StarChild

By Sara M. Garringer

On the day of her seventeenth birthday, Jewel Grey's life changed forever. Not only was the man who raised her not her real father, but she isn't even a normal human being. She is a Starchild -a being born from an illicit union between a Moonchild and a Sunchild who were said to have incredible and uncontrollable power. And if that wasn't enough, it turns out her birth father is the ruler of a kingdom in a completely separate realm from her own called Azaiah. Now she is to become the next Queen and spark a revolution to change that world for the better... whether she wants to or not.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara M. Garringer
• Release date: Mar 31, 2012
• ISBN: 9780985368609

Sara M. Garringer

Indie AuthorOccasional doodlerProud bearer of the Nerd BadgeTrekkie by MarriageLiving embodiment of irony—love Spider-Man, terrified of spidersI've been writing since the 3rd grade and it's the only thing I've ever wanted to do with my life. I'm happily married with one son.Twitter: @saragarringerInstagram: @saragarringer

Book preview

StarChild

By Sara M Garringer

Copyright 2012 Garringer Publishing

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter One – A Very Unhappy Birthday

Chapter Two – The Never Ending Nightmare

Chapter Three- Neverland

Chapter Four – The Unfortunate Loophole

Chapter Five – Midnight Voice

Chapter Six – Stockholm Syndrome

Chapter Seven – Dances with Demons

Chapter Eight – Ice Cream Sunday

Chapter Nine – Wild Card

Chapter Ten – Worse Case Scenario

Chapter Eleven – Out of Control

Chapter Twelve – Hand in the Cookie Jar

Chapter Thirteen – Gift

Chapter Fourteen – Making New Friends

Chapter Fifteen – Weapons of Mass Destruction

Chapter Sixteen – The Right Thing

Chapter Eighteen – Solar Eclipse

Chapter Nineteen – Gone

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Contact the Author

I still remember the world

From the eyes of a child

Slowly those feelings

Were clouded by what I know now

Where has my heart gone?

An uneven trade for the real world

Oh, I…

I want to go back to

Believing in everything

And knowing nothing at all

Evanescence

Fields of Innocence

Origin

BigWig Enterprises 2000

Chapter One - A Very Unhappy Birthday

On that day, the world was painted in pinks and purples,

a day of celebration ended in tears.

I was baptized in a red ocean.

I lay awake at night and wonder:

can you hear my voice

past the clouds, immersed in the stars?

I miss your voice as you sang to me,

velvet hair twirled in my tiny fingers,

crimson eyes, wide and beautiful

sparkling whenever you laugh.

My heart calls for you and shatters like glass.

I want to feel your arms around me again.

On that day, the world was painted in pinks and purples,

at that time, my favorite colors.

Now the world is painted in black and red-

the colors of pain and blood.

I miss you everyday,

I love you.

I reread the last few lines of my poem, twisting the cap back on my glossy gel pen. Yeah, it was a little morbid, but I usually felt morbid around this time of year. Today was October first. My birthday. I was turning seventeen today.

I know, I know. Everybody hates their birthday. Nobody wants a surprise party with gifts they don't need given by friends they don't even like. Who was I to think I was any different?

Well, unlike all those other people, I’d be spending the bulk of my birthday at the cemetery.

Sighing, I closed my eyes then titled my head back against the plastic coated metal bench I was sitting on. I could already feel a migraine coming on as I tried to push out the bad thoughts threatening to consume me.

A light breeze made my hair dance and softly tap my cheeks. I opened my eyes and stared up at the puffy clouds, tinted pink because of my hair.

Let me explain. You see, my hair is actually two different colors; the bulk of it is black, the sort of black that gothic kids spend hundreds of dollars to get their hair that dark (doesn't matter -it always looks fake anyway) but my bangs are a dark pink and hang just past my eyes, hugging my cheeks.

Here’s the weird part, though, this is actually my natural hair color. Seriously- my hair grows like this.

Apparently when I was a baby I got really sick and they gave me this new experimental drug that affected the pigment in what little hair I’d had at the time so now half my hair comes out this fuchsia color. I used to dye it when I was a kid but now I just let grow out naturally. I like it this way.

That weird drug stuff also affected my eyes because instead of the hazel, which was what they probably would've turned, my eyes are a really bright emerald green color.

I got tired of trying to explain to everyone I met about being sick and the medicine and all that so I just let them think I dye my hair weird colors and wear contacts. It’s just easier that way.

Sigh, again.

With my index finger, I traced the line of the silver chain around my neck then pulled the necklace free from beneath my blouse. My most prized possession; a gift I got from my mother a long time ago.

Hanging from a silver chain was an onyx crystal about the size of a quarter with a gold outline of a pyramid at its center. By far my favorite part of the jewel was what happened whenever I lifted it up to the sunlight and looked through it. With the sunlight streaming through it, you can see a tiny cross in the middle of the pyramid outline with a heart attached where the two sections met.

Time after time I’ve had people beg me to tell them where I’d gotten it so they could purchase one for themselves. They always think I’m lying when I tell them I don’t know where it came from; like I’m so superficial that I don’t want anyone else to have a necklace as beautiful as this so I purposely sabotage everyone. Yeah, right.

So wrapped up was I in my own little world that I didn't notice anyone approaching me until it was too late. A long, slender mocha-colored hand seemed to appear out of nowhere and snatched the spiral notebook from my lap.

Hey! I cried in horror, whirling around to face the thief. I sighed when I realized who it was. I should've known.

Cleo, Lexi and Marisa were all standing with their backs to the sunless sky, staring at me. Cleo was holding my notebook by two fingers as high as her incredibly long arm could hold it. She just loved to show off her five foot ten inches of height.

Give it back, Cleo, I forced my tone to remain calm. It was just some insignificant notebook, after all. No need to open it up and read the rantings of my dark and twisted mind.

We always see you scribblin’ away in this thing, Jewel, Cleo said, flashing me a sinister smile. What could you possibly be writing about?

I opened my mouth to lie –nothing of interest, really –but Lexi interrupted me. I bet it's a love letter. She extended the last two words out in a mocking singsong voice.

I rolled my eyes though I guess they weren't that far off. Whatever, and who would the letter be for, huh?

Jeremiah, the three girls all harmonized together automatically without hesitation.

My cheeks flared. No, I hadn't been writing a love letter to the gorgeous, wonderful, sweet, all around perfect Jeremiah Parker, but the fact that that was where their minds would automatically go was a little embarrassing. Was I really that obvious?

Jeremiah Parker was the smartest guy in our school; a shoe-in for valedictorian, hands down. What was uncharacteristic was the fact that he was also the best quarterback our meager Cougars had ever had since the founding of the school who knew how many years ago. Brains and brawn put together beneath a flawlessly smooth complexion, ice-blue eyes and golden hair cut short and gelled into perfect, pointed spikes all around. And -as if that all wasn't enough -he was incredibly nice and friendly with practically everyone at school from the most popular to the band-geek, audio-visual nerds.

God could there be a more perfect soul on this planet?

You guys are so lame, I retorted, trying to force the blood out of the cheeks and not give me away. I don’t even like him. We’re just friends.

Sure you are, Cleo rolled her eyes at me although with a little more flare than I had. Why don't we just take a little peek and make sure.

She started to thumb through my notebook. Repressing a squeal that would most likely just egg them on, I instead pulled out my trump card.

Drop it right now, or else, Tasha-

Shut up! Cleo shrieked, her head whipping around frantically for onlookers. For a moment I was actually worried about possible whiplash. Say another word and I'll kill you. Seriously, kill!

Cleo’s real name obviously wasn't Cleo. Unfortunately for her, her parents were major nerds, Trekies I suppose is the proper title. They met at some Star Trek convention in San Diego and actually got married at that exhibit in Las Vegas. No joke, they said their vows in front of Captain Kirk’s chair and everything. Because of that, Cleo’s real name is Tasha Lall Hope, a name that mortified her. But she didn't suffer alone; her older brother's name is Scotty Riker Hope though he stopped going by Scotty when he turned thirteen.

The reason we all call her Cleo was because she dressed up as Cleopatra for Halloween Freshman year and looked so totally rocking that pretty soon everyone was calling her Cleopatra. It had gotten to the point where she even went to the salon once a week and got the hairstyle and everything. Even the teachers all call her Cleo.

I swear, Cleo, I made my voice sound menacing; I wanted her to believe my threat. If you don't give that back to me in the next two seconds I’ll go on the P.A. and tell everybody to start calling you Tasha-

Shh! she hissed through her teeth at me, her face going white –an interesting trick for a half African-American. She knew I’d do it if she pissed me off enough. She held my book out to me. Cheater, she grumbled.

Before I could reclaim my property, Lexi snatched it out of Cleo’s hand and started backing up.

Lexi! I moaned.

Hey, you've got no dirt on me, girlfriend! she laughed, still backing away from me.

Drat, she was right about that. Groaning again, I vaulted after her, reaching out for the book she now held over her head, laughing at my futile attempts.

Lexi was, by far, the childish one of our group. Her parents had gotten a divorce when she was really little and it hadn't been a clean break. To this day, they still bicker and fight and do everything in their power to get a rise out of each other. For years, they both battled over who could buy Lexi’s affection. As a result, Lexi was a spoiled little Princess and wasn't shy about acting that way in public.

Arg! Knock it off, Lexi! I growled. I was starting to get mad. What are you, five? Just give it back!

She ignored my protests and kept dancing just out of my reach, giggling like she really was five. Dark thoughts began to fill my mind. Would it be so bad if just decked her right across that perfect, painted-on face?

Suddenly, she came to such an abrupt halt that I almost smacked right into her. When I finally noticed the reason behind her stop, I felt all the color wash out of my face.

Jeremiah Parker stood in all his glory blocking Lexi’s escape. One of his eyebrows was pulled up in obvious confusion but the lovely smirk on his face was one of humor.

God he was so hot!

May I? he asked, already slipping the notebook out from Lexi’s suddenly frozen hand. He stepped around her gawking face and approached me, handing the book out. I take it this belongs to you.

Not trusting my voice for one microsecond, I merely nodded and took the book, hugging it to my chest to insure its continual safety.

I’m actually glad I ran into you, Jewel, he continued, his smirk turning to a wide grin.

I tried to keep myself calm despite how wonderful it felt to hear him say my name. Y-you were?

Can we talk? He inclined his head at my three nosey and so obviously eavesdropping best friends. Alone.

I was suddenly wondering whether someone my age could have a heart attack; it felt like my heart was going to explode. Sure. Um, I just need to get my bag.

Smiling again -oh, that smile -he nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. I can wait.

Practicing deep, calm breathing, I turned my back to him and headed back over to the bench where all my things were scattered. My friends all surrounded me like giggling vultures.

Oh my god! Marisa gushed in a whispered squeal. What do you think he wants?

I knew better than to guess. When Marisa was concerned, less was more.

Marisa was the Queen of Gossip; once she'd heard it or even thought she'd heard it, it lapped around the school in less than an hour. Twice. The phrase off the record meant nothing to this girl.

You know he's single now, right? Cleo chimed in, doing a slightly better job at concealing her excitement.

I did know that. Everyone in school knew that. But that didn't mean anything.

Guys, chill, alright? I snapped in a low voice, shoving everything back into my bag carelessly. I’d hate myself later if anything broke. He probably just needs to borrow a book or something. No big deal, I added to Marisa who'd opened her mouth again.

Before anyone could say anymore, I swung the strap over my shoulder and jogged over to Jeremiah who stood waiting patiently, the sun choosing that moment to peek out from behind a large cloud, bouncing light off his blond hair making a sort of halo around him.

Call me! Marisa called.

I waved a hand behind my back frantically when Jeremiah turned around and began walking. The girls all flashed me thumbs-up and other annoying encouragements. Why was I friends with them?

So, I began nervously once I was sure we were out of earshot of the Three Stooges. What did you want to talk about? My heart started pounding even harder than before and I could feel butterflies in my stomach.

Um, have you finished the reading yet for English?

Dead butterflies all fell into the pit of my stomach, all assassinated by disappointment. Of course, I chided myself. What else could he want with me? Other than him, I was considered one of the smartest kids in our school. My GPA was nearly perfect and probably would be if Jeremiah would stop setting the curve. Not that I minded.

Jewel? he asked, eyeing me confused.

Great. I’d been staring up at his perfect face like an idiot instead of paying attention. Cheeks blazing, I cleared my throat and answered his question.

Yeah, I wanted to get a head start on it. It’s sort of a lot, isn’t it?

He smiled good-naturedly at me. I thought so too. Mr. Stillman always seems to forget that we’ve got other classes besides his. How are we supposed to read six chapters in less than two days with everything else we’ve got?

I matched his smile though nowhere near his magnificence.

This was nice; Jeremiah and I were in a few of the same classes together this year and we’ve had lots of opportunities to talk but never one on one like this. Usually the most I could get with him was group study and things like that. Sometimes Advocacy on Mondays but he was often too surrounded by other friends and admirers for me to get anywhere near him.

We kept walking and talking about schoolwork, heading toward the front of the high school campus where the parking lot was. His shiny black Mustang was parked toward the front but he walked past it and headed for my green Malibu at the end of the lot.

What a gentleman! He was walking me to my car.

I stopped once we’d reached my car and started to browse through my bag for my keys with little enthusiasm. I didn’t want our one and probably only chance of talking alone to be over so soon. Maybe I could fake car trouble or something. Would he offer me a ride? If only…

Listen, I’ve got something I wanted to ask you. Jeremiah suddenly sounded nervous.

You can ask me anything, I told him and meant it. Fly to the moon? No problem –as long as it’s for him, I could probably do anything.

Do you want to go to the movies with me tonight?

My heart stopped. Literally stopped. For a moment, I completely forgot how to breathe.

Jeremiah Parker, the hottest most unbelievably perfect guy in the entire school –probably the world for all I knew –was asking me out? Me? Jewel Grey, the girl with the weird hair and weirder eyes? Did he lose a bet or something?

Why? I asked before I could stop myself.

His smile faltered at the edges a little.

I quickly amended the question. Tonight, I meant. Um, why tonight? I mean it’s a little sudden. Liar. He could ask me to run away to Canada right now and I would.

I just thought it’d be kinda nice, you know. I’d heard you didn’t have any plans so I wanted to take you out for your birthday.

This time, my face fell. I really, really didn’t enjoy having this conversation with anyone let alone Jeremiah.

Um, I chewed my lip, trying to organize my thoughts –a difficult task whenever I was near him. I really don’t celebrate my birthday at all. It’s sort of… cursed.

He chuckled, a light laugh that would’ve normally made my heart lose its natural and healthy rhythm, again, were it not for the topic. Come on, don’t be like that. What possible reason do you have to think that your birthday is ‘cursed’? I could practically hear the quotations when he said the word.

I sighed. Might as well just get it over with…

My mother died on my sixth birthday. Murdered, actually.

Poor Jeremiah paled on the spot. I had the feeling that had been the furthest thing from his mind. Instantly, I wished I could take it back. Wished I had just lied to him. It probably would’ve been better that way.

I kept talking just to fill the silence. It happened during my party. I don’t like to tell people about it so that’s why you didn’t know. I had to tell Cleo, Lexi and Marisa so they’d quit bugging me about my birthday in Junior High and they swore never to tell anybody.

If I continued speaking I would start babbling nonsense so I closed my mouth and allowed the silence to build like a mountain between us. I debated on just getting in my car and taking off so I could escape this horrible moment. Maybe have a good cry on the way to the cemetery.

Then Jeremiah spoke. Um, I-I’m really sorry.

I shook my head, smiling up at him reassuringly. Don’t even worry about it. It was a long time ago. I’m fine.

Do you remember? I mean –what happened?

Of course I remembered. How could I ever forget that day? Mom smiling, beaming with warmth and life, going into the kitchen to get the golden butterfly birthday cake she’d hidden away. But I’d peeked into the box when she wasn’t looking. Glass shattering. Something loud hitting the floor. Then the screaming. God, the screaming.

She was in the kitchen… My voice sounded as distant as I felt. Somebody broke in and shot her. We never found out who.

More silence, making the mountain grow steadily bigger. See, I knew this day was cursed. Dangle a potential date with the guy of my dreams in front of me like a carrot then once I’d almost touched it yank it away so I’d fall flat on my face. Thanks a bunch, God.

You know what? Jeremiah said, breaking the silence. I think I’m gonna go and find a crowbar so I can dislodge the foot from my mouth. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?

He turned to leave but I grabbed his arm to stop him. Wait! Maybe I could salvage this disaster. If you still want to see a movie, I wouldn’t mind. Just any night but tonight.

I waited for the carrot to be pulled away from me again but to my utter shock, Jeremiah turned around to face me with a wide, almost excited smile on his face.

Great! he said enthusiastically. Enthusiastically? Um, I’m kinda busy with practice tomorrow and Friday there’s the game. How about Saturday? Does that work?

Totally! I fought to keep myself from bouncing up and down with joy. Even if Saturday didn’t work, I’d freaking make it work. What movie do you want to see?

Lady’s choice, although I do reserve the right to groan and roll my eyes at least ten times during any chick-flicks. Twenty if either Matthew McConnehey or Kate Hudson star in it. And I’m gonna have to veto it completely if they’re both in it.

I laughed. Actually, I’m not all that into lovey-dovey stuff. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true; I seemed to be strangely attracted to them during a particular time of the month but I thought I should wait at least one date before I brought that sort of embarrassing thing up. I’m sort of a horror movie or action adventure type. Anything with more than one explosion is always a hit in my book.

He pretended to stagger in surprise, clutching at his chest. A girl after my own heart, too impossible to be real. I may just have to marry you, Miss. Gray.

Please oh please tell me he couldn’t hear the boisterous sound of my heart smacking into my ribs like a jackhammer at the mention of marriage. Arg, I was such a girl!

So, you'll be at the football game Friday, right? he asked, breaking through my internal scowling.

I’d been planning on it, I lied instantly. I wondered if I could still get tickets. Cleo had a couple; would anyone really miss her if she suddenly disappeared?

His lips pulled back into a wide grin. Thump thump thump. Great. I’ll see you tomorrow in class, Jewel.

I’d never loved my name more than when I heard it coming from Jeremiah’s perfect mouth. Yeah, see ya.

He smiled again then turned around and headed back the way we'd come, past his shiny mustang and into the school.

Once I was absolutely sure he was out of earshot, I put both hands over my mouth and screamed as loud as I could. A date! I had a date with Jeremiah Parker! Pinch me -I had to be dreaming.

Before I could look anymore insane than I probably already did, I quickly got into my car and slammed the car door shut to hide my sudden hysterical giggling.

Evanescence’s Lithium suddenly filled the car as my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I flipped open my Razor and smiled at the display. I’d been wondering when he would call with an excuse.

Hey, Dad, I answered, smiling. How’s work going?

My dad's a lawyer, one of the founding partners. They mostly handled insurance claims, will disputes, divorces, that sort of thing. Every now and then they'd have to go to Sacramento for some big case but those didn't happen very often.

"Oh, work's going great, baby, my dad said in a cheery tone. He always tried to sound perky when he thought he was about to disappoint me. Listen, I’ve got to head over to Folsom to see a client so I’ll be late getting home. Will you be alright without me?"

Totally called it. Sure, no problem, Dad.

"You've got money for pizza?"

I rolled my eyes. Dad, I’m perfectly capable of cooking myself dinner. Without burning down the house, I quickly added before he could comment.

He laughed. "Right, I know, I’m sorry. He paused; I could almost picture him chewing through his pen cap. Say hi to Mom for me."

I always do, I assured him.

Dad took Mom's death really hard; he still had trouble talking about her. I’d read somewhere that the most devastating loss a person could ever go through was the death of a spouse. Sometimes I wondered what would've happened to him if he hadn't had me to take care of. Just the thought was enough to make me shudder.

"Be careful out there, he cautioned me in his best fatherly tone. And please try to get home before dark. I don't like you driving at night."

Again, I rolled my eyes. I promise, Daddy. I love you.

I love you too, sweetie. Take care.

'Bye."

I kissed the phone loudly then closed it.

Don’t get on my dad's case for not wishing me a happy birthday, okay? I actually preferred it this way. Besides, it just made him remember why we don't celebrate it in the first place.

Pausing to slide my seatbelt on, I started my Malibu, popped it into reverse and guided it carefully out of the parking lot with practiced ease. I drove past the plaza center and merged onto the northbound freeway.

The cemetery was located in Citrus Heights; about a twenty-minute drive from the high school then a forty-five minute walk to my mother's grave. I never minded the walk. That’s why God invented iPods, right?

You see the reason for the long walk is because separating the parking lot to the graveyard is an enormous gully with a small creek at the bottom. It was about the length of a four-lane highway in width and stretched to both ends of the cemetery. There were two bridges on either side of the lot but we were unlucky enough to land the only gravesite that seemed to sit right in the middle making it impossible to avoid the tiring journey.

When I made it to my mother's grave, I did the usual. Cleaned the stray leaves off the stone plaque, pulled out all the weeds. Once it was as pristine as I could make it, I pulled out an envelope containing the poem I’d finished and a single red rose and laid it beside the plaque. The rose was especially of great importance to me.

Even though I was so young when she died, I could still picture my mother's face so clearly, like she'd only been gone hours instead of years. Her long raven black hair that matched my portion perfectly, the white porcelain skin of her heart-shaped face that always seemed to glow in the moonlight. All this Dad and I agreed on. Except her eyes.

Dad always told me her eyes were a warm brown color, like hot cocoa. Unfortunately, what few pictures we had of my mother were either in black and white or the weird sepia style that our family portrait was made of, so I have no real evidence to dispute him.

Except that that wasn't what I remembered.I remembered my mother's eyes being a deep, crimson red -the color of freshly spilt blood.

Which was my father's biggest argument. He thought I was too young to remember anything before her murder. There had been so much blood that day that that had to be the reason I would think such a strange thing. After all, nobody had red eyes.

But I believed my memories. I knew deep in my heart that I was right.

Knew it enough to spend over an hour in the flower shop this morning looking through rose after rose, trying to find the one that matched how I pictured her eyes perfectly.

I recited the poem I had written for her aloud. This was sort of tradition for us –every year I would write a new poem and leave it here with the special rose. Her plot was pretty much in a very isolated area so I usually had the place all to myself. No reason to be shy when it’s just me and her.

After I finished with the poem, I began to sing, a wordless melody my mother used to sing to me when I was a baby. It was a soft lullaby that, despite all theses years, I still haven’t forgotten. Whenever I was upset or lonely, I’d sing this to myself and instantly I’d feel better. As though my mom would come down from heaven and wrap her arms around me until I calmed down.

I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to the effects of the song.

Something wonderful always happens to me when I sing –sensations that I can never quite explain. It feels like tiny bubbles bouncing playfully against my skin or soft feathers lightly tickling me. If I concentrated hard enough, I can direct the feeling to various parts of my body or even make the bubbles swirl and dance on the wind around me. Such a warm and pleasant feeling.

I kept my eyes closed even after I finished singing the melody twice, just enjoying the lingering feeling until it evaporated from my skin into the air.

It wasn’t entirely necessary for me to open my eyes to know that the sun was already beginning its slow descent. For some reason, I can always tell when the sun rises and when the sun isn’t around. It’s hard to explain but I feel different somehow when the sun isn’t around. Not bad different, just different.

I glanced down at my watch –five-thirty. If I was going to keep my promise to be home before the sun goes down I needed to start heading out…like half an hour ago.

Oh well, it’s not like there’s anything out to get me in the dark. What did it matter if I got home late? Dad would never know.

I gathered up my things and readjusted the envelope and rose that had been blown over by a sudden gust of wind. Touching two fingers to my lips, I transferred a kiss to the plaque –to my mother –then began the long walk back to my car.

Hey, I was just glad it wasn’t raining –sometimes that creek gets so full it floods the place. Nothing like trudging up to your mom’s grave in the slippery mud for forty-five minutes.

My eyes were completely focused on picking an album to listen to for the walk on my iPod. That’s probably the reason I didn’t notice anyone approaching me from the long shadows cast by the giant trees and the seeing sun.

I was about to hit play on the latest Nickleback album when I heard someone speak.

Jewel Grey. The voice sounded deep, gruff and very aged.

Yes? I answered automatically, looking up from the player.

I expected to see some cemetery caretaker or something like that, angry with me for leaving stuff on my mom’s grave that he’d have to clean later. Get over it; I mean everybody does it, right?

But no one was there. I craned my neck around the nearest tree thinking maybe I couldn’t see him from this vantage point. Nothing. Behind me maybe. Nope.

Now I don’t hear voices so instead of feeling worried or anything like that, I started to get annoyed.

Is somebody there? I asked, letting my irritation fill my voice.

A cool breeze blew several leaves across my path. Birds cawed loudly as they flew overhead. Something skidded up a tree making the branches shake.

Those were all that answered me.

Was this some jerk’s idea of a joke? Come to a cemetery and try to freak people out by calling out to them then hiding like a coward? Is this how some loser got his jollies?

Whatever. I was so out of here.

I turned around and sucked in a sharp gasp.

A tall, stocky man stood in front of me, staring down at me from only a few feet away. He was dressed in a grime covered jean jacket that would’ve looked tacky even in the eighties over a red and black plaid shirt that hung almost down to his knees. A greasy baseball cap completed the outfit; the bill was pulled down so far that it covered the top half of his face.

I was about to run for the hills when I noticed his dirty gardening gloves. Of course, this guy must be the caretaker. That explained why his clothes were all mangy and disgusting.

Letting out a nervous laugh, I smiled brightly up at him and said, Wow, you really startled me. I didn’t expect anyone to be up here.

He didn’t say anything, merely stared at me. At least, that’s what I assumed; I still couldn’t see his eyes beneath the cap.

I swallowed uncomfortably. Um, is there something you needed or wanted? Is that why you called me?

And then something inside my brain clicked and I felt my palms start to sweat.

H-how did you know my name?

Even before the question left my mouth, my feet were already beginning to slowly back away from this stranger.

She is the one.

His voice made me jump in surprise. It was gravelly –a deep bass that sounded closer to a rumble than human speech.

More importantly, it wasn’t the same voice that said my name before.

Slowly, it dawned on me that this guy wasn’t talking to me. Either he was completely off his rocker, talking to himself or –I didn’t want to think about or. Dealing with one nutcase was scary enough without having to worry about the very real possibility of more than one.

Still backing away, I slipped my hand into my purse at my hip trying not to look obvious while I groped around for the cell phone that I had carelessly tossed inside. The small pouch on the front of the bag intended for cell phone storage seemed to be laughing at me as my fingers found one useless object after another. Why did I have so much crap in my purse?

She is the appropriate age.

My heart about exploded in my chest at the new voice. I whirled around and almost bumped into a tall lanky man wearing a long black duster that fell to his ankles with the collar turned up and an old fashioned gray fedora hat tilted downward also covering his eyes.

But how can we be sure? the new man continued, not making a move toward me but clearly blocking my path.

Trembling now, I yanked the purse free from my shoulder and began pulling things out of it, still looking for that stupid phone. If I got out of this situation, I vowed to always use that stupid pocket in the front. Or better yet, to buy one of those ugly phone holsters that dorky business guys always wore on their belts. If it meant not wasting time throwing out lipstick after lipstick after lipstick while trying to find the tiny sliver of a phone, who cares who made fun of me?

Do you doubt your own senses, Julius? the first man demanded of the second. You saw just as clearly what I saw. She’s one of them.

I agree, Malcolm, the man called Julius said in a tired tone. But that doesn’t mean she’s the one we’ve been searching for.

Neither Malcolm nor Julius were trying to stop me as I altered my path and began rushing forward into the space between them. I still had my hand in my purse but I decided to just make a break for it instead. Maybe Dad could sue the makers of Razor for making their darn phones so impossibly small.

As I was getting ready to bolt, another figure emerged from the shadowy trees and blocked me again.

He was the shortest of the three but made up for it by being the thickest and I don’t mean fat. This guy had muscles those freaks at the gym would kill for.

He was dressed in a thick leather biker jacket that would probably break if anyone tried to zip it up over that wide, wide chest. He had black leather gloves on and sunglasses that were too dark to see through even in the full glare of the sunlight.

Who cares if she’s the one or not, he said in that voice which had said my name in the beginning. It’s clear she’s one of them, right? All the more reason to stick around.

And then he smiled and it made my blood run cold. It was a smile that I had never seen someone give in real life but plenty of times on TV or in movies. Right before a really, really awful scene took place.

Axel has a point, Malcolm said, his gravelly voice sounding a little eager now.

There was a loud sigh before Julius said in a bored voice, I have no objections. Just make it quick; I don’t enjoy being out here in the daylight.

I couldn’t breathe; it felt like my heart was pounding so hard that it was smashing all the air from my lungs.

Horrified, I watched as Axel reached behind his back and withdrew a shiny, silver curved blade that had to be at least a foot long.

Desperate for an escape, I looked over my shoulder but all I saw was the gorge dividing the cemetery from the parking lot. Without realizing it, I had let these men corner me like a rat surrounded by three hungry alley cats.

The cat analogy fit Axel the best; hunger was the only emotion I could read on his expression as he closed the distance between us.

With my gaze so fixated on Axel, I didn’t notice Malcolm until he’d already grabbed my arm in a vice grip.

Get off me!! I shrieked at the absolute top of my lungs.

That same bubble sensation suddenly flared to life on my skin but it wasn’t playful and pleasant –it was hot and electric.

I felt it shoot to the arm Malcolm held and to my astonishment he jerked his hands away from me with a yelp. Flames lit the gardening gloves and he struggled out of them, stomping them out on the ground with a heavy boot. Steam was seeping up from his palms even without the gloves.

My lips parted trying to vocalize my amazement but all I could manage was a breathy w sound. Tentatively, I touched my own arm. My skin felt very warm and a little tingly but not uncomfortable and definitely not painful. What was that?

Damn girl! Malcolm snarled at me.

It was then that I noticed in his haste to get away from me his hat had fallen off –the entirety of his face was visible to me now.

For the second time that day, I forgot how to breathe.

Malcolm’s eyes were blood red.

This stranger’s eyes were the same color as my mother’s were in my memories. That completely unnatural color that was impossible to find on a normal person. Yet I was positive that it was one hundred percent identical to hers.

Once again I was too focused on one thing that I wasn’t paying attention to anything else around me. Axel and even the previously uninterested Julius had all come to back up their companion Malcolm who was glaring murderously at me.

Now that they were all so close to me, I could see that Julius had those same red eyes as Malcolm and my mother. Because of the dark glasses I couldn’t see Axel’s eyes but something told me they were just as red. What was going on?

Julius was holding a matching dagger in his hand now and as I turned back around to face Malcolm he pulled yet another silver blade into view gripping the hilt so tightly his still steaming hand shook.

I’ll skin you alive for that you damn Sunchild scum!

Sunchild?

Before I even had a chance to wonder what that even meant, Malcolm grabbed me by my shirt collar and raised the dagger high. I sucked in a breath to let out my final scream.

Stop right there! a female voice cried.

As though it were scripted, we all froze on the spot and turned to face the newcomers.

If Hot Topic had a sudden urge to do ads like Gap, these three would be their poster children.

The tallest was a lanky boy with thin wire-rimmed glasses and gray hair that shimmered silver in the slowly fading sunlight. He wore a white long sleeved shirt with a darker shirt peeking out from under the v-neck collar and a pair of dark blue-green jeans.

The other boy had hair the color of fire, which danced in the soft breeze like living flames. He was wearing a charcoal gray denim shirt with a blue flame design wrapping around the rolled up sleeves, no doubt connecting in the back. This hung over a pair of loose-fitting black jeans.

By far the shortest among them was the only girl who was standing a few steps in front of them like a leader. Her hair was an auburn color more orange than brown. Her outfit of choice was a canary-yellow baby-doll shirt complete with a white lace collar and a pair of cuffed denim peddle-pusher jeans.

None of them looked natural at all and I don't just mean their abnormal hairstyles. The way they all stood together in a tight triangle -the red-haired boy standing on the girl's right with his body angled away, arms crossed and eyes closed like he was slowly counting to ten to calm himself down, and the silver-haired boy mirroring the other almost identically except for the arms crossed and counting thing -it all looked rehearsed.

But it was their eyes that held my undivided attention, rooting me to the spot in complete awe.

They were the same emerald green as my own.

Julius cursed loudly. I knew we should've waited until full dark.

They don't look so tough, Axel said confidently, flicking his tongue disturbingly across the shiny blade. I especially like the girl.

The silver-haired boy narrowed his emerald eyes at Axel with dark intent. The red-haired boy didn't alter his stance at all; either he hadn't heard the comment or didn't care. I was betting on the not caring part.

Meanwhile, the girl aimed a finger at the group, apparently unnerved by the much larger man's obvious threat. Listen closely, she began in a voice that was very high and sounded like it should belong to someone much younger. If you unhand that girl and leave peacefully, I give you my word you will not be pursued.

A beat passed before Malcolm and Axel burst into roars of laughter, not that I could blame them. Heck, even I almost started laughing; the girl looked about as terrifying as a moth. With two broken wings.

The girl's cheeks puffed out and she clamped both hands on her hips, pouting. Yes, she actually pouted.

I wouldn't laugh if I were you, she said in as low a voice as she could; trying to sound intimidating, I guessed. We are the royal guard, handpicked by the Lord King Azaiah himself. We are more than a match for the likes of you.

This girl was a complete and total nutcase! I stared at the others beside her for some kind of reaction to the insane comment she just made but neither of them did anything. God, they were even bigger crazies for hanging out with someone like that!

I turned my attention back to Malcolm who was still grasping me by the shirt, waiting for him and his buddies to laugh again. But they didn't. In fact, if I didn't know better, I’d say they were all suddenly a lot tenser.

Just what in the world was I in the middle of? A straightjacket reunion of the Bell Vu Alumni?

So abruptly that I almost fell into the gully behind me, Malcolm released his hold on me. I regained my balance and backed up as far away as I could get from them, coming up to the extreme edge of the gorge. Scary, yes, but given the circumstance, the lesser of the two evils.

They all three turned their backs on me so they could better face their adversaries but made sure that I had no room to even think about escaping. I guess I wasn't threatening enough to have to keep an eye on. If I hadn't been about to pee my pants with fear, I probably would've been insulted.

The King must truly be weak-minded to have chosen you three as his personal guard, Axel taunted but the original cockiness had almost completely abandoned his voice. Why from the looks of you, little lady, if the wind gets any stronger it'll carry you away.

Malcolm snickered a little at the comment. Once again, the orange-haired girl's cheeks puffed out slightly and that lip jutted out in another very girly pout. The silver-haired boy was still eyeing Axel dangerously but there was something in his too-familiar eyes that wasn't threatening. Actually, if I had to guess, I’d say he looked a