Summer of Blood

By Carrie Baize

The darkness of the place was overwhelming and every day it grew more and more difficult to keep from taking in the very nature of the place. Amanda watched helplessly as it twisted the hearts and minds of the others around her and feared the possibility that her gifts might someday be used to further the downfall of this small community.
But she had seen the coming of strong allies. She didn’t know who they were, but she’d seen them deep in her heart - battling the demons and their minions and walking away from those encounters victorious.
Rio Hevrir would continue to bleed for now, but when the summer sun finally began to shine long hours and bring life back to this place, she would see this band of warriors with her own eyes.
They were awakening and seeing and converging... and this summer, they would become heroes.

They were as unlikely a group as any to end up together - athletes in unrelated sports, brilliant minds hiding away from glory in a sea of normalcy, and the heirs to financial empires that crippled their competitors for sport. The only thing they had in common, and only by the serendipitous kiss of fate, was the soil beneath their feet and the evil that thrived in the darkness.
But they had a job to do and, when the time came, they would do it. Rio Hevrir just had to hold out a little longer... just until summer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carrie Baize
• Release date: Mar 20, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458148742

Carrie Baize

Carrie Baize was born in Santa Rosa, and has lived most of her life in California's Central San Joaquin Valley. She graduated from C.L. McLane High School and continued her education at Fresno City College. She is an avid role player and has spent a great deal of time in a number of fantasy worlds... some well-known, and some of her own design.She credits her parents with her love of the arts and her father, particularly, for her love of role playing and fantasy world creation.Carrie is blessed with a family who, although scattered across the United States, are incredibly supportive and truly believe in her ability to make her dreams come true. She lives in the foothills above Fresno with her husband, four daughters, and a mob of fuzzy four-legged feline children.

Book preview

Chapter One

J.J. had been out of the hospital a couple of weeks, but Dr. Blake still hadn’t cleared him to return to school. He’d spent most of his days in the garage with his weight bench. The only other options were to run around Rio Hevrir, which didn’t offer much in the way of... well... anything, or sit inside the house and remember with dizzying and painful clarity the way his parents had been slaughtered by the kids that needed a tow truck.

Being reminded of the night his parents were murdered wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, he decided as he set the bar back into its brackets at the head of the weight bench. When he remembered the look on his father’s face and the tears falling from his mother’s eyes as the beasts ripped at them with their teeth, he got pissed… when he got pissed, he was able to focus very clearly on finding some way to have his revenge on the monsters that had destroyed his life.

Remembering was okay, but being in the house was different. There were other memories around town that mingled with that night and made it easier to face, but there was no escape when he was home. The pictures were clear and vibrant and burned into his mind and every time he walked back toward the front room, just like he had that night, the space in front of him filled up with the images of his parents’ slaughter and the physical and emotional pain when the creatures turned on him.

The memories in the house were too strong. He would have preferred to stay in the garage with his weight bench, but he knew he couldn’t live there. Going back to school seemed like his only option.

He had less than an hour until his appointment with Dr. Blake, so he made his way through the house and showered and dressed and forced his mind into a position where it could deal with people and with the world outside.

It was a different world than it had been two months ago. At least it was to him. This world was not the place where he’d been a kid and played football in the street with the neighbors - this was the world where a bunch of kids his age knocked on doors and slaughtered families. This world was cold and dark in spite of its already scorching summer days and it was a world J.J. couldn’t face quite the same way anymore. He’d learned that in the hospital, when his aunt and uncle had arrived with plans to take him home with them, and it was a lesson that just continued to cement itself in his mind as time went by.

By the time he was ready to leave, J.J. didn’t leave the house at all, but Crazy Dawson kicked his Harley to life in the driveway and cruised through Rio Hevrir’s streets toward the hospital. J.J. would have had people stopping him to tell them how sorry they were and how they wanted to help him… but no one stopped Crazy Dawson. No one approached with their empty sympathies or their morbid curiosities or any of the other things that made Rio Hevrir such a disgusting place to live. J.J. was content to leave the part of him that gave a damn about just about anything laying on his bed at home staring up at the ceiling. Dealing with people, with the whole damned town, was just easier as Crazy Dawson.

Everyone steered as far away from him as possible.

And J.J. kind of liked it that way.

There were a couple of people that didn’t have to face off with Crazy Dawson, but not many. Life was easier if he let the whole town believe he’d snapped that night, or when he came to in the hospital, or whatever it was they thought. Crazy Dawson had a way of dealing with the town and the people in it that left J.J. in peace.

And peace was a good thing.

The Harley rolled to a stop on the sidewalk at the foot of the stairs. J.J. took a few deep breaths and allowed his mind to slip fully into Crazy Dawson mode before pulling off his helmet. That was the only problem with the whole Crazy Dawson thing, he’d come to realize... any little chink in that armor and word would spread. The last thing he needed, if he was going to live in this town long enough to avenge his parents’ murder, was to lose the edge that kept people off his back. After setting his helmet down on the seat, J.J. headed up the stairs and through the stuck-open automatic doors.

J.J. imagined that the Rio Hevrir Medical Center looked much the same as it had when this particular building was built in the fifties. The boxy structure was just as bland and boring inside as it was outside and the faded and stained sea-green everything made J.J.’s stomach turn. Logic told him that the nausea that threatened him every time he walked through those doors probably had more to do with the time he’d spent here recovering from the attack that killed his parents, but J.J. was much more content to blame the hospital's allegedly soothing color-scheme.

He wondered about the mindsets of the people that worked in hospitals. It seemed impossible to him... being able to work in the shadow of the horrors of Rio Hevrir and still be able to go home at night... or to sleep without nightmares... or to smile. Maybe it was the hospital staff that was crazy, and J.J. was the only sane person left in Rio Hevrir. Though that theory made much more sense than any other he'd come up with in his many trips through this room, the fact of the matter was that most of the people in town bought into the Crazy Dawson idea.

And the nurse at the front desk this afternoon was one of them. She'd seen trauma touch people in many ways in all the years she'd worked in a hospital setting and she truly believed that the attack on his family had driven J.J. mad.

Who was he to argue?

J.J. walked past the front desk with no intention of stopping. He was here to see Doctor Blake. Why did the front desk need to know? He was only a few steps past the desk when the nurse finally screwed up enough nerve to speak. Mister Dawson? she called out hesitantly. Mister Dawson? I... I need you to check...

J.J. slowed just enough to look back over his shoulder and snarl. He didn't want to stop at the desk or check in or any of the other things they thought he needed to do. He just wanted to see Doctor Blake and get the hell out of here.

She considered calling after him again but decided against it. She'd seen the sort of fury that burned in that young man's eyes before, and the last place she wanted to be was on the receiving end of it for something as simple as signing in for an appointment. With no security in sight it would be better for her just to let him go.

She picked up the phone and quickly dialed Diane’s extension. J.J. had already disappeared into the stairwell, and there wasn't a chance he was coming back to sign in. At least she could give Dr. Blake's secretary a few seconds’ warning.

Up on the fifth floor, Diane Crenshaw ended up with most of a minute before J.J. came through the door. She buzzed Dr. Blake's desk and told him J.J. was on his way up, then rose from her desk and busied herself in the small waiting room by straightening the chairs and pulling a couple of fresh cans of soda from the refrigerator tucked between the filing cabinets. Like the rest of the hospital staff, Diane had been subjected to J.J.'s erratically violent outbursts and often menacing presence. Unlike most of the others, though, she saw through the façade and quickly trained herself to look past it.

When J.J. burst through the outer door, Diane halted his motion with a single outstretched hand and held out a can of Coca Cola with the other.

Relax, J.J., she said firmly. You’re early and Doctor Blake is still in with another patient. Just have a seat and relax.

My appointment’s at two, J.J. snarled. After a month of trying, Crazy Dawson still hadn’t been able to get any reaction from Diane. There were days it bothered him and days when, if she wasn’t married and twenty-five years older than him, he might have fallen head-over-heels for her. Today, though, he just wanted to get this over with and get home to another week of sitting around wondering what happened to his life and how to find the bastards that ruined it.

That’s ten minutes from now, Diane countered flatly. So, have a seat.

It would have been clear to anyone that Diane wasn’t suggesting he do anything, and he wasn’t really in the mood to argue with her. Besides the energy it would take would be wasted when the woman didn’t cower in fear like all the others. With a shrug, J.J. popped open the soda and flopped down hard on one of the leather chairs that lined the only wall in the outer-office that didn’t contain a door or a bank of file cabinets. He could be patient, he told himself. It had taken too long for him to recover his strength and manage to gain his own life... even if it was incomplete. Somehow, he could be patient.

He’d already downed half the Coke when the door to the inner-office opened and a boy, maybe ten or eleven years old, walked out and through the office. He stopped long enough to say goodbye to Diane and made it a point to keep from looking in J.J.’s direction. The whole Crazy Dawson thing was never meant to scare kids, but it happened pretty much any time a kid was around. J.J. couldn’t see any sign of injury in the way the boy moved and that made it hard to guess what was wrong with him, and since he was so young it was hard not to care… he just couldn’t bring himself to care enough to ask.

A moment later, Jordan Blake appeared in the doorway. During the time the doctor had cared for him, J.J. had seen plenty of instances when Blake's personality didn’t really fit with his appearance, but all the intensity and aggravation of the work didn’t dull the fact that the man looked like he belonged in a red suit at the mall in December. In fact, if Blake ever let his hair and beard grow out, J.J. decided, he'd be that one guy in every town that every kid was always sure was Santa Claus. J.J. didn't want or need or have any belief at all any more in Old St. Nick though, he just wanted the man he'd thanked and cursed repeatedly over the past months for saving his life to sign off on the damned medical release so he could get on with what was left of it.

C'mon in, J.J., Blake smiled. How've you been?

J.J. followed Dr. Blake into the office and pushed the door shut behind him. How the hell do you think I’ve been? J.J. snapped. Then he took a deep breath and flopped into one of the chairs facing Blake’s desk. I'm fine, Doc, he said with a nod. Just like last week. And the week before. And the week before.

Blake chuckled as he perched on the corner of his desk. So, what's it gonna be, J.J.? he asked with a smile. Fewer visits with the trauma counselor? More time between visits with me?

J.J. shook his head. Those are just the icing on the cake, Doc, he chuckled darkly. All that stuff'll fall into place if you’d just...

Jordan Blake knew his patient well enough to know where the conversation was headed. "Are you sure you're ready to go back? Blake interrupted. Are you really ready to deal with all the..."

Look, Doc, J.J. snapped. "All I do is sit there day after day and get more and more and more pissed about the whole thing. All day long I got nothing to do but think about them. J.J. shook his head slowly. I’m healed, he explained calmly. I’m healthy. All the vitals you insist I keep track of are right where you said they’re supposed to be. My appetite and stamina are both back to normal. And that counselor’s a damned quack anyway, all wrapped up in... damn, Doc, just let me go back to school?"

Blake closed his eyes and nodded thoughtfully. "Y’know, most boys your age want excuses not to go back to school, J.J., he sighed. Still nodding, Blake stood up and walked around the desk, retrieving a multicolored form from his desk drawer. This is your release, he explained as he signed the bottom of the page. Make sure they keep it on record and ask Diane to make you a copy to keep with all your paperwork. That way you have proof for your insurance or... whatever."

J.J. took the form and shook Blake's hand. Thanks, Doc.

Blake nodded and watched J.J. walk back through the door into the outer office. He had to admit that J.J. was right on several counts. The young man had made a dramatic physical recovery... but he wasn’t entirely convinced that J.J. had healed any of the unseen wounds the attack had left him with.

Jordan Blake had been practicing in Rio Hevrir for years, and he was no stranger to patients of blood loss, but J.J. had been a special case. Blake decided early on, and had yet to find proof otherwise, that the only reason J.J. was alive at all was because he had already decided - somewhere in the back of his mind - that he had to avenge his parents. The reason he lived through the attack was the same reason he had just walked out of the office with the medical release in his hand... sheer force of will.

J.J. took the form and his copies and shook Diane’s hand. Thanks, Di, he nodded as he headed out into the hall and back toward the stairwell. The tile in the hallway stretched out in front of his boots as the other doctors and staffers on the floor scattered out of his path. As far as the rest of the floor was concerned, Crazy Dawson was a potentially dangerous entity on his best days... and from the look on his face, it didn't look as if today was one of those days.

J.J. considered snarling at a group of nurses as he passed, but he was more interested in just getting out. The soft green walls were beginning to turn his stomach.

He should have been used to the hospital by now. It had been months since he'd almost died... months since the creatures had slaughtered his family... months since he'd thought about anything other than finding the bastards responsible for his parents' death.

But right now, he needed to force some sense of normalcy into what was left of his life. He didn't have a whole lot of faith in the possibility of having a normal life, again, but at least he could force himself into something that would remind him of one. He wasn't really sure how to do it, but he was fairly certain that getting out of the house and back to school would help. After all, he'd been a decent student before the attack... and he had his team mates there to help run interference when the bullshit started. As long as Crazy Dawson didn't alienate them, first.

J.J. pushed through the door into the stairwell, grateful to be free of the nauseating greens of the hallway for a short time. The only thing about the stairs that was better than the stark plain concrete walls and floor was the fact that he could get out of the hospital much quicker than if he were forced to wait for one of the elevators. He took the steps down two at a time and burst through the door on the ground floor.

The nurse at the front desk and a couple of visitors jumped when the door flew open and Crazy Dawson strode into the lobby laughing. With the release form tucked safely in his jacket, J.J. was anxious to get back out to his bike and away from here. He stopped at the desk long enough to scribble his initials on the line where the nurse had signed him in, then strode out the doors to the Harley.

His first thought was to head straight to Rio Hevrir High and get the medical release on record, but as he kicked the bike to life he reconsidered. Though he was fairly certain the entire town knew all the details of his court battle with his aunt and uncle over his independence, it would be just like the office staff at Rio High to refuse to allow him to clear his own medical absence without clear legal proof of his emancipation.

J.J. pulled his helmet on and stomped the bike to life. He’d have to go by his house before he could get himself back into school. He laughed to himself as he rode, remembering how his lawyer had insisted he keep his court documents in a safety deposit box. Banks were a necessary evil – a place to keep large sums of money safe from thieves… but that was about all they were good for. His documents were safe.

After dodging red lights and generally riding through Rio like there was no one else on the road, J.J. pulled into his own driveway a few minutes later. He walked quickly through the house, avoiding all the memories he could, and headed into the master bedroom.

He’d slowly moved his stuff into the room, but it still felt strange to think of it as his. His entire life, this had been his parents’ room. Slowly taking it over, he’d convinced himself, would help him heal some of the emotional wounds he’d suffered that night… but so far, the only healing that seemed to be going on was the painful scarring that drove him on toward his revenge.

He pulled the file box out of the gun safe and flipped through the collection of papers. It didn’t take long to find the proof he was looking for… he’d had to produce it often enough over the last couple months, he was starting to wonder if having it tattooed to the palm of his hand might have been easier.

With the court decision and the medical release tucked safely together inside his jacket, J.J. left the house and headed west along the highway toward Rio High.

As he pulled into the parking lot, he saw the new girl headed away from campus with her sketchbook under her arm, but as he parked his bike it occurred to him. Thinking of her as the new girl was way out of line. She had been the new girl when he last saw her… but that had been months ago. He knew enough about her to know that she’d moved to Rio Hevrir from somewhere up north, but that was about it. She’d come into Rio High as a loner, and it looked like she’d stayed that way.

Too bad, he thought to himself as he walked into the office. She seemed like she’d be okay. Not drop-dead gorgeous, but not hard to look at either. Surely someone’s made friends with her…

Of course, J.J. had lost a lot of faith in the so-called friendships that grew at Rio High. The entire time he’d been hospitalized, and even after he got home, there were only a couple of his friends that had bothered to check up on him at all.

Mrs. Davis, the grandmotherly head secretary at Rio High, looked over the top of her reading glasses as he entered. There was a split-second there where she wasn’t quite sure who the man was then the light bulb went off over her head and whatever project she was working on got scattered as she almost jumped to her feet.

J.J., she smiled. Are you coming back to school a…? She stopped herself just short of saying ‘already,’ but J.J. heard it anyway.

Yeah, he answered, pushing the paperwork across the counter. Am I still in all my classes?

Mrs. Davis smiled. Of course you are, dear, she said with a nod as she walked over to the photocopier. You’ve kept up with your work, so there was no reason to withdraw you, she explained, handing the original court paperwork back to him. There’s only one class left today, she smiled. Why don’t you just come in tomorrow, huh?

J.J. nodded as he tucked the documents back inside his jacket. Wouldn’t do much good to go today, he agreed. Besides, this’ll give you a chance to warn everyone I’m back.

Mrs. Davis laughed softly and shook her head. Warn them you’re back? she echoed with a laugh. Goodness, dear, they’re going to be throwing parties!

J.J. felt a hint of a smile cross his face for the first time he could remember since the attack. If you say so, Mrs. D, he shrugged as he turned toward the door.

Alone in the parking lot, J.J. was beginning to wonder if he was as ready for this as he’d convinced himself he was. If Mrs. Davis had been shocked by his return, it was likely others would be as well. J.J. could handle whatever they threw at him, but would they be ready for what he threw back?

Chapter Two

Liberty set her sketchbook carefully on the top shelf of her locker and dumped her school books unceremoniously inside the metal cabinet. She tried to convince herself that her school work was just as important as her art, but she just couldn’t make herself believe it. Even though she’d lost the Whirlwind contract, she still had people that wanted to see her work. She still had people willing to pay for it, too. And there were very few things she found more rewarding than getting a check for something that she did because she loved it.

But it wasn’t time to worry about her sketchbook. There were only a couple other things as important to her as the images she pulled from her nightmares and memories… and her training was one of those things.

She changed quickly and entered the studio. It was an escape and she knew it, but that didn’t matter to her. The studio in Rio Hevrir felt more like home than any other place she’d been in this town. Of course, without Alex waiting at the house for her and planning all sorts of grand adventures, it really was the only place she could stand to be. If Jack would let her, she’d move her drawing table here and never leave.

You’re early, Liberty, Jack called, never looking up from the paper scattered on his desk. Shouldn’t you be in your history class?

Liberty knew that the normal teenage response was to be annoyed that her sifu was nagging her about school… that she should snap back with something about him not being her father… but she just couldn’t bring herself to do anything but smile and nod.

I should, sifu, she admitted quietly. "But I was falling asleep in chemistry. I couldn’t have sat and listened to another lecture on the roaring twenties if my life depended on it."

So, instead, you chose to implicate me as your truancy accomplice, Jack laughed. Right. That makes perfect sense. Well, if you’re going to be here, you might as well get to work, he added, nodding toward the front doors. The children will be here soon, he smiled. You have very little time to clean the studio before you help them with their warm-ups.

Liberty stifled a quiet sigh as her right fist crossed her body and planted itself firmly in her fully open left hand. Her hands pushed away from her body a few inches and, after a nod from Sanders, she walked out of the office and into the studio proper. The quick salute was as natural as breathing… an almost involuntary response to the end of a conversation with her sifu. But there were times when Jack Sanders really annoyed her. Like when he nagged her about school or found some way to punish her when she was out of line. Or the way he assigned her duties she didn’t feel capable of doing well or checking up on her when he thought she should be somewhere or should be doing something particular… all the things she assumed normal parents would do.

All the things her father had done for Alex.

She shoved the thoughts out of her mind, knowing damned well that if her brain was still going in this direction when the kids started to show up she’d end up hating every last one of them. The little kids always showed up with their parents and their parents always sat and watched the sessions with big proud smiles and, more often than not, Liberty found herself hating them anyway. She knew it wasn’t their fault – that it wasn’t fair to these strangers to hate them for her own parents’ failures – but knowing that and feeling it were two very different things.

Suck it up, she told herself sternly.

After a quick cleaning, she began to focus on stretching and forcing her mind into the one quiet place she had left. Once the children’s class was over, she’d work in solitude for another hour before the rest of her class started showing up. She figured she had four solid hours of peace before she had to go back to the house she shared with her mother, and she was determined to hold onto every bit of peace she could find.

Her precious four hours, though, came and went before she realized it. Once her classmates had all left, she retreated into the locker room and changed back into her street clothes as slowly as she could.

You need to get home before it gets dark, Liberty. She was halfway through lacing the eyes on her right boot when Jack’s voice drifted through the room.

Liberty let out a sigh. I’m dressed, sifu, she called out in response. She knew where his footsteps would come from and how he’d been waiting to enter the room until he knew she was comfortable with his presence. But I’m beginning to think you worry too much about me.

Jack leaned against the locker and shook his head. Liberty Haley was a phenomenal athlete and she had tremendous amounts of dedication and discipline… but there was something wrong with the junior grand-champion who’d showed up at his studio almost six months earlier. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. Rio’s a dangerous town, honey, he said gently. I just don’t want my best girl getting hurt, is all.

Liberty shrugged as she knotted her boot laces. I’ll be okay, sifu, she assured him. She wished she was surer of her words, though. Jack knew what she was capable of, and if he was still worried about her making it home safe… Getting back to the house isn’t the problem.

Jack noted, as he had every time they’d spoken of it, that she never called her house home. Based on the address she’d given him when she enrolled, the house was in a pretty good neighborhood and the area between the studio and the residential portion of Achillea Drive was as safe as any place in Rio… which wasn’t saying much, but it was all he could really tell himself as he tried to look unworried.

I could drop you off…? he tried, already hearing her answer replaying like a broken record in his head.

I appreciate the offer, sifu, but I need the time to prepare.

Tonight, for some reason, Jack found his voice after her vague refusal. Prepare for what, Liberty?

Liberty shrugged as she picked up her school back and slipped her sketchbook off the shelf. "To deal with her," she said quietly.

Jack shook his head but didn’t continue the line of questioning. He didn’t know what had brought Liberty to Rio Hevrir or why she distanced herself from almost everyone else he saw her with, but he had learned that she and her mother had issues that seemed to have no resolution. It wasn’t worth getting her worked up.

Be careful, Liberty, he said quietly.

Liberty shouldered her backpack and walked toward the exit. Goodnight, sifu.

Liberty wondered, as she walked up Second Street, just how much more time she had before some idiot decided she was an easy target. The only people in this godforsaken little town that knew who she was and what she was capable of were the people she trained with at the studio. The egocentric tough-guys around her age, though… to them, Liberty was the new kid that just kept to herself and didn’t get into any trouble.

At some point, they’d be stupid enough to prey on her.

And even though it went against every ideology she had studied and embraced, today had been the sort of day when she found herself wishing someone would start shit with her as she walked alone down Rio Hevrir’s quickly emptying streets. The town seemed to roll the sidewalks up at dusk and the administrators at Rio Hevrir High blamed her restlessness on the differences between Seattle and Rio Hevrir and Liberty was content to leave them to their delusions. Her mother hadn’t made any attempts to give the school any sort of information, so why should she?

Of course, she’d also tricked her mother into signing over access to the bank accounts, but that had been purely out of survival. Serenity hadn’t crawled out of a bottle or missed a dose of any unnecessarily prescribed medication since they’d arrived in Rio Hevrir. In order to pay the mortgage and utilities and buy groceries, Liberty had been forced to trick her mother into signing the papers that gave her access to the alimony and child-support payments that came like clockwork from the office of her father’s attorney.

Well… well… well… What have we here?

Liberty cursed. She couldn’t deny she’d been wanting the fight, but she would have much rather had a little more warning. She’d let her mind wander, and as a result, she’d already lost some of her advantage.

But there were still cards she could play.

Liberty stopped and dropped her backpack and sketchbook on the sidewalk.

Oh look, Cal, one of the men laughed. You picked a tough girl. How cute.

She looked over at the two men, more annoyed with herself for letting them surprise her than she was any other part of the situation. At first glance they made her homesick, with their Levi’s and their All-Stars and their Pendletons, but that didn’t last long… there were differences between these two assholes and the guys she knew in Seattle. Huge ones.

How to treat a lady on the street being a prime example.

One of them was moving toward her. He was clumsy and slow, and she was certain he was going to depend on his size to take her down… and for any other girl her size she’d seen in this town, it would probably work. His problem, of course, was that she wasn’t just any other girl her size. All she really had to do was superimpose her father’s face on the man and try not to kill him.

Since he was the one moving toward her, she assumed the grinning slob was the one named Cal. He didn’t look quite old enough to stink of liquor as bad as he did, but the legal ramifications of the maybe nineteen year old being drunk off his ass weren’t really any of her concern. Liberty considered, for a fraction of a second, calling 9-1-1 on her cell phone. She knew she should, but if she didn’t take care of this joker in short order, then the cops would show up and take away all her fun.

It’s dangerous for a pretty little thing like you t’ be walkin’ alone, he slurred as he approached.

Is that so? Liberty replied innocently. She watched the man as he moved toward her, wondering if he was truly stupid enough or drunk enough to think that he could take her.

Oh yeah, pretty, he smiled. Didn’t they tell you Rio was full of bad men? His friend cackled as Cal approached her without any fear whatsoever. Even if he had a brain, Liberty decided sadly, he was too drunk to use it. There was nothing about his approach that gave any hint of skill or control. He was a waste of space and air and if anyone on the street was an easy target, it was him.

Guess I’m kind of a slow study, Liberty shrugged. She took a step away from her bag, hoping to keep blood and bodies from hitting her sketchbook. She rolled her head slowly from side to side and grinned. Come get some.

Cal moved quicker than she’d expected, but he was still sloppy and not at all quick enough to get the drop on her. She played with him for a few moments, dancing around him and reaching out to tap him on the nose and shoulder whenever his hands dropped away from his face. The first couple strikes he took missed her completely, and the next one only caught the extra leather in her brother’s jacket that hung off her small frame.

Liberty took a quick step backward with her eyes flashing and shook her head slowly. "See… now you’re pissing me off, you ugly son of a bitch! She smiled a bit as her fist landed squarely in the center of his face. ‘Cause attacking me is one thing, she continued as her electric blue Doc Marten crashed into his kneecap. But y’had to go and bring my brother into it, she laughed as he fell. See, that was your mistake."

She considered splitting his ribs with her boot, but that would have gone against everything she tried to tell herself was important. The threat had been neutralized. There was no reason to torture the bastard. Besides, he’d probably bleed on them, and getting them cleaned properly was as expensive as hell.

What about you? she snapped, never looking back up at the other man on the street. You want somma this?

N… no… I… um…

Liberty gave a disgusted snort as she knelt down and picked up her things. You might wanna get this asshole a doctor, she suggested with a laugh as she walked past Cal. I think he might be hurt.

Liberty walked the rest of the way in peace. She didn’t know if the drunken assholes in Rio Hevrir had some sort of information pipeline or if it had just gotten too dark for the rest of them, but whatever the case, the only problem she really had left was the fact that her mother hadn’t passed out yet. Liberty could hear her from the front porch, cursing loudly about some stupid thing or another and sending various household items crashing to the floor when she stumbled and fell against counters and tables.

Liberty sucked in a deep breath and put her key in the door. She’d been hoping her mother had already passed out; wishing she wouldn’t have to deal with the insanely intoxicated woman whose name was listed on her birth certificate. It had been a long day and she’d tried to keep herself under control but apparently, luck just wasn’t on her side.

Inside the house, Serenity reached haphazardly for the cheap whiskey she’d left on the table in the hall, knocking both the telephone and the table over as she fell against the wall. Libry? she yelled. "LIBBY? ‘zat you?"

Liberty cringed as she shut the door behind her. She’d grown to hate the way her mother slurred her name, and it didn’t matter how much she complained. There were days, when Liberty was more patient and compassionate, that she wondered if it was even possible for her mother to speak clearly at all, any more. She was always so drunk or stoned out of her mind on some bullshit prescription that there was no way she was in any sort of control.

It’s me, mom, she called over her shoulder, hoping to make it upstairs and into her attic refuge before Serenity could string enough sounds together through her stupor to sound like words.

Libby, c’mere! C’mere, baby!

Liberty sighed and rolled her eyes. I’ve got homework, mom, she called back desperately, knowing that it wouldn’t matter.

It can wait! Serenity called out loudly. More ‘portant things t’deal with tonight, Libby, she managed after several attempts.

Liberty shook her head and dropped her bag at the bottom of the staircase before following the trail of toppled and broken memories to where her mother now sat at the kitchen table.

Haf a sheat, Serenity slurred, slamming her hand down on the table near the other chair. We need to talk.

Liberty let out a sigh and sat down in the chair across from her mother. I’ve got homework to do, she repeated flatly.

Shkool called thatchoo missed too many days, Serenity hissed. Too many days without an excushe, and if you don’t go to shkool, I might go to jail. ME! In JAIL! You hafta go shkool, Libby!

They’d fine you, mom, Liberty pointed out uselessly. You’re not gonna end up in jail because I ditched history.

JAIL, Libby! Serenity wailed. Becaushe you won’ be good! Alesh never did this to me, she continued. Never ever made me worry or tried to send me to jail. Alesh wouldn’t…

Shut up, Liberty snapped. Just shut up you drunk bitch! You don’t get to talk about him! Liberty clamped her hands around the edge of the table and clenched her teeth in order to keep from crying. You have no fucking right to talk about him, she snarled. Not ever!

Alesh ish my son! Serenity argued, slamming the whiskey bottle down on the table.

Liberty knocked the chair over as she flew to her feet, leaning across the table to within an inch of her mother’s face. The smell of the whiskey was almost too strong for Liberty to breathe in without puking in the woman’s face, but she had no intention of even staying in the same room with Serenity long enough for the cheap booze to have any effect on her.

Victor had a son, she snarled. You had tax deductions.

Liberty kicked her toppled chair out of her way and walked toward the hallway. I’ve got tests, tomorrow, she said coldly. I don’t have time for you.

Serenity dropped her head in her hands and cried over her poor poor boy just long enough to realize Liberty wasn’t turning around before she pulled herself to her feet and stumbled across the floor to the hallway.

The resht the kids at shkool try to send their mothers to jail too? she called after Liberty, leaning on the banister and yelling up the stairs at her daughter’s back. They talk like you an try to hurt their mothers like you do?

Liberty stopped at the top and dropped her backpack on the floor. There were times, like now, when she wished her mother had gone to that nightmare club on New Year’s Eve. God knows she’d have been too drunk to survive the slaughter. Since Victor Haley had banished them to Rio Hevrir, Liberty had done everything she could think of to keep from going completely insane, and the little things she’d come up with to soothe the madness in her mind were quickly becoming a new art form for her. Like every other art form she embraced, though, Liberty took a rather unorthodox approach when it came to keeping her sanity… and the movie that had given her laughter and escape from reality played a huge part in the process.

Liberty looked back over her shoulder with a sardonic smile. Just me, baby, she answered in her best Ash Williams impression. Just me.

It took much longer than Serenity had anticipated for her to formulate a reply that didn’t consist entirely of screaming at her daughter to fuck off and by the time she managed to open her mouth, Liberty had reached the safety of the attic. There were several reasons Liberty had taken over the attic within the first few days in her new home: the light was better longer and there was more space to work out and, perhaps the most important of all, Serenity couldn’t manage to climb the ladder. Liberty’s bedroom had always been a refuge and in Seattle her brother had been the only other person who had been welcome there. When he died, it slowly transformed from refuge to prison… but she refused to leave it.

The attic in Rio Hevrir was definitely a refuge. It was the only place she could be free. She could feel her brother’s presence there, sometimes, and waffled between believing her twin brother was watching over her and writing it off as wishful thinking. Either way, she was pretty sure the reality of it was that it was just her way of coping with the fact that she’d lost the only person who ever gave a damn about her.

Liberty dropped her backpack on her bed and set her sketchbook carefully onto the drawing table before walking over to the stereo and tuning Serenity’s drunken ravings out once and for all. Liberty dropped her newest musical acquisition into the stereo and pushed the volume up as loud as she could stand it. She didn’t care what Serenity thought, or what the neighbors thought, or what anyone in this godforsaken hellhole of a town thought about her or them or anything. Humming along with the music, she crawled out the window and sat on the edge of the roof. She could see the neighbors in their living room next door scowling toward her house.

Liberty glared down at the neighbors’ house and shook her head. Bunch of damned busybody bastards, she grumbled as she leaned back on the roof and joined in the song, singing loudly as she stared up into the night sky. I feel like I am nothing but you made me, so do something, she howled along with the stereo. Cause I’m fucked up ‘cause you are, need attention… attention you wouldn’t give…

Chapter Three

Two hundred forty miles doesn’t seem like a long way, but the topographical distance between Rio Hevrir and Delora Valley was intensified by the differences in manners, mindsets, and mysteries that plagued the residents.

Of course, in Delora Valley, there really was nothing that plagued the residents.

Not according to any sort of reports or crime indexes, at any rate.

The security forces employed by the ludicrously rich citizens of the elite community were paid well to keep the names and hands of their bosses clean. Private forces kept the peace and kept the streets clear of troublesome tourists and the assorted riff-raff that occasionally wandered into the coastal oasis.

Nestled above one of the state’s most exclusive country clubs, the Rutherford Academy watches over Delora Valley like a wolf; ready to pounce on the first threat that manages to find the pups in her den. Established by a group of the town’s original residents, the Academy had educated the children of the isolated community for almost a century. Rutherford alumni had placed themselves in every possible position of power they could manage and each new generation of students was trained to embrace the same sort of ambitions.

Joshua Forester was an excellent student and quite possibly the next poster-boy for Rutherford. To anyone who paid attention to such things (and in Delora Valley, that was everyone), he was the charming and sophisticated sort of young man who would easily take over his father’s multi-million dollar entertainment empire… if he didn’t choose to go into politics instead. This afternoon, though, all the ambitions his peers had for him were far from his mind. The promise of year-end exams loomed over the campus, but while others in the dorm were buried in textbooks Joshua simply paced along the balcony and stared out at gray waves that crept closer and closer to the houses that sat on the private beaches at the edge of town. He’d grown up here in Rutherford’s dormitories, going home to his parents on holidays and during the summer. The arrangement didn’t bother him as much as it did some of his classmates but there were days – like today – when all he wanted was to be free.

He knew he had a duty to his family to learn what he needed here at Rutherford. It would assure his entrance into his pick of the best universities in the world and give him the education he would need to successfully take over Forester Enterprises when the time came.

Right now, though, that duty was the last thing he wanted to think about and the only thing he could. No matter what he did to try to keep his mind off it, all he could think of was Halloween.

His father couldn’t possibly expect him to be an accessory to that sort of… he didn’t even know what to call it. All he really knew, even after all these months, was that his father had somehow been involved in the bloodbath that still baffled police. Almost a hundred people had died that night, all from injuries coroners called reminiscent of an animal attack. He’d caught things out of the corner of his eye… things he couldn’t explain or believe… but he’d done his duty to his family and remained silent. The only real peace of mind he could hold onto was the fact that a similar massacre in Seattle two months later hadn’t been at a Forester club.

On top of the massacre, there was the problem of the girls – that quartet of hotties that had come back to Dreamweavers after growing bored of the other parties… the same quartet of girls that his father’s personal assistant had ushered in even after the monsters had descended on the crowd. He’d recognized at least one of the girls that night, which was part of the reason he’d hung around. Though he couldn’t remember her name at the time and he didn’t know what the hell was going on inside Dreamweavers, he knew he’d seen the girl around school and he was fairly certain that the slaughter of a Rutherford student wasn’t part of the plan. The interior of the club was bathed in blood and though he didn’t know what was going on, he was glad to see that his suspicion in that particular case had been correct.

He was still there when the girls stumbled out of the club in terrified shock and Josh found himself breathing a sigh of relief that the one girl he’d recognized was still alive. One of the truths of the world they lived in, though, was that Rutherford families were untouchable… and it seemed even