by Nina Walker
And that’s exactly what happens.
When I arrive at the party, I make polite small talk with the girls and flirt with the guys. It’s really fun! There’s this one guy in particular that catches my eye the moment I see him. Honest to God, it’s like time stops when our eyes meet. And he walks right to me and introduces himself. He’s the fraternity president but he seems so serious and smart, too. I like that about him. Plus, he’s really cute. We dance and hang out for a while, but he never makes a move which makes me like him even more. He’s respectful and that’s what I look for in a guy.
It gets late and soon the party empties. I’m getting tired and have a 7a.m. yoga class planned. It will only be a ten minute walk back to the dorms, five if I hurry. My new friend says he wants to walk me home but I know if he does, he’ll kiss me. I can tell just by looking at him. And I want to keep him waiting. Not too long, of course. But I don’t want to give him the wrong impression about me. So I leave alone, sticking to the lighted paths as I walk back. A few students mill about, but I mostly ignore them.
I’m still thinking about him, a huge smile plastered across my face, when it happens. It’s so fast. Footsteps rush and someone grabs me from behind. They push me to the concrete and my face hits it first. Pain explodes along my jaw. A hand quickly locks over my mouth and another hand wraps around my waist. I try to scream, but I can’t get much sound out. I can taste blood on my tongue. And the skin of this stranger’s hand.
Terror pours through my every cell as I’m lifted and blindfolded. I’m kicking and arching and desperate to get away, but whoever this is, he’s so much bigger than me. And I can’t see a thing. For the briefest of seconds, the pressing hand lets go of my mouth. I scream. But something is stuffed into my mouth and then duct tape is pressed on top of that. Tears stream down my face. My heart pounds out of my chest.
This can’t be happening. This can’t be real!
I’m carried away. Thrown into the trunk of a car. Just as he’s shutting me in, I catch sight of his eyes. They’re black––dead black––like his pupils have blown all the way to the edges, covering any trace of white. I can’t understand it. I’ve never seen anything like that before. It’s evil. Pure evil.
The rest? It’s forgotten. A stain on my memory. When I wake up, I don’t have a body. I’m a spirit, floating over a lake, confused, angry, and panicked. And there’s nothing I can do about it. I stick around for a while, until I finally get the nerve to roam the nearby town where I was supposed to spend the best years of my life. I go back to the lake and I watch as they pull my body from it days later.
And still, there’s nothing I can do. I’m stuck in a loop of the terror. It’s all I can think about. The images consume me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know who murdered me or why or what those black eyes meant.
“Hazel!” Hands are wrapping something around my neck and a voice is yelling my name over and over again. I cough and wake up. My face is wet. I wipe away tears with shaking hands, hands that I can’t control. I don’t think. I just crawl into Dean’s lap and sob.
“What happened, Hazel? What did you see?” He runs a warm hand over my hair. My mind is blank. Everything is numb. I don’t even want to think about it. I can’t go back there. I’m so cold, like I’d been the one stuck at the bottom of the lake. Dean’s inner fire is the only thing I can cling to for warmth.
“Did you see Khali again? Is she okay?”
Reality settles over me, and I crawl off him to sit back on my end of the couch. Dean is so eager, and I hate to disappoint him, but I am never taking the necklace off again around him. He must have put it back on when I was in the middle of that horrid experience, because it’s once again secured around my neck. I grip at it like it’s my lifeline to sanity. Which at this point, it basically is. When I took it off at The Flowering Chakra, I never got any sort of reaction like this.
“I’m sorry,” I say between ragged breaths. “I didn’t see anything of Khali or dragons.”
“Then what did you see?” he asks, confused.
I don’t want to say it. My eyes well up again, and the memory is so alive in my mind that I can’t shut it off, but I force the words out anyway, “I saw that freshman girl who died the first week of school. No, I didn’t just see her, I was her. I felt it all. She went to a party and walked home alone. While she was walking, she was attacked from behind. The man”—the tears are heavy now—“he bound and gagged her and then put her in his car. She never saw or heard him. And then she was dead, her body thrown into that horrible lake.”
All color has washed from Dean’s face as he stares at me. “You said you were chased in broad daylight yesterday? Do you think it could have been the same guy?”
I want to say no. But I can’t help but wonder if this is part of why Katherine keeps coming to me. “It could be. This guy had black eyes and I couldn’t see my attacker’s eyes.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that his pupils were completely blown, like he was on drugs or something. But it was more than that. The black covered all whites of his eyes, too. That’s not possible, right? Could it have something to do with magic? Or your dragons?”
“I’m taking you home,” Dean says. “You’ve had enough stress for one day. We can worry about my stuff later. Besides, you have a class this afternoon to get to and so do I. Midterms are coming up next week so I just want you to worry about staying safe and I’ll worry about finding this guy.” There’s something more he’s not adding and I think it has to do with the blacked-out eyes and my questions. I want to scream at him, to demand he tell me what he knows. But I don’t because I’m afraid of what I might hear.
My voice sounds hollow and far away when I say thanks and stand. I doubt I’ll be going to any more classes today.
“Wait, don’t you want me to try again? Try to find out who that dragon is?”
He shakes his head. “Not right now. I can’t do that to you again.” He points to my necklace. “Keep that thing on.”
Dean drives me to my dorm. It’s not far, but I’m still shaky and he insists. He doesn’t tell me anything more about himself. Just before I get out of the car, I asked if there were more dragon shifters like him. I’ve been wanting to ask him about it since the second he shifted for me.
“Yes. But they are not here in this human realm. Like I said, I’m the only one.”
Human realm? I’m not sure what that means exactly, but just the thought of other realms makes me shiver.
I want to see him shift again, want to know more about him and the shifters. I want to know what he thinks about the black eyes. I want to know everything, but it feels like as soon as I get one question answered, a dozen more pop up. I realize that I’m basically living in my very own young adult novel at this point, and I need to find out what’s going to happen next. But it’s true that midterms are coming up and Dean and I both need to study. Not to mention, I need to get those horrible images scrubbed from my mind. Katherine wants me to help her, but I don’t know how I possibly can. I don’t know who attacked her. I don’t know how to send her to the next life. I don’t know anything.
I stand in my dorm room, staring at myself in the mirror, failing to drudge up the motivation needed to get my butt to my afternoon class, when a knock sounds on my door.
“Open up, Hazel.” Cora’s voice filters in from the other side of the wood. “I know you’re in there. I can see your shadow.”
“I’m worried about you,” Macy adds in a softer voice.
“And I’m wanting the dirt on what happened with Dean.” Cora laughs.
I pad to the door and open it. I don’t know what I’ll say to them. They’d never understand if I told them everything. Besides, there’s so much about me that I’ve kept from them. I’ve been so fearful that if I told them the truth about what I can do, they wouldn’t want to be friends with me anymore. That’s always what I experienced back home in Ohio. They know
I work at The Flowering Chakra, but they don’t know I do anything besides stock shelves and ring up customers. If I tell them the truth, will they still love me?
The second they see me, they must know something is wrong, because they rush in and hug me on both sides. I sink into them, trying not to cry.
“Oh, hon, it’s okay,” Cora mumbles into my hair. Her vanilla scent wraps around me.
“What happened?” Macy asks gently.
I step away and close the door, ushering them to sit on my bed. My room is a tiny box but at least it’s private. The bathroom and showers are shared and down the hallway. All that’s in here is a tiny closet and a chest of drawers, a twin bed, and a desk. But I’ve decorated what I can in my favorite colors, forest green and lilac. And being in the familiar environment settles me enough to tell them the truth.
I leave out Dean’s secret, of course, but I tell them all about my gift and about Katherine. I explain what happened today, that I sneaked into Dean’s place but didn’t find anything. That he caught me on his security camera and confronted me. But that after we talked, I trust him and I don’t think he’s responsible for the missing girls. I tell them about how I took off my obsidian necklace and got flooded with images, and how Katherine came to me and showed me what happened to her.
By the end, their jaws are practically on the floor.
But they don’t mock me or doubt me. They don’t leave or laugh. They believe me. And that alone makes me love them even more than I already do. I’ve always wanted friends like this. Now that they’re mine, I’m terrified I’ll lose them. So I take a deep breath and tell them all about almost being attacked yesterday. Macy starts crying. Cora cusses and stomps her foot.
They get it. They understand why the fear is so real for me.
I beg them not to go to any more frat parties, not to go anywhere alone, and to be extra careful. When they agree, it’s my turn to start crying. Again! It feels good not to have to keep this to myself anymore, to have more people to share my burdens with. But somehow, even with the cathartic crying and the confessions, I still don’t feel any better. Because somehow, I know this is far from over.
“Hazel, we have something to tell you,” Cora says. She looks as if she’s about to cry.
“What is it?” I ask. When they hesitate, I fold my arms and raise my eyebrows. “Just tell me. I can take it.”
Cora and Macy exchange a worried look but then Cora finishes her thought anyway, “Another one of the freshman girls went missing yesterday. They already found her body. She was murdered.”
The world crashes in around me and my breath is knocked out of me. This is number five in two years, but these deaths are occurring at a much faster rate and whoever is killing people isn’t afraid to keep acting. I pull my friends into a tight hug, the three of us a tangle of limbs and shaky fear. How much longer until it’s one of us?
24
Khali
“Traveling with you is proving to be an education at our expense.” Bram glares at Terek.
“That’s an interesting way to put it,” Terek retorts coolly, “because it seems to me that you rather enjoyed kissing your pretty, pretty Princess.”
“Enough,” I cut in sharply. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s eat and get back on our way.”
I expect them to argue, but Bram looks away and Terek busies himself with defeathering the bird. Bronzy feathers go flying, and I try not to gag at the sight of it. I occupy myself with starting a small campfire for Terek to cook on, all the while avoiding Bram’s loaded gaze. I don’t have to be in my dragon form to access my power so I draw on the spark of life within me, pulling it forward and creating a slow burning flame in the palm of my hand.
“That’s not something you see every day,” Terek remarks gleefully.
I shrug and light the kindling and wood, and ten minutes later, lunch is ready.
Terek waves the cooked bird around like a trophy. “You’re welcome!”
“And I can trust it’s safe to eat that?” I raise an eyebrow.
“This is absolutely safe,” Terek purrs. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Ha! More like he can’t lie to me.
I lay out my cape again, sitting on the black velvet. The poor cape is starting to look tattered. The juices run over my fingers and it smells like heaven compared to what I’ve been eating the last few days. I take a bite and groan, it’s so good. Terek also found some purple berries to round off the meal so I plop a couple of those in my mouth. They are sweet as sugar and stain my fingers and lips. I don’t bother with the canteen since I gave it to Bram. All I have to do to get water is draw it out from the petals of nearby flowers with my water elemental. Little watery balls float to me, landing gently on my tongue.
“Such a show off,” Terek teases, but from the way his eyes stay fastened on me, I can tell he’s fiercely intrigued. Maybe it’s foolish to let him see my magic in action, but Bram needs that canteen of water more than I do. Bram, of course, doesn’t eat the elf’s food. He sticks to the provisions we brought from home.
We finish and clean up, and I try not to look at the flowers or breathe them in too deeply. My heart still feels like it’s a feather floating on the breeze. We set off again and this time Terek leads us along a forest path that he promises will veer us around the village so we won’t have any run-ins there. It adds an extra hour onto our journey, but according to Bram, we’re going in the right direction, so neither of us offers any complaints.
All the while, the feel of Bram’s lips lingers on mine, an imprint, a tattoo that won’t go away, devouring my every thought. His scent lingers with me, too, even though he’s not walking close enough for that to be why it follows me. We don’t look at each other, don’t make eye contact. It’s too strange, everything between us has changed and I don’t know what to do about that. Questions whirl around in my brain, a cyclone of them that are better left unanswered. Bram can’t be caught kissing me ever again. And besides, it’s not like that. I don’t have romantic feelings towards him and he isn’t interested, either.
Terek’s odd feline tendencies continue as we travel, and I can’t help but wonder if they have something to do with the Occultists. Fae shouldn’t act like this. They might be born with some animalistic features, but their behavior has always been reported as being just as human as the dragon shifters. As I’m considering how to ask Terek about it, he crouches and growls, pulling out his bow.
The fire burns under my palms. In the space of a breath, I’m ready to fight.
“There, there, little kitty cat,” a silvery voice whispers from behind the thick trees. “I’m not here to hurt you, as much as I would enjoy it.”
Terek hisses, primed to release his arrow.
“You are a hard one to track.” The man attached to the voice steps out from hiding. “But I would expect nothing less.”
I immediately recognize him as a Sovereign Occultist from the heavy crimson robe with black embroidered symbols that hangs off his thin frame. His face is ageless and white as porcelain. And his eyes, they glow red as freshly spilled blood. His appearance blends right in with everything I’ve heard of the powerful cult of warlocks that have terrorized Eridas. I’ve never seen one in person and never wanted to. Needle-like terror prickles over my body. Their magic is unlike mine, but just as powerful if not more so. Where I draw from the elements of nature, the occultists deal in black magic, ancient oaths, and blood sacrifice.
“And I see you brought some friends.” He sounds pleased. Pale, long fingers remove his hood, revealing his sickly smile. He could be my age, or middle aged, or he could be a thousand years old, there’s no way to tell. The warlock’s features drip in agelessness and eternal damnation. His red eyes travel from me, to Bram, and back again.
“Leave them out of this,” Terek snarls as he loosens the arrow. It shoots straight at the man, swift as a heartbeat, but with only a flick of the Occultist’s eyes, the arrow turns at a ninety degree angle and embeds into the trunk
of a tree.
“Uh, uh, uh,” the man chastises. “Do that again, Catboy, and I will turn your little arrows back on you.”
“Your quarrel is with Terek, not with us,” Bram speaks up, his voice strong but cordial. “Please, let my friend and I pass and we will be on our way.”
Terek shoots Bram a hurt glare, and once again, the Occultist smiles that sickly sweet grin. A long row of perfectly white, square teeth glint in the afternoon sun. He looks so human, almost normal. A chill runs through my bones. Something isn’t right about him. I can sense an evil darkness radiating from him and I don’t know what to do. I call on my magic, bringing it under my surface, should I need to use it.
“I would be remiss if I didn’t introduce myself to a Prince of Drakenon,” the devilish man says, drawing the words out like a sharp dagger across a soft throat. His eyes land on me. “And to Khali, the future queen of Drakenon.”
We fall into silence, the pressure building.
It was one thing to be recognized by a Fae, but by an Occultist? This won’t end well.
“Then again,” he says, gliding forward, his height seeming to grow. “I have met Khali once before.” Those bloodied eyes lock me in. “Not that you would remember.” My mind is whirling, trying to grasp what this could mean. “You were an infant.” A cruel shadow passes over his eyes. “And I spelled you to sleep through it. Tell me, Princess, have you noticed anything strange happening to your magic recently?”
I suck in a breath, memories of my magic failing me coming to mind. Is it possible I’ve met this horrid creature before? And if so, what does it have to do with my magic? I let the possibility of it settle in. A strange sense of déjà vu and a keen awareness that I can’t quite place takes over. Deep in my bones, I know he speaks the truth.