Page 3
That made Bee smile, but didn’t erase the concern in her brown eyes. “It hasn’t been easy for you lately,” she observed, and I felt a really bitter comment—When is it ever easy for me?—leap to the tip of my tongue.
I made myself smile at Bee, opening the car door. “It’s probably the sunblock seeping into my brain or something. Or overexposure to chlorine.”
As I went to get in the passenger seat, I happened to glance down into my bag. Frowning, I realized I had only my towel, keys, and sunglasses, which meant that my book was still at the pool.
“Be right back,” I told Bee, and then jogged back up to the pool’s gates. They were still unlocked; a few of the cleaning guys were emptying trash cans, picking up litter, vacuuming the pool, all the things I was very glad were not in my job description.
There was no sign of the book by my chair, so I walked across the concrete toward my locker in the changing room. The staff didn’t get special rooms or anything, but we all were given our own lockers, so it was possible that my book had fallen out in there.
I kept a bright purple lock on mine and, as I spun the dial, I was already thinking about what I’d do once I got home. Bee would go to Ryan’s, and while I knew I was welcome there, I definitely did not feel like third wheeling it. I could sit in my room with my book and fully give in to this black mood, or I could maybe go out in the backyard and practice a few Paladin moves.
Or, I reasoned, yanking the lock from its slot, I could go over to my aunts’ place, watch whatever bad reality-TV show they were currently obsessed with, and let them shove my face full of cake.
Yeah, that’s what I’d do. I could use a little spoiling and a lot of sugar and butter.
Opening the locker door, I glanced inside, looking for the telltale orange cover of Choosing Your Path, smiling as I imagined what kinds of cake The Aunts might have for me.
I was still smiling when the lights went out, plunging the changing room into darkness.
Chapter 2
FOR A MOMENT, there was no sound but my own breathing and the distant plink from the row of sinks on the other side of the wall.
“There’s someone in here!” I called, thinking one of the cleaning guys had just reached in to cut off the lights.
But there was no answer, no apologetic “Sorry about that!” The room stayed dark.
I wasn’t scared, exactly, but my heart was definitely pounding. If this was some jackass’s idea of a prank, boy, had they picked the wrong girl to scare.
Adrenaline flooded me, and I threaded my fingers through the loop of the lock still in my hand. My punches were strong enough on their own, but a little extra oomph never hurt anyone. Besides, anyone who purposely scares a girl by herself deserves a broken nose.
“I suggest you turn those lights back on,” I called out, my voice loud in the silence. “Let me also suggest that you not let me catch you, douchebag.”
There was someone in the room with me. I couldn’t hear them breathing or moving or anything, but every hair on my body was standing at attention, telling me I wasn’t alone. For the first time, something close to fear rattled through me. If this was one of the college boys who cleaned the pool, he’d have already made some noise. A laugh or assurance he was “just playin’.” Or at the very least, I’d smell some cheap cologne.
I slammed the locker door behind me, hoping to startle whoever was in here into making a noise that gave me a sense of where they were.
And sure enough, there it was: the littlest gasp over to my right, close to the other row of lockers. There were benches between me and that area. Lock still clutched in my hand, I started to inch my way toward the light switch by the door, keeping far away enough from the benches to avoid tripping. All I had to do was move a few feet, then I could reach out and turn the switch on, but I didn’t want to run. I couldn’t remember if there’d been anything on the floor when I’d come in, and I wasn’t a hundred percent sure about those benches. They could be closer than I was imagining, and the last thing I wanted was to whack my shin while trying to run away. No, my best bet was to move as slowly and quietly as I could.
There was a sudden breeze as someone moved—fast—right by me, and my heart leapt up into my throat while my fingers curled tighter around the lock.
For all that I’d battled all kinds of bad guys, it surprised me enough for a startled squawk to escape my lips, and I turned, trying to figure out where the person had gone. This was more than just some jerk screwing around with a girl by herself. This was legitimately dangerous. It wasn’t a David-is-in-trouble feeling, but my Paladin senses were kicking in nonetheless. Not just heart-pounding, blood-racing, normal “I may get killed” stuff, but a sensation like Pop Rocks going off in my chest.
Planting my feet firmly, I drew back the hand holding the lock. In one quick, powerful movement, I shoved out. My hand hit something bony—a shoulder, I thought—but the person didn’t budge.
Even though I knew this wasn’t one of the pool guys, I said, “Last chance to turn on the lights, dude.”
There was no answer.
They’d retreated, I thought, moved back to get a better look, but then, just as I started to turn in the direction I thought they might have gone, there was a sudden shuffle of footsteps, and pain exploded on the side of my head, sparking lights in front of my eyes.
Stunned and in pain, I staggered back, my knee catching the edge of one of those benches after all.
Another sense of movement, and I reached out just in time to catch a foot that had been aiming for my midsection. It was small, but the shoe felt heavy, the tread thick. A boot, I thought, and one that would have forced all the breath out of my lungs had the kick landed.
Using the other person’s weight for momentum, I rose to my feet, still holding her (it was a girl now, I was pretty sure) ankle and giving it a vicious wrench.
The bone didn’t break, but she gave a very satisfying cry of pain. Still, that motion, twisting her ankle, weakened my grip on her boot, and she pulled away, retreating back into the darkness, breathing hard.
My head and knee ached, but I had more than just adrenaline fueling me now. My Paladin powers roared to life, filling me with something almost like giddiness. This may be scary and dangerous and all, but it meant my boring summer was over, and to be honest, the idea of taking out some of my angst on someone who really deserved it seemed like a solid plan.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice a little hoarse. “I mean, other than the girl I’m about to wipe the floor with.”
There was a laugh, but she sounded breathless, too. “You wish. Clearly you’ve never met a Paladin.”
She lunged then, and I kicked, my flip-flop flying, but my foot connecting with her jaw.
“Um, I am one?” I answered, and I could hear the girl spit on the floor.
“Whatever,” she scoffed, and I reached out, trying to grab her. She moved out of my grasp, but I still moved forward. “No, seriously,” I told her. “Aren’t you noticing how I’m kicking your butt? You think an average girl could do that?”
No answer, and I racked my brain, trying to think how there could be another Paladin. There was just supposed to be me. Well, me and Bee, but David had turned Bee into—
I grabbed for the girl again, my fingers wrapping around a thin, sweaty bicep, and I heard her draw in a shaky breath. “Wait a minute. Did David make you? A blond boy, glowing eyes, terrible dress sense. Have you seen him?”