ELEVEN
Just like waking from a dream, I open my eyes to find myself in Hollie’s truck. Sitting in the driver’s seat, pants a little damp around my waist and butt.
That wasn’t a dream. Not a chance. But why was I asleep?
I fix my gaze through the windshield straight ahead to Blake’s house. It stands just as it did when I first pulled up. So, was it a dream? It felt way too real … but waking up with mermaids does, as well.
I reach in my purse and grab my phone. My hands shake as I find Blake’s number and touch send.
The phone rings three times before the polite recorded-voice lady informs me the number is disconnected and that I should hang up and try my call again.
Dropping my phone on my lap, I start up the truck, breathing in precious, hard-to-get air, hoping it will clear my head.
My gloves are on and I wonder if I ever took them off or if maybe I put them back on when I got to the car. Something tells me the dreamlike events I remember are true. Something other than the dampness of my clothes and the horrible frizz I notice when I take a cursory glance in the rear view mirror.
So I did leave the car. I went inside. That means Blake is gone…
A deep sigh is not enough. I begin to hyperventilate, but force myself to focus on the facts. Not my feelings. I think of my mother and Donovan and whatever it is I am supposed to do, or stop, or save—or whatever.
Gripping the steering wheel, gloved fingers hiding knuckles that most certainly are white, I consider my next move. And tell myself to get it together. I have to have my shit together better than this if I’m going to accomplish anything.
Kate Voegele isn’t going to work for this next drive. I plug in my phone and crank up Fall Out Boy’s “27.” I know exactly what the singer is talking about. I desperately hope my heart can find another home.
Color me surprised when Sloane’s face pops into my head. Again.
Sure, the dude is hot but I’m not so heartless as to forget Blake already. Especially not while I’m still sitting here across from his house! But then again, that so-called love wasn’t as real as I thought. So I deserve a true love at some point, don’t I? But not with a friend of Donovan’s … unless, like I wondered before, he’s just a distant friend who isn’t involved in all of Donovan’s evilness.
I really, honestly, do not need to be thinking about Sloane right now, though. I force him out of my head, drinking in his deliciousness all the while.
Pulling out of the parking lot, I drive aimlessly, figuring out what’s in my mind as best I can. I find myself west out toward the country rather than having gone east back to town—where I figured I would be.
I guess I will go back to Hollie’s to let her and Bonnie know what happened. It has to be better than wasting gas and time on the nonsense in my head. I drive toward the nearest house, planning to turn around in the driveway. But the truck slows and sputters and I have to guide it to the side of the road before I can make it to the house.
Isn’t this just perfect? This is exactly what I need… ’Cause my day’s not weirdefreakingnough already?!
I roll my eyes at myself. Sure, no one can argue that I’m dealing with some shit but I don’t need to freak out at each and every turn. I sense it is only going to get worse, so I take some deep breaths. OK. I concentrate on what is going on right now and I tell myself I can deal with it.
The music is playing too loudly when I grab my phone so I turn it down and then wonder why the music is on if the car isn’t. I try to start the car, to no avail. Going back to the phone, I realize with an exasperated sigh—which I can’t control, damn it—that I have no signal. How brilliant.
So I sit, head back against the seat, trying to come up with some sort of plan. Sometimes a good temple massage does the trick, but it doesn’t seem to be working for this situation.
Maybe I can figure out how to leave this world. I bet I can scry again if I find some water. I’m probably supposed to be in Avalon anyway. What good can I do here at this point? It isn’t like Donovan will make it easy for me to find him now that I know what’s going on…
Opening the door, gloves still on, I step out of the truck to take in what’s around me. A whole lot of nothing. Blake’s family lives, or lived, near the country, but I am way farther out than I even realized. Farther than I have ever been before. All that’s around is farm land. Dry farm land.
I hear a car coming so I walk off of the road and stand in the grass, not wanting to get hit and also thinking that I can possibly hitch a ride.
A calming control washes over me, lightening my worries. It hits me that driving inside what is basically a metal box was weakening me. I feel stronger by the second.
But then I recognize the truck driving my way. The same truck that brought me home from the party this morning.
Shit. Not good. Not good at all.
Donovan slows down and pulls up next to me. His windows are down and he asks me, “Did you break down? You need a ride?”
I can hardly make out his handsome human features through the black misty smoke twisting around his body. He literally emanates evil. My ‘true’ sight obviously doesn’t make everything beautiful. And this isn’t just ugly like Hollie’s house. This is a vision of pure depravity. He is as evil as they come, I am sure of it.
Well hell—what am I supposed to say? “Uh, yeah. It died and I don’t have any signal to use my phone. But I’m sure someone else will come along. Don’t worry about me.” I wave as though to dismiss my being stuck as well as waving him on, trying to get him to leave.
“Are you serious? You could be standing out here for hours. You’ll end up roasting and could even get sick. Wait—are you wearing gloves? You OK?” He somehow manages to make his expression, or what I can see of it, look concerned.
“Yeah, I’m fine. And, well, I suppose I could use a ride… If just to the closest gas station or something. I need to get the truck started somehow.”
“Well hop on in.”
I make sure to grab my bags and then I head over to the door of Donovan’s truck. The same, stinky truck I’m oh-so-fond of. I pause for a few seconds to gather myself; I need to act as normal as possible for this. Taking one last fresh breath, I get in and sit down. And hell if it doesn’t smell worse than it did earlier.
As I put on my seat belt, Donovan puts the car in gear and slowly pulls away from Hols’ truck. I put my hand to the glass and look back, as if reassuring both the truck and my friend I’ll be back.
“So how did you end up way out here?” Donovan starts.
Donovan—so strange that he was just ‘Andrew’ to me yesterday. I wonder if I’m even safe in this truck with him.
Wait … what am I doing in this truck with him? I was right by a house that had to have a phone!
There is no way I would have consciously chosen to get in here. He must have some kind of compelling power over me.
Crap!
“I’m sorry, what? My mind is a little scattered today. Must be from getting next to no sleep last night.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I was just asking you what you’re doing way out here.”
“Uh, well. I was just leaving Blake’s house.”
“Really? So he did get a hold of you? I thought you two were fighting—said he wasn’t gonna call. Huh. That’s where I’m coming from, too.”
Oh really? That’s not exactly possible.
“But I was just there and I didn’t see you.”
“It’s weird, right? I guess we just missed each other. He wasn’t doing so well when I saw him. How was he when you were there?”
I know damned well that Donovan is trying to get me to slip. I also know there is no way he’s telling the truth. Blake is gone now and Donovan wasn’t there when it happened.
I don’t want to tell him anything, though, since I’m not quite sure of what he is capable.
Except for trying to hurt my friends. I do know that. Shit … I shouldn’t have taken a ride. I’d be
better off walking. Again, I wonder why I’m not. I have to ask Bonnie about this. Donovan has to have used some sort of power of suggestion on me.
I grab my stuff and scoot as close to the door as possible, wrapping my arms around myself protectively. When I look out the window and actually pay attention to where we are, I realize I don’t recognize anything at all. And there is no part of my small town I don’t know. All I can see is forest in every direction. Not exactly normal for Indiana…
“So you don’t think you should have gotten in the car? It probably would have been smarter to stand there and wait.”
Chills run down my entire body. “Wh—What did you say? What are you talking about. I’m glad…” For some reason, I can’t get the rest of the sentence out.
“Tsk, tsk. Trying to lie doesn’t become you, Kellyn. Not one bit. You need to work on blocking people out of your head. I can hear every pathetic thought that runs through it.” Donovan’s words come out of his mouth like black cobras, ugly in every way possible.
My heart is racing as I wipe my palms down my sleeves. There is no doubt I am entering panic mode. I take a couple of breaths and reach for my bags, tightly holding them with my left hand. My right one goes to the door handle. I open the door and jump out of the truck, landing hard on my right shoulder. It’s not exactly a jump as much as a fall. A bad one.
I pull myself into a sitting position and bring my bags to me. Bringing my knees up carefully, I sit up for a minute with my head between my legs. I know I can’t stay here like this so I force myself to stand and brush myself off, feeling my arm to see if anything is hurt, or worse—broken. Thankfully my baptism made me much stronger than I realized.
When I get the chance to look up, the truck is moving back toward me. Shit! I’ve no clue what to do now. Am I really ready to fight him? This is still all too new to me and I feel lost.
I turn around and run to where the truck should be. But it’s nowhere in sight. We didn’t drive that far, yet only a dirt road and corn fields lay ahead.
The sound of the engine grows louder and I realize I can’t run anymore. I have no choice but to fight him—again. The best thing I can think to do is focus on getting my head together. I have to keep him out; not let him know what I’m thinking.
Turning back to Donovan’s truck, I toss my stuff to the side of the road and stand. Just waiting. Neither one of us move even an inch for a good few minutes.
I spend this time working on the only plan of action I have—building a mental brick wall. Mortar and all. Sturdy. I can picture it surrounding my mind. Without a wrecking ball, Donovan is not going to be privy to my thoughts. With my luck though, he’ll come up with one.
When I start to think that maybe he’s going to leave me alone, he proves my instincts wrong by opening his door and stepping onto the running board. He turns and faces me with his arm resting on the roof. I can’t be sure if he is smiling or not, but the smoke about him forms a smirking face of sorts.
He jumps down and saunters over to me. I stand my ground; I don’t move a muscle. I am acutely aware of my shoulders straightening and my fists clenching. My heart is under control and my hands feel dry. I don’t feel good but I feel as good as I can, considering.
His steps come in slow-motion. I would be happy if his walk ends up taking forever. Unfortunately, it doesn’t. Donovan steps right up to my face and stares down at me. He’s a tall guy and I’m pretty dang petite. But I don’t let him intimidate me.
I give myself a quick mental pep talk: OK—keep him out of your head. Do not let him know what you’re gonna do next. Brick wall, brick wall. It’s you against him and you will win. Everyone keeps saying how powerful you are, so feel that. Be it.
Wow, I sound like a cheesy-ass motivational speaker. But there is no response from Donovan. Either he is letting me squirm or I actually figured out how to block him from my thoughts. Either way, I can’t just stand here forever, smelling his disgusting breath.
And I really can’t let his evil overtake me. Soft, scalding strokes brush my body. The smoke is so strong, it must be some sort of faery fire.
“What do you want, Donovan? Honestly. What do you want with me?”
“Ooh, you didn’t call me Andrew. Progress.” He starts to walk around me in a circle and I have to keep turning in order to face him. “A fight is never fun when the prey is weak and stupid. I’m gonna like killing you.” The words hiss out of his mouth.
He stops and I stare him down, directly in the eye—or at least where I think his eyes are.
“Right, like I’m gonna let you kill me. Besides the fact that I can’t die seeing as I’m a faery… And I kicked your ass last night, if you can recall with your tiny brain.”
“Oh, you mean when I looked like this?” Donovan shape-shifts into the green monstrosity I had hoped never to see again. All I do is blink and he is changed.
Not about to let myself falter with him around, I don’t skip a beat. “Yeah, and I looked like I do now. You feel like a big bad ass picking on a little girl?”
“Little girl,” Donovan snarls. “You’re anything but. You’re what I’ve been waiting for.”
He pauses, tilts his head up, and takes a deep breath, seeming to revel in the moment.
“A generation of solitude, living every minute in anticipation of this one. And now it’s here… You know you’re not just some girl.”
I square my shoulders and move toward him—no matter how gross he is and how weird his voice sounds with his snake-like tongue. I can’t stand to be afraid. And I can’t afford to be.
“You’re right—I do know I’m not just some girl. I’m the one who’s gonna destroy your sorry ass. You tried to hurt my friends and there’s not a chance in hell I’m gonna let you try anything like that again.”
“Oh, but don’t you know? You may have stopped me from hurting pathetic Preston and Olivia, who were only interesting to me that night because their anger was enticing – but have you heard the story of your poor, poor, pretty mother? We’re not all immortal, as you well know. And you’ll be the next to end up like her.”
“Why? Why me? There’s no possible reason for you to want me dead. I’ve done nothing to you!” My thoughts attempt to bring clarity to this bs conversation, but it isn’t working. And I really don’t understand what my mother has to do with anything.
“I don’t need a reason, dear Kellyn.” My name sounds vile leaving Donovan’s mouth. I wish he wasn’t able to say it, to taint it.
“If you really do want to know why I despise you with every cell in my body, how about this for a reason? I want your power destroyed—or maybe transferred to me so I can use it for something worthwhile. All you’ll do is boring, good things with it,” He practically spits at me while speaking the last sentence.
I don’t need to fight the urge to move—to beat his ass to a bloody pulp—because his words leave me frozen. My mother’s memories crash over and under and through me. Pushing so hard in each direction that no single momentum has strength over another to budge the statue that is me. Such pain, destruction, and heartache—and it’s going to happen again? To me?
This makes absolutely no sense. How? Who is he besides what Bonnie said? Is there yet another creature like the one before and, if so, is it him? No, it couldn’t be. He’s just a kid; I go to school with him.
I hear a soft voice whisper, reminding me of my strength and my age. I’m one of the strongest fae alive yet I am even younger than Donovan. My mother’s voice has broken whatever spell my mind trapped me with, holding my body hostage, and I look down at the ground. While I consider my next move, I kick at the blacktop. Donovan stands still.
Confusion aside, I am now beyond fuming—absolutely livid. Thinking of my mother was one thing, but hearing her voice put everything into perspective so much more. Like I told Donovan, there is no way I am about to let him hurt anyone else—especially me!
In my anger, I feel ten feet tall. I am positive that he is going to be destroyed, one w
ay or another.
I look up from my feet and smile sweetly as I shake the pebbles out of my flippies. “You should have attacked me when you had the chance, Donovan. Some simple thinking just now … it wasn’t too hard to decide your fate. You have no clue what you’ve just brought upon yourself.”
I cock my head, curious to hear his reply. Most likely some more arrogant bullshit.
“No, sweetie, I don’t think you know what you’re up against.”
“Seriously? You say you know who I am yet you doubt me? You must be an idiot on top of being a psychopath. You won’t get away with whatever little plan it is you’re scheming.”
“Think what you will. I know the secret. Your mommy’s dead and you will be soon, too.”
Condescending little prick. Can he be any more cliché? Seriously, what’s this all about? His stupid comments are pissing me off even more.
“Shut the fuck up about my mother. Damn!”
My emotions become entirely too much at this point.
Kicking Donovan in the groin, I slam my forehead down into his. Yes, down. I felt so tall because I actually am. Without trying, or even considering this type of advantage, I have changed my body simply by wanting it and needing it.
He stumbles back a bit and begins laughing.
“Really? You find this funny? Just wait and see how long you think of this as a joke—or any sort of fun, for that matter.” The opposite of my screaming seconds before, I say this quietly, yet fiercely, through gritted teeth.
“Ha ha! Feisty—I like that! I suppose maybe this isn’t the right time. I can wait longer. This will be a fun game to draw out. It’s always better that way, anyway.”
And with this, he turns and walks toward his truck. I breathe a sigh of relief, but also panic at seeing him go. I wonder why he’s leaving and what he’s going to do? Whatever it is, I have to figure it out and stop him.