Ever My Merlin (Book 3, My Merlin Series) (28 page)

A circular driveway held a broken fountain, one that would never get repaired. Nestled in a clearing, surrounded by towering pine trees, the manor had one visible path from the woods. The other way was well hidden. Grey turned onto a one-lane street past a red mailbox that marked the long road home. The narrow streets of Concord ebbed and flowed like gentle waves.

Behind us, Tommy, the school bus driver, lumbered along in the big, yellow bus. About half the kids in the school bus boarded at Ragnar Manor. It was one of a handful of vehicles still allowed in the manor’s new security force. Acton-Concord High had received a big infusion of students these past few months. I wished I could have seen them that first day. A bunch of wizard kids from England going to regular school. I snickered at the image of them standing in line at the cafeteria, instead of the sit-down dining hall at Avalon Prep.

“What’s so funny?”

I giggled. “There’s no potions class at AC High.”

Letting out a groan, Grey said, “It’s Marilynn’s fault. She transferred all their records so they could go. Wanted to keep them busy. You should see them in math. It’s pathetic. Their little wizard brains can barely handle two plus two.” He muttered, “At least the gargoyles are more or less normal.”

“Did you really just say that?”

Grey turned red. “Are you sure you really want to go to school?”

I stared out the window, without seeing. “I want my life back.”

He said matter-of-factly, “We’re never getting our lives back, Ry.”

“Then, I’m holding on to whatever I can have.”

Grey made a face. “You know the Council ordered Marilynn to take—”

“She doesn’t want to talk about it, Grey,” Gia said.

She sat in the backseat. I was in the front passenger seat. In the months I’d been gone, she’d cut her hair super short again. It framed her face in jagged red lines. Turning, I smiled at her. She didn’t return the full smile, but her lips uncurled just a little. The small thawing left me happier than I thought possible. I sank back into the Land Rover’s cushioned seat.

Marilynn. Ugh.
I hadn’t planned on going to school this morning. After Matt’s little speech about needing all my attention, I intended to spend the day reviewing the Kronos Eye. Then, I had gone into the kitchen for breakfast.

***

Six a.m. My eyes snapped open under the command of my internal clock. It took me a minute to realize I was actually on
my
bed, in
my
room at
my
house. I stretched and winced. I pulled off the cami I slept in. Black and blue bruises covered my ribs. The darkest one lay right over my heart.... where Vane had given me CPR. Grey told me he’d done so at the UN Meeting before the paramedics arrived. He’d kept me alive.

I touched the breastplate. The knowledge left me in an odd place. By my count, this was about the tenth time he’d rescued me. Funny, because I was hoping to rescue him.

My hand slid over the thick bandage around my lower abdomen. I could keep down solid foods since Friday, my last day at the hospital. The doctors refused to release me until I had a bowel movement, the best indication that my insides were healing. I shuddered at the memory of that experience. As well as I was treated, I hoped I would never have to step inside a hospital again. With effort, I swung my legs off the bed and stood.

Too quickly, I fell down with a solid thump. The door flew open.

“Are you all right?” Gia stomped over to me.

“Fine.” A draft slid across my bare back. I lifted myself on my elbows. “Um, can you shut the door?”

“Sure,” she mumbled. Long bangs fell over her eyes. She avoided looking directly at me. She hadn’t forgiven me. Not that I blamed her. If I let myself think about Blake too much, I would become paralyzed.

I hoisted myself up on my elbows. “It’s early. Why are you up?”

Gia’s eyes widened at the extent of my injuries. “I couldn’t sleep. Grey snores.”

“Really?”

She blushed. “Yeah, well…”

“Don’t worry I won’t ask for details.” I picked up the steel crutch lying by the bed. It zigzagged at the top and hooked around my arm in an innovative way.

“My room is the one next to his!”

“Sure,” I said lightly. Grey had given her Alexa’s old room—something I doubt he would have done if he didn’t care a lot about her. Even if she wasn’t ready to admit it, I was happy she and Grey were supporting each other.

I hobbled to my closet. I pulled on a bra and shirt fairly easily. Garments below the waist were a different matter. I stared at them, trying to figure out how to stretch, without inducing too much pain. Gia walked over to me silently and took the undies and skirt. With minimal help from me, she slipped them on me.

“You look terrible,” she muttered.

“It’s my special gift.”

“What? Causing pain? There we agree,” she snapped, walking to the door. “I have to go get ready for school.”

Monday, right.
I called, “Gia.”

She paused, her hand on the doorknob, but didn’t turn around. I wanted to say a million things. About how sorry I was about Blake. About how much all this sucked. I noticed how white the knuckles of her hand became from her death-grip on the doorknob and got out just one word. “Thanks.”

The death-grip eased off the knob. “I hope this is over soon.”

She slipped out of the room before I could answer.

“So do I,” I said to the closed door.

I moved slowly down the hallway, trying to keep the rubber sole of the crutch from slipping on the manor’s slick hardwood floors.

Colin came out of a room near the end of the hall. Through an open door, I glimpsed Rourke, lying still on a large, four-poster bed. Sylvia’s bed. Despite it being the middle of summer, a thick comforter covered most of his body. On a large easy chair beside him, wearing a T-shirt and yoga pants, Sylvia lay asleep. From what I understood, she rarely left his side.

Colin shut the door with a quiet click. “I didn’t expect to see you about, sword-bearer.”

“I’ve slept enough,” I told him.

Colin nodded. He hovered behind me as I made my way down the stairs. We parted in the hallway. He headed to the gym, while I stumbled a few feet to the kitchen. I swung open its silent door. As soon as I did, I wished I’d never gotten out of bed.

Raindrops streaked down the wall-to-wall windows in the drafty kitchen. The smell of fresh scrambled eggs and toast filled the air. In the middle, next to the island, two people ate breakfast and shared a laugh. Matt and a girl.

It was so normal.

We traveled all over the world and I couldn’t remember him looking so relaxed with me. The grey hue of the kitchen made Matt’s dark brown hair shiny. Next to him stood a delicately framed girl. She was half a head smaller than him, reaching just past his shoulder. From this angle, I saw her profile—high cheekbones, slender nose, and angled jaw.

She had annoyingly white teeth. She twirled a strand of dark-blond hair around her fingers. The last straw was when she lightly slapped Matt’s shoulder as he made another comment. She smiled, showing more white teeth, and I wanted to smack her.

I would be smacking myself. Through the kitchen’s open door, I watched myself.

A duplicate me.

I squinted at her. Well, not quite duplicate.

There were slight differences. She appeared completely the same, but also not. Unlike me, she was uninjured and whole. No black scars on one hand. No bandages. No crutch.

I stepped into the kitchen and said lightly, “I can see I’ve been missed around here.”

Matt jerked away from the duplicate as if he’d been caught with his hand up her skirt.

The duplicate turned to face me. Her lips curled into a small, tight smile.

“I’ve been keeping up appearances for you because you’re so important.” From behind the kitchen island, she took out a duplicate crutch. She glanced at Matt. “Don’t worry, I’ll continue to serve as needed.”

Serving who as needed?
I bit back the mean-spirited retort. Instead, saying, “Well, you can stop stealing my identity. I’m back.”

It was surreal. Like talking into a mirror, except that this reflection talked back.

Matt sighed. “Marilynn, please take off the glamour.”

The duplicate shifted back into her true form—a college-age girl with a svelte figure, straight black hair and long legs. Marilynn. The wizard school’s administrator. The one who had been crushing on Matt ever since I first met her.

“Why the clone?” I demanded.

Matt answered, “She’s a decoy. To protect you.”

Right.
“Exactly how was she protecting me when I wasn’t here?” I held up a hand. “You know what? I don’t care. There’s no need for this act anymore. You can go.”

Her eyes hardened. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. Your boyfriend saw to that.”

My eyes flickered over Matt. I muttered, “As if Vane is the reason you’re at Ragnar Manor.”

She stalked towards me and the door. “I should get ready for school.”

I put a crutch out to block her. “
Ryan DuLac
will be going to school today. The real one.”

Marilynn looked down her nose at me. “You’re supposed to have a two-hour meeting after school to finalize everything for Prom. Think you can handle it?”

She knew I couldn’t. I had no idea what she’d been doing for two months, but I wasn’t about to cave. “I’ll figure it out.”

She smirked and sent me a “just try” look.

Once the door closed behind her, Matt pounced. “I need you to work on the Kronos Eye with me this morning.”

I ground my teeth. Standing in front of him, leaning on a crutch, looking like death warmed over, and he couldn’t bother to ask how I was doing. God, I needed a break. I said simply, “No.”

“Why?”

My appetite gone, I turned to head back to my room. “Because I need to remember why I
should
help you. I need to remember what’s at stake.”

And I need to remember it away from you.

***

The Land Rover swerved into the student parking lot, nearly hitting a smaller sedan. Very quickly, I was thrust back into reality. I shouted, “Grey!”

“Sorry, I was thinking about something,” he muttered.

“So was I.” I shook off the morning’s aggravating encounter with Matt.

Lately, it was one aggravating encounter after another with him.

Grey pulled up to the curb. I slid out of the SUV. Gia emerged from the back. Weighted drops of rain pelted us. Grey handed me my crutch and drove off to park the car. Gia and I hurried to get under a roof. Well, Gia hurried. I went slower to avoid stretching the muscles too far and tearing the stiches. At least my bruised ribs were healing quickly.

During first period, I watched an indoor lacrosse practice from the bench. The new coach wasn’t too thrilled with my latest injury. The team wasn’t doing so well. The co-captain’s performance (my performance) plummeted after winter break—almost as if she played like another person—and they had a brand new coach. The previous coach (Vane) had been yanked out of the country due to visa problems.

Two girls, one grunge and one cheerleader, smiled at me with too much teeth as I hobbled into history later that morning. Neat rows of desk-chairs ran from the front to the back. I took a seat at the back of the class so I could lean the crutch against the wall. My hand against the bandages on my stomach, I maneuvered myself into a seat. The girls watched me with wide eyes and whispered to each other. I was pretty sure they never talked to each other before today, but everyone knew about the attack. The local news had been quick to pick up on it.

Ramanajan, the captain of the lacrosse team, sauntered into the class. She stopped short when she saw me. Giving me a small, forced smile, she quickly took a seat at the front, far away from me. Another girl on the team, Christine, walked in and sat down in the row beside me. She leaned bulky shoulders against the steel back of the chair.

“You have the worst luck. First, a sprained ankle in winter break and now, attacked…” She colored and ducked her head, her eyes filling with tears. “Sorry, that was dumb. Are you okay? I hope they catch the psycho.”

A picture of Vane flashed in my head. How many times had he been called psycho? At least once or twice by me. Although his methods got results, the label still seemed to fit.

Everyone at school knew of the attack. Concord might lie on the periphery of Boston, but it wasn’t the big city. Communities in the suburbs remained insular, and maniacal knifings weren’t supposed to happen here. I put a hand on Christine’s arm and squeezed. “Hey, it’s okay.
I’m
okay. The doctors say I’ll be off the crutch in less than a week.”

As I said the words, it actually felt true—which was a little depressing on its own. It meant I was getting used to life as the sword-bearer. Ironic, since the end loomed closer and closer.

Christine beamed. “Just in time for Prom. You’ve worked on it so hard. I checked out the Park Hotel during the break. We took some family into the city. My cousins were so jealous. It’s like having Prom at a palace—the huge ballroom, the upstairs balconies, and the view of the city.  I can’t believe you pulled in enough money to book it.”

“We did it,” I reminded her. Christine was part of the Prom committee.

She nodded happily. “Oh, I can’t wait.”

I smiled. “Who’re you going with?”

She colored. Her eyes sought out a boy in tinted glasses and bleached hair lounging in his seat at the front of the class. “Taylor asked me last week.”

As if sensing her gaze, he turned to look back at us, giving her a shy smile. She grinned back. Their happiness hit me like a brick.

I forced myself to smile brightly. “That’s great. I’m thrilled for you.”

And I was. Still, I was floored. This was how I imagined my life. Shy exchanges. First love. Prom. Happy graduation ever after. Instead, I let this fairy tale slip away, and with time swiftly running out, I had little hope of recapturing it.