Cave of Terror (11 page)

Larry stuck his head around the corner. “Cheyenne, let's go. You have work to do.” He motioned toward the gym and gave a scalding look to whatever-his-name was. “Now."

"I gotta go.” I turned to follow Larry before I got into a mess of trouble.

"Sparkie,” he called.

I swung around. “What?"

"Ryan. My name is Ryan."

So he does have a name. “Bye ... Ryan,” I mumbled.

Larry waited for me just inside the gym. “Who's that guy? And what's with Sparkie?” he inquired in his substitute father like manner, his face showing disapproval.

"Nobody and nothing."

He peered at me over the top of his glasses. “I see."

Oh yeah, like I planned to tell him about Ryan. I'd never hear the end of it. It would be pure suicide on my part. The last gymnast that made the mistake of telling Larry about her boyfriend still regretted it.

And more regrets I didn't need.

I resisted the urge to glance back at the observation area to see if Ryan still remained in the gym, but I knew he had to be near. The strange connection we shared buzzed through me like small static shocks. Not to mention the occasional bursts of his unique scent that wafted by me.

But then, a sudden emptiness rocked me, sucking the breath from my lungs. I sensed he'd left. When we rotated to bars, I couldn't help but take a peek.

He
was
gone.

Relieved and disappointed at the same time, I couldn't help but wonder how could a guy I barely knew could have such an effect on me. It just didn't make sense. I had no time for boys and all the silliness connected with them. I refused to turn to the dark side and become one of those giggly, hair tossing, boy-crazy girls. Ugh! I didn't need the extra complication in my already highly complicated life.

"Get your grips on, ladies. Let's go. We have lots of work to do,” Larry said.

I shut my locker and scowled. “Crap. I forgot my wrist bands. My mom washed them yesterday, and I left them on top of the dryer."

"Here.” Mandy tossed me a pair. “You owe me big."

"Yeah, yeah."

Bars proved to be a bit of a challenge. I either fell on my butt doing my double or peeled off the bars during my giants. No one else seemed to be having the same problem, so I couldn't blame it on slippery bars or mushy mats. My concentration severely lacked.

Ever since Ryan had left, the initial emptiness had been replaced with an icky sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. As the rotation wore on, I became increasingly more uncomfortable. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, rippling tingles down my spine.

Someone or something watched me.

But whom or what, I didn't know. I couldn't concentrate on my assignment. All my attention centered on the threat at hand.

"Having a bad day, Cheyenne?” Mandy shook her head in disbelief. “I haven't seen you this out of it in a long time. That guy sure has you going loopy."

"I guess you could say I've been distracted.” I glanced around the gym.

Mandy laughed. “He already left. About thirty minutes ago."

"I wasn't looking for him. And him has a name. It's Ryan.” I couldn't help but soften my voice when I said his name.

"If you weren't looking for
Ryan
, then who were you looking for?"

"No one."

"Ladies, if y'all are through with your conversation, do you think you can get back on the bars?” Larry's chin rested on his thumb while the rest of his fingers curled in front of his upper lip—never a good sign.

Since it was my turn, I reached out and swung on the low bar. In the middle of a kip, my grips slipped and I dropped off the bar.

Turning to Mandy, I said, “Go ahead and go. I need more chalk."

I walked to the bucket, sprayed my grips, and then rubbed a hunk of chalk on them. When I dropped it back into the bucket, I noticed words had been traced into the white powder.

YOU ARE MINE

Omigod! Was that meant for me?

Suddenly, a nauseating aroma of almonds surrounded me. I jerked my head around.

As if in slow motion, I watched Mandy reach for the high bar. Just as her hands wrapped around it, the bar broke, snapping the cables and collapsing the equipment on top of her.

Unable to do anything since it happened so fast, I stood there in shock, deep sinister laughter surrounding me.

Mandy screamed as part of the bar hit her head, the other smashing her thigh.

Adrenaline burst through me. I ran to her and knelt beside her. Larry and a few of the girls helped move the equipment off of her.

"Mandy, are you okay?” Her eyes were closed, her breath shallow. “Open your eyes,” I pleaded.

No response.

Larry knelt on the other side of Mandy. I held my breath as he checked her over. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. She started to rise, but Larry pinned her down.

"Don't move,” he ordered. “We need to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine."

"Let me be the judge of that.” Larry finished checking her over, making sure her pupils weren't dilated or that anything seemed to be broken or out of place. “I think you're done for today. I'll call your mom to come and get you."

"I can take her. We drove together. Besides, my car is at her house anyway,” I interrupted.

Larry paused, staring at me for a moment. “Okay, but you better come in tomorrow prepared to work. I didn't like what I saw today. This coming season isn't going to be like last year. You're going to have to actually work."

I sighed. “I will."

After I slipped on my pajama pants over my leo and pulled on my hoodie, I slid my arms back through the sleeves and slipped the shoulders of my leo off. I rolled it down to my hips and put my arms back through the hoodie—a Flashdance kind of move. Leos are so uncomfortable. I helped Mandy up, and we gathered our stuff to leave.

"I don't get it. These are brand new cables and the bars were in fine shape yesterday,” Larry said as he studied the mess of bars and cables scattered on the floor.

That's because it wasn't an accident.

As we headed out of the gym, creepy laughter followed, reminding me of the hidden danger and how it could've severely injured Mandy, or even ended her life. The accident had been meant for me, not her.

I posed a danger to everyone around me.

The stakes had just gotten higher. I had to do something. What, I didn't know. Wasn't I supposed to be some kind of hunter of ... evil? The entity following me would most definitely fit into the evil category. I didn't need any special abilities to figure that one out, although no one else noticed but me.

Why didn't I know what to do? Maybe the ancients figured wrong, and I wasn't really a
Vanator
. I mean, I couldn't even protect my best friend.

No longer would I be able to pretend that everything hadn't changed. No burying my head in the sand, hoping my new life wouldn't collide with my old. My destiny had been sealed a long time ago, whether I liked it or not.

My two biggest concerns used to be making good grades, so I could get into a good college and working hard in the gym, so I could make it to Nationals and maybe get a scholarship. Now, I had to deal with life and death issues. Kind of puts things in perspective. A perspective I shouldn't have to deal with until I was much older. So much for enjoying my youth. Life for me would never be the same—a reality I had to accept.

"Give me your keys.” I extended my hand toward Mandy.

"I'm fine. I can drive."

"No, I'll drive. You got a pretty good bump on your head.” I curled my fingers toward myself, motioning for her to hand me the keys.

She rolled her eyes and dropped them into my palm. “You're such a pain."

"I know and that's why you love me."

After helping Mandy into the car along with all her crap, I walked around to the driver's side. Bam! A suffocating presence surrounded me. Before I could react, I was knocked to the ground, my face shoved to the asphalt.

"I told you I could have you whenever I wanted. Too bad your little friend got in the way,” the male voice snarled.

He hooked his thumb under the leo, jerking down my pants and baring the upper part of my butt. Adrenaline burst through my veins as I frantically fought back. The unknown intentions of my attacker sent me into a full out panic.

On my lower back near my right hip, two sharp objects plunged into my flesh, radiating pain through the area. Then, something warm and wet slid across my skin.

All at once, the entity evaporated, leaving me shaking and completely freaked out.

"Cheyenne, what are you doing?” Mandy's muffled voice reached me from inside the car, throwing me back into reality.

I pulled myself up off the ground and adjusted my clothes. With a shaking hand, I opened the car door.

"I dropped the keys under the car and couldn't find them,” I said, trying to hide the quiver in my voice.

"And you think you should be the one driving? You can't even hold onto the keys."

Or protect a friend. Or know how to be the ‘hunter’ I was supposed to be. “Yeah, right,” I mumbled.

As I slid behind the wheel, I cringed. The area above my right butt cheek still stung.

"What was that face for? The bars didn't land on
you
.” She raised her hand and flipped it over palm up in a questioning manner. “Let me guess ... it's sympathy pain."

"Ha ha. I'm a little sore from straddling the beam, thank you."

I turned on the radio, hoping the conversation would end for a while. After everything that had happened, I needed time to think.

One major thing had me more than just a little bothered, besides the obvious. Ryan kept appearing at the same places where all the strange events had happened. Was it a coincidence? Or did he have more to do with things than I wanted to believe?

Whenever near him, I felt some sort of powerful and unexplainable bond—not danger. Not like the horrid feelings I sensed when I had been attacked. If this thing really had the power it claimed, could it turn emotions on and off, confusing my ability to perceive what's evil and what's not?

And if he didn't have anything to do with the evil surrounding me, what exactly connected him with Val? Obviously, he knew her and her cronies. I've always heard and believed that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. But I really wanted to believe Ryan was for real and really that good.

"How's your head?” I asked.

"Hurts like hell. And the knot really throbs."

"Yeah, I bet it does."

My head throbbed, too, but for another reason.

Once we got to Mandy's house, I left right away. I couldn't wait to get home and leave the awful day behind me. A nice long bubble bath sounded perfect.

I pulled into the crowded driveway. Crap. My Calgon moment would have to wait.

Silence deadened the house, putting me on edge. Where was everyone? I dropped my backpack and gym bag next to the stairs. Muffled voices came from the direction of Dad's office. I crept toward the closed door and pressed my ear to it. The door jerked open and I staggered into the room.

"You're home early,” Dad said, a frown creasing his brow.

Two of the
clice
ancients, Amarande and a woman I had never seen before, stood on the other side of the room studying me.

"Mandy had an accident, so I drove her home."

Mom stepped around Dad. “Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she'll be fine. The bars collapsed on her.” I widened my eyes and silently signaled Mom and Dad to let them know there was more to the story without making the ancients suspicious. “She got a bump on the head and she'll have some bruises, but she's fine."

Mom scrunched her face, but didn't say anything. Dad totally missed my signal all together.

Not knowing who to trust, I decided to feel out my surroundings to make sure whatever had been stalking me no longer tagged along. Even my house was apparently not off limits. Home should be a safe haven, a place of comfort and belonging—not a place where danger infiltrates at will. But after the last meeting with the
clice
, I knew that wasn't the case. Like the entity bragged, it could reach me any place and at any time.

I shuddered and drew in a deep breath. The memory of the slimy being licking my flesh played through my mind. I wanted to wash its touch from my body, scrub myself until I bled, not stand here wondering what the ancients had in store for me. No good would come out of this rendezvous.

Amarande and the woman approached. I formally greeted him and showed the same respect toward the unknown guest. They bowed in return. Why couldn't we just shake hands or something? I felt ridiculous bowing like royalty.

"Good evening, Cheyenne. I trust all is well with you?” Amarande cocked his head to the side, waiting for an answer. I nodded. “Good.” He turned his hand over and presented the woman. “This is Nicoleta. She's here to help you—mentor you to be exact."

"
Mentor
me?” I asked.

"Yes, Nicoleta mentored our last
Vanator
. She'll be a great help to you. Listen and learn. She knows her business. It could mean the difference between a short or long life for you,” Amarande said with no emotion in his voice whatsoever.

How could he say such a thing—like it was just another bit of information to impart? It was my life he was talking about.

I choked on my own spit and went into a hacking fit. Dad slapped me on the back—not that it had ever helped in the past and it sure didn't help now either. I moved away and raised my hand, unsure if I could take another pounding. Sometimes Dad didn't know his own strength.

Nicoleta turned to Amarande and gave him a scalding look. “A little delicacy please."

Momentary confusion fluttered across his face. After glancing at me, he opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut. Good. At this point, I didn't need any more of his sensitive speeches.

"Cheyenne, come sit, dear.” Nicoleta took me by the arm and led me to the loveseat against the opposite wall from where the others stood. “You must forgive Amarande. He speaks straightforward without thought of how one may perceive his words."