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

by Patrice Michelle

  I deflected his punch, knocking his hand to the side. I ached everywhere. My bruises had bruises, but I wasn’t stopping. I struck back with a fast punch, which he deftly defended. While he was distracted, I slammed my foot into his thigh.

  “Nice one,” he gritted, hopping from foot to foot like a boxer shaking off pain. “What are you trying to avoid at home?” As soon as he spoke, he swept his leg out.

  I hopped back just in time to avoid being knocked off my feet. “Not avoiding anything.” I shifted my stalking stance and pivoted in the opposite direction to throw him off balance. “You insisted on training, so I’m training.”

  Drystan narrowed his gaze, then lunged for me with a ferocity I wasn’t expecting. We landed on the bed of leaves and air whooshed out of my lungs. Before I could recover, he grabbed my wrists, holding me down.

  “Truth, Nara, or I’ll think you’re sticking around longer than usual because you want to spend more time with me.”

  I struggled and my chest heaved, but he wasn’t moving. “Stop being such an ass and let me up.”

  He shook his head and sat down on my hips, his fingers tightening around my wrists. “Not until you tell me. Does it have something to do with that video? I could tell you were hoping I’d see something. As much as I wish I could’ve, I didn’t see anything.”

  I couldn’t tell Drystan how I felt like crap for intentionally working out until it would be too late for me to go to Freddie’s memorial, but my guilt over Freddie’s death and now my avoidance of his memorial had built to a near paralyzing ache in my stomach. Working out with Drystan helped me temporarily forget.

  “I’m tired,” I finally said. “You’re right. Now’s a good time to quit.”

  He pressed his mouth into a thin line. “You haven’t been the same since we discovered Freddie’s body. Talk to me.”

  The mention of Freddie’s name brought my suppressed tears to the surface. I would never share the secret Freddie had lost his life to protect, but I could share a little of my guilt. Tears trickled down my temples and I whispered, “He tried to give me that book, Drystan. If I’d only taken it, he’d still be alive.”

  “It could’ve been you instead!” Drystan snapped. He heaved a sigh, then shifted off of me. I let him pull me to a sitting position, but he surprised me, tugging me close to throw an arm over my shoulder.

  “You couldn’t have known. Don’t let this eat at you, Nara. If you need to use me to help you get over Freddie’s death, to help you find closure,” he lifted his free hand and dropped his voice to a husky tone, “I’m at your service.”

  I ignored the double meaning behind his comment and elbowed him, feeling a bit better that I’d shared some of my rollercoaster feelings with someone. Keeping it all bottled inside was exhausting. “I’ll take you up on the sparring part. Kicking the crap out of you definitely helps.”

  He shook his head. “You’re hard on a bloke’s ego.”

  I cracked a smile and dried my eyes with the back of my sleeve. “Your ego got plenty of stroking this afternoon. The girls were hanging on your every accented word.”

  “And yet you seem immune to it,” he said in a dry tone.

  “Your voice has its charm,” I said, dropping into a heavy Welsh accent.

  “Hey, that was pretty good.” Surprised pride reflected in his eyes.

  I adopted a smug look. “And you said I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Lainey’s right. You really need to get out and have a good time. Go to the dance with us.” He grinned and pointed to his face. “Who else would be willing to go with me sporting this shiner?”

  I punched him in the shoulder, then sprang to my feet. “That’s low, playing on my guilt. You know I feel bad that happened to you.”

  He gave an unrepentant shrug and leaned back on his hands. “You’re totally stressed. I’m just trying to help you have some fun.”

  I tilted my head, inspecting his shiner. “You know, that black eye is a beacon, drawing girls like lost ships to a lighthouse. I’ll bet they’re all hoping you’ll ask them to the dance. You should take advantage of that.”

  “Girls always want more.” He snorted. “Why bother when I’ll be heading back over the pond in six months.”

  He had a point, but at the same time… “Haven’t you ever heard of carpe diem?”

  His hair shifted forward with his raised eyebrows. “Seize the day?”

  “Exactly. Seize it, Dryst. You never know what tomorrow will bring.”

  “But you do!” he shot back, grinning at his own joke.

  When I rolled my eyes, he laughed, then jumped to his feet. “I’ll think about it,” he said as he brushed leaves off his hands. “It’s late. Let’s head out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  After three days of working out with Drystan, trying new moves, and eventually overcoming my paralyzing fear of concrete, I was able to test my ability to roll safely. My body was battered for my efforts, but Drystan seemed satisfied I wouldn’t break my legs. Sparring with Drystan might’ve left me physically exhausted, but my brain never stopped thinking about Freddie’s death. When I wasn’t working out, the dull ache of guilt in my stomach quickly returned.

  Wednesday night had finally arrived. I waited as late as I could to call Ethan. I didn’t bother texting him to let him know I’d be calling. The way we’d left things, texting wasn’t going to cut it. So much had happened since then, I needed to hear the reassurance in his deep voice, to know that he would be coming home soon.

  Houdini snuggled close to me in bed, and I moaned as I petted him. “Easy boy, I’m so banged up, please don’t bump me too hard.” I eased into the softness of my pillow, glancing at my clock. Quarter ’til eleven. I was just getting ready to dial Ethan’s number when Mom appeared in the doorway of my room.

  “I didn’t get to speak with Sage,” she began, leaning against the doorjamb. “I just kept getting her voice mail. She did text me to let me know she’d be back on Friday afternoon.”

  I perked up with that tidbit of news. Hopefully that meant my aunt had answers about my dad. “Great, I’ll plan to go spend some time with her.”

  Mom gave an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you pack a bag and stay with her this weekend while I’m gone.”

  I shook my head and rubbed Houdini’s back. “I can’t leave him overnight. And with three dogs, Aunt Sage’s house is already crowded. I’ll be staying here.”

  Mom sighed, then wagged her finger at Houdini. “Take good care of her, boy.”

  When he woofed his agreement, I laughed. “When are you getting back?”

  “Late afternoon on Sunday, just in time to wish you an official ‘Happy Birthday.’”

  We shared a smile, and as soon as Mom shut my door, I dialed Ethan’s number. When it rang and rang, then eventually went to voice mail, I hung up without leaving a message. I knew it was a long shot. Ethan had said it might be Thursday night before they got back, but the disappointment unraveled my tightly wound anticipation, splitting open all my carefully concealed wounds. I turned off my light and wrapped my arm around Houdini’s rump, letting silent tears drip onto his soft fur.

  As if he understood my sadness, Houdini shifted from his normal door-guarding position. When he began to lick away my tears, I cried harder, loving his doggie sympathy. I rubbed the top of his head and willed myself to buck up. “Tomorrow night, buddy. He’ll be back tomorrow night.”

  Houdini finally settled, but he didn’t turn back toward the door. Instead, he rested his chin on my arm and stayed that way all night long.

  * * *

  As soon as school let out the next day, I texted Drystan while standing at my locker.

  Me – 3:45 p.m. ~ Bailing on training this afternoon. Have something I need to do.

  Drystan – 3:47 p.m. ~ Need some company?

  Through the windows that ran across the front of the school, I saw him standing right outside the entrance of school, holding court with six girls. They were multiplying.
What’d he do, spray himself with pheromones?

  Me – 3:47 p.m. ~ Thanks, but I need to do this on my own. See you tomorrow.

  Patch and his buddies flew down to my car the moment I reached for the door handle. With a half smile, I set out enough kibble for each raven to have one piece. They gobbled up their food, then let out appreciative squawks. After they flew away, I typed a text to my aunt.

  Me – 3:48 p.m. ~ Just checking on you. Mom said you’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Call me and I’ll come over so you can fill me in.

  If anyone could get answers out of people it was Sage. Hopefully she found a way to contact my dad while he was out of the country. I wanted to show him that video of the plane crash. I assumed I inherited my ability to see it from him. Hopefully he could tell me what it was.

  Once I sent the text, I dialed Gran’s number.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Gran. I finished Margaret’s journal. Even though reading it made me a little sad that I didn’t get to grow up with her in my life, I loved getting to know my grandmother on a much more personal level. Thank you for giving it to me. ”

  “You’re welcome, dear. Did she mention the necklace?”

  “She did. It was a gift from someone and she decided to give it to me.”

  “That sounds just like my sister. She was generous that way.”

  “I was hoping you could tell me something. She mentioned that she pointed out her favorite flowers to me during a trip we took to D.C. I was a little over a year old at the time, so I don’t remember. Do you remember your sister’s favorite flowers?”

  “Margaret was a flower lover.” I could hear the fond smile in Gran’s voice as she continued, “She always had them blooming throughout the year at her house. Let’s see. In the spring, she loved tulips and sunflowers: in the summer, zinnias were her favorites: in the fall asters: and in the winter, it was winter irises and roses.”

  “Thanks, Gran. That helps. How are the Westminster Storage Wars going?”

  Gran snickered. “Clara’s upset that I’ve been able to remember more than her just from looking at old photos. We had a contest where we pulled random photos out of a box and had to tell the story behind them. Ha! She might be quicker on the draw when it comes to bingo, but my visual synapses are working far better than hers. She’s been holed up in her apartment pouting and poring over old photo albums trying to trigger her memories ever since. She’ll come around by tomorrow.”

  I turned down the road that led to a local florist shop. “Wouldn’t it be less stressful if you and Clara just enjoyed each other’s company instead of competing all the time, Gran?”

  “What’s the fun in that? This competition between Clara and me helps keep us on our toes. Our bodies might be as reliable as a one-shot musket, but we’ll do whatever we can to keep the old brain firing like an Uzi.”

  Gran comparing her brain function to stuttering, rapid-fire bursts of gunfire was oddly accurate. I chuckled. “Okay, I get it, but please, just don’t try to climb anything. Remember, musket.”

  “Deal. Do me a favor and tell your mother I want to be invited over for dinner so I can meet this new man in her life. Has she cooked for him yet?”

  “She’s made spaghetti,” I said in an upbeat tone.

  “I meant something other than the one thing she knows how to cook.”

  My car rolled to a stop in front of the flower shop. “Not that I know of.”

  Gran snorted. “Then he must really like her if he’s still sticking around. Yep, I need to meet this man and give my stamp of approval since your grandmother’s not around to do it. Tell your mom I’ll expect an invitation soon.”

  “I will, Gran. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Once I hung up, I took a deep breath. Last night I’d dreamed that I worked out with Drystan and then came home to see a blip on the evening news about Freddie’s well-attended memorial earlier in the week. The newscaster went on to say that Freddie had been buried in Oak Lawn Cemetery.

  I got out of my car and mumbled as I reached for the door to the florist shop. “Time for some closure.”

  * * *

  The cemetery caretaker was kind enough to point me to Freddie’s grave, which sat in the far left corner of the beautifully manicured Oak Lawn grounds.

  Freddie’s newly dug grave of recently patted down earth tugged at my heart as I approached with a bouquet of winter roses and irises. I knelt beside the grave and welcomed the frigid, damp soil soaking into my jeans as I propped the flowers up against his gravestone.

  “I think my grandmother would’ve brought these for you, Freddie,” I said quietly, lightly brushing my fingers over the soft petals of the white and purple flowers. Cold wind whistled, forcing me to dig my hands into the leather coat’s pockets and bury my nose in the soft red cashmere scarf to stay warm. Huge oak limbs swayed above, while dead leaves tumbled around other graves, catching on one headstone before whipping away to catch on another in the distance.

  I stared at the epitaph carved onto Frederick Holtzman’s grave and sadness pressed heavily on my chest.

  He dedicated his life to his research, and upon his death the ravens honored him.

  I traced the carved letters with my fingers. “Please forgive me. You were so sure, but I didn’t know the book was meant for me.” Flattening my palm against the cold stone, I blinked away the tears that threatened and drew on my inner resolve as I whispered, “I discovered the book’s secret, Freddie. I wish you’d been there to see me unlock its hiding place, then watch it disintegrate in my hand. It was magical. But don’t worry…” I paused and tapped my temple. “It’s locked in here, hiding just under the surface.” I straightened and conviction seeped into my voice, giving it strength. “I promise I’ll fulfill my part and discover why that drawing was so important.”

  The wind picked up, howling and blowing around me in gusty swirls. A small cyclone of crunchy brown leaves formed on a grave a few feet away, drawing my attention. I watched in fascination as the cyclone drew closer. Once the whirl of leaves moved until they were only a foot away, the distinct smell of spicy chili and burning wood wafted toward me, growing stronger with each rotation. Goose bumps scattered across my skin.

  Freddie had heard me.

  When I closed my eyes in relief, I thought I felt the weight of invisible hands land on my shoulders. I might’ve imagined it, but I could’ve sworn the hands gave a gentle squeeze. All I knew was that a strong sense of comfort and support washed over me, slowly unknotting my stomach.

  I opened my eyes and nodded. “Be at peace, Freddie. It’s my turn now.”

  * * *

  I felt so much better after my trip to the cemetery that instead of wanting to cry on Ethan’s shoulder, I was looking forward to our conversation. If Ethan asked me details about what I’d found in Freddie’s book, I still couldn’t describe what was on the paper, but I’d been allowed to see it before it disintegrated for a reason. I hoped that when it mattered, it would come back to me.

  This time I didn’t wait so late to call Ethan. At ten, I leaned back on my pillow and dialed his number. Two rings later, the phone picked up.

  “Hello?”

  The last thing I’d expected was a female to answer Ethan’s phone. And it didn’t sound like an older woman, either. The voice sounded close to my age and tired…or sleepy, as if I’d woken her.

  “Hello?” she repeated.

  “May I speak to Ethan?” I said in a surprisingly calm voice, even though I wanted to scream, “Who are you, and why are you answering my boyfriend’s phone late at night?” There had to be some rational explanation.

  She yawned. “He’s taking a shower right now.”

  I gritted my teeth and asked evenly, “Who is this?”

  “Danielle,” she breathed out.

  “Danielle, would you please give Ethan a message?” I spoke in a polite tone, while I seethed inside. There’d better be a freaking great explanation for a girl answering his phone and casually speaki
ng about him taking a shower as if it was no big deal. I couldn’t wait to hear it. “Tell him Nara called and would like to talk with him as soon as he’s available.”

  “Will do,” she said in a perkier voice.

  Before I could say another word, she hung up.

  I stared at my phone in shock. I gripped the handset and resisted the overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. Instead, I fell back on my pillow to wait.

  When eleven rolled around without a call, I checked to make sure my ringer was turned up, then I checked to make sure he hadn’t sent a text.

  Nothing.

  Anger shot through me, so fast and fierce, if I’d looked in the mirror right then my face would be steaming red.

  With precise, measured movements, I opened my text window and typed out one word to Ethan.

  Me – 11:05 p.m. ~ TTTWFO?

  I hit Send, then waited for him to respond.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  At the end of the next day, a text finally came through on my phone right after I’d closed my locker. I’d been so wound up waiting to hear back from Ethan—jealousy and anger simmered inside me all day—I grabbed my phone from my backpack and turned away from Lainey yammering about dance decorations.

  When I saw the text wasn’t from Ethan but from my aunt, despondent fury whipped through me, jacking the heat flowing through me from simmer to a rolling boil. I’d gone through an entire day at school on very little sleep. Not only had I fallen asleep waiting, but I’d woken up every hour last night to check my phone. When I woke up at four, I hadn’t been able to fall back asleep.

  Aunt Sage – 3:45 p.m. ~ Please come straight to my house after school.

  “Nara!” Lainey huffed. “I was talking to you. Is that Ethan?”

  “Not all of us care about the dance,” I snapped. When a hurt look crossed her face, I realized I sounded like a jerk, so I softened my tone. “Sorry, Lainey. It’s from my aunt. She just got back in town.” I frowned at the screen. That was a very short text. I quickly typed one back.