Chasing Shadows (3 page)

Read Chasing Shadows Online

Authors: Rebbeca Stoddard

Tags: #fantasy

We jogged the entire path to the jeep, and when we reached it, we followed Clamora’s instructions. Neither of us said anything on the hour-long ride to the cabin, which was okay with me. I wanted to figure out if I really trusted what she had said. Every word described the situation perfectly. I thought back to the first time I had ever asked my mom about why I was different from everyone in our family and why the kids in school thought I was weird. All she asked was why I wanted to know, and when I explained, she simply shook her head and said, “
AubrieAnna Sailour, you are wise beyond your years and a beautiful wonder to us all. Everyone loves you.
That
is all that matters.
” I had nodded and walked away. I was always curious about my differences. Now I understood. I decided right then that I would trust Clamora and accept her help going through this process, whatever it would be.

***

The guttural sound of the jeep’s engine shutting off scared me awake. It took me a moment to groggily climb out. My brother steadied me as I stumbled and helped me to my room. After peeling off my clothes, I climbed into bed and stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling. My head spun and ached like a thousand knives were tearing through my skull. I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than sleep. Giving up on any semblance of rest, I turned on the bedside lamp and searched for some ibuprofen. I swallowed two and chased them down with stale water from the night before. Satisfied that the dosage would help my headache disappear, I crawled back into bed, turned off the lamp, and looked at the alarm clock; it was ten o’clock. Most of the day had been spent driving and finding out what was going on with me. I hadn’t learned too much, though. Clamora had been vague and refused to say much about what was ahead of me.

A gentle knock on my door startled me, but before I could grant the intruder entrance, he peeked in. It was Alexandier. In the dim light I could see his worry. He had been running his hands through his golden hair, making it stick out in every direction. I sat up and turned on the lamp. He made his way to my bed and sat down. My beloved brother just stared at me for a moment, opening his mouth as if to speak a few times but saying nothing. This was the first time Alexandier had ever been extraordinarily uncomfortable around me, at least the first time that I had ever noticed. Minutes passed in complete silence before he finally spoke. His voice was merely a whisper: “AubrieAnna, you know I’ve always believed you were special. When we played together when we were younger, you always amazed me. You never really cried, and when you did, it was because I got hurt. I . . . I suppose hearing everything that we heard today has just made you that much more special and amazing. I’m glad you’re my sister. But I’m a little scared. Not of you, but of what you may be able to do. It’s intimidating. It’s awesome and exciting, but extremely intimidating.” He looked down at his hands and sighed.

“Zany, oh Zany . . . You will always be my hero, no matter what Clamora said about me. Please, don’t be scared. I promise I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you. Please, don’t be scared . . . ” My words hung heavily in the air between us. Part of me wanted to hide from him and everyone else, but I couldn’t. I had to stay strong and show him that there was nothing to fear. We sat there for what felt like an eternity, neither of us moving or trying to speak.

“I love you, little sister. Always have, always will.” After he spoke, he rose off my bed and walked out into the darkened hall, leaving me alone and feeling more lost than I ever thought possible.

I stared at the door for at least an hour, maybe more. I wasn’t keeping track of time anymore. An emptiness wouldn’t allow me to move. It felt as if I had lost my best friend. He was worried and scared of me. As soon as I felt the tears slide down my cheeks, I knew how badly Alexandier’s reaction hurt me. I reached up and aggressively wiped away the tears and decided to just lie down and let my body shut itself off for the night. After turning the bedside lamp off, I rolled onto my side and stared at the moon through my window. Silent tears continued to slide down my face, and I shut my eyes, not wanting to see anything anymore. Within minutes, sleep claimed me.

 

Chapter 2

 

When I woke up, the sun was blazing through my window. Dust mites fluttered and danced about in its rays. I took a deep breath and gasped in pain. My excruciating headache from the previous night was back with a vengeance. Pressing hard on both temples, I searched for the bottle of ibuprofen. I dug through drawers and bags but came up empty. The bottle was gone, and I had no idea where it was. I stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen, and searched more fervently for the ibuprofen. After ten minutes of looking, I gave up and curled up in the fetal position on the floor with my back against the cold wood cabinets and my head resting on the cool tiles. I begged the pain to subside, but it persisted. The cool surfaces seemed to help a little. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths then sat up and felt better. With my knees hugged to my chest, I listened for sounds of anyone in the house. Silence. Then I heard it, soft at first but rapidly growing in intensity. It was a droning sound. After listening to it for a few seconds, I heard water splash and ripple, and realized it was just a boat passing by.

***

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My skin appeared paler than normal, and it glowed softly. The mossy green of my irises was now gray with flecks of gold and purple, and my veins were changing colors. I was changing. As I watched my reflection with intensity, I took note of how much better I felt. The heat from my shower had relaxed my muscles and soothed my aching head. It was well into the afternoon, and everyone was downstairs making food. The thought and smell of food made me sick to my stomach. An urge to escape into nature compelled me to stop staring at the mirror and get ready. I dried my hair, brushed my teeth, and got dressed. While I hurried out the door, I hollered at my parents, telling them where I was headed. Once safely outside, I took a deep breath and headed for the trail that led into the heart of the forest.

The path was rocky and covered with soggy moss and twigs. A stream flowed beside it, and a fallen-tree bridge intersected the path a few yards in. As carefully as possible, I climbed the nature-made bridge and crossed the stream without getting my shoes wet. I walked for a few more minutes until I came to an oak tree that stood in the center of a small clearing. Wild roses grew there, along with daisies, tulips, honeysuckle, and daffodils. The range of colors and smells was enticing in the most wonderful way. I looked at my surrounding and took in the sound of the stream, birds, frogs, and little squeaks from field mice. The sun was shining in a heavenly ring around the oak tree. As I headed toward its familiar shade, I saw the unforgettable hole in the center.

The oak tree reminded me of myself and life. I had a gaping hole somewhere in the center of my soul, yet I grew around it, never letting it cripple me. Life is the same way: holes are created by heartache and death, yet we still carry on. Everything around me carried on, just like this tree. Somehow it had made it through a disaster that should have killed it or made it difficult to grow and produce leaves, but it persevered. Now, every spring and summer giant green leaves filled its branches and gave shade to those in need.

I sat down with my back pressed against the cool bark. The rough texture bit into my shoulders and soothed the aching muscles there. It wasn’t long before I relaxed and took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill my lungs. Dragging my hands through my hair, I looked up and thought about what possible changes I was going through when something soft fell on my lap. I looked down to see a rosebud on my thigh. After I picked it up, I looked around to see where it might have come from. All the rosebushes were a few feet away, and my mind started playing back the word
powerful
. I curiously looked over at the flowers and focused on the honeysuckle. I willed it to come to me. When that didn’t work, I asked it to come to me, and finally I begged. A few hours passed before I gave up trying. Stuffing the rosebud in my pocket, I stood up and slowly made my way back to the cabin in disappointment.

The smell of a campfire on the back patio called to me as I entered the cabin. As I reached the fire, I saw my parents and my siblings roasting marshmallows. My seat was empty and in the perfect spot for me. I sat down and watched the flames lick the air and dance excitedly against the wooden logs. Within minutes, I saw what looked like small elfin creatures. They quickly disappeared, but I could still hear their bouts of laughter coming from the fire. Minutes dragged by as I stared into the fire, testing my sanity; they never came back. Once I tore my gaze away from the fire, pain snapped through my head. I tried to stand up and walk to my room, but I stumbled and my dad caught me before I fell into the fire.

He helped me to my room and made sure I got into bed without falling down the stairs. Grabbing my glass, he went downstairs and came back with water, two horse pills, and a smaller one. When I gave him a questioning look he said, “The small one will help you sleep. And the two giant ones will get rid of the headache. Take them, lie down, and rest. You need it. Love you, and sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” We both had a small laugh at my reply. “I love you, too, Dad. Thank you.”

He smiled and closed the door softly behind him. I took the combination of pills and peeled my shorts, shoes, and socks off. Then I lay down and closed my eyes, praying the medicine would take the pain away. They worked, because my headache went away, but I was left with a numb feeling throughout my body. My mind started getting fuzzy and my thoughts slipped away. Sleep ambushed me, and before I knew it, I was swept away into my dreams.

He was making that defiant face, the one I loved so much. I took a seat on the stairs in the library and looked at him. His eyes were like emeralds with yellow and purple flecks of color, his nose hinted at European and Native American bloodlines, and his strong jaw led to high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and dark eyebrows. His hair was so brown that it looked black in most lighting. Sighing in defeat, I looked at him and nodded my head once to agree to his terms. Letting my head fall back, I peeked at him one more time before completely ignoring him. Boisterous laughter filled the room and echoed off the many bookshelves. My heart skipped a beat, paused, and then went into overdrive. When I looked to see what he was laughing at, he was gone. Strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me off the stairs, against him. He was trying to be gentle. After all, he was immortal and I was not. Nuzzling my neck, he waited patiently for me turn around and kiss his wonderfully full lips. But I wasn’t going to give in so easily this time, not without making him chase me first.

My eyes fluttered open to the sun warming my body. At some point in the night I had kicked off my comforter then pulled the sheets so close that they were stuck to my body with sweat. I stumbled out of bed and looked in the mirror. My cheeks were rosy with warmth, and my hair was a disaster. Deciding I needed a quick shower before showing my face to anyone, I walked into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. It sputtered a few times before becoming a full stream. The bathroom quickly filled with steam. I stepped out of my sticky clothes and climbed into the shower. Hot water worked quickly at untightening my muscles. A few minutes passed by before I washed my hair and body. The water had turned icy cold by the time I was done, so I hurried and jumped out to wrap a towel around my body.

I dressed in a swimsuit, shorts, and a T-shirt. Then I brushed my teeth and put on cover-up and mascara to hide the dark circles that were forming around my eyes. While I was walking downstairs, I heard my parents talking to someone who sounded faintly familiar. Slowly, I continued my path to the kitchen, where I choked on my own breath. My dad stopped talking and looked at me questioningly. I put my hand up and apologized, and quickly left to escape the stranger in my house.

I sat on the shore and played with the sand that stretched out before me. A tall shadow blocked the sunlight, and I knew without looking up that it was the stranger from the kitchen—and my dream. He stood there for a few minutes before sitting down next to me. When I finally got the courage to look at his face, I couldn’t help the blush that spread over my body. He was ridiculously handsome and smiling at me. We sat there in silence for what seemed like eternity until he finally spoke, and my body tingled with every word he said.

“AubrieAnna, we have not officially met, but I am Sebastian.” His voice was beautiful.

It was hard to find my voice and when I did, it came out small and quiet. “Why are you here?”

“Clamora sent me to see how you were doing. I understand that you are going through the change. She wants me to keep an eye on you, to make sure that it is going at the rate it should be and that you are not having any problems.” He looked down at me; one side of his mouth was turned up in a half smile. As I studied his face I realized that his eyes held a deep sadness, and I had to stop myself from reaching up to comfort him.

“Can you tell me what I am changing into? I just don’t particularly want to be a werewolf, that’s just too much hair, and I don’t think I want to be psychic. I definitely don’t want to know what everyone thinks of me; that would be too depressing . . . ” I cut myself off before I could ramble anymore. Suddenly feeling awkward, I forced my attention on the sand.

Other books

Goblin Moon by Candace Sams
To Kill a Queen by Alanna Knight
Crash Pad by Whitley Gray
Oscar and Lucinda by Peter Carey
Cut Off by Robertson, Edward W.
Astarte's Wrath by Wolfe, Trisha
Lawe's Justice by Leigh, Lora
Dancing On Air by Hurley-Moore, Nicole
Edison’s Alley by Neal Shusterman and Eric Elfman