Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (23 page)

I opened my eyes, gasping for air, teetering on the edge of hyperventilating. But as soon as I looked around our room—Derick sleeping on his stomach next to me, the fan gently swooshing overhead, the moonlight peeking through the blinds—I realized I was only dreaming.

I wouldn’t go back to sleep any time soon, though. The warmth in my chest from earlier spread to my toes and fingers and made it impossible to stay in bed next to Derick. Sweat was not my friend.

Neither was restlessness.

I slid the covers off and escaped the bed with only a slight groan of the mattress. I had to know more about us. We couldn’t find anything last night while searching together, but maybe now, after having
some
sleep, I’d find something.

What if we
were
dying? What if we were having premonitions? What if, what if, what if?

The hall was dark and annoyingly comfortable, as almost everything seemed to be since the incident on the beach—minus my nerves
about
being so relaxed. The sound of the news drifted from the TV; we’d left it on for background noise, but now I didn’t feel as though I needed the distraction.

History of Kalós
sat on the coffee table, taunting me with its thickness, just daring me to find something useful. Curling up on the sofa, I set the book in my lap and rubbed the aged cover—and felt something I hadn’t noticed before, something raised under the title. I turned on the side table lamp and inspected the book closer, then noticed an embossed symbol barely visible from years of use, like the worn title on a family Bible passed down through generations and generations. The symbol interconnected; there was no beginning and no end, each of the five points almost triangular, with a circle linked through them. Since the embossed design decorated the front of the book, I could only imagine this represented Kalós.

“What secrets do you hold?” I whispered. “Why are you so important? What are we supposed to do to get back to a normal life?”

If the book answered, my next words would have been: Dr. Pavarti.

I didn’t know where to start or what to look for. There probably wasn’t a section marked Tingly Feelings. Derick’s earlier plan kind of made sense, and dropping the book
kind
of worked, but we needed to know so much that any page we looked at would help.

I opened the dust jacket and stared at the title. No regular book markings filled the beginning pages, no author name, no random numbers or copyright information, no publishing house. “Where should I start?”

Black letters and numbers faded onto the paper, written as if someone used a quill and ink, replacing
History of Kalós
with Page 2500.

What the hell? Could the book understand English?

I closed my eyes.
Please don’t answer. Please don’t answer
.

Getting my wits about me, I flipped to 2500 and then read the header and the fine print under it: Brendan Doran, Guardian Elder 1994-1995, Deceased, Survived by his only daughter Abigail.

My heart pounded wildly, and breathing—well, I couldn’t breathe. How come Mr. Crawford didn’t tell me the book responded to questions? Why would they leave us to accidentally figure out vital pieces of such a large and important puzzle?

Running my finger over the words, I took a deep breath and read them aloud, “Survived by his only daughter
Abigail
.”

Derick and I skipped over this section too fast before. We looked for current Elders, read about current problems. He assumed I was the Elder’s heir mentioned, but not that I was the Elder’s
child
.

A symbol sat next to my dad’s name: the same rounded triangle, loops crisscrossed but never breaking through each other, cut through with a circle; the exact symbol as on the cover. I couldn’t find a key explaining what this symbol meant, so I skimmed through other Elders, prior to Aedan—who had only the top part of the triangle next to his name—and found the same image on each one of them. Every Elder before Aedan was a Guardian, so the symbol must belong to them, not the entire plane as I’d thought earlier.

I read farther down the page, soaking up as much about my birth father as possible. “Betrayed the Guardians by marrying a Cognizant. But their union served as first step in redeeming the Guardians in the eyes of the people.”

Redeeming
? What did they do?

The book didn’t reveal any other page for me to turn to—
figures
—so I continued.

“Brendan and Marla conceived their daughter shortly after Elder elections. Guardian blood had never been mixed; everyone worried about the outcome for the child and what the new pairing would mean for her powers. Once the child was born and Brendan held her, he felt the powers within her were whole. He crowned her his greatest achievement.”

Huh
. None of what I read felt real, or made much sense. My parents’ names were Joseph and Rebecca, and they lived in Virginia. My dad drove a pick-up truck, and my mom commuted to DC in a small sedan. They didn’t travel through planes—or keep planes locked. Hell, we didn’t even lock our doors. I couldn’t fathom being adopted, having another person I could call Mom or Dad. Would I even want that?

I glanced at the TV and saw my face flash on the screen, the little headline blinking “losing hope”.

My poor parents.
They know Derick’s keeping me safe.

I could at least take comfort from that.

I clicked the buttons on the remote, but increasing the volume turned out to be a bad idea. “Witnesses claim they saw the Virginia teens in a parking lot outside Jacksonville. Investigators are following more leads in the area.”

Stupid TV. I didn’t need to watch it. I needed to read.

Squinting at the thin pages, I continued, “Brendan’s longtime friend Aedan Mordha complained that human wars ravaged his homelands, and he requested access to Earth to put a stop to the fighting. But Brendan knew Aedan was desperate after losing his family, and a Kalóan would go far when desperate.”

So my dad’s rejection as Guardian Elder caused a rift between him and Aedan.
Nice
.

“Aedan threatened to hunt down and kill every Guardian until someone opened the door.”

That explained the ‘good authority’ comment Mr. Crawford made about Brendan transplanting Guardians.

“Brendan evacuated those in danger, including his daughter. Battle loomed, and he had to maintain the Order of the Guardian’s secret. That secret held the key to protecting the planes, a key no one but a Guardian could gain access to. As long as his race was away from that information and safe outside Kalós, humans would remain safe from Aedan.”

Well, that’s nice. A secret. As long as that secret was there and not here, Derick and I would be safe, like he said. We’d just have to get rid of Boredas and Ruckus.

“Thank you, book. That was enlightening.” I cringed, realizing I was once again speaking to an inanimate object, further giving me reason to call Dr. Pavarti.

Compliments of Mr. Crawford, I knew my
dad
—Brendan—sent servants to protect the Guardians here—or that he sent people to protect me. But he must not have known about my kidnappers, because they weren’t mentioned. I skimmed farther down the page, trying to skip over any details of my parents’ death. “After murdering the Elder and his wife—and the planes remained closed—Aedan’s desperation turned to cold-hearted insanity. He waged battle against not only good—”

That’s it. I can’t read any more about this. “Tell me something else I
need
to know. What’s the secret, and how do I find it?”

All the words faded from the page, and new ink appeared, new, sprawling, had-to-be-made-up-in-my-head ink. I yawned, my body finally tired again. But going to sleep wasn’t an option now; I still had to find answers about whatever Derick and I felt in our chests.

The symbol of the Guardian took up the first half of the new page, and this time a deep-burgundy color filled the free space around the points of the star and within the circle.

“Guardians are the most trusted of the Maker’s servants, blessed with the strongest power to protect humans, and are all descendants of the Original: the spirit of a human who was known for never losing a battle.”

We’re the mysterious Maker’s best. I got enough of that from Mr. Crawford. Being all-powerful wasn’t exactly in my life plans though. Life plans weren’t even in my life plans, not anymore. Could I even return to normal after this?

I shook my head, jolting my straying thoughts back to the book. “Guardians morphed into a group of purists clouded in their judgment of what humans need. They lost sight of when to stop wars, when to aid with health and repair natural…”

My eyes were too heavy to keep open. I wanted information that would explain the Guardian’s
secret
—not Guardians—information that would explain what Derick and I felt on the beach earlier—not about my heritage. Well, I wanted that, but not at—I glanced at the clock—3:00 a.m.

Wow.

A chill ran up my legs. Suddenly being warm next to Derick didn’t sound so bad, but since the book was in a sharing mood tonight, I had to ask one more question. “What did I feel in my chest earlier?”

Kalóan Relationships appeared on the page. “You better be in a sharing mood tomorrow, or Derick will never believe this.”

“There are many forms of love: some are fleeting, some blossom and stay around for a time, and some are meant to last forever, sustaining the natural ups and downs of maturing minds. Strong emotions draw a youth’s secondary powers to the surface. These emotions will also remove the veil of secrecy if living on the human plane, making the youth’s essence traceable (See: Living Off-Plane). Parents should offer guidance and explain the differences between longevity and lust.”

Yeah, tell
that
to every parent on the planet. If Mom and Dad read this, they’d laugh and say ‘love isn’t real until you’re finished with college, have traveled the world, and have a job’—or something along those lines.

“Commitment will strengthen their bond and tether their essence. Each time the relationship is tested and they prove themselves worthy of each other’s love, they will share powers, and their light will increase. This is something the youth feel and should be proud of.”

Wow. Tethering and increasing light and feelings.
Is this book telling me I’m committed to Derick… for life
?

“Once the transformation from youth to adult is complete, a period of nine years from age twelve to twenty-one, the youth’s essence could potentially be tethered to many, weakening inherent powers and giving way to a host of varying abilities.”

My chest tightened. The world seemed stacked against us. We had proof we were in the right place—the Safe Zone served as the best indicator for that—but the paragraph I read could explain why Derick’s family moved to Virginia around our pre-teen years, putting weight on Mr. Snellings’s disgusting comment about breeding. This paragraph could also explain why my dad didn’t want me around Derick: if we fell in love, anyone could find me because my essence would grow brighter—never mind the commitment thing.

Why couldn’t we just be two teens who loved each other, teens who dated without worrying about otherworldly secrets and merging powers?

This book sucked.

I’d rather have discovered the truth about myself from my parents, at least what they knew of it, if I could even trust them—or anyone.

Mr. Crawford might have created this Safe Zone just so I could be with his son. God, it’s possible that
Derick
knew about this.

No. He couldn’t. Of all the people in this world I trusted, I trusted him the most. I had to tell him about the Guardians and the relationships and the secret.

I set the book on the table, then headed down the hall.

Thump
.

I froze mid-step. “I did
not
just hear the book fall.”

The mattress squeaked, and Derick sat up and blinked a few times. “Abby? What are you doing?”

Glancing back, I battled with an urge to flee the condo or run to Derick. Neither involved reading some stupid book that was surely communicating with my PTSD’d mind.

“Abigail Nichols, why are you standing in the hall?” Derick asked, sliding his warm arms around my waist. “You’re trembling. What happened?”

“The book… it… helped me figure out some things.”

He held me at arm’s length, frowning. “What kind of things?”

“No. The book, like the
book
showed me things when I asked it questions.” No psychiatrist would second-guess prescribing me drugs if he heard me speaking this way. A book cannot think, has no mouth, and cannot magically show people things. I knew this, but I couldn’t dispute what I saw. “I’m a Guardian, and in order to open the planes, I have to know some secret. And the tingly feelings, that’s because we’re in love and our essences are tethering to each other and our powers are mingling and—”

“How long have you been awake?”

“I’m not sure. Last time I looked at the clock was 3:00 a.m.”

Derick took my hand and dragged me toward the sofa, but one glance at the table made me stop and nearly pull away from him.

The book lay open, and words scrawled across the page:
Don’t ever tell anyone about the secret again, Abigail Nichols
.

Tears fell from my eyes, and I wanted to go home, to have my mom hold me, to have my dad protect me. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

Derick looked at the TV and then nodded. “Are you sure you weren’t dreaming? It’s been three hours since you last noticed the time.”

I stared at him. Dreaming. Dreaming would be nice. I would prefer that over lying to the only person I could trust, but I didn’t believe it. That would be too easy. “Maybe you’re right.”