Chapter One
“The severe drought that has plagued the southeast for the past six months, killing hundreds
of cattle and crippling wildlife, is migrating north. Most of the southern New England states
haven’t seen rain for six months, and current weather patterns indicate this trend will continue
indefinitely, making for an unusually dry, warm fall. Wildfires in the Midwest have now
consumed thousands of acres, dozens of homes, and a total of ten casualties. Rain continues to
drench southern California, creating another mudslide which has claimed six more homes and a
family of four. One hundred sixty people have died from a deadly tornado outbreak that covered
the states of Nebraska, Kansas, and Oklahoma. In other news…”
My hand shot out, slapped the radio button, and cut off the reporter’s dispassionate voice.
My window fan whirred softly, but the cool night air had already dissipated, so the fan did
nothing more than circulate warm air across my skin. I laid in bed in a tank top and undies, a
bead of sweat trailing down my hairline to my jaw, where it detoured to slide down my neck. My
stomach cramped, and my mouth was dry. I reached for the water I kept on my nightstand and
drank it down.
I was starting to understand the old adage “kill the messenger”. The message these days was
never good, all about droughts and fires and tornado outbreaks. It seemed the Earth pulsed with
its own message to the inhabitants that had been abusing it for centuries; a message of doom and
destruction.
I yawned then breathed deeply, wishing for the cool and damp Northeast fall air. Instead, the
air smelled dry and hot, like old pine needles baking in the sun. Despite the weather man’s
promise last night of a “desperately-needed soaking rain after midnight”, it definitely hadn’t
rained.
I rubbed my eyes then swung my feet off the bed. That weatherman should be called a
“whether-man”, because no one knew whether the man actually knew what he was talking about.
The distant rumble of Kent Falls—Kent, Connecticut’s two-hundred-fifty-foot claim to
fame—barely squeezed through the screen of my open window. How long would it take a
drought to suck all the moisture from the falls? I shivered at the thought. I’d been hiking to the
falls every day since June, and I could swear it was shrinking, not that anyone would listen to the
dire musings of some hick sixteen year-old.
Wait. Check that.
Seventeen year-old. Today was my birthday.
With a squeal, I peered at my newly seventeen year-old self in the mirror, checking out my
front-end, back-end and everything in between. I twisted my lips. Obviously, turning seventeen
hadn’t miraculously made me…what? Different? Cool? I pressed my hands to my breast bone
and held my breath, but my chest didn’t look any bigger. I laughed to myself. As if sprouting
boobs during the night would make any difference. Haley Roble would never be a hall goddess,
that was for damn sure.
After a quick “water-saving” shower, I dressed in a pink t-shirt and a pair of jeans with a
hole in one knee. I debated whether to pull back my hair into a ponytail, but after inspecting my
should-length hair, which wasn’t frizzing and actually looked nearly sleek, I decided I shouldn’t
hide a good hair day behind a rubber band.
Skipping down the stairs, I stopped in our cracked, yellow kitchen for a piece of toast. Mom,
despite her blonde bed-head and blue terry robe, still managed to look runway-ready as her blue
eyes gazed into her coffee cup.
Being adopted, I had no one to blame for my less-than-model looks. My petite frame
resembled a tom-boy, and my gray eyes seemed faded in my pale face, unless I wore make-up to
brighten them. I kind of rocked the hair department, thick and straight, though the color bordered
on mousy. My clothes situation, however, was on a good-will basis, and my chest area was a
total bust—not exactly a combination that attracted hall gods.
Mom kissed my cheek. “Happy birthday, Haley.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I ate my toast quickly, trying to get it all in before she had the chance to
get dressed and insist on driving me to school. Maybe, since I was now seventeen, Mom would
make her smother-hood a thing of the past.
“I over-slept. Let me get dressed,” she said, as though reading my thoughts.
“No worries. I’m good with taking the bus. See you later.” I swallowed the last of my toast,
pecked her cheek, grabbed my backpack, and dashed outside before she could lay out the old
Mom-veto. “Love you!” I called over my shoulder.
Slipping my arms through the backpack straps, I detoured through the yard, my feet
crunching over the brown grass. I checked the level of seed in the bird feeders, and made sure
there was water in the bird bath, before hitting the road.
Bird calls echoed through the woods, the trees so thick that they barred almost all daylight
from touching the road. I raised my chin, gazing at the trees towering over me like a protective
shield, then down at the dying wildflowers wilting in beds of shriveled leaves. Minutes later, I
reached the bus stop. I sat on a fallen tree and breathed deeply. It actually did smell like rain. I
nibbled my lip, trying not to get my hopes up while I glanced at the gray sky.
No other kids showed up at the stop, most of them choosing to bum rides from other kids or
parents rather than ride the bus. I didn’t mind; I liked being alone. I poked a limp golden rod, and
dry seeds pattered to the ground. I just didn’t get other kids. It was like they lived by different
rules, and someone had forgotten to give me the rule book. Most of them looked at me like I was
a nut-job cat lady who’d not only lost her marbles, but chucked them at people’s heads. Not that
I cared, of course, what they thought of me. The only opinion that mattered was Elana’s, my best
friend.
A bit of pride filled my chest. Tall, willowy, blonde Elana had dissed the hall goddess crowd
and chosen me as her friend. I smiled. While the friendship hadn’t upgraded my nobody- status
to somebody-status, it proved that maybe I wasn’t such a loser after all.
A car door slammed, and my back stiffened. A moment later, a blue SUV rumbled past. I
sighed in relief that it wasn’t Mom coming for me, and then narrowed my eyes. Mom had still
been undressed at 6:15 in the morning. Now that was a first. Mom was by-the-book rigid to the
point of suffocation, and considered timeliness—not cleanliness—next to Godliness, though I’d
never actually heard her mention God in all my seventeen years. Or maybe it was overprotectiveness next to Godliness. She had that down to a science.
She hated me taking the bus to school, and she inspected every potential friend as if she
might have a secret identity as an axe murderer (which is why I’d never brought Elana to the
house). Basically, she hated me doing anything on my own. My stomach twisted. I hated being
treated like a little kid.
“Stop it!” I ordered myself, already feeling guilty for those thoughts. Mom had adopted me,
and given me a great home. I would do anything for Mom. Well, except stay a child.
I caught a leaf as it fluttered past my face.
The leaves, which should have been sparkling with fall colors of gold, red and orange, were
brown. I ran a finger over the wrinkles in the leaf, and then folded it, the brittle, crackling sound
making me wince. As I wondered if all my fears about global climate change and the destruction
of Earth was finally becoming a reality, something wet pinged my nose.
Rubbing my arm across my face, I searched the trees for the shooter of what I was sure had
been a spit ball.
Ping! Ping! Ping!
“Rain!” I raised my face to the weeping sky.
The skies opened up, and within minutes the hard ground turned into mud. Okay, so
technically the “whether man” had been right; it was after midnight. I dashed for shelter under a
large oak tree. My feet slid in the mud and shot into the air. I landed on my butt.
“Oh, crap.”
I sat with my mouth open, and then sputtered as it filled with rain. Launching myself to my
feet, I took shelter beneath the tree, but the damage was done; I was soaked to the skin. Water
dripped down my face and I danced from foot to foot until, finally, the bus creaked up the hill. I
hauled myself up the bus steps. I squished into an empty seat in the front, settled my soaked
backpack next to me, and watched rain slice down the window. So much for a good hair day.
The rain had stopped by the time the bus reached the school. I could hit the bathroom before
class started and try to do some damage control…if I hurried. I jogged down the hall, my
sneakers squelching on the tile and my wet jeans chafing my thighs as I wove through the mass
of students. Speeding around a corner, my sneakers squeaked when I tried to stop before sliding
into a girl. We collided and tumbled to the floor, my backpack taking most of the impact. A few
kids stopped to snicker.
I pursed my lips, my stomach clenching and my face burning. I’d just bowled down one of
the hall goddesses. For the most part, the hall gods and goddesses looked through me as if I was
nothing but a puff of air, but there was no hiding this time, especially since I was practically
sitting on one.
“Sorry,” I said, skooching back on my butt until I was a safe distance away.
The girl lay on her side and wailed. I shifted on my butt cheeks. Had I hit her that hard?
“Brianna!”
A second hall goddess towered over me, hazel eyes glaring and strawberry blonde ponytail
whipping across her shoulders as her head swiveled between me and Brianna. My stomach sunk
slowly, as though mired in mud. This goddess was none other than the head cheerleader, the
queen goddess herself.
The goddess pulled Brianna to her feet. “Did that loser knock you down?”
Brianna covered her face with her hands and continued crying.
“Did she hurt you?” the cheerleader demanded.
I tried to look somewhat dignified, sitting on my dirty butt in the middle of the floor, with
soggy hair stuck to my face and muddy shoes smearing the linoleum.
“I—Ian dumped me!” Brianna bawled.
I couldn’t stop the gasp. Ian Blais was a crazy-gorgeous senior. With deliciously dark hair
sweeping in a just-got-out-of-bed way across steamy green eyes, he had half the high school girls
panting at his boot heels. Including me. I’d been crushing on Ian for the entire month he’d been
at this school. I scrambled to my feet, not wanting to miss a word regarding Ian’s newly-found
bachelor status.
“Forget him. You can do better than him,” the head hall goddess drawled in a sugary tone.
Patting Brianna’s back, she licked her slightly curving lips.
My shoulders deflated. What head hall goddess wanted, head hall goddess got. And she
wanted Ian. I didn’t stand a chance.
The head hall goddess wrinkled her perfect, button nose. “What’s that smell?”
She turned her icy gaze on me and I sniffed. Oh, crap. Literally. There must be more than
mud caked on my shoe.
“Oh, I think it’s you.”
I lifted my chin. “I don’t give two snoots what you think.”
The goddess’s lip curled. “What are you, a moron? What’s a snoot?”
I didn’t know what a snoot was, because I’d meant to say “two cents.” I kept my chin lifted,
though warmth spread from my neck to my cheeks.
When I didn’t answer, the goddess said, “Oh, God, you are such a loser.” She gave a
delicate little snort. “Come on, Brianna; let’s get away from that smelly freak.” With a swish of
her skirt, she led bawling Brianna down the hall.
Sighing, I slipped off my backpack and leaned against the locker. “Happy birthday to me,” I
muttered.
“Hello, Helen,” murmured a low, totally foxy, totally male voice.
I spun. My backpack slipped from my fingers, and I stared with my mouth agape as Ian
strolled by. He didn’t stop or say anything else, but he winked one of his emerald eyes. I sagged
against the locker. The sound of chattering kids, loud laughter, and slamming lockers faded. My
heart pounded, and heat resurged to my face. I was still staring long after Ian had turned the
corner, my mouth stuck in a half-smile.
The tardy bell clanged overhead, making me start with a jolt. I sighed, checking my wet
jeans with mud spattered on the legs, and muddy shoes. Now I wouldn’t have time to stop in the
bathroom and wipe the poop off my shoe.
Running my fingers through my hair, I stuffed my backpack in my locker, raced down the
hall, and tried to slip unnoticed into art class. I peeked at the seats by the windows, looking for
my usual spot next to Elana, and froze. Sitting in the chair next to my best friend—my chair—
was Ian. The teacher cleared his throat. I staggered to an empty seat at the back instead, and
flipped open my notebook.
The kid next to me said to the guy behind him, “You smell something?”
I tucked my feet under my chair, and tried to pay attention to the teacher, keep one eye on
Ian whispering in Elana’s ear, and write notes at the same time.
The teacher paused, and I read what I wrote.
Through a white prism, all colors are balanced.
Whatever that meant.
I peeked at Ian. He’d bent his head low in order to gaze into Elana’s eyes. Elana giggled and
flipped her hair over her shoulder. My heart took a nosedive. Ian looked at me, and slowly
smiled, white teeth sparkling in perfection.
I looked away and licked my lips. Elana was giggling and making eyes at Ian when she
knew damn well I liked him. I ground my teeth, my stomach muscles tightening. How could she?
Wishing I was anywhere else than in that classroom, with smelly shoes and a muddy butt
and my gut feeling bloated with anger and sadness and Ian whispering God only knew what to
my best friend, I couldn’t help but wonder why Elana had just betrayed me.
**********
I changed into my jammies as soon as I got home from school. They consisted of shorts and
tank top imprinted with tumbling kittens. Kittens made me feel warm and fuzzy. Then I lay in
my bed and stared at the ceiling, trying not to move, think, or feel. When Mom called me for
dinner, I dropped into my chair and pushed peas with my fork, contemplating how my life
sucked.
“Haley, we need to talk,” Mom said.
One. Elana sucked. Until today, I’d thought she was my best friend. I’d done everything
with her, following her through the school like a tail following a fox, but she turned out to be a
back-stabbing liar.
“Now,” she added.
Two. Ian sucked. For a second, I thought I’d blipped his radar, but he only noticed the hall
goddesses, which of course included Elana. And she’d noticed him.
Mom stuck her hand out. “Take this.”
Three. My birthday sucked. Elana hooked up with Ian today of all freaking days. All I’d
wanted for my birthday was some cool clothes and a hall god for a boyfriend, and instead I was
contemplating the fate of a boobless loner who owned sucky clothes and had a backstabbing
BFF.
Wait. What?
I blinked at the necklace dangling from Mom’s fingers.
“Is that a pearl? It’s huge.” I slipped the necklace over my head and admired it. I could
almost scratch the number three suck off my list.
“And this,” she added, handing me a block of wood.
I studied the weird faces carved into it then flipped it over. I had no clue why Mom would
give me a weird statue, but I said, “Thanks, Mom.” I went back to admiring my necklace. “I love
the necklace. It’s gorgeous. But are you sure we can afford it?”
Mom stalked the kitchen as if the coffee maker had been identified by the F.B.I. as public
enemy number one. “They’re from your birth parents.”
My heart froze, and then slowly started beating as though pulsing through layers of ice.
“You know them?”
“A little,” she said.
“What are they like? Where are they? Do you talk to them?”
Mom held up one hand to stop my questions. I tilted my head. As I’d noticed this morning,
she wasn’t so put together. One side of her shirt had un-tucked from her jeans, her hair was
falling out of its ponytail, and her gaze shifted around the room.
Mom put her hands to her stomach and swallowed once, loudly. “I think he’s after you.”
The stone, nestled against my chest, rose and fell with my suddenly shortened breathing.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your parents are dead because of him.”
The pulse in my neck chanted, da-dead, da-dead, da-dead. Air. I needed air. “Some guy
killed my parents, and now he’s after me?”
“Yes. No. I’m not sure.” Mom dropped into a chair and stared at my box, biting her lip.
“Mom, are you sure you’re okay?” When she closed her eyes instead of answering, I
touched her arm. “Okay, just calm down and start from the beginning. You said my birth parents
are dead.”
She nodded.
“Were they in an accident?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “Murdered,” she whispered.
I swallowed then licked my suddenly dry lips. “Were they, like, drug runners or
something?”
“Absolutely not!” Mom snapped.
“Oka-ay.” I sat back. “Was it one of those in-the-wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time kinds of
things?”
“It was a robbery.”
The clock tick, tick, ticked. My heart seemed intent on pulverizing itself against my ribs. The
silence was shattered by someone pounding the front door. Mom leaped up like someone had
electrocuted her butt with a Taser.
She leaned toward me over the kitchen table, staring at me with bulging eyes. “Do exactly as
I say. Don’t move, unless I tell you to.”
I slipped my bunny slippers off my sweaty feet. Who killed my parents? Who was the
psychopath looking for me? What did I have that anyone would want? I glanced over my
shoulder. Was all of this for real, or was Mom having some kind of breakdown?
“Zentu!” Mom yelled from the foyer.
The box rolled off the table and thunked onto the floor. It split open, wide, wider, gaping
darkly. White fog poured out, and I smelled wet dirt.
The sound of the front door slamming against the wall, splintering.
“Haley! Jump!” Mom shouted.
My gaze leaped to the window. Why’d she want me to jump when I could jet out the back
door? And why would she ever think I’d leave when it sounded like some whack job was
breaking in?
“Mom!” I leapt to my feet.
“Eyidora!” Mom called.
I made to run for the door, tripped over my bunny slippers, started falling toward the foggy
floor.
What’s an Eyidora? I thought, just as I plunged head-first into the foggy pool.
The sound of my chair crashing to the floor seemed very far away. Mom screamed once, and
then the sound died.
Chapter Two
I was falling and falling and falling. I kicked the white shadows that carried me, the fog
clinging and suffocating. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t scream. Was I dead? Had
the psychopath at the door killed me?
“Oof!”
I jolted out of the fog with a bone-jarring smack. I rolled to a sitting position, rubbing my
elbow and waiting for my brain to tell me something other than how my jammied butt was
freezing.
Trees…moon…cave…fog. With every blink, something about my surroundings came into
focus. I pushed myself to my feet and let my hazy brain take control.
In the moonlight, I picked out carvings around the edges of a cave. Familiarity flickered. I
was in Kent Falls State Park, far off the path where I’d discovered some old rock carvings. I
studied the cave—there were no caves in the park—and squeezed my lips between two fingers.
How the hell did I get here?
“Wait.” I stroked the carvings…they were faces, the same faces on the box Mom had given
me.
I checked around me, but I was alone. “Mom?”
An owl screeched, and a chill worked up my spine. I leaned forward to poke my head inside
cave, but the opening zipped up with a soft zzzzt, burping a shot of air that lifted my hair.
“Mom!” I slapped the rock. “Mom! What’s going on?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, concentrating on slowing down my heart so that I could
think.
Okay, I had to be dreaming. I’d dreamt that whole door-smashing-Mom-screaming episode,
and then I’d been whisked by my dream to Kent Falls State Park.
Good. I could deal. I’d just wait until I woke up. No biggy. I shivered, and rubbed my arms.
It was much colder in my dream, the way fall should feel in Connecticut. I tiptoed across the
clearing and peeked over the edge of a cliff, again, something that shouldn’t be there. I’d never
had a dream feel so real before; the rocks pinching my feet, the breeze cooling my cheeks, the
smell of the air so clean. My breath plumed in the frosty air.
“Jahme,” snapped a voice behind me.
I whirled to face a guy standing right behind me. A hood shadowed most of his face, but
enough moonlight caught a glint of blue eyes, glaring at me.
“What is the meaning of this?” he barked.
I ducked my chin, and stepped back. Instead of touching ground, my heel caught nothing but
air. I flapped my arms to keep my balance. “Ahh!”
The guy yanked me by the arm, and I flew forward. My knees slammed into the ground.
“Ow. What’s your…”
The guy swept his hood off, and dark blonde hair brushed his shoulders. He looked down his
nose at me as I stared up at him. My glare evaporated. A hint of blue seeped between the guy’s
crushed eyebrows. Blue as endlessly deep as the sky right before twilight, as painfully beautiful
as cupid’s arrow stabbing your heart.
“Problem,” I said, the word faint, and useless.
“How did you come to be on Eyidora?” One side of his mouth curled as though he’d
discovered he’d stepped into a pool of bat shit.
“Eyidora?” I felt like I’d gained a hundred pounds when I stood. Despite the angry glare
twisting his face, and the snarky tone of voice, my skin tingled as though there was an electric
current zipping between us. I hugged myself.
“Is that not what I said?” His voice held the contempt my science teacher had used when I’d
refused to dissect a frog.
I brushed my jammies, secretly checking him out. He looked my age, maybe a year older.
He wore a loose, brown shirt and butt-hugging, tan pants, both made out of suede that looked as
soft as his body was hard. His short jacket hung open in the front, and a knife with a blue handle
hung from a belt. Standing more than a head taller than me, he was just about the hottest guy I’d
ever seen off the movie screen. Second to Ian, of course.
I pulled my tongue back before I licked my lips.
“Answer,” he snapped.
“What?”
A muscle in his cheek rippled.
I tugged the hem of my jammie top. Didn’t people usually dream about nice people that they
knew, not total strangers who were total tools?
“What is wrong?” He had a slight accent; I’d never heard one like it before.
I liked it.
“I’m just trying to figure out who you are,” I said.
“I am Tuggin.”
I didn’t think I could ever forget a hall god with a name like something you’d find in a
Happy Meal. An animal screeched somewhere in the dark, and the guy turned to look. His
clothes were dorky, but he could have worn anything with that jacked body. He turned back to
me, and I quickly averted my gaze from his butt.
He ran his fingers through his hair. A tiny hoop with small colored beads dangled from one
ear. A second earring, a single black bead, had been pierced through his lobe right above the
hoop. His gaze drifted away from me; across the trees, at the mysteriously-disappearing-cavenow-turned-rock, back to the trees. His eyes snapped to my face with the suddenness of a guard
dog being jerked back on a choke chain. “Haley.”
He made it sound like an accusation, as if being Haley was some sort of crime. I crossed my
arms. “Yeah? So?”
“I do not want you here.”
What an ass. His gaze snaked upward from my feet and landed back on my face. It was a
movement that made me feel naked, and my body vibrated in response. I cleared my throat.
He glanced past me at the silent hillside. “Jahme. Wait.” He strode toward two horses
standing at the edge of the trees. He marched back and flung a red backpack at me. “Change your
clothing. You cannot wear those…” another sweeping gaze over my body, “…things.”
Another ripping shudder. Goosebumps rose across my skin. I grabbed the pack, my
fingernails scraping the stiff material. “They’re my jammies.”
“They are absurd. Change.”
I calmed myself with a deep breath. I’d wake up soon, and Snarky Boy would be a distant
memory. I dropped the back pack. “I’m dreaming.”
His cheek did that twitchy thing again. “Do not be absurd. Have you learned nothing on
Earth?”
“Plenty. I’m a junior in high school, you know.”
He looked at me as though I’d just told him that the tooth fairy was his mother.
Now, I could do what I wanted in my dream. I could plant a big wet one on his lips in my
dream. And he would kiss me back in my dream. He had seriously delicious-looking lips, and I’d
bet he was a damn good kisser. Warmth nibbled my skin.
“You will come with me.” He added a sigh, as if I couldn’t tell by his tone how royally
pissed he was.
I shook my head, trying to toss my thoughts back in order. He was crazy-gorgeous, but he
was a major tool. “Yeah, I don’t think so. See, there’s an issue with my Mom and…”
“That matters not. You are coming with me.”
“And I’m supposed to listen to you…why?”
“You are wasteful of my time. Change your clothing. Now!”
“And if I don’t?”
He took one slow step toward me. His hand drifted to the knife, sparkling like blue fire in
the moonlight, matching the blue fire that sparked in his eyes. “Then you will die.”