“Do you ever sleep, then?” I asked, returning my thoughts to my guard.
“If I’m sick. When I was a child, I’d sleep for a few hours at night, as I grew. By the time I was twelve I’d abandoned the practice. There are more useful things to do in the late hours.”
“Isn’t meditation just as wasteful, though?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Meditation helps to balance the mind, brings forth clarity, and quells some of my—” He stopped talking abruptly. “It’s a noble practice, spiritually cleansing.”
The waitress returned with the cake, sliding it onto the table. She asked if we needed anything else, her inflections and body language overly enthusiastic. I shook my head, dismissing her, and took a big bite. It was delicious and smooth. I closed my eyes, letting it melt on my tongue.
Glenn stared at it warily. “This doesn’t look like any cake I’ve ever seen.”
I laughed, “Try it!”
He tentatively picked up one of the forks and took a tiny sliver from the pointed end. It was so little, I almost wondered if he could possibly taste it. He reluctantly put it into his mouth. His eyes widened. “That’s good,” he said, sounding surprised.
“My favorite,” I agreed.
His hand shook, and he set the fork down. “Do you want it?” he asked.
I blinked. He appeared to like it, and I wasn’t sure why he was so reluctant. “It’s for you, Glenn. I have my own.”
He stared at the cake. He kept his hands clasped together for several moments before he picked up the fork again, taking another bite. He closed his eyes.
“I appreciate you,” I said, leaning forward and grabbing his free hand in mine. “I just thought I should let you know.”
He opened his eyes with a panicked expression, snatching his hand away. “You— I’m just doing my job,” he said roughly, dropping the fork. Glenn seemed practically angry with me. “Are you almost done?” he asked, pushing his plate away from himself. “We should get back to the house.”
“Don’t you want more?” He’d barely dented his slice of cake.
“I’m fine, Sarah. Thanks for the outing,” he added, sounding insincere. He shifted his bow on his back. “Let’s just go.”
“Okay,” I said, confused.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Escape
The next day, I walked to Score’s house with Glenn in reluctant tow. My dulcimer was firmly in my hands this visit. Glenn had raised a brow when I grabbed it, but I mumbled an excuse that I didn’t like leaving it behind, that it was part of me.
Which was true, but not the reason I took it with me.
Score lay in a chaise on his back deck, basking in the sunlight with dark glasses over his eyes. He perked up as soon as we arrived, running down the stairs to greet us.
“Hey, Sarah,” he said. He turned to Glenn, “Oh. What’s he doing here?”
I sighed. Score was playing dumb, of course, but I supposed the only thing to do would be to act natural. So I turned to him, tilting my head. I said, “Will, this is Glenn, and for the rest of the day you can’t see him or hear him.” I turned to Glenn, raising a brow. He looked thoughtful, but appeased. He nodded, dropping back several paces.
Score grabbed my hand in his, lacing his fingers through mine. I felt my heart rate jump up, though I knew it was all a clever ruse. Score didn’t really feel anything for me, but he was supposed to be my human boyfriend, and he played the part perfectly. I gripped my dulcimer in my other hand tightly, wondering how we’d get the chance to speak freely. I took a fleeting glance back at Glenn, and Score said, “Sarah, you seem distracted. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” More playing along…
He dug into his pocket, pulling out a pretty necklace with a star shaped opal dangling from it. My breath caught. I swallowed down a lump in my throat, but Score seemed unaware of my discomfort. Casually, he said, “This is for you. Here, let me put it on.” He brushed my hair aside so it swung over my right shoulder, and looped the chain around my throat.
As he leaned against me to clasp it, I heard him whisper, “Just follow my lead…” He pulled back, smiling. “It looks beautiful on you.”
I blushed, staring at the sand. “Thanks, Will.”
Glenn had fallen back about fifty paces by now. Score pulled me towards his car. He fished in his pockets for his keys and clicked the doors open, the lights flashing. Politely, he opened the passenger door for me. He raised a brow, gesturing inside.
“Sarah!” Glenn yelled, watching me like a hawk.
I bit my lip and gave him an apologetic glance, then slid into the seat.
Score smoothly clicked the door shut. Within five seconds he was next to me, keys in the ignition. In the side mirror, I could see Glenn had started to run towards us. I glanced nervously at Score. I wouldn’t put it past my bodyguard to rip the door open, but Score took his time and pulled out, careful to avoid being stuck in the sand as we drove out of the paved slab near his garage.
I took a fleeting glance behind me. Glenn had given up on chasing after us, and was instead staring at the car with a scowl. A sharp pang of guilt hit me between the eyes— Glenn was only trying to do his job, and it was a little cruel of me to run from him. On the other hand, he needed to learn to trust me.
Score laughed next to me, his body slumping down in relief. “We made it.”
I shifted, shaking my head. “Except he won’t be gone for long,” I muttered. Score looked so relaxed and happy, but I knew Glenn. He took his duty seriously. “Unless we’re going to leave town— and we’re not,” I said with certainty, “Glenn will find us as soon as we stop.”
“No, we’ll be okay.”
“Are you planning on just driving us around?” It was a plausible way of doing things. I’d still never seen Glenn attempt to ride in a car before. I had an impression he didn’t care for human transportation. But driving around aimlessly left something to be desired.
Score removed his sunglasses, grinning at me. I realized with a start that he hadn’t been wearing his contacts at all this evening— his eyes were siren-bright, turquoise. “There is a destination, I promise you. Not out of town.”
He drove for about five minutes before pulling into Longbay Park. I frowned.
I’d been here before, though it wasn’t impressive. It was a small park just off the highway, with trees, moss, and ferns crowding up a small picnic site. There was a tiny fire pit and a table that was long since warped in the rain. Cutting past the trees was a well-beaten path to the beach— beyond the dunes and scrubby grass. To my knowledge, it was used exclusively by stoners as a place to get high before trudging their way back to the beach.
Score slid out of the car, opening my door for me. I furrowed my brows and accepted his hand, exiting the vehicle. I stood awkwardly with my dulcimer slung over my shoulder.
I glanced back towards the road dubiously. “We don’t have much time, Score,” I said anxiously, “Glenn will definitely—”
“I promise you, Sarah, it’ll be okay.” Score smiled, pulling his guitar from the back seat of the car and slinging it over his back. He held out one hand, and I accepted it nervously. Leading me through the trees, away from the beaten trail towards the beach, we crested a hillside. It was thick with trees, and foliage brushed against my ankles, leaving a wet dew on the cuffs of my jeans.
Below the hill, the trees thinned, opening up into a tiny section of beach. It was probably only twenty feet long and twelve feet wide, but it accessed the ocean. The dunes towered around it, creating a secure fortress. Two large stone slabs sat a few feet apart, acting as makeshift chairs. It was an oddly perfect slice of the world for two people.
Score hummed softly under his breath. I folded my arms across my chest, my heart starting to beat a little faster. It was too close to singing for me to feel comfortable, and I’d told him at our last meeting I wasn’t ready to hear him sing. Music was just too dangerous. I was relieved when he stopped abruptly. He settled down o
n one of the stone slabs, leaning back and staring at the ocean.
“We’ll be fine, now,” he said. His eyes were gold, and they crinkled cheerfully. “Your elf friend won’t disturb us. No one will.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He shrugged, “Siren magic.”
I shook my head. “It won’t work on him, Score. He’s an extra— he’s an elf, so he won’t—”
Score pursed his lips. “I forgot you wouldn’t understand.” He sighed, leaning forward, gesturing to the other stone slab. I sat down reluctantly, gripping the case of my dulcimer hard. “You heard me hum,” he said, “I know you did. You looked really uncomfortable while I did it.” I nodded, and he continued, “It was just a spell. Something to keep us from being disturbed, to keep our voices muffled, to keep things private.”
My eyes widened. “We can do that?”
Score smiled softly, his eyes falling to the ground. “Yeah. It’s got its limits, of course, but there’s an awful lot we can do.”
My lip trembled. I didn’t want to think of wielding even more power— it was terrifying. I couldn’t handle speaking with anyone, let alone—
Score crossed the gap between us, looking concerned. He crouched on the ground so we were eye-level. “It’s okay, Sarah. You don’t have to do anything that makes you uneasy. It’s all tied to intention.”
I shook my head, “But it’s—” I didn’t want to talk about my foster parents with him yet, so I just said, “It’s too much power!”
His mouth turned to a frown. “It’s a lot, yes, but it’s all under control.”
It was easy for him to say, easy for him to assume. Score always seemed to have complete control of any situation. I turned my head to the tide, watching it roll in and out, steady and reassuring. “It’s all intention?” I asked in a small voice.
He sounded relieved as he answered, exhaling loudly, “Yes. You have to want something, then direct your thoughts and voice to do it.”
I slipped off my shoes, digging my toes into the sand. My shoulders relaxed. If I had no intentions of ever singing, of ever using it, then I couldn’t harm anyone else. I peeked over at him. His eyes were forest green, but they were shifting to a murky purple.
I felt myself grow frustrated. “Why?! Why do they do that?!”
He blinked, taken aback. “Why do what…?” Then he realized what I meant, and started laughing, “Oh…” He grinned at me, “Our eyes?” I nodded, feeling my face screw up in irritation. He smiled. “I promised, didn’t I?”
I nodded, “You did.”
“It’s our emotions, Sarah.”
“What?” I asked, trying to fit it together.
He laughed at me, and I blushed. “Confused, now embarrassed…” He looked at his feet, at the sand below. “It works like a mood ring. If it was common knowledge, it’d be dangerous for us— people could practically read our minds. That’s why the colors change so often. We’re always feeling something at least a little different than we were, from moment to moment.”
“So you know what the colors mean, then?” I asked, finding myself smiling.
He nodded. “Some of them. Not all, though. I admit, I’ve seen a few new ones in your eyes, but then again…” He shrugged, “I could only compare it to what I’ve seen in the mirror. Even then, I’ve been wearing my contacts for a long time. I usually see my eyes as being brown, like before I transitioned.”
I narrowed my eyes and stared, scrutinizing the color of his irises. At the moment, they were shifting, but settling down to a pretty true liquid gold color that bled into a sort of light pink on the edges. It reminded me of a sunset. It was baffling. “What are you feeling now?”
He smiled. “Happy... I’m often happy when I’m with you, Sarah. I just feel more natural when we’re together.”
My breath caught, and I moved my eyes away from him shyly. I rolled my feet into the sand, letting the grains massage them. It felt soothing, and I asked, “Score, what were you like before you turned?”
“I—” He sounded taken aback by the question. “Why do you want to know?”
I looked up at him. I wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but his eyes were orange now. I had that inkling again— like maybe he wasn’t being completely open with me. I took a breath, “You told me before that you wanted to know me… well, I want to know you, too.”
He turned away from me, his hand on his chin, looking thoughtful. His eyes were narrowed, staring at the ocean. After a long moment, he said, “I was a kid then. Small— scrawny, even. I looked a lot different.”
I laced my hands together, not feeling satisfied with the answer. Though Score was a handsome man, appearances meant very little to me. “I don’t mean what you looked like,” I clarified, “I mean what were you like? Were you always like this? So confident? So controlled? So… together?”
He laughed a little. “Do I really seem like that?”
“You do.”
Score turned to me, his eyes kind. “Hmm… I honestly don’t know the answer to that.”
I stood up, bridging the gap between us, and sat next to him on the enormous slab. We watched the waves roll in and crash on the shore in silence for a few moments. It was nice, just being with him. I wondered if my eyes were the same gold color that his were. I felt pretty happy.
“You brought your dulcimer,” he said. “Do you want to know your name?”
I felt a strange fluster of nerves, not knowing if I really did. Then again, it was only a label. I nodded, passing my instrument to him.
He unsnapped the case, and I smiled, watching him take it in. His eyes widened as he respectfully picked it up, turning it over in his hands, running his fingertips over the carvings.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, glancing towards me briefly with a smile on his face. His hand brushed over the scrolling letters on the side. For a single moment, he mouthed a word silently before closing his eyes. “Lyra. Your name is Lyra.”
Everything stopped for a moment— my thoughts, my breath, my heart.
It was like I had finally awoken to my real life. For the first time since turning, I felt like a siren.
It was my name. How could I have gone by Sarah for so long? No wonder Score had been so insistent that I abandon calling him Will when we were alone. My hands shook a little. I sat rigidly still otherwise, the wind blowing my hair around my shoulders.
Score grabbed my hand carefully, picking it up. I turned to him, searching his eyes. They were golden still— golden and pink and a warm brown in the center. He nodded, “It’s really weird the first time you hear it, because it’s so right.” He gazed into my eyes with a sincere expression on his face. “Thank you for calling me Score.”
My pulse began to race, my stomach filled with butterflies. I leaned against him, closing my eyes. It felt like Score understood me. He wrapped his arm around me, and we sat silently for a long while, just enjoying each other’s company. Everything felt easier when I was around Score, less monumental. I felt safe. I felt normal. It was comforting to have a friend like him.
After a long time, when the sun had dipped below the horizon, he sighed and pulled from me. “If we take too much time, your elf guard will probably tear my house down looking for us.”
He was right. I hadn’t even thought about Glenn. A tiny bit of guilt seeped into my contentment. “Yeah. We need to go.”
I shifted my dulcimer, making sure the snaps on the case were secure before slinging it over my shoulder. I was reluctant to leave. I stood up, and so did he. We faced one another for a long moment, looking into each other’s eyes.
He looked conflicted. Unreadable, evasive emotions translated into a swirl of colors within his gorgeous eyes.
“When can I see you again, like this?” he asked quietly.
I didn’t know. It would depend entirely on how Glenn would react, how strictly he would tighten the reins after today’s escape. I shrugged, shaking my head, at a loss.
Score frowned, holding one of my han
ds. “I guess that’s a question for another day, then.”
I nodded. In the meantime, I’d miss feeling like I belonged somewhere.
For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me, standing there on the tiny beach. Maybe I was reading into it, though. He stared into my eyes, a soft smile upon his lips. Eventually, he tucked a stray piece of my hair behind my ears. “Let’s get back, then.”
He dug into his pocket, pulling out his contact lens case and obscuring the beautiful colors with dull brown. It was incredibly disappointing, but I nodded, “Yeah.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Compromise
When we pulled up to Score’s house, Glenn was sitting tensely on the porch. His hands were clasped so tightly around his bow that his tan knuckles were white. He scowled openly at Score, who dutifully ignored him, playing his part perfectly. I wasn’t sure how he managed it— I knew Score could see Glenn plainly, and if I were in his shoes, I’d be shaking with so much animosity directed towards me.
“You. Are. Mental,” Glenn hissed at me through gritted teeth. His mouth was a tight line, and he glared.
I gave him a fleeting, apologetic glance and turned back to Score. “That was a lot of fun, Will,” I said.
He smiled, shifting his weight. “I enjoyed myself, too, Sarah.” He picked up my hands in his, “When can I see you next?”
“Never!” snapped Glenn loudly. I felt my spine growing rigid, and I glanced back at him for a moment.
Score brushed his thumb across my cheek. “Everything alright?”
I turned to him. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” I sighed. “We… we’ll talk again in school, or…” I had a rush of inspiration and raced down, scrawling my phone number into the sand. “If— if you need me,” I said softly.
He smiled, pulling out his mobile phone and entering it into his contacts.
“Sarah,” Glenn said warningly. He’d had enough, clearly. His patience was spent.
Prelude (The Rhapsody Quartet) Page 20
