Shattered Secrets

by Krystal Wade

  “Derick?” I flailed, heart pounding, treading water and spinning in circles. “Derick!”

  What the hell?

  Where’d he go?

  “Abby,” he shouted above the chaos of screams and thunderous booms all around us, “I’m behind you, at the edge of the pool. Take my hand. We have to run.”

  “Run where?” I grabbed hold of him, and he pulled me to my feet.

  Another rumble shook the concrete, cracking the pool in two.

  He stared at the water cascading through the lawn, his eyes wide, panicked. “Anywhere.”

  “What’s happening?”

  An older man ran by us, hair disheveled, skin gray, screaming Will’s name. Not angry, but afraid.

  Flames licked the side of the house. I glanced to our left. Every house burned.

  “I don’t know, but let’s follow him.”

  We ran down to the beach and found a crowd huddled around something. Derick squeezed through the people, keeping a tight hold on my hand, tethering me to him.

  He broke through the last of the guys and girls, who didn’t appear to notice us, and stopped.

  Will and Megan lay on the sand.

  Arms and legs sticking out at odd directions.

  Covered in blood.

  Dead.

  Aedan Mordha stood over their pale, mangled bodies, smiling.

  He looked right at me with his cold, determined eyes and said, “You did this, Abigail Doran.”

  screamed, and Derick covered my mouth with his wet hand. We weren’t by the ocean anymore. We were in the pool, and the music and lights were all back to normal.

  “Promise not to scream again.” He pulled me close, holding me tightly, but I felt him shaking. “She’s okay, Will.”

  “Does Abby speak for herself?” The animosity in Will’s voice didn’t match that of the gentle guy I’d known since grade school. He sounded more like the agitated Derick on the beach earlier, before we downed five or six beers.

  Their roles reversed.

  “I’m fine,” I said without turning around, then I whispered, “Tell me you saw that too.”

  Derick nodded, his lips tight. “I think we need to sober up and go home.”

  “I think that was pretty sobering.” Every ounce of fun I had evaporated and left me with an instant hangover.

  I might never drink again.

  We climbed out of the pool, water draining from our clothes and splattering on the concrete. Most of the partygoers remained oblivious to our changed attitudes; they kept singing and dancing, but not Will and Megan. I couldn’t look at them without seeing images of Will’s head bashed in and Megan’s arms and legs broken and limp at her sides. Hallucination or not, the pain of their death brought on uncontrollable tears.

  They stared at me, and who could blame them? I screamed while in the pool, and now I was crying like a baby.

  Will took a couple steps forward, eyes focused on Derick. “What’s wrong with her? What did you do?”

  Why would Will insist Derick did something to me? Of all people.

  “I’m okay, Will. It’s just”—I needed to lie, or stall them, or hell, maybe we could tell them the truth, even though the truth wouldn’t make sense. I needed my friends, alive, well. We’d have to start slow—“I sometimes get flashbacks.”

  “Flashbacks of what?” Megan propped her hands on her hips, looking from me to Derick, her eyes narrow and her lips pressed together like a mother deciding a punishment for her children.

  We drank a lot, but Megan and Will seemed as sober as me and Derick, almost like they were scared straight.

  How loud did I scream?

  Taking a deep breath, I resigned myself to tell Megan a simple truth for now. Maybe it would make sense and she’d let us go home, where we could figure out exactly how to explain this to them. “I was kidnapped, and every now and then, the memories overwhelm me.”

  “That’s terrible. My best friend”—Her eyes widened—please make the connection—“Oh. The news! There’ve been so many bad things.”

  She didn’t recognize me. My heart sank to my feet, draining away with the pool water.

  Megan hugged my neck, pressing my soggy clothes against my skin, and I squeezed her right back. “Do you need to talk? Do you guys need help? Your parents are probably so worried—”

  “Megan.” Will tugged her arm, pulling Megan away, but he kept his gaze on Derick.

  Some weird, male thing passed between them. All clenched fists and teeth and puffed out chests, territorial and possessive.

  I had no idea why.

  “I Tweeted and Facebooked videos begging for my friends’ kidnappers to return them.”

  And Megan left me little time to figure out this new tension.

  “How could you run away and leave them to worry? That’s not right.” She shook her head and bit her lip. “But you’ve been through so much. You don’t need to listen to me lecture you.”

  Megan’s colorless skin flashed in my mind again. You did this.

  I shuddered.

  Derick saved me once, but what did fate have in store for Megan and Will? What did Aedan have in store for me that involved them?

  As long as the Guardian’s secret remained safe, Aedan couldn’t come to this plane.

  Hopefully.

  Which meant I didn’t want to know the secret.

  Which meant my friends would be safe.

  “We’re gonna take off.” Derick grabbed my hand and pulled me to the house. Glancing over his shoulder, he turned the door handle. “You okay?”

  A fresh pang of guilt hit my gut, and not throwing up took a lot of restraint. “Yeah. Let’s just get home.”

  Liar. Liar. I was far from okay.

  “Hey. Wait up!” Will called, jogging after us. “I’ll come by the condo tomorrow.”

  “Fine,” Derick mumbled.

  I leaned into him, needing to feel something real, something not scary.

  “I’ll bring Megan.” Will met my eyes and sighed. “The girls can hang out, and you and I can talk protection—”

  “Protection?” Derick arched an eyebrow. “From what?”

  “I’ll explain everything tomorrow.”

  He’ll explain everything? I thought we were the ones who needed to explain our situation. What did he believe he needed to protect us from? Our parents? The cops? He and Megan were the last people I wanted to see right now. I just wanted to go home, to shower and put on my pajamas and curl up next to Derick on the couch until we figured out what the hell was going on—if that was even possible. Too bad blowing them off wouldn’t be fair, not now. “I’ll make dinner. Does 5:00 sound good?”

  Will ran a hand through his hair, hair not covered in blood.

  I cringed.

  “I’ll check with Megan and then call you. What’s your number?”

  “We only have a pay-as-you go phone. I have no idea what the number is,” Derick said, voice flat.

  Did images of fire and death and evil flash through his mind too?

  “Okay.” Will brushed by us and grabbed a cell off the kitchen countertop. “Take mine. I’ll call you.”

  “Thanks.” Derick pocketed the phone. “Later.”

  We rushed out the door and into the Mustang. I had to get out of there. That vision was too much, and I wanted nothing more than to be away from Will’s house. I couldn’t stand the thought of either of them dying.

  Not because of me.

  “What was it, Derick?” I pulled out my shoulder bag and clutched it in my lap. My life kept spiraling further and further out of control. I needed security.

  In any way I could find it.

  Pathetic.

  He pried my hand off the bag, then laced his fingers with mine. Security came from Derick, from being honest with him, from our hands resting on the shifter. Security came from normal.

  “You said the book showed you something last night, something about a secret. What did you mean—aside from what you already told me?”
/>   So much for honesty. “I don’t know. All that time passed, and I didn’t realize it. I could have dreamed everything, remember?”

  “So you didn’t eat all day because of a dream? That doesn’t sound like the Abigail I know.”

  Why did we have to know each other so well?

  “Derick…” What could I say that wouldn’t clue him in about the secret, something that would make him forget I’d even mentioned it? Maybe the book would answer my questions if I asked them again tonight… with Derick present. “I was frustrated, so I asked where I should start. The pages erased, then new ink appeared. The book told me about my birth father. I’m not just an Elder’s heir; I’m the last Guardian Elder’s child, Derick. And prior to Aedan, who used to be friends with my dad, every Elder was a Guardian.”

  “You’re saying the book understands you?” A small smile graced the corner of his mouth.

  Deep, relaxing breath. “Is it really that hard to believe? I mean the book writes itself.”

  He chuckled and turned into our parking spot. “The look on your face last night. Well, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you look so freaked out.”

  “There’s just so much going on.” I yawned—the alcohol and adrenaline and excitement from the party were all gone—and stumbled out of the car toward Unit 242. For all I knew, my body could have floated back to our room. And I had no idea how I wound up in dry pajamas and in bed. “We should tell Will and Megan flat-out tomorrow. It’s not fair. And maybe after we sleep, that idea won’t sound so scary.”

  Derick sat on the edge of the mattress and kissed my forehead, sending a gnawing ache to my gut, a longing for closeness. I spent years imagining being his girlfriend, and none of those daydreams involved running from the unknown.

  “There’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep. Not after that. He blamed you, Abby. Blamed you. I have to figure out how to kill him before he kills our friends.”

  Kill him? “Who?”

  “Aedan. There has to be a way. I won’t let him get to you. I won’t let him hurt Will or Megan and destroy you with the guilt. You were right; we can’t just stay here as prisoners and wait for Boredas and Ruckus to die. We have to fight.” He jumped to his feet, then stomped down the hall. “And I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

  I tossed the blankets. “Where are you going?”

  “To read.” He picked up the book and paced the living room, his bare feet slapping the tile. “First I’m going to look at the section about those of us who can see the future—or through planes, or however my dad described it. It’s the only half of us we know nothing about.”

  “Can you read it in here? I don’t want to be alone.” What if I saw someone else’s death? I wouldn’t be able to handle looking at Derick dead on a beach. And I definitely couldn’t sleep if I saw Mom or Dad or Mr. Crawford. Suddenly, knowing the Guardians’ secret seemed important, but at the same time, I didn’t want to know, I didn’t want to be responsible for Kalós or for this plane. I wanted the guy wearing a path in the floor. “Please?”

  He stopped, the book open in his grasp, and stared at me. Derick reminded me of how my father looked when he was worried: big line in the center of his forehead, shoulders slumped and defeated yet tense in a way I’d never felt tension. But then, Derick smiled and something changed. Gasping, he rubbed his chest.

  Tingles spread from my breastbone, rushing to my belly and arms and toes.

  I craved.

  Desperately.

  I craved kissing and touching Derick. I craved feeling something other than fear and guilt.

  “I can’t,” he said, barely a whisper. A few seconds later, Derick lay by my side, nose to nose, the book discarded on the nightstand. His blue eyes burned through me, so intense, so focused. “We can’t. Not this way. You deserve happiness, and doing this when we’re so afraid… I’ll swear myself into priesthood before I ruin something meant to be special.”

  “I know.” Swallowing back my desire, I closed my eyes and saw Will and Megan again. “I keep seeing them.”

  “Me, too.” He pulled me closer and pressed his chin to the top of my head. “I’m going to figure this out for you, for us.”

  “For Will and Megan.”

  Sitting up, Derick nodded, grabbed the book and flipped on the light. “For Will and Megan.”

  woke up to Derick rubbing small circles on my shoulder with his index finger. The bright light of the invading sun couldn’t bother me in this moment. Neither could the hangover or any of the crap I’d learned about in the last few days.

  “Good morning.” A trace of dark stubble lined his jaw, and his eyes were all puffy.

  Pressing my hand to my mouth, I smiled. No matter how tired and worn-out we were from a night full of drinking and strange premonitions and reading stupid books, nothing could change the fact that I loved waking up next to him.

  He peeled back my fingers. “Don’t cover that look.”

  “What look?”

  “The one I’ve been laughing at while you snored for the last twenty minutes.”

  I grabbed my pillow and then whacked him on the head. Derick popped up on his knees, wrapped his arms around me, then knocked me on my back and tickled my sides.

  Giggles came first, then I kicked and screamed and thrashed. The devilish grin on his face told me I’d lost and the best way for me to breathe again would be to sit still.

  Always.

  “Okay. Okay. Uncle. Please, just stop tickling me.”

  “Too easy.” He rolled over, allowing me oxygen again—thank God—and propped up his head with his hand. “I have a plan.”

  Sudden switch.

  Scary.

  “And?”

  “You remember playing cops and robbers in the woods behind your house?”

  “You’re banking our lives on a game we played when we were little?” I laughed, but what I really wanted to do was cry, especially when I remembered Derick always won. The problem was: he played the robber.

  He sat up and crossed his legs, his expression hardening to something more protective and annoyed-like. A look I didn’t recognize. “I saved you once. I can do it again. This won’t be much different.”

  “So… we set out fake money, eat donuts, and wait for… who?” The last time Derick mentioned figuring things out, he talked about killing Aedan. But he didn’t live on the human plane. No amount of cops and robbers would change that, not unless I knew the secret.

  “Close.” Derick took my hand in his sweaty palms, and my heart stuttered.

  Nervous didn’t exist in his life.

  “What?”

  “We leave the Safe Zone.” He glanced at the open book on the nightstand, then back at me. “My dad said we should contact him through the game, but we don’t have a computer. This island is so small; there isn’t even a McDonalds, let alone a Best Buy or any reputable electronics shop.”

  “You want to contact him? Why? I thought—”

  Derick grabbed the book. He settled the gigantic thing in his lap and flipped through the pages. “I did a lot of reading last night, and apparently if we use the game, we’ll still be guarded by the magic of the Zone.”

  “O-kay, but what do you want to talk to him about?” I shifted on the bed so that I was sitting next to Derick, thigh-to-thigh, and peered at the pages. “This is the section about Cognizants and how they see the future. I’m confused.”

  “I have a ton of questions for him. Like why here? This tiny island we can never leave. And then about what we saw last night.” He pointed at the first paragraph. “It says here that—”

  All the ink faded while Derick spoke, and as though an invisible artist drew in the book while I watched, a crumbling stone wall covered in ivy and moss appeared on the pages. A big wooden door with an arched top and small, arched window behind wrought-iron lattice stood majestically within the image.

  I reached out and touched the paper with the tips of my fingers, my body responding with little input from me. A w
arm breeze drifted across my shoulders, settling the slight tension in them. Taking a deep breath, I placed my palm on the page and closed my eyes.

  Birds sang, exchanging calls from perches up high and down low. Leaves rustled in the wind. I spared a glance around and found I wasn’t in my room anymore, yet I felt calm.

  Peaceful.

  At home.

  “There is very little he or she can do to change the future once it’s been foreseen.” Derick shook my arm. “You practicing the art of ignoring people?”

  The door, ivy, wall, and peace evaporated, and once again, words appeared on the page: I’m sharing the secret with you, Abigail Doran, but you cannot tell anyone else.

  But I don’t want to know.

  Was I just in History of Kalós? Impossible. I could believe a lot of things, but not that. There’s no way air from inside a book touched me. There’s no way I heard birds singing and—

  “Abby?

  I stared through Derick and raised an eyebrow, hoping to avoid any scrutiny for my lack of paying attention—or any questions. “What did you say?”

  “I said there’s nothing we can do to change the fact Will and Megan are going to… that’s not what you’re crying about though.” He reached up and wiped a stupid tear from my eye, a tear I didn’t realize was there.

  Damn emotions.

  “What is it?”

  I shook my head, afraid any words would compound the lies. I wanted to tell him, but how could I? This magical book kept telling me not to. This book that knew more about the world and us and our places than seemingly anyone else.

  He slammed History of Kalós closed, then jumped off the bed. “I know you well, Abigail. I know that you hate when people aren’t honest. I know you’re a stubborn girl who will fight for everything she believes in. And I know you weren’t listening to anything I read. You were thinking about whatever’s been on your mind since yesterday. Stop pretending I can’t see through you and tell me what happened just now.”

  He’d believe me if I told him I thought our book somehow transported me to a magical place, but the power driving the words onto the page wanted me to keep secrets. I should tell him, but I had to keep quiet until I knew more. “Nothing happened.”