House of Darken (Secret Keepers #1)

The man took a step away and I saw a flash of light as he lifted the lantern closer, reading over the documents. He stepped back to the car window a few minutes later, just as the first drops of rain started to hit. The storm was about to rage at us.

“Well, everything seems to be in order here. You’re one of the lucky few allowed to live on Astoria’s most exclusive street. There will be security cards in your house, one for each of you. Please keep them on you at all times. And make sure you stick to your side of the street.” He cleared his throat. “That’s an official rule – don’t cross to their side of the street and you won’t have any trouble.”

With that weird and kind of insulting advice, he turned and marched off. Within seconds, the double gates were silently swinging open.

Our side of the street. Their side of the street. What crap was this? Did they segregate people here? Because I was not cool with any sort of segregation.

Except for assholes – they could walk straight off a cliff.

My parents had always drilled the importance of equality into me, that I should treat people as I would want to be treated, no matter their personal circumstances. Despite the fact that sometimes people hit my bitch switch – my redhead temper could get the better of me – for the most part I tried to be a decent human being. I actually tried even harder now my parents were gone. I had to make them proud.

Michael eased the car back into drive, and with a few shuddering lurches we were moving again.

“Where exactly did you find this rental?” Sara asked him as she leaned forward in her seat, a dubious look on her face.

Michael didn’t answer at first – he was too busy staring at the street before us – but he did thrust the same papers at her that he had given to the guard. As she silently read through them, I turned my full attention to this street. Despite the darkness, I could tell how stunning it was. The most picture-perfect street I had ever seen in my life, beyond movies and any fairytale world. The road was wide, long, and straight. There were lanterns dotted in even intervals along each side, casting everything in soft light. Hedges and perfectly-shaped rose bushes filled the spaces between the lanterns.

To our right, which I knew from the map was the side on the water, the houses were … well, not houses. At minimum they were mansions. Some in the distance looked a lot like castles. Huge and imposing, they were the height of beauty and architectural design. No two were the same layout or color, and each seemed to be set on an enormous block of land with solid gates barring them from the street.

“Michael!” Sara’s voice was high and stressed now. “This is a mistake, right? We can’t live in one of those houses. They’re multi-million dollar properties.”

It was then I noticed the other side of the street and I started to understand how we’d ended up in here. Not to mention the our and their side comments from the guard made a lot more sense now.

The left side of the street was the very poor, rundown cousin to the mansions on the right. Each house was small and dark, as if even the streetlamps didn’t like them very much and decided not to shine any light over there. The blocks were close together, and many of the buildings looked a little worse for wear. Michael and Sara also noticed “our side” of the street, and relief crossed their faces. This was the world we were familiar with.

“Keep an eye out for fourteen,” Michael said as he continued creeping along. The road was deserted. Everyone must have scurried inside to avoid the storm. We were the only crazies driving around. Already a fair bit of water was splattering in through the still-open driver’s window. Michael hadn’t managed to get it closed yet, although he was still working on it.

“There it is,” I said, pointing my arm through the center of the car toward a single level, rickety-looking place with a half-porch.

Outside of the soft lamplight everything looked eerie, shadows awash across that small porch, the wind whipping leaves and debris around the front yard. The clunker eased into the open car space and with one last huff turned off. Michael used both hands then to get his window all the way closed. Well, almost all the way. Then the three of us sat and stared, exhausted from the days of travel, but reluctant to leave the familiarity of the car and step into the dark, creepy house.

Sara pulled herself together first, plastering on her best confident face, turning to Michael and me: “Let’s go inside. We can deal with all the problems tomorrow. Fresh sheets on the beds and a warm shower. Everything will seem brighter in the morning.”

It was as good a plan as any. I wiggled my legs to get the blood pumping again, before dragging my Converse up off the floor and pulling them on. I was wearing short shorts and a tank. It was summer, and hot when we left this morning. Apparently the Pacific Northwest cared nothing for seasons though; it did what it wanted. Which meant I was going to freeze my butt off trying to get my bag and box from the back.

The three of us dashed to the trunk of the car. Michael yanked it open and started handing things across. Arms full, we all made our way up onto the porch, which provided only the slightest shelter from the rain. It was just shy of a downpour, and we were damp in moments. The front door opened right up and we hurried inside.

Sara found the lights in the front room, flicking them on. As everything came into focus, I sort of wished she would turn them back off again. The house was small and boxy, set out in a square formation. Living room and kitchen in the front half, hallway in middle, and I would guess the two bedrooms and bathroom made up the back half.

We stepped into the living area with its threadbare carpet, two old ragged couches, and a coffee table that looked like it was put together with cardboard. Sara’s smile didn’t dim; she was used to this life, and had embraced it long ago.

“Great, they actually left some furniture. Even when they say fully furnished, so many times they aren’t.” Her overly chipper chatter continued as she moved farther into the house, turning on more lights. “Isn’t it great that electricity is included in this rental property?”

That was a positive. For once we wouldn’t have to worry about that bill getting paid.

“Come on, Em. Let’s get settled.” Michael briefly dropped his hand on my shoulder. His expression didn’t change when I subtly shifted away, breaking contact. I loved my guardians, but ever since the fire I had avoided being touched. Emotions and images would overwhelm me. Like … I was only able to remain contained if I existed in a world devoid of touch and comfort. If it bothered Sara and Michael, they never showed it; they just minimized the amount of physical affection they forced on me.

They had learned quickly when to push and when to let me be.

We explored the tiny place. Of the two bedrooms, the smaller one with the twin bed was mine. I dumped my box and bag on the floor and took a second to examine my new space. Besides the bed there was a closet, side table, and dresser, more furniture than I was used to having in the last six months. I didn’t even care that it had seen better days, the white paint peeling and tattered. It would do the job I needed.

There was no bedding but that was okay. I had my own. Sara said that no matter how many houses you lived in, as long as you had clean, familiar sheets, and a secure roof over your head, you’d be okay. Personally, I wouldn’t have minded a sandwich and hot cocoa to go with that, but she was half right at least.

Stepping to the mattress, I wrinkled my nose as a slight smell of stale dampness assaulted me. Glancing up, it didn’t seem as if this room leaked, so hopefully it was just from sitting unused. If the increasing heaviness of the rain was any indication, we were in for a bit of a thrashing this night, so I’d find out soon enough on the leaking situation.