Shadowlands (Shadowlands (Hyperion)) (9 page)

But here in Juniper Landing, it was as if neither one of us even existed.

The wet suit was surprisingly comfortable, once all the neoprene had been stretched and adjusted and smoothed out. But thank god I had never been all that self-conscious about my body, because this thing showed every last curve of it. I stepped into the cool bay water and walked over to where Aaron was standing in a similar suit, though his was two shades of blue and modern, while mine was plain black and looked like something out of a 1950s spy movie.

“So. What do you think?” he asked, clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

I looked down at the red-and-white flowered windsurfing board, its sail waterlogged on the opposite side. It wasn’t until that moment that I felt the sheer force of the wind and heard it trying to rip a tunnel through my ear. Just a few yards out, the water was choppy and peppered with whitecaps. Off in the distance, I saw the top points of the bridge sticking out above the ever-present fog, which clung to the water just north of us even though the sky was bright blue over our heads. I felt a chill at the mere sight of the swirling mist.

“I think I might be insane,” I said.

A definite possibility after last night’s panicked fog episode and the humming I may or may not have heard on our porch. Not that I’d be telling him about any of that.

Aaron laughed and stepped onto the board like it was nothing. “You’re going to love it.” He grabbed a rope attached to the sail with one hand and held the other out to me. “We’ll go out together the first time, and once you see how simple it is, we’ll come back in and get you your own board.”

That idea was slightly less terrifying.

“Now get up here,” he said with a grin.

My heart pounding, I took his hand. He pulled me up and slid me in front of him. He bent down to the side and tugged on the rope until the sail slowly rose up out of the water. My feet slipped and I almost went down, but Aaron somehow steadied me against his chest while continuing to hoist the sail with both hands.

“Hold on to the sail and lean back into me,” he said, once it was up all the way. There was a bar in front of us, and I clung to it for dear life. He quickly grabbed a nylon rope and swung it around our waists, lashing us to each other and the mast. He was so self-assured and so quick I felt my pulse start to race.

“The three most important things are that you hold on to the sail, you keep leaning back, and you keep your feet as close to the mast as you possibly can,” he said in my ear. “I’m going to turn the board to get us going.”

“Okay.” I nodded, looking down at my feet. My toes were curled, gripping the slippery surface for dear life, and the muscles in my arches were already starting to ache. “Where did you learn to do all this?”

His arms and feet were both working, moving the board around beneath our feet. I stepped up and down, too, feeling every second like I was going to lose my balance and splat face-first into the water. But then, I supposed that would be another first.

“My father taught me,” he said. “We vacation every Christmas in St. Croix. My whole family windsurfs.”

“That’s cool,” I said.

I couldn’t imagine my whole family doing anything together. Well, anything other than running away from a serial killer. My heart thumped at the thought of Steven Nell, but as fast as I could, I shoved it aside. I didn’t want to be afraid. Not now. Right now I wanted to try something new. I wanted to be free.

The wind had just caught the sail, and all of a sudden we lurched ahead, headed out into the open bay. I pitched forward, but Aaron quickly locked his arms close to my sides, squeezing my shoulders to steady me, and I was able to right myself.

“Lean back!” he shouted to be heard over the wind. “Lean into me.”

I did as I was told, letting my body graze his.

“Not enough!” he shouted. “You have to trust me, Rory. Lean into me.”

I gulped down my fear, let my elbows relax, and leaned back. Instantly I could feel the difference. The board was more balanced and I felt ten times safer with my body against his.

“There you are,” he said. “Keep your knees bent so if the board jumps you can absorb the impact.”

I relaxed my knees. The board jumped and hopped, but it wasn’t long before I found the rhythm and we were moving together like pros. Or at least like we’d done this before.

“In a little bit, I’ll teach you how to tack, but for now, just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The sun was warm on my face even as the wind whipped my wet hair back from my eyes. Aaron had complete control of the board, and I relaxed just a bit on the sail. I gazed off at the horizon, taking in the blue sky, the diving seagulls, the salty tanginess of the water. We jumped a particularly big wave, and I let out a shout of joy, giving myself over to the ride.

An hour later, I staggered up the bay beach and dropped on my side into the warm sand. Every muscle in my body was jelly. My shoulders ached. My feet were on fire. My face was so windburned I was going to need a galloon of aloe. But I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

Aaron dropped, sprawled out next to me, and rolled over onto his back, letting out a satisfied groan.

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t the most fun you’ve ever had in your life,” he said, squinting one eye as he looked over at me.

I pushed myself up onto my quivering elbows and looked at our two windsurfing boards, which were being hauled out of the water at the shoreline by the rental crew.

“You’re right. I can’t tell you that,” I said.

I sat all the way up and tipped my head back to watch the clouds chase each other across the sky. Sand clung to every inch of my wet suit, and my face prickled with windburn, but I’d never felt better in all my life. I felt accomplished. I felt free. I felt alive.

“Thanks for bringing me out here,” I said. “I needed this.”

There were green and gold flecks in his brown eyes and a streak of sand stuck to his cheek. “Any time, Rory Thayer.”

My pulse stopped. Aaron was my new friend, and yet he didn’t even know my real name or anything about where I came from. But that was a good thing, I reminded myself. That meant I was safe. That he was safe. And as I lay there, the sun warming my body and the soothing honeysuckle-scented air enveloping my senses, I thought maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out okay.

As soon as my sneakered foot stepped through the door of the Thirsty Swan on Monday night, I wanted to turn around and go home. Every last one of the wooden tables was jam-packed with people and every person in the place looked to be twenty-five or younger. The music was loud, conversations were held at a shout, and every so often a raucous round of laughter would burst forth from some corner of the room. Three walls were completely made up of screen windows overlooking the bay, and the cool breeze circulated throughout the room, mixing the salty sea air with the scents of frying foods and spilled beer.

“This is awesome!” Darcy cried, watching as two guys at the bar raced through a set of shot glasses, each filled with a dark brown liquid.

“Actually, I think it’s kind of illegal,” I replied, as one of the guys woozily slammed his last shot glass down. Everyone around him cheered, including Fisher and Kevin. The kid looked to be about fourteen years old. I scanned the crowd for Aaron, but he was nowhere to be found. I’d mentioned it to him this afternoon, but apparently he was smart enough to avoid this particular scene.

“Rory!” Joaquin shouted from behind the bar. He leaned into the counter as we approached, and smirked. “I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

I felt Darcy stiffen next to me.

“Actually, I’m only here to be Darcy’s wingman,” I said. “You remember Darcy, right?” I added pointedly, gesturing at my sister.

“Loyalty. I like it,” he said, ignoring my dig. “Hey, Darce,” he said, lifting his chin at her. “Why don’t you guys have a seat?” He gestured toward three free stools at the end of the bar. Krista waved at us from the fourth, next to the wall.

“Hey, guys,” she said, patting the stool to her left. “Saved you a seat, Ror.”

Darce? Ror? Really? Hadn’t we just met these people?

I sat down next to Krista while Darcy took the stool at the far end, leaving one open between us. It made me feel conspicuous and awkward, which was probably what she was hoping for. Tristan was busy cutting limes at the back counter. In front of him was a huge mirrored wall, lined with long shelves full of liquor bottles. He didn’t say hello or even look up from his task. Joaquin turned sideways and slipped by him, then leaned one hand into the bar in front of me. His leather bracelet clung to his skin so tightly it looked uncomfortable.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

“Water, please,” I said.

“Whatever you have on tap,” Darcy responded, slipping off her leather jacket.

“You got it,” he said with a smile.

“You’re going to serve her?” I asked, surprised.

“Rory!” Darcy said, glaring at me.

Tristan looked over briefly, caught my eye, then went back to his limes.

“He serves everybody,” Krista said with a shrug. She looked like a supermodel in a colorful maxi dress, tasteful jewelry, and, of course, her leather bracelet. As if noticing my stare, she placed her hand over the leather band. “That’s our Joaquin.”

“Not my job to tell people what they can and can’t do,” Joaquin replied, filling a beer stein to the brim. “But I like that you have a healthy sense of morality, Rory.”

Krista smiled at this, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were making fun of me somehow. With a sigh, she withdrew a coin from her pocket and held it upright on the counter with the tip of her finger. As she flicked it to make it spin, I noticed it wasn’t any regular American coin. It was about the size of a quarter, but light bronze in color, and I wondered what country it came from. Were the Parrishes world travelers? I didn’t have time to see the etching, though, before it was rotating across the counter. Tristan glanced over and his eyes widened slightly. He slapped his hand down over the coin and slid it back to her.

“Don’t play with that,” he said through his teeth.

She rolled her eyes and pocketed the coin. “Was that the hundredth time you’ve told me what to do today, or just the ninety-ninth?” she quipped. Tristan ignored her and went back to his work.

I glanced at Darcy to see if she’d noticed the odd exchange, but she was too busy staring at Joaquin as he placed both our glasses down in front of us, then moved off to help someone else. Darcy sipped her beer, and I saw her trying not to wince. I forced myself not to roll my eyes and took a gulp of water.

“So have you guys been to the general store yet?” Krista asked, turning to lean back against the counter now. It was as if she was working herself through a series of preset poses.

“We went this afternoon,” Darcy replied, taking another sip.

“Oh! Too bad I missed you,” Krista said with a small pout. “I would have hooked you up with free ice cream.”

“You work there?” I asked.

“Yep,” she said, rolling her eyes again. “Mom insisted I get a job. Gotta keep up ap—”

Tristan tossed a towel at her face, where it clung to her hair and covered everything down to her mouth. She pulled it off slowly, turning bright red.

“Thanks a lot,
bro
,” she said sarcastically, whipping it back at him. He snatched it out of the air and gave her a warning look. “He thinks family matters should stay in the family,” she explained.

I glanced over at Tristan, whose face looked a bit pink, too.

“What’s up, guys?”

Olive slid onto the stool next to mine, filling the void between me and Darcy. “Can you believe this place?” Olive asked, smirking as a guy at the other end of the bar did a spit-take with his drink and everyone laughed. “It’s like spring break on steroids.”

As if on cue, a group of girls near the windows let out a resounding “Wooo-wooo!”

Olive and I locked eyes and cracked up.

“Hey, Olive.”

My heart warmed at the sound of Tristan’s voice.

“Hey, T,” she replied in a familiar way, adjusting the sleeve of her flowy black top.

“Hello,” I said pointedly, trying to highlight the fact that he hadn’t greeted me or Darcy yet.

He turned to gaze at me but said nothing. The blue of his eyes was a deep, almost Caribbean Ocean color, solid and flat, unmarked by variation or flecks. He wore a light blue Thirsty Swan T-shirt that showed off his chest muscles and brought out his dark tan.

“Can I get you anything, Olive?” he asked, still looking at me.

“You know me, T,” she replied, fiddling with a cocktail napkin. “Diet Coke, straight up.”

He gave her a small smile, the first I’d seen on him, and it changed his face completely. If possible, it made him even handsomer.

“On it.”

He turned away and grabbed a clean glass.

Olive nudged me. “So I’ve been thinking about this whole running thing, and I’ve decided to give it a try,” she said, standing up on the rung of her stool and reaching over the bar for a swizzle stick. She placed it between her lips and chewed on the end. “You wanna go with me tomorrow?”

“I’d love to go for a run!” Krista enthused.

“You don’t run,” Tristan said, placing Olive’s Diet Coke in front of her.

“But I—”

“Aren’t you working tomorrow anyway?” he asked.

Krista’s face fell, and she pouted again. “Fine,” she said through her teeth as Tristan moved away to fill a glass for another customer.

I gnawed at my bottom lip, considering. I hadn’t been out for a run since we’d gotten here, and I knew I’d never go by myself, not with the specter of Steven Nell hovering over me.

Still, beneath my stool, my feet bounced crazily, itching at the idea of a good workout. “Why not?” I said finally. “There’s safety in numbers, right?”

“Safety?” Joaquin asked, rejoining us. “What’re you worried about?”

My face flushed. Dammit. Why had I said that out loud? I shot Darcy a
save me
glance, but she was frozen, her lips on the rim of her glass. Tristan came over and slapped Joaquin on the back, but he paused when he noticed the tableau of me and Darcy in suspended
oops
mode and Olive, Krista, and Joaquin waiting for my response.

“Okay. What did I just walk in on?” Tristan asked.

“We were just going to find out why Rory’s worried about her safety,” Krista said as Joaquin leaned his elbows on the counter.

Darcy placed her glass down and cleared her throat.

“Oh,” Tristan said, a shadow passing through his eyes. “That sounds ominous.”

My heart pounded horribly.

And when you get where you’re going, you can’t tell anyone who
you really are or where you’re from or why you’re there,
Agent Messenger’s voice said in my ear.
For your safety and theirs
.

“It’s not. I just…I don’t like to run by myself,” I improvised, taking another gulp of water. “It’s always better to go out with a buddy.”

“But you said you liked to be Zen,” Olive told me. “You said that was what you loved about it.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” I said. I returned the glass to the counter with a clatter. “I just—I don’t know.” My whole body burned as everyone around me stared. God, I hated this. “Um, running around a strange place…not knowing where you’re going…it just seems smarter to have someone with you, right? I just…I…I just—”

“Rory, there’s nothing to worry about.” Out of nowhere, Tristan reached for my hand, placing his fingers on top of mine. I instantly went rigid. Darcy, Olive, Krista, and Joaquin all stared down at our hands, but Tristan didn’t seem to notice. His skin was impossibly warm, his fingertips comfortingly calloused, and his touch sent goose bumps up my arm. “Juniper Landing is practically the safest place in the universe. Honestly. Nothing bad ever happens here.”

I gazed into his eyes, breathless, and believed every word he said. Or at least, I believed that he believed it. My heart rate began to slow. When Tristan broke contact and swiped some lime rinds and napkins into a small garbage can, my fingers tingled where his hand had been. I had a sudden mental image of melting into him and was so startled by it I actually had to shake my head to clear it away.

Tristan grabbed up the garbage can and shoved it back under the counter. I got a clear look inside as he did so and felt a snap in my brain, like whiplash. Even though he’d just tossed debris in there, the garbage can was empty.

Olive narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you okay? Your face is bright red.”

Tristan wiped his hands on his half apron, like nothing was amiss.

“Oh, um. I’m fine. I’m just going to…run to the bathroom,” I fumbled, pushing off my stool. What I needed was a minute to collect myself. Not only was I the worst liar on the planet, but now, it seemed, I couldn’t even trust my own eyes.

I sidestepped a drunken staggerer and was weaving my way through the tables toward the screen wall, when abruptly the music on the jukebox changed. The dance tune that had been playing cut off abruptly, and suddenly a familiar, reedy tune filled the bar. “The Long and Winding Road.” I stopped moving. Stopped breathing.

“Rory Miller,”
someone whispered.

My heart turned to stone. I turned around. And around. And around.

“Rory Miller,”
the same voice whispered again.

Someone was saying my name. Except no one in Juniper Landing knew that name. To them I was Rory Thayer.

Suddenly, I was running through the woods, my neck wet with sweat, my heart pounding in panic. Darkness everywhere. A snap of a twig. A laugh. A horrible, horrible laugh.

Someone slammed into my shoulder.

“Ow!” I said aloud, crashing back to the present.

“Sorry,” some dude in a flannel shirt said sarcastically, looking me up and down like I was a freak.

My eyes darted across the room. Darcy still sat eyeing Joaquin longingly. Olive was making some kind of artwork on the bar with swizzle sticks and pretzels while Tristan stood with his back to me behind the counter, gazing intently at something I couldn’t see. Fisher and Kevin were leaning into the counter, whispering something to Joaquin. All at once, the three of them turned to look over at me, their expressions blank, and I quickly glanced away. There were kids in baseball caps, girls in tight skirts, a couple arguing near the bathroom. But nowhere, nowhere, nowhere was Steven Nell.

I stood there for a moment longer, listening. There was nothing. Nothing other than shouting, laughter, and that awful music. But when I glanced one last time at the bar, I saw Tristan watching me again as well, his eyes bluer than ever, staring at me like he knew every detail of my life.

Even my real name.