Arkadia (Halfway House Series Book 1) (2 page)

Wishing she had grabbed her black bomber jacket on the way out, Arkadia wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her arms with her hands. How dare that woman come in and start ordering me around? Who in the name of all things magical does she think she is? Arkadia’s mind was like an out of control car, jumping from thought to thought as she wandered the dark street not truly knowing where she was headed; she just knew she didn’t want to go home to ... her.

The cold air had a bone-chilling arctic bite to it, cutting through the light sweater she was wearing. She knew she needed to find somewhere sheltered, somewhere out of the wind so she could think, work out what the hell she was going to do about this … this … intrusion. Turning the corner at the end of the street, she suddenly knew where her feet had taken her; somewhere she always felt a sense of peace. Arkadia looked up and read the sign, ‘Huntsville Cemetery’. She knew the gate would be locked, but then Arkadia had been here many times after hours and had already created a hidden hole. She bent in the wire down toward the left corner of the cemetery’s fence, ducked her head, and crept through.

Arkadia took a deep breath as she stood tall. She looked around at all the beautiful grave stones; the deep blue hue of the light cast from the corner street light added to the creepy feeling of being in a cemetery late at night. Arkadia walked until she found her favorite grave; it was of a devoted mother, grandmother, and great grandmother named Beatrice Spencer. She was a simple human woman, deeply loved by her family, and happened to have the same Christian name as her own mother, whom she missed to the point her heart hurt.

Taking a seat next to the grave, Arkadia took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. ”What am I going to do about … what was her name again? Smelly cheese? Bag of peas? Eloise, that’s it … Eloise. For a woman who appeared to want to wreck her life completely, it was quite a pretty name. If only I could get a pass on my stupid PSEs, the ‘Paranormal Safety Exams’, then I could be free of this house, free of Eloise Mayflower, free, free, freeeeee.’ Arkadia knew she had one more shot at her PSEs, one more chance before she was sent away, silenced forever; a shiver ran down Arkadia’s spine that had nothing to do with the cold gust of air that just whipped her cheek.

She picked up a stick from the ground; it was about the thickness of her thumb and as long as a school ruler. She held it tight at the base, wiggled to get comfortable and crossed her legs under herself. She was determined to set the stick on fire. The fire element was one of her favorites, and with her chattering teeth, Arkadia thought a little fire might be just what the doctor ordered. As she slowed her breathing and concentrated on the tip of the stick, Arkadia began to whisper,

“Fire … Fire … Fire,

By the power of three,

feel the heat, feel the burn,

give Fire control to me.”

Nothing. Not even a hint of smoke. Arkadia said it again, staring harder at the stick, and still nothing. Again, and again, she chanted the incantation; that stick wasn’t seeing anything even resembling a spark anytime soon. Arkadia threw the stick as hard as she could into the darkness. It disappeared into the night just like Arkadia felt she was doing in her own life.

Picking up a leaf, she thought maybe the wind was more cooperative. She laid the leaf on her open palm, stared at it, and slowed her breathing once more. Arkadia began to call upon the element of air,

“Air … Air …Air...
By the power of three,
feel the wind, feel the breeze,
give Air control to me.”

Suddenly the wind died in the graveyard, not even a single whisper of wind. “Oh come on!! I said give it, not take it; that’s not even remotely funny,” Arkadia said into the night sky. Again she called upon the air, nothing; again, and again she called, the last time through gritted teeth with anger seeping off of her in waves of frustration. Arkadia seemed to have every word dipped in pure hatred as she all but yelled it the last time.

Just then a huge gust of wind sprung up behind her, it was carrying such a force it almost lifted Arkadia off the ground. The wind picked up the leaf and threw it through the air. The small brown leaf hurtled chaotically across the sky with a microburst that shot the leaf sideways, and it hit the six-foot-tall angel statue that stood behind old Mr. Frewdles Grave. Arkadia’s mouth dropped open, and she watched what seemed to be in slow motion, the angel rock from side to side with the impact of the leaf. Arkadia softly said, “No, no, noooooo,” as she saw the angel tip over and crash to the ground, the head shattering on the gravestone next to it. “Son of a snapping turtle, you have got to be kidding me! I either get no response or pure destruction. Island of shadows, here I come.”

Deciding it was time to get out of there before someone came looking for the cause of all the noise, she apologized to old Mr. Frewdle, told him it was nothing personal, and if she remembered, she would bring some super glue tomorrow and fix his angel’s crushed skull. An empty promise, Arkadia knew it as she spoke it, but she still felt better for having said it.

Arkadia snuck back into the house. No lights were on, and she crept up the stairs to her room. She quietly got dressed in her PJs and slipped under the covers.
Tomorrow is another day, fresh and full of promise; let’s hope it promises to make my magic work,
and she closed her eyes.

In her head, she heard Eloise. “
Remember rule five, Arkadia, no exceptions. Goodnight
.”

Grabbing her covers, she pulled them over her head and grumbled, “Damn mind readers.”

Coming down the stairs in her carefully chosen blue plaid mini-skirt and white silk shirt, she pulled her hair into a simple ponytail. Raven was already at the table with the twins finishing their breakfast.
God, Emerson ate like an animal.
Arkadia heard a soft growl from him toward his sister who just happened to glance at his bowl. She rolled her eyes as Eloise asked, “What would you like for breakfast, Arkadia?”

“Nothing, I don’t do breakfast. Unlike these losers, I have to give a crap what I wear. I just can’t throw on the nearest Wal-Mart fashion faux pas and go to school; people are counting on me to guide them through their style crises, not be the cause of it,” Arkadia stated with a flip of her hand toward the table. She walked over to the hall closet to find the little black boots that suited this skirt.

“At least take the lunch I made you.” Eloise smiled gently as she held out the brown paper bag filled with some of the yummy treats she had been up since 5 a.m. preparing for them. Arkadia just stared at Eloise, raising a single eyebrow in contempt for the audacity this woman showed.

“How old do you think I am? Eight?” Arkadia humphed.

“Are you asking metaphorically or literally?” Eloise replied with a cool tone to her voice.

Arkadia turned her nose up at the bag of homemade goodies, grabbed her satchel and began walking out the door. Just as she was closing the door, she heard Raven say, “Eloise, may I have some to take with me? They smell soooo good.” She was such a butt kisser, Arkadia thought. Raven didn’t even eat food. She barely tolerated blood, and had to have children’s sippy cups because she would faint if she saw blood. What a baby, a baby butt kisser. Arkadia made a mental note to punch her in the arm later for making her look bad.

Arkadia always enjoyed walking the few blocks to school; it was nice to feel the breeze in her hair and the sun on her skin. She wasn’t one for ‘exercise’, something about all that unnecessary sweating made her feel dirty, but she weighed it up as even, if she casually walked to school every morning.

A sudden jolt of cosmic energy slapped her upside the head and made every single hair on her body stand to attention. She looked around, her eyes wide with caution, as to what was giving her this reaction, and a black pick-up drove by. Arkadia felt the pull toward it. All the windows were tinted so dark Arkadia couldn’t see inside, but it was the shiniest truck she had seen in a long time. She was by no means a car freak, but it was big, black, and shiny. The tires were so fat, and she squinted as the sunlight hit the chrome which was polished to within an inch of its life; she noted the license plate read, ‘DRGN30’.

Arkadia stretched, and looking at the truck, she tripped and stumbled on the pavement putting a small scuff on the side of her boots. All thoughts of the truck instantly vanished. “Oh my Gawd … these are brand new. Stupid pavement. Stupid truck.” Rubbing the scuff mark, she tried to minimize the damage. The last thing she needed was Vi seeing it and teasing her about being scruffy, or scuffalicious, or scuff me happy, this is how it happens peoples. Arkadia continued her inner musings as she walked the last bit to school; one small thing can brand you for life.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she looked up and read the sign, ‘Huntsville Secondary School’. She sighed deeply at yet again being forced to attend this concert jail full of torture and humans; only good thing was her girls, and as always, her girls were there waiting. She loved her girls, they were more like sisters than friends. After all, they never gave up on her, granted only one of them knew she was a witch, but still, support is still support. Her own family gave up on her; they sent her away, to be “fixed.” Crap family, crap PSEs, it was just all round craptacular.

Arkadia saw Cheyanne first, damn that girl was beautiful. She caught a bus from the local reservation, and her dad was a shaman of the lone wolf tribe. Chey was just over a slender six feet tall. She had dark skin, almost black eyes, long straight dark chocolate hair, and was wearing the single cutest light blue sundress with white strappy sandals. And she was a witch, too.

Then there was Cat, well Catherine, but we all called her Cat. She was the head cheerleader for the school’s hockey team. Arkadia would describe her as “cute as a button” since she had shoulder-length blonde hair with the last few inches dip-dyed blue for the hockey team’s colors. Her dark eyes, obscenely long eyelashes, and button nose made her the center of many boys’ night time dreams, if you know what I mean. Cat was cute, perky and bubbly. Sometimes it made Arkadia feel queasy to be around her, too much sweetness can cause cavities you know.

Arkadia looked toward the last of her group, Vi. Her full name was Violet, but call her that at your own peril – Vi had been rumored to shoot laser beams of deadly destruction from her eyes at anyone who dared to call her Violet. She was the shortest of us all at five-foot-three. Her dark pixie haircut was full of attitude (and gel), she was always in the latest fashion, and held her popularity as the single most important thing in her life, bar none. This was a girl you wanted to be on the good side of, unlike Star Wars, once you hit the dark side, there was no coming back, EVER!!!

Embracing the girls with a squeal and a giggle was the stock standard greeting. We looped our hands and then as a group proceeded to strut toward the lockers. Arkadia knew people looked in awe at them, so they should, she thought. She certainly felt worthy of their admiration as she was the most beautiful girl in school after all, or so she had been told.

“Have you girls seen a new truck in town? Big, black, tinted windows, license plates said, ‘DRGN30’.” The confused look on each of the girl’s faces told her they were clueless to help.
Oh well, can’t be that important.

“What’s up first?” Arkadia asked.

“Math is,” Cat groaned as she continued, “I hate Mr. Barkley, and I really wholeheartedly don’t give a flying fish what X and Y add up to.” Cat and Arkadia laughed, grabbed their math books, closed their lockers, and joined Vi and Chey who had already begun to walk to class.

School dragged, but as Arkadia heard the last bell ring, she suddenly felt re-energized again, funny how the end of day bell always had that effect on her. With a slight skip in her step, she grabbed her bag and headed back to the lockers. Opening up her locker, she exchanged the books she needed for homework – cough not a chance in hell cough – and put back the ones she didn’t.

“Hey, Honey Cakes.”

Arkadia inwardly shuddered at his voice. As she closed the locker door, there he was, leaning on the wall, Sebastian Edward Coulter the third, and he was flashing her that million-dollar smile, and she did mean million dollar; his daddy had paid a fortune to create that dazzler. His smile was only upstaged by his lilac Hugo Boss polo shirt, khaki trousers, and dark brown Gucci loafers. Arkadia rolled her eyes.
Oh my Gawwwd.
It helps, she guessed, when you’re the Mayor’s son and can literally do anything you want in town and get away with it. Sebastian was rarely said no to, by anyone. He was the most popular boy in school. Arkadia thought it had more to do with who his daddy was than who he was. Sebastian had a lot of friends with fathers that needed favors, if you know what I mean. And Sebastian with his six-foot frame, his designer labels, and his Justin Bieber honey-blond flick in his hair, thought he was God’s gift to all of the female species.

“Hi, Sebastian,” Arkadia replied lightly as she walked by. He was not the kind of guy that Arkadia had time for. He spent too much time on himself, and how on earth would he be able to look at her when his eyes never left himself?

“Ark, bayyybeeee, let me take you out tonight, pick you up at six, we will go to dinner and a movie,
Maleficent
just started, you said you wanted to see it, let me take you,’’ Sebastian whispered seductively into her ear as he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. “Come on, Bayyybe, you can’t say no forever, you know you want to, just say yes, Ark.” He almost drooled on her shirt. Arkadia was so repulsed by his slimy hands touching her that her stomach threatened to empty itself all over his precious Gucci loafers. She took a second to think this over. She had always previously said no to this smarmy octopus, but she really didn’t want to go home and face Eloise, lucky for Sebastian.

Pushing back out of his death grip of desire, she looked deep into his almost black eyes and smiled sweetly. “Sure, Sebastian, pick me up at 6 p.m., don’t be late, I don’t care who your daddy is, I don’t wait for anyone.” She pivoted and sashayed out the front door of the school, and left Sebastian doing his best largemouth bass impression.

A date. How do I get myself into these situations, and with Sebastian of all people? Oh well, suck it up buttercup.
She chastised herself, but anything was better than a night in with Eloise.