FEARLESS: The King Series, Book One (29 page)

BOOK: FEARLESS: The King Series, Book One
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Chapter Fifty

 

 

 

Michael came over after school, and I filled him in on the meeting with Detective Lawrence.

“So he didn’t ask you directly how you knew about Nell’s plans?” he asked, frowning.

“No. He made it clear that he was curious, but he also gave me the option of not telling him. And obviously I took that option.”

Michael was silent, thinking. I picked up some of it, a few random, incomplete thoughts.

“What is it?” I prompted, puzzled by what I was hearing.

“I just remembered that Sam Lawrence’s daughter was in Lela’s class. They weren’t really good friends, but she came over every now and then. She was very proud of the fact that she came from one of King’s original families.”

Things were falling into place. “Which carnie member did she come down from?” I asked, and then nodded before Michael could answer out loud. “Ah, I see. So how closely is he related to Nell?”

“Not too close. Maybe third or fourth cousins? But they’re in the same family.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “That explains a lot. I almost got the feeling…” I trailed off, thinking about our conversation. “I think he might have known more about me than he let on. But he was cool about it—like he didn’t really want me to say it.”

“It would have complicated matters for him to have been forced to pursue that angle. As it stands, Nell’s been quietly put away, and it’s all very tidy.”

“All the loose ends tied up,” I agreed somberly. “Just like with her mother.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against Michael’s arm. “I know she wanted to hurt me—to kill us. I think she would have done it. But I can’t help feeling that I failed her somehow. I knew what she was planning, what she was thinking. Is there something I could have done, some way I might have helped her?”

“You can’t look at it that way. You gave her every chance to change her mind.”

“Maybe.” I wasn’t ready to concede.

“On another topic, I hate to mention this, but it might be that
all
the loose ends aren’t tied up. Amber and Cara asked if they could come to visit you this afternoon.”

I smiled. “I don’t call them loose ends.”

“That’s not what I meant. Amber caught me between classes and told me that Cara’s dad was very curious about the details of our little adventure. I guess once he had time to process everything, he realized some of the pieces didn’t fit.  I think he’s afraid that maybe you were involved in Nell’s—uh, extracurricular activities. Not as the sacrifice, but as a participant. He’s been grilling Cara and Amber about you.”

I blew out a sigh and rolled my eyes. “Geez, I can’t catch a break. If it’s not an insane wanna-be witch trying to exsanguinate me, it’s a preacher trying to burn me at the stake.”

Michael softly rubbed my shoulder. “I don’t think it’s that bad. No stakes yet. He’s just curious. Apparently he told Cara he didn’t want her spending too much time with you until he was sure about—who you are.”

“Well, when he figures it out, maybe he can let me know,” I muttered. “Between how my parents are feeling about my recent actions and my guilt over Nell, I’m not sure if I’m the superhero or the villain anymore.”

“Hey.” Michael lifted my chin to look into my eyes. “You’re neither. You’re a beautiful girl with a good heart who tries her best to help others—and if they don’t want help, there’s nothing you can do about it. More importantly, you’re the one I love—my one and only. Never forget that.”

I needed that assurance when I returned to school the following week. Although I was happy to be with Michael, I was dreading the inevitable talk and questions—both what I would hear verbally and what I’d pick up from mind-buzz.

There were curious looks and I knew people were talking, but no one approached me directly. In French, Cara was happy to see me. She and Amber had visited me over the weekend, and she hadn’t said anything about her dad or his questions. A few of her thoughts went in that direction, but there was nothing concrete. Mostly she seemed to think he was overreacting.

I was dreading Chemistry most of all. I dawdled along the walkway, timing my arrival for the last possible minute before the bell rang and sliding into my seat just as Ms. Lacusta began her lecture.

Her eyes moved over me with only the slightest change in expression, but otherwise, she didn’t react. I kept my eyes down and took careful notes. Beside me, Liza shifted uncomfortably, and in front of us, Casey, now sitting by herself, didn’t even look my way. I couldn’t help feeling the same unease they were both experiencing, and I focused on not hearing their thoughts.

At the end of class, as we all put away our books, Liza half-turned in her seat so that she was facing me. Not meeting my eyes, she said quietly, “We had no idea what—what she was planning to do. I never—if I
had
known—“

In the same low tone, I replied, “I know. But you suspected. You had to have wondered what was going with Amber, why Nell suddenly wanted her in the group. And you didn’t do anything about that.” I stood slowly and my hands went unconsciously to the bandages still at my neck. “It could have ended much worse than it did.”

Liza nodded, and as Casey turned, their eyes met. The troubled expressions they wore were identical. I wasn’t worried about them; without Nell to act as ringleader, I had the sense that her former friends would leave me strictly alone.

I couldn’t say the same about Ms. Lacusta. Michael had heard through the town grapevine that she had been reprimanded by the administration for being too involved with a student, but that her job was not in jeopardy. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. In my mind, she bore a great deal of responsibility for Nell’s actions; even if she hadn’t introduced the idea of witchcraft to her, I had no doubt that Ms. Lacusta had encouraged Nell to push the envelope. Whether she knew it or not—and I had dark ideas about that—the teacher had played on Nell’s longing for a mother figure in order to manipulate the girl. Now Nell was paying, and Ms. Lacusta had received a figurative slap on the wrist. It wasn’t fair, and that frustrated me.

I also worried about how much Ms. Lacusta knew or suspected about me, and how long she would keep quiet. I had a sense that she would use the information if she had to. For the immediate future, though, I was fairly certain that she was going to maintain a low profile, at least until the whole Nell situation had died down.

The nursery had extended hours through the holiday season, and Michael offered to work later that night in exchange for some free time after school. It was a rare dreary day, with spotty showers, so we drove over to Lancer Park and sat in the car. I was just glad for some peace and quiet away from the inquisitive thoughts at school and the anxiety of my parents at home.

We held hands and gazed out at the lake, gray in the dim light. Michael’s eyes were half-closed as he leaned his head back against the seat. A small flesh colored tape still covered the wound on his cheek, and every time I saw it, a trace of the panic I’d felt when Nell had cut him surged through me.

“Do you ever wonder what it all means?”

I wasn’t surprised by his words, since I’d been picking up his brooding thoughts since we left school.

“Maybe you should be more specific about ‘it’,” I suggested. “You’ve been thinking about quite a few things. Do you mean everything that happened with Nell, with what goes on in King… or do you mean us?”

His hand tightened around mine, and he lifted our joined fingers to lightly stroke my cheek.

“I think I mean all of it. But not—I don’t mean that I have doubts about you and me. That’s the one thing that seems completely
right
, without question. I was just thinking about all the circumstances that put us here, together, in this time and place.”

I shifted in my seat and pulled my feet up to curl under me. “What brought this on?” I wondered.

“I don’t know. I guess some of it is my parents. They got talking the other night, about everything that had happened, and my dad said that maybe it wouldn’t hurt us to check out Reverend Pryce’s church. I thought my mom would freak out a little, but she actually said that he might be right.”

“Why are they thinking about church right now?”

“My dad said that after seeing some of the real evil that’s out there, the stuff that Nell was messing with, he thinks it wouldn’t hurt to find out what the good guys are up to. That’s how he put it. Maybe they’re looking for reassurance… don’t know. He sat with Cara’s dad for quite a while at the hospital the day everything went down. Mr. Pryce was talking about demonic spirits and all that. I guess he thought that Nell’s witchcraft involved that kind of thing.”

“So now that’s got you thinking, too.”

“Yeah, I guess. I was remembering you said maybe your gift was given to you for a reason, that you’re suppose to use it for the greater good. So you think that it came from God. And I thought about how we met. Could that really be a coincidence? Or were we meant to be together—were we brought together by some higher power—like God?”

I leaned my head against the seat, considering. We’d skirted around this conversation before, but Michael had never seemed so troubled by the possibilities.

“Are you feeling manipulated? Are you questioning. . .why we were brought together?”

“No!” He was emphatic. “No, I told you, I don’t have doubts about us.”

“I’m not suggesting that you do. I’m only saying that it wouldn’t be wrong for you to feel—to feel that you didn’t really have a say in this. If things work in your family the way you’ve told me—well, it’s occurred to me before now that eventually you might resent your lack of choice. And I would understand that.”

No longer leaning back, Michael fastened his incredulous gaze on me. “So you’re saying that if I told you now, today, that you’re right—that I feel like fate or God or whatever pushed me into this relationship—you’d be perfectly okay with that?”

“No!” This time it was my voice that rose several octaves, and tears threatened behind my eyes. “Of course I wouldn’t be. I would be—it would devastate me. But maybe the idea that you were with me under duress would be even worse.” I turned away toward my window, pulling my hand away from Michael’s and pressing my fingers against my eyes. Shaken, I couldn’t help but hear him quite clearly.

No. That’s not it. There’s no duress. It’s true that something powerful drew us together at first, but I wouldn’t change that—not for anything. To give this up—to not have her—it would be like someone taking away my ability to breathe. I couldn’t live.

“You lived before,” I mumbled, my voice muffled against my arms and my back still turned to him.

“But not well. Not like now.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that as well as I know my own name.”

I wrapped my arms around my knees and leaned my forehead against the glass. The stiff bandages still on my neck poked up into my chin. He meant it, I was sure.  Nothing in his thoughts rang false; if he was deceiving me, he was also lying to himself. But could he really be so certain?

I felt his hand sweep down my back, the lightest touch. I shivered and for a fleeting moment thought that nothing else mattered; I needed him. The whys and hows weren’t important. That he wanted me was the miracle of my life, and perhaps that was good enough.

But I knew it wasn’t true. I couldn’t keep him with me out of my own great need. I loved him too much to do that.

“What about you?” Michael interrupted my reverie. “What if you’re the one who really didn’t have a choice? I never gave you a chance to make up your own mind. I just swept you along, because I knew—I know—that I wanted only you. That I could love only you. But maybe you’re second-guessing that now.” He radiated uncertain misery, and my heart ached for his pain.

“I wasn’t ever unsure. I never felt like you forced me into anything. I was frightened, because it was all new. And I’m still scared now—I’m still afraid that you’re going to wish fate picked someone else for you—someone beautiful and smart and
normal
.”

Michael grasped me by my shoulders and gently pulled me across my seat, over the gearshift and onto his lap. My back was against the driver’s door, and my face was inches from his.

“You are so beautiful that more often than you know, I can’t take my eyes off you. I stop breathing each morning when I see you for the first time. You’re the most well-read, intelligent person I’ve ever met. And normal—who wants normal? What you can do, your gift, it’s part of who you are. It’s part of your compassion, your tender heart. It’s why you’re still mourning over Nell, even after she tried to kill us. You work so hard to keep from listening to people—it’s because you’re a good person, a kind person.

“Maybe it
was
fate or God who brought us together. If it was God, and He has a plan for us and for your abilities like you think, then I’m just grateful. Because if I didn’t have you in my life…” He swept his hands over my hair and carefully held me still. “If we didn’t have this, I couldn’t go on. You are as essential to me as air and water. Never think I didn’t have a choice. I did, and I chose you. Every day, every minute, for the rest of my life, I choose you.”

He traced my lips with his finger. “You don’t have to be frightened. You’re not alone. Trust me.”

“I do,” I murmured. “How could I not? You have the most open, honest mind, and I know you mean everything you say. But if you ever want to change that mind—”

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