FEARLESS: The King Series, Book One (17 page)

BOOK: FEARLESS: The King Series, Book One
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Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

 

 

My Sunday was wholly consumed with the dreaded shopping. My mother dragged me out of the house and to the mall before noon, and she had me trying on dresses of every style while she examined each with a critical eye.

“Too young,” she would proclaim. Or, with more urgency, “Too
old!
” Some were too long, others too short. I was getting worn out.

Finally, in the fifth store, she handed me a dress in the softest, silkiest material I’d ever touched. It was a deep green, and it shimmered as I dropped it over my head. The thin straps rested lightly on my shoulders, and the bodice draped loosely but tastefully. The skirt swirled to just below my knees, and as I stood in front of the mirror, I actually felt a stir of excitement when I considered wearing this dress to the dance.

“Oh, Tas! It’s beautiful. It’s perfect! Do you like it?” My mother was effusive in her pleasure when I stepped out of the dressing room stall.

I gave a dramatic little turn in front of the larger mirror. The dress danced around me.

“Yes, I do. I think this is it. Now can we go eat?”

“Shoes first. Eating later.”

Thankfully for my empty stomach, shoes were much easier to locate now that we had the dress decision made. I squealed with true girlish delight when I saw the dainty silver heels. They were simply made—just straps and heels—and delicate. I knew they would set off the dress to perfection.

“And I have a brand new silver purse you can borrow if you like,” my mother offered.

“Sold! Now let’s please eat before I pass out.”

We found a small restaurant in a corner of the mall. The Sunday after-church crowd hadn’t yet arrived, so we had our pick of the tables. We decided to share a chicken and fruit salad and sipped sweet iced tea.

Before my mother even opened her mouth to speak, I sensed that she was feeling reminiscent.

“I can’t believe that you’re going to your first dance,” she sniffed. “It just seems like yesterday that you were my tiny little girl, toddling around…”

“Mom,” I muttered in embarrassment. “I’m just going to a dance, not getting married or joining the foreign legion.  Most girls my age have gone to loads of formals. I’m just backward.”

“You’re not backward. You’re just right. Don’t ever think that.”

I smiled at her over my forkful of fruit. “I don’t, really. I just think it was a matter of finding the right person.” I thought of Michael, and my smile deepened.

My mom sighed. “I do worry. I’ve never seen anything like it. You… actually light up when you talk about Michael, or whenever he’s around. It’s not just your expression, it’s like a glow from inside you.”

“Why would that worry you?”

“Because you’re seventeen years old. You’re not supposed to have this happen so young. You’re supposed to finish school, have a life, and
then
find that special person.”

“But maybe I
am
supposed to have this happen now.  Maybe that’s the way my life is supposed to work. And I do have a life, already,” I added.

She was quiet, eating and thinking. “I don’t want you to be hurt, and I can’t see how it can be avoided. I can tell that you feel strongly about Michael, but you’re very inexperienced. So much of life is in front of you. Circumstances are bound to pull you apart. Look, even next year, Michael’s heading for college. You have to accept that things will change.”
He’s going to go off to school and leave her here, with a broken heart. I don’t know how to stop that from happening.

Panic filled my heart. “I can deal with change. I’ve been handling that all my life. But did you ever think that maybe we won’t be pulled apart—we might be able to handle it, together?”

My mother nodded. “We’ll see. Tasmyn, I just want you to remember that this is your first relationship. So have fun, be young while you
are
young. Try not to be so intense. That’s all I’m saying.”

It might have been all she was saying, but she continued to think pretty loudly for the rest of the afternoon.

Chapter Thirty

 

 

 

Chemistry had been so quiet for so long, in terms of Nell and Ms. Lacusta, that I had gotten lulled into a sense of complacency. Ms. Lacusta hadn’t mentioned her chemistry club to me again; I hoped she had either forgotten about it or decided I wasn’t the right material after all. Nell never turned around, never looked at me; it was as though I had ceased to exist in her mind. And Liza had perfected the art of completing a lab without speaking a single word to me.

So I was totally unprepared on Monday when Ms. Lacusta approached my side of the table, her eyes focused on me. I had come into class a little early that day, since we’d had a test in French and Madame had let us go when we finished. I was still feeling challenged by the pace of Chemistry, and I was glad to have a few extra minutes to prepare for the day’s lesson.

The room was empty when I sat down in my chair, and I was so absorbed in the reading that I hadn’t noticed when others began trickling in for class. Even the growing buzz of thoughts didn’t distract me; I was becoming used to hearing it as my ability to maintain that mental curtain was slowly fading.

I didn’t see Ms. Lacusta coming toward me, but I sensed her. The strange and unsettling aura she carried wrapped around me, and I shivered as I looked up at her.

Although knowing the future was definitely not my gift, I had one of those moments where I knew exactly what was about to happen. Nell, Casey and Liza were sitting in their respective places; I hadn’t even noticed their arrival. Ms. Lacusta was about to bring up my possible involvement with the chemistry club again, and Nell was going to respond in one of two ways: either she would melt down right there, in front of the class; or she would bide her time and plot to somehow destroy me.

Ms. Lacusta was standing next to me. “Ms. Vaughn,” she purred, in that exotically-accented voice, “it occurred to me this weekend that you never responded to my invitation to join my chemistry club. I assume you did not forget?”

I held my breath for just about ten seconds, waiting, my eyes on the back of Nell’s head. She was motionless, except for the almost-imperceptible stiffening of her shoulders, but a spurt of angry thought erupted from her mind.

“I… I did speak to my parents, actually. And they feel that with me just starting out here and trying to catch up academically, I need to limit my extracurricular activities. So—thank you, but for now, I think I have to say no.”

I spoke in such a rush of words that I was sure she could tell how she unnerved me. I was glad that I had indeed mentioned the chem. club to my parents and convinced them that it wasn’t a good idea. So I wasn’t lying.

Ms. Lacusta’s gaze never wavered from my face. “What a shame,” she murmured. “You would have been a wonderful addition to our little group. I’ve been thinking lately that we needed some… new blood.”  She smiled thinly and her eyes flickered briefly over the girls sitting around me, none of whom had acknowledged her presence or her words. “Perhaps your parents will reconsider after you’ve been here a few months. Let me know. The invitation stands.”

I didn’t know how to respond, which was all right since she had turned quickly on her heel and moved to the front of the room to begin class.

I was shaken as I buried my head in the Chemistry book again. I tried to focus on the words before me, and on the teacher as she began class, but the low buzz had grown into a roar in my head. I could pick out words here and there from the indistinguishable drone. And then, a coldness crept over me.

She wants new blood, does she? Well, I’ll be happy to be oblige. When she sees what I’m going to do, there won’t be any need for people like that idiot behind me. She’ll see that I’m all she needs. The rest are just around for window dressing. Amber is going to be a perfect sacrifice, and then there won’t be any stopping me. The fullness of time is within the fullness of the moon. Blood equals power, and I’m not afraid to spill blood to gain power. That’s what makes me unstoppable. When she realizes that, everything will be perfect. It will be just the two of us… and the power…

A familiar wave of nausea swept over me, but I was determined this time not to let her knock me out. I gripped the edge of the table and drew several deep, slow breaths until my vision cleared and the sick feeling had subsided.

I had been on the right track, all along. I was certain of it now. There was no ambiguity in Nell’s thoughts today, and their vicious nature hadn’t left much to my imagination.
A blood sacrifice… it must be blood…

Now the only question was what I was going to do with this information. I knew that Michael was loathe to act on anything that wasn’t precise and specific. I still didn’t have any proof to back up what I had heard, so I couldn’t go to any teachers or to my parents with what I knew. I was positive that my parents would be more upset that I was giving any credence to someone’s private thoughts than about the very disturbing direction of Nell’s mind.

I didn’t hear one word of the rest of the class. The hum of thoughts stayed with me, but I concentrated on tuning out everyone but Nell. I didn’t want to listen to her, but I was hoping to get some more information on her plans. Any little thing might help. But although her anger simmered just below the surface, Nell was paying attention to the lecture and only the occasional image flitted through her mind. I recognized a fleeting glimpse of Amber, standing in the dark. But nothing else concrete emerged.

When the bell rang, Nell rose before I had even gathered my books. She swept past me with only the smallest icy glance. As frustrated as I was that I hadn’t pulled more information from her thoughts, it was a huge relief to have her away from me.

It was tempting to go in search of Michael, to tell him what I’d just heard. I wracked my brain to think of a legitimate excuse for getting out of my next class—the dreaded Speech and Debate—that would also allow me to pull Michael out of calculus, but nothing came to mind. And our classrooms for this period were at opposite ends of the school campus as well, so I couldn’t even count on a chance encounter.

I decided instead to concentrate on putting the information I had into some semblance of order so that I could present it to Michael at lunch as reasonably and unemotionally as possible. While the teacher introduced the topic of the week—it was political speeches, I guess because we were getting close to election day—I tuned him out and thought about chemistry club, Ms. Lacusta, blood and full moons.

Luck or something like it was with me, and Speech actually ended a few minutes early, with the teacher encouraging us to watch as many televised candidates’ speeches as possible in preparation for presenting our own on Friday. Lovely, that was what I needed. But I didn’t have time to dwell on it yet; I had the opportunity to waylay Michael before I went to English and at least ask him to save us an outside seat at lunchtime.

I saw him heading toward the library. It was rare for me to see him before he saw me, and I took advantage of the opportunity to observe him unnoticed. He moved through the crowds on the covered sidewalk, not rushing, yet not meandering, either. He had purpose in his stride, but I saw him catch the eyes of several classmates, giving a quick wave or a grin. The breeze ruffled his hair, and I felt the pleasure of watching him, and knowing he belonged to me.

This feeling was so warm and positive after what I had experienced with Nell today, and it reminded me that I wasn’t alone. Michael might not have the answers right away, but I knew that he would listen to me with an open mind and support me no matter how I decided to handle this.

I was so caught up in appreciating him that I very nearly let him pass me without accomplishing my mission.  Fortunately he saw me even before I opened my mouth to call his name, and I was treated to that instant brightening in his expression, the full smile that I knew was only for me.

“Don’t tell me. You ran away from Speech and Debate, and now you’re looking for a safe place to hide out?”

I grimaced. “If only. I did think about it actually, but I decided you wouldn’t appreciate me pulling you out of calc.  So instead I’m lying in wait for you here.”

He brushed my hair back over my shoulder. “Do I need to smuggle you into my independent study? I’m researching hybrids, and I could use an assistant.”

“You’ll have to muddle through without me, I’m afraid.  I just wanted to ask you to take our lunch outside today. We need to talk about something.”

Michael looked at me seriously. “Does this have anything to do with our conversation from this weekend?”

I heard the bell ring and glanced in the direction of my English classroom. “It does. There’ve been—developments.  I have to get to class. I’ll see you outside?”

He nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Chapter Thirty-One

 

 

 

It didn’t take long for me to share with Michael my most recent brush with Nell’s mind. He listened, pushing food in front of me every now and then. His expression was grave.

“So it sounds like it was your chem. teacher who pushed her over the edge with this,” he observed when I had finished.

“It didn’t make her happy,” I agreed. “She’s planning something drastic for Amber. I wish I could believe it was just a figure of speech—well, thought—but I really don’t think it was. What I heard was just so
black
.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t pain, and it wasn’t fear. It wasn’t even really fury. I just heard intensity. Hate, definitely. But she wasn’t really angry with me—she only feels contempt toward me.  I’m hardly a blip on her radar. But she’s determined to show Ms. Lacusta that she’s…” I furrowed my brow, trying to describe what I’d heard. “Worthy, maybe? Worthwhile? I don’t know. She’s trying to prove something, and that’s more important to Nell than anything else.”

“But you still think it has something to do with—” he lowered his voice, “—witchcraft?”

I had to be honest about this. “She never thought anything specifically about that,” I admitted slowly. “I never heard anything about spells or powers in so many words. But given her history—what you told me on Saturday, what your parents told me—it just seems obvious.”

Michael’s eyes were steady on mine. “The obvious answer isn’t always the right answer. Didn’t you once tell me that when people don’t understand something, they look for the most reasonable explanation, even if it’s the wrong one?”

I raised my eyebrows. “I just told you what I heard Nell thinking today. I didn’t give you any of my own commentary. But admit it, your first conclusion was the same as mine. And you call witchcraft reasonable?”

He was quiet as he ate the last piece of fruit on my plate.  I closed my eyes and leaned toward him, trying only to feel his mood, not to hear his thoughts. What I felt was deep concern and a brooding indecision. I understood. On one hand, he wanted to agree with me, to tell me he had my back. On the other, he worried that doing that would put me in danger, either real physical peril or the less worrisome risk of humiliation.

His concern warmed me, but at the same time, I was impatient. I knew without a doubt that Nell had deadly intents toward Amber. It was hard to explain to someone who couldn’t hear thoughts how different it was from overhearing that person speak or even talking to her directly. Most people speak with an audience in mind, even if that is just one person. But unvoiced thoughts are so primitive and gut-level real that second-guessing motives is an exercise in futility, particularly if that person doesn’t know that what she’s thinking is being heard by someone else.

“I want to explain something to you,” I began. “When we’ve talked about my talent, we’ve mostly discussed technique, its limitations and so on… how I can control it or not. But I’d like you to consider this: my parents have known for most of my life what I can do. Even though I extend them the courtesy of not listening on purpose and really try not to hear anything accidentally even, they know that it’s a real possibility that I might slip up. I might relax my mental curtain and hear something. So taking all that into consideration, wouldn’t you expect their thoughts would be very guarded? But I can tell you that I have heard, completely by accident, some things that I never wanted to hear from either of them.”

Michael looked puzzled. “Okay. I understand, I think, but I don’t get what this has to do with Nell.”

“Remember when we first met, after you knew what I could do? Weren’t there times you thought things that you wished you hadn’t, because you weren’t sure if I were listening or not?”

He made a face that I knew was embarrassment at the memory and ducked his head. I wondered how often he still tried to censor his thoughts on the off chance I might be tuning into them.

“My point is, if you and my parents,
knowing
there was a real possibility that your thoughts aren’t always private, cannot control what you’re thinking, what makes you think Nell can or would? When I hear something from her—from anyone who doesn’t know about me—you can bet it’s a pretty reliable source. She doesn’t have any motive to think dishonestly. Add that to what I can pick up from her mood and feelings, and I tell you, this is serious, it’s bad and I’m willing to bet Nell is trying to follow in her mom’s footsteps.”

“Would you be thinking that if you didn’t know her past?”

I didn’t hesitate. “I might not have gotten it right away, but I think I would have come around to it eventually. It makes absolute sense when you consider what I saw her thinking and what I heard today.”

“But what if it’s just—kind of wishful thinking on Nell’s part? Just something that crossed her mind, not a real plan?”

I shook my head. “No. Not this time. When she first thought about a blood sacrifice, it was new. It had just occurred to her. Last week, it was less… formed. It was something that she was considering. Today there was real intent. It was a concrete plan.” I rubbed my hand over my forehead, remembering. “And even more, there was a sort of madness there I hadn’t really seen before. She’s beyond reason now.”

Michael took a deep breath. “So what do we do? We’re back to that. Nothing has changed as far as evidence.”

I nodded my agreement, but something
had
occurred to me that morning. “The thing is, now we do have a clue as to the timing. Something in what Nell was thinking—it was a strange way to phrase it, but I remember it clearly—
the fullness of time is within the fullness of the moon
. That sounds like something she might have read—or maybe a spell?” I tilted my head questioningly.


The fullness of time is within the fullness of the moon
…” Michael mused. “So you’re assuming she plans to do something to Amber during the next full moon.”

“Something that involves spilling blood. When is the next full moon?”

Michael laughed, without humor. “It’s this weekend. Remember, the Harvest Moon Dance?”

I groaned. “I didn’t know they actually timed the dance according to the moon.” Then I perked up. “Hey, if we have to worry about watching out for Amber, that means we’ll have to miss the dance, right?”

“Now how can you say that, after I know you spent yesterday dress shopping? Your mother would be crushed. No, we’ll still go. It’ll probably be a really good opportunity to keep our eyes on both Amber and Nell. Didn’t Anne say Nell was on the planning committee? So she’ll almost definitely be there.”

I sighed in resignation. “Yes. Oh, well. Do we know if Amber is going? I could ask her, but it’s a safe bet she wouldn’t answer me.”

“Can you pick it out of her mind?” Michael questioned.

“I can listen to see if she’s thinking about it, but no, you know I can’t just go around getting random information from people’s minds.”

“I can probably ask around and find out. So that’s our plan? Watch Amber during the full moon? I’ll need to check a lunar calendar to see how many days the moon is going to be full, when it starts. And of course technically the moon is only full for one night, so it would be good to find out if Nell’s idea of the full moon is scientific or mystical.”

“What do you mean, technically?”

Michael looked at me, shaking his head in mock sadness.  “Science, my dear. Astronomy. Although the moon
appears
to be full more than one night each month, actually only on one night is it technically considered a genuinely full moon. So if Nell is going by science, we’d have to find out which night is the true full moon.”

“Can you do that?” I queried.

“Of course I can. But how can we be sure whether or not Nell will go by that?”

“We can’t. We’ll have to find some way to keep an eye on her each of the nights that the moon is full, scientifically nor not. I’ll keep listening to her this week, too, to try and narrow it down.”

Michael scowled. “I don’t like that idea. Messing with Nell’s mind isn’t good for you.”

“But it’s our best way of getting information and keeping track of what she’s planning. And she just might give me something that’ll narrow down that window of time.” I reached across the table and laid my hand over Michael’s. “Really, I’ll be careful. She won’t know, and now that I’m more prepared, I can deal with it. I didn’t even almost lose consciousness today.”

“Maybe not, but you’re still very pale—don’t think I didn’t notice—and you’ve hardly eaten anything. It makes me crazy to think about you putting yourself at risk.” He glanced at his watch and expelled a long breath. “Lunch is just about over. You’ve got to get to class. Listen, be careful this afternoon, and we’ll talk more after school. I’ll see you at my car.”

He looked so troubled that my own resolve faltered a bit. I climbed off the bench and leaned over to touch my lips to his cheek. He grasped my shoulders and held my face close to his. He looked at me intensely, as though trying to see into my soul. Then he relaxed slightly and pulled me close to him.

“Hey, I love you, okay? Don’t forget.”

I stood up and threw him a saucy look. “As if I could. See you in a couple of hours.”

Somehow I made it to History on time. I slid into my seat moments before Mr. Frame began handing out thick packets of white paper, each stapled in the right-hand corner.

History test! It had completely slipped my mind all morning, preoccupied as I had been. I was fairly confident that I knew the material, but still, it made me jittery to face a test I wasn’t mentally prepared to take.

Mr. Frame was still in the front of the room, so I closed my eyes and concentrated on pushing the drone of thoughts out of my head. I had almost done it when I felt a tap on the shoulder.

“Hey,” Cara whispered. “Are you okay? I wondered where you were at lunch.”

I hate getting in trouble for talking in class, particularly in a test-taking situation. But I also knew I couldn’t be rude to Cara. I leaned my head back slightly, keeping my eye on Mr. Frame’s progress.

“Sorry, sometimes Michael and I eat outside,” I murmured in answer. “I’ll talk to you after the test, all right?” Without waiting for a response, I moved forward again and pulled out a pencil.

The test was challenging, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I finished about ten minutes before the end of class, and then I spent the rest of the time trying to listen to Nell carefully. It was hard to hear her when so many other people were thinking so loudly, I observed crossly. Every time I lowered my mental block, all I could hear were complaints about the test, people mentally hyperventilating about questions they couldn’t answer and the meanderings of those who had finished or already knew that they didn’t have a chance of passing. I sighed in frustration.

Nell was bent over her desk, and I couldn’t tell whether or not she had turned in her test. I closed my eyes and focused on her boldly this time.


Casey is poking her nose in where it doesn’t belong. She’s really beginning to annoy me. They all have to see that I’m in charge, I’m the one who knows everything. Maybe she’ll be the next one. She wants to know why we bother with Amber. She has no idea. And I saw her talking with Marica, trying to turn her against me… ah, soon they’ll understand.

The bell rang, making me jump and effectively ending any chance of hearing more from Nell.  Instead I was overwhelmed by the sudden noise of twenty-two students thinking loud thoughts of relief, dread and resignation as the test ended. Nell was up and out of the classroom so quickly that I hardly saw her leave.

I nearly forgot to finish my conversation with Cara.  She was looking at me expectantly as we moved to the door.

“Sorry,” I apologized. “I’m paranoid about getting yelled at for talking in class.”

Cara raised her eyebrows in amusement. “Does it happen often?”

“Not for good reason. I’ve gotten in trouble for answering people who asked me for a pencil or whatever, and that annoys me.”

She laughed. “I know what you mean. Sorry. I just wondered about where you were at lunch.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. Every once in a while we eat outside, especially when we need to talk.”

Cara’s eyes were unreadable as she asked me, “Is… everything all right with you two? I mean, I hope nothing is wrong.” I felt mostly curiosity coming from her, even though I found her questions a little odd.

“No, everything’s fine. We just sometimes like to have a little privacy. The lunch table crowd is fun, but it can get a little loud!” I laughed.

“I guess so,” Cara agreed. “But I really like them. Did you know I’m going to the dance Friday with everyone? Dan told me they usually go as a group.”

“I’m so glad,” I told her, and I meant it sincerely. “I hope you have fun.”

“You’ll be there, too, won’t you? You and Michael?”

I smothered a sigh and nodded. “Yes, we’ll be there,” I replied, trying to keep the note of grimness from my voice. “I’m heading for Math. See you later!”

I spent most of my Trig class brooding over what I hadn’t learned from Nell. So I knew she was miffed at Casey. That didn’t help with anything. What was interesting, I realized, was Nell’s reference to Marica. I knew she was thinking of Ms. Lacusta—there weren’t two of that name in a small town like King—but it was the context, the jealousy once again, that struck me. Michael had been right. It was Ms. Lacusta’s attention to me that had enraged Nell this morning, and in History she had been annoyed, remembering that Casey was chatting up the teacher.

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