Kin (Annabelle's Story Part Two) (13 page)

There was also a negative aspect about today’s date. Although there was no need to remind myself of the repercussions of what that meant…

The blow of a horn and the rumbling of the approaching train saved me from yet another guilt trip. It skidded to a stop just a few feet to my left. With my head lowered, I hurried on and found a seat halfway up the train car.

Naturally, the old lady took the seat across from me, making sure to stare at me a smidge longer than was socially acceptable as she sat.

 

Before I knew it, we were on our way.

T minus twenty-nine minutes until I got off.

Thirty minutes to daybreak.

I couldn’t let my mind go there.

Instead, it drifted toward my parents. My heart went out to them. First I was taken and then a stranger showed up at their door dropping this bombshell that I wasn’t quite human. Now Lindsey was gone too. I wondered if another encantado had already knocked on their door to try to ease their fears. When I got home…

If I ever got home

… I’d make it up to them. I just didn’t know how yet.

The thought of home made me feel nostalgic. Yesterday, it’d dawned on me that it was New Year’s Eve, but, again, for a different reason. It was the first time I hadn’t called my parents after the ball dropped. Every year I went to the outskirts of wherever I celebrated to escape the noise and shout into the phone “Happy New Year’s!”

Not this year. And what would next year bring? Would Adrian and I be together? Would he ever meet my parents?

I couldn’t imagine saying, “Mom, Dad… this is my boyfriend, Adrian. A merman. The Prince of Tritonis.”

Shaking my head, I tried to get a grip on my thoughts but they went straight back to Adrian. When I first met him, he was this fun-loving, playful boy.

Well, I guess he still had those same jovial qualities, but there was more to him now. He seemed… older, more sure of himself. His newfound maturity impressed me. It came down to the fact that we both gained a lot of life experience in the past few days. And there was also his willingness to help me get to Lindsey. That part spoke volumes.

Now he raced back to the others to pick up the pieces. I hoped they were able to find another sprite that could breathe the water within Elfin Lake.

There had to be other fae besides the ones trapped inside.  As far as I knew, the Fae of Gwynedd could come and go as they pleased. Although from what Adrian told me, they didn’t tend to venture into the “human world” very often, leaving saltwater sprites with virtually no access to them.

But when it came down to it, I had faith in my friends. I had to, or else I was sure I’d fall apart. They’d find a way to open the trapdoor…

The opening of the train door brought me back to reality. One of the rail workers emerged from a connecting train car, sending my mind into overdrive on how I’d talk my way out of my ticket-less situation.

I was mugged.

I had planned to pay with credit card, while fully knowing they only took cash.

I lost my ticket.

I thought you could ride free on holidays.

I, um, would pay after I got off.

That last one was a rather poor defense. The best one, in my opinion, was a mugging. Perhaps that could account for my haggard appearance as well.

The starchiness of the ticket collectors uniform and his tight upper lip didn’t give me much confidence. He barely said two words to people before he ripped the ticket out of their hands.

I kept an eye on him as he worked, my attention switching to the window with every jerky movement he made.

One woman attempted to ask how many more stations there were before her stop. The attendant whipped his stoic face in her direction before answering, “One or two more.”

It was a response that did not bode well with the old lady I met on the platform. Before I knew it, she opened her mouth to berate him on his etiquette and how he was supposed to be providing a service.

That really set Mr. Personality off.

He marched right up to her aisle and gave her a piece of his mind. Apparently his job description did not include that of a tour guide.

Personally, I thought he was acting ridiculous, but this wasn’t the focus of my concentration. No, the wheels turned in my brain just like one of those scenarios where a light bulb appeared above my head.

In slow motion, I slivered toward the aisle. The ticket collector was never the wiser with his undivided attention on the old lady. By the grace of God, this left his back to me. Safely out of view, I quietly slipped behind him and into a row of seats where he’d already collected the tickets. I casually placed my bag next to me and leaned my head against the window, as if I’d been sitting there all along.

As I sat there unmoving, afraid to attract any attention, I reveled at the fact that something had finally gone right.

Could this mean the tides had turned?

I didn’t want to jinx it.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

The horn of the train once again signaled the approach of the station. I was already at the door; there wasn’t a second to lose. The sun wasn’t going to wait to rise. In fact, I cursed under my breath as a dusting of pink spread across the horizon.

To make matters worse… the door wasn’t opening. I had my palm pressed flat against the cold metal, my fingers tapping, my breath clouding the miniscule window, willing it to slide to the right. A few people had lined up behind me, eyeing me suspiciously at my hurried behavior.

“Push the button,” a young girl instructed.

Right.
I slammed my hand against the button and dashed forward through the growing gap. Once out on the platform I skidded to a stop. I knew I had to head toward the river but wasn’t certain which direction to take my next step.

Whirling around, I spotted the same girl. The intensity of my face startled her. “The River Thames. Which way?”

The poor girl had two reactions: her brow wrinkled and she hesitantly pointed to the north.

“Thanks.”

I was officially the insane American girl.

My bare feet slammed against the cool pavement. One slapping sound after another as I sprinted toward the bridge.

Just half a mile to go. Four minutes. Five minutes, tops.

Upon reaching the bridge, I bent to rest my hands on my knees and peered off to the right. I had a clear line of vision to the east straight down the river… where the sun didn’t just peek out anymore. It was officially daybreak. My heart sunk at the sight, but my legs kicked back into action.

I ignored the sting in my lungs from the cold air as I pushed myself harder and harder. Right as I leapt from the bridge back onto the sidewalk, I jumped again—this time through a row of trees into the grass.

Instantly, my knees buckled in the wetness and I slid to my stomach, smacking my chin hard against the ground. My teeth rattled as my body made contact.

Remembering moments ago how I felt the tides had turned now seemed like a tease. Still, I shoved my flippers back into my bag and scrambled to my feet, determined to get to the fountain. My next steps led me across the field, not bothering to stop as I trampled through a garden.

Straight ahead I saw the Hampton Court Palace in all its glory. Last year when I was here I stood in front of it in awe. It created a picturesque panoramic view. Just a year later, I didn’t even give it a second glance. Instead, I left the slick grass behind and merged once again with the sidewalk. In a matter of seconds, the final turn leading to the fountain was just a few steps away.

The sudden busyness of the street set a fresh wave of panic throughout my body. Fear that I was too late pulsed in my head. Between each passing car, the fountain stood off in the distance, mocking me. The light from the rising sun between the clouds danced across the golden statue of Arethusa.

Unable to wait any longer, I launched myself into the street. The honking of horns and screeching of tires barely registered as I darted toward Chestnut Avenue.

Here, there was no sidewalk. I ran down the left lane as if I were a car. Two football field lengths separated me from the water surrounding the fountain. My eyes remained glued to Arethusa as adrenaline coursed through my veins.

The road split to the right and left at the mouth of the water, creating a circle. Here, I took in the surroundings as my legs struggled to keep up. Behind the fountain a walkway extended upwards to yet another garden. But it wasn’t the landscaped yard or the clouds blocking the sun that caught my attention. A fresh wave of worry took hold of my heart at the scene just steps away.

I didn’t see anyone else there. I didn’t see Lindsey.

I reminded myself that I needed to stay positive. I repeated the thought on autopilot even as I threw myself into the pool surrounding the fountain.

The water splashed up, soaking my clothes once more. I didn’t care. With enlarged strides I raced toward Arethusa, my heels kicking outward with each step to clear the surface of the water. Once at the base of the fountain, I trudged around the perimeter of it while trying to catch my breath.

There was still no sign of my sister.

My heart ached, an actual throbbing sensation, as I completed a full circle around the fountain. I just stood there… back where I started… unmoving. A few cars passed, the sounds of the engines and tires barely registering in my mind. The fountain had been turned off for the winter months, leaving the water motionless until it’d one day be drained. Without my movement, the water made no sound, slowly stilling until it rested around my knees.

I turned in place a full revolution, once again disturbing the stagnant water. Tears blurred my eyes as I scoured the area. At some point, I moved my hand to my face, but I somehow overlooked the movement until I felt my cold palm against my eyes, then my forehead. It felt foreign, disconnected. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to save her.

The grief I felt zapped all my energy from my body. In response, I sunk into the water in one fluid motion, letting it envelop me.

It was odd, but it gave me a sense of calm as if it recharged me from the inside out. Before I knew it, my hand slapped against the water, sending a ripple toward the base of the statue.

I wouldn’t give up. I couldn’t.

At a crawl, I reached toward the fountain, climbing onto the first tier. There, I brushed the head of a frog statue and stepped onto the next tier. Determined, I took long strides to scale the last three tiers until Arethusa stood right above me. She appeared serene, yet heartbroken. On the lower tiers, statues of people reached toward her, looking as if they were desperate for her help. I was now one of them.

There was no other way to say it… I felt drawn to her. She stood there so elegantly. Two small children at her side. Draped in loose clothing. An outstretched hand, palm up.

I had taken a class that past year—Intro to Sociology—and this stance was something I remembered. Our teacher had said that a common listening gesture was just this: fingers extended with the hand rotated in an upward position.

Normally I’d feel foolish doing this, but right now desperation consumed me. After a deep breath, I spoke to her.

“Help. I really need help.”

It wasn’t like I expected a response. Still, I had to act, to do something, anything to keep myself from crumbling to pieces. The disappearance of my sister caused my own serenity to be lost. Looking for comfort, I laid my hand in Arethusa’s.

“I need to know that my sister is okay. I need to know what to do.”

I stood like that, with my hand in hers, for I don’t know how long. During my desperate plea to my kin, the distant sound from passing cars was all that reached my ears. The water was silent, no birds chirped in the nearby trees. I heard no other footsteps or morning chatter.

Then, a new sound brought my world down around me.

“You’re late.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

“Quite the dramatic entrance, Belles.”

Even in the thirty-five degree weather, heat rushed through my body at the sound of his voice behind me. My knees wobbled, my hands fisted.

I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, but ever so slowly, I turned to face him. Blake stood just beyond the water. Alone.

I chastised myself, and for more than one reason.

I should’ve known Blake was behind this. I felt foolish. I also felt my heart quicken just at the sight of him. That part made the foolishness strengthen. I hated that just seeing him could evoke that type of reaction.

It fueled anger behind my words. “Where’s my sister?”

Palms raised, he stepped into the water, not stopping until he stood a few feet from the base of the fountain.

As my teacher would have said, “This gesture provides a nonaggressive pose which suggests allies, rather than rival or foe.”

Well, screw that. “I said, where’s my sister? You sick bastard.”

“Hey, now. Belles, let me explain.”

“I don’t want you to explain. I want you to tell me where Lindsey is.”

“I’ll make you a deal. Just listen. Then, I’ll tell you where Lindsey is.”

“No, Blake. That isn’t how it’s going to go. You’re going to tell me where she is. And then we’re going to leave.”

“Sorry, Belles… but you’re going to play by my rules this time.”

My mind raced, weighing my options. All I cared about was getting to Lindsey. I didn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize that. On the other hand, I didn’t want Blake to mess with my head. He already burned me once… and bad.

He took a slow step toward me. “I’m waiting… what’s it gonna be? Are you going to come down from there and listen? Or should I just leave?”

I hesitated but eventually gave in. “Fine,” I said, jumping down a level from where Arethusa stood. When I asked her for help, this wasn’t quite what I had in mind. “I’ll give you five minutes. Then you need to keep up your end of the bargain.”

His body visibly relaxed, his arms dropping back to his side.

Blake had reached only a few paces away by the time I reached the bottom of the fountain. He attempted to take another step.

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