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Authors: Jennifer Quintenz

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Teen & Young Adult

Incubus (77 page)

BOOK: Incubus
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“I understand,” Fiedler said.

“No disrespect intended, sir,” I murmured, “but I don’t think you do.”

“You watched a burglar murder your friend Derek in your home,” Fiedler said. I looked up,

stricken. Derek. He hadn’t even crossed my mind. “I can’t say I’ve ever been through what you’ve

been through, Braedyn, but I know that it’s affected you profoundly.”

A stinging pressure spread through my nose and into my eyes. I bit my lip, holding back the flood.

“And then, just a few months later, you were in a serious car accident with another good friend.

Lucas, wasn’t it?”

I dropped my eyes, avoiding the necessity of lying. That “car accident” was our cover story for the

extensive injuries Lucas and I had sustained in our battle against Ais.

“I’m afraid that we’ve failed you,” Fiedler continued.

“How do you figure that?” I asked.

“You’ve been through significant trauma—both you and Lucas. We should have mandated

counseling sessions for you both.”

I felt my head snap up. Fiedler was watching me closely. I swallowed, afraid to speak. It was hard

enough fitting everything in as it was, if I had mandatory counseling sessions on top of everything

else...

“I think I’m just really tired,” I said, trying to sound reasonable and sincere. It helped that it was

true. “I haven’t been sleeping well. So, I’ve kind of got a short fuse right now. But I’m going to do

better. I promise.”

Fiedler frowned. “You know it’s not a punishment, right? Speaking with a counselor could really

help you sort through everything you’ve experienced.”

Unlikely,
I thought.

Fiedler must have sensed my resistance. Instead of pushing, he sighed. “How about this? Promise

me you’ll consider it. Anytime you’d like, we can set you up with the school counselor. And I mean

anytime. During class, during lunch, after school—whatever you need, if you need it.”

I forced myself to smile. “Okay. I’ll consider it.”

Fiedler nodded, then leaned forward, crossing his arms on the desk. It was an oddly informal

gesture. “So about this business with Amber.”

“Right.” I slumped in my seat, steeling myself for the fallout.

“I think we can give you a pass.”

“Really?” I looked up, genuinely surprised.

“Just this once. But promise me you’re going to take better care of yourself. Get some sleep. And

consider visiting the school counselor if you need someone to talk to.”

“Yes,” I said. “I promise.”

“Then I think we’re done here. If you hurry you should still be able to enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you,” I said, standing. Fiedler nodded, then waved me out. I left his office and my stomach

growled. Lunch sounded just about right.

“Braedyn.” Seth was waiting for me in the hallway.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I thought you were on the way to the hospital.”

“Naw,” Seth said. “The paramedics checked me out and said I was fine.”

“But—” I started, unwilling to believe that was that. I mean, he’d been on
fire
less than an hour

ago.

“Look, this is the perfect excuse,” Seth said, lowering his voice. “Everyone knows what happened

to me. Just call Lucas and tell him you’re skipping lunch to come visit me at the hospital.”

“Why?” I asked. After this morning, the thought of lying to Lucas turned my stomach.

“Because we’ve got some fresh
ericameria nauseosus
to collect, and it’ll be a lot harder to find it

at three o’clock in the morning. Who knows,” Seth gave me a conspiratorial smile, “we might even

have time to get some sleep tonight.”

That settled it.

“I’m in.”

We drove out of Puerto Escondido, heading northwest. Seth had been following several “wildflower

sightings” blogs, looking for news on a flowering Chamisa (which was also called “Rabbitbrush” by

the wildflower enthusiasts). Apparently, they usually flower in September, but someone had spotted a

late-flowering bush out here just two days ago.

“It’s much better if the ingredients are fresh,” Seth said, rereading the notes he’d taken from his

mother’s journal.

“Yeah, but the ritual’s still over a week away,” I pointed out. “They’re not exactly going to be

fresh at that point.”

“We’re drying them,” Seth said, distracted. “It just helps to control the final outcome if we’ve got

fresh flowers to start with. Something about us killing the blooms ourselves, rather than simply

finding dried flowers on the bush.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, but he wasn’t paying attention. “You sound pretty

excited.”

Seth looked up from his notes. “Yeah, aren’t you? This means you get to become human, be with

Lucas. I know that’s what you want.” Seth gave me a watery smile.

I turned back to the road, thinking for a moment in silence. “It’s amazing.”

“What’s that?” Seth asked.

“When I met you, you didn’t even believe Lilitu were real.”

“Huh.” Seth chewed on his lip for a minute in silence. “A lot has changed since then.”

“Yeah.” I risked another glance at him, worried.

“Mile marker 63,” Seth said, straightening. “Pull off on this access road.”

I followed his directions, and in about 10 minutes we were parking off the side of a dirt road.

“It’s supposed to be over here,” Seth said, shielding his eyes from the sun to look out over the

flora of the high desert foothills.

“There,” I said, pointing. A bush, maybe seven feet tall, sat nestled at the base of a bolder,

crowned with bright yellow flowers.

“That’s the one,” Seth said.

We picked our way through the scrub brush, prairie grass, and cacti until we came to the bush.

“We want only the most perfect flowers,” Seth breathed. He snapped off a small yellow blossom.

It looked like a trumpet, opening up into five delicate petals at the end. “Like this one.”

“How many do we need?”

“Enough to grind the dried flowers down into a cup or more of powder.”

“So... how many?”

“A lot,” Seth said. He handed me an empty canvas grocery bag. “We should probably fill a couple

of these.

I took the bag with a sick, twisting feeling. “We’re not going to make it back for afternoon classes,

are we?”

“I’m in the hospital, remember?” Seth shot me a roguish grin. “And my good friend, Braedyn, is

keeping me company. You should probably call Lucas. We don’t want him freaking your dad out

again.”

“Right,” I said. But I hesitated before reaching for my phone. This was very different from just not

telling Lucas what was up. This was deliberately misleading him. And I wasn’t sure if it was

something I wanted to do. But Seth was right, if he called my dad or Hale, things would get very

complicated, very fast. I fished my phone out of my pocket and dialed Lucas’s number.

Seth saw the movement and walked a little ways off, giving me some privacy.

Lucas picked up on the third ring. “You’re not at lunch,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation, just a

statement.

“No.”

“Is it Seth?” he asked.

“Yeah, it is,” I answered, glancing back at the skinny boy happily snapping yellow blossoms off

the plant behind me. “I’m with him right now.”

“Oh, man,” Lucas said. “I heard about what happened. Is he going to be okay?”

“I think so.”

“How about you? I heard about that other thing, too. You really went after Amber?”

“What? No!” For a moment, anger chased away my guilt. “She totally framed me. Who told you I

attacked her?”

“Royal and Cassie,” Lucas said, sounding confused. “They said they saw the whole thing.”

“Why would I attack Amber?” I asked. “I’d just be making her life easier if I got kicked out of

school.”

“Right.” But Lucas didn’t sound convinced. “So, are you going to stay at the hospital for the rest of

the day?”

“Um,” I took a deep breath, every part of me fighting the lie. “I think I’m going to stay with Seth

as long as he needs me.”

“You’re a good friend,” Lucas said, with real warmth in his voice. “I’ll ask Royal for a ride home.

Maybe he’ll actually let me drive this time.”

“Thanks,” I said, desperate to end this call, “I should probably get back to Seth.”

“Okay. Tell him hi from me? We’re all thinking about him.”

“Yeah.”

I hung up, taking a moment to settle my racing heart.
You didn’t technically lie to him,
I told

myself. And then another thought surfaced.
Great. Now I’m lying to myself.

Seth and I finished our harvest a little before school got out. I drove us home, then Seth and I

smuggled the bags of Chamisa blossoms into his room. He’d already set up a drying station in his

closet, but it’d take several more hours to hang all the blossoms up so they’d dry evenly.

“You should probably go to practice,” Seth said. “Keep up the routine.”

“You don’t need help with this stuff?” I asked.

“I’ve got it.” Seth shrugged. “I’m actually looking forward to the solitude.”

I studied his face for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay. You know where to find me if you need

anything.”

It felt good to throw myself into practice after the afternoon’s deception. The physical workout felt

like a penance. I fought hard, focused only on the next attack, the next defense.

At the end of our normal training session, Lucas sat down and Gretchen and Matthew ringed me

for another round of two-on-one. While I wasn’t great at anticipating both attacks simultaneously,

there was one moment when I was blocking Gretchen’s frontal attack that I almost
sensed
Matthew

behind me. Instinctively I dropped, dodging the blow before it landed. In the next breath, I swept out

my leg, catching Matthew behind the knees and knocking his legs out from under him.

“Nice work, Braedyn,” Hale called from the stairs. He was grinning. “I can’t think of a better way

to end a session.”

“I think we’re starting to see some progress,” Gretchen said, offering a hand to help Matthew up

off the floor mat.

“Thanks.” I flashed them a brief smile, then picked up my water, draining it. My muscles felt hot,

but loose, relaxed. Except for the tender spots—reminders of what happens when I don’t move fast

enough to block a punch—I felt remarkably good.

Until Lucas cornered me.

“Is everything all right?” He kept his voice low and neutral, to avoid drawing the attention of Hale

and Gretchen, talking a few yards away.

“Yeah, why?” I tried to make my voice nonchalant.

Lucas gave me a strange look. “You don’t normally train like your life depended on beating the

crap out of my sister-in-law.”

“What?” I glanced over at Gretchen and saw her rubbing at her shoulder, wincing. “I didn’t mean

to hurt her.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I mean,” Lucas said. “It was like your mind was a thousand miles away,

and all that was left was this robot-girl hammering out punches.” Lucas dropped his voice even lower.

“Is it Seth?”

“No,” I said, not thinking.

“But something’s bugging you.” Lucas scrutinized me shrewdly.

“Lucas.” I faced him full on. “Do you trust me?”

Lucas glanced at Hale for the briefest moment before answering. “Of course I do.”

“Then
trust
me.”

He gave me a smile, and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry. My radar must be off or something.”

BOOK: Incubus
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ads

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