Lucid, YA Paranormal Romance (Brightest Kind of Darkness Series, Book #2)

by Patrice Michelle

  Even though I felt a twinge of guilt that he still believed me to be “the one,” I couldn’t help but smile at his nice voice mail. I enjoyed my time with him very much. Visiting him was one of the first things I would do with Ethan when he got back.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Woof woof woof woof woof woof woof!

  I jerked awake, arms flailing, heart thudding in panic mode. Houdini’s bark was so deep and alarming that I glanced around the room, expecting to see flames, a flood, the roof missing, or something equally catastrophic. Houdini snarl-barked again, this time throwing himself against my window. Wow, and I thought his size was intimidating. His roaring bark would scare the pee out of just about anyone!

  “The roosters are barely up, Nara,” Mom’s sleepy voice floated down the hall. “Keep him quiet.”

  I rushed over and gripped his thick collar, hauling him back from the glass. “Hush, Houdini!”

  Patch stood on the ledge on the other side of the window, tilting his head back and forth. He gave an unimpressed squawk, then pressed his eye close to the clear surface before hammer-pecking three times, like he always did when he wanted in.

  Houdini gave a low rumbling growl deep in his throat. He literally vibrated with the need to defend. Defend? My gaze slid back to the glass as realization dawned. That’s exactly what Patch had done the other day. The bird wasn’t being mean or temperamental when he wouldn’t let me get in my car. He was protecting me. If I’d come home at that time on that particular day, I would have encountered the intruder stealing Ethan’s book from my house.

  “No, Houdini,” I said in a firm tone and released him to see how he’d react once freed. Instead of lunging at the glass, he turned brown eyes my way for direction.

  Anxious to stop something I’d seen in my dream last night, I glanced at my clock. Six thirty. This afternoon, Gran would fall from a tree on the Westminster property and break her arm. She’d explained to me how it happened while they were putting on her cast. “Clara didn’t believe I climbed into your window on the second floor, so I had to show her I was still quite capable.”

  I was really starting to not like this Clara person. I pressed my lips together as I stared at Patch, who was impatiently bobbing his head up and down, winding up to hammer on the window again.

  It was too early to call Gran and tell her not to climb that tree (that was one benefit of Gran knowing about my gift. I didn’t have to convince her that it would happen), so I approached the window and said under my breath, “I’m probably going to regret this, but I have to see if we’re all going to get along.”

  I was impressed when Houdini didn’t immediately attack Patch once he flew into the room. He watched the bird with wild, wary eyes and a snarling lift of his lip, but once he saw me set out a piece of kibble for Patch, he immediately whimpered and gave me puppy eyes.

  I tossed him some pieces, which seemed to calm his raging beast.

  Whereas Houdini kept one eye on Patch’s movements at all times, the raven seemed to adopt an I’m-going-to-pretend-that-big-animal-isn’t-here attitude. Patch focused on the raven statue on my nightstand, making low gurgling noises and bobbing his head up and down as if in deep conversation with the mute bird.

  While I tossed a few more pieces of kibble to Houdini, Patch opened my jewelry box on my nightstand and had already removed several of my necklaces.

  “Patch!” The bird let out a crooooack and flew over to my desk as I quickly moved to untangle the mess he’d made of my chains. I held up the necklace Aunt Sage had encouraged me to create to help me retrieve my dreams. Gripping the blue crystal hanging from it, I told Patch, “If it weren’t for this necklace and Ethan’s help, I never would’ve been able to tell Fate to back off from his ‘Nara must die for interfering’ vendetta. Shiny things might attract you, but claws off!”

  I carefully set the necklace back in my jewelry box on top of the bangle cuff Aunt Sage had given me when I turned thirteen, then retrieved my grandmother’s journal to get some more reading in before I had to take a shower.

  When Houdini let out a light bark forty minutes later, I looked up to see Patch pulling the crystal necklace from its new drawer. “Patch…” I began with a sigh as I stood.

  He glanced at me, then lifted the chain with his beak. He’d protected me the other day. It wouldn’t hurt to humor him. I looped the chain several times around the raven statue’s neck, resting the crystal on the bird’s chest. “Now you can see it but can’t take off with it. Happy?” In answer, Patch fluffed his wings and approached the raven, eyeing the chain with pleased guttural sounds.

  Patch started to tug at the chain with his beak, then he turned around and made an annoyed raaaack sound at Houdini. Apparently, the dog was too close.

  “Okay, boys! Enough tolerance testing for one day. Time for you to go, Patch. I need to get a shower.” Once I’d opened my window, I spun a quarter and watched with amusement at Houdini’s bark of alarm when Patch snatched up the coin like a desperate kid in an arcade.

  * * *

  As I made my way to the park to meet with Drystan, my whole body was one tense ball of nerves. I felt guilty that I was already fifteen minutes late, but it’s not like I could call or text Drystan and let him know I was delayed. An hour and a half earlier, I’d been in the Starbucks drive-through line, waiting for my coffee, when I tried to call Gran. Fate decided to zap my phone the moment I hit Send. I gave the guy at the drive-through window quite a show when I screamed and threw my phone into the floorboard of my car.

  I’d had no choice but to drive to Westminster, which didn’t open its main gates until eight. I got shocked when I pushed the button on the retirement community gates’ entrance. Another shock when I picked up the pen at the main desk to sign in. Yet another shock when I had to pull open the door that led to the elevators. To keep from grinding my teeth to nubs while waiting for the next electrical jolt, I bumped the elevator button with my elbow and knocked on Gran’s door with the toe of my shoe.

  By the time she rustled herself out of bed, and then insisted on calling Clara over for me to tell her neighbor the story how Gran had most definitely climbed to the second story of our house, my hair was so full of electricity, the entire top layer floated around my head like a halo of gnats. I refused to touch either Gran or Clara for fear I’d give them cardiac arrest. I left as fast as I could, but it was already five after nine.

  As I turned into the main entrance of the park, I tried to think of the best way to deal with Fate’s twisted form of shock therapy. Had he totally fried my phone? I grabbed it from my backpack and hit the On button. Thankfully it powered back to life. I set my jaw as I slipped it back in my pack. Even though my phone was fine, I saw another showdown with Fate in my not-too-distant future.

  Ethan had helped me make Fate back off in the past. Would we be able to make him leave me alone again? Ethan hadn’t liked me interfering with others’ lives before, and since my life wasn’t in jeopardy this time, would he even agree to help if he thought that me facing off with Fate in my dreams was a bigger risk to my life than an occasional shock? I honestly wasn’t sure what Ethan would say.

  You need to let me do this on my own, Nara.

  Ethan’s comment when he’d learned I was at the raven sanctuary had really hurt. I’d tried not to think too hard about what he meant by it, but with Fate up to new tricks, I couldn’t help but think about him.

  Did Ethan think I was pushing him with the ravens? That wasn’t my intent, but now that I’d had such an amazing emotional experience with him through the ravens at the sanctuary, I desperately wanted to record my thoughts about it in Ethan’s journal. Not to mention, I wanted to jot down notes on the mysterious book Freddie had tried to give me. My heart ached that all the work I’d done…all the information I’d collected was lost.

  Lost!

  When the realization hit me, I felt like smacking my forehead against my steering wheel. Drystan had proven his ability to find lost things. Could he help
me retrieve Ethan’s journal? I missed my daily experience of working on it. Just like I missed my special time with Ethan.

  Would Drystan be able to see it? Maybe his powers were different from mine and he wouldn’t be blocked from seeing the leather book like I was. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, while I considered how I could possibly ask Drystan to help me locate Ethan’s book yet still keep my ability and Ethan’s a secret. Guilt made my shoulders ache as I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

  As I turned into the park’s entrance, I decided that if I asked for Drystan’s help, it was only fair that I told him about my own ability in return. It’s what he wanted to know. I could still keep Ethan’s power to myself. But what if I shared with Drystan, only to discover that he couldn’t “see” Ethan’s book either? I’d be risking telling another person about my ability for nothing.

  “You’re late,” Drystan said in a curt tone from his leaning position against Matt’s Jeep.

  I rolled up my cracked window, then stepped out of my car and held up my Starbuck’s cup. “Sorry. The drive-through line was extra long this morning.” Skimming my gaze past Drystan’s bed-head hair (Why couldn’t I roll out of bed and look that good? So not fair!) to his thin black zip-up jacket and track pants with three stripes down the sides, I shivered in my thick fleece, sweatshirt and sweatpants. “Aren’t you cold?” I wished my coffee was still warm as I wrapped my fingerless-gloved hands around the cup.

  Drystan’s green gaze turned icy as he stared at my cup. “Does that have milk and sugar in it?”

  “Of course.” Just as I started to take another sip, he took the cup and dumped what was left. I scowled. He didn’t say anything about my drink in my dream. “What was that for?”

  Jaw set, he handed me the empty cup. “Black coffee only before sessions. Water is preferred. I was going to work on something else with you…” he began, then turned and opened the trunk of the Jeep, where he retrieved a foldable six-foot ladder.

  As he walked off toward the park without another word, I glared after his retreating back and called out, “You owe me a latte!” If water had been so important, he’d have said something in my dream. Why did I feel like I was being punished?

  When I realized he wasn’t going to acknowledge my complaint, I put the empty cup in my car, grabbed my backpack, then ran after him, grumbling, “I’ll tell you what’s preferred.”

  Drystan had entered the woods on a footpath. I followed, but kept my less-than-happy thoughts to myself. In my dream last night, we’d gone running for a couple of miles, then we’d worked on some self-defense moves. Now that I’d shown up late and apparently pissed him off, Drystan had changed his plans. My training session was blind now. Ugh!

  He’s doing this to help you, I repeated to myself over and over, but I frowned as I followed him deeper into the woods, leaves crunching under my shoes. “Why are you doing this, Drystan?” I asked the back of his head. I needed to know he wasn’t planning to leave me lost in the woods, expecting me to find my way back as some kind of twisted punishment.

  “Because you need it,” he shot back in a terse tone as he veered off the path into the thick woods.

  I stumbled over a root, but managed to catch myself as I followed suit. “No, seriously. Why?”

  Drystan stopped so abruptly that I ran into his back. I took a step back and met his serious gaze as he turned around and set the ladder down on the ground next to a tree.

  “This is about trust, Nara. You obviously have trust issues. So we’re going to work on those.”

  “What are you talk—”

  “I can tell you were lying to me about why you were late,” he cut in, his lips tight.

  I stiffened and snapped my mouth shut. I didn’t want to get into an argument. Instead I glanced at the woods all around us. We’d reached a slight clearing about fifty feet wide where only a few trees stood. “I thought this was about learning self-defense.”

  Drystan smirked, the first glimmer of amusement he’d shown. In his current mood, I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

  “It is, but first we have to start with balance.” He turned his gaze upward, then jumped up and pulled on a flat, inch-wide elastic line that had been strung about seven feet up between the tree next to him and another tree thirty feet away. As it bounced up and down, he said, “This is called a slackline. It’s great for working on balance.”

  Drystan dug the ladder’s legs into the ground against the tree. When he held his hand out as if he expected me to climb the rungs, I shook my head in fast jerks. “No way! There aren’t any cushions under that—that piece of thread you’ve got stretched between two trees. There’s no padding. No safety net. I’m not getting on there.”

  “It’s flexible nylon and it’s not going to snap on you.”

  I smacked his outstretched hand. “That doesn’t change the fact there’s nothing under it to catch me when, not if, when I fall.”

  His lips tilted in a confident smile. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  He’d totally laid on the accent with that last statement. I folded my arms. “You’re not charming me up on that line. I like my legs and neck just the way they are. Unbroken.”

  Drystan lowered his hand and climbed the ladder. He gripped the tree branch near his head, ducked under it, then stepped onto the nylon. The flexible line dipped with his weight, proving my biggest fear; every movement was like walking on a thin trampoline.

  My stomach took a dive as he scooched out farther from the tree. I found myself subconsciously moving with him. I even held my hand up for him to grab, which made no logical sense, considering his outstretched hands were a good four feet higher than the line’s seven-foot height. Despite my apprehension, Drystan stayed perfectly balanced as if he were walking on a two-by-four.

  “Don't use your legs to balance. Only use your upper body and hips, like this,” he said, demonstrating as he moved forward toward the middle. “When you first get up here, stay close to the tree until you feel more comfortable. There’s less movement of the line there. Once you start forward, be sure to bend your knees and keep your chest forward. That’ll help you maintain balance.”

  After he made it to the middle of the line, he jumped up and down a couple of times, then twisted a hundred eighty degrees in the air. He landed on the line with a shock-absorbing give of his legs, facing the opposite direction. He bounced up and down, and reversed his position, facing me once more with a wide grin. “See, it’s not so bad.”

  He made it look too easy, which I knew was a big fat lie. It was like a sniper telling me I could hit my target from a quarter mile away on a windy day with the sun in my eyes. No problem. My only response was to scowl at him.

  “Nara…” Drystan gave a slight hop and dropped onto his butt on the thin piece of nylon, his legs dangling.

  On instinct, I grabbed his legs to keep him from falling backward.

  A smug smile tugged his lips even as he rolled his eyes. “How do you think I was able to push myself off that stairwell wall and land back on the railing without falling off?” he asked, his voice softer now.

  “You have a retractable cord in your belly?” Irritated that I’d worried for nothing, I released him and took a step back. “Either that or you’re part cat.”

  Drystan chuckled and bounced back to a standing position. With a big swooping jump, he tucked into a backward flip to land on the ground in a crouch. He quickly stood, then walked over to me.

  “Show-off,” I muttered.

  He smirked. “Learning how to quickly regain balance in combat situations as well as how to land so that you won’t get hurt are aspects you should learn along with self-defense techniques. I’m going to teach you how to defend yourself, but you should also know how to get away, Nara.

  “Parkour is perceived as constant movement using natural motion. The technique is very physical, but it’s a way of evaluating and perceiving your environment around you in a strategic way, where you don’t let your mind or physica
l barriers stop you. Defensively, if you can think at least two steps ahead of your pursuer, then your chances of getting away are much greater.”

  He paused and glanced at the line. “It all starts with getting comfortable with balance. Are you ready to give it a go now?”

  I followed his gaze while chewing my bottom lip. “Can we lower the line to a couple of feet above the ground?”

  He shook his head and turned me toward the ladder. “You’ll learn to balance much faster if you fear falling. Consider it incentive.”

  I’d already put my hands on the ladder, but I quickly glanced over my shoulder with a sarcastic tilt of my eyebrow. “I do fear falling. I was pretty clear on that. From my perspective, your logic is flawed.”

  He squeezed my shoulders, a shameless grin spreading across his face. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

  And that was the crux of it. If I couldn’t trust Drystan to have my back with this, how could I possibly trust him with my secret, regardless of the outcome? I took a deep breath and began to climb the ladder.

  “Use the tree limb to help you get balance on the line,” he called out once I got to the top.

  With a tight hold on the thick limb, I put one foot on the line, then ducked under the limb like I’d seen him do. As soon as my weight shifted, the line began to wobble, then swing wildly. Pulse thrumming, I tried to tighten my hold on the tree but my gloves slipped.

  I screamed on the way down. Strong arms caught me mid-fall, wrapping around my body. Drystan’s low chuckle vibrated against my shoulder. “I suggest ditching the gloves since it’s warmed up a bit. They kept you from maintaining a tight grip.”

  My heart was still beating on high rev when he set me on my feet. I didn’t want to climb the ladder again, but the challenging “you’re not chicken, are you?” look in his eyes made me tilt my chin at a stubborn angle.