Amber Grey "The Lost City"

By J. L. Coalwell

Amber Grey was born with a powerful gift; the forces of nature are irrevocably bound to her emotions. Her joy emits blinding, sparkling light, her sorrow forms clouds, and her anger can summon lightning bolts. A flash of Amber’s emotion has the ability to hurt others—her greatest fear, but it can also evoke calm. As a budding teenager, this power takes strength and courage to harness.
In this sequel to Amber Grey, calm before the storm, the impetuous, curly-haired blonde faces the drama of romantic love and battles the forces of evil in an epic showdown. Amber is allied with the Protectors, a group of people born with superhuman talents, whose mission is to preserve and protect the world from harm. Their challenge lies in confronting the forces of evil, manifested in a group known as the Misusers—those who use their natural-born gifts for control and power over others for personal gain. As the Misusers take Amber’s baby brother hostage, Amber is lured into a web of mystery and adventure across the globe, and sometimes those closest to her heart are the people who create the biggest emotional storms for her.
On her journey to rescue her brother from the Lost City, a secret and sacred site belonging for centuries to the Misusers, Amber learns that her special gift may hold more weight than she ever imagined. From Paris to Damascus to the Swiss Alps, Amber’s trek is filled with light, love, loss, and reconciliation. Young Amber Grey is unwittingly chosen to fulfill a daunting task, one only the forces of nature could help her see to fruition.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brighton Publishing LLC
• Release date: Jun 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781621831198

J. L. Coalwell

J. L. Coalwell lives at the foot of the beautiful Wasatch Mountains in Utah with her family. Since the release of Book One of the Amber Grey Trilogy, Amber Grey: calm before the storm, she has traveled throughout the US presenting writing workshops, and she also serves as a motivational speaker for America’s rising generation, visiting thousands of students in high schools and universities. Her focus is the power of positive choice.She owns and runs a small dessert business, and claims that nothing in life is more satisfying than the joy of sharing love with family and good friends.

Book preview

Amber Grey

The Lost City

A Novel

J. L. Coalwell

Brighton Publishing LLC

435 N. Harris Drive

Mesa, AZ 85203

Copyright © 2014

ISBN: 978-1-62183-119-8

eBook

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All the characters in this book are fictitious and the creation of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Dedications

This book is dedicated to all who will sacrifice, stand, and fight for a better world, and to my children: Sophia, Kailon, Nicholas, Sasha, and Isabelle, who make my world better every day.

Acknowledgements

Special thanks to my incredibly supportive husband.

And thanks to the best publisher an author could ask for, particularly Kathie McGuire, Brighton Publishing. Thanks for your work on my behalf!

Chapter One

Amber and Donavan exited his enormous, lodge-style house just west of Manassas, Virginia at 7:15 that morning, and bolted down the highway in his glossy black Saab, their backs to a brilliant, scarlet sunrise, heading toward Front Royal. The day was June 6th, Amber’s fourteenth birthday, and her stomach twirled anxiously as she reviewed the narrative she would soon present to her grandmother, Julia Grey, regarding the previous evening’s horrible events. She simultaneously struggled to avert her eyes from Donavan, the most incredibly good-looking boy she’d ever met, as she rode in the passenger’s seat straining to appear mostly uninterested in him.

The trip home took less than forty minutes, and Donavan interrupted Amber’s thoughts often by soliciting information about her unusual talents. She skirted as many questions as possible, turning the queries on him and speaking blatantly about her opinions and beliefs; she enjoyed humbling this, in her view, overly confident rich kid.

Amber had been born to the gifted race, a small population who possess amplified talents, thus enabling them to act or think beyond a human’s normal scope. Although she was a direct descendant of the first known gift possessor, Joshua, who held the ability to look into a man’s heart and discern intentions, unrelated lineages had sprung up over the centuries, dotting the globe.

Amber’s was a gift of power far more potent than any other had possessed. The prophesy at her birth proclaimed that she would be the great hope for this generation, that she would wield the power to defeat; the winds, the skies, the waters, the very firmament would be visited by her pure will, and that the elements would obey her. Until this point in her life, her grandfather had trained her to develop these talents and progress toward her destiny.

Amber’s insides lurched to her throat and she reached forward to the dashboard as they rolled onto her block. Oh, no, she breathed. Police cars lined the road directly in front of her house.

Guilt swarmed, manifesting itself as tiny prickles across her forehead when she recalled the boy who’d attacked her the previous night—maybe he wasn’t okay after all. She noticed her grandmother’s car parked across the street. Donavan’s expression dropped as he pulled in behind the familiar vehicle. I should probably stick around, he offered quietly, gauging Amber’s horrified expression.

Yeah, maybe—wait out here, though. She noted the trembling in her hand as she reached for the door.

Wait, he pulled her back, I’m sorry this is happening on your birthday.

Not your fault, but thanks. She exited the car, breathed deeply while pausing to adjust her expression, and strode bravely to the front door.

Grandmother had been pacing the foyer, and halted to lock eyes with her granddaughter. Amber! Oh my goodness, you’re safe! She reached up to place a loving hand on Amber’s cheek, and her expression switched from relief to worry. What’s happened to you? Her eyes stretched to Amber’s neck.

Amber steadied herself. I was attacked last night, outside the dance.

Julia covered a hand over her mouth, and glanced toward the approaching police officer. Miss, are you Amber?

Amber’s stomach leaped again, and she nodded, Yes.

Would you please follow me? He led her to the living room where her mother sat sobbing on the couch, her father’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. He looked up and rose to greet his daughter.

What’s going on? she asked, confused. Why in the world would her mother be crying if they were here to arrest her?

Dara had always shunned Amber because of her abnormalities, knowing nothing of the gifted ones, and despising anything that could possibly cast a shadow on her reputation. It didn’t make sense.

Amber’s father’s face was gray and appeared as though he’d aged five years overnight. It’s Alex—he’s gone. They think he was abducted in the night, Tom explained. His voice broke, and his eyes dropped to her throat. You’re hurt, he managed to say.

Don’t worry about that right now. You should take care of Mom. Amber moved numbly to the kitchen and dropped herself into the nearest chunky alder chair, the police officer trailing closely. She had to remind herself to take a breath. Alex—gone? she thought. Amber stared blindly at the thick, wooden striations spanning the kitchen table length, images of her eight-year-old brother filling her mind—his smile, his merry, mischievous green eyes. Abducted?

There were two sets of police officers and a detective in the house, and all studied Amber as she relayed a muted version of her previous night’s experience, omitting curious and possibly self-incriminating details.

She’d been attacked in the junior high’s schoolyard, drawn away from the year’s end dance by a girl who had once been her friend—Bethany Porter. It had been almost two years since Bethany had witnessed a portion of Amber’s extraordinary abilities. Amber had been sobbing on the bridge that extended from her backyard over the wide, rushing river, ending at Mr. Sanders’ horse pastures. The sky had mimicked Amber’s emotion, as it always did, and rain had coursed from above. She’d brightened as she’d spotted Bethany’s approach, and the clouds had parted directly above her head, allowing sunlight to break through. Amber had realized her error too late, and the clouds rushed back overhead while Bethany gawked in fear, and repulsion. They hadn’t spoken another word to each other until last night when Bethany had drawn her away from the dance and led her to a vicious encounter with several drunken teenagers—Bethany’s friends, all bent on tormenting Amber.

And you don’t recall the names of any of these kids? The detective eyed her suspiciously.

She sighed heavily. They were Bethany’s friends, Bethany Porter. And the only other name I know is Rachel. You don’t think they had something to do with Alex being gone, do you? she squeaked, holding in threatening grief.

He studied his electronic notepad. It’s a possibility. We’ll check it out. This Donavan Demoine—is he available to speak to? The officer looked up at Amber’s face.

Umm, yeah, she replied, wiping away a tear that had overflowed, and then she sighed when more trickled unwillingly. I’ll call him in.

It wasn’t long before Donavan had collaborated with her story, and then the two were left alone. They retreated to the front porch, watching bleak walls of rain dropping before them as Amber silently wept.

Donavan, for once, seemed at a loss for words. He’d glance at her and try to speak, but then close his mouth again.

I want you to tell me if there’s anything I can do to help, he finally said. Anything. He caught her eye.

Thanks, she answered softly, plunging her fingers through her long layers of thick, curly, golden hair, holding her head, elbows propped up on her thighs. It was nice of you to stick around and talk to them. She sniffled, breathed in deeply, and wiped her face. I’d better go check on Anna. I haven’t seen her yet. And she exhaled slowly.

The rain quickly dissipated and dark clouds gradually dispersed, allowing the bright morning sun to break through in patches. Donavan observed the transformation, awestruck. It’s because of you, isn’t it? That’s how you know when it’s going to rain—because it rains when you cry. He watched for her reply.

She shrugged her shoulders. She felt too numb to speak.

He shifted his position and squatted in front of her. Do the other things happen because of your emotion, too? he pressed.

She sighed. Can we talk about this another time?

He looked down, and then met her eyes again. Sure. No problem.

He stood. I’m going to take off. I’ve got to work on my phone. Go talk to your sister. He reached down and held her face in his hand, then released it and bolted across the street.

Amber rose and winced. She really did need to have her knee checked; it had been ripped open during her flight the night before and fresh blood seeped through her makeshift bandage. She tugged down on the hem of her borrowed blue sundress and headed for her sister’s room.

Anna? Can I come in? Amber cracked the door and peeked inside. Anna was huddled on her bedroom floor, her back leaning against the side of her mint colored bedspread, knees pulled to her chest, and she rocked back and forth. She glanced up to Amber with red, swollen eyes, her face drawn and pale.

Amber hurried and sat next to her. He’s going to be okay, she insisted, wrapping an arm around her sister’s shoulders, and Anna released a jerking sob, and then peered into her sister’s eyes.

I saw it. I saw it happen weeks ago, and I ignored it. She buried her face in her knees again.

What do you mean? You foresaw this? Amber’s pulse began to race. "Did you see who took him?"

Not really. I just saw Alex in some strange place, and these men were keeping him there. He was really scared, she sobbed loudly, and Amber patted her back, thinking hard.

Can you tell where? she urged.

No. Anna gasped for air. I can only see the room where they’re keeping him—I guess I saw one of their faces.

So, you could describe the guy? Amber pressed anxiously.

Anna nodded.

How many men are there?

Four, I think, but I’m not positive. She resumed her rocking back and forth motion.

Amber sat back. Have you told Grandmother yet?

No.

Oh, Anna, can I get her? She might be able to help, and she’s not going to rat you out—don’t worry. Anna had only recently come to terms with the realization that she, too, possessed a gift: the ability to witness the future in dreams.

It doesn’t matter if she does anymore. Colton’s going to break up with me soon. Her voice wavered and broke.

Amber froze. You saw that, too? she asked quietly, and her mind leaped ahead. Somehow the last bit of information was linked to last night’s occurrences, and she struggled to fit the pieces together, finding herself wishing that she was listening to Frederic, her best friend, play the miraculous, mind-opening music she recalled from months ago.

And then it dawned on her. It’s my fault, she whispered. Anna, Bethany’s friends attacked me last night, she said slowly, and I had to tell the police about it, and I gave them Bethany’s name. I’m sorry. She stared at her shoes. Colton was one of Bethany’s older brothers, and he and Anna had been singularly attached for years.

Are you okay? Anna lifted her face, suddenly concerned. Are you hurt?

I’m fine, just a little bruised up, Amber admitted.

Oh, Amber, Anna wrapped her arms around her sister. It’s not your fault—I’ve known this would happen for a long time.

Amber returned the embrace. Thanks.

It wasn’t long before the girls had enlightened their grandmother, who’d sat perfectly still on the edge of Anna’s bed, her hands clasped together and pressed to her mouth. She’d listened intently until her granddaughters were silent, awaiting her response.

I’ll inform your grandfather immediately. I fear the responsibility lies with the organization. She dropped her hands to her lap. Anna, if you were to see a photo of this man’s face, could you positively identify him?

Anna nodded vigorously. Yes, I can see his face every time I close my eyes now, and I can see the vision whenever I want and it’s just as clear as the first time.

Julia smiled minutely. Good. I’ll seek permission to have you both accompany me home, she turned her attention to Amber, after you’ve been thoroughly checked at the hospital.

Three hours had elapsed before the girls were ushered into their grandfather’s study, Julia leading the way. It had taken some time to wrap things up with the police, and then one pair of the officers had accompanied her to the hospital—that had taken another large chunk of time; lots of paper work. Amber had chuckled when she’d been informed that it had taken fourteen stitches to close her wound, fourteen stitches on her fourteenth birthday. The doctor had examined her throat and explained that with rest she would heal perfectly.

Amber looked around the room. It seemed so empty with her grandfather gone, but she imagined she could feel his strong yet soothing presence as she neared his desk and sat in her usual training chair. Anna situated herself next to her and Julia sank into Roland’s luxurious, swiveling high-back behind the desk, and then switched on the computer and proceeded to type in a series of keys at lightning speed.

She raised her eyes above her reading glasses and rested them on Anna. I’m going to show you a number of photos. I’d like you to take your time and evaluate each one. It would be infinitely helpful to know who we’re seeking.

She turned the monitor toward the girls and handed the mouse to Anna. The screen was covered with tiny mug shots, lined up and down in tight rows. Anna slowly scrolled downward, and Amber couldn’t help wishing that Trevor, her friend who could unlock and decode almost anything, were here to witness the scene. How he’d love to gain access to this site, she thought.

Are these all Misusers? Amber ventured. ‘Misuser’ was the term given to those of the gifted race who were bent on dominating ordinary people and wiping the planet of all those who opposed them. Amber’s grandfather, Roland Grey, had given his life to creating a worldwide organization of ‘Protectors’, those devoted to maintaining justice and freedom for all mankind.

Yes, the majority are. A few are merely sympathizers.

How many photos are there? Anna queried, eyes remaining focused on the screen.

Oh, many are added monthly, but at present we’ve tracked over twenty-one thousand.

Anna raised her eyes in surprise and Amber gawked. This is going to take forever, Amber gasped.

Let us hope that the perpetrator we seek is indeed in the catalogues, Julia reminded the girls.

Oh. Amber’s stomach sunk, and she realized how hungry she’d become. The others had eaten in the hospital cafeteria, but she’d refused the food.

Don’t worry about it, Amber. This doesn’t seem like that big of a deal after all the research I’ve done over the past few months, Anna smirked, her eyes scanning the faces. If I can get through a hundred photos every few minutes, fifteen hundred every hour, the longest this could take is about a day and a half, right? I’ll work through the night if I have to.

Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll recognize him soon, Amber hoped. She thought of poor Alex, and forced her mind down a different path when her imaginings fell on images of the Misusers hurting him.

She sighed and rose from her seat. I’m hungry. I’m going to find something to eat.

Call on Madame LaBelle if you need, dear, Julia called as Amber slipped out of the door.

Amber pondered as she breezed through the house toward the kitchen. How are they to actually going to rescue Alex if he’s being held by Misusers? And why take him in the first place? Ransom? He didn’t have a gift as far as she could tell. Maybe it’s to get at Grandfather, she thought, and then she stopped short. Maybe they were trying to get to me. She continued walking slowly, and then rummaged through the cupboards without calling on the old housekeeper, Madame LaBelle, for help.

As she sat munching on a small plate of cheese, crackers, and grapes, her mind wandered to the last meal she’d eaten. She’d actually had a lot of fun with Donavan, and she considered how the previous evening had so drastically whipped from one extreme to another. She remembered how he’d tried to kiss her, how her blood raced every time he drew near, and how scared she was that this crazy new emotion would cross the boundaries, resulting in an explosion of electricity. She played with her food, pondering the differences she felt for Donavan and Frederic and came to a conclusion: she loved Frederic, purely and positively, and her feelings for him ran way beyond anxiety. She recalled the last night they’d spent together, the brilliant light they’d shared, how safe she’d felt in his arms, and so totally free.

Her phone trilled, waking her from the pleasant reverie. It was an international number.

Frederic? she asked, excited.

Hi. We just heard from your grandfather. Are you okay? He sounded worried.

Yeah, she began, no, not really. They think the Misusers have Alex.

I know. Everyone’s been put on alert—everywhere. The whole system’s on red.

Wow. But we might have a lead. And she relayed to him everything concerning Anna’s vision and the steps they were taking.

So you’re at your grandmother’s house right now?

Yeah.

Huh. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Everyone knows where she lives—the house is a landmark.

But they know where I live, too, and I don’t want to hide, Amber added quietly.

You might not have another choice. Have you checked on the book lately?

Amber’s memory flew to the address book Grandfather had held in her trust for the duration of his absence. In it were the names of powerful and loyal Protectors, along with significant information about them. She and Frederic had hidden her grandfather’s book in an underground passage they’d discovered, one that had been dug by a man named Jonathan Rigley and a few of his friends during the Civil War. They belonged to an ancient group of Protectors who’d plagued Anna’s visions from the dead, demanding she lay them and their loved ones to rest properly.

No, do you think I should?

Probably, and I’ve been wondering about stashing it. Maybe you should keep it on you—no one could take it from you unless you let them, right?

Her mind flashed to the previous night, the boy dropping under her touch. I don’t want to hurt people, Frederic, she whimpered.

He was silent for a moment. I know. I heard my father mention that he might return early. I’ll convince them to let me go, too. It’ll probably be another week, though, he added.

Okay. That’s good.

His voice dropped, Not the best birthday you’ve ever had, sorry.

Hmm, haven’t really thought about it—it’s not important at this point, anyway.

The Hirsches—Amber, you could stay with the Hirsches. You should run it by your grandmother first, but it might be the safest place right now.

Yeah, you might be right. So I’ll see you in a week?

I’ll call when I find out for sure. I’ve got to go. Be careful.

’Kay, bye. She clicked the phone shut, heart aching, and pushed her food away; it had lost its appeal. She sighed and shifted to rise from her seat when her phone sounded again—buzzing this time, and she read the message. It was Donavan:

What r u doing?

She sighed and wrote back.

Nothing. Waiting to hear some news.

I want to see u. Where r u?

Grandmother’s, but I don’t think I should leave right now.

Already on my way—c u in 20 minutes. Get ready.

She sighed and got to her feet. It was quite possible that her grandmother would forbid her to leave the house, but she trudged toward the study to ask permission.

Where’s Grandmother? Amber had entered the study to find Anna alone, poring over the computer screen.

Headed back to our house for a while. She said she’d be home in an hour or so. Anna glanced up. Nice dress, by the way. Where’d you get it? She returned to the faces.

Donavan’s house, Amber replied sheepishly, glancing downward.

Anna mustered up a grin. Wow.

Yeah, I know. Actually, he’s going to be here in about fifteen minutes. I think he wants to take me out for my birthday. I should probably tell him that I can’t go, right? She looked to her sister for support.

No way, go! You should have a little fun today. I’ll tell Grandmother when she gets back. She smiled and returned to her task.

A distraction, maybe, but not fun, Amber mumbled, watching Anna’s face return to stone.

Amber rummaged through her closet. It was massive, but almost void of clothes. Searching for something comfortable to wear, she chose a pair of shorts to avoid the rub of fabric against her injury, and a periwinkle blue T-shirt. She pulled her hair up to a ponytail, then changed her mind and released it, allowing curls to fall around her shoulders in attempt to camouflage ugly neck discolorations. Before heading downstairs, she rolled the blue sundress into a tidy bundle, ready to return.

She met Donavan in the front drive and pulled open the passenger’s door. He’d worn a short sleeved button-up shirt left open, exposing a fitted, white undershirt.

I can’t be gone long, she warned him as she dropped to the passenger’s seat smooth leather. Where’re we going? she asked a moment later, watching his profile against the setting sun, and he turned his brilliant eyes to her.

I was thinking Italian, or pizza again, but we’ll hit a nicer place this time. He smiled when she nodded approval, set his arm on the console, and took her hand. Her stomach fluttered at his touch.

It felt good to relax in a new environment. He’d chosen an inviting Italian bistro in Arlington, and the deep colors and traditional music were soothing. She absorbed herself in the evening, a creeping suspicion growing inwardly that this would be the last pleasant evening she’d experience for a while. She pushed the oncoming shadow away, talked freely, and allowed Donavan to hold her hand after their dishes had been cleared away. He traced patterns on her palm, and spent silent minutes staring in her eyes. The spell was broken when her phone buzzed, rudely interrupting the moment of tranquility.

It was Anna—she’d found the man in her vision. Amber discreetly shut her phone and reported that it was time to leave.

She watched city lights drift past as they drove down the busy Saturday evening highway. She thought of Protectors around the world on alert, ready to help her family, all willing to risk themselves for hopes of peace and freedom. Her mind drifted to her grandfather, the man at the head of it all, the one who so many relied upon, the man who’d so often explained that it would someday be her to whom they looked. She sighed and lifted her hand to study it. So strange that this average looking appendage could be used as a weapon, a tool for destruction, but it could also channel peace and joy, and unimaginable light. She remembered her last meeting with Frederic, smiling quietly at the thought of his return.

You okay? Donavan finally broke the silence. Apparently he’d noted her hand still suspended above her lap, and she quickly tucked it inside her other.

Yeah, just thinking, nothing you’d be interested in. Amber had no intentions of bringing him any deeper into her world; she had yet to face the repercussions of exposing what she had revealed about herself to him. But now seemed like an entirely wrong time to confess her mistakes to Grandmother.

Donavan drifted smoothly into her grandparents’ front drive and halted near the entrance. Wearing a serious expression, he twisted to face Amber. "You know, you’re wrong about that. I do want to hear what’s going on in your head."

Amber reached for her door handle and exhaled, uncomfortable at the intensity of his statement. Well, thanks for dinner. It was nice. She opened the door and pulled herself up.

Donavan chuckled once and stared out of the windshield. No problem. Call if you need anything, okay?

Sure, thanks. She clicked the door shut and headed for the mansion, keeping her eyes on the pavement before her.

Chapter Two

His name is Marcel Dupuit—last seen in Haiti. Oh, how ironic, he has the ability to cloak. Julia smiled grimly and leaned back in her husband’s large, dark swiveling office chair, the computer screen shining bleakly across her pale face, shadows accentuating the swelling around her tired eyes. The library’s deep mahogany bookshelves loomed like walls of black on every side, absorbing light from the single lit desk lamp.

Amber and Anna exchanged glances. They were familiar with this gift having become acquainted with a girl named Jenny, possessor of the same, through Jonathan Rigley’s ancient journal. Amber posed the question anyway, Does that mean he can hide himself, and others near him? She observed her grandmother’s golden brown eyes as they met her own.

Physically, yes, but his presence remains tangible. She glanced at her granddaughters’ confused expressions. You are both fully aware, of course, that much of what is valid and real in this world remains invisible to the naked eye, and many times we find it quite reasonable to act based on what we feel, or sense. And you, Anna, to have seen a man who can cloak—in vision—how very fortunate. She returned her gaze to the screen and resumed typing at lightning speed.

Your grandfather identified a lad of formidable seeking abilities not two years ago. She pushed her chair away from the heavy, antique desk and leaned back against the firmly padded headrest, eyes closed. I’m sure the next step will be to assemble a team. Hopefully they can work in liaison with government officials. She sighed, and became still and silent.

Anna leaned toward Amber. The FBI showed up at our house while you were gone. She’s already met them, she whispered.

Are any of them gifted? Amber queried, hoping.

Anna shook her head. Probably not. She didn’t recognize any of ’em.

Julia sniffled and opened her eyes. There is nothing more to be done tonight, my dears. The hour is late. Go, sleep. We’ll receive word from the organization in the morning. Let us pray that Alex is well. And she returned to the computer.

It wasn’t long before the girls lay awake in their tall, luxurious bed, a white, fluffy down comforter dolloped over them. Amber glanced at the side table clock—1:33 a.m. Wake me up if you dream something important, okay? She stared across the room to the lace shrouded windows, suffused in the mansion’s bright outdoor lighting on this moonless night.

I will. You don’t think they’ll hurt him, do you? Anna whimpered.

Amber shifted to her side and assessed her sister’s pained expression. Of course not. If they took him for ransom or something it wouldn’t make sense, right? It was the same fear that had plagued her mind. Where would little Alex be sleeping tonight? Would his kidnappers feed him? Would they be cruel?

Amber swallowed hard, closed her eyes, and offered a silent prayer. It was all she could think to do. If there was a God, as her grandmother deeply believed there was, perhaps if she asked Him to keep her brother safe, surely He would have mercy on a poor, defenseless little boy.

Where’d you go tonight? Anna asked softly.

Hmm? Amber severed her thoughts.

With Donavan, where’d he take you?

Oh. Just to this little Italian bistro. It was nice, she replied, and her thoughts drifted to their quiet meal, but she didn’t feel like smiling.

It was nice of him to think of your birthday.

Yeah, I guess he’s not as bad as I thought. Amber’s stomach suddenly twisted, recalling an important bit of information she hadn’t yet shared with anyone. He knows about my talent, she whispered, the uncomfortable churning in her stomach growing.

What? Anna bolted up in the bed. You told him?

Shh, I didn’t really have much of a choice; he saw the last part of when those kids attacked me, Amber defended.

Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot about that. What happened? Anna was wide-eyed with renewed fear.

The girls sat awake for the next half hour discussing details of Amber’s horrific experience the previous night.

So, back up. He just showed up when you were hiding? Anna pondered as she gazed at the lacy curtained window.

"Yeah. I totally thought he was one of them. I almost burned him up," she added quietly.

Hmm… it’s weird that he knew exactly where to go—you were really lucky he found you.

I guess. Anyway, he’d already seen me electrocute that kid, and I figured—what did I have to lose, right? Amber watched her sister’s face, hoping for support.

I get it. And he actually thought the whole thing was cool? Anna asked the question for the second time, incredulous.

Amber sniggered, Not what I expected, either. She sleepily lay back on the squishy cotton-slipped pillow and closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before she felt the bed settle as Anna followed suit.

By the way, she muttered, Frederic thinks it’d be safer to stay with the Hirsches, so I’m going to head there tomorrow. He thinks the Misusers might come back for us. You should come with me. She waited wide-eyed for Anna’s response.

Okay. Mom and Dad are going to freak.

***

Amber woke to bright sunlight blaring in her face. The curtains had been pulled back, and Anna was gone. She rose from the warm bed, wincing in pain from her stitched-up knee, and stumbled to the window. Her mood was subdued as memories of the previous day bubbled to the surface, and she peered out of the bare glass. The early summer sun had risen well above the eastern horizon, its beams penetrating thin, wispy clouds. She enjoyed songbirds’ glorious strains, all in odd harmony, but they were suddenly hushed by a voice hollering in the yard below.

Amber immediately shifted her sights to the front lawn and spotted Anna, already garbed in a sea green sundress, her long, gleaming black hair pulled up tidily to a flailing ponytail. Colton was standing opposite her, stuffing his hands in his curly brown hair, and then he jerked them out angrily. He was saying something indistinguishable through the glass, so Amber unlocked the window clasp and pushed it open a crack.

…let me believe my sister was crazy all this time… hiding stuff... were some of the phrases Amber picked up on, before Anna revolted.

I knew you’d behave like this—of course I couldn’t tell you. You’re just as prejudiced as Bethany! You care more about your precious sister’s reputation than the fact that she could have been responsible for killing my sister! Amber’s jaw dropped. Never in her life had she heard Anna speak like this.

You’ve all lied about everything before. Why should I believe you now? Bethany… protecting themselves… the police suspecting my sister—and my family… Amber was awestruck as she watched Colton march fiercely to his waiting motorcycle, hop on in one swift movement and kick the engine to a roaring start.

Anna barreled after him, her hands to one ear, and then the other, and then she chucked something at him with all her might. He turned the bike in place, skidding his rear tire on the asphalt, causing smoke and the stench of burnt rubber before disappearing noisily. Anna’s shoulders jerked as she watched him leave.

Amber pulled the window shut, grabbed her blue bathrobe and hurtled down the front staircase, occasionally hopping along on her uninjured leg to ease her knee’s stinging. She didn’t know what she could possibly say to make her sister feel better, but she needed to try.

Anna! Amber stole out of the large front entry doors and flew into the yard where her sister stood, stone still. Are you okay? She tied the robe’s belt around her waist and scrutinized Anna’s expression. A few tears lay wet on her cheeks, but other than that, nothing.

She sniffled. It’s over, she announced, blankly staring down the drive where Colton had disappeared. Amber said nothing and waited.

After all this time of knowing it would happen, it finally has. She sighed and looked into Amber’s eyes. I’m okay. It’s odd, I feel relieved in a way.

Amber scanned the grounds, suddenly wary. Let’s go inside. The girls shuffled to the kitchen in silence and took their seats around the island. Amber glanced at the wall clock—9:45.

Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to get you breakfast or something? Amber peeked through immaculately organized cupboards, wondering where Madame LaBelle had gone. She didn’t usually run errands without fixing some sort of lavish breakfast first. Maybe she’d left something in the fridge.

You go ahead. I’m not hungry. Anna slumped in a chair and held her chin up with her hands, elbows pressed against the cool rock countertop.

Amber settled for a