“Yes.” I pointed back to her book. “Sorry, where were you?”
She continued reading.
Ancestry and marriage determined clanship. Holden, since Dad had adopted him after marrying Holden’s mom, was trying to switch, but his biological father was making him complete four years of service to the Aos Si before he could.
In the meantime, I almost never saw him. It was like he’d joined the army. Only more dangerous. I was glad Jerrick’s brother, Cam, had gone with Holden, even though he didn’t have to.
Oops had almost finished the chapter when the front door downstairs closed.
“Ashley!” Mom called from downstairs, using Oops’s actual name. She was the only one in the family who did. “Ashley, Momma has something for you.”
“Momma’s home.” Oops moved away and wiggled off the bed, leaving me cold. “Momma! I’m up here.” She scurried out of my room.
I sat up and straightened my pillow. The case was blue with hot pink flowers—a relic of my young schoolgirl days. Something my mom Jenn had bought me before she’d even adopted me. Back then, she’d been my favorite person in the entire world. It had been a long time since her call had motivated me to run.
“Tara?”
I glanced at the door.
It was Nathaniel’s turn to make his appearance. Tonight, it was with a math book in hand. He was Daniel’s nephew, coming to live with us two years ago since his parents were both in jail. “This pre-algebra stuff is killing me, and I’ve got a test tomorrow.”
“The night before a test is never the time to start studying.” I got up from bed and grabbed a pencil from my desk.
Nathaniel scratched his cheek bashfully.“Yeah. I know.”
“So what do you need help with?” I followed him into his bedroom. Coming to stay after Holden had moved out, Nathaniel had left half the room as a shrine to Holden. His bookshelves with all his action figures and books remained, and so did his dresser. On top of it was an open case of daggers. It was the last birthday gift Dad had given Holden before dying.
I paused, running fingers down one of the sharp blades.
“What are those for?” Nathaniel asked.
Closing the lid, I looked at him with a mischievous smile. “To kill demons,” I said.
“That’s not funny,” Nathaniel said with a squeak in his voice.
Despite living in a house with two changelings, a pure alv—Mom—and a demon slayer—Daniel—Nathaniel still had no clue. He wasn’t any of those things. Daniel wasn’t an alv, but an alv had given him demon sight years ago, enabling him to see demons. Otherwise, normal humans didn’t see them. They couldn’t possess normal humans either—just alvs with source inside.
Daniel had told Oops and me to bombard Nathaniel with hints about demons, so when he finally did tell him, it didn’t take him by surprise.
Nathaniel still wasn’t ready for the truth. I sat at his desk with him and helped him work through his problems. In between, I kept studying the photographs Holden left on the wall. So many of them were of Mom, Dad, Holden and me.
Back then, life had been perfect.
A little less than an hour later, I left, leaving with him what positive source I’d had to give, far more confident about his test the next morning. I hoped he aced it.
Random or not, tutoring Nathaniel, Oops, as well as Jack at school this year had been my one saving grace. My one well for positive source.
Back in my room, I circled, looking for demons, but there were no signs of the animal-like imps or the humanoid fiends.
“What are you doing?” Mom’s voice filled my room, and I bolted to look at her.
This was a rare intrusion.
“Nothing. Going to bed.” I was near my dresser, so I pulled out a pair of cotton pajamas.
“Coach Montrose called today,” she said. “He said you had a hard time giving your speech.”
Tension made me stiff. “Yeah, I probably got a C.”
“Everything all right?”
Down below, the doorbell rang, and my stomach knotted. It was late for guests, and we didn’t have a lot of visitors. The last time someone had come late like this, things had not turned out well for me.
A low voice murmured quietly below, talking to Daniel, followed by a stream of laughter.
Whoever it was, they weren’t here with ill intent toward me.
“You know, if there was ever anything you wanted to talk about—”
“Mom, you walked out last spring. You walked out and weren’t here when I needed someone to talk to about Sam and Jerrick. There’s nothing I want to talk with you about. Please, leave me alone.”
Mom pressed her lips together, then rested a hand on her chest, clutching at the fabric. “I don’t know how to make it right with you,” she whispered.
There were steps on the stairs, and Daniel came alongside Mom. “You’re still awake.” He smiled at me.
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. Daniel was so not my dad. “I’m going to bed.”
“That was Montrose. He said if you wanted to record your presentation tonight—”
“You’re joking,” I interrupted.
Daniel looked at his wristwatch. “It’s only ten.”
I rubbed my temple. “Fine,” I snapped, tossing my pajamas down on my bed.
Thirty minutes later, having given a much better presentation, I got into bed, the lights still turned on. Sometimes it depressed me how nice Daniel was when I was so mean to him.
The phantoms of the night scared me awake and asleep. At least with the light on, I could see any demons that came after me. Maybe I should sleep with Oops again.
Mom appeared in my doorway. “You know you can talk to me about what happened with Jerrick.”
I pushed up on my elbows. Wow. Twice in one day she was trying. Maybe she was actually worried about me. Barely glancing at her, I shook my head before rolling onto my side. She’d lay into him for sure if she knew the truth.
No one had wanted to hear my side last spring, and two seasons later was too late to ask for it.
And as much as I disliked Jerrick now, I didn’t want her to destroy him. No, he could continue to dig his own hole wherever he’d landed. I hoped it was in Hades.
Two hours later when sleep still hadn’t come, I snuck down to Oops’s room and crawled into bed with her.
3. Conversation Murderer
I’d almost finished eating lunch when Jack slipped into the empty seat across from me and slapped his math notebook down on the table. He grabbed my novel, setting it aside.
“How’d I do?” He gave me his pencil.
“Why do you always wait until lunch to finish it?”
“What better time is there?” Jack twiddled his thumbs. A mischievous grin stole across his face. “You’re not doing anything.”
“I was reading.”
“You told Mrs. Wabash you’d help. Now help.” He pointed at the page.
The chaotic banter of the cafeteria faded as I focused on Jack’s maze of equations. Of course, he hadn’t bothered to erase any of the work he’d done in error. I pinpointed his mistakes and circled the wrong answers. “Redo it.” I slid the paper across the table to him.
“Can’t you just tell me what I’m doing wrong?” He scowled, pulling his work closer. He scratched his head, messing up his red hair even more.
“That’s what I did. Now redo it.” I glanced at the clock. It would be so much easier to give him the right answers. Especially since we only had five minutes before lunch ended. But both he and I knew he would understand better if he did it on his own. “If you do it as homework, Jack, I can look at it in the morning by our lockers.”
Jack smiled a little. “Someone wouldn’t take my shift.”
“You made me promise I wouldn't because you needed to save money for something.”
“Oh, yeah.” His brows furrowed as a look of angst entered his red-brown eyes. “Actually, I don’t need it any more for that, so you’re off the hook.”
I narrowed my eyes, troubled by the sudden anxiety in him. “What were you saving for?”
He shrugged, pulling his math homework closer to him.
When he didn’t explain, I really wanted to press for more information, but he rushed ahead.
“Anyway. Lunchtime is the best time to ask you for help. You already know all the correct answers, since you have class in the morning.”
“You’re a sneak.”
He grinned cheekily, although it wasn’t enough to hide the darkness that now lurked in his eyes. “Thanks for the help.” He grabbed his paper, preparing to leave.
“Wait…” I broke my chocolate chip cookie in half. Before handing part to Jack, I enhanced the flavor with positive source, which tutoring him always stirred within me. Plus, that morning, I’d walked to school rather than riding my bike. Much of my path to school wound past a natural setting. I’d forgotten how much positive source nature inspired.
“Thank you.” He took the cookie with a grin and stood. “Your stepfather makes some of the best.”
I almost rolled my eyes but stopped, not wanting to irritate Jack. Yes, he does, and I make them even better. I pressed my lips together and smiled.
As Jack left, I picked up my novel and tried to find my place again, which was difficult because before Jack came over, I was empty-reading, and I had no idea where I left off, and none of the passages looked familiar where I had marked it.
Out of norm, Lydia slid into Jack’s vacated seat. Her brunette curls were styled to perfection. Filled with product, they fell in waves around her shoulders, glistening in the radiant light overhead. She spent way too much time on her looks.
I once did, too.
“Why do you sit tucked in this corner all by yourself?”
“My company is the best company.” I turned back several pages until I reached chapter two’s beginning.
“No it’s not. You’re boring.”
She’d been blunt when we were kids, too. I looked over the book at her. “Which is why I sit here and not with your following. Without me there, there’s more laughter and gossiping. My presence is a conversation murderer.”
Lydia tapped her fingers on the table, then stood, beating the floor once with her foot.
“Would it hurt you to try?”
I furrowed my brows. Did she actually want me to sit with her? I doubted her crowd did. I’d kept my distance in the past because of Lydia, but back when I was friends with Sam, Sam had quietly bullied Lydia’s friends.
“When are you going to stop wasting time?” Lydia asked.
“Wasting time and passing time are two different things.” I pretended I was reading my book again.
“With you, I don’t see how they are. Tara, stop sulking. You’re missing out on a lot of happy memories.”
Tears burned in my eyes, and I bit back a retort. Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one who had to live with source tainting all her emotions.
Lydia folded her arms, then leaned closer to me. “I was wondering if you’d met the new guy, Asher?” She whispered.
I looked at her quickly. Maybe this was really what her intrusion was about.
“Briefly, why?”
“Whitney said he asked about you.”
My chest warmed, and I struggled to keep a straight face.
“Pretty sure he and Sam have a thing going on, though. I’d keep away.” Lydia scrunched up her face. “Ferdinand has been giving you creepy eyes too. What’s that about?”
“I don’t know what you're referring to. I hardly ever see Ferdinand.” An uneasy feeling settled inside me.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. “Come sit with us tomorrow.” She walked away, letting her hips sway as she navigated her way through the mass that exited the cafeteria. More than one head turned.
For a moment, it looked like she was about to catch up to Jack, but then she lagged several feet behind him.
“Have you still not gotten over him?” I muttered into my hand. They’d been the golden couple. What possibly could have gone wrong?
During the last period, the sky broke open. An hour before, sunlight had made the lawn golden. As rain and sleet beat the windows, the school grounds were cast in shadow, and the grass, which previously delighted in a chance for life, seemed resigned to its approaching death in the oncoming cooler weather.
The bright light of the classroom was a stark contrast to the gloom outside, but it didn’t ameliorate the sense of doom growing inside of me. I couldn’t walk home in that.
Mrs. Keely came to a stop at my desk. She set a hand on my test and straightened it. I looked up at her, not wanting to hear the reprimand. “Focus, Tara.”
Picking up my pencil, I made a show of working on the essay portion of a Revolutionary War exam, and Mrs. Keely continued around the room.
There were fifteen minutes left in the period, and I wasn’t close to finishing. Not even halfway. History was my least favorite subject, and it stirred up way too much dark source.
Instead of answering any of the questions, I drew zig-zagged lines down the side of the paper. One by one, my classmates turned in their tests and opened up their silent reading books.
I set down my pencil and looked out the window again. What had happened to summer? This storm was filled with too much ice.
Right before the period bell, Mrs. Keely returned and stood by my desk. This time, she placed her hand flat on my test. “Stay after,” she whispered.
Tension stole through me like rain water flowing down a dried-out creek bed. I had nowhere to direct the dark source her request inspired. I really wanted to dump it all into the test, but that would look insane to her and all my classmates.
Still by me, Mrs. Keely turned to address the class, her bulging baby belly taking up my field of vision. “We’ll begin discussing Reconstruction tomorrow. For your homework tonight, I’d like you to ask your parent or guardian what they know about it, then look up some information with them.”
With them? She was going to make me do work with Daniel? Not a chance. Mom was on call for the hospital, so she likely wouldn’t even be home. Not that I’d ask her either.
“Ah, come on, Mrs. Keely. We just had a test,” a kid in the back said.
“And you’re going on maternity leave next week!” a girl said. “We should have a party.”
“Learning never ends.” Mrs. Keely grinned.
Then the bell rang. Any response was lost in everyone’s enthusiasm to get out of there.
As Mrs. Keely moved from me to help another student, I pulled my binder from beneath my chair, opened it, and slipped my pencil into the pen pouch. While she was away, I could make a break for it.
But, as Mrs. Keely pointed out, “Learning never ends,” and I would be back in her class the next day. So I stayed.
Once everyone had gone, Mrs. Keely returned with a yellow pass. “Come back in during your advisory and finish this tomorrow, Tara.”
I shrank in my seat and stared wide-eyed at her. “I’d rather take the grade.”
“This is the second time this semester. I know you know this material. Why won’t you ever finish the test?”
“I hate history?”
“As we learn from it, we discover how to make the future better.”
She sounded rehearsed. “Then why is there still war? Can I go?”
Her dark brown eyes studied me a few seconds longer. She sighed and picked up my test. “Yes.”
I got up, leaving the pass on my desk, and headed toward the door.
Jack had jazz band practice, and I was still too sore at Lydia to ask her for a ride.
The only other option I knew of was Izzie, who was so starved for attention she’d take my request for a ride as an invitation to be her new best friend. She seemed to think since I had no friends, we were perfect for each other, but there was a difference between being friendless and being a loner.
Leaving my backpack in my locker, I navigated my way to a scho
ol exit that would cut my walk time in the rain by at least thirty seconds. Coming outside, I hesitated under the overhang, watching the storm pour down.
“Need a ride?” said a voice from behind that made me shiver like spiders were all over me.
“Ferdinand.” I jumped out of his way. Most of the school referred to him as Nerdy Furdie because of the huge glasses he used to wear. Even though he had dropped wearing them last year, they still called him that. “No, thank you. My stepfather is picking me up,” I lied.
He touched my elbow for the barest of seconds, but in it, he grew more attractive to me—his dark hair soft as a raven, his brown eyes glowing like amber. No demon fire in them, like there had been in Jerrick’s, but the absence of it didn’t diminish his creep factor.
“Don’t!” I hissed, moving back. “I told you no last year, and my answer hasn’t changed.”
“We could have so much fun together.” He licked his lips before stepping out into the parking lot.
I retreated back into the school, wanting as much distance between me and him as possible. Now with Jerrick graduated, Furdie was the only alv my age in town. A year ago, he tried to push his influence on me, since I was the only changeling alva at school. At the time, I’d been so naive, confused about Jerrick, my long-time crush, dating my best friend Sam, and in need of a friend. That wasn’t Furdie’s intent. When I realized the creeper he was, it had been almost too late.
Shivers raced up my neck.
Leaving from the next possible exit, I chanced the stormy weather. Within minutes, I was hunched over with my arms folded against me to keep some warmth in my body. My teeth chattered uncontrollably.
Twenty minutes of this.
Well, freezing to death in an ice storm would prove one thing. I wasn’t the polar bear everyone in school thought I was.
A bronze car came alongside me.
Stepping further from the curb, I continued forward without even looking at the miscreants in the car.
“Hey! Polar bear! Wanna ride home?”
Glancing behind my shoulder at the girl in the passenger seat, I picked up my pace. It was Layla. And where Layla was, Samantha was close by. “I’m all right walking.”
The Changeling's Source (Evedon Legacy Book 1) Page 4
