Perfect Pitch (The Chameleon Effect Book 2)

by Alex Hayes

I speed up to keep from losing them. Ahead, the vehicle turns into a parking lot and swings around the rear of a building, I pull to the edge of the road and snap off my headlights.

  I’m out of the Subaru in time to hear the BMW’s engine cut. A quick look around confirms there’s only me out here and whoever’s in that vehicle.

  The moon offers enough light in the open, but the shadows are another story. I don’t want to alert Cadi by using my phone light, so I head down the sidewalk and pass through the wide entrance the Beemer used.

  The building before me sits in total darkness. I follow the path of the vehicle and trip over something, saving myself, narrowly. Holding back a curse, I listen for sounds to suggest they heard me.

  Soft voices slip through the quiet and the jingle of Cadi’s laugh, loose and comfortable. My eyes narrow and I creep forward.

  “Nah, let’s go straight there,” says a voice I don’t recognize. A guy’s voice.

  Rustling of leaves alerts me to the fact that, rather than enter the building, they’ve climbed the embankment at the edge of the lot and headed into the woods.

  I should stop right now. Let her go. But I can’t. I have to know who this guy is.

  Their chatter allows me to track them, and the crackle and crunch of twigs and leaves under their feet cover my own not-so-silent footfalls.

  “You wanna change,” the guy says.

  After a pause, she answers, “Better not. It’s only been twenty-four hours and you know what Mr. Scrim said.”

  The guy sighs. “Yeah, it’s just a pain in the ass to see in the dark this way.”

  What the hell are they talking about?

  She giggles. “But more of an adventure, maybe?”

  I don’t hear his murmured reply.

  After a nightmare hike that leaves me scratched and bruised from a hundred collisions with the copious undergrowth, the forest opens to a moonlit oasis. Trees thin to a pale shore surrounding an inky lake flecked with white reflections from the half-moon.

  Their voices carry.

  “So you want me to walk all the way across?” Cadi’s voice quivers with laughter. Her silhouette wavers as she steps over the stony shore. The guy follows. He’s more steady on his feet and comes to her rescue more than once when she loses her balance.

  More giggles and I find myself smiling. This is the Cadi I wish I’d gotten to know. The girl I sensed was inside the first time I saw her. The girl I watched for weeks from afar. Dreamed about. Fell in love with.

  A sigh slips out. That was months ago. Contemplating what could have been is stupid.

  So what am I doing here? Spying on her?

  “Okay, go ahead,” the guy says.

  I squint through the darkness as Cadi steps into the water. Another step, but waves don’t wrinkle the thread of moonlight shining across the lake. It remains unchanged.

  Another step. Another. And Cadi’s standing a good two yards out. Not in the water, but on it. Like the surface is a sheet of glass, holding her up.

  My jaw slackens, then I remember her telekinesis. Apparently, there’s a lot more she can do than tossing ping pong balls and shifting tractors.

  I step around the edge of a juniper for a better view of her antics. A branch snaps underfoot.

  The guy’s silhouette jolts at the sound and he twists in my direction.

  I freeze.

  Cadi screams, “Idris!” and her shape disappears under the water.

  19

  Cadi

  The glassy surface of the water shivers and turns liquid.

  And I’m falling. “Idris!”

  I take a breath as the water closes around me. It’s freezing compared to the summery evening air. I kick and swim back to the surface, jeans and sneakers saturated and pulling on my legs.

  Panic makes me shape shift into my lizard form. Lungs and thigh muscles expand and make fighting the added weight of my sodden clothes easier.

  Why didn’t I think to take my shoes off before walking out across the water? Probably because I was confident Idris wouldn’t let me fall.

  What the heck happened?

  “Cadi?” A loud splash follows Idris’s shout. His smooth scaly head pops out of the water in front of me. “Are you okay?”

  I tread water and watch the moonlight glint off the ridges of his head. “What happened?” I ask, when we’re nose to nose.

  Embarrassment radiates off him. “I heard something in the trees and got distracted. I’m sorry.”

  I laugh. “It’s okay. But next time, remind me to undress first.”

  He chuckles. “I stripped before I jumped in. You can borrow my shirt.”

  We swim until our toes touch the silty lake bottom, then stand and walk to the shore.

  Idris grabs my hand. “Hey, Cadi. Check this out.”

  He turns me to face the lake. The rush of churning water fills my ears, then a jet squirts skyward. The stream splits into a Y, then curls over to meet itself at the center forming a perfect heart that sparkles in the moonlight.

  “Oh, Idris. It’s beautiful!” I cry, and give him a soggy hug.

  He laughs and kisses my wet forehead, then guides me to where his clothes lie in a heap.

  I strip down to my underwear.

  He drops his boxers.

  “Idris!” I gasp, transforming back to human.

  He stands before me, stark naked and completely irresistible.

  As I walk across my bedroom, morning sunlight catches the diamond facets in my ring, sending points of light scattering over the wall.

  I draw a snaky silver chain from the maple jewelry box Dean gave me last Christmas. My crystal used to hang from this chain, until the stone fused into my chest. The metal feels cool and silky, like Livran scales. I tug off my engagement ring and slide it onto the chain, then latch the pendant around my neck and watch the emerald disappear behind my snug gray T-shirt.

  A smile pinches my lips as I recall last night’s unexpected dip in the water and everything that followed on the lakeshore afterward. I managed to stay human, though it hadn’t been easy.

  Having dragged out my morning ritual, I head downstairs hoping Dean and Shri will be done with breakfast by now.

  No such luck.

  “Morning.” My gaze skims over Shri and Dean.

  “Hey,” Shri answers, while Dean’s shoulders stiffen and his cheeks turn red.

  He must still be mad at me after our conversation yesterday morning.

  Struggling with a yawn, I catch Mama’s knowing look and hold back my smile. Yeah, I’m usually tired after an evening spent with Idris.

  “I’m making mushroom tortellini for dinner tonight,” she says, as I reach into a kitchen cabinet for a glass. “Idris’s favorite.” I freeze. “Why don’t you ask him over?”

  “Uh, sure,” I mumble into the cupboard.

  Silence overtakes the kitchen. Or am I imagining it?

  Chairs scrape the tiled floor behind me, dishes clatter into the sink.

  “Leave those, dear,” Mama says to Shri as I close the cabinet door. “I’ll take care of them.”

  Shri voices her thanks, and when I look around, both she and Dean are gone.

  I let out a silent sigh of relief.

  When I’m done eating, Mama sends me to the root cellar for mushrooms.

  On my way to the barn, Shri catches up to me. “So who’s Idris?”

  “A, um… friend.” I pull on the barn door.

  Why am I afraid to tell Shri who he is?

  Right, because she’s friends with Dean and will probably tell him everything I say. And Dean? He’s way too inquisitive.

  Idris isn’t just my boyfriend; he’s my everything—my past, present and future. And I’m afraid if Dean meets him, the whole truth will be exposed.

  Shri follows me inside. “Friend, huh? The one who’s been picking you up late at night.”

  I swing around to face her. “Have you been spying on me?”

  She grins. “Heard the car engine more than onc
e, and my bedroom window faces the front.”

  So does Dean’s. Crud. Does that mean he’s been spying on me too?

  “Just a friend, then?” Shri presses.

  “Okay. Maybe a bit more than a friend.”

  Her smile widens. “I can’t wait to meet him.” She studies me for a long moment. “So why the secret?”

  I bite my lip. “Because I’m trying to keep my private life private from… certain people.”

  Shri’s head bobs slowly. “And why would that be, exactly?”

  “Why do you think?” I kick the bulkhead door with more ferocity than intended, leaving a scuff mark on the paint.

  “It’s not like Dean’s going to announce to the world that you’re dating, or that anyone’s going to care. High school’s over, Cadi.” Shri sighs. “And Dean turned out to be one of the good guys. If you’d stayed, you’d have seen that for yourself. You wouldn’t believe the shit he put up with after he stood up to Jake. He was one hell of a hero.”

  I harrumph. “Then let him be your hero.”

  Shri straightens and crosses her arms. “Aside from my dad, he’s the most admirable person I know. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like dirt.”

  The bulkhead door comes free, sending me staggering. “I never treated him like dirt.”

  “As good as,” she counters.

  My jaw tightens. “So what do you want me to do? Shed every thread of detail about myself till I’m standing naked in front of him?”

  Shri shouts out a laugh.

  “What?” I demand.

  “Visualizing what you just said.” She shakes her head. “Cadi, you don’t have to tell him everything. All you have to do is let him in. It doesn’t matter how much or how little. Just stop treating him like he’s an alien holding a death ray to your head.”

  The reality of what she just said hits me. Dean. An alien. If Shri only knew. I fight off a chuckle, but my smile can’t be hidden. “Okay. Okay. Starting tonight, I’ll try to be more open.”

  When she’s gone, I text Idris to invite him over.

  So this Dean guy’s gonna be there? he inquires.

  A small shudder runs through me. Yeah, guess it’s time you 2 met.

  And Shri? he texts back.

  Yeah, she’ll be here 2. Oh, can you bring your spare guitar?

  Sing along?

  I type back, 4 someone to borrow… I might jump you if you sing.

  Can’t wait!!!

  I shake my head. Funny. See you @ 6?

  I’ll be there.

  Ugh. But I’m not sure I want to be.

  20

  Dean

  My phone vibrates in my back pocket.

  Another text from Mom. Bring Ty home by Sunday or face the consequences.

  Her messages have become more succinct. I haven’t responded to any over the last two days. Mom might call the police. Maybe she already has. A risk I have to take. I’m waiting for her message saying Dad’s gone because I won’t take Ty home until that happens.

  I’m sitting on my bed, speed-reading To the Power of I, since Brandon Williams’ book signing is tomorrow, when I hear the smooth purr of an engine through the open window.

  Ty looks up from his adventure novel. “Cadi’s boyfriend?”

  Hearing those words makes me cringe.

  After Cadi fell into the lake, I crept away, the second I knew she was okay. The moon kept me oriented as I stumbled through the dark, and eventually, I found my way back to the car.

  My gaze connects with Ty’s, then I scoot off the bed and race him to the window.

  The silver BMW, sure enough. The door opens and a guy gets out. Can’t see much detail, except for a slender frame and short black curls. He opens the rear passenger door and pulls out a guitar case.

  “So he’s Cadi’s musician friend too,” Ty whispers.

  I look at him. “Or a gangster with a hidden machine gun.”

  He giggles. “Come on, let’s go find out!”

  We reach the top of the stairs as the front door opens. The murmur of voices.

  “Is that Idris?” Mrs. Jacobsen calls from the kitchen.

  “Yes,” Cadi shouts back. “Come on,” she adds more softly.

  They pass the staircase without noticing us watching from above. The guy is dressed in jeans and a white button-up shirt, open at the collar. The white cotton accentuates his brown skin.

  “Spying, boys?” Shri’s hand lands on my shoulder. Her other drops onto Ty’s.

  “He’s got a guitar,” Ty says.

  “Or a machine gun in a guitar case,” I challenge.

  Shri chuckles as she gives us both a gentle push. “Let’s go meet this mariachi then, shall we?”

  Tom Jacobsen is settled in his usual armchair, while the new guy, Idris, stands beside Cadi, hiding her from view. His guitar case sits on the floor, held vertically by his resting hand.

  Ty hurries ahead of us. “Hi,” he says, loudly.

  Cadi steps away from Idris and his arm slips from her waist.

  Identity confirmed. I stiffen and silently swear. He’s her boyfriend.

  A nudge at my elbow makes me glance at Shri.

  “Don’t be too obviously disappointed, will you?” she whispers out of the side of her mouth.

  I tug in a breath and wonder if Shri realized the strength of my feelings for Cadi back at the farm. Feelings I’m struggling to disengage.

  Cadi makes an awkward introduction, our names tumbling from her lips into a tangled heap.

  “Hi, nice to meet you.” Her boyfriend’s calm collectedness contrasts sharply with her crippling discomfort. “I heard someone needed a guitar.” He glances at Ty. “Don’t suppose that someone is you?”

  Ty’s face lights up as Idris hands him the case.

  Idris meets that smile and raises it. “Maybe you could play us something later.” His warmth and charm borders on irritating.

  Ty squirms. “Uh, sure. I’m not that good though.”

  “You’re great,” I interject. “He writes his own music.”

  Idris looks genuinely impressed. “Wow. A composer. Then I can’t wait to hear some of your work.”

  Ty wipes a hand down his jeans. “I might need to practice first.”

  “Maybe you two could jam later,” Cadi suggests, a smile tugging her lips.

  Shri takes a step forward. “So Idris, what do you do?”

  Her inquiry takes me by surprise. I figured I was going to have to be the interrogator.

  “I just graduated with Cadi.”

  “So you’re heading to college next year?” Shri probes.

  “Probably not next year. I’m working on a business opportunity in the city.”

  Shri’s nod seems friendly enough. “Great. What industry?”

  A slow smile pulls at Idris’s lips. “The music industry.”

  I step forward. “What instruments do you play?”

  Idris glances at the case he’s just handed over to Ty, maybe thinking that should be obvious. His gaze returns to me. “Guitar and keyboard, mostly.” This guy is cool and has no plans to give his game away.

  Mrs. Jacobsen arrives with a tray of lemonade, and chat drifts to the building project. Idris seems fascinated as Tom lays out his latest ideas. In fact, he’s a good bit more interested than I’d have expected.

  Is he putting it on, or what?

  “Dean and Shri have been helping.” Tom glances our way. “Shri’s got the creative eye and Dean’s turning out to be quite an engineer.”

  Mrs. Jacobsen motions us to the dining room a few minutes later.

  Dinner progresses with a surprising lack of forced pleasantries. Idris seems like he’s already part of the family, and Cadi relaxes in his company and becomes a different person.

  When the meal’s over, Cadi and Shri insist on cleaning up and abandon me, but Ty makes short work of getting Idris settled in front of the piano.

  “I’ve just started learning,” my brother tells him. “Mama Jacobsen’s teaching me, b
ut I’ve only practiced chords so far.”

  Idris shifts along the bench, inviting Ty to sit by him. Then he plays a few notes and gets Ty to follow.

  At the next pause in play, Ty says, “Mind if I record this?”

  Idris shrugs his approval.

  Ty grins. “Is video okay?” He positions his phone against the piano lid.

  “Idris is a nice young fella,” Tom says as we watch them from across the room. “In case you’re concerned.”

  Am I concerned? If I’m honest, I’d rather Idris was a jerk. Then I could hate him and do everything in my power to convince Cadi she could do better.

  The guitar comes out of its case, and Ty starts playing. I recognize one of the pieces he’s been working on. He plays it once, and Idris repeats the tune on the piano. Exactly.

  Tom notices my parting lips. “Perfect pitch.”

  I return a questioning look.

  “Idris has perfect pitch,” the older man explains. “He can recognize any note he hears, so he only has to listen to a piece of music once to play it back. Clever, huh?”

  “Amazing.” Somehow, I manage to keep the dripping sarcasm out of my voice.

  Ty seems content to play music with Idris all night long. I fail to get him to bed by ten o’clock. All hints, suggestions, comments and cajoles fall on deaf ears. Deaf to me, that is, because he’s hanging on Idris’s every word.

  Shri drops on the couch next to me. “Have you ever seen Ty having this much fun?”

  “No.”

  My glower makes her chuckle. “Jealous, are we?”

  “Of Mr. Perfect Pitch?” I roll my eyes. “He has my brother under mind control. So, yeah.”

  Still, it’s hard to hate the guy when Ty’s such an exuberant kid around him.

  I wish things were as comfortable between Cadi and me.

  She’s right. It would’ve been better if I hadn’t come, if I’d let go of the guilt and my lingering infatuation with her and moved on.

  Idris leaves his guitar behind for Ty to use, elevating himself to god status in my brother’s eyes.

  As we see Idris to the door, the Jacobsens invite him back for a barbecue the following afternoon. He accepts, which sends Ty spinning off into another adrenaline high.