Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (10 page)

hat could the second half of the story you started telling me last night have to do with anything? My dad didn’t want you around me. What more is there to know?” I paced the carpet, ready to turn and run if Derick said the wrong thing. Dad left me. He
left
me. Thought he was
losing
me.

Derick sat on his bed, taking too much time to respond. Way more than I was willing to give with Dad acting… “I have to—”

“The night we kissed, something happened to me. After I dropped you off and your dad took off, I felt… weird.”

I growled. Could this day get any worse?

A smile lit Derick’s eyes. “Not that kind of weird. I felt alive, warm; I could have taken on the world.”

“So that’s why you didn’t call me—or look at me—because I made you feel
good
?”

He sighed and scooted back. Resting against the headboard, Derick opened his arms for me. “Will you promise not to freak out, not to think you need to call Dr. Pavarti, or go running and screaming away from me?”

The invitation to lay on him tempted me beyond belief, but his words had the opposite effect. I shook my head. “Why would I run from you?”

“I came home that night, feeling weird, and when I walked through the door, my parents didn’t see me.” Spinning his thumbs around each other, Derick didn’t meet my eyes.

My patience wore thin. I needed answers from him. Fast. Or I was going to find them myself. “O-kay. What’s so weird about that?”

He looked up, expression void of color, of humor. “I was invisible. I tried talking to them, but it took hours for whatever effect your kiss had on me to wear off.”

I snatched up my bag, then marched toward the door. “Seriously. You’re going to try to tell me my kiss made you invisible?”

“Please, don’t leave.”

“Why should I stay, Derick?” I grabbed the doorknob. “To think I so easily forgave you, and you can’t even give me an honest explanation.”

“I wasn’t lying about your dad. Why would I lie about this?” How stupid! How insanely and utterly stupid. I walked out of the room, leaving him on his bed to think about how cruel he was, but ran right into Mr. Crawford.

“Derick
isn’t
lying, Abby.”

I laughed, an odd, high-pitched thing, one that would surely get me locked in an asylum if my psychologist heard me.

“Come with me.”

He put his arm around my shoulders, taking care not to hurt me, then led me downstairs and into the study. Shelves lined the walls, crowded by hundreds of books with their thick, leather-bound spines and gold foil writing. The golden drapes were tied open with cranberry-red ropes that matched the walls, allowing bright light to flow into the room through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Derick and I loved this room. My parents weren’t into reading, not like me. Our study paled in comparison.

“Have a seat.” Mr. Crawford pointed at the dark leather chair against the only empty wall.

I obeyed—he bullied my father into leaving me here; I wanted to listen to what Mr. Crawford had to say. Had to be better than what his son said.

“Your kiss freed Derick from his human constraints.”

Or not. “Human constraints?” I played along, glancing toward the foyer.

The door was unlocked.

I should run, find my dad, then call Dr. Pavarti
. Maybe someone could come in here and check the Crawfords’ mental stability. Although, given everything that happened recently, I probably imagined all this.

Derick’s dad pulled a book from one of the shelves. The novel was thicker than any others around it, bound by faded black leather that looked aged and ready to fall apart. “No. You are not imaging things, and calling Dr. Pavarti would be bad for you and us.”

My muscles tensed, but strangely, my arm didn’t hurt. I reached out my hand. Nothing. No pain. No stabbing sensations or weakness of any sort.

“When our kind stay close together, we heal faster, our powers grow stronger.”

Mr. Crawford stared into his book. How did he know what I was thinking? What did he mean by
we
?

“But a brighter core is also one of the side-effects of spending time together. We are more easily recognized by our enemies.” He thumbed through the thin pages. “While on the human plane, Kalóan children’s true natures are hidden until something major, some strong emotion, pulls the power from us. Once born, it cannot be stopped. Your light, your power, your knowledge—all these things will only increase.”

“What are you talking about?”

Walking toward me, Mr. Crawford held out the book. On top of the page were the words ‘Powers of Kalóans’. A woman stood underneath with a red shawl wrapped around her, delicate pale chest and shoulders revealed, fiery red hair billowing in an unseen breeze. Light radiated all around her, indicated by thin black lines stretching out from her core. She looked beautiful, angelic, something someone from the time of Rembrandt might have painted.

“This book,
History of Kalós
, explains what we are, how our souls are made up of magic and emotions, positive abilities meant to influence humans to do good, since they cannot seem to achieve that on their own. In normal times, we use our powers to befriend those who need us most to help them overcome pain, grief, sorrow, or whatever ails them—we are the emotions they need. In desperate times, when those who need us are presidents, military officials, politicians and the like, helping takes teams of our kind with various abilities to reach that person—and right now, we live in very desperate times. Look at all the war, the hate.”

Powers of Kalóans. Derick invisible. Power and knowledge and light. Enemies—

“You don’t mean to tell me… you’re not saying we’re not hu…?” I hurried to my feet then ran for the door, but Mr. Crawford was right there, standing between me and freedom.

“My son reacted the same way. The only difference was he knew something changed. You, on the other hand, clearly haven’t experienced a change yet.” He tipped his head. “Would you like to eat something? We can discuss this further, with everyone present.”

“Everyone?”

“Your parents, Derick, Mark and his family—”

“Mark?” I reached into my purse. Full-blown hallucinations were not part of Dr. Pavarti’s warnings, but they should have been.

Derick’s father sighed. “What can we do to help you believe?”

“Show me something magical,” I blurted. Like that would help. PTSD included delusions.
This situation could be a mirage
. All of it.

“Your head. You were punched in the back of the head. When Derick and Mark brought you to the hospital, you had a severe concussion, but it healed. Overnight. Why do you think that is?”

I shrugged, without pain. “Luck?”

“One of our enemies slapped your face, bruised you. When is the last time you looked in the mirror?”

“Yesterday.”

“Look again.” He led me to the powder room in the hallway, then opened the door and ushered me in.

Glancing at the oval mirror, I realized he was right. My cheeks were both pink, normal. “Maybe it wasn’t that bad to begin with.”

“Stubborn child.” Mr. Crawford laughed. “And your arm? Twelve weeks is the typical healing time for a dislocated shoulder.”

Explaining that? Difficult. I took off the brace and then lifted my arm above my head. Pain free.

“I’ll give you that. It’s odd.” Although, I still wanted to bolt for the door. I wanted Mom and Dad, normalcy, calm.

“Breakfast?”

Food was normal. “Sure.”

I followed Mr. Crawford into the kitchen. Derick sat on a barstool, his hair a serious mess of bed-head, eyes focused on a bowl of cereal. I wasn’t sure what to say to him. If I believed anything going on around me, that would mean I should forgive Derick. But his father tried to convince me we’re human
emotions
. Or Kalóans. Difference? Not sure. Did it matter?

Derick made himself invisible. Mr. Crawford read minds. I was… normal. A tinge of jealousy rippled through me. Everyone else claimed powers but me. Hardly seemed fair.

But my kidnappers wanted me for my powers. Laughing, I took a seat at the kitchen table. Derick’s and Mark’s rescue made a lot more sense now: the late call to the police, the fire. I laughed harder, and Mrs. Crawford put her hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay, Abby?”

Derick, on my porch on the night of my date with Mark.
God
. Derick could have been invisible, waiting for me, stalking me? Tears streamed down my face. I needed my doctor. I needed a reality check. Only loony people cracked up like this. “I’m fine.”

I turned around and stared at Derick, who mindlessly stared into what looked like oblivion. “Tell me something—no, tell me a bunch of somethings. Start with when Mark dropped me off the other night. Were you
invisible
on my
porch
?”

He stabbed his spoon into his bowl. I don’t think he took a single bite of food. His face paled, and Derick appeared as though he wanted to puke. “No. I came over to tal—”

Holding up my hand, I said, “Save it. How long were you and Mark there before you rescued me?”

Mr. and Mrs. Crawford exchanged worried glances, their eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but I tried not to pay attention. This breakdown belonged to me.

Alone.

“Abby, I—”

“Derick, please. I was kidnapped, told I hold some mysterious powers, rescued by one of the only people I cared about, thought life was getting somewhat back to normal, and now you and your family are telling me I’m a mythological creature—or something. So,
save it
.” I stood. “Tell me, how long were you there?”

“
Cared
, Abby?” Derick dropped his spoon then fled the kitchen, running up the back entrance to the stairwell.

“Why is
he
upset?” I glared at his parents.

“You are the only person in this world he
cares
about. He avoided you for three months because
he
was scared of
us
. He thought
we
were crazy.” Mrs. Crawford stepped around the kitchen island, then placed both hands on my shoulders. “Once we proved our story to him, and he experienced the power for himself, he grew comfortable with it, but he was afraid to tell you because he didn’t think you would understand—or believe him.” She bent her knees, bringing her gaze level with mine. “I convinced him you would understand. Because you love him. That kiss woke up him but not you. Think about it, Abby.”

My heart stopped.

Love.

Love.

Love
.

Derick
loved
me. I knew he did, and I knew I loved him back, and I knew I acted like a jerk, and I knew I wanted to run up the stairs behind him and apologize profusely, and I… “Wait, I do love him. This is a lot. Are you saying I should have powers because of that kiss?”

“What I’m saying is, maybe you are confused.”

That was an understatement, but not about Derick. Never about Derick. He always held the number one spot in my world, in my heart, in my soul. “I’m going to tell him I’m sorry.”

Then I’d call Dr. Pavarti.

Mr. Crawford blocked the entrance to the stairs, holding out the thick leather book. “Let him calm down. I think you should start reading this.”

He handed it to me.

“Thanks. I’ll get right on that.” I grabbed the monstrous thing that must have weighed thirty pounds, then tried to squeeze by him, but he didn’t budge.

“Before you go up and talk to my son, you need to learn a little about yourself.”

I sighed. “Okay.”

“It will help you understand.”

“Understand what?”

Mr. Crawford ushered me toward the table. “Just read. I’ll get the door.”

“The door?”

The bell rang, and I laughed again. Maybe he
could
read minds. And if that was true, that meant everything Derick told me was, too.

I had a lot to catch up on, to learn, and to feel insanely guilty about.