by Rena Rocford
I shook my head. “Not that I know of.” But he had a point. We moved all over the country, never back to the same place. We never stayed longer than a few months, and we always just picked up and moved. But why would we be running?
Why would they hide?
“So what? You’re Kin, but what does that mean?”
“I am descended from a long line of unicorns who–”
A horn blared as a BMW drove up and stopped right in the road.
My heart leapt. Unicorn. He was part unicorn.
This was too much.
The horn kept blaring, and Steve rolled his head in the sign of the long-suffering teenager. “My father.”
The tinted window rolled down, and I got a glimpse of a man in designer sunglasses. He had the same wavy hair as Steve, only peppered with silver. His baby-butt smooth face had to be shaven by some sort of servant to look that clean at four o’clock in the afternoon.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled.
“Dad, I just wanted to–”
“I was worried sick when you didn’t show on time.”
Wow, he must run a tight ship; Steve couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes late for anything.
“Just give me a minute, okay?” Steve asked. “Look, can I call you or something?”
I dumped the pocketknife back into his hand. “I think I have enough crazy on my plate right now.”
“Can I come over or something? I haven’t met anyone outside our–”
His father leaned on the horn, cutting off all attempts at conversation.
Steve’s shoulders slumped, and he shot a glare at his father but took a step toward the BMW. The horn stopped, and Steve turned back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Sure.” I stepped away from the road, but his father’s words carried over the wind.
“What were you thinking, being seen with that girl?” The door slammed as Steve got in the car, and I kept my head down, watching but pretending not to hear.
“She’s one of us, Dad. I saw it.”
“No, she’s not, and you’ll stay away from her kind. She’s dangerous.”
Steve looked up, and across the distance, his amber eyes caught mine. Sorry, he mouthed.
walked away from the scene of crazy, rich, overprotective father being a complete twit and ducked through the wrought iron fence into my apartment complex. It was a giant gated community with multiple buildings all painted the same brownish-beige color. Conveniently, it matched the local dirt, so they never had to wash the buildings. Cars parked in the spaces ranged from brand new Mustangs to dilapidated Hondas from the eighties. My Aunt’s MGB sat there next to the other cars, a collector’s car lurking among the others. Good, she was still here somewhere. I wanted to talk to her.
I tore across the strip of lawn–a luxury in this desert–and caught the smell of earth and water. The grass was brown, but maybe that’s what grass looked like in Albuquerque.
As I stepped off the patch of lawn, I caught a hint of gunmetal and copper. I froze, searching the parking lot. Three big guys wrestled a lumpy bag into the back of a moving van. They had their backs to me, so I couldn’t see if it was the same guys from the mall. I ducked behind a wall, my heart racing.
I stood frozen in panic for a moment before I peeked around the corner. The three guys came out of the truck and went to a storage unit nearby. They grabbed a large box and carried it into the truck.
Just movers then.
Damn, why am I so jumpy?
Oh, right, trolls in the mall and a crazy guy who bleeds silver. And, of course, the whole me puking fire thing, ‘cause that’s not strange in the least.
The movers closed the door of their truck, piled into the cab and drove away. I didn’t move from my hiding place until they’d left the apartment complex. When they were gone, I rushed over the last patches of pavement to the stairs.
When I opened the door, the smell of flowers rolled over me. The spicy, almost cinnamon scent of the carnations mingled with the perfume of the stargazer lilies. The green smell reminded me of a garden, or what a garden should smell like. I’d never lived in one place long enough to grow anything. I chased that thought from my mind and kicked my boots into the corner by the door. The flowers sat in a vase next to a card on the kitchen counter.
My mother gave me the same present every year: cash, so I could buy clothes or jewelry or whatever. But there was one rule regarding all belongings, if it didn’t fit in the two trunks when we left, it didn’t come with us. I usually blew my birthday bucks on ice cream and pizza at the mall. And books. I loved books; I just wish they didn’t take up so much space. Maybe there’d be enough cash in the envelope for an e-reader.
I picked up the bulging envelope. Maybe she got me gift cards this year. It wasn’t her handwriting on the envelope, but my aunt’s messy scrawl. Mom’s handwriting could win contests. She claimed it had ‘gotten out of shape,’ but apparently going to school with nuns for teachers instilled great handwriting.
Maybe they should send doctors to those schools.
I tore at the edge, and the flap popped open. A key fell out and clattered to the counter, followed by a card and a folded piece of paper. The card was blank, just a picture of a kitten on the front with nothing inside. I picked up the key and turned it over in my hand. The piece of paper was written in the same bold hand as my name on the envelope. An address for somewhere in Nevada was written on the paper, and that was it. Flowers and a strange key from my aunt qualified as the weirdest birthday present ever.
‘Cause, seriously, I was totally going to get in a car and drive eight hundred miles to figure out what she just gave me…
I slipped the key into my pocket and went straight to my room. I pulled out my guitar and tried not to purr as I tuned it. I loved music. Songs were the only thing I got to do everywhere. I played through the chords of the song, adding in the lyrics as I went. I wasn’t a great player, but my aunt wrote incredible music. Even I sounded good when I played her stuff.
I practiced until I memorized the piece in the off chance I might get to play it for her tonight. If I did, she might play, too.
But what was the deal with the key?
I stopped playing and pulled out my phone, flipped it open and dialed Beth.
“Hey, what’s eating you?” Beth asked.
“You could wait for me to at least say hello.”
“Okay, say hello.”
“Hi,” I said, dragging it out.
“What’s eating you? Birthday blues? Did your mom cancel dinner, ‘cause if she did, you can come over here, and I’ll order a pizza or something. It’s your birthday. It’d be a crime not to celebrate.”
“Your dad still out of town?”
“He’ll be back on Monday.”
“Doesn’t he worry about you partying or something?”
“Yeah, no. I’m about the most boring teenager on the planet. Besides, he racked up a bunch of Xbox points before he left. Someone has to spend them.” She paused. “You’re avoiding the question.”
“Yeah, well, I ran into Steve on the way home,” I said. What to tell Beth? His dad is an ass, and he bleeds silver, so don’t cut him.
Does he get silver road rash?
“Tell me you didn’t listen to him and his pack of nags. They are completely worthless.” Something on the other end of the line broke and Beth swore.
“Pack of nags?”
“Unicorns. He’s some sort of protégé monohorn. Anyhow, he had tapes of me healing crazy fast and they were going to post it on YouTube. He and Jed were trying to get attention from some Hollywood big wigs in town. They tried to use the school computer lab, and that’s when they got caught.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup.”
“Are you okay? I mean, you didn’t crush any skulls or anything, did you?”
“Nope, I found their parents and told them what their children were doing.”
&nb
sp; Her smug smile rang through the phone in her voice.
“Wait, you ratted them out to their parents and you weren’t branded nark of the century?” I asked.
“Honestly, Ally, does it look like I have a gang of devoted admirers?”
“Did you tell your dad?”
“He was on a business trip to Africa and didn’t get back for weeks. By then, well, I’d done everything I could. It was enough humiliation all around, no need to involve the parental unit.”
Silence fell, but I didn’t know what to say.
A key scraped in the lock of the front door. “I should go, that’s probably my mom.”
“Is that your super hearing coming into effect? Shall I add it to your wicked vomit aiming skills?”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Fine. Just remember, if she cancels on you, I’ve got pizza.”
“Bye.” I flipped the phone closed.
“Honey, are you home?” my mother asked from the front door.
“I’m here, Mom.”
I went back out into the front room as my mom pushed into the apartment with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and an envelope in the other.
“I’ve got some big news,” she said.
“Oh?” I cocked an eyebrow for effect.
“I got transferred. We’ll be moving in a month.”
Not again. I sagged into the couch.
“Isn’t that great? It’s a big raise, too; I’m actually getting promoted.” She laid the flowers on the counter and dropped an envelope next to them, then opened the refrigerator and pulled out an uncorked bottle of wine. “Happy birthday!”
She poured the golden wine into a plastic cup, then poured some sparkling grape juice for me. She handed me my glass.
“Congratulations.” I dutifully lifted the cup to my mother. She glowed in the moment. I put the cup to my lips and took a swallow, trying not to taste the week old refrigerator smell.
She took a long sip of wine and sighed. “So, how was your birthday?”
Great, Mom, my best–only–friend is a troll, and the only guy I’ve had a crush on in years is an asshole who bleeds silver. Oh, and I’m half freakin’ dragon and you couldn’t have mentioned that during the honey-we-should-talk-about-sex-and-drugs lecture?
I held back my sigh. “Fine.”
She seemed to see me for the first time since getting home. “Here’s the deal, kiddo. When we move, I’ll be able to afford something special.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “What sort of special.”
“I was going to make it a surprise, but it is your birthday. I was thinking I could let you pick out a new guitar.”
“An electric one?”
My mother sighed. “If that’s what you want, then sure.”
Visions of a purple Fender danced through my head. Who doesn’t want a new guitar? Yeah, so it was bribery. When it came to music, I had no integrity. I was all about the bribes.
She pinched me, and I tried not to giggle, but her happiness was infectious, drawing a laugh out of me. “So, is there anyone you’d like to invite to your birthday dinner?”
“Beth,” I said automatically. “Her dad’s out of town.”
“He sure travels a lot.” She looked at me frowning. Her brow furrowed as she took a gulp of wine. She passed over the envelope, and I opened it. Six twenties flapped at me as I read the card.
“Thanks, Mom.”
She held up her drink. “To a new home.”
I tapped my cup to hers, but kept my mouth shut. In my pocket, a mysterious key burned in mind, begging for attention. To a home.
Five Days Before
fter a birthday dinner that mysteriously did not involve crazy Aunt Agnes–I fully suspected my mother had something to do with that–I woke and dressed for class as usual. I still got goose bumps thinking about those trolls, but now it seemed more like a bad dream than real life. Besides, Fridays always held a certain appeal: the hope of the weekend. There was something magical about two days off. Two days of not needing to try to fit in and pretending the whispered insults didn’t hurt my feelings. Why did I even go to school? I didn’t have the grades to get into college.
“Mom, can I just stay home today?”
“Absolutely not,” she called from the bathroom.
She curled her hair to perfection–someone should have told her you don’t have to impress the boss after you get the career-altering promotion. It was her new boss she’d need to kiss up to. Still, she put on her climbing-the-corporate-ladder dress, and her makeup looked great. Nothing could make her hair prettier, but she’d been giving it a go for the last twenty minutes.
“But yesterday was my birthday.” That sounded whiny even to me.
“And today is not. Chin up; I want you to take some good grades to your next school. Is that understood?” My mother smacked her lips as she reapplied her lipstick. “Oh, and your aunt called; she said she was sorry about last night.”
“When did she call?”
“She said it was lunch, but the message didn’t show up until last night.”
Damn it. I really wanted to pin her down. If I was half dragon, then she must be too. Or maybe she was full. I was hoping to get some real answers from her, but now she’d probably disappeared for another year. Would I have the guts to ask her over the phone?
“You’d better hurry up, young lady. I know when the first bell is.”
I rolled my eyes, but grabbed my backpack, utterly untouched since I’d gotten home yesterday. So much for a new leaf and all that. I slipped it over my shoulder and hopped out into the cool morning. Fruitless plum trees lined the streets, blossoms filling the air. I loved how they looked like little clouds of magic, and just in time for my birthday. The wind tore through the apartment complex, and the pink petals rained down like snow, blanketing the walkway at my feet. Late March wasn’t a terrible time to have a birthday; I just wished I’d gotten some answers.
And what was at that address in Ely, Nevada? I’d spent half my night wondering about the key and the other half dreaming about turning into a leathery, scaled monster. Just on the cusp of morning, I’d dreamt I’d been given a castle in the desert.
I’d never be lucky enough to inherit a castle–or the fortune I’d need just to have it–but I enjoyed rolling the thought around in my head. A castle perched on some red sandstone cliff, overlooking a deep valley like the Grand Canyon. The wind would sweep up the cliffs, and I could fly. I could watch the seasons change in one place, dusted by snow in the winter, dotted with flowers in the spring. Would it have thunderstorms through the summer? I painted them on my imaginary castle. That would do.
I hit the crosswalk button and waited for the light to change. Across the street, Beth leaned against the light post, waiting for me. She smiled when she met my gaze, and my whole body relaxed. We would go about our normal business, and pretend the whole troll-dragon-guy-bleeding-silver thing hadn’t happened. When the light changed, I practically skipped across the road as I mentally imagined Beth in my castle with me. It would get lonely all by myself, after all. She could have the east wing. I’d take the west wing.
“Was it a satisfactory birthday?” Beth asked.
“Well, my aunt called to say sorry, but I didn’t get to talk to her.” I spoke with my usual light-hearted tone, but Beth gave me the penetrating eyeball.
“Maybe you can come over this afternoon and watch some movies. I’ve got an ancient copy of Legend. They cut off some unicorn horns,” she said, and flashed a malicious smile.
“Any word from your padre?”
“Pwha! As if. Look, if you can talk your mom into it, you can come over and we could get into loads of trouble. I don’t even have any volunteer work this weekend.”
When I raised an eyebrow in question, she rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you some other time. So, what do you say, explore your inner-self, watch movies with me?”
I sighed. “Right, well, we could watch The Last Unicorn or Dragon Heart, or something.
”
“Hey, you okay?” Beth elbowed me in the ribs, searching my gaze with bright green eyes. Sure, they were a touch larger than they should be, and her right eye was a little higher than her left, but even if she was half troll, she cared. Which was more than I could say for all my former classmates.
“I’m just disappointed. I wanted to grill my aunt.”
“You could always ask your mother.”
“Ha! There are two forbidden topics in my house: absent family members, and the past.” I held my hand over the side of my mouth. “Besides, what would I say? Mom, I accidentally lit the mall on fire? I’m probably wanted for arson. These are not the ways to open conversations with the parental unit.”
“I’m just saying.” Beth rounded the yellow bars that marked the edge of the parking lot. Tires screeched across the asphalt, and everyone turned. The rumble of anti-lock brakes warred with the squealing tires as a silver BMW slid to a halt next to the sidewalk.
Startled expletives broke out through the crowd heading onto campus.
Steve’s dad jumped out of the car. “You!” He jabbed an accusing finger toward Beth and me as he stalked forward. “You blubbering, festering pile of puss. What have you done with him? Where is my son?” He pushed me aside and grabbed the lapels of Beth’s jacket.
She towered over him in size, but shrank before his fury. “What? I don’t know! What’s going on?” Beth looked to me then back at Steve’s dad.
“I knew you’d turn on us.” He shook her jacket, and Beth rattled in the canvas. “I’ll kill you. We never should have taken in one of your kind!” His red face threatened to pop, but his hands moved from Beth’s jacket to her throat. He had to reach up to get a grip around her neck. If he hadn’t been screaming mad, it would have been a classic example of a Chihuahua taking on a Bull Mastiff. Except the Bull Mastiff had frozen.
Beth’s face paled to paper white. She stared wide-eyed at Steve’s dad, unable to muster any defense.
His hands tightened, and a squelch escaped Beth’s mouth.
The rapid beating of his heart rose over the din of the crowd. It drummed impossibly fast, and my senses sharpened. His clothes smelled of cologne and cigarette smoke. His breath was tinged with sugar and jelly–a donut, maybe? His tear-streaked face held a full day’s worth of beard growth.
