Read Chrysalis: The Emergence of Emery (The Gifted Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Maria Macdonald
I’ve never had one of those moments. You know—the ones where you see your life flashing before your eyes? Even now, after those guys just attacked me, or even as I follow this man—
who could be a serial killer—I don’t feel fear.
Maybe I should be scared?
“You’re safe.” The clipped words come from in front of me, and I let my eyes move to the back of his head. He’s tall, he must have at least seven inches on my five foot five frame. He’s also lean, but still bulky enough for me to believe he has a six pack. The blond hair—I have no doubt usually cascades down his neck—is pulled up into a man bun, and I already know those short whiskers cover the lower half of his face. He’s exactly the type of guy I stay away from. Dangerous, cold, and probably hiding a sharp tongue, something I’m not unaccustomed to. He emits an edge that I often find uncomfortable. For the first time tonight a shiver, accompanied by trepidation, runs through me.
Did he feel my worry? Is that why he answered my unspoken question?
“No. I read your thoughts,” he says twisting around to look at me while walking backward.
“You have eyes in the back of your head, too?” I ask flatly, pointing to the road in front of him.
He smirks at me. “That’s what you say in reply to my revelation?”
I shrug. “I just killed three of my bullies by touching them with my hands.” I watch as he winces at my words, then quickly gathers himself. “Telling me that you listened to my thoughts doesn’t seem like the strangest thing that’s happened to me tonight.”
“Fair enough,” he says, spinning back around and continuing in silence. I want to ask him where we’re going. How any of this is possible. Who he is. And, why he called me Emery. But I have a feeling I will know soon enough, and while I’m walking, I can pretend it’s all a dream or a nightmare. Although strangely, I feel like my real life was more of a nightmare than tonight’s adventures. The silence as we walk is comforting. It’s something I’m used to, being by myself most of the time, I’m still surprised how well I interact with people when the need arises.
My legs feel heavy, but they don’t hurt, and considering we’ve been walking for nearly an hour—and I’ve never been good in gym class—I’m amazed I’m still moving at all. Closing my eyes I breathe in through my nose, dew hangs in the air and the cold is creeping up my arms.
“Here.” The word is muttered, almost subconsciously, by the guy leading me.
“What’s your name?” I venture a question. Just the one.
“Elijah. We’re nearly back now,” he shoots out.
I don’t say anything else. Instead, I just follow
Elijah
up the dark lane.
We’ve walked out of town, so far out of town I didn’t realize anyone lived back here. We crossed the Savernake sisters
’
fields and traveled through the forest behind. It’s somewhere I’ve never dared go before. Too afraid to venture—the woods were dark and creepy, plus there were always whispers, tales about magic and monsters, and I was always alone. I’m not afraid now, though. As we near the solitary house, the lane almost compels me to approach, to enter. There’s a warmth about the house, which is confusing as it’s big, imposing, dark, and looks like it’s about to fall apart. So much so, that it should probably be demolished. There’s moss around the windows and ivy winding its way up the outside wall, suffocating the chimney. The dark porch surrounding the front of the house looks like a barrier. It’s like a scene from an evil fairytale
.
“Elijah….” I hear a rumble from the side of the house as a figure steps out of the shadows. My jaw drops at the sight. He’s six foot five at least and built, not like a muscle head gym freak, but like an athlete. His black hair is cut close to his head, but not close enough for it to be a buzz cut, with beautiful tanned skin that makes me wonder if he’s of Italian descent. The only thing that’s better than what I’ve seen of him so far are his eyes, they’re golden, like actual gold, sparkling and enticing. They’re fixed on me, unwavering, and I’m completely mesmerized. I feel myself drawn toward him, but then his eyes close and he moves from looking at me to Elijah.
“You’re bringing strays home now?” he spits out with a sneer, before drifting back into the shadows. Elijah sighs, looking down to me.
“Ignore Kade. Come on.” He flicks his head in the direction of the door, yet doesn’t offer an explanation and I don’t ask for one. We walk up the steps onto the porch. I twist my head to the right and focus on the spot where the guy was previously standing. I can’t see him, but I can
feel
him. Which is weird and makes my stomach clench. Just before I follow Elijah into the front door, I see Kade’s golden eyes glimmer in the darkness, before disappearing, like they’ve been extinguished.
Wow! Weird.
“You might want to stop thinking. Unless, of course, you
want
me, or someone else to hear?” Elijah asks as I shuffle along behind him. I don’t answer his question, and he chuckles. “Up here,” he tells me, leading the way upstairs.
Quietly moving and taking in my surroundings, I notice the inside and outside of this house are completely at odds with each other. Where the façade is dark, scary almost. Inside is a lot brighter and modern. It’s as if someone is trying to hide the identity of the house, maybe trying to warn people away, as crazy as that sounds. We reach the top of the stairs and turn left, I can hear scratching noises and my fingers start to tingle.
“Ignore the tingling, it will go,” Elijah tells me.
Frowning I ask. “Did I think that?”
“No, I get the tingles. So you will, too.”
“Well, that’s not odd,” I reply snarkily.
“Oh, it gets worse,” he mutters, and I just know that he’s grinning, even though I can’t see it. “Your room.” Elijah opens a door and moves to the side so I can enter. He follows me in and closes it behind him, while I take in the space. It’s nothing special, but it’s not too shabby either. A pale blue room—my favorite color—with beautiful white patterns swirled all across the wall. There are wooden shutters on the windows and a white four poster bed, with a blue bedspread, matching curtains, and a rug. Two other doors sit either side of an antique looking dressing table. Finally, at the end of the bed is a chest with a blue throw over it. Apart from these features the room is empty.
“That door is your bathroom, the other one your wardrobe,” Elijah tells me.
I look around at the pretty, homely room and smile. Suddenly realization kicks me up the butt. “I have to go home, get some things,” I babble, still staring at everything, but my smile gone.
“You can’t go back, this is your home now. Nowhere else is safe for you, not until you know everything.”
I look him up and down, then screw my eyes shut, hoping that this is all my kooky imagination, and I may wake up in a mental hospital. When I open one eye back up Elijah is still standing there, now with his arms crossed and the corner of his mouth curling.
“I need clothes,” I whisper, looking down at my body, suddenly self-conscious, aware of my tattered state.
A frown flits across his face then he replies. “We’ll go shopping, I’ll take you to get anything you need tomorrow, but right now you need to rest.” His reply is soft, but firm.
“No, I don’t need to rest, I need to know what the hell is going on! And
you
need to give me some answers!” I can feel my heart rate ramping up its pace, and I place one hand over my chest, which seems to ease the pressure. Elijah’s eyes move to my hand then back to my face, searching for something.
“I’m sorry,” he tells me.
“For what?” I ask, rubbing my chest harder.
“For this,” he answers, while simultaneously placing his thumb on my forehead. I feel my whole body go numb, and as I start crashing to the ground Elijah catches me.
“What did you do?” I rasp out.
“Shhh… you need rest. I’m just going to help you get that,” he says while placing me inside the bed covers. Pulling them up to my shoulders, he stares down at me. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring in a chair and put it in the corner. Nothing will happen to you, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Why are you looking after me?” I murmur, my eyes becoming heavy as I realize I’m being dragged into sleep by something other than my own body.
“Because… I’m your brother.” His words are the last thing I hear before the blackness takes over. Even then I’m not even sure I’ve heard him right.
The fluffy kitty is sleeping in my lap. I rub along his back, from head to tail, just like Jenny taught me. His soft fur is warm, and kitty’s tail tickles my knee. I want to laugh, but if I laugh then Mr. Saunders will hear. Mr. Saunders is mean, he makes Molly cry, and I try to keep him away from her. She’s so little. Even though she’s nearly eight and I’m only seven, I’m bigger than her. When we make noise Mr. Saunders shouts at us. Last week Molly and me ran into the fields so we could hide until Jenny was home.
Jenny is my big pretend sister, she has the same mommy and daddy as Molly, but not me—I don’t know who my mommy and daddy are. We all live here with Mr. and Mrs. Saunders. Jenny makes sure we’re all okay when Mrs. Saunders is out. Today Jenny has taken Molly to buy some shoes, and Mrs. Saunders is visiting a poorly lady, ‘cause she is a doctor. I came out to the garden so I wasn’t under Mr. Saunders feet, he says we should be seen and not heard.
Farmer Brighton’s gun goes off, he’s always trying to shoot birds, his red face is very smiley. He tells me the birds are annoying, and that Sid the scarecrow is useless, ‘cause they sit on his shoulder and head instead of being scared of him.
Today when it makes a loud bang, the kitty must be scared. He cries and digs his nails into me. I try not to wail, Mr. Saunders doesn’t like me when I’m loud. But the poor kitty is holding on so tight, I have to pull his claws from my skin. It hurts so badly and I try to be soft, but Farmer Brighton’s gun goes off again, and kitty digs back in before running away.
I scream and cry. I must have woken Mr. Saunders ‘cause I can hear him shouting. I look at the door and see him, he starts running at me. I can’t help it when I whimper, and I can’t run ‘cause my leg hurts. I need some plasters. Mr. Saunders doesn’t say anything as he reaches me, but he pulls his big arm back and has his scary face on, so I close my eyes, like I always do. My punishment for being noisy never comes, though. When I open my eyes, Mr. Saunders is asleep on the floor. I look around but nobody is here.
My eyes spring open and I gasp, holding my hand around my throat.
“It’s okay, you’re okay.” I hear the soft voice and sit bolt upright. “Breathe… in, out… come on
,
Emery. Get yourself under control.” I blink a few times and look into a pair of ice blue eyes. Kind eyes.
“Elijah,” I whisper.
He gets up from his chair and moves to sit on the side of my bed, wrapping me in his arms. “It was you, wasn’t it?” I ask. He doesn’t reply just rubs slow circles on my back. “It was! That day in the garden of one of my foster homes, with the cat? Tell me it was you?” I beg.
“It was me.” His answer is short, but it makes my body sag into his.
“You always watched over me?” I questioned.
“Not always, I couldn’t always be there.” I look up into his face and see sadness pass across his eyes.
“Can you tell me what’s going on now?” I ask.
“Not yet. You’ll find out what you need to know… the stuff that’s important. First, just a little at a time. Everything else I will tell you when I can. Right now, I need to make sure I don’t overwhelm you. I promise you, though, I will tell you everything. Eventually.”
I nod in answer, I can see the sincerity in his eyes. “Okay, but one thing. Why do you call me Emery? My name is Emma.”
“No, your name is Emery. You have been called Emma to keep you hidden all these years. That’s enough for now, come, get washed up and meet me downstairs in the kitchen. I’ll make you breakfast,” Elijah tells me, pulling away and standing back up. I raise my eyebrow at him but remain silent. “Go back downstairs, the way you came last night, then head to the back of the house, toward the noise… trust me, you’ll hear the noise.” He finishes with a wink and walks out of the room.
Twenty minutes later, and although I’ve brushed my teeth with a new toothbrush that I found in the bathroom, pulled my fingers through my hair and splashed water across my face, I still feel dirty. I have no clean clothes yet, so I’m still wearing the jeans and my torn shirt from last night. My jeans have a rip in the knee too, and most of my buttons are missing from my shirt. But I’ve put them back on because they’re all I have. Tying a knot in the hem of the shirt, I stare out of the window seeing nothing strange outside, just vast fields and sunshine. I shuffle to the door and place my hand on the doorknob.
“You can do this. Even if you have no idea what it is you’re supposed to be doing,” I chant three times before pulling the door open and striding down the hallway, with more purpose than my nerves want to allow. Feigning a confidence I’ve relied on almost all my life, I reach the bottom of the stairs. I can already hear the noise Elijah mentioned guiding me to the kitchen. Upon entering, everyone stops what they’re doing to look at me. I feel like I’m naked in front of a classroom full of my peers, that same nightmare that most of us can relate to.
“Hi,” I whisper, then wave my hand in a really lame gesture.
Everyone bursts out laughing, and a guy, who must be around twenty, with dark blond hair and a devilish grin, looks over to Elijah and says, “Yeah, E, she’s cute.”
Elijah smirks and shakes his head, but I hear a growl from the corner, and look that way only to catch eyes with Kade. I’m once again trapped in his stare, but I notice his eyes are hazel brown this morning. I frown, confused at the complete change in color.
“So, you must be Emery?” A female voice distracts me from Kade’s intense stare, and I look across the room to a petite brunette standing close to Elijah. Her hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and it swishes as she talks. She’s wearing
Daisy Duke
shorts and a white tank with cowboy boots. She looks cute.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” I reply back with a smile.
“Ahh… yes. I’m guessing E hasn’t told you much yet. This must have all come as a big shock. Especially your name. That must be freaking weird, right?” she continues, moving into Elijah and placing her hand on his chest. I can only assume she’s his girlfriend.
“Yeah, this is all a bit… um… strange,” I mumble gesturing around the place.
“Okay, enough with the questions, Sicily,” Elijah says looking down to her face softly.
The kitchen door suddenly swings open and a gorgeous redhead saunters in. She looks across at me and sneers. Her disdain toward me clear enough.
“Couldn’t get the charity case some decent clothes?” she snaps.
“Katarina, that’s enough,” Elijah says, stepping away from Sicily and folding his arms across his chest.
She raises one eyebrow and smirks looking at Elijah then back at me.
“Maybe you should’ve let those guys have her. She might have learned something.”
I feel my chest compress at her words, and once again there’s a growl in the room, but this time it’s from behind me. Katarina looks at me with disgust, as her lip curls then she moves her eyes above my head, staring at whoever’s behind me for a moment, before spinning around and stomping back out of the room. Without another word
I look around at everyone, their eyes are mostly on me, and they’re all filled with something akin to pity. “What did I do to her?” The question pops out of my mouth before I can consider it, but I’m confused as to why someone can so obviously hate me with no apparent reason.
I’ve been bullied my whole life, and have always dealt with people hating me, but not at first sight.
“Nothing. She’s just a bitch,” Sicily says looking toward the door with anger. Her eyes move back to me, and they soften. “Come on, I’m going to take you shopping today,” she says clapping her hands together with excitement. “Before we go, though, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
Elijah rolls his eyes next to her but smiles.
“So you met miss stroppy panties, Katarina. Ignore her, we all do. Obviously, you know E, and I’m Sicily. This is Tristan,” she tells me pointing to the blond guy from before who apparently thinks I’m cute, “Tess, who’s Tristan’s twin sister, and Miles, are out today.” Her eyes glance quickly around the group. It suddenly feels awkward, and I’m guessing she can’t tell me where they are. She coughs and then continues, “The growly guy behind you is Kade.” I glance behind catching Kade’s scowl and wondering when he maneuvered behind me.
“Hi,” I whisper to him with a small smile. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just stares at me, like I’m a puzzle. One he wants to unravel.
I turn back to the rest of the group. “It’s nice to meet you all, and I hope I’m not sounding ungrateful because I’m totally grateful… especially… you know…” I look over to Elijah and then down at my clothes, “…that you saved me last night from those guys.” I hear Kade growl once again, but ignore him and continue, “I just… I want to know what’s going on. I mean… what I did last night, those guys…” I look to Elijah again not saying the words, I have a feeling that everyone here knows what I did, but I don’t want to say it out loud. A bang makes me jump and I turn to see Kade marching out of the room. Swinging back around to face Elijah, I notice he’s staring at the door Kade just left through, a muscle twitching in his cheek.
Sicily claps and brings my attention back to her. “Come on, let’s go shopping. I have some clothes if you want to change?” she offers.
“That’s lovely of you to say, but you’re kind of tiny. I’m pretty sure if I wore any of your clothes I would look like the
Incredible Hulk
, you know, without all the green.” I bite my lip and crinkle my nose, hoping I haven’t offended her. I know that’s not the case when she giggles.
“See, told you E, she’s cute,” Tristan says winking at me.
I look between Tristan and Sicily, then my focus is back on Elijah. “You need to explain some things to me,” I state crossing my arms defiantly.
“I will, I promise. Go shopping. Have fun. Sicily will look after you. We’ll talk when you come back.”
I sigh, but realize I’m not going to win this argument anytime soon.
“Yay, shopping!” Sicily says excitedly while bouncing up and down on her toes.
My feelings are mixed. I want to know what the hell is going on, but it’s also nice knowing that I might be making my first real friend since I was eight years old. Rolling my shoulders back and smiling, I look around this new bunch of people, then landing on Sicily I nod my head.
“Come on then, show me how to shop.” I hope she doesn’t see the nervousness that I can feel zipping around every inch of my body as she grabs my hand and drags me outside. I have a feeling today will be a whole new experience for me.