Redefined Page 4

  Noticing that I was not appalled by what he was saying, Landen went on. “Watch your back. Brady and Marc are keeping their eye on him, but if you guys are alone with him, choose your words carefully.”

  “Should I ask what Willow says about this?” I whispered, knowing that before, when he was lost, she was the one that seemed to have the most intense senses, powers.

  “No, at least not yet. She’s exhausted, and I’ve done everything I can to distract her from it. My father told me how dangerous she was when I was gone, and that terrifies me - it terrifies her, too.”

  I wanted to tell him that the last emotion I saw in that girl was fear when he was gone. Instead, I had to find a way to carefully ask him about his sister without giving away anything I knew about her.

  “Would Clarissa have brought him here, given him to you, if she thought he was dangerous?”

  His eyes seemed to cloud with unwanted thoughts. “She would never do that on purpose, but she was not herself when we saw her.”

  I stopped him there before I was forced to answer questions that would bring him heartache.

  “Don’t worry about us,” I said as confidently as I could, knowing that Draven would rip Winston in two if he had the slightest reason.

  “Listen,” Landen said, “just before you came, before The Realm, Dane was possessed, walked among us, listening to us, our plots and plans. We knew instantly he was off, that something was wrong, but Willow defended him. It’s not the same with your friend. Dane had emotions he could turn off and on at will, memories and demeanors that would occasionally prove Willow’s point that it was really him. Winston...there is nothing there.”

  “I’ll let the others know. We’ll figure something out, see him when he’s not looking or something,” I mumbled, telling myself that Silas surely would not have sent him here if he knew he was dangerous...unless...unless he was looking for a way to show me that I still needed him. I shook my head once, scolding myself for thinking that he would be that childish.

  Grayson opened the door again, suggesting for the second time that I end my conversation with Landen.

  “We’ll figure it out,” he said quietly.

  “Maybe we should fight our own battles, and when they cross we fight together,” I mumbled.

  My words caused his eyes to widen for an instant, as if a memory had been triggered. That dark past of his was flashing through his thoughts.

  “That might be the only way out of this,” he said under his breath.

  He held my gaze. “I really am sorry that I didn’t drop everything and come for you the moment Austin said you existed - not because I feel like it would have stopped any of this, but because I should have. I should have reached out for people like you from day one instead of thinking that I could do this on my own. I should have realized that your battles, mine, are one and the same.”

  I reached for his hand, which was still on my arm. “You did. Thousands of years ago you reached out for me. You and Willow gave me direction, a new sense of purpose, and now your family of souls is accounted for.”

  Before he could ask me why I said that, I moved toward Grayson, and left the room.

  “You all right?” Grayson asked under his breath.

  “Yeah. He just wanted to know what happened in The Realm.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “Kind of.” I glanced up at him just as we reached the front door. “What’s going on with Monroe?”

  “I don’t know. They have been encouraging her to meditate and now because of that I keep seeing those odd images. Before, when I looked into her I would see our home, Mom. It’s like she’s moved past that like she’s grasping whatever she is - and that scares the bloody hell out of me.”

  “Me, too,” I uttered. “What about Winston? Have you looked into him to see where he went or why?”

  “Tried, brick wall,” he said in a seething tone as Willow opened the glass door and stepped in.

  “Hey,” she said, looking between us, obviously picking up on Grayson’s anger and my stifled fear. “Everything okay?” she asked protectively, locking eyes with me.

  If I didn’t know before, I knew now that this girl would literally put everything she was dealing with to the side to save another soul. An admirable trait, but Landen was right: she needed to rest, let us deal with this.

  “Just trying to take it all in,” I said with a forced smile, stepping past her, not giving her a chance to ask me anything else.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Landen stepping out of the den and reaching for her. I told myself they would be all right. Just like us, they just needed a chance to process all of this.

  They had backed Jeeps up to the porch and were setting up basic equipment. My first thought was to rescue Madison from whatever conversation she was stuck in, but when I stepped around the porch I found her seat empty and Beth and Felicity still sitting there.

  “Did you see where Madison went?”

  Beth nodded toward the open field. “She said after something like what you just went through, all of you play music and she sketches.”

  I followed their stare, and in the twilight of the day I saw Madison in the distance, in a field of flowers with an open sketchbook, clearly searching for her own personal escape. I began to move my fingers across my thumb, craving mine, the hum of an electrifying guitar under my fingertips, the embodying power of music that allows me to hide from my fears.

  “Very true,” I mumbled, bowing slightly to Beth, Drake’s mom, before turning to find Draven and Aden.

  They were at the foot of the stairs between the steps and the jeeps – at least their bodies were. Both of their eyes were dark, and every second or two an amp or a part of a drum would appear around them.

  I thought about leaving them to it and talking to Monroe, but when I glanced up to see her on the porch I saw that Grayson had her attention. They were staring into each other deeply as Preston and Libby sat by beside them. I knew he would get further with her than I would at this point. She only really opened up to me when we were all alone, and there were far too many people around now.

  Draven’s eyes turned green as my favorite guitar - my father’s, the one that was black one with smoke lines racing through it - appeared in his hand.

  “Thought this would make you feel more at home,” he said, holding my stare and looking for a break in my composure, hoping it wouldn’t make me cry instead.

  “It does,” I said as I pulled his waist against me. “Makes me believe they’re still real.”

  His lips caught mine and we both held back the urge to display the passion our relationship was known for. His forehead leaned against mine as his hand reached for my neck and his fingertips tenderly outlined my jawline.

  “One way or another, you are going to see them again - I swear. Nothing is going to hurt you, not one scratch.”

  I squeezed his side. “See me,” I whispered as I opened my mind and revealed the conversation I had with Landen, the warning he had about Winston.

  Within a second, Draven’s expression turned stone cold as anger engulfed his image. He leaned away from me as his eyes searched for Winston.

  “Don’t go near him.” Draven’s tone was so firm, so commanding that it made my stomach twist. I felt like I was the one in trouble.

  He instantly responded to my expression. “Not alone – promise,” he said quietly to me, so quietly that I only heard it because I was watching his perfect lips.

  I nodded. “I’ll find a power source,” I said a little louder, feeling the glances of this family on us. They seemed curious about us, about our passion for each other, for music - which made sense; this place basically worshiped love and the things that created it.

  Draven smirked. “Hopefully, you won’t have to go all the way to the actual windmill,” he said, taking my lead as he nodded toward the field then reached out and nudged Brady, who was a few feet away. That was when I realized that this dimension was powered by natural power, when I
developed an even deeper respect for this place.

  “You won’t,” Brady said, trying not to laugh. He was setting up Aden’s drums as they appeared piece by piece.

  Draven kissed my forehead before his eyes turned dark as coal once again.

  “There is a power outlet on the side of the house,” Brady said, nodding in the direction I needed to go, then glancing over his shoulder in the other direction. I saw Ashten and Winston coming from around the corner of the porch. I guess Landen was right: they really weren’t letting him out of their sight.

  I grinned to thank him then carefully laid the cords behind the bushes so no one would trip over them. It was now dark and the sky looked like a blanket of diamonds. We didn't have this many stars in my dimension, that was for sure.

  As soon as that thought emerged, I squinted my eyes closed and held my temples. My mind was showing me a sky that had four times as many stars - not only stars, but also planets that could be clearly seen moving above me.

  I gasped and began to breathe deeply in and out. I struggled with the cords I was plugging in. As soon as they were secure I turned to rush back to my anchor, Draven. I didn’t want to have another mental collapse in the side yard all alone.

  One problem: there was a tall, dark shadow behind me. As he stepped closer, the gleam from the porch light revealed his face: Drake.

  “Hey,” I said with little enthusiasm as I tried to hide the fact that my heart was racing and my insides were caving in. I didn’t have the mental strength for a one-on-one with him. I was sure of it.

  His magnetism was almost too powerful to handle. I didn’t know if I should treat him as a king or just an ordinary boy that I’d saved a few hours ago. Of course, he then helped save Draven, so to say the least I was pretty much speechless, frozen in place.

  His eyes slowly moved over me as he stepped closer.

  “Are you sure you want to stay here, in Chara?” he asked, as if we were old friends.

  “I...um...we have been trying to get here for a while, so yeah,” I said with the slightest tremble in my voice, not sure why he would ask such a question.

  Whatever he had planned to say to me seemed to fade from his image. “Are you all right? You look pale,” he asked as concern built in his tall, dominant stance.

  I don’t know why, but my bottom lip started to tremble. I didn’t know how to answer him. I wasn’t much for lying, and I didn’t care to explain the truth to anyone. I couldn’t speak about what I’d seen and gone through upstairs because that would make it real.

  “No, you’re not,” he said as he slowly moved toward me and sympathy filled his dark eyes. “Did someone hurt you?”

  The tears that were glassing over my eyes spilled down my cheeks.

  “My entire life is a fabrication - some kind of orchestrated play or something. I was led to believe one thing, only to find out at the worst possible moment that it was just that - all fake. And the people who could soothe me, explain why - my parents – are gone, and I doubt I’ll ever see them again.”

  He reached in his suit pocket and pulled loose a satin handkerchief, then wiped away my tears. Feeling like a fool, I took it from him and cleared away my face.

  “I’m not a crier,” I muttered.

  “Trust me, I am the last person that you have to justify yourself to.” Those dark eyes of his swept across my face in the tenderest way, leading me to find comfort with him. “Kinda know how you feel.”

  I smirked. “I knew I liked you.”

  “Did you?” he said, tilting his head and gazing down into my eyes.

  “Draven doesn’t trust a lot of people, let them get close to him. He has found trust with you, and the two of you have barely spoken a paragraph to each other. Why is that?”

  His eyes moved rapidly across my image. “Old souls, I suppose. I have to say I feel the same way. There is something very familiar about him.”

  “He’s been looking for a mentor, someone to help him with…with the cravings he has.”

  “Cravings?”

  “Energy. I want to help him, but he puts a wall up between us.”

  Drake seemed deeply perplexed as he glanced in the direction of the sound of guitars tuning up to play. “We are going to have to figure out how to get that wall down, then.”

  “Make him strong for me. What happened in The Realm would not have happened if that dark energy had not poured into him. Can you teach him how to block that?”

  His eyes looked deeply into mine. “Consider it done.”

  I let out a jagged breath.

  “You want to talk about what is going on with you now?” he asked quietly.

  I moved my head from side to side. “I’ll be all right.”

  “But you are not right now. You’re in shock.”

  “I just don’t get it. Why could my parents have not laid it out? I almost feel like they didn’t think I could handle it. I should be mad, furious about that, but I can’t find the energy to be that way.”

  He clenched his jaw before smiling slightly. “Sometimes, if you think back over what they said in ordinary moments, you will see that they were always pointing in the direction you needed to go, dropping clues here and there. No one knows where we are going to end up, but your parents had to have known what I sense right now.”

  “Dare I ask?”

  “Born royalty,” he said so quietly that I doubted I heard him correctly.

  I cleared my throat. “Listen, I don’t know if you want my advice or not - or if you even care - but here goes.” I glanced over him. “I’ve watched my best friend sketch your image a million times over. She’s stubborn, obsessive, and jealous by nature. She can see clearly, and right now she feels like a replacement. It’s not your fault - this is just the second time this has happened to her.”

  He raised his brow to question me.

  “Don’t ask. He doesn’t matter - or he won’t before it’s all over with. Just be honest with her. And if you dare to get to know her and she dares to let you in, don’t hurt her - or I’ll find a way to hurt you.”

  Those words made him smile slightly as he glanced away.

  “No disrespect, but you gotta give her a break. I mean, she looks just like Willow, and she can see everything you’ve said to Willow.”

  “They don’t look alike to me,” he said as his eyes met mine again.

  I tilted my head to question him.

  “I never saw Willow’s image, only her soul - and those two could not be more different if they tried.”

  “Are you trying to suck up to me or something? Get points in with the best friend?” I teased, not believing I had the courage to do that with a king.

  He smiled a smile that was so breathtaking that I felt my breath catch. Madison needed more than a ring if she was going to deal with this boy.

  “Does your friend Madison not admire intelligence, a game of cat and mouse, surrounded by mystery?” His dark eyes gleamed with anticipation.

  “No doubt,” I said with a smirk.

  “Well,” he said, almost humbly, “I wanted to talk to Madison - alone. I knew she would never agree to such a thing,” he grinned boyishly, “so I followed you over here.”

  My eyes grew wide when I realized that I had been used in a ploy.

  He raised his hands, trying to hide a smile. “I saw how upset you looked at dinner. I wanted you to know I was going to protect you. I just figured Madison would surface, too.”

  “Sorry that part failed, but thanks for making me feel better.”

  He gently moved his head from side to side. “She’s bound to have felt the emotions I watched you battle. I would imagine that she closed her sketchbook and began scanning the crowd for you, perhaps stepping into the house, finally asking Draven where you went - and right about now she should step around the side of the house.”

  Before I could say another word, Madison rounded the corner of the house. Her hasty walk halted when her eyes met Drake’s.

  “Touché, Mr. Blakeshire,�
�� I said under my breath, trying not to grin. Madison may be furious at this moment, but in the end she would definitely admire his tact, even if she never admitted it aloud.

  Madison turned crimson. “They’re waiting on you to play.”

  “Right.” I glanced up at Drake. “Good luck.”

  As I walked by Madison, she reached for my arm. “The ring.”

  “Not a chance.” I glanced at her to show her how tender he was with me. Compassion filled her eyes as I squeezed her shoulder. “Doesn’t hurt to talk.”

  Sure that she had seen what I wanted her to - and not allowing her to argue with me - I continued my walk around the side of the house, finding Grayson and Draven discussing what they would play. Winston was staring at my father’s guitar, which had been placed on a stand next to Draven. Almost defensively, I walked over to it and let my hand rest on the stalk. Just before I went to tell him to leave it alone, a blue shock of energy thrashed out at Winston, giving him more of a warning to stay away than the idle threat I was planning on stating. Winston jumped back, screaming a slew of curse words. His charge backward landed him in Marc and Brady’s arms. Stiffly, they both pushed him to his feet, then inspected his hand, finding no damage.

  “Don’t play that,” Winston said, scowling at me like I’d struck him.

  “Why were you touching it anyway?” I said, as if I were defending my father himself.

  Winston refused to answer. Instead, his eyes smoldered into me.

  “She asked you a question,” Marc seethed, gripping the back of Winston’s arm. I knew then that Landen was totally serious when he said they didn’t trust him.

  Brady stood in front him, glaring down, instantly Draven was there. He gently urged Brady out of his way, then proceeded to glare down at Winston.

  “I’m only going to ask you once.”

  “Thought I heard something,” Winston said so subtly that I barely heard him from where I was. “Don’t let her play it.”

  Draven nodded for him to go to his guitar. Marc released him, trusting Draven’s judgment, then took a seat on the steps and prepared, like the others, to watch us play.