Fate's Exchange (Twisted Fate Book 1)

By Sasha Leigh

Death wants her. Fate has already claimed her. Angels protect her.

When Alyssa Frank dies trying to save herself from a brutal attack, she finds that second chances do exist. Now, reliving the final week leading to her death, can she discover the right choices in a sea of wrong? Or will her circumstances never change? Death always makes its quota, and Alyssa has made its list.

With new love brewing and friendships on the line, what happens when chances run out?

Can she survive?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sasha Leigh
• Release date: Sep 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311267429

Sasha Leigh

Sasha Leigh is a self-diagnosed dreamer. When she isn't stuck in worlds of her own making, listening to characters squabble for attention in her head, she's immersed in stories created by others. A lover of all things "weird", Sasha's world is considered complete when she has her daughter at her side, her sketchpad, notebook, and something to write with - even if it's just a piece of chalk. Working by day in the insurance industry, she spends her evenings and weekends devouring or writing new tales of magic, mythology, and all things supernatural (except dragons).

Book preview

Alyssa

I heard them before I saw them, but by then, it was too late.

For the first time ever, I cut out of study hall early and followed a shifty-looking group of students I didn’t know as they crept out of the library unseen. Miss Carmichael, the college student completing her final practicum before becoming a real teacher, was too engrossed with texting her fiancé from her perch on a stool behind the check-out counter to even notice us slip past. I didn’t see another teacher as we quietly made our way through the halls that lead us out of the school.

As soon as we cleared the back door of Royal Academy, I broke from the group to head straight while they rounded the side of the building, out of sight. I was grateful that spring had arrived with a smiling sun to melt the remnants of snow hidden between the trees in the woods that lay just past the sports fields ahead. After being grounded for a week, the first day of the weekend marked freedom. Not even the chill from the not-so-warming breeze could ruin my good mood.

With the conclusion of my favorite series, Fallen, by Lauren Kate, in my hand, I hurried through the dampened, ankle-deep grass that had yet to be cut since the change of seasons. The open greens behind Royal Academy were large enough to fit two football fields with ease, with running tracks surrounding them to look like a figure eight. At the edge of the field where the grass ended, the dense woods that separated our school from Elixir High School began. It was barely a kilometer thick, but it was the perfect place to escape. The treehouse that I loved to go to read and be alone, shutting out the world, was just behind the first bunch of trees. It was secluded, surrounded by nothing but woods, and mine.

With a smile, already starting to feel the full-body pleasure that engulfed me when I was able to turn off my brain to live in a fictional world, I ran until my shoulders throbbed from the jostle of my heavy bag and I was left breathless. Almost there. The lawn brushing my ankles shortened and turned to brown, the muddy, rock-ridden ground too harsh for planting. Just another hundred meters and you’ll be surrounded by trees, closer to the treehouse and unseen by the world. My smile grew, and I exhaled.

"Hey! Honey!" a guy shouted from behind me.

I peered over my shoulder and felt my breath hitch. Just as quickly, I turned forward and kept my gaze on the ground, picking up my speed. Irrationally, my heart began to race.

Five Elixir High School students—three boys and two girls—were following me, though I had no idea why they were coming from my school and not theirs. Or had they cut through the woods and doubled back when they saw me walking alone? I was so eager to leave that I hadn’t been paying attention, and their heavy footsteps had been masked by the sound of my heart as I ran across the field. Now, I felt each step as it drummed a beat beneath me as though the earth was hollow. They blocked my way back to Royal Academy, leaving me one direction to flee: forwards, into the woods. Every other direction was fenced off.

My heart raced. Just ignore them and they’ll go away.

But somehow, I knew there would be no ignoring this bunch. Maybe I could, if I wasn’t alone, but now? Alone? No, they looked like the reason the new program—some delinquent outreach thingamajiggy—had been integrated into their school. With another shoulder-check, I saw smoke curl into the air, the tip of the joint they shared glowing red as each took a puff. The breeze carried the stench forward, so strong it was like I could feel myself turning green, and my stomach rolled. I focused forward and tried to move faster, gaining much-needed distance without being obvious.

This felt bad. They hadn’t even done anything, I knew. My gut told me that I shouldn’t trust them, though, and I was too scared to turn back the way I came. Even the thought of stopping to unzip my bag to grab my phone made me want to hurl. They can’t catch up to me if I don’t stop. I bent my head and continued forward.

The newscaster of my parents’ favorite post-supper program filtered through my thoughts: Several unprovoked attacks over the last few weeks have escalated, leaving the citizens of Hidden Springs and the neighboring population of Border City locking their doors and staying home at night. It is this station’s advice to stay home or within large crowds once darkness falls.

Could I escape, cut out too fast for them to notice? If they were really super, I-can’t-pass-third-grade-gym-class-I’m-so-stoned, I could. Because seriously? I couldn’t pass second-grade gym class, sober.

Ooh, she looks like a librarian, one of the three boys slurred. Duke, do you like librarians?

Except for the book in my hands, I looked nothing like a librarian. In black leggings, sneakers, and a hoody pulled up against the wind, today I looked more like a borderline Goth without the make-up, black hair, and total ‘I hate my life’ bemoaning. Not that I ever paid enough attention to know if that’s what they were like, but still. Not a librarian.

No, she doesn’t, another boy said, just as sluggish as the first. Were they drunk as well as stoned? Great. But she’s hot. Hey! I bet she knows where it is.

Dude, she’s fugly, one of the girls said.

I stumbled, looking at the group over my shoulder as I corrected myself. No longer silhouetted in shadows now that they’d crossed the middle of the field, I noticed the girl who spoke was small, wispy, and in desperate need of a shower with her dark unwashed hair hanging in strings to frame a thin, too-pale face.

The first boy I saw had short brown hair and clothes that hung. The other girl, stockier than the first, glared with a permanent scowl painted on her face and tight clothes that hugged her attributes in all the wrong ways. The third boy had dark, sandy blonde hair and was wearing clean, almost fashionable dark-wash jeans and a sky-blue hoody. If it weren’t for his taste in friends, I could think he was cute.

I just about tripped again when my gaze met the watchful stare belonging to the fifth student, and my heart raced up to clog my airways. Evil. Or, at least what I imagined evil would look like if it had a face: sharp and chiseled... dark, and completely void of emotion. He was huge, at least six-four, and built like someone who threw trees—not just branches, but whole, you-cut-them-and-I’ll-haul-them trunks of chopped forest.

Creepy.

His mouth lifted at the corners and my eyes focused back to the woods in front of me, and I had to remember to breathe. The stone fence was the finish line. Circling the field, it angled down to form a doorway, separating the woods from the fields with a wrought iron gate. As their steps thundered in my ears, the fear of their presence hit me with a cold splash of full-body perspiration, and I fumbled with my book. If I could get past those gates, which automatically locked when closed, I’d buy myself enough time to get away. All day, all I’d wanted was to go read in the fort that I’d visited since I was a child. Now, I would just be happy to get away and run home. Then lock the door behind me.

"Hey! Honey! Where’d your boyfriends hide our statue?" a boy called.

Their statue? Lucky Chuck? I’d heard of the damned thing—everyone knew about it. Whatever school had Lucky Chuck in their possession on game day was destined to win and each player took their turn rubbing its golden bald head just before the game began—for luck. It was the source of many, many pranks. I hadn’t seen it, not even once. No matter which sport was in season—football, basketball, soccer—whoever had the statue always hid it, trying to keep others from stealing it.

Leave me alone, I said, so low it would surprise me if they’d heard.

They are so close.

My breath came in shortened bursts. It was as though each heartbeat was trying to outrun the last, suffocating me with the frenzied race. If I weren’t alone, I’d tell them to bugger off. If my best friend, Tina, was here, she’d tell them to go away. She lacked the self-preservation others held on to for survival and had the mouth of a farmer: blunt, loud, and dirty—so offensive she had learned to enjoy the taste of soap. Tina didn’t take crap from anyone. Maybe, if I knew what was good for me, it was time for me to channel some of that attitude.

No, do not argue and they’ll go away.

Except that they weren’t going anywhere. Despite my increased pace, there was no longer any distance separating us. I couldn’t get past the feeling that this was just... not good. If I didn’t find a way to get away, they were going to make sure I regretted it. I didn’t know it for a fact, of course, but I felt it. It was just as I somehow knew that they were involved with the attacks my parents had been watching on the news every night over the last week. Looking for a statue? No way was any of them involved in an organized sport, let alone cared about a statue that embodied school spirit.

Run. Fast! Now, before it’s too late.

TWO

Look, we just need our statue, okay? The second girl sounded husky, as though suffering the side effects of a pack-a-day habit. The girl, who I decided to call Bitchy, reached out and flicked me in the back of my head.

Stop it, I ordered, refusing to reach up and rub my hair so they couldn’t realize the effect they were having on me. Why did I have to cut out early from study hall to read in the woods alone? Why hadn’t I grabbed for my phone when I’d first seen them instead of worrying about stopping too long and letting them catch up? Who cared if they were able to reach me if it meant someone else was going to show up? Or if I’d stayed beside the school where everyone was bound to show up as soon as the bell rang?

It was so stupid.

I’m stupid.

Where’s the statue? Bitchy asked, stepping up so that the tips of her shoe scuffed the heel of mine, and I almost fell.

I clenched my teeth and balled my fists at my sides, but she did it again.

Stop it, I growled, clenching my teeth as I kept a death grip on the shoulder strap of my bag.

Everyone laughed.

Look, we have a tournament this weekend against your punk-ass basketball team and we need it back, the whiney voice of the first girl chimed.

Right. As if skill isn’t enough. I shot them another look and was surprised to see the massive boy’s arm snaked around her waist. I turned away, the feel of his eyes boring through me and sickening my stomach even more than the stench of their hobby.

I don’t know where it is, I said, keeping my eyes on the ground. Go ask someone on the team. I was pretty sure it wasn’t basketball season but was too scared to point that out.

Someone knocked my book out of my fingers. I couldn’t see who, but it didn’t matter. No one was innocent. How could a group so out of it they couldn’t even pull a sentence together without slurring manage such synchronized movements? Since I couldn’t picture any one of them involved in a team sport, I didn’t even want to imagine what they wanted Lucky Chuck for, if at all. It’s just an excuse. Just as I’d known they were bad news the moment I saw them across the field, I knew this.

Look, I don’t know where the statue is, I said, finding my voice again, and was proud that it was louder than a whisper. I just want to go home—

They reached out and grabbed me, cutting me off. I screamed, automatically covering my head with my hands, and I felt my shoulder jostle as my bag fell to the underside of my elbow before I felt like I was being pulled in every direction from all sides.

My clothing ripped like the sound of a piece of paper torn down its center. They clutched the fabric without mercy, twisting and turning, and I tried to wrench myself away. I was so desperate to be free that holes soon appeared in places that were meant to be covered, and my skin flared with humiliation.

The attacks only happened at night! Why were they doing this? What did I do?

Let me go! I grunted and managed a quick step away before standing straight. With all my might, I reached back for power and then flung out my bag full of the weekend’s homework. Narrowing my eyes and gritting my teeth, I smiled, triumphant when the heavy bag hit two of them with a clunking sound as it arched through the air.

You’ll pay for that! Bitchy spat on the ground and shrugged her shoulders, dancing like a boxer in the ring. She stepped into my line of sight, preparing to flick me in the head again.

At least, that’s what I hoped she meant to do, but I wasn’t willing to take the chance. Swinging my fist and closing my eyes, my knuckles connected with her jaw. She screamed and hit me back in the stomach. The breath whooshed from my lungs as my body doubled over as I landed on my knees hard. I didn’t know what hurt more: my stomach or my fist. At least my hand is throbbing for a worthy cause.

You can’t do this. My voice came out as a moan and I crawled across the hard, broken soil of gravel and mud far enough to get to my feet without the fear of being pushed back to the ground. The not-so-warming breeze had become bitter as the holes in my clothes fluttered. No amount of trying to grasp them to cover myself was helping and finally, I gave up.

They looked at one another and laughed.

The large boy dropped his hand from the girl’s waist and took a step forward. Smiling so that I could see a gap in between his two front teeth, he met my gaze and said, "But we won’t be caught. We never are."

They’re never...Oh. My. God! I slapped my hand over my mouth and shook my head, feeling my stomach drop to meet his feet. Why didn’t I run when I had a chance to get away? Now, the irrational fear I had felt when I saw them was validated. It isn’t a statue they are after.

Y-you can’t do this. I dropped my hand and tried to step back, but my foot was stuck in a sinkhole of mud, which was the only deviation to the hard ground at the edge of the woods. Soft, wet, inescapable as it sucked my shoe down, down, down... Darting my gaze between the group and my foot, I sucked in my breath and said, "I’ve seen you. I-I know where you go to school."

I pulled on my foot again but froze when the large boy looked at me with cold brutality. He glanced around, regarded his friends with even stares, and then nodded. They circled around to crowd me on all sides, laughing at my naivety.

It was so close. I almost made it. The shadow of the gate cast against my skin, mocking me with its proximity, and I started to step backward.

But someone stuck their foot out to trip me. Bitchy, who stood in front of me, sprinted forward and shoved my shoulders. I teetered and then fell, and my foot jostled free. The mud coated my skin through the holes in my clothes, turning the white of my bra brown. Damn. It felt like I’d broken my ass. Could that happen? Or was breaking your ass like ‘breaking a boob’—totally painful, but impossible. Pay attention, Alyssa. They don’t care about your ass.

I looked back up, my eyes widening as they smirked down at me. I held my breath. There was a moment of pure silence—it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds that were so quiet, even the sounds of animals and the rustling of the breeze seemed to be set on pause. Then, they pounced. Each person savagely tried to take a piece of me as though someone had flung a fifty to the ground and screamed, Finders, Keepers! after failing to advise that they couldn’t rip it into pieces and share.

Stop it! I screamed until my throat was raw, hoping someone—anyone—had left school early and could hear me. That the students I had followed had changed their mind and came back to school instead of disappearing out of sight.

Shut up, Bitchy said.

Not so uppity now, are you, you Royal Bitch? the large boy snarled right before he slapped me. This is so much more fun in the daytime. I can see how scared you are. I don’t know why we didn’t start this sooner. Your Royals think you are so much better than us, and we are here to tell you that you’re wrong.

Just as I found the effort to climb to my knees, my body twisted sideways from the power behind his attack as he hit me yet again, and I fell to my side. My hand cupped my cheek. What the—Ouch.

They dragged me by my arms and hair towards the gate I had coveted when I first saw them until it felt like someone had taken a grater to my back. I wanted to scream but no sound emerged. Sweat rolled down my spine and into the open wounds the rocky ground had created like acid gnawing into my skin. It burrowed deeper and deeper until the only place for it to go was out the other side. I tried to turn onto my stomach to slacken their grips, to create a relief in the fire burning my spine. The pull on my scalp loosened and I saw large tufts of my white-blonde hair fall beside me like dysmorphic flakes of snow the sun would never melt.

The relief lasted just long enough for holds to be reaffirmed, even tighter than before.

I kicked air and finally found my voice again, but I screamed for help that wouldn’t come. My pain mutated into a sense of nothing. Despite my hopes, all my efforts were wasted. Everything I tried seemed only to provoke their drug-induced hatred. As I struggled to free myself, they struck me harder, evading my thrashing until I tired myself out.

Minutes seemed like hours. I tried to keep fighting, but soon my limbs were filled with the weight of fast-drying concrete, and all I managed was a whimper. The sky burst into brilliance. Grateful for an escape, no matter its form, I closed my eyes and lost all sense of reality.

Darkness was good; I was oblivious within its uncompromising hold.

THREE

Finding consciousness was like waking from a nightmare without the benefit of daylight, though I knew it wasn’t a dream because my body felt like it was on fire. Everything hurt. I bit my lip and tried to determine where I was, though it was hard to see. Dusk filled my vision. All around, the wet, moldy leaves bunched on the ground, casting shadows to taunt me like jagged-edged boulders piled to be hurled my way. There was no real way to tell what time it was, though the sunset suggested at least seven. Not yet summer, it was dark by eight.

My parents were going to be pissed. Had Tina called yet? If my phone wasn’t crushed within my bag, it wouldn’t matter anyway—it was still on silent because I hadn’t taken it out when I left, and I didn’t even know if my bag had made it into the woods with me. Maybe someone would see it laying in the field and wonder if something was wrong? Maybe my parents would intuitively know I was gone against my will and come looking for me... I never went off on my own, not without my phone, and they’d made sure I knew to be home before dark since before I was old enough to tell time. Even without the events playing out on the news during the past week, it had been ingrained during my whole childhood. Bad things happened at night, they’d always said.

Through eyes swollen to slits, I looked down, finally feeling like I was willing to try to move despite the flaming pain throughout my entire body. But I couldn’t shift my body to get a better look around me. The bunch of leaves surrounding the trunk’s base flattened beneath me to rise at my sides like I was sitting in a bean bag chair. I felt that my arms, already like soft noodles hardened by exposure, were tied behind my back around a tree. My shoulder blades stretched until they burned, the trunk too large for my small frame.

I forced my eyes wider. Feeling like it was the only part of my body that hadn’t been broken, I was able to move my neck just enough to look around. Forgotten and alone, the forest was damp with leaves scattering the ground. Free from litter but reeking of snow mold, the bitterness that lingered on my tongue was strong enough to induce headaches, and my head swam. The only break from the trees my limited vision registered was four of the Elixir students sitting in a misshapen circle. They passed a pipe that steamed to fill the air while sharing a bottle filled with a clear liquid. Judging by their sourdough faces, it wasn’t water. As soon as their actions registered, another, more pressing question caused me to stiffen with fear of the unknown. Where was the fifth? The boy who taunted with such brutal force.

Have you ever shot a deer?

I recoiled from the sound as the missing boy spoke from my right. The bark of the tree bit into the raw wounds on my back, and I held my agony back with a wince, squeezing my eyes shut as the breath whooshed from my lungs. Slowly, I opened them again, not wanting to let him see my pain and feel victory in it. My gaze darted from the group and then finally, to the boy.

I’m trapped.

You should try it, he continued from his perch on a boulder a few feet away, his elbows resting on his knees. Without looking up from the stake he was carving with a silver pocketknife decorated with black skulls, he said, Make sure you watch their eyes once they’re in your sights. Wait until they know what’s coming. You’ll see them go from docile to frightened— he snapped his fingers, and my hands twitched, the ties holding my arms back pinching the skin at my wrists—to dead. He looked up and smiled. "It’s fascinating."

I sucked in a breath. You’re sick.

He lunged forward and squeezed my cheeks until my lips pursed, popping as they were forced to open. His fist was like an oversized clamp digging into my bruised skin. Glaring at him, determined not to show fear, I could see his eyes were glazed and crazy, bloodshot and erratic. Releasing me, he smiled, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief.

He lifted his fist and feinted right, and then laughed to the sky, dropping his arm back to his side. Still smiling, he turned to go back to his rock, but then twirled faster than I could blink and kicked me.

My body folded around my stomach. Over-correcting, my back slammed into the tree and my head ricocheted forward so that my chin rested on my chest. Stars danced through the darkness edging my vision as my organs were pushed up to meet my heart. My breath rushed out like a popped balloon as the snap of foot against bone cracked the air as fiercely as it had my rib. I refused to cry out. Not only would I not give him the satisfaction, I was worried that if I opened my mouth, the nausea that was swirling within me would make itself known to the world by bringing up the miniscule lunch I’d eaten earlier.

I bit my lip against the pain and started to paw the ground behind me, raising my chin with defiance. The sun had set, and the trees blocked the slivers of the moon’s glimmering glow. Only the shadows of trees and my captors were visible, illuminated by the slight burn of the security lamps around the school an entire field away. Thankfully, they aren’t activated by motion or there would be no light at all. I continued to pat the ground in the two-inch diameter my confines allowed. Desperate, I extended my reach as far as I could without crying out in pain as my back skid against the tree. There must be something.

My hand tightened around what felt like a rock with scalpel-like edges and, despite the needles of incapacity crawling up my arms, I managed to maintain a firm hold. Do not fall asleep, I warned my limbs. I’m going to escape.

Josh! the wispy girl called and stood to try to grab his arm.

He tossed her back to the ground like a leg weight that joggers used while running—always annoying and uncomfortable, but never a hindrance. Bitchy, who had been watching with amused yet remote interest, while totally favoring the bruised jaw I was proud to take credit for, ran to her friend’s side. She glared, staring not at Josh, but at me, with accusation.

Be quiet, Sarah, Bitchy warned without shifting her gaze.

Bit-by-bit, I sawed the rock harder against the ropes—back and forth, back and forth—not wanting my movements to alert them. I fought the wince of acknowledgment, pausing only long enough to regain traction. Pushing deep, I put the last of my strength into the effort to escape, ignoring the pain as the rock’s sharp edge repeatedly nicked my skin. My arms were weakening, losing feeling. As sweat trickled into my palms, warm in contrast to the cold numbness taking over the rest of my body, my skin pinched as I struggled to keep ahold of the rock.

Josh, Sarah panted, pulling herself up onto her elbows. Please, just stop. She doesn’t know where it is.

He didn’t listen. He was cracked, obviously insane before the additional aid of whatever drugs they’d taken. I’d never seen anything like it, and I’d seen a lot—the rich kids I went to school with knew how to party with Daddy’s credit cards and Mommy’s medications. They swapped and traded it all in addition to whatever was in their parents’ liquor cabinets. But even Josh’s friends, who had been gung-ho at the start of their so-called adventure, had been sobered by his cruelty.

She’s right.

The smallest boy stepped up on Josh’s right while the remaining boy stepped up on his left. It was impossible to discern their features now, let alone learn their names, though I remembered one being called Duke. Neither was big enough to take down the one they called Josh—he was demented, a giant of a boy who sounded like a man. But maybe... If they were to combine their efforts, they could beat his ass like he’d beaten mine.

She knows, Josh said, pinching his lips into a firm line as he kept his gaze on me.

She would’ve told us by now.

He’s right. She doesn’t know, Josh, the small boy reasoned, and then nodded to his friend. Look, nobody’s at Royal Academy anymore. Let’s just find a way in and look around for it. I’m sure there is another way that you can get the statue to show that prick you don’t like from the team up when no one from either school can find it.

"She knows."

Josh flashed his friends a glance I couldn’t see, and instantly the fight went out of everyone. They went back to their circle with lowered eyes. Was that so that they couldn’t see me? Speak no evil, see no evil... I’d have to make sure they could hear me, then. I couldn’t move, but in my mind, I kicked Josh in his goodies until his goodies wouldn’t do him or anyone else any good anymore. He sat on the ground in front of me and rested his forearms on his knees.

What do you want from me? The razor blades in my throat cut my voice to fragments.

"We know that your school took the statue. Where’s it, hmm? Come on. If you tell us, I’ll