Dazzle Page 5

  The only catch is that Delaney and I can’t do it alone. I unroll the map of Edenly and smooth down the wrinkles with my hand. Even though it is dark I can see by the moonlight, which shines brightly outside the window, illuminating my room in a soft blue glow. The map curls up at the edges making it look like the mountains really are higher than the valley. My fingers trace my neighborhood. I glance across the expansive map and read my markings. Whenever a newspaper article catches my attention of someone in town doing something extraordinary, I mark it on the map with a question mark. There was the time a local woman saved a strange boy from drowning. She was hailed a Good Samaritan. I went to meet her, but the minute I saw her it was clear she wasn’t a Warrior – just a good Edenly citizen doing what’s right. Freshman year a new boy started attending Edenly High and he looked like he was one of us. I followed him around for weeks, but when I saw his neck it was devoid of our mark. The only thing I had succeeded in doing was royally freak him out. He’s still scared of me to this day.

  Using my red pen, I circle the part of town that Ariel lives in and I write the word “two.” Regardless of what Ariel says, her brother is one of us. When the ink dries, I roll back up the map and tuck it away in my drawer. I stuff the newspaper clippings and the slip of paper with Ariel’s address in as well. As I crawl back into bed, a feeling of satisfaction washes over me. We finally found two – only six more to go.

  Stars twinkle against the inky black sky outside of the window. The red numbers on my alarm clock read 12:30.

  Silence fills the house. The sounds of snores come from my parents’ room across the hall. My heart thumps loudly in my chest. It’s the only sound I hear. I fall asleep with thoughts of Ariel racing through my head.

  Chapter 7

  Delaney

  THE CAR CAREENS around the corner. It’s sleek and black with tinted windows in the back, and it tails the car in front of it. I can barely make out the silhouettes of two men in the front seat before the smaller car loses control and plummets off the side of the bridge.

  I wake with a start and sit upright in my bed. The alarm blares from the nightstand. Reaching over, I push the button to turn it off. My heart hammers in my chest and sweat slicks my forehead. It isn’t the first time I’ve dreamt about my visions. It is, however, the first time I feel a sense of danger from it, almost like a foreboding. So badly I wish I could make out the faces of the men in that black car. If I can figure out who they are, then I have the upper hand. As long as I am clueless they could be anywhere.

  Lurking.

  Watching.

  Waiting to strike.

  A shiver runs up my spine. Before I can freak myself out any further, I fling the purple comforter off of me and hop out of bed. My feet sink into the plush carpet when I stand up. I pass the dresser and catch sight of my reflection in the mirror above it. My long scarlet hair is a mess of tangles and knots, and my freckled face looks worried and tired.

  Mom is already in the kitchen rummaging around. I hear the clang of pots and pans, and smell coffee percolating as I make my way down the hallway. Rubbing my tired eyes, I shuffle into the kitchen. Bright light streams in through the window, casting a glow on the soft lemon yellow walls. Mom is dressed in a loose fitting t-shirt and yoga pants. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. She stands over the stove, stirring scrambled eggs in a skillet.

  “Good morning.” She smiles over her shoulder.

  “Hey Mom,” I mumble, making a beeline for the coffee pot. Mom and I are complete opposites when it comes to morning time. She gets up before the sunrise, wide awake and ready to go. In fact, I’m betting by the glow of her skin and the tennis shoes lying by the side door that she’s already been on a run. I, on the other hand, hate to be up before noon.

  “Want some eggs?” Mom spoons a lump of bright yellow onto a small white plate.

  I nod, while pouring steaming coffee into a mug. Footsteps sound behind me and I turn to see Dad stumble into the kitchen. He’s still in his pajamas and marks from his pillow indent his cheek. He and I have always been so much alike.

  “Morning.” He ruffles his hair and plops down in a chair at the kitchen table. As he does, the wooden legs of his chair scrape against the tile floor.

  Mom swoops down to give Dad a kiss. “Sleep well?” She winks at him, and his lips curl upward in a knowing smile. My stomach churns. Even after so many years of marriage my parents still act like newlyweds. As I watch them, I wonder if I will ever have that. I know that my parents assume I will one day have that with Micah, but I’m not so sure. It’s not that I don’t love Micah, because I do. We’ve been friends our entire lives. I can’t even imagine not having him in my life. And he is incredibly hot. I’d have to be an idiot not to notice that.

  But I want the chance to meet someone and fall in love all on my own. I mean, that’s how it happened for my parents. They chose each other. Not because the other one was safe — just because they fell in love.

  I had tried to talk to Mom about this a couple of years earlier, but she just chastised me saying that kids nowadays romanticized everything. She said that life isn’t a romance novel. She reminded me that what I had with Micah was special, and that’s what love is.

  After the unwelcome display of PDA, Mom plunks a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs in front of Dad. I slide into the chair across from him and take a generous gulp from my mug. The liquid is so hot it burns my tongue. I chase it down with a forkful of eggs. My stomach is still in knots from my dream, but I force down a few bites. I never know what kind of day I’ll have, so my strength always needs to be up.

  Mom takes the chair next to mine, her hands wrapped around a ceramic mug. She turns to Dad. “So, what part of our history are you lecturing your students on today?”

  Dad wipes the side of his mouth with a napkin. “No lecture. I’m giving an exam.”

  Mom wrinkles her nose. I groan, grateful I’m not one of his students. Dad is a history professor at Edenly University. I used to want to follow in his footsteps. When I was a little girl, I loved going to the University to listen in on his lectures. He looked so scholarly with his glasses perched on the end of his nose as he shared information about our people’s history. Then one day when I was about ten years old, Micah’s mom was watching me while Mom had an appointment. Mrs. Everett had to take Micah and me with her while she stopped by the hospital where she works as a nurse. Seeing her chatting with and loving on the patients was all it took. After that day I knew I wanted to help people just like Mrs. Everett does.

  “Remember, we have to pick your car up from the shop tonight.” Dad looks at me.

  I nod. My thoughts drift to Sam, causing my pulse to quicken. I lower my gaze, hoping my parents don’t see how warm my face is.

  “Do you need a ride to school?” Mom asks.

  “No, I’m riding with Micah.”

  “Okay. Well, you two be careful.” Mom crosses one slender leg over the other.

  I chuckle. “Yeah, we all know how dangerous that five minute ride to school can be.”

  Mom frowns.

  “Delaney, this is no joking matter,” Dad scolds me. “After what happened the other night you need to be on guard.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.” I push away from the table.

  Mom grabs my arm. “We’re just trying to help.”

  I shake her hand off. “I know, and I’m just trying to live my life.”

  “That’s what we want for you, too, Delaney.” Mom’s voice is soft and it cuts to my heart. I know my parents love me, and I know all they sacrificed so I could be here. It’s just that they have no idea what I want out of my life.

  A knock on the door startles me. Micah’s dark hair appears in the window. I look down at my pajama-clad body and race out of the kitchen. “Tell him I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  While I change into a black skirt, sparkly top and silver ballet flats, I hear Micah talking with my parents. The easy banter between them warms my heart. He�
��s as much a part of this family as I am; just as much as I am a part of his. Listening to them, I run the brush through my thick hair, working through the tangles and knots. Once finished, I race across the hall to the bathroom to brush my teeth and run lip-gloss over my lips.

  Micah smiles when I enter the kitchen and throws me a teasing wink. “Took you long enough.”

  “Can’t rush perfection.” I toss a strand of hair over my shoulder.

  When Micah rolls his eyes, I punch him playfully in the upper arm. My fist connects with the bright red bloom of a flower and the green thorny stem that trails up his shoulder. The pictures on our skin tell the story of our lives, and when I look at the images on Micah’s flesh I can’t help but feel our connection. Not only do I know every picture and every story, but I have been a part of many of them. That’s why several of our tattoos match. Without thinking on it further, I grab my backpack from near the door and fling it over my shoulder. After saying goodbye to my parents, we head outside. The air is already warm and the scent of sweet roses fills my senses as we walk toward Micah’s little sports car that’s parked at the curb.

  “So, when do you get your car back?” he asks.

  I nudge him in the side. “Why? Already tired of giving me a ride?”

  He chuckles. “No. Just wondering.”

  “Tonight.” I slip into the passenger seat while Sam’s face surfaces in my mind.

  Micah and I get to first period a few minutes early. Mr. Chauncey hasn’t even arrived yet and only a few students are seated. After sitting at my desk, I lean over, unzip my backpack and then pull out my notebook and a pen. Mostly Mr. Chauncey lectures, so I’m sure we’ll be taking notes all period. I don’t mind it. In fact, I like it a lot better than doing a bunch of math problems or science experiments. When I sit up, Sam is standing in front of me. I involuntarily gasp.

  Micah’s head whips in my direction.

  “Hey, Delaney.” Sam winks, his stormy eyes piercing into mine.

  He’s never initiated conversation with me before, and I have trouble catching my breath. “Hey, Sam.”

  “Thanks again for saving me.” He points to the scratch on his forehead. It doesn’t look too bad now.

  I giggle. “I didn’t save you. It was nothing.”

  He leans in close. “It was something to me.”

  My head spins. I swallow hard. His foreign scent encompasses me.

  “See you tonight?” He raises his brows.

  I nod as he makes his way back to his desk.

  “What was that about?” Micah whispers harshly.

  I turn to him. “Nothing.”

  “What did he mean about you saving him? Did you go on a rescue without me?” His eyes are narrowed and anger flashes in them. Students whisk by and sit in chairs around us.

  I keep my head down and my voice low. “No. He just bumped his head while we were dropping the car off at the shop and I helped him clean it up. That’s all.”

  “Your dad took your car to Aaron’s? What was he thinking?”

  I sigh in irritation. “They do a good job.”

  “Yeah, but they’re our enemies.”

  Through gritted teeth I say, “Don’t you ever get tired of it, Micah?”

  “Tired of what?”

  Mr. Chauncey’s dress shoes click on the linoleum as he enters the room.

  “Tired of judging everyone by what marks they have on their skin,” I whisper, before straightening back up in my chair.

  Chapter 8

  Sam

  I HAVEN’T HAD a chance to speak to Delaney alone. The entire time she’s been in the shop her dad’s been right by her side. Not only that, but her dad’s made it clear that he doesn’t trust me by throwing me warning looks every chance he gets. It’s like he knows what I have planned. Only I know that’s not the real reason. I’m not one of them, so he’s wary of me. That’s why I used to get picked on as a kid. Back then I would draw on my skin with permanent marker, hoping kids would accept me. I was too stupid to realize that a child’s crude drawing was never going to look like an intricate tattoo. Not only that, but they aren’t real tattoos. The pictures surface magically. Apparently the images depict a life event that Zerach wants you to remember. How creepy is that? Like, I want some guy to control what I wear on my body.

  Now that I’m older, I realize the only way to gain acceptance is by being confident in my uniqueness. The friends I have now like me because I’m different.

  Glancing out the window, I watch Delaney as she talks with her dad in the parking lot. I hear my dad shuffling around in the break room in the back of the shop. The smell of marinara sauce and garlic bread reaches out to me, like fingers beckoning. Now that our customers are gone, he’s eating dinner — leftovers from the night before. My stomach growls, but I’ll wait to eat. I don’t feel like sitting with Dad. He’ll just berate me all through dinner and I’ll lose my appetite. No, thank you. I’ll wait until he’s done and then I’ll grab a bite.

  Wind blows around Delaney, causing her skirt to flare up and expose her pale, shapely legs. Her fiery hair whips around her face. After giving her dad a quick hug he gets in his own car and starts the engine.

  My heart quickens. This is my opportunity. Before she can leave, I race outside. She is already climbing into the front seat of her car. The warm breeze smacks me in the face. I can’t let her leave. Cupping my oily hands around my mouth, I holler Delaney’s name. The scent of car grease and gasoline lingers on my skin.

  Delaney’s head pops up. When she sees me walking toward her she slowly gets out of her car. She furrows her brows in a look of confusion, but there is a shadow of a smile playing on her lips.

  “Hey.” I stop running and struggle to catch my breath.

  She cocks an eyebrow. “That’s why you ran all the way out here? To say hey?”

  I shove down a sarcastic response and force a smile. “No, that’s not all. I wanted to ask you a question.”

  Delaney leans against her car. The wind kicks up again and her hair goes flying. Her cheeks and nose flush. For a moment I am spellbound by her beauty. I scold away the thought. I need to keep focused.

  “How long are you planning to keep me in suspense?” Her glossy lips curl upward in an amused look.

  Her cavalier attitude is really getting on my nerves. Running a hand over my hair, I swallow hard. “I…well…I just…wanted to know if you wanted to grab a coffee or something sometime.”

  Her eyes widen. “What about Bree?”

  The question catches me off guard. “What about her?”

  “Isn’t she your girlfriend?”

  I chuckle. “No, we just—” I clamp my mouth shut before saying that we just fool around sometimes. That would not go over well with Miss Goody-Two-Shoes here. “We’re just friends.”

  “Oh.” Her face holds a look of skepticism that irritates me. “I don’t know.”

  My skin crawls. She should be thanking her lucky stars I asked her out instead of acting so stuck up. I fight to keep my face neutral and hope she can’t see the disgust written on it. A car drives past us, its headlights painting the asphalt in front of it. Delaney tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear, drawing my attention to the pictures on her arm.

  “Is it because of Micah?” I’m not sure what’s going on with those two. They act like friends, but it’s suspicious to see a guy and girl who hang out that much together and not be a couple.

  She shakes her head, but I see a flicker in her eyes that makes me uneasy. “I can’t figure you out, Sam. You’ve never spoken two words to me before, yet we’ve gone to school together since we were kids. In fact, you’ve been downright mean. Why are you suddenly so interested in me?”

  I bite my lip, forcing down bitter words. How dare she question me? My head spins. I’m too upset to formulate a response, but her narrowed eyes tell me I need to say something. I lower my gaze, knowing the only way to convince her is to apologize. “I-I’m really sorry. It’s just I’ve always…you know�
�felt funny around you.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve sort of had a little…crush on you…I guess.” The words burn as I push them from my throat. “You know how guys are.” I flash a sheepish grin. Man, I should win a stinking academy award for this performance. “I guess I just didn’t know how to act around you.”

  Color appears on her freckled cheeks. My insides soar. I have her right where I want her.

  Her gaze flicks to my arm, and her eyes darken. I know that when she looks at my arm she’s reminded of the fact that I’m not a follower of Zerach, and it irritates me. If only we didn’t wear our alliances on our skin.

  She glances back up at me, but the hesitancy is written on her face. Before I can say anything to sway her she says, “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can go out with you.”

  Anger boils inside of me as she climbs back in her car. I’m too mad to respond. I know if I call her back I will only say something I’ll regret later. As she drives away, her tires kick up dirt, which sprays me in the face. This only succeeds in angering me further. The minute her car is out of sight, I kick the ground repeatedly with the toe of my shoe while grunting in frustration. When I peer back at the shop, I am relieved that my dad is still safely tucked away in the break room. The last thing I need is for him to witness my childish temper tantrum. A car pulls into the parking lot behind me.

  By the time I turn around, two guys dressed in all black are exiting the car. That’s when I notice the car has tinted windows and these guys don’t look like they’re here for a friendly chat. My heart hammers in my chest. Sweat snakes down my back. I curse myself for not bringing out any tools.

  Before I can come up with a plan, one of them grabs me by the shoulders.

  Chapter 9

  Micah

  “WHAT TOOK YOU so long?” I ask Delaney as she races up the walkway to her house, her skirt swimming around her legs. She flinches upon hearing my voice. The sky is dark now and the air has cooled down.