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Half-Born (Half-Blood Chronicles #1) (The Half-Blood Chronicles)

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by Ivy Baum




  Copyright © 2020 by Ivy Baum

  Cover by Deranged Doctor Designs

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

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  Contents

  1. Chapter 1

  2. Chapter 2

  3. Chapter 3

  4. Chapter 4

  5. Chapter 5

  6. Chapter 6

  7. Chapter 7

  8. Chapter 8

  9. Chapter 9

  10. Chapter 10

  11. Chapter 11

  12. Chapter 12

  13. Chapter 13

  14. Chapter 14

  15. Chapter 15

  16. Chapter 16

  17. Chapter 17

  18. Chapter 18

  19. Chapter 19

  20. Chapter 20

  21. Chapter 21

  22. Chapter 22

  23. Chapter 23

  24. Chapter 24

  25. Chapter 25

  26. Chapter 26

  27. Chapter 27

  28. Chapter 28

  29. Chapter 29

  30. Chapter 30

  31. Chapter 31

  32. Chapter 32

  33. Chapter 33

  34. Chapter 34

  35. Chapter 35

  36. Chapter 36

  37. Chapter 37

  38. Chapter 38

  39. Chapter 39

  40. Chapter 40

  41. Chapter 41

  42. Chapter 42

  43. Chapter 43

  44. Chapter 44

  45. Chapter 45

  46. Chapter 46

  47. Chapter 47

  48. Chapter 48

  49. Chapter 49

  50. Chapter 50

  51. Chapter 51

  52. Chapter 52

  53. Chapter 53

  54. Chapter 54

  55. Chapter 55

  56. Chapter 56

  57. Chapter 57

  58. Chapter 58

  59. Chapter 59

  60. Chapter 60

  61. Chapter 61

  62. Chapter 62

  63. Chapter 63

  64. Chapter 64

  65. Chapter 65

  66. Chapter 66

  67. Chapter 67

  Coming June 2020…

  About the Author

  Also By Ivy Baum

  Chapter 1

  It had been a mistake to come to Sydney Sotheby’s party.

  I knew it even as I watched Mom’s car pull out of the semi-circular driveway.

  By then, of course, it was too late.

  Mom was on her way to work the graveyard shift at the hospital, and wouldn’t be home until morning.

  I should’ve known better.

  I did know better. But with everything that had happened lately, I just wanted to do something normal.

  Besides, Sydney was turning eighteen, and she was my best friend.

  Or at least she used to be.

  My steps slowed as I approached the house, imposingly large even by Silver Oaks standards.

  Once, this place was like a second home to me. Now it felt strange and forbidding.

  You don’t have a choice.

  My boyfriend, Rain, was already at the party. He was my ride home.

  The door swung open.

  Junie Roberts greeted me with a big, fake smile.

  My heart sank. Where was Syd?

  “Wow, Kes, you made it,” she gushed. “I didn’t know the bus went all the way to Silver Oaks.”

  She hurried away to a familiar side table, where rows of painted plastic cups awaited.

  See? Nothing’s changed.

  I stepped inside, out of the chill night air—and into the Sothebys’ cavernous foyer.

  Junie handed me a cup. It was filled to the brim with something that smelled like coconut and rubbing alcohol.

  I turned the cup around, wondering what design Syd had done this year—

  —and did a double-take.

  The name on the cup was Kestrelle.

  She spelled your name wrong.

  For a second, I felt disbelief. We may have drifted apart lately, but I was pretty sure that Sydney knew how to spell my name.

  That was when I noticed the rest of the cup. A sloppy mess of moons and stars, and a barely legible “18” on the back.

  Syd definitely hadn’t painted this cup.

  And I was pretty sure I knew who had.

  I glanced up, intending to tell Junie how my name was really spelled. But she was already turning away. There was a pair of Diet Doctor Peppers tucked under her arm—Syd’s favorite pre-party drink.

  It doesn’t mean anything. But the knot in my stomach tightened.

  Reluctantly, I called after her. “Have you seen Rain?”

  Junie turned. The smirk on her face instantly made me regret asking her.

  “You don’t know where he is? Why don’t you text him or something?”

  I nodded as though that had never occurred to me.

  Junie headed for the kitchen. Probably on her way to the stairs at the back of the house—the ones Syd jokingly referred to as the “Servants’ Stairs.” They went straight up to her bedroom on the third floor.

  Which was where I should be.

  So go.

  I tried to make myself follow her. I’d gone up those stairs a million times before.

  But my legs wouldn’t move.

  You’re not welcome there.

  Besides, did I really want to watch Junie fawn all over her? I’d see Syd soon enough.

  I headed for the main party.

  The guests had congregated in the Sothebys’ giant great room, which had been decorated to within an inch of its life. Black and silver balloons, glitter, Chinese lanterns—even a banner reading Happy 18th Birthday Sydney!

  I moved through the crowd, looking for a familiar face. Someone who would make me feel like I wasn’t surrounded by strangers.

  Except that they weren’t strangers. These were all kids from White Falls High. Kids I’d known since kindergarten.

  No, I was the stranger.

  Lacey and Erin were across the room, standing under the giant portrait of Syd and her parents. I made a beeline for them.

  When they saw me coming, they stopped talking and exchanged a look I had come to recognize—and despise.

  I pasted on an unconvincing smile.

  “Hey, have you seen Rain?”

  Erin avoided my eyes. “I don’t think he’s here yet.”

  Lacey frowned. “Didn’t he go outside with—”

  Erin elbowed her—hard enough that some of her drink sloshed over the rim and splashed onto my shoes.

  She giggled. “Oh, right.”

  Maybe Rain had gone out to Syd’s old treehouse to smoke a joint with Ezra. It would explain why he wasn’t answering my texts.

  “Well, if you see him, tell him I’m looking for him, okay?”

  I turned to walk away—but not before noticing that the name on Lacey’s cup was spelled correctly.
>
  It wasn’t like it was that hard to spell my name.

  Kestrel, like the bird, I used to tell people.

  That always made Syd laugh. I just think it’s cute that you think people actually know what a kestrel is.

  The Syd I knew never would’ve handed out a misspelled cup. Her painted cups were a point of pride. She made them for every occasion—birthdays, soccer meets, even exam days.

  In our old house, those cups had taken up an entire shelf in the kitchen. Now I suspected that they were in a hastily-packed storage bin under Mom’s bed.

  There was a familiar lump in my throat.

  Great. I was about to cry in the middle of the living room. As if I needed another reason for people to avoid me.

  I hurried toward the bathroom. But as I got closer, I saw a clump of girls clustered outside.

  I couldn’t handle them. Not tonight. The abrupt silence—or worse, the oh-so-innocent questions.

  Better go somewhere I knew I’d be alone.

  By the time I got to the double doors leading to the master bedroom, my eyes were already blurring. It didn’t matter. I navigated by touch until I found the light switch.

  The palatial en suite bathroom had always been our favorite hangout.

  Back before the Sothebys had renovated it, the entire bathroom was covered in plush white carpet. Sometimes we’d spend half the night there, huddled next to the jetted bath-tub.

  This was where, in seventh grade, Syd had told me she’d let a boy get to second base with her. And where, in freshman year, she’d gigglingly told me that Brendan Thorn, a junior, thought I was hot. I’d ended up going to Junior Prom with him…and regretting it.

  Last year, they’d ripped out the carpet and redone the whole thing.

  Syd hated it. Now it’s like a freaking modern art installation. Cool white marble and dark wood—beautiful, but no longer cozy.

  The only comfortable thing left was an overstuffed ottoman in front of the vanity.

  As I sat, I caught sight of myself—a wary stranger with dark circles under her eyes.

  Of course. I hadn’t had a good night of sleep in weeks. Months, even.

  Last night was another bad one. Waking up out of a dead sleep to—what? A hallucination?

  It never seemed quite real in the daylight. But now those strange visions seemed to haunt my reflection.

  I even looked like a crazy person. Dark hair spilled messily around my shoulders, and my skin was more pale and sallow than ever.

  You used to be normal.

  Exactly one year ago, I’d stood in front of this very mirror with Syd as we got ready for our joint seventeenth birthday party. My birthday was only a week after hers, so it made sense to celebrate together.

  Slutty Seventeen. I’d been embarrassed to send out the invitations with that on it, but Syd had insisted.

  Say goodbye to Sweet Sixteen.

  This year, she hadn’t even let me help plan her party. In fact, she’d been avoiding me ever since she’d gotten back from her family’s annual trip to the San Juan Islands.

  When I asked her about it, she acted like it was no big deal.

  It’s just that I’m so busy, Kes. Everyone is. Senior year, you know?

  Last year was a different story. Back then, her motto was Fuck Junior Year.

  Next year, she’d say, we’ll be seniors and all this will be behind us. And then we’ll have the best year ever.

  But that was before.

  I pulled out my phone and re-read my last few messages to Rain.

  6:32. What time do you think you’ll be at the party?

  6:40. On my way to Sydney’s. See you there!

  6:54. Just got here!

  And my latest, unsent. Where are you?

  When he’d told me he couldn’t drive me to Syd’s party—sorry, last-minute crew practice—I’d been annoyed. But not worried.

  Now it felt like a bad omen.

  You’re just upset he’s missing your birthday.

  With that thought, the last of my tears dried up.

  I shoved the phone into my tiny purse with a new sense of resolve.

  I was going back out there. And then I’d go straight up to Syd’s bedroom.

  She’d tell me where Rain was.

  Why hadn’t I gone up earlier?

  This is all in your head, I told myself sternly.

  But when I emerged from the master bedroom, there was a small crowd gathered around the main stairs.

  Syd had emerged.

  Girls had been calling her ‘Barbie’ behind her back since fifth grade, but that was never quite right. She was more like a goddess in some Renaissance painting, aglow with some inner light.

  She hadn’t noticed me yet. I crept closer—and was disappointed to see that she wasn’t wearing the earrings I’d bought her for her birthday.

  No, she was wearing what she always wore: a chunky silver pendant, neither stylish nor particularly feminine. It definitely didn’t match her outfit tonight—an off-the-shoulder white dress.

  I mentioned it to her once—how she never seemed to take off that necklace.

  She’d looked startled, maybe even a little embarrassed.

  It was a present from my dad. He gets upset when I don’t wear it.

  So you never take it off? I didn’t exactly blame her—Dr. Sotheby was intimidating, and he wasn’t even my father.

  Her smile had turned sly. Only when I’m about to hook up.

  She saw me, then.

  As our eyes met, a fleeting look of alarm crossed her face. Like she hadn’t expected me.

  Then Syd’s face lit up with her trademark megawatt smile, and she pushed through the crowd.

  She swooped in for a hug. “Kes! You made it!”

  That threw me off. Had she thought I wouldn’t come?

  Junie, who had trailed her, smirked.

  Payback time. I raised the stupid painted cup, which I’d held on to all this time, making sure my misspelled name faced out.

  Syd’s eyes fell on the cup. For just a second, I thought I saw something cross her face—confusion, or guilt.

  But then she laughed. “Oh, Junie, you dyslexic cow.”

  She said it fondly, and Junie beamed.

  I swallowed my disappointment. Maybe it wasn’t as big a deal as I thought.

  “Hey, have you seen—”

  Lacey and Erin came running up.

  And just like that, Syd wasn’t looking at me any more. In fact, she seemed to have forgotten me entirely.

  “He’s here, isn’t he?”

  Lacey nodded.

  “I still look hot, right?”

  “So hot,” Erin assured her.

  I didn’t need to ask who they were talking about.

  For the first time, I found myself seriously considering walking out of there.

  And it would be a very long walk. Because Junie was right. The bus went nowhere near Silver Oaks.

  But it was starting to look like a halfway decent option.

  As if this night couldn’t get any worse, now I was going to have to deal with Sol Kyrion.

  Chapter 2

  They hurried toward the front door. I watched them go.

  No, I wouldn’t follow them. Not even to spend time with Syd. She wouldn’t have noticed me there, anyway. Not with him here.

  What did she see in a guy like Sol?

  And it wasn’t just Syd. Everyone at White Falls was obsessed with him.

  Sure, he was handsome—if you were into guys with a permanent smirk.

  But Rain was at least as handsome as Sol, and he would never have humiliated a girl in public.

  Two weeks ago, Syd had gone up to Sol at second lunch and asked if he wanted to take her to the Homecoming Dance.

  Sol had only just started at White Falls. You’d think he’d be grateful that the most popular girl in school was asking him out. But he’d turned her down flat.

  Somehow, this had only increased his popularity—and Syd’s desire to go after him. Sh
e could’ve had any guy she wanted—even Rain, if I was being completely honest. But she was obsessed with Sol.

  He’s got charisma, Lacey had gushed. And people at school seemed to flock to him.

  But for whatever reason, I couldn’t stand to be around him.

  I told myself it was because he was arrogant. Overconfident.

  But if I was being honest, I had to admit that maybe timing had something to do with it. Because Sol Kyrion had shown up exactly around the time my life had started to fall apart.

  I turned and headed the other way. Time to find Rain.

  Most of the areas beyond the great room and kitchen were off-limits at parties. But just past the great room, there was another room—so small that it was practically an alcove.

  Syd called it Party Room B.

  It was one of the few rooms where CeCe Sotheby had relaxed her iron grip on the decor. There was a large, comfortable couch, a giant television, and a gaming system—which, judging by Rain’s reaction to it, was top of the line.

  Big parties like this weren’t really his thing. I often found he’d wandered over here—especially if he’d been smoking pot with Ezra.

  But when I got there, I was disappointed.

  Sitting on the L-shaped couch, absorbed in some sort of shooting game, were Gareth Weir and Rob Blandish.

  I frowned. Why were they here?

  Guys like these never got invited to Syd’s parties. They were nobodies. In fact, I doubted Syd even knew they existed.

 

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