by C. M. Fenn
“I’m so glad you knew. That is wasn’t me. I’m so glad, Addy.”
I lay my hand on his chest over his heart and feel the strong thumping underneath his ribs. For a second I forget all about Mikhail and the Elder Shade. I even forget we’re in the kitchen surrounded by friends. For a few short seconds, it’s just the two of us.
“I’d know this heart anywhere,” I reassure him. He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing my palm.
“I’ll feel much better once you’re with me in L.A.” My heart skips a beat when I think about living in the same house with him. He’ll be so close to me. I’ll get to see him all the time.
I lean back to look at him better, my heart warming at the sight of his smile. I love the way he studies my face, as if he’s committing every detail to memory. He’s playing absently with a lock of my hair when Lang interrupts.
“Okay, you two, hate to break up the love fest, but we’ve got some details to hammer out.” My cheeks warm when I see Lang’s smirk.
“I never wish to leave good company, but I’ve got to be in Bangkok in about twenty hours.” He looks around the room at the other Walkers. “I know we all need to get back to our lives, but I’d feel much better knowing we aren’t leaving Addy completely alone.”
“Hey! What am I? Chopped liver?” Ember says indignantly. “I’m staying right by Addy’s side for as long as it’s necessary.”
“I’ll be fine, Lang. I’m heading to L.A. base later today so I won’t be alone. Besides, I’m not completely helpless you know.”
He laughs. “Yeah, you were pretty awesome last night. We should go Shade bowling more often.”
This starts a bustling conversation as everyone relives last night’s adventures. I watch their joy-filled faces as they exchange battle tales, always trying to “one up” each other. I feel so close to these people.
After a little while, Timothy and Kira come stumbling out of the back of the house looking sleepy-eyed and ravenous. Angel, Faye, and Ben have replaced them out in Chaos.
Soon, it’s time to say good-bye. Sam sets up a schedule with everyone so that missions in Chaos will run around the clock. I help them all gather up their things and thank them for coming to my graduation.
One by one they wave good-bye as they climb into taxi cabs that will take them to the airport. Sam, Crank, Ember and I will drive back to California later, so when it’s just the four of us left, I take some time to pack up a few essentials that I’ll need for my new home.
“Don’t bring a ton of clothes,” Ember insists for the third time. “I’m taking you shopping when we get there. It’ll be fun! Plus, you need the distraction.” Guilt hits me hard in the chest as I think of shopping with Ember while Mikhail is imprisoned in Chaos. Everything about this is wrong. If I could talk to him, maybe he could explain himself.
I lose my train of thought when I hear my mom shout from the living room, “Addy! We’re home. Come here please.”
When I find her, Sam’s telling her how all of our friends are sorry they missed her this morning and how they all wanted to thank her for being so gracious.
“Well, they were a pleasure!” she insists.
Jana echoes her sentiments. “Yeah, last night was so much fun. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much.”
Sam and I exchange a quick glance. Our night wasn’t so fun.
“Addy.” Mom digs in her purse and pulls out a pretty green box the size of a deck of cards with a bow on it. “Jana and I wanted to get you a little something for a graduation-slash-going-away gift.”
“Oh, wow.” I say, caught off guard. “Thanks guys.” She hands me the box. It jingles a little as something inside slides around. I untie the bow and take the lid off. A pair of keys sit inside. I stare at them blankly.
Ember gasps and disappears, running to the front room. I hear the front door open. I look at my mom and sister, both wearing identical grins.
I try to find words. “Really?” is all I can manage.
“I know you love your dad’s truck, sweetie,” Mom explains, “but I want you to be safe. Don’t worry—I’m keeping the truck here and I promise I’ll take good care of it. I don’t want to be constantly afraid of you breaking down so far from home.”
“Addy! Come look!” Ember shouts from the front yard. My curiosity drives me to her. There, parked in the driveway is a brand-new, dark green SUV. It’s one of those sporty cross-over vehicles that are smaller than a full-sized off-roader but bigger than a sedan.
“Whoa!” I shout. Ember’s already looking through the front windows.
“Open ‘er up already! Come on! Let’s take her out!” I run back to my mom who’s standing in the doorway and hug her fiercely.
“Do you like it?” she asks, laughing.
“I love it, Mom! Thanks! It’s perfect.”
“Jana picked it out.”
I reach over and hug Jana. “Thanks Sis.”
“Yeah well, you can pay me back by letting me borrow it when I come visit you in L.A. I’ll need something I can fit all my surfer boyfriends into.”
Laughing, I say, “Yeah, right.”
I motion for Sam and Crank and they follow me out to the car. We take it around the block a few times.
“This will work out great, Addy,” Sam says from the passenger seat. “You and I can take your car, and Ember and Crank can take hers. We can take turns. One of us can drive while the other takes a shift in Chaos.”
“I can go back out?” I ask, surprised.
“No. I’m sorry, Addy. It’s too dangerous.”
I didn’t really think he would let me, and this time I don’t insist. I know there’s nothing I can do at this point to contribute. If I go out into Chaos again, it will only provoke the Elder Shade and cause more harm than good.
“There are other things you could do though. Like practice training or studying. Who knows? Maybe there’s something in the Chronicles that might offer us some kind of clue about beating this guy.”
Busy work.
I know as well as he does that there’s nothing in the Chronicles about Elder Shades. The Walkers have all read it already, and their enhanced memories wouldn’t let them forget something like that. I give him a look and his expression turns guilty.
“Just for a while, okay? Until we figure something else out.”
“Yeah, okay,” I say, making a point not to look and sound as sour as I feel. Pouting won’t help the situation.
Once back home, we eat a hearty lunch and get ready to leave for California.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay another day?” Mom asks, standing in the driveway, starting to look a little panicky.
“Yeah, sorry Mom. I wanna get up there today so Sam can help me move in before he has to go back to work on Monday.” Mom doesn’t know I’ll be sharing a house with Sam and Crank. I’ve yet to think of a way to tell her that won’t keep her up at night worrying about my virtue. I know she trusts me and she adores Sam, but being the perceptive mother that she is, she’s picked up on the chemistry between the two of us.
“Well,” she wrings her hands absently as Sam throws the last of our bags into the back of my new car. She chokes out a laugh to try and cover up the fact that she’s on the verge of tears. “I never thought this day would come so soon.”
Jana rolls her eyes behind Mom and I try not to laugh out loud. “I’m not that far away, really. And you can have Gram come check on me whenever you want.” I hug her tightly. “I love you, Mom. Thanks so much for everything. For the car, for taking care of me. I’m gonna miss you.”
“Call me AT LEAST every other day. And you three,” she points at my friends sternly, “keep her safe and out of trouble, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they say in unison.
I squeeze Jana one last time and get behind the wheel.
“Call me when you get there so I know you made it!” Mom hollers as I wave good-bye. Sam settles back into the passenger side seat.
“I’ll see you in a few hours,” he winks and smiles at me before closing his eyes.
“Be safe,” I say, but he’s already gone.
Chapter 48
The drive to my new home is blissful. After two hours Sam wakes up and we spend the rest of the drive talking. We talk about everything—our favorite music, movies we consider classics, books we’ve both enjoyed.
We talk about our plans for California. Sam’s wanted to get a dog for a long time but was worried about having just him and Crank there to take care of it. With Ember and I there now, he thinks we should get one. “Our L.A. base mascot,” he says. We talk about what breeds we like and ultimately decide to get a shelter dog.
We stop to fill the cars with gas, and Crank climbs into the driver’s seat of Ember’s Mustang.
“Whoa, Crank, are you even old enough to drive?” He and Sam both wear sheepish looks.
“Uhhhh,” is all I get from Crank.
Eyebrows arched, I turn to Sam who’s replacing the cap on the gas tank.
“What’s this, Officer Dixon?” I enunciate his title teasingly.
“Ah,” he shrugs. “He might not have a license, but he can drive. I taught him myself.”
“Besides,” Crank defends himself, “I could take this baby apart and put her back together again in an hour flat! Why shouldn’t I be able to drive her?”
“Ha!” I bark. “Good point.”
Back behind the wheel again, I take a risk and venture into a topic with Sam that I’ve been curious about for a long time.
“Hey, can I ask you something personal?”
“Of course you can,” he says mildly, but he stares out the window like he knows what’s coming.
“Where’s your family?” I ask gently. “Did you lose them?” He’s quiet for a little while.
He fishes his wallet from his back pocket, gingerly takes out two photographs, and passes them to me. I hold them in front of me and study them over the steering wheel. One picture is of a young woman, maybe my age. She’s sitting on a black-and-white carousel horse and smiling at the person behind the lens. She’s blonde and has large blue eyes the same shade as Sam’s.
“That’s Rebecca. My older sister.” I glance at him as he says her name. The tenderness in his eyes is heartbreaking.
“She’s beautiful.”
The second picture is of a young couple, and it’s faded and worn from time. The man and woman are sitting on a brownish-orange couch, and their clothes and hairstyles are straight out of the seventies. The photographer caught the woman laughing, her head back and mouth open in a grin. There’s a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She is breathtakingly beautiful. The dark-haired man was caught admiring her, the look of adoration on his face forever frozen in time. On the woman’s lap is a light-haired baby in a pink-and-white jumper.
“Your parents?”
“Yeah.”
I pass the pictures back to him and watch as he carefully, almost reverently, puts them back into his wallet.
“We lived in northern California. When I was fifteen, we were in a bad accident. My parents were in the front seats and died right away. Rebecca was next to me in the back. She ended up in a coma for a week before she passed.”
My eyes burn and prickle. I slowly shake my head back and forth. I hate how unfair this world can be sometimes.
“I’m so sorry.” I know the words are inadequate but nothing I could say would make it any better. We sit in heavy silence for a few miles. I don’t look at him because I’m afraid if I see tears in his eyes, I’ll lose it and have to pull over.
“I’ve wanted to tell you,” he finally speaks. “I want you to know me. It’s just been hard. I mean, it’s not something you come right out and say.”
“I know. It’s okay. Thank you for wanting to tell me. It’s rotten what happened and I hate it. But I’m happy to know you better. I think everything we experience, especially the bad stuff—” the sound of screeching tires rings through my memory, “it shapes us. It makes us who we are, for better or worse. I’m glad to know that part of you. It makes me appreciate your strength even more.”
He reaches for my hand across the seat and weaves his fingers through mine. “Thanks Addy,” he says simply. The genuine gratitude in his voice makes me smile.
Once we get about thirty miles out, we pull over so Sam can drive the rest of the way to the base. I start to get nervous as we cruise into an upscale neighborhood. The homes we pass are huge, surrounded by sprawling green lawns and guarded with heavy security gates.
“Um, is this our neighborhood?”
Sam looks at me sideways and smiles slyly.
We stop outside a large, gilded, two-door gate with a roaring lion’s head protruding from the middle of each side. Sam clicks a button on his key ring and the gates swing inward. My suspicions are confirmed when we roll up to the front of the largest red brick mansion I’ve ever seen.
“Holy crap, Sam! Is this a joke?” I hear the panic in my voice.
Confused, he looks back and forth between the house and me. “You’re upset? Don’t you like it?”
“How am I supposed to explain this to my mom?” I gesture at the house frantically. “She’s supposed to come visit me next month!”
“Oh.” He’s very unsuccessfully fighting a smile.
“Oh?” I ask, incredulous.
He’s laughing–no—he’s GIGGLING.
“Saaaam,” I say plaintively.
“Don’t worry, Addy. We’ll find an explanation. You’re supposed to be moving in with Ember, right? Who’s to say she’s not secretly a millionaire?”
“Oh man,” I grumble.
Once inside, Crank dashes from room to room as he gives me and Ember the tour, his exuberance making his English hard to understand.
With the high-class neighborhood and the sheer size of the house, I’d been expecting everything on the inside to be opulent and lavish. I’m surprised to find instead the house is completely practical.
The furniture is comfortable and sturdy, the spaces used well. There are rooms for exercise, some for entertainment, some for study. There’s even an office that’s nearly identical to the logistics room at Major Calm. The kitchen is large with lots of seating areas, an oversized fridge, and a giant walk-in pantry. The place is filled to the brim with food, which is probably a good thing considering how much and how often we eat.
Overall, the house is cozy and welcoming. The only extravagant thing about it is its size. There are eight bedrooms, each with their own personal bathroom. Ember and I pick rooms across the hall from each other.
I call Mom to let her know I made it safely and then take a few minutes to settle in. It’s strange that a brand-new place can already feel so much like home.
Sam and Crank welcome Ember and me to the base by cooking dinner for us. After consuming enough food to feed a small army, we all clean up together.
“I know it’s still pretty early,” I say once we are finished, “but I think I’m gonna head to Chaos.”
Sam eyes me suspiciously. “What do you have planned?” He tries to sound casual.
“Something very unpleasant,” I say dramatically.
I smile at their confused expressions. “Well, I can’t go on missions so I have to do something useful.” My mood sours as I anticipate what I’m about to do. “I’m going to bite the bullet and help Simone.”
“Do you think she’ll let you?” Ember asks scornfully.
I nod my head. “She will, even if I have to pledge a lifetime of servitude—which is very likely—I’ll get her to let me.”
I say good night to my friends, Sam last of all.
He seems pleased with my renewed determination to help Simone.
Hugging me good night, he says, “I’m glad you’re going to try again with Simone. She may be difficult, but we could sure use the extra help that another ability would give us on the battlefield. Good luck, Addy.”
“Thanks Sam. I’ll need it.”
Chapter
49
I stare hard at the black door in front of me, hand hovering in the air by my face, knuckles poised inches from the shiny surface. I swallow once, then again, trying to force down the lump of dread that has lodged in my throat. Dread—or is it pride? Isn’t that what they say? Swallow your pride? I understand that phrase better now.
Here goes.
I rap politely on the door, four short knocks. There’s movement inside and after a few seconds the knob turns. I’m beginning to grow used to Simone’s ever-changing appearance, so I’m not too startled when a stranger opens the door.
Tonight Simone is a willowy strawberry blonde with light freckles peppering her nose and cheekbones. Her delicate mouth is framed by coral lips, and her large eyes are pale green adorned with long, soft, golden lashes. Again, I’m in awe of her beauty. This one’s a kind of natural, dainty loveliness you would expect to see on an elf or a water nymph, if such beings existed. This is the most striking version of Simone I’ve seen yet.
I’m shocked when her trademark sneer doesn’t instantly mar her perfect face. Simone stares back at me with an almost empty expression. The only trace of emotion is deep within her eyes. If I weren’t so aware of her mood, I might not catch the misery hiding there.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out.
Her eyebrows rise. We stare at each other for a moment. She keeps her face very still, but I can feel the conflicts within her. So many emotions—fear, anger, longing, frustration.
“Please Simone,” I say desperately, “let me in.”
Whether she takes me to mean, Let me into your room, Let me into your mind, or maybe even Let me into your heart, she steps aside and opens the door wide.
After closing the door behind me, I follow her to her bed where she sits cross-legged, propped up against a dozen throw pillows. Without waiting for permission, I climb up and sit across from her. She still hasn’t said anything, but I feel the ache coming from her. It hurts me nearly as badly as it does her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she says softly, eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t pity me.”
“It’s not pity.”
She huffs and looks down at her hands in her lap.