by Kelly Oram
After she joined me again, she collected herself and smiled brightly. “Now that that’s over, on to item of business number two. Boyfriend!” She rubbed her hands together eagerly.
I was thrilled that for once Cyn’s matchmaking attempts didn’t include Ethan, but I wasn’t really in the mood to play along after learning about Preston’s fate. It wasn’t until that moment I realized I was crushing on the intense senior.
Cynthia saw my frown and stomped her foot. “No way, Grace. We’re doing this, and I’ll tell you why. None of the people here go to Atherton, so all they know about you is that you’re the awesome human who can handle the truth. See how everyone is watching you? All you have to do is take your pick.”
That startled me. I looked around and, sure enough, everyone was watching me, whether staring outright or glancing from the corners of their eyes. Everyone except for one boy standing across the fire from me. He was staring distantly into the flames just like Cynthia had done, drinking something blue that was glowing in the dark.
Of all the kids there, I’d singled him out almost immediately. I’m not sure why, but it felt as if I could sense his presence. It felt like I knew him. “Who’s that?” I asked. “Do we know him from somewhere? He seems familiar.”
Cynthia followed my gaze and frowned. “I’ve never seen him before. He’s hot, though. Good choice, Gracie. I approve.”
I wasn’t “picking” him, but if Preston really was a lost cause, then I supposed I didn’t see the harm in meeting the stranger.
“He’s not a werewolf, which is probably better for you,” Cynthia mused. “And he’s definitely not a vampire, so that’s a plus. I’m sorry, Gracie, but vampires are so not an option. Please, for my sake.”
I thought again of Andrew and shuddered. “Not a problem.”
“I guess he could be a nephilim.” That made me frown, so Cynthia quickly backtracked. “Maybe he’s a warlock. Or a necromancer—that would be cool. Necros are really rare and super fun for scaring people you hate, if they have any sense of humor. Ghosts are usually so happy to have someone to talk to that they’ll gladly help you haunt your enemies.”
I continued to watch the boy. He was really good-looking, but his looks were understated compared to Ethan or the Laytons. I liked that. Too beautiful like Ethan is annoying, and the Laytons are just so…intimidating.
This boy looked about my age and was a lot taller than me—not that most people aren’t a lot taller than me. I’d guess six foot one, maybe. He looked lean, like Ethan. He was well-defined but not as muscled as Caleb or Preston—another plus in my book. He had light brown hair that was just the tiniest bit shaggy, and even from across the fire and in the dark I could see that his eyes were light—probably blue. They were beautiful eyes. “Familiar,” I said again, unable to shake the feeling.
Cynthia shook her head again. “I would remember meeting him. Something about him is intriguing, though.”
I nodded. “He looks so sad. Whoever he is, he’s got a story.”
“He’s mysterious,” Cynthia agreed.
“He’s beautiful.”
As if he could feel my eyes on him, the boy shook himself from his daze and met my stare. Something flashed in his eyes. He mouthed a single word that I didn’t understand, and then he abruptly disappeared into the crowd behind him.
Cynthia and I exchanged a look. “That was weird,” I said. “I wonder what happened.”
“He recognized you, that’s what.” Cynthia jumped up and pulled me to my gimpy feet. “Come on!” she whispered urgently. “We have to find Ethan.”
“Why?”
“That guy is a stranger, and I don’t like the way he looked at you. He could be the person who tried to kill you. We need to find Ethan.”
I supposed her logic made sense, but the accusation didn’t sit well with me. “I don’t think so, Cyn. I think he just recognized me. I’m telling you, it feels like I know him.”
The crowd was thick and the ground was soft, so thanks to my crutches we’d only managed to get, like, ten feet before I felt someone behind me. Inexplicably, I knew it was him. I could feel him close. It was as if my soul yearned for him—as if he were a piece of me I’d lost long ago and we were finally being reunited.
I shivered. Could he be my soul mate? I’d never believed those existed—but then I’d never believed in werewolves or vampires, either.
I turned around to greet him, ask him who he was, and if he felt the same way I did, but all logical thought left me as I got caught in his stare. His beautiful, sad eyes drank in the sight of me as though he thought I was a dream. The only word I could push from my chest was a breathless “Hi.”
The boy dropped the cup in his hand and stepped toward me, making my heart speed up in a way it never had before. “I knew you’d find me,” he said, and then suddenly his lips crashed down on mine.
I should have pulled away. The boy was a stranger after all, and I’d been down that road before. But the way this boy kissed me was pure bliss. It was gentle and rough and angry and loving all at the same time. His hands were in my hair and on my cheeks, memorizing everything about me, and then they were around my waist, trapping me against his body. Yes, I should have pulled away and slapped him. Instead, I melted. Sighing against his mouth, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back.
As soon as he felt me respond, his desperation morphed into something so raw and sincere it brought moisture to my eyes. I doubted anyone had ever been kissed quite like this. I didn’t understand it, but if true love could be a kiss, then this was it. My knees gave out, but that didn’t end the kiss. The boy simply held me up and whispered, “I love you, Dani.”
Wait, what? Who?
“I’m sorry, I…You…” I tried to say more, but my head was swimming.
He waited, but when I couldn’t finish my sentence he got impatient. “You’re forgiven,” he insisted, and started kissing me again. I made no attempt to stop him.
All too soon, we were ripped apart and I was thrown into Cynthia’s arms so fast she barely managed to catch me. “Damn, girl,” she muttered.
“Huh?” I asked, trying to wake up from the greatest dream I’d ever experienced. “What happened?”
I looked up just in time to see Caleb punch my mystery boy so hard the guy flew back ten feet.
“Caleb!”
Caleb stalked toward the stranger, who was slowly picking himself up off the ground.
“Let me go!” I screamed at Cynthia when I realized she was holding me back. “Caleb, don’t!”
“What the hell?” the boy asked.
“Stay away from her!”
“What?” The boy was so confused. He looked at me with a giant frown. “Who is this asshole?” he asked me, his speech slightly slurred. Whatever the blue drink he’d been drinking was, it was a strong one.
Caleb punched the boy again and this time it pissed him off. He jumped to his feet with a string of profanity and shouted something in Latin. With a fling of his hands Caleb went flying backward, and when he landed he was out cold.
The crowd had just enough time to gasp before Ethan flew at the stranger and the two went tumbling to the ground. They wrestled and I watched in awe as the mystery boy put up an amazing fight even though he clearly didn’t have Ethan’s strength or speed. He used magic to keep from getting pummeled and even managed a few damaging blows of his own. Finally Ethan had him pinned to the ground, a knife at his throat.
“Ethan!” I screamed. “Don’t!”
Ethan looked up at me and the boy used the distraction to cast a spell that froze Ethan in place. The boy rolled Ethan off of him and plucked the blade from his hand. He climbed to his feet, spitting a tiny bit of blood, and threw the knife to the grass. “I win.”
I think everyone present was just as surprised as I was that the stranger had beaten Ethan. Whoever this guy was, he was amazing.
“You cheated,” Ethan spat. “In a fair fight, I’d kill you.”
The boy
smirked. “Fighting a nephilim without my magic wouldn’t be a fair fight. I have my skills. You have yours. Mine are better. So tell me—who are you and what the hell is your problem?”
The boy didn’t seem drunk anymore. And Ethan didn’t answer his question. “What do you want with Grace?”
I reached them just in time to hear the boy ask, “Who’s Grace?”
“Ethan, relax. He didn’t mean any harm. He mistook me for someone else. That’s all. I think he’s a little drunk.”
“Don’t be so gullible, Grace. Didn’t you learn your lesson last time?”
That stung, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it because the boy gasped. His face had gone white and he dropped the magical hold he had on Ethan. He stared, unable to take his eyes off of me.
The second Ethan could move again, he quickly scooped up his knife and grabbed me by the arm. He tried to push me behind him but my glare stopped him. “Chill out, Ethan! It was just a mistake!”
“What he did to Caleb was not a mistake!”
“Caleb punched him. Twice! He was only defending himself.”
“He’s a warlock, Grace. As in a magic user?” Ethan groaned at my confusion. “Someone used magic to try and kill you the other day. Or have you forgotten?”
I rolled my eyes. “If he wanted to kill me, there are more effective ways to do it than by kissing me.”
I wasn’t sure that was true, considering the way my heart was pounding in my chest. The stranger’s kiss had it racing so fast it was in danger of giving out. On the bright side, if he was trying to end my life, death by super, fantastic, amazing, epic kiss has to be the best way to go.
“Are you blushing?” Ethan sounded disgusted.
He was right, though. My face was flaming. I peeked at the stranger and found him still gaping at me. When our eyes met he shook his head as if to clear it. “Impossible,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. And I was sorry. For more reasons than he knew. More reasons than I should be. “I tried to tell you. I don’t know who Dani is, but I’m not her.”
To say the boy looked devastated was an understatement. For a brief moment he looked as if his anguish were literally tearing him apart. He swallowed it quickly, though, and his sadness turned to wonder. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” Ethan demanded.
It wasn’t the boy who answered him. Aimee had pushed her way to the front of the crowd, threatening to end the party if people didn’t relax. Clara was with her and ran straight to Ethan.
The stranger looked startled to see her, but then his eyes narrowed. “Clara Laroche?” he said mockingly. “Why am I not surprised?”
I’d never heard anyone use more disdain, but the fact that the boy didn’t like Clara made me want to kiss him again.
“Russ?” Clara gasped.
Russ. It wasn’t what I’d expected, but somehow it still fit him.
“Long time no see, Clare-bear.” Russ used the nickname as though it were a taunt and not an endearment. He looked at the way Clara clung to Ethan and shook his head. “You haven’t changed much.”
It was obvious these two had a history. I wondered what their story was and was surprised at how insanely jealous I felt. At least whatever they’d had didn’t end well. Clara’s face flushed red and the wind kicked up in response to her anger. “What are you doing here?” she shouted.
“Looking for the resistance,” Russ answered. “And considering that whore you call a mom is one of them, it seems I’ve come to the right place.”
Clara screamed and started to lunge at Russ but Ethan grabbed her. “Clara! Stop! What’s going on? Who is he?”
“His name is Russ Devereaux.”
I had no idea why she emphasized his last name, but plenty of people in the crowd understood the significance. There were a few murmurs of wonder and excitement, but mostly there was suspicion. Especially from Ethan, Cynthia, and Preston. Preston flanked Ethan as if they were preparing to rip Russ apart.
Russ appraised them and then cast a wistful glance at me. I blushed, remembering the way I’d eagerly kissed him back. He watched me a moment longer and then glared at Clara. “Tell your mom I’m looking for her.”
And then he vanished.
When I woke up in the morning I found Russ sitting at the foot of my bed, watching me sleep. “Don’t freak out,” he said quickly when my eyes got big.
I was so shocked my answer came out barely a whisper. “Okay.”
I sat up against my headboard and waited for him to say something. I knew I should be frightened, but I couldn’t conjure up any fear.
Who was he? Why was he here? How was he causing so many butterflies in my stomach? Before I could voice any of these questions, he frowned. “Really?” he asked. “Okay? That’s it? Wow, that was easy.”
I shrugged. “You breaking into my room is probably the least scary thing that’s happened to me this week.”
He looked intrigued by my confession but didn’t ask. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“Again, not the most horrible thing I’ve experienced this week,” I admitted, blushing.
Russ attempted a smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “I honestly thought you were her,” he said.
I nodded my understanding. That had been obvious last night. As was the fact that my resemblance to whomever he was talking about was causing him pain now. It was heartbreaking.
“Do I really look that much like her?”
Russ pulled an iPhone from his pocket and passed it to me with a grim expression. The face that stared back at me from the display startled me. It was mine. Mine exactly.
“You’re right,” I breathed. “It’s impossible.”
We were practically identical, and yet completely different at the same time. The girl in the picture looked so energetic, so full of life. Even though it was ridiculous, it felt like a blow to my gut. I could never compare to her. She had a spirit that practically radiated out of the picture. It was no wonder Russ had kissed me with so much passion. This girl probably gave him five times that passion on a regular basis.
The picture was of the two of them standing on the shore of a small lake. She was soaked head to toe as if she’d been thrown in the water by force, and he was covered with mud like she’d found a nice way to retaliate the attack. They stood with their arms around each other, looking like that single snap shot was the greatest moment in their entire lives.
“You look good together.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Russ’s expression clouded over. “We were,” he whispered.
“Were?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, wishing there were something I could do to stop his obvious suffering.
“Not particularly.”
“Then do you mind if I ask what you’re doing here?”
“You look exactly like her.” He studied me again for a moment and then corrected himself. “Almost.” He smirked. “She’d kill to have your hair. Hers is the same color but with crazy curls. She hates them, but they’re very fitting. Stubborn and unruly, just like she is.”
He flipped to the next picture in his phone. A close-up of her with her hair dry. I’ve always envied people with curls, but even I had to admit that head of hair was probably a pain.
I could see her face so much more clearly in this picture and it held me in a trance. How was it possible? I started flipping through all of the pictures automatically and stopped on a curious one of her standing on a water tower that had been spray painted to say “Deputy McHale lives with his mom.”
I didn’t think much of it until I noticed the proud smile and the canister of paint in the girl’s hand. I glanced at Russ and he grinned. “She needed a little cheering up that day.”
The smile that spread across Russ’s face was tragically beautiful. So much for the theory that he was my soul mate—he’d clearly already found his.
His smile faded quickly and he pocke
ted the phone. “I followed you home because I had to find out who you were, but I stayed because there’s something different about you, too, and that can’t be coincidence. Who are you?”
His voice was accusing but I don’t think he was angry at me.
“I’m nobody special,” I said. “My name is Grace. I’m an only child. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and the only thing I’m good at is schoolwork.”
Russ frowned. “What kind of supernatural are you?”
I gave a hard laugh. “I’m not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not a supernatural.”
I thought everyone was exaggerating about humans not accepting the truth, but the idea of me not being supernatural was so impossible to this boy that it took him a minute to get what I was saying.
In the light, I could finally see the full color of his eyes—the most beautiful crystal blue. I was staring into those eyes the moment understanding hit them. “You’re human?”
He showed a mixture of horror, and wonder, and something else I couldn’t identify. The way he gaped at me made my cheeks burn. “Like I said,” I mumbled into my lap, “nobody special.”
“You can’t be human!”
“Trust me. I’m as human as it gets. So human, it’s pathetic. My nickname at school is actually Disgrace.”
“But you’re different.” Russ was still shaking his head. “It’s like I can feel you. There’s something about you that’s very…calming.”
I smiled to myself. “That’s what Cynthia always says.”
He looked so unsettled that I took in his appearance a little more closely. He was pale with dark, puffy bags beneath his eyes. As I studied him he blinked heavily. “Did you sit here awake all night?” I asked. “Because—no offense—you look like a train wreck.”
Russ smiled grimly. “It’s been a long week.”
I knew the feeling. “When’s the last time you slept?”
