Awaking (The Naturals, #1) (2 page)

“We should go.”

Morgan laughed. “What? And give them the satisfaction? No way.” She looked at Ris, who was eyeing her dubiously. She gave Ris a playful shove. “Look, go get me a pop. I’m gonna collect myself a bit. We’ll meet back here in five. Then we dance, okay?”

Ris continued to survey Morgan, but the allure of dancing finally won out. A broad grin stretched across her face. “Okay. Back in five.”

Morgan watched as Ris disappeared into the crowd before making her way in the direction of the back of the house. The idea of sitting outside for a few minutes was more than a little appealing.

After some close encounters with a group of exuberantly dancing guys and the scene of what looked like a dramatic breakup, Morgan found the back door. When she exited, to her left, she noticed a hot tub crammed with people. After a quick scan of the deep lot, she noticed a white structure in the far right corner standing out in the darkness. As she approached it, she saw it was actually a set of benches facing each other, connected overhead by a kind of roof. The perfect place to sit and regroup before going back in to Ris.

She sat down, immediately resting her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. She tried to press from her mind the memory of what had just happened, but she couldn’t. Instead, what Marya and Shayna said seemed to pull from the shadows of her memory the things she tried hardest not to think about, the thing she had spent nearly ten years trying to forget…

Morgan remembered everything about the day in exquisite detail: how the green tights she wore felt as they rubbed against her legs, how the cowlick at the crown of her head stuck out at an angle. How her mother smiled and waved when she dropped Morgan and her cousin off at second grade that morning. She remembered that the apple in her lunch that day had been bruised. She remembered that she had been the one to volunteer the correct spelling of the word accomplishment—remembered how proud she felt and how excited she was to tell her mom when she came to pick her up after school.

But Chelsea Abbey hadn’t been in the parking lot at the end of the day. Morgan and her cousin Joss had waited outside so long that the custodian noticed and brought them inside to call home. But Morgan’s mother hadn’t been there either.

That was when Morgan’s memory became indistinct—more emotion than recollection. At first, she knew, there had been worry—had her mother been in an accident? But there was no one fitting her description at local hospitals. Once Chelsea’s car was located, abandoned at a local mall, people began to think foul play was involved. Morgan remembered coming home one day to a sea of reporters in her front yard, remembered her father giving impassioned pleas for details about her mother’s disappearance. And she remembered the day the police came to take her father to the station to ask him some questions.

Something in the air changed, pulling Morgan from her thoughts. She straightened and looked up, surprised to see a figure approaching. It was a distinctly masculine shape, and her first thought was that Corbin Starling had come to check on her. But the person didn’t move like Corbin—his movements were more fluid, almost catlike.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a voice just as smooth as his movements. “I wasn’t trying to scare you. Mind if I sit?”

Morgan’s first instinct was to tell the guy to get lost, but something in the back of her mind stopped her. “Go ahead.”

He took a seat directly across from her, and when he did, Morgan realized she recognized him: this was the guy Lynna had been chatting up when she arrived.

He smiled, causing a face that was merely handsome before to become devastating. “I thought I should come apologize.”

So distracted was Morgan by his smile that it took her a moment to register what he said. “Why would you apologize?”

He shrugged. “You know as well as I do that I’m partially at fault for what happened in there. Your brunette friend was a little irritated when I stopped paying attention to her.”

Morgan just stared at him, unsure what to say. So she hadn’t been imagining things earlier when she made eye contact with him: he had been watching her.

“You’re better than them, you know,” he said, leaning toward her just slightly. “Better then all of them put together, Morgan.”

She froze, staring at him. “How did you know my name?”

His lips stretched in another smile, this time showing flashes of teeth. “I know lots about you.”

A creeping sensation worked its way from her back, over her neck, and up into her scalp. She opened her mouth but closed it again quickly, realizing she didn’t know how to respond.

“For example,” he continued, unbothered by her unease, “I know that you’re your high school’s resident psychic, that you and your friend in there run a little business. I also know about your mother.”

Morgan’s discomfort evaporated, replaced by a flash of anger. “Well that’s not exactly a secret, is it. Especially after Marya and Shayna—”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I know she disappeared of her own volition. She left to protect you.”

“What?” Morgan’s heartbeat pounded in her ears, and she felt her fingertips trembling. “Who are you? What do you know about my mom?”

He didn’t respond, his body going stiff. He turned his head just slightly before standing up in one quick movement. “This isn’t the time or place. Meet me tomorrow, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Morgan stood too, taking hold of his arm. “You can’t just say something like that about my mom and then leave. I don’t even know your name.”

“Meet me tomorrow morning—nine o’clock. There’s a coffee house a few miles from here called the Daily Grind. You know it?”

Morgan nodded.

He removed her hand from his arm and began backing away. “Nine o’clock,” he called back in a voice just loud enough for her to hear. “And my name is Kellen.” He turned around then and disappeared amid a crowd entering the yard through the back door.

Chapter Two

Nine o’clock the next morning couldn’t come fast enough.

Despite the fact that Ris had kept her out until after midnight, Morgan still woke with the sun. She attempted to distract herself by cruising Tumblr, but it didn’t help. When her dad got up for work and found her making pancakes and bacon, to say he was surprised would be an understatement.

She had already cleaned up the breakfast dishes and was in the middle of vacuuming the living room when nine o’clock finally approached. She was careful not to speed as she made her way to the Daily Grind, a coffee house she had passed numerous times but had never stopped at.

A tinny bell clanged as Morgan pushed open the door to the Daily Grind. She immediately took in her surroundings. The lighting was dim, but not enough to make things seem cave-like. The seating looked worn-in and comfortable, but not in a broken-down way. There was a group of twenty-somethings occupying a set of couches in the front corner, deep in conversation. A few other tables were occupied by singles or couples, most of whom were reading, studying, or working on computers. But no Kellen.

She surveyed the room once more, in case she missed him. Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she checked the time. It was still a few minutes until nine. He just wasn’t here yet.

Morgan suddenly felt self-conscious. She must look strange, just standing there in front of the door. She moved toward the counter to place an order. The barista’s back was turned to her, and she took the opportunity to peruse the menu.

The barista finished up what he was doing and walked to his place behind the register. “What can I get for you?”

Morgan pulled her attention on the menu board though she still had no idea. She studied the barista for a moment. He was tall, with wavy hair so dark it almost looked black. He looked familiar. “You go to my school, right?”

He nodded. “ABC. You’re Morgan Abbey, psychic to all, friend to one.”

Morgan squared her shoulders, preparing to be insulted, but the guy smiled.

“I do have more than one friend, you know,” Morgan said, her posture relaxing. “You’re Lucas, right? Lucas… Kenrick. We were in Spanish together.”

“Both years,” Lucas confirmed. “And English. Last year.”

“And freshman year,” Morgan added, not to be outdone.

Lucas smiled. He seemed pleased that Morgan remembered their shared freshman class.

“So,” Lucas repeated, “what can I get you?”

Morgan realized she still hadn’t made a decision, so she equivocated. “What do you think is good?”

“Hot or cold?”

Morgan shrugged. “Hot?”

Lucas smiled. Without another word, he went to the espresso machine and set to work. Moments later, the machine was hissing and humming. Morgan cast a dubious glance in Lucas’s direction, but he wasn’t paying attention to her.

A few minutes later, Lucas set an oversized mug down in front Morgan. “For you, a white chocolate cocoa with a shot of raspberry.”

Morgan took a sip and smiled broadly. “Lucas, this is fabulous. How'd you know I'd like it?”

Lucas shrugged. “I have a good sense of the drinks people’ll like. It’s my special talent.”

Morgan paid and thanked Lucas before turning her attention back to the coffee shop’s customers. She moved to the left side of the room to get a better look at some of the overstuffed couches, but she still didn’t see Kellen. She pulled out her phone to check the time again. It was now decidedly after nine o’clock, and Morgan started to wonder if this whole thing wasn’t some kind of sick joke. She wouldn’t put something like this past Lynna’s minions, but she refused to believe Lynna herself would stoop to such a level.

“I’m glad you came.”

Morgan jumped, some of her drink sloshing over the side of her mug. Kellen stood before her, looking just as relaxed and nonchalant as he had the previous night.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, a half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Come with me.”

He turned and started toward a hallway at the back of the room. The sign above the arch indicated they were moving in the direction of the bathrooms. They entered the hallway and passed the women’s room door on the right. She was about to tell him that she would, on no uncertain terms, to into the men’s bathroom when he turned to the left, indicating a closed door labeled Employees Only.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You work here?”

He let out a short laugh. “No.” He pushed open the door to reveal a room that looked like it should be an extension of the area they’d just come from. There were two couches forming an L in the corner and a small coffee table loaded down with an old television against the nearby wall. Against the only remaining wall were three high-top tables surrounded by stools.

Kellen made a sweeping motion with his arm toward the couches and Morgan took that to mean he wanted her to sit there. As she moved to take a seat, Kellen closed the door behind them. She watched him as he crossed the room, struck by his appearance. The dim light last night hadn’t done him justice. He was possibly the single most handsome guy she’d ever seen in real life. His jaw was strong and angular, but pleasingly so, and his hazel eyes held flecks of green and gold. So overwhelming were his looks that she momentarily forgot why she was here. But as he sat on the couch beside her, her mind snapped back to reality. She took in a breath and faced him.

“You said you knew things about my mom. You said she left on her own and she did it to protect me?”

Kellen nodded. “But before I tell you why, there are some other things you need to know.”

She shook her head. “I don’t care about other things, I only care about my mom. How do you know this stuff about her? What were you, like, ten when she disappeared? Do you know where she is?”

He didn’t respond right away, the look on his face indicating he was considering something. “Nine.”

“What, are you speaking German or something?”

He shook his head. “She’s been gone almost ten years. I would’ve been nine. But, yes, I suppose if we were speaking German it would’ve been the answer to your other question too. I don’t know where she is.”

Morgan stared at him. The perfection of his face juxtaposed against the imperfection of his information was maddening. “What exactly do you know then?”

“You’ve gotta let me start at the beginning, otherwise nothing’s gonna make sense, okay?”

She considered this for a moment. She still wasn’t sure this wasn’t some elaborate prank—perpetrated, perhaps, by someone who had received a fortune she didn’t like. But, if there was even the slightest chance he could be on the level, she had to hear him out. She nodded.

Kellen took in a breath and released it slowly. He drummed his fingers on the coffee table in front of him for a few measures before turning his attention to Morgan. “The world is divided up into two basic groups. The first group is the one you already know about—the one you deal with every day. The one you probably think is the only one. But then there’s the other group. There are people who can calm you down when you’re upset or make you happy when you’re sad. And there are people who can know things he’s not supposed to know about things that haven’t happened yet.” He paused, glancing back down at the coffee table. He rested his right hand on it, palm toward Morgan’s drink, which was about a foot away. Morgan watched as the glass slid easily across the table until it rested against Kellen’s palm. “And there are people like me.”

Morgan opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t form the words. Had she really just seen that happen? Had he made a glass move across the table? Or were there some smoke and mirrors somewhere that she couldn’t see?

“Not a trick,” he said, answering Morgan’s unvoiced question.

Morgan looked into Kellen’s eyes. “Which group do I fall in?”

Kellen smiled. “Suffice it to say that if you were in the latter category, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But you… you’re special.”

“But I can’t do any of the things you just mentioned—”

“Really?” He sounded unconvinced. “So you’re saying you’ve never… guessed that something was going to happen before it did? Or known something about someone that you shouldn’t have known?”