Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (42 page)

Ruckus arched his eyebrows. “Brother?”

“See you on the other side.” Mr. Crawford drove a knife straight through Ruckus’ shoulder blades, directly into his heart.

His head fell, and a bright white orb rose from his mouth, surrounded by red swirling smoke. The orb traveled farther into the air until it was out of sight.

Mr. Crawford turned his attention to Boredas. “Now, your turn.”

Sirens blared in the distance.

“I’m on your side, Adam.” Boredas held up his hands, surrendering, then glanced sideways at me. “I tried telling you before.”

“You did?”

The Crawfords inched closer to him, weapons drawn.

“’I’m tired of fighting for evil’—don’t you remember? I had many opportunities to kill you, but I didn’t act upon them. Nor would I. If she died while the doors were closed, none of us would ever see our homes again.”

“What?” I asked.

“Who else would be around to open them?” Boredas huffed. “Not like they’d magically do it on their own.”

“How do you know of this?” Mrs. Crawford yanked her stake from Ruckus’ thigh, replaced it in the holster on her leg, then stepped toward Boredas.

He smiled and shrugged. “I have my ways.”

“So all of this was for nothing? Hiding, running, losing my mom and dad?”

“I would not say ‘for nothing’. You see, my brother and I knew your boyfriends were coming and let them rescue you. And I scared you in that restaurant on purpose, so these people would tell you the truth. All I wanted was for you to have the book, to separate you from your protectors so you could wake up, then take what belongs to me back to its rightful place. I wanted to return our lives to normal—all our lives.”

Our ideas of normal were far from each other, but oh how I wanted back everything he took away.

“How did you know we had your book?” Mr. Crawford asked.

“Call it a hunch based on all your self-destruction.”

Car doors slammed, and the sounds of hurried voices over two-way radios and jingling of keys filled the night.

“You have two seconds to trust me before an army of my kind arrive.” Boredas tipped his head toward the house. “Will’s girlfriend called death to this place when she dialed 9-1-1.”

“Trust him, Abby.” Mark stumbled to his feet, but Derick knocked him right back down. “
Please
. I was supposed to get the book away from you then get
you
away.”

“And you couldn’t even get that right.” Boredas spit. “I told you to keep your emotions controlled, but you’re no better than my brother. You’re far darker than any Kalóan I’ve encountered.”

Megan screamed, raising all the hairs on the back of my neck. A paramedic squeezed his hands around her throat, effectively ending her cry for help and warbling it into something sickening, a sound that didn’t belong to my friend. Will ran from his dad’s side, then shoved the possessed man away, only to have a second paramedic, a woman, yank his arm so hard he fell backward.

“Too late,” Boredas said, turning and heading down the beach. “They’ll want the book
and
your life. I only wanted the book. I’ll have no direct part in murdering for it, though.”

Mr. and Mrs. Crawford advanced on the crowd of EMTs and officers, but I didn’t follow. Not yet. There was something I had to know first.

“Wait!” I jogged after Boredas, Derick right behind me. “If I opened the planes, why are only spirits here? Where are the good guys?”

Boredas shrugged. “Best guess?”

“Any guess is good at this point.” Derick clenched his fists, his body rigid, ready to lunge if Boredas said the wrong thing, sparing only one glance at the fight in the background.

“You only opened one door.” And with that, he glanced at the fight going on behind us, cringed, then sprinted away.

erick and I stared after Boredas for a moment. How could we ever compete with Fávlosi when they seemed aware of every step we took before we took it?

“Were there two doors?” Derick stood motionless, his shoulders squared, still focusing on something in the distance.

“I don’t know.” I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the thumps and thuds of people punching each other so I could picture the doors. “I just remember the one. It was beautiful, all warm breezes, covered in ivy and surrounded by birds and trees and flowers.”

“You didn’t notice a war-ravaged wall, did you?”

“Nope. Just a pretty one.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“I didn’t say it was.” I jabbed his side. “Why do you ask?”

“Because in the game, a dragon asked me to tell him which door I liked better, and I picked one that looked more like death hit it—to which he said good choice. I’m thinking things aren’t exactly as they appeared. Can you go back?”

“I can try, but the book had to help me get there in the first place.” I stared at the cover, the title now replaced with
Book of Red
in long, scrawling print, as if someone wanted it to look creepy. “You know, it told me I was going to regret opening the planes. I think it knew I’d decided to do everything opposite of what it said.”

“Don’t blame yourself. Seems like we’re always being tricked, like the whole world’s been Romanced—or something.” Derick pointed at the dunes. “Sit in there and work on the plane doors. I have to help my parents.”

“I’ll go with her.” Mark hooked his arm through mine and pulled me away.

“Not a chance, moron.”

“You
stabbed
your parents!” I yanked my arm free and edged closer to Derick, but he pushed me toward the dune. I stood my ground, not willing to move while they squared off.

“Not on purpose.” Mark held his arms out to the side, palms facing forward, not nearly as upset about becoming a murderer as he should have been. “I’ve made so many mistakes, things I’d love to take back, but how? How do I change? I didn’t do this to myself. I didn’t ask for this. I need help!”

Derick glared at Mark. “You’re not walking away with her, and if you want to walk away with your life, you better keep your distance.”

“Come
on
. You’re alive because Boredas wanted you to be, because he came to me and asked for help.”

Derick inched closer to Mark. “Tell me something. Did it feel good?”

Mark growled, all tense muscles and clenched fists.

Only a few inches separated them, and a ton of testosterone, but Derick looked at me when he spoke, “If Mark really wants to help, he’ll fight with me. If he doesn’t, he’ll leave. Go now, Abby.”

“Fine.” I climbed up the dune, occasionally slipping in the cold sand, then finally made it to the top. I sat between two tall grass plants and opened the
Book of Red
. “I know who you are now.”

Finally
.

“I opened the planes, but the Kalóans aren’t here.”

Do you have a question?

Jerk. “Why didn’t they come when I opened the door?”

Maybe they don’t want to be here. Maybe Aedan prefers watching the last Guardian die, so he doesn’t have to kill you.

“Maybe, but maybe that’s all a lie.” Like the whole world has been Romanced, like we’ve all been played. What did Mark say? That the Crawfords and my real dad brought death to all the Guardians. The book connected all of us. We’d all touched it, read it, learned from it. “Who told Brendan that Aedan was going to kill all the Guardians?”

Disrespectful of you to call the man who gave you life by his first name. This world has been bad for you.

“Okay, then, who told my dad Aedan was going to kill all the Guardians?”

Better. I did.

“Who told Mr. Crawford my dad wanted me to live a normal life?”

Your father
.

“Who inspired him?”

I did. I’m impressed with how well you catch on. You’re much brighter than all the rest who’ve read these pages.

Gee thanks. “What’s the Order of the Guardian’s Secret, the thing that was so important we had to be kept away from it?”

So after all the other lies, you still believe there is a secret?

“Yes.” Though I doubted the hidden truth was as dangerous as the Taker made it seem when I’d read about it the other day.

Intelligent, indeed. But the real question should be ‘What is the Order of the Guardian’.

“Are you going to make me ask again?”

No. During the last Originals battle, your precious Guardians slaughtered my Destroyers and stole the
Book of Red
from them. They even put it in the same saddlebag as the
Book of White.
When they returned home with their treasure, ready to celebrate in the streets, they discovered both books appeared with the same title. They knew not which was which and were too ashamed to tell the people they lost their connection to the Maker. So the four men instated a pact, swearing never to reveal how lost they truly were, and to pass that information on to their children. But those four men met an untimely death upon their next visit to this plane, leaving the knowledge of the Order to turn to ash. The books weren’t discovered again until your father roamed the halls of the great library, during his Guardian studies. There, he found
History of Kalós,
and the very first thing I told him to do was keep the book to himself, to never share the knowledge of my existence until I said the time was right. He was young and so very, very foolish.

I wanted to tear the pages to shreds, make the Taker bleed paper dust, rip apart his harmful words, his poisonous ways, but I had one more question first. Then I’d burn the thing. That way he couldn’t help or hurt anyone ever again. “How many doors are there?”

Two, but I won’t help you open the other one. And you’re already too late. Look around you, Abigail Doran. The world is burning
.

“What are you talking about?” I glanced out at the horizon, but didn’t see much of anything. But looking behind me, I nearly choked.

Fire.

Everywhere.

Will’s house and everything around it burned. Bright orange flames lapped the sides of the house and ripped through the once beautiful and calming palm trees, sending a steady stream of smoke billowing into the sky.

A sudden gust of wind picked up the sand and whipped it against my skin. I looked up and spotted two SWAT helicopters. Their doors opened, and two men hung out of the sides, armed with machine guns. A bright white light shined down on me. “Hold it right there.”

I shielded my eyes with my hand and tried to find the person speaking. I couldn’t see anything. Sirens blared in the distance, but the sound of the propellers nearly drowned them out.

“Put your hands in the air, and wait for an officer to approach you.”

I slowly raised my hands and put them on my head. Then I looked down at the book, the spine open and the thin pages flipping all around in the wind. I scooted my toes toward it and held the paper still.

They aren’t just here on this tropical paradise, Abigail Doran. Every city, every small or vast stretch of land, every corner, every crevice of this earth is burning—at least on this plane. Enjoy my show
.

“
Derick
!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, afraid to move. The humans were possessed; they could shoot me before I ever made it down the dune to the others. We’d been tricked. My dad. The Crawfords. The Snellings. All of us. Aedan and everyone on Kalós probably thought we were stupid, disconnecting ourselves from reality and living in a scam created by a brilliant artist.