Hidden (Hidden Series Book One) (12 page)

Read Hidden (Hidden Series Book One) Online

Authors: M. Lathan

Tags: #paranormal romance, #paranormal, #young adult, #witches, #bullying, #shape shifter romance, #psychic abilities, #teen and young adult

BOOK: Hidden (Hidden Series Book One)
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“You really
did
miss out on a treat.
He was shirtless and flaunting his sexy abs,” Remi said. I hummed
awkwardly, like my tongue had deleted what was sure to be something
embarrassing and had only left the sound. Nathan laughed and hummed
too, copying me and making the moment less awkward.

“Did that bother you, Leah? Me talking about
Nathan’s body?”

I smeared jelly on my bread, still void of
words. Then I realized my silence could be interpreted as a yes or
a no.

“It bothered
me
,” he said, before I
could choose which one I wanted it to be.

Remi chuckled, and Nathan hunched his
shoulders like he didn’t get why she was laughing.

“Okay, kids. I’ll leave you alone,” Remi
said. “Don’t forget our lesson at three, hottie. Come without a
shirt.” Remi laughed, jumped from the counter, and left the
kitchen.

“She likes you,” I whispered, completely
downplaying how Remi must feel about him – strong enough to
threaten me.

“I doubt that. This morning, she told me she
hoped I died before three so we didn’t have to have a lesson.” He
twirled his fingers around his temples and crossed his eyes,
calling her crazy. I didn’t laugh or smile. I was the last person
who could criticize someone’s sanity.

“She said … okay, if I tell you something,
will you not mention it?” I asked. He nodded on his way to the
fridge. He held out a can of soda to me, asking me if I wanted it
with his eyes. “Thanks. And … Remi.” I cleared my throat. “She told
me that you’re
hers
.”

“What?! Gross!” I chewed on my lip to stop
myself from smiling and showing how pleased I was that he didn’t
agree with her. “She called me a mutt about fifty times yesterday,
told me I was a jackass to like being a shifter, and suggested that
I should play in traffic. I’m not
her
anything.”

He nodded towards the door with the sodas in
his hand. I grabbed our plates, loving that my friend wasn’t Remi’s
anything, in his mind anyway.

We took our lunch by the pool. I tried not
to watch him as we ate, but that was impossible. He was
unnecessarily beautiful. He could get a girl with his muscles or
how nice he was, but
no
… he had to have a flawless face as
well. Complete overkill.

“Why isn’t your fur black like your hair?” I
asked, when he caught me staring. I’d really been looking at the
sharp lines of his jaw, not thinking about his fur at all.

He mumbled something with his mouth full
that I couldn’t understand, then swallowed.

“At first, I thought it was because of my
skin, but I don’t really know. It’s the first thing that changes
when I shift. I can do it for you … like just change my hair.” My
eyes widened, excited. He smiled and bowed his head. His shoulders
shook slightly and his hair turned as white as Sophia’s. He tousled
his white locks with his hands, looking enchanting and slightly
goofy. I squealed as the white drained from his hair, leaving it
black again, amazed at his magic but still afraid of mine.

“That’s really cool. And that too,” I said,
pointing at his toes. It decided to actually be winter in New
Orleans today, but he was barefoot and not shivering like me.
“You’re not cold?” I asked.

“It has to be snowing for me to be cold.
Blizzard style. That came in handy as a homeless guy.” I huffed and
pouted. I’d thought my life was hard. At least I’d always had a
roof over my head. “Christine, I am going to push you in the pool
if you don’t stop pitying me.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re my friend. I can’t
help that I care about you.” I wanted to push
myself
in
after I realized what I’d said. “I’m sorry. That was so creepy. I
just met you. I have zero social skills.”

He chuckled and snatched the last piece of
PB&J from my plate. He tossed it in his mouth and winked at me.
“Who needs social skills?” I laughed. He really had a way of making
me feel comfortable and normal. “And I care about you too. That’s
why I don’t want you to be sad because of me. No more pity?”

“No more pity,” I agreed.

We sat in silence for a while. It wasn’t
weird. His eyes were on the pool, but his mind seemed to have
floated somewhere else. I was wrapped up in how different lunch was
from a few days ago. I wasn’t alone, wasn’t hiding from Sienna or
crosses. Or suffocating in the silence of the courtyard.

My teeth chattered, and he stood on his bare
feet and reached for my hand. As he pulled me up, I closed my eyes,
allowing myself to enjoy the feel of his warm, soft skin for the
quickest moment. I was tempted to follow him around all day so I
didn’t have to think about the cleansing, but I had work to do and
he had a nap to take.

“Later, Chris.”

“Chris?” I said, halfway up my stairs.

“Just something I’m trying out,” he said,
chuckling.

I smiled big, glad he couldn’t see me. “Okay
… Nate.”

“I like that,” he said, just before I heard
his door close.

His face and my new nickname distracted me
as I did my mandatory schoolwork. Most of what I read during the
four hours would have to be redone tomorrow.

“Tomorrow,” I whispered with hope. I wrapped
my arms around my stomach, feeling the dull ache in my muscles that
had always been there, a pain I’d thought I deserved to have, a
trait I’d thought I couldn’t change. “Things will be easier. I’ll
live in the light with my friend.”

I didn’t know why I was shivering. It was
only words over candles, a pledge to be better. Like the millions
of prayers I’d sent up to heaven. But I wanted to do something
more, in case magic was out of His jurisdiction.

The only kink in my plan would be if Sophia
popped in and tried to convince me that I didn’t need to cleanse.
So I called her so I’d know when to expect her home.

The phone rang three times then noise cut in
from the other end – laughing and music.

“Hey. It’s Paul,” he said.

“Oh. Is Sophia here?”

The music flared in my ear, so loud I
should’ve heard it from my room. “Uh … no. We’re at my parents’
house. My brother is having a thing. Hold on, I’ll get Nana for
you.” Paul must have walked through a crowd. He stopped and greeted
several people who thought he should cut his hair. Then I heard
Sophia’s laugh, a graceful sound despite the phlegm, and what
sounded like something sizzling on a stove. “Phone. It’s the only
number you told me to answer.”

The only number she wanted to answer was
mine? Strange.

“Hello, dear-heart,” she sang, the phone
ruffling against something, maybe her head.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I thought you
were at work,” I said.

“No, love. My grandson made partner and he
asked me to make his celebratory dinner.”

I waited until the laughter died down in the
background to speak. “Partner?”

“At his firm. He’s a lawyer.” A wizard
lawyer? God did I have the wrong idea about life. Someone snatched
Sophia’s attention from me. She instructed them on how to measure
the perfect rice to water ratio with the lines on their finger.
“Sweetheart, you there?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to know when you were
coming home. No rush.”

Please, don’t rush.

“I’ll be there soon. I’m only starting the
meal and his mother can finish. I would have invited you, but ...
you understand, don’t you?” I um-hummed, completely understanding.
A family gathering wasn’t the best place for her kidnapping victim.
“I’ll be there to make you dinner. I was thinking meatloaf.”

“You’re missing the party?”

One of her daughters yelled, “Mom, Dad wants
a cupcake.”

“Tell him the cupcakes just – sweetie, one
moment – Amelia, tell him the cupcakes just came out of the oven,
and he’ll have to wait. Sweetie, still there?”

Before I could answer, Amelia asked her
another string of questions. It seemed liked her husband was back
from being “away” like she’d told me. Maybe I’d be meeting him
soon.

“That must be Emma,” her daughter, or
another woman demanding her attention, said. “You have on your Emma
voice.”

“Emma is here, Amelia. This is another of my
friends. Paul! Paul! Go find where Emma’s hiding. See if she’s in a
better mood.” And that was my cue. The house was empty of at least
the three of them and could be for a while. And the hair on my arms
rested flat against my skin.

“Sophia, I can get my own dinner. I’ll eat
and go right to bed anyway. Please stay there. Will you? I don’t
want to pull you away from your family.”

It wasn’t a total lie. It took another
minute and some really convincing yawns to persuade her to stay at
the party. Which shouldn’t have been a hard decision, considering
it was for her grandson and she’d only met me a few days ago.

Did giving her ten thousand dollars make me
the queen of the universe? Or was Sophia just nice? Maybe she just
liked me. But
I
didn’t like me very much, and I was about to
fix that.

I checked the locks on my door and filled my
arms with the ten candles by my bed.

I placed them in a circle on the wood floor
in the sitting room. I sat in the center like Emma had. I didn’t
bother looking for matches or trying a spell. I imagined fire
moving around me, igniting the wicks, and it did. It swirled around
the circle, catching on each candle, before fizzling out.

“Um … I want to take the darkness from my
heart and pledge to live in the light,” I whispered, feeling
odd.

I held my hands over the two closest
candles, close enough to feel the warmth of the flame. I imagined
Emma had thought about what she’d done to the hunter at this point,
so I dredged up my sins to confess them, starting with the worst of
them.

“I want to be cleansed for every time I’ve
wanted to kill Sienna Martin. Burn her hair, break her bones.
Whitney too.” I paused, thinking of a particularly shameful one.
“The time I wanted to possess Whitney and have her stab Sienna for
me.” My lips trembled, thinking of a darker moment. “When I wanted
to barricade the gym with all the students inside and hear them
being tortured.”

I ran through as many evil desires as I
could remember. Minor ones. Dramatic ones. Ones directed at one
person. Ones intended for mass destruction. Ones intended for
myself.

When I found myself apologizing for things
so minor I wouldn’t be too embarrassed to say out loud, I waited
for the candles to shut off. To tell me I’d been heard. To tell me
the darkness was gone.

Nothing happened. Minutes passed, and I was
still sitting in the middle of a lit circle after confessing every
stain I had on the soul I’d just learned about.

Maybe it was too much to be forgiven for.
Maybe I was doing it wrong. Or maybe it required my blood like I’d
seen this morning.

I didn’t want to move and disturb the
circle, so I opened my hand in front of me and said, “Knife.” A
small one, identical to the one I’d used to chop vegetables for the
soup, appeared as easily as fire did.

I pressed it against my thumb. It burned,
not just across my skin, everywhere. In my chest the most.

The blood dripped from the wound, warm with
magic. My heart stammered in the dead silence of the room, and the
stream hit the fire.

Nothing happened. Orange light just
flickered on the cream candle as drops of red pooled around the
wick.

Where was the purple mist? Where was the
magic?

I forgot about the cleansing then. Fire was
the ultimate test of magical blood. I’d seen it with my own eyes.
Emma’s blood had flooded her circle with purple smoke that sung of
what she was. What
we
were.

But my blood … did nothing.

The knife shook in my hand as I cut into my
middle finger, deeper this time. The blood rushed out fast and
thick as I prayed for it to change the fire. Praying to be what I
knew I was. What I’d
thought
I was.

Still nothing. No magic. I tried every
candle in the circle, filling in the spaces with my blood, like a
twisted game of connect the dots.

“What the-”

Knocks on my door startled me and cut me
off.

“Chris,” Nathan said. “It’s me.” I just sat
there with my bleeding hand leaking on the floor. “Uh … I can come
back if you’re busy. I probably should’ve called first.”

His tone struck me. He sounded wounded, like
little Nathan would’ve in the house with his parents. His first
friend should never make him feel that way. Unwanted, like a
pest.

“Wait,” I said. “It’s um…” I looked at the
gory scene around me, unable to find the words to describe it.

“Are you okay? Let me in.” I blew out the
candles, like that was the only weird thing happening in the
room.

I opened the door. I didn’t feel the knife
in my hand until his eyes moved from mine to it. And my blood, my
wrong, confusing blood, dripped from the knob and splattered all
over the floor.

“Jesus! Are you okay?”

I just stood there, staring at my friend,
feeling him slip away as he saw how insane I was. How would I say
goodbye to him? With words? A bloody hug?

He stepped into my room and closed the door
behind him. He looked over my shoulder and groaned.

“Chris, can I have the knife please?” He
didn’t wait for me to answer. He slipped the knife out of my hand
without taking his eyes from mine. “Thank you. Is your bathroom
through there?” he asked, pointing to the arched doorway.

I nodded, and he took my healthy hand and
walked me there. He sniffed the soap on the counter and shook his
head. He did the same to the bars by the tub and in the shower as I
bled into the sink.

“This one will sting the least,” he said,
holding up the white bar from the tub. I winced when the water hit
the cuts. He did too, holding my hands like they were fragile.
Looking at me like
I
was too. He lathered both of my hands,
blood still gushing from the second cut. “I’m going to have to
squeeze this one.”

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