Brush of Shade (10 page)

I scooped up a
handful of snow, twisted, and threw it into a blurry face framed by a streak of
yellow hair.
“Shade?
How?”
I
stammered, swiping snow out of my eyes. He grabbed my icy hands and blew hot
breaths onto them and then with a growl, pulled me into a crushing, wonderfully
hot hug with his long coat forming a tent shelter against the storm.

“As soon as I
get you on the road, I want you to run to the truck,” he shouted over the next arctic
blast. “Don’t be afraid,
Livi
. I’ll be right behind
you.”

Hands squeezed
my waist, hoisting me up until I rolled over the lip of the snow bank and onto
the shoulder of the road. Twin beams cut through the near white out conditions.
I got a glimpse of Shade’s hunter green truck coming out of the curve. I ran,
but the truck didn’t seem to be getting closer. Stupid body wouldn’t stop
weaving. Shade slung an arm around my waist and lifted, his long, sure strides
covering the ground.

“Halt!”

Cool as could be
Detective Lawson advanced with his gun leveled in our direction.

Shade set me on
my feet and ordered, “Get in the truck.”

“Olivia, it’s
not safe. Think about who controls the money and your life. People have killed
for less,” Detective Lawson shouted. “You,” he swung the gun at Shade’s head,
“step back. Olivia, walk to my car.”

 The gun
shifted to point at my aunt through the windshield. “Miss Pepperdine, glad you
could join us. Just how much would you say
your
young
heiress is worth? According to the trust at what age is your service as
executor terminated? Do you feel all that money slipping out of your fingers?
Not to worry, your brother’s high-powered friends won’t notice when his
daughter goes missing way out here in the middle of nowhere,” he said, sounding
irrational.

Shade moved
quickly to the front of his truck, drawing the detective’s attention. “Officer,
this is a mistake. No one means Olivia any harm,” he said in a deep, soothing
voice that made you just know every word was true.

I dove for the
safety of the open passenger door. Immediately Aunt Claire had the truck in
reverse, creeping down the icy slope around a blind curve blanketed by drifting
snow.

“No, stop!” I
shouted.

I leaned forward
in my seat, trying to keep Shade and the detective in sight, willing the
officer to lower his gun. For a moment it seemed that everything would be
alright, that it had been an overreaction on the officer’s part. The gun slowly
drifted lower, then jerked back up. Shade extended a hand as though to ward off
the bullet. Frenzied winds drove into the detective, knocking him backward.
Wind-whipped snow pelted our windshield. I willed the wipers to move faster.
Ghostly figures tussled. A body tumbled into the ditch.

“Stop!
What if it’s Shade?” I cried out, slurring at the
end. I fell back against my seat overcome by wooziness. My eyes refused to stay
open. In my mind the howling winds screamed Shade’s name as I dropped out of
reality.

***

“We’re past
conjecture, Claire. I know what I sensed.”

“But tampering? Who
got to him?”

“Sorry, I was
too busy staying alive to get around to that point,” Shade replied in a hushed
voice. “If you want your niece safe, then I say tell her everything.”

“She’s still in
mourning and fighting to get strong. She needs more time.”

“This has to be
explained somehow. She’s stronger than you give her credit for.”

“Will they
accept her?” Aunt Claire asked, sounding worried.

“Not in this
state,” he replied. “Let us help. The clan honors all obligations of the Pact.”

“They’re also
obligated to honor Ethan’s request for his daughter’s happiness.”

“Are the two
mutually exclusive? The truth can be liberating. Let’s just get her home. We
can argue there when I don’t have to concentrate on keeping us on the road.”

“I think she’s
coming around.” Aunt Claire’s voice cracked and she sniffed loudly. “Olivia,
everything is alright now. See, Shade is fine.”

Their strange,
tense conversation I’d absorbed in garbled snippets. If Shade was safe that
meant—
A
fire ignited in my belly. My stomach roiled.
I doubled over with my hand clasped so hard to my mouth that I cut the inside
of my lip on my teeth.

Aunt Claire
placed a hand on my forehead. “Her eyes are glassy and she’s clammy.”

“Olivia, did
Lawson give you something?” Shade demanded.

“Drank something . . . nasty.”
I moaned and tried to curl
into a ball, but I was squished between Shade and my aunt.

The truck
skidded coming out of the curve. My eyes were on Shade’s strong, chiseled jaw,
watching the muscle pulse each time I reacted to the road or the pain. I sunk
into my misery, scraping up every ounce of strength to contain my moaning. It
was the only contribution I could make to this nightmare. Desperate to get me
help Shade pressed the limits of the vehicle and the weather. We dropped down
out of the pass gaining speed and sliding across both lanes.

“Stop!”
I screamed, shoving him out of my way not able to
register that he was still driving.

 His eyes
slid to my scrunched face. He swore. “Hang
on,
let me
get around this curve.”

The guardrail
loomed straight ahead. “Slow down,” Aunt Claire yelled, throwing an arm across
my body while Shade fought the fishtailing truck. The grinding of metal sent me
over the edge. Each time the truck scraped across the rail it was another flip
of my family’s car tumbling over and over. Fearful cries deepened into harsh,
gagging sounds. I tried to get to my mother, but something across my chest held
me in place.

“Don’t shake
her, she might get sick,” Shade ordered.

“Make her stop,”
Aunt Claire pleaded.

A terrible
shrieking had pierced the cab, drowning out the wind roaring up the canyon
walls. Tears blurred my vision making spirals out of the icy flecks in Shade’s
eyes. I clung to them as though they were a real ice flow that could divert the
nightmares.

“Olivia, listen
to me. We’ve stopped. Olivia, you’re safe.”

Lips were
moving. I could feel his hot breath tickle across my cheeks. This was real. A
shudder swept my body, starting where his hot hands cradled my face and
traveling all the way down to my toes. I was no longer falling out of the
world. Had he any idea what he’d just done for me? I leaned into his chest,
breathing raggedly, my throat raw from my horrific screams.

“I’m sorry. I
know this has to be awful for you. Hang in there,” Shade reassured, completely
misunderstanding.

 Aunt
Claire unzipped her purse. “I’ve got antacid. Do you want to try that?”

I nodded.
Anything would be better than the fire in my stomach. I choked on the pill and
slumped against Shade’s side. “Sorry,” I stammered and tried to sit up, but he held
me tight. Acid scorched up to my throat as the blaze in my stomach tried to
burn a path clear through my back. “Let me out.” I gagged and fought Shade’s
hands as I tried to push past him.

Freezing gusts
battered the canyon and shoved us against the tailgate while my body tried
unsuccessfully to rid itself of whatever Detective Lawson had dosed me with. If
it weren’t for Shade gripping me under my chest like a floppy doll, I would’ve
collapsed in the snow bank. By this point, I was so weak and miserable; I was
hardly aware of anything, even the fire burning up my stomach.

“Nothing,” Shade
said, lifting me into the truck. “I don’t like the sound of her breathing.”

Aunt Claire took
my pulse. Her gaze flicked up to Shade’s then to the blizzard pounding the
windshield. Fingers pinched the skin at her throat when she turned to me and
asked, “We need to know how you feel.”

“Sick,” I said
in a toneless voice, drifting in the brief cushion of peace between pangs.

“Olivia, answer
us,” Shade ordered, the twang of his voice quite pronounced.

Isn’t it strange
when you’re only half conscious, how voices seem to call from so far off?
Figures Shade would be different, I thought irritably. His thunderous voice
ricocheted inside my skull, demanding notice. Stubborn jerk stop asking me.
Couldn’t he let me curl up and sleep? I didn’t want to think or speak. But I
had to; I couldn’t stop myself.

“Fire eating my
stomach,” I answered with little strength.

“Localized or
radiating?” he persisted, his voice scratching across my cheeks.

“Radiating.”
I moaned, arching against his restraining
hands.
“My chest . . . tight.
Shade, make it stop,” I
whimpered, digging my fingers into his arms. “Help me!” I mouthed.

His voice
stopped. Bereft, I wanted to cry out for him to come back, to fill me, but I
was being dragged under. Then my aunt started yelling, pulling me out of my
dreams.

“You’ve not the
authority to counter my orders.”

“Your orders
cannot supersede hers,” he retorted with such conviction that Aunt Claire drew
a sharp breath and leaned away.

“Orders from Olivia?
No oaths have been given. Honestly,
she’s not capable of clear thought. She is my responsibility. I will judge when
she is ready. Get back in here.
Shade!”

 “And do
what? We were lucky back there that we didn’t crash. The road is rapidly
becoming impassable. My truck is pulling to the right and the engine
temperature gauge has crept up into the red. We could be stuck waiting out the
storm where there is no medical help. Dare we take the risk? We’re close enough
that I can skim through Trainer’s Gorge using the snowmobile trails. The cover
is dense; we’ll be protected from the brunt of the storm. I’ll come out at the
road leading to the Summit ski slope. Dr. Long will be waiting.”

“No, Olivia
isn’t ready,” Aunt Claire argued.

“That might not
be a concern if we don’t get her help soon. Sorry, Claire, I’ve got to follow
her orders. I’ve got to save the legacy.”

“Don’t use that
ploy to get your way. Again no oaths have been given.”

“What is he . .
.” I couldn’t finish. Fire engulfed me, scorching my insides. I doubled over
writhing in my aunt’s arms as sweat lathered my body.

“Go,” Aunt
Claire ordered, pulling a blanket tight around my shoulders.

I lolled against
her side, not fully comprehending the strange scene unfolding outside the
window. Shade had tossed his heavy coat into the back seat and was standing
outside, shaking hard in the middle of a blizzard wearing an unzipped,
stadium
jacket. Snow streaked across the windshield, piling
up along the edges and making it difficult for me to see outside. The next gust
swallowed his body.

I strained
against Aunt Claire’s hold. “Make him come back inside. He’ll freeze to death.”

“Olivia, listen
to me. He’s alright. Trust us. Trust Shade. Everything will be fine.”

When had I
finally crossed the line over to the side of crazy? My scream couldn’t get past
my narrowed throat. I shrank back, shoving frantically at my aunt’s restraining
arm as translucent hands, with no real fixed shape, reached out for me. A
whimpered scream became a faint sob as washed-out blue eyes swam into focus.

“Claire, don’t
attempt to drive. It’s too dangerous. Shad and my father are coming. They’ll
get you home. Come with me, Olivia.”

“Come?” I
squeaked, too terrified to mount a struggle as hot hands, that blended with the
gray of the seat cushion and then changed over to the navy blue of my sweater,
pulled me against a ghostlike chest.

“Trust me,
Livi
. I will protect you.”

“Aunt Claire!” I
screamed as my maddened version of Shade stepped into the blizzard.

“Keep the
blanket over your head so you don’t get wind burn,” he ordered.

I laughed high
and tight, giving in to the madness.

Flannel moved
rhythmically against my cheek; its caress a comfort when the torch inside my
stomach reignited. Cradled against his chest with only a blanket between me and
the storm’s arctic blast, I became uncomfortably hot. I wiggled a finger up to
my face and pulled aside a corner of the blanket. Snow-coated canyon walls and
the occasional pine tree whipped by at a pace I couldn’t fathom.
This was
not happening. Don’t be an episode. Find normal
. No matter how many times I
blinked, Shade’s face stayed out of focus. It reminded me of looking through
old rippled glass, distorted and hazy. In my maddened state, there were moments
when he faded from my sight entirely. During those moments, sharp pricks
stabbed my body as though I’d run into a hornet’s nest and was covered in
hundreds of stings.

He must have
sensed my preoccupation with his appearance, for he shook his head and sighed.
A trace of beige spread across his face. Then he looked down at me. Raised
white bands had thrust out of crystal-blue seas just visible as slim crescents
along the bottom edge of his eyes. He blinked and ice engulfed the seas.
Glacier eyes, I gasped finding no other word to describe the frigid masses. The
blanket was yanked up and shoved between my head and flannel. A firm arm held
me there while I confronted a new level of terror. Certain the next time I
opened my eyes, I would be in a psychiatric ward.

A week and a
half had passed since my two-day stint in the local clinic. On doctor’s orders,
I hadn’t returned to school. Today marked the official start of Christmas
break, and I was spending it puttering around my safe room with its pale, blue
walls for company. Not even the big, fluffy flakes dropping out of the
lead-gray sky could stir a drop of excitement. I shivered. Snow meant closed
passes, not winter wonderland. Maybe I should’ve gotten out while I could. Upon
my retrieval from Detective Lawson, Aunt Claire had gone about our days as
though nothing had happened. But something had happened, and it went way beyond
a misunderstanding. What I’d thought was
normal
had only been an
illusion. Those gruesome accident scene photos had triggered nightmares far
more horrible than before. I hardly slept. Instead, I stared at the ceiling,
analyzing conversations with my father and questioning my aunt’s motives. I
avoided everyone, especially Shade. After my delirium induced lunacy from a
reaction to the detective’s drink, I couldn’t be near Shade and his watchful
gaze. He had to agree; I was crazy.

“Olivia.
Olivia?” Aunt Claire shouted from the hall.

I yanked an
earbud
out, turned sideways, and gave her my profile when
she stepped into my room.

“You never made
an appointment with the school counselor. Are you listening to me?”

I flipped open
my laptop on my desk, missing my connection to the outside world. The
background, a photo of
JoAnna
and I decorating last
year’s homecoming float, reminded me of something Detective Lawson had said and
my long overdue mail. A few taps on the keys made the photo disappear and my
playlist start.

My aunt made a
frustrated sound as she crossed over to my desk and closed my laptop. “An
ongoing dialogue is crucial to your adjustment here. Dr. Martins was quite
insistent.”

“I’m not going.
What’s the point? I’m already living a lie.”

Her face
crinkled up on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“Are you? You
met with Dad? He wasn’t in London. He was here in Spring Valley. Did you argue?
All this time Trent was right. I’m rich. Is that why you took me in? Is that
why you pretended to sell your paintings?”

“I don’t
appreciate the attitude after all I’ve done for you. If you must know, a
private collector purchased my art.” She stared down at my lap, her lips
pursing. “Look at you; you can’t stop twisting your hands. You’re working
yourself into another one of your distressed states. Next, you’ll sink into
your, I don’t care about life mood and start hanging out for hours in that
gazebo with your music instead of people. Honestly, I don’t know how much more
I can take.”

“I’m confused.
First, you drag me off to Spring Valley away from everything and everyone I
know and expect me to suddenly be normal. Like my life is perfect.
Like you know anything about me.
Now, I find out that you’ve
been hiding things from me, but that’s okay?”

“When you’re
adult enough to finally handle the situation calmly and rationally, we’ll talk.
I’ve calls to return.”

I stalked behind
her, stopping just inside the entrance to the downstairs study. “I see
,
we can only have an ongoing dialogue on your terms. Have
my nightmares then tell me to be calm and unemotional. I’m sorry I’m not
progressing at whatever absurd time schedule you’ve worked out with Dr.
Martins. From the way I see it, I’m not the only one who’s big into avoidance.
You can’t even talk to me about your childhood in the valley or why it’s so
hard for you to live here,” I said, my voice cracking as it got louder. When
she wouldn’t turn around, I lashed out. “So sorry you’re stuck here with your
flawed niece who put a major crimp in your exciting life, or that I hang out in
the gazebo instead of pretending to be a normal teenage girl. My dad built the
gazebo. That and football are the only things I’ve got that connect me to the
valley and my father. Everything else I know is from before.”

 “You
haven’t given the valley a chance. It’s only been a few months. By the end of
next summer, you’ll be sad to leave this place for college. You’re going to
make friends. I know it.”

“If I do, my
head will get crowded with fresh memories.” I gulped in air, my chest heaving.
“I can’t picture Danny in my head anymore. It hurts like a fire in my stomach
knowing the same will happen to my memories of Mom and Dad. Do you honestly
think I want to talk to a stranger about the moment everything I loved was
stolen? I know I’ve got to get unstuck, but you can’t face any of it with me or
don’t want to.”

Aunt Claire
paused with a palm pressed to her chest and her shoulders stooped. In a sad
voice she said while staring down into a box of files on her desk, “I didn’t
mean to come off as uncaring.”

“Then please
stop running.” I waited for her reassurance, willing at this point to grab onto
platitudes. My stomach fluttered. She looked too fragile to be what either of
us required to heal. “I don’t know why you’ve always felt like you couldn’t
settle down in one place. Now I need for you to do more than drop anchor. I need
you to establish roots, so I can stand up strong. Because I’ve got news for
you; I can’t move forward when the ground underneath doesn’t feel stable. I
can’t move forward when I’m stuck at that night, alone.”

While I’d been
speaking, she’d taken a step closer to me. Her probing gaze watched as I rocked
in place, one hand clutching the other arm just above the elbow. “Don’t look at
me like that,” I snapped, backing into the hall, before I lost control without
a safety net. I closed my eyes and tried to visualize someplace safe. A hunter
green, pick-up truck popped into my head.

“How am I
looking at you?” She asked, following me out into the hall.

“All tense and worried like I’m broken.
I hate it. I hate
feeling this way.”

“Sweetie, you’re
hurting. I don’t know how to help you.”

“Tell me the
truth.”

“The situation
is complicated.”

The back door
banged shut followed by the sound of boots stomping in the mudroom. “That would
be Shade. He’s been helping me with a few minor repairs around the place,” Aunt
Claire explained.

Saved by the clumping of boots.
I was never going to get any
answers.

Shade poked his
head around the corner and said, “Hello, ladies. I was putting my supplies away
in my truck when your load of logs arrived. I showed the guy where to stack
them on the back patio.”

“Thank you,”
Aunt Claire said. “Why don’t you head on out. The other thing we mentioned
isn’t going to work out for today. Olivia’s feeling anxious.”

“Aunt Claire!” I
exclaimed, feeling my cheeks getting hot.

To my chagrin,
Shade came down the hall and rested his hands on my shoulders. “Olivia, there
is no need to be upset.”

“You wouldn’t
think so if you wanted to know what was going on, but all you got were lies and
avoidance,” I retorted, moving away from Shade and his annoying calming
influence.

“For your own
good,” Aunt Claire said.

“Right?
I think you’ve got that backwards.”

She dabbed at
the corner of an eye and looked to Shade. “See, it’s like I told you. That
detective turned her against me. She’s afraid of me.”

“I doubt that,
but she will be if you don’t open up.” He bent over and picked up my
earbuds
that must’ve fallen out of my pocket. “This is
tearing the two of you apart. Allow me to help,” he offered, speaking slow in
that low voice of his that sapped the tension out of the air.

He held out my
earbuds
and dropped them into my hand. I itched to stuff
them into my ears and let the music take me away to safe memories. Through my
lowered lashes I watched my aunt’s face, trying not to care that she had bags
under her eyes. “Give me one answer. Why was my father here?”

“Town council
business,” Shade answered in my aunt’s place.

“But we didn’t
live here. Aunt Claire, were you here, too?” I demanded, finally lifting my
head to look at her straight on. She hesitated and appeared to look to Shade to
intervene. But this was family business, he shouldn’t be involved.

“I was visiting
friends in the valley,” she answered.

“That was
convenient timing, considering you’ve led me to believe that you rarely ever
returned to the valley, because it was too difficult to be here. So you did lie
to Detective Lawson and to me. But that’s okay. I should just trust you to look
out for my interest and the wealth I didn’t know I had?” I accused. I had the
satisfaction of seeing my aunt’s expression crumble. She deserved my contempt.
Guilt washed over me for all those days of immobility when she’d been at my
side in the hospital, wiping away tears I couldn’t reach and crying an equal
measure herself.

“Shade?”
I
said,
my voice not as
certain or as angry now.

“You’re
justifiably frightened,” he said with a pointed look at my aunt, “and old
enough to forgive. Do you have it in you to trust?” he asked, surprising me by
his question. “Do you require a steady shore to feel safe? Can you survive on a
wobbling boulder? Olivia, this is no easy predicament for your aunt and me. If
we judge wrong in the first case, more lives than yours are in jeopardy. If we
judge wrong in the latter, we lose you, the last of the Pepperdine’s as well.
How far can you leap?”

“I don’t
understand.”

“
Which is why you’re afraid.
The truth you can handle later
may not be the truth you can handle now.  We need to take this one
carefully nurtured small step at a time. We must proceed with caution.”

Caution?
Was that a polite way of saying be careful of the
unstable girl? I considered the antidepressants and anxiety medications I’d
been prescribed since my parents’ deaths and my wild girl scene triggered by
slick roads. If I counted everything, the check marks in the unstable column
climbed to a disturbing total. Then don’t include them. It was just the meds
making me see things, and the voice was just a product of my scrambled
memories. Things just don’t move out of the corner of your eye when you’re
alone. I remembered tree limbs morphing, becoming long, nearly transparent arms
with long fingered hands that scratched and burned my face. Jeez, I was a mess.
My fingers curled about the hem of my sweater. Ethereal Shade had been a
product of my high fever. I didn’t want to think about the hallucinations. We’d
driven all the way home. No way had Shade . . .

Dear God, Shade
was right, I was fragile. Only it was getting worse. I ducked my head, curling
my shoulders, shrinking inward, my beige blonde hair tumbling over my
shoulders, hiding me from their scrutiny. I hadn’t woken up in a padded room,
but that didn’t mean I wasn’t heading there. “What’s wrong with me? Am I
crazy?” The words had tumbled out before I could stop myself, my voice, like
the rest of me, trembling.

A warm, minty
breath washed across my cheek. I turned into Shade’s shoulder before I saw the
truth in his compelling eyes. His breath washed across my other cheek. He
gently separated my hands and turned them over, revealing the red patch on my
left wrist by my watch from where I’d been pinching the skin. He rubbed the
spot with his thumb until the tender area grew warm. My
earbuds
—that
I didn’t remember stuffing into my ears—were removed. In a low, firm voice he
said, “
Livi
, I swear to you on my life that you’re
whole of mind.”

“Then explain
what I saw,” I said, my chest loosening now that he was next to me. I had it
bad. What a fool. Don’t let him see. Breathe like a normal person, like he’s a
friend.
Boyfriend.
No, think about Trent, the actual
boyfriend. I looked up, straight into Shade’s piercing gaze. “I need to know
what is going on. No more delays. Tell me, now.” For once, the words came out
smooth and strong.

He sucked in a
quick breath, as though caught off guard by my insistence. Something like fear
flashed across his face. The idea that he was afraid—of what,
me
knowing the truth—shattered my calm state. I began to
shake ever so slightly. Another warm breath tickled my ear.

A finger under
my chin kept my head up, so he could look directly into my moist eyes. “In your
veins, you’ve the strength of the first Pepperdine warden. I ask that you
listen with a receptive heart.”

“I’ll try,” I
replied, sensing that it was important to him that I do so.

Crystal eyes
rooted me to the floor; accusing me of doubts I couldn’t yet form. He moved
suddenly down the hall as though the matter were settled. Grim faced, he waited
at the top of the basement stairs for us to catch up.

Wordlessly, I
followed my aunt through the basement door, my fingers twisting the cord to my
earbuds
into a knot. “The truth is in the basement?”

Bulbs screwed
into overhead sockets bathed the staircase in light. Black non-slip strips that
looked brand new had been nailed onto each step. My hand glided along the
railing. The smell of varnish mixed with sawdust clung to the air, becoming
less pronounced at the bottom of the stairs. Someone, I had my suspicions who
it might be, had kindly put time into making sure the stairs were safe for someone
unsteady on her feet.

I paused, taking
a moment to pull my sleeves down over my hands. The temperature was cool to the
point where I contemplated getting a jacket. But I didn’t want to risk my aunt
changing her mind. I took a moment to look around, seeing only the sort of
items I normally associated with a basement: a tool bench with an assortment of
tools, metal shelves full of boxes, the furnace, a deflated ball, and an old
bike propped against the wall. I saw nothing mysterious here as well as nothing
that would yield answers.