by Jaymin Eve
House of Leights
Secret Keepers Series #3
Jaymin Eve
Jaymin Eve
House of Leights: Secret Keepers Series #3
Copyright © Jaymin Eve 2018
All rights reserved
First published in 2018
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. All characters in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-1722267124
ISBN-10: 1722267127
Contents
Stay in touch
Note from author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
House of Royale
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Jaymin Eve
Stay in touch
Stay in touch with Jaymin: www.facebook.com/JayminEve.Author
Website: www.jaymineve.com
Mailing list: http://eepurl.com/bQw8Kf
For Lola and Silvie.
My sunshine.
Note from author
I changed landmarks, schools, and locations used in this book to fit the story. You should assume all errors were deliberate (even if they weren’t). ;)
1
“Hey, Maya. Wait up!”
At the shout, I swung around to find Brad loping across the front of the redbrick science building, heading for me. As I waited, I shifted my pack to the other shoulder. The thing weighed a freaking ton. The teachers here were taking this “prepare us for college” thing a little too seriously. It made me tired just thinking about the rest of the year. I really just wanted to cheer, hang out with my friends, and occasionally attend school for my senior year. Not cool that the teachers were making it such hard work.
“Sooo…” Brad drawled, stopping in front of me, towering over my five-foot-two frame. “Are you hittin’ up Owens’ party tonight?” His dark brown hair was rumpled, which he did deliberately because he thought it made him look hotter. As usual, his very blue eyes were twinkling.
He was a linebacker for our football team, and he used his height and broad shoulders to pummel the other team. Our team had yet to win a game, but they still gave it their all. Dae Academy was a very small, very exclusive private school in Old Town, Alexandria, Virginia, meaning we had excellent facilities and awesome trainers, but not a lot of students to choose from. They did what they could, though.
Pushing some of my dark hair back, I sighed. “Honestly, I don’t think I’m going to make it.” I pulled a sad face. “I have two quizzes I need to study for, a history assignment which is over three thousand words, and now Mr. Chan wants us to demonstrate our public speaking skills by reciting a twenty-verse poem – without prompt cards.”
My sad face morphed into a pout, something I had perfected long ago. Brad just laughed, used to my antics. We’d been best friends since we were little, and I couldn’t imagine him not being around, which was another huge reason I wasn’t that excited about college. We were not going to end up at the same school. I had to stick around Virginia, as per my parents’ rules, but Brad was looking at Texas U.
“I’m sure you can get all of that work done over the weekend,” he pushed, reaching out to ruffle my hair. “Friday night is for relaxing … it’s like a rule.”
I elbowed him to make him stop ruffling my hair. It took time to get the long, thick strands into order. “I can’t argue with you about the Friday rule, but my parents are really on me about dealing with my college choices.”
“Still have no idea where you’re applying?” His tone was more serious now. He’d heard all my worries before.
“Nope,” I said softly. “Nothing feels right. Nothing fits. I keep hoping something will fall into place, but I’m half contemplating just running away for a gap year.”
It was a lot more than half, actually, but I didn’t want to freak everyone out. I hated the way I always felt so displaced. I tried to do all the “in” things – I was a cheerleader, had great friends, an awesome best friend, rich parents. I had everything. And, for the most part, I enjoyed my life. But there was this … emptiness.
Switching my bag to the other shoulder again, Brad reached out to relieve me of the weight. “Holy shit, girl. What the hell do you have in here, bricks?”
Wrinkling my nose at him, I let out a sigh. “Pretty much. Textbooks should be used to build walls. That would be a better use for them.”
“Come on,” he said as he started to walk. “Gracie will be waiting for you. She hates when you’re late.”
Gracie was my nanny, like a second mother, and she was pretty strict. She expected me out in the parking lot at 3:20 P.M. and not a moment later. That way our chauffeur could beat the majority of school traffic.
I picked up the pace, and Brad easily kept up with me. I had to take three steps to one of his. “Have you asked your ‘rents why they won’t get you a car?” he asked me, before he leapt down a set of five stairs.
I hurried after him, skipping just the bottom two steps. “They told me that we have Bruce to drive everywhere, so I really don’t need to worry about that yet. And my safety or some crap.”
My parents were diplomats. I pretty much knew nothing else about their job, because that knowledge required a clearance level just below God. Or maybe it was above God? Seemed that way at times. Suffice it to say, security was high on their list of priorities. While their jobs sounded cool and provided us with all the material things, it did require them to be away from me a lot, hence the need for Gracie.
Brad had his thinking face on, my bag swinging lightly against his back as he walked. His brow furrowed. “I just wish we knew more about their jobs. Like, they’re legit crazy about security. Extraaa strict. I mean, my parents work for the government, too, but they’ve never been on my case like yours.”
This was true. His parents were pretty relaxed. And while they were gone a lot, it was nothing compared to my parents. Brad was their only child and they indulged him to ridiculous levels. Which meant he was the epitome of a rich playboy: fast car, fast girls, lots of freedom. Under the playboy exterior, though, there was a reliable, loyal, caring friend. So, I forgave the rest. He was definitely the brother I had never had, and without him and Gracie, I would have been a hell of a lot lonelier growing up.
“The extra strict is probably something to do with Mom’s upbringing,” I guessed. “Apparently her parents had a lot of rules, which definitely influenced her way of raising me.”
My mom, Konami Lewis, was second-generation Japanese. It was from her that I got the brown skin tone and long, straight black hair. In most other ways, I looked like my dad, Samson Lewis. He was a blue-eyed, Texas-born Southerner. His family was from old oil money, and they were very proud of their son t
he diplomat. They loved my mom, so the cultural differences never mattered to them.
Mom’s family wasn’t as proud, because we didn’t uphold a lot of Japanese culture in our house anymore, but on the nights Mom was home, we always ate the best food. Homemade sushi, tempura, and edamame. With vegetables only – we were not into the meat thing.
When we reached the parking lot, a familiar black Mercedes was idling in the same spot it always was, dark tint hiding Gracie and Bruce, who I knew were inside.
“So, I’ll pick you up at nine tonight?” Brad said as he handed me my bag back. Before I could protest, he ruffled up my long hair again and strode off toward his Aston Martin. I grumbled while waiting for Bruce to hurry around to open my door. I could have gotten it myself, of course, but he liked to do his job properly. So, I waited.
Bruce and Gracie were two of the five permanent staff my parents employed. I’d known them most of my life and it was a comfort to have some stability. When he reached my side, I smiled, and he gave me a nod in return, always polite. At sixty years old, he was nearing retirement age, and I was afraid that one day soon his kind brown eyes, grizzled face, and wiry salt and pepper hair, would be gone from my life.
“Thanks, Bruce,” I said as I slid inside. He closed the door after me and I settled back into my seat.
If Brad was your typical rich playboy … I wasn’t much better. Spoiled would be an apt description. It was my thing. When I was younger, I’d been into school and grades, but then I discovered friends, and I ditched those “nerdy” things to focus on that part of my life. It took me a long time to realize I was just playing a part. Pretending.
Except for Brad. I never had to pretend with him. He knew about my secret anime obsession, not to mention that I was still waiting on an owl to tell me I was a wizard.
I was coming to realize, though, that it was more than just college choices that confused me. It was the very essence of what made up Maya Lewis.
“How was school?” Gracie asked this same question every day. It was our tradition.
After dropping my bag down, I turned in the leather seat to face her. She had her light blond hair up in a tight ponytail, which made her look younger than her forty-three years. Her hazel eyes were very brown today, only a hint of green, and she wore not a slick of makeup.
“It was hectic,” I said truthfully. “The teachers are piling on the work, and college applications are due or overdue. It’s insane.”
She patted my arm, tilting her head to the side as she gave me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t push yourself so hard that you burn out. Just keep going the way you are.”
The urge to hug her was strong. I had no idea what I would have done without Gracie’s calming presence in my life. Like most kids, I adored and forgave my parents for their flaws. But Gracie was there every day. I was eternally grateful for that, even if she was getting paid to do it.
Her words resonated with me and I made a sudden decision. “Brad wants me to go to a party tonight. I wasn’t planning on it because I have so much work to do … but maybe I should try to relax before jumping into my assignments.”
She nodded, her brow tightening minutely. “Sure, I can cover with your parents.”
Technically, I wasn’t allowed out at night, especially not to parties, but Gracie didn’t agree with keeping me completely locked up. She said she trusted me, and that as long as I never broke that trust by drinking or doing drugs, among other things, she would allow me small freedoms.
For the most part, I never really broke her rules. A few drinks here and there, but I never lost control.
“Especially if Brad is there to keep an eye on you,” she added, turning back to the front and sinking into her seat.
“He’s going to pick me up and drop me back off, so he’ll definitely be keeping an eye on me.”
He’d disappear through the middle of the party, off hooking up with half the cheer squad, most of whom were my friends, but then he’d find me again before we went home. He never left me behind. He was a great friend … and a really shitty boyfriend. Luckily, I’d never had any romantic interest in Brad, because that would have gotten awkward really fast.
Traffic was heavy, but we made it home in decent time. Our mansion was in a gated community on S Lee Street, just a few blocks from the school. It took a minute for the huge front gates to open, and then Bruce drove up the round drive, pulling up at the door to let us out. This was the only house I’d ever lived in: three stories, cream and tan exterior, with brickwork, climbing ivy, and two pillars framing the front entrance.
My room was on the second floor, and I went straight up to ditch my uniform and change into something more comfortable. It had started getting cold last week – the middle of November – so I settled on some jeans, a white, fitted, knit pullover, and my fluffy socks. The dark purple streaks in the end of my hair were very prominent against the white of my top, and I was glad I’d talked my mom into letting me get it done.
My cell rang as I started down the stairs, heading for the kitchen. Whipping it out, I slid my finger across. “Hey, dude. I’m in for tonight.”
Deep laughter came back at me. “I didn’t even need to pull out my persuasive tone of voice,” Brad said.
I scoffed. “You know your tone doesn’t work on me. I’ve seen you naked and covered in paint.”
“I was three,” he said with a huff. “You can’t keep using our childhood against me.”
I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. “Perks of a friendship with me. A lifetime reminder of every mortifying moment you’ve had.”
It sounded like he was counting to ten – there was a lot of breathing – before finally, he said, “I’ll be there later. P.S. you’re a shit friend.” I laughed and we hung up at the same time.
Downstairs, I moved through the wide hallway and into our kitchen. The large room was designed for catering, because on occasion my parents hosted events here for the people they worked with. In secret. Only not always so secret because they all liked to eat hors d’oeuvres together. Francis, our chef, was already at work on dinner, but he’d popped a plate with my favorite afterschool snack on the bench.
“Thanks, Frannie,” I said, snatching up the sandwich.
“Out of here.” He waved me away. “I have dinner to prepare.”
I gave him a wink, because he was a cranky bastard, but he always made me my snack, so I was pretty sure he kind of liked me. Or at least tolerated me. Which for him was a big deal.
I bypassed the formal lounge – no food allowed in there – which was cool with me; I preferred the rumpus room. Gigantic flat screen, a bunch of squishy couches, a mini-fridge for my drinks and snacks, three different gaming consoles and more games than I could count.
What else could a girl need?
As a double bonus, it led into the outdoors games room, which had our pool table, ping pong, and all the pinball machines. The games room opened up to the pool, so ninety percent of the time this is where I hung out with my friends.
As I ate, I tried not to think about all the schoolwork waiting for me upstairs. It felt like a waste. I couldn’t for the life of me decide on a career path I was interested in. I should just pick a college, hopefully get accepted, and then worry about the rest later. That would get my parents off my case. I just … kept waiting for a sign to point me in the right direction.
At some point in my deep contemplation I must have dozed off, because when I opened my eyes again, it was dark. Shit! I jumped up, my eyes flicking across to my watch. 7:15 P.M.
Double shit! I had two hours to get ready for tonight, and considering I hadn’t even showered yet, that was barely going to be enough time. Just my hair took forty minutes to dry and style. I rushed past Gracie as I took the stairs two at a time. “Slow down,” she called after me. “You’re going to break your neck.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I shouted back, almost up the stairs.
Her laughter followed me. “I tried. You were so out o
f it, I figured you needed the rest.”
“Ugh.” I threw my hands in the air and she laughed again.
Running into my room, I was already stripping and flinging clothes around as I crossed to the bathroom. Quickest shower in history, shaved my legs and all the other hairy essentials. I might meet my soul mate tonight. Always had to be prepared for that.
Once I was out, I battled with the hair dryer. Having hair almost to my waist was a real pain at times, but I couldn’t imagine cutting it. My childhood goal had been to be Rapunzel when I grew up, and I’d given it my best shot. I no longer wanted her life, though, thanks to Brad who had almost scalped me when we were ten by trying to use my hair to climb over a fence.
When my hair was dry, hanging in thick lengths over my shoulders, I used a bit of product to keep it smooth and shiny. Then it was makeup time. The winged eyeliner took me the longest, but after all the years of practice, I had a very firm hand. Within fifteen minutes, my almond-shaped eyes were lined, mascaraed, shadowed, and … I was ready to go.
I expected Brad to be waiting for me when I got downstairs, but apparently he was late, too. I really shouldn’t be surprised; he spent almost as long on his hair as I did. Gracie strolled out of her office, a small room off the formal living area where she did all of the coordination of schedules and other bits and pieces for the entire family. “Have you got everything?” she asked, looking over my outfit.