Haunted Waters, page 2
“Hey, Kins, you’re coming to the tournament, right?” he asked, a little winded.
Emma scoffed. “Golf? We have research to do.”
Noah looked at me, and I sighed. “Sorry, we have plans for the library today.” I spotted Walker out on the lake. He was only a tiny dot on the water. Noah must have noticed my change of expression, and he looked over his shoulder. He stared at Walker for a moment, and then glanced down to the ground, defeated.
“What’s more important than the golf tournament? They have alcohol . . . and Sampson says he knows a girl who works the cart. We can buy beer from her. And Mason is going to bring some mixed drinks in his thermos.”
“I’m sure you guys will have a blast, but—”
“There are celebrities there!” Noah continued, as he checked over his shoulder again.
“Oh my god, do you mean Parker Shallon?” Emma asked.
“Who’s Parker Shallon?” I should have known by her expression that it didn’t matter who Parker Shallon was. I’d probably never heard of the guy.
“He’s the childhood actor from that show with the fence. You know, they were always meeting in the backyard? And the fence covered that guy’s face?” Emma covered her face with her coffee mug, and I laughed.
“Oh yeah, that guy. He’s the celebrity this year?” I asked.
Noah clenched his jaw. He’d lost the argument, and he appeared ready to concede defeat. He looked over his shoulder again, and I followed his gaze. Walker was paddling into the cove. A swarm of butterflies erupted in my stomach, but I tried not to let it show on my face.
“They have golf carts. You can be our caddie, and I’ll let you drive,” Noah said.
Emma looked between us and tapped her foot. “You realize she has a golf cart in the garage, right?” Noah glanced behind him again, and I widened my eyes at Emma.
He was trying awfully hard to get me to join him today, and I was starting to feel bad. “Look, we need to figure out this whole dream thing. If we can understand it, we can control it. And then we can do whatever we want.” I shrugged, making it sound simpler than it was.
Noah took some practice swings as Walker climbed the hill to the cabin. “Like what?” he asked.
“I don’t know, Noah, like win a golf tournament. Wouldn’t you like that?” He glared at me, silently reminding me that there was something else he wanted. If only he had a choice. My eyes flickered to Walker, and I smiled.
“Morning,” Walker said. Noah took a swing—a warning shot. “Nice swing you’ve got there. Try twisting at the hips, you’ll get a better follow through.” Walker swiveled his hips in demonstration, and my brows shot sky high. Noah’s face turned red with fury. Emma’s was red for an entirely different reason.
“D-did you used to play?” Emma stuttered.
“A little when I was a kid. My uncle used to take me to lessons.” Walker smiled up at me, and his dimples cast shadows on his cheeks. A small hum escaped my throat, and Noah shot me a deadly glare.
The air thickened with enough tension to attract a curious bee. It buzzed by, taking multiple passes. Noah swatted at it mindlessly as he tried to talk up Parker Shallon. The rest of the guys climbed the hill to join us. My back stiffened when I saw the bee fly toward Walker, but before I could say anything at all, it flew straight through him. My breath hitched in my chest. The bee had flown through him, as if he was made of air . . . Maybe he was?
I watched Walker’s expression closely. He hadn’t noticed the bee penetrate his chest and pierce through the other side, and neither had anyone else. It reminded me just how different Walker was than the rest of us, and I wondered if he was invincible here in Baylor.
“Kins?” Kai asked.
“Huh?” Everybody was looking at me. Waiting for something.
“She was the weather girl on channel five. She was the celebrity in the tournament a few years back . . .” I looked at Kai blankly as his words trailed off. “Her name. Do you remember her name?” Kai laughed, shaking his head.
“Oh! Um, Shelly Trot,” I said. Kai snapped his fingers, and everybody agreed.
“I wish Trot was going to be there instead of Parker Shallon.” Mason suddenly recoiled, swatting at the bee.
“Oh, shit!” Asher jumped sideways. We laughed at him as he ran, belly first, across the lawn. He waved his hands aimlessly through the air, making us laugh even harder.
The kitchen window slid open, and Kimber yelled out, “Run!” without an ounce of humor in her tone.
“Oh, yeah, isn’t he allergic?” Mason asked.
Asher tripped and rolled down the hill, causing the laughter to stop. “Like how allergic?” Noah asked.
“Deathly allergic!” Kimber yelled from the window. I froze in place, unable to think of a way to help. Asher scrambled to his feet, kicking up tufts of grass in his wake, and charged for the cabin.
“Hurry!” Emma waved him on.
Asher took the steps three at a time; the bee was mere inches from his back. I swatted at the air, trying to fight the beast off, but it was no good. At the exact moment that Asher reached for the door, Kimber barged through from the other side brandishing an EpiPen. The door slammed into Asher, pushing him backward into the bee.
We held our breaths and watched helplessly as Asher gathered his wits. At first, we didn’t know if he’d been stung or if he was simply stunned from the blow to his head. He stood, eyes wide and blinking rapidly. I couldn’t see or hear the bee any longer.
Everyone looked at one another uncertainly until Asher made a small, scratchy sound in his throat. Kimber pulled the cap off the EpiPen and dropped to her knees. She raised her arm and thrust the needle into Asher’s thigh. I gasped. Emma dropped her coffee, splashing it on everybody near her and shattering one of my homemade ceramic mugs. Gunner barked with excitement.
Mason and Kai grabbed Asher and carried him inside. Kimber dropped the pen, fell to her butt, and started to cry. I kneeled down next to her and stroked her shoulder. “You were so brave, Kimber. How did you know how to do that?”
“His mom taught me. She tells me all the time where he keeps the pen. We practiced together one night when she was drunk. She accidentally injected her sofa,” she sobbed.
Walker squeezed my shoulder as he passed by. He went into the cabin to check on Asher, and Emma busied herself picking up broken pieces of ceramic from the deck. “I don’t want him to die. Kinsley, I don’t want him to die!”
“Nobody is going to die.” It wasn’t until the words left my mouth that I realized just how foolish a statement that was. Somewhere inside, there was a calendar that showed precisely how many more of us would die this summer. Eight. Eight of us would. And the probability that one of those eight was Asher was pretty high.
“That’s not true. You know that’s not true,” she said.
I ran my hands through my hair, trying to think of something else I could say to help calm her, but there was nothing.
“Look, maybe we can learn how to bring him back?” Emma said, hopefully.
“What?” I shot Emma a look. Not only was that doubtful, but it wasn’t something I wanted to try. I’d seen movies before about raising the dead—it never ended well.
“Can you do that, Kinsley? Can you bring him back? Because I can’t live without him.” Kimber’s eyes glistened a pale, sky-blue.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
“Can you?” she asked again, dipping her chin and giving me doe eyes.
I was about to lie when Walker opened the patio door, bumping into my back. “Sorry,” he said, looking down at me. My stomach dropped in preparation for the news.
Walker lifted his gaze to Kimber. “He’s okay. We couldn’t find the stinger, and no sign of swelling—” Kimber scrambled to her feet and blew past Walker mid-sentence.
“He wasn’t even stung?” Emma asked.
“Looks like it was a false alarm,” Walker said, shrugging. Emma looked at me in surprise, my labor of love broken in her hand. She went inside to see for herself, and I sat on the floor, deep in thought.
Had I saved him? Just by thinking about it? There was no way of telling if it was luck or magic, but if I had a choice, I’d say magic.
“What are you thinking?” Walker asked, no longer hiding his concern. His face reflected the same confusion and worry I felt.
“I don’t know. I think, I think maybe I reversed it.”
“Do you think he was stung?” Walker asked.
“Yes, and then because I was worried for him, I changed the outcome so that he wasn’t allergic?” It was a stretch. Walker’s lips twitched. I could tell he didn’t think I was ready to pull off that kind of magic. And truthfully, he was probably right.
“Well, whatever it was, we need to work on it. If you had full capability and total control of your dreamwork, you could have extinguished that bee the second it came around. Hell, you could make bees extinct, if you wanted.” Walker scratched the back of his head, and I could tell he was imagining the possibilities.
“Do you really think so?” I asked. A world without stingers sounded like a nice touch.
“I really do, Wilde. I really do.” Walker’s eyes burrowed into mine, and I could feel that he was being honest with me. He believed in me.
I smiled, feeling the heat across my cheeks. “Then let’s get to it,” I said, reaching my hands out. Walker grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet. While standing, our bodies touched, and we were closer than just friends should be, but he didn’t seem to mind. It felt natural. We were more than friends, after all. No, we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but we weren’t just simple friends either. There was something between us. Something bigger than life, and even he couldn’t deny it. I planned to whittle it away until there was nothing left except the bare truth.
Walker pushed open the door to the cabin, and I followed him inside. Asher looked perfectly fine. His face was red, but I imagined that was because of embarrassment more than anything else. “Are you feeling okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Everything except my thigh,” Asher said, glaring at Kimber and rubbing his leg.
“What? I was trying to save your life!” Kimber argued.
“You stabbed me! I wasn’t even stung!” he said in a high-pitched voice.
“How was I supposed to know that?” Kimber raised her hands and turned away, shoulders hunched.
“Listen, we’d better get going or we’re going to be late for the tournament. Kins, you’re coming with us, right?” Noah asked, nodding as if it was a done deal.
I jutted my head back; did he really think I was going with them? I had already told him I wasn’t. Walker looked at me questioningly, and I frowned. “No. I said we were going to the library. We’re doing research.” My tone was quick and cutting, and Noah’s cheeks flushed under my scorn.
“Okay, okay. Sorry. I thought you told me you were going to go.” He shook his head and looked at the floor. I knew what he was trying to do, but I wasn’t giving in. It aggravated me that he was being so pushy. He didn’t like Walker one bit. And that was going to be a problem.
Kimber and Asher stayed back in the cabin. As much as Asher would deny it, I think he was more rattled than he let on. His hands were shaky, and he looked sick to his stomach. The others headed off to the golf tournament, and I knew they would have fun. A piece of me was jealous. I wanted to go, but I knew my work at the library was far more important. When all this was over, and I was the master of my destiny, I could make everyday Celebrity Golf Tournament day if I wanted. For today, Emma, Walker, and I headed out to the library. It was a nice day, so we walked the mile and a half into town.
CHAPTER 3
While our walk had started out pleasant enough, it had warmed significantly by the time we were halfway to the library. The nape of my neck was hot and sticky, so I pulled my hair back into a bun with the elastic I carried on my wrist. We talked about how bizarre it was that Asher hadn’t been stung and all the ways it could have ended, but hadn’t. Emma was convinced that he was going into shock from the trauma, and I thought I’d seen signs of that too. But Walker said that it was just the Baylor phenomenon. That I wouldn’t have been able to reverse a moment in time without proper training.
“Do you think she will be able to time travel?” Emma asked, using one hand to shade her eyes from the sun.
“I think that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I think this thing is massive. We have no idea what she is capable of, or how quickly she’ll learn. From blowing out candles with her mind, to bringing back the dead . . .” Walker’s words sent a chill down my hot spine. Goosebumps prickled my arms despite the heat of the day.
He looked up at the sky and frowned. I followed his gaze to see an enormous black crow circling above. Levi. By the look on Walker’s face, he’d known there was something peculiar about the bird, but he didn’t say anything. It made me wonder about all the times we had shared before. How much had I missed? And how much had he hidden from me?
“Bring back . . . the dead? As in, Lainey?” Emma asked. It was a nice idea, of course, but it only reminded us she wasn’t here to begin with, and the sadness seemed to hit both of us again.
“Maybe,” Walker said.
Emma glanced at the bird and her breathing deepened. “And Levi?” she asked, in a small, faraway voice.
“Maybe.”
The crow cawed above, and I wondered how long he’d been following us. I wondered if was possible for me to bring Lainey back? And Levi? But what kind of person would that make me? Would I be dark? Would I be evil? Or would that make me a goddess?
“And what about you? Could she bring you back?” Emma asked.
My heart froze in my chest. It stopped beating completely and then sputtered, kicking back into rhythm. I bent at the waist, coughing, and Walker patted my back.
What about him? I wondered. Could I bring him back? Was it possible? He’d been a ghost for so long. Was there an expiration on this type of magic? I cocked my head to see Walker’s expression, and it alarmed me. He wasn’t in shock like I was—he’d thought about this before. His jaw was set firm and square, and his eyes narrowed into tiny slants. Had this been his plan all along?
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, slapping my chest. But Emma’s question went unanswered as we reached the library.
“After you,” Walker said, holding the door open.
Emma smiled and dipped under his arm, seeming to forget all about her question. But my thoughts were a jumbled mess. I couldn’t stop thinking about that bird stalking us and the idea of raising the dead. I paused, passing Walker, staring him in the eyes. It seemed he’d had big plans all along. Ideas that he’d never shared. He’d said he wanted to train me, but what for? I wasn’t sure. His golden eyes told no secrets. I bit my bottom lip and entered the library. Walker’s gaze was hotter than the sun could ever be, and passing him in the doorway was like jumping through a ring of fire. I was thankful for the cool air conditioning.
The library was small but rich in literature. What it lacked in size was made up for by the cozy ambiance. It was an old historical library, and it had been here for as long as I could remember—apart from the fact that it had recently moved itself down the street. Regardless, it had all the classics. But perhaps the best part was the smell. The smell of the books, worn thin and well loved. I’d never been a reader, but that didn’t stop me from wishing I were. I’d always wanted to lose myself in a good story, the way my gran did—the way Emma does. Instead, I lost myself in the depths of my twisted subconscious. Oh how I wished I could dog-ear the page and close the book on my mind when I grew weary and tired.
Emma’s eyes beamed, all but forgetting the crow in the sky and how somber she’d felt just moments ago. “Do you mind if I—”
“No. Go for it.” It’s not like Emma would be able to concentrate until she checked out whatever book was on her mind, anyway. She’d been trying to get through the library’s fantasy section over the summer, and she had made a sizable dent already. Emma scampered off to the back of the library, disappearing into the aisles of books. Walker took my hand and led me to the small section of personal development books. I picked through them, frowning at the titles and feeling like I was broken and in need of self-help. I turned to glare at Walker, but he was oblivious to my concerns.
“I’ve heard of this book; it teaches you how to become lucid in your dreams. There’s technique involved, stuff I don’t know yet. Probably stuff I can’t find online. These books are ancient, and there is information here that you can’t find anywhere else. Trust me, I’ve tried.” Walker glanced at me and flinched. “What’s wrong?”
“The self-help section. Really?”
“No, it’s not like that . . .”
“Oh, yeah?” I held up a book titled How to Be Everything You’re Not.
Walker rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the shelf, running his fingers down the spines of the books. “It’s not here. That can’t be right.”
“Are you sure they had it?” I asked, stuffing the book I probably should have checked out back on the shelf.
“Positive. I called before we came.” Walker looked frantically through the bookshelf.
“Well, maybe we can just start with another one?”
“We can’t start with another one. That is the only one. It’s called Waking Dreams, and it is the only book here about dreams and the first one ever written on the topic.” Walker crouched down, checking the books at knee level.
“I’ll go check with the librarian. Maybe she pulled it, expecting you to come?” I asked.
“Okay. Good thinking. I’m just going to poke around here. In case it was put back out of place.”
I turned around slowly and went in search of the librarian. But when I got to the checkout counter, she wasn’t there. As I waited, idly drumming my fingers on the counter, I let my eyes wander around the little library until they landed on a girl drawn into a book at a small desk against the back wall. I hadn’t seen her when we’d come in. She had lush dark hair that draped in front of her face as she read. Nobody has hair that pretty . . . except . . .
