Mind Games: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 6) (7 page)

“Good thing I showered last night,” I said, grabbing the clothes I’d laid out the night before and hustling into the bathroom. I sniffed at myself anyway. I didn’t think I smelled. And what was the rule? If you can’t smell yourself, you’re probably okay? Or was it if you can smell yourself, you’re probably not okay? Well, either way, I’d put on some extra deodorant. That is if my dad hadn’t stolen it again. Just because it was strong enough for him doesn’t mean it wasn’t made for me.

I shook my head, still trying hard to dismiss the memory of him using my deodorant as I put it on. Evidently, he’d tried to steal mom’s deodorant, and she’d threatened to stab him in the eye with a fork. I was the less hostile one, it seemed.

A second later, I’d pulled on my tan slacks and buttoned on a white dress shirt. I pulled on my lime green cardigan as I made my way into the hallway. Mom was already standing by the door, tapping her foot in annoyance.

“Finally,” she said, offering me something that vaguely resembled a blue-speckled corn dog. “Here.”

I eyed it carefully. “Is that food?”

“Yes.” She took a bite off the top before jabbing it at me. “That’s your being annoying to mom tax,” she added around a mouthful.

“Okay,” I said, accepting the half-eaten corn dog, and as I stared at it, I got the impression she was waiting for me to take a bite. I complied. It was delicious. I took another. The magic corn dog was gone and its loss filled me with sadness as I stepped out onto the porch and locked the door. My mother was already opening her car door.

“How was your breakfast?” she asked, sliding into her seat as I approached.

“Okay. It was only about two thirds satisfying.” I eyed her with mock annoyance as I got into the car and buckled myself in.

“Well, next time don’t be a brat,” she said, reversing out of the driveway. “And maybe you won’t have to fear the mother tax. Although I make no guarantees where sausages on a stick wrapped in blueberry pancakes are concerned.”

I harrumphed and looked out the window. She had won this round, but I wasn’t about to let her know that. Instead, I watched the street passing by in a blur of color. It was weird because it seemed to be going by really fast, but when I glanced at the speedometer, it made me think we weren’t going very fast even though I couldn’t quite make sense of the numbers.

“Remember, honey, tonight is family dinner night,” my mother said, and I turned toward her, expecting her to be looking at me, but she was staring out the windshield, watching the road like she was supposed to be.

“We have a family dinner night?” I asked, arching one eyebrow.

“Yes, your father and I talked about it. We’re going to have a special family dinner night. We’re going to have pizza tonight.” She smiled, but still didn’t look at me. “I bought all the stuff so we can each make our own pizzas.”

I tried to say something, but instead my mouth salivated, which was probably due to a combination of my stomach not being satisfied by the breakfast corn dog and my secret weakness for all things covered in cheese and pepperoni.

“We’re here,” my mom said a second later, and I realized we were parked in front of the school again. “Have a good day, Lillim. I love you.”

“I love you too.” I leaned over and wrapped her in my arms and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m glad we get to spend this time together,” I added, hoping not for the first time, that she was real and everything else was fake. Because if it wasn’t real, and I figured out how to oust the thing using my body like a puppet, I was never going to see her again. The thought hurt more than I thought it would as I turned and got out of the car.

I stood there, watching her drive off until she disappeared from view. I spun on my heel just as the first bell rang. Charlie was approaching. Instead of waving to him, or even acknowledging his presence, I ducked behind a large eucalyptus tree, took a deep breath, and darted to the far side of the schoolyard.

By the time I reached my math class and threw myself into my seat, my chest was heaving from exertion. Ian sat a few seats away, staring straight ahead, a puzzled expression on his face. His hair looked like it had in my dream. He must have seen me staring at him because he glanced in my direction, and instead of hiding my gaze and looking away sheepishly, I kept staring. Why not? If this was all a made up world, what did it matter?

He nodded to me and looked away. A moment later, he glanced back at me again. When he saw me still looking at him, his lips quirked into a grimace. I smiled sweetly at him. His face hardened into a mask as his ice blue eyes searched my face. Then he turned pointedly away from me and stared straight ahead as our professor approached the front of the room.

Only he wasn’t the same guy from yesterday. No, this was the milk-white male from the baseball game last night. He was wearing a black and red checkered dress shirt and slacks. He rubbed his bald head with one boney hand and smiled out at the classroom.

“Hello,” he boomed, and the sound of his voice stirred something deep inside me. The image of a huge reptile shifting very slightly in its slumber filled my brain as I stared ahead. “I’ll be your substitute for the day.” He spun on his heel and wrote something across the board I couldn’t make out. It all seemed like gibberish. Why was I having so much trouble reading lately?

I blinked, rubbing my eyes with my fists. The words on the board still made no sense at all, and the harder I stared at them, the more confused I became. What in the hell was going on?

“Lillim!” our new teacher said, startling me out of my confusion. I looked over at him, still blinking as he stared right at me. “Can you come up here please?” he asked and something about the way he said the words made a chill run down my spine. What did he want?

“Um, okay,” I replied, slowly getting to my feet as the entire class turned and looked at me. My cheeks heated up as I wove through the desks, found my way to the front, and approached the substitute.

He leaned over me, placing one thin hand on the desk blocking us from the rest of the class. “We don’t have a lot of time, Lillim. Not before Jormungand realizes what I’m doing,” he hissed, and his breath smelled vaguely of snake.

I tried to take a step back, but my wrists started to ache, burning like they were on fire as he looked into my eyes. His own were like the sucking void of the abyss. A shudder ran through me as I stared into the nothingness within, trying to keep myself from being pulled inside. Something told me if that happened, I wouldn’t be coming back out again.

“Wha-what are you?” I squeaked like a mouse caught in a cobra’s gaze.

He said something, but it came out garbled, and he sighed in exasperation. Annoyance crossed his face as he looked around. “I can’t tell you, but you can remember. If you do, call upon me, and I will come. I will cross the entirety of the world to help you. You must remember who I am. If you do, you can be free.”

Strangely, I actually believed him. I couldn’t tell you why, but something about him felt more real, more solid than most of the other people I’d seen or heard.

“How can you help me?” I asked, and as I said the words, the shrill cry of the fire alarm shattered my hearing. I turned toward the sound, my ears throbbing as the substitute grunted next to me.

I spun back toward him, but he was gone. I stared at the spot he’d occupied only a second before, flabbergasted. Where had he gone? Before I could look further, someone grabbed my arm, and tugged me out from behind the teacher’s desk.

Ian had me by the bicep, a strange look on his face as he moved us toward the exit, his hands ice cold and viselike. I had half a mind to try to resist as he pulled me through the crowd of students trying to get through the door, but this was my chance to ask him some questions. If only I knew what those questions were.

He leaned his head close to my ear. “Why were you staring at me?” he whispered, and his voice was like the wind heralding a winter storm.

“I had a dream about you,” I replied before I could help it.

He stared at me for a long time, various thoughts running through his brain, and though I didn’t know why, I got the impression none of them were, “this girl is nuts.”

“Okay,” he said, pulling me through the throng of people and jerking me out of the tide of bodies heading out toward the black top. Already lines were starting to form in the parking lot, presumably to make sure everyone actually showed up. I had the sudden, near-overwhelming urge to join them but fought it off. Something strange was going on, only I wasn’t quite sure what it was.

“You don’t think it’s weird that I dreamt about you?” I asked, and he stared at me for a long time before answering.

“I dreamt about you too. I just didn’t know it was you.” He waved one hand at me. “You’re dressed a lot more conservatively now.” He said it totally deadpan, and though his eyes didn’t leave my face, I had the sudden urge to cover myself.

“I was wearing snakeskin, wasn’t I?” I asked, my cheeks aflame.

“Yes. You spoke, and I couldn’t do anything under the force of your gaze.” He glared at me for a moment. “Something is wrong. I keep doing things and finding myself in random places. It’s like home, but it isn’t.”

“I know the feeling.” I nodded to him as I glanced down at all the little people in their orderly little rows. Only they were a little too neat. “They were calling you Famine. Do you know why?”

“No,” he replied. “But I’ve got a feeling it isn’t good.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his teeth. “Did you see the teacher vanish?”

“No. I just turned around and he was gone,” I said as he followed my gaze down to all the kids lined up below.

“And no one thought it was weird. They just raced downstairs to line up when the alarm sounded.” He shook his head. “Even drilled firefighters aren’t as efficient as those kids were. It was like watching ants under the control of a queen.”

“So why are you different?” I asked, and he turned toward me.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, brushing his blond hair out of his face. “See, here’s the thing. I have friends I’ve known for years, and when I talk to them, it’s like talking to someone who isn’t my friend. Oh, they look like my friends and speak like them, but I can tell.”

“I know the feeling. My dad let me drink a hard lemonade and didn’t even say a word about it,” I said, and Ian smiled at me, his lips cracking into the barest flash of teeth.

He looked like he was about to reply but instead, pressed something into my hand and started walking away from me. I looked up to see Charlie coming toward us, a strange look of determination on his face. I waved to Charlie. He waved back somewhat disjointedly as Ian moved past him and our classroom without so much as another word. I guess he was ditching.

Charlie didn’t even look at Ian as he came up to me, which struck me as a little odd, although I didn’t know why. Still, Ian had a point. Charlie was acting weird, and while I didn’t know him in this world as well as I did in the world of the Dioscuri, his actions seemed strange even held against the barometer of a normal teenaged boy.

“I missed you in the line,” Charlie said, his voice full of semi-genuine concern. Behind him, I could see other students coming, filing into their classrooms like the dutiful automations they seemed to be. The sight of it made me shiver. Something was definitely off.

“Yeah, I got distracted by all the stairs and wasn’t sure where to go. I asked that boy for help,” I pointed at Ian, “but he was just a jerk and blew me off.”

Charlie seemed to relax at my words. He swept his arm around my waist and pulled me forward. “Well, I’ll keep you safe, don’t you worry your little head.”

I put my forehead against his shoulder, using the movement to shield myself from his prying eyes. “What would I do without you?” I replied, stealing a glance into my hand. I was holding a piece of ice in the shape of a butterfly. The creature’s wings twitched in the palm of my hand as it got to its feet and fluttered away.

Chapter 9

The rest of the day raced by in a blur of color and sound I couldn’t quite remember or keep track of effectively. Whether that was because time was disjointed or because I was crazy and distracted by the frozen butterfly remained to be seen. Hell, for all I knew, my mind had made up the butterfly and even the whole encounter. That was the problem with potentially being insane. This
could
be real and everything, no matter how crazy, could just be my brain processing things incorrectly. But still…

Something was wrong. I knew it to be true, knew it with the core of my being, but as I tried to figure it out, I found myself unable to clear the fog from my brain. It was like having the answer on the tip of my tongue but being incapable of actually remembering what I wanted to say.

I paced back and forth in front of my high school, waiting for my mom. She hadn’t arrived, but I honestly wasn’t sure if I wanted to see her. I had half a mind to try to run away, just to figure out what was going on, but it seemed like a poor idea. If this was all fake, and I was growing more and more sure of it by the moment, I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.

It didn’t make sense because she was probably an illusion perpetrated by the world, but well, I’m not sure how to explain it. My mom was dead, at least I was pretty sure she was dead, but seeing her alive and well made it easy to forget. Which was probably why she was here. As long as I kept second guessing myself, kept wanting this world to be real, whatever was controlling me would keep its slimy grip on my body. I knew this, and yet, I wasn’t sure I was ready to return to a world where she was dead and gone.

That said nothing of the actions of the mysterious white man who kept appearing. I had half a mind to write him off as a weird delusion, but Ian had seen him too. I shook my head in frustration. Ian could be made up as well. Maybe everything was made up?

What I needed to do was find Ian and have a more pointed conversation with him. Yeah, that was exactly what I needed to do. Well, that and remember what the man’s name was. You know, assuming he wasn’t a delusion caused by my broken brain. It was enough to make me wish I had some kind of litmus test for reality. The problem with that was any litmus test would be bogus if something was trying to make me think I was crazy. It could just manipulate the data as it saw fit.