Rua (Rua, book 1) (7 page)

“I’m hopeful.”

He bounded out to his car in the darkening twilight.

She barely had time to take a breath before her parents pulled in the driveway.

“Hey, sweetie!” Her dad walked in and kissed her cheek, her mom right behind him.

She couldn’t help but smile at her parents. Every week, they dressed up and went out on a date. Her father looked handsome in his charcoal pants and blue button-down. Her mom wore a form-fitting black dress and four inch heels. More than once, Celeste wished she shared some genes with her good-looking parents.

Her mom lifted her head to sniff the air. “It smells weird in here. What is that?”

“Um,” — Celeste paused, debating on whether a truth or lie would be the best — “well, my friend came over and we burned some sage. You know, purification.”

She plunked her clutch down on the counter. “Oh? Which friend? Tink?”

“Yes, him.”

“You know my rule about boys coming over when we’re not home,” her father said.

“He’s gay. Really, really gay.”

“Oh, okay then.”

She sat on the recliner while her parents sat next to each other on the couch. “So, how was your first session?” her mother asked.

“It was fine.”

Her parents exchanged a look. “What do you mean by ‘fine?’” her mom asked.

“Fine, okay, asi-asi, however you want to say it.”

“Oookkkaay,” her mom said. “Message received. You don’t have to talk about it, but we do need to talk about your birthday.”

She tried to hide the panic on her face. She’d been pushing it to the back of her mind, but Tink was right. Something was going to happen. She cleared her throat. “Oh, let’s not make a big hoopla over this one, please?”

“How about dinner with us? Want to invite any friends?” her dad asked.

“Tink?”

“Great. We’d love to meet him. What kind of cake do you want?” her mom asked.

“Um, chocolate with chocolate frosting.”

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She flipped it open and read the text message from Tink.
She said she won’t give it to me, but I can tell she’s lying. She doesn’t have his number! Hah!

She smiled and texted back.
Kay, guess we’ll talk to him tomorrow.

***

After she ate the leftovers her parents brought home, Celeste went to her room. She immediately turned off all the lights and changed into her pajamas. She needed to get a head start on sleeping, since she’d probably be interrupted.

She propped open her window and leaned out. The night air felt good on her arms and, if she squinted, she barely made out the line of salt beneath her window. She examined the trees in her backyard, but saw nothing.

She left the window open and crawled into her bed. She closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself for whatever was to come during the night.

But the next time she opened her eyes, it was daylight and her birthday.

Chapter 7

She grabbed her phone and looked at the time. 9:00 a.m..

Her door squeaked open. “Is that my birthday girl I hear stirring in there?” her mom asked, poking her head in.

Celeste groaned and sank back into her pillows. Her dad pushed the door open, and he and her mother burst into a loud rendition of “Happy Birthday.”

Celeste made faces and pretended to use the pillows to block her ears, but truth be told, they did it every year and it always made her smile.

“Thanks,” she said when they were done.

“Happy birthday, baby!” Her dad put a small blue box tied with a pretty white bow on her comforter. “From me and your mom.”

She shook it next to her ear. “Jewelry?”

“Open it,” her mom said.

She pulled off the small bow and opened the box. Nestled against a cream-colored tiny pillow was a half-moon pendant on an impossibly slender sliver-colored chain. “Oh, pretty!” She pulled it out of the box and held it up to the light.

“You like it?” her dad asked.

“I love it. You know I love silver.” She cupped the pendant against her hand.

“Actually, it’s platinum. Don’t lose it,” her dad said.

“Oh, my gosh!” She got out of bed and squeezed her parents together so she could hug them both. “It’s perfect. Thanks! I love you guys so much.”

As she stood in her room, between her dad’s arm and her mom’s shoulder, she wondered if this would be the last “normal” day of her life.

Her mom stepped out of her embrace. “Are you up, up?”

“Yep.”

“Okay. What do you want for breakfast?” she asked.

“Anything?”

“Anything you want,” she said.

“Coffee with hot chocolate mixed in, waffles, and bacon.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. I don’t even know if we have any hot chocolate,” her mom said, casting a glance in her husband’s direction.

“We do, and it’s her birthday. It’s fine.” He winked at Celeste.

“Fine, fine.” Her mom bustled out of her room, followed quickly by her dad.

After he shut the door behind him, she grabbed her cell phone off her nightstand. She pulled up the latest message from Tink and hit reply.
Holy crap! Your circle worked – nightmare free! Thks!

A moment later, her phone lit up.

Good, hope it holds
, he had texted back.

Come over for b-day? Six?

I’ll be there with bells on,
he texted back.

She put the phone down and headed off to the bathroom for a shower. Today was important, she knew, so she took the extra time to carefully shave her legs and deep condition her hair. Like having shaved legs would actually do her any good, but at least it made her feel nice.

When she was dressed in her usual jeans, tunic, sneaker, and scarf combo, she sat in front of the mirror to add the necklace. It fell nicely against the smooth white of the hollow at the base of her neck. She touched it with her fingers, watching her reflection in the mirror. It was a thoughtful gift from her adoptive parents. They knew her so well.

She pulled out her contact lens case. She had perfect vision, so she didn’t really need them. Her violet eyes in the mirror watched her back. Odd, yes, but they could be pretty.

She stood, contact lens case in hand and threw them in the trash on her way out her door.

***

The afternoon wore on. She watched the clock constantly. She didn’t know exactly what time she was born, so she had no idea when she actually turned seventeen, or what, if anything, would happen when that moment came.

She moved through different parts of the house, making her bed, checking the salt circle, putting on make-up, reading, doing laundry. Anything to keep her mind and hands busy.

She found her dad standing in front of the large living room window, arms crossed.

“Daddy?” She stood next to him, and saw what he saw.

The birds. Even more than before, draped their roof, car, and lawn. Just their house, not their neighbors’.

She looked up at him.

He was shook his head back and forth. “All those birds, no poop. It’s weird.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Birds poop, a lot. We should be covered with their crap. It should be everywhere, but I don’t see any.”

She scanned the sidewalks, the cars, the front porch. There were no tell-tale splashes of white or gray. “I don’t either,” she said. “But really, the fact that they’re here at all is enough weirdness without the no-poop thing.”

“I know.”

She looked up at him again, noticing for the first time the wrinkles forming around his eyes and the tinge of white around his temples. He caught her looking and tried to hide his concern behind a smile, but it was too late. She’d already seen it.

“It’s okay, Daddy. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with me,” she said.

“Why do you say that?”

She pulled her sleeves down on her wrists, intently studying the batik pattern on her sleeves. “I think it’s kind of obvious, since they followed me. And I have bird nightmares.”

He smiled again. “Well, you can’t control the birds’ behavior.”

She shook her head slowly back and forth. “Daddy, if anything were to happen to me, I want you to know that I love you and Mom so much. I’m so glad you chose me. It was the greatest thing in my life. And if something happens, it’s me. I know I’m different.”

He put his arm around her. “Why are you talking like that, Ce Ce? I need —”

She was saved by the doorbell.

“Hands in batter, can’t get it!” Her mom’s voice floated from the kitchen.

“I got it. It’s Tink,” Celeste said.

Her dad patted her arm. “We’ll pick this up later.”

She opened the door. Tink stood there, a little wide-eyed. “Um, Celeste…”

Rylan stepped into view. “He brought me.”

“I so did not. He literally just showed up next to me.” Tink shot a nasty look to Rylan.

Rylan, as usual, was smoking hot packaged in blue jeans, retro sneakers, and bright green eyes. Her heart picked up its pace and warmth flowed into her cheeks.

She tried to be casual. She let one arm drift up the door frame then leaned against it. The pose stretched her shirt around her body’s shape, at least she hoped it did.

“Happy Birthday.” Rylan lifted his chin to the sky and took in the birds around the home. “How long have they been like this?”

“A couple days,” she said. “More today, though.”

He glanced at his watch then stepped very, very close to her. He lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. “We’re running out of time. I need to speak with you alone.”

“Ahem,” Tink said.

She took her arm off the door, stepped back, and saw her father standing behind her. He didn’t look happy.

“Oh, Daddy. This is Rylan, and this is Tink.”

Rylan offered a hand to her dad. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Her dad took his hand and shook it, maybe a little too hard. “Nice to meet you, Rylan.” He looked at Celeste. “I didn’t realize we were having two over.”

“I’m not staying. I just stopped by to wish Celeste a happy birthday. So, um, happy birthday to you.” He finally looked her full on in the face. “Your eyes, um,” — he cleared his throat — “they look nice like that.” He took off down the street, hands buried deep in his pockets.

Tink watched his receding form then turned back to Celeste. “Wow, that was awkward.”

Her dad laughed. He stepped back into the house and opened the door to its full width. “Yes, it was. Please come in, Tink. We’ve heard many wonderful things about you.” He made a sweeping gesture into the house.

“Why, thank you.” Tink stepped into the doorway at the invitation.

Celeste stayed on the stoop, watching Rylan fade into the evening. She fought the urge to run after him. She wasn’t sure if the urge came from her desire to learn what he knew, or to learn what his lips would feel like pressed against hers.

“You coming?” her dad asked from the doorway.

“Yes.” She walked past him into the house, hoping her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. She had no right to think those kinds of thoughts about Rylan.

***

Dinner ended, Tink reluctantly left after charming the crap out of her parents, and she was back in her room by 9:00. It was very dark outside, so she propped up the window to let in the night air.

She changed into the long, black, fluffy nightgown her dad had bought for her in Paris, washed her face, and got into bed.

She toyed with the chain of the necklace around her neck. She thought about taking it off, but she was too lazy to get out of bed. Instead, she thought of her rather ordinary, non-eventful birthday.
Maybe it’s over. Maybe the ring of salt did the trick.

She let that happy thought slide through her mind over and over until she fell asleep and the world went dark.

She woke a short time later, heart pounding and energy thrumming through her body. She lifted her hands, saw they were shaking then tried to bury them back in the blankets. Her stomach lurched.

She pulled herself to a seated position, looking at her bedside clock. It read 10:03. She felt the truth in her bones. She was now seventeen, and whatever would happen was happening now.

A vibrating sensation started in her toes, then moved up her body. In a matter of frightening seconds, her whole body tingled.

“What’s happening?” Fear settled cold and hard in her belly. She tried to stand, but was overwhelmed by a torrent of sound.

“
Oscail an doras! Oscail an doras!
” Voices surrounded her, filling her head with strange words. Her head ached like it did when she saw Rylan, a drummer inside her head beating its way out. The birds outside grew restless: scratching, clawing, and squawking in the night air. Shadows filled her room, moving and twisting.

She jumped out of bed and backed against the window. The shadows filled in, details forming: clothes, skin, hair. They were people; wispy, dark, gossamer, but actually there in her room. They moved toward her, begging and pleading for something. She didn’t understand their words.

She put her hands in front of her. “Stop! Please!”

As she did, purple light shot out of her hands. The shadows recoiled. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” she cried. She pulled her hands back and turned them palms up. A purple flame pulsed in the palm of each hand, twisting and rolling like fire.

But she didn’t have time to process it. The people in her room were everywhere, some hanging off her ceiling in strange, unnatural ways. They filled the room, stacking on top of each other, occupying the whole space from the floor to the ceiling. Some had strange, ancient-looking clothes on, some had none at all. Some had normal human skin tones, and others did not.

A very short woman with gray skin and bright pink hair grabbed her leg. “Please, open it,” she said. The top of her head came only to Celeste’s mid-thigh.

Celeste screamed. She kicked the creature off her leg.

She heard pounding on the door. “Ce Ce! Open this door! Are you okay?” She barely heard her dad’s voice over the shrieking, warbling creatures.

“Dad! Help!” she screamed.

Two loud thumps on the door. “I can’t get in. It’s jammed! What’s happening?” he yelled through the door.