A scream of protest rose in her throat as a terrible pain at the back of her head erupted like an explosion—like the worst migraine to ever occur. Without warning, she was pushed back into the dark recesses of her mind. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break free or move forward. She was trapped again like a floppy doll, her consciousness sagging in fatigue. She could see… kind of, but only as a bystander, watching as though she rode shotgun in her own body.
Claire wasn’t sure what was going on, but it was obvious she was going through some kind of alien abduction… or more likely, she was possessed! She had read about things like this happening and she knew it was imperative that she get the intruder out of her body. Not knowing where this evil being was taking her, she hesitated, afraid, but Claire wasn’t about to let this possession happen without a fight.
Like a raging lion, she clawed her way into the driver’s seat of her mind, hearing a cry of frustration from her unwanted guest. Her corporeal arms flailed, and the keys fell from her hand as she fought for control. Like some sort of Frankenstein marionette, she barely managed to propel herself into the school’s parking lot.
“Hey, are you okay?” a boy called out. He ran up beside her and placed a hand on her arm, his face filled with concern.
Claire stared into his eyes, not sure how to answer. Yeah, something was wrong—really wrong—but she had no idea how to fix it. She wasn’t sure she could.
“What school is this?” she asked, hysterical, her eyes darting around. She was barely able to hold the demon back, and she could feel it thrashing its way forward.
“Huh?” he answered.
“This school,” she demanded. “What’s it called?”
“Ocean Side?”
He gazed at her like she was nuts, and maybe she was. “You’re at Ocean Side High. By the ocean.” He pointed to his right, and Claire lifted her to gaze to follow his fingers toward the soft roar of the surf just over the rise. Now that he mentioned it, she could feel the salty tang of seawater on her tongue. An unpleasant whiff of dead fish floated on the breeze also. That was not as enjoyable.
“Oh my gosh,” she whispered breathlessly. “I’m at Ocean Side.”
He nodded slowly. “Ye—ah. Do you need some help? Is there anyone I can call for you?”
Her gaze flitted back to him. He was about her height, blond, average looking, with a cheap backpack slung over his shoulders. His jeans weren’t expensive, and neither were his knock-off Vans.
“Um, no. I can drive myself home.” She gave him a strained smile, and then managed to get in her car without falling over.
The boy’s eyebrows pulled down into a frown as he watched her, but Claire didn’t care. She didn’t have time for this. The last thing she remembered was… she couldn’t even recall the last thing she remembered.
She hurried across town, trying not to speed even though her heart raced and her pulse pounded in her head. Her hands held the steering wheel tight, her knuckles white, as she tried to keep the demon at bay. A migraine threatened to overpower her, and it took all of her energy to focus on the road, on the speedometer, and on her feet using the gas and clutch.
Miraculously, she made it into her driveway. The drive home took twenty-five minutes when it should have only taken fifteen, and she felt like she’d sped the whole way. Stumbling from the car, she forced herself up the porch and into her house before she collapsed on her hands and knees in the foyer.
Her mom rushed to her side. “Claire? Oh, Claire! What’s wrong? What happened?” She helped her up the stairs, helped her undress, and tucked her into bed. Never had anything felt so wonderful. The cool sheets hugged her legs and the smooth silk of her pillowcase cradled her face. She rolled to her side and mumbled that she needed rest.
Her mother smoothed back her hair. “Yes, Claire. You rest. I’ll bring some dinner up later.”
Exhaustion overcame her, and she couldn’t stop her eyelids from drooping closed.
18
~Mounting Frustrations~
Alisa
I couldn’t explain what happened, but Claire had taken control away from me. It was a shock, and I was stunned, but I’d stood back—so to speak—and watched quietly, observing her reaction.
She’d raced home, terrified, and gone straight to bed.
At that point, I easily took over again. I didn’t want to fight her, and even though it was cool to have a body, I knew I couldn’t stay here like this. As fun as it had been, guardians didn’t possess. That was what a demon would do, preferably without the charge knowing… but for once, this wasn’t my fault, and I was willing to do whatever it took to get out… maybe.
I sat up in the dark of Claire’s bedroom, my head pounding and my belly roiling with nausea. Weakness left my arms and legs hanging, fatigued, and I thought I might throw up. I lay back down, hoping to keep the contents of my stomach right where they were.
Then the memories came rushing back.
All thoughts were washed away by what mattered most.
Brecken
He didn’t remember me. I pressed my fist to my chest in an effort to ease the ache, but it didn’t help. Nothing could. After all we’d been through… the hopes I’d had… I couldn’t let it end like this.
Rolling over, I closed my eyes, willing myself to forget.
The clock on Claire’s nightstand read 2:03 AM. I was wide awake but exhausted. If I lay here for another four or five hours, I’d go nuts. It was enough to drive me to my feet. Tiptoeing down the stairs, I headed to the kitchen. The streetlights in front of the house shined brightly through the windows, lighting my way. In the kitchen, I got a drink of water and looked around. I wasn’t afraid, even though this wasn’t my house. The shadows were unfamiliar, and the creaks and groans were different from my old house, but the feeling was kind of the same.
I was safe here.
As I leaned against the counter drinking my water, I noticed a light glowing under the door to the basement. I had a firm belief about basements—that all things evil or haunted happened there. Nothing good ever came out of a basement except canned fruit, but I was curious, so I ventured forth anyway, tempted to see why the light was on. Sometimes, I liked the thrill of fright. It was a rush, and maybe it would make me tired enough to go back to sleep.
The door squeaked as I pulled it open. I stopped, listening for any sounds from upstairs. After a few seconds of silence, I deemed it safe to proceed. One foot after the other led me down into the deep, dark basement. I left the door open at the top of the stairs just in case I had to turn around and run for my life. A lone light bulb hung in the center of the open room. It glowed softly, but cast dark shadows past the shelves of stored food and into the deep corners where anything could hide.
I shivered instinctively and then noticed a low table, or more accurately, a bench, that stood against the far wall. It held candles with cold, melted wax at their base. It wasn’t until I moved closer that I remembered this room. I’d been down here watching Claire when she’d done her ceremony. That was when I’d been forced into her body. This was her fault! It was all coming back with stark clarity.
A dish sat in the center of the bench, along with a hairbrush and my two silver, double-eternity earrings. Reaching out, I lifted my familiar brush and turned it back and forth. A frown grew on my face, and then I picked up the earrings. With them tight in my fist and my brush brandished like a weapon, I stomped up the stairs, only to remember it was the middle of the night and there was nobody to rant and rave to. There was no one here who cared, or would even understand.
No one. Not even Brecken.
I was completely alone.
Plopping down on the living room couch, I sighed in defeat. Who could I turn to? Pouring my heart out to anyone who could hear me, I let my tears fall, but my prayer seemed to bounce off the ceiling. Then I remembered Adam. Maybe he’d hear me. I pictured his understanding face and his kind eyes as I concentrated. A few moments passed, and I was sure I was being ign
ored as far as divine help was concerned, but then I felt someone sitting next to me on the couch. I glanced over, knowing who was there.
“Adam!”
“Shhh,” he whispered, holding a finger to his lips. “You don’t want to wake the family.” With a tired smile, he squeezed my hand. “How are you holding up, my dear?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. Nothing feels right. It’s never been like this before.” I gazed steadily into his eyes, certain he’d understand.
He nodded, and I wanted to throw my arms around him to thank him for being so kind and patient with me. I was high maintenance. I always had been, so I hesitated, holding back, not daring to be rejected. I’d had enough of that lately.
“I know it’s hard, Alisa, and we’re under transition right now in Idir Shaol. Communication is ridiculous.” He laughed and shook his head. “Even those higher up are frustrated, but the channels will be repaired soon.”
“Repaired? Are they broken?” I couldn’t even comprehend such a thing. Never before had I felt unheard. Maybe ignored, yeah, but not abandoned
“Oh… no,” he said. “But you know how it is. Everyone is busy working. Ancestors do the brunt of the guardian work, but sometimes, petitions and prayers get lost in the shuffle.” He gave a nervous chuckle, and I studied him closer. Lines of worry creased his eyes, and his lips seemed tighter than before. He was worried about something. Something he wouldn’t tell me. It made me worry too.
Like a light switch being flipped on, his expression altered from concern to serenity. “Tell me, how are you doing? You did call. Is there a problem of a more personal nature?”
With a sigh, I tried to figure out where to begin. “Something just doesn’t feel right. I’m not sure what it is, but it seems like… well, like I shouldn’t be in someone else’s body. First of all, I don’t like it. And second, it’s wrong to take over someone else’s life. Also, I went to see Brecken, and he doesn’t remember who I am anymore!” I grasped Adam’s hand, hoping to convey my frustration. I thought he got it, considering how tight I was squeezing.
“I know. I’m really sorry about that. The higher-ups did not think it was wise for you to continue in that relationship after all.” He smiled sweetly and shook his head in apology. “You have important work to do, Alisa, and you need to focus. It’s all going to be fine. You are doing everything you’re supposed to. When we’re done with the trial run of our new program, I’m sure Bretariel will have his memories given back.”
I was devastated by this news. I couldn’t believe they would take him away from me. Especially since this might be my only chance to be with him for a while. I felt stabbed through the heart and betrayed. How could they do this? “But, who…?”
“Shh.” He tried to silence me with a pat on the shoulder.
“But why?”
With a nervous chuckle, he stood, outwardly uncomfortable with my heightened emotional state. “Can you be patient… just for a while longer?”
Patient? Was he serious? I shook my head as I sat there, frozen in disbelief. How could they give me the man that I loved and then take him away? Why would they do this? Why? Tears formed in my eyes as Adam backed away. I reached for him, but he disappeared from sight without a word.
19
~Dance Class~
Alisa
The next morning, with a broken heart and swollen eyes, I drove to Ocean Side High. I’d cried all night. Claire’s mom had been beside herself with worry when she saw my face at breakfast, but with a new day came a new resolve. I decided to square my shoulders and press on, even though Brecken didn’t remember me.
Claire’s mother was still in the dark about my switching schools, and there was going to be fireworks when she found out, but I couldn’t let the opportunity to be with Brecken pass me by. I needed to make him remember, one way or another. If heaven wouldn’t help me, I’d help myself.
Brecken’s first period was—if you could believe it—Intermediate Ballroom Dance. A grant had been given to the school by some famous dancer to boost the arts a few years back, and I learned that this class was one of the perks. Yeah, I was pretty surprised that Brecken could dance, but it did sound fun, and how hard could it be? I’d never taken a ballroom dance class before, but I wasn’t a complete idiot.
There were about twenty girls to maybe eight guys, so this was going to be interesting. Risers lined the back wall of the classroom where we sat, waiting for the instructor to begin. She strutted to the front, wearing sexy, spiky heels and a sleek black leotard with a flowy dance skirt that swirled around her thighs. I had to admit, she looked great for someone so old. She had to be at least forty.
“Class. Welcome to Intermediate ballroom dance. This is my favorite level because we really get into the good stuff and you already know the basics. You’ll learn quickly, which will make it more fun. Ballroom dance is the most beautiful and most sensual form of dance you will ever learn. Some of you are experienced enough to know that already.” She smiled and glanced at a few of her students.
The teacher, Mrs. Blackthorn, had curves in all the right places and as she made her way to the center of the room, smiling and pointing to someone too far back to see, my heart skipped a beat. He stood up and met her in the center of the room.
Brecken.
I hadn’t seen him come in, and I’d assumed he was late.
He wasn’t wearing his combat boots either, which surprised me. In fact, he was wearing dress shoes with jeans and a T-shirt. Upon closer inspection, I noticed they weren’t dress shoes at all, but dance shoes. Real dance shoes.
My mouth dropped as I stared, watching him take Mrs. Blackthorn’s hand. He put his arms around her, holding his elbows squared, like a professional. I couldn’t stop gaping. This was a side of Brecken I’d never known and he’d never shown me, except when he’d exited my car. He could dance?
Before they started, Mrs. Blackthorn addressed the class. “This is Brecken Shaefer, my assistant for this term. He has taken all the ballroom classes I offer, and will instruct as well as partner, so everyone will have a turn to practice.”
The music started, and they moved in the most beautiful tango I’d ever seen. Brecken didn’t smile or look directly at any of us as we watched from the risers. If I would have known he could dance like this… Dang!
During their short, two-minute demonstration, I glanced around and noticed all the girls staring at Brecken. They drooled and so did I. We all watched him with rapt fascination. He was older than most and seemed more mature. Suddenly, I realized I might have to deal with competition since he couldn’t remember me. Could I deal with that along with everything else I was going through? Could I handle seeing him with other girls, gazing at them like he used to gaze at me? I wasn’t sure, and it gave me a stomachache to even imagine it.
“We will begin with something easy. The waltz.” Mrs. Blackthorn refreshed everyone’s memory as she explained how it was done, and then the boys lined up in the center of the room. The girls got in line behind them, so we could take our turn with one of them. Of course, Brecken’s line filled before I could even get my butt off the bench. And because I didn’t want to seem desperate, I waited, wondering if he’d recognize the crazy, redheaded girl who’d assaulted him in the hall yesterday.
As time went by, I realized I’d never get to dance with him. His line was too long, and class was almost over. I tried not to let it bother me, but the truth was that it did. I yearned to be close to him, and roots of jealousy sprouted with every girl who took his arm. He didn’t even glance my way. He couldn’t care less who he danced with. It was all work to him. A job. A grade.
I watched him from the corner of my eye, memorizing every move he made, every expression, and who he laughed with. Because I was the new girl, I did get attention. Plenty of it. Claire was hot, after all. But I wasn’t interested in any of those boys, no matter how cute or talented they were. I had eyes for only one guy.
The bell rang. Brecken didn’t stick around to visit w
ith anyone, just grabbed his backpack and hurried to his next class. Our next class. Math. A class I was sure to fail.
20
~Changing Relationships~
Claire
Through a blanket of heavy blackness, Claire pushed her way to the surface of awareness, bullying her way past a barrier so strong she almost gave up. She awoke from a deep sleep, the heavy dust of dreams clogging her mind. It was almost too difficult, and it took a monumental amount of energy, but when she opened her eyes, it was to a very unfamiliar scene…
She was in a classroom. The musty scent of old paint, old carpet, and overused desks assaulted her senses. The demon had brought her to Ocean Side High again! Where was it now? Asleep? Was that why she’d been able to take control?
Bright sunlight shined through the tall windows, and the classroom felt uncomfortably warm. Rubbing her eyes, she turned slowly in her seat to study the students behind her, to see if any were recognizable. None were.
With a racing heart, she turned back to the front, her eyes wide with alarm. Slumping down in her seat, she hoped to appear invisible so the teacher wouldn’t call on her. She analyzed her situation and lamented having done this to herself. She had called an evil soul to her, and it had overtaken her body!
Wracking her brain, she tried to remember exactly what had happened. Something must have shifted on the elemental plane or she’d made a mistake in her chant. She studied it out in her mind, organizing, chronicling, and cataloging the events as they occurred.
Then someone called her name.
“Claire?” the teacher said again. “Did you hear me? Can you tell us the difference between the classical period and the romantic period as pertaining to literature?”
“Huh? Oh. Um… Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” she answered, feeling astronomically stupid. What class was this? English Lit? The kind she didn’t excel at.
The Elementalist Page 5