Gray (Awakening Book 1) (9 page)

“Looks like you and me are in the same boat, but I don’t get the garlic toast. I get chickpeas and raisins, just what a growing boy needs.” Ben rested his arm on the back of the seat as he looked over at me. “I do have a stash of frozen pizzas though, so it’s not all bad,” he shook his head disgustedly.

I picked up my bag from the floor next to my feet. “Oh, I have a stash which I make a point to eat in front of Kassia so she sees that not everyone can live on greenery alone.”

We got out of the truck at the same time, but Ben walked around to my side and leaned back against the fender. “We skated around it pretty well,” he said, his eyes turned down.

I raised my brows. “Skated around what?” I asked, entirely baffled.

“The fact I’m idiot enough to believe Micah when he promises he’s not going to text London before we go somewhere. The fact if I get in one more fight, they’re going to kick me out of school. The fact Paul knows that and shows up to try and piss me off enough to fight so I will get kicked out.”

“Why would we talk about any of that, Ben? It’s over and done with.”

He grimaced. “It’s not though, because Paul and London will keep coming at you, all because of me,” he said and rubbed at his ear, his eyes turned down.

“Ben, you really are a nice guy, but you’ve got a massive God-complex,” I said, amused when he gave me a look of bafflement. “Do you really think it’s your fault how much those two hate me?”

Ben stared at me for a few humming seconds, then shook his head. “I used to be just like them, maybe worse, so it does kind of feel like it’s my fault.”

I shook my head. “It’s not. Actually, I’m grateful you were hanging out with them tonight just as a witness. I’d bet anything Paul would have said I attacked him,” I said, though wished to go back in time and at least break his nose or something.

Ben grimaced. That vein next to his eye began to throb yet again. “I—”

“Ben, if you apologize for what he did again, I might reconsider our friendship.”

He turned his lips up in a halfhearted attempt at a smile, then stood straight and took my bag. He walked with me to the door, his expression a little lighter. “Wouldn’t want that.” He offered the bag back to me as we stopped by the front door.

Everything inside me had wholly and fully come to peace. “Since we’re being so apologetic, I don’t remember if I thanked you for bringing the box of—” I began, but broke off as the front door opened.

I glanced over, surprised to see the Chief there, glaring at Ben as though he had done something heinous. I had never seen the Chief give anybody that kind of look. It made him look just like the bear I had always imagined him as.

“Hey, Chief,” I said in a bright voice, but a shiver moved its way up my spine for some reason. That was not the man I had known all my life and loved like family. That was someone I didn’t want to know in the least.

“Shayla, come inside,” he said gruffly, but kept his eyes fixed on Ben.

I didn’t move. I stood and stared at him. That look in his eyes made me think of a nightmare I’d had.

The Chief looked the same as he always had, but an image came into my mind of a man with the same coloring as me, a blood soaked crown on his head. The look on that nightmare creature’s face was just like the Chief’s was, like he wanted nothing more than to kill. No. I couldn’t allow that. I wouldn’t.

“Shayla?” Ben asked, his brow lined by worry as he took my arm.

“Step away from her now, boy,” the Chief snarled. He puffed his barrel chest out even further.

I heard a sound from the direction of the driveway, but couldn’t look. I had to keep my eyes on the bear who had once been like a grandfather to me. Was he that creature I had dreamed about? Could I have seen the Chief in my missing years? Could he be something my mind had blocked out?

No. It couldn’t be. The Chief was like family. I would not allow myself to think anything like that. I had to stop. I had to.

Ben didn’t step away from me, but pulled his hand back, his eyes fixed on me. “Shayla, you alright?”

My breaths were quick and short. My hands shook so hard I dropped my bag. Something inside me screamed at me to run.

The air called out. It wanted to push the Chief away. I wanted to ask it to, but that felt so very wrong, cowardly, in fact.

“Chief?” a voice asked from behind me. Kassia. Thank God. She was there. She would know what was going on.

She stepped up next to me, her eyes moving over our little group. I couldn’t look away from the bear.

Kassia wrapped her hand around mine and guided me back to sit on the pretty stone bench just next to me, her eyes too fixed on the Chief. “There a reason you’re in my house, Chief?” she asked, her voice so cold it made me shiver.

“No one was talking to you, Kassia. Go inside and be quiet,” the Chief demanded, his eyes still fixed on Ben furiously.

The stone of the bench was like a caress to my system. Stone. It was my friend. It didn’t matter what the Chief did. The stone would never let anyone hurt me, Kassia or Ben.

My sister stepped back to sit on the bench next to me, that type of defiance something I remembered her getting in trouble for when she was young. “That your truck, Ben?” she asked with a nod toward it, apparently to shut the Chief out of the conversation. It was a small, but deliberate slight.

Ben stood still for a moment like he wasn’t sure what to do, but slowly nodded. “It was my dad’s actually. I helped him restore it when I was little,” he said, his voice quiet as he looked at my sister.

“You guys did a nice job. That thing is gorgeous,” Kassia said with a nod.

“Yeah, my dad—”

“I thought I told you to leave,” the Chief growled at Ben. He took a step closer as though to intimidate him into obeying.

“Yes, but this is not your house, Chief. Looks to me like Ben and Shayla were hanging out, so if anybody has the right to tell Ben to go home, it’s Shayla, not you.” Kassia stood up, her arms folded as she stared the Chief down.

“I should probably get going,” Ben said warily, but turned his eyes to meet mine. “And by the way, I do know some about Norse mythology,” he said with a motion to the fallen bag. “You dropped Loki’s son.”

I stared at him, then my lips turned up in a smile. He was right. Jormungand was Loki’s son in the legends. It was okay. There was nothing wrong. I was on the porch of my house with my sister, the Chief and a guy who was pretty fabulous. There was nothing for me to be afraid of. “Remind me to ask Odin why he—”

“Shayla, for once in your life, shut up,” the Chief roared. He advanced on Ben as though he planned to lynch him.

I rose and darted around my sister to place myself between Ben and the Chief. I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was mad. “It was nice of you to drop by and make us all feel warm and fuzzy, Chief. See you later.” I waved like a little girl saying goodbye. The air, stone and water around me sang. It was ready to do anything I asked. I was ready too.

The Chief’s face turned ashen. His shoulders hunched in, almost like he was afraid of me, then he turned and stormed away as though he planned never to come back.

I had no idea what to make of any of it. Something about the entire situation seemed wrong in some way. Why would the Chief have such a profound dislike of Ben, or act like Kassia was nothing but a nuisance to him . . . or look at me like I was . . . dangerous.

I wasn’t dangerous. I was an ordinary human girl. That had to be the truth, or what was I?

It made me smile from ear to ear as I walked toward the cafeteria a few days later. It had been a great day and it would be a great afternoon, I was absolutely positive. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

So much optimism usually set me up for misery, but I was too happy to worry about future unhappiness. Everything had gone right for me in the last few days and everything would continue to go right, I had no doubt at all.

“Hey there, sweetie. You sure look happy.”

I wanted to groan when London stopped next to me. A bit of my happiness faded the second I heard her voice. I wouldn’t let her see what affect she had on my mood, so walked on in hopes to find Francis before my head exploded with irritation at London.

She stepped closer to me and bumped her hip into my side as though we were friends or something. “It’s just been so great having you back here, Shayla. I missed you like crazy.” The lie showed clearly in her overenthusiastic words and the cold look in her eyes.

I didn’t respond. I was about to have the high school equivalent of a shiv thrust into my gut, there was no doubt in my mind.

“Oh and Ben’s party is just going to be the best. Last year me and him hooked up at his party. That boy is amazing.” She fanned her hand as though to cool herself off at the memory, then gave me a sly look. “I bought this sexy mermaid costume to wear. He just loves stuff like that,” she nodded like this was supposed to make me happy as well. “I am so ready to get my hands on him again.”

I recalled the look on Francis’ face as we’d discussed probably the same mermaid costume. I couldn’t wait to see his expression when he saw London in it. I didn’t like the idea of watching London and Ben hook up, but it was none of my business. If he was that stupid and shallow, it didn’t matter to me.

London placed her hand on my arm and pulled me over to the side as though to share some secret. “You might think he’s into you, but he’s not. Me and him are royalty in this school and you . . . you’re just a novelty. I don’t want to see you get hurt, sweetie,” she said quietly, then turned to walk away.

I rolled my eyes at her retreating back. Why was it that everybody thought every guy friend was someone I wanted to hook up with? Why was that important to everyone other than me?

The only thing I wanted was to make it through the strangeness of my life with friends around to have fun with. If they were girls or guys, I didn’t care. All I wanted was distractions. Okay, sort of.

Ben was a seriously hot guy and very sweet, but I was broken. I would never inflict myself on anybody when there was so much doubt in my mind on . . . well, my humanity.

Something was wrong with me, wrong with the world around me. I had to face it, whatever it was.

Could it be that I was insane? Could everything I had forgotten about the past eight years have eaten a hole in my head, making my sanity leak out? Could any of my strange dreams possibly be reality?

“Hey.”

I glanced over, a little startled to see JJ in front of me in the lunch line. Jeesh. I hadn’t even paid attention to anything. What was wrong with me? “Hey, JJ,” I said, relieved to have even his quiet interruption from the thoughts which made no sense.

“I like your piece,” he said, his eyes fixed on the floor between us.

“Piece?” I asked, not at all sure what he meant.

JJ flicked his eyes to meet mine full on for the first time. “I’m in the art class just after yours. Your painting is . . . amazing. The colors and textures are . . . really cool,” he faltered out.

I grinned, my mind suddenly filled by the painting. “That image has been haunting my dreams lately, so I figured if I put it down on canvas, maybe it would be exorcised from my mind.” I gave him an appraising look. I hadn’t paid much attention before, but there were flecks of paint on his hands and his notebooks were covered by intricate designs which mesmerized me instantly.

“My mom says art is cathartic,” he said, a small smile at the corners of his mouth, apparently over some private joke.

“I’m pretty sure your mom is a genius.” I was pleased to be there with him. He seemed to be the exact opposite of London and those differences between them made JJ even more fabulous in that moment.

“I’ll tell her you think so,” he said, his eyes turned down again, his voice quiet enough I could hardly hear him.

I had seen JJ do that several times and each time it was because somebody else had walked by. I turned and smiled to find both Francis and Ben walking up. Neither of them looked very happy at all. “Hey look! We’ve got Grumpy and Dopey in the house,” I said in a baseball announcer kind of voice.

Francis’ lips quivered up in a smile. “Which one am I?” he asked a little peevishly.

I grinned and nudged JJ. “I don’t know if I want to share that little detail,” I said, in hopes he would at least partially participate in my joke.

JJ looked like he wanted to run away, but instead he turned his lips up in a very small smile and shook his head. “They look more like Abbott and Costello to me.”

Ben smirked, then looked at Francis. “Who’s on first?” he asked, that smile not quite amused, but he had tried. I would give him that.

Francis pretended not to have heard, but stepped forward to stand next to JJ, then started to talk at him without a pause to see if he had anything to say.

I grimaced, irritated with him, but more irritated by the images of London and Ben which came into my mind.

He had told me he had been a very different person, but I never would have imagined him to be so different he would truly go for a girl like London. But no. That wasn’t fair. We had only been friends for a few days. I had no right to judge which girls he dated, or what he did with them.

I tried to give him a normal smile, but those images in my head would not stop. “Who IS on first?” I was desperate to get back some of my happiness from a few minutes before.

“You’re right. He is,” he responded, that crooked grin of his back in place.

I stood for a moment, then an old memory washed over me. It was of my dad and Kassia repeating those lines, the smiles on their faces like a warm embrace to me. “I had forgotten that.” I shook my head. “My dad loved—” but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stand around and talk about my dad. I didn’t have the strength to deal with the sorrow which would fill me if I did. “Did you get a costume?” I asked with a prayer he would play along, allow the subject to change.

He gave me a look so much like one his mom had given me that I felt warm and comfortable all at once. “I was hoping you could help me out with that, actually,” he said, apparently understanding my need of a subject change.

“If you’re looking for the back end to a horse costume, you’ve got the wrong girl.” I grinned and the screams in my head faded to nothing. Who cared if I was an ordinary human girl? I had good friends and fun planned. I didn’t need anything else.

Ben chuckled, but shook his head. “Actually, I couldn’t find anything I liked, but I did find this face paint,” he said, a hopeful look on his face. “Think you could turn me into something cool?”

I gave him a long look, then slowly nodded. “I think you’d make a good wolf and I got some blood as well, so we’ll make you a man-killer.” I tapped my finger to my lips, my head tipped back so far to look at him, it was probably a little comical. “One problem.”

“What’s that?”

I brought my hand to the top of my head, then moved it forward to his armpit. “I’m a tiny bit shorter than you,” I said and the happiness which had been mine a few minutes before came back in full force. God bless Ben Connelly.

He rolled his eyes at me. “You’re right Shayla, I never sit down, so there’s no way this could work.” His crooked grin made me feel a tiny bit fluttery for some weird reason.

I stretched to reach the top of his head and patted it like he was a dog. “Why do we need a chair? I’ll just cut you off at the knees or something,” I said and turned to pick up a tray for my food.

“Are you threatening me, Shayla?”

I smiled, but it was difficult. Something was wrong. I could feel it. Something had changed.

I turned my eyes around the cafeteria. My hands jerked as I saw a figure not far from me. The spear of Odin tattooed on his forehead seemed to point out that the truth was all around, in all the elements. The world around me started to get dark. The smells of food changed to limestone and earth.

Breathe. All I had to do was breathe. I couldn’t hold my breath. I had to breathe deep and even.

I took in a long breath, then let it out slowly and nodded as calmness washed over me. I could do this. I had to.

I opened my eyes, everything inside me focused on using two elements at once. The stones hovered above the ground in a neat row. They wanted to do more for me, but I had to focus. One thing at a time.

The air was cool and damp, so I asked the moisture to come together, move toward the stones. Small drops began to form, then floated in the direction of the stones. Focus. I couldn’t allow my concentration to waver.

Something bumped my arm and suddenly, everything began to fall. The stones cascaded along with the drops of water until I was buried to my waist.

“A little help?” I asked, baffled about what could have broken my concentration.

The Black King loomed over me, his arms folded as he glowered. “You weak little fool. One small distraction and all your efforts are wasted.” He reached down to take hold of my arm and yank me out of the pit he had made me work in. He didn’t release my arm, but shook me hard. “My mother put so much faith in your abilities. She was certain that saving you from the slaughter by the White elves was so important . . . and this is what we have to show for our efforts. A pathetic little girl with no more magic than she had as a child.”

I wanted to argue, but knew better. He was in a mood, so I’d have to be careful. I had to know what he had meant though. “What do you mean? Were the White killed, or did they kill someone?” I asked, my arm numb from the way he held me up.

He set me on the ground and motioned to the stones. “You have work to do. Master your elements, or you will have no food.”

“Wait, Gerik. Please. What happened?” I asked and took a step after him.

He whirled around and backhanded me so hard, I hit the wall of the cave. He didn’t stop, but took the strap he had slung over his shoulder for just such occasions and whipped it across my back like he had done so many times before.

Pain. It was all I knew. Torment, because I had asked a question. Why did he hate me so much? How could I endure another moment of such torture?

He stopped after some time and turned me back to face him. He slammed me into the cave wall. “My brother was a fool to mate with your mother. A weakling White elf princess and the great Black elf prince, but THIS is what their union made?” He wrapped his hand around my throat and squeezed. “You will have three days in the chains with no food or water and if you ever question me again, you will be given to the Lindworm as his new bed-mate.” He flung me to the ground. “Dorian, take your little pet to the chains,” he demanded and walked away with the rest of his men. All of them chuckled like they seriously enjoyed watching him wail on me.

I did everything in my power not to scream, or cry, or even think about how much Gerik deserved to die. I just focused on breathing. Inhale. Exhale. That was all.

“Come, Gray One,” Dorian said quietly, his hand held out between us.

Slowly, I laid my hand in his and with the calm he always gave me, the elements answered my call. The stones rose. The moisture in the air formed into drops and weaved around the stones. The air lifted us both off the ground. Peace was the key.

Dorian didn’t acknowledge my use of magic, but laid his hand on my cheek. He used his power to transfer my wounds to his body before he asked the water in the air to heal him. It was a fascinating process to watch, despite how I hated to see him endure the pain the Black King had given me.

“You are his greatest fear, Gray One. You are heir to the throne, but he does not have either the right, or the power to dispose of you. After your awakening, you will be phenomenally more powerful than he is. That is why he treats you in such a way.”

That wasn’t news to me. I knew how Gerik hated anyone who may be able to challenge his authority. Since Dorian and I both had the potential to do him serious damage, he had made a point to punish and belittle both of us as often as possible.

“Dorian, can you tell me what he meant? Are the White elves okay, or did they attack someone?”

He looked away from me and began to lead me to the chains. “The woman you call your grandmother in the human world was placed there to guard your family. There is nothing for you to worry yourself over, Gray One. The Black Queen chose to save you, to raise you and train you as one of her own. That is the only thing of consequence.”

I gasped in a breath of air. Elves. I truly was an elf. That was why Dorian called me Gray One. I was half Black elf, half White elf. Dorian. He had known the truth, but had never told me.

Everything inside me wanted to scream, to rant and rave, to tell him what a jerk he was. He had allowed me to believe my family was whole and alive. Why hadn’t he told me? Had White elves killed my family? Why?