Destiny, YA Paranormal Romance (Brightest Kind of Darkness Series, Book #3)

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Destiny, YA Paranormal Romance (Brightest Kind of Darkness Series, Book #3) Page 34

by Michelle, P. T.


  Scooting my chair away from Drystan’s, I click the mouse to open a new browser window. “I just had this research project on my mind.” I cut a meaningful gaze his way, then shift my focus back to the computer screen. “And I really need to get back to it if you don’t mind.”

  His hand lands on mine over the mouse. “But I do mind.” Squeezing my fingers, he dips his head, his hazel green gaze seeking mine. “Talk to me, Nara. Tell me what I’ve done wrong.”

  I yank my hand from under his. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?”

  “It’s my lunch period.” He leans back in his seat and crosses his ankles in a casual pose. “I’ll sit here the whole hour if I have to.”

  “Whatever.” I start to get up, but Drystan bolts upright in his seat and grips my wrist.

  “How can I defend myself when I don’t know what I’ve done?” When my gaze meets Drystan’s, his fingers loosen on my wrist. “I’m sorry for whatever I did. Now tell me what that was, so I can fix it.”

  Sincerity shines in his eyes. I sit down, my shoulders stiff. “Why didn’t you tell me about your uncle?”

  “My uncle?”

  “Yes, your uncle, Mr. Wicklow.”

  Realization dawns. “Oh, you mean that he lives down the street from you?” Drystan releases me and shrugs. “I had no idea where he lived until we drove up to his house last night. I even mentioned when we turned into your neighborhood that a friend lives on his same street.” He tilts his head. “You know my uncle? When did you meet him? I wonder why he didn’t mention that he’d met you?”

  I ignore his questions and ask my own.

  “Are you saying that every time you’ve met your uncle it has been somewhere else until last night?”

  Drystan nods. “Yeah, it’s usually at the university. One was a faculty/family event, another was a charity thing he helped host. Last night was a dinner.”

  I spin my hand in a circle. “Any meetings with other groups?”

  He lifts his eyebrows and shrugs. “Nope. That’s it.”

  I lean closer, my spine rigid. “Your uncle’s not part of a special group? Did he ask you to join?”

  “What kind of group? Like a faculty thing?” He shakes his head, his eyebrows pulling together. “All my uncle talks about when we’re together is how excited he is that I’m coming to live in England when the semester is over.”

  Drystan has no idea what I’m talking about. He really doesn’t know about the Order. Now that I think about it, he didn’t look twice at Ethan’s sword tattoo when he saw it—well beyond normal curiosity—but certainly not like he would have if he knew about Corvus. I glance away, completely confused as to why his uncle hadn’t told him about the secret organization he leads. Drystan fits the profile of a Paladin like he was born to it. The way he’s been with me…he really must have it in his blood and he just doesn’t know it yet.

  Drystan touches my arm. “Am I missing something? What group are you talking about?”

  I shake my head and smile. “Nothing. It was just a misunderstanding. I’m sorry I was quiet this morning. We’re good, Drystan.”

  He looks at me sideways, like he doesn’t quite believe me. “How did you meet my uncle?”

  “He borrowed our leaf blower and we chatted for a bit, but he never mentioned he had a nephew living here in Blue Ridge.”

  Drystan’s eyes light up. “You saw me at his house last night, didn’t you?”

  I nod. “While I was out walking Houdini. Seeing you there made me wonder why you hadn’t mentioned it.”

  Drystan spreads his hands wide and grins. “Mystery solved.”

  Um, yeah, clear as mud. What kind of plans does Mr. Wicklow have for his nephew? Drystan only met his uncle for the first time a few weeks ago. He’d been nervous about their meeting, telling me he wanted his uncle’s interest in getting to know him to be about him and not about what he can do.

  Mr. Wicklow may not plan to involve Drystan in the Order, but if he does, I hope Drystan joins with his eyes wide open. Pasting on a smile, I say, “Remember how you earned my trust?”

  He snorts. “Yeah, worked like ’ell for it.”

  “Yours should be just as hard to earn.”

  He eyes me for a second, then grins. “Go on, say I’m worth it.”

  “My dad thanks you.” When he scowls, I smirk and pat the top of his head. “You’re definitely worth the effort.”

  Nara

  A text comes through on my phone right when I get home from helping my aunt get ready for her show.

  After I set the security alarm for the night—using Mom’s note she’d taped to the panel before going to bed early. I have a six a.m. flight. Here are the alarm instructions in case you forget—I read the message.

  Drystan: I want to talk to you about my uncle. You seem to know something. You know I have trust issues. Come get me and we can get some takeaway.

  Me: I’m not eating fast food at eleven. Anyway, I’m exhausted. Going to bed.

  Drystan: After all I’ve done for you? *pouts*

  He’s playing the guilt card? I frown.

  Me: I really am tired.

  Drystan: What do you know that you’re not telling me? It’s going to bother me all night.

  I bite my lip. Should I tell Drystan about the Order? Is it my place? What if his uncle never plans to bring him into his secret world? But then, what if he does? Will he be honest and upfront about the current status of the Corvus/Paladin relationship? Drystan deserves to know the truth before deciding to join. It seems to me that being a Paladin is a life choice and not something taken lightly.

  Me: Let’s talk tomorrow.

  Drystan: We can go to the gym and work out. It’s a by weekend for basketball, so we’ll have it to ourselves.

  Me: Okay. I’ll pick you up in the morning around nine.

  As I set my phone down, I’m still not sure what I’ll say to Drystan. Maybe I’ll just talk in generalities and not say anything specific about Corvus. I could tell him his uncle runs a group that tries to protect society. Would that be unfair to him if his uncle does plan on recruiting him? Ugh. I just don’t know what to do.

  I start to text Ethan to get his opinion, then remember he’s out with Danielle and will probably stay out until the wee hours. I hope they find Harper tonight. Knowing this demon isn’t going to stop until it gets Freddie’s book is setting me on edge.

  Nara

  Nine a.m. comes way too soon.

  After responding to a text from my mom letting me know she’s arrived at her destination, I climb in my car and yawn three times while driving to Matt’s to pick up Drystan. I’m tempted to stop by Mocha Java and get a large latte, but then I remember what happened to the last one I brought to a workout with Drystan.

  Grimacing at the memory, I pull into the driveway. I don’t even have a chance to get out of my car before Drystan comes bounding out of Matt’s house.

  Wearing fitted black athletic pants and a matching jacket with a red stripe across his chest, he’s smiling and wide-eyed. I want to growl at the pep in his step as he quickly slides into my passenger seat with the grace of a gazelle.

  My movements resemble an elephant’s, lumbering and slow. I really need to wake up or he’s going to smear me all over that gym.

  As soon as I drive off, he turns on my radio, flips to a rock station and blares it full blast.

  I wince and turn it off. “If I can’t have a latte before workouts, then you can’t blast music like that in my ear before caffeine has a chance to wake me up.”

  Drystan glares at me for a second, then laughs. “You’re so not a morning person.”

  “And you’re scowling at me one second and amused the next. What’s wrong with you?”

  “I didn’t sleep well.” He slants an annoyed gaze in my direction. “Told you it would bother me all night.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Drystan grins and rubs his hands together. “That you are. Let’s get some training and t
alking done.”

  The gym lights aren’t even on when we get there. While Drystan goes to find the main switch, I stand inside the freezing gym, glad that I wore a sweat jacket that covers at least part of my butt. My yoga pants might be perfect for ease of movement, but not so great for warmth.

  Finally the lights pop on, their buzzing adding a warming comfort to the cold space. Most of Drystan’s parkour equipment is up, but a couple extra mats and one wall have been removed to accommodate the fully extended bleachers.

  Drystan runs back in the room and instantly steps onto a mat, his hands up in ready stance. He’s taken off his jacket and a leather necklace with a small vial full of something gray hangs around his neck. “Better remove your jewelry, Dryst,” I mock and quickly move into position in front of him. If he wants to workout first, then talk about his uncle later, I’m fine with the delay. I’m still undecided as to what I’ll say to him.

  “I don’t plan to hang myself.” He smirks, then swipes at me with a face tap. “Wake up, Buttercup,” he says, bouncing on his toes.

  His fingers smacking my cheek are so unexpected, my head snaps sideways. I turn a narrowed gaze back to him and lift my fists to block. “That wasn’t necessary. I’m awake enough.”

  “Tell me what I want to know.” He moves quickly, the flat of his palm blowing past my arms as if they aren’t even there. I stumble back and gasp at the pain exploding across my chest.

  Drystan has never hit me like this. I’m so stunned, I shake my head and grit my teeth. He’s really giving me a hard time for making him wait. I swing my leg, my foot hitting his thigh. When he grunts, I say, “Ask your uncle why he’s so interested in having you with him in England.”

  “He hasn’t told me shite. You know exactly what he’s holding back, don’t you?” His hazel green eyes darken as he pivots, then swings back, arcing his foot. He’s so fast, he catches the back of my knee before I can twist away. When my knee buckles and I fall to the mat, he grunts his annoyance. “Quit delaying. What’s the deal with my uncle? And how do you know?”

  I’m pissed that he’s being so rough and taking his frustration out on me. I jump up and glare at him, rubbing the back of my leg. “This has nothing to do with me. You know what, I’m done helping you avoid asking your uncle tough questions. If you don’t trust his motives, then ask him yourself, Drystan. Follow your own instincts. Mine have never steered me wrong.”

  His face reddens and before I can move, he takes two fast steps toward me. Getting right in my face, he lets out a low laugh. “And what are your instincts telling you right now?”

  He looks half-angry and half-amused. My stomach tenses, my instincts battling with my heart. I start to take a step back and he smiles, then moves with lightning speed, shoving my shoulders hard.

  As I stumble backward, Drystan looks down and shakes his head. Fear shooting through me, I try to regain my footing, but my heel catches on a place where two mats meet. Just as I start to fall Drystan jerks his gaze back to me, his expression tense with anxiety. “Run, Nara!”

  Drystan laughs suddenly, his voice switching to a maniacal one that sends trickles of icy fear down my spine. “Yes, Nara. Run! It’s more fun this way.” He leaps the distance across the mat between us, the look on his face quickly shifting to gleeful excitement.

  Fear knocks my heart against my chest, but I manage to roll and get to my feet before he lands, barely avoiding his grasping hand. Oh God, a demon has Drystan! He must’ve fought like hell past the demon’s possession to warn me.

  Screaming, I run around one of the parkour walls, trying to put a barricade between us, since he’s blocking my way to the gym doors. As I squat down, thoughts race through my head. Can I make it to the door before he reaches me? Is he going to torture me first or kill me the second he gets his hands on me? Where are you, Ethan? You have to have seen this last night.

  “Oh, Nara,” the demon says in a sing-song voice. “Come out and play. There’s so much I need you to tell me. Like…”

  The wall I’m hiding behind suddenly vaults across the room, flying into the bleachers like a paper airplane before sliding onto the floor below.

  Drystan looms over me, his head tilted to the side. “Why is the uncle so important to you? What’s so special about that man? And where is that damned raven book? I’m tired of asking.”

  Even worse, it’s Harper’s demon. I jump up to run, but he grabs my hood and yanks me back against him. “But, we’ll get to those questions later.” His voice drops as he quickly unzips my jacket. “This boy wants you so bad, little Nara. I might as well enjoy what he was too weak to take.”

  I struggle against him, trying to pull away. My shirt rips right before his hand clamps brutally hard on my breast. Terror ramps in my belly and I stomp on his toe, then elbow him hard in the gut. He chuckles in my ear and gouges his thumb roughly along the curve of my breast above my bra, while his other hand slides down my stomach. “That tickles. Come on get rougher with me. Makes things interesting.”

  I scream and claw at his hands. But nothing I do can pull them away. Just as his fingers start to brush past the elastic waistband of my pants, a female voice shouts, “What the hell are you doing?”

  Danielle. I gulp back my terrified disgust as I realize his arms aren’t locked around me. If I move fast enough while he’s glancing back at her…

  Twisting sideways out of his grip, I quickly pull my arms free of the jacket’s sleeves and take off running for the gym door. Danielle’s standing inside the door, two swords in her hands and a fierce look stamped on her face. Her swords are half the length of Ethan’s, but with two, I’m sure just as effective at dispatching demons. I skid to a stop in front of her as Drystan walks toward us. His eyes glitter with excitement, like he’s looking forward to battling her.

  Tears streaming, I sob, “Harper’s demon is in Drystan.”

  Tension edges through me as Drystan moves closer. Danielle’s glaring at him, so I step behind her to give her room to fight.

  Drystan stops a few feet away, then grins and raises his hands. “What? Can’t I have a little fun?”

  “I don’t have time for your bullshit games,” Danielle says in a cold voice as she turns and grips my arm, yanking me between them. “You’re here for one reason.” Flipping her sword around in her hand with a swift, expert movement, she holds the handle out to him. “Finish her now.”

  Ethan

  I jerk awake with a tight feeling in my chest.

  Nara.

  Something is wrong. A hard tapping on my bedroom window, followed by other things hitting the glass, pull me out of my bed. I yank the curtain back and the raven Nara calls Patch is standing on the ledge hammering his beak on my window like a wood pecker, while a hoard of ravens fly and crash into my window too.

  Patch’s frantic tapping only amps my own worry. I sense his anxiety. “You know something’s wrong too, don’t you?” I quickly drag on my jeans and a T-shirt, and then grab my phone and keys.

  Nara doesn’t pick up as I call her cell for the fifth time. As I pull into her driveway, I hear the radio announcer’s voice for the first time. It’s a news bit they run every morning. Except this time the name catches my attention.

  A teen girl has been recovered from a river not far from downtown Blue Ridge. She’s been identified as Harper Dabney. A student at Blue Ridge High. Foul play has not been ruled out. The investigation is ongoing.

  I grab my phone and dial Danielle’s number as I run to Nara’s door and ring the bell.

  I wait a full minute, but all I hear is Houdini barking by the front door, then whining when I call through the door and tell him to settle.

  I glance at my phone, surprised Danielle didn’t pick up. She always does when I call, because I rarely do. Danielle had been acting kind of weird the last couple of nights we went looking for Harper. She seemed edgy, yet oddly excited. Did she find Harper without me? What happened?

  I stand on Nara’s porch, tension ebbing through me. I have no
clue how to find her. As I turn, my gaze locks on the houses down the street, and the conversation Nara had with Drystan yesterday in the library hits me. I didn’t see her whole day yesterday in my dream. I only saw up to the point that she got home from her aunt’s house. Why didn’t I see it?

  Setting my jaw, I turn toward my car and Patch is standing on the roof staring at me. As I approach my car, he bobs his head and doesn’t take flight until I open my door.

  I head straight down the street to Drystan’s uncle’s house.

  I ring the bell and wait impatiently for the man to answer.

  An older man with gray hair and a goatee opens the door, a curious expression on his face. “Can I help you?”

  A renewed layer of anger rockets through me. I grab him by his stodgy cardigan and set him against the doorjamb. “Where’s Drystan?”

  He starts to shake his head, but I just tighten my hold. “I know who you are. I know about the Order. Don’t try to bullshit me. I don’t have the patience for it. Something’s happened to Nara, and my gut tells me he’s somehow involved.”

  “It’s hard to speak with a doorjamb digging in my back,” he rasps.

  I release him, but I don’t step back. “Talk.”

  Straightening his sweater, he eyes me. “You’re the Corvus. Nara’s friend. I’m Mr. Wicklow.”

  “I’m not here for introductions,” I say, staring him down.

  He clears his throat. “I really hope you’re wrong and Nara’s not in trouble. She’s a truly amazing girl. With her passion for Corvus, she doesn’t need a special gift to qualify. She’d be a valuable asset to the Order as a Paladin.”

  “She’ll never be anyone’s Paladin,” I say on a near growl. “Tell me where to find Drystan.”

  The old man sighs. “Maybe you should consider the Corvus you’ve been training with. I suspect she would definitely see Nara as a threat.”

 

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