Glimmer (Glimmer and Glow #1)

by BETH KERY

  During coffee and dessert, Fall stood and gave an unscripted, engaging, and surprisingly funny little speech about what he’d learned from his experience as a Camp Durand counselor. Everyone listened to him with a rapt, spellbound focus.

  He’s good, Alice admitted to herself. In the photos she’d seen of him—and in her own experience—he usually came off as intimidating and rapier sharp. In reality, he could be warm and charming and even a little self-deprecating. It only made him more magnetically attractive, Alice acknowledged. Clearly she wasn’t the only one who thought so. Kuvi made eye contact with her after Fall finished his speech and waved her hand subtly in the vicinity of her chest as if cooling down the flames. Alice grinned.

  A Durand executive hastened to Fall’s side, placing a wooden box in front of him. Another manager placed a stack of colored folders and a tall but battered-looking trophy next to the box. There was a black flag with gold diamonds on it tied just below the brass figure on top, which was a depiction of several hands clasped together.

  “Oh, right,” Fall said, arching his dark brows in amusement. “Time for the sacred Selection of the Colors Ceremony.” He picked up the beat-up trophy and considered it fondly. “The Diamond Team won last year’s overall competition. The Team Championship trophy will be passed on for safekeeping to the counselor chosen as the Diamond Team leader tonight. In a time-honored tradition, the members of the Diamond Team will then hold the trophy throughout the three weeks of camp, until a new team is designated as the winner on the final night. Now, the Red Team—that was my team—has a long history of heart-stopping Camp Durand victories and innovative strategies—which have occasionally been viciously maligned as underhanded …” A few amiable hisses and boos emanated from the managers’ table. Fall faked being offended at the sounds, but then chuckled. Alice’s heart palpitated uncomfortably at the easy, rich sound and the flash of white teeth on his handsome face. “I’m entirely impartial about the Camp Durand Team Championship, of course. The team competition is a minimal focus here. A passing spectacle,” he said, setting down the trophy with a small smile, his hand lingering on the base. “But whoever does get the red flag, I need to immediately speak with you in private when we finish here about potential strategies … I mean, about whether or not you enjoyed the dessert tonight,” he rushed to correct.

  Alice joined in the laughter. She’d already gathered that despite Sebastian Kehoe’s attempts to downplay the importance of the Team Championship trophy, it was a major deal, not only among the counselors and campers every year, but some of the Durand executives. There were thousands of Durand managers around the globe, but the select few chosen from Camp Durand had a reputation for being the best and brightest. If an attending manager had originally been a counselor, he or she took pride in that fact, and in his or her original Camp Durand team. Fall was just joking about the unspoken obvious.

  “I see Sebastian is sending some eye darts my way, so I assure you all that I’m kidding,” Fall said wryly as he untied the diamond flag from the trophy and shoved it into a hole in the wooden box. “We actually take the rules very seriously for the kids’ sake, so please don’t use me as an excuse to break any.” He picked up the first groups of files, beginning the flag selection.

  A moment later, he drew the coveted diamond flag for Kuvi. Alice’s roommate returned to the table beaming a moment later, carrying the trophy, her campers’ informational packets, and flag.

  Fall called Alice’s name a few minutes later. She stood and walked to the head table like everyone else had to receive the files for her assigned campers and her flag. Fall reached into the flag box.

  Somehow, she wasn’t surprised when he withdrew the strip of red cloth and handed it to her. Her uncanny knowledge didn’t stop her heart from thumping like crazy in her chest, however, especially when she saw that gleam in Fall’s eyes as he handed her the team flag.

  “Well, imagine that,” she heard someone say very quietly as Alice started to return to her seat to polite applause. She glanced sideways, and saw Sebastian Kehoe watching her through a narrowed gaze.

  FOUR

  That night, Alice had a seemingly comical, but in reality, terrifying dream that she was being chased around the main lodge of the camp by a ten-foot-tall knight wearing thick brass armor who poked at her aggressively from behind with a sharp sword. All of the other Durand counselors were calmly watching this abuse, wholly unconcerned by her plight.

  Alice had no doubt the knight wanted to kill her.

  The knight jabbed at the back of her head. Pain sliced through her, and she awoke with a muffled shout.

  She immediately recognized her surroundings due to the starlight glow reflecting off the white beach and emanating into the cabin from the patio doors. She guiltily glanced over to see if she’d wakened Kuvi with her yell, sighing in relief when she saw her roommate’s form remained unmoving.

  Her heart still racing, she swung her legs off the bed and stood. Thanks to the scary dream, perspiration had gathered between her breasts and on her nape. A glowing digital clock on her bedside table told her it was 4:52 a.m. Morning. The kids would be arriving at around noon today, according to Kehoe. She must be a lot more nervous about the idea of whether or not she had what it took in her to lead the band of kids … or the ability to show the executives even a glimmer of the innovative leadership potential prized by Durand.

  Her stomach fluttering with nerves, she knelt in front of her closet, blindly fumbling for her tennis shoes.

  She knew from experience a brisk jog would help ease her rampant anxiety. If she didn’t get ahold of herself, she was going to spin out of control and ruin everything before the first day of camp even came to an end.

  She shrugged on an exercise bra, but otherwise just left on the shorts and tank top she’d worn to bed. No one else would be up this early. No one would see her.

  She’d jogged with Lacey Sherwood during several early mornings this week, but always after dawn broke. It was still dark when she softly closed and locked the cabin door and jogged down the front steps. Lampposts set along the path helped her to navigate as she settled into a comfortable jogging pace. She wound her way through the silent dark cabins and headed toward the beach.

  Her body warming and loosening from the brisk exercise, she admired the moon-bathed pale coastline as she ran. She breathed in the cool morning air, the hushed sound of the waves whisking on the shore soothing her. Slowly, a calm seeped over her as she ran along the damp sand.

  In her mind’s eye, she saw the pieces of paper with her campers’ names, ages, cities of origin, histories, and assessments provided by a child psychologist listed on it. She’d memorized almost every word in those files before she’d fallen asleep last night. She was worried Kehoe and his team had assigned her the most challenging campers. Kuvi’s campers’ descriptions hadn’t seemed half so intimidating as Alice’s.

  Multiple prior arrests for drug possession, breaking and entering, and assault before age fifteen … Post-traumatic stress disorder following the witnessing of her mother’s murder … six unsuccessful foster home placements, where he was typically removed after multiple incidents of running away … victim of bullying and physical aggression by peers resulting in multiple injuries and hospitalizations … parental neglect reported by school’s social worker after investigations into child’s home life revealed that the child is left alone for extended periods of time with inadequate nutritious food or necessary supervision, resulting in the child being dangerously overweight, diabetic, and non-compliant with treatment.

  Those descriptions, and others as well, paraded through her head. The histories weren’t as shocking or unfamiliar to Alice as they were to most of her peers. That fact worried Alice even more. Just because she’d grown up in Little Paradise, she wasn’t prepared to help kids like this. In fact, she was starting to worry her own experience with deprivation, neglect, and constant threat had left her even less capable of assisting in comparison to her fellow couns
elors.

  She turned back toward camp after twenty minutes on the beach. To her right, she spied a path that disappeared into the thick woods. It led to the tennis courts and stables, she knew. This particular part of the trail wasn’t lit with lampposts, but the faint glow of dawn had started to lighten the eastern sky over the woods. Morning was here. She aimed for the path, knowing it would lead her back to camp.

  Despite the dim light of dawn visible on the shore, however, she soon discovered the surrounding trees made it almost pitch black in the woods. Only the paleness of the pavement below her feet guided her. She became hyperaware of the sound of her tapping tennis shoes on the path and her even but escalated breathing.

  Another noise entered her ears. She turned her head, her feet faltering slightly on the path.

  The source of the sound eluded her. She resumed her former pace. She’d thought she’d heard another footfall aside from her own. It’d been her imagination—or more likely, her own heartbeat thumping in her ears.

  Nevertheless, she quickened her pace, some instinct goading her. She thought the stables were just yards ahead. Weren’t there path lights around there? She didn’t ride, like many of her fellow counselors did, so she wasn’t certain.

  The darkness seemed to crowd her, the shadows to encroach. A close, suffocating feeling pressed on her throat and chest.

  Again, she heard a steady tread, slightly off-tempo from her own.

  She stopped abruptly and spun around. Her heart jumped in her throat when the footsteps continued, clearer now that she stood still.

  “Who is it?” she yelled into the black forest.

  The footfalls ceased abruptly. A shiver snaked beneath her heated skin. The entire forest fell silent. She started when she thought she saw something white flicker in the shadows just at the farthest fringes of her vision.

  “Who’s back there?” Alice demanded, anger and panic edging her tone. The white figure remained still. And quiet.

  Or wait … was it slowly, silently soaring closer?

  Terror shot through her veins. She turned and began to run again, still staring over her shoulder. Yes. Something pale was gliding through the darkness toward her. Whoever it was wasn’t answering her, and therefore wasn’t friendly.

  It didn’t even look human.

  She immediately quashed the disturbing thought. She started to sprint.

  “Shit,” she muttered under her breath when she heard the footsteps behind her increase in tempo as well. Yes, it was definitely human. Somehow, the knowledge didn’t help. She was being chased.

  He’s going to kill me.

  Stop it! she shouted at herself mentally, recognizing the irrationality of not only her thought, but her bizarre certainty that it was true.

  She saw some lights ahead through the trees. Thank God. As she took a curve, she also spotted the outline of a building. Even though she’d expressed a firm lack of interest in horseback riding, she recognized the stables. The footsteps behind her grew louder. Her pursuer was getting closer. He was faster than her … stronger. Panic rose in her like a heavy, smothering blanket, weighting her muscles and lungs.

  Her breath grew ragged. A stitch started to pierce her side. She made a split-second decision and left the path. If she tried to make the camp, whoever was behind her would eventually catch up … and who knew what he had in mind? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. If she reached the stables, she could possibly barricade herself inside.

  The glow of a dim outdoor lamp next to the stable entrance guided her. Panicked, she glanced behind her and saw the murky figure follow her off the path. It was a man … wasn’t it? Only the movement of a pale shirt or garment was clear in the dark gray gloom.

  She reached the building and fumbled around wildly for a door. She cried out in desperate relief when the knob twisted—she’d feared it would be locked. If only she could lock it once she got inside. Otherwise, she’d be trapped. The door swung open at her shove.

  She ran directly into something large and solid. Someone grabbed her shoulders. She screamed.

  “Shhh,” a man said, sounding alarmed. “It’s okay. Stop it, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said sharply when she instinctively pushed away from him, slapping and then punching at his chest.

  “Let go of me, damn it,” she seethed.

  He grunted and cursed when she landed an uppercut just below the sternum. There was a clicking sound. A light blazed into her eyes.

  “Alice?”

  She blinked, disoriented.

  “Dylan—” she muttered hoarsely, too shocked upon seeing his hovering face to realize she’d called him by his first name.

  He stared down at her, his hands still cupping her shoulders firmly. His dark brows were bunched in alarmed consternation.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  It took her jumbled brain a moment to take in the fact that he’d grabbed her from the front, not behind. He’d been inside the building when she flung open the door. She looked over her shoulder, panting, searching the shadows, and seeing nothing but a thick dark gray gloom. “Someone was following me through the woods … chasing me.”

  “Who?”

  She gave him an exasperated glance. “I don’t know, he wasn’t being polite and answering my questions while he ran me down,” she ground out. She stared at his chest. He was wearing a black T-shirt, jeans, and black boots. “It wasn’t you,” she stated, as if affirming that fact to herself. Dylan’s face and body were strikingly solid and strong and comforting, but panic still hazed her consciousness. She wasn’t sure why, exactly. Alice had been chased through the grimy streets of Little Paradise untold times and seldom had felt this level of primal fear. “He was wearing a white shirt, not a black one … I think …” She faded off, registering Fall’s fierce stare. She hesitated. Was he silently doubting her?

  “What are you doing out in the woods at this hour?” he asked.

  “Jogging,” she said, bristling at his question. “What are you doing down here?”

  “I ride Kar Kalim most mornings at dawn,” he said distractedly, his narrowed stare trained out the opened door. His gaze flickered down to her confused expression. “My horse,” he added.

  “He was chasing me, and he wouldn’t answer me when I asked who it was,” she insisted succinctly.

  He nodded decisively and slammed the stable door behind her. “I believe you. Come on,” he said, urging her farther into the room. For the first time, Alice realized they stood in a sort of open area that had saddles, bits, bridles, and ropes hanging everywhere. She inhaled the scent of hay and animals. The odor wasn’t unpleasant, necessarily, but for some reason, nausea flickered in her belly. Several pitchforks leaned against one wall. In the distance, she saw a long row of four-foot-high wooden doors and the silhouettes of horses’ heads arching over the top of them.

  “But he’s still out there,” she exclaimed, glancing behind her at the closed door. Dylan didn’t understand at all; he couldn’t seem to grasp the level of primitive fear that had flooded into her veins out there in those dark woods.

  “I know,” Dylan said firmly, guiding her over to a closed door. He opened it. “I’m going to take care of it.” He flipped on a light. She realized it was some sort of office. The barn smell wasn’t so strong in here. An old wooden desk sat in the center of it, a computer, stacks of papers, folders, and notebooks on top of it. There was a sagging brown couch on the right wall. Raincoats and hats hung on a rack, while several pairs of rubber boots were lined up beneath them.

  “It’s the stable manager, Gordon Schneider’s, office. He doesn’t arrive at work until seven,” Dylan explained. When she just continued to look over her shoulder, fearful the man on the path was about to burst in on them, Dylan touched her jaw, gently but firmly. She stared up into his face, her attention finally fully snagged.

  “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Alice. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, holding her breath because he didn’t move. His ski
n remained in contact with hers.

  “There are two locks on this door, do you see?” he said after a lung-burning moment. He swung the wood door to show her. “This is a solid oak door, and no one is going to get past that dead bolt.”

  “Okay,” she said, her voice shaky with relief. He really did believe her. His hand fell away from her face. “Wait, where are you going?” she demanded shrilly when he started to move away.

  “To see who’s out there. Lock the door after me,” he said. He did a double take, wincing slightly as he stared at her face. “Alice,” he said sharply. “Everything is going to be fine. Lock the door after me, do you understand?”

  “No,” she breathed out through bared teeth. “If you walk out of this room, I swear to God I’ll kill you, Dylan Fall.” She heaved on the door, shutting it with a bang. She lunged past his tall form and slammed the dead bolt home before she twisted the second door lock. Her back thumped against the door. She gasped for air.

  “Alice—”

  “You’re not leaving me.”

  It took a second or two for the rapid clicking sound to enter her awareness. It was coming from inside her own head. Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably.

  “Christ,” he muttered. He stepped toward her, worry tightening his features, but Alice was already lurching at him. She flung herself gracelessly against his chest, her cheek bumping and settling just below a solid pectoral muscle. She didn’t understand what was happening. What was that black cloud of fear that hovered just at the edge of vision, threatening to blind her? Strangle her. The fact that she couldn’t name that shadow made it even more frightening.