Lost (17 page)

His phone broke his concentration on the sky. “Yeah?” He chuckled. “I’m sorry, man. You know I’m the worst liar of all time. Why would you trust me with the details of your anniversary?” He laughed harder and caught his breath. “Well now she sort of suspects something. I told her I – uh – was just having a show at Murphy’s.” He smiled, listening to his friend who obviously had him helping with a surprise for his wife. Adorable. “I guess I’ll have to sing now.” He laughed. “Three songs max. See you at seven.”

“Are you getting dressed?” Sophia yelled
,
her footsteps grew louder as she neared the door.

I scrambled to hide the mirror, and Dad started humming loudly. “Turn off, turn off. Um … presto!” I said, snapping uselessly, trying to find a command to shut off the magic. “Mirror, off.”

I didn’t know if the last command had done it or if shaking it was the key. Either way, my reflection replaced my father, and I tucked the mirror under a pillow.

“Are you?” she asked.

“I’m about to, Sophia!” My nerves made me yell.

She opened the door and glared at me.

“I don’t want an attitude. Don’t let Lydia rub off on you. I want you to stay my sweet Christine. Now, get dressed before I spank you.”

She left the door open, and I peeled myself away from the bed.

Either Mom or Sophia had packed some of my fancier clothes from my closet, to make a good impression I guessed.

I groaned when Sophia came in to get me. She handed me a purse, as if I didn’t look dressed up enough, and took my hand. We landed in a single
carport,
in the front seat of the typical SUV Mom usually made me travel in. The windows were as dark as the interior, cloaked from the outside world.

She backed out slowly, causing a languid stream of sunlight to fall through the windshield.

“Buckle up, dear," she said as she merged onto the busy street in front of a fancy condo.

"Does my mom live here, too?" I asked.

"Uh, not really. Your mother doesn't really live anywhere. She spends the most time in Paris but rarely sleeps there."

I thought about asking where she slept if she didn't generally sleep in Paris, but I didn't. I had a feeling the answer would bother me, make me sad about her not having a typical home and a typical life.

“I’ll be back for you at four. There’s water in your bag with the potion inside, in case you have any issues controlling your powers.” So I wouldn’t beg her not to make me go to school, I kept my mouth closed on the ride over. In front of the stuffy brick buildings of Trenton College of the Arts, she said, “Try to enjoy
yourself
.”

“As if,” I mumbled.

I took a deep breath as I pushed out of the SUV and into the sweltering L. A. air. Sophia honked the horn and drove away. My memories of school were sad and painful.
Lonely meals, lonelier nights.
I was mute and missing my mother without knowing it. It made me friendless, strange, and deadly.

A skinny guy sped by me on a skateboard and snapped me out of the St. Catalina fog. He hopped up on a rail and crashed to the pavement a second later. No one laughed.

Actually, no one even saw it. Everyone outside seemed to be in
their
own worlds. The closest person to the crash, a girl with dark braids and a cool nose ring, didn’t raise her eyes from her book.

I thought I would spend more time being lost in a new place, but the tour group was obvious. Parents and kids my age huddled around a short, very fashionable blonde.

“Hi, everyone. I’m Elizabeth. I’ll be your guide today. We’re just waiting on one more to get started,” she said, in her squeaky voice. She spotted me walking up and smiled. She checked my name off of a clipboard, knowing who I was without asking. Her unprotected human mind whispered that she recognized me from the news.

Great.

I looked around to size up my future classmates while Elizabeth welcomed us and explained the history of the tall monument behind her. About half of them looked like me, disconnected from the group and completely disinterested in her speech.

The tour dragged painfully from building to building until she brought us to the student art gallery.

I tried to fight the smile, but it was no use. The different styles and types of art excited me and made me want to spend hours in this room. I circled an interesting sculpture, trying to find the end and beginning and make sense of the beautiful lines. But they only kept leading me around and around.

“Tree of Life,” my tour guide said. She pointed at the sculpture. “One of my friends did it. He’s super into philosophy and deep thought. It’s supposed to make you do that.” She snaked her neck, imitating what I was doing a moment ago.

“Oh. Like … life keeps going?” I asked.

“Yeah. You get it.” I smiled with no teeth and walked to the next piece – a giant ball of yarn. “Your tour reservation says Christine.” I looked over my shoulder. I guessed she wasn’t done talking. “Not Leah. You go by that name now?”

Murderous urges aside, I wouldn’t consider myself to be a rude person. But as I listened to Elizabeth’s thoughts about how she wanted a picture with the runaway that caused an international panic attack, I wanted to pretend like she hadn’t spoken and walk very far away.

And the rest of their thoughts were getting louder, annoying me even more.

“No, that’s just my name. My real one.”

A ship made of toothpicks sat in the middle of the huge ball of yarn. It wasn’t as cool or clever as the Tree of Life. Unless I just wasn’t philosophical enough to get the point behind it.

“So … I heard you got an offer for a reality TV show. Is that true?” she asked.

“No.”

She chuckled. “Good. I was hoping it wasn’t. They’re lame.” Liar. She was looking forward to the make-believe show. “So … there’s this thing on campus tonight. The Summer Display. Everyone brings a piece and sets it out. There’s music and food. It would be cool if you came.”

She gave me a hot pink flyer with information about the event she wanted to lure me to … for pictures and more badgering.

“Thanks,” I said.

I tucked the flyer in my bag as she motioned for the group to assemble again. She glanced over to me and smiled. I heard her think
: I should get her to introduce herself. That would be so cool!

No, it wouldn’t. It would be the worst thing ever, actually. For some reason, I couldn’t look away, and she hadn’t stopped staring at me either. I did not want to introduce myself. I wanted to stand in the back and follow the natural urge to enjoy this place that breathed creativity.

I should let her stand in the back and follow the natural urge to enjoy this place that breathes creativity
, she thought, repeating my unspoken words. Her eyes dulled for a moment, seemingly in a trance. My trance.

My heart pounded, and I looked away.

“Okay, guys. Let’s get going,” she said, her voice gaining speed as I released her, I guessed.

The group pushed out of the doors and I downed the water Sophia had packed for this very reason – because my powers were dangerous and unpredictable and I had no idea how much I could actually do.

Its effect was immediate. My hands stopped trembling, my muscles relaxed, and the thoughts in the air reduced to soft whispers.

I stayed as far away from Elizabeth and the rest of the vulnerable humans as she showed us the dance studios.

We took turns peeking through the door of the class that was in session. The students, mostly girls with buns and unnecessary layers of clothing, extended and retracted their legs to muffled classical music.

 
“Okay, guys,”
Elizabeth
said. “The next stop on our tour is
Housing
. Let’s go check out where you will be living.”

That was where I drew the line. I’d rather die than live in another dorm. I checked the time. Forty-five minutes until Sophia would be here. It could be forty-five minutes of torture and ignoring the awful memories a dorm could cause, or forty-five minutes of possibly controlling someone else’s thoughts.

I’d rather not.

I intentionally wandered left as the rest of them went right, escaping the rest of the tour.

I walked and walked until I stumbled upon a bookstore. The scent of fresh coffee engulfed me as soon as I opened the door, along with new minds that were just loud enough to hear, but thankfully soft enough to ignore.

I roamed the aisles, reading the backs of books I knew I didn’t want. My aimless stroll led me to the historical section. Even history was more exciting at art school. I opened a book titled
The Art the War Gave Us
and flipped through the pictures of dark paintings of beasts and sculptures of screaming figures.

Someone cleared
their
throat on the other side of the aisle. I didn’t look up … at first. Then, it happened again. The person poked a hand through the shelf and tapped the book I was holding. His hand was dark and smooth, almost airbrushed to perfection. He was wearing a gold ring with the initials T. R. engraved into it on his index finger.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. I immediately disobeyed that order. I dropped the book, but my feet refused to move. I couldn’t see the person on the other side, but I recognized his deep and terrifying voice from Kamon’s chapel. He’d led the sick greeting, praising that twisted man. His voice sounded like crackling fire. If I had to imagine what the devil sounded like, it would be like him. “I was sent to express my master’s deepest apologies.”

“How did you find me?”

“This generation feels the need to tell everyone about every detail of their day. Especially meeting the famous Leah Grant. You’re all over the Internet right now. I mean you no harm.”

“Yeah, right.”

He chuckled. The bass in his voice made it as terrifying as a scream.

“My master is offering you an opportunity. A home.” I had a home. “A family.” I had a family. “A chance to punish Remi Vaughn for the pain she inflicted on you last night.”
That … I didn’t have, but I wasn’t stupid enough to fall for that.

“I’m not interested.”

“Is that so?” he asked.

I didn’t stick around to answer. I took off running, too panicked to remember where the door was. I turned down an aisle, only to race in the other direction when I came to a dead end. He chuckled in the distance, a terrifying phantom. I felt like a small child, frightened by the boogieman or some other unseen thing. But he wasn’t a monster in a closet, and I wasn’t a helpless child.

I stopped running.

I had my mother’s powers.
Lydia freaking Shaw.
He should be the one running.

I marched towards his laughter, ready to face a hunter dead on. When I made it to the spot I knew I’d heard his menacing laugh floating from, he wasn’t there.

A white envelope sat in the middle of the aisle, alone and purposefully there for me. I looked around for a moment, then inched closer to pick it up.

I cracked the wax seal and pulled out a square of paper, thick like a postcard, fancy like it was from someone who sat on a throne.

Leah, I hope this letter finds you well and healed from the mistake my former pet made. I do not wish you any harm. I have seen the extent of your powers, and I am impressed. I am in awe of what you could become. Unstoppable. Powerful. Feared. Oh … the lives you will take, the blood you will spill. My heart rejoices at the thought of it. The 4
^th
will only be the beginning of your destiny if you join us. There is a place for you here, right next to my throne. We are waiting.

 
–Kamon.

And now I was afraid again, a child again.
So I ran again, right out of the bookstore and into a group of boys playing Hacky Sack in front of the door, oblivious of the dangerous world we lived in. I stepped out of their way and caught my breath.
 
At least the hunter had left without a fight.

This time.

Sophia called a few minutes later, I was still trying to ease myself down from panic over the letter, and I met her in the front of the school. I opened the back door like she’d instructed me to do over the phone. My heart jumped when I saw the passenger. I hadn’t expected to see her.

“How was it?” Mom asked.

I crawled in, gave her a quick hug, and showed her Kamon’s letter.

She slammed her head on her seat as she read it. “Sophia, here is good. We’re not being followed.” Sophia pulled over to the side of the road, a few blocks away from Trenton. I blinked, and we were standing in my dining room. “What happened?” Mom asked.

I told her everything, from stepping out of the SUV to running out of the bookstore, including controlling Elizabeth's thoughts. She inspected me several times, even though I’d told her the hunter hadn’t touched me.

“This is when you lock me in the house, right?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. You will live your life without fear. The hunters are my business, remember?" She kissed my nose, and I nodded. "And I'll show you how to stop yourself from influencing thoughts. You'll be fine."