by AC Washer
As I kept peering at them, something in my chest fluttered wildly, as if this was the most exciting thing since cocoa puffs.
But as I watched them draw closer, puzzled by my own reaction, a nervous apprehension threaded through the odd sense of anticipation.
Something about them...Something was wrong.
Chapter 2
As they neared, I rubbed my eyes an attempt to clear my vision. But nothing changed. I was still…seeing double.
At the offset, the three guys appeared normal. But…there seemed to be an extra image superimposed on each of the three guys—almost as if they were wearing a human suit. But the ‘suit’ was just transparent enough to where I could make out a…another person underneath.
This had to be my imagination. This wasn’t real. People didn’t wear human body suits. I was just some foster kid getting sent into the middle of nowhere. I wasn’t on the set of some B-rated…
I blinked at the realistic images.
Okay, A-rated movie.
Was I hallucinating? Maybe Deena was right. Maybe those pain meds were affecting me more than I thought. If she thought they’d been making me hear things, maybe they were making me see things, too.
That was the best—and most likely—explanation I could come up with. And it made sense. But why did it have to happen now?
As the guys drew closer, the smell of barf clinging to my hair seemed to grow stronger. I fidgeted with my frizz, wishing for a hairband or scissors or anything to help me feel less gross as I took in their shirtless chests and dripping wet hair. It was impossible to miss the way their towels shifted across tanned, built shoulders as they sauntered closer—or the way their jeans rode their hips. A week ago, my jaw would have dropped like any other girl with a pulse. But a week ago, I wouldn’t have been distracted by hallucinations. Because that’s what these had to be.
“Hey, there!”
I jerked my head toward Deena, so absorbed in the social dumpster fire that my hallucinating, bruised, barf-smelling self was about to create that I hadn’t even noticed her stomping toward me. At least she looked the same—no ‘human body suit’ appearance there.
My caseworker brushed tight black spirals out of her eyes and smiled widely at the guys, raising her hand to flag them down. They lifted their hands in reply, veering to walk straight toward us.
I stared at her. Then at the guys. Then back at her again. It was like accompanying a child-abuse exhibit to her new foster home totally didn’t faze her—like it was socially normal. For her, maybe it was.
Deena beamed at them before shooting me a glance, quirking a brow as if to suggest I do the same.
My mouth tightened until my lips ached.
Deena smiled too sweetly at me and said under her breath, “Doom and gloom won’t get you friends, honey. Smile and act like you’re normal.”
“Uh, have you seen this face?” I muttered to her.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Stop feeling…. My dad almost killed me.”
“But he didn’t, and you’re alive. Now act like it.” She looked at me as I just stared at her.
I definitely needed a new caseworker.
When the guys got within a few feet, my gaze ping-ponged between the guy the on the right and the one on the left of the trio.
It’s just the painkillers, I told myself, trying to keep my expression smooth. But easier said than done when they both seemed to have some sort of creature hiding underneath their human exterior—something large, with spikey fur, leathery wings hanging out to the side as if to dry, and large, fanged teeth and claws.
I swallowed and fixed my gaze on the guy in the middle. At least I wasn’t hallucinating anything too bad with him… It was more like I was seeing double—an overlap where the other form was only slightly taller and a little thinner around the waist, but basically the same. The face, though…. There was something different about it that I couldn’t quite make out in the afternoon sun.
“Hey, ma’am.” To my relief, it was the one in the center that spoke—I didn’t have to look at the other two.
He had an almost lazy way of speaking, calm and self-assured, but the predatory way his muscles bunched and relaxed reminded me too much of the creatures at his side and put me further on edge—a feat I didn’t think possible.
“Need some help?” One of the guys with the winged, wolf-like hallucination snapped a wet towel at the other’s back. The middle guy rolled his eyes, but there was a trace of a smile there—right until his gaze landed on me. His brows lifted just a fraction. Either I was devastatingly beautiful or he could see my face despite the oak’s mottled shade.
I swallowed. I needed to get it together. This was all in my mind—just the drugs. I needed to pretend everything was fine—that I was normal.
At least I was good at pretending.
“Hey, ya’ll,” I drawled. I didn’t know what possessed me to copy Deena’s southern accent, but I decided to roll with it. All I needed now was blond locks and a hoop skirt. I tried to paste on my best I’m-sexy-and-I-know-it smirk, but I ruined it by wincing.
Then again, between the busted lip and the shiner that looked like one big bruise spreading from my forehead to my chin, I was already screwed in the first impressions department.
Two more sets of eyes snapped to me—as did the dark eyes of the creatures that laid beneath the surface.
But it was the human-like hallucination guy that talked—which was fine by me. Focusing on the more normal-looking one might just help me get out of this without looking insane.
“What happened to you?” His voice tightened, his eyes scanning me.
I shifted from foot to foot, not wanting to answer. But Deena was looking on, ready to run interference, and who knew what she’d say.
“There was an accident.” I flipped my hand in the air dismissively.
His eyes narrowed as he scanned my bruises. I knew he didn’t believe me. Though I really wasn’t lying. I ‘accidentally’ got my dad mad enough to beat the hell out of me.
“We’re trying to find someone who lives around here,” Deena jumped in. “This seems like a pretty small area—maybe you know Maeve Reid?”
He froze for a split second, his eyes darting to me, reassessing.
I bent my head down, pretending to pick at the no-longer-present splinter in my palm, my hair falling in a nauseating curtain around me. I noticed the syrupy blood again and quickly shoved my hands into my jean pockets, focusing on Deena instead.
His smooth, deceptively lazy voice reappeared. “What business do you have with Maeve?”
“That’s personal,” Deena said.
He grinned. “Nothing here is ‘personal.’” He studied me again. “How old are you?Seventeen?”
I opened my mouth, but he stepped closer, catching my gaze in his. Breath whooshed out of my lungs as we stared at each other. There was more to those honey-brown eyes, and it wasn’t the streaks of amber swirling in their depths. It was something like power and danger and…curiosity? As quickly as I identified it, it vanished, recognition and anger taking its place, glittering at me like steel in the hot sun. It pushed me off balance, forcing me to take a step back.
He broke my gaze and smiled, but the smile was all mask. “You have her eyes,” he said.
“Her eyes?”
“Your mother’s. I guess we have to let you in after all. Can’t interfere with you taking her place, can we?” His eyes had turned frigid, his mouth sardonic.
Whoever this guy mistook me for and whatever situation she was in seemed like it’d get a far worse reception than my own. I shook my head. “You’ve got it wrong. I don’t have a mom. This” —I gestured to Deena— “is my caseworker. And I am a foster kid. Dad’s in jail, mom’s MIA, that kind of thing. Maeve Reid is my foster mom.”
His brows drew lower and lower the longer I talked. “I see.” He studied me a bit more before he seemed to snap to a conclusion. “Maeve lives closer to town.”
&
nbsp; Deena looked back toward our van as she scrunched up her face. “GPS didn’t show a town.”
He shrugged. “GPS doesn’t work here. That’s why they send us here when they’re expecting outsiders.”
“They?” I asked.
“The council. Maeve’s on it.”
Deena pursed her lips in disapproval. “So, you’re a welcoming committee…who went swimming and only found us by chance.”
He shrugged. “We were gone for maybe 30 minutes?” The guy to his right nodded. “And the road back there runs in a loop. If we didn’t find you just now, we would have seen you in another hour.”
“Fine,” Deena said, her tone clipped. “So, where’s town?”
I could feel his gaze slide across me. “Are you sure that’s where you want to go? Maeve has her reasons bringing you here, and they aren’t in your best interests.”
Even though I already knew as much—I mean, everyone heard stories about foster families that were in it for the money—his words chilled me just the same.
“Now hold on there,” Deena sputtered. “Maeve Reid is a good—”
“It’s not like I have much of a choice,” I said, cutting Deena off.
“Come with us,” he said. My eyes widened.
“Because you have my best interests at heart?” Sarcasm dripped from my voice—and also a little bit of fear. What was going on here that someone was warning me away from this Maeve lady? Was I headed into the type of foster home that inspired crime documentaries?
“Well, I wouldn’t say that, but I can promise you’d be better off with us.” And I knew—just like I always knew when people spoke what they believed was truth—that he really meant it.
“Wow, Deena,” I said, looking over at my tight-lipped caseworker, who was glaring at him with enough heat to cause second-degree burns. “Sounds like Maeve Reid is a real winner, because I actually believe the creepy stranger.”
And I did. There wasn’t a trace of madness or slyness in his eyes. Only a certainty that completely disarmed me and a gut that tugged on me to take him up on his offer, as crazy as it seemed.
“The ‘creepy’ stranger’s name is Edon,” the guy on the left said, his voice gruff in a way that seemed to match the hallucination my mind had picked out for him. “Now you’ve met.”
But it was Deena who all but growled, “Maeve Reid is a thoroughly background-checked individual with an excellent foster care record—”
Edon nodded as if that was to be expected.
“—and it’s not her I’m worried about.”
“What about you?” Edon’s eyes had never left mine. “Say the word, and you can leave with us. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“You—you—” Deena’s mouth opened and closed.
Again, I knew he was telling the truth—as far as he knew it. And my gut had gone from tugging to screaming at me to say yes.
But it had also told me to book it to Denver to be next to Caleb, and that hadn’t turned out so great. So, yeah, I was having some trust issues with it at the moment. Besides, I had too much to lose. If Caleb was in the hospital for longer than a couple of weeks, the only way I’d be able to see him was through visitations Deena organized—visitations I couldn’t have as a minor on my own or if Deena thought I couldn’t be trusted. I couldn’t risk that. Caleb and I only had each other now.
And so what if this Maeve person was awful? I just needed to stick around long enough for Caleb to get out of the hospital.
I shook my head.
“No?” Edon said. “Can’t say I’m not disappointed. But maybe you’ll come around later.”
“Unless you’re going to give us directions to Ms. Reid, I think we’re done here.” Deena’s voice was as tight as her smile and as staccato as a drum beat.
A few weighted seconds went by, as if Edon was giving me time to change my mind. When I stayed silent, he shrugged.
“Go that way for about five miles.” He jerked his thumb toward the torture device disguised as a road. I closed my eyes, already tasting bile. “There’s a small turnoff that says ‘no services.’ Take that and it’ll take you into town.”
“We went by there already. It didn’t seem… right.”
One of the guys snorted. “It isn’t supposed to feel right. It’s a—”
Edon clamped a hand down on his shoulder. “It’s the way into town. If you want to get to Ms. Reid’s, you’ll turn there and take the right at the next two forks in the road.”
“Well, then, thank you for your help.” Deena’s voice was overly-bright, her fingers tightly gripping her phone.
“Not a problem.” He eyed me and then smiled a different smile. I knew that one. I’d seen that smile on the nurses when I woke up in the hospital—and on Deena when she first stood by my hard hospital bed and told me I was “safe.” It was the smile of someone who hoped you weren’t going to break.
“Hey.” He kept his tone light, but his eyes pinned me down. “If you change your mind, take the left at the first fork. Everything on that side of town is safe.” He jerked his chin and I followed his gaze that indicated the northeast rather than the southeasterly direction where Maeve Reid lived. There was nothing to see. Just more rural Colorado with dried-out prairie grass and winds that whipped through the area without the suburban sprawl to stop them. When I looked back, it was to his profile as he turned to whisper to one of his friends.
There.
There it was. His shadow had triangular-tipped ears just like the elves on Christmas specials.
Maybe I gasped, because he turned back to me, his brown eyes narrowing as I continued to gape. I shook my head. I was losing it. I needed to ignore the hallucinations, not become socially handicapped because of them. But things were getting to be too much. All of this was getting to be too much.
I quickly replayed the last things we said and responded with, “If things go sideways, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Edon chuckled, his brown eyes glinting as his mouth curved into a half-smile, half-smirk. My heart leapt into my throat before falling not quite back to where it belonged. I swallowed. Edon had the sort of smile that made grown women act like idiots just so they could see it again. I’d seen it happen enough to know, and up until now, I thought that’d made me immune to it.
I stood frozen, staring up at Edon like paralyzed prey. In that moment, I came closer to understanding my dad’s ex-girlfriends than I ever had before.
And that was terrifying—more than any hallucination.
Edon’s voice seemed to come from miles away. “Then we’ll get the place ready for you, since it’s not really a matter of ‘if.’”
A few heartbeats went by before I could shut my mouth. A few more beats before I realized my feet were moving me toward the van without me giving them permission. But even when my mind caught up with my feet, I didn’t stop them. Instead, I walked faster, tripping over a tree root while trying to get to the van as quickly as I could without running.
By the time Deena caught up with me, I was sitting in the passenger seat, staring at the beige glove compartment.
The vinyl squelched as Deena sat down. She eyed me while she buckled up.
After a long pause, she said, “Don’t get too worried. Maybe they don’t like each other, but that doesn’t mean you’ll have any problems with Ms. Reid. That guy is full of it, in any case. If I was Ms. Reid, I’d probably give him reason not to like me, too.”
I didn’t say anything. What could I say? My gut wanted me to go with him to his lodge in the middle of nowhere, and the only reason I didn’t want to anymore is because he had a great smile? What was wrong with me?
Deena sighed and started the car. She slowly backed the van out of the campsite.
“Just so you know,” she said, “your face is looking a lot better.”
She was lying. I always knew when people lied.
And anyway, I didn’t care about the bruises; right then, I didn’t even care about the shadows. It was my response to Edon�
��s smile that freaked me out. I’d seen my dad smile at women with that same charming smile and get away with anything. It was like it stunned the last brain cell his girlfriends had left. Well, Edon had stunned every last one of mine. And that was with me knowing better than anyone what a charming smile really was—lies and pain wrapped up in a pretty package. And to think, he’d had me wanting to take him up on his offer.
As we backed out, Edon’s careful gaze caught mine, taking it hostage for two breathless seconds. I let my curls droop down, shielding me as I stared at my feet.
You don’t trust charming.
Chapter 3
Whatever I expected when we turned onto the no services road, it wasn’t this. What started out as random copses of trees steadily grew denser as we drove. And these weren’t the scraggly oaks we’d passed on the prairies or the pines that were so common, they made one the state tree. No, these trees were lush and spread out on a canopy of vibrant green grass. By the time the asphalt gave way to smooth dirt road, the canopy of trees was so dense that the grass underneath disappeared, replaced by a few determined shrubs.
“What is this place?” I asked as lights deeper in the forest caught my attention. They flickered in and out as if people were was walking with a flashlights—very bouncy flashlights that lit up at strange intervals. Was it some kind of search party? Maybe someone got lost.
“I…have no idea,” Deena said before turning right at a fork in the road. “It’s like something out of a…” She trailed off.
“Fairytale?” I squinted at what looked to be a tiny rustic cottage in the middle of the woods, but we drove by before I could be sure. Maybe it’d been a shed. Had to have been a shed.
“Yeah,” Deena said.
The closer we got to my foster home, the less dense the forest became and the more Deena seemed to relax. But me? My nerves were at an all-time high. We were driving through a forest that looked like it belonged in Georgia or Virginia—someplace known for being warm and wet and green. Not here in Colorado, where my neighbors watered their lawns every day so the grass wouldn’t die.
