Denial

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Denial Page 1

by R. M. Walker




  Denial

  The Seer Series Book 2

  by

  RM Walker

  Denial © 2017 RM Walker

  Cover Art © B2B Book Covers

  Cover Photo © RM Walker

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Edited by Jennifer Leigh Jones and Rebecca Stewart of Bookends Editing.

  Contents

  Part One

  Burn the witch

  Flowers

  “We’ll never be your brothers”

  Porthaven

  Sleepover

  Haunted

  Twin kissing

  Destruction

  Magic

  April, May, June

  The witching hours

  Echoes

  Part Two

  Scared

  Distrust

  The history teacher

  Duet

  The Council of One Purpose

  Circle of Five

  Bleeding

  Fight

  Memories

  “We’re in it together”

  Truth and Lies

  Lost

  Found

  Chalk Circles

  Morning after

  Explanations

  Magic

  Fire

  Show and Tell

  Heart of Polished Stone

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Part One

  Burn the witch

  The rain bounced up from the muddy ground, splashing her bare legs. She was soaked through to the skin. Her hair plastered to her face, caught in her mouth and in her eyes. She wanted to move the strands to clear her vision, but she was terrified of what she would see.

  The roar of the rain was not enough to drown out the braying jeers of a crowd she couldn’t see.

  She was shoved hard between her shoulder blades, and she staggered forward, losing her footing in the slick mud. She was dragged to her feet by her hair. It cleared her vision, revealing the horror before her.

  “Move!” The harsh bark behind her was accompanied by another rough shove. The grip on her hair held no mercy as she stumbled.

  “Please! No!” She screamed, but her cries were lost in the mocking taunts of the people around her.

  “Burn her! Burn the witch!”

  The chants were loud in her ears as she was thrust against a wooden stake. Her hands were untied, and a chain bit painfully into her skin as it was wrapped around her thighs and over her chest. Her arms were wrenched behind and chained as tightly as her body. She screamed in agony at the pain that radiated from her shoulder joints, but no relief was given.

  Unrecognisable faces leered and grinned; men, women, and children all gathered to watch in a raging mob of frenzied excitement. The chanting grew into one voice, a voice given strength by the unholy delight of watching her burn.

  Smoke curled up her body from the burning wood around her feet. She was unable to struggle, unable to do anything except proclaim her innocence until her voice broke, her mouth open in a silent scream.

  Heat licked at her legs, the smoke thickened, and the first searing agony of flames caressed her skin.

  She was going to die.

  Lily bolted upright—a strangled yell on her tongue, and the images of flames still in her eyes.

  It was a dream. Just a dream. She wasn’t tied to a stake, she wasn’t being burnt alive, she wasn’t a witch.

  She switched the lamp on with shaky fingers and sank back, her breathing ragged as her heart continued to beat painfully. It’d seemed so real. She could still feel the pain around her calves from the flames licking at her skin. She pushed the bedding down, half expecting to see charred and burnt skin, but her legs were pale and the skin intact.

  It was a nightmare brought on by the day before. A day which had started normally then morphed into something straight from a storybook. Normal became bizarre when the four boys she’d befriended turned out to be fairies. Or fae, as Nate insisted on being called.

  She’d thought it was a cruel deception at first, that they were playing a joke on her. But Nate had proved to her that they weren’t.

  She reached under her mattress and drew out the tiny blue crystal Nate had turned her tear into. They were fairies, fae.

  They’d tried to tell her she was a Seer. And it was there that Lily had drawn the line. She refused point blank to even begin to accept she was some sort of mystic Seer. That was rubbish. She knew what she was, and it wasn’t magical. She was just Lily Adair, a normal girl who happened to be epileptic, like thousands of others around the world. There was nothing unusual or unique about her. Her seizures weren’t visions as Nate had tried to insist. She’d changed the subject by asking questions about what else was real but never strayed into what he wanted to talk about: her.

  She’d wanted to know more about their world, and they told her some fairy tales had their roots in truth, like George and the Dragon, Merlin, and King Arthur. It’d caught her imagination and prompted endless questions, which they’d answered. Until Nate tried to tell her that she was a Seer like Morgan Le Fay. She’d changed the subject abruptly, asking about vampires and werewolves. They explained there was some truth to those stories too. Vampires existed but not the blood-sucking kind of fiction. Instead, they took souls from people, which she didn’t think was much of an improvement. There were few vampires left, and none in Britain, or at least none Jonas was aware of. Werewolves had left Britain when the wolves were eradicated.

  They’d told her things that made her head spin, but every time they’d tried to talk about her, she’d refused to listen. Nate had got frustrated with her and demanded she listen to them, but she’d been saved by her mother coming home, ending the ability to talk freely.

  Everything they’d told her whirled through her mind, all jumbled together. There was so much information and no one else she could to talk to. She couldn’t talk to her mother; she wouldn’t understand, and who could blame her? She’d assume something was wrong with Lily and take her to a doctor first thing Monday morning. And they’d have her sectioned for madness if she said anything to them. Or it could be worse, her mother could panic and decide to move them away quicker than Lily could blink.

  Her thoughts had run wild in her head until everything had tangled together into one of the most terrifying nightmares Lily could remember. It’d seemed so painfully real, more like a memory than a dream. Was she what they said she was? Was she a Seer? What the hell did that even mean? She stamped on the niggling doubt; it was too frightening to even consider. They were wrong. They must be. It was only a dream, a product of everything she’d learnt the day before and nothing more.

  She stared down at the crystal in her hand. It was beautiful, completely smooth with no angles or edges. Even in the low light of her lamp, it seemed to glow from the inside. It wasn’t natural, and an uneasy feeling slid down her spine. She put it under her mattress and buried her head into the softness of her pillow. Determined not to think of anything fantastical or frightening, she concentrated on her French verb tables; it would be the only way she’d sleep. Hopefully without being burnt alive.

  Flowers

  In the cold light of day, she knew it was just a terrible dream. None of it had happened outside of her feverish imagination. But when she slid her hand under the mattress, her fingers closed over the crystal, and she knew the truth of what the boys were.

  They were coming over later. She wondered if they’d insist on her being this Seer thing again. She didn’t want to argue with them, but she would be firm in telling them that she wasn’t going to talk about it. She wanted time to process what she’d learnt about them. I
f they didn’t like that, then she’d ask them to leave. She was in control of her own life, not them, and she knew exactly who she was and what she wasn’t.

  She picked her way around the art materials that were quickly taking over the kitchen. The table had been moved into the living room to give her mother more room to work. It was something that happened wherever they moved; her mother would choose which room was best and set up her art there.

  “Did you sleep well?” asked her mother, wiping her brush on a cloth before dipping it into a brilliant shade of blue.

  “Yeah. That’s looking great. They’re going to love it.” Lily watched as her mother brought to life the skies above Crowder Manor. Her mother’s incredible talent was the reason Matt’s parents commissioned her to paint their home through the four seasons. The commitment would keep them here for at least the academic year. Lily was hoping for longer, mostly because of her friendship with the boys.

  “It’s going well,” Lynda murmured. “But this is the part where they might think I’ve died. It’ll take a while before I surface long enough for them to see this.”

  “I’ll keep reminding Matt you still breathe.” She picked up her mother’s cup of coffee and grimaced; a slick of oil paint lay on top of the dregs.

  “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Lily.” Her tone was serious, always an alarm bell.

  Lily was certain her mother hadn’t seen her wrapped around the four boys in the living room, and she didn’t think she’d heard anything. But this was her mother, and in her experience, she possessed a superpower for catching her out when she tried to hide things.

  “I know we’ve had the talk.” Her mother made air quotes around the word talk, and for a few seconds it threw Lily. “But if things are going to get serious with Matt, please, please, protect yourself. I know you’re sensible, but things can happen when you fall in love for the first time. Make him wear a condom.”

  She sagged back against the counter, relief warring with embarrassment. “He’s not my boyfriend. He hasn’t asked me to go out with him, let alone sleep with him.”

  “I think he’s working on getting you to fall for him without you realising it,” her mother said with a smile. “He’s a nice lad, they all are. I’ve seen how Matt looks at you. He thinks you’re special, and he’s right. But he’s staking his claim as well. If you’re not interested in him that way, you need to let him know.”

  Lily turned away and made some fresh coffee. He wasn’t serious in liking her like that. He might have held her hand, but so had the others, and he knew that. If he was serious with her, wouldn’t he ask her to go out with him? Or at least make it known that he wanted to date her. And wouldn’t he tell the others to back off? In fact, with everything that happened, she was certain it wasn’t anything except friendship. Plus, there was the very real possibility they were only showing interest in her because they thought she was like them. Her shoulders slumped, and her heart sank.

  “I think he’s just being friendly. I think they’re all being friendly because you’re painting the Manor for them.” Lily handed her mother a mug and sipped her own.

  “If you insist.” Her mother shrugged and put her coffee down on the side. “But I think you’re short-sighted.”

  Lily emptied her coffee in the sink, no longer having the stomach for anything. She crossed to the open door and looked out over their garden. She needed a diversion from her thoughts. The grass was on the long side; mowing it would keep her busy. “Is there a lawn mower in the shed?” she asked.

  “I think so. I don’t really know.” The sound of her brush on the canvas told Lily she was already zoning out.

  Ten minutes later, Lily had her earphones in and was singing along to her music as she pushed the mower over the grass. It was harder than expected, but it was a good workout, and it was nice being in the fresh air, not thinking of anything except the lyrics she was murdering.

  Her earphones were suddenly plucked from her ears, and her eyes were covered with someone’s hands. She let out a scream of fright. The mower cut off the moment she lifted her hands from the handle.

  “Lily!” A huge crash sounded from inside the cottage, and she was released instantly. She whirled to see Josh and Jake standing there, looking contrite.

  “We called, but you didn’t hear.” Jake shrugged apologetically. “Sorry.”

  Her mother came rushing out, coming to a stop when she saw the twins. “Oh, damn! I knocked over my paints.” She rushed back in.

  “Hang on. I’ll be back.” Lily headed towards the cottage. Her heart was still racing frantically from the fright. She heard the mower start up again, but she didn’t look back as she went into the kitchen to see the damage.

  “Did you ruin the picture?” she asked, moving forwards to see the tubes of oil on the floor, along with a shattered mug. Coffee spilled out across the stone flagged flooring.

  “No, fortunately I’d stepped back to drink. I broke the mug, though. What did they do?”

  “They scared me. I didn’t hear them come in.” Lily helped to clear the mess up. “How’d they get in?”

  “Not through here. I expect they came through the woods. Didn’t you hear them?” her mother asked.

  “My earphones were in.” She binned the broken mug.

  “Silly boys.” Her mother crossed to the window. “They’re atoning themselves by finishing up the lawn though.”

  Lily crossed to look out the back door. They’d both stripped off their shirts and tied them around their waists, leaving them bare-chested. One pushed the mower up, then the other would push it down, showing the muscles in their backs and arms nicely. Her breath caught in her throat. They were gorgeous.

  “They make quite a sight,” her mother said. “If I could do portraits, I’d love to paint them.”

  “Mum!”

  “What? I’m an artist! I appreciate the perfect symmetry of them.”

  “That’s freaky.” Lily laughed.

  “Give them ten years; when they’re men, they’ll be knockouts,” she replied.

  “They’re gorgeous now.” Lily leant against the doorway, watching the play of muscles on the twin who was pushing the mower.

  “Ah, is that how the wind blows, then?” her mother asked softly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You prefer them to Matt?” Her mother wiped her hands on her cloth. “That could get messy. Despite what you think, Matt is smitten with you. And two of them? Identical? How would you know which was which?”

  “I think all four of them are gorgeous. I’m not an artist, but I can also appreciate perfect symmetry. That doesn’t mean I want to date any of them.” And wasn’t that the truth. She wouldn’t be able to choose between them if she had to, which she didn’t. They were only friends.

  “Looks aren’t everything,” her mother agreed. “There’s some lemonade in the fridge. Give them a drink now that they’ve finished the lawn.” She went back to her painting.

  Lily watched as they put the mower back then came towards the back door. The slight sheen of sweat over their chests was doing strange things to her stomach.

  “We emptied the box over the hedge into the forest. It’s where everyone puts the cuttings.”

  “We’re sorry for frightening you both. Did we muck up your painting?”

  “Not at all! Don’t worry!” her mother called from behind the canvas. “Lily, the lemonade.”

  Lily blushed, aware she’d been staring at them. She crossed to the fridge.

  “Thanks for finishing up the lawn for me,” she said as she drew out the bottle and fetched some glasses. “Mum, you want one?”

  “No, thank you, darling. Take them outside. There’s more room.”

  Lily turned and nearly dropped everything; they were right behind her, smiling at her. They took the bottle and the glasses from her and went back outside, calling a thank you to her mother. She followed and settled down on the grass with them.
/>   “We didn’t mean to frighten you, Lily Pad.” Jake poured lemonade into the glasses.

  They looked exactly as they had the day before. Same dark hair falling into their eyes, same wicked smirks tugging their lips. It was hard to believe they’d explained to her they were fairies.

  Fairies!

  She was talking to fairies, and the realisation made a hundred butterflies take up residence inside her.

  “Did you come through the woods?” she asked, sitting cross-legged with them on the grass. She kept her gaze on her fingers as she fiddled with the ties on her tennis shoes, but she was aware of every move they made. It was surreal to think she was sitting with fairies. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming again.

  Jake handed her a glass. “Yeah. We tried your front door but got no answer. We heard the mower so figured you were out back.”

  “Thanks. Where’s Matt and Nate?” she asked.

  “Nate’s at Matt’s.” Josh drank his lemonade, his gaze still on Lily. “They’ll be down after lunch, or we can hike through the woods and meet them there.”

  “I’ve been wanting to go into the woods,” she said, looking behind them at the trees. “I haven’t had the chance yet.”

  “Finish up your drink, and we’ll show you. There’s still a couple of hours before we’re supposed to meet them. We can explore for a bit.”

  A ripple of excitement went through her as she gazed towards the trees again. There was no breeze today; the leaves were still and silent. But they called to her, tugged at something deep inside. It was a longing to explore their secrets, to sink into the peace they offered.

  She shook her head at her fanciful thoughts and got up to take the empty glasses, but they beat her to it and carried them in for her. They rinsed off the glasses at the sink, moving in perfect synchronisation. She studied their backs, checking for signs of any hidden wings. She knew they’d said they didn’t have any, but even so, she looked. There were no signs of anything remotely wing-like. It was strange to think they were anything but what they appeared to be normal teenage boys.

 

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