Echo Into Darkness: Book 2 in The Echo Saga (Teen Paranormal Romance) (2 page)

"You're gifted," she said. "You can levitate and move things with your mind."

Only another gifted person would know about my abilities without me telling them. Once, a few months back, I longed to share my truth with another gifted person, to shake the never-ending loneliness.

This wasn't an ordinary gifted girl, though. I had tucked my aura in tight to keep my paranormal abilities secret. This girl had identified me anyway. She was hiding hers, too, like she had been schooled in the uncommon art of auric camouflage.

She let her aura loose and the air between us pulsed. A humid, chemical taste clogged the back of my throat. Alarm pinched my stomach. I scooped Tito and took three long steps backward.

"You're in the faction," I choked.

The girl blinked at me, her eyes as big as an owl's. Searing guilt drifted off her energy field and collected in my chest. What had this girl done to make her feel this way, to make her teeter on the edge of death?

Something Connor had said came back to me. When gifted people were enslaved, they were expected to follow orders, no matter how hideous the demands. If they refused, the faction forced them, using any method necessary, including torture. I wasn't sure exactly what this girl had been through, but I could not abandon her.

"Please come down," I said. "Come down and we can talk."

"They made me do it." She panted, unable to catch her breath. She clenched her eyes. "I can still hear the screaming."

I had no clue what she was talking about, but played along. "You're right; they made you do it. They're responsible for what happened. Now come on down."

The girl sensed my uncertainty. "You think I'm crazy." Her attention latched onto Tito. She levitated him out of my arms.

"What are you doing?" I strapped my dog to my chest. "Leave him alone. I believe you, all right?"

Tears rolled down her face. "The lightning strike. I made it hit those people outside the movie theater. They never even did anything to deserve it."

"Oh my God," I said. "You did that?"

During winter in the Pacific Northwest, it rained for months on end, but lightning was extremely rare. So it was beyond freaky when, on a clear day last week, a bolt struck and killed six people while they waited in line to buy movie tickets.

"If I didn't do it, they were going to hurt me again." She wiped her nose on the back of her coat sleeve. That, too, was wet with a red stain.

"Are you bleeding?" I asked. "Did they do that to you?"

She nodded.

"Who are they? Tell me who did it." If this ended badly—and please, please don't let that happen—I would at least have something to take to the police.

Her jaw trembled. An odd thought went through my mind. She couldn't have been more than seventeen. My age. She turned away and faced the gaping blackness beyond the bridge.

"Wait!" In one swift movement, I set Tito on the sidewalk and clutched the girl's coat in both my hands. The fabric was slick between my cotton gloves. If she jumped, she would slip right out of my grasp.

A glimmer of recognition swelled in her aura. "I've felt you before," she said in a dreamy voice. "I know who you are." She seemed to look right through me. "
They've
felt you, too. They can sense you're in the city. They'll figure out who you are and come after you. You have everything they want."

A tremor knocked through my legs. "Who? You have to tell me who runs the faction."

"They'll never stop using me. This is the only way out for any of us." Her gaze was fixed on a distant point.

Then, as though she had a sudden change of heart, the girl extended her hand. Yes, thank God, I was finally getting through to her. I took it, thrilled that she was coming down. Instead, she leaned away, her weight pulling me onto the ledge with her.

"Jump with me. Before they get to you. It's the only way out," she repeated.

I ripped my hand away. This girl was seriously sick. "I'm going for help. Please stay here."

No sooner had I gathered up Tito than the strangest thing happened. The girl became bathed in white light, as if by the simple act of intense wishing, she had become a celestial being. After a few seconds, the glow fell away, casting her in darkness again and drawing our eyes to the highway below.

A car had stopped on the shoulder, and someone aimed a spotlight at the bridge. It skimmed the abutment on our left, drew toward the center, slowing at each section. The harsh light drifted across the columns and spindles and settled once again on the girl. Her arm shot up to shield her face.

"They found me," she wailed. She dropped to the sidewalk, knocked me to the pavement, and sprinted down the hill toward town. Her blue jacket faded into the inky night.

The spotlight kept pace but then lost her. Instead of going dark, it arced and dove, retracing the girl's steps to the center of the bridge. When it glared between the railing spindles, cutting my body into vertical stripes of shadow and light, I grabbed Tito and ran.

Chapter 2

The dream came like clockwork. Connor lay next to me with his head resting on my shoulder. His hand found its way to my bare stomach, where it rose and fell with each of my breaths.

We were stretched out on the portico roof outside my bedroom window. In my dream, wispy clouds feathered across the blue sky and the tops of Douglas fir trees swayed in the breeze. I was happier than I'd been in months. With Connor's hand nestled beneath my shirt, it was impossible to be
unhappy
. His fingers traveled north to my rib cage and traced circles.

"That tickles," I giggled. I laced a handful of midnight black hair through my fingers and tilted his head back. His perfectly formed lips curved into a devil-may-care smile. The blue flecks in his eyes communicated a promise that I couldn't quite make out, but was packed with daring and thrill.

He rose onto one elbow and hovered over me. He brushed his lips across my throat and a day's worth of stubble pricked my cheek. This was odd because I'd only ever seen him close-shaven. The tip of his tongue darted along my lips, teasing me with the taste of earth and dampness. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Then he sunk his mouth onto mine, and my whole body melted.

"Echo," he said without leaving my mouth.

"Mmm?" I said as our tongues slid together. Whatever he wanted would have to wait.

"Echo," he repeated.

"Sshhh," I said and got lost in his kiss again. I loved how he said my name without moving his lips, like he was speaking directly into my thoughts. In my dream, we had grown so close we had lost the need to communicate like regular people.

"Tell me whatever you want, but don't stop kissing me," I answered with my mind.

Connor pulled his mouth away. Then he sneezed on me.

"Echo, wake up or you'll be late for school," a female voice crackled in my ear.

Like a broken mirror, the perfect image of blue sky, fir trees, and Connor split down the middle, splintered, and fell out of sight.

I opened my eyes part way. Kimber was setting a pile of folded laundry on my dresser. "I don't want to get any calls about you skipping school this semester, all right?"

School?

Tito ogled me from his spot next to me. His bulgy eyes quivered like he'd had too much caffeine, pretty much the natural state for a Chihuahua.

"
Aaagh!
Please, everyone go away." And Connor, come back! I stuffed the pillow over my head.

Kimber stole the pillow. "Did you hear what I said about missing school?"

"Yessss," I hissed. I played hooky with Connor
one
day last semester, and everyone acted like I'd become a repeat delinquent.

"Going back to school will be good for you. You've spent too much time moping around the house." She planted a quick peck on the top of my head. "Are you okay this morning?"

I'd told Kimber about the girl on the bridge as soon as I got home. She had called the police and gave them the description I provided. Though it probably wasn't worth anything, I had also told her the girl was running away from someone. No, I didn't know who. No, I didn't get her name. I skipped over the paranormal part of our interaction.

"I'm all right," I replied, even though I was far from it. I'd tossed most of the night, afraid for the girl and what might have become of her. The dream about Connor was my sole reprieve from a night of fitful sleep.

"Kimber," I called out. She waited at the door, expectant. "Thanks for everything."

"Of course, sweetie." She gave me a quizzical look. "Did something happen last night that you're not telling me?"

"No. I just, you know, appreciate your help telling the police."

"Well, you're welcome. Have a good day at school." She hurried out.

"That's a contradiction in terms," I said to Tito. He yawned.

"Ew, your breath smells like dog butt."

I rubbed my eyes and licked the sleep off my lips. They tasted suspiciously like kibble. And dog butt. "Oh, gross!"

No wonder my soulmate's kisses had felt so real. Someone's tongue
had
been in my mouth.

A half a bottle of mouthwash later, I'd rinsed away Tito's French kiss. I showered and pulled my chestnut hair into a ponytail. I levitated the mascara wand into my hand and swiped a dark layer onto my lashes. The tube of Shimmer Berry lip gloss rose off the vanity on its own, the top twisted off, and I expertly stroked it across my lips, all without touching any of it.

At my closet, I plunged my hand through the closed door. I smiled, remembering the first time Connor had taught me how to move my body through solid objects. That happy memory was followed by the dull ache of loneliness. I pushed his perfect face out of my head.

My knuckles made a soft sucking sound as they disappeared into the wood and emerged in the dark interior. I flipped through the hangers and blindly selected a shirt. Then I pulled it, hanger and all, through the door.

"Yup, that's about right," I said to the black blouse I'd chosen. I slid into a pair of jeans and clasped the coin necklace that Connor had given me around my neck. I slipped magnetic bracelets onto my wrist, that extra layer of protection to help keep my aura contained.

I usually enjoyed my morning magic routine, but today, the ritual was tainted with darkness. The girl on the bridge had been a wakeup call, and any doubts that I'd had about the faction existing in Portland were gone. As disturbing as the encounter had been, the girl fascinated me. She was the strongest person I'd met here, in my time. A kindred spirit who'd been sucked to the dark side.

I wanted to know where she'd gone and if she'd survived the night. Did her parents know what was happening to her? I doubted it. Let's face it: you try to convince adults about paranormal power and faction baddies and you'll find yourself in a three-day institution lockdown with a Thorazine drip.

A tremor went through my shoulders. If she had jumped, and her body was discovered at the bottom of the ravine, her parents would have no clue why she ended her life.

My bedside clock ticked closer to the school's late bell. I ignored it, sat at my desk, and fished out a piece of paper. The girl's warning shook me. The thought that I, too, might be snatched up by the faction made my head buzz.

I scribbled a hasty note and sealed it in an envelope. On the outside I wrote:
To Dad and Kimber
. If, by some horrific turn of events, I didn't make it home after school one day, the note would give my parents some closure. I set this under my alarm clock where it would go unnoticed unless someone was looking for it.

I slung my book bag over my shoulder, catching my reflection in the mirror. My shoulders curled inward. My chin hung. I was cowering.

The past months had been a fresh sort of hell. I'd lived in fear of a nebulous threat I did not understand. Then, I met someone who suffered at the hand of the very people I was trying to avoid.

I had two choices: let blind fear consume me every day for the rest of my life, or find out what I was up against. There was only one place to start.

I had to find that girl.

*******

The BMW that my dad bought for me hated cold weather as much as I did. It slowly chugged to life when I teased the ignition. The engine dragged as I eased it out of the garage and down the hail-slickened hill toward my high school.

The freezing temperature made my teeth knock together but I didn't bother turning the heater on. Lincoln High was a few minutes away, on the edge of downtown, but I wasn't even going that far. Partway down the hill, I parked at the West Vista Bridge and got out.

I counted out the pillars to the fourth one, and dipped my head over the side. I didn't know what I expected to find—a blood smear, a personal item left behind, or the girl's phone number written in bright ink with a message saying
let's grab vanilla lattes and play 'find the villains'!

On the far side of the column, a few millimeters from the drop-off, a small silver object glittered. An earring? A small pendant? Whatever it was, it was potentially a clue, and well out of reach.