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

by Patrice Michelle

  “You’re right. That’s all a little too coincidental.” Drystan set his lips in a grim line and pressed harder on the gas pedal.

  Chapter Twenty

  As soon as Drystan rolled to a stop in Freddie’s driveway, I jumped out of the car, bolting toward the house.

  “Nara, wait!” Drystan called after me, but I continued up the stairs to hammer on the front door with rapid knocks. My heart thumped so hard, my entire body jerked.

  Drystan had just made it to the bottom stair when I pivoted and passed him, running down the few stairs.

  “You haven’t even given him a chance to answer the door.” Drystan closed in on my heels as I headed toward the back of the small house.

  “He could be working in the raven sanctuary back in the woods,” I said over my shoulder when my gaze snagged on the jagged glass where the sliding glass door used to be. “God, no!” A pit formed in my stomach and I had to force myself to lower my gaze to the deck floor. When I only saw broken glass, I let out a breath of relief.

  Drystan stepped in front of me, a muscle working in his jaw. “Call the police, Nara. There’s a lot of blood here.”

  I dialed 9-1-1 and reported a break-in, letting them know we thought someone was injured. The operator tried to keep me on the line, but I told her I’d be waiting outside for the police to arrive.

  As soon as I hung up, Drystan and I moved closer to peer through the window into Freddie’s living room. The built-in bookcases along the back wall had been decimated. Shelves and books were everywhere. The couch, end table, and kitchen table had also been overturned, as if someone had been dragged or thrown from the opposite side of the room through the living room and into the breakfast nook area where they crashed through the sliding glass door. My stomach turned at the sight of so much blood on the deck floor. I tore my gaze away and called through the broken window, “Freddie? Can you hear me? Freddie?”

  Sudden frantic raacck sounds came from the trees in Freddie’s backyard. A few ravens flew in a circle high above the sanctuary. Every so often one would break off and dive bomb some other big bird that was trying to venture into their group.

  “Vultures,” Drystan murmured.

  I shook my head. “The birds in the circle are ravens.”

  “I meant the ones the ravens are attacking…they’re vultures.”

  “We need to check the sanctuary!” I took off toward the footpath at the back of the yard. Just as I entered the woods, Drystan grabbed my hand and pulled back. “No, Nara. Let’s wait for the police.”

  “Freddie could be hurt and need our help,” I cried, yanking my hand away. I ran as if every second counted. I had to get to the sanctuary. I had a feeling it’s where Freddie would have gone if he were hurt. He’d said he never felt alone when he was with his ravens.

  I heard the alarm in Drystan’s voice when he called my name, but I didn’t stop. I had to be there for Freddie. Had to help him. I was so focused on getting to the aviary that I didn’t look up until I’d passed through the entrance.

  Horror shot through me at the image of Freddie’s bruised and bloody face, his head twisted at an unnatural angle. His limp body dangled fifteen feet up in the main oak tree, held only by a broken tree branch poking through his chest.

  “No!” I shrieked. “No, no, no. I’m so sorry,” I continued, my voice breaking. I tried to step forward, but Drystan grabbed me and turned me away.

  Pressing my face against his shoulder, he whispered in a shaken voice, “Every day, Nara. God, every damned day!”

  As I cried against his shoulder, I realized hazily that he was talking about teaching me how to defend myself. After a couple of minutes, the ravens’ shrieks in the sanctuary filtered into my consciousness. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and glanced up. A group of ravens—Freddie’s ravens—were taking turns fighting off scavenging vultures and smaller black birds, who were trying to get to the source of blood and smell of death floating through the woods.

  “Look.” I pointed to the defending birds. As Drystan’s gaze followed my line of sight, I called over the loud din, “They’re treating Freddie like their own kind. Protecting his body from the scavengers.” Freddie would feel honored, I thought morbidly.

  Drystan pulled me away from the carnage, his face a bit paler, strain creasing his mouth. “Let’s go wait for the police by your car.”

  I let Drystan walk me to my car, my body numb. Just as we reached the driveway, we heard the police siren down on the main road turning onto the long drive.

  My mind finally kicked into gear and I looked at Drystan. “Please don’t mention the real reason I thought we should check on Freddie to the police. We’ll just tell them that I forgot my notepad I left here the other day when I interviewed him and I came by to get it. That’s when we discovered the break-in.”

  His brows drew down. “But if the stolen book is the reason Freddie was killed, the police should know that, Nara.”

  I spread my hands. “We don’t know that for sure. We don’t even know if the same guy who stole my journal did this or if there is any connection at all.”

  “But it would give the police something to go on,” he shot back, gesturing toward the house.

  “The police are going to ask us what this guy looks like. You said you didn’t get a look at him. Whoever did this will hopefully have left some kind of evidence behind. If he didn’t wear gloves, the investigative team should be able to get fingerprints from the torn down bookshelves or maybe even from…” I paused, then swallowed hard, continuing in a whisper, “Freddie’s body.”

  Drystan blew out a harsh breath. “God, Nara. How’d he get that old man up in the tree like that?”

  I closed my eyes for a second, the horrific image of Freddie burned in my eyelids. “I don’t know. What I do know is…that if we tell the police about the book, they’ll take it as evidence and I might never see it again.”

  “Why is it so important?” he asked, clearly perplexed.

  The police car was almost upon us. My stomach knotted as its blue lights reflected off Drystan’s hardened features. I grasped his arm tight. “Please, Drystan.”

  When he pressed his lips together and glanced up at the police officers talking on their radio in their car, I spoke quickly, “Lainey can keep me updated on how the investigation is going. She has a way of wiggling information out of her dad. If the police don’t find any evidence that will lead them to a suspect, I promise I’ll turn the book in. I want whoever did this to Freddie caught and punished!”

  I could see in his eyes that he thought I was crazy not to turn the book in now, but he didn’t know that Freddie had tried to give me the book because he’d truly believed I was the rightful owner. I owed it to Freddie to find out why the stranger, who’d entrusted him with the book all those years ago, believed it was so important.

  As the police officers got out of their car, I squeezed his arm and lowered my voice, “That book was very special to Freddie. If I’m the reason that guy who stole my journal came after that sweet old man, because I somehow unknowingly led him here…” I paused and choked back a new round of guilty tears. I sniffed and finished, “The least I can do is keep the book safe and not let Freddie’s death be in vain. God, why didn’t I dream this part? I could’ve saved him!” Why didn’t I take the book? Maybe Freddie would still be alive if I had.

  Drystan wrapped his arm around my shoulders and spoke quietly next to my ear. “Don’t blame yourself, Nara. You said that coming here wasn’t in your dream last night. Tonight may be from ’ell, but there’s one good thing; between my hoodie and the lack of lighting, I don’t think the bloke I stole the books from got a good look at me either. Freddie’s book should be safe with you, especially under Houdini’s protective guard.”

  I only had time to whisper “thank you” when the two police officers walked past the back of my car and the lanky, blond-haired one stepped forward, saying, “Were you the young lady who called nine-one-one about a break-in?”

 
* * *

  When I walked into the house at midnight, Mom was waiting for me. Her posture was stiff as she stood up from one of the barstools, her lips set in a hard line. Houdini immediately woofed his greeting.

  “Nara! Where have you been? I sent you a couple of texts, then left a voice mail—what’s wrong? You’ve been crying.” She immediately rushed to my side and gripped my shoulders. “Are you hurt?”

  Even though the police had assured Drystan and me that our identities would be kept confidential, and the media would never know who reported the murder to the police, they still took down our names and addresses in case they needed to get into contact with us later, which meant, I couldn’t keep this from my mom. I was exhausted from the grueling questions from the police, but I knew this couldn’t wait until morning.

  I shook my head and clasped my mom’s hand as I led her back to the stools. “I was just interviewed by the police for over an hour.”

  “Whatever for? Did someone try to hurt you?” Mom asked in a higher pitch as she sat down beside me.

  “It wasn’t about me.” My hands shook as I ran them down my face to help settle my nerves so I could tell her the same story I told the police. “An older man I interviewed this week for a project I’m working on for school was killed sometime last night. I’d forgotten my notebook at his house. Since he lived all the way out in Afton and it was nighttime when I realized it, I asked Drystan to go out there with me to retrieve it.” I took a steadying breath. “That’s when we discovered the break-in and Freddie’s…I mean, Mr. Holtzman’s body,” my voice broke as I finished. “It was pretty awful, Mom.”

  “I’m so sorry! Thank God Drystan was with you.” Mom wrapped her arms around me. “I understand if you don’t want to rehash the horrible details.” Pulling back a little, she brushed my hair away from my face. “I’ve never lost anyone to a violent death, so I can only imagine how you must be feeling. With everything that’s happened recently—the scare with the shooting and now this—if you want to go to counseling to help you work through it, I’ll get a referral from our doctor for the best counselor.”

  I shook my head. “I can handle it. It’s just that…he was a very nice man, who didn’t deserve what happened to him.” Curling my hands into fists, I ground out, “I hope they catch the sick bastard who did this!”

  Mom’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. She probably figured my anger was good therapy.

  I sighed and let my shoulders slump. “I’ll be fine, Mom. I’m just exhausted and sad. Right now I just want to go to bed.”

  Mom walked me upstairs and once I’d climbed under the covers, she even patted the bed to encourage Houdini to keep me company. Rubbing the top of his head, she said in a soft voice, “Nara needs your special animal love, Houdini. Make sure you give her an extra dose tonight.”

  She studied me pensively, then turned and left the room. A couple of minutes later, she handed me a tablet and some water. “I can tell your head hurts. Take this and get some sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

  I did as she asked, but as soon as mom left my room, I grabbed my phone and started to dial Ethan’s number. I was just about to hit Send when I remembered he’d gone skiing with his dad. With a grunt of frustration, I pulled Ethan’s journal and Freddie’s book from under my mattress.

  As I ran my fingers across the metal corners on the blue book, tears blurred my vision. I blinked them away and tried to focus, turning to page one. Maybe I missed something of importance while flipping through it at Freddie’s house. I’d only read through the first ten pages when my eyes began to droop.

  I jerked my head upright and blinked, trying to clear my head once more, but my eyes blurred. I rubbed them and yawned so loud that Houdini raised his head.

  “Why can’t I keep my eyes open?” I slurred right before I fell asleep with the book tucked against my chest.

  * * *

  My eyes flew open, my heart pumping as if I’d been dosed with adrenaline all night long. Slamming my fist on my covers, I jarred Houdini awake as I said to him, “She gave me that awful PM headache medicine!” Argh! No wonder I felt like I was having heart palpitations. Everything in my dreams flew by in supersonic speed. Useless, of course. Now that he was awake, Houdini wasn’t about to be ignored. Once I returned to my room from taking him out, Patch was impatiently waiting at the window.

  As soon as I let Patch in, he flew to the raven statue, even bypassing his regular paper shredding ritual. I laughed and handed him a piece of kibble, then did the same for Houdini. The dog settled at the end of my bed, chin on his paws, eyes watching the bird for any sudden aggressive movements.

  I snorted that I was being completely ignored by both animals, but at least their distraction with each other let me focus on Freddie’s book. I crawled back into bed and started reading where I’d left off last night. I was about a third of the way through the book when Patch squawked at something and Houdini gave a startled bark. I jumped at the sounds and one of the book’s corners caught on my sheet.

  “Settle boys,” I said as I closed the book so I could gently untangle the sheet from the metal corner. The last thing I wanted was to inadvertently break it off. I turned the book cover and pulled at the sheet with a gentle tug. When the material slid free, I exhaled and started to flip the book back over into my hand when my gaze locked on the spine, specifically the gold symbol.

  I gasped and ran my fingers along the intricate swirls. It looked just like…

  I lifted the pendant from under my shirt and compared the silver charm my grandmother had given me to the symbol on the spine. They appeared to be the same design.

  My heart accelerated in steadily increasing thumps as I pulled the long necklace over my head, then held the pendant between my fingers beside the spine to compare them. They were identical. Were they the same size too? I moved my silver pendant over the gold symbol. As soon as I lined them up, the pendant flew from my fingers, attaching itself to the symbol on the spine.

  I let out a gasp and jerked upright in my bed. When I gently lifted my chain out of the way, that’s when I noticed that the half moon brass plate at the base of the book’s spine had flipped open. The moment I slid my pendant away from the symbol on the spine, the brass half moon slammed shut. “No way!” I whispered, glancing at Houdini. His only response was to tilt his head as if he were trying to understand what I was saying.

  I placed the pendant back on the symbol. When the brass plate at the bottom popped open again, I peered into the dark space between the spine and the book’s binding. “What are you hiding?” I tilted the book. Nothing. As I shook it gently, a thin roll of parchment paper slid into my lap.

  “I’m so sorry, Freddie. I had no idea…” I said in a hushed, regretful tone. I picked up the paper, then gently began to unroll it with shaking fingers.

  No taller than four inches high and six inches wide, the paper featured a drawing of a raven flying toward the sun, another raven standing with its wings folded on the ground, then yet another raven flying below the ground where the raven stood. They weren’t drawn vertically, but diagonally from each other. I wasn’t sure if the drawing was supposed to depict one raven in three different positions, standing, flying up, and then flying down, or if it was supposed to represent three different ravens. I scanned the picture, my greedy gaze memorizing every detail. Was this what the thief wanted? Why was it worth killing for? What did the drawing mean?

  Maybe if I drew it myself, it might give me some idea behind its meaning. I leaned over and grabbed a pen and Ethan’s journal. As soon as I flipped to an empty page, the stiff paper in my hand suddenly felt flimsy. I glanced at the unrolled paper and watched in disbelief as it began to grow thinner and thinner until it completely disintegrated in my hand, joining the dust flickering in the sunlight.

  I gaped at my empty hand, then slid my gaze to Houdini’s. “That was real! Not some crazy hallucination. You saw that, right?”

  He just blinked. Patch wasn’t p
aying us any attention. He was too busy playing with my necklace on the statue.

  I set my pen to the page, intending to draw as fast as I could before the image faded from my mind, then I paused. That picture was hidden for a reason. A man died protecting it. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to recreate it. At least not until I could figure out what it meant. I stared at the blank page for several minutes, wracking my brain for answers to the meaning behind the picture. When a text beeped on my phone, I jumped. Holding my hand over my thudding heart, I grabbed my phone to check the text. Maybe Ethan had gotten back early.

  Drystan – 8:30 a.m. ~ Don’t forget. Nine a.m.

  “Really, Drystan?” As if he heard me, another text came through.

  Drystan – 8:31 a.m. ~ No excuses. You need the distraction.

  I didn’t want to sit around thinking about how if I’d only believed Freddie and taken the book, he might still be alive. I pulled my necklace away from the spine and watched the brass plate pop back into place. Once I’d put the necklace back on, I texted him.

  Me – 8:32 a.m. ~ See you at nine, slave driver.

  Drystan – 8:33 a.m. ~ Water.

  Me – 8:33 a.m. ~ Yeah, yeah. You still owe me a latte.

  It was after eight-thirty. No time for a shower. I’d be late again if I didn’t hurry. I ripped off my sleep t-shirt, then removed the necklace, but I paused to stare at the pendant before I slid it into my jewelry box. Did my grandmother know that her necklace was a key to unlocking a hidden picture people would kill for? Did she know what the picture meant or why it was so important? When Drystan and I were done for the day, I’d call Gran and find out what she knew about the necklace.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Why did I have to find out what happened to you last night from my dad, of all people?” Lainey literally pounced on me, hugging me tight, the moment I walked in from my workout with Drystan.