The Fake Heart (Time Alchemist Series) (3 page)

This had to be a dream, right? I mean, people just couldn’t create things out of thin air! That only happened in movies! I was sitting there, waiting for some director to pop up out of nowhere and yell “Cut!” or see what else they could pull out of their sleeves. What next, a rabbit out of a hat? That had large fangs and dripped poison?!

But the ear piercing shrieks of sharp metal against metal snapped me out of my dazed thoughts. This wasn’t some scene in a movie or a magic trick. Judging from their faces—full of rage and fury—this was real. This was one hundred percent
real
.

These two were seriously trying to kill each other.

“
W
h
-
What should I do
?” my voice barely even a whisper as I watched the fight. It was like being the witness to a car accident—it was too gruesome to watch but you couldn’t pull your eyes away, and you didn’t want to help but at the same time you
had
to, even if you messed everything up. M
y knees were like
jello
; and I mentally cursed at both being stupid and being the only student on campus to not have a phone so I could at least call for help! I gripped the cold edges of my Grandmother’s bracelet, rubbing
my thumb over
the ruby red stone in an effort to calm down.

A sickening
CRACK
vibrated through the air, sending my heart flying through my chest
when the boy’s weapon glowed
a bright
silver, and, as if being pulled by a fisherman’s string, the
girl went airborne
. I let out a choked scream as the girl flew through the cavernous hole in the fence, barely grazing the sharp edges of the once fence posts, and smacked straight into the neighboring tree.

She landed with a weighty thud on the grass right next to me, slumped over like the dead. A trickle of blood fell from her mouth, and the sword she clutched in her hand suddenly disappeared in a flash—a pool of red liquid in its place, coating her hand and clothes and the now brown grass.

The heavy, coppery smell made my stomach churn. I slapped my hands against my mouth, forcing the rising bile to go back down. Tears, I wasn’t sure from the overwhelming smell of blood or the fact that I was scared shitless, started to leak out, running down my pale cheeks. The makeup I had spent half an hour perfected and the hair that I painstakingly brushed neatly in place was ruined now, but that seemed the least of my problems.

A tree branch snapped. I stiffened, heart hammering like a drum.

The footsteps, muffled by the grass, came closer. I couldn’t see him, but the boy was panting heavily, as if that one blow had taken all his energy. I prayed for him to go away, hoping that he was too tired to finish whatever this whole thing was. Every step
made my heart flutter
faster. I started to hyperventilate. I couldn’t breathe—the air was suddenly too thick and heavy and hot. Black spots started flashing in f
ront of me, and the world began to spin
.

The girl coughed roughly, sucking in a breath.
The footsteps stopped.

If he had taken one or two more steps, he probably would have spotted me camouflaged by the moss and leaves. I held my breath, praying he couldn’t hear how loud my heart was beating against my tight chest.

I saw
the tip of his blood-tinted sword
as he pointed the edge against the girl’s neck. “You shouldn’t have done this, Dove. None of this would have happened if you had just listened to me…” A pause…then a chocked sob left the boy’s throat. Was he
crying?

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.” The girl’s voice came out ragged, as if she were choking on air. Her eyes never opened…as if she were preparing for her loss in this battle.

“
I don’t want to kill you. Not ever. But I have to stop you. Even for just a little longer.”

A faint grin played on her lips, and in the golden light she looked like a wounded—but prideful—angel giving herself to fate. “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

He retra
cted
his
sword
, raising it back as far as he could. The
n, in the very next heartbeat,
girl’s eyes fluttered open, and those cold blue eyes locked on mine.

I don’t know why I did it. Even now I haven’t the slightest idea what possessed me to do it, but I had done it.

I leapt from my hiding place and jumped in front of the girl, arms spread out.
“
STOP
!”
I tried to scream some sort of warning to him—but it was too late.

With one quick movement, the boy thrust his
black blade
towards his intended target—but it went right through the
heart
of an unbeknownst and sudden obstacle.

Me.

The look of pure horror on the guys face would never leave my mind. His bluish green eyes, as deep as the sea, swirled with waves and waves of hundreds of different emotions. I was almost sad that his eyes, though mesmerizing, would be the last thing I see.

Somehow, someway, the impact had knocked my band loose from my wrist. Maybe it was from me wringing it over and over on my wrist, causing the band to loosen or slide off. Or maybe it was just the sudden impact of the sword hitting my chest with such force it sent my body back to swiftly it just…fell off. I was vaguely aware, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Grandmother’s red gem sparkle in the sunlight. As though it was trying to assure me everything was going to be okay.

I felt a flash of horrible, horrible white hot pain and saw red.

And then the crimson soaked world went still, black…and dead.

CHAPTER 3

I gasped, sucking in cold. It felt as if I had been slammed into the ground; the impact jarring my bones and stretching my muscles, making my skin hot and irritable. My chest…god, it hurt so much, like…my heart was three sizes too big; like cramming a square block into a
round hole
. I felt like it was pumping, pumping, pumping,
ready
to explode—

Blindly, I reached out to grasp my Grandmother’s bracelet, but met with the bare skin of my wrist and the soft edge of my dress shirt. I grappled around; panic suddenly filling me as I tried to find where my bracelet had gone. Was it still on the night table? Did I drop it somewhere? Or—

A big, warm hand enveloped my own. I could feel my breathing slow down and I opened my eyes, wincing at the bright overhead lights. The pounding in my he
ad wouldn’t subside. A low groan
escaped from my mouth as I tried to sit up; all I could do was rest on my elbows before I nearly collapsed back into the so
ft covers, until someone’s
hand placed itself in the middle of my back, helping me into a full sitting position.

“Are you okay?” a voice next to me sent me jumping. My head whipped to the side, my eyes instantly connecting with eyes like the sea; fear seeped through me—

Oh,
no. Wait. His eyes weren’t deep green
; they were a warm, coal gray as he looked at me with concern spread all over his face. “Hey, are you okay?” His voice was thick and warm, with a slight southern drawl. It made me flush.

“I, uh, yeah, I…am.
” I stammered. I couldn’t suppress that shiver that glided down my spine; both from this handsome stranger’s touch and that flash of…memory?
Dream?
For a split second I thought I had saw
him
and—

A wave of panic slammed into me and I struggled for breath, remembering what had happened. The two people fighting, all of those weapons materializing out of nowhere, the girl unconscious against the tree and how bright and vivid and how sea green the boy’s eyes were as he had stabbed his sword through m—

“I’m
gonna
b-be sick,” I mumbled, trying to untangle myself from the white sheets. “W-Where’s the—”

“Uh, wait, shouldn’t you—”

Somehow I had wretched myself from the boy’s grasp, nearly toppling onto the floor
as I reached a door, and rushed
into it.
Hard.
My shoulder exploded with pain but the threatening bile that was about come out was forced away from the physical pain as I ran down the hallway.

My feet slapped against the checkered floor and I realized I was in a building—probably the administrative building? I wasn’t sure. How did I get here anyway? My breath hitched in my throat, and I pressed my hands harder against my mouth, fighting to urge to relieve my stomach contents all over the black-and-white checker patterned floors.

Finally, I spotted the sign to the girl’s restroom. With a strangled noise of relief I burst in, a wave of nauseating sweet potpourri and lemon cleaner filled my senses and I ran into the nearest stall, dry heaving the chocolate chip banana breakfast muffin and orange juice I munched on this morning.

“Ugh…” I leaned over the porcelain bowl, gagging at the disgusting taste lingering in my mouth. My chest physically hurt from the running and heaving. Burning tears started to spill and I found myself curled up on the bathroom floor
crying
from the pain. I clutched my chest, and then it hit me—
             

There wasn’t a wound on my body at all.

I shot to my feet, the lingering pain in my knees almost gave way but I grabbed at the edge of the stall door before I fell. I made my way over to the large mirror, (pausing just a moment to realize that my jacket and shoes were missing) and unbuttoned the white dress shirt to reveal…nothing.

No, not just
nothing.

There was no blood, no gushing wound, or stitches or gauze or anything on my chest.

But t
here was
a tattoo.

There, right over my heart, was a small tattoo of sorts the color of a dark yellow, almost a skin-like color so dark that it glowed against my pale white skin. When I shifted around, it shone in the light, but pretty much remained unnoticed. The tattoo was odd and beautiful, the shape of a small circle with strange markings on the inside…almost like…the face of an old fashioned grandfather clock.

I
traced the edges of the tattoo;
an aching throb in my chest hitting me like a pounding hail storm.

Was that all a dream? No…that was no dream. If it was, how could I explain this bizarre marking on my chest? It certainly wasn’t a birthmark; I think I would recall during my sixteen years of life of having a clock shaped tattoo right over my heart.

This had to have come from—no, it didn’t make sense. It
couldn’t.
I should be
dead.

Am
I dead?

I was stabbed right through the heart—I shouldn’t be alive. I shouldn’t have woken up in some random room with a guy (no matter how hot he was) hovering over me. Wouldn’t I be in the hospital?
Was
this a hospital? But the amount of overwhelming questions that spiraled around like a twister inside my puny mind couldn’t even compare to the one thought that was seared in my skull.

I should be
dead.

What the hell was going on?

Tick, tick, tick.

My ears perked up. I listened closer.

Again.
Tick, tick, tick.
The sound of…ticking.
A clock ticking.
It was very faint, yet it sounded close, so close I felt like I could
feel
the hands on this mysterious clock move…
inside
of me—

Someone hammered against the door with such force I thought it would break. The thundering jolted me out of my thoughts. Hastily, I buttoned my shirt back and tucked it in, but my hands felt unusually numb, like my body was just going through the motions. Nothing was making sense anymore.

“Hey! Are you okay?” someone yelled, and I recognized it from the boy who was waiting on me in the nurse’s room (at least, I assumed that it was the nurses’ office after my mind seemed to clear a little). With every knock on the door the pounding in my head and the aching in my chest grew worse.

I scuttled over and shoved the door open, almost knocking the poor guy to the ground. He stepped back, clearly surprised and raised his hands in surrender, like I had a gun pointing at him or something.

“Who are you?” I asked, thankful that my headache was starting to fade. But the pain in my chest was another story…“I mean, sorry to be so rude—”

The guy shrugged, “Nah, its okay. I’d be pretty freaked out it if some stranger tried to follow me into the bathroom.” He gave a pretty nervous smile, and I got a flash of his pearly whites. I stepped back a bit, letting the door swing close behind me, and took a good look at this supposed “stranger”: shaggy blonde hair that was matted to h
is forehead, sharp cheekbones,
nice sun-kissed tan, soft grey eyes like the underside of a cloud, and a simple red and black tracksuit that clung to his body like a second skin. Those were St. Mary’s school colors. He must be a St. Mary’s student…just like me.