Twisted Magic (The Dhampyre Chronicles Book 2)

by Marissa Farrar

  We pulled up outside the station, and both detectives climbed from the car once more. The fog had completely gone now, and it was easy to imagine it had never been here at all. Wyman opened the rear door for me, and I climbed out, looking toward the police station door. My weariness from the events of the day and my lack of sleep the previous night was weighing down on me.

  I hoped my emotional tiredness wouldn’t impede upon my ability to lie to the police officers about just how much I knew.

  Chapter

  9

  Detective Rockmore showed me into an interview room at the back of the station. I ducked my head as I walked through, not appreciating the curious glances I was given. People would automatically assume I had done something wrong, but I hadn’t, at least not regarding this particular case. It wasn’t my fault I could see things others couldn’t.

  The detective gestured to one side of the interview desk, and I took a seat.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  I needed the caffeine hit, even if it wouldn’t last in my ridiculously high metabolism for long. “Coffee, please.” I added, “And a glass of water too, if that’s okay?” The experience in the back of the car had left my mouth bone dry, my teeth sticking to the inside of my lips, my tongue rough against the roof of my mouth. I expected him to send someone off to make me a cup, but instead he used a machine in the corner of the room, and gurgled some cold water into a paper cup from a dispenser.

  He pushed the cups across the table toward me and dropped into the chair opposite. “Again, let me say how sorry I am about your friend.”

  I nodded, and fresh tears filled my eyes. I took a gulp of the water to try to hide my emotions.

  “I’ve been told you were with Melissa the night before she died,” he continued, “on the very same beach where her body was found.”

  I wondered if he knew about the hidden cove. Had someone already told him and he was testing me? I had no intention of giving up any new information if I could help it. How I hated being so mistrustful all the time. I wished I could tell him everything, but I just couldn’t.

  Instead, I nodded again. “That’s right.”

  “I understand you were there to celebrate Dana Trestle’s birthday.”

  “Yeah. She turned twenty.”

  “And what did you all get up to?”

  I shrugged. “The usual. Girly stuff.”

  “Were you drinking?”

  I hesitated. There was no point in me lying. If they did a post-mortem on Melissa, they would surely test her blood for alcohol. “Yeah, we had a few drinks. Nothing too crazy, though.”

  He gave me a disapproving look, though he must have decided he had more important things to worry about. “Would you say Melissa was intoxicated?”

  “She’d had a few, but she wasn’t out of control or anything. She was just happy. We were having fun.” I tried to put out of my mind what had really happened that night. I felt like guilt was written all over me, even though my emotion had nothing to do with Melissa’s death … Did it?

  “And what time did you last see her that night?”

  “I left about ten p.m. One of the other girls, Laurel, gave me a ride.”

  “Back to your dorm?”

  “No, back to my boyfriend’s place.”

  “Where we picked you up from tonight?”

  “That’s right.”

  He glanced down at his notes. “And that’s Riley Driahd’s trailer? A young man who used to be part of the carnival that sets up here each year?”

  I nodded. “I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything.”

  “Just getting all our facts straight.” He glanced back down. “And Melissa was fine when you left the beach?”

  “Yes, of course!”

  “So you left her with Dana Trestle and Kayla Escobar?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what happened after that.” My stomach roiled with nerves as only partial truths spilled from my mouth. “Laurel gave me a ride back to Riley’s and then left us to go home herself. I stayed at Riley’s all night and he took me to class. The next I knew, a body had been found, and then you guys showed up telling me that Melissa had been killed.”

  Rockmore nodded, and scribbled something down.

  He slammed the folder shut and sat back in his chair. “Okay, well I think that’s everything. If you think of anything else that might be of use to us, please, do call.” He handed me his card, which I slipped into my pocket.

  “Sure.”

  “Can I give you a ride home?”

  I wondered, briefly, where exactly home was. “No, that’s fine.”

  “Please, I insist. There’s a dangerous person out there somewhere, and it’s getting late. A young woman such as yourself shouldn’t be wandering around so late at night on their own.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  We rode back to my dorm in silence. I remained tense, half-expecting the fog to return at any moment. My ears strained for any sound of the strange clicking, my mind turning over every possibility of what had caused it. Afternoon had blended into evening, and already it was starting to get dark. I was thankful for the safety of the detective’s car. I wasn’t easily spooked, but the events of the last twenty-four hours had left me shaken.

  Rockmore pulled up outside of my building. I climbed out and thanked him for the ride.

  He leaned across the seat toward me. “Remember to give me a call if you think of anything else.”

  I gave a half smile. “Will do.” And I slammed the car door shut.

  I started to move away at a brisk walk, which quickly turned into a jog. I pushed through the doors into my building and took the stairs two at a time. I wished I’d gone back to Riley’s instead of coming here. The dorm felt deserted and, despite my strengths, a sense of vulnerability washed over me.

  I walked into my room to find Brooke sitting on her bed, her arms wrapped around her legs. Brooke’s side of the room appeared personalized and lived in. Photographs and posters were stuck to her walls. Clothes draped across her chair and spewed from her dresser. The small refrigerator we were supposed to share would be filled with Brooke’s drinks and snacks, where my shelves wouldn’t contain so much as a carton of milk.

  A pang of something went through me—regret? Was I missing out on my college experience by practically living at Riley’s? All I’d ever wanted was to be accepted as a normal college-girl, yet here I was behaving in a way that segregated me from everyone else.

  She lifted her face to me as I entered, at first startled, her eyes wide in alarm, but then relaxing again as she saw only her normally absent roommate. Her eyes had the red-rimmed look that had become so common on the female students of Sage Springs and her face was pale.

  I guessed she’d found out about Melissa.

  “Hey,” I said.

  She gave a sniff. “Hey. I wasn’t expecting you back.”

  “I heard about Melissa,” I said, moving to my side of the room to take a seat on my bed. “I figured it would be best for me to be back here with everything going on.”

  She sniffed again and nodded. “Thanks. I must admit, it’s good to have some company.”

  I felt bad for Brooke. Ever since the incident out by the pools, where we’d lied to her and told her she’d been sleepwalking, she’d distanced herself from the rest of us. Even Kayla, who she’d previously been friendly with, now found herself on the sideline. We didn’t know if Brooke avoiding us was due to embarrassment, or if, despite claiming she remembered nothing of what had happened, she instinctively knew there was something different about the rest of us and so was keeping her distance. The thing was, she didn’t appear to have made any other friends either. The only person she really hung out with was Erin, one of the girls we’d met during the first few days on campus, but I wasn’t even sure if Erin had been around much lately. The confident, if somewhat snarky girl had vanished, and a shyer, more self-conscious version had replaced her. I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t played my
part in her change.

  “So, how are you doing?” I asked, feeling like I needed to make conversation.

  She shook her head. “I’ve been better. I mean, I shouldn’t say that, ‘cause of the awful thing that happened to poor Melissa, but things have been feeling really weird around here.”

  I leaned forward, frowning. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not even sure. It’s going to sound crazy.”

  “Try me.”

  She opened her mouth, as if planning on telling me what was on her mind, and then shut it again.

  “Please, Brooke. I want to know.”

  She glanced down at her lap, where her hands wrung against each other. “I’ve been feeling like someone’s watching me.”

  “What? How long for?”

  “Just the last couple of days. It’s stupid, but I was out near the beach when the fog came in the other day, and even though I got in my car, I felt like someone was watching me through it. I heard this weird sound, and at first I thought something was wrong with the car, but now I’m not so sure. I heard it again, here, when the fog was in earlier, and I thought it was coming from outside the window.”

  I glanced toward our window. We were several stories up.

  She put her face in her hands. “Oh, God, what if I’m just going crazy? Maybe it’s connected to the sleepwalking thing and I’m imagining things when I am awake!”

  I experienced a fresh pang of guilt—we’d been the ones to put the sleepwalking idea into her head so she wouldn’t need to learn what had really gone on at the pools that night. “The fog is disorienting,” I said, remembering what Riley had told me. “It distorts sounds so you might have been hearing something from miles away.” I wasn’t sure why I didn’t tell her I’d also heard the noise and sensed something else in the fog. I just knew I wasn’t sure who I could trust right now, and Brooke had never been at the top of my trustworthy list.

  She shook her head, her sheet of blonde hair shimmering around her shoulders. “I don’t know. It sounded so close. And then there was the feeling that I wasn’t alone.” Tears had filled her limpid blue eyes. “Maybe I am going crazy. But now with this news about Melissa …”

  “Are you sure you’re not just feeling this way because of what happened to Melissa? It would be normal to feel like you’re freaking out right now.”

  She shook her head again. “No. It started yesterday, before Melissa was even—” Her voice broke.

  I got up and moved to sit beside her on her bed. I reached out to rub her shoulder to comfort her. The moment my hand made contact with her skin, the sense of running filled my head. Running in a blind panic, turning to peer over her shoulder, stumbling over a root or a rock.

  I snatched my hand away.

  “What?” she said. “What’s wrong?”

  Brooke didn’t know anything about my half-vampire side, or my prophetic nature. We’d managed to keep everything hidden from her, and she knew nothing about the circle of witches or Riley and Flynn being elementals.

  “Sorry,” I said, “I’m just feeling a bit freaked out by this whole thing as well. I had to go down to the police station and answer some questions.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why?”

  “Oh, just because we were with Melissa last night. The cops wanted to know if anyone suspicious was hanging around, or if she’d seemed upset about anything.”

  “Who is ‘we’?”

  It suddenly dawned on me that I was going to have to reveal about us gathering on the beach for Dana’s birthday, and that by doing so I would also be letting Brooke know that she hadn’t been invited.

  “It was Dana’s birthday,” I admitted. “She didn’t want a fuss. Just a couple of us hanging out on the beach.”

  The disappointment in Brooke’s face was obvious as she glanced away. “Oh, right.”

  I felt wretched. “It was nothing, really.”

  I almost felt like telling her about the massive argument Dana and I had to make her feel better, but I’d be opening a can of worms, and once I opened that one, I knew I’d never be able to get the lid back on again.

  I faked a yawn, but it turned into a real one. “Anyway, I need to get some sleep.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  Wracked with guilt, I took myself off to bed.

  I was running again. My feet pounded on the rough terrain, my sneakers snagged by twigs and overgrown brambles, tearing free as I raced through. My heart beat hard, my breath rasping in and out of my lungs in frantic gasps. My lungs and throat burned.

  I glanced back over my shoulder to spot who was chasing me, but though the canopy of trees above my head allowed a little of the moon’s light to slant through its leaves, I’d never see another person. Instead, a wall of white approached me, fog slipping between the trees and rolling across the forest floor. I got the sense of movement in the fog, but the person’s identity was shielded by the thick mist.

  Whatever else happened, I didn’t want the fog to touch me.

  I ran blindly on, my hands whipping away at overhanging branches. Movement came behind me, feet crashing through the undergrowth. My panic mounted, convinced I would feel a hand grab my shoulder at any moment.

  At the same time, an overwhelming sense of déjà-vu swept over me. I’d dreamed this before, I was sure of it. And yes, I knew it was a dream, despite being caught in the middle of it. I tried to find the place in my mind that would explain more, but the sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling grew louder. I gave a little whimper of fear, and kept running. I had no idea where I was or where I headed, I only needed to put more distance between myself and whoever was chasing me.

  Suddenly, the natural path I’d been following seemed to be swallowed by overgrown bushes. With no other choice, I pushed my way through them, brambles catching at my skin. My progress had slowed considerably, and tears of alarm scorched in my eyes and blurred my vision. I was sure the fog would swallow me at any moment, and whatever it contained would kill me. I tried to use my hands to help fight through the undergrowth, but I knew it wasn’t enough. The track I’d created by running through first would not only guide my attacker to my exact location, but would also make it easier for them to pass through.

  A particularly large bramble caught my arm, needles shredding my skin and catching in my clothes. I cried out, but not for long. Breath came, freezing cold, behind my ear, and hands cut off my cry.

  I reached up, battering at the strong fingers around my throat, but my struggles were useless. Fog crept around my feet, sliding up my legs. I already knew how this story ended …

  Chapter

  10

  The next morning, my dream clung to me like a black cloud. It had been so similar to the dream I’d had of Melissa, only with the location of the forest instead of the beach. I hoped my mind had simply replayed the previous night’s footage, but blended it with the location of my experience with Bulldog Mackenzie and the pools, rather than the dream signaling another murder. The possibility of someone else being dead wedged in the pit of my stomach like a rock. I didn’t want to think about it, preferring instead to convince myself the dream had been like anyone else’s.

  I walked into my first class, Math with Dr. Spencer, feeling self-conscious. I wondered if the other students would know I’d been taken into the police station to answer questions about Melissa’s murder. The detective had dropped me off, but the car was unmarked, so the only other way they’d know would be if Brooke had been spreading rumors already, which I wouldn’t have put past her.

  I kept my head down and found a seat near the back. A strange mood filled the lecture theatre, a somber atmosphere with an undercurrent of morbid excitement. Those who hadn’t known Melissa probably thought a murder in Sage Springs to be the most exciting thing that had happened since attending college, and they were all too young to give their own mortality much more than a passing thought.

  Dr. Spencer stood on the small stage and lifted his hands. The audience’s low mutterings fell
into silence and everyone’s eyes were drawn toward him.

  “I’m sure most of you know by now that, tragically, Melissa Wilder was killed yesterday, in the early hours. I realize this is a difficult time for you all, particularly those who were close to her. That such a young, promising life can be taken so cruelly is a tragedy for us all. If you feel you have been so badly affected by this that it’s going to impact on your studies, please come and speak to me.”

  I had the feeling some of the slacker students who hadn’t even known Melissa would be putting this to their own advantage.

  He continued, “There will also be a counselor available for all students, so please, make use of her if you need to.” He cleared his throat and looked down at his notes as if he’d made them on this particular speech rather than the lesson. “In the meantime, please be careful. Until this killer is found, I ask you to try to get back to your dorm rooms before dark, and stay in pairs at all times. Do not go anywhere on your own, in particular areas that are unpopulated, such as the forests or the beach.”

  I suddenly remembered the flash I’d gotten of him when we were in the coffee shop the previous day, the image in my head of him running. I remembered how branches had lashed at him as his breath heaved in and out of his lungs. I remembered the feeling that he’d either been being chased or that he was the one doing the chasing.

  I yanked myself from my thoughts. No, Dr. Spencer had given me no other reason to suspect him. Here he was, warning us to stay away from certain areas, telling us to stay in pairs for our own safety. Unless he simply didn’t want us going near those areas because he knew that would be where he’d take his victim and he didn’t want to be seen.

  Rubbing at my eyes with the balls of my hands, I wearily shook my head at myself. This was crazy. I couldn’t accuse my teacher of murdering my friend simply because of a flash I’d gotten from him. Hadn’t I had almost the same insight about Brooke? Yet I wasn’t picturing her as a murderer.