“Pardon me for not walking away from a man’s cry for help!”
A taxi pulled up twenty feet ahead, on the street corner, and honked once, the driver persistently looking at Wade.
“Just…” He closed his eyes for a second, pressing his lips tight, as he carefully chose his next words. “Just think about it. And whether your answer will be yes or no, call me. You have twenty-four hours.”
“What if I say no?”
“Harley. Just think about it before we continue this conversation,” Wade said, then collected the duffel bag from the back of his Jeep and got in the cab. The engine roared to life, and the car joined the thin traffic stream on the main road, leaving me behind with a ton of questions and no reasonable explanation as to why the parking lot fence had been destroyed.
“Crap,” I cursed under my breath, then nervously looked around. There were no cameras covering that corner of the parking lot.
I checked my watch. A quarter past midnight. I had maybe five minutes to get out of here before Malcolm and the others emerged from the casino.
I grabbed my keys and clutch from where I’d dropped them and slipped behind the wheel. I got out of there and drove straight home, my hands clutching the wheel so hard my knuckles turned white.
It was bad enough that everything I’d thought I knew about myself had been twisted and reshuffled to the point where I could barely think straight. I was being asked to join a coven I knew nothing about. I’d just witnessed a monster trying to kill an innocent guy, then the innocent guy getting his memory wiped by a dude whose sheer presence made the air around me feel heavier.
The streetlights flickered past me in shades of orange as I stared at the road ahead and wondered what to do. The events of the night kept replaying in my head, and I made mental notes of the key moments. At least I knew what I was…
“After all these years,” I muttered as I reached my apartment and locked the door behind me. A heavy sigh rolled out of me, and I walked over to the living room area, dropping Wade’s business card on the coffee table next to a pile of magazines.
As much as I disliked the thought, Wade was right. I could at least think about it before deciding anything. Sleeping on it sounded like a good idea, until my stomach reminded me that I’d barely eaten throughout the day.
I headed over to the fridge, where two slices of pizza awaited, next to a can of Coke. I scarfed down my leftover dinner, while standing in the dark and staring out the windows.
What was it that I wanted for myself? Where was my life headed?
Most importantly, what could I get out of that coven, and what did they want from me?
Chapter Five
I woke up the next day from a variety of absolutely mind-boggling and downright weird nightmares. The strangest creatures snuck into my subconscious somehow, from the gargoyle I’d seen the night before to fiendish beasts with serpent tails, wings, and fangs that seemed eager to tear me to shreds. Big, round yellow eyes haunted me wherever I went. Shadows hissed behind me, and whenever I turned around, there was nothing but darkness until monstrous shapes formed and I ended up running, desperate to save myself.
The sun was out, peeking through the wooden blinds of my bedroom windows. I was covered in sweat, my t-shirt drenched and stuck to my skin, shivers running down my spine. My heartrate was accelerated, my breathing uneven, as I tried to remember the ghoulish faces I’d seen in my nightmares.
It didn’t take long for me to realize that it all had something to do with Wade Crowley and the events I’d witnessed in his presence. The image of that gargoyle hounded me well into breakfast, which consisted of coffee and a couple of slices of toast—anything else would’ve made me hurl—as I shuffled around the house in a permanent state of queasiness.
My instincts screamed at me to stay away from Wade and the coven, along with whatever pledging allegiance to them entailed. Sure, I was grateful to at least know what I was after all these years, but joining a coven was the last thing I wanted to do right now. I liked my freedom too much, and I’d gone through a lot of crap to get it.
I fished my father’s note out of my wallet, sipping my coffee as I read it twenty times over.
Stay safe. Stay smart.
Maybe my parents knew something. Maybe my dad wanted me to stay safe from such organizations. I’d seen plenty of witch movies, and I’d read about the Salem witch trials when I was still in high school. Needless to say, the literature on the subject wasn’t exactly encouraging.
After a couple of hours and a hot shower, I took Wade’s business card from the coffee table and tossed it into the trashcan. It was all too creepy and unknown, and my stomach seemed to loosen up a little as soon as the card landed on a pile of torn-up pizza boxes. I was better off alone.
My phone buzzed with a text, and I glanced at the sender: Ryann Smith. Part of me had expected it to be from Wade, given his stalkerish tendencies, like how he’d known my name, but I was relieved to see my foster sister’s name on the screen instead. Her text read, “Coffee at St. Clair’s Café in 20?” I responded with a resounding “Yes!” The distraction would be nice. Plus, I had errands to run near her house—our parents’ house, I should say—and I figured it would be a good time to catch up. Not that I could tell her about the whole bucket of weird I’d been dealing with, but she was a familiar, friendly face and had this way of soothing me like no one else could.
When I got to the café, Ryann was already there, waiting patiently beneath the signature red awning. Standing one head shorter than me, with long brown hair and gray-blue eyes, she was the all-American sweetheart. Class president and valedictorian with numerous debate trophies and one too many pantsuits for her young age, Ryann had dreams of one day becoming president. Until then, however, she was prepping for a bountiful career in law, followed by a seat in the Senate. The girl was extremely ambitious and was my best link to normalcy on this earth.
“Mom’s asking if you want to come with us to Maui this summer,” Ryann said, smiling as we sat down at one of the small, round tables outside. I hadn’t seen her in a couple of weeks, but, every other weekend, Ryann made her way down to San Diego from UCLA. My heart filled with pride whenever I saw her—everything she’d set out to accomplish, she did, sooner or later. “One week, all-inclusive. They’ll cover the hotel; you just need to pay for your flight,” she continued. “I’m thinking fruity drinks, orchid garlands, gorgeous boys on the beach, and, of course, basking in the sun. You can’t say no to that.”
“It’d be stupid of me to refuse!” I beamed, deeply touched that Mr. and Mrs. Smith were so keen to spend time with me.
Out of all my foster families, the Smiths were the best—sweet and kind people who loved me like I was their own… like I was Ryann. I made a mental note to pay them a visit by the end of the month, and bring along a basket of Mrs. Smith’s favorite baked goods. If you wanted her on your good side, all you needed were raisin scones and banana walnut bread.
“We’re thinking end of August,” Ryann replied, adding sugar to her latte. “Mom has these wonderful vacation package offers from her travel agent. We had to vote on where to go, in the first place! Dad wanted Peru, but Mom and I convinced him to do Maui now, then look at Peru, maybe for the next spring.”
“End of August sounds good.” I cradled my warm cup of black coffee in my hands, pleased to take in all the positive energies coming from Ryann. She was fond of me, and I could feel it. I wished I could tell her just how wonderful she felt to me, but I’d already decided to keep my abilities a secret from her. Ryann was better off not knowing—for her own safety, in case anyone in a black suit with a badge came after me. “I’ll have a look at flights as soon as you guys decide on some dates. And I’ll pop by the house sometime next week. I owe your mom a major hug.”
“And scones.” Ryann chuckled.
“Wouldn’t dream of showing up without some,” I replied, and we both laughed lightly. “How’ve you been, anyway? How’s college treating you?”
“You know, it’s even harder than I’d anticipated. But, hey, pretty sure that’s the textbook definition of adulthood.” She grinned, then sighed a little. “It’s exhausting, and I don’t get much time for social stuff, but it’s okay. They say the first year is the toughest, just until you get used to the rigor and deadlines. Honestly, I’m loving every bit of it, and I’m so lucky that my parents actually saved up for this. Wish we were there together, though.”
She turned sad as she said that, wringing my heart around. I covered her hand with mine and squeezed gently. “We both know I’m not law school material,” I replied, smiling gently. “They’d kick me out of pre-law before the semester was over.”
“Have you decided, though? I mean, on what you want to do? I understand the whole gap year thing. It’s a wise choice and all, but it’s already spring. Application deadlines end in July, if you’re doing rolling admission,” Ryann said, frowning slightly. I could tell that she was worried for my future, and I really didn’t want her to clutter her mind with my inability to make a decision.
Frankly, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I had these abilities that forced me to keep a low profile, given the fact that I was still learning to control them. College life didn’t sound “safe and smart,” as my emotions were still quite volatile and had a direct impact on my telekinesis, in particular. Not to mention the accidental fires, the sudden earthquakes, and the bathroom floods. Whenever I was distressed, my relationship with the natural elements suffered, and there were only so many excuses I could use before people started looking at me funny.
“Not yet.” I gave her a faded smile. “It’ll come to me soon enough! I’m stuck between anthropology and law enforcement. It’s better than the ideas I had last fall, I guess.”
“Last fall.” Ryann narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips as she tried to remember. “Ah, yes. Psychology, right?”