Paranormal Realities Box Set (39 page)

"Ribbit"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You say I act like I'm a toad, so I
thought I'd sound like one." His eyes bored into mine. "Maybe if
you'd kiss me, I'd turn into a handsome prince." Puckering his lips,
Keagan closed his eyes before waiting expectantly.

Thank God for those closed eyes.
Otherwise he might have seen the desire I knew must be showing on my face. I
cut off the feeling with a ruthless swing of my conscience club. If I had to
beat those stupid impulses of attraction to Keagan into submission, I'd do it.
Getting swept into his black hole was all kinds of wrong. And why was I so
attracted anyway? Keagan was mean to me and the intensity of his meanness had
only mounted over the last three years. Ever since I began dating Liam, in
fact.

"Stop that," I said, punching
his shoulder with the flat of my palm. "Everyone knows it's frogs that
turn into princes, not toads."

"Oh, right. But you know you want to
break out of the good girl mode and go wild. Why not with me? Just one kiss.
How 'bout it?"

"You've got every pretty girl in the
area panting after you. Why don't you leave me alone?"

"All those girls don't matter."
Keagan put a hand on my arm and the tingles radiated outward from his touch like
exploding fireworks. "I'm just using them to make you jealous. You're the
one I really want." The comment was nice but his quirky smirk and arched
brow taunted me.

"Sure," I said, slapping his
hand away.

"Okay, you caught me. I'm having
trouble traveling to my usual circle of girls since Dad cut off my access to
the family car keys. Of course, he gave Liam his very own pick-up." A
derisive curl formed on his lips. "I just saw an ad for a motorcycle in
the paper. I've probably got enough money saved to buy—"

"No," I cut in. "Not a
good idea. Those things are dangerous."

"You're worried about me? How
sweet," he said in a tone filled with sarcasm. "But I know how to
ride. I've been practicing on Dad's."

"I mean it. Promise me. No
motorcycles. Not even your Dad's."

He threw up his hands in a mock
surrender. "Okay, okay. I promise. I really wanted a car, anyway."
Keagan leaned in and ran the tip of his index finger along my jaw. He whispered
in my ear, "More room to maneuver in the backseat of a car."

"Hey." Liam shouted from the
field. He removed his helmet and threw it to the ground as he barreled towards
us. "Get your hands off her, dude."

When Liam reached us, he grabbed Keagan
by the shoulders and spun him away from me. Liam rammed his brother with arms outstretched
and Keagan staggered back a step, but didn't go down.

"You'll have to do better than that
on the field Friday night, little brother." Keagan sneered.

Liam's face contorted with rage and he
swung at Keagan.

"No," I screamed.

Keagan leaped to the right and away with
a laugh. Liam's punch failed to land.

"Weak, bro. You are so whipped
you're almost cream," Keagan said.

This only enraged Liam further and he
came after Keagan, tackling him. The two rolled on the dirt punching at each
other. The players on the field stopped their practice and were focused on the
fight, with hoots, whistles, and shouted encouragements.

"Beat his ass, Liam," Billy
Broaderick called.

"Keagan. Liam," I yelled.
"Stop it. Both of you."

Coach Dixon finally arrived and pulled
Liam off Keagan, with my boyfriend continuing to strain against the coach's
hold so he could get back to pummeling his brother.

"Knock it off or I'll make sure
you're suspended," the coach growled.

Liam stopped straining and the coach released
him.

He stood puffing and glowering at his
brother. "You're lucky the coach saved you, you sorry douchebag."

When I walked to Liam and hooked my arm
through his, Keagan took in my position and nodded as if he knew I'd just
signaled my allegiance. Guilt gnawed at me and I dropped Liam's arm. Why did I
feel guilty? I hadn't hurt Keagan with the gesture had I?

Keagan rose before brushing himself off
and turned to the coach. "For your information, you don't have the power
to get me suspended or anything else anymore."

"I was sorry to see you leave the
Academy, son," the coach said.

An angry fire lit Keagan's face.
"I'm not your son and I don't need your pity. Save your
sorry
for
Friday. You'll need it when the Hawks beat your cream puffs into the fake ground
of this shitty place."

Liam lunged for Keagan.

This time there'd be blood from both
brothers.

Grabbing Liam's arm, I fought to hold him
back. But then my eyesight faded, the sound of the surrounding voices muffled,
and a vision began. Like a nail shooting through my skull from a pneumatic gun,
the images moved through my brain in fast-motion and then slowed.

A football stadium loomed all around me,
but it was night and crowds packed the bleachers. Over the loudspeaker, the
announcer talked about this being the best game in the history of the two teams
and said something about the battle of the brothers. I realized a game was in
progress. Glancing to the right I saw the scoreboard lit with visitors: 20,
home: 14. The clock was stopped with one minute, twenty seconds left to play in
the fourth quarter. Liam stood on the field with number 33 on his uniform.
Keagan— at the position of linebacker—fidgeted with impatience in
the defensive line. The quarterback called a play and handed off to Liam. He
didn't get more than a few steps before Keagan hammered him and the two went
down.

Pain, breath-stealing in its intensity,
jolted through me as if I'd been struck.

Keagan bounced back up, leaping to his
feet. Liam stayed down, lying still with his head at an odd angle. Keagan drew
off his helmet. A gloating smile quickly fell from his lips and those taunting
eyes became anguished. Coach Dixon and others rushed from the sidelines but it
was hopeless. I knew what had happened. The excruciating ache in my neck told me
that Liam's had been broken.

Dead. Liam. Dead.

"Nooooooooooooo," I screamed,
keening. Falling to my knees, with my head buried in my hands, I wept.

Why was everyone staring at me?

"Tara." Keagan fell to his
knees beside me and put his arm around my shoulder. "What is it?"

Through bleary eyes I saw his face, brows
furrowed, his mouth compressed in a frown of concern.

"Get your hands off her," Liam
yelled. He grabbed Keagan's arm and jerked him back, practically tossing his bigger
brother to the ground. Then Liam turned to me as Keagan stood.

"Tara—" Liam began only
to be interrupted.

"Are you all right?" The coach
crouched in front of me. He started to place a hand on my chin, probably with
the intention of examining me, but I didn't want to take the chance of another
vision...this time of
his
death.

"Don't," I cried, reeling back
to evade his touch.

"Okay," he said, leaning away.
"But where's the pain? Is it your head?"

Keagan yelled at the field.
"Somebody get the school nurse and call an ambulance."

"She doesn't need a nurse or an
ambulance," Liam said, shoving his brother hard with a hand to the chest.

"Just because I suggested it?"
Keagan shook his head. "You really are pathetic, man."

"He's right. I'm fine." I
struggled to rise to my feet without touching anyone. My breath chugged in and
out. The air felt like gravel in my lungs. "There was a...a bee. It didn't
sting me. I'm sorry I overreacted but I'm really allergic."

"I didn't see a bee." Keagan
scowled, eyeing me up and down.

"If she said there was a bee, there
was a bee! A'ight?" Liam shouted getting up into his face.

"Now boys," the coach said.
"Calm it down or I'm going to have to call campus security."

"Call 'em," Liam said.
"They'll be too late to save this jerk."

Keagan didn't back away. He just stared
Liam directly in the eyes. When he spoke the words came out as a growl.
"You wanna fight bro? Let's go."

"Aghhhhhhhhhhh," I screamed.
"This arguing is driving me crazy. I can't take it."

The three of them—Liam, Keagan and
the coach—all turned to me in concert. The expressions on their faces
couldn't have registered more shock if I'd sprouted horns. Come to think of it,
my outburst was sort of like a fluffy bunny turning into a charging bull.

"Just go ahead and kill each other.
I can't stop you." My voice broke on the last word with the strain of the
volume and the emotion.

As they all continued to gawp at me, I
whirled and ran without really knowing in what direction. The only requirement
was to get away.

* * * * *

"It was horrible," I said.
"Liam lying there with his neck broken and then the two of them
fighting...I knew where it would end. With Liam dead."

As I spoke, head resting on our kitchen
table, my voice came out sadly muffled. But my grandmother heard. She reached
over from her seat opposite me and placed a hand on my shoulder. The
combination of patting and massaging didn't have its usual comforting effect.

"Oh honey. I'm sorry."

Sometimes I used to rail to my Gran about
why a banshee could never see anything but death. I couldn't foretell babies or
marriages or...well anything happy. Just another person's end. But bitching
about
my
talent
wouldn't change anything.

"Gran, what am I going to do?"
I asked, lifting my head.

"I know what you're feeling, Tara. Believe
me, I know," Gran said. "But there isn't anything you can do. It's
fate."

My head shook so hard the hair fell into
my face. "No. I saw Liam's death before. For seven years he's been fated
to die of old age. Now, suddenly, he's gonna die on Friday night?"

"Sometimes that happens. There's a
fork in the road." Gran smiled sadly. "He's passed over the fork and
his destiny's changed."

My phone pinged, signaling a text.
Pulling it out of the purse I'd dropped on the floor at my feet, I examined the
face and found a message from Liam: Cum2 dinA @ my hous 2nite. I promiS 2b gud.

Like lightning, another text followed.
This one was from Keagan: Won't promiS 2bgud but promiS no fyts w/bro or my
MFF.

Keagan's text almost made me crack a
smile. I knew the MFF was a less than polite reference to his father. For
Keagan that pledge was huge.

Keagan and Liam. The two brothers. Each
with a tragic future.

Placing the phone on the table, I glanced
up at Gran. "If Liam's fate could change, then it can change back. I can do
something to change it back."

"What?" Gran asked.

"I don't know," I said.
"But I can't be responsible again for someone I care about dying. I just
can't."

"What do you mean
again
? Who do
you think you're responsible for?" Confusion knit Gran's brow.

Silence blanketed the room for long
seconds until I could force out a sound. "My parents," I whispered.

"Oh sweetheart." Gran rose from
her chair and then pulled me up and into a tight hug.

Blinking back the tears, I allowed the
words to spill out. "I saw what would happen. But I didn't stop
them."

"You weren't responsible for your
parents. There was nothing you could do about that accident."

"I tried. I told them, but they
didn't believe me."

"That was more my fault than
yours." Gran patted my back. "I should have told your mother about
the family gift. But I thought, since it would skip over her, she didn't have
to be troubled about it."

"I coulda tried harder to convince
them," I said, leaning into her soft neck. The scent of her lavender soap
enveloped me just as her arms did.

"Even if you had convinced them, it
wouldn't have changed anything. If they'd believed you, what would they have
done? Never drive a car again? Don't you think I've tried to change fate in my
seventy-two years? No, honey," she insisted with a little shake. "And
what if you did change Liam's future? How would that change other events? Pull
on one string and the whole fabric unravels, maybe? Perhaps someone else
dies?"

What did I care about that amorphous
someone else? I needed to save my boyfriend. "There has to be some
way."

"Your parents' fate was not in your
hands and neither is Liam's."

Not in my hands? Maybe not right now, but
that didn't mean I couldn't try to grab onto Liam's destiny and tug like hell.
But if I tried and I failed, his death really would be my fault.

Did I have the courage to take that
chance?

* * * * *