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Twisted Magic (The Dhampyre Chronicles Book 2)
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Twisted Magic
The Dhampyre Chronicles
Book Two
Marissa Farrar
TABLE OF CONTENTS
*You can click on the title to be taken to the selection. Additionally, clicking on the chapter titles will bring you back to the table of contents.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by the Author
Copyright Information
Chapter
1
“See you later, Beth,” Laurel said to me as we exited the coffee shop downtown, a waft of ground coffee beans following us.
Melissa nudged her in the ribs. “Well, if she can separate herself from lover boy for long enough.”
I rolled my eyes at my friends’ good-natured teasing. “I said I’d be there, so I’ll be there.”
Laurel lifted her eyebrows behind her wire frame glasses. “Without your new appendage?”
“Yeah, I promise,” I said, laughing. “Girls’ night only.”
Melissa nodded approvingly and hooked her arm through Laurel’s. “Good to hear it. Not that we don’t love Riley, but it’s great to see you on your own occasionally, too.”
“Hey, haven’t we just had coffee, and I was on my own?”
“Only because it’s four in the afternoon and Riley is working. Otherwise, you two are joined at the hip.”
Laurel was right. Riley and I were almost inseparable. Only when I had lectures and he had to work did we go our separate ways. I still forced myself to spend the occasional night in my shared dorm room with Brooke, but why would I want to be there when I could be curled up in Riley’s arms?
He’d moved his trailer from the fairground onto farmland on the outskirts of town. The farmer was allowing him to stay, and had even hooked him up to some juice. In return, Riley worked on the farm, mostly taking care of the farm equipment and machinery. I’d felt horrible when the carnies had all departed and left Riley behind. He’d said an emotional farewell to a couple of them, but most of the carnies had noticed how Riley had sided with me and were suspicious about the circumstances in which their leader, Bulldog Mackenzie, had vanished. Though no one directly accused Riley of having anything to do with it, his association with me made him tainted goods in their mind. When he’d announced his intentions to stay in Sage Springs, the other carnies all but washed their hands of him. He insisted it had been his choice to stay and he wouldn’t have wanted to go anywhere without me, but sometimes I caught him staring into the distance, and I knew he was imagining being back on the road with all his friends again. This twisted something deep inside of me. I was all for the peaceful life, but I couldn’t help feeling that Riley needed something more.
“I promise I’ll come on my own tonight,” I told my friends, though secretly I knew they were right. I would always rather be with Riley. “It’s a special day, right?”
“Dana is turning twenty, and that’s a big deal in a witch’s life,” said Laurel. “Her powers could end up stronger than any of ours put together.”
“I still don’t see why Riley and Flynn can’t be there. They’re kind of ...” I struggled for the word, “witchy, too.”
I’d discovered both Flynn and Riley were elementals, human, but able to control whichever particular element they were most spiritually connected to. For Flynn, it was water, which gave him a certain advantage during his swim meets, and for Riley it was air. This had helped him while performing his motorcycle tricks at the fairground, using the force of the air to hold him up while he spun around the wheel of death as though defying gravity, but it wasn’t a benefit he was finding any use for at the moment. I couldn’t help but feel that with the departure of the fairground, Riley had lost his way in the world.
Melissa pouted. “And they’re men. Men don’t get to be involved in this kind of thing.”
“But what about me?” I asked. “I’m not even a witch.”
“No, but you’re not totally human either. We’ll think of you as an honorary witch.”
I grinned. “Thanks. So we meet in the cove at seven thirty?”
Melissa nodded. “On the dot.”
I lifted my hand in a wave as the other girls headed in the direction of Sage Springs College campus, though I knew Laurel would leave Melissa a couple of blocks from here to go back to her parents’ house where she still lived.
I started the walk back to the farmland on the outskirts of town where Riley’s trailer was now positioned. It was a good couple of miles, but I didn’t mind the walk. It took a lot to tire me out, and besides, I didn’t have a car any more. My Audi had been written off during the accident Bulldog’s guys had constructed. My parents had been horrified at the news—though I’d neglected to tell them the full story. They knew how difficult it was to actually cause me any harm and had offered to buy me a new vehicle. I’d declined their kind offer. I liked to walk, but, to be honest, the accident had left me shaken. I still didn’t feel completely comfortable behind the wheel, and if I needed to get anywhere, I was more than happy with my arms wrapped around Riley’s waist, while he rode his motorbike.
The police had, of course, been involved after everything had calmed down. Not only had my car been sabotaged, but the poor guy at the garage had suffered being bound and gagged while Bulldog’s guys tore the brakes out of my car. Riley and I had both agreed on a story where Bulldog and his men hadn’t wanted Riley and me to be together, and, when threats to keep us apart hadn’t worked, they’d gone a step further and had tried to physically harm me to scare me off. The police had been amazed I’d walked away from the accident with barely a scratch, but that wasn’t something I had any story planned for. I simply had to tell them I’d been lucky, as I figured letting them know I was half vampire would probably get me locked up in the loony bin.
I walked with long, strong strides. The afternoon was a hot one, and as I left the town behind and mounted the coastal road, my viewpoint allowed me a vantage over the ocean and beach. Bodies lay on the sand in the late afternoon sun, while others took a dip in the ocean to cool off. Sun-baking wasn’t for me. I burned as soon as I exposed my pale skin to the sun, and even today I was smothered in sun lotion, and wore capped sleeves and long pants, while my new girlfriends all wore strappy dresses or tiny shorts to show off their tans.
Something on the horizon caught my eye. A thick bank of white cloud had appeared and was edging closer, swallowing the point where the ocean met the sky. Even as I watched, and no more than a minute passed by, the bank appeared to grow closer, the expanse of ocean vanishing before my eyes.
I frowned. Was this one of my premonitions? I had a way of seeing things that hadn’t happened yet, though sometimes they were more the universe’s interpretations of what was going to happen, rather than the actual events themselves. I wondered if this was the same thing, and my mind
was creating a vision of something that wasn’t actually there, but then I noticed people on the beach beginning to react to the impending white cloud. People stood and pointed out toward the horizon, while those swimming began to wade in to shore, glancing over their shoulders as if they’d suddenly found themselves in shark infested waters.
The cloud grew closer, reaching out across the ocean with wispy fingers as if feeling its way to the land. I narrowed my eyes and shivered, despite the warm day.
Down on the beach, people started to gather their things, folding up beach blankets and putting down their sun umbrellas. A few folk stood on the edge of the shore, their hands on their hips, watching the spectacle approach.
I’d never seen a cloud so low before, or move so fast.
Then what I was seeing dawned on me. This wasn’t a cloud I was watching, but fog.
Having grown up in Los Angeles, I’d seen fog—though most of the time it was smog from pollution hanging over the city—but nothing like this. I stood, frozen by my indecision. What should I do? Would the fog dissipate when it reached land, or would it keep creeping in and engulf me?
As I watched the people on the beach pack up and head for their vehicles, I decided I wasn’t going to hang around long enough to find out. The thick cloud rolled and tumbled across the ocean, tendrils leading the way, reaching out to make contact with the sand. From where I stood, at a higher elevation, I wondered if it would take longer to reach me, or perhaps not even get as high up as this, but I didn’t want to learn the answer to my question.
Quickly, I turned from the beach and hurried up the road. I was tempted to break into a run, but I didn’t want to panic and look like a crazy person to the locals, who probably had seen this kind of freakish fog every year and would laugh at the city girl scared of a bit of bad weather. Even so, I walked as fast as I could without running.
A car drove past, the old guy behind the wheel not even noticing me. I glanced back over my shoulder, toward the bay. The beach was almost deserted now, except for a few younger guys who must have thought wandering around in the fog was a fun way to spend some time. As I craned my neck to look over my shoulder, the white fog tumbled over the men like a wave, swallowing them.
I shivered again. It was as if they’d never been there.
Maybe I was freaking out over nothing, but I only wanted to be inside Riley’s trailer with the doors and windows firmly shut, and held in Riley’s arms. I chewed nervously at my lower lip. I hoped he’d be home already.
I hurried on and then glanced back again. The beach had almost vanished now, together with the parking lot where Riley’s carnies had set up the fairground only a few weeks earlier, and the field where the trailers had been positioned. The memory of the place made my stomach lurch. I couldn’t shake the feeling I had taken Riley from his home, even though his home didn’t exist there anymore.
I couldn’t worry about that now. The fog had reached the cliff face, and only a few meters of scrub land and several more of asphalt separated me from it. The temperature of the air began to drop, and damp touched my bare skin. I was thankful for the long pants and sleeved t-shirt I wore. I hoped my friends had made it back to their homes safely, but then they were local and perhaps used to this fog at this time of year.
I just wished someone had warned me.
A low barrier divided the road from the scrubland and the following cliff to prevent accidents. I stayed close to it now, thinking I might need the rail once the fog reached me so I didn’t end up wandering up the middle of the road.
The fog was now only a few yards away, and appeared like a solid, if somewhat fluffy, wall of white. Closer to the ground, tendrils led the way, and soon enough were curling around my ankles. The fog’s touch felt cold, and I had to stop myself imagining it was alive somehow. My vision became misty, and I realized the view of the road ahead had reduced to only a body’s length, and the view of the beach had completely vanished. Within seconds, the body length shortened, until finally I would barely have been able to make out my hand in front of my face.
I tested this theory by doing exactly that and waving my hand before my eyes. I could just discern the shape of my fingers, but that was about all. I came to a standstill, scared I’d wander off in the wrong direction.
Weirdly, inside the fog was utterly silent. I couldn’t hear the waves on the shore, or any other vehicles on the road. Due to my vampire genetics, my senses were more powerful than a regular eighteen year old girl’s, but even with my heightened sense of hearing and smell, I picked up nothing. It was as if I’d found myself inside a vacuum. Claustrophobia started to set in, my heart beating harder, my breath growing short. The fog was chilly against my skin, and I struggled to imagine the heat of the sun I’d been battling against only a few minutes earlier.
Why hasn’t the sun burned off the fog?
I felt utterly alone inside the white cloud, as if the rest of the world had vanished. With panic building inside me, I fished into the pocket of my pants for my cell phone. Pulling it out, I scrolled down to Riley’s number and hit call. The phone beeped at me, and I checked the screen.
No service.
“Shit.”
My voice sounded too loud.
Why didn’t I have service? I’d never had any problems getting a connection in Sage Springs before.
I wondered what to do. Should I hunker down and wait for the fog to pass or burn off? It was tempting, but I could be here for hours. I could see Dana’s birthday celebrations amounting to nothing. We wouldn’t find the cove, never mind have the witchy party the girls had planned. Maybe the coven would have a way of getting rid of the fog, a spell of some kind?
But I didn’t want to just sit and wait. I might end up being here all night.
In my head, I mentally mapped the route to Riley’s trailer. I needed to take a small road on the left in about ten minutes’ walking time, and then about five minutes after that I would need to take a right to walk the small track toward the trailer. The main farmhouse wasn’t far from the track, and hopefully the fog would have thinned out enough by then for me to spot some lights or something.
I walked like a blind person, one hand on the barrier, trailing my fingers along the top, the other stretched out in front of me. Every footstep was carefully placed, my toes tapping for anything unexpected.
Suddenly, the road dropped away from under me, my stomach lurching into my throat as if I were on a rollercoaster ride. But within a fraction of a second, my foot hit solid ground again and I almost laughed at my reaction. It had been the smallest dip in the road, something I probably wouldn’t have even noticed in normal situations, but in my almost blind state had felt like a terrifying drop.
I paused for a moment, allowing my stomach to settle and my heart rate to drop, while not quite back to normal, at least a little slower than the current pattering. I needed to cross to the other side of the road soon, and I wasn’t looking forward to the prospect for two reasons. One was that I’d need to walk across a road when there was no chance of a car seeing me, should one decide to drive down at the exact moment I decided to cross. And the second was that I would need to let go of the barrier that had been acting as my support rail.
I had no choice if I didn’t want to hang out on the side of the road until the fog cleared. I must have walked the ten minutes I had guessed would bring me to the turn off, so I needed to cross to the other side.
My ears strained, trying to pick up on the muffled roar of a car’s engine approaching, but I heard only silence. Everything felt muted, even my sense of smell picked up on nothing, and I would have expected the salty tang of the sea on the fog.
Dead. It smelled dead.
I pushed the idea away.
With no obvious sign of a car approaching, I forced my cold fingers to release the rail. I took a deep breath, not liking how I inhaled the white mist into my lungs, and stepped into the road.
I moved as fast as I dared without running, my hands held out in front
of me so I must have appeared like some shambling zombie. My whole body was braced for the impact of a vehicle emerging from the fog and slamming into me, my ears straining for any sound.
My thighs collided with another barrier, jolting me forward so I almost catapulted right over the top. I groaned and rubbed at my sore legs. I would have bruises for my efforts, but I had made it to the other side. However, the presence of the barrier meant I had misjudged the position of the exit I wanted. This was to be expected. In the thick fog, it was unlikely I’d have picked the position exactly, but now I wondered which way I should go.
Had I already gone past the turn off, or had I not reached it yet? If I kept going, and didn’t come to it, how far would I walk before deciding I had gone too far?
My indecision was taking over. I felt lost and disoriented, trying not to panic.
“Always move forward,” I told myself, still not liking how my voice sounded in the fog.
But I followed my own guidance and continued to head up the hill.
To my relief, the barrier suddenly came to an end. I must have reached the point of the junction I wanted. Sudden paranoia gripped me and I wondered if I’d somehow managed to get myself all turned around in the disorienting fog. What if I’d actually reached a point on the other side of the road, missing the barrier, so I would take a few steps in that direction and topple off the side of the cliff onto the beach below?
No, no, no. I shook my head, trying to dispel the notion. I wouldn’t do something so stupid. I’d mapped where I was in my head the whole way. Even if I couldn’t see the road, I knew where I was.
Edging to my left, I was still cautious, despite my own reassurances. But my foot didn’t slip off the edge of a cliff. Instead, it met with the gravelled edge of the road, and I was sure I’d taken the right turn.
I felt a little better to be on the quieter road, though the density of the fog still hadn’t thinned, and I still couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. At least anyone driving along this road would be going slower. The lack of people around was creepy, but I reasoned that no one would willingly go out in this, and probably would be more sensible than me and stay put if they got caught out like I did.