“And what message would that send?” I shook my head. “No, I can’t run and hide anymore. I’m going to stand up for what I believe in, even if it means I have to take a few hits every now and then.”
A kiss against a knuckle missing all of its skin. “I don’t like seeing you hit.”
“Well, to be quite honest, I don’t like being hit unless it’s by you.” As soon as it was out of my mouth, I realized what I had said. “That sounded all sorts of wrong.”
“Insanely so, actually.”
“To be clear,” I said to any overhearing ears, “I hit him back--”
“Hard.”
“It’s a very give-and-take, non-abuse type hitting situation…”
The sides of Liam’s mouth folded up like an accordion. “You should probably stop now.”
“I’m trying. My mouth keeps moving of its own accord.”
I felt the vibrations of Liam’s laugh as he pulled me once again into his arms. “Go with me,” he whispered against the top of my head.
“Stay,” I countered.
“I can’t.”
Tears threatened, but I blinked them back. “Neither can I.”
Chapter 31
“Banana splits are too health food. It’s dairy and fruit and nuts. Dairy and fruit and nuts are good for you.” Angel spooned up more sugary goodness from the bowl that was as big as she was. “Tell him, Scout.”
“The kid is right. Dairy, fruits, and nuts are indeed good for you. We know. Our mom is a nurse.”
The Strip was crowded, which was pretty much standard operating procedure for the summer. Tourists and locals swarmed to the only place in Lake County with anything that could pass as entertainment. I liked it well enough on rainy days and at the end of the season when the temperature dropped and everyone else had grown weary of its charm, but being there on a sun-shiny July Saturday was akin to torture, especially after the complete circus of the last three months. We had only been there for fifteen minutes and already three people had come over to either ask if I was that Scout (like there are five or six of us running around) or express their sympathies over those long months I had spent as a hostage of God’s Army of Defenders. It was the same every single time I went out in public. For some reason people thought I would want to tell them all about “my personal tragedy” (CNN’s wording) when I refused to grant an interview to every single media outlet in the world.
“Milk is good for you. Ice cream is not,” Joshua, who was living with us for the summer, countered.
“Ice cream is made of milk,” Jase added helpfully.
“So is the whipped cream,” Charlie chimed in.
“She wasn’t lying about the fruit either. Bananas, pineapple, and strawberries. It’s like a vitamin explosion.”
“And that would be the final nail in your argument’s coffin,” I said. “Talley is, as always, the deciding vote. You lose.”
“Loser, loser, loser,” Angel chanted. “Joshua is a big, fat L-O-S-E-R!” The second, third, and fourth verse were the exact same as the first.
It was good to be home.
I took a deep breath, delighting in the humidity laden air. Sure, it smelled of fish guts and sweaty children, but it was Timber air. At moments like this, when I was surrounded by the familiar, I could almost convince myself things were back to normal. It was hard to remember all the death threats (which had slowed from daily to weekly), Really Important Decisions (which I had to make with alarming frequency), or blood I had spilled when the teacher’s aide from my kindergarten class was munching on a hamburger ten feet away from where my little sister was being slung over the shoulder of an 80 year old teenager.
Okay, maybe “normal” was pushing it.
“But you said we could ride go karts,” Angel wailed, bringing my thoughts back to the here and now.
“They were full. We had to get a reservation,” Jase explained for perhaps the twentieth time.
“When’s our reserve?”
“Reservation,” I said. “And it’s at two o’clock.”
Angel pushed a stray curl out of her face. “What time is it now?”
“Fifteen minutes until two,” I said. Which means it’s 9:45 in Romania.
Not that I kept up with what time it was in Romania and thought about what a person there might be doing at any given time of the day. Nope. Not me. I wasn’t one of those crazy kind-of-not-really girlfriends. I mean, it wasn’t like I constantly thought about him and sometimes, like when I was hanging with my favorite people on earth at The Strip, swore I smelled him on the breeze or anything.
God, I was a sad, pathetic excuse for a human being.
“Fifteen minutes? It’ll take us an hour to walk there!”
Joshua, who had released Angel only when she agreed to hand over her banana split, pointed with the long, red spoon. “Those go-karts over there? It’ll take us an hour to walk across the street?”
“Yes!”
I couldn’t decide if she really didn’t have a firm grasp of time and space, or if she was being overly dramatic. Either way, it was kind of hysterical, especially since it seemed to really bug Joshua. Don’t get me wrong, I like the guy, but he’s really fun to annoy.
“We probably need to go anyway,” I said, peeling myself off the plastic picnic bench. “There will be a line--”
The world ceased to exist around me as I became entangled in a stare. He didn’t smile or give any other indication that he was happy to see me, but I knew.
You always know with your mate.
I started to cross the street, but then had a better idea. “Go on without me,” I said over my shoulder as I headed back towards the lake. There was a moment of indecision when I wasn’t sure which tree was the tree, but eventually I found it and made myself comfortable. I didn’t have to wait long.
“So, the guy sitting on the next bench down from me--”
“He smells like Play-Doh.” I threw up a hand to shield my eyes from the glaring sun.
“Why?”
“It’s one of life’s greatest mysteries. I don’t think we will ever know.”
Liam sat down across from me. I wanted to reach out and touch him to verify his existence, but I didn’t. A part of me knew he wouldn’t mind, that he would want me to. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the part of my brain controlling my motor functions. That part imagined how much it would hurt if he pulled away or looked uncomfortable at the contact. So, I sat there, hands in my lap, and tried to appease myself by looking at him.
“We could ask him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” The urge to touch wasn’t fading, so I leaned back against the trunk, putting more distance between us. “I don’t know where you come up with these crazy ideas.”
It wasn’t like we hadn’t talked over the last few months. We sent emails (social networking sites weren’t really a great place for me to be, so we had to kick it old school), called, texted, and even had a weekly Skype check-in. Still, it was different to see him in person, to be able to see each of the folds in his cheeks when he smiled.
“Any new Challenges?” I asked to divert my attention.
“Just two since Wednesday; one backed down as soon as I walked into the room.”
“And the other?”
Liam plucked a blade of grass from the ground. “Dead.”
Which brought the total up to four. With each failed Challenge, I hoped it would be the last. It wasn’t that I doubted Liam’s ability to always prevail, but I worried about the scars it was leaving on his soul. We had already revoked the fight-to-the-death clause of Challenges, but there were some who refused to submit, no matter how badly they were beaten. I couldn’t decide if I found those men audacious or stupid.
“I had a Challenger from the Logsdon Pack show up this morning.”
Liam froze mid-pluck. “At your house?”
“Yeah, but he never got around to actually issuing the Challenge. Apparently he was one of Talley’s former suitors, so Jase answered the door with
Joshua’s sword. I think the poor guy may have cried a little.”
Liam went back to ridding the earth of grass one blade at a time with a chuckle. I was about to ask him if he had heard any more about the pack of Siberian Husky Shifters someone was rumored to know when he looked up with a frown.
“Why are you wearing that face?” he asked.
I touched my cheek. Thanks to my mom and Gramma Hagan, I was starting to gain weight, but my cheekbone still stuck out a bit too far.
“This is the face God gave me,” I said, trying to hide the hurt in my voice. “I can’t exactly take it off and put it on a shelf.”
“I’m talking about this.” A finger brushed against my mouth. “And this.” He tapped the corner of each eye.
“Those came with the face. It was a package deal.”
“Did they come all scrunched up like that? Because, in my experience, you only look like that when you’re stressed or frustrated.” He huffed out a breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Is it because I’m here? I should have called you first. Sorry. I just wanted to surprise you.”
Something in my chest felt warm, probably the last little piece of my heart melting for him.
“I’m frustrated because I want to touch you so bad I’m literally hurting my hand to prevent it, and I’m stressed because I don’t know how you’ll react when I lose control.”
Liam looked at me like I was an alien for about half a second before crawling over me, one hand finding the back of my head to drag my lips to his. He was enthusiastic in his kiss, and I responded in kind. I didn’t realize how much I missed the taste and feel of him until he was in my arms.
Nearly two years had passed since Liam and I first met at this very spot. So much had happened; so much had changed. I wasn’t sure what brought us to this point - fate, destiny, or merely the choices we made - but I wasn’t sorry for it. I regretted the pain I caused others and mourned the lives lost, but I knew I was where I was supposed to be. It wasn’t a happily ever after. We had more than our fair share of challenges and Challenges ahead of us, but we were heading in the right direction. Liam and I are going to make the world a better place. Together. And for us, it’s enough.
Scout’s journey may be over, but the world of Shifters & Seers
lives on...
New series
coming in 2013!
Acknowledgements
I’m just starting to accept the fact that Scout’s journey began in the first place, so I can’t even begin to comprehend the fact it’s over. This entire process has been beyond my dreams and expectations. I sincerely thank each and every person who has walked this path with me. Thank you for taking a chance on a self-published book, for loving the characters like I do, and for encouraging me to keep going, even when it wasn’t easy.
Thanks are also owed to...
My early readers, Crystal Blackwell and Jennifer Noffsinger, who push me to keep coming up with more words. These have been my go-to girls from the very beginning, believing I could do it even when I wasn’t so sure I could finish a chapter, let alone a whole trilogy.
Alyson Beecher and Erin Lowery, who have looked at messy first drafts and helped me find the story hidden within. Scout (and I) owe you a lot.
Victoria Faye, the best cover illustrator in the business, for making me look good.
Dr. Joe Lowery, who answers all my uneducated science questions with patience and in a way I can actually understand.
The Beta Fish. Scout wouldn’t have existed without you, and you’ve helped her find her way time and time again. Each of you will always hold a very special place in my heart.
Jennifer Sanders and Lydia Powell for being such awesome new beta-readers. Your guidance was greatly appreciated!
Leslie Mitchell, for letting me be her test-run as a freelance editor. If there are errors in here, it means I changed something after she looked at it.
Sarah Pace-McGowan, who finds all my lost commas and only asks for a free meal in return. This time, we’re eating steak!
Everyone at the Marshall County Public Library. Life would be much less bearable if I didn’t love my day job so much.
Holli Powell at Thrive Consulting for not only taking care of my finances, but also being an awesome friend who makes awesome playlists.
Samantha Young, my first “fellow writer” friend. You are awesome. One day I’m going to visit Scotland and buy you a drink.
All the UtopYA girls, especially Abbi Glines, for being fantabulous.
My friends - Becky, Dusty, Jason, Shauna, Matthew, Jennifer, Robby, Kelly, and Crystal - for dealing with my constant distraction and whining. If I’ve forgotten an important event or date in your life over the past two years, my sincerest apologies.
Haley, for being the best kid in the world. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say.
My parents, who made me the person I am today. I would be nowhere without their love and support. My greatest regret is that my father didn’t live long enough to see me become a published writer. I know, without a doubt, he would have been my biggest and most vocal fan.
To all the people who have blogged about my books; wrote a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or another site; or simply told a friend about Scout, I will forever be indebted to you. Thank you for helping me live my dream.
About the Author
Tammy Blackwell is a Young Adult Services Coordinator for a public library system in Kentucky. When she’s not reading, writing, cataloging, or talking about YA books, she’s sleeping. You can follow her on Twitter (@Miss_Tammy), write to her at [email protected] or visit her at www.misstammywrites.com.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Fate Succumbs Page 26