Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (38 page)

I’m running on a hillside, surrounded by the stark and lonely darkness of a moonless night. Milky stars drown the sky, casting a dim silvery glow onto the earth. I’m alone, but I’m being followed. My heart races as I stop and glance back at the sea of strange shadows chasing me. Hooded figures with pale white faces and hands, their eyes glowing red. Men and women, swift, elegant, ethereally beautiful, blood dripping from their fingertips. Cracks ricochet over my head, and a cool breeze sends chills down my bare arms. How many other things are here that I cannot see? I look at my hands, covered in cuts and scrapes, gripping tightly to
History of Kalós
. Protecting it. My shorts and tank top have been replaced with tight jeans, a white T-shirt, and a leather holster with crisscrossing straps attached to my chest. Short blades. Long blades. Wooden stakes. Potions. Things I don’t know how to use. Things I don’t understand.

“Keep moving,” a familiar voice shouts inside my head. Derick. “Don’t let them get the book. We have to keep it safe.”

“Come
on
,” Mark shouts, holding out his hand to me.

Where did he come from?

I quickly peer back at the approaching monsters, then take off running. Up and up. Farther and farther. Sweat covers my forehead. Fear makes me cold. We keep climbing until the hillside is so far below us I realize we’re climbing a mountain, and we were only at the foothills before. Loose rocks crunch under our feet; some even tumble behind us, clicking and clacking as they fall down and prick our pursuers.

“Where are we going?” I ask Mark, gasping for breath.

He shakes his head and keeps moving. “No time.”

I see the top of the mountain now; it’s covered in slippery green moss, ice-cold water trickling down through the cracks in the thick gray stone. “What’s up there?”

Mark grabs my free hand and yanks me the remaining distance to the snowy cap, the shadows now screaming behind us. “See for yourself.”

Fávlosi. Everywhere. Men, women, children. All of them standing in clusters with weapons drawn, forming an impenetrable wall in front of me. I look back and see the pale-skinned monsters gathering behind us. I’m trapped.

“What do you want?”

A woman who could be in her late twenties or early thirties removes her hood, allowing her brown hair to fall in loose curls at her shoulders, and steps forward. “I believe you know. And if you refuse, we will take him.”

Why do they want the book?

“Keep it safe.” Derick’s voice passes through my consciousness once more, but where is he?

The wall of Fávlosi parts, and there he is, lying on a stone table before me, hands and feet bound, eyes closed and face as white as a full moon. Derick.

I’m frozen.

The woman snaps her fingers, and three men move to his side, licking their lips as they raise knives over their heads. “Take any longer and he’ll be dead.”

I thrust the book at her.

She laughs, snaps again, and all I hear are Derick’s screams—

I bolted upright in bed, blood pounding against my temples from the nightmare, a steady thrumming in my ears. Just a dream. Just an awful, horrible dream.

The room was dark as pitch; not even a little light filtered through the door… wherever the door was. “Hello?”

“Abby? Thank God you’re awake.” Mark’s voice, riddled with concern, sounded parched and raspy. “You were crying out in your sleep so much I thought maybe we should head into the hospital again, maybe you had another concussion.”

“Where are you?” I felt around for a lamp but couldn’t find one. “And why is it so dark in here?”

“Power’s out.”

“What happened?”

Mark sat on the edge of the bed and patted the mattress until he found my hand. His slender fingers were sweaty and hot, tense, and he squeezed them around my palm. “What
didn’t
happen is more like it.” He sighed. “Well, while your
boyfriend
displayed his excellent street-thug skills, your little spirit friends possessed a nice human family and convinced them to ram their yacht into the bow of ours as a sort of murder/suicide. Apparently the captain
deserves
the honor of captaining this ship, as he saw them approaching and took evasive measures. While we did take a hit, the ship only incurred minimal side-swiping-type damage. He says the power should be back on in no time.”

My heart sped up, and every inch of me blazed with heat. Adrenaline and fear coursed through me like fire. It’s not what Mark said that caused me to worry, but what he didn’t say. Why was he sitting in the room alone with me? What happened to the people who attacked us? Was anyone hurt? “And where is everyone?”

“My dad is trying to convince the captain not to call the Coast Guard. Doesn’t take much, you know. He’s quite talented in what he does, more talented and proud than the rest of us.” Mark paused, rubbing his thumb along the inside of my hand. “I wish you would have trusted him more.”

Would have? I pulled away, fighting the urge to wipe his sweat from my hand. He couldn’t see me, but who knew when the lights would choose to come back on. I didn’t need another argument with Mark. Things were uncomfortable enough. “And Derick’s parents? Where are they?”

“Well, they’re either rescuing the humans who attacked us or trying to figure out what to do with Will and Megan. You shouldn’t have brought them into all of this.”

“I didn’t bring them into anything. They saved us. What were we supposed to do? Tell them no thanks, please let us die?” My head throbbed even harder, and I rubbed my neck. I couldn’t stand the additional heat the comforter brought me, so I tossed it aside and carefully crawled out of bed.

“You really need rest.”

“Since when do you care how much rest I get?”

“Since you decided to run away from home and nearly get yourself killed, repeatedly.” He grabbed my hand again and squeezed. “All I’ve ever wanted to do is protect you, but you make it so hard when you’re around
him
. I have no idea what you see in Derick, Abby.”

“Bite me, Mark.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He took a deep, strained breath as if he choked on a laugh. “Where are you going?”

“To find Derick. To talk to his parents, and yours. To do something. I can’t sit around in the dark while everyone else risks their life to keep me safe.” Being blind didn’t help my frustration. I bumped into the dresser, rattling the glasses that managed to stay upright during the attack, and fumbled my way to the door. I turned the knob and took a step into the hallway, just as dark as the room except for little security lights flashing near the ceiling. “Where is Derick, by the way?”

“I’m sure you’ll bump into him somewhere.” Acid filled Mark’s tone. “You always do.”

“Thanks… I think.” I held my arms out at my sides, like a gymnast on a balance beam, feeling for switches that might be off, or for the cut in the wall where the stairs were. I wanted to run but wasn’t even sure which bedroom Mark had brought me to. Everything felt foreign. The air was too cold for Florida, colder than I remembered it being before the fight in the hall. Or maybe my nerves were frazzled.

“Derick? Megan?” I called, alarmed by the amount of panic in my voice. Derick and Megan were the closest things to home, normalcy, to family that I had left. “Where are you?”

A moan came from somewhere near my feet. I dropped to my knees and called Derick’s name again, straining to hear his voice, crawling my way along the carpeted floor.

“Abigail…”

I crawled faster, sending my hands searching all over the place, hoping he wasn’t bleeding or broken or worse… dying.
I’m going to kill Mark
.

Someone grabbed my left forearm and pulled me down, hard. “Don’t move,” Derick said into my ear, “Don’t move until I say so.”

Fear prickled through me. “What’s—?”

“Run. Now.”

He jumped to his feet, pulling me behind, and we found the stairwell and climbed the stairs two at a time. Pale moonlight penetrated through the thin glass windows and cast a chilling glow on the room that had roared with energy earlier, during our discussions of the future. Derick didn’t pause to take a breath, but I did, and the room smelled of smoke and burned plastic.

“What’s that—?”

“Keep moving.” He hurtled us through the broken glass door of the yacht and onto the deck where his parents, Will, and Megan waited.

Maniacal laughter sounded from somewhere deep inside the ship, and I shuddered. “What was that?”

Mr. Crawford looked me square in the eyes and said, “A crazed Fávlosi.”

But Mark
. “We have to help Mark.”

Megan shuddered. “Oh, trust me, Mark’s fine.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not now.” Mr. Crawford shook his head, helping me into the small dinghy floating on the gently rolling ocean. “You said you wanted to open the planes. Now we don’t have a choice. Somehow there are many more spirits left in this world than we’d originally believed, and they’re stronger than we realized.”

“And closer to home,” Derick added, glaring at his father.

“Aedan may be against us, but not everyone will turn from our side when we travel home. This is the only way.” Mr. Crawford took a deep breath. “Are you ready?”

Everyone stared at me, expectant, covered in blood and tears and sweat and whatever else.

Blood
. I glanced at my hands. They were covered in red stains. I checked Derick over for injuries, but none of his cuts and scrapes would cause the amount of crimson on me. “If there’s a crazed Favlosi down there, we have to go back for Mark. We have to. I’ll do whatever, open the planes, anything, but I’m not leaving him behind, no matter how much—”

“Mark’s not who we thought he was,” Derick said, tipping his head toward Mr. Crawford.

He frowned, his cheeks draining of color. “We’ll explain shortly.”

I shook off a growing sense of unease and said, “I’ll do it, but I need the book, sir.”

“Where is it?” he asked, glancing back at Derick, who was strained and tense, rubbing his palms together, his shoulders hunched forward.

“In her room. I’ll go—”

“No.” I stood and threw my arms around his neck. “Not alone. You aren’t going down there alone.”

“I’ll go,” Will said, but Megan held him back.

“Absolutely not.” She shot him a glare that glued him to his seat. For once, she came across as strong, giving up the crying girl act she’d displayed almost constantly since the incident on the beach. “You don’t get to commit suicide just because Harvey’s gone.”

“Gone?”

Megan nodded. “Heart attack after impact.”

Will sucked in a sharp breath and covered his face with his hands, choking on sobs.

Before or after Mr. Snellings convinced him not to call the Coast Guard
? My heart wouldn’t allow me to put that question to words because I knew Harvey meant the world to Will, and judging by his reaction when she mentioned the incident let me know he couldn’t handle any more talking.

Derick embraced me, but only for a moment before he leaned back and ran his fingers along my forehead. The light touch sent a shock of pain through my skull. He turned his palm toward me, showing a fair amount of blood. “You can’t come, Abby. You’re hurt. You’re hurt and he might attack you, and I’m not about to watch… I’ll never let that happen to you.”

I cringed at my own weakness and allowed him to help me take a seat.

“I love you,” he whispered before standing tall and looking at his father. “What do I need to know?”

Mr. Crawford handed his son a knife, a gun, and a small vial of purple liquid, leading me to believe Mark lied about the simple nature of our accident. The possessed humans did a lot more damage than just sideswipe the boat. What else did Mark lie about? Why didn’t they want to go back for him? My pulse raced as the answer became clear, even though it made no sense.

“Take a deep breath, then throw this potion at the bottom of the steps. It will knock him out cold, but only for a few minutes,” Mr. Crawford said, “You must hurry.”

Derick nodded and ran into the boat, the darkness swallowing him whole.

“Did he hurt you, Abigail?” Mrs. Crawford asked, lifting my arms, moving my hair and looking at my neck, then my wrists. She grabbed gauze from a small first-aid kit near her feet, then pressed the clean cloth to my forehead.

“Did w-who hurt me?”

“I didn’t sense any of this, Adam. My powers are weak.” She looked up at her husband worriedly, forehead crinkled. “How could we be so careless? How could that boy be one of them?”

That
boy? Was Mark
that
boy? Why wouldn’t she look at me? “Mrs. Crawford?”

“Did you see the look in her eyes when she saw his essence shift? Right in front of her, he changed. My God, Adam.”

“Who are you talking about?” I demanded, heat flaring in my cheeks.

Mrs. Crawford looked down at her hands, then back at the ship, past me, like she was waiting, waiting for her son, waiting for him to return safely, and she couldn’t be bothered by simple questions. But then, her shoulders sagged and she met my eyes. “Mark, dear. He’s a murderer, and he’s on their side now. And his parents certainly didn’t know that, not with the way they reacted. Mr. Snellings tried to shoot him, he did. Ran upstairs to the control room, grabbed a flare gun, and shot at his son.”

“Unfortunately he missed and hit the couch. The smell of burning furniture was disgusting.” Megan made a sour face that bordered on maniacal, her legs bouncing up and down.

I got to my feet and jumped back onto the wooden deck. Derick was downstairs with Mark, a
Fávlosi
, and we were all just sitting here
waiting
.

No way would I let him fight alone.

“Abby, don’t. He’ll be right back.” Mrs. Crawford grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. “He stabbed his mother and father without an ounce of remorse. They were too shocked to put up an honest fight. So were we. I can’t let you go down there.”

“But you let
Derick
? You let him go down there with someone capable of murdering his parents,
adults
, people older and smarter than him?”