Hidden (Hidden Series Book One)

by M. Lathan

  I fell on my knees and begged him, right there in the middle of his living room. I screamed and cried, and because he’s an angel, he forgave me. Then he made me tell him every horrible detail about training and Julian. He cringed when I told him I learned to kill at twelve. He didn’t believe for one second that those creatures were criminals like Julian said they were. Now that he knows everything and understands why we can’t be a normal couple right now, my life is perfect.

  “So … you guys were really in love,” I said. “Surprising. Good, but surprising.”

  Catherine was in love with a normal guy. She’d killed creatures, but because she’d been ordered to long before I came along … I hoped. I wanted to ask her to come back and explain, but I knew she’d only piss me off with her rules. His rules.

  I flipped through more pages. I didn’t think she could fall more in love with him, but she did. She’d sketched flowers around the edges of most of the pages I came to after he’d broken up with her for thirty seconds. She wrote three whole pages about his eyes, describing every detail. I didn’t need to see a picture to know I had the same ones.

  The next five pages were about his lips. I didn’t read much of it. She was obsessed and far too descriptive, and I didn’t care to know what my dead father’s mouth tasted like.

  We spent twelve hours staring at each other today.

  “Really?” I said, rolling my eyes. “Both of you were crazy.”

  We didn’t say much. We just stayed in bed and stared, falling deeper in love. I’m so glad I pretended to be sick. It was the best day of my life so far.

  She went on for ten more pages about that day and how wonderful it was to gaze into his eyes. I skimmed it as I shook my head.

  I read the next entry closely because of the first sentence: I love being a girl, every single thing about it. She was so different, so soon. I folded the corner down. This page showed that hunters could change and added some clout to my efforts to be different.

  He watches me when I walk by, at the coffee shop, at his house, everywhere. He’s always watching me. And his thoughts, when I can’t ignore them, are always about me and the curves he somehow finds on my skinny frame. I could make him do whatever I wanted. I could control his mind and he knows that. I could make him stop being ridiculous about waiting a year to make love, but I promised him I wouldn’t use my powers on him. He made me swear when we got back together. So now I have to rely on God given parts to change his mind. And that’s where being a girl comes in handy.

  She started to describe her methods of seduction, and I turned the page. She was my mother, and I wasn’t in the mood to throw up tonight.

  On the top of the next page she wrote, If I died today, the last three weeks have made the last sixteen years worth living. He is my life. He is all that I want. She enclosed that in a string of flowers. It made me think of the painting outside of the locked room.

  She started the actual entry under her doodle.

  We celebrated my birthday and our almost-one-monthiversary today. It feels like a year. He wrote me a song and played it on the new guitar I bought him. I cried. Today he finally commented on how tired I looked. I told him the truth. I couldn’t sleep without him. So he asked me to move in. I said yes. Now I have to figure out a way to tell Dad I’m quitting. Or more realistically, since I can’t imagine saying those words to my father, I’ll have to trick Mona into thinking I still live with her.

  I gathered she’d succeeded in seducing him by the next entry. I only stopped to read it because her tone was different. Not obsessed with him or overly sexual.

  It was nothing that I thought it would be. Because I’d thought it would cost someone a good deal of money or Julian would creep into my room and try to father the copy himself. Tonight was everything I thought I wouldn’t have. Romance. Love. A choice. And it was perfection. No moment in my life can compare. I couldn’t care less about being a damn agent or what my parents would think of him anymore. I’d live in this tiny apartment and love him and only him for the rest of my life.

  I folded the corner of the page. Their love was undeniable in this entry. It also showed a side to breeding Nathan didn’t seem to know about – that it wasn’t a choice women hunters made for themselves. They were forced to, and my mother chose a different life. She chose love.

  Indisputable evidence.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to her. I took the deepest breath I’d taken since I was twelve, when I started feeling like an abomination. Something God and the world hated.

  They were crazy, but in love. If this was who I was a copy of, that wasn’t so bad. She’d learned to kill at twelve, the same age my powers came, but she stopped, it seemed. This Catherine didn’t seem like she would’ve wanted to make a copy. She seemed like she’d have a baby with the man she loved.

  The entries that followed were way too much. She wrote about nothing but their physical relationship for nearly seventy pages.

  “Seriously?” I said. “You couldn’t have torn these out before you showed this to me?” I didn’t expect her to come out now. It was 12:30 in the morning, my birthday, and I was avoiding pages that would’ve taught me how they’d made me if I didn’t already know. She had to be somewhere hiding in shame right now. Raymond too.

  The next entry I stopped on seemed safe to read and happy.

  We got married today. He proposed this morning and we were on our honeymoon by sundown. It’s not legal, but we bought rings and exchanged them after the vows. We were alone, we’re always alone, but it was amazing. He hasn’t said my name all day. It’s just wife this, wife that. I love it. He couldn’t have given me a better 17th birthday present.

  She was married at my age. I couldn’t imagine being married. They were so young, and it couldn’t be too long before I came along. There were only a few pages left since I’d skipped most of the diary.

  I haven’t written in over a year. I found this diary in a box of old things we never unpacked, she wrote. So she’d be eighteen now. I read it, all of it. I let him read it too. We laughed about how insane we were, and he thinks I should start writing again since life is getting so stressful. Stressful doesn’t even begin to describe it. Julian has threatened me and he knows I’m with someone. Not to mention magical kind have completely lost their minds, and apparently no one can stop them. And I know Julian could, maybe he’s too concerned with finding me to care.

  He told my dad I owed him at least one copy. That he made me what I am and I ran away before he benefited. Dad has given him millions to leave me alone. Mom finally told me that. Dad would never admit it, even if he were speaking to me. He hasn’t said more than ten words to me since I quit training without telling him. It was impossible to do that and be a good wife, so I said goodbye to my dreams of being an agent. I’m happier. I love my husband more than anything in this world. In any world. He lives in hiding with me and never complains. It’s been months since we’ve seen humans other than my parents during awkward, silent dinners. I promised him it wouldn’t be forever. Julian will give up one day. I know he will. Then we’ll be a normal couple, even have normal kids.

  My heart jumped to my throat. I was starting to see where this was going. How they died.

  Since Dad finally convinced Mom to ignore me too, I went to the house. It was empty, but I found them easily. She answered the door and said ‘May I help you?’ like she didn’t know me. She didn’t. She stared for a second, but it never came to her.

  I told her my name, and she said I had the wrong house. She said they had no children. Then Dad came out, just as clueless. Then he remembered something, not that I was his only child, but that a piece of mail had come for someone by that name.

  They closed the door in my face, and I sat on the doorstep and read the letter Dad sent there for me. Julian threatened to kill them if they didn’t bring me to him, and now they’re hiding too. He and Mom drank some potion to erase their memories. He wanted to keep their minds safe in case Julian ever found them. Appare
ntly, this was the only way to keep my location and husband a secret.

  He apologized for everything, shutting me out for the last few months, even sending me to Julian all those years ago. He blamed himself. He told me where to find money to keep me stable for the rest of my life. He finally admitted how much he liked my husband, and he begged me not to undo what he’d done. At least for as long as Julian was obsessed with me.

  I knocked on the door and asked to hug them both. They let me, with curious faces, and I went home to my love. He held me all night. I didn’t say a word. I do that a lot lately, just sit and stare. And he’ll sit and stare with me, being everything I need. Now I only have him. He’s always only had me. I love him more than life, and because of me, he could be killed. Julian believes he is the only reason I won’t give him a copy. I’d do anything to keep him safe, even allow my parents to forget me. I wrote a poem long ago about what would happen to me without him. And if Julian wants me dead, this is how to do it: take my husband, take my life.

  The rest of the pages were blank. She wrote nothing else. Nothing about me. I tried to fill in the blanks on my own. They must have stayed in hiding and had me. CC knew how to see the future, so she knew when Julian was coming and brought me to St. Catalina. But if she could save me, why not save herself? And Raymond too?

  “CC?” I whispered into the air, crying now. I shivered and opened the laptop. “Did Julian find you?”

  After an excruciating minute, she typed: Yes.

  “My grandparents too?”

  Yes.

  “Oh my God. A hunter killed my entire family.” I grabbed a pillow and hugged it against my chest. She typed as I cried into it. I lifted my head to look at the screen.

  Not exactly.

  “What do you mean? He killed my grandparents?”

  Yes.

  “My parents?” I waited a whole minute. She didn’t answer. “Did he kill your husband?”

  Yes.

  Julian killed her husband … but not my parents. He didn’t kill her. Because of the poem, and her many pledges to not live without him, I asked, “How did you die?” Her chilly hand touched mine, and I shattered. “He died first, and you did it yourself after you brought me to New Haven, didn’t you?” My chest burned as I waited for her answer. I thought about the times I didn’t want to live. I’d never gotten far enough to plan it, it hurt too much to think about for more than a minute, but after reading her diary, I knew Catherine would go through with it.

  Can’t say. He doesn’t want me to upset you too much on your birthday. How I died doesn’t matter. It only matters that you know that the shifter has no idea what breeding is about and that you are not a monster.

  “Then what’s wrong with me!? I want to hurt people. I get so angry. I … literally have to fight to be happy.”

  She rubbed and froze my back before typing her reply.

  You inherited a powerful mind. If I were you, I would stop thinking and saying such horrible things about myself. Seeing as how your thoughts can very easily become reality.

  “You killed yourself, and you’re giving me advice?” I said. “You should have changed the way you thought, the things you were saying to yourself and writing in your diary. I inherited more than a powerful mind. I inherited your crazy.”

  You inherited an attitude problem, I see. I’ve upset you, I’m sorry. I promised him I’d leave you alone now, but I’ll come if you call me.

  “And … that’s it?” I whispered. “You don’t have anything else to say to me?”

  Maybe I should add that your ancestors are rolling over in their graves as the heir to their fortune houses magical freeloaders.

  I grunted and slammed the laptop shut, giving up on having a mother-daughter moment beyond the few kisses she’d given me.

  “At least I know they like me,” I said. “Go away.” She left, and I brought the diary back to the door in my closet.

  Back in my bed, I cried because I’d let myself care about them. Before, they were nameless evil creatures, then nameless evil hunters. Now that I knew their story, I felt cheated. She’d learned to love but didn’t extend that to me.

  I’d met my own mother and still hadn’t ever been told I love you. She wasn’t emotional to talk to the daughter she hid. She’d given me three kisses, but insulted Nate and my friends, and her husband hadn’t come out at all.

  I was a copy, technically, but for different reasons than I’d thought. For different reasons than my silly shifter boyfriend told me. I probably wasn’t bred to kill. I was just born at an inconvenient time to parents who loved each other more than they loved me.

  Fear filled every space inside of me as I lay there. I had more to worry about than Lydia Shaw. Julian was a hunter. If he knew I was Catherine’s hidden child, he’d finally have what he’d thought she owed him, a copy.

  I’d been afraid before. Of God, of his wrath. But nothing turned my stomach more than the thought of sitting in a lonely cell, being made to kill, copied myself. I shivered, thinking of how terrifying it must be to be forced to sleep with someone you don’t love and give birth to children who wouldn’t be treated like children at all.

  I could only hope Nate would understand this.

  I didn’t sleep at all. The sun was up, and I was still crying, more petrified of the hunters than ever. And Catherine’s death weighed on me, the heaviest of all my worries. She’d taken her own life and left me alone. My birth didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t live without Raymond. I really didn’t want to have to tell Nate that I was a copy of someone who committed suicide. He’d assume exactly what I was assuming now … that I was capable of that too.

  I’d have to say: Hi, babe. I’m a copy … the thing you said was the worst thing ever. Good news, even though I’ve wanted to kill several times, I might not be a vicious murderer, unless I somehow speak it into existence. Bad news, my ex-hunter mother was nuts and eventually killed herself. Oh … and in addition to Lydia freaking Shaw looking for me, I’ll also have to hide from hunters that would want to breed me and kill you.

  Then he’d run away from the crazy girl with the crazy life.

  I wrapped myself in the comforter like a burrito, pledging to never come out. If I never saw him again, I wouldn’t have to tell him.

  Of course, Sophia unwrapped me when she came in. She dried my tears and kissed my forehead.

  “Some nights will be harder than others, but you’ll get out of this,” she said. “Depression won’t win.” I nodded, going along with her assumption. “I was watching the news. Is it because of what today is?”

  “Not really. I forgot about my birthday.”

  She rested her hand on my cheek and smiled. “I hope this will be the happiest day of your life.”

  “Thanks,” I said, knowing it probably wouldn’t be.

  I climbed out of bed so she’d stop looking at me like I was about to slit my wrists. “Did you hear Lydia Shaw say she had leads on the news?”

  It was silent for a moment, then she laughed. “I’m sure that’s just what she has to say to keep the world from having a panic attack.”

  I followed her into the bathroom. She sprayed cleaner on the spotless mirror and set a rag in motion that continued to streak across the glass on its own.

  “Did you hear her say she knows?” I asked, taking my mind off of the harmless magic I wished I had. “She said knows. Like she knows, knows. Doesn’t it freak you out that she’s psychic? Couldn’t her powers lead her here?”

  Sophia froze, and her rag paused on the mirror mid wipe. For a moment, I thought she was going to scream and tell me to run. But she smiled, and the rag started up again.

  “What on Earth made you think a crazy thing like that?” she asked.

  “I thought about it last night after she said she knew I was somewhere alive and well. And it’s not crazy. They have powers. Nathan told me.”

  Her eyes cut to me when I said his name. I kept my eyes up so I wouldn’t look guilty. “You two are good fr
iends, I see,” she said. I swallowed hard and nodded. “Good.” She said good, but her tone said, I’m watching you. “And I swear you’re safe here, sweetheart. I give it a few more days until they give up and call off the search. And she doesn’t know where you are. I know how to protect myself and this entire situation from psychic readings or any other hunter trick. I understand they won the war, but give my magic a little credit, dear. Trust me. There are no leads.”

  I sighed but let it go, wanting to trust her and be safe and ignore the feeling that told me that I knew that I wasn’t.

  I still didn’t trust her enough to tell her about the blood test or my parents. I really liked Sophia, but something wasn’t right with how she looked at me at times. Now was one of those times.

  I dressed as she cleaned and exchanged my sheets for a fresh pair. Like he was waiting on her to leave, Nate knocked on the door seconds after she vanished. I opened it. Not Nate.

  Emma smiled, and I managed to return it. “Happy Birthday,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m being used for my hands,” she said. Nathan came from behind her on four legs. I kneeled down to pet him. The smile was genuine now. I hadn’t seen him in his friendliest form in days. Perfect. I didn’t need to confess anything to this Nathan. I just needed to scratch behind his ears.

  “Hi there,” I said.

  “Hope you have a nice birthday,” Emma said handing me a folded square of paper. She skipped away, and I opened the note.

  “Good morning, babe. Follow me,” I read.

  He ran down the stairs and to the kitchen door. I opened it for him. There was another note on the table.

  I hope you like pancakes.

  I petted him again and sat at the empty table.

  “He’s so lame,” Paul said, walking out of the kitchen. He sat a plate of pancakes in front of me. “He agreed to do my chores for a week if I went along with this.” Paul pulled another note out of his pocket.