Stolen (5 page)

“She’s drunk,” Brody says, as Raine throws her head back and laughs. “Or at least buzzed. She’s not going to be at her best.”

“Still.”

“I’ll tell her I have to talk to her about something,” Brody says. “I’ll take her upstairs to Lancaster’s bedroom, and then you… you come up behind her, and I’ll make sure that she’s –”

“Here you go!” Aiden comes back, hands me a plastic cup full of warm beer.

“Thanks,” I say, wishing I could take a sip.

Brody takes his water. “Thanks, man,” he says distractedly. “Listen,” he says, “I need to talk to Raine about something.” He gives me a look, and I know what he means.

He’s going to do it now, to try and get her alone. And when he does, I’m going to be expected to follow them.

“You sure you want to do that now?” I ask brightly. “You could do it later.”

“I’ll be right back.” He pushes through the crowd. I watch him as he leans down and says something to Raine, watch as she shakes her head, then rolls her eyes. Finally, she follows him upstairs, and I stand there, watching them go.

***

Aiden’s talking to me but I can’t really focus on what he’s saying. It’s been five minutes since Brody went upstairs with Raine, and I need to get up there while I have the chance. And before I lose my nerve.

“I think Adrianna
does
like me,” Aiden’s saying. “but I’m not
sure.
What do you think?”

I think that I honestly haven’t been listening. “Um, can we talk about this later?”

I ask him. “I should probably go and check on Brody.”

“I’ll go with you,” Aiden says, starting to move toward the stairs. “You shouldn’t go by your-- “

“No!” I say a little too loudly. “I mean, um, that’s okay, I can go myself. I’ll be fine, really.” I walk away quickly before he can tell me not to.

When I get upstairs, the hallway is almost completely dark, making it difficult to see. But there’s a small strip of light coming from underneath one of the doors down on the right. As I move closer, I can see that it’s open slightly, shining more light onto the cream-colored carpet. And then I hear the sound of Raine’s voice.

“Brody, give it up,” she’s saying.

“Raine, you have to listen to me,” he says. “You’re getting in over your head, you’re getting involved in things that are way too dangerous for you to handle.”

“No, I’m not. Cam and Natalia aren’t together anymore.” She laughs, and I hate that she’s saying his name, hate that she’s talking about how we’re not together. “Cam told me.”

He did? When? I’m in front of the room now, and I peer through the cracked door. Brody’s set it up perfectly. He’s sitting down on the bed (Lancaster’s?) and Raine is standing in front of him, her back toward me. I have a perfect shot at the necklace if I want it. I start to push the door open as slowly as I can, holding my breath, praying that I don’t make a sound.

“I know they’re not together anymore,” Brody says, “which is why you have to --

“I don’t h
ave
to do anything!” Raine says, her voice rising. “I have the power now, Brody, and I’m sorry but your little peace mission is over.”

Brody takes a step toward Raine. “Listen –“

“No!” she puts her hand up. “I’m done listening, Brody, so you can just -- ”

And that’s when I make my move. I rush into the room and grab Raine from behind.

“What the fuck!” she yells, and before she can figure out what’s happening, I have my fingers wrapped around the back of her necklace. I still have a fistful of her hair, but I don’t have time to get it out of the way, and so I yank as hard as I can. The chain breaks and falls into my hand, along with a fistful of Raine’s hair. The butterfly charm slides off and onto the carpet, so I bend down to pick it up and then take off, running back down the hall as fast as I can.

“You bitch!” Raine screams, and then starts running after me. I rush down the stairs and out the door, not sure exactly where I’m going, or what will happen if she’s able to catch me. I’m trying to get the necklace on, if I can just get the necklace on, I’ll have the power. But the chain is broken, and I’m struggling.

I can hear Raine behind me, her footsteps echoing on the cobblestone walk. I run down the driveway, struggling to get the butterfly charm back on the chain. There’s a car in the street, someone arriving at the party, and the passenger side window rolls down.

I look up and lock eyes with the driver

Cam.

“Nat,” he says, looking confused. “What’s going – ” And then he sees Raine, behind me, closing in. “Get in,” he says.

I don’t hesitate. I jump into the car, slamming the door shut behind me as Cam takes off down the street.

“What the
hell
is going on?” he asks, looking in the rearview mirror as Raine heads back up the driveway, probably to get her car and come after us. My hands are shaking and it takes me a couple of tries to slide the butterfly charm back onto the chain.

The loops around the clasp are bent, but I’m able to get them back into place and then finally, I fasten the necklace around my neck.

A bolt of pain burns through my head. Everything’s black and blurry and foggy and then I’m hallucinating or dreaming or something.

First, I see a boy. I’m in the woods, and there’s a boy I’ve never seen before.

He’s my age, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he’s being led away by two guards, and I’m screaming, I’m screaming at them not to hurt him, but someone is holding my arms so tight that it hurts. I look down and my legs are kicking, but they don’t look like my legs, they look like…Raine’s.
I’m in Raine’s memory.

Suddenly, the scene changes. Now I’m in a cave, Hadley’s lifeless body on the ground in front of me. I feel happy, excited. A little bad that I killed her, but like I know there was nothing else that could have been done.

The scene switches again, and now I’m on the beach. I can smell the ocean, feel the sand under my feet. There’s a girl further down, sitting near the water, and I’m walking toward her. And then I realize it’s
me
. I’m in Raine’s memory, walking toward
myself,
and although I debate just killing this pathetic girl, ultimately I decide it’s not necessary. After all, she saved my life when I was in Hadley’s basement. And then I ‘m casting a spell. Taking away every memory she has of the last few days, taking everything until her eyes just go blank and she sits motionless in the sand. Then I feel her iPad in my hand, cool and heavy.

The scene changes again. I’m back in the woods, there are girls laughing, and Cam’s lying underneath me. I look down. “A little souvenir of our romantic night together,” I whisper, and scratch him. He kisses me, his mouth hungry. And then I feel him going inside me, and I can’t tell if he’s really inside me physically or if I’m just taking in his energy, but it’s the best feeling I ever felt and it builds and builds until I can’t take it anymore.

I’m screaming, and I don’t know if I’m doing it in Raine’s memory or in my real life, the life where I’m in the car with Cam, but I’m screaming, screaming, screaming.

And then everything goes black…

WATCH FOR BOOK FIFTEEN OF THE

WITCHES OF SANTA ANNA, COMING

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And turn the page for a free bonus book –

EMBERS, Book One of the Playing With Fire

series of novellas

EMBERS (Playing With Fire #1)

By Lauren Barnholdt & Aaron Gorvine

Copyright 2011, Lauren Barnholdt and Aaron Gorvine, all rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this text may be reproduced without written permission of the authors.

Chapter One

Emily

This vacation is not off to a good start. I’ve been in the backseat of my parents’

car for five hours, and my iPod died after the first two. Which means that for the past three hours, I’ve been subjected to listening to whatever my dad put on the car radio (read: 1940s jazz music, or political talk radio.) After the first hour, I was getting antsy. I’d finished my book (ending = the destined-to-be couple got together, despite all odds), and it was getting hot in the backseat. By the third hour, I was so bored I was actually considering pulling out the travel Scrabble and playing a game. Against myself.

I know I shouldn’t be complaining. And normally, I wouldn’t be. Normally, I’d be super excited about going away to the Cape, spending the summer by the beach, relaxing, working on my tan, and forgetting about the stresses of home. But this summer isn’t normal. This summer is completely different. This summer, I actually have someone to stay home for.

“We’re here,” my dad announces from the front seat. I look up from rereading the best parts of the book I just finished, and my jaw drops.

“This is the house we’re staying in?” I ask in disbelief. I was picturing a tiny cottage, with crumbling shutters and a ramshackle fence in need of some paint. But this house… this house is huge. It’s sprawling and new, with cream-colored siding, a neatly manicured lawn, and huge sparkling windows. Rose bushes line either side of the granite steps, and a neat white fence separates the back from the front.

“Yup,” my dad says, sounding proud of himself. He slides the car into park. In the passenger seat, my mom pushes her sunglasses up on her forehead and peers through the windshield.

“It’s gorgeous,” she says. “I think we should all get in the pool and worry about unpacking later.”

“It has a pool?” I’m out of the car now, shielding my eyes from the sun as I stare up the driveway toward the house. “How the hell can we afford a place like this?” I demand. My parents are not rich. They’re not poor, either, but money has always been tight. In fact, this is the first family vacation I can remember us taking since I was a little kid. And even then we always stayed in cheap motels and ate most of our meals at Burger King.

My phone beeps with a text before I can get any explanation regarding our financial situation. I pull it out of my bag.

Gabe.

“miss u already”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. I don’t care about the pool anymore. Or the fact that the house we’re staying in is so big. I don’t care about anything except the fact that I just want to go home.

***

Once we’re inside, my parents immediately head upstairs to drop their bags off in the master bedroom, but I leave mine on the floor in the middle of the front hall. I’m hoping they get the message. The message being, “Oh, look, you brought me here and made me leave my boyfriend, so now I’m going to refuse to put my stuff away.” It’s ridiculous and childish and bratty and I kind of don’t care.

Once I’ve made my big statement, I don’t really know what else to do with myself, so I wander through the huge kitchen and into the backyard.

I’m getting myself all worked up, wondering how my parents could do this to me, and so at first, I don’t see him. The guy. He’s cleaning the huge, inground pool, and he looks up when I come outside, his eyes meeting mine.

“Oh,” I say, “Sorry, I, um, I didn’t know anyone was going to be back here.”

He’s wearing a pair of navy blue shorts, and no shirt, and he’s skimming the water with a huge net. “No problem,” he says, grinning. “You must be the tenants.”

“Yeah,” I say, “And you must be … “ I trail off, because I’m not sure exactly what to say. Somehow saying ‘you must be the pool boy’ definitely doesn’t seem like it’s okay. Not that I would know for sure. We’ve never had a pool boy before. We’ve never even paid someone to cut our lawn.

“I’m Lucas,” he says. He pulls the net out of the pool and drops it on the concrete stones. He picks his shirt up off a lawn chair, and then tosses it over his head. “I live here.”

“You live here?”

“Don’t worry,” he says, seeing the look on my face. “Not for the summer.” He pushes by me and toward the other side of the pool. As he does, he pushes his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, and I swallow. Hard. His muscles bulge through the fabric. His arms are tan and strong, the kind of arms that have obviously spent a lot of time outside, working in the sun.

“You live here but not for the summer?” I ask. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“My dad owns this house,” he says, “But in the summer, he rents it out.” He’s bending down now, his hand in the water, messing around with the filter.

“Why would you rent out a house like this?” I ask, sitting down in one of the patio chairs. “It’s amazing.”

“My dad likes to stay closer to the beach in the summer,” he says, and shrugs. He finishes with the filter and wipes his hand on his shorts.

Suddenly, I’m aware of the fact that my hair is probably a mess from napping on it in the car, and I’m sure my makeup is dripping down my face because of the humidity.

Not that I care what I look like. I mean, I have a boyfriend. Okay, that’s a lie. I kind of do care what I look like. Because Lucas is hot. The kind of hot that isn’t disputable. The kind of hot that, boyfriend or not, you can’t help but notice.

“Emily, did you – “ my mom starts, walking out onto the patio. “Oh,” she says when she sees Lucas. “I didn’t know someone else was out here.”

For a second, I think I see a look of anxiety, or maybe fear, flash across her face.

But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would she be worried about a guy who’s cleaning our pool?

“Sorry,” Lucas says, giving her a grin. He reaches over and holds out his hand.

“I’m Lucas Marshall. My dad owns this house.”

“Oh, of course!” my mom says, her eyes lighting up. “Paul mentioned he had a boy just Emily’s age.”

“I was just cleaning the pool,” Lucas says. “It’s such a hot day, I figured you might want to have a swim.”

“That’s so nice of you,” my mom says. “That’s so nice of him, isn’t it, Emily?”

“Yeah,” I say, “Very nice.” I stand up. It’s time for me to go in the house. One, because I need to call Gabe and two, because I know what’s about to happen.

See, the thing is, my mom really does not like the fact that I have a boyfriend.