble dusted his chin making him seem older, rougher than the baby-faced boys at school. A short, spiky fohawk finished the look.
“What are you?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He didn’t respond, simply motioned for her to turn around.
She glanced back and gasped. Long pale hair framed a heart shaped face, one very much like her own. Running her finger across the image, she traced every curve more from memory than sight, knowing exactly where each dimple should be.
The young girl wore an unflattering beige dress, probably stuffed with feathers at night to rest her head. Either that or she used it to lug around potatoes. Solemn eyes stared out at her. Though the paper was colorless, she knew that those wide eyes were a shade lighter than that of the morning sky. Beautiful eyes. Lauren’s eyes.
Beneath the image was an unfamiliar name written in sprawling letters as if the person in question had been deemed undeserving of perfect penmanship. “Lorelei Le Fae,” Jensen mumbled aloud, the words tasting wrong on her tongue. Le Fae? The Faerie?
“The only child of Morgen Le Fae,” Liam whispered, his arms trapping her between the warmth of his body and the cold, bitter lies of the book. He flipped the page again, this time going backwards, leaving Jensen bereft for the face she knew better than her own.
A pale-haired woman with a face just as beautiful as Lauren’s, maybe even more so, stared out at her, her eyes colder than a ice storm and more calculating than a mathlete on X. Morgen Le Fae, Betrayer of Camelot served as the caption.
Jensen slammed the evil tome shut. It was clearly a dark book of shadows, warded to hurt those not meant to read it. “You’re trying to tell me you’re a faerie? That Lauren’s a faerie, and that she’s somehow related to the woman who brought down Camelot, King Arthur’s sister? Liam, that’s pretty gay.”
“I’m trying to tell you the truth. Whether you choose to accept it is up to you. But Morgen was not Arthur’s sister.”
Jensen closed her eyes, rubbing her brows with her thumb and forefinger.
Liam wrapped his hand around her arm, his thumb rubbing the spot above her elbow. “You know the story of Camelot?”
Her mind at war, she could only nod. She wanted to crown him the king of tall tales, but in the end, she couldn’t. How else could she explain his wings? Or how she was still alive?
Words began to pour from him as if her answer had never mattered. “Morgen’s interference in mortal dealings ended the Pendragon line. The Seelie Court could not allow such a thing to happen again. There had to be a punishment for all involved, including the Lady of the Lake, the emissary between our realms.”
“Vivian,” Jensen mumbled, remembering the name from the movies.
Liam nodded. “Morgen’s older sister. As punishment, King Auberon barred both Vivian and Nimue from entering the Isle of Man for a period of sixty human years. The betrayer was exiled to the Isle of Ash, while her daughter remained with Vivian in the Isle of the Beloved. All other fae were barred from ever leaving Faery.