Arcadia's Curse (Arcadia - Book 2)

Arcadia's Curse

An Arcadia Novel - Book 2

Arcadia's Curse

An Arcadia Novel - Book 2

by Jesi Lea Ryan

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 by Jesi Lea Ryan

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2013

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Publisher

Jesi Lea Ryan

Cover by Phatpuppy Art

Romance Fatal Serif font (c) Juan Casco

For more information, please feel free to visit Jesi Lea Ryan’s website at www.jesilea.com.

To Victoria,

who didn’t bat an eye when I walked in and told her

I wanted to blow something up

Chapter 1

"I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them."

― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

My butt was numb from sitting on the cold ground, but the real freeze was in my heart. Before me was a marble headstone reading:

Avalon Leigh Day

Beloved daughter, sister & friend

The large stone was etched with scrollwork and winged angels with hooped halos over their heads. I couldn’t help but think Lony would have hated it.

In my ungloved hands I held a lavender frosted cupcake with one waxed candle sticking out of the top. I reached in the pocket of my down coat and extracted a Bic lighter. There was no breeze, but it still took my fingers, stiff from the cold, several tries to produce a flame. I touched the light to the candle wick where it flared as the string caught. Letting go of the button on the lighter, I shoved it back into my pocket.

The cupcake with its glowing light was the only spot of color on the gray day. It was already close to noon, but thick clouds covered the landscape like a blanket. The skeletons of trees reached out of the ground between graves, dry remnants of discarded leaves shredded at the base of their trunks. The grass beneath me was brown and dead from a snow storm a couple of weeks earlier. Patches of dirty snow remained still, dotted in piles along the road curbs in the distance.

Leaning forward, I set the flickering cupcake at the base of the headstone and cleared my throat. Well, Lony...happy birthday, I guess.

Heaviness filled my lungs, and I closed my eyes to fend off the tears lying in wait. With a deep breath, I started again.

Happy birthday to us! I said with fake cheer. The grimace on my face faltered and fell. Okay, Lon, I feel like I should make a speech or something, but honestly, I don’t know what to say. We’re seventeen today. Or at least I was. Lony would forever be frozen at sixteen, but that just seemed rude to mention. "This is the first year we’re not having a party. I told Dad I don’t want one. I think he’s glad actually; he’s not really the party planning type.

I don’t know how much you’re aware of, so I suppose I’ll fill you in. Mom’s still in rehab. I took a deep breath and blew a long lock of hair from my eyes. "I don’t know when she’s getting out. Dad says she’s doing much better, but it’s been almost ninety days and he hasn’t mentioned anything.

Speaking of Dad...he sort of moved back home to keep an eye on us while Mom’s gone, although he reminds me every day that it’s only temporary. He refuses to move his stuff back. He goes over to his apartment every few days to pack a duffle of fresh clothes. And for some reason, he insists on sleeping in the guest room. I mean, Mom isn’t even here. Shouldn’t he sleep in the comfortable bed?

I paused, feeling stupid. Like my dead twin sister wanted to hear about the sleeping arrangements in our house. But not knowing what else to say, I continued on with the family update.

Aaron seems a lot different since you d-di... My tongue stumbled on the word. I started over. Aaron’s doing better. At least, he’s taking school a little more seriously. I mean, he’s still late every day, but I’ve actually caught him doing homework a few times. We have semester finals this week, and he thinks he’ll end up with mostly C’s and even a couple of B’s. Dad’ll probably think his report card is a forgery.

I picked at the dry, crinkly grass in front of me. I didn’t want to tell her about myself. That I still cry myself to sleep sometimes. That I rush past her closed bedroom door so I won’t have to look at it. That since she left, I’ve turned into some sort of paranormal freak who can feel the emotions of everyone around me...and occasionally heal people?

That the constant emotional clamor in my head makes school impossible.

And me, I guess I’m doing okay.

A tingle crept up my spine causing me to shiver. I turned to see a familiar boy with honey blond hair stepping toward me, holding a bouquet of flowers limply at his side. Cane Matthews. My dead sister’s boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend? I didn’t know what to call him when they broke up only minutes before Lony died.

Heat rushed to my face, a combination of my embarrassment and his. The last time we spoke was the day after the Homecoming dance in October when he admitted his feelings for me. Or rather, he revealed his feelings for me by thinking about them while inside my aura field. It was all rather complicated. Since then, Cane had kept his distance. I saw him sometimes in the cafeteria at school. Our gazes would meet for an instant before quickly turning away. I hadn’t told anyone about the kiss we shared the night of the dance. Oh, I’d thought about confessing to my boyfriend, Bryan, many times. But other than relieving my prickling conscience, I didn’t know what good it would do. Best to leave it alone and forget it.

But I couldn’t forget about it.

Cane obviously couldn’t either because the heat I felt radiating from him was enough to cause a sheen of sweat to break out under my coat.

Uh, hi, he said, without really looking at me. I, uh, brought these for Lony.

He stood for a moment, looking at the paper-wrapped bundle in his hands before awkwardly unwrapping it and placing the offering at the base of the stone next to my cupcake, the flame on the candle already out.

The flowers were white roses with sprigs of baby’s breath. They sat in a narrow glass vase decorated with purple ribbon. There was a small envelope tucked into the blossoms. I wondered what the card said.

Cane shuffled from foot to foot, neither of us speaking for a long moment. I thought about The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson where the host and his actor guests do something called the awkward pause. It’s really funny on the TV show. In real life? Not so much.

I gave in first, patting the ground next to me. You can take a seat if you want.

He let out an audible exhale and sat next to me, draping his arms over his raised knees.

Happy birthday, he said.

I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or my sister so I didn’t reply.

His emotions were all over the map, making my stomach roll with nausea. I reached deep inside myself and erected a mental block between us. It helped to block out the emotional vibes coming from him, but it did nothing to ebb my own nervousness.

How are you doing? I asked.

Fine. Well, not fine really, but I’ll be okay.

He didn’t need to explain. I didn’t know if any of us would ever be the same again. Last September, my sister was run over by a train. Cane and I both had front row seats. Him, because he was standing only feet from her. Me, because our psychic twin connection allowed me to see and feel the accident through Lony’s mind, the shock of which put me in a coma for three days and left me with a freakish ability to absorb the emotions of the people around me. I can release that emotional energy in the form of healing energy. I think. I was still trying to work it all out.

Are you going to run track this year? he asked. It was a typical small-talk type question with the obvious answer of yes, but I went with it. We had to start somewhere.

I guess. Bronwyn and I have been staying after school to run on the indoor track to make up for me missing the cross country season last fall.

Bronwyn’s going out for track? he asked with surprise.

Uh, no. I’m sure joining the track team would introduce her to all sorts of immoral associations, leading her astray from her good Christian path...or some crap like that. Pastor Tom would probably have an aneurism if he saw his daughter running around in our skimpy uniform.

The ghost of a grin traced Cane’s full lips. My best friend’s ultra conservative parents were well known around school. Their church had protested everything from the books we read in English class to our grossly inadequate sex-ed curriculum. It was not uncommon to see Pastor Tom or his wife hanging around the school administration offices, religious tracts in hand. I’m sure our principal loved their visits.

And how is Bryan? Cane asked with a hesitant whisper. Are you still together?

The question made me squirm. Not because of the question itself; more because I understood the true meaning behind it. Cane knew I was still with Bryan. He saw us every day at school eating lunch together. Our class at Dubuque Senior High was large, but people tended to hear enough on the grapevine to know who was dating who.

I arranged my expression into a mask of indifference.

Bryan’s great, I replied. "Dubuque is growing on him. Actually, he’s here today. Not here here, but here as in down in the parking lot waiting in the car."

Cane stiffened slightly. Yeah. I saw him when I came in.

Another awkward pause. The numbness from my butt spread through my legs all the way to my toes. For January in Iowa, the weather was nice. By nice, I mean not twenty below zero with a foot of snow on the ground. But even nice January weather isn’t conducive to sitting outside for long.

I better go—

Are we ever going to talk about it?

We spoke at the same time, our eyes finally meeting, the pale green of his irises locked on mine like a trap. I couldn’t turn away. My breath caught in my throat. His hand moved to fall heavy on the shoulder of my down coat.

I can’t talk about it, Cane. I-I don’t want to. It was wrong.

A fire lit in his expression as he ran his fingers down my arm and clutched my hand. His fingers were as cold as mine, but joined together they created kindled warmth. That warmth nudged on the mental barrier between us, trying to worm its way into my head. I was sure I would pay for it with a headache later.

His eyes shone with damp heat. Cady, I can’t stop thinking about that night. About our kiss.

"Not our kiss, I said, yanking my hand out of his and struggling to stand up on stiff legs. You kissed me. Big difference"

While that was true, we both knew I had kissed him back with a ferocity that stunned both of us, and the memory of which stung me with guilt whenever Bryan—my sweet, kind Bryan—brushed my lips with his.

You don’t have to go, Cane called, walking after me. I’ll leave. I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday or your time with Lony.

I stopped and turned to him. A shadow of shame and guilt clouded his face. It was the face of an angel, perfectly handsome and symmetrical. He was almost too beautiful to look at directly for fear of never getting his image off your burnt retinas. That shadow over his features looked grotesque and unnatural and immediately made me want to wipe it away.

Cane, I said, my voice breathy and low. We can’t do this. I know how you feel about me. I don’t get why, but I know your feelings are real.

Even if I could hide how I feel from you, I wouldn’t want to.

It doesn’t matter, Cane. I’m with Bryan.

Do you love him?

I mashed my lips together, felt my brow furrow. I didn’t know the answer to that question. What does love even mean to someone at seventeen? I heard kids at school tossing the L word around like it was nothing, even when they moved on to say it about someone else in a few short weeks later. Characters on TV and in books always seemed to find the one so easily and so quickly. They were absolutely certain that their life would never be complete without the other person. Did I feel that way about Bryan? I couldn’t be sure yet.

I don’t want to talk about Bryan with you. I don’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that there can never be anything between us.

I said it with more conviction than I felt. Cane must have seen a crack in my armor, because his eyes lit with something like hope. It leaked around the edges of my shield, sending a shiver down my neck. Cane stepped closer, his chest only a breath away from me. I stared at the hollow of his throat so I wouldn’t have to look up into his face. He touched a lock of my hair draped over my shoulder with one of his fingers.

There already is something between us, Cady. What we do about it is entirely up to you.

With that, he stepped away and headed toward the parking lot over the gently sloping hill. I followed because I had no choice. My limbs shook from the cold, and I wanted to go home. Once Cane was out of range, I lowered my mental block and allowed the headache to fill in behind my eyes.

From the crest of the hill, I saw Bryan sitting on the hood of his car, fiddling with his iPod. He looked up as Cane passed on his way to his truck and raised his hand in a wave. Cane nodded once at Bryan but continued on to his truck where he hopped in and drove out of the cemetery gates a little faster than necessary.

Bryan smiled at me making my way down the slope toward him. As I approached, he slid off the hood of his car and drew me into his embrace. I wound my arms around his waist under his long black jacket. Without the mental shield, the strength of his feelings for me bathed my soul in sunlight, warming me in ways no one else could. He rested his face on top of my head and inhaled deeply, as if memorizing the scent of my hair.

Want to talk about it? he asked.

At first I thought he was asking me about Cane, but no, he referred to my visit at my sister’s grave.

I don’t know, I sighed. I tried to talk to her, but it didn’t really feel like she was there, you know?

He pressed a kiss to my forehead. I know.

He did, too. Bryan’s brother Jesse had died two years earlier. In fact, we sort of bonded over both having lost siblings. Eventually, our friendship grew into something more.

Come on. Let’s get you out of the cold.

Bryan held my door open as I slid into the passenger seat. After getting in and turning on the car, he dialed the heater up as high as it would go and popped his iPod into the docking station. He placed the music on shuffle, reached for the case in his console and slid on a pair of black-framed glasses that he used when driving. Part of me wished he had to wear them all of the time. The glasses made him look cute in that sexy nerd sort of way.

Do you have time to grab some lunch, or do you need me to take you home?

I glanced at the clock in the dash. I better go home. Need to catch a nap before the big birthday dinner.

Bryan noted the sarcasm in my voice and patted my knee.

You’re welcome to join us, you know. It’s just going to be Dad, Aaron and me. My dad already assumes I invited you.

You sure? I don’t want to intrude. It’s your first birthday without your sister.

That’s even more reason for you to come. You’ll keep us from dwelling on it. Trust me. Just your presence makes me feel more relaxed. It was true. Over the last few months, as Bryan and I got closer, I discovered I could sense him deeper than other people. It was like I could touch something at the heart of him that was uniquely Bryan. If I were paying attention, I could sense him walking up behind me and know it was him without looking. My theory is everyone probably has a signature emotional vibe, like a finger-print, I just wasn’t skilled enough yet to identify them. I traced my hand up his arm to rest on his shoulder.

Glad I can be of service. What time do you want me to come over?

Six sound okay?

He snatched up my hand and placed a quick kiss on my palm before turning his attention back to the road.

I leaned my head back in the seat and let my eyes drift closed. Texodus by Dylan Sneed washed over me from the speakers. I hadn’t been sleeping well for months. Most nights I’d lie in bed, staring out my window at the moon until it’d float out of my vision. When I finally did drift off, I dreamed strange, restless visions of my sister and a forest and train whistles. I didn’t really have nightmares in the monsters and ghouls sense. Bad dreams for me were all flashes of images and twisted up emotions. Nothing with a coherent plotline. That morning I’d awakened at dawn in a cold sweat, my heart racing, and I barely made it to the bathroom before getting sick.

Bryan turned onto my street and guided the car over to the curb in front of my house. He shifted into park but didn’t switch off the ignition. A thread of something snaked through his usual feeling of calm catching my attention.

What is it? I asked.

Bryan chuckled and shook his head. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to your mind reading.

I can’t read your mind, I said slapping his arm playfully. I can just tell there’s something on your mind that is making you, I don’t know...anxious, maybe? Are you anxious?

No, he said, turning his body as well as his seatbelt would allow so he could face me. The grayness of the day caused his eyes to appear darker so I couldn’t distinguish the iris from the pupil. I could get lost in his eyes when they were like that. Do you want your present now or tonight?

Um, now, of course! I said with a laugh.

Bryan reached behind the passenger seat to retrieve his backpack. He rooted around through the notebooks and school texts before finding a pink envelope and handing it to me.

You had to pick pink? I said with a mock glare. I probably wouldn’t have had an issue with the color if it hadn’t been forced on me my whole life. People found it easier to tell Lony and me apart if Mom dressed her in purple and me in pink. Gag.

Hey, he chuckled. I liked the card! But hold up. Open this first. He handed me a velvet covered jewelry box with a bow stuck to the lid.

Isn’t it impolite to open the gift before the card?

Just do it.

I shrugged and popped open the box. Inside was a silver necklace with a pendant attached. I lifted the pendant to study it closer. A rose compass hung from a fleur-de-lis clasp. Another tiny fleur-de-lis formed the north point and a black stone set in the middle of the dial. It was delicate and detailed and beautiful.

I love it,’ I whispered. Does it work?

Bryan nodded. Here, let me put it on you.

I turned and lifted my hair while he fastened it around my neck.

Jesse gave it to me for my eleventh birthday. We used to play in the woods behind our house. He taught me how to use it so I could always find my way home. I wore it for years.

My fingers flew up to touch the compass. Are you sure you want to part with it?

He traced the side of my face with his fingers. It’s not going far. Besides, I haven’t worn it since he died. And now, hopefully, it will always lead you to me. His laughter at his own cheesiness caused a swell of warmth to fill my veins.

I leaned over the center counsel and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. I’m not going anywhere. His emotions washed over me like a warm ocean wave. Even though he hadn’t said it yet, I knew he loved me. Something deep in my chest stirred, and for once it was all me.

Open your card.

I sat back in my seat and slid my finger inside an open corner of the envelope, tearing it open. The front of the card was a picture of a skunk wearing a party hat and a tutu standing in front of a birthday cake. The animal shelter where I worked had taken in an orphaned litter of skunk babies recently. We had to keep them warm in an incubator and feed them with eye droppers. Dr. Kristy offered to de-scent one if I wanted to keep it for a pet. I asked Dad, but he refused to even consider it.

See how adorable skunks are? I held the picture up close to his face.

So I’ve heard, he laughed. Repeatedly.

I opened the envelope and a paper fell out. I picked it up and turned it over.

A spa gift certificate?

Yeah. I thought with all you’ve been through lately that a massage might do you good. Have you had one before?

I shook my head no.

Me neither, but my mom goes once a month. I think if money suddenly got tight, she’d go without food before giving up her standing massage appointment. I put enough on there for you to have your hair done or get a pedicure or something, too.

Oh, Bryan. I pulled him into a hug. "I love it. It feels like ages since I was