The Breaker's Promise (YA Urban Fantasy) (Fixed Points Book 2)

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The Breaker's Promise (YA Urban Fantasy) (Fixed Points Book 2) Page 4

by Conner Kressley


  “Promise?” I asked, running my fingers across the dark stubble on his cheek.

  “Breaker’s promise,” he answered.

  I stood, feeling warm and dizzy, buzzed and sad all at the same time. “Good,” I answered. Because, at this point, I think one more surprise would put me in the grave.” I turned, heading to the mirror to make sure I didn’t look as disheveled as I felt, when I slammed into something. I stumbled backward. That didn’t make any sense. Nothing was in front of me. It was like I had walked headfirst into an invisible wall. And invisible wall, or an…

  Oh, oh God.

  “No. No, no, no, no, no!” I said, feeling the invisible mass before me; feeling its arms, its shoulders, its long flowing hair. “Flora, is that you?”

  I thought we were alone. Owen and I had rehashed everything in this room. We had made out. We had talked about all that happened. Oh Lord, I called myself the Bloodmoon.

  Flora came into view before me, biting her lip, her hands clasped together nervously. “I guess I’d better get a shovel,” she said.

  Chapter 4

  Lake Views and Sweater Slivers

  “What the hell are you doing here, Flora?!” I yelled; my heart racing.

  She ran her hands through her long red hair three times in rapid succession. “Um, it’s my room,” she answered.

  “You know what I mean! Why didn’t you say something when we came in?” I had royally screwed up this time; extra royally screwed up. Everything, and I do mean everything, Owen and I had been trying to keep secret had just been laid out in front of Flora. And, while she was the closest thing outside of Owen that I had to an actual friend in Weathersby, putting the fate of my life in her hands wasn’t something I was too keen on doing.

  “I didn’t know I was invisible,” she admitted, squeaking like a mouse that had been caught in a trap. “It just happens and sometimes I don’t even realize it. I was going to say ‘Hi’, but before I got the chance you guys started yelling.” Her fingers ran tracks through her hair again. “I was going to leave, but you had closed the door behind you. And if you’d have seen the door open and close by itself then you’d have known I was here and- Well, we’d have been in the same position we are now. So I figured I’d just sit on the bed and wait for you to go. But then you started kissing, and I was afraid that you were gonna…” she trailed off. “So I got off the bed and stood by the door.” She threw her hands out in front of her. “But not toward you. I definitely wouldn’t have just stood there and watched you guys…you know. So I had my back turned, and that’s why I didn’t move when you ran into me.” She exhaled, flattening as though saying all of that had taken the air right out of her.

  My face got hot. “Just tell me what you heard,” I said, changing the ‘Owen and Cresta’s sexy time’ subject.

  “Not much,” she shook her head frantically. “Just about you trying to hide the fact that you’re actually the Bloodmoon from the Council of Masons and hating Owen’s ‘perfect’ because you guys are in love.” She bit her lip. “Oh, and about you being uncomfortable because they’ve seen each other naked. But honestly, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. Throughout the entire Middle Ages, nudity was a rather fluid thing. In my ‘Terrains of the World’ class, we learned that there are whole tribes in South Africa that never wear any-“

  “I’m not the Bloodmoon,” I interrupted. “I mean, I know I said I was, but that was totally a joke.”

  “Really?” Flora crinkled her nose. “It didn’t sound like a joke.”

  “We’ll you’ve never been around baseline humans, have you Flora?” I asked, shooting Owen a look. “That’s what our jokes sound like.”

  Flora narrowed her eyes, scrunched her nose and looked back and forth between Owen and me quizzically. “I don’t think so,” she finally said. “I studied Logistics of Baseline Humor throughout History when I was a youngling just like everyone else, and I don’t remember any jokes sounding like that.”

  “Oh my God, that’s a class?” I asked, exasperated.

  “It certainly is,” Flora beamed. “A class that I flew through. I’m not going to tell your secret, Cresta.” She looked from Owen to me and back again. “Any of them.” Her eyes were clear, without a hint of deceit in them; though maybe some Breakers were better about hiding that sort of thing than others. Lord knows if you’d have asked me six months ago, I’d have told you that Owen was nothing more than a cute guy from California with a pesky girlfriend and a smile that made my knees jelly.

  “For what it’s worth, I believe you,” I told her. “But I can’t take the chance.” I folded my arms and turned to Owen. With a bit of guilt pooling in my chest, I said, “Do it,” and shut my eyes tight so that I wouldn’t have to watch.

  “Do what?” he asked.

  I opened my eyes. “You know, the thing; the thing where you take pieces of her memory away, like you did with Casper.”

  Owen pursed his lips tightly. “Um, that’s not really the same thing, Cress. Casper is a baseline. His psyche was pretty much unprotected. Breakers don’t work the same way.”

  I turned back to Flora, who had a mile wide grin plastered across her face; part smugness, part delight. “You didn’t know that?” She asked.

  “Apparently, there’s a lot to stuff that I still don’t know.” I was pissed, and starting to panic. I did believe Flora. She was the type of person who was easy to know and, though she had only been at the school for a short time, she struck me as a trustworthy friend. But that only went so far. Part of what Owen and I had always been afraid of was the Council prying into our minds and stealing the secrets away. To that end, it wouldn’t matter what Flora’s intentions were. The more people who knew, the bigger the risk. “What about my mother, or my mothers rather. They wiped a piece of my memory away, and I’m a Breaker.”

  “They did,” Owen conceded. “But that sort of precision takes years to perfect. Trying to do that inside of Flora’s mind without the proper training would be like tap dancing through a minefield and hoping we didn’t set anything off. One wrong move and the damage we’d do would be catastrophic.”

  I looked at Flora. The smile had lessened on her face.

  I guess the threat of imminent brain damage will do that to you.

  A piece of me wanted to risk it, to jump into Flora’s mind and wish for the best. But I couldn’t do that to her. She was my friend. She was innocent in all of this, and she didn’t deserve to suffer because she happened to be standing by when my lips finally loosened. To subject her to that sort of risk- Well, that sounded like something the Bloodmoon would do.

  “I won’t say anything,” Flora promised me again. She was close now. She grabbed my hand and cupped it between her own. “Maybe this is fate’s plan. Maybe I was always supposed to know; like maybe there’s a reason for it.”

  “She’s not the Bloodmoon,” Owen said from beside me. His voice was stone and left no room for contestation.

  “Okay,” Flora answered, still holding my hand, still looking into my eyes. “Maybe I can help ensure that. It’ll be like a club; like a secret club.” Her face lit up. “You know, I saw this movie once, as part of our Initiation to Baseline Cinematic Cultures class, and it was about these kids who made this club and they’d share all their dangerous secrets with each other.” She shook her head, as though someone was asking her a question. “They all died at the end, but for a while, it seemed like they were enjoying themselves.”

  I pulled away from Flora. What could I do? Owen couldn’t take the memory from her without potentially turning her into a vegetable and, though God only knew what my shade shaping abilities were capable of, I was still ages of away from being able to control it. All I could do was trust her; trust her and hope that everything turned out okay.

  “You can’t say anything,” I said, setting my jaw. “You have to promise. You have to swear.”

  “Not one word,” she answered.

  “That’s not good enough,” Owen threw himsel
f between us. Shooting Flora a cutting look, he said, “Swear on fate’s hand.”

  She burst into laughter, but Owen’s face remained a mask. “You’re old fashioned, aren’t you?”

  “Do it,” he demanded. “Say the words.”

  “Fine,” she muttered; her voice steadying. “Fate’s hand, I swear on fate’s hand.”

  Though I had no idea why, I could tell that, at least to Owen, that was a big deal. It was big enough that, when the words tumbled out of Flora’s mouth, he relaxed a little.

  “Thank you,” I said under my breath and, for some reasons, tears welled behind my eyes, stinging and hot. Maybe it was finally having someone other than Owen in on our secrets; someone who, at least cosmetically wished the best for me. Maybe it was all the events of the day crashing into me at once. Or maybe I was just afraid, but I couldn’t stay there anymore. “I-I need to go,” I said, and started out the door.

  “Where are you going?” Owen yelled from behind me.

  Without breaking stride or turning around, I answered. “To talk to someone.”

  The janitor’s closet was, as always, empty when I ducked into it. Come to think of it, I had never seen a janitor in Weathersby. Somehow, things still got cleaned up and, in the case of Echo’s office (at least for today) citrus-y and fresh. Locking the door behind me, I crumpled to the floor. This was where I went after Wendy helped me sneak out. This was where Merrin lit the candle and helped me see my mother. In a sense, this was the very last place inside of Weathersby where we were all together; Owen, Mom, and Casper, and me. And so, this was where I went when I needed to calm down, when I needed to feel like myself, when I needed to talk to him.

  Gathering myself, I dug through the clutter stacked against the wall until I found it. Pushing past bottles of half used cleaner, mops, pails, and vacuum bags, I pulled out my treasure; a sliver of black cloth cut into a triangle.

  After we sent Casper off to his new life, Owen and I burned all of his things; clothes, ID, even his old glasses. We destroyed every trace that he had ever lived-Well, almost every trace. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let every piece of him go up in flames. So, when Owen wasn’t looking, I snatched one of Casper’s sweaters; a black v neck that read ‘Tea isn’t the only thing Southern guys do sweeter’.

  At first, it was just a reminder; a trinket of the best friend that I, or anybody else, would ever have. But leaving Casper behind was harder than I imagined it would be; which was telling, cause I already thought it would be pretty damn impossible. Before long, I realized that, with the sweater as a token, a candle, a mirror, and a bit of concentration, I’d be able to locate Casper the same way Merrin had located Mom for me.

  I resisted the idea at first. I had given Casper up for a reason, so that both of us could move on; me in my danger-ridden Breaker life, and him in the new happy life he had always deserved. But watching him couldn’t be so bad, right? He wouldn’t even know. So I started sneaking away into this closet and watching him.

  He was happy; which made me thrilled and sad all at the same time. He lived in some small town not too different from Crestview. I watched him go to the General Store, hang out with friends, go on a couple of dates. I even got to see him go to the prom last month, with a cute curly haired brunette. It was weird watching him at first, especially since they all called him Stephen; and he answered to it. He wasn’t Stephen. He was Casper, my Casper. Except he wasn’t mine anymore. He belonged to this new town, this new life; to the General Store and the curly haired brunette.

  I lit a candle and placed it in front of the mirror. Then, tearing the smallest of slivers from Casper’s sweater, I fed it to the flame. That’s the way this worked. The fire needed a sacrifice, something connected to the person you’re trying to find in order to work correctly. Watching it disintegrate and morph to ash and smoke sent a thorn of pain into my heart. This was the only thing of Casper’s I had left, the only thing of his that I would ever have. And it was almost gone.

  The smoke fogged the mirror and, within that fog, an image began to take shape. I smiled the kind of reflexive, free smile that I only got when Casper was around- and this was as close to ‘around’ as Casper was going to get these days.

  He sat on a familiar bench, looking out at a lake, staring off into the sunset. His hair was short now; which I didn’t like, not that I got a say in it anymore. And he wore a sweater, jeans, and a pair of red shoes so ugly that they had to come from the curly haired brunette, because there was no way in hell my Casper would have picked them himself.

  “Hey Cass,” I said, folding my knees up against my chest and wrapping my arms around them. It was funny. As time passed, I found Casper more and more at this lake. And, save for a time or two where the curly haired brunette was with him, he always came by himself. I had no idea what he was looking at, since the lake was always empty. I liked to think that at least part of him was looking for me, but I knew that wasn’t true. Owen took me away from him completely. I could walk right past him wearing a ‘Cars Drive on Roads’ t-shirt, and he wouldn’t blink an eye. This was as close to a conversation as Casper and I would ever have again.

  “Merrin came back today. She still hates me,” I said. “Oh, and get this; the Council jacked up her powers, so now she’s even more of a super bitch.” I pulled at my finger, wanting more than anything for Casper to answer me and knowing in my heart that he never would.

  “I made a mistake Cass. I don’t think I can do this without you.” Tears formed behind my eyes and I bit my lip. I would not cry. “I just get so lost sometimes, you know? I miss Mom and I miss you, and I really wish we were all just back in Crestview together, bitching about the fact that there’s nothing to do.”

  It was no use. The tears that I tried to stop came, pouring from my eyes. “I should have listened to Wendy. She told me not to turn away from you, and I did it anyway. I’m so sorry Cass. I just wanted you to be safe. I just- I don’t know what I want anymore. I’m scared so much. I’m scared that the Council is going to find out the truth about me, and sometimes I’m scared that they won’t. What if I am the Bloodmoon, Cass? What if everything they said about me is true. I mean, I don’t think I could ever do those horrible things, but I didn’t think I could ever give you up either, and I did that.” He was tossing rocks into the lake and watching them sink, completely unaware of me.

  I took a deep breath, wiped my eyes, and steadied myself. “I sorta just wish you were here to tell me we’d be okay. I think, it if was coming from you, I might actually believe it.” I looked at the sweater sliver. It had maybe two views left in it if I was lucky. And after it was gone, Casper would be too. He’d be gone forever.

  “Goodnight Cass,” I said, said, stuffing the sweater back into its hiding place. “Sweet dreams.” I blew the candle out, and watched him fade away.

  Chapter 5

  A Matter of Perception

  Six days before he died in my arms, I felt like I was losing my mind. Merrin had been in Weathersby for three days, walking around like the Council’s sharp-eyed lap dog, and it was starting to really piss me off. She was everywhere. Her perfect ass was there when I woke up in the morning, and it was there when I went to sleep at night. I’d be in my classes, turn around, and see her peering at me. She was in the library when I needed to study, in the lunchroom when I went to eat. And, though I couldn’t be certain, I was pretty sure she followed me into the bathroom once. She was here to watch me and, as it turned out, she was being very thorough.

  It was the same for Owen, not that I had been given the chance to talk to Owen much since Merrin’s arrival. With Merrin and (through Merrin’s eyes) the Council of Masons watching us, Owen and I needed to be very careful with the way we interacted. Even the slightest hint of our true relationship had to be cut out of our daily routine. We couldn’t touch like lovers. We couldn’t laugh like lovers. I was afraid to even look at him for too long with Merrin getting suspicious.

  To make matters worse, as Owen’s ‘perfect’, it
totally made sense for Merrin to hang around him and (in some cases) off of him pretty much twenty four seven. Every time I saw them, Merrin had her hand looped around Owen’s arm. She had her head on his shoulder. Once, she even had her hand in his pocket; like they were on the frigging Wonder Years or something.

  And the worst part was; I, Cresta Karr, Owen’s actual real life girlfriend, couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I had to sit there and watch them act like a couple because, as far as anyone could know, there wasn’t a reason for them not to. It was enough to make my head explode. Thank God for Flora. At least, since she had found out the truth, I had someone to vent to about all of this.

  “And I mean, like, how is she even in all of these places at once?” I asked, walking with Flora toward the cafeteria. “It’s like the Council split her into a dozen gorgeous pieces of bitch just to screw with me.” I looked over, and saw no one. “Could you not be invisible right now?” I sighed. “People will think I’m some lunatic talking to herself.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t realize. It’s hard to tell sometimes,” Flora said, coming into view. “Though, perhaps it would be better if you didn’t speak of it at all, given the nearly omnipresent nature of her-How did you put it- stunning ass.”

  “I know,” I shook my head. “But I just have to talk to somebody about it. And I’m afraid to do the mind meld thing with Owen. She’s so close to him all the time. What if she can sense it or something?”

  “That would be unfortunate,” Flora muttered. Her arms were folded tight against her chest and she hunched over as she walked; giving her the appearance of someone not quite as Amazonian as she was.

  “Why are you so nervous?” I asked.

  “I’m fairly certain I did not do well on yesterday’s North American Works of Cinema finals,” she answered.

  “North American Works of what?” I answered. “You studied movies? Where do you get these classes?” I asked, thinking my yesterday; which was a one two punch of Advanced Calculus and a pop quiz in Portuguese. “Besides, I’m sure you did fine.”

 

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