Chameleon (Supernaturals)

by Kelly Oram

Also by Kelly Oram

Being Jamie Baker

Serial Hottie

V is for Virgin

The Avery Shaw Experiment

Published by Bluefields Creative

Copyright © 2012 by Kelly Oram

Edited by Mary L. Holden (
www.marylholdeneditor.com
)

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

ISBN 0985627743

For...

Robin Daniels.................. Best Boy

On the eve of that last great battle there will rise up one more powerful than the world has ever known. Without her, Evil will win. Delicate she is, for she carries the power of both light and dark, and could easily be swayed by those who would use her for harm. Nothing but the truest love will keep her an agent for Good.

~ The last prophesy of The Oracle

I am in a large, empty room
—a warehouse. It is abandoned. It is dark, damp and drafty. The air is chilly but not bitingly cold, which means this will take place soon, for autumn has already arrived, and it will not be long before the bitterness of winter hits.

In the distance I hear a door slam. I look to the sound and notice a dim flickering light casting shadows upon the wall in the far corner of the building. Whatever is creating the light is hidden behind old machinery. My feet shuffle forward automatically and when I round the corner I gasp at what I see.

A girl hangs from a cross, dying as blood spills from her wrists onto a rickety altar of old cinderblocks at her feet. It is not the sacrificial offering that surprises me—I expect this kind of violence from the visions—it is the girl herself. And her aura.

I am taken aback by the strength of her aura. Never before have I seen such a radiant spirit. It shines with brilliance. It is beautiful, colorful and dancing with energy even as the life drips out of her body. It is the most powerful aura I have ever come across.

I am surprised to see such a strong aura belonging to such a tiny, fragile looking creature. I figure her to be about the age of twelve, but as I draw nearer I realize she is closer to my own age. She is younger than me, but perhaps only by a year or two.

Her hair is a beautiful chocolate brown, and full of so much curl that she looks almost wild. Her eyes are a few shades lighter than her hair, and they pierce my soul as I look into them.

I no longer take notice of any other details in the vision. I concentrate solely on her. I cannot help it. I am drawn to her in a way that I cannot explain. It is as if her soul is calling out to me, begging me to find her, trying to close the distance between us.

It is in this moment that I know. The Creator is guiding me to her, to this girl, this angel. She is the one I have been searching for. The one who will save us all.

A feeling of conviction stirs inside me more powerful than any I have ever experienced. I vow to find her. Vow to save her from this devastating fate.

I watch the rest of the vision with a new fervor, taking in every possible detail. A thousand questions race across my mind but only one escapes my lips. The one I am most desperate to know: “Who are you?”

“Dani!”

Great. I was even hearing his voice in my sleep now.

“Psst! Dani, wake up.”

Or not. I pulled myself from the deepest corner of sleep and opened my eyes. It was dark and I was disoriented, but I didn’t need light to know who was hovering above my head.

“Russ,” I groaned. “Go home right now.”

“Scooch over.”

“No. And be quiet on your way out. If my parents find you here—”

“We won’t get busted. Sit up. I have something for you.”

I glanced at the clock on my nightstand and groaned again. All I wanted was to roll on my side and throw the covers over my head until my alarm went off at seven. But Russ was in one of his moods, and I knew he’d never leave me be until he got whatever it was he came for, so I sat up.

Russ plopped down on my bed in front of me, crossing his legs Indian style to match mine. He sat close enough that our knees rubbed against each other. Even though the blankets separated us, the touch seemed intimate.

I looked at him and in that moment realized, maybe for the very first time, that he was beautiful. In the moonlight his hair looked a lot darker than the honey brown it is in daylight. And his crystal blue eyes were now navy blue. That clean-shaven face I was used to was covered with a light layer of stubble, accentuating his high cheekbones and square jaw line.

This was a side of Russ Devereaux I’d never seen before, and I found it very unsettling.

I also wanted to smack myself for my current train of thought. I swear I’m not one of those sad sacks who has spent her entire life secretly pining over her best friend. Honest. I’m not even sure how I’d feel if he ever did try to make a move. We’ve just never been like that.

Still…over the last couple weeks I’d been getting this really strange feeling. Not sexual really. Just…like I needed to be around him. All the time. It was kind of annoying.

I shook myself from my daydream to find Russ watching me with intrigue. “Mesmerized by my stunning good looks?”

“What?”

“You were staring at me.”

“That was just me sleeping with my eyes open,” I snapped. “It’s three in the morning. What are you doing here?”

I hoped my irritation covered the sense of nerves I had. I’d never been nervous around Russ before, and I really didn’t want him to figure out that I felt so tense now.

Instead of answering my question Russ said, “What happened to the Disney Princess nightgown you wore the last time we were in bed together? That was hot.”

I followed his gaze and to my horror realized I was wearing nothing but panties and a tight camisole. And no bra. Not that there was much there. My barely B’s almost didn’t need a bra, but I hadn’t bothered to turn on the space heater in my room and the fact that the nights were starting to get cooler was painfully obvious.

I scrambled to pull the covers up over my chest. “You’d better have a damn good reason for being here or you’re going to be very sorry.”

“Since when do I need a reason?”

I started to say something but Russ held up a hand to stop me. “Patience grasshopper,” he said. He turned his gaze to the alarm clock on my nightstand.

We sat in silence for a full two minutes. Then he said, “There. It’s three eleven in the morning on September twenty-third. You are officially sixteen.” He flashed a dashing smile and pulled a huge, beautifully wrapped box up off the floor. “Happy Birthday, Dani.”

I was speechless.

“Surprised?” Russ asked with a chuckle.

“Actually, yes. Very.”

Not that Russ would ever forget, he loved making sure everyone in the world knew it was my birthday every year, but this wasn’t some big spectacle like usual. There was no one here to impress but me, and
that
was surprising.

“For future reference this surprise is a lot better than most of your previous ones,” I said. “Definitely better than last year.”

Russ frowned. “You didn’t like the poem I wrote you?”

“The poem I could live with. Even though I don’t think anything that starts with, ‘Dani, Dani, she’s good for the heart. She likes crap like Shakespeare and hates when I fart,’ really counts as poetry. But the fact that you recited it during a mandatory pep rally thrown in my honor?”

“Yeah.” Russ beamed with pride. “That was a good one.”

“How did you get Principle Green to agree to it anyway?”

Russ grinned like the devil. “I’m a very persuasive guy.”

There was no use arguing that. Russ has a gift for charming over everybody he meets. It makes him very convenient to have around because the only talent I have is pissing off everyone I come in contact with.

“Now if I could only persuade you to open this gift already.”