The Changeling (Book One of The Síofra Chronicles)

Changeling

Book One of The Síofra Chronicles

By K.R. Wilburn

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Text Copyright © 2014 K.R. Wilburn

All rights reserved

Published by

Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing

Dedication

To Carol, Lindsey and Jenn. 

For Monday morning updates and late night text marathons.

Chapter One

I had the dream again last night. The same one I’d been having for weeks.  It varied a little each time, but the theme was always the same.  I was going to die.

It always started out the same—with me alone in the dark and lost. I hated the dark. Hated the fear that lurked behind every tree and every shadow. My heart pounded erratically, the pulse echoing in my ears, and I struggled to let my eyes adjust to the darkness.

Wrapping my arms around my middle and huddled to keep out the oppressive cold, I glanced around my surroundings, trying to see where I was.  The mist swirled around my legs, obscuring the ground, and the bare trees looked like twisted crones towering over me. Even though I knew it was just a dream, I couldn’t stop shaking because deep in my heart of hearts I knew the truth.

I wasn't alone.

There was something stalking me, moving through the trees on stealthy feet. A branch snapped in the distance behind me and I spun toward the sound.  I held my breath and waited for my attacker but found only emptiness. Mocking laughter echoed off the trees. I tried to pierce the heavy dark with my gaze, desperate to find where it was coming from.

"Cassie…"

My breathing hitched. The voice was arctic, like ice pressed against my skin, and I trembled at the sound. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, telling me to run, and I willed my body to comply but couldn’t force my traitorous legs to move.

The cackling began again, and it sounded like it was coming from all around me, making me feel disoriented. Tears clouded my vision and I shook uncontrollably.

"What do you want?" I whimpered.  I desperately searched the void in front of me and told myself to stop crying. I turned in a slow circle, trying to find where the voice was coming from, but I couldn’t see anything but darkness. 

"Cassie… I'm coming for you
,"
the voice taunted me, this time coming from the opposite direction.

Stifling a sob, I spun back around toward the voice. The tears I had tried so hard to hold back broke free and slid down my cheeks.

"Leave me alone!" I demanded, trying to force some kind of bravery into my words, but I wasn’t fooling anyone.  Even I could hear the fear in my voice.

"I'm almost there. I'm coming for you, Cassie, and when I find you, you will be mine…"

I felt a cold hand sharply grasp my shoulder, the icy touch burning my skin, and I yelled out. I jerked away from its touch and turned to confront my attacker. Pale skin and a mouth that was too big for its face rose up out of the darkness. A scream died in my throat as its long, thin lips split open, turning up at the corners to reveal a wide smile filled with large, sharp teeth. 

I turned and forced my legs to run.

I ran as fast as I could, pushing my legs to move faster in my desperation. The laughter sounded close behind me, and time slowed down. My muscles burned with exhaustion, but I wasn't moving anymore. It was like I was trapped in slow motion and the harder I ran the slower I went.  Dread washed over me, and I realized that no matter what I did, I wasn’t going to escape. 

The monster’s derisive glee sounded again, and he grabbed my arm.  His fingernails dug into my skin and I whimpered. I could feel the sticky, warm blood welling from the wounds.

"You can't run from me, Cassie. I will always catch you.  Silly little girl, you don’t even know what you are. They can’t protect you from me,” it hissed low in my ear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I cried, my throat burning. “Just let me go!”

“As you wish.”

The creature released my arm and I pitched forward, my face colliding with the hard ground. I rolled over and groaned, dazed by the blow, and found the face hovering over mine. Its sickly sweet breath assaulted me and I gagged at the smell of decay.

The eyes were so bleak and so empty that it was as if I was staring into nothing. I was trapped in them, losing myself in the dark orbs, when I saw the faintest glimmer. A fire burned in their depths, and a tremor moved down my spine. I forced myself to shut my eyes tight.

Wake up, Cassie!  Wake up!

Panic welled up within me until it spilled out of my lips with a sound somewhere between a shriek and a moan.  “Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

"Because you are mine.  No matter where you try to hide from me, I will find you and you will die screaming.  Scream for me, Cassie…"

I found my voice and obliged him, the screams ripping from my throat. The emptiness of his eyes closed over me again, wrapping me in the fear, and no matter how I tried, I couldn’t break free again. This was it. This was the end.

I was going to die.

A bright light flashed in the clearing, growing brighter by the second, and I felt a warmth chase the fear from my heart.

“This isn’t over, Cassie,
”
the creature snarled. “You can’t hide from me. I will always find you.”  With one last glare, it reared back and fled into the rapidly diminishing shadows.

I could breathe. I could move.

I struggled to a seated position as the light surged, growing brighter and brighter until it burned my eyes, making them water painfully. I threw my face to the side and covered it with my arm.

After several moments, I moved my arm, opening my eyes slowly and letting them adjust.

I was in my bedroom, the bright sunlight shining through the windows and waking me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was only a nightmare. I was safe.

Chapter Two

There were days that were great, days that were good, and days that sucked. Then there were days that sucked harder.  I wasn't sure what kind of day this was yet, but the longer I stayed at work, the more it seemed it was falling in the ‘sucked harder’ category. 

"Make sure you get those shelves restocked before the end of your shift," wheezed the old woman glaring at me, her voice dripping with disdain.  "Last time, it took you two days to get it done and I had to handle the rest of the store by myself!" She stalked back to her office, the faint musty odor of her five cats trailing in her wake, and I had to grit my teeth and bite back my reply.

If I weren’t so concerned about keeping my job, I would have pointed out that it had taken me two days to do it last time because I’d been busy doing both of our jobs while she had been out getting coffee, taking naps in the stockroom, and playing around on the computer in the back office. Unfortunately for me, the old bat was my boss Sharon, so speaking my mind wouldn’t do anything but make life worse.  A job I hated was better than no job at all.

"Yes, ma'am," I sighed as I reached in the box next to me and pulled out another stack of books. The position was tedious, but it paid the rent. I was a freshman at Chico State University, and I was lucky to have a job in the first place. My dad was an accountant, and he had set up a college fund for me, but between what my parents had saved and financial aid, I was lucky to break even on tuition and books. Rent and food had to come out of my pocket, and that required a job. But one day I wouldn’t need this job anymore and I would finally be free to speak up for myself. That’s when I would tell her exactly what she could do with this job.

Maybe.  References were kind of important.

"Miss?"

I looked up, startled to find myself looking into clear blue eyes. Darkly lashed, with a small golden ring around the pupil, they were unlike anything I had ever seen, and I couldn't help but gape. The man who owned them had dark black hair that was a little too long to be conventional, high cheekbones covered in tan skin, and lips so full they would have been feminine on any other face.  He was breathtaking.

"I'm sorry," I stuttered, trying to paste a polite smile on my face and not to look like I had just been gawking at him.  I put the books in my hand on the shelf and took a moment to catch
my breath before I turned back around to face him. "How can I help you?"  Amazing eyes or not, this was my job, and Sharon would lose it if she caught me ogling the customers. 

"Well I'm looking for a book for my next class. I was wondering if you had in stock." He handed me a small slip of paper with the book name and ISBN written on it. I took it from him, our fingers grazing in passing, and I shivered at the contact. 

"No problem. Come with me and I'll look it up for you." I was grateful that for once Sharon was too busy feeding her gaming addiction in her office to bother with the register.  "It looks like we're all sold out of that textbook at the moment. When does your class begin? We can order one for you and let you know when it gets here if that'll work for you?"

I glanced up from the computer screen and flushed at his intense gaze. The right side of his mouth pulled up into a smirk and my cheeks warmed.
Get a grip, Cassie
, I thought.
Try not to make an ass of yourself.

"Oh, not for weeks. Why don’t I give you my number? Maybe you can give me a call when it comes in.” His grin deepened, revealing a dimple in his right cheek as I handed him the order forms. He filled out his information and signed the form with a flourish before he slid it back toward me.

"Thank you, Mr. Black," I said, reading his name. "It will be about two weeks, and someone will give you a call when it gets here so you can swing by and pick it up.” 

"Call me Dom," he said, leaning over the counter, his eyes dancing. "What are the chances it will be you who calls?"

"Slim to none," I replied with a hint of disappointment. "My boss takes all of the new inventory and handles pre-orders, so she’ll be the one you deal with when you come back to the store.”

"Well then how about you give me your number and I can call you about it instead?”

  My heart beat wildly as I debated giving him my number.  I could almost hear my best friend Becca in my head shouting at me to do it and to stop being such a scaredy-cat.

“Yeah, I can do that,” I grinned, reaching for a sheet of scratch paper.

“Sorry, lover boy," interrupted Sharon, cackling as she joined me behind the counter. "You'll have to 'hook up' on your own time. She's on my dime right now."

Ugh.  She had a sixth sense or something.  It was like she instinctively knew that for a moment I was happy in her vicinity and had to rush to kill it before it infected the other students. 

I smiled ruefully at Dom and shrugged, momentarily cheered by the glare he shot at Sharon. "Maybe another time."

“Count on it,” he promised, his eyes sparkling.

Returning to the back of the store, I distracted myself by shelving the rest of the books and imagining all the things I could have said to Sharon if I weren’t such a coward.  I heard her hustle Dom out of the store, insisting that she would personally see to his order, and I sighed.   All I could do was hope that I would run into him when he came to pick up his book.

Two hours later, I’d finished shelving the last of the books, cleaned up the shop—by myself, of course—and started making my way home. I shared an apartment with Becca a few blocks from campus, and the walk home was always the best part of my day. The October air was crisp, and I relished it after the long day. It gave me plenty of time to consider Dom's eyes and smile and imagine what it would be like to see him agai
n, if I ever saw him again.

I had barely made it in the door before
I was accosted by Becca and our friend Miguel, the latter holding a pretty bakery cake with nineteen candles. Black forest cake—my favorite. My mom always made it for my birthday, and Becca knew it. This was one of the many reasons why she was my best friend. People always assumed that she was mean or shallow before they’d even spoken to her because she was so over-the-top pretty, but the truth was that she was extremely thoughtful and had the kindest heart out of anyone I had ever known. She always thought of the little details and went out of her way to make those she cared for happy.

"Happy birthday!" they cheered. 

I stood in the doorway, happy tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. "You guys didn't have to do this!" I smiled, dropping my bag next to the door.

"Of course we did, Cass," Miguel smiled, his dark eyes shining with glee as he set the cake on the kitchen table. "Now blow out these candles so we can have some cake!"

"Don't forget to make a wish," said Becca. "Preferably for someone tall, dark, and handsome to sweep you off your feet."

I immediately thought of Dom, of his clear blue eyes with the strange gold ring. I had already met tall, dark, and handsome, but there would be no sweeping, Sharon had seen to that.

"What's wrong with short, dark, and handsome?" Miguel interjected with a grin.  "Don't hate on the short dudes. What we lack in height we make up for in other areas."

"Are you putting yourself up as a candidate?" Becca teased, pulling plates from the cabinet and setting them on the table.  "Why, Miguel, I wasn't aware you were into girls too."

"I'm not," he said, rolling his eyes as he lit the candles on the cake.  "I'm just saying, don't knock the shorties.  But don't wear four-inch heels when you date them.   Come on, girl. Blow them out so we can dig in. I’m starving!”

I thought about everything I could possibly wish for and settled on something. 
I want to be brave.
I wished silently, my eyes closed tight, and leaned over and blew out the candles, extinguishing all of them with a single breath. I cut a large slice for Miguel and myself, knowing that Becca would decline since bakery cakes rarely come in GMO- and gluten-free varieties. Plus, she was particularly distrustful of anything containing refined sugar. Or anything that tasted good, for that matter. 

"So where are we going tonight?" Becca asked, fishing in the fridge for one of her gluten-free fruit and nut bars. "I was thinking we should go try that new club that opened up on Walnut Street and dance until we drop."

"What? Why? I was thinking maybe we could drag the sleeping bags out and watch scary movies like we always do. Besides, you know I hate places like that.”

"Come on, Cassie!" Becca whined, flipping her glossy, dark hair over her shoulder and flashing her winningest smile at me. "It’ll only be for a little while! I promise I won't tell anybody it's your birthday, but we absolutely have to go out and celebrate. This is your first birthday away from home and we should actually go out and live it up for once. I’m not going to take no for an answer." She folded her arms and gave me that determined look that told me I shouldn’t bother arguing, but dammit! It was my birthday!

"Come on, Becca," I pleaded. "It's been a long freaking day. I had two exams and a full shift at the bookstore. I'm exhausted. All I want to do is put on something comfy and relax.” 

It was useless. Becca had that gleam in her eye, and when Becca wanted something, Becca got it. Arguing with her when she had that look was an exercise in futility, but she wasn’t the only one who was stubborn. 

"Oh no you don't!" Miguel said, pushing his empty plate away. "Becca may be down for staying in every year for your birthday, but I look far too good to be kept inside. You are not staying in this year. It's a Friday night. Everyone else our age is out and having fun, and we should too. You're too young to act like an old lady already! You're nineteen,
mija
, not ninety."

Becca pushed her full bottom lip out a tiny bit, her dark brown eyes shining as she pleaded with me. Whenever I put up any resistance, she would unleash that puppy-dog look in full upon my wavering will because we both knew that I couldn’t deny her pouty face anything. It was a good thing she used her powers for good instead of evil.  If Becca ever turned to the dark side, the world was pretty much doomed.

"Fine," I sighed. "We'll go out, but just to go dancing. We are absolutely not hitting up any frat parties. Every time you drag me to one, it falls apart or the campus police show up, and I really don't want to get mixed up in all that mess this time. We'll go dance for a little while and make it home without any drama."

Becca's face split into a broad smile and she mimed drawing an x over her heart.

“Why would we hit up any frat parties? We’re just going dancing! Now we need to get you dressed!  I have just the thing!” she said with a grin.

Grabbing my hand and dragging me into her bedroom, she rifled through her closets for something she would deem appropriate for a night out on the town.  My shoulders drooped and I allowed myself to be pulled along, conceding defeat.  One day, I would get used to Becca treating me like her own living, breathing Barbie doll, but today wasn’t going to be that day. 

***

What the hell did I get myself into?

I felt like a walking disco ball. After rejecting the two miniskirts and the even shorter dress she had thrust into my hands, Miguel settled the dispute by reaching into her closet and pulling out a silvery top, a pair of skinny black jeans, and four-inch glittered high heels that threatened to send me to the hospital with a sprained ankle just by looking at them. I was already iffy about the clothes but knew better than to think it would end there.

I was right.

Becca hauled me off to the bathroom to paint my face into what I could only assume looked like a cheap hooker while Miguel straightened my curls with a flat iron.  By the time they handed me a mirror, I was terrified that I wouldn’t look anything like myself. 

I was right again.

I inhaled sharply, surprised by my own reflection. Becca's mastery with a makeup brush had brought out the clear jade green of my eyes, and the mascara made my already thick eyelashes
thicker and darker. My pale skin glowed like a lustrous pearl, and my red hair cascaded over my shoulders in a sleek silk curtain. I barely recognized myself. I looked more confident than I felt, like a girl ready to take the world head-on instead of one who was being dragged kicking and screaming into it while wearing shoes completely unsuited for kicking and  screaming.

Pulse was the newest club in town, and there was already a line stretching halfway down the block. Being one of the few nightspots for those under the legal drinking age, it was a big hit with the college crowd, and I groaned at the sight.  I hated places like this. I always felt so out of place, yet somehow I let my friends drag me here—even on my own birthday—because I didn’t have the heart to tell them how much I disliked it. My feet were already starting to hurt from teetering around in Becca's too tall heels, and I thought longingly of my flannel pajama pants and the stack of DVDs waiting for me at home.

"I don't think we're going to get in, guys. This line is way too long. It's not too late to call it a night and veg out in front of the television," I said hopefully.

"The hell you say," Becca grinned, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the front of the line.  She tilted her head so that she was looking up at the bouncer through her long eyelashes and flashed her most disarming smile at him.