Echo Into Darkness: Book 2 in The Echo Saga (Teen Paranormal Romance)

by Skye Genaro

  "He was…asleep," I said, working hard to keep my voice steady. "Can I ask you something? Will he even remember that I came today, or that I talked to him?"

  "Sorry dear, but no. He's on a heavy dose of painkillers." She patted my shoulder and went to her husband.

  My body sagged with relief.

  Kimber and I got home after dark. After a chapter of Trigonometry, I was dying to go to bed. I changed into my pajamas and saw a lamp glowing in Becca's window across the street. I let out a long sigh. She needed to know what I had found out about last night.

  "I have to tell you something about the accident," I said when she answered her phone. "That driver rammed your car on purpose, and he did it because of me."

  "I know. You already told the police," she replied nonchalantly.

  "When did I do this?"

  "When they were writing up the report. You told them that people were out to get you, and the guys in the SUV wanted to kidnap you. When the police asked why, you said it's because you have superpowers."

  My dinner tossed in my stomach. I wrapped my arms around the wastebasket and dry heaved.

  "Are you throwing up?"

  "I actually said that? Out loud? What did they do?"

  "They looked at each other like you were a lunatic and then tested your blood alcohol level. Not that they needed to. You could hardly stand up, you were so blitzed. They made you sit in the back of the squad car until Kimber got there."

  I let out a groan.

  "Hey, thanks for guzzling my drink last night," Becca said.

  "Now you're just being mean."

  "No, I'm serious. The police checked me for alcohol, too. I could have lost my license."

  "Oh, in that case, my pleasure," I said.

  I hung up the phone and threw up for real.

  *******

  Saturday morning, I refused to get out of bed. What was the point? I wasn't allowed to leave the house. Plus, the longer I stayed under my comforter, spooning with Tito, the longer I was off the psychos' radar.

  Around eleven, I opened up my laptop and Googled Mutila. I'd done several searches before, using words like secret societies and paranormal bad guys but never came close to finding anything useful.

  This time, three websites appeared at the top of the results page. I clicked on the first one, Conspiracy Theories.

  The Mutila is a fictitious organization that supposedly uses paranormal abilities to control United States governments, corporations, and citizens. Their existence is completely unfounded.

  According to the theory, regional factions are led by a sole individual who oversees a staff of agents and soldiers that recruit gifted people. Agents supposedly possess unnatural abilities such as "psychic," "telekinesis," and other unproven capability.

  There are many problems with this theory, the biggest being that paranormal ability does not exist. Unfortunately, certain unstable individuals living on the fringe of society still fabricate stories about such events.

  "Unstable individuals? No evidence that these abilities exist?"

  All the books on my shelf flew to the floor and my desk chair did a somersault across the room. Conspiracy theory, my butt. I had a mystery girl leaving warning notes in my locker about these lunatics. I continued reading.

  The Mutila supposedly categorizes their agents according to the tasks they perform:

  Coercion: Psychically influencing a person, forcing them to do something they do not want to do.

  Destruction: Destroying objects using only the power of the mind.

  Remote Viewing: The capability to spy on people, read classified documents, etc. using psychic skills.

  Assassin: Ending the life of another person using psychic influence.

  These abilities are completely baseless, and therefore these threats are impossible.

  The writer's assurance did nothing for me. I did not believe for one second that the Mutila was a conspiracy theory.

  The other two websites displayed the same information, like someone had copied and pasted the content from one place to another. The search hadn't been a total waste, but it was far from valuable. What did I expect? A flow chart showing titles and pictures of the villainous people who were after me? A neon arrow pointing to their secluded headquarters on a map?

  My phone buzzed with a text from Becca, asking if she could come over.

  Yes! How about now? I texted back. Anything to get the faction off my mind.

  I met her at the door. She carried stacks of clothing under each arm.

  "Is Kimber here?" she whispered.

  "Pedicure and massage day. Why?"

  "'Cause I want you to do some voodoo on these clothes. You said you can change them with your magicky power, right?"

  The girl was shaking with anticipation. She'd probably been up all night fantasizing about the tricks I said I could do.

  I yawned, feigning disinterest. "Nah, let's go watch TV."

  Becca waggled her head. "Say what?"

  "You saw the lightning thing I did to Raquelle. The rest is so boooring." I gave an incurious shrug.

  "You're holding out on me? I follow you into a den of wierdos so you and Jaxon can spy on America's Most Untalented Skateboarders, and then get in a car accident because of you, and now…"

  While she worked herself into a rant, I levitated a foot off the floor. Her jaw hung limply.

  "You're right. I totally owe you," I said. "It's just that it's all kinda overwhelming sometimes." Fake pity tinged my voice. I had a hard time holding back a fat grin.

  Becca's voice got croaky. "Right. I've got too many superpowers. Said nobody. Ever. I bet if Connor were here, you'd do this every day."

  "Sister, I would do anything with him any day of the week." I unconsciously swept my tongue across my upper lip.

  "Wipe off that sinful look and quit messing with me." She unloaded the pile of black clothing into my arms and I lowered back to the floor. "Change the color of these for me, please? I can't go to school wearing Wiccan anymore. I'll feel like a fool."

  "Hmmmm…" I held the first shirt between us and gave it some thought. I tossed it back to her, and in mid-air, it changed to light blue.

  "Better?" I asked.

  Her jaw flopped open again and her eyes got cartoon-large. I tossed the remaining shirts at her, one by one.

  "Let's go with…green. Yellow. Coral, which you hate but you look nice in. White, pink, purple and…here we go…ta-da!…red."

  A pool of drool threatened to pour over the corner of her gaping mouth. She swallowed, hard.

  "Wait, this one is all wrong." I levitated the red shirt and, instead of changing it, swept my hand through the fabric.

  "Omigodomigodomigod." She started to pant.

  Having an audience was way more fun than I anticipated. I liked using my ability for fun stuff like this. Actually, I'd learned to love it. "Catch the Chihuahua." I gently levitated Tito into her arms. Becca looked like she would pass out from ecstasy.

  "Maybe you should sit down," I said.

  "Uh-huh." She bent unsteady legs and collapsed against the wall.

  Laughter bubbled over. "Oh, man, you should see the look on your face," I said.

  "If I had your gift, I would never sleep. This kind of power is incredibly seductive."

  "I'll admit, this is the most fun I've had in a while."

  "Ditto that." A minute passed before she could speak again. She tilted her head to the side in question. "Speaking of seductive, does Jaxon know you can do all this?"

  "He knows but I haven't shown him anything yet."

  "I bet his kisses will get hotter when he finds out you can levitate." Her face went all dreamy. "Levitating kisses. Oh yeah." When I didn't answer, she asked, "You do like him, right?"

  "Yeah, I guess. But…" But what? There was something about him that made me uneasy, and it wasn't just his very public displays of affection. "His aura is clean but I get the impression he's not being completely truthful with me."

 
"You read auras, too? Like, you can tell if someone is lying?"

  "Yep."

  Becca bit the inside of her lip. "I got an A on my Trig test."

  Right away, I guessed what she was doing. "You're bad at math. If you want to test me, ask something I'd never know."

  "I got a C in History," she said.

  "Truth."

  She thought for a moment. "My mom and I fought today," she challenged.

  "Truth."

  "My brother broke up with his girlfriend."

  "Lie. Wait, truth? Lie?"

  "Lie, and my mom and I haven't fought in a while."

  "I got them wrong? Test me again," I said, bewildered.

  "I read Lord of the Flies."

  "True."

  "I love Danielle's new haircut."

  "That short look with all the bangs? Lie."

  "Well, you got some of them right," she said. "Jaxon's a pretty fun guy. Do you think you're reading him wrong?"

  This was disturbing. I'd put stock in my talent for reading people, but I hadn't used it much after Connor left.

  Becca went home with her stash of new clothes and I realized I hadn't had my Connor fix for the day. All the talk about Jaxon made me irritated that he had zipped into my time without difficulty while the one person who should be here was still stuck in the far corner of the universe.

  I pulled the futuristic phone from its hiding place and turned it on. Connor's holographic likeness materialized in front of me. His scent warmed the air. The image was so lifelike, every time I reached out to touch it and my hand passed through, goose bumps sprung up on my arm.

  I rotated his picture to admire the curve of his neck. That used to be my favorite place to kiss him. That and his earlobe. He said it tickled and I loved the burst of power I got when he would laugh and playfully swat my hand away.

  I wondered what kind of power I had over Jaxon.

  I gave my head a shake. Where had that come from? Jaxon couldn't compete with my soulmate in any category.

  Connor was mystical and sexy, fierce and rock solid in his conviction. I knew where I stood with him.

  Jaxon was a roller coaster ride through unknown territory. He was unpredictable and unnerving, like a carnival ride with an ever-louder squeak that loses a bolt right when you reached the ride's highest point.

  Not all the differences were bad, though.

  Jaxon had a bad-boy thing going that got my adrenaline pumping. He and I were on more equal footing, whereas Connor's perfection sometimes unsettled me. He had been so far out of my league, I'd felt inferior to him at times. I never stopped marveling at how much he loved me.

  The little green light on the phone blinked repeatedly. It had started doing that more and more. I worried that the phone was battery operated, and that the batteries would quit on me permanently. Suddenly, Connor's image wavered and disappeared.

  "Oh no! Come back. Don't be dead, please don't be dead." I turned the phone's button to off, then on. Pressed a few buttons I hadn't dared to touch before.

  "Come on, just a little longer. Please?"

  As though granting me one final wish, the phone blinked back to life. Connor's face didn't appear, though. His whole body did. He stood in the center of my bedroom, smiling.

  Chapter 13

  "Connor?" I called to the image because, my God, he looked so real.

  "Hey," he said.

  My hand flew to my mouth.

  "Hey," a girl's voice replied.

  My veins hardened, and I realized I was watching a video. The camera was trained on Connor. Who was filming him?

  He looked into the lens, quirked a self-conscious brow. "Turn that thing off."

  "I thought we'd pick up where we left off yesterday." The girl's voice came from off-camera. "I was having fun. Weren't you?"

  His eyes drifted from the camera, giving the impression that whatever they were talking about, he wasn't nearly as interested as she was.

  She set the camera on a flat surface. The holograph of a girl crossed the room and took his hand.

  She had big eyes and full lips. I recognized her right away. She was the girl Connor had danced with while I was on the ballroom floor with his father, Mr. McCabe. This was Connor's ex-girlfriend.

  Her golden hair hung down her back in an intricately braided plait.

  "Come on, Nadia, we're going to be late," he said.

  While she held Connor's hand, my eyes lowered to the phone where a date flashed at the bottom of the screen. The video was over a year old, filmed long before he and I met.

  Everybody had a past.

  Still, the sight of this girl touching him made me want to scream.

  "You're always on time for everything. You're too serious." She dropped his hand and picked up a pillow. Her eyes gleamed. She smacked Connor across the chest with it. "When are you going to learn to relax a little?"

  He winced, agitated. "What are you doing?"

  She swung at him again. "Aren't you at least going to fight back?" She tossed him a pillow. He held it away from his body like he'd never heard the words pillow fight in his life. She walloped him on top of his head and gave him an I dare you smile.

  Connor smacked her on the back, and a full-fledged pillow war ensued.

  She was an equal match, holding her ground, swinging as hard as he did. I wondered what sort of gift she had, and if she was as talented as him. Good enough for him was the phrase I was tap-dancing around, because this was the girl Mr. McCabe thought his son should be dating.

  I watched them for much too long, mesmerized by the sight of holographic people rough-housing in my room. When their battle came too close, I actually stepped out of the way before remembering they weren't real. None of this was real. But it had happened. Connor had cared about her.

  Connor charged the girl and they tumbled onto the floor in a laughing mass of tangled limbs.

  "Oh, no," I said.

  She set her pillow aside and kissed him on the temple.

  "Ack! This is not happening." The phone bobbled in my grip.

  The girl ran her hand down his back and under his t-shirt.

  "You skank! Get away from him! Don't let her touch you!" Which button did I have to push to put an end to this catastrophe?

  It was as though Connor heard me, because he got that faraway look on his face, like he was thinking about something else, someone else. He leaned away from the girl.

  She kissed his neck.

  "No. No! NO!" I yelled. I pressed the Off button. When that failed, I tapped every icon on the screen. The image would not change.

  Connor kissed the inside of her wrist and moved it into her lap, signaling he was done. She crawled toward him.

  I threw the device against the wall.

  The image flickered and then reappeared a few feet from the phone. Lines of white static cut across the two holographic bodies, but it didn't prevent the girl from pushing her fingers through his hair. I snatched the device off the floor and ran to the bathroom with that damn hologram following right behind. I threw the phone in the toilet. Sparks flew; the image sputtered and died.

  I sank to the edge of the tub with my face in my hands. What was it going to take to get over this guy?

  A sob caught in my throat. It was pointless to feel this way, months after we'd split up, and it was pointless to ache over a relationship that Connor had been in a year before we ever set eyes on each other. I turned on the faucet and let the cool water run over my face.

  Connor had a past, and he was going to have a future. Without me. It was high time I gave up my pitiful daydreams and got a firm grip on this reality. It was time to move on.

  *******

  Sunday night brought another shift at the Smoothie Shack.

  "I need to cut back on my hours," I told my manager, Joe. "I can't keep up with my homework."

  "Don't make any hasty decisions until you see this." He handed me an envelope. Inside was my first paycheck ever.

  "Ninety dollars. Yeah!" I said
.

  "That's the gross amount. Your take-home pay is at the bottom."

  He pointed to the bunch of lines subtracting from the overall amount.

  "What? Who are these people, and why are they taking all my money?" I asked.

  "They're not people, they're government. The more you make, the more they take out as your contribution to society. By now I'm contributing, like, two hundred bucks per paycheck." He stuck his chest out. "But that's because I'm management. One day, I'll be District Manager and they'll take out a lot more than that. Pretty awesome, huh?"

  I shook my head. "You're weird." I stuffed the check in my pocket.

  "Hey, respect authority. And you have a customer." Joe went into the back.

  Jaxon leaned on the counter, his mouth caught somewhere between a smile and a smirk. His eyes trailed over the completely unimpressive shop. "Fruit drinks and arcade games. I've really been missing out."

  I squinted one eye. "If you've come to hassle me, this is a bad time."

  "Not on my agenda tonight." He dovetailed his fingers and curled them together. Tapped his thumbs. "Do you have time to talk?"

  I blew out a cheek full of air. The place was empty except for a grade-schooler and his parents who passed by my counter and went straight to the arcade.

  "I dunno. I could be mobbed at any minute." I let the sarcasm flow.

  Jaxon looked at me, and then away. "I wanted to apologize for not…" He drummed his pinkies on the counter.

  "Not what?"

  "Well. Protecting you. From the Mutila or you know, whoever came after you on your way home from the skatepark."

  "You made it pretty clear you weren't going to come to my rescue. Ever. I shouldn't even expect a fistfight on my behalf because, according to you, I can take down an entire super-soldier army on an as-needed basis."

  "Can't you?"

  I sighed. "I hate violence. Besides, the idea terrifies me. My ability isn't exactly predictable when I'm scared."

  "Not even to save yourself?"

  "Even then. It locks up when I'm freaked out."

  Defending myself against Solomon had driven that weakness home. I had no reason to believe I'd recover from that mental block, and prayed I'd never have to find out. A lump formed in my belly. Time to change the subject.