Drawing Bloodlines (5 page)

Lafonda had a compassionate, but sad look on her face as Jonas rushed past her to catch up to Bobby. “You know … things haven’t been exactly roses for them after their father died,” she said, pausing to take a deep breath. “And I’m pre
tty sure it hasn’t been easy for them finding out that he was murdered!” Lafonda leaned in closer and her carefully coifed curls drifted over her shoulders to hang in front of her. “You might want to clean your lens sometime. You might discover you’re not the only one lost on the island.”

“And what on Earth is that sup
posed to mean?” moaned Nathan.

“They look up to you, Nathan!” shouted Lafond
a.

“Ugh!” he whined.
“Don’t you think I know that?”

Lafonda tossed her hair behind her shou
lders and folded her arms across her chest again. “You have a pretty strange way of showing it,” she said with a smirk.

“Look,” groaned Nathan, “
did you need anything else? Is there something else you needed to talk to me about?”

Lafonda rolled her eyes and then shifted her gaze to the disaster beyond his shoulder. “What happened?” she be
llowed.

Nathan’s brow continued to c
rease and he looked confused.

“Ugh, what happened to your desk?” she asked, sounding slightly annoyed. She poin
ted to the shards of broken glass and bits of wood scattered across his desk. “What happened to your parents’ picture frame?”

“Uhh — nothing,” he said, quickly thrusting his hand into his pocket. He could feel the smoothness of the cylindrical shape with his fingers. “Jonas and Bobby were rough-housing and it got out of hand. Jonas’s ba
sketball broke the picture frame.”

“Oh, no!” she cried. Lafonda stepped fo
rward, eyeing the wreckage. “That’s awful! Your mom made that!”

Nathan shrugged and anxiously handled the object in his pocket. “It’s fine,” he said, ta
king a step in front of her. “I’ll clean it up.”

Lafonda froze and the sympathetic expre
ssion on her face soon morphed into a scrutinizing glare. “And where is the silver one?” she asked.

Nathan swallowed d
ryly. “In the drawer,” he said.

“And — why is it in the drawer?” she asked incredulou
sly as her eyes scrutinized his. “Is it broken?”

“
Noo
,” he said in frustration.

She glared at him and then at his hand, still shoved in his pocket. “What’s going on, N
athan?” she demanded.

“Noth
ing’s going on!” he responded.

Lafonda sighed. “I can always tell when you’re
hiding something — what is it?”

“I told you, nothing!” he groaned. “We’re not little kids anymore, Lafonda. I don’t have to hide anything from you!” Nathan cocked his head in frustration and his eyes glared
. “I can take care of myself.”

“See, there you go,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Go what?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”

Slowly, Lafonda shook her head. Her face looked thwar
ted. “More secrets,” she said.

“More secrets?” he re
plied, defensively. “Lafonda….”

“Then what’s in your pocket, Nathan?” she asked s
ternly, before he could finish.

Nathan’s eyes grew wide and he almost looked shocked, but quickly, he became r
eposed. “Nothing,” he responded, curtly.

Both Nathan and Lafonda stood still and there was s
ilence in the room. Nathan opened his mouth to say something, but Lafonda quickly turned to walk away. “You know what, Nathan?” she said, catching him off guard by spinning back around. “I’m thankful for what you did. I really am.” She paused to take a deep breath and then ran her fingers through her hair. “I mean, sheltering the burden all alone, I get it, that was really admirable of you. But oh wait, you weren’t all alone — you did trust Malick enough to talk about it.”

Quickly, she headed toward the door, but turned back around again. “I am not weak, Nathan!” she said confidently. She pointed in the direction of the main house. “But those two boys in that house over there — they need you and want to be a part of your life … just like the rest of us.” She drew quiet for a
moment. “Don’t shut them out!”

Lafonda stormed out of his room, her long hair whipping fast behind her. Instantly, N
athan plopped down unto his bed. He released a long sigh as he allowed his head to crash against the pillow. More than a few moments passed as he stared aimlessly at the still rotating blades to his ceiling fan. “Un — freaking — believable,” he muttered slowly to himself.

He couldn’t believe that after living behind the Devaro mansion all this time, Lafonda Devaro could still get to him. “Ugh!” he sighed. “She’s obviously still mad at me for not telling her about the Fallen Ones!” U
nconsciously, Nathan began to shake his head. “Well,
excuse
me for trying to save someone’s life. It’s not like I enjoy keeping secrets from everyone.”

Startled, Nathan sat up in bed. The pocket to his pants leg vibrated. “What was I supposed to say to her? I didn’t even know what was going on myself, or what was happening to me,” he rambled. “And I’m almost certain it would have gone over well: ‘Hey, Lafonda, I’m having dreams about Leah and get this, I know I’ve never met her, but I think they’re real. Oh, and another thing, I dreamt you had a long silver b
lade plunged into your back.’”

He paused to pull out his cell phone. “Yeah, right,” he continued, while staring at the face of his phone. It was a missed call from Roy. “I’m sure that woul
d have gone over really well.”

The screen to his cell phone lit up again. He had two text messages. “And Malick? Trust Stephen Malick?” he gru
mbled. “All he would say was there were dark and powerful forces and to stop using my powers — like that’s much to go on.” Unconsciously, he began to shake his head again. “And I haven’t even seen or heard from the guy since camp!”

Still disgruntled, he stopped to read the text messages on his phone. “Ugh!” he groaned, while allowing his head to fall backward and onto his pillow again. The texts were from Roy and Leah. “Thanks, Lafonda!” he be
llowed out, “for not giving me a chance to talk to them about it first!” Intently, he watched the spinning blades of the ceiling fan until his eyes began to blur. “Now Roy is mad at me for not asking permission to borrow his truck ahead of time, and Leah says she’s confused because she thought we were all going together.” 

“Grr!” he growled, after receiving another text. “There’s no gas in the truck
?” Reluctantly, Nathan climbed out of bed. “Now, I have to drive all the way into town to get gas instead of driving straight to Route 7 to get to the concert. Who has a concert outside Grimm Cemetery anyway?”

Nathan eyed the pieces of broken glass and wood on his desk as he grabbed his wallet and his house keys. Quickly, he arranged his deodorant bottle, the bottle of cologne L
aDonda got for him last Christmas and the other items knocked over by Bobby’s summersault into the dresser.
I’m going to have to finish cleaning up later
, he thought to himself.
It’s already late and now that I have to get gas, I’m going to be late to the concert
.

Nathan turned off the light to his room and darted down the hallway into the small kitchen. Quickly, he picked up the extra set of keys to Roy’s truck and closed the front door to the small cottage behind him. Slowly, Nathan made his way across the sprawling green lawn that separated the cottage from the Devaro Mansion. It was dusk and N
athan could barely see the weeds sprouting out of the garden. “I’m sure Roy will try to draft me to work on that tomorrow,” he muttered.

Nathan squinted as he made out the shape of the tall lanky person who sprinted out the front door and down the steps to the Devaro mansion. “Jonas,” he said with a frown. N
athan blinked a few times so that his eyes could adjust to the quickening darkness; even the white pillars adorning the front porch were becoming difficult to see. “Where is he going?”

Jonas’ pace soon slowed as he approached the waiting silver SUV in the u-shaped driveway. “U–
umm,” stammered Nathan, as Jonas climbed in. “I know they are not leaving without….” Slowly, Nathan’s mouth fell open as he watched the SUV trail closely behind the red Ferrari Spider as they merged unto the main road. “I can’t believe they left without telling me. And Leah too….”

Nathan pulled out his cell phone and checked to see if he had any messages, but a cloud of what looked like thick smoke su
ddenly became visible underneath the light from the screen to his cell phone. “What the…” he uttered. Quickly, Nathan waved his phone through the air, illuminating the clouds of smoke creeping around him. “Fog?”

A loud bang
echoed at him and Nathan jumped. Nathan squinted as he peered through the darkness and the surrounding fog. “That sounded like it came from behind the Devaro Mansion,” he said. He took a few steps forward, toward the back of the house and the pool area, but froze. “Huh, the kitchen light just came on. Roy must be taking out the garbage or something — then again, who knows with Bobby in the house.” 

Nathan checked his phone again. “Still no messages,” he groaned. Frustrated, he placed his cell phone back into his pocket, but su
ddenly froze again. “Wait,” he said, almost in a whisper. “Why is it so dark out? The porch light to the Devaro Mansion is usually on and the driveway lights....”

A few moments passed as Nathan continued to stare at the main house.
It’s probably nothing
, he thought.

Slowly, he started to back away and then toward the ol
der-looking truck sitting on the far side of the driveway. The truck was a deep purple that, in the dark, looked almost black. “I hope that ole’ girl starts up,” he said, while fumbling through his keys.

Nathan tried to unlock the car door, but couldn’t get the key into the lock. “Why is this locked anyway,” he mu
ttered. “We live out in the freaking country.”

A cool breeze rushed pass him and Nathan shivered.
Ugh, don’t tell me it’s getting cold now
, he thought.
Fog and cold? This will be one hell of a concert. And somebody needs to turn the outside lights on all ready — I can’t put the key into this stupid lock!

Suddenly, there was a loud bang again and Nathan almost dropped his keys. “Okay,” he said with a shiver. “That sounded like it came from behind me.
”

Nathan squinted as he tried to look through the row of tall evergreen trees that lined his side of the driveway.
Why don’t I ever have a flashlight when I need it?
He pondered. He thought that it was ironic that he lived out in the middle of nowhere, but never seemed to have one.

A shuffling noise soon came from somewhere near the trees and, instinctively, Nathan raised the palm of his hand. “Ugh,” he exclaimed, quickly putting his hand down. “I can’t use my powers! The last thing I want to do is attract the Fallen Ones, but what’s the point of being able to produce fire if I can’t use it to protect myself? Let alone do som
ething basic like, I don’t know — use it to see in the dark?”

A few moments passed as Nathan watched the row of trees sway with the wind. He had an eerie feeling as the i
ncoming fog formed swirling circular patterns at the base of the trees. Abruptly, the wind stopped and the silence that followed made his hair stand on end. “O — kay, Nathan,” he uttered to himself. “Relax. I don’t think there’s a 6 foot 5 burly Fallen One lurking amongst the evergreens.”

Nathan chuckled and then smiled after he was finally able to insert the key into the truck door.
He thought about his recent dream. He assumed Lauren and the two Fallen Ones would probably start searching for the missing medallion.
The Fallen Ones are already menacing
, he thought,
did they have to come in big sizes too?

Nathan climbed inside the truck and his cell phone began vibrating sporadically, creating a warm sensation against his leg. Nathan reached out to close the door, but a sudden gust of wind closed it for him. “Jeez,” he whined. “That almost took my arm off. I don’t remember anyt
hing about a storm coming in.”

He continued to think about the Fallen Ones, but his train of thought soon became interrupted by the constant clinke
ring sound of the freshly started engine. “I swear you can hear this truck for miles,” he muttered.

Oddly enough, he thought he heard voices and tried to peer out of the truck’s windows, but they were already fogged up. “This car is going to take forever to warm up!” he groaned. Nathan tried to wipe the driver side window with his hand. “If the Fallen Ones were planning on attacking me, now would be the tim
e to do it — I can’t even see!”

The truck’s engine continued to sputter, but Nathan swore he could still hear voices. “I can’t see a thing,” he said, with his face nea
rly pressed against the window. He was about to roll it down until his cell phone again vibrated loudly against his leg. “Lafonda said you might want some alone-time. See you at the concert,” read Nathan aloud.