Lucid, YA Paranormal Romance (Brightest Kind of Darkness Series, Book #2)

by Patrice Michelle

  When I shut the book, he said, “Well?”

  I could tell he was expecting something monumental once I’d finished looking through the book, or at the very least, he was waiting for me to say something profound. I felt like a fraud. “Thank you for letting me look at it, but I don’t understand…” I began as I held it out to him. “Why do you want to give it to me?”

  He shook his head and folded my fingers around the book. “I’ve held onto this book, kept it with me for twenty-eight years…until I found the person to give it to.”

  I still didn’t get his obvious reverence for the book. I opened it once more and pointed to the unused card inside the sleeve in the back. “It’s never been checked out, but this says it’s from a library in London. Is that where you got it?”

  Freddie stiffened, clearly offended. “Certainly not! I would never not return a book to the library.” He pointed to the book, a faraway look filtering in his eyes. “I’d just come up the stairs from the Tube, where I planned to spend the morning walking around London before my symposium speech in the afternoon, when a very tall man in an expensive gray suit approached me. ‘This is for you, Frederick,’ he said in a deep, booming voice. ‘Keep it safe. When the time is right, you’ll know when to pass it on.’”

  “Did you know the man who gave you this?” I asked, glancing down at the book in my hands.

  Freddie shook his head. “I’d never seen him before. He walked away without saying another word. I tried to follow him and ask more questions, but I lost track of his blond head in the crowd.” Staring at the book fondly, he continued, “I liked the idea of being entrusted with something special that related to my passion, so I’ve kept this book all these years, waiting to pass it on.”

  Who was the stranger who’d given Freddie this book? And why had he given it to him? When Freddie lifted his blue eyes to mine, my heart sank that I would disappoint him. I shook my head and carefully set the book back in his hands. “I’m not the one you should be giving this book to.”

  “I don’t understand.” Freddie looked perplexed. “What I saw with the ravens—”

  “It’s hard to explain,” I interrupted, not wanting to give anything away about Ethan without his permission. “Keep it safe, Freddie. I’ll come see you again.” Ethan should have the book. Not me. As soon as Ethan returned, I would bring him here, so Freddie could give it to the right person. I didn’t understand the book’s importance. Maybe Ethan would. Or together we could figure it out, but I didn’t feel right taking it. The book wasn’t meant for me.

  “I was so sure,” Freddie said with a dejected sigh. His shoulders drooped as he walked back over to his shelf and slid the book into place.

  When he slowly lowered himself onto the trunk across from me, I reached out and squeezed his bony hand. “I’m coming back. I promise. Then you can hand the book over, okay?”

  Freddie straightened, his face lighting up. The corner of his mouth lifted in a ghost of a smile. “When you come back, will you do it again? How do you get them to do that?”

  He was talking about the ravens. I’d come here to learn all I could about ravens, yet a certified expert on these enigmatic birds was asking me about them? Like I could control them? I snorted inwardly. Could we make it happen if Ethan was standing right beside me? I had no idea. I shrugged. “I don’t know how it works, but I’ll try.”

  I’d experience something amazing today with Ethan’s connection to the ravens, but there was still plenty I could learn from Freddie. I picked up my notepad from the trunk, then pointed my pen in his direction and smiled. “Are you ready to let me interview you now?”

  * * *

  I got to CVAS ten minutes before it closed. The strong smell of pine cleaner made my nose tingle as the glass front door swung shut.

  “Hi, Nara,” Harper said, looking up from mopping the tiled lobby area. She blew tendrils of black hair that had fallen from her ponytail away from her face. “I told Sally you were on your way. She’s getting Houdini ready for you.”

  “Thanks for telling her for me.” I wrinkled my nose as I glanced down at the bucket. “Not my favorite duty. At least everyone has to do it.”

  “Yeah, I can’t really complain when Sally rotates through mop duty too.” Harper leaned on the mop with a tired sigh, her heather-gray Nautica hoodie splotched with water and pine cleaner suds. “Hey, did you ever find that raven guy you were trying to locate for your school project? If not, I can try to find out if anyone at the Wildlife Preserve might have heard of him.”

  “No worries. I just talked with Freddie.” I smiled, then rolled my eyes. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of Freddie being a nickname for Frederick. Turns out his published name was Erik Holtzman. I just finished talking with him and took a ton of notes.”

  She lifted the mop into the rolling bucket, then slid it closer to me, her brown eyes bright. “That’s awesome. I’ll bet he was interesting to talk to.”

  I nodded, grinning. “It was a total rush. He had an entire wall full of books about ravens. Some prized possessions for sure. It was pretty amazing. I’m so glad he asked me to come and see his raven sanctuary. The birds were beyond cool.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “I thought it was just a phone call. That’s awesome he asked you to do a face-to-face interview. Did you have to drive far?”

  “I think he asked me because he knew my grandmother from years ago, so yeah I really lucked out. It was a hike out to his house in Afton, but so worth it.”

  “I’ll bet—” she started to say when Sally came through the door that led to the back, her curly blonde hair bouncing around her face as she tugged on the dog’s leash. “Whoa, Houdini!”

  I approached the hyped-up dog, who was currently trying to wiggle out of his collar and gently gripped his scruff, then pulled him close, speaking into his ear in a strong tone, “Calm down, Houdini.”

  When he started to squirm once more, I began to say, “Do you want to—”

  His brown eyes quickly jerked to mine and he immediately sat down, his body on rigid alert as he tilted his head to listen.

  “—come home with me?” I finished while trying not to laugh. His reaction made it hard to keep an authoritative stance.

  “If we’d only known ‘asking’ was the way to his heart.” Sally snickered and handed me Houdini’s leash. “How long do you think you can foster him?”

  “I haven’t asked my mom yet, but she shouldn’t fuss too much about a week.”

  Sally’s blonde eyebrows rose. “I’m pretty sure I have a family lined up to take the shepherd mix back there, so space will clear out. They can’t take him for a couple of weeks, though. Houdini’s been fed for the night, but here’s some food and treats to get you started,” she said, lifting a bag in her arms.

  I looked down at Houdini. Big brown eyes stared at me, begging for me to take him. I gave Sally a confident smile and hoped like crazy I could convince my mom to let him stay for two weeks. “Okay, two weeks then.” Grabbing the bag Sally held out for me, I glanced down at Houdini. “Are you ready to go—”

  I’d barely gotten the words out before he was bolting toward the front door.

  The last thing I expected to see was another car in our driveway when I got home. As I pulled into the garage bay and cut the engine, I wondered how Mom was going to react to me bringing Houdini home without telling her. If she gave me a hard time, I was totally going to play the “protection card” for all it was worth.

  Houdini was so excited, he practically dragged me into the house. As he yanked me into the kitchen, I tugged on the leash and said, “Whoa, boy!”

  Mom paused from pouring spaghetti into the strainer over the sink. Mr. Dixon, looked up as he set another plate on the table. “Hi, Nara. You’re just in time for dinner,” he said, a friendly smile on his face.

  It was one thing to know my mom was dating Mr. Dixon, yet another thing entirely to walk in on him setting the dinner table at my house. Awkward.

  “Um, hi, Mr.
Dixon.” I glanced at Mom, who was looking at Houdini with a stern expression. Her gaze met mine with a “why didn’t you tell me you were bringing a dog home” look of disapproval. I raised my eyebrows, then cut a narrowed gaze to Mr. Dixon’s tall, lanky form leaning across the table to lay a napkin beside one of the plates with a “why didn’t you tell me you were bringing my Spanish teacher home for dinner?” look.

  A brief apology flashed through her eyes before a battle of wills commenced in our intense stares. When my mom opened her mouth to speak, I quickly lifted Houdini’s leash and pasted on a smile. “Mom, meet Houdini. I’m fostering him for a couple of weeks. He’ll make a great guard dog, don’t you think?”

  My mom’s gaze dropped to the big dog once more. On cue, Houdini sat and pressed himself against my leg. With his head held high, he puffed his broad chest out as if he knew he was being inspected for appropriate protector material.

  I raised an eyebrow, challenging her to deny me. When she exhaled in defeat, then said, “You’ll need to vacuum a couple of times a week while he’s here,” my smile turned genuine.

  “I know. Let me get Houdini settled in my room, then I’ll be down to help with dinner in a few minutes.”

  As I ran upstairs, I was never more thankful for Mr. Dixon’s presence. Not because I wanted my mom dating my Spanish teacher—ugh—but because she wouldn’t give me a hard time about Houdini in front of him. Her Southern manners were too deeply ingrained.

  Leaving Houdini happily chewing a bone on a pallet I’d created for him on the floor next to my bed, I ran downstairs to push past the first-dinner-at-my-house awkwardness with Mr. Dixon.

  Mr. Dixon actually turned out to be pretty funny. Throughout dinner, I caught glimpses of his dry sense of humor. Apparently he’d only shown a small slice of himself to our class. It made me wonder what the other teachers were like outside of school. When I thought of my mean English teacher, I could only picture her throwing rocks at squirrels in her backyard. I pressed my lips together, shaking the disturbing image from my mind.

  Mom was currently cutting slices of store-bought chocolate cake for each of us. I smiled when I saw the way Mr. Dixon watched her while she set the slices on plates and collected silverware. He looked at her like it didn’t matter that spaghetti was the only thing she could cook. He really liked her. Go Mom!

  “Be right back,” Mom said in a lighthearted tone as she walked out of the kitchen.

  As she ran upstairs, I furrowed my brow. What was she doing?

  “So, Nara, your Mom tells me you volunteer at CVAS,” Mr. Dixon said, after taking a sip of coffee. “I knew you played soccer, but I had no idea you did that. I think that’s wonderful. Do you foster a lot?”

  I shook my head. “No, this is the first time. I would do it all the time, but Mom has allergies.”

  Mr. Dixon raised his eyebrows and I could tell he was wondering why I’d done it now, but thankfully Mom walked in the room with two small white jewelry boxes, one bigger than the other, and a card in her hand.

  “Happy early birthday, Inara!” she said, setting the boxes and card on the table in front of me.

  “You too?” I laughed and lifted the card. “Everybody has given me presents early this year. My actual birthday is going to be a total letdown.”

  Mom wrinkled her nose and pointed to the box. “Don’t be a spoilsport. Open the bigger box first, then the smaller one.” She grabbed the dessert plates, then set one in front of Mr. Dixon, the next one in front of me, then the last one by her chair.

  I raised my eyebrow, but set the card down to pick up the bigger box. Mom had always insisted I open the card first. The fact she insisted I open the gifts first must mean they were extra special.

  As my fingers brushed the lid on the first box, Mom said, “Your Gran made me realize just how mature you were. I’ve been waiting a long time to give you this gift and, well, I was too excited to wait until your official seventeenth birthday.”

  Mom’s comment made my stomach flutter. Once I lifted the lid, I gasped at the long intricate silver chain nestled in the cotton. Pulling the necklace out of the box, I stared at the interesting inch-wide charm hanging at the end of the chain. “It’s gorgeous!”

  Mr. Dixon leaned over and stopped the charm from spinning, eyeing the design. “I believe that’s an updated version of a traditional triskele. What a nice gift.”

  Mom glanced at Mr. Dixon. “This gift is extra special. It’s from my mom to Inara. She died when Nara was little.” Lifting the scrolled trinity charm against her palm, she met my gaze. “Your grandmother gave this to me a long time ago. She asked me to save it for you until you reached ‘your age of maturity,’” Mom said with fond tears in her eyes.

  I touched the charm and inwardly chuckled at my grandmother’s way of telling Mom to hold on to the necklace until I was old enough not to break it. “Did she wear it a lot?”

  Mom’s blonde eyebrows drew together. “I never saw her wear it, but she must’ve loved it enough to want to pass it on to you. My mom wasn’t very sentimental when it came to jewelry. As a matter of fact, the only thing I have of hers is her wedding band. Her will stipulated the rest be donated to her favorite charity,” Mom finished, shaking her head.

  Once I’d slipped the chain around my neck, Mom handed me the other box. “Now open this one.”

  As I pulled the pair of silver post earrings out of the cotton, I squealed, “Thank you, Mom. I love them!”

  “I wasn’t sure what I was going to get you for this birthday.” Mom spread her hands wide, then smiled. “But once I saw you’d pierced your ears, I knew exactly what to get you. I had Sage make a smaller version of your charm.”

  I removed my plain ball earrings I’d worn since Lainey pierced my ears, then put my new earrings on, tilting my head to display them for Mom and Mr. Dixon’s inspection.

  “They’re perfect,” Mom declared while Mr. Dixon gave a thumbs-up.

  After we’d cleaned the dishes, I could tell Mom and Mr. Dixon wanted to chat, so I hugged my mom, saying, “Thank you for my gifts. I love them. I’m heading upstairs to get ready for bed.”

  Mom’s hands tightened around me as she whispered in my ear, “Do I want to know how Houdini got his name?”

  “Probably not.” I gave a nervous laugh, then turned to Mr. Dixon, who was settling on the sofa. “See you at school, Mr. Dixon.”

  “Call me David, Nara.”

  Too soon, too soon! Probably never, I mentally screamed. “Um, that would feel weird.”

  He chuckled. “Fair enough.”

  Thankfully, I escaped before my mother could act on the embarrassed look on her face and insist that I call him David right then and there.

  I walked into my room to find Houdini sprawled across my bed, his head on my pillow, like it was his personal throne. I shooed him off and back to his pallet, saying in a stern tone, “We’re going to have a serious talk about boundaries, boy!”

  By the time I’d washed my face and brushed my teeth, Houdini was once again on my bed.

  I shook my head at his stubborn nature, then crawled into bed with my grandmother’s journal. Houdini was at least smart enough to jump off while I straightened the covers. As soon as I pulled them to my chin, he quickly hopped back up, but this time, instead of laying his head on my pillow, he pressed his body against mine and settled his chin on his paws facing the door.

  I patted his broad back and tried to get him to turn around so I could scratch his ears, but he only turned to look at me, then resettled in the same position.

  “Stubborn dog,” I mumbled affectionately as I flipped through the opening pages. I learned Margaret had many interests from art to music to volunteering. Gran had been right. My grandmother didn’t journal daily. She’d just written about events that happened in her life or memorable people she’d met that made an impact. Hence the reason she’d written about Freddie. Sprinkled throughout were anecdotes about family. She liked my dad but felt he was a hard read. She dearly loved h
er sister, Corda, was proud of her daughter, Elizabeth, and absolutely adored her grand daughter, Inara, which brought a huge smile to my face. I’d only made it halfway through her journal when my eyes began to droop as sheer exhaustion took over.

  The moment my bedroom door opened, Houdini lifted his head and growled.

  Mom’s gaze snapped to the dog. “Hush, Houdini!” she said in an authoritative voice at the same time I tucked the journal under my covers. When he blew out a snort and lowered his head to his paws, Mom’s eyebrows shot up. “Looks like I don’t have to spend a few grand on a security system anytime soon.”

  I patted Houdini’s back. “Told you.”

  A smirk tilted her lips. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

  “Night, Mom. Thanks for the gifts.”

  “You’re welcome.” Mom started to walk out, then turned back. “I’d like you to work on calling him David, Nara. He’ll be coming over here more, spending time with us. It’ll feel very formal if you continue to call him Mr. Dixon.”

  I’m not ready! I wanted to scream. Instead, I pressed my lips together. “I’ll try.” Which means, I’ll just avoid calling him anything.

  Satisfied with my answer, Mom closed the door behind her.

  After I yawned for the third time, I tucked the journal in my nightstand drawer and turned off my light. When the flashing light from my phone blinked, lighting up my ceiling in a strobe of red, I grabbed it from my nightstand.

  Freddie had left me a voice mail. “Hi Nara. I just wanted to say what a pleasure it was meeting you. I hope you got plenty of information for your project, though I think you enlightened me more today.” A low chuckle rasped. “I’ll be waiting for you to claim your book. You are the rightful owner, little one. I know it in my heart. Take care and I hope you’ll come back and visit me very soon.”