House of Darken (Secret Keepers #1)

The shout had me spinning on the spot, heavy bags swinging against my legs. There were only two people in this town who knew my name. One was my mom, the other was a pain in my butt.

Turning away again, I yelled over my shoulder. “Not in the mood, Michaels. I have to get home.”

Jason Michaels was a persistent bastard, I’d give him that, but even after he’d challenged me and I’d kicked his ass in the gym, he still hadn’t given up. What his end game was, I had no idea. He never asked me out, or even hinted that he wanted to go on a date. He just … asked too many questions and was always around. If my mom got any hint of his consistent presence in my life, my one other piece of freedom would be yanked away from me.

Along with New Orleans.

I was not letting this tenacious bastard take this place from me.

“Are you training this afternoon?” he asked, falling into step beside me.

“No,” I replied shortly.

He just laughed. “You always say no, and yet you’re always there.”

Spinning on my heels, I swung back in his direction, startling him enough that he blinked wide eyes at me. Michaels was a good looking guy, tall, broad shouldered, bleach-blond tousled hair, the same as I’d seen from surfers when we lived in California – but in manners and speech he was all Southern.

“What exactly do I need to do to make you go away?”

He just shrugged, flashing me that slow smile. “You like me, I know it.” He turned to walk away, before calling over his shoulder. “See you this afternoon, cher.”

I glared at his retreating back, shaking my head and hurrying along again. Part of me wondered if I should try and be nicer to him. In general, I was a bitch to everyone – I didn’t have any friends for a reason. I had to keep myself away from everyone else, because if I didn’t, if the wrong people found out about me … the world could end. Or something to that tune. My mom had gotten systematically crazier over the years, but the gist was always the same – I was important, and if the others got their hands on me…

Did I believe her? Hard to know, I’d seen a few weird occurrences in my life, difficult to explain happenings, but I still wasn’t totally sold on her tales.

In all honesty, I had no idea how to make or keep friends, and it was easier just relying on myself.

I turned back once to make sure Michaels wasn’t following me, because leading him home would be the best way to kick Mom into flight mode. The street was empty of all tall blonds, so I felt safe in continuing – navigating the path to get me home quickest, while also being somewhat safe. We didn’t live in the best neighborhood, but during daylight hours I hadn’t had much issue so far.

When I finally reached the stairs to the condo, I paused and took a deep breath. I had to prepare myself, because my mom was about to lose her shit at me. Some days I was just tired of this life, of my existence.

You’re eighteen now.

The stupid voice in my head had been reminding me of this for the last few months. My birthday had been in June, not that anyone remembered or mentioned it. But I knew, because it marked the moment I no longer had to follow my mom around. I could leave, get a job – paper trail be damned – rent my own shitty apartment and live an actual normal life. But the same part of me that continued to hold people at a distance, the part that believed her stories, wouldn’t let me make the final break. With one more deep breath for courage, I started up the two flights, mentally preparing myself for the fight which was to come.

As I went to put my key in the lock, the door pushed inwards, which didn’t surprise me. Mom was no doubt waiting right on the other side for me. But as the empty living area and kitchenette came into view, I ground to a halt.

What in the…?

Stepping forward again, my senses were firing as I took in my surroundings, cataloguing everything, searching for something out of place to explain what was going on. I left the bags of food near the front door, wanting both hands free. I wished my hair wasn’t hanging loose; I didn’t like to fight with it in my face. I had at least just cut it back to my shoulders, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. As if to prove me wrong, strands of ashy blond fell in front of my face, but a flick of my head put them back into place. The ceiling was low in here, and since I was five foot eleven, I had to duck under the arched accents in the hallway. The last thing I needed was to smash my head and alert whomever was inside that I was here.

My Converse were quiet as I crossed the threadbare carpet heading toward the first small bedroom, just off the hall. The bedrooms were across from each other, the bathroom at the back of the condo. That was all there was to this place. Nowhere really to hide.

It was deathly quiet, a bad omen because my mom always played Mozart and Bach in the house. Said it helped ease the turmoil of worry that plagued her mind. I wasn’t sure how I felt about classical. I was starting to think I was a jazz girl at heart, but I sure as hell missed them in this moment.

Because something was wrong.

Using my foot, I nudged my door open to reveal the twin bed, white dresser, open closet – or locker as they called it here – with my few clothes spilling out onto the floor, no sign of anything amiss. Ducking my head inside, I looked around to double-check, but as far as I could tell, the room was empty.

Spinning the other way, I sucked in some fortifying air and crossed the hall to my mom’s room. In normal circumstances I would never enter her domain. She was fiercely private, totally crazy, and prone to smacking me with wooden sticks. But this was no normal day. Her door firmly shut, I twisted the handle, wincing at the telltale creak of the lever lifting. Stepping back, I swung the door wide open, and waited a second for something to jump out at me. When nothing did, I peeked around the edge.

Her bed was twice the size of mine, neatly made with a faded green duvet. Her closet was closed, not a single item out of place, not even a shirt on the floor. I let my eyes run over everything, even dropping down to glance under the bed.

What was happening? Where was she?

Just as I was straightening, a creak from the living area sent a shot of adrenalin through me. I froze and unfroze almost in the same instant, crossing back to the door. I took two deep breaths, ducking my head out to look along the hall.

Holy fuck…

A man filled the doorway to the condo. I mean filled to the point where there was no space around him and he had to almost bend himself in half to fit inside. I was tall, but he had to be at least six inches taller than me. Our eyes locked across the room. Since the door had swung open, all of the adrenalin hitting me, everything had felt like it was going in fast forward. But right then I couldn’t move.

He stepped inside, untangling himself from the doorframe, only to find that the ceiling in the rest of the place wasn’t much higher. With a scowl, his body hunched forward and he took another step toward me.

“You need to come with me. You’re in danger.”

His accented demand was low and husky. For an instant I craved to hear some sort of music or song from his lips, because he had a voice like an instrument, deep and rich, vibrating right through my body.

“Did you hear me?” The snap of his question knocked me out of my stupor, and managing this time to ignore the way his voice made me feel, I sent a scowl right back at him.