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Fearless
Copyright © 2012 by Tawdra Kandle
Published by Hayson Publishing
Palm Coast, FL
ISBN-13:
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Preview of Breathless
In memory of my parents,
Robert and Jeanne Thompson.
And with gratitude and thanks to my family,
Clint, Devyn, Haley, Catie, David, Greg,
Robyn, Chris, Sean and Kaden.
All of whom taught me how to be…
New girl. She doesn’t belong here. Doesn’t fit in here. Not one of us.
I jerked my head toward the sound of the voice before I realized that no one was speaking aloud. None of the students in the Chemistry classroom were paying any attention to me, the new girl, standing up front at the teacher’s desk waiting for a textbook and a seat assignment.
I bit my lip and kept my eyes glued to the floor. This wasn’t the first time I’d mistaken someone’s thoughts for spoken words. Sometimes the voice was so clear in my head that I could swear I actually heard it, just another benefit to my particular talent.
I wondered which of my new classmates was already thinking about me in such glowing terms. I’d had more than my share of first days at new schools. I was used to the gamut of reactions, from warm welcome to a sort of benign neglect, but I hadn’t had anyone hate me right from the beginning. Until today.
Before I could begin to brood in earnest, the teacher handed over a thick hard cover book and looked at me appraisingly.
“Tasmyn...” She pronounced my name very exotically, and with more of a z sound than the softer s that I used. I detected a slight accent in her words. “Very different. And quite lovely.” She gazed at me with frank curiosity. “May I ask what your science background is?”
What was this, an interview? Did I have to qualify for this class?
“I took Physical Science when I was a freshman, and Biology last year,” I answered. “And actually, it’s Tasmyn. Rhymes with... has-been,” I added with a self-conscious laugh, shifting from one foot to another and wishing I was anywhere but here.
Ms. Lacusta stood, and I saw that she was shorter than me by several inches. She couldn’t have been much more than thirty-five or so; her jet black hair was long and curling, offsetting nearly translucent skin and flashing dark eyes. She wore a white lab coat over black cotton pants and a flowing turquoise shirt.
She examined me in silence for a moment and then nodded. “Fine, Tasmyn. You probably won’t have any difficulty with this class, then.” Her eyes scanned the classroom briefly, and I knew she was looking for a place to seat me. “Why don’t you join Liza at her table? She’s in need of a lab partner. Right there, behind Nell and Casey.” She gestured to an empty seat on the left side of the room.
Liza was a cool blonde, with lightly tanned skin and blue eyes. As I approached the table, she looked at me with cursory interest before turning back to the conversation she was having with the girls in front of us. Perfectly manicured fingernails tapped absently on her open notebook as she listened to the other two girls.
They were both turned slightly in their seats, facing our desk. Casey had light auburn hair, cropped short around her small face. She was very animated, and as she spoke in a low voice, her hands never stopped moving.
In contrast, her lab partner—I thought her name was Nell—sat quite still. She was about my own height, with hair nearly as dark as our teacher’s. It was long and waved about her shoulders. Her complexion was olive-toned, and her eyes were a very pale blue. The striking differences in her hair, skin and eye color were startling enough to be attractive. She appeared to be listening to the other girls, but I noticed that her eyes slid to me speculatively for a moment.
I sat down next to Liza and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Glancing around the room, I noticed with a little bit of surprise that most of the students were girls. There were only two boys, sitting in the back. This was an upper level Chemistry course; I would’ve expected it to be a little more testosterone heavy.
First day jitters made it harder for me to maintain my mental block. I struggled to keep out the floating thoughts in the room by focusing on the front of my new textbook; filling my mind with anything else, concentrating hard, sometimes helped me mute the voices. It wasn’t working at the moment.
Hope she doesn’t call on me… didn’t get that homework… look at Casey’s shoes, wish I could buy stuff like that… don’t care what anyone says, she’s weird… who wants to be in that stupid chemistry club anyway… meeting at the clearing tonight, what will she teach us?
A blood sacrifice. It has to be a blood sacrifice.
A chill ran down my back, and I scanned the room in alarm. A blood sacrifice? Someone had actually been thinking that? It was impossible for me to tell whose thought it was since I didn’t know anyone yet. Sometimes I could zero in if I were concentrating on a particular person or familiar enough with a mind—like my parents. It was easy to recognize their thinking after seventeen years of hearing it—or trying not to hear it. But here it could have been anyone.
My palms were damp, and I forced my hands open, rubbing them against my jeans. There had been malice in that thought, a palpable cruelty. I usually picked up on emotions and feelings even more e
asily than I did on thoughts, and the evil I perceived now was chilling.
At the front of the room, Ms. Lacusta began her lecture. The girls in front of me turned around, and next to me, Liza busied herself with finding a pencil. I tried to steady my own hand as I got ready to take notes, and the minds in the room receded to a steady hum.
It had to be a mistake. Or a misunderstanding. There must be a perfectly good reason why one of my new classmates was considering a blood sacrifice.
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