Amber (Amber trilogy Book 1) Page 3

  “How grateful?” Logan asked suggestively.

  “I accept your gratitude, Amber O’Neill,” Drake said, his eyes twinkling with joy.

  “This doesn’t change anything,” Ian snapped. “We still don’t want your kind anywhere near her. Stay away, or the Council will hear about it.”

  Dave mumbled that he didn’t care about the Council and that they could take care of their own business. Amber knew what kind of “taking care” he meant and shivered. She was a pacifist and abhorred violence. She would never be able to physically defend herself against anybody, because, in the real world, Dave didn’t defeat Goliath. He got crushed.

  Drake ignored Ian’s threat. “Of course, this doesn’t change anything,” he said smoothly. “I just did what anybody would have done.”

  Amber knew that that couldn’t be true. According to Meg, dragons loathed dryads as much as dryads loathed them. But Drake had just stated the opposite, and until further proof she decided to take his word for it.

  “I’ll stay away from her unless she wants me in her presence, of course,” he added teasingly.

  This time, she was the one sending him a scornful glance. After today, they would never speak to each other again. After today, they would avoid each other like the plague.

  Ian snorted. “Is that a promise? We all know how important promises are to your kind.”

  A knot formed in her stomach when she was suddenly reminded of her own careless promise.

  Drake avoided her eyes. “Not just for my kind,” he corrected Ian, “but it’s a promise.”

  Just when she thought everything was said and done, Drake stepped forward and handed her back her bag. It only took a light touch of his fingers to show her a new, shocking vision.

  Her hands grabbed the edge of the bench and she blinked repeatedly to make the horrifying image disappear. Maybe that moment she had feared all of her life had finally come. The moment she would follow in her insane great-grandmother’s footsteps and lose her mind. Or maybe her vision had let her down for the first time in her life because what she’d just seen was simply impossible.

  The terror must have been visible on her face because Drake froze and stepped back. As if he wanted to create as much space between them as possible.

  But it was already too late. Fate had rolled its dice and there was nothing she could do to change it. She didn’t know when it would happen. Maybe a day, a week, or a year from today, but she would go down in a sea of flames, and Drake Cage would be watching, as he held her in his arms.

  THREE

  Amber was about to relax on the couch when the doorbell rang. Ian had brought her home, and after making sure she was perched on the couch, he had left. She quickly suppressed her horrible vision, in which she would share her mother’s fate. She knew she had to tell her father eventually. Maybe together they could find a way to thwart the cruel phenomenon called “fate.” If he didn’t come up with a brilliant plan, maybe she could move to the other side of the world. In Australia, they had universities as well. She could take a koala bear for a pet and learn how to surf.

  When the doorbell rang for the second time, she had finally stumbled out of the living room. She was surprised to see Meg standing on their porch.

  Meg oddly wore a gray velvet skirt and big silver earrings dangled from her ears. The last time she had seen Meg she was dressed in haute couture and Cartier. None of the ladies of brunch would recognize her now.

  Meg gave her a kiss in the air and walked passed her, straight into the living room.

  “Every day you’re starting to look more and more like your mother,” she sighed while taking off her scarf.

  Amber plastered a smile on her face and followed Meg to her father’s chair. It had almost been a year since Meg had visited them. Meg rarely left her cottage. She didn’t like visitors, either. Unless she threw one of her extravagant parties. Meg’s gift had manifested at a later age. So until her late twenties, Meg had been able to lead a normal life. Unlike her.

  She bit her lip when she noticed the direction her thoughts were headed. It wasn’t Meg’s fault she wasn’t a Martha Stewart and they had never baked cookies together.

  Meg let her disapproving gaze glide over the weathered Chesterfield in the corner by the fireplace. Then she continued to the lamp at the window, the coffee table, and the cream-colored flower wallpaper that graced a wall. “Not a thread of fabric has been changed here since Emily died,” she said in a tone of voice that suggested the wallpaper fell off the walls. “I wished William would listen to me and use the interior designer who worked for me.”

  Amber doubted if their living room would improve if it were stuffed with gold vases and Persian carpets you could probably find in a harem. “What can I do for you, Meg?” she asked politely.

  “You can start with offering me a cup of tea. Then, we need to have a chat.”

  Amber bit the inside of her cheek. It wasn’t the first time Meg had confused her with Armand, her loyal butler-slash-housekeeper and also half-dragon.

  She stumbled to the kitchen and made tea. Of course, Meg didn’t notice the thumping of her crutches on the carpet. It was near impossible to carry a tea cup with the crutches, so she left them behind. She pushed through the pain when she felt her ankle protest and walked back into the living room. Another thing Meg didn’t notice. Meg had the unusual gift of not noticing stuff she didn’t want to see.

  Amber put the tea cup in front of her. “How did you know I would be at home?”

  “Where else would you be?” Meg asked surprised.

  Of course Meg didn’t know that school had begun. To know that she’d have to have some interest in their lives. Amber swallowed that remark and sat down on the sofa. She made a bit of a show to rest her foot on a cushion. This time the bandage around her ankle couldn’t even escape her grandmother.

  “You’re hurt,” Meg said, sounding a tad nervous.

  “I fell.”

  That seemed to relax Meg. “I want you to tell me about your headaches,” she suddenly said.

  It was typical for Meg to practically ignore her for years and then suddenly pop up like a Jack-in-the-box. Perhaps finally the time had come for her grandmother to take her under her wings. She thought about her vision and the murder that would take place in the gym. Her throat burned when she opened her mouth. Maybe it was a reaction to Meg’s presence. “I had another nightmare last night,” she eventually said without going into detail.

  “Are they more frequent than before?” Meg’s tone of voice had an ominous sound.

  A chill went down Amber’s spine. The feeling that this wasn’t a social call was about to come true. “Yes,” she said.

  Meg nodded absently. “I should have realized that after the accident of the Bennets and the disappearance of that mailman.”

  Amber looked at her quizzically. “I don’t follow.”

  “They are all supernatural creatures,” Meg explained, impatiently. “You have realized by now that you only have nightmares when one of us dies of unnatural causes, haven’t you?” She sounded as if she were explaining something to a three-year-old.

  Amber was perplexed. She almost wanted to apologize for not paying more attention when she realized she wasn’t to blame. No one had ever explained her visions to her simply because no one understood the first thing about them. Except for Meg. Meg who had dodged her questions by saying she was too busy or off to some party. It was code for: I don’t have time for you; leave me alone. “No, it must have slipped my attention,” she said, gritting her teeth.

  Meg cocked a silver brow. “Well, now you know. It’s a good thing I came by. Actually, I’m kind of disappointed that you didn’t come look me up yourself. It’s past time that you learned how to handle your gift.”

  Amber tasted blood when she bit the inside of her cheek once again. It was either that or have a tantrum. All she could muster was a nod.

  Meg took a deep breath as if she was starting a tedious chore. “There are three
things you need to know about your gift. The most important rule is: don’t try to change the future. Whatever you see, must eventually happen.”

  “Not ever?” Nausea formed in the pit of her stomach.

  Meg looked annoyed, clearly not liking being interrupted by her young pupil. “It’s very tempting to tell someone to turn right instead of left because otherwise, for example, he will get into an accident. This, however, will change the life of more than just one person and you will cause a glitch in the natural fabric of life. A glitch that will try to correct itself in another way. The accident will happen in the end, albeit in another way. Trying to prevent a vision is a dangerous path to follow. Something all dryads know and even a few humans,” she said sharply.

  Amber immediately knew what she was getting at. Knowledge of the future had killed her mother. Meg would never let her father live down that he had allowed her mother to leave, thirteen years ago. Of course Meg didn’t mention the fact that she had been the one to tell her daughter what she had seen in the first place. Still, Amber took some comfort from her words. There was a possibility to change the future, however small that may be. She would hold on to that. After all, what could be worse than ending up as a marshmallow?

  “The second thing you have to know is that the visions aren’t random,” Meg continued. “You only see what’s going to happen when the one you’re touching thinks about it. The human brain is a muddy pool of conscious and unconscious thoughts, but something you can exercise control over if done correctly.”

  Amber nodded, indicating she had already figured that out. She wasn’t a complete idiot, though Meg’s superior look gave her that feeling.

  “The last is about the nightmares. There’s only one way to get rid of them and that’s when someone in your bloodline is born with the same gift. I got rid of the nightmares when you had your first vision.”

  Well, that explained a thing or two. Migraines meant that one of their kind met an untimely death. She would possibly have to wait until she turned gray before the migraines would stop. Then, her nightmares would pass on to the next poor sap: her grandchild. Great.

  “Excellent! Now that I’ve explained the basic rules, it’s time to practice,” Meg called. She got out of the chair and sat next to Amber, pulling a magazine from her bag. She went through the pages until she had found what she was looking for. She pointed at a picture.

  Amber recognized the man as one of the bank directors she’d once seen at Meg’s garden party.

  Meg took her hand. “Focus on me and tell me what you see.”

  Green numbers on a computer screen. A man in an expensive suit with a cigar in his hand and a beaming Meg next to him.

  “Tell me everything you see. Don’t leave a single detail out,” Meg insisted. After Amber had done what she’d asked, Meg grabbed the magazine and got up. “That was lesson one.”

  She had almost waltzed out of the room when Amber stopped her. “Wait! What does it mean?”

  “It’s just a test to help you, dear. Nothing more.” Meg draped her scarf over her head and rushed away. A beat later the front door thudded shut.

  Amber leaned back with a sigh. She realized she’d forgot to ask about Meg’s weird clothes, especially since, in the near future, she would exchange them for a designer outfit again.

  FOUR

  By Tuesday morning, Amber was back to her usual, sunny self. Her ankle was carefully wrapped, and she barely felt any pain anymore. She put on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and some sneakers. She refused to huddle up in a dark corner, thinking of what the future might hold for her. She’d thought of a simple solution to stop her vision of doom. In hindsight it was so obvious that she was a bit surprised that she hadn’t considered it yesterday.

  She would be the master of her own fate!

  Ian sat at the kitchen table, accompanied by his eternal shadow, Dave Addison. Together, they were stuffing their faces with a breakfast of beans and sausage that had wrapped the whole downstairs in its characteristic smell.

  Ian was bent over a copy of the Somerset Gazette. “Great. Of course, the back page is all messed up by the rain in the sports section. That new mailman clearly sucks,” he grumbled.

  “Is Pierce on a holiday?” Amber asked while she started to prepare a sandwich. She hadn’t seen their mailman in a while.

  “Yes, Pierce is on a holiday. A permanent one,” Ian said. “The only thing left of his house is charred wood. The police are still in the dark and claim that short-circuiting might be the cause of what caused his house to go up in flames, but we know better. According to rumor Pierce had gambling debts, owing to dragons and goblins.”

  “A bad lot to hang with,” Dave noted.

  “Speaking of dragons,” Ian added grudgingly, “the Claw family donated a hundred computers to Trinity. This explains why Jonah Claw was chosen to be the new football captain. I hate those bloody dragons.”

  Amber had barely downed her breakfast when Ian lifted his weekend bag. Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the school parking lot. Much to her relief, it was mostly deserted.

  Half an hour later the first seniors started trickling into the parking lot, and some time later the buses arrived. Ian and Dave got out of the car to load their luggage onto the bus, and she followed them.

  “Look at those cocky dragons standing next to their big, shiny cars,” Ian snarled. “First they take our parking spot, then the football team. They think they can just take over everything.” He scowled at one dragon in particular. Amber guessed it was Jonah Claw. He was standing with a smaller group of dragons, apart from the rest.

  “Those are the filthy rich fire devils from Seven Hill,” Dave told them. “I heard they even look down on their own kind.”

  She next spotted Drake’s group, unloading their luggage, and immediately looked away.

  Fire. Burn. Do not engage.

  She said good bye to Ian and Dave, wishing them happy camping. When the buses had left and Amber turned around, she came face to face with Drake. Fragments of the vision in which she died danced before her eyes. Her heart fluttered in her chest in fear and another emotion, which she couldn’t name.

  I am the master of my fate.

  I am the master of my fate!

  He walked past her without saying a word. It looked like he took his promise to stay away from her seriously. She sighed in relief and told herself that she wasn’t disappointed. Nope. Not disappointed one bit.

  “Amber! My injured little rock chick.”

  Jimmy’s greeting, followed by a hug, made her smile. She wasn’t surprised that he stayed behind too. Going into the woods with his list of allergies would be like suicide. “It looks like I’m stuck here this week too,” Amber said. She pointed at her crutches, which were impossible to miss.

  Jimmy whistled. “I heard about your little accident.” He bent to grab her bag and they walked to the classroom together. There were a few more seniors there who had managed to avoid camp. Drake was sitting in the back of the class, so Amber chose a seat in the front. Jimmy sat down next to her and pulled out a notebook.

  Amber was very aware of Drake sitting behind her. Her heart, the happy center that was in charge of her emotions, was screaming that she wanted to see him again. It was fighting a bitter war with her mind, the part that told her that even one glimpse would be too much.

  Her mind won.

  The history teacher handed out an additional assignment for those who wanted bonus points, and she gladly took that opportunity.

  Jimmy grabbed an assignment as well and immediately sported a puppy face. “It’s way too hot to be writing an essay,” he complained.

  “Don’t worry. The library is air-conditioned and we can always go sit outside. We’ll get it done in no time.”

  “Easy for you to say, Miss I’m-so-smart-I-skipped-a-grade.”

  “I’ll help you out.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He grinned.

  Ten minutes later, the bell finally rang. />
  She saw Drake disappear from the corners of her eyes. The tension that had been building up inside her disappeared.

  Jimmy made a face while he picked up her bag. “It’s ironic that history is my worst subject, considering that my mum is a historian. You’d think something like that would get passed along genetically. Especially since she did burden me with all her allergies.”

  “Yeah, well, my dad’s a surgeon and I’ve already killed three goldfish,” she dryly reminded him.

  “Oh right, how could I ever forget Innuendo, Barracuda, and Kashmir? Three small fish with big names, who unfortunately couldn’t live up to them,” he said solemnly.

  In the library, they found the books they needed and Jimmy carried them outside. They sat down at a picnic table and started on their assignment.

  After Jimmy assured himself that Amber had rewritten at least half of his essay, he put his pen down. “I heard you got into a fight with the dragons yesterday,” he said.

  “Actually, I was more like in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Shit, I missed out on all the action again.”

  “Wish I could say the same. Anyway, I wasn’t planning on getting anywhere near dragons again.”

  Jimmy scribbled something down in his notebook and then put it down. “I heard that this Drake Cage guy is trouble. It is said that he wasn’t allowed to join camp because he missed a month of school last summer, because he got arrested for illegal street fights. He has to catch up on some finals and he’s also said to be involved in a silent war with Henry Fitch, the grandson of Alec Kincaid. It’s probably age-old rivalry between the dragons from Seven Hill and the Fire Mountain.”

  “Another good reason to stay away from them,” Amber whispered while she put the books in her bag. “But enough about me. How about you? Are your parents talking to each other again?”

  Jimmy shrugged. “More like yelling than actual talking.” He quickly changed the subject into the latest movie he saw, avoiding the breakup of his parents.