Shadows of Green & Gold: A contemporary young adult fantasy suspense (Green and Gold, book 2)

by Jo Holloway

  “So Rhys walked up while I was there. At first, it was fine. Then Jenyx showed himself in Jenner’s eyes, and . . .”

  “His reaction was quite negative, I’m afraid,” Jenyx chimed in.

  Wes’s eyes darted to him on the floor, but Cara just huffed. “Yeah, that’s an understatement, Jenyx. It was more than negative. He totally exploded. He started shouting at me to get Jenyx away from his sister. The whole place was watching. People came over so I got out of there and . . . I can’t go back.”

  Jory was on his feet. His face turned crimson with fury. She’d never seen him look so mad, not even the first time he’d shouted at her in the alley before they knew each other.

  “He yelled at you? That stuck up . . . what an entitled . . . what a jackass. He had no right to yell at you.”

  A measure of lightness crept back with his words. She almost chuckled at the irony.

  Wes stood and put a hand on Jory’s shoulder to calm him down, but his face was drawn tight, too, as he studied her reaction.

  “No, it’s okay,” she said. “He was just protecting his sister, I think.”

  The words surprised her as they came out of her mouth. Jory’s anger was what she’d been going for. It was all the things she’d been telling herself as she stomped down the stairs after leaving. So why was she defending Rhys now?

  Her throat constricted, and she had to swallow hard, fighting back the prickling tears again at the memory of the scene in the hospital and the support of her friends now. Her voice abandoned her, and she didn’t feel up to telling them about Olivia being a pyxis, or her revelation about her bizarre empathy. She was too exhausted to stay in control of herself, and she didn’t want to cry in front of them. Jenner sat up and looked at her with his head tilted to one side.

  “Maybe I should go home and tell my uncle I’ll go to the gala before it’s too late.” Her voice cracked as she started to stand. Both boys stood in her way.

  “You don’t have to go,” Wes said.

  “No, you definitely shouldn’t go now. Not after all that. The guy is a total monster, obviously.” Jory’s expression was still thunderous, but the red had left his face. He sat back down beside her and bumped his shoulder against hers. “You don’t have to go near him.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she told herself as much as them. “No, listen. You guys were right the first time. Actually, Wes was right all along. We need to talk to him. One of us has to ask him why he’s hunting the Pyx. The gala is a big public event. His family is well known, so he won’t want to make a scene.” The name Libby came to mind. “Just look at the lengths they’ve gone to in hiding Olivia, and his mom, wherever she is.”

  “Then we’ll come with you,” Jory said.

  “How?” She gave him a side-eyed look. “You don’t have tickets.”

  “There are some benefits to rich absentee parents,” he replied softly. “I can guilt them into paying a lot to buy a couple tickets off someone for me and Wes.”

  A piece of her heart broke off and shattered for him. She put an arm around him and leaned her head against his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought, but he knows both of you too. I think it would make things worse if we were all there.”

  CARA WAS GLAD TO FIND her uncle’s rental car parked out front when she got home. She’d stayed a bit longer, enjoying the company of her best friends and listening while they talked about other things to distract her. Her legs ached from the day as she climbed the front steps and let herself and Jenner into the house. The walks between the hospital, Jory’s house, and home had given her time to think, but it had been a long day. The shin-abusing trip down the hospital stairs probably hadn’t helped.

  “Wow,” Cara said. Her uncle stood in the living room in a full tuxedo.

  “Hey, Care Bear, how was your day?” he asked, coming over to ruffle her hair.

  “Josh was just trying on his tux,” her mom called from the kitchen door. “How was the volunteering this morning?” Her voice was too cheerful for Cara to answer honestly.

  “It was fine,” she replied.

  Her uncle gave her a look through narrowed eyes, seeing from her face that it wasn’t fine. She shook her head at him. His eyebrows arched, but he bit back any words.

  “So, about the tuxedo . . . Can I still come with you on Saturday?” she asked.

  “Of course, kiddo. I was hoping you’d say that,” Josh replied in a hushed tone. “Do I get to tell your mom?”

  “Sure, but can I ask you something first?”

  “Anything.”

  She studied her hands and bit her lip. “Have you ever heard of a Pyxsee being able to sense Pyx?”

  “Like the way they sense each other?” Josh sat down and patted the couch beside him.

  She took a seat. “Sort of. More like sensed what they were feeling.”

  “No, I don’t think I have. But I can ask around with some other contacts I know. Why? Is that happening to you?”

  She nodded.

  “Huh. Interesting. It’s kind of cool—” He stopped talking at the look on her face. “I take it it’s not cool.”

  Her head jerked to one side as she frowned. She was about to need another hug for support before she started crying again. Josh read her mind like he sometimes did and gave her a squeeze with one arm.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Cara looked up into his hazel-green-and-gold-streaked eyes. “What did you mean last year when you said there are bad Pyx?”

  He took his arm back from her shoulder and sat up a little straighter. His mouth hung open for a moment before he closed it. When he answered, his voice was guarded. “I meant most of them are basically good, but there are bad ones out there. You’re old enough to know how the world works. You know people do plenty of bad things, but it’s only a few really bad people who do terrible things to others. Pyx are the same as any other species that way. They’ve just been around a lot longer, so they’ve moved beyond most of that. An evil Pyx would be much more rare than an evil person. Are you going to tell me why you asked?”

  “I think I might have met one,” she said. “I’m not sure if she’s evil or just a Pyx who did something bad and is stuck with the consequences.”

  Josh turned his head to Jenner. “I thought you were keeping her safe.” His accusing tone was clear.

  “The presence of the Pyx in question was entirely unexpected; however, I assure you Cara was in no danger,” Jenyx replied.

  “It’s true. There were tons of people around. Nothing could have happened to me,” Cara confirmed.

  Except being shouted at and made to feel like you were dying. But, yeah . . . nothing.

  Josh pulled her to her feet again. He examined her like he was checking her for injuries.

  “I’m fine,” she said. Her hand moved to rub her shoulder where Olivia had kicked her when the Pyx reacted to Jenyx. The bruise was already starting to grow tender. “I just got a really bad feeling when I was around her.”

  “Wild animal? Or was it someone’s pet?”

  “Uh, I’m . . . not sure . . .” She felt tense and guarded, like she didn’t want to tell him.

  Looking past her uncle to where Jenner sat calmly in the middle of the floor, she was starting to understand Jenyx was projecting the feeling to her, whether he meant to or not. He’d explained to her last year that the Pyx had a law against using a human pyxis, and she got the distinct impression he didn’t want to discuss the fact that one of them had broken that law.

  “What I meant was, can you avoid it from now on, just in case?” Josh still sounded edgy.

  “Yeah,” Cara replied. She didn’t have much choice about avoiding Olivia now. Rhys would have made sure she and Jenner were banned from going back there.

  “Good. Do that,” Josh said. “Do you need another hug?”

  Her frown gave her away, and she ducked in to accept the comfort of the closest thing to a father she had.

  “Okay, now shake it off so we can make your mom happ
y. Ready?” He was looking at her with the mischievous twinkle he got sometimes.

  She tilted her head and peered at him, suspicious. “I think so . . .”

  “Good.” With a devilish grin, he scooped her up behind the knees and shoulders, sweeping her feet off the ground in a princess carry. “Oh Sa-andra!” he called to the kitchen as Cara squealed at the shock of being picked up. “We have a princess in need of a ba-all gown here!”

  There was a shriek from the kitchen and the sound of something clattering on the stovetop. Cara couldn’t stop laughing, and her uncle was starting to have trouble holding her up as they reached the doorway. Sandra’s head whipped around, with a smile stretching from ear to ear.

  “Really? Oh, yay!” she yelled just as Josh and Cara sagged to the ground, collapsing in a heap of laughter. “Careful—your tux!” Sandra cautioned, making them laugh even harder.

  On Friday afternoon, Cara spent four hours dress shopping with her mom. It was torture. For dress after dress in three different stores, she checked the mirror. Any of them would be fine. The only plus to the trip was it kept her mind off the confrontation she was headed for at the gala. Every time she stepped out of the changing room, her mom shook her head saying each one was “not quite right,” “too frilly,” “too plain,” or had “something weird here.” She could have been on one of those bridal shows on TV. She hated it.

  At least she had, up until this dress. When she checked the changing room mirror with this one on, she stopped, standing very still to gaze at the reflection. She held her hair up, and she twisted back and forth, twirling around. Her sixteenth birthday was only six weeks away. In this dress, that actually made sense. It didn’t seem so far off anymore. She looked older in the mirror than she normally thought of herself. She remembered thinking the same thing about her reflection in the purple dress the year before, the night at the diner.

  Not him again.

  She shook the memory of the boy in the diner booth from her head and stepped out in the dress. Her mom’s happy clapping and glowing face told her the shopping trip was finally over. Now nothing stood between her and a perfect princess ball. Her body tingled with anticipation even as she wrinkled her nose at the sarcastic thought.

  CHAPTER 13

  Only The Start

  CARA STOOD IN THE ENTRANCE to the conference center on Saturday evening. Ruched gold fabric crisscrossed from her waist, across each shoulder, and back again to her hips. A diamond of bare skin from her shoulder blades to her lower back shivered in the air-conditioned entryway. Her mom had pinned up her hair so a few tendrils hung down the back and sides, tickling her collarbone. She smiled down at her sandals peeking out from under the dark skirt sweeping across her ankles. The gold shoes she’d used for her Halloween costume last year worked perfectly for this dress too.

  They were early since her uncle needed to be there to greet the wealthy donors as they arrived, so she had no fears of running into anyone yet. While Josh’s shiny shoes clicked on the polished floor as he walked over to check on some details, she moved soundlessly into the main ballroom. Purple drapery circled the walls. Each of the pristine white tables glimmered with silverware and sparkling glasses and boasted a towering centerpiece of trailing white orchids.

  She found the table her uncle had indicated and settled with a view of the room. From here, she could watch all the city’s elite as they came out for one of the most glamorous nights of the year. This was like the game she’d played with her mom at the diner, but on steroids. The corners of her mouth twitched up even as the butterflies in her stomach grew more restless.

  By the time she spotted him, she’d lost count of the guests, and a solid din filled the room.

  He stepped into the space with the easy confidence of someone who’d been here all his life and was bored of it. His long form had found new heights in the impeccable tux, and her heart thumped hard enough to lodge itself in her throat as she appreciated how well it fit him. That’s custom—the voice in her mind sounded like Cassidy’s. The hairs on her arms stood at attention while the middle of her chest did the weird little flip again. Reaching for her water glass, she was horrified to feel her hand shaking.

  Stop it, body. This is not why we’re here.

  She forced her eyes away, closing them briefly while she summoned a deep breath and held it. When she looked back, Rhys had melted into the crowd.

  She took a long sip of water, steadying the glass with both hands. Why would someone she hated cause this response? It wasn’t fair. She wanted to feel this way about someone, but not like this, not this someone. Besides, she had a task for tonight, and she needed to focus. Talking to him with her pulse skipping beats was not going to help anything. She decided she would focus on Olivia’s face every time she saw his to remind herself of why she couldn’t like him. All she needed from this night was some answers.

  When the dinner was cleared away and the speeches were done, Cara finally stood. Her uncle was starting his rounds again, and she decided to tag along for a while to see what he did for his work. She set her jaw, pushed her shoulders back, and followed him into the crowd.

  This side of his job turned out to be a lot of schmoozing. He was good at it, though. With his easy manner, he could encourage the guests to start talking about themselves until she thought he was lost in their mundane stories and had forgotten all about his fundraising efforts. Just when she felt like she should nudge him or something, he’d effortlessly bring up the latest project, or the one they’d just finished, or whichever one best fit the person’s interest. She lost track of how many people said they would pledge higher donations, or headed straight to the silent auction tables when they left.

  She kept an eye out the whole time.

  The knowledge that Rhys was here in the room with her somewhere in the crush of people kept the butterflies in her stomach on high alert.

  “How did you get so good at this?” She turned to her uncle when they stepped away from another sparkling couple who had just promised ten thousand dollars.

  “A lot of practice.” He winked at her. “Ah. Come on.” He had spotted someone and started moving again.

  Cara followed her uncle around the dance floor. The crowd was increasing steadily in size as people grew bored of the conversations at their tables and dragged partners out to the middle of the ballroom. Glittering dresses and black tuxedos swirled together. Josh stopped at the back of a tall man.

  “Good evening, Dr.”—the man turned as Josh greeted him. Cara’s mind flashed to an image on Wes’s phone, and her stomach lurched—“Whalton.”

  “Hello, Josh. Great party. And how many times have I told you to call me Randall?”

  He held a crystal glass in one hand, amber liquid shining in the bottom. His broad smile exuded warmth but didn’t fully erase the lines of worry etched around his eyes. This was a man who felt stress and fear on a daily basis, and somehow, Cara doubted it had much to do with operating on people’s brains. She thought of his daughter over at the hospital, and his absent wife, and a pang of sympathy rang through her.

  “Not enough times, apparently. May I introduce my niece, Cara?” Josh turned to her.

  Cara broke from her thoughts to extend a hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Whalton.”

  “The pleasure is mine.” He shook her hand without crushing it.

  Josh launched into his smooth-talking routine, and Cara searched for an escape. Pitchers of water and sparkling glasses lined a table along the wall, and she wandered toward it. She bent to fill a glass and raised it to her lips as she turned back to the room. Her arm bumped the person passing by behind her.

  “Sorry,” she said automatically. Her eyes came up from the glass where the water slopped dangerously close to the rim. Butterflies exploded from her stomach to flutter in her chest.

  The grey-and-gold eyes stayed warm for the first second. Then the face around them clouded over with recognition, and the eyes turned to flat stone.

  “What—” Rhys
stopped.

  They stared at each other for a second. Cara lowered the glass she was holding back to the table. She definitely didn’t need to drop it and cause a scene.

  Fortunately, she’d been right about Rhys not wanting to cause a scene here either. He’d had no hesitation about it back at the hospital, but here, he glanced around before turning back to hiss in an angry whisper. “What are you doing here?”

  She gulped. She focused on a spot just below his distracting eyes and brought up an image of Olivia, with her blank face and limp hair.

  With her purpose fixed in her mind, she started to reply. “Actually, I want to—”

  “Oh, Cara! How nice to see you here.” The voice interrupted them and broke their uneasy staring contest. They both turned. Mr. Jackson, her mom’s boss, marched up to them. “Oh, and young Mr. Whalton. How are you? I had no idea you knew the Ransomes,” he said.

  Rhys looked back at her, his mouth open ever so slightly. The butterflies flew an extra lap, but she turned her face to Mr. Jackson and forced a smile.

  “Nice to see you, too, sir,” she said.

  “So good to see the next generation out here, getting involved.” His large smile bordered on ridiculous, like he’d just said something applause-worthy.

  Rhys still hadn’t spoken, but he took the hand extended to him and shook it.

  “Ah, so sorry, Cara, I’m interrupting you.” Mr. Jackson stepped to the side and began to usher them forward from where they stood. “Don’t let me keep you from the dance floor.”

  Her eyes widened, and she sensed Rhys tense beside her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

  “That’s not necessary,” Rhys said. His smooth, clear voice was back, so unlike the rasp he had used on her.

  “Nonsense. Look at that lot.” Mr. Jackson pointed to the dance floor. “They need some young blood out there. Go on,” he urged. “Cindy, darling.” Mrs. Jackson had found them, and she stepped to her husband’s side. “Come dance. The kids were just heading out. Let’s join them.”