Good. Weird, but good. If I had glamoured him accidentally he would be focused on me almost exclusively. So he wasn’t glamoured.
He was just… I risked a peek back. Yeah. He was looking at me again. He caught my eye and smiled. I exhaled through my teeth, packing up my books. Not surprisingly, pre —calc was going to be a waste of time for me.
Just like the rest of the classes. I imagined college would be a little more interesting, but maybe not by much.
I sighed. I needed to attend class to appear normal. At least literature and history were somewhat interesting, if only because it was subjective. I liked hearing the different opinions people had on what the great writers and figures in human history had been thinking.
Mostly because it made me laugh. The way people thought was so limiting. Not every author had some higher purpose to teach future generations. A lot of the meaning for them was in the act of writing and sharing their thoughts. They had cherished the act of examining the beauty in the smallness of human life, not trying to make Nand, sweeping statements about the meaning of life. And since Caleb had known some of those great writers in person, I knew a wee bit more than I should about them.
I went to my locker and put my books away, already bored to tears. Suck it up, buttercup. A random teenage runaway was much more conspicuous than a shy girl attending classes.
In truth, I was far from shy. And I sucked at keeping my mouth shut. But I had to. Our lives depended on it.
After all, a high school in rural North Carolina was the last place the New Leaders would be looking for me. Yes, that’s what the traitors called themselves. And as ridiculous as it sounded, the name had stuck.
I snickered to myself every time I thought about it. It sounded like a 90s boy band. I could almost imagine them, four ancient Vampires in shiny black leather, singing and dancing in unison while teenage girls screamed.
I couldn’t wait to tell them that. Just before I tore their heads off and saved my father. I’d even come up with fake song titles and bad lyrics for them.
I’m a cheesy Vampire, baby
Let me suck you up
I might be cold, but I’m hot for you
Boop bop beep oooo
Yeah, I could go on forever. I was very easily entertained. It was a good thing too, considering all I did in my spare time was train.
“Hey. Are you a Senior?”
I shook my head. The bell had barely rung and Mr. Blue Eyes was there, standing at my side. He was almost as sneaky as a freaking vamp!
“No, I’m a Junior.”
“Wow, you must be really smart.”
I raised my eyebrows, forgetting to hide my eyes.
“I guess.”
I was freaking smart dammit. But being an honor student was just part of my cover. Maybe I should tone it down a bit… get a B or something.
But that would make Caleb lose his damn mind. I almost smiled, imagining him trying to ground me. Princesses do not get B’s.
“Wow, your eyes…”
I flinched. I did not want him staring into my eyes. Ugh. I realized I must have forgotten my color contacts. They muted the unusual color and seemed to help with the accidental hypnotism as well.
“What about them?”
My voice sounded a little sharp, but I couldn’t help it. My eyes were the one visibly weird thing about me. They were not in the normal range of human eye colors and I was self —conscious about them.
I hated them, to be honest. I said they were like rat eyes, though Caleb told me they looked like Liz Taylor’s. He said that they were beautiful.
He even made me watch some old movies to prove it.
“They are sort of purple. No, they’re violet.”
I shrugged and grabbed my stuff. This kid was making me nervous now. He’d stared directly into my bare eyes and what — not even a hint of mindless adoration?
I must be losing my touch.
“Yeah, I guess it’s a genetic mutation or something. It’s worse under fluorescent lights.”
He smiled and I felt the tension go out of my body. I’d expected a comment about rodents or fake contacts. If only he knew how unusual my eyes really were…
“They’re nice.”
I watched him walk away, staring after his broad back and long legs. Nice? My eyes were nice?
That was… the most ordinary compliment I’d ever gotten.
“Miss Wallace?”
I realized I was standing in the middle of the empty classroom. I shook myself and hurried to my next class.
Yeah, being back in high school was a boatload of freaking fun.
Turn the page for an excerpt of DreamShifters Book Two
Moon Bound
Dean
"Stay away from me."
My eyes fluttered open. I was laying on the ground. Above me faint light filtered through the trees. It was early in the morning from the looks of it. And it was freezing.
"What the—"
"I said stay away from me!"
I turned my head to see Krista kneeling on the ground with a long stick pointed at me. Right at my chest.
A very sharp stick.
Her big brown eyes were wide with fear. Her back was pressed up against a tree trunk. She looked like she was shivering.
From the cold or fear, I wasn't sure which.
"Krista?"
"Don't!"
I ran my hand through my hair and brushed the leaves away. I grimaced, expecting to be stiff after sleeping on the ground all night.
Instead I felt good. Really good.
In fact, I felt fantastic.
"What the hell happened?"
She whimpered and waved the stick menacingly. I almost laughed. She was about as threatening as a kitten. I grabbed the stick and tossed it away playfully.
That's when I noticed her eyes were filling up with tears.
"Hey… it's okay Krista. I'm not going to hurt you."
She scrambled away and was on her feet in an instant. I reached out and grabbed her just as she started to run. It was like taking candy from a baby.
I could tell that she was frightened of something. I wanted to tell her not to be scared. That I would protect her.
Always.
But I had a terrible feeling that the something she was afraid of was me.
"Krista, what's wrong? Did something happen to you?"
She stared up at me, the look in her eyes nearly breaking my heart.
"You carried me away… and then you…"
I reached out for her and pulled her into my arms. She stood stiffly, not relaxing into me like she had every other time she’d been in my arms. My eyes narrowed in frustration.
This could not be happening. My sweet girl could not be afraid of me. I would never do something to spook her away.
Except… I couldn't exactly remember how I’d gotten there. Or what had happened the night before…
"No way. I didn't hurt you. I wouldn't."
"You didn't hurt me, but…"
"But what?"
I stroked her hair back from her face tenderly. I pulled a leaf out of her tangled waves and smiled. Her huge eyes were shining. She had a smudge of dirk on her cheek. But she still looked beautiful.
"You can tell me. It's alright."
"I just want to go home now, please."
"Krista, please tell me what happened. I can't… remember anything after the game."
She looked at me searchingly. She wanted to believe me, I could tell. So why didn’t she? I’d never lied to her before. I wouldn’t. I wasn’t sure I even could.
I could feel her wavering between fear and compassion.
"You really can't?"
I shook my head and tried to smile reassuringly. Some of the tension went out of her shoulders.
"Okay. I'll tell you. But later, okay?"
I nodded. I would give her time. On one condition.
"Alright Krista, you win. Just one last thing…"
I saw her startled eyes regi
ster that I was about to kiss her a split-second before I did. My lips found hers. She stiffened up, feeling like a board in my arms. She relaxed as I kissed her softly. There was no urgency or pressure, just… us.
It was a long time before I lifted my head again. Her eyes were trusting now. I followed her as she turned and walked out of the forest, all without saying a word.
What the hell had happened last night?
Second Sight
1800’s... Italy
He almost caught her. Almost. His hands nearly caught on the soft cotton of her white blouse. But she disappeared in the flutter of falling apple blossoms. Behind a tree. And then another. Twisting and turning through the orchard.
Gone.
"Lisetta!" He whispered her name harshly. He was growing nervous, afraid. He didn't want to miss a moment of this. Their long awaited secret meeting. It had been weeks since he last saw her face, held her, touched her.
Today he had something important to tell her.
Hands closed over his eyes suddenly, making him jump in fear. But the hands were delicate, soft. They followed him as he tried to spin around. A girlish giggle warmed his ear. A sweet, familiar scent washed over him.
"Pietro…" She caressed his neck teasingly before releasing him. He turned around, reaching for her. This time he caught her easily. She was ready to be caught.
He looked down at her. His beautiful girl. His forbidden girl. Her dark hair curling around her jaw, the gentle curve of her cheek. She stared at him with her large brown eyes. She reminded him of a doe, something wild, but temporarily tamed.
Pietro watched her carefully as he lowered himself onto his knee. He held her hand tightly, certain she would bolt.
The mischievous look in her eyes was replaced by astonishment as he pulled something out of his pocket. A ring. One his father had given to him when he became a man.
He looked up at her, his handsome face solemn. They were not supposed to be there in the orchard. They were not supposed to venture to this hill, overlooking his home and hers. They were supposed to be enemies, not lovers. But they had been drawn to each other from the start, from the first time he had seen her sweet little face in the square. Before his mother yanked him away. Before her father drew the hood of her cape down. He had seen her. She had seen him. And they had known.
Present Day
Professor Weilright sat behind his desk, looking over the folder. Not just any folder. This was her folder. It was overstuffed with papers and notes and God knows what. Lizzy could see red writing here and there, making corrections, comments, leaving a final unsatisfactory mark. God knows there had been enough of those this year.
She shifted in her chair impatiently. A slim girl with long golden brown hair, she was prettier than she thought she was. But even if she knew, she wouldn’t have cared.
She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. How long was this going to take? She knew what he was going to say to her anyway. She didn’t really need an encore of what she’d heard from three other teachers already.
Her fingers drummed the armrest of the stiff backed chair. The sound must have been kind of annoying because Professor Weilright stared at her pointedly. Lizzy stopped drumming.
The office was dim, a bit dusty, but comfortable. She wondered idly the last time Professor Weilright had straightened up. The leaded glass windows didn't let in much light, but maybe the was a good thing.
The Forsythe academy was ancient. The ultra exclusive prep school had been in existence for two hundred and thirty seven years, and the formerly private estate it resided in, at least one hundred more. Some of the girls complained about the drafts and creaky floorboards but secretly Lizzie liked it.
It reminded her of the Museums she had visited as a child with her mother. It was… substantial. There wasn't much she liked about being sent away to boarding school but there was that.
She liked old shit. It was a good thing too, all things considered.
Professor Weilright exhaled and leaned back in his chair. She looked up sharply, sensing that the moment was at hand. Here we go.
"Elizabeth-"
"Lizzy.”
"Lizzy. You are a smart girl."
"Thank you."
"You are a very smart girl who is either purposefully failing or is obviously suffering from…"
She looked at him expectantly. This ought to be good. Lizzy leaned forward in her seat as he peppered her with rapid fire questions.
"Drug addiction?"
"No."
"Eating disorder?"
"Um, no!"
"Teen pregnancy?"
"At an all girls school? That would be impressive, but no."
He held up his hands.
"Okay Lizzy, I tried. We are supposed to ask these questions. But with you I suspect it’s more complicated than that. Have you been keeping up your sessions with Dr. Allen?"
"It’s a waste of time. Dr. Allen doesn’t know his ass from his elbow."
It looked for a moment as if Professor Weilright agreed with her when he struggled to conceal his smirk. It was too bad she had decided not to try this year. Professor Weilright was smarter than most. His class was almost enjoyable.
Almost.
"Well, be that as it may part of your acceptance at this school was contingent on your... continued therapy sessions."
She looked out the window over his head, at the floor, anywhere but at him. Her mental health (or lack thereof) was by far her least favorite topic of conversation. Of course, adults always wanted to talk about it. They thought they could understand, make sense of it somehow. Solve the puzzle girl and win the prize.
But she knew they couldn’t.
"Not to mention you are failing my class. You won’t be allowed back for senior year if you can’t get a C minus at the very least. And continue with Dr. Allen."
Her fingers started tapping again as she studied the pattern in the faded afghan carpet. It really was a lovely shade of aubergine. Aubergine. That was whale puke, right? Yum.
"Lizzy. Lizzy!"
She took a deep breath and looked back up at him. It was time to face the music. Might as well do it with some dignity.
"You don’t want to fail do you?"
She shrugged. Lizzy had learned long ago not to fight city hall. Or her own lack of interest in pleasing the powers that be. Apathy was the safest course. Besides, she’d noticed that adults were more than happy to brush lost causes under the carpet. If she didn’t have wealthy parents, or an annoying ability to do well on standardized tests, she wouldn’t be at this school to begin with.
"Do you want to be sent home to repeat the eleventh grade in... dare I say... public school?"
"No. I mean, no I don’t want to go home." It was true. As much as she resented being shuffled off half way around the world, getting sent back in disgrace would be much worse. Much. Her stepmonster would never shut up about it.
Plus she couldn’t leave Al to face the wolves alone.
"But you don't really like it here, do you?"
"It's alright."
He stared at me over his folded hands. 'Alright' wasn't the response you expected when asking about one of the best schools in Europe. But she never lied. It wasn’t because she was on some moral high horse.
She was just too lazy.
"So, what are we going to do about this?"
"Pass me anyway?"
Lizzy looked up at him hopefully, doing her best puppy dog eyes. He frowned, not buying it. She sighed. She knew he wouldn’t. It was one of the things she liked about him.
She quickly lost respect for people who took things at face value. Especially when sarcasm pretty much leaked out of her bones in this sort of situation. She didn’t like confrontation. Lizzy went out of her way to make it as uncomfortable for everyone else around her as well.
"I wouldn’t be doing you any favors with a free ticket. No, you are going to do an extra credit make up essay. On which I will base…"
Professor Weilright riffl
ed through his desk for his grade book. He traced his finger down the column marked 'Elizabeth Cutler'. She leaned forward, curiosity getting the better of her. It's was a pathetic line of F's with one D and a B minus. He caught her looking and slammed the book shut.
"One hundred percent of your grade."
He was being overly generous. She knew it. He had been giving her sorrowful looks all semester. If he was trying to make her feel guilty, it had worked. Just not enough for her to start caring again.
The funny thing was, she used to care. Used to sit at her desk until she had completed all her assignments, most of which came almost too easily to her. Lizzy had a brain like a sponge, only having to read something once before knowing it by rote. A couple of years ago her marks were an unbroken line of straight A's. That's how she ended up in a school that catered to the wealthiest families in Europe. Lot of good it had done her.
One day she woke up and just didn't feel like trying anymore.
Lizzy sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. He was trying to help, she knew that much. Besides, what choice did she have?
"What kind of essay?"
"For you I think something juicy... something to get riled up about yes?"
That sounded as appealing as whale puke.
“Okay. What?"
"You said you were spending the summer in Italy with your family didn’t you?"
She nodded cautiously. He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. She could see a devilish twinkle in his eyes.
“That sounds relaxing. Laying by the pool, eating pasta… exploring the state of womens rights during the past few centuries.”
She groaned.
Students milled around the courtyard, revealing in the afternoon sun and the promise of summer. The school was perched high in the mountains which meant it never really got warm here. But the sun was shining and soon we would all be gong home.
Or wherever.
Lizzy walked around the periphery, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. It didn't work.
Original Witch (Dreamshifters Book 1) Page 11