Half-Born (Half-Blood Chronicles #1) (The Half-Blood Chronicles) Read online

  Anger had transformed her entire face. In fact, I barely recognized her.

  And that scared me. “You’re right. I should have been more sensitive. I was just so upset by everything that was happening with Rain…”

  “That’s another thing.” Her tone was abruptly dry and businesslike. “I can’t deal with your drama anymore. I mean, we know you’re going through a lot right now, and everyone has tried to cut you some slack. But the truth is, no one wants to deal with your shit anymore.”

  I was walking out of the Cafeteria when I got the text from Rain.

  I guess u know by now that it’s over. No hard feelings rite?

  I stared down at the words through eyes blurred with tears. A couple of angry replies flashed through my mind. But I knew he wouldn’t read it.

  And so I deleted his text, and then the entire two-year chain of messages between us. Then I deleted his name and number from my phone.

  My old life was disappearing before my eyes.

  Chapter 8

  Friday was the pre-Homecoming pep rally, and all day long, no one even pretended to have anything else on their mind.

  After Monday, I had braced myself for a week of continuing humiliation. Instead, I became invisible.

  And so, while everyone else headed to the gym, I walked in the opposite direction.

  There was nothing in walking distance to White Falls High. Even the nearest crappy strip mall was a ten minute drive.

  But on a day like today, nothing suited me just fine.

  I crossed the two-lane highway and headed into the Silver Pond Forest Preserve.

  It wasn’t much—just a forest surrounding a small, muddy pond. There were a handful of benches and a single trail that looped around the water. When it was warm and sunny, people came here to smoke or hook up.

  Today, it was cool and damp, with the looming smell of a thunderstorm.

  The place was deserted.

  I had thought that getting away from school would clear my head. But the absence of the familiar cacophony—the banging of lockers, the dull roar of voices, even the shrill sound of the bell—was unsettling.

  In my mind’s eye, I saw Junie sitting next to Sydney at lunch.

  Last year, when Junie first started eating at our table, it was as though she’d appeared out of nowhere. Literally: I couldn’t recall anything about her before junior year. She’d been a nobody.

  Now she was Sydney’s best friend—and I was the one who didn’t exist.

  I walked faster, as though I could outrun my own unpleasant thoughts. But my mind seemed to be going in circles, and I always came back to the same place.

  If Dad were here, none of this would be happening.

  I didn’t usually let myself have that thought. Now it brought tears, as it always did.

  The path blurred before my eyes.

  Halfway around the pond, I noticed that I was being followed.

  For a second, I felt real fear.

  I hadn’t told anyone where I was going. With the chaos of the pep rally, it would be hours before anyone even noticed I was gone.

  Don’t be ridiculous. It was probably just another student. Someone else who wanted to escape the chaos of the pep rally.

  I sped up, anyway.

  After awhile, I glanced over my shoulder. The figure was even closer now—a tall, looming shadow. A guy.

  I tensed, ready to break into a run.

  Then I saw who it was.

  I sighed in irritation—and relief.

  Sol closed the distance between us and fell in step beside me. “Hello, Kes.”

  “What do you want?”

  “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

  “Why not?” I searched his eyes for some sign that this was a joke.

  “Because it’s not safe.”

  “And I’d be safer at a pep rally?”

  He stopped and turned to face me. “You’re safer wherever I’m around.”

  I nearly laughed. Then I remembered. “You’ve been telling people we—” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if people think they know what happened, they won’t ask questions.”

  “You didn’t have to make me sound like a slut! You could have said that we went out and I rejected you.”

  He grinned. “I do have a reputation to maintain.”

  We started to walk again, slowly ambling down the path as it veered away from the pond. The sky was overcast, darker than I would have thought possible at this hour.

  I shivered, suddenly grateful for Sol’s company.

  He’s getting to you.

  “How’s your mother, Kes?”

  I shot him a suspicious look, wondering if he was going to make some crack about my family.

  When I didn’t answer, he said, “Did you tell her what happened? At the party, I mean?”

  “No.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “And have you told her what’s going on at night?”

  I was sure I’d heard wrong. I hoped I’d heard wrong.

  But then I met his gaze, and saw the way he was studying me. Intent—and completely serious.

  He was talking about the hallucinations. Somehow, he knew.

  Impossible.

  I looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He laughed. I was so startled that I looked back at him.

  “God, Kes!” He was still grinning. “It’s like you’re not even trying to be convincing. If anyone actually suspected anything, you’d be screwed.”

  If anyone suspected what?

  That I was losing my mind?

  When the hallucinations first started back in junior year, I didn’t tell anyone.

  The closest I’d come had been one morning after a sleepover at Sydney’s. It had happened several nights in a row, and even in my sleep-deprived state, I couldn’t shake the buzzy, electric feeling that the hallucinations always left in their wake.

  I started to explain it to Sydney at breakfast—then realized that she was engrossed in her phone.

  But as I fell silent, Syd’s father took the seat across from me with his usual grapefruit and mug of green tea.

  “You’ve been having trouble sleeping?”

  I resisted the urge to look away. Dr. Sotheby’s crystal blue eyes were watching me in a way I found unnerving.

  Truth be told, Dr. Sotheby had always made me a little nervous.

  Now he smiled gently. “Forgive me for eavesdropping, but I thought I heard you telling Sydney that you’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

  I felt the heat creep up my neck. “I—I guess I’ve been drinking too much coffee. Studying for finals, you know.”

  He stared at me so long that I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

  Then he broke into an easy smile. “Of course, Kes. Caffeine may be legal, but it’s a powerful stimulant. You should try to take it easy.”

  I ducked my head and promised I would, relieved that the conversation was over. The last thing I needed was for my best friend’s father to think I was going crazy.

  “You’re not going crazy.”

  My head whipped up. “What did you say?”

  “I said you’re not going crazy, Kes.” Sol wore a patient smile. “I don’t know what you’re seeing at night. Everyone experiences Manifestation differently. But whatever it is, it’s not just in your head.”

  I stared. At some point, we had drifted to a stop. And now this conversation had taken a very weird turn.

  Sol found a decrepit wooden bench and sat. Numbly, I did the same.

  I opened and closed my mouth several times before speaking. And then, in a halting voice, I told him everything.

  Waking up in the middle of the night. The strange, shimmering air and the electric current that seemed to run under my skin afterwards.

  Sol nodded along, his expression serious.

  “How did you know?” I asked at
last.

  He smiled—a strange, secret smile. “Because you’re different, Kes.”

  “Different how?”

  “You’re like me.” His grin widened. “Magic.”

  I stared. Waiting for the punchline—or the explanation that would make all of this into something normal.

  But his face had grown serious. “What’s happening at night is only temporary. We call it Manifestation. Well, I call it magical puberty, but that never really caught on.”

  “Magical what?”

  “You’re experiencing the growth of a power. Something most people don’t have.”

  “Like what Nev did to those guys at the party?”

  “Kind of. Nev is sort of a special case. Most of us don’t get powers quite so…epic.”

  “So you’re telling me that magic is real? That I have magic?”

  “Or a mutation, if you prefer.” He was smirking now. “You don’t strike me as one of those girls into comic books. Ever watch The X-Men?”

  “So what do we get? Telepathy? Can I kill people with my eyes?”

  I had no idea why I was playing along. This entire discussion was crazy.

  Or, more likely, Sol’s idea of a joke.

  But I suddenly found that I didn’t care.

  Sol said, “There’s no way to know at this point. Powers seem to develop randomly—or at least according to some rules none of us has figured out yet.” He paused. “Something like telepathy is pretty rare, though. Even among our kind.”

  Our kind.

  I thought of what I’d seen at the party. Things I’d told myself were impossible.

  But, gazing at Sol, I wanted to believe.

  It was as though I were seeing him for the first time. He had an otherworldly beauty—something that came through in the subtle glow of his skin, the impossibly dark eyes that reflected years of experience. More than anyone our age should have.

  He was obviously special. And for once, I wanted to be special, too.

  All my life, I’d been ordinary. But if I had magic…

  No. Mom had done everything to hold our lives together. I couldn’t just run off to play with some shiny new life.

  But then I thought back to that strange conversation. Mom wanted to leave White Falls—after a lifetime of telling me that this was our home.

  Could she have suspected…?

  I pushed off the bench and started down the path.

  Sol was next to me in a heartbeat.

  I glanced at him. His face was still unnaturally sober.

  “Okay, let’s say I believe you. What do I do now?”

  He shook his head, his expression evasive. Like there was something he didn’t want to tell me. “Nothing. Not for now, anyway. I’ll come for you when it’s time.”

  “Time for what?”

  He didn’t answer right away. Again, I sensed that he was hiding something. “Time for your new life to really begin. For now…just go home. Take it easy.”

  “Go home? The bus doesn’t come for another two hours.”

  “I’ll drive you, of course.” He winked. “It’s the least I could do after all those naughty things everyone thinks we did.”

  For half a second, my jaw hung open. Then I laughed.

  He gave me a look of undisguised relief. “I really am sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you, sometime.”

  By the time he pulled up to the garish sign for Ionian Gardens, a soft rain had begun to fall.

  I started to climb out, but he stopped me. “Kes.”

  “What?”

  “You’re not going to the dance, are you?”

  For a moment, I was seized by the ridiculous notion that he was about to ask me to go to the dance with him.

  My heart sped up. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t go.” His voice was stern.

  “Why not? Are you afraid I won’t have a good time?”

  He smiled, and I had the unsettling feeling that he saw right through me. All the way to my secret fears—and desires.

  “We both know that if you go to that dance, you’ll only upset yourself. And we can’t have that, now can we?”

  It was good advice, probably.

  But even as I smiled back, I’d already decided to ignore it.

  Chapter 9

  The theme this year was “Paris Under the Stars,” and I had to hand it to the Homecoming Committee—they’d actually pulled it off.

  As I stood there under a huge cardboard Arc de Triomphe, a thousand twinkling lights washing over me, I felt—what?

  Up until now, I hadn’t felt so much as a flicker of hesitation. Not for a second, not even as I’d climbed aboard the city bus, ridiculously out of place in my torn black dress.

  This is really happening.

  That thought, more than anything else, made me pause.

  I was supposed to walk through these doors, hand-in-hand, with Rain. But as the bass-heavy music pulsed through the soles of my feet, that other life—the life that had been mine—already felt distant. Fading.

  Now I was here, alone.

  I smiled. Somehow, it felt right.

  All week long, I’d felt like a ghost lingering over my old life. Well, I wasn’t invisible anymore. Already, I could feel curious eyes following me as I waded into the crowd.

  One girl—judging by her orange creamsicle-colored dress, she had to be a freshman—stared at me in open-mouthed horror.

  Her gaze dropped to my feet, and I grinned.

  I hadn’t planned on wearing my boots to the dance. I’d dutifully carried my heels in a plastic grocery bag—all the way to the entrance of the school gym.

  At which point I’d realized I had no desire to wear those uncomfortable heels ever again. My Doc Martens were scuffed and caked with mud, but they felt reassuringly solid.

  And they kind of matched the dress.

  That wasn’t planned, either.

  I had stood in front of my bedroom closet earlier that evening, gazing at the dress I’d bought for Homecoming. It hung there, still in its translucent sheath—ready for the perfect evening that would never be.

  And then I’d walked over to my desk chair, where the dress from Syd’s party sat in a crumpled, slightly muddy pile. I’d picked it up and smiled.

  The freshman in the creamsicle dress was not the only one who stared.

  To be fair, I must have looked half-crazy.

  It wasn’t just the outfit. My hair, which hung loose down my back, had been whipped into a frenzy by tonight’s fierce winds.

  I didn’t care.

  No one would ignore me now. This was my life, and no one could take it away from me.

  Not Rain. Not Sydney. Not Sol.

  Not even my father, who had walked right out of it.

  It wasn’t hard to find Sydney. She was where she always was: at the center of attention. She was holding court with her date, her blond hair piled high atop her head, her mouth open with laughter.

  That was the thing about being Sydney’s best friend. I’d gotten used to being noticed second.

  In school, boys’ eyes always went to Sydney first. Even Rain had always seemed a little distracted whenever she was around.

  The only exception was Sol Kyrion. I had felt his eyes on me long before we’d been introduced. Even when I was standing right next to Syd, his dark gaze kept returning to me.

  Finally, she noticed me. I waited for her reaction. Would she just scowl at me, or would she cut through the crowd so she could tell me off?

  She did neither. Her deep blue eyes, cold and baleful like some ancient Goddess’s, stared right through me. Like I wasn’t even there.

  I felt a slow, tingling anger.

  Who was she to tell me I didn’t belong?

  Rain and Angela were up near the front, where the DJ was set up. Kissing in front of a cardboard cut-out of the Eiffel Tower.

  Neither of them noticed me—until I tapped Angela on the shoulder.

  I smiled sweetly. “Mind if I cut in?”


  Angela’s face scrunched up in outrage. But Rain looked confused.

  “Kes? What are you doing here?”

  He was staring at me intently, as though he genuinely didn’t know why he was here with Angela instead of me.

  His reaction threw me off, and I felt the first sliver of doubt.

  Then he scowled. “What are you trying to prove, Kes?”

  Angela’s fingers curled around his neck. “You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

  I searched Rain’s face—but the confusion was gone.

  He said, “You need to go, Kes.”

  “Yeah.” Angela smirked. She seemed to be relishing this moment. “Go back to your trailer park, or whatever.”

  As I walked away, my anger grew. It felt like a living force now, palpable and reassuring.

  The world seemed to sharpen around me—as though the anger lent clarity to everything.

  But then the air seemed to thicken. Now it was suffused with light and shimmering.

  Oh, no.

  It was happening again.

  Here. Now.

  It was different this time. In Sol’s Range Rover, I’d felt a sense of peace. Now I felt hollow, as though a vast cold emptiness had opened up inside of me.

  For a moment, I was afraid. And then something came rushing in to fill the void.

  Energy—strange and alien. It seemed to transform my whole being.

  Magic. This was my magic.

  It wanted to take control—and I let it.

  Sol had said there was no way to know what my power would be, or when it would be fully developed. But I was sure that this was it.

  And I liked it.

  At one of Sydney’s fifth-grade sleepovers, she’d made us all watch Carrie. I hadn’t wanted to.

  Syd had hissed in my ear, in that tone she used when she’d grown impatient with my timidity, “Come on Kes. It’s not that scary.”

  What scared me the most wasn’t the other kids’ cruelty. It was Carrie’s anger—and her desire for revenge.

  When the gym burned down, I ran to the bathroom and didn’t come out again until Syd sent Lacey to tell me the movie was over.

  Now, Carrie’s anger no longer scared me. I knew how she felt.

  I wanted fireworks. Scary fireworks.