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Jade Moon (Celestial War Book 1)

Page 10

by Julia Richards


  “Yeah, but how? Where do you think they took her?”

  The reality of everything hit me and I rocked forward, putting my throbbing head into my lap. I couldn’t hold back the tears as I thought about everything my mom had said to me. The warnings. The fear. Why didn’t I listen? I was out hoping to get my first kiss while my mom was being hunted by lunatics.

  “I have no idea how to find her.” A wave of despair washed over me.

  I looked down at the book she had dropped on the floor. Sticking out of the top was an envelope. With shaking hands I slid it out. On the front, in mom’s scrawling handwriting, was my name.

  I was crying so hard snot dribbled from my nose. I wiped it with my coat sleeve and fumbled the envelope open. Inside was a ridiculous birthday card. Mom knew I found store-bought cards hilarious, too cheesy for words. She had found a super special one with glittery balloons under a skittles rainbow with the words Happy Birthday in bubble letters. I hiccuped a laugh. Mom.

  I let it fall open. Inside was a black credit card with my name on it.

  The note she had written inside said, “My dear Wren.” I had to stop reading. She’d been calling me Wren so much lately. Gathering myself, I read the rest, “For your seventeenth birthday I’m giving you this credit card linked to an account your father left for you. He asked me to give it to you when you were old enough to be responsible. You’ve grown into such a wonderful, mature, brilliant, beautiful person. He is as proud of you as I am every day.”

  I would have said I couldn’t cry harder, but she never spoke of my father and the idea that he would have been proud of me seemed like a cruel joke. I had let mom down. I hadn’t been here to help when she needed me the most.

  The note continued, “All the love in my heart. Mom.”

  Raf, hand still on my arm, asked, “It’s your birthday?”

  I looked up at the clock. 3:30 AM.

  For some reason, Raf tilted sideways. I remember thinking, why is Raf falling over? And then I hit the floor.

  Dream

  The dream wasn’t new. I’d had it often starting right around the time we fled to Belize. Not long after I saw my dad for the last time.

  Just fragmented images from a child’s memory. In it, my dad seems huge, like a giant towering over me. Broad shoulders. Black tattoos on coppery skin. Frizzy brown curls just like mine. A smile that made me feel like the most important person in the universe.

  In the dream, he kneels in front of me, holding something in his hands. I can’t see what it is. It glows with such a bright light it simply looks like he is holding the sun.

  With that smile on his face, he leans in and looks deep into my eyes. “Harper Dae, I love you my little wren. This is for you. Remember who you really are.”

  ***

  When I woke, paste coated my lips and a bolt of pain shot from my temples as I sat up. The night’s events flooded back and I felt a wave of despair. I looked around at the huge bedroom, where in the hell? Canopied king bed, massive pillows, art and tapestries on the wall.

  Across the shinny wooden floor, a change of clothes, my backpack, and fluffy towel sat on a weird little half-sofa thing. I swung my feet out of bed and noticed that I’d slept in my boots. Normally that would have been embarrassing, but at that moment I could’t have cared less.

  My mom was gone. Panic rose to my chest until I remembered Raf. This must be Raf’s house. Did he bring me here?

  My body screamed in agony and dried blood coated the entire left side of my body. My blood no doubt. Between my bloody tongue and what must have been a hell of a head wound, I was in terrible shape. I moved slowly to gather the towel, my brain pounding against my head to get out. Peeking through doorways, I found a bathroom. Ignoring the pool-sized tub, I turned on the cavernous shower and stood under scalding hot water replaying the two men grabbing my mom over and over again.

  “They took my mom.” I finally said out loud to myself.

  “There really was someone we’ve been running from. We were being hunted, so now it’s time to think that way. I need to be way more careful. I’m going to figure out who did this.”

  I paused. “I’m going to save my mom and make them sorry they ever heard the name Harper Dae!” I had visions of storming some compound, guns blazing, feral scream of righteous fury on my lips. I imagined crimson robed men cowering before my rage.

  But that fantasy quickly crashed and burned. I was a teenager, alone in a foreign place, with no real friends excepting maybe Raf. I had no resources. A crap apartment paid up through the end of the month. No car. No adults to trust. No idea where to start. Plus, no guns to blaze, no fancy martial arts training to show off.

  I wanted to have that power, to be strong enough. Instead I was a barely seventeen year old girl with nothing but a threadbare jacket and a friend I barely knew well enough to ask for a ride let alone help me track down a violent group of some evil secret society.

  Stepping out into the steam, I looked in the mirror and winced at the colorful bruise running along my jaw and cheek. Already purplish, it looked like I had gone ten rounds with an anvil. Fortunately it didn’t feel half as bad as it looked.

  The clothes folded on the little sofa were mine and I wondered if Raf had been smart enough to grab them, or maybe he’d sent a servant to gather it later. Either way, I was glad to slide into clean clothes, not even caring that he must have seen my granny underwear.

  Out in the hall I followed the scent of food until I found a small sunroom. Raf sat at the table reading. I watched from the hall. He looked like a totally different person. He wore a simple white t-shirt and faded jeans. Without the tension pulling on his face he looked like a hollywood movie star. Then, looking down, I almost laughed out loud at his fuzzy, pale-blue slippers.

  A pug snored loudly at his feet.

  At the sound of my arrival, Raf and his dog looked up.

  “Hey, are you ok?”

  He rushed over to me and the dog jumped up and followed at his heels.

  I nodded. Something about Raf gave me strength. In that moment I decided I really was going to figure out what was happening. I wasn’t just some helpless damsel. I was smart and tough and would do whatever I had to do to save my mom.

  It was a heady feeling.

  “I’m alright. Did I pass out?”

  “You fell over like a sack of bricks. I figured we shouldn’t stay there so I just brought you home. My mom is out of town so no one even knows your here except my dad.”

  The pug came and sniffed around my feet. “And who is this?”

  “That’s Uma, she thinks she’s a doberman.”

  I bent down and offered my hand. The little dog sniffled loudly then rolled over on her back, body wiggling. “I can see she’s a killer attack dog.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Raf said as I scratched her belly.

  After getting a few thank you licks from Uma, I sat and filled my plate with fresh fried bacon, oversized waffles, butter that looked like it had been churned warm from the cow’s teat that morning. The syrup tasted like sweet nirvana. Being rich must have been nice.

  While we ate, Raf’s dad peaked into the solarium. “This your new friend?” he asked, painfully hopeful. I could see where Raf got his looks. Mr. Aracan was tall and lean, but with a strong, kind face.

  “Yes, dad, a friend. This is Harper Dae.” He emphasized friend and Mr. Aracan and I both frowned slightly.

  “Yeah, sorry Raf. Nice to meet you Harper.” He sighed ever so slightly. “Didn’t want to intrude, just letting you know that mom got caught up in Paris and won’t be home until tomorrow night. Also, don’t tell your mother, but the new shipment came.”

  After his dad left, Raf looked slightly embarrassed. “Dad doesn’t have much say around here. He’s the Mexican diplomat to America, Mr. Important. But, here at home…he’s second fiddle to Mom. Or maybe tenth fiddle, and mom is fiddles one through nine.”

  We lapsed into silence. “New shipment?” I asked, curiosity gett
ing the better of me.

  He blushed. “Art supplies. It’s one of the things my mom most hates about me. That I’m an artist.”

  “Holy crap, Raf. I saw one sketch of your and can tell you’re crazy talented.” I gave him a reassuring smile.

  He just shook his head and I let it go.

  After washing everything down with fresh-squeezed orange juice, I changed the clearly uncomfortable subject, “I’m going to find them, Raf. I’m going to find my mom. If she’s still…” I couldn’t say alive. “If she okay, I’m going to save her. I don’t know where else to start. We need to go to school.”

  Raf’s grey eyes glowed in the sunlight shining through the wall of windows. He looked intense. “I’m in, Harper.”

  “It’s going to be dangerous.”

  “I know. Hell I was thinking of jumping off the school two nights ago. Maybe this will be my war zone where I can die doing something worthwhile. I’d be the first time in my life I did something real.”

  “That’s not even funny.”

  “Didn’t mean it to be.”

  “Thank you,” was all I could manage to croak. The idea of not being totally alone made everything seem less daunting.

  “Where do we begin?” Raf asked.

  “Hell if I know. Did you call Mambo?”

  “I did. No answer. I also called Mr. Wattana. He’s missing as of yesterday.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah, what the hell. Half the adults in Waterford are missing and no one seems to notice?”

  “Then I guess school it is. It’s the only place I know for sure there are Lunates. Plus, there’s obviously something happening there. Maybe we can find a clue somehow.”

  “So, we go and pretend everything is peachy. See what intel we can gather?”

  “Intel?”

  “Yeah, intelligence. Like spies.”

  I huffed, “Yeah, like spies. Have I mentioned how bad I am at lying.”

  Raf’s eyes were filled with sorrow, “Sadly, I’m really good at is. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

  On that depressing note, we got ready and headed into the belly of the beast.

  ***

  We sat in Raf’s car in the parking lot. We’d missed first period and planned to head in at the second bell.

  “I want to start in the library. If I can’t find anything there, then maybe the janitor’s shed. Otherwise, I think we might need to break in tonight and search offices.”

  “I agree, library first. Let’s split up and meet in the library in a hour? That way we can get visual on different hallways. Double our ability to see if anything is amiss.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  The bell rang. We looked at each other for a second, then got out of the car.

  At the bottom of the main stairs, I made a right and Raf made a left. Trying to stroll casually, I pulled my backpack tight against me. My entire body must have screamed tension because even the usual taunts didn’t happen. No one was calling me stairs-girl. No one was asking about my suspension. Why was everyone staring at me like I’d sprouted a third head?

  My bruised face! How could I have forgotten about the massive bruise?

  I tucked my chin down against my chest, hoping to make it to the library without getting too much more attention. The last thing I wanted was for the rumor mill to churn into high gear with my name on everyones lips just when I was hoping to blend in.

  I passed Olivia in the hall and braced for some kind of snide remark, especially after seeing her in such a bad state in the bathroom a few days before.

  She gasped and stared at me as I passed. But without the malice I’d seen before. I kept walking, ignoring her.

  “Hey,” she called to me, “Stairs-girl…I mean, Harper.”

  “I’m not in the mood, Olivia.”

  “No, I know. I mean. I’m not…” She let out an exasperated sound. “Would you please stop walking.”

  I stopped and turned to face her. She examined me for a second, her face pinched. “You need some makeup. Come here.” She hooked a cashmere clad arm through mine and dragged me toward the bathroom.

  “What?” I tried to pull away.

  She pointed to my face. “You can’t just walk around school like that. Whoever did it will…will know. What if they get mad?”

  I was about to protest. Remembering her own bruise, I realized she must be an expert at hiding such things. For a second the possible culprits floated around. Her father? Boyfriend? Teacher even? What a terrible thought. Then it occurred to me that she was right. If Raf and I were spies gathering intel, then I needed to hide my battle wounds.

  “Do you have something I can use?” I asked her feeling very out of my league. Of the many things I learned in the jungles of Belize, how to apply makeup was not one of them. I didn’t even own lip gloss.

  “Of course I do.” She pulled me into the bathroom, flopped open her huge, designer purse, and positioned me facing her next to the sink. The next bell rang but she didn’t even pause. For almost twenty minutes, Olivia pulled out jars and tubes of things I had no clue what they were, smearing this and that all over my face. When she finished neither of us said a word.

  She turned me to look in the mirror. I’ll admit, it looked kind of amazing. I could tell I was wearing makeup, but everything looked slightly more bright and clean. Kind of creepy really, but not a hint of bruise remained.

  Olivia expertly put everything away, gave me a curt nod, then walked away.

  I stood in stunned silence for another minute, gathered my wits, and headed out into the now empty hall.

  Skulking along the lockers I tried to make it the rest of the way to the library. I was moving fast, trying not to imagine where my mom was. What horrible things might be happening to her. As I fretted, Mrs. Louie stepped out into the hall, blocking my path.

  “Harper Dae. What are you up to?” She squinted at me looking down her sharply hooked nose.

  “I’m…” I probably should have come up with a cover story just in case. Professional spy, I am not. “I’m…”

  “Oh spare me whatever lie you’re formulating. Are you looking for Martin?” I saw genuine concern in her eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “Then carry on, Ms. Dae. Carry on.” She stepped aside and bowed, allowing me to pass. Mr. Silver was right, things are not always what they seem.

  I hustled to the library and walked cautiously through the sliding doors. Raf stood talking to someone at the front desk, blocking their view of the entry. He waved his hand behind him, gesturing for me to sneak by while he distracted whoever it was.

  Dropping to my hands and knees I skittered toward the stacks. Out of sight from the front desk, I stood up and moved as quickly as I could to the infamous dead-end hallway.

  Just as I turned down the curving hallway I heard whispering voices and I hit the floor so hard I let out an involuntary ooof. Brilliant.

  “Did you hear that?” a male voice whispered.

  “No, what did you hear?” a woman answered.

  “I don’t know, hang on.” Shuffling footsteps moved toward me.

  I was sprawled out on the floor just around the corner. The second they stepped out, they would see me in the florescent light. I frantically rolled sideways toward a display table against the wall. My body barely fit underneath but I squeezed in just in time to watch brown leather shoes squeak by. Though I could only see pant cuffs and shoes, I knew it was sir-Santa himself, Vice-Principal Ransom.

  I tried to quiet my breath, certain my panting would give me away even if he couldn’t see me huddled under the narrow shelf.

  Mr. Ransom walked out into the main part of the library and made a slow 360 degree turn, his own breath huffing with concentration. His eyes slid right over where I was smooshed. As he continued to turn, I let out shaky breath of relief and it was as though he heard it. Mr. Ransom’s eyes snapped back toward where I hid, searching for something. But clearly he still couldn’t see me because he eventually gav
e up and headed back down the hall.

  “I didn’t see anything, but I think we should hold off opening the door. I told her this was a terrible place to hide the entrance. Why not just in my office or something?” Mr. Ransom sounded petulant. I wondered if he was winking at whoever was with him.

  “Oh shut up. We put it here because we all need access. But if you sense something wrong, we should just go. They won’t start without us and we can’t risk being caught right now. There’s too much at stake.”

  Two sets of shoes strode toward me. Mr. Ransom’s faded brown loafers and a set of perfectly prim, open toe heels in spring green. The only adult at school I’d seen with that much style was Mrs. Foster. Sure enough, I saw a prettily tailored pink skirt swishing away. They greeted Raf as they left. He sounded confident, completely mellow.

  Once the doors swished shut, I let my body relax, oozing from underneath the display shelf.

  I wondered if Raf was going to be able to join me. He’d gotten caught up at the front and might not be able to sneak back without a distraction. It occurred to me that I could be that distraction.

  At the desk Raf was still chitchatting with the random student who was clearly happy to have something to do other than just sit there. What on earth had Raf come up with to talk about for so long?

  Alright, distraction…what had I seen on old TV shows? Fire in a trash can seemed dumb. Surely that would bring more people here rather than shoo them away. Same with a fire alarm. We might get a few minutes of peace, but then what? Maybe I could call and pretend to be someone? Call him to the front office? But then he would figure it out and come right back. Or worse, alert someone else.

  Finally I knew what I had to do. Creeping low, I moved around a shelf so I could approach the student from behind. Raf saw me coming and managed not to give away my presence. I raised a heavy book above my head and was about to swing it down when Raf threw up a hand, “Stop!”

  I screeched to a halt. The student spun, staring at me hovering over his head, book raised in a clear act of violence.

 

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