Table of Contents
Marked by Time
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
About the Author
Marked by Time
By Victoria Basnuevo
Copyright © 2017 Victoria Basnuevo
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
Edited by Tracy Vincent
Cover Design by Desiree DeOrto
Interior Design by Cover Me Darling
Formatting by Athena Interior Book Design
I stared at the wall before me and took a brief moment to catch my breath. I was drenched in sweat and my body begged me to just stop moving. I didn’t listen. I wouldn’t. I was addicted to the rush of adrenaline surging through my veins, addicted to the anticipation of the fight. I thought my daily run was energizing. This made it look like I had been lounging on my sofa eating junk food instead of exercising for the last hour.
“Let’s go, Sky!”
I smiled, keeping my expression hidden from my training partner, before having to take a quick side step.
“Getting frustrated?” I made the mistake of letting a gasp come out in my taunt.
“Getting tired? Come on, Sky, your human’s showing.”
I used the wind to leap at least ten feet into the air to avoid his next blow. I turned to face him when I landed. He had moved the targets off to the side and was slightly crouched. I smiled and got into a similar stance. My muscles ached, but my blood hummed.
I came alive.
“Not even close!” I shouted back. “Bring it on,” I said to myself more than him. He smirked slightly and I shivered in anticipation of the onslaught I was about to receive. He moved forward, more fluid than water and more aggressive than fire.
The dance began.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” My books were scattered all over the floor and the front of my jacket was covered in mud. A group of nearby students laughed as I piled everything in my arms and took off, the voices shouting my name all the motivation I needed to dart back into the covered hallway and keep running.
All I wanted was to get home without having to deal with them, but the second I got out of Spanish class, they were on me like a pack of wolves. I kept running, my hair coming free from its easy ponytail and my shoes trying to find traction on the slippery tile until I made it out to the grassy patch that connected the two buildings of my high school.
After having hidden in my house for the past three weeks during winter break, actively avoiding Camille’s and Melanie’s attempts at contact, they weren’t going to make getting home easy. I started weaving between people and slipping around corners as I made my way to the second building. I skidded through the doors and was almost trampled by the eager students who were leaving, having to juggle the books in my arms so they wouldn’t fall again. Behind me, the girls were facing the same issue as they tried to catch up.
“Skyler! Sky!” The high-frequency voices rose above the chaos that was the hallway of my bleak high school. They bounced off the white walls and ricocheted off the green, metal lockers that lined the sides. I kept running in the opposite direction, hoping they would stop shouting my name for the world to hear and that I could make it to the bathroom without getting caught.
“Sky!” The voice was coated in sugar, disguising its malicious nature.
“Skyler!” The second was whinier, but I expected as much.
The hallway quieted just a bit, and the two voices screeched my name loud enough for the entire hallway to go silent and part so I was in the line of sight of Camille and Melanie. I tried to follow the crowd, but it was too late. They saw me. I sighed and plastered on a smile sweeter than a piña colada. My cheeks hurt and I hoped my smile didn’t look like a grimace. Please, please, please don’t bother me. I’m almost home.
I straightened my back and slowed to a fast walk, my squeaky shoes marking my path. Behind me, I heard two pairs of heels frantically trying to catch up as the crowd of happy teenagers collapsed into the aisle they made and continued packing up their homework. So much for being left alone. Is it bad I was hoping they would slip?
Camille reached me first. “Hey, Sky.”
My smile miraculously stayed intact as I sent her a nod of acknowledgment. I must have looked pretty convincing if neither one of them commented. However, I noticed Melanie was sporting her “I know something you don’t” face, but that façade swiftly cracked.
“Hey, Mel. What’s up?” I asked her.
She suddenly looked as though she ate something spicy. Her face reddened and sweat dripped down the side of her temple. She started playing with her fingers and wouldn’t make eye contact.
“Uh, n-not much.”
“You okay? You look a little flustered.”
In typical Melanie behavior, she rapid-fired her response, “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine- great, actually- now that Camille is letting me help with your surprise birthday party.” I heard Camille slap her hand to her forehead. “You weren’t supposed to know that last part,” Mel added when Camille looked at her with a glare that would scare the Devil.
“I thought I told you two I didn’t want a big party- or any party.”
“And I thought I told you that having a big party would be the best way to announce to the school that you’re part of our group. It has to outdo all the others!” Camille shot back.
“Guys, I appreciate the offer, but I kind of prefer to stay out of the spotlight. I’m fine with how things are now.”
Camille flipped her hair. “Sky, look, I know you’re saying you want to be left alone, but I think you would benefit from officially joining us. And just think of the party possibilities! I know it’s over a month away, but your birthday is right around Valentine’s Day. I’m picturing red and pink decorations and a red velvet cake with white frosting.” Her eyes glazed over as she stared into her daydream.
“Oh! And heart-shaped balloons and games like spin-the-bottle!” Melanie added. Suddenly, Camille looked at Melanie in fear.
“Mel, Mel! What should she wear?” Camille shrieked.
I looked to the ground sighing for what must have been the hundredth time that day and walked away. They were so lost in their conversation about the details of my unwanted party that they didn’t even notice my departure, something I was grateful for as I made my way through the eager packs of students.
The last thing I wanted for my eighteenth birthday was to be surrounded by people who were shallower than a kiddie pool. Howev
er, that statement was a bit hypocritical coming from me. According to Camille, I belonged in their circle. She thought it was my “destiny” and that I should have been born with the ability to flip my hair perfectly, walk in the tallest of heels without falling, and be able to design the perfect outfit blindfolded. Ironically, I preferred my hair tied up instead of “flippable”, hated wearing the painful shoes that made me too tall, and considered the perfect outfit to be jeans and a comfy shirt. I didn’t belong in the world of popularity, but it was the one I was being roped into.
As I wove through the thinning crowd, my target came into view: the girls’ bathroom, the one right across from the biology lab and the one Camille and Melanie avoided at all cost. The smell was more than enough reason to avoid it, but it gave me the perfect place to change clothes. My muddy jacket would definitely need to be washed later and I saw that my pants had specks of dirt on them, too.
I quickly threw on a thin, long-sleeve shirt and some leggings, laced up my running shoes, and tied up my hair. Taking a peek to make sure the coast was clear, I bolted through the hallways, past the green lockers, and out the door, back into the cold. The wind felt cooler rushing past me and my backpack was heavy, but I was too elated to care as I ran the familiar path home.
Soon after, I opened the door to what my mom and I called home. The lack of banging pots and pans alerted me to the fact that my mom had not yet come home from work. She probably wouldn’t for a bit either, meaning I had a few hours to grab a snack, get into some pajamas, and relax before I was assaulted with the “How was school?” routine.
I dropped my bag on my bed and ran to the kitchen to grab something from the cupboard. There wasn’t much, so I settled on a couple of granola bars and a Gatorade before almost sprinting to the shower. The hot water was calling my name and it removed all the suffocating stress induced by Camille and Melanie. It blanked my mind and I enjoyed the few moments of peace while they lasted.
Too soon, the water turned cold and I grabbed a random set of boyish pajamas: a pair of black basketball shorts, a bright red shirt, and my favorite hoodie. As I looked in the mirror, I smiled, secretly thinking how Cam and Mel would freak out if they saw my latest fashion choice. As far as the Barbies were concerned, this type of stuff should have been eradicated from my closet.
I went to the living room and threw myself onto the couch, snatching the remote from the table and sighing as my body plummeted into the cushions. The mind-numbing cartoons floated in and out of my mind as my eyes closed. I burrowed into my jacket and let the tension slip from my body as my brain shut down for the night. I must have fallen asleep because I wasn’t aware of my surroundings until a character screamed and snapped me out of my blank state.
The sky had darkened, and without lights on or the sun shining through the windows, the apartment looked almost ominous. Mom still wasn’t home, but I wasn’t worried because it was only 8:30. She should be home any- a key jiggled in the lock- minute.
“Skyler?”
“Hey, mom.”
“How was school?”
I totally called it.
“Fine. Boring. Uneventful.”
“How are Camille and Melanie doing?” My mom knew not to press my buttons about the two of them, but she was always wondering how I managed to live two lives.
“Fine,” I responded with a sigh. “They are trying to plan this super extravagant party next month for when I turn eighteen and they want to use it as some big statement that I’m ‘officially part of the group and that it’s imperative the party outdo all others’.” My mom snickered as I mimicked the obnoxiously high voice of Camille. “I didn’t even know they knew what imperative meant.”
“Some people will surprise you in life, Skyler. Keep that in mind as you move forward.”
I raised an eyebrow at her retreating form and shrugged my shoulders before heading to my room.
The scenery blurred until I was sitting in Spanish class once again. Instead of tight clothes, I was wearing faded jeans, a shirt that didn’t suffocate me, and a hoodie. There was no one in the room. Suddenly, cold air swept over my hands, and I looked down to see a thin layer of ice spreading out, coating the desk and traveling across the floor.
I heard shouts of “Weapon!” directed at me and calls for help echo in the air before the brutal cold was replaced with a comforting warmth that soon transformed into a raging inferno that consumed my sight. I saw nothing but red and yellow and orange. As the fire rose around me, the invisible voices heightened in volume. The walls burned away until all I saw were the climbing flames. However, on the desk before me, completely unharmed by the inferno around me, was an old book with a blank cover.
I moved to look inside, but the book would not open. The voices got louder with every attempt. When the pages finally separated, they quieted as darkness emerged from the book, consuming everything and extinguishing the flames. In the background, the insults echoed.
I shot up in bed, a thin layer of sweat dotting my brow. The clock read 3:12 and I fell back into bed with a grunt. The shadows bouncing off the walls shrank my dark room, seeming to trap me in my bed. I opened my window, but the room was still too stifling. My breathing grew heavy and the cold air did nothing to my rising temperature.
Fed up, I grabbed my hoodie and walked out the door and up the concrete stairs until I was on the roof. From up there, I saw the few remaining neighborhood lights flicker off. The never-ending field seemed so much bigger at night than it did from my window or during the day. Above me, the stars played peek-a-boo with the drifting clouds. However, none of these details particularly grabbed me.
At the opposite end of the roof, choosing to face the quieting city in favor of the open expanse, sat a man. He was hunched over like he was deep in thought, so I ignored him. Instead, I let the breeze tickle my cheeks and take the nightmare away. The wind drowned out the screaming that once seemed deafening and the cold put out the fires.
I hadn’t had that dream in years, the last one was around the time when my dad left thirteen years ago. I used to climb into my mom’s bed when it happened, terrified. There was something different about it this time, though. Back then, when I woke up, the dream always felt distant. This time, it felt like it was about to happen, like it was so close that it was suffocating; and that alone was enough to put me on edge for the hours I spent sitting on the roof, gazing at the horizon and occasionally sneaking glances at the man on the other side of the roof.
As the sky lightened, I noticed he was younger than I thought, probably a couple years older than me. He scanned the city, shoulders taut as if he was on guard. He turned and caught me staring. The sun bounced off his face as he shot me a charming smile and I looked away, embarrassed. When I glanced at him again a few minutes later, he looked more relaxed, shoulders slumped and wearing a gentle smile as he kept searching.
When I finally went back to my room, it was with red cheeks and a tired smile. I collapsed into bed for another hour of sleep, dreaming of rising suns and kind smiles.
“Good morning, sweetheart.
Sorry, I wasn’t there when you woke up, but I was called into work early this morning as a last-minute thing. I should be home early though, so I will see you then. Eggs are in the fridge and I made some muffins that are sitting on the counter if you get hungry.
Love you, Mom.”
My mother’s handwriting made me squint as I struggled to read her messy squiggles late Sunday morning. At the mention of muffins, however, my tired body shot like a bullet to the kitchen. Sure enough, sitting in the center of the counter was a plate of her delicious muffins. I entered the kitchen and instantly felt the warmth, meaning the muffins recently came out of the oven. I grabbed one and a glass of milk before taking up residence on the sofa. I bit into the baked good and relished the blueberry flavor. Before long, two delicious muffins and the glass of milk were devoured and I was contently lounging on the sofa watching cartoons considered too young for me. Sundays were the best. The day b
efore had been spent doing homework after sleeping in late, and I was free to do nothing for the rest of the day.
I turned off the TV and jumped off the sofa and went to my room, ready to do something that could be considered productive. I slipped into a black top and red workout leggings, grabbed my keys and phone and bolted out the door. Dealing with several snobbish people in one week merits a long run. I ran faster and longer than ever, relishing the burn that ignited my muscles. This was definitely what I needed.
I ran for a bit longer before turning in the direction of home. On my way back, I paid more attention to the scenery I had bolted past: the apartment buildings of various colors and their unique decorations, the people walking their dogs, and the way the clouds made the sky look like an ocean filled with marshmallows. The quiet environment was great for clearing my mind of the invisible screams from my dreams. I sighed in contentment. I didn’t think about classes. I didn’t think about clothes. I didn’t think about Camille or Melanie or the trouble they caused me. I was at peace.
I slowed my pace as my apartment building finally came into view. The building seemed intimidating in the dimming light. The roof appeared so much more barren—almost lifeless. However, when the moon rose, it was the roof that gave me solace from the nightmares that plagued me.
Since Monday, my evening routine changed. I would finish dinner, say one last “goodnight” to my mom, and go to sleep…only to wake up sweating more than the night before, each time shocked that a scream never ripped from my throat. If Mom wasn’t home, I dropped the temperature, hoping that doing so would somehow lead to a more peaceful sleep. However, the flames still came and my only relief came from standing atop the building’s roof to experience the open air. No matter how loud the voices were or how high the flames rose, I only thought of the simple leather book with no title or any way to open it. In class, it was all I could think of; and when I went to the roof every night, I tried to think of a different way I could try to open it. But my results were empty as each attempt failed and resulted in another restless, thought-filled night.
Marked by Time (The Mark Series Book 1) Page 1
