Forlorn: A Young Adult Dark Urban Fantasy (Mythic Blood Series Book 1)

by JJ Krzemien

  “I’m not sure.” I told Sarah. “I have an idea, but I’ll tell you later.”

  She took a big swig of her peppermint latte. “Uh, sure. Then my turn.”

  “Okay. Yeah, catch me up.”

  “Mom and Dad have been talking with social services and working on how they can adopt you. Isn’t that great?” She beamed at me.

  I was stunned for a moment. “Adopt me?” That’s right, I could be adopted. I was an orphan after all.

  “Yeah, I guess our moms made a promise to each other. If anything happened to the one of them then they’d take care of the other’s family. So we’re stuck together from now on.” She squeezed my arm.

  My eyes stung again. The thought of having my best friend as family was the happiest thought I’d had in a while. But was it possible? What would they think of my wings? Could I even finish high school as a half angel? What about the rest of my life?

  Sarah chewed her bottom lip. “Oh, um, there’ll be a memorial service on Saturday.”

  I hadn’t even about my parents’ funeral. Or memorial for that matter. I’d really have to say goodbye.

  Sarah’s phone chirped. “They’re still stuck in traffic. We’ve got some time.”

  I shook off the grief that was hanging over me. “That’s actually okay. There’s something I want to show you…in Nordstrom.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Nordstrom was a stand-alone, imposing brick building that took up the entire city block. Through the double doors, holiday music and trendy winter clothing displays greeted us. I steered us toward the juniors clothing department, took a couple of hoodies and outfits from the racks, and went into the dressing room.

  With the door securely locked we sat on the bench. Dressing rooms always made me feel removed from the rest of the world, especially these kind where the walls go all the way up to the ceiling. The room within a room within a room arrangement added to the feeling of distance—and safety. I never wanted to leave here.

  “I have something more to tell you.” That sounded mysterious and leading, but I didn’t know any other way to begin.

  Sarah cocked her head at me. “What’s going on? I knew something else was up.”

  I avoided her gaze. “That guy Oscar, well, he’s actually a gargoyle.”

  As expected, she burst out laughing. “Come on.”

  “I’m serious. He changed into a gargoyle—well his head did—and that’s why I ran away into Forest Park. Scared me half to death.”

  She crossed her arms. “You’re scaring me now. You aren’t serious.”

  I sighed. “Just listen. I’m serious. And that’s not even the craziest part of it.” Which did I want to tell her first, that I’d been used for medical experiments or that I was turning into a half angel? Wait a second, what if the rapid healing was an angel thing? Maybe there weren’t any experimental drugs. Jesus.

  “Are you going to tell me or what?” She chewed her lip again.

  Ah, yeah…” There had to be a better way to do this. Inspiration came from Oscar.

  I peeled off my coat and T-shirt, then summoned up the courage to look at my back in the all-views, all-angles mirrors. The lighting in here was much better than the shelter’s. The skin on either side of the gashes was raised slightly where the wings were forming and trying to slip through. I stared at the reflection and took a huge breath of air. This was really happening.

  I turned my head to face Sarah. Her mouth hung open. She stood up and walked to me, one hand outstretched as if I were a wild animal.

  “Holy shit.” Her hand touched my arm and she paused. “Can I touch them?”

  I shrugged. “I guess.”

  I turned my back toward Sarah, and she ran her fingers with the lay of the feathers. They didn’t hurt anymore. A feeling of pressure had replaced the pain. Pressure I could deal with.

  “That’s…those are—wow, soft.” She took a step back. “I don’t get it, what’s happened to you?”

  “Oscar said they’re angel wings.” I studied them in the mirror again. “I’m half angel.” Saying it out loud felt weird.

  “How are you going to hide those under your T-shirt when they get big?” Sarah. Ever the practical one.

  “I hadn’t gotten that far yet. I’m still trying to accept everything that has happened to me. In the meantime, I need some new clothes. I’ll worry about the wing issue later.”

  While trying on the outfits, I noticed that the scars from the hospital had completely disappeared. My hair had grown longer, too.

  I decided on one hoodie and both outfits. If I was going home with Sarah then I could pick up all of my stuff from my house. Buying new outfits made me feel like I was starting fresh. Everything would be okay now. Except for the wings.

  “Oh my god!”

  My head jerked toward Sarah. “What?”

  “Happy Birthday! I almost forgot what day it was.”

  “Thanks. I think this might be the worst birthday ever—except for running into you.” The second half of this day was turning out much better than I ever would have expected.

  Sarah gave me a sympathetic look. “Yeah. I really wouldn’t want to be in your shoes right now. But we’ll get through this together. The wings, the murderer after you, your parents. All of it.”

  I smiled, trying to feel better. Trying my best to believe her and the little voice inside my head that was telling me the same thing.

  Her phone chirped again. “They’re almost here. Let’s go.”

  Sarah insisted on buying my new outfits as a birthday gift. I wrapped the Nordstrom bag around the clothes and stuffed it all in my backpack. I’d need a new pack for school soon, this one had been through a rough few days.

  Hoods up, we waited at the curb in front of the store for Sarah’s parents to pick us up. The late afternoon had turned overcast and chilly, rain began to fall in a mist. I pulled the hood closer against the cold damp.

  “I’m so happy that I found you today. Wait ‘till my parents see you.” Sarah hugged me for several long moments. When I made to pull away, her grip tightened. “I was so freaked out. You have no idea how—”

  I felt a hot sensation in my upper chest. Sarah staggered. I let her go and held my hand to the tingling area. A searing pain prickled through my shoulder and chest. Sarah screamed. My hand came away bloody. I’d been shot—again. But I hadn’t heard any gunfire, just a firecracker sound. Silencer—again. Which could only mean one thing. The gunman had found us.

  Reaching for Sarah, I pulled her behind a large concrete planter as the distorted gunfire sound buzzed around us. People on the sidewalk seemed confused at first, then started shrieking. Some ducked for cover. Others ran into the department store.

  We crouched on the damp bricks, holding tight to each other. Seconds passed. The gunman fired no more shots. How had he found me? Sirens came to life a few blocks away.

  I peeked over the planter. Where had he been shooting from? A glint of metal drew my attention to the clock tower’s roof. No more shots came.

  Sarah’s hold relaxed. Her arms slipped from my sides. I let go of her and she slumped to the ground. Her jacket was soaked with blood. At first I thought it was mine. I unzipped her coat, and found that the bullet had passed through me and into her chest. She wasn’t breathing, her unfocused eyes stared up into the sky.

  After that, everything became unreal. I felt like I was observing myself from a distance. My wound became numb. A coldness swelled in my gut, spreading outward to the tips of my fingers. I stared at Sarah’s pale face. It was time to leave. I said goodbye, then turned to walk away.

  A police car with lights on and siren blaring turned the corner and came into view. I bolted.

  I ran across the street and skirted the plaza, sure that I was being chased, if not by the cops then by the gunman or someone else who wanted to hurt me.

  Over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears, someone was yelling at me to stop. My legs pumped faster, gaining more speed. I darted through the crow
ded sidewalks, dodging hordes of pedestrians. Even when the shouting from my pursuer had faded, I kept running, not looking back.

  I didn’t think about where my feet were taking me until the roar of I-405 thundered overhead. Daylight had faded to a dark grey during the roughly twenty block sprint.

  Under the overpass, I stopped and glanced around in a daze. Why had I come here? I’d been here before. Remembering why was the hard part. Then I saw him and it all came back. Oscar. Gargoyle.

  “Lili? Lili, your face is so white. What happened?” He wheeled toward me taking both my hands in his. He looked me up and down. “You’re covered in blood, girl.”

  I nodded.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  His face twisted in pain as the sound like wood splitting and leather ripping filled the air. Then a low growl escaped him. He slid off the wheelchair and in moments the transformation was complete.

  Where Oscar had been sitting stood a seven foot tall gargoyle. His skin like dark grey marble, hard and cold, over massive muscles. The light from the fire pit accentuated every bulge and valley. Claws tipped his fingers and toes. Time seemed to slow as he unfurled giant, bat-like wings. He belonged on a Gothic cathedral, not on the outskirts of downtown Portland.

  I stared at him blankly, wondering why his fearsome appearance didn’t make me take a step back. Without a word he picked me up and we flew into the night sky with a whoosh of leathery wings.

  Some time later we landed in the middle of a forest. Although it was dark, the moon had not yet cleared the trees, I could smell pine, cedar, and wet earth. Also a sulfuric whiff. Water splashed against rock nearby.

  Gargoyle Oscar removed my backpack, coat, and boots. The ground felt hard under my feet. He clutched my hand in his cold palm, leading the way into a cold pool fed by a small waterfall. The mist dampened my face. He thrust me, fully dressed, under the falling water. I gasped and sputtered as the icy liquid drenched my hair, ran down my neck, and washed away mine and Sarah’s blood.

  When he apparently thought me and my clothes were clean enough, Oscar tossed me over his icy shoulder and trudged to a dark cave opening through the trees. Blackness swallowed us. The sulfur smell grew stronger. Dripping water echoed in the darkness.

  Oscar set me down on a slick, damp surface. I shivered, my wet T-shirt and jeans clinging to my body. All the warmth I’d felt in the snow the night before had vanished from inside me.

  A blaze of fire lit up the inside of the cavern. It diminished, leaving a small fire crackling in one corner. I shielded my eyes against the sudden light and sat up. Had Oscar just breathed fire? Now I was really imagining things.

  The section of cave we were in was about twenty feet in all directions. Steam rose to the high ceiling from a small pool in the rock. Beyond, the light faded into more darkness.

  “Get in the water, it will warm you.” Oscar sat hunched by the fire pit, pointing at the pool near my feet.

  I nodded and slid closer to the water. My nose wrinkled at the smell, I dipped a toe in the pool followed by the rest of me. The warm, mineral infused water thawed me from the outside in.

  With a deep breath, the reality of a few hours ago came back to me in a rush. I startled. My hands balled into fists as I hugged myself. Scenes from this afternoon filled my mind. I closed my eyes tight against them. I’d been shot. Bringing a hand to my chest I felt the scar of the gunshot wound. Every time I healed faster.

  Sarah had been shot, too. Sarah had died. I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut.

  “Lili, you need to let it out, girl,” the gargoyle across the cave growled.

  “No,” I whispered.

  The heat seeped into my bones. I opened my eyes. Expecting the first emotion to be either grief or denial, I was taken by surprise when a flaming anger broiled in the pit of my stomach. The sensation of burning swept over every inch of me—far hotter than the hotspring’s water. Taking on a life of its own, the sensation coiled around my core. The surface of the pool seemed to glow red.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dressed in the new clothes Sarah had bought me, I walked through the forest next to Oscar the gargoyle. I’d finally told him everything that had happened yesterday. Retelling the horrific tragedy only solidified the anger inside of me. I kept it locked up deep in my chest.

  Morning light shone through the evergreen branches, reflecting off the snow. We were somewhere in the Mount Hood National Forest. Being up on the mountain again put me on edge. Not too far from here was the cabin where my life had changed forever.

  Seeing Oscar in daylight was kind of odd. He seemed out of place; a seven foot tall demonic dog-faced creature plodding through the woods. Wings folded against his grey stone-like back. Oh yeah, and the claws. I really hoped we didn’t happen upon any skiers.

  “I thought gargoyles couldn’t be out in the daylight—or is that only vampires?” I said.

  Oscar glanced down at me with familiar blue eyes in his snouted face. “They can’t, they turn to stone. I’m only half gargoyle. Called a garanth”

  “Well that’s a perk, I guess.” The snow made crunching sounds with each step.

  He laughed, a gravely sound. “You know nothing about nothing, Lili-girl. Perk? I’ll tell you about the perks. I can fly, am stronger than most creatures, can change form whenever I want, and have the gift of protection. Not being full gargoyle means I can be out in daylight and am not tied to any particular location.”

  I gazed up at him, shielding my eyes from the sun. “And breathe fire? What’s that all about?”

  “So ya saw that last night?”

  I nodded.

  “One myth of gargoyles is that they were originally fire-breathing dragons. Some dude killed one, cut off its head, and made an aqueduct out of it to quench the flames. Guess some part of that is true.”

  I’d never heard that story about gargoyles before, but I was way out of the loop on myth versus reality. “Fire breathing is cool. Overall, sounds like a great life.”

  “Not so bad.”

  I had to ask. “Then why are you homeless and in a wheelchair?”

  Oscar was silent for a moment. “I’m not. The world is my home. Under that bridge. In this forest. I’m free.”

  He had a point. We were so far off any beaten paths that I hadn’t seen any signs that normal people ever came up here. No footprints, no trash, not even a distance car sound.

  “And the wheelchair?”

  “Downside to being a garanth. In human form my legs are twisted, been that way since birth. And I’m old. Eighty-eight is ancient for a garanth, but it’s my human body that feels so old.”

  “Why don’t you find a place to live where you can be a garanth all the time?” I asked. “Why even be human?”

  “Problem is, I like to meet people, despite what I put on.” He bared his sharp teeth. “Even homeless on the streets feels more connected to me than holing up as a garanth someplace. The isolation and loneliness don’t appeal to me. Only problem is, once people find out what I am, they leave.”

  So he did get along with people, until he scared them away. That was so sad. What a lonely life.

  A wild thought occurred to me. “Aren’t there other garanths?”

  He shrugged. “I prefer the company of humans. Even if they don’t prefer mine.”

  “So you fly around the city rescuing damsels like me. Oh, and killing criminals, leaving their bodies in the street. Is that how you meet people?” It came out much harsher than intended. “I’m not complaining. Thank you for rescuing me.” I chewed on my thumb nail.

  Oscar shrugged again. “I know that seems awful to you, but I try my best to keep the streets safer. Whatever the cost. Had you been a normal girl, I’d have gotten you back home or where ever you needed to go. But turned out you aren’t.”

  “Wait, you didn’t know I was different? You thought I was human?” I eyed him.

  “I thought ya were human, yes.”

  “Huh. I guess it surprised both of u
s.”

  We walked downhill in silence for a few seconds before Oscar said, “After all’s said, I’m glad I found you before one of the others out there did.”

  My brows pulled together. “Like who?”

  Two birds flew out of a nearby tree, one chasing the other. They swooped through the crisp winter air around us.

  “Well, there are those that would have taken advantage of you in any way that they could. Not all like us are nice.” He shooed one of the birds as it tried to land on his shoulder. “Better to not trust any of them actually.”

  “Even Edgar?”

  He gave me a knowing glance. “Especially Edgar.”

  “What is he?” I asked, at the risk of showing too much interest.

  “Mmm, a dhampir.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Something to stay away from.”

  The bird came back for another pass, Oscar fluttered his wings to scare it off.

  My wings throbbed and I swear I could feel them growing with each step down the hill. That reminded me to ask: “How am I going to hide my wings when they’re fully grown?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t worry. Angel wings fold up real small, almost flat against your back. You’ll be able to wear a T-shirt and keep them hidden. Not so bad.”

  Not so bad…I guess. We walked in silence for a while. The snow crunching and squeaking under my boots. His paws leaving giant, deep, dog-like prints behind him.

  I swallowed hard. “Why is that man trying to kill me?”

  “That’s a long and complicated story. But I’d say it’s time you heard it.” Oscar halted. “Let’s sit under that big tree.”

  The tree was actually a group of close growing cedars with a carpet of needles under them and no snow. I sat on the ground and took a protein bar out of my backpack. My stomach growled, but I fiddled with the wrapper—not particularly in the mood to eat.

  Oscar squatted on his haunches across from me. “This story begins so long ago that no one really knows its beginning.”

  “You’re not really going to tell me the whole story like that are you?” I sighed.