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Authors: Imogen Rose

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Young Adult

Fusion

BOOK: Fusion
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Contents

FUSION (Portal Chronicles Book Five)

Text copyright © 2013 by Imogen Rose

Website: imogenrose.com

Cover photograph and design by Imogen Rose

Cover photo copyright © 2013 by Imogen Rose

All rights reserved by Imogen Rose. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

First Edition: March, 2013

A dreamer must dream

A storyteller must tell

I dream to tell

A STORY FOR LAUREN

Prologue

I
t was like I was looking in the mirror. There was just one little difference—my reflection was not separated from me by silver-coated glass. She could have been my twin, except I didn’t have one. No, she was me.

“You okay, Poppet?”

David’s soothing voice snapped me out of my transfixed state. “I guess. This is just so weird. Is she like a whole different person? Does she know about me?”

“Weird is right. Like I told you before, I haven’t told her about you. She doesn’t even know that I’m a Wanderer. She thinks I’m just a regular guy—”

I burst out laughing. “A regular guy? Really, David? You were never a regular guy, even before all the Wanderer stuff!”

He smiled. “What do you mean?”

I shrugged. He had always been extraordinary at everything he did.

“Ready to go back?”

I looked over at the rink again, my eyes drawn back to Arizona Stevens. Was she real? I felt a strong urge to touch her, just to make sure.

“Nope.” I slithered out of his grip and made a run for her.

Y
our bedroom is a refection of your personality, aspirations, and dreams. It’s a place for many activities, but primarily it’s a cave optimized for relaxation. It’s an intimate personal hub, housing the necessary and treasured objects that define you.

Right now, I felt like a stranger in my own bedroom—in the room that I’d lived in for as long as I could remember, a room that I had decorated to feel like
me
. But it didn’t feel like me anymore. It wasn’t like it had been totally redecorated or anything, and nothing was missing as far as I could tell. It was small things—like the way my jewelry box had been shoved to the corner of my dressing table and perfume bottles knocked over, as if they were a nuisance rather than my treasures. I picked up the powder-blue leather jewelry box—a Christmas gift from Maria, one that I had pointed out to her during a visit to Pottery Barn—and carefully placed it where it was supposed to be, just to the left of the mirror. On a whim, I flipped open the lid and peeked at the contents.

Hey! What was this? I picked it up and ran my finger over the leather—croc. Now this was the kind of unfamiliar I could get used to in a hurry. I sighed with admiration at the drool-worthy amethyst crocodile-leather Hermès CDC bracelet. I put it on and turned to the full-length mirror, the silver from the cuff shining back at me. I struck a pose and smiled at myself. Score!

Then, focusing away from the silver studs, I glared at myself and sighed. I didn’t feel like me anymore. My body felt different, like my muscles had been randomly rearranged. My shoulders seemed abnormally big. Ugh. What was with all these muscles? I flexed my arms—Sheesh! I was starting to look like a linebacker. These shoulders… and thighs. Maybe all the stories about me having taken up ice hockey were true. I burst out laughing. Pffft!

The doorbell rang for the second time, and I could hear impatient banging noises from downstairs. Kellan must have forgotten his key. He was supposed to pick me up and take me to the game—I was ready and raring to head over to meet up with the rest of the cheer squad. However, it was still early, and we didn’t have to be at school for at least an hour. I ran down the stairs and flung open the door preparing to smooch Kellan.

And stopped short. Looking up, I felt a chill and took a step back, afraid of the silver eyes staring back at me. After all the stuff that had happened in the past few days, I should have known better than to have opened the door without checking who it was. Just as I took another step back, ready to close the door on the strange-looking boy—man, I guessed he was around twenty or so…

“Hey,” he breathed. His calm, husky voice made me stop and look up at him.

As soon as my eyes met his again, I trembled, feeling vulnerable and half naked in my cheer outfit.

“Well?” His cold breath hit my skin unexpectedly, making me goosebump all over.

“I’m sorry, what?” I shivered, having not taken in a single word he’d said.

He arched his brows and ran his fingers through his frost-tipped hair. “Is Rupert Darley at home?” He looked down at his iPad. “This is the right address, isn’t it?”

“Yes, who are you?”

“Jagger Deveraux. Spencer Darley sent me.”

“Oh. Okay.” If Granddad had sent him, he must be legit. “He’s not home right now. Is he expecting you?”

“Where is he? My matter is urgent.”

My matter? I stifled my giggles. He talked like Mom, and well, she was ancient. “I’m not sure. I can call him and find out.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I heard the familiar sound of Dad’s bike roaring up the driveway. “Here he is.” I smiled at the stranger—Jagger—wondering if his parents were Rolling Stones fans.

“Hey, Arizona.” Dad got off his bike and walked toward us, checking out Jagger.

“Hey, Dad. This is Jagger De—” I looked at Jagger for help, blanking on his last name.

“Deveraux. Are you Rupert Darley?”

“Yes.”

“Spencer Darley sent me. May I have a word in private?”

I blinked at Dad, hoping he’d get the hint. Private? He ignored me, turning to Jagger.

“Of course. Please follow me.” He ushered Jagger into the house and then toward his study. He stopped abruptly and turned around, looking me up and down. “Arizona, are you cheering today?”

“Yes, game starts at five. You coming to watch?”

He rubbed his chin, looking pensive. “Are you sure?”

“Sure? Yeah, definitely five. Why?”

“I don’t mean about the time but about wanting to cheer.”

“Huh?”

He shook his head. “I need to talk to you, but let me deal with this first. I’ll drive you over.”

“Kellan is driving me.”

Dad pursed his lips. “I’ll come and find you once I’m done talking with Mr. Deveraux.”

“Jagger. Please, call me Jagger.”

Dad held open his study door as Jagger disappeared into the room and then closed the door behind them. I was tempted to put my ear to it and listen in.

So I did. Not that I could hear much. Just muffled mumblings.

“Arizona!” The door suddenly swung open, and I almost fell sideways onto the floor—saved by Dad’s arms, as I scrambled to regain my balance. I hoped to God that I hadn’t flashed Jagger. I glanced at him, red-faced. He smirked. Well, at least I now knew he had more than that deadpan expression he’d walked in with. I couldn’t help rolling my eyes at him.

After making sure I was steady, Dad let go of me, raised his left eyebrow, and threw me the death glare. “Well?”

Sometimes it really sucked having a paranormal parent. Any normal person wouldn’t have noticed me behind that door. I had been super quiet. So, I decided to go for the guilt trip. It had worked well in London. “I feel left out—”

“Oh, no!” He laughed. “That’s not going to work again. Off you go, I’ll talk to you later.”

I twirled around and marched out the door, hearing it click firmly behind me.

I wondered what that was all about and why I was so nosy all of a sudden. Not that I wasn’t at the best of times, but Jagger had raised my Parker level to the max. Probably hitting a ten!

Aww—nosy Parker! My mind flooded with flashbacks of Harry laughing when he’d caught me rummaging through his closet for my eighth birthday present. I’d stared at him blankly when he declared that I had a Parker score of nine. He explained that he’d made up the nosy 1-10 scale and named it after Jane Parker, the nosiest woman in Henry VIII’s court. I had never heard of her at the time, but it all made sense when we finally covered medieval English history in school.

What was with the silver eyes? Probably just contacts, but boy, were they freaky in an annoyingly hot way. I got to the kitchen as Mom and Ella walked in, closely followed by Tallulah, who jumped up and down for me to pick her up. I considered it. Much as I disliked dogs, this little Chihuahua puppy was kind of cute and looked totally harmless.

“Tallulah! Come here!” Ella commanded in her best teacher voice. Tallulah immediately scampered off to be scooped up and cuddled. Ella cocked her head and raised her eyebrows at me. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“Arizona?” Mom looked puzzled as well.

“There’s a game this afternoon…” I paused. “What’s the matter? Has it been cancelled?” They were beginning to freak me out with their wide-eyed stares.

“Ella, get Tallulah some water and a treat.” As soon as Ella disappeared around the corner, Mom turned to me, her face set in a serious mask. “Are you sure you’re ready to jump right back into it?”

BOOK: Fusion
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