Maybe she was giving more voice to the rebellious teenager locked inside her than usual, but she was determined to go to this dance like a normal girl, regardless of the cost. “Meet me at Emma’s. We’ll get dressed there like we planned. We’ll just leave Tate out of it this time.”
***
Zelene was in a pretty bright mood as school let out, but it darkened significantly as she spotted Varrick. She was happy to see him, of course. They were going camping this weekend, and she planned on talking him into letting her move in. She’d even taken pictures of her black eye as a sort of visual aid to the presentation she had planned.
But Varrick wasn’t alone. He was standing with Kyle, which really pissed her off. Despite everything he had put her through, Varrick still insisted on being nice to her ex. Every time she called him on it, he would simply say, “What? He didn’t dump me.” Because pointing out that she got dumped always made her feel better. Really.
She decided not to let Kyle’s presence ruin her good mood, and approached the pair with a pep in her step. She wrapped her arms around Varrick’s overly-large biceps and watched them continue their conversation with a smile on her face.
“What happened to your hand?” Varrick nodded to Kyle’s battered knuckles.
“Punched a wall,” Kyle answered as he flexed the hand in question.
“What’d the wall do to you?”
“It got in my way, okay?” Kyle snapped. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to launch himself away from her as fast as possible. “Anything else?”
“Just making conversation.” Varrick turned to Zelene. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”
“Are you kidding me?” Zelene laughed incredulously. “What you did to Nora, that’s what. She has a shiner to match mine, and she’s so scared, she won’t even look at me now. But she did make me breakfast. She might be a bitch, but she makes a mean pancake.”
Varrick nodded, rubbing his chin in exaggerated thought. “Someone laid into Nora, huh?”
Zelene looked back and forth between Varrick and Kyle, who was shifting uncomfortably. “What do you mean? It wasn’t you?”
Varrick looked pointedly at Kyle. “You should get that hand looked at. You can break bones on something as hard as a wall. Especially if it really deserves it.”
No way. There was no way Varrick was implying Kyle had taken revenge on Nora for her sake. “Stop trying to play off your super hero status, Varrick. And stop trying to earn Kyle points he doesn’t deserve.”
“Whatever,” Kyle looked up at Varrick, that same odd and heavy look in his eyes she could never understand. “Can I go?”
Varrick wasn’t paying any attention as he read a text message on his phone. “Shit. Don’t move. Either of you.”
“Man!” Kyle threw his hands up in the air and paced away from Zelene.
She was still watching him contemplatively. Why would he go after Nora? It made no sense. Then again, nothing about Kyle made sense lately. “Why don’t you just leave? What do you care what Varrick thinks?”
Kyle’s eyes looked like they might pop out of his head. “What do I care what Varrick thinks? Are you kidding me? You know better than anyone that he was pretty much the only father figure I had growing up.”
“No, he was the only father figure I had. And he still is. So back off.”
“What? You get custody of him in the breakup and fail to tell me?”
Zelene took a step closer. “Thanks to you turning into such a jerk, he’s the only person I have left.”
“That’s my fault?”
“Yes, it’s your fault,” she shouted. “You made everyone think I was a slut, Kyle. The girls in this school either hate me or want to help me find Jesus, and the guys are just out to get an easy lay. Which, according to you, I am.”
“Oh, please. You didn’t have any friends before all that happened. You keep everyone at an arm’s distance, Zee. You always have.”
His words cut her, and she could feel the angry tears forming. No one could make her cry like Kyle Logan. “No, before all this happened, I thought I had one friend.”
“Yeah, and even with me you had walls. Maybe it’s time you stop and think about what that says about you.” He groaned and ran his hands over his face. “Look, can we not do this?”
Before she could answer, Varrick walked back over to them, a grim look on his face behind the sunglasses he always wore. Her mind ran over the possible reasons for his demeanor, but she couldn’t think of any. Varrick never mentioned family, and she had none left to speak of.
Varrick didn’t address her at all. He turned straight to Kyle, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I trust you, so I know you’ll do what I say without question. Right?”
Kyle nodded. “Anything you need, man. What’s going on?”
Varrick turned to Zelene and said the words she already knew were coming. “Something’s come up. Something very important.”
“No camping this weekend. Got it. What happened? Did someone die?” The way he winced at her question only furthered her concern. “Anyone I know?”
“No one’s dead.”
She wasn’t convinced. And she was pretty sure he mumbled the word ‘yet’, which was definitely not reassuring in the slightest. “Then what’s up? Why the long face?”
He didn’t answer her question as he turned back to Kyle. “I need you to take her some place safe. There’s a duffle bag hidden in the back of her closet with all the supplies you’ll need.”
“There’s what in my closet? Varrick, what’s going on?” She didn’t like the idea that he had felt the need to pack her an emergency escape kit and tuck it away in her closet. Her eyes widened as she realized what must be going on. “Did you kill Nora? Oh, Varrick…”
“No, I didn’t kill Nora,” he said with some impatience, and a hint of longing. “Both of you stop asking so many damned questions and just go get in the car. Kyle, you get her bag, and then you take her far away from here.”
“What? To where?” Kyle stepped closer. “Look, man, you know I want to help you, but am I really the best choice here?”
Varrick shifted so his back was turned to Zelene, and lowered his sunglasses. “Yes, because you know I’ll kill you if anything happens to her.”
Zelene stifled a laugh as Kyle looked so scared she thought he might pee himself. Whatever he had seen in Varrick’s eyes had convinced him. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat and he turned his pale face to Zelene.
“Right, let’s go.”
“Like hell,” she muttered. “I can take care of myself, Varrick. If we’re skipping town, just tell me where to meet you.”
“Out of the question,” Varrick was growing more agitated by the minute. “If I have to bind and gag you myself, you will get in that car and you will do what I say. Got it?”
She heaved in an angry breath. “Fine. But he better not say a word to me.”
“Good.” Varrick turned back to Kyle. “You take her to a hotel, and you wait for me there. Got it? Do not answer the door for anyone, and do not step outside that room until I come for you.”
“And if the cops show up?” Kyle asked. “What? If you killed Nora, they’re gonna be looking for us. Which, by the way, way to make me the prime suspect,” he gestured to his hand in frustration.
Varrick’s jaw was so tight it looked like it might pop. “For the last time, I did not kill Nora or anyone else. But the day is young if you two don’t do what I say.”
Kyle held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. We’re going.”
Zelene pointed a finger at Varrick. “You owe me for this,” she said as she marched after Kyle to his car. She glanced behind her, smiling as she watched Varrick jump into his car and speed away. As soon as he was out of sight, she veered off toward her car—her foster parents decided they didn’t want a truancy officer sniffing around and agreed to let her borrow it again—and flipped Kyle the bird when he finally turned around to say something t
o her.
CHAPTER SIX
Rhaya scanned the bottom level of the coffee shop until her gaze rested on her distraught-looking friend. Isauria’s long hair was pulled into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck with wisps falling into her face. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her freckled cheeks stained from her tears. Rhaya guessed that Isauria’s outfit had come from the bottom of a clothes hamper, the t-shirt wrinkled and dingy, and seeming to match her mood.
"You look like hell," Rhaya offered in way of greeting.
"Thanks. You sure don't."
Rhaya had decided to wear a red and white flowing sundress with yellow flowers and strappy red sandals with heels to match that morning. She had her raven hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, a white headband framing the bangs that curtained her round face.
"Sorry," Rhaya said as she took a seat across from her. "I tend to go a little crazy with fashion at times. Are you okay?" Genuine concern darkened her countenance as she took in the bloodshot eyes and the disheveled appearance of her companion.
Isauria shook her head slowly, her chin starting to wrinkle as she answered. "I think I might be going crazy. I'm sorry to dump all this on you, but...honestly, I don't have a lot of friends."
"Don’t sweat it," Rhaya said and placed her hand on top of Isauria's. "I don't either. Which sucks when you have something you need to talk about. Why do you think you're crazy?"
Isauria tried to blink away tears as she stared at the ceiling. "You're probably going to think I'm crazy too." She lowered her eyes back to Rhaya and everything started to spill out. "I have these dreams. I've always had them, and they're always about the same people."
"Are these people you know?" Rhaya asked, resting her chin against her hand.
"No," Isauria replied as she stared at the table. "They aren't people I’ve even met, and their world isn’t even anything like ours. I get the ideas for my story from what I dream." She risked a glance to her companion, who remained unmoved. "They're vivid, like I'm watching the movie of someone else's life. Sometimes I see mundane stuff, but other times it's emotional. Most of the time what I see is very emotional."
"But this time was different," Rhaya inferred.
Isauria gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Vastly. This woman...she died."
"Oh no," Rhaya exclaimed as she leaned forward. "Terrena didn’t die, did she?"
Isauria looked momentarily flattered that her friend had read her story, before shaking her head as if to get back on point. "No, not Terrena. Someone murdered Nandalia. She's the twins' mother." Her face turned serious as she recounted the dream to Rhaya. "There’s this other woman. Kellen. I’ve never seen her in my dreams before and I am very glad of that after what I saw,” she paused as a visible shiver went up her spine. “She’s pure evil, Rhaya. I’ve never been so terrified…She tortured Nandalia. I only remember flashes of that part, but when she killed her?” She coughed as tears began to form in her fearful eyes. “I remember that. All of it. And there’s more,” she said, staring at her cup.
Rhaya could sense her hesitation and gave her a reassuring pat on her hand. “You can tell me.”
“She…Nandalia…she, um, spoke to me. Directly.” Isauria paused to gnaw at the corner of her lip. “She called me by name. I mean, I dreamt she said my name, I guess,” she amended uncertainly. "I’m not sure. She felt so real, you know? Now I can’t stop crying. I told you I’m crazy," she concluded as her head drooped between her shoulders in defeat.
"You aren't crazy," Rhaya said with a matter-of-fact tone. "You watched her die horribly, whether it was just a dream or not. You still watched someone murder her. That's bound to affect you. And just because she's a character doesn't mean you can’t be upset. Most authors talk about how sad they felt when they killed off a character."
Isauria’s face brightened with relief. "Really? I keep seeing her as I remember her from my other dreams, and then seeing her screaming and writhing in pain and…." she trailed off. "Have you ever had a dream like that?"
"No," Rhaya said, dragging out the word and struggling to find a way to comfort her friend. "I don't dream much, though, so I might not be the best yardstick to measure what's normal for a dream and what isn't." She paused, tilting her head in thought. "Then again, I might not be the best judge of crazy either since even my own father says I'm weird."
Isauria sniffled with a laugh. "Thank you. For letting me get all this off my chest, I mean. And making me laugh."
"Laughter is good," Rhaya agreed as she eased back in her chair. "So what's your coffee of choice here?"
"Hot chocolate," Isauria replied sheepishly as she took a sip. "I'm not a big coffee drinker."
"But you said in your text message you come here all the time. To a coffee shop. Where you don't drink coffee."
Isauria dropped her eyes to her cup. "I like the atmosphere. I can people watch and work on my writing without being bothered. This place is quiet, but not too quiet like the library can be."
Rhaya snorted in disbelief. "Which library are you going to? Cause whenever I go, people can't seem to shut up."
"I usually go either early in the morning or late at night. There's not a lot of people around then. Unless it's finals week," Isauria amended.
"Yup, then good luck getting a seat." Rhaya smoothed out the skirt of her dress, feeling the conversation drifting into an awkward silence. "So, I really like your story. I put the file you sent me on my Nook, and I haven't been able to put it down."
Isauria's tear-stained face lit up into her first genuine smile of the evening. "You do?"
Rhaya pulled her e-reader from her purse, turning the device on and proudly showing Isauria. "Yup. I skipped class yesterday to keep reading. I planned on doing the same thing today so I could finish, but my Dad busted me."
“I’m avoiding my Dad for the same reason,” Isauria admitted. “I haven’t been to class all week. I’ve been writing.”
“Well, seeing as how you have me hooked I think I might encourage that habit so I can read more.” Rhaya nodded to the stairs. "So, I'm gonna go get a coffee. You want anything?"
“No thanks,” Isauria said as she toyed with the hem of her t-shirt. "I've still got plenty of cocoa. But you go ahead. I'll save our seats."
Rhaya bobbed her head in affirmation as she slid from her chair and went up the stairs to the coffee bar. She wished she could help Isauria, but wasn't sure what she could tell her that would comfort her. Especially when all she wanted to do was figure out the mystery the two of them were linked to. But Rhaya knew the time for questions and mysteries would come later. For now, her friend needed her. Isauria had this incredible sorrow enveloping her, so heavy Rhaya swore she could touch it. Rhaya had to help Isauria before attempting to get answers.
Her thoughts were interrupted as her attention snapped to a presence nearby. There was a man sitting at a table staring at her. He shifted his attention away when she noticed him, but he wasn't fast enough. He was watching her. And she got the same feeling from him as she did from the man outside her classroom a couple weeks ago.
"Can I help you?" the clerk at the register asked.
Rhaya turned back to the clerk, but glanced back to the menacing man pretending to read a newspaper. "No," she finally said. "I think I changed my mind."
Rhaya shifted her body in such a way as to not turn her back on the man as she returned down the stairs, all the while trying her best not to make it obvious she was aware of his silent intent. She couldn't explain the churning in her gut, but this man had her more than creeped out. Add the dangerous aura he gave off to the ominous warnings she had received from Tate and her father, and she found she was flat out terrified. Once she was out of sight, she picked up her pace and rushed over to Isauria.
"We have to go," Rhaya blurted out, eyeing the top of the stairs. The man leaned against the wall as if waiting in line, but Rhaya knew better. He was watching them, waiting to make his move.
"Oh, you don't have to hang out if you don't w
ant to. I understand," Isauria said meekly.
Rhaya placed her palms on the table and leaned over her companion, speaking in hushed tones but with urgency. "No, we have to go, Izzy. There's a man upstairs, and he…." she trailed off, unsure how to explain how she knew he meant to hurt them without offering any evidence. "Just trust me. We have to get out of here and get to my Dad as soon as possible."
As if on cue, Raemann came bursting through the door, scanning the few people downstairs until he found Rhaya and Isauria. He looked relieved, but then tensed and whipped around, his attention on the man at the top of the stairs. Rhaya tried not to gawk as she noticed Raemann's normally blue eyes were now fully black, as if a drop of ink fall into each of them. Rhaya pulled Isauria, who stared as well, to her feet and behind Raemann.
"Where is Liam?" he asked Isauria.
Isauria's jaw dropped. "How do you know my Dad?"
"Never mind that," Raemann said with annoyance. "Are you scared?" He paused as Isauria nodded. "Good. Then he should be nearby. Now we are going to slowly make our way out the door. He will follow us, so once we are clear of the crowds we must hurry. Do you both understand?"
Isauria started to protest, but Rhaya placed her hand on her arm to stop her, causing her to turn around. "What's—"
"Just trust me." Rhaya eyes widened to convey the importance of her request. “Please.”
Perhaps Isauria was in the shock from the turn of events, but she followed without any more protests. Rhaya reached out and grabbed her hand, linking their fingers together and giving them a reassuring squeeze. Once Raemann had led them outside, he grabbed Rhaya's arm and started to drag them off, muttering under his breath and using his other hand to dial numbers from his cell phone. He kept looking over his shoulder, which the girls did as well, but so far there was no sign of the man from the coffee shop following the unusual train of people moving along the sidewalk.
"Dad?" Rhaya finally asked. "What's going on?"
"Call Liam," he ordered Isauria, who did so without complaint. "You felt the same thing from that man as you did the other, didn't you?" Rhaya nodded, but he didn't see her and didn't seem to need an answer. "They're making their move. We were too careless."
Heirs of War Page 7