Descendant (12 page)

Jen zips her coat and pulls on gloves and a hat. “Abby, hurry. Rose is persuasive, but sooner or later Jared’s going to realize he just handed over the keys to his brand new Jeep and come after us.”

I bite my lip.

Rose stops mid-zip. “Oh no. Don’t tell me you’re worried about lover-boy already.”

My eyes fall on a pad of hotel stationery, which I use to jot down a note to Kye.

Went to Fountain Paint Pots with Rose and Jen.

Be back in a few hours.

Hope you got some sleep.

Abby

T
hen I fold the note in half and write his name on the front.

Rose taps her foot. “Ahem.”

“I’m done.” Flustered, I skip down the hall and slide my note under Kye’s door. We hustle to the elevator and then make a beeline outside.

Rose hits a button on the key ring, and a black Jeep—one of only four cars in the lot—roars to life. “Gotta love remote starters.” She turns to me. “You can start talking any time now, Abby. We’re, like, waiting.”

I climb in the back and fasten my seatbelt.
What can I tell them?
“Okay, let’s start with a question. How in the hills did you talk a stranger into loaning us his new car?”

Jen’s been holding in her laugh since the restaurant, and now it explodes out of her. She claps both hands to her mouth, shaking with laugher until tears stream from her eyes. “You ... should ... have ... seen yourself.”

Rose only laughs a little as she shifts into reverse, even though Jen’s laugh is of the contagious variety. She sounds sober when she says, “It’s just something I do. I’ve always been able to talk people into things. My mom says it’s a special talent.” She smiles, but I detect a hint of sadness. I wonder about it but don’t ask. I know all too well how that feels. We pull out of the parking lot and proceed along the icy road, following the arrows that indicate the direction to the Paint Pots.

When Jen calms again, she turns in her seat. “Enough stalling. Spill.”

“I met Kye for the first time yesterday. I mean, I’ve seen him before, but we never had an actual conversation until we were waiting for the bus.”

“Oh, no,” Rose says, her voice full of disgust. “Let me guess. You sat in the back.”

I shrug in response.

“Ew. Abby, you made out with him, didn’t you?”

“Not on the bus,” I protest.

“But you kissed him,” Rose insists, seeming disgusted. “A guy you just met.”

“Rose, let her talk.” Jen sounds intrigued. “First things first. On the kissing scale of ice to fire, where did it fall?”

My face burns, but I know I have to give Jen something. My fingertips trace my tingling lips as I remember. “Fire. Definitely fire.”

Rose catches my eye in the rearview mirror. She doesn’t look mad, but neither does she seem very happy. “Do you even know his last name?”

I return her glare, sensing I need to tread softly. “Yes, it’s Murphy. I know him better than you think.”

“And did you learn this before or after you stayed out all night with him?”

I blow out a breath.
What’s her problem?
“Why do you want to know?”

“Rose,” Jen says.

“What, Jen? What?” The Jeep accelerates. “Give me a break, okay? I’m trying to decide if I judged her wrong or if there’s something bigger going on.”

Jen folds her arms and sits back in her seat. “Who gave you the right to judge anyone?”

Rose bites her lip.

Oh no.
What if Rose and Kye have a thing? Or had a thing? Or she
wants
to have a thing? I swallow. “Rose, please, please tell me you were never ... hooked up with Kye.”

“No. Oh, ew.” Her expression reflects pure horror. “He’s my cousin.”

“Really?” Surprise and then relief surge through me. “So you have a legitimate emotional attachment to him. Will it make you feel better if I promise not to hurt him?”

She chuckles, but there’s no smile involved. “Abby, it isn’t him I’m worried about.”

Rose
  pulls into what looks like a driveway and parks the Jeep. The snow’s a foot deep in some places, while in others, bare ground is exposed. They lead me to a wooden walkway, all of us stepping cautiously to avoid ice. Falling into boiling acid would not be fun right now—or ever. Nearby, a fountain of water sprays ten feet into the air, spewing and bubbling for several minutes before it abates.

Breath catches in my throat. “Is that a geyser?”

“A real live geyser.” Jen links elbows with me, her body radiating comforting heat.

Rose saunters a few feet ahead and points to one side of the walk. “Paint pot.”

A gooey, gray substance bubbles and spits on the ground. We wander the length of the walkway and I reluctantly feed the girls a modified version of what happened on the bus, careful to leave out anything referring to Kye’s Gift. Also how I feel like I’ve known him forever. Some things are too strange, too private, to put into words.

“That’s sweet.” Jen sighs, a dreamy look on her face. “But I just know you’re leaving pieces out. Like, where were you all night?”

I stop to stare at a sputtering geyser. “With Kye.”

“Obviously,” Rose says. “But what were you doing while the rest of us were sleeping?” Her insinuation is clear.

“Talking.”

“Talking?” Jen kicks a piece of ice into a bubbling paint pot. It immediately melts into the mud. “All night? Where?”

“We looked all over for you,” Rose says. “Tell me you weren’t in his room.”

I scoop up a handful of snow and pack it into a ball, then throw it at a geyser. It disintegrates in mid-air. “We were freezing our tails off—outside.” I catch myself glancing in the direction of the Inn. Kye is probably awake by now. Everything inside me pulls toward him. There’s no explanation for this intense desire to be near him, no reason to explain why his absence feels like a hollow, aching loss.

“Look at her.” Jen pushes me along the path. “She’s lovesick.” We’ve come full-circle back to the parking lot and I notice a trail of melted ice leading from the place where we started.

Scowling at Jen, I storm to the car. The ache has grown into a shooting, physical pain in my abdomen, and by the time I get to the Jeep, I’m doubled over, breathing heavily. Something isn’t right. After checking my energy field and finding my chakras in fair alignment, I wander to an aspen tree and pull a twig from a low branch. “What are you doing?” Rose calls.

“Just checking out this tree,” I say. “It’s amazing how plants can grow here, only yards away from all that icky mud and acid and stuff.” I keep my back to them and rub the twig on my sleeve, then break off a piece and suck on it. The anxiety slowly ebbs away—or most of it.

I chew the aspen bark for a while, then spit it out, staring into the forest until I’m grabbed from behind, arms pinned to my sides with powerful muscles.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” The stranger’s voice is low, rough.

Jen screams. Rose’s voice shakes as she asks, “What do you want?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I squeak as panic races through me.

“Could’ve fooled me,” says the man. In our struggle, I catch a glimpse of his face and recognize him from the hallway yesterday. The guy Mr. Akers called Boone. “You two looked awfully cozy last night.”

His arms squeeze my chest, leaving me gasping, choking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let go of her.” Rose offers him the keys. “You can take the Jeep if you want. Just let her go.”

Boone ignores both Jen’s screaming and Rose’s bargaining. “It was a mistake for you to come here without him.”

“Why?” My voice is shaky. “What do you want?”

“Doesn’t matter. You don’t have to know or do anything to be bait.”

Rose drapes a calm demeanor around her like an invisible veil. “You don’t want to take Abby.” Her voice flows across the tension like a soothing balm and Boone’s arms relax around me. “She’s not who you think she is. You have the wrong girl.”
He does have the wrong girl. Rose is right. She’s always right.

Boone pulls back, and though he still has a tight grip on me, I feel his eyes raking me up and down. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’s the one I want.” His voice sounds sure, but his confidence cracks enough to allow doubt to flow in.

“You’re wrong. Just like you’ve always been wrong.” Rose steps closer. “Wouldn’t you like to get something right for a change? Just once?”

Yes, I’m tired of always messing things up. I want to do exactly what she says.

Boone shakes his head. He seems to be waging an internal battle. “Not me. I never screw up. I always do it right. It’s other people who mess up.”

Rose dangles the keys on the end of her finger. “You want to get in that Jeep and drive. Run away and no one will catch you. All you have to do is let go of my friend and take these keys.”

I could take the keys and drive away. Far away. Start over.

Boone tightens his grip again, and this time, I don’t have a chance to take a breath. Black spots swim in front of my eyes as I struggle for air, and what I do manage to pull in tastes like smoke. Rose moves closer. If my arms were free I could reach out and touch her. “Stay back!” Boone shouts. “I know your trick, little girl, and it won’t work on me.”

Everything goes gray around the edges. Rose no longer appears the confident young woman offering keys to a stranger, but rather one immobile with fear. Then an orange flame erupts between the girls, distracting them, while Boone drags me backward through the snow. He stumbles on something, his boot uncovering a fist-sized rock that my ankle then brushes against. The contact sends a tiny burst of energy up my leg. Boone moves faster and faster until we’re yards away from my friends.

At the edge of the parking lot, he picks me up and I kick him, fighting with all my strength. A few times my feet connect with body parts, and each time I hear a muffled grunt, I fight harder. I’ve been taught it’s never a mistake for a girl who’s being taken somewhere against her will to fight, but when Boone tosses me on the ground and subdues me with his body—I begin to wish I hadn’t.

His arm is around my chest and his other hand is over my mouth, grinding my cheek against my teeth until I taste blood. His legs clamp around mine so I can’t move. I can’t even scream.

Then the energy around us changes and I hear feet crashing through snow and underbrush. Something solid whooshes over us, propelling Boone away from me in a blur of movement. I sit up, preparing to jump and run, but hot air blows on my neck and something wet tickles my ear. Shrieking, I spring about three feet in the air and land on my rear with a thud.

From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Kye and Boone, wrestling on the ground in a tangle of shrubs and tree limbs, but when I look straight, I find myself staring into the bright brown eyes of the white moose.

His antlers spread at least five feet across, and his square head is lowered, prepared for battle. Never in my life have I been so close to a creature of this size. I should be frightened, but I’m not. I know he won’t hurt me. Instinct tells me to run—run, you idiot!—but I can’t make my feet move. Finn holds me trapped in his gaze, and I get the feeling he’s trying to communicate something I don’t understand.

When the wrestling comes nearer, he backs into the trees. I leap into action, searching for a weapon I can use to help Kye, and settle on a large, broken tree branch. My intentions are good, but I hesitate too long and before I have a good grip, Boone tackles me. I’m under him again and he’s holding a knife to my throat.

“Let her go, Boone.” Kye wheezes.

A wolfish smile spreads across Boone’s face. “You see, honey, I didn’t even have to take you anywhere before lover-boy came running to save you.”

“I said let her go.” Kye growls.

Boone’s grip loosens, but he keeps his weapon in position. “You have something I want.” He pulls me off the ground and drags me
backward—again. “And now I have something you want. I thought we’d work out a trade.”

Kye’s eyes flash. “What? What could I have that you want badly enough to kidnap someone?”

“Where is it?” Boone hisses.

“Where is what?”

“The Key! Where’s the Key?”

Kye looks truly baffled. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. A key? What kind of key?” Something rustles behind us.

Rose’s voice chimes in, “I have the keys! Right here. I already said you could have them. Just take the Jeep, already!” From the corner of my eye, I see a flash of color—Jen’s lavender coat, the sleeves now scorched.

While Boone’s distracted, Kye grabs the hand holding the knife, directing it at Boone’s torso while I roll away. More wrestling ensues, but as soon as I make it to the others, Kye lets go and hurries to put himself between Boone and me.

Boone howls with rage and his eyes flash violet again. A blackish aura loaded with red darts settles around him. His fury is about to spill over and he’s still clutching the knife.

“Kye,” I whisper. “We need to go. Please.” I grab a fistful of his coat and urge him to the parking lot.

Boone points at me. “Who is she?”

“Just a girl.” For the first time, I sense real fear in Kye. “No one who matters.”