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Authors: P. T. Michelle,Patrice Michelle

Tags: #Young Adult, #Fantasy, #Romance, #Mystery

Brightest Kind of Darkness (8 page)

BOOK: Brightest Kind of Darkness
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Taking in my zip-up jacket, athletic shorts and flops, Aunt Sage said, “Practice huh?”

When I nodded, Bo, who didn’t like being ignored, began to shove his head back and forth, looking for more pats. I set him on the floor and followed Aunt Sage inside. Bo had already scrambled up the cushioned chair to balance on the back and stare through the curtain. Most likely looking for squirrels to hunt. “I swear that dog acts like a cat.”

Aunt Sage patted Luke’s thick jowls, then rubbed Duke’s soft head, the stack of gold bangles on her arm clinking with the rhythmic movement. “And just like a cat, Bo rules the roost in this house.”

“He
thinks
he’s the big dog,” I said when Bo leapt from the top of the chair to dive-bomb Luke, then took off down the hall with the rott in fast pursuit. Ever watchful, Duke lumbered behind them in a slow lope.

“Duke seems to be adjusting well.”

“He’s a sweet dog. He was a bit skittish when I got him home last night, but Bo and Luke took to him right away.” Sage’s tone hardened slightly. “It makes me so angry to see the evidence of his mistreatment.”

“His situation was pretty awful.”

“That was a kind thing you and Ethan did, Inara. Dangerous, but kind. Please don’t do that again. Your mother would have a heart attack.”

Waving her hand like a magic wand whisking the topic away, she said in a lighter tone, “Guess what I have…” as she walked off toward the kitchen.

I sniffed the air and followed her long-legged stride, smiling at the multi-colored dress swirling around her bare feet. You’d never know she had a willowy figure underneath the baggy clothes she preferred to wear. I was built more like my aunt than my mother’s medium, stockier frame, though Aunt Sage was three inches taller than me.

Baked apples and cinnamon floated teasingly in the air the moment I entered the kitchen. “Pie!” I squealed.

Aunt Sage laughed and handed me a napkin before she opened the cabinet and pulled down two mugs. “Coffee?”

When I eyed the napkin, she touched her cheekbone. “War wound from practice?”

I quickly dabbed at my cheek, coming away with a thin streak of blood. I’d forgotten about the tree limb cutting my face. “Yeah.” Forcing a laugh, I tossed it into the trashcan, then pulled out a high-backed wicker chair and sat down at the mosaic table. “Coffee would be awesome.”

While chewing a bite of pie, Aunt Sage paused briefly and pointed her fork. “Don’t tell your mother. She’ll be upset you had dessert before dinner.”

Shoveling the last piece of warm, gooey apple-crusted goodness into my mouth, I mimed an X over my heart.

Aunt Sage winked and picked up our plates. Setting them in the sink, she settled across from me once more as I stirred more milk into my caramel-colored coffee.

“I can tell you’ve got something on your mind. Does it have anything to do with the boy I met last night? He’s an interesting one.”

Her casual comment instantly sidelined my riotous thoughts about the incident in the woods. “What makes you say he’s interesting?”

Aunt Sage looked contemplative. “I’ve never met such an old soul before.”

Ethan definitely came across as mature, and my aunt had always had keen intuition about people. “What do you mean by ‘old soul’?”

“I can’t explain it. He just has a kind of a ‘been there, done that’ vibe about him.”

I stiffened. “I don’t think Ethan has a ‘know it all’ attitude.”

She shook her head, her curls bouncing like a soft, red halo. “That’s not what I meant. Your friend’s power…it’s off the charts. I haven’t experienced that level of energy before, even in people who claim to have been reincarnated and lived several lifetimes.”

My eyes widened and she patted my hand briefly. “It’s nothing to worry about. All I was saying is that Ethan has a fascinating inner strength. It’s amazing to see in someone so young.”

“Yeah, he’s a solid friend.” That part was definitely true. He’d been there for Duke last night, and then he’d saved me tonight. As for the closeness that was developing between us, I wasn’t quite sure what to call it. I just knew that it felt…right. Unlike the rest of my life lately.

I hated feeling so out-of-control. Hated not knowing what was coming. If I’d still had my dreams, I would’ve known Kurt and Jay would try to attack me, and I would’ve left practice when the other girls did.

Even though worry over my aunt’s reaction to my gift still nagged on my conscience, a part of me believed confiding in her at this point was the right thing to do—I needed advice and guidance.

Sage was into tarot, had done a few séances and had gone ghost hunting with her friends. She also maintained a bookcase full of paranormal and New Age books. In a way, my dreams were similar to the divination she sought in her daily tarot readings. Hopefully she’d understand my gift and how I missed the certainty and comfort it brought me.

Wrapping my hands around the coffee mug, I let the warmth soak into my skin. “I know you’re into all this New Age stuff…” I began hesitantly.

She smiled, her hazel green eyes reflecting patience.

“Life’s been kind of crazy lately.”

“Do you want a reading with the cards?” Sage asked, before taking a sip of her coffee.

I shook my head. “A couple weeks ago I could’ve told you my own future, but now…”

Aunt Sage’s calm expression faded. “What did you say?”

“I said I could’ve told you my future, but now I can’t, and it’s really bothering me that I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

She gripped my hand. “Are you telling me you can see the future, Inara?”

I braced myself, surprised by her sudden intensity.
Please don’t let her freak out
. “Um, not exactly. I can just see
my
future, but only what was going to happen one day ahead.”

She frowned slightly. “I thought I sensed something in you, but convinced myself my mind was playing tricks, because you would’ve told me if that were the case.” Guilt gripped me as she squeezed my fingers and her frown smoothed out. “How long have you been able to see ahead, sweetie?”

At least she seemed to believe me and wasn’t freaking out. I withdrew my hand and took a sip of coffee as I considered how much to tell her. Mom would’ve immediately made an appointment with the family doctor and insisted on a psych referral. Elizabeth Collins saw things in black and white, hence the reason my mom was CFO and worked with numbers all day long.

Setting the cup down, I decided to tell her everything. “Since I was seven.”

When she gave a little gasp, I rushed on. “It’s no big deal. It helps with school and stuff.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

Hunching my shoulders, I sighed. “I’m sorry, Aunt Sage. Mom doesn’t know and I don’t plan on telling her (I was
not
telling her Gran knew!). I didn’t say anything to you before, because I felt that if I didn’t have to talk about it, I could pretend I was the same as every other kid.”

She gave a slow nod of understanding, then her brow furrowed. “This gift to see ahead is unusual, Inara. I hope you’re not misusing it.”

“Misusing it?” I hadn’t expected her to take that position about my powers.

“In my studies I’ve learned to respect the balance of nature; the natural give and take.”

Sadie flickered through my mind, but I dismissed the memory. Everything had turned out all right after I’d called in the bomb threat...and Kristin was okay. “I try not to get involved in things, but if I hadn’t acted recently, a lot of people at my school could’ve been hurt.”

Puzzlement crossed her face, then realization dawned. “Are you talking about the bomb threat?”

When I nodded, something close to panic flitted through her eyes. “Would you expect me
not
to act, Aunt Sage? Who knows how many people could’ve been seriously hurt.”
And God, Ethan probably would’ve been killed!
Waving my hand, I continued, “That was an unusual circumstance. Mostly my gift just makes it easier to deal with life stuff. But the reason I’m telling you now is because I stopped having my dreams a couple weeks ago—that’s how I see my next day, in my dreams the night before—and I’ve only had them twice since. Do you think you could help me get them back?”

Aunt Sage looked like she was processing several things at once as she absently stroked the teardrop crystal hanging on her necklace. “When you lost your dreams the first time, had anything in your life changed prior to that?”

You mean like calling in a bomb threat? Screwing up in soccer and having problems talking to my best friend? Oh, and I met Ethan
. I shook my head. “No, it’s been pretty much the same ‘ole, same ‘ole.”

“Did you hit your head, maybe while playing soccer?

“No. My dreams just stopped. What’s weird is that now that I don’t have my dreams, I don’t dream at all. I’d really, really like them back.”

Her hand paused over the necklace. “Is there something else, Inara?”

Her assessing look reminded me that there was more to my aunt than the “free love” persona she projected. She’d made a killing with an internet-based business, and then shrewd investing later that had funded her jewelry business. “I’d just rather know about stuff ahead of time, so I can get back to my old self. That’s all.”

Aunt Sage pursed her lips. “Mmmm, hmmm. I think you’re not telling me everything, but for now I’ll do some research to see if I can help you get your dreams back. It could be some kind of mental block. Maybe your body just needs a good cleansing.”

I hadn’t thought that a mental block could’ve caused my dreams to flicker in and out, but it was possible the whole bomb incident had messed with me more than I realized. It felt good to finally share my secret with my aunt. And if I did finally get my dreams back, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally mentioning her tarot reading before she’d had a chance to tell me about it. There’d been a few close calls in the past.

* * *

Later that night, while taking a shower, I’d just lathered the soap bubbles on my face when a sharp pain radiated across my cheek. Wincing, I moved my hands to avoid my forgotten wound, when a sudden realization made my heart do a crazy staccato dance. Ethan hadn’t just been kissing my cheek, he’d kissed my wound.

Holding onto that bone-melting thought, I quickly finished my shower and crawled into bed early. As I lay in the dark, I relived the sensation of Ethan’s warm hands on my face, his soft lips on my skin and his hard chest pressed against mine as he held me close, over and over.

I’d been kissed by boys before, even had a boyfriend for a whole week when I was fourteen, but Ethan’s kiss didn’t feel like the fast spin to thrillsville guys had taken me on in the past. It felt like a road trip; a journey to somewhere entirely different. Somewhere solid and real.

Why had I let my own fears keep me from hugging him back? Everything about him intrigued me. I was falling deeper and deeper for this guy, which made me a little anxious. I knew so little about him. That had to change.

Chapter Eight

The next morning, as I passed from one class to the next, I felt compelled to scan the crowds in the hallways, looking for Kurt and Jay. I must’ve held and released my breath a hundred times before I finally spotted each guy. Even though they’d both intentionally turned their swollen and bruised faces away when I passed them at separate times in the hall (I wasn’t exactly thrilled to see them either), I was relieved neither was having to use a wheelchair or crutches to get around school.

Gossip flew around that they’d gotten into a knock-down, drag-out fight with each other. Considering I saw them pass one another in the hall later and neither said a word or acknowledged the other guy, I could see why people believed that was the case.

When I saw Ethan’s dark head weaving in and out of the students crowding the locker hallway after lunch, I mentally psyched myself up for the challenge.
I will get to know him better today.

I’d worn a v-neck emerald green sweater with faded jeans and my ankle boots. Wearing a sweater of any kind lately tripped my
argh my clothes won’t stop sticking to me
comfort meter. Today was no different. Static city. But I knew this sweater looked best with my eyes. Mascara was normally my only makeup, but today I’d added a bit of eyeliner before I took the time to flip the ends of my hair out. Dealing with the curling iron in the morning usually got on my nerves, but at least my extra efforts seemed to have paid off. A couple of the football players had raised their eyebrows and whistled as I walked past. I’d waved, but didn’t stop to talk. I was on a mission.

When Ethan approached, I leaned against his locker. Instead of being surprised by my bold move, his dark blue eyes softened. “You okay?” he asked, grazing his knuckles across my cheekbone near my wound.

“I’m fine.” My voice cracked and my skin electrified where he’d touched me. I nearly forgot my goal—that “getting to know him better” vow I’d made—but I forced myself to focus. “I saw my aunt last night. Duke’s doing great.”

Ethan looked pleased. “I’m glad. Thanks for finding him a good home.”

I smiled and my fingers flexed, crinkling the paper in my hand. “Oh, by the way,” I handed him the note. “Here’s what you missed in History yesterday.”

As he glanced down at the paper, I rambled, “We were paired up to work on a paper about war. Since you weren’t there, I volunteered to be your partner.”

His gaze met mine. “Partners, huh?”

“We study together anyway.” I hoped I sounded casual. “The paper can be on any aspect of war. We should probably meet in the library today during study hall time.”

Ethan’s eyebrows shot up as he moved his book and notepad from one hand to the other. “The library?”

“The project’s not due for a while, but I thought maybe we’d see if the school library has anything useful.” My heart pounded harder as I continued, “Oh, and I wrote my cell on that paper. What’s yours?”

“I don’t have one.”

He looked slightly amused, but I wasn’t sure if it was because I seemed to be taking over our project or that I’d just asked him for his phone number. “You don’t have a cell?”
Who doesn’t have a cell phone nowadays?

He shrugged. “I don’t like being that easy to track down.”

I guess not carrying a cell jived with his loner personality, but it left me feeling four steps behind his long-legged stride without a way to catch up. How was I supposed to do that when texting and chatting on my cell were my lifeline? Finally my stalled brain kicked in. “Um, okay. You have a landline phone, right?”

When he smirked and nodded, I felt stupid for asking. “Why don’t you call me if you miss class and want your homework assignments and stuff.”

“Deal.” Just then, the bell rang and the noise in the hall shot up. Leaning close, his lips brushed my ear. “See you in the library.”

* * *

I was standing between two tall bookshelves in the library, scanning through the books on a shelf when Ethan’s delicious smell wrapped around me.

“Hmm, somehow I don’t think graphic novels are the teacher’s idea of appropriate source material,” he said in a low tone.

Grabbing a slim volume called
The Demon’s Lair
, I flipped it open, then turned to face him. “I was just killing time until you got here.” I tilted the book so he could see the colorful, graphic pictures of a demon fighting a two-tailed scorpion. “You ever read these?”

Ethan’s focus locked on the pages long enough that I hoped he’d tell me about the horned creature I’d seen in his notebook. “Nope. I read fantasy books by Salvatore, Jordan and Brooks.”

Didn’t fantasy books have otherworldly creatures in them?
Maybe he created drawings based on figures he’d read about. Sounded logical. I glanced at the demon locked in battle with another equally hideous monster. “There’s some great detail in this artwork.”

Ethan put his hand on the bookshelf above me and stepped closer, flattening the book against my chest. “Nara, if you have something to ask me, just ask.”

What would he say if I asked him about his drawings? Would he push me away because I’d asked something too personal?

“I—” I dropped my gaze to the book and slowly shut it. “No, nothing to ask.”

He caught my chin and made me meet his gaze. “You’re going to ignore all those nasty rumors about my drawings, the stories that I was expelled from my last school, and the dangerous friends I have without a single question?”

How did he know what I was thinking, the things I wanted to ask, but didn’t? I was so blown away, I answered honestly. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

His gaze narrowed slightly as he slowly traced his finger down the side of my neck. “Why?”

Everything inside me warmed and jumped to life when he touched my skin. I closed my eyes as goose bumps scattered across my body, electrifying every nerve ending. “Because we all have secrets,” I admitted before locking gazes once more. “Our friendship is all that matters to me.”

Interest reflected in his steady stare. His finger had stopped on the pulse beating along my throat. “If I asked you your secret, would you tell me?”

My heart rate jumped and I looked away. I didn’t want to lose Ethan. The agony I’d feel if he walked away from our friendship told me just how much I’d fallen for him; a boy I didn’t know.

Our librarian, Mrs. Honeycutt, walked past, her Q-tip French twist whipping around in a double-take. She waved a finger at us, disapproval reflected behind the half-moon glasses perched on her nose. Ethan stepped away and the connection between us, the magnetic attraction that had drawn us closer, faded.

Shoving the graphic novel back on the bookshelf, I cleared my throat. “So, wars…”

Ethan searched my face for a moment, then nodded toward the windows at the back of the library. “Right. I think the history books are over there.”

* * *

That afternoon, as I was walking out to my car, a sandy-haired guy, who’d been walking straight ahead of me, began to drift to the right. I eyed him like a car that’s starting to drift into my lane and immediately sped up.

Just as I was about to pass him, he stumbled and rammed into me.

“Ow!” I grabbed my shoulder. “Are you whacked?”

“Sorry.” Rubbing his forehead, he blinked as if trying to focus. “I have vertigo. When it hits, it makes me so dizzy, I can barely walk.”

And I’ll be driving on the same road with this guy?
“You’re uh, not driving, are you?”

“Nah, I’ve been banned until it clears up. Hitching a ride with my neighbor—”

“In this lifetime, Alan!” a guy impatiently called from across the lot.

“I’m coming,” he waved to his neighbor, then slowly turned back to me with a rueful grimace. “Can’t jerk my head around too fast or I’ll pass out. Anyway, sorry again.”

“No worries.”

As I watched him stagger toward his friend’s car, my gaze snagged on Sophia talking to Jared by his Jeep. I started toward my car and tried not to look obvious that I was watching them through my shades, but seeing Sophia giggling while digging her hand into Jared’s front pocket made me halt in disbelief.

Jared was talking and kind of laughing, so I couldn’t tell if he was enjoying her flirting or if he was nervous and uncomfortable and trying to laugh it off. A car beeped behind me, and I quickly moved out of the way, continuing on to my car.

I’d just unlocked my door when I looked up to see Sophia staring at me from across the lot. Jared was nowhere in sight. I lowered my glasses and stared hard to let her know I’d seen her with Jared. Her eyes narrowed for a brief second, then her lips curved in a mocking, victorious smile before she got in her car and drove off.

I tried to call Lainey, but got her voicemail, so I sent her a text.

Call me. I need to talk to you
.

I didn’t hear back from her until a couple hours later, when I was on my way to our game. Grabbing my cell from my bag, I said, “Hey, are you at the field yet?”

A radio blared in the background. “I’m getting ready to turn into the parking lot. What’s up?”

I pushed the cell phone closer to my ear. “I just wanted to warn you to keep an eye out for Sophia.”

“Sophia? Why?”

I swallowed, not wanting to hurt my friend. She was the happiest I’d seen her. Ever since I’d known Lainey she was a pretty upbeat person, but now she just seemed to glow whenever she was around Jared. She’d spent less time spreading gossip and more time just hanging with him.

“I saw her talking to Jared in the parking lot. Let’s just say it looked pretty friendly between them.” I really didn’t want to tell Lainey that Sophia had her hand in Jared’s pants’ pocket. That would
not
go over well…and I wasn’t exactly positive he hadn’t done something goofy like steal her car keys and shove them in his pants, saying, “If you want your keys, you’ll have to get them yourself.” Guys did crude stuff all the time for attention. But I couldn’t quit thinking about the way Sophia stared at me in the parking lot earlier; her smile pretty much said, “I dare you to tell”.

Lainey didn’t say anything for a second, then she snapped, “I didn’t want to believe she was right. Sophia
told
me you’d try to do something like this.”

I pulled in a parking spot, then slammed on my breaks harder than I’d meant to. “Try to do something like what?”

“She warned me that you’d try to break Jared and me up. Actually, her exact words were, ‘You should’ve seen Nara’s face when I told her about you and Jared. Mark my words, she’ll try to break you two up so she can have him.’ And then, today, she called and told me you seemed to have it in for Jared.” A sniff came across the line. “I was your friend, Nara. I supported you over the whole goalie thing. I even tried to look out for you with that Ethan guy, and this is the thanks I get? Why would you try to make my boyfriend out to be a cheating jerk?”

I couldn’t believe she thought I’d try to break them up. I opened my mouth to tell her exactly what went on between Sophia and Jared, but she probably wouldn’t believe me now anyway. Plus, I just felt she should believe her
best friend
over a teammate. I was right. Lainey had moved so far away from our friendship, she’d allowed Sophia to stir her into her cauldron of lies. I tried to keep my voice calm. “Do you really believe that?”

Lainey’s voice hardened. “Now, I do.”

How had Sophia manipulated Lainey so easily? It made me wonder if our friendship had ever been real. “When have I
ever
lied to you?” When she didn’t answer right away, I continued, “If you choose to believe Sophia over me, then that’s your issue.” After I hung up, I was so angry and resentful, I stayed in my car until my hands stopped shaking.

That night, despite my argument with Lainey, I’d played well and only let one ball get past. We won our game against Southern, and hallelujah, I’d done it all on my own (well, with Ethan’s practice help and encouragement)!

During the game, Sophia and Miranda did their standard “whisper, then glance my way” snicker sessions whenever they got near each other. Lainey didn’t speak to me before or after the game. She alternated between slumping her shoulders and holding her chin high. I couldn’t tell if she was mad at me or just hurt. I didn’t know what to do, but as long as she continued to believe Sophia, she wasn’t going to listen to me anyway.

Several girls invited me to a party on Friday night to celebrate, but I couldn’t muster the enthusiasm over the win or the realization that I seemed to have moved off the “Do Not Invite” list. My mom hadn’t been there, and not that Ethan
had
to come, but after helping me practice this week, the close call last night, and then the “moment” we’d had in the library, I’d secretly hoped he would be in the crowd, cheering me on. Then again, I hadn’t answered his question, which probably made him feel like I didn’t trust him, even though I did. In so many ways. Just not with this one secret.

As I drove home, my cell phone pinged, letting me know I had a message. Once I’d put all my dirty soccer clothes into the laundry and started the machine, I grabbed my cell and opened the message, expecting a text from my mom.

The text was nothing but garbled letters and numbers. I closed the message and reopened it and my heart nearly stopped.

Please respond to this text, Nari. We need to talk
.

I couldn’t turn my phone off fast enough. My legs began to wobble and I slowly sank to the hall floor. Leaning against the washing machine in my sports bra and underwear, I couldn’t believe it.

Only
one
person called me Nari.

Why was my dad texting me?

BOOK: Brightest Kind of Darkness
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