Charade (22 page)

With Sam spending a few hours this afternoon with Logan (I still didn’t know what was going on) and then his training session with Cole and Gemma (a training session he didn’t really want me around to watch), I figured that now was as good as any time to see if our friendship was salvageable because, deep down, I still hoped it was.

I turned onto the street that led to her house and drove slowly past the huge lake-front homes while I wondered if she would even let me in.

See, the real Kimber feels as alone and insecure as the rest of us—if not more. Her parents ignore her and barely notice when she is around. She’s come to think that having money and popularity is the only way she’ll ever get noticed. In a sad way, it’s worked for her. But there is a price for popularity, which I learned too well last year after my accident and was left scarred. The more popular you get, the more you have to hide because if one thing gets out that goes against that perfect image you crafted for yourself, then it’s all over. Kimber may not realize it, but high school friends are fickle and only looking for the next thing (or person) that can make them feel like somebody. I’d guess that right about now, Kimber’s perfectly crafted world is tumbling around her, and her only ‘real’ anchors (me and Cole) were gone.

I pushed away the niggling thought that maybe Kimber had been using me all those years to gain her popularity and maybe we just weren’t that good of friends. I didn’t want to think that way. Kimber and I
did
have some great times before my life took a wild turn. I wasn’t ready to believe that those good times were all for the sake of her popularity.

I took a deep breath and knocked at the front door, waiting to see who would answer. I was beginning to think no one was going to answer when the door cracked open, and through the small space, I could see Kimber’s green eye staring at me.

“Go away.” She started to close the door, but I threw my palms against it and pushed.

“I want to talk.”

“I’m busy.”

“I brought you a mocha with whipped cream…” I sang, dangling the cup in front of the crack.

The door opened and I suppressed a smile. She snatched the cup from my fingers and started to close the door again.

“Hey!” I yelled and pushed myself inside.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Are your parents home?”

“No.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared from sight. I knew where she was going and followed, making it through her bedroom door just before she slammed it.

“Look,” I began, feeling a light breeze from the window and turning. “Why is your window open?”

“Huh?” She placed her coffee on her dresser and went to the window and closed it. “I felt like some air.”

“You never open the window. You don’t like bugs and your parents run the AC.”

“You came all the way over here to discuss my window?” She lifted a brow.

“I wanted to apologize for hurting you. I was hoping we could come to some sort of truce before we leave for Italy.”

“You mean so I don’t make you miserable during our trip?”

“No,” I said, working to hold onto my patience. “I thought we were friends.”

“Well we aren’t. Not anymore.”

“There are things you don’t know about Cole,” I began. “And when you find out, you’ll understand everything. I swear.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “So you know about all of these things that Cole is ‘going through?’”

Oh, boy. That didn’t really come out right. “Sort of.”

She laughed. “You have some nerve. You sure are full of yourself since you got rid of those scars.”

The barb stung, but I refused to let it show. “I need you to trust me. When you find out…”

“Tell me now then!” She flung the words at me in challenge.

“I can’t. It’s not my information to share.”

“You can leave now. I have packing to do.” She went into her bathroom without looking back.

I looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Coming here had been a huge mistake. Kimber was too angry and hurt to listen. At least I could leave knowing I did everything I could to repair our ‘friendship.’ Maybe she was right. Maybe we never had a real friendship to begin with.

Just as I was about to leave, I noticed something sitting on her dresser. I’d been in this room a million times and I had never seen it before. It wasn’t very large and looked like a box you might get a bracelet in. It was wood with a small silver clasp on the outside. I found myself moving forward and reaching out to pick it up. My fingers closed over the smooth surface and I realized that it wasn’t wood at all-but metal made to look like wood. My fingers itched to open it and see what was lying inside…

“Snoop much?” Kimber snapped and grabbed the box out of my hands, tucking it into the pocket of the fluffy pink robe she was wearing.

“Where’d you get that?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“What’s inside?” I knew she wouldn’t answer, but I had to ask.

“Geez, can’t you take a hint? Get out!” she yelled. The bathroom door behind her slammed shut as if to punctuate her scream.

Her eyes went wide and she jumped, looking over her shoulder at the door. When she turned back, her face was pale.

“Are you all right?”

“Like you care.” The cloud of worry around her dissipated and red took its place.

“I do.” I reminded her.

“You need to leave,” she said, much softer this time. Another cloud of brownish-yellow surrounded her head.

“You can talk to me, you know.”

For a minute, I thought she might say something, but then the walls around her went back up and she said, “I’ll talk to you when you talk to me.”

“I can’t tell you Cole’s business.”
Or mine.

Her shoulders slumped and she shoved her hands into the pockets of her robe. I imagined her hand closing tightly over that mysterious box. “Please, go.”

I went without looking back. Clearly, she was agitated, and my presence only made things worse. I climbed into Gran’s car with a heavy heart. I came here for answers and I got them. Kimber’s and my friendship was dead and there was nothing I could do to resurrect it.

Chapter Eleven

Heven

I hated sleeping alone. Without Sam, the bed felt too large, the room too cold. Even though he said he would be here, I watched the minutes turn to hours on the clock. Still no Sam. I tried not to be upset with him because I knew that he wanted to be here.

So I blamed Logan, instead.

But really that wasn’t fair, either, because even though Sam hadn’t told me yet, I knew that there was a lot going on with Logan. Something must have happened this morning—something that Sam needed to be with Logan for. Still, I couldn’t quite ignore the nagging feeling that Logan was trying to keep Sam away.

But why would he want to do that?

Something didn’t make sense. I just didn’t know what it would be.

I rolled over and punched my pillow, letting out a frustrated sigh and resisted the urge to reach out to Sam and find out what he was doing. Doing so would only distract him and cause him to worry that something might be wrong here. I sat up, taking a sip of water and squeezing the back of my neck with my free hand. The pressure was back, sending small sparks of pain through my brain. I rubbed at my temples next, but nothing I did lessened the pain.

I flopped back onto the pillows and pulled the covers to my chin. With one last look at the clock, I rolled over, putting my back to it. Sam would be here when he could. Until then, I would sleep. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to concentrate on my breathing, taking long, deep breaths. Finally, I drifted into slumber.

I should have stayed awake.

As soon as my body surrendered to sleep, I felt like I was being sucked through a tunnel, all the air being sucked right out of my lungs. My stomach was tossed up into my throat right before I landed forcefully on a hard surface, flat on my back. With a groan, I opened my eyes. It wasn’t quite dark, but the lighting was dim and murky. Almost like a terrible storm had just passed, but the black, heavy clouds still hung low in the air, sucking out the life and creating a sallow, depressing cast to everything.

I stood up, noting that I was still dressed in the black shorts and white baby tee I wore to bed. My T-shirt was smudged with something that looked like soot. The back of my head throbbed as I took stock of where I was. The landscape around me was colorless and barren. The rocky, uneven ground consisted of dirt and chunks of shale that cut into my bare feet. It appeared that there once might have been trees, but now they were nothing more than broken limbs and stumps jutting out of the ground. All of them looked like they had burned in a fire. It would explain the soot on my clothes and the ash in the air. It would explain the desolate, dead way everything appeared.

Come to me.

I felt the power in his voice. It was raw and strong, and before I could think better of it, I was walking forward. I knew I should be frightened, part of me was. The other part of me knew that I was dreaming. People couldn’t get hurt in their dreams, could they? I didn’t think so. I walked on, curious about this place and the pull of the power that summoned me.

As I walked, the world around me changed very little. I came upon a river flowing alongside where I walked; its water was thick and black like oil. And it smelled. It smelled of sulfur and death. I veered away from the water, feeling a little sick, and came upon a valley. Before venturing down, I stopped on the hill and studied the scene below me.

There were demons. Lots of them. Some were fighting with one another, screaming and biting, causing pain where they could. Others were raiding the few shacks that scattered the area. The tiny broken buildings would shudder under the attacks, but none fell down. A few small fires burned around them, but no one seemed to care. I took a step backward, wanting to get away from the horrible scene. Unfortunately, my movement caught their attention.

Every demon below stopped what they were doing and turned toward me. I felt the hatred and excitement from their beady, soulless eyes burn right through my core.

Screw this dream. It was time to wake up.
Please, wake up.

Bring her to me,
the powerful voice ordered and the demons tripped over themselves to comply. I ran, the sharp shale and rocks stabbing into my feet, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get away. The demons followed me, all of them much bigger and faster than I, and I was quickly trampled from behind. I didn’t stay down long, though; I was pulled up by various rough hands. I screamed and fought, kicking and scratching when I could, but they were too strong. One demon thought I was funny and began laughing in a high-pitched wheezing noise that hurt my ears. I looked over and immediately regretted it.

He had sharp, pointy teeth that were grotesquely small for his large gums and mouth. His eyes were far apart and tiny, black pin pricks in his head. He stuck out his tongue, which was a long, black thing that seemed to have a mind of its own. When it reared up in my direction, I saw the red eyes and screamed. His tongue wasn’t a tongue; it was a snake. The snake hissed and shot forward. I tried to knock it away, but my hands were pinned and so were my legs as the demons carried me forward.

Do not harm her!

The demons grumbled and moaned, but the snake retreated back into the demon’s mouth and I shut my eyes and prayed. The demons grew quiet, their steps slowed and they dumped me onto the ground. I sprang up, catching them off guard and lashed out with my fist, connecting with something solid. The thing screamed and grabbed me. After watching Sam fight so many times and hearing Gemma’s recent instructions about fighting, I struck out with a solid fist.

It felt like I was pushing my hand through sand.

I pushed harder.

The demon fell to the ground at my feet and did not move.

All the other demons stared at me in shock. I was a little shocked too. I could defend myself! I just killed a demon.

Warm, rich laughter filled my ears.
I knew you had it in you.

I shuddered. It was not Sam who congratulated me.

A loud, shrieking sound came from behind and the demons began running, leaving their dead comrade at my feet. What could possibly scare away a demon?

Fear threatened to incapacitate me when a huge dark shape floated through the gray sky. It was so big that if there had been a shining sun, it would have completely blocked out the warm rays. It had a wingspan unmatched in size and I was momentarily reminded of the dinosaur museum we visited in third grade.

Except dinosaurs were extinct.

Right?

Its head was wide and square with a snout that stretched its face, elongating its intimidating looks and turning them to frightening. Thick, pointy teeth in several rows met like knives in the center of its mouth. The teeth were so large that its lips could not cover them even though it appeared to have its mouth closed.

As it lowered itself closer to the ground—and to me—large, vein-filled wings flapped almost lazily but still with enough power to blow my hair into my face, which I pushed away to stare at the creature.

I had been right. Dinosaurs are extinct.

But apparently, dragons existed.

It landed with a thump just feet away.

The dragon had a fat, protruding belly and sharp spines along its back and tail. Horns seemed to rip right out of its head and curve possessively toward the sky. Its eyes were small compared to the rest of its head, but they found me and stared, drilling a hole right through me. As it stared it tilted its head to one side.

I took a step backward and it hissed.

I stumbled and fell. Strong arms wrapped around me from behind.

The dragon swooped forward, hunching over the demon I just killed. It sniffed the body, then looked back up at me. Could it tell I was the one responsible?

Its eyes were gold like Sam’s. They were not nearly as hypnotizing or beautiful and the gold color was not pure, but there was something in them that made me pause.