Shine: Season One (Shine Season Book 1)

by William Bernhardt

  “I love cats,” Baby said, stroking Nero from his nose to his forehead. “I can’t believe she said yes. First you beat Aria, now you convince Ms. Klein to let you keep some guy’s cat.” The girl shook her head.

  “I still need to help Derrick.”

  “Don’t even think about it, Cassie. Ms. Klein said no. We have it pretty good here. Don’t screw things up.”

  But she thought about it. All through dinner, while she fed bits of her poached salmon to Nero, she thought about the underground room behind the hidden panel with the tunnel. She didn’t know where she would emerge, where Derrick was being held, or how she would get to him. She had Nero, though, and if the cat could find her, surely he could lead her to Derrick.

  She maintained conversations through group free time and smiled through the unending squeals of delight Nero provoked. Though the cat tolerated the petting and coddling, he would not allow anyone to remove him from her arm.

  Finally, the girls dispersed to separate rooms. At lights out, she listened for Baby’s even breathing and soft snores.

  The moment she sat up, Nero, also wide-awake and apparently aware of her plans, sprang into her good arm. How did the cat know? She didn’t have time to question it for long. She needed to move and get as far away as possible before morning. She wanted a head start before Ms. Klein came searching for her.

  She moved without a sound, marveling at how well she could see in the darkness. This was new—she’d never had night vision so clear. Nero strained forward, watchful but silent.

  She set him down to free her good hand. The hall closet hinges squeaked when she opened the door, but no one responded. She stepped inside and searched for a trigger to spring the hidden compartment. She had no idea what she was searching for. All she knew was which panel hid the passageway.

  Come on, where is it? She ran her hand over the wall, felt the edges, the corners. Just smooth wall. Nothing to press or push or squeeze. Nothing.

  A light switched on as a hand closed over her arm.

  Ms. Klein scowled. “Oh, no you don’t. I have other plans for you.”

  Episode Ten

  Never Say Reven

  by Tamara Grantham

  CHAPTER ONE

  I stripped off my stilettos and pulled on my combat boots. I didn’t have time to change my prom dress. Silver satin rustled as I cinched my laces. In the ballroom next door, cheers erupted as the student body elected a new prom queen.

  “June Brighton,” I heard Principal Evans call.

  The cheers continued. How long would it take them to realize I’d disappeared?

  “June Brighton,” the principal repeated.

  I winced as he said my name. Being prom queen made my life more complicated. I’d never admit it to anyone, but I felt grateful that the Revens picked tonight to prowl. I had an excuse to avoid all the attention. I wasn’t sure why I felt that way. I wasn’t sure of a lot of things, except that right now, I had to stop the Revens.

  “June, where are you?”

  The cheers quieted. I almost wanted to go over there so I could end the awkward silence, but thought better of it.

  I stood and smoothed my gown. I’d found the pattern three years ago and knew this would be my prom dress. Half my summer savings went into buying the material.

  This gown was every little girl’s dream. Layers of ivory and silver satin hugged the bodice. Rhinestones sparkled around the sheer sleeves and scooped neckline. It took me hours to stitch the tiny beads into place. The tiered ruffled skirt flowed to my knees in waves of shimmering taffeta.

  But that wasn’t the only reason I’d sewn it myself. I had to make sure the dress was practical. Mom had found some military-grade Kevlar at a surplus store. I’d reinforced the bodice with the body armor, layered the underskirt with a durable polyester blend, even sewn an extra pocket for my knife.

  I pulled out my dagger. The familiar pearl handle conformed to my palm. Naomi’s text said the Revens were gathering on the roof. They wouldn’t get away this time. I sighed as I stared at my gown. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. But there was no way I could take down a Reven in this skirt.

  I gripped my knife and cut through the fabric around my knees. I sawed at the material until I’d made an ugly serrated gash. I ripped the skirt off, transforming my floor-length gown into a tatty, knee-length skirt. This looked so much easier in the movies, and much more elegant. My heart gave a painful thump as I found the nearest trash can and disposed of the fabric.

  Regret nagged at me. I should’ve just made it knee-length in the first place. But my stupid sense of fashion had overridden my rational thoughts. No use crying about it now.

  I crept to the dressing room’s door and peeked outside.

  Hotel LaBelle is one of the nicer places to stay in Manhattan. My high school doesn’t like to play it cheap. They book the place every year. Tiny chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Plush carpeting covered the hallway’s floor. Lucky for me, the carpet would muffle the sound of my clunky boots.

  The hallway was empty, so I snuck outside.

  In the ballroom, I heard Principal Evans on the microphone. “If anyone sees June, tell her she’s our new prom queen.”

  Nervous laughter filled the silence.

  “Blake, looks like you’ll have to ask someone else to dance.”

  More laughter.

  I’m sure Blake would hate me for putting him through this. He’d get over it. He enjoyed the spotlight so much he probably wouldn’t even notice that I was gone.

  I stopped at the end of the hallway and found the stairwell. After climbing up the stairway, I stood on the seventeenth floor. This building was twenty-one stories tall. Four more flights and I’d find the Revens. Assuming they didn’t find me first.

  I took the stairs by two. Blood circulated through my body, fueling my movements.

  Three flights to go.

  Then two.

  I made it to the top floor and found the exit to the roof.

  Blood whirred in my eardrums as I crouched beside the door leading outside. City lights glowed through the door’s narrow window. I peeked out, searching for movement.

  A shadow darted behind an air conditioning unit. I scrutinized the area. Metal boxes and wooden water towers crowded the roof. Lots of places to hide. This wouldn’t be as easy as I’d hoped.

  I grabbed the knob and nudged the door open. Chilly spring air washed over my skin. Goosebumps prickled my flesh as I crept toward the metal-plated unit.

  I listened.

  It may seem weird, but I have an extra sense. That’s my Shine. Shines are girls like me with unusual abilities. No one knows how we get our abilities. Some people can read dreams, some can heal.

  I can sense blood. I feel it. I see it pulsing through people’s bodies. Gross, I know. But I’m used to it. My Shine really freaked my parents out when I predicted Granny Brighton’s heart attack.

  Shines aren’t well-liked. Some people hate us, some want us dead. The Revens want us for money. They’re bounty hunters who have no special powers, but they don’t need them. Most are street smart and motivated by money, starvation, or the threat of death. Or all three.

  Blood whirred behind the huge air conditioning unit. I concentrated on the sound of the heartbeat. I only heard one heart pumping. I counted the beats. Seventy-five bpm. An average heart rate. The person also had a slight heart murmur. Interesting.

  I inched along the unit’s metal casing, knife held with a firm grasp. My rubber-soled boots barely made a sound, though to me it sounded deafening.

  My shoe scraped over a metal shaving.

  The shadow’s heart rate shot up.

  A dagger flew past my head, almost impaling me. It clattered a few feet away. Sprinting footsteps echoed as I snatched the dagger up. I ran for the intruder. The maze of metal machines and whirring generators made it impossible for me to see my attacker, so I listened for the heartbeat instead.

  Over the drone, I heard the distinct du-dump, du-dum
p of the heartbeat on the left side of the roof.

  I followed the sound. The heartbeat grew louder. Louder.

  A stiff breeze caught my hair. Long brunette strands battered my face. I tucked my hair back, looking, listening. Except for a large, cased-in vent, this portion of the roof remained free of obstructions.

  I crept toward the vent. Sweat slicked my palms. I heard the clamor of my own heartbeat in my ears. Adrenaline fueled my muscles.

  I had three feet to go when a shadowy form leapt off the building. I got a brief look at him. Black turtleneck, tattoos on his arms. I watched him land on the open platform of the half-finished skyscraper next door. He disappeared behind mounds of building materials.

  Sticking my knife between my teeth, I gathered my skirt and sprinted for the edge. There are perks to being a Reven hunter. Sailing through the air over an immense drop will scare the crap out of you, but it’s also kind of rock-and-razor. Blood-pumping, adrenaline-racing, fun.

  I relaxed my knees to soften the impact as I landed on the opposite ledge. Wind howled past, threatening to tug me off the edge. I sprinted for the building’s interior.

  Darkness shrouded the iron beams. Piles of sheetrock and ceramic tiles blocked my path. A choppercar whizzed past, illuminating the open room for a few brief seconds.

  Tiles smashed near my head. Whoever this loser was, he needed to stop acting like a coward.

  “Come out and fight,” I said.

  No answer.

  “I know you’re in here.”

  Something moved near a large crate. Was it the intruder?

  I flexed my fingers around my knife’s hilt. I walked on the balls of my feet, but the sound of my footsteps still seemed deafening.

  I made it to the crate and peeked around the corner. No one.

  Where had he gone?

  Something crashed behind me.

  I rounded and took a tile to my stomach. My knife clattered to the ground. I clutched my sore mid-section. It hurt, but it would have felt worse if not for the Kevlar.

  The intruder ran from me. A black shadow, light on his feet. I sprinted toward him.

  He disappeared behind a wall of building materials. I darted after him, but found nothing.

  No signs of the intruder.

  Something scurried behind me. I rounded, but found more empty space. I listened for the heartbeat when another choppercar sped past. The droning engine and beating blades drowned out any other sounds.

  Moisture beaded on the back of my neck. Where was this guy?

  I searched behind a stack of tiles, avoiding a bucket of half-dried grout.

  Ten minutes later, I felt as if I knew this place better than my own bedroom. I hadn’t heard the intruder’s heartbeat since he’d nailed me with the tile. Either he was dead, or I’d chased a ghost.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I heard another sound. This time it came from the hotel’s roof.

  Thank Gandhi, Naomi sailed across the rooftop and over to the open platform. She landed a few feet from where I stood.

  I sheathed my knife.

  The air current caught Naomi’s mass of kinky curls and whipped them across her face. She smiled, her brilliant white teeth contrasting with her dark skin.

  “Did you find him?” she asked in her thick British accent.

  “He got away.”

  “Bloody hell.” She sheathed her own knife. “That was Memphis Stone. Nasty bugger. I got some intel about him from the Wheaton sisters.”

  “The hellraisers?”

  “Not anymore.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card. I took it from her. In the dim light I read the card.

  MAY AND LILLIE WHEATON

  PROFESSIONAL SHINE DEFENDERS

  “Shine defenders—that’s a new one. What did you find out from them?” I handed the card back.

  She stuffed it in her pocket. “They joined a secretive group called Ohm a month or so ago. Their whole operation has changed. They moved into an old cathedral near St. Patrick’s. It’s amazing, stained glass windows, tapestries. Plus they’ve done a complete security overhaul and installed a Reven locating system. The place is basically a Shine fortress. They’ve found out more about the Revens than we ever have. They told me that this bloke, Memphis Stone, is part of a new group of Revens. They’ve never seen tactics like his. Smarter, more vicious. Everything’s changed since Seattle. The Revens have taken four Shines this month and the cops have done nothing.”

  I knew this was coming, but it still sickened me. “You think he’ll be back?”

  “Absolutely. We have three unregistered Shines at the prom tonight. It’s too tempting for him not to be.”

  “Then I’ll wait for him.”

  “Let me. You’ve got to go fetch your crown.” I heard a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she stared at my ripped skirt and combat boots.

  “You think it’s funny?”

  “Of course not. You make a lovely queen.”

  “Right.”

  “Just don’t forget to hide your Uzi before you snatch the tiara.”

  “Shut up.”

  She smiled.

  “You sure you don’t want me stay?” I asked.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re positive?”

  “June, this is your last prom. I know how it is—you’d rather stalk Revens than socialize, but I graduated last year and I regret not going to my prom. You should be down there having a ball, not wasting it up here.”

  “I’d rather be here.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re avoiding Blake, aren’t you?”

  “No. Why would you say that?”

  “Call it intuition.”

  “I like Blake, just so you know.”

  “Sure you do.”

  “I do.” I put as much enthusiasm in my voice as I could muster.

  “Prove it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then you don’t like him.”

  I breathed an exasperated sigh.

  “What is it this time? His hair is too short, muscles too small, his breath smells like garlic?”

  “Fine,” I said after a pause. “His chin is too big.”

  “Ah!” Her eyes lit up. “I knew it was something.”

  “And he likes seafood. He took us to Schooner’s for dinner and the whole place smelled like fish. Who likes that stuff?”

  “And,” Naomi added, “he’s one of the better looking guys in school, he’s a gentleman, and he’s into you.”

  “So?”

  “So you should stop being so picky. You’ll never find the perfect guy. Trust me. Someday you’ll have to learn to live with imperfection.”

  I crossed my arms. “I know I’ll never find someone perfect.”

  “Then give Blake a chance.”

  “Did he put you up to this?”

  She took a step back and didn’t answer. A sly grin tugged the corners of her mouth as she perched on a stack of tile. “Go have fun.”

  I ducked into a mock bow. “Yes, Mother.”

  “Be nice and I’ll save the Reven for you,” she said.

  “Text me when he shows up.”

  “I will.”

  “You’d better,” I called before I stepped to the open platform and leapt across.

  By the time I reached the ballroom, sweat drenched my skin and matted my hair. I smelled of the outdoors, and my swollen feet refused to squeeze into my stilettos. I carried them instead.

  I crossed through the emptying ballroom and searched for Blake. Teachers stood on chairs taking down streamers and gathering balloons. Fluorescent lights replaced the dimmed lanterns.

  Sara Somerfield bumped into me. “Sorry,” she said, then stopped. Her eyes widened as she focused on my dress. “June, what happened?”

  My mind raced to come up with an answer. I held up my stilettos. “Bad luck with my shoes. I ripped a huge hole and had to cut off the bottom.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. Telling lies has neve
r been my thing. I think she knew it, but she played along.

  “That’s horrible. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Have you seen Blake?”

  “Over there.” She pointed behind me.

  “Thanks.” I headed for Blake when she grabbed my arm. Sara was the sort of girl who could stand to lose a few pounds, but still looked pretty. She wore a bright, tangerine-colored dress that matched her feather earrings. When she’d described her look to me in English, I’d thought it sounded too daring, but she made it look good. Gorgeous, actually.

  “Where were you?” she asked. “You totally missed getting your crown.”

  “I know. I was…busy.”

  Sara frowned, which is an expression I don’t usually see on her. “I don’t understand. What could be more important than this? Some girls would’ve died to be prom queen. Me included.”

  Died? Did she realize what she asked for? Being the prom queen sounded glamorous, but it also put a big fat label on my head. Spoiled. Powder puff. Snob. That’s what people would see instead of seeing me. I didn’t know how to explain it to her, so I didn’t. “Sorry,” was all I could think to say.

  “It’s okay.” She laughed. “I’m sure your dad will find a way to smooth it over, right?”

  I cringed inside, but smiled as I always do whenever anyone mentions my dad. “Yeah. Let’s hope so.”

  She brushed past without another word. Sara must have thought I was such an idiot.

  A quick drumming of heartbeats filled my ears, but I focused on only one.

  I found Blake standing in the middle of the floor with a lost expression on his face. He’d unbuttoned his tux jacket, and he wore his bowtie loose around his neck. His spiked, bleach-tipped hair looked mussed, like he’d been running his hands through it, they way he does when he’s on edge.

  Blake’s heart beat faster than usual. It could be from the dancing, but probably not.

  “Hey,” I said as I stopped beside him.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Are you mad?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “To the roof. I needed fresh air.”