Paranoia (5 page)

―Well it should be,‖ Hadley says, standing up. ―If you go through with this—if you

murder Natalia and Cam because of fear and paranoia— ‖

―That‘s enough Hadley,‖ Reed says, holding up his hand. A gold ring glints on his left hand. ―You‘ve become too involved already. Please excuse yourself from the room. We‘ll finish with Campbell alone.‖

―This is wrong, Reed,‖ she says, ―You – ‖

―Hadley,‖ Reed says, ―Go.‖ Hadley opens her mouth, and for a second, it looks like she‘s going to say something else. But instead, she stands up and strides toward the exit. The doors to the hall slam shut.

Now it‘s just the three of us. Reed and Annabel e stare at me across the table.

For the first time I‘m starting to feel genuinely afraid. I thought I‘d have a chance to make my escape, but everything‘s

happening

way

too

fast.

The

desperation is seeping in, and I can hear it in my voice. ―I‘m willing to undergo whatever procedure, whatever is necessary to break this bond I have with Raine,‖ I say, looking at both of them, making eye contact in an effort to show I‘m being sincere. ―Give me a few days at least.

Let me learn what I need so I can defend myself from Raine and her friends.‖

Annabel e sighs. ―I think you‘re sincere, Campbell . I believe you want to try.

But unfortunately, I think you‘re in way over your head.‖ She looks at Reed, waiting for the final verdict.

―This hasn‘t been easy for you, Cam,‖ Reed says, still studying me with that piercing gaze.

―No, it hasn‘t,‖ I say.

Reed looks down and seems to withdraw into himself, his eyes growing distant. I can

sense for the first time a power—a deep, strong reservoir of strength—behind those dark eyes.

He‘s not a dumb guy, like Brody or Derek. He‘s a serious person and I have a feeling he‘s much, much older than he looks.

―I wish we had the time to teach you and Natalia what we know,‖ he continues.

―To educate you both on the perils of this existence.

But we waited too long to find you, and unfortunately, Raine found you first. We failed you, Cam.‖ Now Reed looks up, directly into my eyes. Suddenly, I am frozen.

I can‘t move. I can‘t speak.

Reed‘s eyes are focused and calm. ―Please understand that I bear you no ill will .

It pains me to have to do this. And so it will be quick and painless. First you will become drowsy, then you will start to feel warm, and actual y quite happy. You‘ll begin to drift off into a deep, contented sleep.‖ He sounds like a doctor talking about some minor medical procedure.

But he‘s not talking about something minor—he‘s tell ing me how I‘m going to die. I

open my mouth to say something, but I‘m already feeling warm.

Floating. My muscles begin to relax.

―It will be painless,‖ Reed assures me. ―And we will remember your name. We will

honor your memory.

And Natalia‘s, too. Together, may you be reunited on the other side.‖

Don’t Miss The Witches of Santa Anna #12,
Coming June 2011…..

Can‘t wait?? Turn the page for a sneak peek of EMBERS, the first book of the new

Playing With Fire series from Lauren Barnholdt and Aaron Gorvine, available now….

EMBERS (Playing With Fire #1)

By Lauren Barnholdt & Aaron Gorvine Copyright 2011, Lauren Barnholdt and Aaron

Gorvine, all rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this text may be reproduced without written permission of the authors.

Chapter One

Emily

This vacation is not off to a good start. I‘ve been in the backseat of my parents‘

car for five hours, and my iPod died after the first two. Which means that for the past three hours, I‘ve been subjected to listening to whatever my dad put on the car radio (read: 1940s jazz music, or political talk radio.) After the first hour, I was getting antsy. I‘d finished my book (ending = the destined-to-be couple got together, despite all odds), and it was getting hot in the backseat. By the third hour, I was so bored I was actual y considering pulling out the travel Scrabble and playing a game. Against myself.

I know I shouldn‘t be complaining. And normal y, I wouldn‘t be. Normal y, I‘d be super excited about going away to the Cape, spending the summer by the beach, relaxing, working on my tan, and forgetting about the stresses of home. But this summer isn‘t normal. This summer is completely different. This summer, I actual y have someone to stay home for.

―We‘re here,‖ my dad announces from the front seat.

I look up from rereading the best parts of the book I just finished, and my jaw drops.

―This is the house we‘re staying in?‖ I ask in disbelief. I was picturing a tiny cottage, with crumbling shutters and a ramshackle fence in need of some paint. But this house… this house is huge.

It‘s sprawling and new, with cream-colored siding, a neatly manicured lawn, and huge

sparkling windows.

Rose bushes line either side of the granite steps, and a neat white fence separates the back from the front.

―Yup,‖ my dad says, sounding proud of himself. He slides the car into park. In the

passenger seat, my mom pushes her sunglasses up on her forehead and peers through the windshield.

―It‘s gorgeous,‖ she says. ―I think we should all get in the pool and worry about

unpacking later.‖

―It has a pool?‖ I‘m out of the car now, shielding my eyes from the sun as I stare up the driveway toward the house. ―How the hell can we afford a place like this?‖ I demand. My parents are not rich. They‘re not poor, either, but money has always been tight. In fact, this is the first family vacation I can remember us taking since I was a little kid. And even then we always stayed in cheap motels and ate most of our meals at Burger King.

My phone beeps with a text before I can get any explanation regarding our financial

situation. I pull it out of my bag.

Gabe.

―miss u already‖

I swallow around the lump in my throat. I don‘t care about the pool anymore. Or the fact that the house we‘re staying in is so big. I don‘t care about anything except the fact that I just want to go home.

***

Once we‘re inside, my parents immediately head upstairs to drop their bags off in the master bedroom, but I leave mine on the floor in the middle of the front hall . I‘m hoping they get the message.

The message being, ―Oh, look, you brought me here and made me leave my boyfriend, so

now I‘m going to refuse to put my stuff away.‖ It‘s ridiculous and childish and bratty and I kind of don‘t care.

Once I‘ve made my big statement, I don‘t real y know what else to do with myself, so I wander through the huge kitchen and into the backyard.

I‘m getting myself al worked up, wondering how my parents could do this to me, and so at first, I don‘t see him. The guy. He‘s cleaning the huge, inground pool, and he looks up when I come outside, his eyes meeting mine.

―Oh,‖ I say, ―Sorry, I, um, I didn‘t know anyone was going to be back here.‖

He‘s wearing a pair of navy blue shorts, and no shirt, and he‘s skimming the water with a huge net. ―No problem,‖ he says, grinning. ―You must be the tenants.‖

―Yeah,‖ I say, ―And you must be … ― I trail off, because I‘m not sure exactly what to say. Somehow saying ‗you must be the pool boy‘ definitely doesn‘t seem like it‘s okay. Not that I would know for sure.

We‘ve never had a pool boy before. We‘ve never even paid someone to cut our lawn.

―I‘m Lucas,‖ he says. He pulls the net out of the pool and drops it on the concrete stones.

He picks his shirt up off a lawn chair, and then tosses it over his head. ―I live here.‖

―You live here?‖

―Don‘t worry,‖ he says, seeing the look on my face.

―Not for the summer.‖ He pushes by me and toward the other side of the pool. As he

does, he pushes his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, and I swallow.

Hard. His muscles bulge through the fabric. His arms are tan and strong, the kind of arms that have obviously spent a lot of time outside, working in the sun.

―You live here but not for the summer?‖ I ask. ―That doesn‘t make sense.‖

―My dad owns this house,‖ he says, ―But in the summer, he rents it out.‖ He‘s bending down now, his hand in the water, messing around with the filter.

―Why would you rent out a house like this?‖ I ask, sitting down in one of the patio chairs.

―It‘s amazing.‖

―My dad likes to stay closer to the beach in the summer,‖ he says, and shrugs. He finishes with the filter and wipes his hand on his shorts.

Suddenly, I‘m aware of the fact that my hair is probably a mess from napping on it in the car, and I‘m sure my makeup is dripping down my face because of the humidity.

Not that I care what I look like. I mean, I have a boyfriend. Okay, that‘s a lie. I kind of do care what I look like. Because Lucas is hot. The kind of hot that isn‘t disputable. The kind of hot that, boyfriend or not, you can‘t help but notice.

―Emily, did you – ― my mom starts, walking out onto the patio. ―Oh,‖ she says when she sees Lucas. ―I didn‘t know someone else was out here.‖

For a second, I think I see a look of anxiety, or maybe fear, flash across her face.

But that doesn‘t make any sense. Why would she be worried about a guy who‘s cleaning

our pool?

―Sorry,‖ Lucas says, giving her a grin. He reaches over and holds out his hand.

―I‘m Lucas Marshal . My dad owns this house.‖

―Oh, of course!‖ my mom says, her eyes lighting up.

―Paul mentioned he had a boy just Emily‘s age.‖

―I was just cleaning the pool,‖ Lucas says. ―It‘s such a hot day, I figured you might want to have a swim.‖

―That‘s so nice of you,‖ my mom says. ―That‘s so nice of him, isn‘t it, Emily?‖

―Yeah,‖ I say, ―Very nice.‖ I stand up. It‘s time for me to go in the house. One, because I need to call Gabe and two, because I know what‘s about to happen.

See, the thing is, my mom real y does not like the fact that I have a boyfriend.

Which is total y ridiculous, since Gabe is exactly the kind of guy you‘d want your

daughter to be dating –

straight A student, athletic, super polite, etc.

But it‘s not about Gabe. My mom doesn‘t think I should be serious with any guy right

now. She thinks when you‘re sixteen you should be out partying and having fun.

She‘s constantly tell ing me to ―be young while I can‖

and ―explore my options.‖ It‘s pretty ironic, actual y.

Most girls would kill for a mom who wants them to go out and party all the time. But all I want is for her to accept that I‘m not into al that typical high school stuff.

―So, Luke,‖ my mom says, sidling closer to him. I wonder what he thinks about her call ing him Luke, when he said his name was Lucas. It‘s like when people call me

‗Em‘ without asking. I hate that. People shouldn‘t shorten your name unless they ask you first. Or unless they know you really well.

I sneak a glance at my phone to see if Gabe texted me again. I wonder if it would be rude to just walk into the house.

―Would you like to stay for dinner?‖ my mom asks.

I look at her, not even trying to disguise the look of horror on my face. Would he like to stay for dinner?

Is she crazy? You don‘t just go around asking hot guys to stay for dinner.

―Oh, I can‘t,‖ Lucas says. He‘s still kneeling down by the pool, testing the chlorine levels. ―I have plans. In fact, I‘m already late.‖

―Plans?‖ My mom looks interested. ―What kind of plans?‖

―One of my friends is having a party,‖ Lucas says. He packs up the chlorine testing kit and stands up.

―Pool‘s al set.‖

―A party sounds wonderful!‖ My mom turns to me and claps her hands. ―Emily, wouldn‘t

you love to go to a party tonight?‖

I feel my face turn hot. One of the curses of being a redhead is that I blush super easy.

And everyone around me can usual y tell . ―No, Mom,‖ I say, ―I wouldn‘t.‖

―I‘m sure Emily wants to stay here and get settled in with her family,‖ Lucas says,

sounding like he‘s trying to be diplomatic.

My blush gets even deeper. Great. Now not only is my mom trying to dump me off on

some guy I just met, but he doesn‘t even want to take me to wherever he‘s going.

Not that I blame him. I wouldn‘t want to take some stranger to hang out with me and my friends, either.

But still . Hasn‘t he heard of inviting someone just to be polite?

―Yes,‖ I say, nodding. ―I have to stay here and get settled in. Plus I have to call my boyfriend.‖

―Oh, nonsense,‖ my mom says, waving her hand in the air like what I‘ve just said is

completely ridiculous. ―You should go to the party. Shouldn‘t she, Lucas?‖

―Um, sure,‖ Lucas says, giving me a polite smile.

―You should come.‖

―I don‘t want to.‖

―Why not?‖ my mom asks.

―Yeah, why not?‖ Lucas asks. Now all of a sudden he wants me to go? Probably he‘s not used to girls turning him down.

―I‘d need time to get ready,‖ I say, trying once again to extricate myself from this

situation. ―And I‘m not even unpacked.‖

―Al you‘d have to do is change your clothes,‖ my mom says. ―You look beautiful

already. Doesn‘t she, Luke?‖

―Sure,‖ he says, his smile a little strained.

I can tell my mom isn‘t going to let this go – she‘ll keep pushing and pushing until I give in. I know exactly how she gets when she wants something. I think about it, trying to decide if it‘s worth getting into a big fight with her. Maybe the party won‘t be that bad. And if I go, maybe I‘ll be able to meet some friends here, instead of just having to sit inside all summer, hanging out with my parents and missing Gabe.

―Fine,‖ I say, sighing. ―Just give me a sec to get ready.‖

***

I lug my suitcase upstairs, and then pick a bedroom at random. I drop my bag onto the big, comfy looking queen-size bed that‘s sitting in the middle of the room. It‘s covered with an aqua blue comforter, but I brought my own bedding from home, a pink and chocolate polka-dot spread. I thought it would be good to have at least some of my own stuff here.