Reckless Revenge: Book Four (Spellbound 4) (3 page)

Not a good sign.

Like a broken record with an unending power source, one thought pounded through my aching head repeatedly:
Dad is gone. Dad is gone. Dad is gone.

My gaze settled on the mirror hanging on the closet door and a surge of darker emotions struck my heart. Snapshots were wedged between the glass and the frame. Tears clouded my vision as I stared at the photos of Dad and me on various camping trips. Sticking our tongues out at the camera on my last birthday. On New Year’s Eve, toasting each other with flutes of sparkling apple cider. I tore my watery gaze from the pictures.

The heartache and grief caused by his death had left a black void within me. A hole so deep that not even Trent’s hot kisses could close it up. A hollowness only one thing could fill:
revenge.

I walked into my second-period class at Redwood High School, avoiding eye contact with the Trendies, who resembled fashion week in NYC. I tried to hide the tattered backpack that banged against my hip as I hurried to my seat. The Trendies were a group of three girls that consisted of the mayor’s daughter, Brittany Witheridge, and Elesha Walker, and their ringleader, Heather Keyes. Brittany’s best friend, Kayla Bishop used to be a Trendy before the police found her mauled body last week. Now it was just the three of them.

Thankfully, my desk was next to this cool girl, Patrice Zurek, who always had a ready smile for everyone.

I dared a glance at the evil trio. Brittany had distinct Asian features: bronze skin with a yellowish undertone, slightly oblique eyes, and long straight hair the color of blackberries. Heather wasn’t very tall compared to Elesha, who had perfect warm brown skin, an almost six-foot frame, and athletic body, sporting a cute pixie haircut. With her chestnut hair pulled back from her angular face, big silver earrings, polo shirt, and short skirt, Heather looked way too stylish for public school. The three girls were huddled together and whispering.

For once, I wasn’t serenaded with “
Freak
” as I removed my textbook and flipped it open. But the Trendies were still murmuring and glancing over at me. Probably critiquing my outfit.

They looked as if they belonged in a Banana Republic commercial. Me? I was sort of a rebel among the über-preppy clones with my edgy style: black hoodie over an oversized tee that hung off one shoulder featuring a sparkly cross graphic, with skinny jeans and my floral Doc Martens boots. I mentally shrugged. I liked making bold fashion choices.

The loudspeaker crackled and Principal Radcliff’s voice emitted from the amp. “Attention please! All students are to report to the gymnasium for an assembly.”

Everyone boisterously stood up and gathered their things. I grabbed my backpack off the floor and followed the others from the classroom. In the corridor, doors banged opened and students meandered toward the gym.

Shuffling along, I drew in a shallow breath. My blood pressure raced. What happened now? Had there been another brutal attack?

Inside the gymnasium, everyone took seats on the bleachers. I spotted my best friend, Ariana Parsons, sitting with her boyfriend, Daniel Ramírez in the fourth row facing the basketball court. Daniel was good-looking, privileged, and the Giant’s star quarterback.

I sat down next to them, dreading what was about to come. Kids crowded onto the benches on either side of us. I scanned the room for Trent, but he seemed to be MIA.

“What’s going on?” Ariana asked, her eyes wide.

“Hell if I know,” I told her. “But whatever’s going on isn’t good.”

A weird prickly sensation, as if I was being watched tickled my skin. As I swiveled in my seat, my dark hair flipped behind me. A pair of violet eyes locked onto mine and a hot flush warmed my skin.

I recognized the mystery hunk. It was Stalker Boy, the older guy who’d crashed my dad’s funeral and verbally assaulted me. And I’d glimpsed him a few other times around town. The question was: what was he doing here now?

Stalker Boy looked about nineteen, but not much older. Maybe he was a transfer student repeating a grade. He had his arms crossed and one leg bent at the knee, his booted heel planted on the wall. His shoulder-length black hair made him resemble an ancient warrior, and his long bangs fell forward to conceal one eye. When he turned his attention to the teachers standing awkwardly near the podium, I took the opportunity to study him. His skin was completely unmarred, with pronounced cheekbones and a strong jawline. He was tall, much taller than me, but I was only 5’6.

Ariana leaned over and whispered, “Do you think there’s been another attack?”

“I’m not sure, but something bad has happened,” I replied.

“Could be another fight,” Daniel said. “I saw three guys brawling outside the gym this morning. I thought they were going to kill each other.”

Stalker Boy glanced my way once more. Damn, he was utterly gorgeous. My breath hitched. We gazed at each other, and a slow smirk spread across his handsome face. I waited for him to look away. And waited. Still he stared.

My heart banged once, twice, then advanced into a painful galloping run. I couldn’t tell if my heart pounded from attraction or fear. Yet, I was also kind of excited to see him again. But I wasn’t scared. No, I was strangely attracted to this guy. Okay, this was getting bizarre even for me. But who could resist a tall, dark-haired hottie with mesmerizing eyes?
Exactly.

Then guilt stabbed my heart. Trent and I were officially back together now, so these unwelcome feelings made me very uncomfortable. Like I was betraying him. And things were just getting good between us. But I hadn’t done anything wrong. Just held this boy’s gaze for a few seconds.

I shifted in my seat, breaking eye contact. Except trying to pretend he wasn’t there was dumb. Pointless. Score one for him. Stalker Boy had won the staring contest.

I peeked at Ariana, who seemed oblivious of the stalkerish hottie. She was squirming in her seat and holding Daniel’s hand. The sun streaming through the upper windows hit Ariana’s flaxen hair, causing a halo affect that framed her delicate face. Her curvy figure was clad in her signature tomboyish style: high-tops, capris, and a baggy, low-cut tee. Her pale complexion—sunlight gave it a shimmering radiance—was in total contrast to my everyday brownness. With my Native American ancestry, I had been blessed with an olive complexion, bronze eyes, and hair the color of night. Yup, she was light to my dark. The happy-go-lucky yang to my seriously gloomy yin.

Someone opened the double doors and my heart caught, hoping to spot Trent. All I spotted were a bunch of guys on the Giants—a reference to the redwood forest—football team strolling inside the gym. My gaze followed the boys over to the first two rows, where the varsity players sat with Daniel’s dad, Coach Ramírez. Solid, broad, and clutching a cane. Coach Ramírez’s craggy face was full of rugged planes and lines. His wife, Regina, was perched beside him on the bench. A petite woman with short sable hair, her face arresting, and her eyes an unusual shade of hazel
.
On the other side of her sat Carter Lampard. Something about him just screamed:
killer!
He glanced up at me with that sinister gold stare and I frowned, making him creepily smile.

A tense silence fell over the crowd when the doors swung open again. Principal Radcliff marched into the cavernous room and faced the throng. He wore his gray hair slicked back from his face, and he was dressed an ill-fitting pinstriped suit.

“Attention, please! I have an announcement to make…” He cleared his throat. “There has been another attack on a student. Therefore, Sheriff Boyd has declared a new curfew effective immediately.” Principal Radcliff’s voice rang throughout the noisy room, scaring my heart into a sprint.

The few kids who hadn’t been paying attention before were now.

“All students must be home by nine o’clock each night. Even on the weekends.” Principal Radcliff eyeballed everyone for a minute before continuing. “We also recommend that you walk home in groups of three or more and avoid any shortcuts through the woods. Anyone under the age of eighteen caught after curfew
will
be hauled into the police station and your parents will be called.”

The gym erupted into angry outbursts…except the football players. They sat quietly, staring straight ahead like
Stepford
-teenage-boy-robots. Super weird.

“Can you believe it? Another dog mauling,” Daniel whispered.

“This blows,” Ariana murmured, wiping her palms on the thighs of her pants. “What, are we on house arrest now?”

“Looks like it,” I said.

“After everything that’s gone on in the last six months,” Daniel said, “I guess Principal Radcliff’s finally cracking down.”

“Quiet, please!” The principal yelled and rapped his knuckles against the podium to get our attention.

The noise resonated ominously throughout the high-ceilinged building, and then once again silence descended.

Principal Radcliff clasped his hands together. “This is for your own safety until we catch the rabid dogs roaming the forest.”

Protests echoed bounced around the room.

My shoulder muscles coiled with tension. Ari and I glanced at each other.

Rabid dogs?
Ha!
So far, the “rabid dogs” had killed two people: my dad and Kayla Bishop. A cemetery groundskeeper had recently been murdered too, but not from a lycan attack. No, someone had slit his throat. How all these deaths were connected was beyond me. And why were the football players only bitten and not murdered? It made no sense.

The principal was still speaking, telling everyone again that this was for their own protection.

Whatever.

Having a curfew didn’t really bother me. I was hell-bent on my workouts and training anyway, but it would suck if Trent couldn’t come over. Although, since his father was considered town royalty, he might be able to get away with breaking the rules. And where the hell was he?

My gaze swept the room in search of my boyfriend and I caught sight of Stalker Boy again. His jaw was set and his hard gaze flared like sparklers. With a quick nod in my direction, he pushed off the wall and slipped out a side door.

The odd mysteries in this town were stacking up. I needed to talk to Evans.

“After school I’m gonna stop by Craven Manor, wanna join?” I asked Ariana.

“Positively. I can help with research.”

The doors opened and Trent sauntered into the gym. Damn, the guy had major swagger. Girls gazed at him and sighed. He leaned against the same wall that Stalker Boy had vacated. His wavy hair had been tamed with gel and he seemed even taller and broader than usual in his dark blue V-neck shirt, boot cut jeans, and leather sneakers. As if he could zone in on my location anywhere, Trent inclined his head at me and winked.

After going over several more guidelines, the assembly drew to a close. We were ordered to exit the gymnasium and go to the cafeteria for lunch. Daniel, Ariana, and I made our way over to Trent, who had waited for us and we walked together toward the cafeteria.

Pushing open the heavy double-doors, the four of us proceeded to get into the hot lunch line. After getting our food, we sat next to the windows overlooking the courtyard, which were open today, letting in the warm sweet scented air. Individual dust particles danced in the shafts of sunlight coming through the glass. Unfortunately, the vibe at our table was not a happy one.

Ariana was slumped in her seat, listlessly toying with her fork. Trent was unusually quiet and Daniel seemed spaced-out. The other kids in the lunchroom were hunched together, their expressions downcast and voices animated.

My gaze settled on Brittany, sitting beside the rest of her evil crew. Her face was blotchy and moist, her eyes rimmed with red. Probably still mourning the loss of her best friend. The Trendies had their heads bent together. Every so often, Heather, queen of the school, would run a hand over her ponytail, glance at our table, and whisper to the two other girls. My face heated like a pebble left too long in the sun.

But I wasn’t afraid of them. Compared with the paranormals I had to deal with, these girls were docile teddy bears.

I sighed. Kids had been pointing their fingers at me ever since Sheriff Boyd had called me in to the office and informed me that Kayla Bishop had been attacked in the woods. I had been questioned because I’d had quite a few confrontations with those mean girls over the years.

“What’s up with them?” Dan asked, shaking his chocolate milk at the Trendies.

“The hags from hell?” Ariana said wearily. “Those bitches just love gossip. Ignore them.”

Daniel shrugged and grabbed a fry from his plate. “This sucks. I can’t believe they’re enforcing a stupid nine o’clock curfew.”

“It’s not so bad,” Trent said.

A headache was blooming behind my right eye. I rubbed my temple and completely zoned out, almost forgetting where I was until Trent touched my back. My veggie sandwich stared up at me, untouched. I sipped my diet soda and tried to swallow.

Trent leaned close to my ear. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I said. “You?”

“Never better. Any more lycan sightings over the weekend?” he whispered.

Sighing again, I shook my head. “Thankfully, no.”

I couldn’t help glancing over at the Trendies again. As if sensing my stare, Brittany caught my eye. I dared a smile at her. Heather witnessed the exchange and rolled her eyes, then continued to gossip with her wicked minions.

Carter led a group of varsity football players to a table in the back, carrying trays loaded with carbs. The guy just creeped me out. First off, he had eerie gold-colored eyes. Second, something about his largeness bugged me. And third, those hairy knuckles—
ewww
.

My cell phone buzzed in my hoodie pocket, scaring the life out of me. I groped the phone from my pocket and checked the caller ID. Restricted number. I hit the talk button out of curiosity.

“Hello?”

“We are watching you, bitch,” a gruff male voice said.

My heart slammed into my ribcage. I was about to say something snarky, but the line went dead. The threat pissed me off. I didn’t bother telling my friends about the stupid crank call. They seemed anxious enough.

I eyed the football players suspiciously. Carter Lampard was texting on his phone. He peered over at me and sneered. A twisting sensation struck my gut. Carter stared at me as if he hated me. As if he could tear me to shreds with that one dark glance. He turned away, but my skin prickled, as if he was still staring in my direction. Like at any second he was going to plunge a dagger into my back. Maybe he was hiding something.

Carter had just moved to the very top of my list. Suspect numero uno.