The Changeling's Source (Evedon Legacy Book 1)

by Sarah Lynn Gardner

  Warmth flowed into my chest. The thought of being out somewhere alone with him had turned anxiety in my stomach like a hive of angry hornets for the last day. Being here, in the safety of my home, with Daniel nearby, Asher’s plan seemed golden for a first date.

  “Of course, if you were hoping for—”

  “I love it.”

  The edges around his eyes crinkled as he smiled, and I felt back at the beginning with him, butterflies in my stomach all over again.

  Except, we were past the beginning now. No need to keep to the edges of the dance floor, checking each other out.

  A reusable grocery sack sat on the kitchen island, filled with food. Daniel was in the process of setting out various pots, pans, and bowls for us.

  “Thank you.” I walked up close to him and whispered, “Give us some space?”

  Daniel eyed Asher with the ultimate fatherly “don’t mess with my daughter” glare. Then he did something he’d never done. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders in a side hug, giving my shoulders a squeeze. “I promised Nathaniel and Oops a fire out back. If you need anything, that’s where we’ll be.” With one last protective squeeze, Daniel nodded to Asher and retreated toward the backdoor.

  “I like your stepdad,” Asher said.

  I chewed on my lip. It was time for the wall I built six years ago to be broken down. “I do too,” I admitted.

  The resulting wave of relief was like water breaking through a dam.

  I kind of wished Daniel was close enough to eavesdrop, because I still wasn’t ready to say it directly to him.

  18. Somewhere Else to Be

  Asher brought along a Bluetooth speaker and turned on a playlist from his phone for us to jive to as we prepared tacos. The music was a mixture of oldies, Christian rock, and current lighter popular songs. Nothing heavy or depressing, which improved my positive source.

  “You know, I’ve never actually cut an onion.” I picked one up, letting an ounce of positive source into it to enhance its sweetness.

  Asher plucked it out of my hand. The space was narrow between the island and counter, which didn’t give us much room, and the closeness of his chest sent electrifying warmth through me.

  “Don’t worry, you won’t have to tonight either,” he said.

  “Why?” I spun around so we were not only inches apart but also looking at each other. The lure of attraction burned even stronger, and I leaned a smidgeon closer. “Because you don’t want to make a girl cry?”

  Asher chuckled and handed me a couple of tomatoes, purposefully letting his fingers graze my hand. “Start with these.”

  With my heart in a flurry, I turned back and set the tomatoes on the cutting board, once again letting positive source leak from me into them.

  Two weeks ago, if anyone had told me I’d be on a date with a tall, attractive basketball prodigy come back from the dead, I wouldn’t have believed him or her. Yet, here I was. But would it go anywhere?

  Or would Sam steal him back later tonight?

  Lingering near, Asher picked up my hand, turned the palm up, and placed a knife in it. “Good luck,” he whispered.

  It took me several seconds to clear my thoughts enough to chop tomatoes without getting my finger.

  As Penny Lane streamed from the speaker, he sang along in a conversational volume. I glanced over at him as he crumbled turkey meat into a skillet.

  Humming along with the music, I set to work, chopping the tomatoes and lettuce.

  Asher came beside me to wash his hands. “You’re great at dicing those.”

  “You mean the pieces are too small.” I scrunched my nose at him.

  “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” He winked, then bumped me over with his hip and peeled off the outer layer of the onion.

  “I really wanted to try that,” I said in a sarcastic tone.

  He snorted. “Stand back, Princess.” His eyes blinked with tears as he chopped up the onion faster than was humanly possible. I’d expected his to turn out perfect, like it would have in one of those home cooking TV shows, but his pieces were all different shapes and sizes, many way too chunky. Finished, he scooped up half of it and added it to the meat. “I never said I was good at this whole cooking thing.”

  “Maybe we could take a home ec class together next semester.”

  He glanced at me. “Have you taken the drawing classes yet?”

  “Drawing 1, yes.”

  “I’m signed up for Drawing 2.” His smile was bashful. “Do you have a spot in your schedule for it?”

  “It’s already on it.” The thought of an art class with Asher was like dancing in heaven. Another safe place to get to know him. I hoped I still felt the same way in January. “You’ll have to let me know what hour. Maybe we already have the same class.”

  “Great. Hey, can you pull out the tortillas to warm in the microwave?”

  I was pulling them out of their bag when an upbeat song I didn’t recognize played, and Asher simultaneously set a box of brownies on the counter by me.

  Taking my elbow, he whispered, his breath tickling my ear, “Shall we dance?”

  I turned around, wide-eyed, looking into his too-perfect green eyes.

  He held out one hand. “Yes? No?” He grinned, looking like he wouldn’t be offended one way or the other.

  Carefully, I took it. “Yes?”

  He laced his fingers through mine, holding up our hands palm to palm, and I enjoyed the warmth shared through that simple contact. It created positive source effortlessly. I closed my eyes and rocked my body side to side to find the rhythm.

  I relaxed, letting myself loose with the flow of the song. Positive source swelled inside me, and intuitively, I shared some of it with him through our linked hands.

  Asher occasionally spun me around, briefly touching my waist, but physical contact never moved beyond that and our joined hands. There was no taking his advantage. No pressure for anything more intimate.

  For me, it was just right.

  Finally, as the song ended, I looked at him, smiling big.

  His smile was thoughtful, with head cocked to one side. I noticed his gaze flit briefly to my lips before he quickly stepped over to the counter and picked up the box of brownies.

  A rush of warmth flared in my cheeks, and a restless energy surged through me. The thought that he might want to kiss me was overwhelming.

  “I’ve tried several homemade recipes for brownies,” Asher held up the box, “but nothing has been as good as these.”

  The brand was the same one Daniel always made. “My stepfather has said the same thing.” I stepped over to the oven. “What temperature?”

  “325.”

  There was a tearing sound as he opened the box.

  I entered the number with its resulting beeps.

  As I looked over at Asher, his gaze moved to me. A teasing smile lifted the corners of his mouth, but he didn’t voice his thoughts.

  This time, I was the one who glanced at his lips. Definitely too soon for that line of thought.

  Pushing aside the sudden influx of thought and feeling, I stepped alongside him and took the box out of his hands. “What do we need for this?” I asked, looking at the images for the ingredients.

  He slid the back of his fingers up my arm. “Oil.” Back down. “Eggs.” Up again. “And water,” he said in an all-too-alluring voice.

  My head shot up to the clouds.

  His fingers spider-crawled their way to my hand.

  I watched, heart beat pounding and breath held in suspense, as he picked up my hand and massaged it with his thumb.

  “Don’t forget to breathe,” he whispered.

  I released what breath I had left, lifting my gaze to his eyes. “Oil, eggs, and water.” My brain wasn’t working quite right. “We should have that.” I felt breathless, feeling like Bambi after meeting Faline.

  Oops burst in from outside. “I have to pee,” she squealed running toward the bathroom.

  What timing.

&nbs
p; Asher looked at the clock, and the moment really did pass as he picked up his pace to make the brownies.

  A jolting reminder he had another date tonight.

  Everything from that point on was a little too fast-paced. We finished prepping the tacos, sat to eat them, and ate too hot brownies as they came out of the oven. The earlier flirting grew minimal, and I could sense Asher’s anxiety rising. He grew quieter and quieter.

  All too soon, the clock changed to six-fifty-five.

  He washed the dishes while I dried, though we could have loaded the empty dishwasher.

  I placed the plates in the cupboard. “You really don’t want to go with them tonight, do you?”

  “Not really. I’d rather stay here and play a game with you,” he said. “Sorry that I have to run so soon.”

  “No worries.” I put the skillet away in the bottom cupboard. “I was the add-on to your plan tonight.”

  “Add-on?” he said, sounding alarmed. “Tara.”

  As I stood straight, he stepped over me. He placed wet, soapy hands on my arms and looked intently at me. “You weren’t an add-on.”

  “You have somewhere else to be. I can finish up here.”

  Asher seemed worried. “I liked this. I liked us. Can we do it again? I promise I won’t run off next time.”

  I smiled a little. “Promise?”

  He grinned, mirth entering his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Okay, go. You don’t want to keep Darcy waiting.”

  Asher visibly cringed. “Sure you don’t want to come—”

  “Yes,” I interrupted. “I am not going to spend an hour fighting for your attention with Samantha.”

  “This is going to be painful.” Asher washed his hands and took the towel from me.

  I walked him to the front door.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. “Maybe we can work on our project.”

  I nodded and shrugged. “Good night, Asher. Have fun.”

  He lingered. As nothing was said, a static feeling grew between us. A whole number of things that could be said or done flashed through my mind. Did he want to kiss me? I wasn’t ready for that. Finally, he nodded and stepped outside.

  The door closed behind him.

  Shoot, I should have said something more—he must think me cold or uninterested. I wished I could throw a fishing hook after him and reel him back in to redo the moment.

  Maybe I couldn’t do that, but I could leave him with something more. Taking a deep breath, I pulled the door open and stepped out on the porch.

  Asher stood still in the middle of the street, staring up at Samantha’s house. Relief filled me because he wasn’t gone from me yet.

  “Asher!”

  He swivelled around.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  A grin lit up his face.

  “I’ll see you later,” he said. Tucking his hands in his pocket, Asher strode with hunched shoulders up to Samantha’s house.

  It was one of those excruciatingly stressful things to watch. I retreated inside before I could see how delighted Sam was to have Asher outside her door.

  Going back to the kitchen to finish cleaning, I realized Asher had left his shopping bag and the speaker. I could run it over to him now and interrupt whatever magical greeting Sam had devised for Asher.

  Or I could hang on to it, thus forcing Asher to return to my home.

  I liked that latter idea a lot more. The first was too catty.

  After putting on a jacket, I headed outside. Stepping off the back deck, I passed the half-basketball court and found Daniel, Nathaniel, and Oops outside, sitting around a campfire near the back line of trees bordering our property. They ate the tinfoil dinners they’d made.

  “Those smell good.” Sticking my hands in my jacket pockets, I sat on one of the limestone boulders placed around the pit.

  “Is he gone already?” Daniel asked.

  “Don’t look so happy.” I shrugged. “He had somewhere else to go.”

  “Did it go well?”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it,” I said.

  “Okay.”

  “Can I use your phone really quick? He left some things here I want to remind him about.”

  “Sure, Tara.” Daniel leaned to one side and pulled his smartphone out of a side pocket. He scrolled through and handed me his phone, already set up for Asher’s number.

  Seeing that they’d had an earlier conversation, I was tempted to snoop, but I resisted, a little worried about what I would find out.

  This is Tara. You left your speaker and grocery bags here.

  He was quick to answer. I’ll stop by later and pick them up.

  That was one way to reel him back. I tried to hide a smile. As I handed the phone to Daniel, it buzzed.

  Asher had texted again.

  Can I stay if it’s not curfew?

  My heart pumped with sudden warmth. He hadn’t given up on me.

  “Can Asher possibly hang out a little later?” I asked Daniel. “It would be before ten.”

  Daniel hesitated, looking confused.

  I lifted an eyebrow, giving him the challenging look I always gave him when he wanted to fight me on something. Apparently, I wasn’t quite ready to give up all my old habits.

  “Sure, that’s fine.”

  And apparently, he hadn’t developed too much stronger of a backbone. I texted Asher back. Yes.

  Asher sent me a smiley emoji.

  I stuck around outside long enough to make s’mores with Daniel, Oops, and Nathaniel. It amazed me how much I liked spending time with all of them. I really had wasted time. Oops then wanted me to tuck her in bed, so I carried her inside on my back, helped her pick out pajamas, and made sure she swished and spat when she brushed her teeth.

  “I thought you were old enough to do this all by yourself,” I teased.

  Oops grinned at me before pushing me outside of the bathroom. “I need my privacy to pee.”

  I retreated to her room and picked up one of her anthologies of fairy tales about strong heroines.

  Mom appeared in the door, dressed in a pair of scrubs. “Hey,” she said, smiling. “How was your date?”

  “Short, but it was good.” I shrugged. “Don’t worry. We didn’t kiss or anything mushy.”

  “Mommy,” Oops shouted. She appeared giving Mom a hug around the legs. Stooping, Mom lifted her off the ground and carried her over to the bed. She plopped her down by me.

  “Looks like Tara has a fun bedtime story planned for you.” She grinned. “I’m going to change into my pajamas. Then, can I come lie down by you?”

  Oops nodded and snuggled right up next to me.

  As Mom straightened, she patted my leg. “I’m happy it went well.”

  I waited in the music room with my eyes almost literally glued to the grandfather clock. It was just after nine, and Asher still hadn’t returned, which meant any time we got to spend together was dwindling, because he had to be home by ten.

  Swallowing, I leaned forward and closed my eyes, gripping my arms on either side.

  An overwhelming amount of dark source from worrying about Asher having a good time with Sam spoiled the positive source created during dinner.

  My head hurt.

  Please, come spend time with me.

  A car drove up our street, drawing my attention to the window. Not him. Once again disappointment made my heart lose more hope. If he was more interested in me than Sam, he should have been back by now.

  Instead, he’d spent more time with her than me now. He was also with David and Layla and a group of other popular jocks. I wasn’t an athlete. He was probably having more than twice as much fun with them than he had with me. And Asher drove alone with Sam.

  The dull ache in my head sharpened.

  I can’t do this. I can’t keep fighting Sam for a boy’s attention. She saw him first. I needed to let him go. This wasn’t going to work. No, undoubtedly, it would stir more drama between us.

  A car came up the str
eet, stopping pretty close to our house.

  I glanced at the clock. Nine-eleven. Swiveling around, I pulled the curtain aside in time for Asher to open the car door for Sam. Both grinned and laughed about something.

  Despair squeezed my chest. I wasn’t the only special one capable of receiving that look.

  Their lively conversation continued as they walked up to her front door. Asher had his hands shoved in his pockets, while Sam wove her arm through the crook of his elbow. As she moved right alongside him, hips swaying, Asher did nothing to back away from her or move away from her contact.

  Never once did he even look my way.

  I shouldn’t have watched. This was not helping my feelings toward him.

  As they paused outside her door, they stood across from each other. Still yapping away at each other, though there was no longer any contact. Until Sam rested her hand on his arm.

  My heart tanked.

  They’re playing me. This is all some cruel joke, and Asher’s part of it.

  Thoughts too far back in my brain tried to argue that this notion was ridiculous.

  My heart screamed back. He knew Sam before he knew me. All week, he’d played himself off way too cool. He was part of her scheme to humiliate me again. No wonder she hadn’t come after me yet.

  Why else would Asher try over and over again when I kept giving him the cold shoulder? It had to be some sort of game—to see if I would relent, and then when I did, to shove me off a cliff.

  Asher went inside with Sam.

  They know I’m watching them. He’s flaunting in front of me now that Sam is his girl.

  He hadn’t changed from his Sculley the Skull days. This was another manifestation of his cruel, cocky, selfish character.

  A contrary voice tried to argue back that I was being overly sensitive, but too much negative source turned inside me. I am not going to be made a fool.

  Jumping up, I headed into the kitchen and grabbed his grocery sack and speaker. The tigress in me wanted to purposefully drop it, but that was not going to be how I worked.

  Putting it in the bag, I carried both outside. Watching to make sure Asher wasn’t out yet, I quietly hurried to his car and set the bag on his windshield before racing inside.