Pawn (Nightmares Trilogy #1) (4 page)

When I finished, Devon asked, “Ready?
This might hurt.” Without waiting for a response, she pulled the
sliver free in one swift motion. It hurt like hell.

Fresh blood poured free as Devon
hurriedly covered the wound with the dry towel and applied
pressure. I winced as my foot throbbed in her hands.

“Keep the pressure on. I’ll go find
some bandages.”

Once I heard Devon rummaging in the
bathroom cabinets, I chanced removing the towel to examine the cut.
It was deep, the skin around the wound a mottled purple and red and
extremely tender. I prayed that it wouldn’t require stitches. My
mother would never believe that I’d hurt my foot while at the
Westwood movie theater.

After rewrapping the towel, I examined
the sliver Devon had removed. It appeared translucent when I held
it up to the lamp on the bedside table. The color was somewhere
between blue and green, and there was an almost metallic quality to
the smooth surface. I expected the shard to be brittle, but when I
tried to break it between my fingers I couldn’t.

“What
is
that?” Devon’s voice startled me
and I dropped the tweezers.

“No clue,” I said.

Devon retrieved the shard and tweezers
from where they’d landed on the bedside table. She held it close to
the light bulb and leaned down for a better look. “Sort of looks
like a fish scale. You know, from one of those really pretty
tropical fish that you see at the aquarium.”

A fish scale? My stomach flip-flopped.
The lake creature hadn’t had legs, at least not that I’d seen. Was
it possible that she was some sort of…I wouldn’t let myself finish
the thought, it was too absurd. The creature in the water wasn’t
even real, and here I was hypothesizing that I’d encountered a fish
person, a mermaid. And my friends always joked that I was rational
to a fault. If they only knew the thoughts running through my mind
at that very moment! I laughed as I imagined telling Devon that a
mermaid had tried to strangle me.

“What’s so funny?” Devon set the
tweezers down and began wrapping white gauze around my foot. Her
mother was a nurse at Westwood General, and Devon was skilled in
first aid as a result.

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “It’s
probably just a piece of rock or something.”

“Maybe,” Devon said, her brows
knitting together. “It looks a little exotic for Caswell Lake,
though. Normally everything that comes out of there is brown and
smelly.”

Once Devon had swaddled my foot in so
many bandages that it was five times the size of its mate, she
grabbed a pair of pajamas from Elizabeth’s walk-in closet and threw
them to me. I changed into the plaid boxers and blue tee shirt,
neatly folding my own dirty clothing and placing it on the floor
next to the bed. Devon disappeared into the bathroom to wash the
blood from the towels.

Outside the party was in full swing.
My friends’ voices drifted through the open window and shouts of,
“Whose hand is that?” and “Liz, where are more shot glasses?”
filled the room. Part of me longed to join them and put the
encounter in the water as far from my mind as possible. But I was
too tired; my eyelids were barely staying open.

“Take these. They will help with the
headache.” Devon reappeared, holding two white pills on her
outstretched palm. In the other hand she held a fresh damp towel.
“To wash your face,” she explained when I stared at the towel
quizzically.

“Thanks.” I took the pills and
swallowed them dry. Then I scrubbed the dirt streaks on my face and
winced when the terrycloth material moved over the wound on my
right cheek. The red patch I’d seen in the mirror burned and was
hot to the touch. Where had it come from? The lake creature hadn’t
touched my face, but the boy had. His fingers had skimmed my cheek
when he’d brushed the hair back from my face while I was vomiting
lake water. The skin-to-skin contact had produced a shock; the
memory of it caused the muscle under my eye to twitch.

“What’s that from?” Devon asked,
pointing to where I was delicately fingering my cheek.

“Not sure.” I shrugged, the blood
rushing to my cheeks. For some reason I was reluctant to tell her
about the static shock. She’d probably joke it was part of my
strange quirk with electronics.

Devon tilted my chin upwards,
examining my face. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that’s a burn,
an electrical burn. It looks like the patch my dad had on his thumb
after he forgot to turn off the lamp before screwing in a new
bulb.”

I averted my eyes. “I’m sure it’s
nothing,” I muttered.

Devon’s hands fell away and she sat
down next to me. The concern was gone from her expression, replaced
by a mischievous twinkle I knew well.

“So tell me more about your mysterious
new friend,” she said.

Heat rushed to my cheeks again, likely
coloring them to match the burn. “There’s not much to tell.” I
shrugged, uncomfortable talking about him. “My foot got caught on
something in the water. Then I hit my head and blacked out. When I
came to, he was there.”

“And you never thought to ask his
name?” Devon pressed. “I mean, he did save your life.”

Right, and then he burned
me apparently,
I thought.

“And he was a total hottie,” Devon
added when I remained silent.

A picture of his brilliant green eyes
flashed in my mind, and another wave of heat deepened my blush. He
was good-looking, very good-looking. And I had been drawn to him.
Only, even now I could recall the uneasy feelings he stirred up.
There was something…off about him.

“I’m tired, Dev,” I said in response
to her probing.

“Right.” Devon got to her feet. “All
I’m saying is if some hot guy inexplicably appeared in my hour of
need, I would be intrigued. Maybe even look him up
online.”

“That would be kinda hard without his
name,” I pointed out.

“True. But if he was at the lake, then
he probably lives in or around Westwood. Someone we know probably
knows him, too. We could find him. If you want.”

Did I want to find him?

“Think about it.”

Devon stood awkwardly next to the bed,
shifting from one foot to the other. Now that she had said her
piece, she was anxious to join our friends outside.

“Go on outside and join the party. I’m
fine,” I assured her.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind keeping
you company.” The relief in her eyes contradicted her sentiments.
Not that I blamed her. Hanging out with me when she could be
lounging in a hot tub and gossiping with our friends would have
been a drag.

“Positive. I’m going to fall asleep
the moment my head hits the pillow.”

Devon hesitated a moment longer,
indecision flickering in her big blue eyes. “Okay. But I’m leaving
my cell on the bedside table. Call Liz’s phone if you need me.”
There was a soft clatter as she placed the phone on the wooden
surface. “Don’t touch it unless you have to,” she teased. “I can’t
afford to replace it.”

“Very funny,” I grumbled.

I curled up under the comforter as
Devon headed for the door. She flipped the light switch and paused.
“I’m really sorry about the necklace, Eel. There’s still a chance
we’ll find it. And maybe he’ll send another this year.”

I said nothing. We wouldn’t find my
dream catcher necklace. The woods around the lake were dense, and
there was no telling where it fell out. And Devon was wrong. My
father wouldn’t send another one this year. I had six of them, well
five now - one for every birthday from my eighth to my thirteenth.
But he hadn’t sent a single necklace in the time he’d been
away.

“I’m sure he’ll call, if he hasn’t
already. Your phone is dead. He probably left a message,” Devon
continued softly.

A phone call. That was Dad’s birthday
present to me these last five years, and I cherished each and every
minute of those calls just as much as the dream
catchers.

“Anyway, happy birthday,
Endora.”

With that, Devon was gone
and I was alone. Tears burned the backs of my closed lids. With
everything that had happened, my father’s yearly phone call ― or,
rather, lack thereof ― had managed to slip my mind until that
moment. As of the time my friends had snatched me from my bedroom,
there had been no message from him on my phone. I’d called my voice
mail every hour on the hour to check.
Of
all the birthdays to miss, he had to pick my
eighteenth
, I thought wryly.

The room was eerily quiet, and I had
the urge to grab Devon’s phone and tell her to come back. As much
as I wanted to fall asleep and forget about the incident at Caswell
Lake and my absentee father, I didn’t want to be alone.

I started to reach for the cell.
High-pitched giggles drifted up from Elizabeth’s back deck, and I
retracted my hand. My foul mood didn’t need to ruin the rest of the
night for my friends, too. At least someone should enjoy my
birthday.

Two hours later, I was still awake
when a chlorine-scented Elizabeth crawled into bed next to me. I
practiced even breathing so she would think I was asleep. It
worked. Within minutes Elizabeth’s soft snores filled the
bedroom.

The last thing I heard before drifting
off was Devon yelling she needed more Jim Beam.

The dock swayed beneath my
feet. Vertigo swept over me. A full moon cast a hazy glow over his
beautiful features, creating a halo of light around his
golden-chestnut waves. Blue-black water quietly lapped the wooden
support beams, creating a soothing soundtrack for the evening.
Spring was in full bloom; lilac shrubs were sprinkled across the
grass bank behind me. Their fragrance was an intoxicating addition
to the ambiance.

He stood on the end of the
wooden walkway, clad in a tuxedo with a single red rose fastened to
the lapel. He held out a hand in my direction, and I moved forward
to join him.

Silk swished softly as I
walked. The strapless green dress fit me to a tee, the train of
which trailed behind me, gliding effortlessly over the dock. In one
hand I held a pair of gold heels. The wood was rough against the
soles of my bare feet, but I hardly noticed. All that mattered was
reaching him.

He stood still as a
statue, watching my every move with unwavering intensity. As soon
as I was within arm’s reach, his hands darted out, closed around my
waist, and he pulled me against him.

When his lips touched
mine, I didn’t flinch at the spark that passed between us. The kiss
felt right and familiar, like it wasn’t the first we’d shared. I
threw my arms around his neck, thinking we could never be close
enough.

He lifted me off the dock
and spun me around in a circle. I laughed against his mouth,
thrilled by the weightlessness. He released me. Instead of my feet
finding the dock, they were met with nothingness. Suddenly I was
falling much too fast. What felt like a dozen tiny hands grabbed
the hem of my dress, speeding my descent.

Shock overshadowed the
desire to scream or cry out. My eyes found his, silently begging
him to say something, do something. He stood motionless, watching
me fall, his emerald green irises full of pain and
remorse.

My back hit the ice cold
water with jarring force. The hands slid over my entire body like
slippery vines. The more I struggled, the tighter they held on.
Just before my head disappeared under the water’s surface, he
whispered, “I’m sorry.”

I opened my mouth. Fishy
water washed over my tongue and poured down my throat, cutting off
any words I might have said. Icy water and panic engulfed me, but
instead of fighting, I let the blackness take me under.

Chapter Three

Voices, like trumpets,
blared inside my head, screaming at me that
“We were young,”
and to
“Set the world on fire.”
I flailed my arms and bolted upright. My heart was beating
too fast. When I tried to swallow, my throat felt raw, like after
my tonsillectomy in the seventh grade. The room spun, and my head
felt like it weighed more than my neck could hold.

“Make it stop,” Elizabeth’s muffled
voice groaned beside me.

It took me a minute to
clear my head and remember that I was in Elizabeth’s bedroom. As I
took in the familiar walls covered with movie posters and
photographs, my pulse returned to a normal rate, and I almost
laughed at how scared I’d been when I first woke up.
Fun
still played at max
volume from somewhere across the room.

“Make it stop,” Elizabeth repeated,
burying her face deeper into her feather pillow.

I fumbled with the heavy drapes
surrounding her bed, tumbling to the floor with a thud when I
finally found an opening. My feet sunk into the plush carpeting as
I limped toward the noise. My foot ached, and the bandages were
stiff with dried blood.

“Practice,” I called to Elizabeth, who
still lay moaning in her bed.

“Let’s skip,” came her muffled
reply.

“I can’t,” I said, already heading to
her closet to scrounge up workout clothes. “Remember, I’m the
captain.”