The Airel Saga Box Set: Young Adult Paranormal Romance

by Aaron Patterson

  “I will go with you as far as the head of the Two Rivers,” Kreios said. “Then I shall take to the air in a new direction to try to find an old friend who should be able to help us.” Kreios smiled slightly at the memory of his old friend Yamanu. He adjusted the sling that held his baby girl over his chest.

  Gathering clouds filled the sky to the west as the sun began to rise. They were dark and thick, their payload snow and frigid air and darkness of the worst kind.

  Kreios would need to find his old friend. The pendulum would swing. This is a matter of the survival of our kind now, Yamanu. I pray you can live up to your legacy.

  CHAPTER XX

  Boise, Idaho—Present Day

  I WAS SITTING IN my car in the school parking lot, eyes closed, hoping I wouldn’t suddenly retch, hoping I wouldn’t get a splitting migraine at any second or contract some other horrible heretofore unmanifested disease in my as yet (mostly) unmanifested life, which was, oddly, manifestly weird lately. I was just sitting.

  Thinking.

  But I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to feel … feel.

  The word rolled through my mind like a summer thunderstorm. Feel … I heard the flutter of wings, the rustling of feathers, old pages turning in the back of my mind.

  This morning had proven to be better than anticipated. I was wearing pink, my feel-good color, and there were cartoonish clouds filling the young blue sky like daisies, a yellow sun blazing through them from just over the mountains. I’d made it out of the house in time to retrieve my coconut latte on the way, this time without incident. I was up early today. No reason.

  Now I was sitting in my car at school half an hour before it started.

  School.

  I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to feel.

  School didn’t require a large part of my brain anyway. Seriously. If a student learned anything here, it was simply to nod and grunt in the right places. I skated by without breaking a sweat, nodding, grunting, Googling what I needed to survive. I didn’t want to excel at this game; it was empty and I knew it.

  There was more out there. Somewhere. I couldn’t put a name on it, but I knew it. I knew that most of what was advertised as normal life was an illusion. I didn’t want a career and a husband and kids and a cute little house and a stupid dog that licked my face when I came home—at least, not on Their terms, whoever They were. I wanted to live my life my way. If I ended up with the same results as everybody else, I would still retain my precious difference because of how I achieved them. Just because I looked like the average girl didn’t mean I was the average girl.

  I emptied my mind of every thought about my weird life. Feel.

  Fluttering.

  My eyes opened. Michael Alexander was pulling in next to my trusty little Honda in his big white truck. It wasn’t like it was the only available parking space at this hour, either. My heart jumped into my throat. Needing something to do, I sipped my coffee.

  Michael closed his door and leaned down, looking through the passenger window and waving at me. I smiled at him as he opened my door. “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” I said, wondering at his boldness to assume he could invade my little world unbidden. “What brings you here so early?” Huh. I sound normal, even happy. I guess that’s good. But what I felt inside were wind, waves, butterflies.

  Michael’s eyes lit up and he shot me his smile. “I just had a feeling you would be here before everyone else.” He chuckled. “Here you are.”

  My heart did somersaults in my chest as Michael slid into the passenger seat. I could smell his shampoo. There was also the faint odor of bacon and eggs lingering on him, which—on him alone—was magical.

  I looked at him without looking at him, and he smiled and stared openly at me. It was as if he didn’t mind me knowing he was interested. Maybe I was just imagining it and he was being friendly. I was running low on the kind of excuses that fueled that fantasy, though.

  “So, you hear anything from the police about that murderer?” Michael asked.

  The words “I know what you are” resounded in my head like the toll of medieval church bells. I felt shocked. “Uh, no,” I managed. “I think they’re still looking for the guy. Kinda weird being there in the theater when it happened.” I sipped my coffee and hid behind my hair, which I wore down today, thank God.

  “Yeah. Not every day you get to be in the middle of something real like that.” He sounded like he had enjoyed it. “It was just like the movies. All the police cars, everyone screaming and running around.”

  “You make it sound like it was fun.” I looked right at him. “Personally, I didn’t think so. It wasn’t entertainment for me. It wasn’t a trip to Disneyland. I could have been killed.” I felt angry because of his flippant attitude, because of his lack of fear. “Tell me,” I said, “would you still have been excited then? Would you have been all stoked that you knew the girl who was murdered?”

  “No, no. I’m not happy. I uh—jeez, Airel. It’s just that it was crazy, okay? And thank God you’re alive. I’m just saying, it was one of those things not everybody gets to experience. This was not some random murder. That’s what they’re saying. They even say that the victim was a serial killer.” His eyes were on fire.

  “What? Where did you hear that?”

  “What do you mean, ‘Where did I hear that?’ It’s been all over the news. They’ve identified the body. It was a serial child killer. His last victim was in Vegas. He’s killed like, ten kids or something. He was on the Most Wanted list. I mean, isn’t that crazy? That they’re hunting their own kind now? It’s killer killing killer.”

  I couldn’t say anything. I was trying to process all this new information and make it fit somewhere within the framework of my existing understanding. It wouldn’t fit.

  “Anyway, the whole school is talking about it. You’re a celebrity: the girl who got away.”

  I was horrified. I hated the idea of being the center of anyone’s attention unless it was on my own terms. “Great,” I muttered under my breath, “so much for flying under the radar.” I didn’t want to be famous for anything. I just wanted to survive high school.

  I looked past Michael to his truck, where I noticed movement. James was sitting on the passenger seat drinking a Red Bull and staring out the windshield. Michael followed my gaze. “Oh.” He laughed. “James needed a ride this morning, so I picked him up. When we saw your car, he didn’t want to be a third wheel, so he stayed in the truck.”

  “Oh,” I said. “You two are becoming fast friends, I see. Is he gonna convince you to try out for football?” For some reason, the James thing made something in the back of my mind twitch. I wondered what it was. Maybe it was just my conscience being over-sensitive, or maybe a sixth sense, like in the theater.

  “It might be a little too late for that. But James is a cool guy. He said he’s going to talk to the coach for me, since the season has already started, and try to get me in. I’m not that crazy about playing football, but it could be fun.” He looked at me, seeing me again.

  I turned away, not knowing what to do, or even what might happen next. I thought if he tried to kiss me or something, I was going to give him a bloody nose. Maybe. His eyes were so crazy crystal-clear blue that when he turned them on me in earnest, I felt how strong he was. And though those eyes were magnetic to every part of me, under it all there was something dark and potentially dangerous. I thought of those underground rivers that go for miles sequestered from the sun, their water cold and black. That feeling came and went, a fleeting glimpse, hard to put my finger on.

  He was dangerous. That was it. Different. Different from anyone else on the planet. And he was unexpected. He was a pleasant surprise, an enigmatic shock, a lightning strike in broad daylight at the center of a high alpine meadow. If I had any conscious requirements, any ideas about what kind of guy I could possibly love, he fulfilled them. If I had any expectations in my wildest dreams of what love might be, he exceeded them. There was little rat
ional evidence for it, but then, that’s love. Michael Alexander was irresistible, and I knew right then I was falling for him.

  He met my gaze without a smile. My little car started to feel hot inside. I wanted to roll down my window. There wasn’t the usual trademark hint of humor in his eyes. He usually made some joke or popped off a funny comment to make people laugh, but that was absent now. His face, his eyes, his expression was pure, and as he looked deep into my eyes, I saw a profound and enfolding desire there within him. Seeing it focused on me frightened and thrilled me more than I could have imagined.

  So… this is what it’s like.

  I felt as if I was an ocean—unpredictable, wild, stormy—and I could feel, intensely, that his single wish in life was to be given the privilege of drowning in all that I was. But it was more than simple desire, I could tell. He loved me. In that revelation was something more powerful than all the stars crashing to earth.

  I tried to look away, but couldn’t. He held me captive and I could not—knew I would never—resist. Just as fast as it had emerged, the burst of passion in his eyes passed, sinking under lapping waves of self-defense. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth and the mask—the one we all wear—was back in place.

  “I wanted to ask you something.” He grinned and looked down at his hands, abruptly shy. “I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner with me sometime. You know, not anything fancy. Just hang out, get to know each other. I think you’re … kind of amazing.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. He was asking me out and playing shy. I was the last person a guy like Michael Alexander should be shy around. But I caught myself saying these words: “I would love to.” My heart pounded, and my entire body buzzed.

  “Great. Great.” He smiled awkwardly, opened the car door, and was gone. The shockwave of the moment radiated away from me as I watched him and James head into school.

  I sank back into my seat and tried to breathe. I was that girl. The one everyone wished they could be. I didn’t know why, and I was afraid to ask. I couldn’t help it. I balled up my fist, curled my arm, and gloated. “Yes.”

  CHAPTER XXI

  AFTER SCHOOL, WE DIDN’T have much homework, so Kim and I decided to catch a few rays in the bleachers at the practice field. We were laid out on our backs, side by side on aluminum planks, third and fourth row up. We soaked warmth from a mild late-September sun, eyes closed, the soundtrack of the football team running drills our only accompaniment.

  Borah wanted to win more than anything and anybody else, and Coach Dennis was a machine. If he had his way, the football team would practice year round. Football was that man’s life. He was short and pretty fit for an old dude, but the man had arms the size of most men’s legs. It was gross. Every once in a while he blew a whistle, commanding the attention of everyone within a half mile. He barked out a few orders and the guys began running some different plays or drills or whatever it was they did.

  I peeked out from heavy lids, watching the bigger, slower players lag behind the others, like James and Michael, who seemed like they were born for it. As the team killed themselves for their conditioning, I said, “Why do guys push themselves so hard for a game? It’s just a stupid pigskin or whatever; why does it matter?”

  Kim didn’t look at me. She said, “Hush, Airel. It’s important to them, so it’s important to us. Just imagine what the world would be like if guys didn’t have something to make them feel manly.”

  “Puh,” I said.

  “Besides,” she said, “if they didn’t have stuff like that to distract them, they’d eventually figure out it’s the ladies who are running the show.”

  “Oh, Kim,” I said, sitting up, “there’s no doubt about who’s running the show when you’re around, honey.”

  “Mm-hm. I would throw my shoe at you if I cared enough about your lies.”

  “Lies, vicious lies,” I said. “I’ve gotta admit, though, even if I don’t get it, it’s kind of fun to watch all the same.”

  “I know, right? Especially Michael.”

  I looked at her. “You know what, I don’t appreciate your tone, missy.”

  “Stuff it,” she said, her eyes still closed, and I dropped it because friends are comfortable with that whole give-and-take thing.

  I watched Michael run the field back and forth in perfect rhythm to some hidden clock, the rhythms of which he alone could feel. He moved like a cat, light on his feet; and quick—quicker than the rest of the team. He was an athlete for sure.

  “Did I tell you,” Kim said, sitting up, “that James asked me out the other day? We’re going to see a movie. Oh, no, wait. Maybe that’s not such a good idea.” She looked at me as if I were made of glass.

  “Shut up, Kim. It’s fine.”

  “Well, he did say he had the perfect place in mind. He wants to take me to dinner.”

  “Where do you think you’ll go?”

  “I dunno—I hope someplace nice. Someplace you need a reservation just to get in.” She turned toward the practice field. “Dude, he’s so strong. Just look at him run.” She sighed like she was lovesick.

  “If you keep this up, I’m gonna barf on your shoes. Quit it.”

  “You quit it. Here comes your lover boy right now.”

  Michael ran by, glancing up at me and flashing the smile that gave me shivers. How was it possible to know someone for such a short time and feel like this? If Dad—or even if Mom—knew how I felt … Wow. Danger.

  I looked at Kim. I guess I have to take the plunge. “I have something to tell you, Kimmie.”

  She turned toward me, her eyes big, inhaling all the air in the world and her bottom lip.

  “But,” I said, “you have to promise not to make a big deal out of it. I mean it.” I might as well have asked her to never shop again.

  “Ohmygosh, Michael asked you out, didn’t he?” Glee was positively stamped on her face, and the look on mine must have been all the confirmation she needed. “I knew it. He asked you out. Yesss.” She made the same gesture I had made in my car, like she had just scored the BOGO buy of the year. “I was hoping he would. And he is sooo hot. Oh, my gosh.” Then she looked alarmed. “You said yes, didn’t you? You’d better have said yes or I’ll kill you.”

  I smiled. “Death by Kim.” Chalk up another murderous stalker. How many does that make now? I shook my head, grinning helplessly. “Kim, it’s not like I could have even tried to say no—”

  “Oh, Airel. I’m so excited. You and Michael and me and James—we can go on double dates. And hang out and talk about stuff. Oh, my gosh.” Then she gasped. “We should go shopping. We need new dresses for our first official dates of the school year.”

  What did I do to deserve this? My best friend was going to drive me insane. I looked away from her, looking for a way out of this one-sided conversation. And then I saw the last thing I wanted to see. My mouth went dry and my lips felt thick, swollen shut from lack of water. I sat straight up, my back stiff, and all the tiny hairs on my neck and arms sounded the alarm. Across the field on the visiting team’s bleachers sat a blond-haired man, black sunglasses hiding black eyes.

  Kim felt me seize and stopped talking long enough to say, “Uh-oh. Do you need a barf bag?” But then she looked across the yellowed grass of the field to where my eyes were welded: the man in the far bleachers. “Who is that?” Kim asked in a whisper. She pushed her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose and peered out.

  I tried to respond. My mouth was too dry. Heart-stopping fear rushed over me. And Kim was ditzy, but she wasn’t dumb. She touched my arm, leaned over close to me, and whispered in my ear, “It’s him.”

  It was my murderous stalker. He was right there. He was watching me, watching with careful consideration and … something else. He knew. He knew something was wrong with me. He wanted to see what it was. Or maybe he wanted to see what I could do, what I would do.

  Maybe he wanted to scare me into silence. If that were the case, it was working. I was so scared that my hand
s were shaking.

  I felt weak. Oh, neat. Here’s something new and impossible. I need more of that.

  I saw it happening. This was real. I was passing out. The seat of the bleacher came rushing up at my face quickly, and I knew it was going to hurt.

  CHAPTER XXII

  I OPENED MY EYES to behold a black sky. The sun above was enclosed in a womb of smoke and smog, looking red-orange, like light seen through flesh. The horizon was jagged rock shining oily coal black, its ridges cantilevered out of the ground at discordant, unharmonious angles, on purpose.

  I was inside a cage.

  It was like a bird cage, but completely inelegant. It was a utilitarian cube, made from iron bars. The floor was of rough wooden plank. I could see as I looked out that I was high above the ground. My cage was hanging from a single limb in a tall and ancient tree.

  I surveyed the expanse of the valley within the bowl of the black rocks below. Row upon row, mountain range stacked against mountain range like teeth, like an upside-down jellyfish, rising and falling. It was impassable even if I could get out of my cage. Nothing grew, nothing lived. This ground was cursed.

  I thought I must have been dreaming, but the bump on my head argued against this conclusion. I did indeed pass out and eat the bleachers. I couldn’t explain it to myself.

  I stood.

  My cage swayed with the movement, back and forth, bobbing up and down as I shifted my weight to walk around. The limb above was a wisp; a gossamer confection. I hung from this thread.

  I wondered: if I were to die here, would I be dead in the real world? Maybe my body was in a hospital right now with a nasty cut on my head and the doctors were trying to revive me as my mind cavorted here in this macabre rink.

  I made my way slowly to the center of the cage and it groaned with each step. Long, fat floor boards spanned from one end of the cage to the other, twelve across, each held in place by rusty iron nails.