KIngdom of Embers (Kingdom Journals Book 1)

by Tricia Copeland

  Can I have normal children? I scribbled on the sheet. How long will I live? Can I compel someone? Would holy water burn me?

  My alarm for dinner dinged, and I stashed the books and question page into my backpack. Looking over my image in the mirror, I hoped Mother would be okay with a pair of pants and a sweater. She tended to be low key on Saturdays anyway.

  As I guessed, Mother accepted my outfit, and the meal felt less formal. I listened to their conversations on politics, culture, and current events, all the while thinking about the two secret projects I’d amassed. I would need to balance time at the library and time at the bookstore. I’d noted Fahim kept evening hours Monday and Tuesday, so I could use those days to find Chase. If I missed him at the library, and too much time hadn’t passed, then I might be able to catch his scent. Had I decided to stalk him? No, I’d hang out at the library until he showed up.

  After dinner, I wandered back to my room and started my real homework. I worked slowly, texting with Sophie every few minutes. She complained about having to stay home and babysit her brother while her parents went out. I wondered what she would think if she knew I hung out with five-hundred-plus-year-old people most of the time.

  Skimming Macbeth, my phone dinged, and I read Sophie’s new message. NICK WANTS TO KNOW IF IT’S OKAY TO CALL YOU.

  What bad timing, I thought. Between Fahim and Eden, Chase, and Nick, I’d gotten myself into three volatile situations within the span of three days. But Nick was cute and mostly nice, and Mother finally agreed to let me go to a dance with a boy.

  Sophie texted a question mark when I guessed my reply didn’t come fast enough.

  SURE, I wrote to her.

  Reading though Homer’s The Odyssey I fell asleep on the open book. As thoughts of Shakespeare’s fortune-telling witches, Fahim’s bookstore, and Chase danced in my brain, they comingled to form a dream wherein Mother arranged for my marriage to Macbeth. I saw myself clinging to his dead body. When I looked into his ashen face, it was Chase’s, and I sat upright and screamed.

  In a flash, Elizabeth and Mother appeared in front of me. “Dear, what’s wrong?” Mother questioned.

  “I was just dreaming.” I stood up to reassure them I was fine.

  Mother took my hand. “You aren’t having visions of imaginary people again are you? Maybe Los Angeles isn’t the best area for you.”

  “Vampires have dreams like humans. It was a dream.” I scanned their faces as Orm entered the room.

  Orm’s left eyebrow cocked up. “But witches don’t have dreams. They have visions.”

  “This was definitely a dream.” I prayed I was correct.

  “Working out your apprehensions maybe. We can talk about it tomorrow.” Mother cupped her hand against my cheek.

  I lowered myself to the mattress. “Thanks. I’m fine now.”

  They retreated, and I worked to calm my pulse and breath rate. What if it were a vision? What if Chase died because of me? If he didn’t know about witches, maybe I should forget about him. He’d probably be safer. But then I thought about the possibility of his missing witch parent returning and inserting himself or herself into his life when he turned eighteen. Did I have a duty to prepare him for that? Would I want to be prepared for that?

  If honest, I would have to admit I longed for my childhood friend. Further, he might be an important part of me figuring out the riddle of my eighteenth birthday. I could protect him and teach him to protect himself. Wondering how long half witches lived, I decided to stay my course and camp out at the library till I found him.

  I set my morning alarm for eleven and took out my school texts and studied until falling into a slight slumber again.

  Having shot out of bed, I dressed and showered and then entered the kitchen at twelve.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you up so early?” Orm asked.

  “I have a lot of work for school. I need to go to the library again.”

  “Ah, the sort of history paper.”

  “Yes. Would it kill you to have any real books around here?”

  “You would never leave the house,” Orm suggested.

  “That may be true.” I picked up an apple and sank my teeth into it.

  “I will drive you.”

  “I can take the bus. I hate to make you go out on your day off.”

  “I wouldn’t rest a bit knowing that rogue vampire is still on the loose.”

  In my room, I studied my outfit in the mirror. I’d chosen a purple top, thinking the color might help with Chase’s memory of me. Slipping some socks on, I pulled on my ankle boots and grabbed my backpack. After Orm dropped me off, I planned to loop by Fahim’s shop, drop off the books, then head back to the library.

  When Orm pulled up to the library entrance. “Here you are. I will be back at five.”

  “Okay, thanks for driving me.” I stepped from the car to the sidewalk and waved goodbye as he drove away. Nervous, I hit my phone on my leg. I extended my arms, savoring the warmth as the sun bathed my skin. Popular vampire literature had vampires all wrong. We loved sun. Much like other animals, we conserved energy if we let the sun heat our bodies rather than doing it ourselves. But I couldn’t dawdle. Picking up my pace, I reached the bookstore.

  The witch’s hum picked at my ears, and I shuddered. Forcing energy into my cloak, I opened the door.

  “Alena.” Eden called to me as soon as I was inside.

  From the overwhelming smell of testosterone and adrenaline, I guessed the back room held as many as twenty vampires. I hesitated.

  “Sundays are busy, child.” In a second she closed the distance between us. “Come in. You’re safe with me.”

  “Would I be safe alone back there?”

  “Vampires are private and sometimes unstable people. Best if you make introductions one on one first.”

  “Okay.” I realized all the times I’d socialized with other vampires were under controlled circumstances at Mother’s parties and events. I imagined her guest list might be more of a domesticated population than those gathered in the back bar. Not moving from my position, I swung my bag around to the front of my body.

  “I brought the books back.” I handed the stack to Eden. “I have some questions but don’t have time today.” I glanced warily at the bar. “I noticed you were closed Monday and Tuesday till evening. I can only come during the school day, so I won’t be back till Wednesday.”

  “What time is your lunch, child?” She ran her hand down my arm and squeezed my hand.

  “Eleven thirty.”

  “You come by then. We’ll be here.”

  “Thanks.” I slung my bag onto my back and exited the shop.

  With that errand accomplished, I focused on the next task. Would Chase need more study time? If he was there, what would I say? It’ll come to you, I told myself as I clicked through several options in my head, all of which sounded like cheesy pickup lines.

  At the library, I chose a seat in the center beside the aisle to the stairwell and elevator and laid my backpack on the table. Homer’s The Odyssey fell open to the page I’d fallen asleep on, and I started reading.

  I read through the text but surveyed the room every few seconds. A half hour and then an hour went by, and I grew stiff and restless. Stowing my books in my bag, I took the stairs to the top floor, making a mental note of the floor plan. Rounding back to the first floor, I typed in witches and European literature into a computer terminal. The search listed the same results as before, and I reclaimed my seat in the middle of the room.

  Having finished the section on Circe in The Odyssey, I opened The Crystal Cave by Mary Stewart. Reading the text, I grew consumed by the story of the boy Merlin, a bastard child like me, misunderstood and cast out for possessing psychic abilities. My eyes raced over the pages as the tale unfolded.

  A knock on my table brought me from my trance, and I looked up to see Chase standing in front of me.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He slid his hand in his pock
et.

  Embarrassed, and angry I’d let my guard down in a public place, my face burned with blood rushing to it. “No. It’s fine.” I studied him, noticing his heightened heart rate, quickened breathing, and sweating palms. A hint of a ping of magic emanated from him. I focused on his face. The right phrase didn’t come to me. I had no clue what to say.

  Shaking his head, he laughed nervously and looked at the ceiling, the floor, and back at me. “Okay, so this is going to sound like a total pickup line. May I?” He pointed to the chair opposite me.

  “Sure.” I smiled, my face warming again. Focus, Alena, I told myself. With so many emotions bombarding me, I was reacting, not a comfortable position for an animal of my type. I tucked my hair behind my ears, slid my hands under my legs, and looked back to him as he set his backpack on the table between us.

  “I swear this is not some attempt to get you to go out with me. Not that you aren’t pretty. You really are. God.” He rubbed his hands down his pants and shook his head. “I don’t usually do this. Especially not at the library. I’m not that guy. But you look so familiar. I saw you here yesterday, and I can’t figure out where I know you from.”

  His hushed voice resonated in a deep tone through my ears. Its pitch had dropped an octave in the fourteen years since I’d heard it. I smiled, remembering that he’d always wiped his hands on his pants when he got nervous. “I recognized you yesterday too. Okay, I’m not sure what else to say, so I’m going to be honest. I had these imaginary friends when I was little. One was named Chase—”

  “And Ivy. You’re Violet? How is that possible?”

  “I’m not sure. I thought you looked like Chase yesterday so that’s why I came back.”

  “I’m Hunter.” He extended his palm over the table to me. Wishing I’d had my hand on something cooler, I slipped it in his, squeezed briefly before pulling it back.

  “A hunter?”

  “A bit manlier than Chase. You still have warm skin.”

  “You remember that?”

  “Bits and pieces. So, what’s your real name?”

  “Alena.” I bit my lip, still unsure of what else to say.

  “So, you live near here?”

  “Yeah, we moved back a couple months ago. You?”

  “I live a few blocks north.”

  I sensed a body approach, and a librarian stepped up to our table. “Kids you should go outside if you want to talk.”

  “Sorry,” we whispered in unison.

  “Do you want to go to a coffee shop or something?” he asked.

  “Sure.” I stowed my books in my pack.

  Outside, I followed him to the café, telling him about my Mother and our moves. When we sat at a table with our drinks, he cut his eyes around the restaurant and back to me. Leaning in, he whispered. “So, do we have some sort of psychic connection or something? What do you think happened to Ivy?”

  My eyes dropped to my lap and back to his. “I think she got sick.”

  “Do you think she died?”

  “I don’t know,” I said even though I’d always believed she had.

  “It felt like she did.”

  “I feel it too. Like a knot in my stomach when I think about her.”

  “Do you think about her often? I hadn’t thought about you since kindergarten. Mom said I cried for weeks.”

  “I’m really sorry.” I reached out, wanting to touch him. I felt that way with few people, Mother, Orm, Elizabeth, Kaylie, and perhaps Sophie.

  “Hey, you were four. It’s not your fault. That’s sorta life.”

  My face warmed. “With relocating so often, I don’t get a chance to make many close friends. I’ve been having these dreams about the three of us since we moved back to LA.”

  “Weird.” He looked at the table.

  “So, what about you? Your family? I noticed your shirt yesterday. You go to Santa Monica High?” I took a sip of tea.

  “Yeah. It’s just me and my mom too. She’s not with my dad. He travels a lot, so I don’t see him much.” He scanned the room again. “So I’m kind of freaked out about finding out my imaginary friend is real. Does this happen to you? Do you see other people?”

  “No.” I bit my lip, wondering when or if I would tell him about witches or vampires. That would be breaking some major rules, but it was the only explanation. He had to be a witch, and we had to be connected somehow.

  He leaned towards me “Why are you so warm?”

  “Physiological condition.”

  “Sorry, was that too pushy?”

  “No, I have a lot of conditions, so I’m used to it.”

  “Like what else?” He looked at me over his coffee, taking a gulp. I watched as his Adam’s apple moved up and down in response.

  “I eat natural foods, nothing processed.”

  “Like allergies?”

  “Yeah, sort of.”

  “What about your family?”

  I told him about my absent father, my lack of family, gymnastics, cheerleading, and my strict Mother. Then, he summarized his life. He still lived in the same home and had the same friends he’d grown up with. He played forward on his basketball team.

  Holding my finger up, I interrupted him. “Small or power forward?”

  “Power. Wow! You really know basketball.”

  “I pay attention. Sorry, continue.”

  “I have a half brother, but I only see him when my dad’s in town.”

  Half brother? Dad? My mind ticked through the possibilities. Still, I started with his mother. “What is your mom like?”

  “You mean is she the crazy psychic or fortune teller I inherited this from?”

  “No.” I grazed my fingers across his bicep. “Well, maybe.” I bit my lip.

  “She’s a nurse. Normal as they come. Yours?”

  “She the president of this holdings company?”

  “Like investments?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  “So, not a psychic gypsy?”

  “Gypsy maybe, not psychic. How about your dad?” I sipped my tea again, trying to appear nonchalant. My brain itched for information. Anything that would confirm he was half witch. “He acts all nice and sweet, but there’s something off. My brother is that way too. Okay”—he pushed his seat away from the table—“I can’t believe I told a total stranger that.”

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have come back to the library. I feel like I’ve known you forever though.”

  “No, you’re right. I’d like to know how this is possible.”

  “Me too. Where do we start?”

  “Psychology, psychics, clairvoyants, spirituality, God … I don’t know. Maybe we both conjured each other up, and it’s a huge coincidence.”

  I bit my lip. “What about Ivy? We knew each other’s names and hers.”

  “I’m not a believer in paranormal stuff.”

  Surprise, I thought, fighting an eye roll. No sane human really believed in witches or vampires.

  “I think we should start with psychology. Let’s go back to the library and do some research. Do you have time?” He stood and swept his bag onto his back.

  Checking my phone, I saw it read a few minutes after three. “Sure, the library is open till five.” I gathered my teacup and bag.

  On the walk, we talked school and friends. When we were almost at the stairs, he stopped and faced me. “Think of a color.”

  “What?”

  “Think of a color. Not purple.”

  “Okay.” Onyx, I thought.

  “Blue?” He asked.

  “No.”

  He picked up my hands, squeezing them tight. I tried not to react. Vampires didn’t like being tethered, but I took a deep breath and let him hold my fingers. “Think of an animal. Really focus.”

  I closed my eyes and brought a picture of a jaguar to mind.

  “Cat?”

  “What color?” I questioned.

  “Tan with stripes.”

  “I was thinking black jaguar.”

  “Clo
se.”

  “Let me try. Think of your favorite food,” I told him, sliding my hands from his grip and wrapping my fingers around his forearms.

  “Okay.” He closed his electric blue eyes, took a couple slow breaths, and his pulse rate dropped.

  “Pizza?” I asked.

  “No, steak.”

  “Yeah, that’s not working.” I dropped his arms and turned to face the entrance. “How do you like your steak?”

  “Medium well. We could be in some, like, psychological research project. What about like those twins separated at birth that find each other? What if we have the same dad? What if Ivy was our sister too?”

  “That would be kinda strange. We both have light skin and blue eyes, though. Ivy had light skin and green eyes.”

  “How do you remember that? When is your birthday?”

  I ignored the first question. “June twenty-first. We have the same birthday.” Remembering our first meeting, I pulled the fact from my brain.

  He stopped halfway up the stairs and turned back to face me. “How do you know that?”

  “It’s the first time I saw you, on our third birthday.” I’d discounted that we had the same birthdate, but since he was real, perhaps it held significance.

  “You’re kidding, how do you remember that?”

  “Photographic memory.” I tapped my temple.

  “Since three? Well, okay, that’s something. What year?”

  “Nineteen ninety-nine.”

  “I was born in 1999 too! Freaky! What hospital?” he asked.

  “St. Johns.” I pulled the lie from my brain like it was the truth. In reality, Elizabeth had served as Mother’s midwife and Orm compelled a doctor to issue a birth certificate.

  “UCLA Medical Center. That’s where my mom works. But we have summer-solstice-of-1999 and imaginary friends to go on.” He took the rest of the steps two at a time. “You were reading before. Do you have schoolwork to finish? Because I came to get some books for this project I’m doing. I should get those first.” He held the door open so I could walk through the entrance.

  “No, I was stalking you. Sounds bad. You get your books, and I’ll look up the others.”