Shattered Secrets

by Krystal Wade

  “Derick? Megan?” I called, alarmed by the amount of panic in my voice. Derick and Megan were the closest things to home, normalcy, to family that I had left. “Where are you?”

  A moan came from somewhere near my feet. I dropped to my knees and called Derick’s name again, straining to hear his voice, crawling my way along the carpeted floor.

  “Abigail…”

  I crawled faster, sending my hands searching all over the place, hoping he wasn’t bleeding or broken or worse… dying. I’m going to kill Mark.

  Someone grabbed my left forearm and pulled me down, hard. “Don’t move,” Derick said into my ear, “Don’t move until I say so.”

  Fear prickled through me. “What’s—?”

  “Run. Now.”

  He jumped to his feet, pulling me behind, and we found the stairwell and climbed the stairs two at a time. Pale moonlight penetrated through the thin glass windows and cast a chilling glow on the room that had roared with energy earlier, during our discussions of the future. Derick didn’t pause to take a breath, but I did, and the room smelled of smoke and burned plastic.

  “What’s that—?”

  “Keep moving.” He hurtled us through the broken glass door of the yacht and onto the deck where his parents, Will, and Megan waited.

  Maniacal laughter sounded from somewhere deep inside the ship, and I shuddered. “What was that?”

  Mr. Crawford looked me square in the eyes and said, “A crazed Fávlosi.”

  But Mark. “We have to help Mark.”

  Megan shuddered. “Oh, trust me, Mark’s fine.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Not now.” Mr. Crawford shook his head, helping me into the small dinghy floating on the gently rolling ocean. “You said you wanted to open the planes. Now we don’t have a choice. Somehow there are many more spirits left in this world than we’d originally believed, and they’re stronger than we realized.”

  “And closer to home,” Derick added, glaring at his father.

  “Aedan may be against us, but not everyone will turn from our side when we travel home. This is the only way.” Mr. Crawford took a deep breath. “Are you ready?”

  Everyone stared at me, expectant, covered in blood and tears and sweat and whatever else.

  Blood. I glanced at my hands. They were covered in red stains. I checked Derick over for injuries, but none of his cuts and scrapes would cause the amount of crimson on me. “If there’s a crazed Favlosi down there, we have to go back for Mark. We have to. I’ll do whatever, open the planes, anything, but I’m not leaving him behind, no matter how much—”

  “Mark’s not who we thought he was,” Derick said, tipping his head toward Mr. Crawford.

  He frowned, his cheeks draining of color. “We’ll explain shortly.”

  I shook off a growing sense of unease and said, “I’ll do it, but I need the book, sir.”

  “Where is it?” he asked, glancing back at Derick, who was strained and tense, rubbing his palms together, his shoulders hunched forward.

  “In her room. I’ll go—”

  “No.” I stood and threw my arms around his neck. “Not alone. You aren’t going down there alone.”

  “I’ll go,” Will said, but Megan held him back.

  “Absolutely not.” She shot him a glare that glued him to his seat. For once, she came across as strong, giving up the crying girl act she’d displayed almost constantly since the incident on the beach. “You don’t get to commit suicide just because Harvey’s gone.”

  “Gone?”

  Megan nodded. “Heart attack after impact.”

  Will sucked in a sharp breath and covered his face with his hands, choking on sobs.

  Before or after Mr. Snellings convinced him not to call the Coast Guard? My heart wouldn’t allow me to put that question to words because I knew Harvey meant the world to Will, and judging by his reaction when she mentioned the incident let me know he couldn’t handle any more talking.

  Derick embraced me, but only for a moment before he leaned back and ran his fingers along my forehead. The light touch sent a shock of pain through my skull. He turned his palm toward me, showing a fair amount of blood. “You can’t come, Abby. You’re hurt. You’re hurt and he might attack you, and I’m not about to watch… I’ll never let that happen to you.”

  I cringed at my own weakness and allowed him to help me take a seat.

  “I love you,” he whispered before standing tall and looking at his father. “What do I need to know?”

  Mr. Crawford handed his son a knife, a gun, and a small vial of purple liquid, leading me to believe Mark lied about the simple nature of our accident. The possessed humans did a lot more damage than just sideswipe the boat. What else did Mark lie about? Why didn’t they want to go back for him? My pulse raced as the answer became clear, even though it made no sense.

  “Take a deep breath, then throw this potion at the bottom of the steps. It will knock him out cold, but only for a few minutes,” Mr. Crawford said, “You must hurry.”

  Derick nodded and ran into the boat, the darkness swallowing him whole.

  “Did he hurt you, Abigail?” Mrs. Crawford asked, lifting my arms, moving my hair and looking at my neck, then my wrists. She grabbed gauze from a small first-aid kit near her feet, then pressed the clean cloth to my forehead.

  “Did w-who hurt me?”

  “I didn’t sense any of this, Adam. My powers are weak.” She looked up at her husband worriedly, forehead crinkled. “How could we be so careless? How could that boy be one of them?”

  That boy? Was Mark that boy? Why wouldn’t she look at me? “Mrs. Crawford?”

  “Did you see the look in her eyes when she saw his essence shift? Right in front of her, he changed. My God, Adam.”

  “Who are you talking about?” I demanded, heat flaring in my cheeks.

  Mrs. Crawford looked down at her hands, then back at the ship, past me, like she was waiting, waiting for her son, waiting for him to return safely, and she couldn’t be bothered by simple questions. But then, her shoulders sagged and she met my eyes. “Mark, dear. He’s a murderer, and he’s on their side now. And his parents certainly didn’t know that, not with the way they reacted. Mr. Snellings tried to shoot him, he did. Ran upstairs to the control room, grabbed a flare gun, and shot at his son.”

  “Unfortunately he missed and hit the couch. The smell of burning furniture was disgusting.” Megan made a sour face that bordered on maniacal, her legs bouncing up and down.

  I got to my feet and jumped back onto the wooden deck. Derick was downstairs with Mark, a Fávlosi, and we were all just sitting here waiting.

  No way would I let him fight alone.

  “Abby, don’t. He’ll be right back.” Mrs. Crawford grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. “He stabbed his mother and father without an ounce of remorse. They were too shocked to put up an honest fight. So were we. I can’t let you go down there.”

  “But you let Derick? You let him go down there with someone capable of murdering his parents, adults, people older and smarter than him?”

  “This is what we do.” She pinned me with her stare. “Fighting is in our blood, Derick’s blood.”

  Pulling away from her, I ground my teeth and marched off.

  Just as Derick emerged from the hull with History of Kalós in his grasp, a slight smile toying at the corner of his mouth.

  “That was fun. Note to self: purple potion stings the eyes and also causes hallucinations.” He hooked his arm through mine and whisked us back to the dinghy, stepping high to avoid imaginary objects. “After you, m’lady.”

  Mr. Crawford pursed his lips into a thin white line. “I told you to take a deep breath before breaking the vial.”

  Derick smirked at his father. “Did you think I could hold my breath that long?”

  Will’s yacht lurched to the left, knocking Derick into the rescue raft along with the rest of us, and Mr. Crawford wasted no time in taking off. The propellers l
eft two lines of trailing white wake in the otherwise calm ocean. I followed them back to the destroyed ship and caught sight of the boat that’d hit us, burning, a pillar of black rising into the already black night, muting the stars. A white flash caught at the edge of my vision. I glanced to Will’s ship and saw Mark pacing the deck.

  He turned his head toward us, his face distorted by rage, screamed into the night, then launched into the water.

  Goose bumps rippled across my skin.

  r. Crawford cut the motor on the dinghy, and Derick and Will jumped out and pulled it the rest of the way to shore. Once on the cool sandy beach, we kept moving, running through thick mangroves, over pockets of water in the low marsh until we broke through the last of the tropical growths and reached the Mustang.

  I bent forward, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. We were running from Mark. Mark, a kid who played with me in the dirt, who beat up bullies to defend my name, was a murderer.

  “Keep walking.” Derick patted my shoulder. “Or it’ll take longer to recover.”

  “Easy”—I wheezed, wondering whether we were far enough away—“for you to say.”

  He laughed and leaned his elbows on the hood of his car, legs crossed at his ankles, so carefree, as though we weren’t on the run.

  He’s still drugged.

  “So, what’s the plan, Dad?”

  What’s the plan to escape Mark? Could life get any crazier?

  Mr. Crawford inclined his head toward Will and Megan, who huddled together a slight distance from us, her cheek on his chest. “We go to his house.”

  At this, I stood straight. “What?”

  “It will be the last place anyone thinks to look for us, especially Will’s father. If we drive to Virginia and head to the sanctuary, we may walk straight into a trap.”

  “Assuming we even make it there,” Derick said, trailing his finger down the windshield, his face a few inches from the glass.

  “You’re right, Derick. Your car is easily recognized.” Mr. Crawford stared at him. “And who knows how long Mark fed our secrets to the spirits; he knew far too many. I’m surprised we’ve made it this far, not that any human would be able to see us here—unless they were under Fávlosi influence.”

  Megan and Will’s broken bodies flashed through my thoughts. “But that’s where we saw them dead. In the vision.”

  “How will I explain you coming into my house, anyway?” Will asked.

  Mr. Crawford disappeared.

  “Oh. That helps. Definitely.”

  “That’s enough, Adam. Everyone else, get in before we’re spotted by something not fooled by our abilities.” Derick’s mom opened the door and pointed, using her motherly authority to force us to pile into the car. I’d never again have that stern but loving direction in my life, not from my own mother. For a second, I stopped breathing. For a second, my heart fissured in yet another place.

  Will, Megan, and even a dazed-eyed Derick, ducked into the backseat, but Mrs. Crawford grabbed my wrist before I could follow, holding me gently but with a firmness that implied she wanted my attention. “I know what you saw. I know it is our duty to protect them. I know how much visions hurt, how they scare you, how they turn everything you want on its head and make you run in a completely different direction to try and avoid the outcome you’ve already seen. But I also know that never works. If you saw Megan and Will dead on that beach, then that beach is exactly where we need to go. If there is any chance for them to survive, it will be there.”

  “Are visions ever wrong?”

  She nodded. “My vision about your safety here in Florida was wrong—a first, but apparently not a last, for me—but the failure is not unheard of. My mother begged me not to marry Adam after seeing the future, swore he’d make me miserable, but I can’t imagine another man ever making me as happy as he has. Life is what we make of it, Abby, not a pre-planned journey. Our abilities are meant to help us, but they are not who we are.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, get in.”

  I slipped past her and into the cramped backseat of the Mustang, then sat on Derick’s lap. His whole body shook with energy, as if his blood vibrated, and I wondered what exactly that vial had contained. Nothing earthly.

  “Did you know every strand of your hair is a light? It’s amazing. You have this lavender glow under your skin, too. Like someone implanted fiber-optic tubes throughout your entire body and flipped a switch.” Derick picked up a chunk of my hair and whistled as he slowly let it go. “So bright.”

  Definitely not an earthly drug.

  The Crawfords exchanged a concerned glance, and Megan giggled.

  “Do you have any more of that potion, sir?” Will asked. “I think we should use it on my father.”

  “Why do you feel so compelled to help us?” Derick touched Will’s face, denting the soft skin under his dark-shadowed eye. “The colors under your skin are dark, almost navy blue, but there’s vibrancy to them yet. Something alive and incredible. It’s like your blood runs with evil, but your soul wants to be good.”

  Will didn’t move, not even to blink. “What did you guys do to him? It’s like he’s on acid or something.”

  “He may as well be,” Mr. Crawford said, backing out of the parking lot. “Alitherum reveals reality in heavy doses. The substance makes you see who you really are, deep down inside, all the layers of magic and humanity this plane has to offer peeled away. It worked on Mark because he saw the truth of what he’s become—and done—and it overwhelmed him, which is why he screamed and jumped into the water. He’s probably thinking of suicide at the moment, though, given what we know about Fávlosi, that thought won’t last long. The drug is working the same way for Derick… well, almost. He’s seeing the truth of what he, and everything around him, is—the very core of things. It’s really quite beautiful, the way we’re able to read life how a snake might seek prey, but Derick has no experience with this, nor any idea how to subdue the effects of the alitherum.”

  “I don’t want to subdue it.” His pupils were dilated so wide that no exposed color remained, none of my favorite blue or his boyish innocence. “Is this what life there will be like?”

  “No.” Mr. Crawford laughed. “This is just a serum. We try not to use it often, as producing the ingredients necessary to make more isn’t an easy task.”

  The drug and its effects meant very little to me. How could someone like Mark change from one of us into a killer? How could he stab his parents? Lie to me? Attack Derick? How could he do any of these things? He went from pushy, nice guy to psycho in the course of a week.

  “I’m going to guess that wasn’t just a scratch on his arm, Abby.” Mr. Crawford took a deep, resigned breath. “When the boys rescued you, one of the brothers must have injected Mark with their blood.”

  My thoughts are never private. “Their blood?”

  “You see, our kinds can never mix. The results can be fatal, never mind dangerous.”

  “So Mark is going to die?”

  “Doesn’t look that way. If the transfusion doesn’t immediately kill the host, their intentions will define what becomes of them.”

  “So pretty,” Derick said, lifting my hair again.

  I ignored him. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  Mr. Crawford met my eyes in the rearview. “Just because we’re meant for good does not mean our hearts desire good. We all come from humans who’ve passed on. And humans are fickle, just like that boy. He had a mean streak in him, that one, an air of confidence that made him think he was better than most. When the Fávlosi injected their blood into him, the blood could have either made him an even stronger good guy—or an incredibly strong—”

  “Murderer.”

  He nodded. “And he might flip between his two selves for quite some time, until one of them takes control.”

  Another part of my life lost. Another piece of normal turned angry, violent.

  “Adam…” Mrs. Crawford went
stone-still, her eyes fixed on something in front of the car.

  I leaned between the seats, trying to see what she did, and gasped. Blue and red lights flashed at the end of the bridge we needed to cross to return to Will’s house—lots of lights. Mr. Crawford slowed down, but we were already too close to the barricade. Officers in black uniforms, with guns at the ready, stood in a line before their vehicles, ready to stop an army.

  Somehow, we were that army.

  “Way more of them here than we thought,” Mr. Crawford said. “Look at all these humans under their influence.”

  “Which explains how they got the better of us.” Mrs. Crawford pursed her lips and looked at me, hardness etched into her concerned face. “But not this time. Not with her, Adam.”

  “Can everyone swim?” Will asked, gripping the headrest.

  “That’s not going to work, unless someone has a way to protect this book.” I held up History of Kalós, just in case they forgot and allowed us to plunge into the clear blue waters, which would surely be the end of our guide’s life.

  “The book possesses strong magical abilities. I’m sure it will be fine.” Mr. Crawford slammed on the brakes, and we stopped in the middle of the bridge.

  Strong negative magical abilities.

  We climbed out of the Mustang, ran to the guardrails, then peered over.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Megan said. “Will, kids get hurt here all the time. It’s too high!”

  Will took her hand and looked at the Crawfords. “Don’t you two have some sort of power you can use to help us land, or something?”

  “Doesn’t work that way, but we don’t have any other option.” Derick’s mother looked toward the cops, whose lights were getting closer. “When you jump, make sure you fall straight down, like a pencil. Do not hit the water sideways.” She took a deep breath. “On the count of three. One…”

  “The water is alive,” Derick said, grinning at the ocean below us.

  “Is it safe for him to swim? He’s still hallucinating.” I hooked my arm through his so he couldn’t leap off into the pretty water before she said three.