by D T Dyllin
HIDDEN GATES
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this book are products of the imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2013 by D.T. Dyllin
All rights reserved
Cover art by Lindsay Tiry, with contributions by Rebecca Sampson & Julia Starr. P.J. Stone Gates Trilogy logo by Jordan P. Fremgen.
Published by Dragonfairy Press, Atlanta
www.dragonfairypress.com
Dragonfairy Press and the Dragonfairy Press logo are trademarks of Dragonfairy Press LLC.
First Publication, January 2013
Kindle Edition, January 2013
Kindle ISBN: 978-1-939452-13-9
Published in the United States of America
-.. .--. --. .-. --- ..- .--. . -..- -.-. .-.. ..- ... .. ...-
For my dad,
who planted the seeds of inspiration,
one Unc Nunkie and Tik-Tok at a time.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Acknowledgements
1
“Hey P.J.” Evan’s raspy voice commanded my attention from beside my locker. I glanced over to meet his deep brown eyes with surprise. “I was wondering what you were doing this weekend?”
“Me?” I squeaked. Evan Thompson was actually speaking to me, and he knew my name.
“Yeah, you. I don’t see anyone else around, do you?”
My eyes traveled the length of the empty hallway and back. When did that happen? “No, I just—” I was silenced when Evan brought his hand up to caress the side of my face before slipping his fingers into my hair. The contact of his skin on mine made me tingle with awareness as his powers slid into me.
“How have I never noticed you before?” His voice had dropped down into a more intimate tone, and his eyes flashed with lust just before he pushed me back against the lockers and captured my lips with his. I groaned with pleasure as his tongue slid into my mouth to intertwine with mine, and his muscled body pushed firmly against me. The hand that wasn’t holding me captive by my hair moved down to—
“What?” I said with annoyance as I felt someone pinch the back of my arm, startling me back to reality.
I looked up to see my best friend Bryn’s dark blue eyes glittering with amusement. “Day dreaming again? Who was it this time? Let me guess.” He leaned back in his seat and scanned the room around us. When his eyes came to rest on Evan Thompson, who just happened to be sitting in the exact spot my vacant gaze had been fixated on for the past half hour, he rolled his eyes. “Really? Evan Thompson? Like you have any chance at all with him.”
I shot Bryn an evil glare. “Hey! I might not have had a shot with him last year, but this year is different.”
Bryn interrupted me with another eye roll. “Here we go again. Just because your tits have grown like half a cup size isn’t going to change anything. Trust me when I say you’re probably the only one who can tell the difference.”
I brought my arms up over my—fine—less than ample bosom, to protect them from his hurtful words. “You noticed,” I grumbled, in protest.
He chuckled. “Only because I noticed you prancing around like they’re suddenly D cups.”
“Okay, this is just weird. Can we please not talk about my cup size, or lack thereof anymore? You may be my best friend, but you’re still a guy. Besides, I have plenty of other qualities that might interest someone like Evan Thompson.” Bryn gave me a pitying look before going back to doodling on his folder, letting me know he thought our conversation wasn’t worth his time anymore. “Fine. Whatever, Bryn Aries O’Bannon.” I hissed. “Nobody asked you anyways.”
Bryn clutched the sides of his desk and turned to deliver me a death glare of his own. “Quiet, Paige Joplin Stone. You wanna use my middle name for everyone to hear, then two can play at that game.”
“Shut up!” I cringed at hearing my middle name said out loud. “My name is P.J.”
His lips curved up slightly at the corners. “What was that, Paige Joplin Stone? I couldn’t quite hear you.”
A few kids turned around in their seats, their interest piqued by my and Bryn’s exchange; not that I could blame them, there usually wasn’t much excitement in study hall, but why did my conversation have to suddenly catch everyone’s attention? Realizing I could be blown out of the water and my entire high school career ruined, I shot Bryn a pleading look. “Okay. Fine. I’ll shut up if you do. Just please don’t say that name out loud ever again.”
Bryn gave me his patented lopsided grin, complete with dimples, and ran his hand through his thick black hair as he met my eyes. “Well, I don’t know. What are you willing to give me for my silence?”
Now I was starting to get angry. Most of the time, Bryn was great, my partner in crime since we were five, but lately he was becoming relentless in his harassment of yours truly. And truth be told, he knew way too much about me for it to be even the tiniest bit amusing, case in point with my middle name. Bryn was the only person, outside of family and staff at my school who was privy to such top-secret information. It would be hard enough to make it through high school relatively unscathed without such handicaps as everyone knowing your middle name is Joplin because your quirky mother’s favorite singer is Janis Joplin. “I swear to God, Bryn, if you don’t shut up right now, I’m never going to talk to you again.”
Bryn laughed. “You’d never be able to find someone who puts up with you the way I do, and you’d come crawling back to me in less than a day.”
“I hate you,” I grated through clenched teeth.
“You love me.” His eyes twinkled brighter, which only made me want to scratch them out.
“No, I hate you,” I repeated with more vehemence.
“Whatever you say,” he said as he returned to his stupid doodle.
I sat and stewed for the rest of the period until the bell—or buzzer, if I really wanted to get technical—signaled it was time for lunch, thank the heavens. I gathered my stuff, jammed it all into my bag, and bolted for the door. I usually waited for Bryn since we always ate lunch together, but since I was still mad at him, I didn’t bother. I had made it about halfway down the hall before he caught up with me.
“Awe, come on, I was only kidding. Don’t be so touchy.” I turned my head to avoid eye contact with him and sped up my pace. He matched my speed with ease on his longer legs. Damn Guardian growth spurts—only a few months ago I was almost as tall as him, but now he towered over my 5'9", which isn’t exactly short for a girl, I might add. “Okay, I’m sorry. Is that what you want? An official apology?” When I didn’t respond, he continued, “Someone like Evan Thompson would never notice you because you would never even blip on his radar. You’ve seen the trashy girls he’s with all the time. You’re too good for him. It was kind of a compliment, what I said before—in a backhanded sort of way.”
“Very backhanded,” I grumbled. “Besides, it’s not like he can real
ly be with any of those girls—not in the long run anyways—he’s a Gatekeeper.” No, he couldn’t be with a regular human—or Regs as we referred to them—at least not settle down with one, because our world has rules. Our world—my world—is very different from the one most people know. In my world, there are portals—gates if you will—that link our dimension to thousands of other dimensions. Living close to these gates are small groups of people, with special gifts, that have existed as far back as recorded time. These people—my people—exist to protect our dimension from any outside threats. We pass down our genetic gifts from generation to generation, which ensures the future safety of the earth. So it’s kind of important to keep our bloodlines strong.
Evan, as a Gatekeeper, would be expected to choose a Seer as a future mate. We can go out and date whoever we want, and technically, have kids one day with whoever we desire, but it’s been ingrained since childhood that it’s our duty to pass on our DNA for the protection of the planet. Talk about pressure. I, being a Seer, can only reproduce another Seer if I have a child with a male descendent from a Seer line or a Gatekeeper. An anomaly of Guardians is that they only produce male children, so if I were to have a child with one, I would put a halt to the possibility of another Seer being born, as only girls possess active Seer powers. Seers are the most important group among our people; no one else can really do their job if there aren’t any Seers around. Therefore, a lot of work goes into perpetuating our lines. Yeah, being a member of my world kind of puts a kink in my love life.
“That part doesn’t matter. You deserve someone better, someone who can appreciate you for who you really are.”
“I don’t think that guy exists, Bryn. My choices are kind of limited,” I said with a sigh. “You’re right when you said no one else would put up with me. At least when I’m forced into a marriage one day with someone that repulses me, I’ll still have you to comfort me as I cry myself to sleep every night.”
“Awe, come on, I was just giving you a hard time, and you know it.” He ducked to bump my shoulder with his. “We both know it’s the other way around. Who would put up with me and my—”
“Dark and broody moods?” I interjected. “You’re quite right. Me and only me. You shouldn’t antagonize me, Bryn. What you really should be doing is kissing my feet.” I smiled up at him. “Kissing my toes and massaging my feet, for putting up with you all these years. How Tammie did for an entire year is beyond me.”
He scowled at me. “I broke up with her, remember? Not the other way around.”
“And I don’t understand why.” I studied his face for some kind of clue. Tammie Masterson had been Bryn’s girlfriend for well over a year. I’d never really liked her because he was way too good for her, but that aside, they had seemed pretty happy together—although she was constantly jealous of all the inside jokes Bryn and I shared. But whoever dated Bryn was going to have to deal with that because I was here to stay—one day Bryn would be my personal Guardian, and there was no interfering with that relationship. Everyone knows a Guardian’s most important job is protecting his Seer—as it should be.
“I really don’t wanna talk about this right now.”
“But I do. Why won’t you tell me why you guys broke up? You used to tell me everything. It’s been almost a whole month, and I still have no clue what happened between you guys. Aren’t I your best friend anymore?”
Bryn’s eyes darkened. “You know you’ll always be my best friend. There are just some things I can’t talk to you about.” When my lower lip stuck out at him, his face softened. “At least not right now.”
I took his hand in mine and gave him my best puppy dog eyes. “Please, Bryn. Please tell me. I’ll do anything you want. Pah-leeeeeezzze.”
He stared at me, and his brows drew together. “Be careful what you say.” He turned and started walking again. “What I want might be more than you’re willing to offer me.” I heard him mutter the last part under his breath. His comment completely confused me. What could he possibly want from me that he would think I wouldn’t give him? He was my best friend in the world, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do for him—nothing.
I scurried to catch up to him. “Bryn, what are you talking about? I hope you know I would do anything for you. You know that, right?”
“Just drop it. I told you I don’t wanna talk about it.” We walked a few moments in silence before he spoke again. “So what time did your mom say for us to come over tomorrow night, again?”
Bryn’s and my birthdays were a day apart. Mine was today, and his was tomorrow. Somehow we had ended up having a joint sixth birthday party, and it just kind of stuck, becoming a tradition with our families to combine our celebrations. Since our families were so close, no one objected—in fact, quite the contrary. “I don’t know, six-ish I guess. You know”—I interlaced my fingers with his—“I’m still older than you for a few more hours. Older and wiser.”
You know that saying . . . speak of the devil and he shall appear? Well, in this case, the devil was a she because Tammie chose that exact moment to walk out of a classroom just as we were passing it. She stopped abruptly and looked up at Bryn like a deer caught in headlights. The two of us dwarfed her small about five foot frame, and she self-consciously ran her fingers through her long blond curls. “Hey, Bryn. I was hoping I’d see you today. I wanted to wish you Happy Birthday, and I was hoping that maybe . . .” Her voice trailed off as she took in the sight of Bryn holding my hand. “Oh, I see,” she said crisply. “I can’t say that I’m surprised.” She whirled on her heel and headed off in the opposite direction at a dead sprint.
Realization dawned on me, and I dropped Bryn’s hand. “Really? Is that what you don’t wanna tell me? Does she really think something is going on between us? Is that why she was always so jealous of me?” I laughed. “That’s ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous.”
Bryn’s face clouded over. “Yeah, absolutely ridiculous,” he said through clenched teeth. “Look, I forgot my math book and I need it to finish up some homework before next period. You go ahead and have lunch without me, and I’ll see you later.” Bryn turned and jogged off in the opposite direction of where Tammie had gone, before I could argue with him.
“Weird,” I muttered to myself. His locker isn’t down that way, and we don’t even have any math homework. I’m in the same class. What just happened? I had a sinking feeling that I really didn’t want to know.
2
“Do you think Bryn’s been acting weird lately?” I asked Jenna between bites of pizza.
Jenna sat gazing off over my shoulder, eyes shining with adoration while she twirled a purple piece of hair around her finger. “How am I supposed to know? You guys have your own language, one that even I’ve never been able to understand.”
I frowned at her. “I don’t have time for your stupid Speaker jokes. I’m being serious here.”
Jenna turned her deep brown eyes on me, a smile breaking across her face. “So am I—being serious, that is. You guys are a mystery even to me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I so wasn’t in the mood for one of Jenna’s cryptic conversations right now. Speakers had their own unique brand of humor, one that I had a hard time getting on board with most of the time, mostly because I didn’t get it. As a Speaker, everything in Jenna’s world revolved around language because she has the ability to understand any language of any species. For her to say that Bryn and I had a language of our own that she didn’t even understand was only something she would find amusing.
Jenna’s gaze slid back over my shoulder, her eyes glazing over again. “Evan Thompson really is hot. All that lean golden muscle, topped with his golden brown hair, and chocolate eyes that I could melt into—Mmmm, mmm, mmmm—tasty. I would love to feel more than just his Gatekeeper magic sliding into me, if you know what I mean.”
“Hey,” I said with annoyance. “You
can pretty much date whoever you want. Don’t dip into my shallow pool.” I sighed, letting go of my hostility. “Not that it matters anyways; I have about as much of a chance with him as you do.”
Jenna raised one dark eyebrow at me. “Actually I do have a chance with him. At least if I’m only interested in getting into his pants.” She paused to flip her purple hair over her shoulder. “And darling, I most certainly am.”
I groaned. “Jenna, come on. You’re not going to sleep with him.”
“Who said anything about sleeping with him?” She giggled. “If I have my way with him, there definitely won’t be any sleeping involved.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled. And she would, Jenna was the type of girl who could just go up to a guy like Evan and offer him sex. Me . . . not so much. I was beginning to think I was the last card-carrying member of The Flying V Club in my entire school. Hell, I’d barely gotten to second base. I was definitely way behind my peers in the sexual experience department, even though it was by choice. I still had the same hormones pressuring me on a daily basis that my friends did, but I wanted something more than just the physical, call me crazy. And even though I daydreamed about a lot of guys, when it got down to it, I wasn’t really interested. Some days I envied Jenna, with her constantly changing hair color and brazen attitude towards life. She did whatever she felt like whenever the whim hit—again, me . . . not so much. I seemed to always fall victim to over-analyzing everything. I couldn’t do anything without dissecting it twenty different ways, and by that time, the opportunity to be spontaneous had passed me by.
