by Krystal Wade
“I’m sure the book has a two-year course on Elementals, but, thankfully, my mom told me about them. Elementals rarely involve themselves in politics. They’d do their jobs, then immediately return home.”
“Their jobs?”
“Elementals have an ability to command air, fire, earth or water. After natural disasters, wars—or whatever—Guardians would call in Elementals to enter the human plane and use their powers to heal the land.”
“Like environmentalists or something?”
“Exactly.” He ran his finger across the page. “Look. Aedan sought assistance from the Guardians so he could travel into the human plane to seek revenge, but his request was denied.”
“I guess we know why he wants the Guardians dead, but if he’s in charge, why didn’t the Guardians just open the planes for him?”
Derick sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe they knew it was wrong.”
“Or maybe he wasn’t in charge at the time?”
“Could be.” He shrugged. “Like I said, the first chapter goes on about how we’re supposed to protect mankind—”
“It also said we’re supposed to pass through the planes.”
I went to the next page, skimming through the words. The amount of detail astounded me. Aedan’s plans—all of them—were written as though he created this book. Murder, war, weapons, the game—all of these things were in here, but no mention of me. Not that I’d seen anyway. We’d read to page forty of Aedan’s section, or 1999 if we went by years, and still couldn’t figure out what he intended to do with me. But given his massive slaughter of anyone who denied his mission, we assumed he had my blood in his sight.
“Abby, look at this.” Derick held one-half of the giant book in his lap while I held the other. “In 2007, Aedan learned of an Elder’s heir living in the human world. A Guardian. The heir is female and protected by a group of the deceased Elder’s most trusted servants… You want to finish this tomorrow?”
What? “Why the sudden switch off?”
He shook his head. “It’s 10:00 p.m. We haven’t had good sleep, and I promised to make up for some things.”
“No way, Derick. You tell me what’s wrong or me and the book are going to bed. Alone.”
“Servants, Abigail. I’m going to guess you’re the Elder’s heir and I’m the son of a servant. Which would explain Mr. Snellings’ comment about Mark being my greatest competition, I think, because we’re all just your servants.”
The only person I cared about being with at the end of whatever horrors our future held worried he wasn’t good enough for me? “Should I hit you now or later?”
I tossed the book to the floor—to hell with the thing for now—then turned to the side and draped my legs over his. “You told me what you want. Me. How we are. How we were. Well, that’s what I want, too. Not just now. Forever. I don’t care if someone thinks we’re young and stupid and making decisions we’re not old enough to make. If what we have isn’t true—and if we’re really magical, then I think there’s no denying what we have—I can’t imagine what a deeper love feels like.”
Smiling, Derick shifted so he was on top of me, hand sliding up and down my bare leg. “You don’t care if I’m supposed to be a servant?”
He teased me with a soft kiss, brushing his lips across mine.
“You will make an excellent servant. I have needs.” My breath evaporated from my chest the closer his fingertips traveled to my stomach.
Derick lifted the end of my tank top, snuck his hand under and gripped my skin, pulling me closer. I arched my back, pressing against him, and our mouths met. I loved the tenderness in his touch, filled with longing and desire yet still feather-light and gentle, roaming over my belly as our bodies moved together.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He jumped up and spun around, as though he didn’t know where to find the door, his hair disheveled and poofing out every which direction.
I giggled and pointed to the left. “That way.”
Glaring at me, he said, “I know my way around. I was looking for a weapon.”
“I’m sure it’s f-fine.” I grabbed the remote and held it out for Derick—like this thing would help—and he laughed. “Better than nothing?”
“You sure about that?” He peeked through the peephole, fingertips pressed against the door. “Who is it?”
“Molly Anderson, sir. From the sales office. You forgot to come by and sign the paperwork today.”
Our sighs echoed throughout the cold room.
Suddenly feeling underdressed in my pajamas, I spread the red throw blanket from the back of the couch over myself.
Derick opened the door, then stepped aside. “Hello, Ms. Anderson. Please, come in. We lost track of time today and forgot to come by the office. Accept my apologies?”
The petite woman in her white gaucho pants and strappy red sandals smiled at Derick as though she’d never heard someone speak so politely. Personally, I wanted to gag. Manners or not, he went overboard.
“No problem. You had a long drive.” Ms. Anderson pulled a manila folder from her black briefcase. “Now, if we can just spread these papers out somewhere… the coffee table should do.”
I reached down to grab the book and had to stifle a scream. History of Kalós lay open, and words filled the page before my eyes, as though someone held a pen to the paper and scrawled in a slight cursive handwriting right here and now.
‘Aedan Mordha knows the heir is in a Safe Zone. Aedan has only two servants inside the human plane. They are not human or Kalóan—he works with the enemy—and their powers are dwindling.’
Then, as though the world paused, so did the writing. I closed the book, hid it behind a throw pillow, then glanced at Derick while biting my lip.
He tilted his head to the side as I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, bouncing my legs. Concern must have been all over my face. I felt the worry. Everywhere. Pins and needles pricked at my hands and feet. A brown paper bag would have helped. Maybe.
“Oh, Mrs. Crawford, don’t worry. Buying real estate is scary, but you two are already ahead of the game. Paying in cash will save you so many headaches, and you’re buying at the right time.” She prattled on about the economy being bad and that being a good thing for young married couples like us.
Married. Mrs. Crawford.
“May I see?”
I shook my head, wondering if I’d just stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone. “Sorry?”
“Don’t be shy, Abby. Show her the ring,” Derick said.
“The ring?” What ring? Stupid imagination. Just when PTSD seemed like a thing of the past.
He rushed over and took my left hand. “She’s a bit modest. If the ring wasn’t an heirloom, I doubt she would ever have agreed to wear it.” A warm smile lit his blue eyes, a genuine thing, one that made me want to point at him and call him a liar and a freak, but somehow I knew I shouldn’t, especially once I looked down at my finger. “But I’m so glad she did.”
I wore a diamond—at least a carat—set inside a white gold band lined with knots. Where did this to-die-for jewelry that would have Megan—still need to text her—squeeing to the world come from?
My head ached. Something weird was happening. I didn’t know what. Or why.
“Oh my!” Ms. Anderson pressed her palm to her tan chest, jostling her shiny black and white beaded necklace that matched her outfit perfectly. “Stunning. What did you say your family does again?”
“Investment banking. If we’re lucky, Abby and I won’t have to work a day in our lives. Neither will our children.”
She giggled like a schoolgirl. “Children? Do you plan to have any soon?”
“No. No,” he said. “We need to finish college first. Just because we don’t need to work doesn’t mean we don’t need an education.”
“I like you, Mr. Crawford.” Molly Anderson turned to me and smiled. “You’re a lucky girl.”
“Thank you.” I stared at the TV, trying to get my attention on somethi
ng else. Maybe this was all part of being a Romancer. I certainly did not control the illusion of a ring on my finger.
Derick and Ms. Anderson sorted the papers on the wicker coffee table. They signed form after form, laughing and joking with each other. Part of me wondered if he knew what he did to her. Derick had done something similar to Trooper Samson in Virginia, and I don’t think he realized it then.
I couldn’t watch. Clicking the volume on the remote, I wished I hadn’t.
“Next up on ABC 7 News at 10: Two Missing Virginia Teens. Have you seen them?” Our faces flashed across the screen. I hit the mute button.
“Such sad news, isn’t it?” Ms. Anderson asked before I had a chance to covertly change the channel. “Apparently the girl had been kidnapped, and rescued, a few days before she and her boyfriend disappeared. I pray they ran away to be together and nothing horrible happened.”
Derick’s skin paled, and he pulled me to my feet and against his chest—did he need the support as much as I did?—then he narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you’re right. Young love is pretty powerful.”
“The police still don’t have any leads on her kidnappers. So if these teens were taken again, no one knows who did it.” She wrung her hands together, probably a nervous habit; maybe she realized we were those teens. “Well, I think we’re all done for now. I can’t accept the deposit, not in cash anyway. Drop it by the office tomorrow?”
He nodded.
“Have a great night, you two.” She walked out, humming an 80’s hair band tune and stuffing files back into her bag. Odd woman. Odd situation. Odd everything.
Closing the door with his back, Derick slumped to his butt. “That was more difficult than I expected.”
“Expected?” I flung the book onto the table. “I don’t expect anything. First, you need to explain to me what happened with her, where that ring”—I checked my finger; the rock was gone—“came from, and where it is now, and why she didn’t recognize our pictures on the TV. Then, we need to figure out what this book is.”
His eyebrows drew together. “The book?”
“Derick, look”—I opened to the last page of Aedan Mordha’s entry and pointed as more and more words appeared on the paper—“History of Kalós is a work in progress!”
“Looks like we’re going to be up all night again.”
With everything we needed to learn, that was an understatement. We’d need to stay up for a century.
Derick
ur new lives had this way of making me feel powerless. I should have listened to Abby and taken the week off, enjoyed myself and her—especially her. Now I knew Aedan and the two Fávlosi were looking for us, that they’d wait us out and find Abby the second we tried to leave this island—our Safe Zone. Of course they would.
Evil has nothing better to do than be evil.
I rubbed sleep from my eyes. The words on the pages had started blurring together several hours ago, compounding my frustration. Longboat Key spread across a dozen square miles, not enough to keep us occupied for years—or however long people wanted to chase after Abby.
Why here? Why did my parents have to bring our family to such a small place that summer? They had to have known about this moment, the future my mother saw, the future where Abby needed protection from the rest of the world. So why choose a location that would drive us nuts after a few months, maybe even weeks?
I needed a computer to access the untraceable game and contact my dad so I could ask him all these questions. Using a phone would be too dangerous.
And I needed a plan to break the details of our hideout to Abby without her throwing a fit. Her independent spirit would scream and fight and claw to get out of here as soon as I told her about everything I read, but I had to tell her.
We were in this together.
Abigail
My head pounded, so I rolled over and snuggled closer to Derick, pressing my temple to his firm, muscular thigh. Apparently I was incapable of pulling all-nighters two days in a row.
He whispered as he read and tucked the blanket around me.
I squeezed my eyes closed, avoiding early morning light as long as possible. Derick didn’t protest, so I wasn’t getting up just yet.
We’d watched the pages write themselves for nearly an hour before moving onto another section, but a picture of Aedan in his home haunted me. He looked so familiar and so normal. He wore a charcoal suit, much like an executive from working-class America. His hair was light brown and hung to his shoulders. But Aedan’s black eyes are what bothered me. They were hard, cold, full of rage. If he’d ever been kind in his life, I couldn’t tell.
Hatred controlled him.
I shuddered, and Derick reached under the blanket and rubbed my back, his fingers slowly dragging up my shirt, teasing my skin in a way I’d wanted them to tease for so long.
“You awake?” he asked, his voice caught in his throat.
“Barely. What time is it?” I slid my hand from under my cheek, then made a fist. Pins and needles pricked at my palms.
“7:00 a.m. I think I’ve finally made sense of the Safe Zones.” He curled a strand of hair behind my ear, and I stared up at him. Big, dark circles rested under his blue eyes. He was still beautiful, but how long could we keep up with the late, stressful nights? “Want to hear about them?”
I sat up, pulled myself into a ball, then leaned against his arm for support. “Do I need caffeine first?”
“No. I’ve already done the hard part… and I thought maybe we could spend the day sleeping off the bad night.”
“Sounds like a plan. My head hurts anyway.”
He nodded. “So, no one—not even another Kalóan—can find us here. Outside Safe Zones, our essences give off light and grow brighter every time we use our abilities, allowing other magical beings to track us. Like a sonar system.”
“Our essences? What exactly does that mean?” My eyes hurt too much to try to read the book.
“Yes, our soul—or essence—shines. And when we run really fast or make things invisible, or see through Romancing acts, we glow even brighter. But Safe Zones smother that light.”
“O-kay, but don’t your mom and dad know we’re here?”
“Well, yes and no. From what I understand, that extended trip I took with my parents was the beginning. They used their time here to set protections, like a bubble, over the island. But it seems like now that we’re here, they should somehow forget this place exists.” Derick slid his finger back and forth across the double-columned page, clearly searching for something in the tiny print. “The second key was your desire to be here with me. It says a Safe Zone has to be a place Kalóans can be happy. Mom and Dad know you love the ocean.”
“So we’re safe because we’re happy and this is where we want to be, and somehow your parents knew all this?” Though that last part probably had more to do with the fact his mom saw the future and his dad read minds.
“Something like that.” I heard a smile in his words.
This Safe Zone meant so much for us, a confirmation of our feelings—not that I’d ever needed a confirmation for my feelings. Well, not until I read that stupid book in the Crawford’s kitchen.
But maybe the Safe Zone confirmed running away wasn’t such a bad idea, too.
“So no one can ever find us here?”
Derick took a long, deep breath, puffing his chest out. “If we don’t leave and as long as we’re happy.”
Not the answer I was looking for. “We can’t hide forever!”
As much as I loved being with him, I didn’t want to be a prisoner. We’d never see our families or friends again, travel the world, see the leaves change color, the snow fall. Florida made for a perfect vacation destination, but a permanent residence? Forever on one little island?
No way.
“Remember what we read last night?” Derick brought the book closer to us. “The kidnappers’ powers are fading because they are the last of their kind living in this world.”
“Great, s
o they’ll still be kidnappers, murderers, terrorists, and arsonists, but just less powerful. The fact they won’t be able to track us by our essence anymore won’t exactly help me sleep at night. They want me to open the planes so they can go home.” Actually, they wanted to murder me, return home to get more of their people, then slaughter a bunch of humans.
Humans. I’m not even classifying myself with them anymore. Dr. Pavarti’s name floated through my mind. He would certainly prescribe anti-psychotics, maybe even confine me to an institution—
“Would you listen for a minute?”
I glared at Derick but shut up anyway. Apparently all-nighters weren’t for either of us.
“Abby, Boredas and Ruckus are the last of their kind living in this world, and they’re also the only other spirits still here.”
“So…?”
“Once they’re gone, you’re safe, and we can go back to living a normal life.”
Coffee. I needed coffee. Getting to my feet, I tossed the blanket onto the couch and headed for the kitchen.
“Where are you going?”
Did he seriously not realize what he’d implied? “Derick, really? Boredas isn’t much older than us. Are you suggesting we wait here for him and his brother to pass away—hide for thirty or forty years, quite possibly longer—and then go back to normal life?”
Cups. We have to have cups around here somewhere.
“Here. Maybe I need coffee too.” Reaching around me, Derick opened the cabinet and pulled out two white mugs and a canister of Hazelnut grounds, then added a few teaspoons of it in the filter while I added water.
“Your idea is confining, isolating, and… and—”
“Idiotic?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Valedictorian. I’m not letting some spirits—that may or may not be a figment of my traumatized imagination—from some other plane steal my life. Or yours.”
A flicker of something crossed his eyes, a flicker of something I didn’t recognize.
“Derick?” I placed a mug directly under the percolator, then turned his face toward me. “Whoa. What is this? Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”