I stared up at the sliver of moonlight. I hadn’t let my eyes change to break the darkness, if only to keep her parents from freaking out if they came downstairs. They didn’t seem to know much about dehaians, and the sight of my glowing eyes would probably only serve to make them think me more of a monster.
A sigh escaped me. As infuriating as it felt, in all honesty the ignorance was mutual. My whole life, I’d never heard of landwalkers. Or greliarans, for that matter. But then, my education had never touched on anything mythological. Dad hired tutors to teach us about politics and what we’d need to run the nation of Yvaria, not what I suspected he viewed as children’s tales. The few times my grandfather, Jirral, had even
tried
telling us stories outside the ‘real’ world, Dad had stopped him, insisting that we only fill our heads with what was necessary for leadership of our people and survival.
A fact which would seem ironic, if it wasn’t so painful.
I glanced to the kitchen as a small noise from the refrigerator broke the quiet. Tired as I was, I couldn’t sleep. Everything felt too strange. I’d never stayed in a house at night before. I’d scarcely even been inside one. Dehaians didn’t really like to go where we couldn’t smell the sea air, reminding us as it did of the possibility of being trapped away from the ocean.
And now here I was, well over a thousand miles from the water.
I shifted on the flannel sheets, pushing the thought aside. I didn’t know what would trigger the pain of the ocean’s distance returning, or even if anything would at all, but I didn’t want to risk it.
The memory was bad enough.
A creak came from the stairs. I glanced over.
Footsteps crept down the hall.
“Zeke?” Chloe whispered.
I sat up, the darkness vanishing as my eyes changed.
Chloe stood at the entrance to the living room in a t-shirt and cotton shorts much like she’d worn that first night I’d spoken to her on the beach. A relieved expression flashed across her face at the sight of my eyes, and her own took on an emerald glow as she crossed to the couch.
“You okay?” I asked as she sat down.
Chloe nodded. “Just… couldn’t sleep.”
I waited. Something in her voice made it seem like more than just nightmares keeping her awake.
She glanced to me. “You doing alright?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
She nodded again, dropping her gaze to her folded hands.
A heartbeat passed.
“It’s so weird being back,” she said quietly. “I thought after all the craziness of the past few weeks, it’d be normal somehow, but instead it’s like… like the world turned at this funny angle when I wasn’t looking and now I can’t fit inside it anymore.”
I hesitated, not sure what to say.
She caught sight of my expression and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she sighed.
I put my arm around her. A tiny smile pulled at her lip as she leaned her head against my shoulder.
“You mind if I stay down here with you?” she asked.
I chuckled. “Mind?”
Her smile grew.
I shifted around, lying back on the couch again. She curled up beside me, her cheek on my chest and her leg resting on mine.
A breath left her as I wrapped my arms around her. Straying up my skin, her fingers brushed my neck before settling on my chest as well.
“I’m going to miss you when you go,” she whispered.
My arms tightened on her, holding her close. “I don’t want to think about that yet.”
She nodded.
Silence fell back on the room, but for the hum of the refrigerator and the soft noises from bugs outside. My eyes drifted shut as I breathed in deep the smell of her hair, which still carried hints of salt and the sea.
I felt her move away and I opened my eyes.
Surprise hit me. It was morning.
“Shh,” Chloe whispered to me.
And then she fled across the room to the kitchen.
I didn’t have long to be confused.
Bill came around the base of the stairs. Wearing flannel pants and a cotton t-shirt, he looked like he’d just woken. He paused at the sight of me, a wary sort of suspicion in his eyes, and then continued into the living room. His gaze swept the space, finding Chloe.
Keeping her back to him, she was busy with taking a bowl from the cabinet. A box of something sat on the counter next to her, and as I watched, she reached over and then poured the contents into the bowl.
He headed into the kitchen. Snagging my shirt from the arm of the couch, I put it on quickly and then rose to my feet, watching him.
“Go get dressed,” I heard him tell her, his displeasure clear and his voice brooking no argument.
She hesitated and then gave a quick nod. Without a word, she retreated from the kitchen and moved fast for the stairs, her gaze flashing to me as she passed.
I could see the worry in her eyes.
As she disappeared around the landing, I looked back at her father.
Standing by the archway to the kitchen, he regarded me, his dislike for me obvious.
And a good amount of his anger too.
“Was Chloe down here with you last night?” he demanded.
I paused. The truth might get me kicked out. But from his expression, I seriously doubted he’d believe me if I lied.
“She had trouble sleeping,” I answered. “We didn’t do anything.”
The anger strengthened. “I don’t want you touching her, understand?”
“I understand.”
His face tightened at my response. I could tell he didn’t believe me.
Which was fair. I understood he didn’t want me around his daughter.
It just meant little to me compared to what Chloe might want.
“You listen close,” he growled, stalking toward me. “You’re here on my sufferance, do you get me? And the moment Chloe calms down after all she’s been through, you’re going home. Now I’ll admit all those stories we’ve heard may not be true. But I’m willing to bet some are. Like the one that ended Chloe’s mom up pregnant with her when she was scarcely more than Chloe’s age, and then dead not long after.”
I tensed. There was a possibility between those lines – one that would explain his hatred for us – and nausea twisted my stomach at the thought of it.
The pull of aveluria magic would have been brutal on a landwalker.
“My girl is still a kid,” Bill continued. “She may not think so, and maybe neither do you, but it’s the truth. She’s got her whole life ahead of her, and she doesn’t need trouble coming down on her because of the likes of you. So you keep your hands off her, do I make myself clear?”
I paused. Defending myself wouldn’t do any good. Especially since, when it came to me and Chloe, the moment she was ready for things between us to go farther, I’d sooner move to the depths of the desert than deny her.
And his daughter wasn’t a landwalker. Whether he accepted that or not, I still couldn’t hurt her the way Chloe’s biological father might have hurt her mom.
“Yes,” I replied.
Footsteps thudded on the steps as Chloe jogged back to the first floor.
Bill cast a quick look to the stairway. “Good,” he said to me.
Without another word, he returned to the kitchen, keeping an eye toward me while he went.
Chloe whipped around the turn of the landing and headed down the hall. A dark brown t-shirt had replaced her pajamas, along with a pair of jean shorts that fit her so well, it took a fair amount of effort for me not to show any expression at the sight of her in them. Around her neck, she’d wrapped a thick and glittering green scarf that set off her eyes and covered her bruises at the same time. As she reached the living room entryway, she paused, and her gaze twitched between me and her father. “Everything okay?” she mouthed to me.
I didn’t respond, returning my attention to him.
It felt rather like having a shark in the room. One I couldn’t attack.
Glancing between me and her dad again, she started across the room toward me.
I shook my head. She stopped, her brow twitching down warily.
Linda came down the stairs. As she spotted me, I saw the same look flash through her eyes as she’d had yesterday. The one that said she suspected me of magically brainwashing her daughter.
It was hard to keep the frustration from my face.
Wringing her hands, Linda walked to the entrance to the living room, her gaze darting between us as though she was afraid Chloe would evaporate or I’d suddenly decide to stab someone through the heart.
“Are you…” Linda started to her. “Are you feeling okay this morning?”
“Fine,” Chloe replied. She inched farther into the living room, leaving her mother by the doorway. “Um, listen. Is Baylie home? I saw my stuff from California upstairs last night and then just now I thought I spotted her through the window.”
Linda looked to her husband.
“Have you spoken to Baylie about any of this?” Bill asked.
Chloe tensed. “No.”
He exhaled.
“I need to talk to her, though,” she continued, obviously seeing his reluctance. “She hasn’t seen me since the Sylphaen attacked the cabin. She’s got to be worried.”
His mouth tightened.
“Or are you still going to insist we move away and I never speak to her again because she helped me get to California?” she finished, anger threading through her tone.
Bill’s face darkened. “We are trying to protect you, Chloe. If she doesn’t know about this, there’s no reason for you to talk to her now.”
“But what about that kidnapping you said the Delaneys reported to the cops? She might think I–”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“If Chloe saw Baylie through the window,” I pointed out, “how do you know Baylie didn’t see her?”
Her father’s gaze snapped to me, his fury at my comment clear.
“Yeah,” Chloe agreed, a touch desperately. “What if she did? She could be calling the police right now. And she’ll definitely see me sooner or later. What are you going to do then?”
“Fine,” Linda said. “Then we will go speak to her on your behalf–”
“You’re not doing that!”
“Chloe–”
“No!” She looked between her parents. “If Baylie’s there, then I’m going to see her. And I
am
going to talk to her. End of discussion.”
She moved toward me.
“Okay,” her father agreed.
She stopped, eyeing him warily.
“Okay,” Bill repeated. “You go talk to her. But you will tell her only what we give you to say. You don’t remember your attacker, or anything of what happened. You woke in a barn and ran till you found a gas station payphone and called us. You’ve been here for a week and you haven’t wanted to talk to anyone. That’s it. No other explanation; nothing of dehaians, landwalkers or anything.”
His gaze twitched to me. I tensed. “And that boy stays here.”
“I’m not–”
“Or he’s out the door right now.”
A breath escaped her.
“Please understand, Chloe,” Linda pled. “We’re not trying to be unreasonable; we just want you to be safe. This is for your own good.”
Chloe glanced at her, incredulity in her eyes.
“What will it be?” Bill asked.
I could see Chloe trembling. “Alright,” she answered, her voice tight. “But Zeke comes with me. I’m not leaving him here so you can kick him out while I’m gone.”
Bill tensed.
She gave him a dark look. “I’m not that stupid, Dad.”
“And how do you propose to explain him to her?” he asked.
Chloe was silent.
Bill watched her for a heartbeat. “Tell her he’s your cousin. He came when he heard you were missing.”
“Baylie knows I don’t have any cousins.”
“Tell her you lied.”
Chloe stared at him.
“Tell her you lied,” Bill repeated firmly. “Say you don’t like others to know about him.”
“But–”
“Chloe.”
Still shaking, she hesitated, and then gave a tight nod. “Fine.”
She took my hand.
And she didn’t let go till we reached the door.
At a fast pace, she descended the porch stairs, and when she reached the yard, she strode toward the green, two-story house next door in a way that made me think she was barely restraining herself from running. We crossed the concrete driveway and hurried past the tall wooden fence that surrounded the next backyard. Still shaking with fury, Chloe marched up the steps to the porch and the white front door.
And then she paused. Uncertainty seemed to filter past the rage on her face and, breathing hard, she glanced to me.
I tried for a reassuring smile.
Her lip twitched gratefully.
Exhaling quickly, Chloe reached up and knocked on the door.
Chapter Eight
Chloe
The waiting was the worst.
Standing by the door, I resisted the urge to knock again.
Or run away.
Because, really, I had no idea what I was going to tell Baylie. I wouldn’t lie. I didn’t care what my parents wanted. I wasn’t going to lie to my best friend.
But I didn’t know how to explain either.
My hand quivered. She was here. I couldn’t see her car in the driveway, but she and her parents usually parked in their garage anyway. I’d spotted her through the window, though. Just for a second, blurry and vaguely shadowed by the distance, but I had.
Growing up next to each other for thirteen years, I’d know her silhouette anywhere.
Footsteps thudded on the stairs inside.
I fought the impulse to turn and run.
Baylie tugged open the door and then froze.
I swallowed. “Hey.”
She gaped at me, blinked, and then suddenly leaned past the doorframe and threw a quick look around the neighborhood.
“Uh, hey,” she said, sounding choked. “C-come in.”
She retreated from the doorway, leaving us space to join her in the front room. Her gaze flicked over me and Zeke, and I could see the questions in her eyes.
And the nervousness.
My brow furrowed while we came inside. The house seemed normal. A television was playing upstairs, a trio of library books were stacked on the corner table, and Baylie’s backpack sat by the door. Nothing else had changed. Yet Baylie seemed like she was hurrying us into the fort before the bloodthirsty hordes attacked.