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MOONDANCERS

Book One

The Beautiful Creatures of Beverly Hills

### E. Van Lowe

Moondancers

Published by  EViL E Books

a division of Sweet Lorraine Productions Publishing, Inc.

Copyright © 2016 E. Van Lowe

Edited by SolaFide Publishing & Camille Pollock

Art direction by Jim Seidelman

Formatting by Polgarus Studio

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ASIN: B01BPKEPK4

ISBN:--

Library of Congress Control Number: --

To request permission to reprint any portion of the book, e-mail info@evanlowe.com and in the subject heading, write the name of the book.

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There was no decision to dive into the pool._

I did it without thinking. One moment I was standing on the edge of the gym floor, peering into the murky waters, and then, I was in.

I kicked down toward the commotion in the deep. The water was cold, even for a hot summer's night, and I felt a shiver ripple my belly.

The weight of my water logged clothing dragged against the buoyancy of the water, preventing me from going down. I kicked harder, pointed my head like a projectile, and I finally got moving.

I didn't see the creature, but I could feel pressure from the churn of struggle beneath me, and after a while I saw the eyes, just as I'd seen them skulking in the drain of Alan's backyard pool. They were emerald green, and they were angry.

I swam toward the angry eyes, and my struggling friend came into view. I arrived, and latched onto the claw that was clinging to his side. The claw was hard like a conch shell. I wrapped both my hands around the pincer, and yanked on it with all my might, expelling a tiny bit of air as I did. After several moments of struggle, the claw reluctantly released, and I was able to pull Alan free.

I corralled him in my arms, spun him around and pushed him up toward the surface. He began rising slowly like a figure in an underwater dream sequence. He wasn't swimming. There were no arm movements, no leg kicks. Still, he was rising, a foot or so every few moments, getting closer to the surface.

Swim, I thought. Swim, dammit!

Something latched onto my ankle from below.

I peered down and could see the creature in all his hideousness, pulling me into the depths of the pool. I tried to kick, but all that got me was searing pain in my right ankle. Fresh blood appeared in the water.

Mine, no doubt.

_The creature continued pulling me down, trying to drown me. The pressure of the water pressed against my chest. I needed to get free. I needed to get to the surface._ _I needed to breathe._

### Prologue

"No one of any value lives south of the Boulevard."

That's what a ridiculous old lady once told my father. She was looking down her nose at him at the time. Would you believe the words of an old biddy drenched in diamonds and Chantilly lace changed everything? Everything.

Dad was attending a town hall meeting, there to protest yet another hotel going up in our beloved community of Beverly Hills.

The lady, and I use the term loosely, was sent to the meeting by the company who wanted to build the hotel. She lived in our community, but she'd been compromised. The hotel people had promised her a handsome payment to disrupt the meeting—probably a bunch of coupons for the early bird special at Denny's. They even offered her a bonus if the hotel got built.

We didn't know any of this at the time—no one at the meeting did, and so her words pierced my father's heart like an arrow. No man wants to be told he's not good enough, especially when deep in his heart he believes it might be true.

Our family home, you see, is south of Wilshire Boulevard in what we insiders laughingly call the slums of Beverly Hills. We south of the boulevard dwellers don't live in mansions, or on acres of land. Our homes don't have maid's quarters, or guest houses, or twelve car garages. Ours are the homes of young executives, and budding stars on their way up, or failed executives and actors who hadn't quite hit the big time, on their way down.

Yet there's another breed of folk who live south of the boulevard—Us, the working class, who live in overpriced, cramped homes on small lots, not because we want the distinction of claiming to live in one of America's most affluent communities, but because our working class parents want their children to go to the best schools, and in our neck of the woods, there is no high school better than Beverly Hills High.

A public school education in Beverly Hills is equivalent to getting educated at one of the best private schools in the country. My friends and I went to school with some of the richest kids in the world. And the best part, it was all free—sort of. There's always a price to pay.

The way my folks saw things, a Beverly Hills education was well worth the high cost of food in our community, along with living in a cramped, overpriced home.

Yet, if there was one thing our tiny working class homes had in common with the ritzy homes across Wilshire Boulevard, it was swimming pools. Beverly Hills is chockablock with swimming pools—even the slummy parts. There are nearly twenty-five hundred pools in the city of Beverly Hills. That works out to be one pool for every one and a half people. The crazy thing is, most of the pools go unused. They're more for status, than for swimming. Go figure.

Me and my friends got good use out of the swimming pools of Beverly Hills. We swam; we swam a lot.

The summer I turned sixteen would be spent very much like the summers I turned thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen, pool hopping from house to house with the guys in my crew, playing, swimming, arguing, eating Mulberry Street pizza and Carney's hot dogs, and dreaming of what our lives would be like once we finally escaped living under our parents' roofs.

Or, so I thought.

As it turned out, my sixteenth summer was very different from the all the summers that had come before, or after, for that matter.

That summer there would be a girl.

That summer there would be a creature.

That summer there would be an awakening.

And before the start of my junior year, there would be death.

I never saw any of it coming.

##

### Chapter One

Conner Halsey, dipstick that he was, stood on the diving board yelling cannonball at the top of his lungs.

"Cannonbaaaaall!" he screamed for the third time.

Instead of jumping in the pool, Conner stayed planted on the diving board, eyes glued to the five foot hedge at the far end of the yard.

We were in my best friend, Alan's backyard. The Feinmans lived in the biggest home on the block. They didn't own the home. They were renters. The Feinmans once owned a large home three blocks from here, but when the stock market took that humongous nosedive several years ago, Alan's stockbroker father's fortunes plummeted along with the market. While the stock market returned to form a few years later, Alan's father's fortunes never did.

The hedge that had taken hold of Conner's attention that morning was at the property line separating the Feinman home from the home next door. The home next door was occupied by a new family—the Duprees, and somewhere on the other side of that hedge, we all knew (or hoped) was a sixteen year-old raven-haired beauty. Alexia Dupree.

Alexia had lived next door to Alan for just three weeks, and during the course of those three weeks, Alan, Conner, and I had each developed serious crushes on her, despite the fact we'd barely uttered a word in her presence. In fact, you could have crammed every word the three of us had ever said to Alexia Dupree into one sentence—a very short sentence.

"Jump, already," I called. " _Cannonball_ should be followed by a splash that sounds like a cannonball."

"Fuck off, Buttface," Conner called back.

The "Buttface" remark was a play on my last name—Butters. Josh Butters. I'd been enduring insults on my name since grade school. Some days it was Buttbreath, or Buttstink, or Butt-of-the-joke. One kid back in the eighth grade came up with my favorite, the very imaginative, Mrs. Butterworth. As embarrassing as it was, that one made me laugh.

"Hey! No cursing. My mother hears you curse, she'll kick us all out," Alan warned.

"That's all right with me," Conner replied with fake bravado. "Yours' is not the only swimming pool in Beverly Hills."

I started to say: _It's the only swimming pool in Beverly Hills next door to Alexia Dupree,_ but that would have worked against us all, since not one of us was willing to admit that Alexia was the reason we were gathered around Alan's pool at ten a.m. on a summer morning rather than catching up on our beauty sleep. We were keeping our crushes on Alexia secret. It was the worst kept secret in all of Beverly Hills.

"Just jump, already," I called.

"That's what I'm fixin ta do," Conner replied, his eyes still on the hedge.

Lately, Conner had been _fixin'_ _ta do_ this and _fixin'_ _ta do_ that, as if his roots were in the deep South instead of Minnetonka, Minnesota.

We all knew it was because during Conner's summer drama workshop, word had leaked out that the fall play was going to be _To Kill a Mockingbird_ , and Conner was making silent claim to the role of Atticus Finch.

"What are you waitin' for then?" came a small and, dare I say, delightful voice from the other side of the hedge, followed by a giggle.

"Huh?" said Conner, and nearly fell off the diving board.

"Some of us are trying to read over here, and I suppose we're not going to get anything close to quiet until you're finished with your _cannonballing_ ," replied the as of yet unseen, Alexia.

"So, what are you waitin' for?" asked a second, softer voice, the one belonging to the giggle.

The fact that there were two young ladies on the other side of that hedge got us all excited, the sound of that second voice kicking our imaginations into high gear. If the possessor of that second voice looked anything like Alexia, we'd hit the jackpot.

That's when the music started to play, a lilting tune being played on a harp, or maybe a sitar. I'm not up on my ancient musical instruments.

"What is that weird music your mother just put on?" I asked, my gaze moving to the sliding glass door.

"What music?" asked Alan. He glared at me for an annoyed nanosecond before his gaze ventured back to the hedge.

"The belly dancing music. Is your mom taking belly dancing classes, because if she is, Dude, that's embarrassing?"

Alan shot me another annoyed look, making it clear the beauties on the other side of the hedge were far more interesting than any belly dancing music.

"Who all's over there?" Conner called, dipping back into his version of a southern accent. He stood on his tip-toes, trying to a clear view of Alexia's backyard.

"Jump in, and maybe you'll find out," the mystery voice called back.

That was enough for Conner.

"Cannonbaaaall!" he hollered for the fourth time, then he bounced up on the board, tucked his legs, and entered the water with the most ungraceful buttflop imaginable, producing a tremendous splash that sent half the water sloshing out of the pool on entry.

I had to hand it to him. It was a good one—a perfect cannonball. Alan and I were left completely drenched by its wake, but we didn't care. We were staring at the hedge, drenched in pool water, grinning back, waiting for two lovely faces to appear. After a few moments, we were rewarded when Alexia Dupree peeked over.

She was every bit as beautiful as I remembered. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Now maybe we can get back to reading," she said. Her green bathing suit top set off the iridescent blue of her eyes. She hit us with what I can only describe as a sly grin, as if she were a spider, toying with a couple of flies before swallowing them whole.

The sound of her voice, the blue of her eyes, the slyness of that smile, along with the sheen created by the sun on her raven hair got my heart beating faster. I imagine the same was happening with Alan as neither of us said a word.

"Whatcha readin'," I finally managed. Two more words added to the lexicon of language we three had uttered to Alexia in the three weeks since she lived next door.

"A book." Alexia's grin widened as she danced along her web, toying with her flies.

"I like books."

That was Alan. In the nearly one minute since Alexia had appeared, _that_ was the best he could manage. _I like books_?

Alan was at his verbal best when he thought he sounded like an old school action hero. He was smart enough to realize that _I'll be back_ or _Say hello to my little friend_ wouldn't win him much favor with the likes of Alexia. So, _I like books_ would have to do.

"He's under awfully long, don'tcha think?" Alexia said, her smile fading.

Our collective attentions moved back to the pool. Since Alexia had appeared on the other side of the hedge, Conner had been totally forgotten. Now, we three were staring at large air bubbles making their way to the surface of the water.

He _had_ been down a bit long for a cannonball, and it looked as though he were struggling beneath the surface. In a flash, Alan tore off his tee shirt and dove in.

I didn't move. I looked back over at Alexia and shot her a weak smile. "He's probably just messin' around," I said in an attempt to reassure her.

If the word _loser_ could actually appear on someone's eyeballs, it would have appeared right then on both of Alexia's. "Sure," she said dryly, and then her eyes were again on the water.

When I looked back, Conner was being dragged to the edge of the pool, but not by Alan. A girl had pushed Conner up to the edge of the pool. _Where the hell did she come from?_ Alan helped Conner out of the water and onto the deck.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Conner said, slapping at Alan's hands on him. "I was just messin' around," he said, embarrassed that a girl had maybe saved his life.

"Are you sure?" the girl asked. I recognized the voice as being on the other side of the hedge along with Alexia Dupree moments earlier.

"Heck, yeah! I was just trying to get you over here," Conner said. "Looks like my plan worked," he added with a grin. "What's your name?" he said in an attempt to spit some game.

"Lara," she replied, her voice going soft and tremulous like an Ellie Golding song. She seemed shy.

You've gotta hand it to girls for humility. If I'd just pulled a hundred and eighty pound dude from a swimming pool, I'd have been pounding my chest as if I'd just kicked the winning goal in the World Cup.

Lara wasn't the raving beauty Alexia was. Her beauty was understated. Quiet beauty. She wasn't the girl guys hollered at from moving cars, or tried to pick up at bus stops. She was small, under five feet, with an athletic build, shoulders like a gymnast. Her blond hair was cut short, and right now the pool water had slicked it back against her head. She was wearing shorty shorts and a white tee that made her the first ever entrant into the Alan Feinnman wet tee shirt contest.

With no makeup, she affected the look of a young boy. Her eyes were deep green, and brooding. She was the girl who mostly went unseen, but on that July morning in Alan's yard, I saw her, and when I did, a switch inside me clicked on.

Alexia Dupree came trotting up the back walkway. "Maybe we should take him to the hospital," she called, her voice ringing out in alarm.

"Stop it, will ya! All I was fixin' ta do was get you both over here," Conner said. He was trying his best to smirk, but I could tell he was embarrassed.

"You're bleeding," Alexia said as she arrived poolside.

I had yet to move from my lounge chair. Alexia shot a quick glance at me as she hurried past. It wasn't the dismissive glance I was expecting. She seemed troubled. Yeah, I know, my friend is on the pool deck nearly drowned, of course she's troubled, but the look on her face implied something other than that, something guarded, and secret.

It would be the first, but not last time I got the feeling there was something strange going on with these girls.

Speaking of girls, I still couldn't figure out where Lara had come from, how she got from the other side of a five foot hedge and into Alan's pool without anyone seeing her, least of all, the guy who still hadn't moved from his lounge chair.

I finally got off my butt, and trailed Alexia over to where Conner was sitting on the pool deck.

There were three jagged crimson scratches trailing along Conner's right calf. Blood flowed freely from the wounds.

"Sorry. I must've scratched you when I pulled you out," Lara said, again with the soft, tremulous voice.

"I'm going inside to get the first aid kit. If my mother comes out here while I'm gone, pretend nothing happened," Alan announced, then he exited into the house through the sliding glass door.

"Umm, yeah. No problem," said Conner, then he rolled his calf to the side, hiding it from view. "So, Alexia, welcome to our humble abode."

"You don't live here."

"I see you've been keeping tabs on me," Conner replied, a grin widening across his face.

"Who are you?" I blurted. I was staring at Lara. Yeah, I know it was blunt of me to call her out like that, but I was curious about her, even if no one else was.

"She's my cousin, Lara," Alexia said. "She lives nearby."

I was staring at Lara, who hadn't said a word, and didn't seem inclined to. I noticed she had a small, jagged scratch on her face.

"Looks like you scratched yourself as well," I said, pointing.

Lara touched the scratch on her cheek. She looked at the blood on her finger tips, her eyes widening ever so slightly.

"When Alan comes back with the first aid kit, he should tend to you first," Conner said to Lara. Then, he smiled over at Alexia. The perfect southern gentleman.

"I didn't see you come over the hedge," I said. "I didn't see you come up the walkway, either." I know I should have dropped the line of questioning, or at least waited until everyone's wounds had been treated, but for some reason, I couldn't. Something deep inside was pushing me, pushing me like I'd never been pushed before to confront the girl. "You must be pretty fast to—"

"I better go," Lara blurted, and sprang to her feet. She shot Alexia a withering glance, and started toward the walkway that ran alongside the house.

"What the F, Dude!" Conner exclaimed.

"What? What did I do?" I didn't see her come over the hedge. Did you?"

"I was under the water, Dipstick!" His eyes quickly moved to Alexia. "Pretending, of course."

Just then, Alan trotted from the house concealing the first aid kit under an armload of beach towels. He looked around.

"What happened to Lara?"

As if they were members of a well-oiled synchronized swim team, both Conner and Alexia turned and looked at me.

I jogged up the walkway, past my bike lying next to Conner's on the lawn, and out to the street. The bike was going to stay on the lawn. I was two weeks away from my sixteenth birthday, and figured when I rolled up on a cute girl like Lara for the first time it needed to be in a car, and not on a two wheeler like some middle school kid. Half my class was already driving. No way was I going after her on a bicycle.

I looked down the quiet, tree lined street, past the small but meticulously manicured lawns, toward Gregory Way. A gardener a few doors down was loading his lawn mowing equipment back onto his truck. Aside from the gardener, the street was empty. I turned and gazed in the opposite direction, up toward Charleville Boulevard. I spotted her, walking quickly, wrapped in the beach towel she'd plucked from a deck chair before heading out.

I began trotting after her, trying to come up with what I'd say when I caught up to her. Knowing I'd have to string at least a few long sentences together, a lump formed in my throat.

_Hey, Lara, why don't we go to The Coffee Bean and talk this misunderstanding through over an ice-blended dark chocolate._ That's what my older brother, Troy, would've said, and then he'd've winked at her, and flashed his winning smile. Troy got all the smooth genes in our family—every single one.

At least I couldn't say he got all the looks since we looked so much alike: same curly brown hair, same brown eyes. No way you wouldn't think we were brothers. Unfortunately, our similarities ended with looks.

What I lacked in smoothness, however, I made up for in... nothingness. There was absolutely nothing that could make up for the fact I had no game. This was made even sadder when I considered my two best friends, Alan and Conner. As pathetic as their rap games were, theirs were head and shoulders above mine.

Just then, the music started again—the same music I'd heard earlier in Alan's backyard, the same ancient song. It was a haunting melody, strange yet familiar, like something from an old Star Trek episode.

I began looking around for a car. A BMW convertible rolled by bumping some serous hip hop. _No, that's not it._ I looked toward the beautiful yet modest homes that lined the street. They looked back in silence.

Then it dawned on me. The music wasn't coming from a car radio, or a neighbor's backyard. The music was inside my head.

### Chapter Two

I didn't have time to focus on the music just then. Lara was approaching the corner, about to cross Charleville. I got the feeling if I let her get away, I'd never see her again. I couldn't let that happen. At that moment, seeing Lara again was the most important thing in the world.

I closed the distance between us. We were entering a busy area. If I called her name and everyone on the street looked at me but her, I'd probably slink down one of the storm drains that lined the side of the street and die.

"Lara!" I called, not too loud, but hopefully, loud enough.

She slowed. Then she stopped, turned around, and faced me.

Okay, what now, Playa?

I continued toward her not saying anything. Truth is, I couldn't think of anything to say. She was standing there staring at me, and my heart felt as though it was filling with knots, bunching up in my chest. I know this is going to sound strange, but as I approached Lara, I felt myself caring for her more and more.

Yes, I know, the only words I'd ever spoken to her were _Who are you?_ and _I didn't see you come over the hedge,_ proof that I've got no game. Yet, I felt this weird sensation of falling for her just the same.

"What?" she said, as I arrived at her side. She placed her hands on her hips, and crooked her neck.

"I, umm... apologize," I said. Okay, nothing special, but not a bad way to break the ice.

"You're a jerk," she said.

I did not see that one coming _. Hey, at least she didn't walk away. Now, what would Troy say?_

"Jerks are people, too," I replied, then I smiled at her.

Lara turned on her heels and started across the street, letting me know the words I just uttered were more than likely the opposite of what Troy would have said. So glad I didn't wink at her. She might've popped me one, right in the nose.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I just want to be your friend, Lara. Can't we start over?" I called after her, and now people on the street _were_ looking at me. I could have kicked myself for sounding so weak and pathetic, but to be honest, I didn't have a choice. The words just tumbled out of me.

At that moment, a most awesome thing happened. When Lara reached the far side of the street, she turned back toward me, and there was the tiniest of smiles lighting up her face.

"I guess," she said in that soft, tremulous tone I'd soon come to love.

I started across the street, and as I crossed, I told myself not to think, not to plan what to say next, and definitely not to wink at her. _Just let it come naturally_. It had worked so far.

"So, how _did_ you get in Alan's pool without me seeing you?" I asked as I arrived.

Lara's smile faded. It was like watching the sun setting on a perfect day. One moment it was there in all its radiant glory, and then it wasn't.

Lara turned, and without a word, politely walked away. She didn't pop me in the nose. I guess I should have been grateful for that. I didn't follow. I looked on as she moved up the street.

She reached the end of the block, and started across Wilshire Boulevard, never once looking back. Watching her go, I felt as though an ice cube had lodged in my heart, growing larger the further she moved away.

The song was fading as well, growing fainter and fainter, and when I could no longer hear the music, I knew I'd lost out on something exciting and special.

_She's right, Josh old boy,_ I thought as Lara disappeared from view. _You really are a jerk._

### Chapter Three

Conner didn't show up at Alan's the next morning.

We figured he decided to catch up on his beauty sleep, while at the same time taking the morning to lick his wounds. Alan and I silently understood that whether Lara had saved Conner's life or not, it was embarrassing being pulled from the pool by a girl. He needed to put some distance between himself and the incident.

When Conner didn't show up at Yogurt Hill later in the afternoon, we started getting worried. Yogurt Hill was one of the most popular yogurt emporiums in all of weight conscious Beverly Hills. On any given day, you could see as many movie and pop stars going in and out of Yogurt Hill as you could at an awards show.

Conner loved going to Yogurt Hill, especially between three and five on weekday afternoons when Yogurt Hill was crawling with cute, high school girls. In fact, we'd long stopped calling our favorite yogurt shop Yogurt Hill.

To us, it was privately known as _Yo, Mama Hill_. Whenever we were sitting there scarfing yogurt, and a sexy twelfth grader would walk past in a short skirt or a top that revealed some serious boobage, one of us would whisper, _Yo, Mama_ with as much sexual innuendo as was humanly possible.

The girl, of course, had no idea we were doing this. We three Lotharios kept our lechery private. Let's face it, if one of those cool girls ever spoke to us, it was a safe bet we'd each start babbling like certifiable idiots.

Alan and I waited outside Yo, Mama Hill for twenty minutes. When Conner didn't show, we hustled over to his house.

Conner lived with his Dad and Stepmom. He never talked about his real mother, and we didn't ask. He had two older stepsisters. They were both lookers, but they treated him like crap, and me and Alan as if we were the crap the crap crapped out.

The sisters were very close. The oldest, Sara, got a car when she turned eighteen, a used Mustang convertible. The two of them, Sara and Annalise, would roll around Beverly Hills in that Mustang as if they were movie stars. They'd see us walking home, but do you think they ever offered us a ride? Guess they didn't want any crap on the upholstery.

We took to calling them bitches on wheels. It was a joke that never got old, and it eased the pain of how badly they treated us. It made the bad treatment laughable. There goes the bitches on wheels. _Yuk, yuk._

When we got to Conner's, we found him hidden away in his bedroom, plopped in front of his computer, playing video games.

"What are ya doin' here?" he asked. He seemed annoyed.

"The mamas at Yo, Mama Hill are demanding your presence," I said with a knowing grin.

Conner smiled, not looking up from the computer screen. It was a wistful smile. "I had a dream last night, and I couldn't shake it," he said.

"Was it a wet dream?" Alan chimed with a chuckle.

Not being one to let a good insult opportunity pass, I said: "Is the _it_ you couldn't shake still sticky in your pants?"

Both Alan and I got a real kick out of that one. We fell on the bed laughing, our eyes bubbling with tears until we realized Conner was finally looking at us, and he wasn't laughing. He wasn't even smirking. He didn't holler _shut up, Buttface!_ He was staring at us with a far off look in his eye.

"I was under the water in your pool, Dude, holding my breath. I really was trying to get the girls next door to come over into your yard."

"I know," replied Alan, not sure where this was headed.

"In the dream, I was under for maybe ten seconds when I saw a dark shadow emerge from the pool drain above me and to the right. Actually, it wasn't a shadow. That's what I thought it was at first. It was a claw, reaching for me out of the drain," he said in an ominous tone. "There were eyes in that spillover drain, guys. Emerald green, and angry."

"So, you had a dream. Did you have a hot dog before you went to bed? Remember the dreams you had last time you went to Carney's before bedtime?" Alan asked.

Conner shook his head. "That's the thing. I know it was a dream, but it was also a memory. I was remembering what really happened in the pool yesterday."

Just then, I thought of Lara, about how she appeared in the pool without me seeing how she got there. I wasn't ready to believe something out of a fantasy novel had occurred in Alan's swimming pool, so I said nothing.

"I saw something," Conner said. "I saw something when I was down there."

"Yeah, you saw something, all right. You saw a girl in the water saving your sorry ass," Alan said, trying to lighten things up.

Conner was shaking his head. "I saw a claw," he said, his tone insistent. He ran his hand gingerly across the bandage on his right calf.

"Come on, Dude. You need to go for a swim, that's all. Who knows, maybe Alexia Dupree will stop by to see how you're doing," I said, trying a new tact.

Conner shook his head. "No pools for me for a while," he said. Then he went back to his game.

Conner could not be coaxed out of his house all afternoon. We tried telling him that sometimes dreams feel real, but they're still dreams. We tried reasoning with him that if there was a creature hiding in Alan's pool drain we would've seen it by now. I mean, how could it have gotten there? Why would it be there? Nothing worked.

On that day, there was no reasoning with Conner. Not that he could be reasoned with on any other day, but on that day, Conner dug in like a hermit crab, burying himself beneath the sand on Venice beach, and there was no way we were getting him to come out.

"What do ya think?"

We were once again in Alan's backyard, loafing on the lounge chairs alongside the pool, staring into the clear blue rippling water when Alan asked the question.

I'd been mulling over the incident ever since Conner revealed his dream. "About what?" I asked, hanging back.

"Conner's dream. You think he made up the story because he doesn't want to admit that a girl saved him?"

It was late afternoon, and the sun glinted off the pool creating eerie shafts of bright light beneath the surface.

"Normally, I'd say yes, but not this time. He seemed..." I searched for the right word. "Scared."

"He _is_ an actor," Alan countered. "Conner will go to great lengths not to look like a dipstick."

"He always looks like a dipstick," I said. "Can't help himself."

We both chuckled at that one, although the pleasure we usually got from razzing one another wasn't there this time. While neither of us wanted to admit it, we were both concerned about him. We'd never seen Conner acting so strange before.

Alan got up, and started toward the pool.

"Where ya goin'?" I asked, although I already knew. My heartbeat quickened.

"He says he saw it in the pool drain at the deep end of the pool."

Alan reached the edge of the pool deck, and peered into the water. He stooped.

"Don't!" I said. I was on my feet, but not moving toward the pool. "It was just a dream," I called.

"I know."

He leaned over toward the pool drain.

"What are you guys doin'?" Alexia Dupree called from the other side of the hedge.

Her head appeared just above the tall shrubbery. She was smiling a smile that could melt any guy's heart, but that day, it didn't melt mine. All it did was make me wonder if Lara was somewhere on the other side with her.

"Just hangin,'" Alan said, stepping away from the pool's edge. He was trying to sound cool and suave while not venturing past the safety of the three word limit.

"Are you looking for something in the pool?" Alexia asked.

Alan continued away from the pool and toward the hedge. "Just checking the water temperature. It's perfect. Wanna go for a swim?" he asked, making his first journey past three words. I suspected the babbling was about to begin. Good thing Alexia changed the subject.

"Not today. Say, you guys want to go to a party?" she asked.

Alan shot me a look that said we'd just struck the motherlode.

"Yes!" he answered without hesitation.

"Will Lara be there?" I asked.

Alexia's smile disintegrated. "Probably. Why? You got some new insults for her?"

Ouch!

"She told me what happened yesterday, Josh."

"Just asking," I said, too embarrassed to say anything more.

"Stay away from my cousin," she said pointedly. "She's not interested."

I nodded, my head bobbing up and down like a bobblehead.

"The party's up in Benedict Canyon. You boys can pick me up around ten," she said, then she dropped back down, and out of sight. "I'll be out front," she called from behind the hedge.

Alan Shot me a look, and I knew what he was thinking: _No way are we taking Alexia Dupree to a party in one of the most upscale neighborhoods of Beverly Hills on our bicycles._

"I can't steal my mother's car, Alan."

"You won't be stealing it. You'll be borrowing the family car—which is actually one quarter yours—to go to a party. You're two weeks away from getting your license anyway, Dude. Grow a pair, already."

"What if I get in an accident?"

"You know, and I know, you're not getting in any accident. This is our shot, Butters. This is our chance to have Alexia Dupree all to ourselves. No Conner getting in the way with his lame-o jokes and fake southern accent. It'll be just you, and me—best man wins."

He was grinning at me as if he'd suddenly become a great orator, like Clarence Darrow, and had just made the winning argument in the Scopes Monkey trial (for information on The Scopes Monkey Trial see footnote 1— _psyche!)._

Three days ago, what Alan said would have made a good argument. Three days ago, I would have jumped at the chance to hold a conversation that lasted longer than three words with Alexia Dupree. That was before I found myself infatuated with a girl who I knew wanted nothing to do with me.

"Both of your parents are in bed by ten," Alan went on. "We push the car out of the driveway and onto the street so they don't hear it starting up. By the time we get home, your parents'll be sound asleep, and none-the-wiser.

"I'm two weeks away from bein' legal. You realize if they find out, I will probably lose my driving privileges for another year," I said, trying to reason with him. "We need to think about the future."

"We need to think about tonight!" Alan barked, his eyes going wide and wild. "Why are you being so negative about this? Don't you want a shot at Alexia Dupree?"

The answer was _no_ , I didn't want a shot at Alexia Dupree. But I did want another glimpse of her cousin, Lara, even if I didn't have a chance with her, even if she didn't say a word to me.

I sighed deeply, and Alan knew he'd worn me down.

"Par-tay," he said, grinning back.

Borrowing my mother's Camry was the easy part.

The hard part for me was the deception. I didn't like lying to my parents. It was the words of a liar that had changed everything for us.

When we were younger, Stan Butters was the perfect Dad, playing catch with his sons on the lawn, going to our Little League games. He even coached Troy's soccer team one year. That was before the town hall meeting.

My Dad had been a sales rep for a large Beverly Hills security company that secured the homes of the stars. When he came in from the meeting that night he realized he'd been in the same position for ten years—ten, long years, and he was no closer to being a star than he was when he got there.

I guess he reasoned he should have been running things by then. If he were running things, we'd be living on the ritzy side of Wilshire Boulevard, but because we were still living in the house where I grew up, he began to see himself as a failure. Our lives went downhill from there.

It was a lying old biddy that had reduced my father to the beaten man he was today. Lying was not easy for me.

Yet on that night, there was something bubbling inside me that made the lying not only easy, it made it worthwhile. A crazy, unreasonable emotion was gripping my heart, and the tighter it held, the easier it was for me to lie, the more the lying made sense.

Alexia was waiting out front when we pulled up at ten-oh-five in my mother's Camry. As soon as we turned the corner, I heard Alan's breath catch.

She was a sight to behold, wearing a red dress that clung to her as if she'd been dipped in bright red honey. It wasn't the kind of thing you'd think of for a pool party, and yet it was perfect. The top half of the dress was sheer enough that you could see Alexia's black bra through the filmy fabric while imagining you could see whole lot more. Her long dark hair now had blond highlights running through it. The bottom half of the dress was short enough to show off her legs, while at the same time titillating a young man's imagination about the wonders that lay just above the hemline. It was a goddess dress, and Alexia Dupree was a goddess.

Alan had composed himself by the time we pulled up to the curb. "H... here we are," he said in a wavering, breathy tone. Okay, maybe he hadn't totally composed himself just yet. He got out and held open the passenger door for Alexia to climb in.

"I don't mind sitting in back," Alexia said.

"No. You should..." He never finished the sentence. Alan had reached the three word limit, and with Alexia looking so gorgeous, he was reluctant to venture past. He gestured for her to get in.

Once Alexia was in the passenger seat, Alan got in back. I knew he was grateful it was me who was sitting next to her, with him in the back where she couldn't see him hyperventilating.

We pulled away from the curb. Alexia turned on the radio. The sounds of soft jazz filled the car.

"Hmm. You have interesting taste in music," she said, before tuning in a top forties station. She cranked the music up loud and began singing along to the song.

While Alan was grateful for the music, I wasn't. I turned the radio down as soon as the song came to an end.

"Where's Lara?" I asked, pointedly.

"She'll be there. But I'm warning you, do _not_ talk to her."

Before I could respond, she turned the music back up, singing along loudly to Sam Smith's latest soul crushing ballad, and that was that.

### Chapter Four

The moment we got to the party, Alexia ditched us.

The party was being held at a beautiful home deep in Benedict Canyon on a plot of land about the size of a football field. You could have easily fit my home, Alan's, and Conner's on the lot that held the palatial mansion.

The girl throwing the party didn't live there. Her parents had rented the sprawling home so their daughter could have an end of summer bash before heading back to Switzerland for her senior year in high school. A rich kid's party.

I didn't know the girl, although Alan and I knew many of the party people. They went to school with us, kids from north of the boulevard who drove to school in Beemers, Mustangs and Mini Coopers; kids who didn't have to take out the trash or walk the three family dogs unless they wanted to—the entitled youth of Beverly Hills.

Kids from our side rarely mixed with the rich kids. It's not that we or they discriminated, but when the rich kids took off for their spring breaks in New York, or their post-Christmas ski trips to Aspen, us Southies couldn't tag along. Both groups knew it, although no one ever said anything, instead, we just kept to our own.

When we arrived at the party, we spotted the typical blend of former and current child actors who'd been on Disney Channel and Nickelodeon shows, mingling with the average Beverly Hills high school kid. The TV stars weren't celebrities at parties in Beverly Hills. Every kid felt they were a celebrity in this part of town.

Alexia made a beeline for Gary Shanks, a senior on the Lacrosse team. He wasn't a rich kid, although he acted like one. He was tall, and handsome, and athletic—things we were not.

"That freakin' Gary Shanks thinks he's so hot," Alan groused. "Stealing our girl right from under our noses."

I started to tell Alan that we'd obviously been played by Alexia. To her, all we were good for was a ride. But I knew he'd figure it out soon enough. Besides, I had other things on my mind.

"She said Lara would be here."

"What's with you and Lara?" Alan asked, annoyed. "You've been talking about her all night."

"No, I haven't. I just want to apologize for the way I acted yesterday."

"Let it go, Dude. Let it go, and clear your head. We need to come up with a plan to get Alexia away from jerkface over there," he said, gesturing toward Alexia who was standing in a crowd by the waterfall pool, looking at Gary Shanks as if she were interested in more than just conversation with him.

The truth is, I wanted to let it go. I'd been wanting to let it go ever since I insulted Lara in Alan's backyard. I couldn't explain why I was suddenly so obsessed with her—a stranger.

"You hatch a plan," I said. "I'm going to mingle." It was my excuse to go looking for her. I started away.

"You're walking away from a shot at Alexia Dupree?" Alan called after me, making his voice sound incredulous, as if I were walking away from a sure thing shot at a million bucks.

"Yep," I replied without turning around.

"You do realize that you're giving up all claim to her?" he called. I could hear the desperation creeping in.

"She's all yours, bro," I responded. We both knew he didn't have enough game to lure Alexia away from Gary Shanks. To accomplish that, he'd need to be able to form full cohesive paragraphs in her presence. Doubtful.

Alan didn't want to be left alone.

We were at the kind of party we'd never been invited to. Leaving him alone would be a reminder to Alan that maybe he didn't belong there, and that maybe he never would. I thought of my father, and that old lady who'd made him feel inferior at the town hall meeting.

A part of me didn't want to leave my friend standing all alone; a part of me wanted to go back and join him so he didn't come away with the same feelings my father came away with all those years ago. But a song had begun to play, not through the studio grade sound system that was pumping some serious club music, but in my head. I'd heard the song before, just prior to laying eyes on Lara for the first time. I knew if I followed the sound of that haunting tune, it would lead me to her.

I started walking toward the house, and as I did, the music began to fade, so I did an about face, moving toward the rear of the large backyard, if that's what you want to call it. Nothing that large and grandiose should ever be called a backyard.

The crowd was thinner as I moved toward the rear of the property, but the music was louder, so I knew I was headed in the right direction.

_What is that song?_ I asked myself. I'd only heard it once the day before, and yet it was so familiar to me.

As I started up a moonlit path toward the guest bungalows, I saw her. Lara. She was standing beneath a weeping willow tree bathed in the shadow of its drooping branches. Her green eyes were on me, the moonlight glinting off of them, giving them a cat's eye gleam that made her seem otherworldly. I got the feeling she'd been watching me the entire time. She was wearing cutoff shorts and a loose fitting tank top—simple, yet so darn sexy.

"Umm... hi," I said," as I neared. The grip on my heart tightened, like a hand squeezing juice from a lemon.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she asked, annoyance rampant in her voice. "Are you some kind of stalker dude?"

"No, no," I said. I tried to laugh it off, but it came out all wrong, sounding like the soft bray of a Billie goat. "I've been looking for you. I sincerely want to—"

A drunken, laughing couple pushed out of the greenery that lined the path, stopping right in front of me.

"How much have you had to drink?" the girl slurred to the guy. She couldn't have been more than fifteen.

"Not as much as you," the guy slurred back.

Amidst waves of laughter, the couple stumbled off the trail and into the darkness on the other side. When they cleared my sight line, Lara was no longer standing under the tree.

"Lara?" I called softly. "Lara!"

The music in my head had once again ceased to play. She was gone.

I searched for her for fifteen minutes before giving up.

I found Alan stewing by the punch bowl. I suspected the punch had been spiked, and that Alan had had more than his share.

"She went in the house with that idiot," Alan groused, and took a slug from his plastic cup. "She smiled and waved at me as she went in. Said she wouldn't be needing a ride home," he said glumly.

"Oh," I said. "Okay. Let's get out of here."

"I'm not going anywhere," Alan said, his voice rising.

"Dude, how much of that punch have you had?" I asked. "I think you've had enough."

"What I've had enough of is being stepped on by creeps like Gary Shanks." I'd never heard him use that tone before. His voice was laced with anger and jealousy.

"Alan, it's not Gary Shanks who played us, it's Alexia. She just wanted a ride to this party, can't you see that?"

"So, you're just going to let him steal our girl?" He was looking at me with accusing eyes.

I guess he couldn't see it.

"Alan, Alexia Dupree is not _our_ girl. We've barely said more than three sentences to her."

"Okay, cool. As of today, you are no longer in the running."

"Great. She's all yours, Alan. Now, let's go home and sleep it off."

"I'm not going anywhere. Oh wait, yes, I am. I'm going in the house to get Alexia away from that claim jumper."

"Claim jumper? Dude, back away from the punch bowl." I reached for Alan's cup and he yanked it back, sloshing punch down the front of his shirt.

"Look what you did!" he shrieked.

Whatever was in the punch was making him crazy. Or was it something else?

Some of the party goers in the area were pointing and laughing. It was always fun to watch a classmate make a fool of himself.

I moved in closer, threw my arm around his shoulder. "Alan, buddy, we need to get out of here. I'm sure Alexia will be just fine."

He looked around, into the faces of our classmates. His expression changed, softened. It was as if he'd emerged from a trance.

"Yeah," he said. "You're right. We don't belong here. Let's go."

He finished his punch, crumpled his cup, and threw it into the crowd.

When we arrived outside, we were greeted by the distant roar of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning that lit up the night sky. Rain was rare this time of year, thunderstorms were even more unusual.

"That's odd," I said at the sound of the second thunder clap. This one was closer. "If we get out of here now, maybe we can beat the storm. I've never driven in the rain, and I don't want my first time to be in a borrowed car with a learners permit."

I climbed in behind the wheel. Alan moved around to the passenger side, but he didn't get in.

"I can't leave her," he said.

"What?" I rolled down the passenger window. "What are you talking about?"

"I can't leave her up here with that guy. You go, get the car back home safely. I'll see you in the morning." He shot me a distant smile, a smile that indicated he was compelled to do this. He started back for the house.

A few scattered raindrops spattered onto the windshield.

"Alan, I have to go. I don't want to drive in the rain," I called after him, my voice beseeching him to turn around and come back. If he heard me, he didn't respond. He disappeared in a swarm of kids.

I pulled out of the driveway, and drove down the winding road back toward Beverly Drive. As I headed down, the wind kicked up, a sure sign it was going to storm. Hopefully, not before I got home.

Five minutes later, the sky opened up and rain fell in buckets.

_Just my luck,_ I thought. _Just my rotten luck._

### Chapter Five

My wipers were on high, I'd turned on the brights and yet I could barely see two feet in front of me. The rain was coming in sheets, cascading off my windshield like river water over a waterfall.

Rather than risk my first accident in a stolen/borrowed car two weeks before I was legal to drive, I pulled alongside the road to wait out to storm, or at least wait until the rain had eased up enough that I felt safe to drive.

I turned on the radio, but instead of a top forties tune pelting through the speakers, the harp and sitar song filled the car.

What the?

I turned off the radio, but the song played on. I squinted at the road ahead of me, then looked over my shoulder, squinting through the rear window. If my hunch was right, Lara was nearby. I sat staring at the road for several minutes, and then she walked past, head down, walking in the pouring rain.

I rolled down the window and the rains came in, bombarding my face. "Lara!" I called.

She continued away from me as if in a trance, as if she didn't realize how hard it was raining.

I pulled the car back onto the road, caught up to her, and rolled down the passenger window.

"Lara! It's me, Josh. Get in!" I called.

She emerged from her trance, and looked at me without stopping. "No, thank you," she said.

"You're getting soaked," I called.

"Better than getting insulted," she called back.

She shot me a look, and I felt the hand tighten its grip around my heart. "Lara, please get in. You're shivering."

She stopped, and took inventory of herself. She was soaked to the bone, the tank top and shorts clinging to her. Rain water ran as if from a leaky faucet down the tip of her nose.

"You sure you're not a stalker dude? You sure seem like one," she said.

"I'm not. I swear. I just want to help. I have a towel in the back. You can dry yourself. I won't talk if you don't want me to. Just, get in. We'll pull over and wait out the storm."

She hit me with a warning expression. "No talking!" she said.

I nodded, and pushed open the passenger door. She climbed in, sloshing rain water onto the passenger seat and console. I'd need to dry that off before I got home.

I grabbed the beach towel from the backseat and handed it to her. She began drying her hair as I pulled off the road.

I tried not looking at her, but I couldn't help myself. She'd been dominating my thoughts ever since I first laid eyes on her.

"Stop staring at me," she squawked.

"It's either staring or talking," I answered with a wry smile.

It was a terrible line, one that was sure to send her back out into the rain, but it didn't. She smiled back.

You just dodged one, Joshie boy. Don't blow it this time. Keep your mouth shut.

I noticed she was still shivering. "Be right back."

I hopped out into the storm, went to the trunk, and found what I was hoping for. I got back in, and handed her the large USC sweatshirt.

"This is my Mom's. It should fit you easy."

She looked from the soft, dry sweatshirt, now in her hands, to me.

"You want me to change into this with you sitting right there?"

"That'd be nice," I said with a grin. Before she had a chance to frown at me, I said: "Tell you what, I'll turn my back and face the road. You can change, and tell me when it's all clear."

After a moment's hesitation: "Okay."

I turned my back to her, staring out onto the rain-soaked road. I could hear her shrugging out of the tank top, and then the shorts.

"So... this is your mother's car?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied. _Stick to monosyllables, Dude._

"Does she know you're out here in the rain?"

"No." _There ya go. Just stay with the Alexia Dupree conversation manual, and you are home free._

"How old are you?" she asked.

"What difference does that make?"

"Ooh, defensive. You must be fifteen." There was a playful teasing to her voice that for some reason, I enjoyed. I liked being teased by her.

"Sixteen in two weeks," I replied.

"You can turn around now."

I did. If I thought Lara was sexy before, she now appeared old Hollywood sexy. She wore the oversized sweatshirt the way Marilyn Monroe must have worn a mink coat. Looking at her lit only by soft shafts of moonlight that had squeezed in between the rain drops, I knew I was falling in love with her.

She withdrew into a shadow, pulling back against the car door. "Don't look at me like that," she said, her voice turning wary.

"Like what?" I asked, trying to play it cool.

"Like... you care," she said, her voice dropping an octave. "You can't like me, Joshua. Okay?"

"Okay," I replied, knowing, of course, it was too late for that.

Her eyes were huge and luminous. In the daylight they were green, but in the moonlight, her eyes had been transformed into glorious emerald beacons, pulling me like a moth to a flame, insisting I love her.

Her lashes were long and beautiful as well. Her skin had an olive tone, as if she'd gotten just the right amount of sun. Her lips were pouty and pink. I looked away from her again, not because I wanted to, but because I knew if I kept staring, pretty soon I'd try to kiss those lips.

"Conner asked what were you reading before he dove in the pool yesterday. Were you and Alexia really reading?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Yes," she replied, laughing lightly. "I wouldn't lie. We were reading poetry. William Wordsworth."

"I think I've heard of him."

"He's one of the romantic poets."

"We haven't gotten to romantic poetry in school yet. Maybe next semester." She laughed again. "What's funny?"

"We don't read romantic poetry for school. We read it because it's beautiful. It's romantic."

"Oh." It hadn't dawned on me that some people might read poetry when they didn't have to.

"' _My heart leaps up when I behold a rainbow in the sky.'_ That's beautiful, isn't it?" she said. "The romantics can take something as simple yet beautiful as a rainbow, and capture the feeling it provokes."

"Okay, yeah. I get it," I said, smiling so as not to appear dumb. As far as I was concerned, a rainbow was a rainbow. It didn't evoke any feeling in me. But sitting there, staring at Lara sure did.

"Looks like the rain is letting up," I said, grateful the storm was coming to an end.

The rain outside had softened to a heavy drizzle, a typical Southern California soup.

"I see."

"I can drive now. Let me drive you home," I said, my voice turning raspy. I didn't look at her. The inside of my mother's Camry suddenly felt small and claustrophobic. I continued staring at the road ahead.

"Okay," she said, in that soft tremulous voice I found utterly irresistible. If she asked me to eat dirt with that voice I'd gladly do it.

Without glancing in her direction, I pulled away from the side of the road.

You can't like me, Joshua.

As I drove on, her words of warning played over in my mind. It was the one thing she could ask me to do in that tremulous voice that I was immune to—liking her, loving her. She could say those words until the cows came home.

You can't like me, Joshua.

Too late for that.

### Chapter Six

Lara gave me her address.

She lived in Benedict Canyon, not far from where we were. In no time, I was pulling up to the wrought iron gates of a huge and rundown old mansion on Applegate Lane. I knew the house—every kid who grew up in Beverly Hills knew the house. It had once been the estate of a famous eccentric movie star, Terrence Applegate. This was back in the thirties and forties when the motion picture heart throbs were Humphrey Bogart, James Stewart, and Terrence Applegate.

"Your family bought the old Applegate mansion," I said.

The gates of the old fortress were usually closed and padlocked, but that night there was no lock. The gates were swung open—an inviting gesture, although I didn't know anyone who'd take them up on the invite.

"Somehow I feel an insult coming on," Lara said.

Lara's family had to be rich. While the house was beat to heck, it sat on a prime piece of Beverly Hills real estate. _Location, location, location._

"No, no. The house is famous is all. An old movie star from the old days used to live here." I lowered my voice. "This house is considered haunted," I said.

That piqued her interest. "Oh? Tell me more."

"If you'll be attending Beverly Hills High in the fall, you'll hear all about it, 'cause this old house is crazy famous. Kids come up here every year around Halloween. It's a bit of a ritual, so you'll need to get the word out that your family lives here now to keep them away," I advised. "Legend has it the old actor went crazy in this house. He'd taken a wife fifty years younger than him, and when he caught her cheating, he killed her, and _ate_ her." I said, making my voice sound ominous, as if I were telling a camp fire ghost story.

"Ate her, did he?"

"Yep. And he got away with it, too. There was nothing left of her. No body, no bones, no evidence of the crime."

Lara nodded solemnly. "Do you know my name?" she asked.

"Of course I do. Lara."

"Lara what?"

"Lara Dupree."

She shook her head. "Aaaaant!" she said, making the sound of a game show buzzer. "Lara _Applegate_."

My face began getting hot, stinging with embarrassment. _Idiot!_ "Like I said, it's... just a dumb old legend. I...I didn't believe it for a minute."

"Of course you didn't," she said with a smirk. "I guess the day isn't complete until Joshua Butters has insulted me, huh?"

She reached for the door handle.

"Look, Lara," I said. I grabbed for her hand.

Just then, something moved in the shadows on the other side of the gate. The thing was quick, bouncing between pools of light, but I got a glimpse of it—a creature, with a hideous face, deformed body, and _claws_.

Suddenly the music in my head stopped playing, the fog in my mind lifted, and everything that had happened the past two days made perfect sense. It was as if a spell had been broken.

The creature was gone, lost in the shadows before I could get a clear look at it, but I'd seen enough.

I jerked my hand back. "Gotta go," I said.

"What?"

With my head now clear, the pieces began falling into place: the creature, Lara appearing in the pool, the scratches on Alan's leg.

"Gotta go, right now, chop-chop." I reached across her, and pushed open the passenger door. "See ya!"

"And the insults just keep on coming. Have a good life, Joshua Butters," she said, and hastily climbed out.

I'm sure she would have slammed the car door, but she didn't get the chance. I beat her to it. I pulled shut the door, made sure it was locked, threw the Camry in gear, and spit gravel as I squealed out of there.

Five o'clock the following morning, Mrs. Felicia Hauser started to scream when she discovered a dead coyote floating in her swimming pool. The coyote hadn't wandered in and drowned. It had been ravaged by what authorities said was a wild animal that left the dead carcass floating on the surface of the pool. Mrs. Hauser lived three doors down from the Feinmans. Coincidence? _Not!_

### Chapter Seven

I was pacing along the deck by Alan's pool when Conner finally arrived. The early morning sunlight cast a silky sheen across the top water of the pool giving off an inviting sereneness.

Come on in, fellas. I won't hurt ya.

The Feinmans had a No Knock policy for Conner and me. We could come and go as we pleased. This started when we were twelve. That summer, Conner and I must have knocked on the Feinman front door fifteen times a day each. One afternoon, Cara Feinman, Alan's Mom, answered the door and said "I'm sick of you boys disturbing my day. Do not knock on this door ever again. Just go on around back. The sliding door will always be open."

Conner arrived wearing a rumpled t-shirt and rumpled shorts, looking as though he'd had another rough night sleeping. A gauzy bandage covered the scratches on his leg.

"This better be good," he said as he crash landed in one of the lounge chairs.

"It is!" I replied, forcefully.

"He's all worked up over something," said Alan as he munched on a Pop Tart. "And he wouldn't spill anything until you got here."

"So spill, Buttkiss! I'm here!" Conner groused. He wasn't happy to be back at Alan's so soon. He kept glancing at the pool.

I finally stopped pacing and took a deep breath. I'd had a rough night as well, although, mine was a night of clarity. It was the first time since I'd laid eyes on Lara Applegate that my eyes were wide open, and I could see things as they really were.

Convincing Alan and Conner how things really were would be another story, although Conner had seen the creature as well, so he'd be the easiest to convince.

"Did you guys hear about what happened this morning?" I said.

Conner grabbed a rolled-up towel from off a nearby chair, and threw it at me.

"Spit it out already, Buttbreath!"

"I am spitting it out! Mrs. Hauser found a dead coyote in her pool this morning. The coyote had been attacked by something _wild_." I looked from Alan to Conner, and saw that they were not putting two and two together.

"Am I missing something, Josh?" Alan asked.

"There are no wild animals in Beverly Hills, Alan. It was... _the creature_."

"Creature?" asked Conner. Clearly, he was a little slow on the uptick.

"The creature you saw in Alan's pool two days ago? _Duh!"_

"That was a dream," Conner said.

That surprised me.

"You know, and I know that was not a dream, Conner. Did a dream put those long scratches on your leg?"

"This is about Lara, isn't it?" Alan blurted.

"Yes! Yes, it is about Lara. I know this is going to sound weird, but trust me, she has something to do with the creature in your pool. She's not what she appears to be."

Alan looked at Conner. "Hey, bro, do you want to throw him in, or should I?"

Conner cast a wary glance at the pool. "Be my guest," he said.

Alan started for me.

I saw the way Conner was looking at the pool, and pounced. "Then, let's go for a swim, Conner. You believe it's safe in there, right? You believe it was all a dream, so let's go in." I pulled off my t-shirt in a grand gesture.

Conner cast another quick glance at the pool. "I don't have my trunks."

"Since when have we ever needed trunks to jump in a pool?" I asked. "Remember the time all three of us jumped in Mike Dozier's pool with all our clothes on?" I was gaping at him, daring him to jump in.

Alan reached my side.

"Good morning, Alan." It was the lyrical voice of Alexia Dupree.

We all turned. Alexia was smiling at us from the other side of the hedge, smiling that smile that could scorch men's souls.

"Hey, Alexia." A goofy, smitten look appeared on Alan's face. Alan's soul had clearly been scorched.

"Why don't you come over for lunch today? Pay back for last night."

Last night?

"Sure," Alan replied.

"Good. I had fun last night," she said, her smile widening.

Fun?

"Me, too," replied Alan, the goofy expression getting goofier.

"See you later," she said, and dropped out of sight.

"Dude!" Conner exclaimed, impressed.

"What can I tell ya? I am the man!" Alan said and began doing a happy dance.

I wasn't biting. "It's no coincidence Alexia popped up just now. She's one of them, you know."

"One of what?" asked Conner.

"Have you guys been listening to me?" I said, frustration creeping in.

"Your friends can come, too. If they want." Alexia called from the other side of the hedge.

"I am not going over there!" I said loudly, folding my arms across my chest.

That's when Alan shoved me in the pool.

As I rose to the surface, I gazed into the darkness of the pool drain. I thought I saw a pair of eyes staring out at me—emerald green, and angry.

I got the hell out of the pool as fast as I could. Alan and Conner were laughing, although Conner hadn't budged from the lounge chair. He knew better. He knew I was speaking the truth, but he didn't want to look like a nutjob.

That was all right. I had to look at the bigger picture. As crazy as it seemed, there was a creature haunting the pools of Beverly Hills. A creature was somehow living in the spillover drain of my best friend's swimming pool. Once I had visual proof, neither Conner nor Alan would be able to deny it. I knew just where I could find the proof I was looking for.

The moon was full, bright, and eerie when I wheeled up to the Applegate fortress on my bike. It was a Halloween moon, the kind you fully expected to see a witch flying by on her broomstick. The wrought iron gates were swung open as they were the night before, still proffering a gesture of welcome. All I could see beyond the gates was looming darkness. Needless to say, I did not feel welcome.

An egg lodged in my throat as I deposited my bike in the tall grass alongside the road. If anyone had told me a month ago I'd be walking through the creepy gates of Applegate mansion, I'd have told them they needed to have their head examined. Yet, here I was.

_Grow a pair, Butters_ , I told myself in an attempt to bolster my courage.

I pulled out my iPhone and set the camera to record, then I proceeded cautiously through the gates.

While many of my classmates had visited the Applegate fortress over the years, seeking Halloween horror thrills, I never did. I was too chicken to visit a bona fide haunted mansion. Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios was more my speed. Controlled horror offered up by a multi-national corporation was my thing. The worst that could happen to me at Halloween Horror Nights would be to OD on corn dogs.

As I passed through the gates, the music in my head started up again, and as it did, I felt a shift occur in my soul. I realized then that a part of me wasn't there to photograph the creature I thought I'd glimpsed the night before. A part of me was there to get another glimpse at Lara Applegate. Yeah, I know, crazy. Truth is, even when I thought I was no longer under her spell, I was. My feelings for Lara were growing.

As I continued up the drive and around a stand of tall trees, the house came into view. It appeared even older and more decrepit up close than from afar. It would have seemed even more frightening if it wasn't lit up as if for a party. From what I'd heard, the Applegate mansion was always bathed in sinister darkness, but not tonight.

_A monster party_ , I thought, then I immediately dismissed it as stupid. I had to dismiss the thought, because I knew if I didn't, I'd turn around and start in opposite direction.

I crept up to the house, keeping to the shadows, even though I knew the shadows were the most dangerous for me. The creature I thought I saw the night before had been lurking in the shadows.

_What are you doing here, Josh?_ I asked myself. _What are you really doing here?_

I am not the daring type. I have never been a risk taker. When Alan jumped into the pool to save our friend, I stayed put. I'd been swimming in Alan's pool since I was twelve, but that day, I stayed put. Too risky. You can drown in six inches of water. I wasn't going to risk drowning in my best friend's pool to save my other best friend's life. Too damn risky.

But isn't this riskier?

I didn't want to answer that question. The answer was obvious.

So, what was I doing there?

_Compelled._ That was the word that came to mind. It had nothing to do with whether or not I believed in creatures or anything supernatural. I didn't. That was just a mind trick to get me back there. The truth was, I was there because I had to be, because this is where I'd find Lara Applegate.

As I neared the house, I heard the sound of female voices talking, laughing.

I realized the bright light and laughter were coming from around back. Staying in the shadows, I worked my way to the rear of the house.

When I turned the corner, I saw what appeared to be a large, in-ground hot tub in the center of a grassy lawn. Steam rose from the surface of the water like morning mist off a lake. The voices I'd heard were coming from the tub, but I couldn't get a clear view of anyone through the steam. Childlike laughter drifted over to me.

I ducked behind some low shrubbery, and started moving in closer. I readied my camera in case a creature came into view.

That's when I went spilling to the ground as two powerful arms tackled me below the waist. _Oof!_

"Gotcha!" I heard the tackler say.

I wriggled in his grasp. Wrenching around, I found myself staring into the face of a creature.

### Chapter Eight

_Okay, okay okay,_ I thought, trying to calm myself. _Relax, Joshie, boy. This is just another mind trick._

The creature pulled me to my feet.

"Good job, Petros," a male voice called out. "The Countess will be pleased."

The creature, Petros, held a tight grip on me under my right arm. His accomplice moved in and gripped me under the left.

"Thank you for the assistance, Rive," said Petros as the pair began dragging me into the light.

"The pleasure is all mine," Rive replied.

As they drew me out of the shadows and into the light, I was able to get a good look at them. I realized then, either I was going crazy, or creatures really did exist.

They were both half man and half beast, like the satyrs of Greek mythology. I knew nothing of Greek mythology, but two semester's ago in Sophomore English, we'd been forced (half our grade) to read Shakespeare's _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ , so I had a sense of what I was witnessing.

While Petros reminded me of a taller version of Puck from the play, curly beard and all, the other one, Rive, was a clean shaven giant, probably half man and half bull. No claws, though. I'd been wrong about that. I also realized it was the thick beard that made him seem so hideous in the shadows. While these two were clearly creatures of some sort, they were not what was in Alan's pool.

So what, if anything, is in the pool?

"Countess, Petros has captured a spy," Rive called out as he released his grip on me.

A woman stepped through the mist that swirled around the hot tub. Now that I was closer, I could see it wasn't a hot tub at all, but a lagoon-style pool. A few butterflies fluttered nearby.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, he's just a boy. Don't be so rough on him," the Countess said as she looked me up and down.

"He's a spy! I caught him hiding in the bushes. He was spying on the Nereid, trying to take pictures," Petros replied, and snatched my phone from my hand. "See!" he said, hoisting the phone in the air as if it were a prize.

"I... I was just trying to make a phone call. I got lost and turned around and..."

The woman's eyes twinkled as she delighted in my lie.

She was a tall blond in full makeup including bright red lipstick. Her hair was covered by a red bandana that was tied off at the front into a nice bow. She wore dark colored Capri pants, and a Navy blue blouse featuring small white polka dots. The blouse was tied off at the waist.

The look, the outfit was something out of Hollywood's nineteen fifties—Lucille Ball, Rita Hayworth, Lana Turner. The ensemble (and that's what you had to call it) was ultra-retro, yet the Countess made it appear modern and chic. She was at least forty. She wore her age rather nicely as well. The Countess was movie star gorgeous.

"That's your line and you're sticking to it, I imagine," she said with a curious smile. "Although, I must tell you, I do find it a tad bit hard to believe." While her words were non-threatening, there was a fire in her eyes that warned me she was not to be messed with.

"Okay, you got me. I'm actually here to visit a friend," I said, fumbling for my next lie.

"And your friend was lurking in the shadows?" Petros queried. His powerful fingers dug into the flesh of my bicep. He shook me— _hard_.

Ow!" I cried out as he increased the pressure on my arm.

"Now, now, Petros. Let him finish," the Countess said. "There will be plenty of time for that... if it's required." Again, she spoke with no threat, yet I knew one had been implied.

"It won't be," I blurted. "I'm here for a visit," I said, my voice drifting into the upper register I use when I'm trying to make a point.

"He's a spy for the Lycorians," Petros said, and shook me again, although not as hard this time.

From the Countess' bemused expression, it was clear my second lie had worked about as well as my first. I began looking around, trying to map out an escape route. I figured if I could sweet talk them long enough for Petros to relax his grip, I could break away and make it back into the tall trees that rimmed the property.

"Well, then, who might you be visiting?" the Countess asked, her voice ringing with playful skepticism.

Petros still had a good grip on me, and Rive was standing nearby. Getting away from them and to the trees was a longshot and getting longer.

"Me," a tremulous voice said.

Lara Applegate stepped through the mist and out of the pool. She was wearing a lime green bikini that set off her Emerald eyes, making them seem bigger and brighter than ever. I was wrong about her being a quiet beauty. I realized then, she was the most beautiful creature I'd ever laid eyes on. The hand that plagued my heart squeezed once again. The song swelled in my head.

The amusement on the Countess's face vanished as her eyes moved to Lara. "Don't toy with me. You know this boy?"

Lara nodded. "His name is Joshua Butters. He drove me home last night in the rain."

"Hi, Lara," I said, and smiled a smile filled with relief. She did not smile back, and I wondered if she was going to throw me to the wolves. I faced the Countess. "Told you," I said, holding my ground.

After a moment of heart-in-mouth silence, the Countess said: "Let him go," with a wave of her hand.

"But, Eudora—"

"Let-him-go, Petros," she commanded. "He is a friend of my daughter's, a guest in our home. Apparently, she neglected to mention a new _friend_." There was an edge to her voice, the first glimpse of emotion since I'd been there.

Petros released me, giving me a polite, yet meaningful, shove.

"Can I have my phone back?" I held out my hand.

Petros's eyes moved to the Countess, Eudora. She nodded, and he slammed my phone into the palm of my hand. I got the feeling Petros wasn't finished with me. Not by a longshot.

I faced Lara again. "Hi," I repeated.

Lara took me by the hand and began pulling me into the darkness toward the front of the house and the wrought iron gates from where I came.

"Is there no end to the ways you can embarrass me?" she screeched as she pulled me along.

"I wasn't trying to embarrass you."

" _What_ are you doing here?"

"I... I don't know. At first I thought I came to get a picture of the creature."

"Creature?" she shrieked.

"Yes! Th... the satyr dudes. I thought I saw one of them lurking by the gate last night. That's the reason I left so suddenly."

"Ah, yes, the scene of another embarrassment at the hands of Joshua Butters. Thank you so much for reminding me."

"But that's not why I came," I said my voice rising to make my point. "I told myself I was coming to get a photo of the creature, but the truth is, I came back to see you."

She stopped, and peered at me through the darkness. Her green eyes narrowed, and then softened. "Joshua, I told you, you _cannot_ like me! You have to forget about me. You have to forget about everything you saw here tonight. If you say anything to anyone about what you saw, you will be in danger." A butterfly floated up around her face. She fanned it away.

"I'm not afraid of Petros," I lied.

"Petros?" She peered around in the darkness, as if looking for spies. Then, she stepped closer. "Joshua, do not be fooled by my mother's beauty. She is the real creature, and mark my words, if you leak any of what you saw to anyone, she will have you killed," she said with breathless urgency.

The tenor of her voice, along with the look in her eyes sent a shiver rippling through me.

"Maybe your mom is a creature, but those things that grabbed me are _real_ creatures."

"Ah. So now the insults move on to Petros and Rive."

"They're not human!" I said in my own defense. I paused a beat. "Are you?"

She glared at me for several seconds, then sighed heavily, and all the anger faded from her face. It was as if a wave in the ocean had crashed to shore, washing away writings in the sand.

"Come," she said softly. "If you're going to die, you should know why."

She began pulling me back toward the rear of the house, but as we neared the lighted part of the grounds, we made a sharp turn into the trees and began moving along a narrow path back into darkness.

After a few minutes, a dull light came into view through the trees. She pulled me into a clearing. There, at the center of the clearing was a gazebo, the top of which was ringed with rows of tiny, white Christmas tree lights.

The gazebo was in a meadow. Flowers bloomed, dozens of butterflies floated in the air, as if in a garden photograph, or a dream. The scene and setting were quite beautiful, although the presence of so many butterflies frolicking in the moonlight added an eeriness to the beauty.

"This is nice," I said.

"' _I wandered lonely as a cloud that floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils.'_ "

I stared at her, not knowing what to make of what she'd just said.

"The flowers. They're daffodils."

"Oh. Right. That's romantic poetry, isn't it?"

She didn't respond. She led me to the gazebo where we climbed the wooden steps, and sat on a padded bench in the moonlight. She gazed into my eyes, and the hand around my heart squeezed again.

I'd been led to this lovely setting by a beautiful girl I hardly knew. So much was happening so quickly, it was hard to believe. Yet one thing was for sure, I was rapidly falling in love with her. The music strumming in my mind strummed my soul.

I was intoxicated with the feeling it evoked. I wanted to lean forward and kiss her, but I controlled myself. There was something more pressing to deal with first.

"You mentioned me dying?"

"Maybe I was being a little dramatic," she replied.

I shook my head. "Wordsworth was being dramatic. You were being honest. I could tell from the look in your eyes."

She continued staring at me for another few moments. She was making a decision.

"You were the only one who noticed that I entered your friend's pool unseen."

"There _is_ a creature of some sort living in Alan's pool, isn't there?"

"' _Tell all the truth, but tell it slant, success in Circuit lies.'"_ She nodded solemnly.

"Wow!"

"If you're going to die, you should know."

I did not see that one coming.

"Will you stop saying that? It's creeping me out."

"Sorry. My family and I are water nymphs. I know that sounds hard to believe."

"It might have been hard to believe if I hadn't already seen two satyrs running around on your estate."

"Right," she said, and nodded again.

"Is that why you were walking home in the rain as if you didn't have a care in the world?"

"My people like the rain. I love the rain."

"If you like the rain so much, why did you get in? Why didn't you just tell me to mind my own business?"

"I don't know. I guess... I wanted to," she said, and the tiniest smile graced her lips.

We sat in silence for several minutes while an ancient symphony played in my head. Guys don't like silence when girls are around. Silence makes us feel like we're doing something wrong. This silence, however, was as comfortable as that old pair of sneaks you just can't bring yourself to throw away. It was familiar and relaxing.

After several minutes, she spoke again: "We are creatures of the water."

"Fairies of some sort?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Like the tooth fairy?"

She laughed. "Will the insults ever stop?" she asked, but she was laughing, so I knew it was all right.

"I'm not going to put a dollar under your pillow, if that's what you're thinking. We guard the water way."

"There is no water way in Beverly Hills—unless you mean the swimming pools. Los Angeles is a desert."

"Yes and, no. Los Angeles _is_ a desert, but there is also an underwater hot spring that runs under the city of Beverly Hills. It dates back to long before your city was founded. It is the birthplace of my people, the Nereid."

I had a sudden realization. "The pool I saw back there isn't a swimming pool, is it? It's the hot spring."

Lara nodded again. "It is one of the five entry points to the hot spring. Its existence is a closely guarded secret, which is why my family guards this property so jealously." She fanned at a butterfly fluttering near her face.

I thought of all the years the Applegate Fortress had remained empty (or at least, we thought it was empty), all the years the people of our community believed it was haunted. I was about to speak again when I heard a soft rustling in the shrubbery nearby. I peered in the direction of the sound, but saw nothing.

"That's just Petros. He's very protective of me," Lara said in a low tone.

I was sitting quite close to her on the bench. I slid over a few inches, creating a little space between us. One encounter with Petros for the night was quite enough.

"What about the thing in Alan's pool?" I asked, hungry to know more.

"The thing in his pool is a Lycorian. The Lycorians are what are known as sea trolls."

"Get out! This is too much. The guys are never going to believe it."

Instant alarm spread across her face. "Did you hear me earlier? You _cannot_ tell anyone about us. My mother will know, and if she knows, you and your family will die."

I reached over and grabbed her hand, and when I did, something deep and unspoken passed between us, something electric. Our eyes met for a brief moment. She pulled her hand away.

"Relax. I'm not going to tell them about _you_. I'm going to tell them about the sea troll hiding out in Alan's pool. It already hurt Conner. They need to know."

"Joshua—"

"Did I tell you I love when you say my name like that that?"

"Joshua," she continued, blowing right past my compliment. "The Lycorian is not there to harm you or your friends. He attacked your friend because he was trying to lure Alexia or me into the pool. The Lycorians live for one purpose, to wipe my entire race from the face of the earth.

### Chapter Nine

Lara explained that water nymphs are an irresistible delicacy for sea trolls. She risked her life diving in the pool to save my friend even though she knew the creature was only grabbing him to get to her and Alexia.

I recalled that I didn't even budge from the lounge chair as Alexia ran by. _Too risky._ Yet this tiny girl dove in to rescue my friend without fear for her own wellbeing.

"You knew the creature was in the pool?"

"We suspected."

"And yet you dove in, knowing that's what it wanted."

"I couldn't let an innocent boy be harmed," she said.

Embarrassing. Obviously, _I_ could.

She told me that the Nereid possess incredible speed, like _The Flash_ , and that sea trolls also possess the same kind of speed which is how the Lycorian could get in and out of Alan's pool undetected.

"I knew I didn't see you enter Alan's pool. Sorry I busted you."

"That's all right, although it did alarm me at first. But no one believed you. To them, it was crazy talk. Joshua Butters is a crazy man," she said and laughed.

"Now who's being insulting?"

She told me the troll had probably wandered into the area, like a bear that had come down from the mountains foraging for food. When the troll caught the scent of water nymphs living nearby, he decided to hideout and capture them.

Finally, she reminded me that if I breathed a word of her family's secret to anyone, her mother would know, and that both me and my family would be in mortal danger.

Before I knew it, she was again pulling me through the darkness and back to the wrought iron gates.

Lara deposited me outside the gate with a final set of warnings: "Don't tell anyone what you saw, don't come back here, and _don't_ have feelings for me." With that, she disappeared into the shadows. The music in my mind softened, and then slowly faded out.

I had dreams that night—terrible dreams.

I dreamt of beautiful nymphs frolicking in the waters of a hot spring. The spring was set in a lush garden. A rainbow of butterflies, all sizes, shapes, and colors added to the beauty of the bucolic scene.

And then the creatures came, horrid creatures of all kinds emerged from the trees and began attacking the defenseless nymphs of the garden. Hideous sea trolls emerged from under the water, slashing at the nymphs with their claws. The air became red with blood, and saturated with screams as the creatures wantonly killed and then feasted upon the defenseless water nymphs.

"Help us!" a male voice cried out. It was Petros. He and Rive were also under siege, doing their best to fight off the monsters and save the nymphs, but there were too many.

I was lying on a lounge chair nearby, observing the melee. I didn't move to help the satyrs rescue the nymphs. _Too risky_ , I thought.

I woke up screaming.

I didn't go to Alan's that morning.

I lay in bed, wondering what, if anything, I should do. The thing in Alan's pool may not have been after Alan and his family, but that didn't mean it wouldn't harm them.

But what can I say to make Alan aware of the danger without putting my own family in danger?

I believed Lara when she told me what her mother would do if I breathed a word of what I saw.

I couldn't risk that.

I rolled out of bed around ten, and went into the kitchen to have a bowl of cereal. My father was seated at the table, reading the paper, and drinking coffee.

"Hey, Dad," I said.

He looked up and smiled. He'd aged over the past few years. He was graying at his sideburns, and there were hard lines around his eyes and across his brow. _Worry lines_ , my mother called them.

He had reason to worry. Back when Dad realized he'd gone as far as he could in his old job, he quit and started his own security company. Better Security—another play on our family name. Dad sank his life savings into the company that never quite got off the ground. No longer working with the stars, these days, Dad installed fewer and fewer security systems in the homes of fewer and fewer working class families, like ours.

"What are you doing home so late?" I asked, as I poured milk over my Frosted Flakes.

"Client cancellation," he said. "Not to worry, though," he added quickly. "I've got a big job lined up for later in the week."

"Good," I said. Both my parents were busting their butts to keep us in this house so I could continue to attend Beverly Hills high. Troy had graduated last fall. Personally, I didn't care if we moved someplace cheaper, but I knew my parents wouldn't hear of it. If we were forced to move out of Beverly Hills, my father would feel even more like a loser than he already did.

_Two more years to graduation, and we can clear out of here,_ I thought.

I loved my parents. I loved what they had sacrificed to secure a good education for Troy and me.

I decided to eat my cereal in my room where I could think without looking into my father's face, and being reminded of the threat hanging over our heads.

I went to my computer and looked up romantic poets. The names William Blake, William Wordsworth, Lord Byron, John Keats, Percy Bysshe Shelley appeared on the screen. I'd heard of a few of them. They were names I associated with the olden days... and schoolwork. Today, I wanted to know more about these men, these romantic poets. Knowing more about them made me feel closer to Lara. I began reading poetry.

I had just started my reading when Conner called.

"Sorry about yesterday," he said. He sounded even more tired than the day before.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, playing it cool.

"I thought you might have been teasing me, and I didn't want to look like a nutjob," he said.

"Okay." I ventured nothing more. I didn't want to talk about the creature. I didn't want him talking about it, either.

"Can you come over?"

There was a long silence as I weighed my options. _Too risky_ , I told myself, but then I remembered the carnage in my dream, and shame came flooding in.

"Josh. You there?" he asked. He didn't call me Buttbreath.

"Yeah. I'm here," I said. "Be there in fifteen minutes."

Whenever we went over to Conner's, we always hung out in his room. Not that it made a difference, but I got the feeling the rest of the house was off limits to Conner, the black sheep of the family. He hadn't done anything to become a black sheep, aside from being born to a different mother than the girls, and he didn't have a hand in that.

Conner was sitting on the edge of his bed when I walked in. He looked terrible. Tributaries of deep red scrolled through his eyes, as if he'd been up all night. He was wearing the same rumpled t-shirt from the day before, but today he had on long pants to cover the bandage.

He looked up when I entered, treating me to a weak smile.

"Looks like Alan and Alexia Dupree are getting on pretty well. Who'd have thunk it?" he said.

"Not me, that's for sure."

"It's always the guys you least expect who land the hot chicks, just like in romantic comedies." He attempted a smile.

"Yeah," I said. "Like you've ever watched a romantic comedy," I added, and we both laughed.

"Seriously, I'm happy for him," he said. "One of us has finally scored a hottie."

I nodded. I was happy for Alan, too. Although I was sure he didn't know the truth about Alexia. Knowing the truth about Alexia Dupree would put the Feinman's lives in mortal danger.

"I saw something in Alan's pool," Conner said, moving onto the reason I was there. "Something horrible."

Moment of truth time.

"Know what I think? I think you cramped up while you were under the water trying to get the girls' attention. I think maybe you panicked, and when Lara jumped in, your mind played a trick on you. I think the mind trick is what you're seeing in your dreams."

"Bullshit!" Conner said in a low, almost seething tone. "You know something, Butterfingers. You saw it, too, didn't you? Didn't you!" He jumped to his feet, gaping at me.

"Relax, bro. You need to get some rest."

He plopped back down onto the bed. "Don't do this to me. You know something."

"Conner—"

"What was all that talk about a dead coyote in Mrs. Hauser's pool? Huh? You wouldn't have brought us together if you didn't, at the very least, suspect something. You wouldn't have risked that."

I stiffened when he said _you wouldn't have risked that_. Conner and Alan were my best friends since the eighth grade. We knew each other like the backs of our hands.

Just then, I noticed a tiny, yellow butterfly fluttering by Conner's computer. I stiffened.

"What's that thing doing in here?" I practically shrieked.

"It's a butterfly, Dipstick."

"I know what it is, Conner."

I recalled the butterflies in the meadow the previous night, Lara's warning that her mother would know, and I grew suspicious of a butterfly that just happened to be hanging out in my friend's bedroom.

I got up, pulled back the drapes and opened the window. After a few minutes, I was able to coax the butterfly out.

"Quit stalling! Are going to come clean with me or not?" Conner asked. I closed the window. The butterfly hovered by the glass on the outside, trying to get in. I had the feeling it had been spying on me.

Crazy time, I know. _Joshua Butters is a crazy man_. But is it any crazier than the existence of beautiful water nymphs being protected by muscular satyrs?

I came back over, sat close to Conner on the bed, and began whispering.

### Chapter Ten

We arrived at Alan's just after noon, weighted down by armloads of large, bulky cardboard boxes. If my plan succeeded, I'd be able to prove the existence of the creature in Alan's pool to the guys without putting them, myself, or my family in any kind of danger.

We hit our first snag as soon as we arrived. Alan's mother told us he wasn't home. He was next door at the Duprees.

"Whoa! Him and Alexia are really a couple," Conner said, shaking his head in near disbelief. "Our boy works fast."

"We gotta go get him. This is important," I said. "But let's not mention anything about the surveillance equipment in front of Alexia."

"Don't worry. I'm not anxious to look like a nutjob in front of a hot chick." He smiled at me.

We deposited our boxes on the deck by the sliding glass door. Conner and I glanced over at the pool we'd been swimming in since we were twelve. The surface of the water was placid. It seemed innocent enough, although neither of us was willing to approach the water's edge.

We hit our second snag when we arrived next door. Mrs. Roxanne Dupree, Alexia's mother, let us in, and led us silently into the living room. Roxanne Dupree was a dark haired beauty in her mid-thirties. Like every water nymph I'd seen so far, she was gorgeous.

When we arrived in the living room, we saw that the sliding glass door that led to the deck outside had been nearly shattered. Spider webs of jagged cracks were spread across the entire glass surface, rendering it impossible to see outside.

"What happened here?" I asked.

"Attempted break-in last night while they were out," said Alan.

He was seated next to Alexia on the sofa. His arm was around her. I'd never seen Alan's arm around a girl before. He seemed at ease, although I imagine being that close to a girl had to be nerve wracking for him.

Alexia appeared to be in a state of shock.

"In this neighborhood?" asked Conner. He faced Roxanne. "I know you're new here, but don't worry, Beverly Hills boasts one of the most vigilant police forces in the nation. What did the cops have to say about it?"

"We didn't call the police. We'd rather not involve them," said Mrs. Dupree.

Conner and I exchanged a quick glance.

"Why not?" I asked.

"We're pretty sure we know who did it. A distant cousin, a disgruntled family member whom we'd rather shield from prosecution," Mrs. Dupree replied. She was smooth.

I wasn't buying it. From the look of Alexia, it was more than an angry relative that had shaken her so badly. I was guessing she was shaken up because the creature from Alan's pool had nearly gotten to them during the night. What I didn't understand was why Alexia's mother was protecting the creature.

"Hey, Alan, we need to see you for a minute," said Conner.

Alan gazed at Alexia who was trembling in his arms.

"Maybe later, guys." He was enjoying playing the role of hero, protector. I wondered how much he'd enjoy it if he knew the danger he was in.

"It's important," I said.

"It's okay," said Alexia. "Anyway, you'll be right next door." She gave him a weak smile.

Alan peeled himself away from Alexia.

"Remember, let's not alarm your mother, Alan," said Roxanne Dupree. "This is a family matter."

"You have my word," Alan replied.

He gently kissed the fingertips of Alexia's right hand. They shared a smile.

Most guys we know would have called kissing a girl's hand in front of his friends a sucker move, one that would have gotten him teased mercilessly. I'm sure I would have teased Alan, at least I would have a few days ago, before I started falling hopelessly in love with a girl I hardly knew.

Alan seemed at ease being romantic in front of me and Conner. I was suspicious.

"What's this?" Alan asked, peering at the boxes stacked up on his rear deck.

"Surveillance equipment," Conner announced. "We need you to help us set it up."

Alan's eyes moved to me. "Please don't tell me this about a creature living in my pool?"

"I know what I saw," Conner blurted. "And Butters knows it, too."

Wow! He actually called me by given last name. Go figure.

"You guys can't stand it, can you? I beat you both out fair and square. It's too late. Give it up, already," Alan said. He started away in disgust.

"Alan, listen to us. This is not about Alexia Dupree," I said, grabbing him by the arm. "We're happy that you and Alexia found each other."

"Bull!" he exclaimed, pulling free.

"It's true. We're the three musketeers. When one of us has a good day, we all have a good day," I said.

Alan looked from Conner to me and back. He knew us well, and could see there was no jealousy in our eyes. "What am I doing here?" he asked.

"We want you to help us set up this surveillance equipment," Conner said.

"So we can capture the creature on film?" he asked in an incredulous tone.

"Okay," I said lowering my voice. "Suppose it wasn't a disgruntled family member who tried to break-in the Duprees last night? Suppose it was someone who meant them some serious harm?"

"You heard Mrs. Dupree," he said, in an attempt to dismiss my argument.

"Suppose she's wrong? She didn't see the person who shattered their glass door. We'll set up one of the cameras facing their yard, just to be sure. If we catch the relative on video it will be more ammunition for them to make him stop."

Alan again looked from me to Conner and eventually sighed. "You don't believe it's a disgruntled relative for one minute, do you?"

"We just need your help, bro," Conner said, holding his gaze.

"You guys are dipsticks, you know that?"

"Takes one to know one," I said. That got a smile out of him.

By the time we'd finished setting up the surveillance equipment, the sun was beginning to set. I was glad we finished when we did because I knew once the sun went down, Conner wanted to be nowhere near Alan's pool. I couldn't blame him.

We placed a motion detector on the deck between the house and the pool, and another aimed at the Duprees deck. We had a sensor set to go off and flood the area with infrared light if motion was detected.

Cameras faced the edge of the pool, the deck leading up the hedge, and another set high in a tree, faced the Duprees spider-webbed glass door. Working for my Dad two summers ago (for no pay, thank you very much) was finally paying off. We had the entire area surveilled. If anyone, or _anything_ moved in Alan's yard at night, the cameras would capture it.

I was proud of myself for not saying anything about the Nereid to Conner or Alan. I didn't have to risk anyone's lives any further, and yet we were still able to take a step toward ridding Alan's pool of the creature.

While we were working, I thought I saw a few butterflies in the yard. I'd never paid much attention to butterflies before, now I was paranoid about them. Were they watching us?

It was dark by the time I completed the four block walk home. My stomach was rumbling loudly, and I realized I hadn't eaten a thing since the bowl of Frosted Flakes this morning.

As I neared my house, I saw that the living room lights were on. That was unusual. Casa Butters was always dark in the evenings. My parents only used the living room for entertaining, and they hadn't entertained in years.

As I got closer, I spotted a vintage Mercedes Benz convertible parked at the curb out front. The car appeared to have been from the thirties, and yet it was in mint condition, painted a beautiful pearl white. A chauffeur sat poised behind the wheel.

_Dad has a new client_ , I thought. _A new Hollywood client. Hooray!_ My father hadn't done security for a movie star in years, not since he'd started his own security company. Perhaps things were taking a turn for the Butters... pun intended.

When I reached the sidewalk in front of the house, I realized it wasn't a chauffeur seated behind the wheel of the Mercedes convertible, it was Petros, the satyr, dressed as a chauffeur—at least the top half of him was. I didn't want to know what was going on downstairs.

Seeing Petros, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach.

Is Eudora inside murdering my parents?

Petros looked up at me from behind the wheel of the fine car. He smiled and nodded. "Good evening, sir." he said.

"I didn't say anything to my family about last night," I blurted. "I didn't say anything to anyone." The knot in my stomach began doubling and tripling.

Petros continued to smile. I didn't like that smile. I didn't like that smile one bit.

Without another word, I rushed forward up the walk, pushed open the front door, and went inside.

### Chapter Eleven

Laughter.

As I moved down the short corridor to the living room, I could hear my father laughing.

Okay, they're not dead. And so far, they haven't been threatened—unless he thinks it's a joke.

I hurried into the living room. My mother was pouring tea from a tea service she hadn't used since I was a kid. She was pouring tea for the Countess, Eudora Applegate, who sat holding her cup as if she were the queen. Dad stood nearby, still laughing. Troy was there as well. It was a regular family affair.

"There's the man of the hour," my father said as I walked in. He was smiling at me.

"What's, umm... what's going on here?" I asked.

Yes, I was thrown. I just walked in on my family making nice with the beautiful woman who had all but threated their lives the night before. Of course, they didn't know that.

"It's all my fault. I apologize," said Eudora. "I woke up this morning and said to myself, I just have to meet the family of the young man who has stolen my little girl's heart. And well, here I am." She sipped her tea, her eyes delighting in my surprise.

"We knew nothing about you having a girlfriend," my mother said. She was smiling at me, too. "You're so secretive."

"That's my little brother. Smooth," said Troy. He winked at me.

The hand that hadn't gripped my heart all day, squeezed. I looked around, hoping to see Lara sitting with my family, or coming in from the kitchen. But the song wasn't playing. She wasn't there.

Eudora was smiling at me. Hers was a cunning, measured smile.

She was wearing another outfit from the old days, this one featuring a close fitting black bodice and flowing, voluminous white skirt with a floral pattern. Her hair was in curls, dropping down around her shoulders. She was Princess Di gorgeous, and everyone in the room seemed to know they were in the presence of royalty.

"Where's Lara?" I asked, my tongue sticking to the roof of my bone dry mouth.

"See? I told you. Those two can't get enough of each other," Eudora said, and laughed. When Eudora laughed, they all laughed with her. "Anyway, Mr. Butters, you understand my need for discretion in this matter," she said to my father.

"Absolutely. My lips are sealed. I'll be up to your place first thing in the morning to give you an estimate. And being as you're practically family, you'll get my best price," he replied with a wink and a smile. _So, that's where Troy gets it._ "Thanks for the business plug, Son."

"Umm. You're welcome," I said, still dry mouthed. I began looking around for butterflies.

My parents sat around small talking with Eudora for nearly an hour, while I stuffed my face with the little sandwiches my mother had laid out for the _Countess_. My family was overjoyed at having a wealthy person from North of the Boulevard in our living room, sitting on _our_ sofa, drinking _our_ tea. Every once in a while Eudora would gaze at me, her cunning, green eyes twinkling.

My family was a game to her, a toy she'd come down from her mountain top to play with. This little charade was to keep me in line, to remind me who was in charge.

Message received.

When the evening finally wound down, I walked Eudora out to her car, while my parents waved to her from the doorstep.

"What are you doing here?" I asked in a seething whisper as I pulled open the car door.

She seemed genuinely surprised—an Oscar worthy performance. "Josh, I'm just paying a visit to the family of my daughter's new boyfriend. I wanted to check you out, so-to-speak," she said, then she smiled and waved at my folks. "See you in the morning, Stan," she called out to my father.

You betcha," Dad replied, and they all went back inside.

"Stay away from my family," I said, raising my voice.

"The Nereid wish your family no harm, Josh, but we do need to protect our secret... at all costs." She got in, and pulled the car door shut. It was as if she were dismissing me. "I'm ready, Petros. Take me away from this place, please."

"I bet that Lycorian in my friend's pool would love to know about all those yummy faeries living in Benedict Canyon," I called out as the convertible was pulling away. The car screeched to a stop.

Eudora pivoted in her seat, facing me. A scowl had replaced the smug smile I'd been staring at all evening. Her eyes had become glowing, emerald lasers searing into me. "Do not threaten me, child!" she warned. Her voice had turned coarse and guttural.

A powerful gust of wind kicked up from the south. It slammed onto our street like a mini tornado, swirling dust, bending trees, and rattling windows. The force of it nearly knocked me over. The car alarm on Mr. Benson's Buick, two doors down, went off, as did the alarms on cars several streets over.

The Mercedes convertible retreated silently up the block, heading toward Wilshire Boulevard. As the car disappeared from sight, the wind slowly died.

When my father loaded up his truck to head up to the Applegate Fortress the following morning, he had a helper. Me. There was no way I was letting him go up to that strange place alone.

Of course, there was another, more powerful reason I was so very anxious to go back up there. Lara. All night, as I lay in bed, Eudora's words kept running through my mind like a song stuck on repeat: _I just had to meet the family of the young man who has stolen my little girl's heart._

Is it true? Had I stolen her little girl's heart? Does Lara have feelings for me, too?

I had to know. Lara needed to know how I felt about her, about the love song that played in my mind whenever she was near; about the way my stomach flipped and flopped when I sat next to her. I was falling in love with a girl who was practically a stranger. Was she falling in love with me, too?

_Yes,_ I thought. _Please make it so._

We reached the wrought iron gates of the Applegate fortress just before eight a.m. The gates were open.

"I've always wondered about this place. What's it like?" Dad asked. He was eying the path leading up to the house the way Dorothy must have eyed the yellow brick road. His face was filled with childlike wonder.

I had no idea what the Applegate home was like. I'd seen the rear of the property through the steam coming off the hot spring. I'd seen the meadow that held the gazebo, but that was it. That was as far as my knowledge of the Applegate fortress went.

"It's... nice," I said.

"I bet," he said. He accelerated through the gates, and then stopped. "Son, I really do want to thank you for mentioning the business. This is a big break for us. If Mrs. Applegate likes the job, she'll probably refer us to her rich friends. Could be the start of something big."

"My favorite song," I replied, not knowing what else to say.

My father smiled, and drove on.

We were midway up the drive that led to the house when the music started.

"Stop the car!" I called out.

Dad slammed on the brake. "What? What is it? Did I almost hit something?"

"I have to get out now, Dad. Don't ask me why. I have to go down there," I said pointing into the trees that lined the road. The path that led to the meadow was hidden from view.

"Sure. But you're okay, right?"

"Better than okay. Dad, I believe this is the start of something big for both of us." I smiled, and patted his hand on the steering wheel.

"I'll be mapping the property this morning, getting a sense of their requirements. Why don't I meet you up at the house in a few hours? Okay?" he said, with a smile.

"Okay," I replied. I leapt from the car, and sprinted into the trees. I found the path and followed it into the meadow. It appeared even more beautiful in the early morning sun. I could now see that the flowers were many rich shades of yellow, orange and pink. Colorful butterflies danced in the air.

In the distance, I could see that Lara was in the gazebo facing away from me.

I ran through the meadow feeling as though I'd been cast in a cheesy TV commercial. The music in my mind was sweeping and full. When my foot hit the bottom step of the gazebo, Lara wheeled around, gazing up from the small leather bound book she'd been reading.

She was gorgeous in a white maxi dress with green accents. Her close cut golden locks were radiant, long shafts of bright sunlight highlighting them.

"Joshua! What are you doing here?" She immediately began looking around in alarm.

"Relax. I didn't sneak up here. I'm a guest."

I told her of coming home the previous night, and finding her mother having tea in our living room; how her mother had offered my father a job installing a new security system so she could keep tabs on us.

"I'm sorry. My mother guards our secret fiercely."

"I'm not sorry," I said. "Your mother is under the impression you're _crazy_ about me." I ended it there, tingling with anticipation, hoping that she would fill in the blanks.

Her eyes moved to the meadow. She stepped away from me.

"Oh, Joshua," she said, my name coming out tortured.

Not exactly what I was expecting.

"Because I'm crazy about you." I could feel my voice turning raspy. I was overcome with the fear she'd say the wrong thing.

She faced me, her eyes welling up with tears.

I pointed to the book in her hands. "Is that Wordsworth you're reading?" I asked, changing the subject to keep her from saying what I didn't want to hear.

"Why?" she asked. This too, came out as one labored breath. "Why me?"

"I don't know why you! I don't have any control over it. I love you, Lara. As strange as it sounds, I know I do. I'm sure of it. I don't know how it's true, but it is, and I need to know how you feel about me?" This time my question was more pointed, more direct.

A tiny smile appeared on her lips. It was like a shaft of sunlight pushing through rain clouds.

"I care for you, too," She said in a quiet voice. "I don't know why, either. You're an insulting goofball."

I did not see that one coming.

"Okay, it's not the most flattering thing a girl has ever said to me, but... okay," I said in response. I took in a shallow breath, slowly accepting that this beautiful young woman who had somehow stolen my heart had feelings for me as well.

She laughed, and it was if she was allowing herself to feel my love. Her laughter was high and free. "You _are_ cute," she said, dipping her eyes, suddenly turning shy.

I moved to her, and without another word, I kissed her. I pulled her into my arms, pushing all the emotion I'd been feeling since the day we'd met into that one kiss.

I crushed my lips against hers, and she clung to me, kissing me back in a way I'd never been kissed before, her tongue savoring the taste of me. As corny as it sounds, for a brief moment, I felt as though our hearts were truly one.

The kiss ended. We pulled back and smiled at each other with goofy, embarrassed grins. We were five year-olds who'd gotten caught with our hands in the cookie jar.

"Maybe now this music will stop," I said, my voice again turning raspy.

"Music?"

"Yes. Ever since the first day I saw you, a crazy, ancient song has been playing in my head. It starts to play every time you're near."

Her face began to fall, as if someone had just told her that her dog had died.

"Joshua, you have to forget about me," she said.

"Are you kidding? We just admitted we care for each other. I _love_ you."

Tears were now cascading down her cheeks. Her green eyes were suddenly radiating with pain.

"No, you don't. You think you do, but you don't. You have to forget about me," she repeated, her voice becoming distant and cold.

Moments earlier we were clinging to one another, enjoying in one another. Now she was telling me to forget. "What are you talking about? I know it's sudden, but we love each other," I said, my tone insistent.

I know she hadn't said the words _I love you_ , but spoken or not, I knew it was true. I _knew_ it... at least, I thought I did.

Doubt began creeping in.

"I never want to see you again." These words were more tortured than earlier. They came from a place of incredible pain.

She turned and fled, running from the gazebo, and sprinting across the meadow. I watched her go, and with each step she took away from me, my heart grew heavier, the weight of it rendering me so, so tired. I felt as though I could no longer go on. I slumped onto the bench.

"Lara," I whispered.

My world had gone from an incredibly beautiful place to being wiped away in a fell swoop, as if a tsunami had blitzed through my soul leaving behind a wasteland of despair.

When I gazed back into the meadow, Lara was gone, and yet the song in my head played on.

### Chapter Twelve

An Aside

The butterfly glided out of the gazebo, floating away from Josh and Lara, and up into the air. The butterfly was a Monarch, and like the Countess, the butterfly considered itself royalty.

A butterfly's existence is a precarious one. At any moment one could be eaten by a predator, or swatted for sport by a human being. The Nereid never swatted butterflies for sport. The Nereid took care of the butterflies, which is why so many flocked to them.

The life cycle of a butterfly was also precarious. Some species only lived a few days, or a week, but this butterfly's species lived for a year, longer if the butterfly was lucky enough to be serving the Nereid. This particular butterfly was lucky enough. This butterfly had survived many years, and in that time she remained a loyal, vigil servant of the Countess.

The butterfly floated through the wide open downstairs window of the large Applegate mansion. She winged her way up the sweeping staircase, and down a long corridor where she found the Countess in her study poring over some documents.

The butterfly floated up to the Countess, and whispered in her ear.

When the butterfly was finished whispering, she headed back downstairs, back through the open downstairs window, and on into the meadow where she hoped to pick up more juicy pieces of information to share with the Countess.

The Countess was indeed pleased.

When the butterfly whispered in her ear, the Countess perked up, her face awash with surprise and delight, for what the butterfly had whispered was more than juicy gossip, it was a life altering nugget that could possibly change everything.

The Countess rose to her feet as the butterfly exited the room.

"Petros!" the Countess called. "Come. I have something to tell you."

### Chapter Thirteen

I found my father outside the front door of the great mansion, tape measure in hand, whistling as he worked.

"You're back sooner than I expected," Dad said when I walked up. "Everything all right?"

"Everything is excellent." I said, forcing a smile. "How's it going with you?"

After Lara had run off, I'd remained in the gazebo getting myself together. The song continued playing in my head. Lara was gone, and yet the song played on, loud and full, a bitter reminder of my moment of happiness.

I didn't want my father to see the emotional beating I'd suffered. This was a good day for him, the best in a long time. I didn't want my troubles to ruin it.

"This is a big job, bigger than I thought. It could take at least a week to complete. A little shorter if I had help," he said, gazing at me with a wry smile.

"I'll help you, Dad. It is our family business, right?"

He laughed. "Right. And this time, I'll pay you. You're going to need some cash in your pocket to wine and dine that girl of yours is style. And when I say 'wine' it is just an expression."

My forced smile widened, even though the mention of Lara caused me pain. "I know, Dad. I know."

For the next twenty minutes, my father whistled as we worked together outside. He was happy, working with his son on a project that was going to keep us out of the poor house.

I was happy for him, yet the thought of what would happen to him if he caught a glimpse of Petros or Rive encroached on that happiness. Would the same threat hanging over my head hang over his, or would his punishment be more severe?

Just after noon, a woman in her early thirties came out with two frosty glasses of lemonade. The woman was beautiful, with auburn hair, and sexy, oval shaped eyes.

"I am Asia, Eudora's youngest sister," she said, her voice tinkling like soft piano music. Her smile was warm and inviting.

We exchanged pleasantries, and she told my father to come inside when we were finished. He'd find Eudora in the downstairs parlor.

"The Applegate women are real lookers," Dad said after she'd gone back inside. "And all so charming. I can't wait to meet your girl. What's her name again?"

"Lara."

"Lara. What a nice name. I look forward to meeting her."

I wanted that. More than anything, I wanted to be able to introduce _my_ father to _my_ girl.

When Dad was finished taking measurements, we went inside and Dad examined the entryway, jotting a few more things down in his notebook.

Okay," he said. "I have an idea of what we're looking at here. Let's go find Eudora."

It was an incredible mansion, containing huge rooms with high ceilings, and a sweeping staircase that dominated the entryway. It was hard to believe a simple girl like Lara lived in such a grand palace. Light spilled in from floor to ceiling windows, and there were flowers and large potted plants everywhere, giving the home a luxurious, outdoorsy feel.

From the outside, the mansion appeared to be falling apart, yet once we were indoors we discovered that nothing could be further from the truth. An outsized portrait of the movie star, Terrence Applegate, hung in the entryway. It appeared to have been painted a long time ago, when Terrence Applegate was quite young. He wore a stylish sport coat, and a hat atop his head. He stared at the artist as if staring into the lenses of a camera. His fiery green eyes seemed to project a warning.

Dad gave a soft whistle as he gazed at the marble floors and expensive decor. "This is some place. I wonder why they haven't fixed up the exterior."

"For years, all my friends thought the Applegate Fortress was haunted. I think the Applegates like it that way."

Dad nodded. "Makes sense, I guess."

We found Eudora in the downstairs parlor of the great mansion.

Overstuffed chairs were in abundance and a smaller, oval-shaped copy of the Terrence Applegate portrait hung above the mantle. Eudora was styled in yet another outfit from the fifties. This time it was an oversized man's shirt hanging loose over Capri jeans, cuffed at the calves. Her hair was tied up once again, this time with a blue polka dot bandana.

"Gentlemen, come in," she said. Her eyes were on me, and she was smiling. I'm sure it was meant to be a gracious smile, but upon seeing the smile, a shiver rode through my belly. I'd never been smiled at like that before. I couldn't put my finger on what it was that unnerved me about the smile. All I knew was I didn't like it.

The business conversation between Dad and Eudora got underway. I listened for a while, but my mind began to wander. Once I was convinced that Petros and Rive weren't going to make an appearance, I excused myself, saying I'd leave my father and Eudora to do their thing. I told Dad I'd meet him outside by the truck when they were done, and I exited the parlor.

But I did not go back outside.

When I exited, the song in my head was playing louder, and I knew if I followed the music, the volume would increase until I found Lara.

I don't know when I made the decision, but suddenly, finding Lara, and fixing the thing that had made her run off in tears was something I was compelled to do.

I reached the foot of the sweeping staircase. Terrence Applegate gaped at me from the far wall. He seemed to be warning: _Do not go upstairs_.

But the music was coming from upstairs.

I looked around, making sure I was alone, and started up. I was nervous about creeping around in a stranger's home, especially after being caught snooping around outside. I'd been warned about the dangers of Eudora Applegate. What would she do if she discovered I'd been snooping again?

Yet despite the warning, I was determined not to let my nerves keep me from perusing Lara. There was a little voice inside telling me "This is stupid! It's over. Let it go." Yet another voice told me "It can't be over. It has just begun." This last voice was the one I listened to, the one that propelled me upstairs.

I was midway up when Rive appeared atop the landing.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

I stopped short, realizing the threat hanging over my head just became more real.

"Umm... bathroom," I said, trying to act natural.

I gazed over my shoulder, back downstairs, making sure my father hadn't left the parlor yet. His exiting the parlor just then could be disastrous.

"There's one downstairs," Rive said.

Rive was a big man... okay, half man, his bare torso chiseled like Adonis, his bottom half a hairy, grotesque animal.

"Okay, thanks," I said. I spun around and started back down as quickly as I could.

"Here, I'll show you," he called.

"No, no, that's okay. I'll find it."

"This is a big place. You can get lost in here. I will show you," he said. The sound of his heavy hooves coming down ricocheted off the high ceiling. It sounded as though someone had let a horse loose in the house.

"It's all right. I got it," I called over my shoulder.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard my father's voice. He was chatting and laughing with Eudora as they exited the parlor.

I made a U-turn and headed in the opposite direction. I had no idea what was down the corridor, but it would take me and, hopefully Rive, away from my father.

"You're going the wrong way," Rive called.

"I've changed my mind. I don't have to go anymore."

"Rive," Eudora called out. "I want you to meet a new friend of ours, Stan Butters."

"Hello. It's a pleasure to meet you," I heard Rive say.

I stopped moving, and stood fearful, and frozen.

### Chapter Fourteen

Slowly, I turned.

Rive was shaking hands with my father, who was smiling. _Smiling!_ He was doing an amazing job of pretending he hadn't noticed that Rive was not human.

My mom was always commenting on how unobservant Dad was, but a shirtless giant with cloven hooves was hard not to notice, even for him.

"Rive, is my sister, Asia's, paramour," said Eudora. Her eyes found me, and I could tell she was enjoying my mortification.

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Rive. That's an interesting name. Don't believe I've heard it before," Dad said.

"I am an original," Rive said, and chuckled. "So, you're the man who's going to make things safer around here," he went on.

"Once the equipment is installed, your paramour's family will be able to monitor the interior of the house, the exterior, as well as the entire grounds. You'll be as safe as safe can be."

"That's good to hear," said Eudora. "We had an intruder the other day." She looked at me.

"Really?" asked my father.

"Just a lookie-loo. It was nothing we couldn't handle," Eudora said.

Just then, Rive flexed his rippling muscles.

"It did let me know we needed better protection," Eudora added, her gaze again finding me. She was smiling that smile again. "Are you all right, Josh? You seem pale."

"Yeah, I'm... Dad, we gotta get out of here. I mean... I forgot I had a... school thing to take care of." I began hustling toward my father.

"That's fine. I'm done for the day," Dad said.

"But you will be back tomorrow?" Eudora asked.

"Of course. I plan to start the installation first thing in the morning."

"Good, good. So glad I can do business with someone who's practically family," Eudora said, and smiled at me again.

She was really messing with my head.

I reached my father's side, and began pulling him toward the door. "Dad, it's really important. I need to get back home."

I didn't know how long he could keep up the act of pretending a creature wasn't standing right in front of him. As I dragged him away, I got the feeling that when I opened the door, Petros would be standing there, and then Dad and I would both be toast.

"All right, all right, don't be so rude," Dad said as he allowed me to pull him away from Eudora and the satyr.

"It's perfectly understandable," called Eudora. "I sympathize with the impetuousness of youth. We were all young once."

We reached the door. I yanked it open. The doorway was clear. The path to the truck was clear, but I didn't know for how long.

"Goodbye, everyone. See you soon," I called as I pulled my father out the front door. I scanned the area for Petros.

"I look forward to it," Eudora said.

"We all do," said Rive.

They were both standing in the doorway as I dragged my father to the truck.

"What has gotten in to you?" he asked, getting annoyed.

"I'll explain everything in a few minutes. Just get in the truck and drive— _fast_ ," I said in a low urgent tone.

"All right, already!"

I dove into the passenger seat as Dad climbed in behind the wheel. He waved goodbye as the truck began heading back up the drive toward the public street.

"Dad, you cannot tell anyone what you saw back there," I said.

"I know. I realize they're secretive people. Like you said, it's why they keep the exterior looking so shabby."

"I'm not talking about the house, Dad. I'm talking about Rive."

"Ah. What do you think he is..."

"A satyr," I blurted.

"...French? He asked, completing his thought. "What did you say?"

We drove through the wrought iron gates and onto Benedict Canyon Road. I released a whistling sigh once we were off the Applegate property. I didn't believe they'd come after us in broad daylight.

"Dad, it's okay now. You can stop pretending you didn't see what you saw."

"Okay." He was silent for a few moments. "Son, are you all right?"

It was then it dawned on me that somehow my father hadn't seen Rive for what he really was. I had no idea how Eudora and Rive had pulled it off. Some kind of spell, I guess. Dad seemed to be none-the-wiser.

I didn't have time to think about what my dad did or didn't see. Just then, my cell phone started to vibrate. I yanked it from my pocket, hoping it was Lara, come to her senses. Instead, I saw the call was from Alan. He'd called three times, but I hadn't heard the phone. When I answered, he told me to hustle my butt over to his house right away.

My father gazed at me, after I hung up. "Did you say... a sadist?"

Neither Alan nor Conner were on the rear deck when I arrived at the Feinman's around noon. I entered the house through the sliding glass doors. As soon as I was inside, I heard voices coming for Alan's bedroom.

When I entered, Conner was seated at the desk in front of Alan's computer. He was still wearing long pants in the middle of summer, and I wondered if the wound on his leg had gotten infected.

Alan was pacing, and agitated.

"Where the fuck have you been? I've been calling you for hours," Alan said.

Alan didn't use profanity. That was Conner's territory. The fact he was using it now meant something had really upset him.

"I was helping my father on a job. I didn't hear the phone." I decided to keep where I'd gone to help my father private for the time being.

"Okay, you're the tie-breaker," Alan said. He stopped pacing and faced me.

"For what?" I asked.

"Alan wants to go to the police," Conner said. "I told him, we go to the police with this, they'll keep us under surveillance until we're out of high school—longer."

I turned back to Alan. "Why do you want to go to the police?"

"Because somebody is _fucking_ with us big time!" he replied, raising his voice.

"Keep it down, bro. Your Mom is right down the hall," Conner said, taking an unusual role for him—profanity police.

"The cameras picked up the creature, didn't they?" I asked. I gazed at Conner who gazed at Alan. The skin on my arms began to tingle.

"There is no creature!" Alan said. "What there is, is someone..." he lowered his voice "... _messing_ with us."

"You didn't have to lower your voice for that," Conner said. "You didn't curse." He peered at me over his shoulder. "Check it out."

Conner began punching something up on the computer. While I was adept at helping my father install the surveillance equipment, Conner was the real geek in our crew. He could operate anything technical like a pro. It was a gift.

I moved in, and peered at the screen over Conner's shoulder.

Alan flopped down on the bed. "It's Gary Shanks," he said. "He's got motive," he added. He turned his head away, not willing to look at what Conner was about to show me.

"Ignore him. He's paranoid," Conner said.

He began playing back the footage the cameras had picked up the previous night. A grainy image of the Feinman rear deck appeared on the computer screen.

"It was like this until around two a.m. Then this happened."

After a few moments, the infrared light came on, flooding the deck with eerie light. I stared at the deck for another few minutes. It remained empty.

"Nothing," I said. "Must have been a bug that triggered the sensor."

"Yeah, that's what we thought. But it would have to have been a pretty big bug, and I didn't see any," Conner said as he stopped the playback.

At that moment, I thought of the butterflies.

"So I decided to slow it down, and check it out frame-by-frame. Watch."

Conner began rolling the video back, and as he did, Alan rose from the bed. He drifted over and stood by my side. His left leg was shaking.

Once the video was re-racked, Conner began playing back the images frame-by-frame. This time, when the infrared light came on, a nearly imperceptible ghostly image appeared in the frame. The image was very faint. I might have missed it if I hadn't been watching carefully.

"See that?" said Conner, pointing at the screen.

"Oh, yeah," I said, dry mouthed, my nose inching in closer to the screen. "It looks like..."

Conner finished my sentence for me. "...a creature."

"With lobster claws," I said under my breath.

"It's a trick," Alan blurted, "a camera trick." He pointed at the screen. "It doesn't even look real."

I shouldn't have been surprised. I knew there was a creature. I knew the creature could move at speeds we couldn't see with the naked eye. Lara had told me this, and yet seeing the thing right before my eyes, still threw me for a loop.

It was five feet in height, and scaly like the _Black Lagoon_ creature in that old movie, only in the movie, the creature looked like a man in a rubber suit, and this creature looked very real. In place of hands were pincer-like claws.

"Whoa," I softly exclaimed.

The ghostly image moved in stuttering flip-book fashion toward the hedge that separated the Feinman home from the Dupree's. After several frames, a light came on in the Feinman kitchen. The creature ducked down. And then, right before our eyes, the creature began to shrink in size.

We looked on, frame-by-frame, as the creature turned and headed back toward the pool, slowly diminishing in size. It was as if we were watching a flower wilting in stop motion photography.

"It's shrinking," I said in a raspy whisper.

"Camera trick!" Alan called out.

"It turns into something like a tadpole before flipping back into the water," Conner said.

In another moment, the light in the Feinman kitchen went out, then the light flooding the deck went out. I saw a tiny ripple on the top water at the edge of the pool, and then the images stopped playing. The screen went black.

Conner looked up into my eyes. "You were right. It wasn't a dream. And did you see those claws? _Those_ are what put the scratches on my leg, not Lara."

"Yeah," I said, the word creeping out in a long, slow crawl.

"So... what do you think we should do?" Conner asked.

"We need to have Gary Shanks arrested for trespassing!" Alan called out from behind me.

Conner and I turned, peering at our friend as if he'd lost his mind. After a few moments, Alan plopped back down onto the bed. He blew out a long, shaky breath.

"That isn't Gary Shanks in the video, is it?" His left leg was shaking again.

### Chapter Fifteen

If Roxanne Dupree was surprised to see the three of us standing on her doorstep, she hid it well.

"Alan, and his friends. How lovely," she said. Her smile was a little too gracious, a little too practiced. "Do come in. Alexia is in her room, reading. Let me get her for you."

Roxanne, was as beautiful and radiant as ever. A flower had been placed in her hair. She reminded me of a smoky blues singer from the thirties or forties, gazing at us with her sultry eyes. The Nereid women certainly had style.

"Any more trouble out of that disgruntled relative?" I asked.

"Gracious, no," she replied, her smile faltering for just a moment. "The glass in the door has been repaired. Thankfully, last night was event free."

I glanced quickly at each of the guys. I told them before we left that I was certain both Alexia and Roxanne Dupree knew about the creature. I said I couldn't tell them how I knew just yet, but to go along with whatever I said once we got there. They were both too stunned from watching the video to argue.

Roxanne left us parked on the living room sofa, and went down the hall to get Alexia. I gazed through the newly repaired sliding glass door and into the yard. An abundance of butterflies frolicked out on the deck. If it had been the springtime, in a garden full of flowers, all the butterflies might have made sense, but not here, in the middle of summer. My stomach began a slow churn.

"This is stupid!" Alan blurted. "What are we doing here?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "I'm making it up as I go."

" _Please_ don't ruin my relationship with Alexia. Okay?"

I started to say _You don't have a relationship with Alexia. She's got you under some kind of spell._ But then I thought of the music still playing in my head, and decided to keep my thoughts to myself.

People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.

"Alan!" Alexia chimed as she entered with her mother. "Did we have plans?"

"I, umm... No," Alan said, his voice turning small. He gazed at me, hitting me with a stare that said _Don't mess this up for me_.

"I encouraged Alan to stop by," I said, coming to his rescue.

"I'll go make some lemonade," Roxanne said. She started from the room.

"Actually, Mrs. Dupree, this concerns you as well," I called out.

"Oh?" she said, stopping. "Is something wrong, Alan?" she asked, not looking at me. She was trying to hold onto her smile, but that was a lost cause.

"Umm... Yeah," he said, his voice a whisper.

"It's about the creature in Alan's swimming pool," Conner said.

I hadn't planned on springing it on them so suddenly, but it had to be done.

The women exchanged quick, concerned glances.

"Tell your friend to stop playing, Alan... _baby_ ," Alexia said, turning on the charm. "He's scaring me."

"There _is_ a creature in my pool," Alan said, surprising me he was finally admitting it. "I... saw it with my own eyes."

"And he's there because of you," I said, and then my gaze found Roxanne. "And you."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you boys to leave. I assume you've been drinking to play such a cruel joke on my daughter." Roxanne fixed us with a chastising gaze and a furrowed brow. "Don't make me call your parents."

The threat was totally uncalled for. Her remark was a strong indication we'd struck a nerve.

"Alexia, the Lycorian in Alan's pool attacked Conner. You were right there. It could have killed him," I said raising my voice.

When I said _Lycorian_ , Alexia's eyes bulged.

"I want you three out of here, now!" Roxanne bellowed, "Or I swear, I will call your parents, or the authorities."

I ignored her, moving closer to Alexia. "We leave here, and maybe the next time that Lycorian strikes it isn't a dead coyote that winds up in somebody's pool, it's one of your neighbors. Is that what you want?"

"No," Alexia blubbered, caving instantly. Tears sprang into her eyes.

"We caught it on video last night. It was coming for you when Alan's Dad got up for a late night glass of water. If he hadn't turned on the light in the kitchen, it would have struck again," said Conner.

Alexia looked at her mother. There was a silent storm brewing in her eyes. "I told you we should move!" she screeched.

"Alexia, enough!" Roxanne said in a measured tone, attempting to suppress her daughter's surfacing anger.

"You never listen to me! We need to go back to the compound. We need to go where we're safe."

"I want to make you safe," Alan said in a small voice. He looked at Alexia with puppy dog eyes. "Don't go. Tell us how to kill it."

It didn't take long for Roxanne to cave along with her daughter. She told us they had left the safety of the Applegate fortress because of the negative effect Eudora was having on Alexia.

"That's not true, Mother, and you know it," Alexia said in a low growl. You're just jealous of Aunt Eudora. Admit it!"

Roxanne ignored Alexia and went on tell us that the Lycorian must have wandered into the neighborhood, caught their scent and hid in the pool drain of Alan's pool, biding its time.

I'd already heard this from Lara, but the guys hadn't heard any of it before.

"Caught your scent? You don't smell any different than anyone else," Alan said.

"Oh, Alan, I've been so afraid. I should have told you what was going on days ago. Thank you for rescuing us," Alexia, said, making her voice go soft and helpless as if she were a child.

Alan, Conner and I were seated on the sofa. Alexia came over, sat on Alan's lap, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "Please forgive me."

It was a diversionary tactic, a way to keep from bringing up that she and her mother were water nymphs, and indeed, very different from us.

The sliding glass door caught my eye. A dozen butterflies had alighted there. I wondered how much they could hear.

"Of course I forgive you. Don't worry. We're going to kill the creature," Alan said in a soft, sweet voice I'd never heard him use before. He ran his hand through her hair.

"Is that possible?" I asked Roxanne.

"Yes," she said. "It can be killed."

"Lycorians can be defeated in water," Alexia added, then she kissed the top of Alan's head. "You need to lure the creature into the center of the pool, baby."

"You will need a weapon to defeat it," Roxanne said.

Alexia gazed at her mother and rolled her eyes.

"What kind of weapon?" Alan asked. He looked into Alexia's big, blue eyes—the ones she'd just rolled. She looked away.

"An enchantment," Roxanne replied. "The enchantment will slow the creature down and not allow it to use its speed to escape."

"An enchantment? Where would we get something like that?" asked Conner.

Roxanne sighed, as if telling us how to kill the creature was an annoyance for her. "The Lycorian must be out of water and at his full size, only then should you apply the enchantment. Once he has been enchanted, you need to get him back into the pool. The water will slow him even more. Lycorians are not agile. Once he is enchanted and back in the water, he will be big and sluggish. He should be an easy kill."

Conner rose from the sofa. "Excuse me, but that sounds fucking ridiculous!"

"Watch your mouth, Conner," Alan called.

"An enchantment? Are we supposed to believe in fairytales now?"

"Conner!" Alan barked.

"What? Your mother's next door, Alan. She can't hear me _fucking_ cursing all the way over here!"

"There are ladies present," Alan said. He pushed Alexia off his lap, and got to his feet. His chivalry gene had been nicked. He balled his fists.

"You wanna fight me now?" Conner asked, taking a step toward him.

"Whoa, fellas, calm down. We're just worked up is all," I said getting between them.

"You bet we're worked up. Hey, bro, the next time you volunteer a friend to kill a creature, ask first!" Conner called around me. "You wanna know what you can do with your _enchantment_?"

"We're going to need a time out," I said to the ladies. I had a hand on each of the guy's chests. "We're going next door and get this sorted out," I said. "Come on, guys. Let's go outside and talk it over."

Before we left, Alexia dove into Alan's arms, and pulled him into a long hug. "Thank you so much, Alan. You're my hero, you know that?" she crooned into his ear.

This time, Roxanne rolled her eyes.

### Chapter Sixteen

Instead of going back to Alan's, I suggested we take a walk. Being in Alan's yard, near the pool, would only fan the fires of their flaring tempers.

An awkward silence descended upon us as we walked. I searched for the right, clever words to conjure up a smile. A joke. An insult. We enjoyed insulting one another. It was the kind of thing that always got us laughing—but not today. I talked about our favorite video games, about Conner getting the part of Atticus Finch in the fall play. Nothing worked.

Eventually, we wound up on Beverly Drive. It was just after three, and the mamas would be gathering over at Yo, Mama Hill. I suggested we go for a yogurt, and an ogle.

Not even a smile.

As we were nearing Yogurt Hill, a group of girls exited the shop, among them was Shannon Murphy. Shannon was tall, and a bit gawky, but she had a killer figure and killer smile. Alan had had a crush on her since the eighth grade.

"Shannon Murphy at twelve o'clock," I murmured, nudging Alan in the side.

"So? What about her?"

"Dude, Shannon Murphy!" Conner exclaimed. "You've been wanting her to sit on your face for as long as I can member."

Alan made sound of disgust at Conner's lewd remark, "I got a girl," he replied.

It had been three days since Alan had ventured past the three word limit with Alexia, and now he was claiming she was his girl. She really had a hold on him. I was certain it was the result of some kind of spell. It had to be.

Didn't Lara have a hold on me?

_Mine is different,_ I told myself. _Mine is love, mutual and shared..._ which is why my girl told me _I never want to see you again._

And the song played on.

"Sorry about cursing when we were at Alexia's earlier," Conner said. It was his first words of conciliation since we'd started walking. "It's just that first we see the impossible—a creature in your swimming pool, and then we find out we need to kill it with something out of a fairytale. I mean, come on."

I understood where Conner was coming from, and I was right there with him. The idea that there was an enchanted universe existing right alongside ours was hard to believe, and yet we both knew it was true.

"Sorry, bro, but to me, what you're talking about doing seems fool hardy." He gazed at Alan, his expression softening.

With Conner's apology, I felt the cloud of tension begin to lift.

"Fool hardy for who?" Alan asked. There was an edge to his voice, and the cloud settled back over us.

I didn't like taking sides, but I had to agree with Conner. I had the feeling Roxanne wasn't giving us the whole truth about killing the Lycorian, that there was an important piece of information she had chosen to leave out.

"I'm not trying to be a jerk, Alan, but are we really going to fight a creature?" Conner asked. "Us? We're not athletic. I don't know about you, but I haven't been in a fight since the third grade, and that was with a girl, a very little girl, and I lost! This is not World of Warcraft—which I suck at, by the way—this is real."

Conner's words seemed to have an effect on Alan. He nodded. "You're right. I shouldn't have volunteered you." His chest heaved in a deep sigh. "But I _have_ to do this."

"I know you do. But _I_ don't," Conner said.

We reached the front of the yogurt shop.

"If they have Sinfully Chocolate and Peanut butter, I'm getting them swirled," I said.

Alan eyed Conner thoughtfully. "It's all right. We're still boys." A small smile appeared on his lips.

"No doubt," Conner replied.

They moved in for a man hug.

"Me and Josh will take care of the creature," Alan said when they drew apart.

And like that synchronized swim move exhibited in Alan's backyard a few days earlier, all eyes moved to me.

I offered up a guilty smile. "What are you guys having?"

Truth be told, I wanted no part of the creature in Alan's pool. Wasn't this a Nereid problem? I felt I should tell Eudora, and let Petros and Rive come and deal with it.

Alan and Conner had no idea of the existence of water nymphs or the satyrs who defended them, but I did. Perhaps it was time to bring in an expert.

I also thought that if the Duprees moved back up to the Applegate fortress, as Alexia had originally suggested, the creature would eventually realize his tasty meal was no longer available, and leave.

I formulated a plan. Alan was my best friend. I couldn't let him face the creature alone— _that_ would be like signing his death warrant. So I needed to stall. If I could get him to wait a few days, Alexia might be able to convince her mother it was too dangerous for them to stay. Once the Duprees moved out of the house, our problem would be solved.

I decided to go along with whatever Alan said, and hope something would happen in the next few days to keep us from having to battle the Lycorian to the death... ours, no doubt.

"We should go to the sporting goods store and buy spear guns," Alan said.

He was hyped about killing the creature. He went on and on about the exotic ways he could kill it all the way back home. He made it sound as though we were planning a boss fight in a video game.

"Hey Butterball, how were you so sure Roxanne and Alexia knew about the creature?" Conner asked.

I looked around for butterflies. All clear.

"I can't tell you guys just yet. Go along with me for a few more days, and all will be revealed," I said in a mock-ominous TV voice. I was using the voice to make light of a very serious situation.

"Sure, man, whatever you say. We're in this together no matter what," Alan said. He was smiling at me. I'd seen that smile before, filled with shared trust and mutual respect.

At that moment, the weirdest thing happened, the song that had been playing in my head turned sad. I'd gotten used to the song that was always there, treating like background noise. The change, however, forced me to pay attention as the lilting notes became low and dirge-like. It was as if the music knew I was heading down a path of no return.

Before we parted, Alan told us he was going to stay up all night monitoring the footage of the rear deck. He said, if the light came on, he was going to go into the kitchen and grab a few ginsu knives, then spring out onto the deck like a ninja.

"I'll roll out there like a whirling dervish of raw steel. If I don't kill him, betcha I at least cut him good."

Conner and I exchanged worried glances.

We eventually talked him out of becoming a whirling dervish of raw steel, and into turning on the kitchen light, if the infrared out on the deck came on.

"Remember, we've got to do this together," I told him.

"Oh, yeah. You and me, we're the Legion of Doom. We're gonna tag team that creature's behind," Alan said, and gave a primal scream.

I again eyed Conner. Our friend had gone from video games to supervillain tag team wrestling. The good news was it was sounding as if he wouldn't be doing any creature wrestling without me—at least, not for the night.

When I got home, I was surprised to find our house filled with the delicious fragrance of home cooking. My mother was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for us all to sit down to together as a family.

"I'm glad you're home. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes," she called, looking up momentarily from the stove. "Clean yourself up now."

"We having company?"

"No. Just us," she replied.

I went down the hall to Troy's room. He was lying on the bed, still in his Best Buy work shirt.

"What's up with, Mom? We only sit down together for dinner on holidays."

"For her, it is a holiday. She's happy about what you did for Dad," he said. He sat up. "So, you're dating a rich girl, huh?"

I nodded. The mention of Lara was another reminder of the sad version of the song playing in the background.

"Tell me about her?" he slid to the edge of the bed.

"She's all right." I came and sat down next to him.

"You remember everything I taught you?"

"Yep." I smiled and winked at him before he got the chance to wink at me.

"That's my baby bro," he said. He grabbed me around the head in a playful headlock and gave me a noogie.

When I was little, Troy's noogies annoyed me to no end. This noogie, however, gave me a warm feeling inside. It was like a slice of hot apple pie during the holidays. You didn't realize how delicious it was, and how much you missed it until you had that first taste.

Dad was unusually chatty at dinner. He described the Applegate fortress in great detail, and told the family how warm and gracious Eudora Applegate had been.

"I still haven't met Josh's young lady yet, although he did sneak off to see her this morning," he said. He looked at me across the table and I knew what was coming. Yep. He winked at me.

"You're so secretive," Mom said. Her eyes were shining. It was the happiest I'd seen my parents in many years.

If only you knew the half of it, Mom. If only you knew.

After dinner, Dad, helped Mom load the dishwasher. They were laughing together as I exited the kitchen. I made the excuse of having some summer reading to catch up on, and headed off to my room to think. I had a lot to think about: winning Lara back, getting the creature out of Alan's pool without having to do battle with it, and Eudora's threat that still hung over our heads like the Sword of Damocles (if you're keeping score, that's footnote #2—Not!).

I entered my room, and through the darkness, I saw a figure seated on the edge of my bed. My breath caught as her green eyes twinkled in the darkness. It was Lara.

### Chapter Seventeen

"I... What... Do my parents know you're here?"

She shook her head.

"How did you get back here?"

"The front door was unlocked, and I've been known to move pretty fast," she said, her tremulous voice sending waves of excitement dancing through me. She smiled.

The music inside my head, swelled. It was the same sad tune, but I didn't care. My heart began beating so rapidly I thought it might come bursting through my chest like in _Alien_.

I entered, easing the door shut behind me. I leaned against it, trying to strike a casual pose, despite the fact there was nothing casual about how I was feeling. I turned on the light and gazed over at her on the bed. So radiant. So gorgeous. I continued leaning against the door, feeling if I attempted to stand on two feet I just might fall down.

_She's here. She's actually here,_ I thought.

I didn't blink for a full minute for fear I'd blink her away. Once I was sure she was really there, a goofy grin slowly spread across my face.

"What's the matter with you? Why are you looking at me like that? Have you been drinking?" she asked.

"No, nothing like that. I'm just happy to see you. You look fantastic."

"Thank you," she said in her shy, sweet vibrato. She smiled, and it was as if the sun had risen in my bedroom. Never before had a smile been so welcome.

I regained my composure enough to walk over and sit next to her on the bed. My heart was still pounding against my chest, though. I snatched up her hand, raised it to my lips, and kissed it.

"Don't," she said, although she made no attempt to pull her hand away.

"Thank you for coming," I said. "Never thought I'd use this corny phrase, but 'what a pleasant surprise.'" I kissed her hand again.

The smile on her lips began to fade, and I released her hand for fear she'd run off, and disappear into the night.

"What's wrong?" I said.

"I'm not here for this. I'm here to warn you against trying to do battle with the creature in your friend's pool."

"How did you know?"

"My mother... She has spies," she said, averting her gaze.

The mention of spies stirred my suspicions, but I didn't want to press the issue. I wanted to take her in my arms.

"Why did you run off?" I said. It had been on my mind all day. I grasped her hand, again tried to kiss it, but this time she did pull away.

"The music," she said, her words coming as a soft whisper.

"The music in my head. You ran off when I told you about it."

"I know. I'm sorry." She looked at me thoughtfully. "Do you believe in soulmates?" she asked, peering deep into my eyes.

"I do now," I said, relaxing. I smiled, and rubbed the back of her hand.

"The Nereid believe that every living creature has a soulmate. Our souls exist long before we are ever born. Souls meet, and form relationships, which is why you can meet someone for seemingly the first time, and feel as if you've known them forever."

"It's because you _have_ known them forever," I said, following along.

"Yes," she replied. She grew silent for a moment. "Sometimes souls meet and fall in love."

"Us?" I asked, my tongue turning dry.

She nodded. "Us. Humans can make being with one's soulmate so difficult. Often times, humans meet their soulmate, feel the immediate connection, but then allow ego or fear to keep true love from ever materializing." She took a long breath. "But the Nereid always know their soulmate, because we hear the siren's song."

"It's the music in my head, isn't it?"

"Yes. Usually only the Nereid can hear it. We don't have egos or fear blocking the siren's song from being heard. But sometimes the love between two souls is so strong, a human soulmate can hear the music as well."

"So you hear the music, too?" I asked.

"I didn't at first... maybe because I didn't want to. But I hear it now."

My smile widened, and when it did, her face flooded with pain.

"I don't want to ruin your life, Joshua."

"We're soulmates. I love you and you love me. We've loved each other since before we were born. Ruin away!" I reached for her, and tried taking her into my arms. She pulled away, getting to her feet.

"No! It's not as easy as that. There's a price." Her words were once again tortured.

This time I _was_ listening. I quickly began putting the pieces together. Her running off that morning wasn't because she didn't care for me. Lara loved me as I loved her. Our souls had been in love for who knows how long. She ran off because there was some terrible consequence to our love. Whatever she was about to tell me, I didn't want to hear. And yet I asked.

"And what is the price?"

She peered into my eyes as tears welled up in hers. "Petros is my mother's soulmate."

"The satyr?"

"He wasn't always a satyr," she replied, her tears beginning to wash down her cheeks.

### Chapter Eighteen

I was on my feet, and pacing, allowing my mind to work through what I'd been told.

"Okay, okay. Your mom turned Petros into a satyr, for what, cheating on her?"

She laughed. It was the involuntary laugh a person makes when they've just heard something ridiculous.

"What?" I asked.

"You know the truth, Joshua. I know you do, and yet your mind won't allow you accept it. Petros is what becomes of a soulmate once they consummate their love."

"By consummate, you mean sex, right?"

She nodded, her eyes darting away.

"So if we never have sex, then our love is never consummated. If our love is never consummated, we can be together forever."

She laughed again.

Her laughter was starting to infuriate me. "What!?"

Her eyes warmed, and she came to me. "We love each other. We've loved each other all our lives, even though neither of us knew, even though we'd never met. But the love song knew, and it was always playing, drawing us to one another."

"That's why it sounded so familiar. It was always there."

"Yes," she replied, and she moved into my arms.

"It was always there, background noise, like the sound of your own heartbeat. And then we met." She planted a soft kiss on my lower lip, and the love song in my head grew to a crescendo. "For your sake, I cannot take the chance. One day we might slip and allow our desires for one another to get the best of us. We are young and passionate. Our passions will rise, and one day we will slip."

"I'm willing take that chance."

"But I cannot!" Her words were firm. She stiffened in my arms for a moment, and then... she melted into me. "You're a sweet, sweet boy. If I stay away from you, you can go on and have a life. You can graduate high school, go to college, have children."

"What good are those things without you... my soulmate?" My own words were now tortured.

"A week ago, you weren't even thinking of me. If I stay away long enough, you will forget. Most people never wind up with their soulmate."

Her statement caused an ache in my chest. "We're not most people!"

"You will forget me, Joshua. You must. And even if you don't, you will go on and have a life—a good life. If we stay together, you will become my slave. That's how it is with the Nereid. We're like some kind of black widow spider, or some other nasty creature out of the insect world. Our mates become our slaves, there to serve and protect us until we die. Most Nereid mate just to have a protector."

At that moment I thought of Alan.

"Do Nereid enchant men, boys, to fall in love with them so they can become their slaves?"

"Our species is all female and quite vulnerable. We must have men to protect us, but I want to save you from that."

"What if I don't want to be saved?"

My lips found hers, and I kissed her before she could reply.

She kissed me back.

Our passions rose, just as she had predicted. The kissing grew in intensity. We fell onto the bed. I knew I should stop, but I couldn't. She felt so soft, so good in my arms. She smelled wonderful: her hair, her body.

My shirt came off.

I don't know if I took it off, or she took it off. It was off, and she was planting sweet, sultry kisses all over my bare chest.

"Oh, Josh," she murmured. "We can't."

"We won't," I said, again finding her lips. I groped at her top, and the moment I did, she was up and off the bed, slipping out of my arms like Houdini out of a straightjacket.

"No!" she breathed as she stood over me, panting heavily.

"We won't," I reassured. "We're just kissing."

I was lying. In that moment I wanted her, and didn't care about consequences.

"Joshua, I didn't come here for this. I came to warn you not to battle the Lycorian. There is more to it than the Duprees are telling you. If you battle the creature, you and Alan will most surely die."

I ignored her warning. "Come," I said, reaching for her, trying to coax her into joining me back on the bed.

She was gone. A soft breeze ruffled my hair. My bedroom door was open, and she was no longer there.

I rushed over to the window, and threw it open.

"Come back! Tell me about the Lycorian," I screamed into the night, hoping to lure her back.

"You need to stop talking to yourself."

I spun around. Troy was standing in my doorway smirking at me. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I, umm... yeah," I repeated. "What's for dessert?"

That's when I noticed the book lying on my pillow. I recognized it as the book Lara was reading when I found her in the gazebo.

Later, after dessert, I came back to my room, closed the door, and lowered the lights. I opened the tiny leather bound book, and read.

The sun was peeking over the horizon by the time Dad and I finished loading up the truck the next morning. It was another gorgeous day in Southern California. We could see all the way to the San Gabriel Mountains. Southern California can be beautiful when we allow ourselves the time to get off our hamster wheels and take a moment to appreciate it.

Setting up the Applegate security system was going to be a big job, and Dad wanted to get started bright and early. So we mounted our hamster wheel, and rode out.

Dad was still in a great mood, talking up a storm as we drove across Beverly Drive and up into Benedict Canyon. I was not in a great mood.

The music teasing at the recesses of my thoughts served only to darken my spirits. The music reminded me that I had found my soulmate, but the price for being with her was too high _._

Stay near me—do not take flight!

A little longer stay in sight.

Much converse do I find in thee

Historian of my infancy.

When I read those words in the leather bound book Lara had left on my bed, my heart immediately shuddered with remorse over a relationship that was never to be. Yet now, in the light of day, I was beginning to see things differently.

_Screw love_ , I thought. _What has love ever gotten anyone aside from heartache?_ Lara was right about us, and in the light of day, I could see that. We'd just met. We didn't owe each other anything. I certainly didn't owe her my _life._

"There's something going on with you and your lady friend, isn't there?" my father said, drawing me out of my funk.

"Yeah," I said in one long, raspy breath.

He laughed inwardly. "Me and your mom had our share of lover's quarrels before we finally figured it out. It's all part of the deal, son. Things will work out. You'll see." He patted my leg.

If only that were true.

"Thanks, Dad," was about all I could manage. It was a far better response than: _It will never work out unless your son wants to become Lara's satyr slave._

We drove through the wrought iron gates onto the Applegate property, and the sad music in my head swelled. That was another thing. The song had turned sad to warn my soulmate that my life was in danger. And for what? I didn't need to take on the creature in Alan's pool. If the Duprees moved back to the Applegate fortress, the creature would eventually go back to where it came from. The creature was no danger to humans. We had no beef with the creature, no reason to fight it.

Too risky.

We began unloading the truck, and a horrible feeling came over me. Shame. It started as a ripple in my belly and mushroomed into my chest. I was ashamed of the way I'd been thinking.

"This is some bull," I mumbled under my breath. _Why should I feel ashamed?_ I didn't owe Lara or Alexia anything, and neither did Alan. We were having a fine summer, a fine life until _they_ came along.

Shame, shame, go away.

"You sure you're all right. You're talking to yourself over there," my father called, as he pulled down a large roll of cable.

"I'm fine. Say, Dad, would it bother you if the Applegates didn't become family?

"Heck no," he said with warm chuckle that brought a smile to my face. "You're fifteen, Josh. Very few young men meet the girl of their dreams at fifteen. If you're anything like your old man, you've got a lot more dating in you. Trust me."

Just when I thought his words were going to cheer me up, he reminded me that I'd already met the girl of my dreams, my soulmate. I swear, I did not see that one coming.

Dad told me to start positioning the sensors on the front door while he went around to the rear of the house.

The front door was left unlocked so we could come and go. I pushed it open, fired up the drill and went to work, punching in the first hole at the top of the door. Once the hole went clear through, I began stringing wire.

"Good morning," a voice called out, startling me. I turned around. Petros was standing just behind me. How could I have not heard him coming?

In broad daylight, I could see how incredibly fit he was. His forearms bulged, his six pack had a six pack. I also noticed what a good looking guy he was... or what a good looking guy he used to be.

"Oh, hey," I said. I started to turn around and get back to work. Looking at him standing there was creeping me out.

"Allow me to help."

Part of the creep out was I'd been picturing myself as a satyr, and the picture was not pretty. I saw myself walking around the Applegate estate showing off my puny arms and concave chest for everyone to laugh at. _No way!_

"We don't need your help," I said, and went back to work. Petros was more than creeping me out, his presence reminded me of my shame.

"Don't be like that. We're practically family," he said.

I couldn't tell if he was being friendly or condescending, and frankly, I didn't care. I whipped back around.

"No we're not! I'm never going to be a part of your family, so if you're looking for a little buddy to go galloping around with in the meadow, look somewhere else."

His nostrils flared, and for some reason, I found it funny.

I snickered.

"I could rip your head off," he said lowering his voice.

"But you won't, will you? I don't think the Countess would like you ripping off the head of her daughter's boyfriend very much. So be a good little goat and—"

I was off the floor. Petros had picked me up so quickly, I didn't realize it happening. The creature was strong, holding me above his head as if I were a small child. And then, I was flying.

### Chapter Nineteen

Okay, I wasn't flying.

I'd been thrown. And since I'm not a bird, or some other winged creature, I didn't stay airborne very long. I came crashing down _hard_ on the marble floor of the entryway, and went sliding into a wall. _Caaarunch!_ The loud thud of me hitting the wall reverberated throughout the house. The building shuddered. As soon as I hit, pain rocketed throughout my body.

I looked up, and through teary eyes saw that Petros was standing over me, his fists bunched, his eyes wide and wild. "You're right, I won't rip you're head off, but that doesn't mean I won't hurt you."

He reached for me. I slapped at his hands, and scrambled to my feet. I wanted to swing at him. I wanted him to feel the pain I was feeling, but there was no way I could beat him in a fight, and I'd already endured enough pain for one day. I took a step back.

"Petros," Eudora called out from somewhere behind us. "Allow Josh to finish his work. Please."

Petros's expression abruptly changed. The hard lines around his eyes softened. "I'm... I'm sorry, Josh. I shouldn't have let my temper get the best of me. After all, you are practically family."

Stop saying that!

There was something so utterly condescending about the way he spoke, I wanted to tear into him. I knew he was thinking it wouldn't be long before I was a satyr like him, and that he would have the last laugh.

He reached a hand out. "No hard feelings," he said.

I grasped his hand. "None. I know it's hard on you being a monster and all."

Yeah, I know I shouldn't have said it. I hadn't planned on saying it, not really, but I'd been in such a foul mood all morning. A part me felt I had to get even with him for manhandling me the way he did. I braced for the attack I knew was coming.

Petros stiffened for a moment, and then smiled. It was a chilling smile. "Touché," he said. He gave my hand a warning squeeze, shot me a glance that implied Eudora wouldn't always be around to protect me. Then, he headed off down the long corridor, his hooves clunking loudly on the marble floor.

I turned and faced Eudora. She was standing at the base of the grand staircase, stylishly, yet casually dressed in nineteen fifties attire.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm good," I replied. Truth is, I was aching in so many places, I couldn't tell where I hurt worse.

"Do not provoke Petros. I won't always be around to protect you."

"I don't need you protecting me," I snapped.

She chuckled, seeing right through my bravado. "Of course you don't. Come," she said.

"I have to get back to work."

"Work can wait. Now, we must talk."

Without waiting for my reply, she started down the long corridor. I didn't want to go. She wasn't the boss of me, and yet, I followed.

We passed through glass doors and moved outside to the rear area where I'd first seen her. Several very attractive teen girls (water nymphs, no doubt) were frolicking in the hot spring. Tiny plumes of steam rose from the water, dispersing in the morning air. There was a warmth coming off the hot spring, and a lovely fragrance.

Eudora moved to a table with a glass top, and signaled me to the seat beside her.

"Coffee? Tea?" she asked.

"I'm good."

"I'd like a breakfast mimosa," she said wistfully.

Moments later, Petros entered through the patio doors carrying a tray with a pitcher of mimosas and cocktail glasses. I wondered if there was a psychic connection between them, or had she made the request earlier.

It didn't matter. What mattered was I didn't care how much in love they once were, Petros had been reduced to being her man servant. There were no signs of love or affection between them. Eudora was the master, and he was her servant.

He set the tray down and poured Eudora a cocktail.

"Are you sure?" she asked as she was about to take a sip.

"Yeah. I think it's against the law to offer minors alcohol," I said.

"Nonsense," she said, and sipped her drink. "It's perfect, Petros."

The satyr smiled, nodded and disappeared back into the house.

"That song in your head," she said without looking at me, "it's what we call the siren's song. You're too young to realize this, but to find your soulmate is a blessing."

I shouldn't have been surprised; of course she knew.

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?" I said with a hint of annoyance.

She sipped her drink. "True love is hard to find. Many people meet and fall in love, and sometimes that love lasts, but usually, it doesn't. However, when two souls meet and fall in love, that love is eternal. That love is true. Your soul and my daughter's have been searching for each other since birth. It's a beautiful thing. Simply beautiful." She took another sip.

"I'm not going to wind up like Rive or Petros," I said in a low even tone. "So let's cut the love talk, okay?"

"True love can endure many hardships," she said.

"Then, maybe what I feel for your daughter isn't true love, because I'm not going out like that." I stood. "Why are we having this conversation? I need to get back to work."

"I can't help but notice how happy your father seems since he's come to work here. I'm glad to see it. I have many friends who can use his services."

A chill stirred the contents of my belly. I sat back down. "What are you getting at?"

"I was just thinking that us parents make so many sacrifices for our children. Sometimes, children need to make sacrifices for their parents."

The chill continued riding through me as I realized just how cunning Eudora could be.

"Thanks for the advice," I said, through tight lips.

"I want you to know that you're always welcome here, Josh. Always. And when you're ready, you will be welcomed into our family. Think of this as your home," she said.

"Thanks." I could feel myself turning pale, so I got up and started away on wobbly legs. I hoped she hadn't noticed. "I already have a home," I called over my shoulder.

"I'm rooting for you two," Eudora called after me. "True love will always win out."

I was in a funk the rest of the morning. Eudora had all but threatened me. My family could have a good life, the life my father dreamed of, if only I was willing to sacrifice for love.

As much as I wanted to hate her, I couldn't. I couldn't because she was looking out for her daughter's welfare. That was Eudora's only redeeming quality, that she wanted her daughter to be with her one true love.

I wanted to be with Lara in the worst way; I wanted happiness, but Lara was right—at what price?

Too risky.

Around noon, Asia came out and told us they were serving lunch on the rear patio. I pulled Dad aside and told him I'd prefer not to eat lunch with the Applegates. He assumed it was because Lara and I had had a fight, so he declined the offer. The sandwiches my mother had packed were in our lunch pails. When we got hungry, we pulled them out, and sat in the truck.

Ever since I was a little kid, I always enjoyed eating lunch with my dad in the truck. It made me feel like a grownup, like I was pulling my own weight.

"You want to talk about it?" my father asked after we'd been sitting in silence for nearly ten minutes.

"Not really."

"Okay, but we've got to talk about something. This silence is killing me."

I laughed. "Sports," I said.

"You hate sports."

"I know, but you _love_ sports. Tell me what's going on with your favorite team. Is it football season, yet?"

"Baseball," Dad replied with a chuckle.

"Great. Let's talk about the Dodgers."

"Uh-uh. If we talk about the Dodgers, it will be a one sided conversation, since you know nothing about baseball. I'm not even sure you could identify a baseball."

"Oblong and covered in pigskin, right?" I said, emitting a burst of laughter.

"I know an interest we share—music. Catch me up on who's hot these days."

I was just starting to talk about my favorite bands when Eudora appeared at the driver's door.

"Stan Butters, I am not taking no for an answer. No, siree. I've invited my neighbor, Tim Patterson, over to meet you. Don't make me look like a fool."

Seeing Eudora, my father put his sandwich down and got out of the truck. "Tim Patterson, the movie star?"

"I just know him as Tim, the man I told about your wonderful services," Eudora said.

My father shot me a look, and I knew Eudora had won.

"I can eat lunch by myself," I called out.

"No, Son—"

"It's fine, Dad. You should meet Tim Patterson, but me, I prefer to eat alone." I shot Eudora a look that said _back off_.

"If Josh wants to be a fuddy duddy because of some silly lover's quarrel, let him. Actually, I prefer adults only," she said, smirking back at me.

Dad looked from Eudora to me, his face clouding over in uncertainty. This was the chance of a lifetime for him, for our family, a possible second, wealthy, Hollywood client in two days. It was obvious he was itching to meet Tim Patterson, but it was also obvious he didn't want to abandon me.

"I'm good, Dad," I said with a smile. "And when you're finished stuffing your face and schmoozing with Tim Patterson, I will be out here working away."

He laughed at that one, and turned to Eudora, all smiles. "Looks like I'm yours," he said.

"Good." Eudora locked arms with Dad. "Don't worry about your father. I will take good care of him," she called, before steering him away, and disappearing inside the house.

The moment they were gone, my smile, along with my spirits disintegrated.

### Chapter Twenty

Eudora wanted me to see how good things could be for my family. All I had to do was choose to be with my soulmate. Being with one's soulmate should be a simple choice, but with us humans, nothing is easy.

I tried going back to my sandwich, but realized my ham and cheese on sour dough with the spicy mustard just the way I liked it, tasted like sawdust today. My heavy thoughts had succeeded in robbing me of my appetite.

I rewrapped the sandwich, and decided to take a walk. I'd heard on a TV talk show that walking was therapeutic, and good for clearing ones thoughts. I was about to test out the theory.

As rundown and decrepit as the Applegate mansion was on the outside, the grounds were gorgeous, with a variety of trees, flowers and shrubbery giving the place a country estate charm. There were several trails that one could explore, some seemingly adventurous, while others were more tame. I chose one of the tamer paths that swung around behind the rear of the house.

As I walked, I heard the sound of distant laughter coming from the patio. I recognized the sound of my father's laugh. I hadn't realized how distinctive one person's laugh could be before then. There were many voices, but I easily picked out my father's among them.

When I heard his laugh, the funk I'd been trying to escape settled back over me like an evening mist. I turned around, and headed the other way before the sound of my father's laughter totally soured my disposition.

I seemed to be wandering aimlessly, not allowing my thoughts to linger on one thing for long before moving on. I was walking without thinking, enjoying the outdoors, allowing my feet to propel me wherever.

After a while, I felt my therapy starting to work. The knots in my neck began to relax. My spirits were lifting, until I realized my feet had propelled me to the familiar meadow with the gazebo. My mind had played a trick on me. I'd known where I was headed all along.

Seeing the gazebo, a lumped formed in my throat as I recalled the last time I was there. I continued into the meadow, my eyes on the gazebo, wondering if someone might be inside. Who was I kidding? I wasn't wondering; I was hoping to find Lara there.

I arrived at the empty gazebo, sat down on the padded bench, and sighed, my heart was heavy as if an elephant had taken up residence in my chest.

"Lara," I said softly. Saying her name seemed to summon a wave of joy within, so I said it again. "Lara." I wondered if she knew I was there. I wondered if she was thinking about me as I was thinking of her.

My gaze drifted into the meadow filled with daffodils. Frolicking butterflies had gathered at the center, forming a colorful, billowing, curtain. The curtain parted, and a girl was standing there. She seemed to appear out of nowhere, wearing an ankle length white dress that shimmered in the sunlight. Her hair was concealed beneath a big floppy hat, her face behind oversized sunglasses, but still, I knew it was her. Lara.

My breathing hitched. "Lara," I said again, a joyful whisper.

### Chapter Twenty-One

I rose from the bench, my eyes blinking several times to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

"Lara," I called out. She looked at me from across the meadow, and smiled.

The sad music in my head swelled, and at that moment, it didn't sound sad at all, it sounded to me as if heaven had opened up, and the angels were singing.

I ran from the gazebo, sprinting into the meadow. As I ran toward her, I saw that she had set down a picnic basket, and was spreading out a colorful blanket on the grass.

"It's you. It's really you," I said, breathless, as I reached her side.

"I thought I might find you here," she replied softly, as she kneeled down and smoothed wrinkles from the blanket.

"You know me better than I know myself. I thought I'd never see you again."

She sighed deeply. "That was the plan." Off came the sun glasses. Her green eyes were smiling, too. "But you know what they say about the best laid plans."

"I do, I do," I said, taking a step toward her.

"Wait!" she said, freezing me. "You need to hear the ground rules first."

"Ground rules?"

"Ground rules," she repeated. "It's broad daylight, so I'm sure nothing can happen here, especially with the threat of Petros always looming nearby. Still, no touching."

"No touching?"

"Joshua, stop repeating after me, please."

"Sorry." I went on: "So, we can be together as long as we don't touch. Is that it?"

"No. We can have lunch _today_ , as long as we don't touch. But I'm warning you, you reach for me, I'm gone." She hit me with what was supposed to be a searing gaze, but, in fact, was sexy and alluring.

"Okay," I replied softly. "No touching."

She set the picnic basket atop the blanket and began removing items.

"Your father is having lunch with my mother, and my aunts, and some of their friends. I was in my room listening to them out on the patio, laughing and talking, and I thought: _Joshua needs to eat, too._ Then, I thought: _We're in love and we know nothing about each other._ I decided we should have lunch, and share a little something about ourselves." She stopped unpacking, and looked up at me to catch my expression.

"We should share about ourselves even though you don't want to be with me?"

"Even though I _can't_ be with you," she corrected.

She hit me with the eyes again, before going on: "We met and fell in love when we were bodiless souls, long before we became flesh and blood human beings. Maybe after we talk, we will discover we don't even like the people we've become."

"You don't believe that."

The hint of a smile appeared on her lips. "No. I don't." She paused for a moment, and her expression shifted to one of uncertainty. "Do you want to get to know me?" The uncertainty in her eyes seeped into her voice, and I immediately felt sorry, even though I'd done nothing to be sorry for.

"Yes, yes, of course I do," I replied, and took a step toward her. She held up her hand, again stopping me.

"No touching."

"Right, right. No touching," I repeated. I smiled, pointed at the picnic basket. "Whatcha got in there?"

Lara laid out a gorgeous spread, an array of colorful cheeses:

"This is smoked gouda; this is brie; this is Alpine Swiss," she said as she delighted in setting the cheeses down.

There was a fragrant loaf of crusty bread her Aunt Asia had baked that morning, along with assorted fruits and crackers.

She sliced off a thin layer of cheese, placed it on a cracker, topped it off with a tomato slice and handed it to me. "No avocado," she said.

That caught me by surprise. "How did you know I didn't like avocado?"

She stared at me for a moment. "I don't know. I just did." She smiled. "Am I right?"

"Yeah. That is so weird. You couldn't have known that. What else do you know?" I asked, eager to see if she could do it again.

She stared at me for a few moments, her head cocked to the side. "Your favorite color is brown. You like it because it's the color of earth."

"Whoa. Amazing," I said. "Okay, my turn." I stared at her, hard.

"Anything?"

"Give me a minute." I continued staring. I kneaded my brow, and then it came to me. "You hate to say goodbye. You say things like _see ya,_ or _later_ , but never goodbye. You hate saying it, and you don't know why."

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she burst into laughter, and I knew I'd nailed it.

We ate, and drank cranberry juice that she poured from an earthen pitcher, as we happily shared things we'd known about each other since forever.

Lunch was excellent, made exceptional by the company. After we exhausted the things we'd known about each other, we talked about the things we didn't know about each other. She asked me my favorite subjects in school: English, science and social studies. Hers were English and history. We shared about books we enjoyed reading, and TV shows we liked to watch. We talked about poetry, and for the first time, I was able to understand.

"Thank you for the book," I said. "It's a sweet gift."

"You're welcome," she replied rather shyly.

"' _Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The Soul that rises with us, our life's star,'"_ I said. "You circled that in the book."

"I did," she said, looking away. "When we are born, we forget all that happened before we were born. It's so unfair."

"Did you do circle it for me?"

"No. I did it long before I knew you. Perhaps I'd been listening to the siren's song all along, and I was trying to make myself remember."

I didn't respond. I left it at that, and for a long time we just sat there, enjoying the day, enjoying the silence, enjoying our endless love.

After a while, we settled back into relaxed conversation. We talked about my dipstick best friends. Her best friend had been her cousin, Alexia, until recently.

"What happened to your friendship?" I asked.

"My mother came between us," she said. She didn't seem angry or upset by it. "She had Alexia believing she was grooming her to be the next leader of our people. I don't know if it was true, or if she was trying to make me jealous. Whatever her reasoning, Alexia believed it, and began turning dark, like my mother. She became petty and demanding, sneaky and conniving, almost like a spoiled child. She was never like that before."

I thought of Alexia's hold over Alan.

"That's the reason my Aunt Roxanne moved them out of the compound. She couldn't stand the negative effect my mother was having on her daughter."

"Alexia wants to come back," I told her. "Maybe the creature waiting to kill them will force them to come back."

"Maybe," Lara said, but she didn't sound convinced of it.

We wound up lying on the blanket, our faces inches apart, yet never touching.

"I think your cousin is using some sort of enchantment on Alan. He's so protective of her all of a sudden."

"I'm not surprised. She's looking for a protector, a mate."

"She's sixteen!" I blurted.

"So am I. These are the years my people choose. And since there is no love song playing in Alexia's head, she chooses to enchant a human into falling in love with her. I'm sorry."

"Why? Will the same fate that could happen to me happen to him?"

She nodded. "It's called Nianis. When a Nereid can't find true love—Amoris, they often choose Nianis, rather than grow old without a mate."

"You mean turn seventeen before settling down?"

"Don't make fun of what you don't know."

"Sorry," I said. "So, if Alan consummates his relationship with Alexia, he will become a satyr?" I asked.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "You just need to keep them apart."

"It's not that easy. He's crazy about her. He was crazy about her before she enchanted him. We all were."

"You _were_?" she said, grinning at me.

"Don't be jealous," I said and laughed.

She began to laugh as well, our mutual laughter rising into the air. A butterfly drifted near her face. She sat up and swatted at it.

"Shoo. Go on, now." She fanned at the butterflies around the blanket, and they departed.

"They're beautiful," I said.

"They're nothing but little spies," she replied.

I knew it.

"They can be annoying little creatures, always snooping, always telling tales. Certain butterflies are sworn to tell their tales only to my mother. I'm sure she knows I'm with you, and if she doesn't, she will."

"That's how you knew I was out here, isn't it?

"Guilty," she said with a shamefaced grin.

"Then I'm glad they spied on me," I said and reached for her.

She shrank away from me, her eyes turning dark. "No. Touching."

"I'm not going to do anything," I lied. I knew if I got my hands on her, I was going to kiss her.

"No touching, Josh! If you can't follow the rules, I will have to go."

She hit me with the eyes again. I sat up, peering at her across the blanket. Anger, like a flash flood, rushed into my belly.

"So, every time we meet, I'm not allowed to touch you?" I asked. There was no hiding the nastiness creeping into my voice.

"We're not meeting again."

"This is it?" I screeched. The anger in my belly rose up into my chest.

"I told you that! It's better than how I left you last night, running off without even a... see ya. Now we know something about each other. Now we have a memory," she said, and smiled. Her smile infuriated me.

"And you think that makes it better?"

"Yes."

"You're wrong there, Lara. It makes it worse. Are you too dense to see that?"

It was as if I'd slapped her across the face. Tears sprang into her eyes. "I'm not _dense_ ," she replied as she began snatching up the remains of our lunch, and stuffing the containers back into the picnic basket.

We were both on edge, and I wasn't about to do anything to diminish it.

"Good, great. I'd help, but I might accidentally touch you and break the rules. Wouldn't want to do that," I said. I heard the sarcasm rampant in my voice, and didn't care. "One thing you said last night was right, though. It's stupid for me to give up my life for you."

A breeze that wasn't there a moment earlier swooped into the meadow, sending a stack of paper napkins air born.

"I didn't say that!"

Lara's floppy hat was yanked from her head, and kited up into the sky as the gusts increased.

"Yeah, well, you should have, because it's true. I'm not giving up my future for you, some girl I hardly know. You're not worth it."

I didn't mean a word of what I was saying, but my heart was aching so badly, all I wanted to do was hurt her back. Lara's tears began falling freely as she picked up the basket. She snatched up the blanket from the ground. Mission accomplished.

"Hopefully, this will be the last insult I _ever_ have to endure from you, Joshua Butters," she cried out through her tears. Dandelion puffs filled the air, snowing down upon us.

"I hope so, too. But if you're ever in the market for another insult, who you gonna call?" I said, piling it on.

Her head snapped up as if she'd been sucker punched. She spun around and started zig-zagging across the meadow toward the path. It was as if the pain I'd inflicted was so severe, she couldn't walk straight.

The wind whipped through her hair as she went. Her flowing dress billowed like the sail of a tall ship. She brought to mind a mime pretending to walk against the wind.

I wanted to call out _Stop! Don't go!_ I wanted to apologize, I really did, but a secret part of me was happy to see that I'd inflicted such pain, and that part of me was smiling as she vanished into the trees.

The moment she was gone, the wind stopped, and a deathly quiet settled over the meadow. And that's exactly how I felt. Dead inside.

When I arrived at the truck, my father had already returned from lunch.

"There you are. I thought you said you'd be working," he teased. He was grinning from ear-to-ear, and I knew his lunch had been a good one.

"Looks like you had a good time."

"I did," he said, and laughed. "We had beer. _And_ wine. That Tim Patterson is a regular guy, you know that?"

"I do now," I said.

He spent the rest of the afternoon going on about Tim Patterson and the lunch. He was so busy being pleased with himself, he didn't notice the tears in my eyes.

Despite how emotionally drained I was, I still had Alan to deal with. When we left him the night before, he had his mind set on killing the creature in his pool. My hope was that after taking the day to think about it, he'd come to his senses.

I found Alan in his bedroom, performing a made up version of tai chi, which made it clear he hadn't come to his senses. No, siree.

"Hey, where have you been?" he said, stopping his motions and smiling at me.

"Work. With my Dad. I'm working with him for the next few days."

"Oh. Right. Good." He seemed preoccupied. "You are not going to believe what I found," he said, grinning at me, and I realized he wasn't preoccupied. He was waiting for me to stop talking so he could get on with his news.

He moved to his bed and picked up a long, tubular object with a tip at the end. "Huh? Huh?" he said, his grin widening.

"What is that?"

"This, my friend, is a super carbine spear gun. This baby is constructed of aero-space grade aluminum." He held it up, and aimed, his finger on the pistol grip.

"Hey, man! Watch it with that thing!" I called out, and ducked. Alan was known for being clumsy, and a spear gun was something you could more than put someone's eye out with. "Point that at something else," I called out, signaling for him to point it away from me.

"Oh, sorry," he said, lowering the gun.

"What are you going to do with it?" I asked, as if I didn't know.

"I'm going to use this to kill the creature. _We're_ going to use it to kill the creature."

"Uh-uh. No way. We don't know anything about spear guns."

"I do. I took a lesson this afternoon." He was grinning at me again. It was a self-assured grin, the kind you might see on a student who was about to take a big test and had been slipped all the answers.

"Someone could get hurt."

He snorted out a laugh. "Yeah! The creature could get hurt. The creature could get _dead_."

I moved to him and gingerly took the spear gun from his hand. "Alan, we really need to think about this. That thing in your pool is not a video game. That thing is dangerous."

The smile vanished. His eyes darkened. "Alexia likes the spear gun," he said, and snatched the weapon back from my hands. "She thinks it makes me look like an action hero." He propped the gun on his shoulder, and struck a pose.

"I bet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he blurted, narrowing his eyes at me.

_He's already her slave_ , I thought, and _they haven't even consummated the relationship yet._

At least, I didn't believe Alan had consummated the relationship. If Alan had lost his virginity, he'd have called me five minutes after it happened; heck, he might have called me while it was happening. Consummated or not, it was clear, Alexia Dupree had Alan wrapped around her finger.

"Alan, Alexia is scared. Her and her mom's lives are in danger. She's liable to say anything."

"Their lives won't be in danger for long," he said, his eyes were on me again, defying me to say anything contradictory. "You're with me, right?"

With that question, the look in his eyes shifted. He was suddenly a little boy, wanting to know if I could come out and play.

"Yeah. Of course," I replied. What else could I say?

The smile sprang back onto his lips. "That's my man. Check it out."

He threw the spear gun onto the bed. It bounced, and I ducked again. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a tiny, shiny metal object. "Hira shuriken," he said. "It's a throwing star."

I didn't mean to look at him as if he were a nutjob, but I couldn't help myself. "Alan, what have you been doing all afternoon?"

"Shopping," he replied with great joy. "The shuriken aren't used to kill. Hitting him with one of these in the right place will disable the creature. After he's disabled, we finish him off with the gun," he said, smiling proudly.

"Umm...Okay." I was at a loss for words.

"Hyaaaaah!" He cried out, then spun around, and flung the throwing star at his bedroom door.

The star zipped through the air, and gently struck the door. It stuck for a nanosecond, before falling harmlessly to the floor.

"I haven't practiced with these yet," he said, unfazed.

Just then, my phone chirped. It was my brother Troy, telling me to come home for family dinner.

Again?

"I gotta go. Family dinner. I have an idea; let's spend tonight practicing, get our skills up to par to do battle."

Thankfully, Alan quickly picked up on my plan. "I like it. We practice tonight, and tomorrow we strike. The Legion of Doom," he said, stepping into a super hero pose.

"Great. Just promise you won't confront the creature alone. Promise you'll wait for me."

"Of course. I'm not an idiot."

Right.

I started out.

"Yo, Butterfingers, aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"Which of these do you want to practice with?" he asked, extending the throwing stars in one hand, the spear gun in the other.

"I will take the spear gun," I said. It was the most dangerous of the two. I needed to get it away from him before he hurt himself.

"Good choice. I already got that one down cold."

Right.

I dropped the spear gun off in my bedroom before heading down the hall to dinner.

"Wash your hands," my mother called out when she heard me coming.

"Yes, ma'am," I called back, and ducked into the bathroom.

The house was filled with good smells, fragrances we didn't usually get until the holidays. As I soaped my hands, I began feeling guilty.

My parents had not been happy—none of us were. It's not that we were _unhappy_ , but we'd fallen into a pattern of simply surviving, going through the motions of life.

Meals at our house were catch-as-catch-can. Like ships passing in the night, we each operated on our own schedules. I think it was because we didn't want to look my parents in the eye and see their failure written on their faces.

Now their faces were bright, and filled with pride. Their eyes were alight with dreams of the future, a future that, if things continued on their current path, might one day land us in a home north of the boulevard.

By now the butterflies had told Eudora of our break up in the meadow. I wondered how long it would be before Dad and I became unwelcome at the Applegate fortress, and our lives, and the lives of my family members went back to how it was before.

Mom made my favorite—pepper steak with lots of red and green bell peppers simmered with slices of steak in a brown sauce. That made me feel guilty, too.

"Looks great, Mom," Troy said, admiring the spread. "And are those homemade dinner rolls?"

"Sara Lee made them. That's as close to homemade as you're going to get around here," Mom said, and laughed.

Dad was still hopped up from rubbing elbows with a movie star. He talked about lunch, and what a great guy Tim Patterson was. "Maybe we'll have him over for dinner," he said.

"That'd be something. I loved him in _Blaze of Glory,_ " Troy said.

Throughout the meal, Mom kept looking over at me and smiling. "Josh wasn't at this big lunch?" she asked.

"No. He and Lara had a quarrel," Dad said. I was glad he didn't belittle it by calling it a _lover's_ quarrel. "He said he was going to eat in the truck, but he wasn't there when I got back." Dad gazed at me with a secret smile. "You two patch things up yet?"

"No. Afraid not," I said.

"That's all right," my mother said. "All things in their own time."

She was smiling at me.

I gazed over at my father, stuffing his face with pepper steak and dinner rolls. Anger bubbled up. Dad knew if we'd made up I would have told him.

Is this his way of saying don't mess things up for me... for us, or is it just my guilt?

"Mom, I gotta go finish something I'm working on with Alan. Can I eat this later?" I had to get out of there. "Of course. I'll keep it warm for you."

Gotta love Mom. I said my goodbyes, grabbed the spear gun from my room, and headed out. I needed something to take my mind off the guilt and anger simmering inside me. Practicing with Alan to kill a creature I didn't plan on killing wasn't what I had in mind, but it would have to do.

I arrived back at Alan's a little after eight, and went straight to his room. He wasn't there. I spotted a dozen fresh stabs in the door from throwing stars. He'd been practicing.

I checked outside by the pool to make sure he hadn't taken matters into his own hands. He wasn't their either.

As I turned to head back inside, my eye caught the shimmering water of the pool—so peaceful, so quiet. A chill began working its way up my spine.

Did Alan attempt to take on the creature all by himself after I left?

I took a step toward the pool, and stopped short as the chill danced up my arms and legs. I was trembling.

_That's because there's a chill in the air_.

I held fast to the thought because it was way better than believing I was too chicken to venture to the pool's edge and look inside the pool drain.

_He wouldn't,_ I told myself. _He couldn't. He promised!_ The idea that Alan had done something foolish was trying its damnedest to stick, but I wouldn't let it.

Instead, I came back inside, and sat down at Alan's desk. Beads of perspiration lined my forehead. I looked at the computer. If Alan had gone out to the pool to take on the creature, the cameras would have captured it. I could easily prove to myself there was nothing to worry about.

I am not as adept with the playback equipment as Conner. It took several minutes, but I was finally able to pull up Alan's backyard on the screen. I started rewinding, but wound it back too far. The date and time stamp in the upper right hand corner indicated I had wound it back to last night.

I was about to fast forward when the infrared light out on the pool deck came on. I stopped winding, and peered at the screen, wondering who or what had set off the sensors in Alan's backyard.

My breath caught as someone walked into frame. I gaped in disbelief, surprised at who had been in Alan's backyard the previous night. The person stopped by the pool, leaned over, and began talking into the pool drain.

### Chapter Twenty-Two

I was breathing heavily when Roxanne Dupree opened the door.

From the way she was staring at me, I had to be a sight, all hopped up over what I'd just seen on the video.

"Josh? Are you all right? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"No, I'm not all right. Where's Alan?" I barked.

"Josh, you're scaring me. What's wrong?"

"Where's. Alan?"

"They went for a yogurt," she replied, her voice turning cautious. "Are you sure you're oaky?"

Hearing that my best friend hadn't become a victim of the creature in his pool sent a shock wave of relief coursing through me. I sucked in a lung full of air and let it out slowly.

"Are you telling the truth?" I asked.

"Josh, why would I lie to you?"

I didn't know why. I didn't trust her, though. Hearing that Alan was safe began to relax me. The news allowed my mind to slow down enough to think. I needed to attempt to find some reason in the madness.

I decided to hang back and play it cool, not giving up any information about what I'd seen on the video. One thing was for sure, someone was messing with us, but I wasn't sure who was involved.

"I don't know what's going on," I said. "But one thing I do know is if you move back up to the Applegate fortress, no one has to die."

I narrowed my eyes at her, and something in her expression changed.

"I can't do that," she said, and I could tell from her tone she was digging in.

"I can't stop Alan from battling the creature, Roxanne. Your _daughter_ has made sure of that. You and I both know if we battle the creature in Alan's pool, someone is going to die, and I don't think it's going to be the creature."

"Oh, God," she said softly, her eyes tightening with pain. "Come in. Please."

"I—"

"Please!" she insisted, cutting me off. She pulled the door wide, and I entered.

I settled in on the sofa with Roxanne seated across from me.

"Can I get you anything?"

"The truth," I replied.

"Yes, of course." She sat back and sighed heavily, as if she were about to unload the weight of the world. "When we were growing up, my older sister, Eudora, was a great role model for me. Asia came later. Most of my childhood there was just the two us. We were best friends." Her eyes softened as they looked into the past.

"Okay," I said, urging her on.

"And then, when she turned sixteen something happened."

"What?"

"She met her one true love. Petros. He was handsome and gallant, and they were so very much in love. They went everywhere, did everything together. You never saw one without the other." A wistful smile appeared on her lips.

"Petros the _satyr_?" I said, reminding her of what Eudora had done to him.

"Yes," she said softly. "That didn't happen for several years, though, and before he became her slave they were so incredibly happy. After he became her slave, my sister turned dark, and mean. When my mother passed on she became even meaner. She was so unhappy, and she took it out on the Nereid. She insisted every girl take on a slave lover when she turned sixteen. Before then, a girl could choose to live her life as she pleased, but once the Countess took over, Nianis became mandatory." I thought I saw tears forming in her eyes.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"We had to leave that place. My daughter was becoming like her aunt, mean and controlling. Eudora had taken a special liking to Alexia, treating her as if she were her own. Everyone knew she was grooming Alexia and not Lara to be our next leader. I saw how my daughter was changing, and knew I couldn't let that happen."

"What became of Alexia's father?"

She stared at me for several seconds, and I could see the openness drain from her face.

"He died," she said softly, venturing no more.

"Was he your one true love?"

Another long stare. "No." A slow tear traced down her cheek. "Alexia had been a wonderful child. I didn't want her to turn out like my sister. So we left the compound and moved here."

"If that thing in Alan's pool kills someone, their blood will be on your hands."

"Noo," she crooned softly. "Remember when I told you you needed an enchantment? They're impossible to get. The creature cannot be enchanted with pheromones, the way we enchant humans. You must have water from one of the five enchanted hot springs my people guard so dearly. Without the water from the spring, an enchantment is impossible."

"You're saying you knew we couldn't acquire an enchantment all along?" I asked. She nodded. "No enchantment, no battle; no battle, everyone lives. Is that it?"

"Yes. _Everyone_ lives."

We sat in silence for several seconds, staring into each other's eyes.

Then a voice said: "I can get the spring water for the enchantment."

I looked up to discover Alexia Dupree standing in the doorway, glaring at her mother. Alan stood a few feet behind her, a single scoop cup of yogurt in his hand.

"Hey, Josh. What are you doing here?" he asked. He did not seem happy to see me.

Turns out, there was another step in creating the enchantment Roxanne had left out. A member of the royal family had to say an incantation over the spring water. Then, once the enchanted spring water was poured over a Lycorian, he would lose his speed, as well as his ability to shrink in size. Alexia assured us she had the incantation covered as well.

"Alexia, I told you, I forbid you to go back up to the compound," Roxanne said, attempting to exercise some control over her daughter.

"Oh, Mother, please. We can get the water from one of the other hot springs," Alexia replied in a dismissive tone.

"What are you doing here, Josh?"

I still hadn't answered Alan's earlier question. He was standing near the door, holding the yogurt, staring at me.

"I came looking for you... to practice," I lied.

"Alexia told me everything," Alan said, his tone turning accusatory.

My gaze ping-ponged between the two. "What do you mean?"

"I mean _everything_ ," Alan repeated. "About the Nereid, about Eudora Applegate, about you and Lara. When were you going to tell me about that, _best_ friend?"

I gazed into Alexia's eyes. She was relishing the fact she was separating us.

"Did she tell you knowing what you know puts you and your entire family in danger?" My eyes were still on Alexia. Her self-assured expression vanished, and I knew I'd scored one.

"What kind of danger?" Alan asked, now facing her.

"It's nothing, baby. Aunt Eudora loves me. She loves me more than she loves her own daughter. She won't do anything to my baby." She smiled to reassure him.

"What _could_ she do?" he asked.

Alexia shot me a quick, searing gaze. Then she moved to Alan, removed the yogurt cup from his hand and melted into his arms. "Thank you for being so understanding," she said.

"Sure," he replied. He again looked at me. "Why didn't you tell me?" And just like that, the ground I'd gained was lost.

"I... couldn't. You know I'd have told you if I could have."

"Told you," Alexia said in a sing-song, the spider dancing along her web, regaining total control of her fly.

"Told him what?" I asked, steaming at her.

"I told him people change. It's all part of growing up," she said, running her hands through his hair. "I told him that just because someone was your friend when you were kids, doesn't mean they'll always be your friend."

Alan gazed at me with sad eyes, and I knew I was losing a friendship I'd had since the seventh grade. Back before either of us knew Conner, it was just Alan and me.

We shared our first slice of Mulberry Street pizza together back then. We'd heard how good Mulberry Street pizza was but were never able to afford a slice. Then one day we decided to pool our money. We scraped up enough change between us to buy a slice to share. Best. Slice. Ever.

That was the stuff great friendships were made of, little things you might not remember were the invisible glue that held friendships together.

"Don't let her come between us," I called to him. I was surprised to hear desperation in my voice.

"She's just telling it like it is, bro," Alan replied, shaking his head sadly.

"Should we go get the water now?" Alexia asked, her voice going soft and sultry. She may as well have said: _ready to go to bed together_? There was that much implied sex in her question.

She was again smirking at me. I had to say something. I had to try and salvage my friendship.

"I knew Alan was an odd choice for you. I couldn't figure it out. I thought you wanted to take him as your lover, your _slave_ , but I was wrong, wasn't I? He's just a pawn in your game." I faced Alan. "Dude, you're nothing more than a sacrifice for her. If we kill the creature, fine. If we die trying, she'll just con the next sucker into trying. Alexia is nothing but a conniving shrew."

"Don't talk about my woman like that," Alan said, taking a menacing step toward me.

Woman?

"It's all right, baby. He doesn't bother me," Alexia said, running a soothing hand along his shoulders. "Let's just go get the water, okay?"

Alan nodded stiffly.

Alexia smirked over at me. "Coming?"

### Chapter Twenty-Three

The Wonder Water bottling plant was in a small, unmarked, factory like structure on Edgewood Drive, just off of Olympic Boulevard in Los Angeles. The bunker-like building was the only commercial structure on what was a quiet, residential street.

We ubered over there, the trip taking less than fifteen minutes. During the ride over, Alan didn't talk to me, wouldn't look even at me. Alexia had successfully worked her magic on him, driving a wedge between us.

"My Great Aunt Winsome lives here," she said as we got out.

Alan paid the driver, and we approached a non-descript sheet metal covered door. Alexia pounded on the door.

"Great Aunt Winsome, it's me, Alexia!" she called out.

We waited several minutes. Just when I thought no one was going to answer, the door scraped open.

A tiny woman with a shock of snow white hair was on the other side. When the woman saw Alexia, a smile as big as Texas blossomed on her face.

"Is that my Grand-niece, Alexia? Why, yes it is. Come in, come in."

I could tell from the timber of Great Aunt Winsome's voice that she was quite old, yet her skin was soft, with very few wrinkles. She moved with ease and grace.

Alexia introduced us as her friends, although for me, nothing could have been further from the truth.

"Don't call me great Aunt Winsome, boys. That makes me sound too old. Call me Winnie," she said, flashing a wholesome smile.

Winnie led us into a cozy parlor brimming with sagging, overstuffed chairs, and antique furniture. The feel and smell of the place reminded me of my grandmother's house.

Alexia orchestrated it so that she and Alan were seated together on a tight settee, with me across for them in a large, high back chair with floral print upholstery. When I sat down on the sagging cushions, I sunk deep into the chair.

After we were all seated, Winnie turned to Alexia. "How's your mother?" she asked, in a tone that sounded skeptical.

"She's fine. We moved. We now live in Beverly Hills, south of the boulevard."

"You don't say. I guess that means Roxanne and Eudora aren't getting on any better?"

"Afraid not," Alexia replied. If she had any feelings about the state of their relationship, she gave off nothing.

After some small talk, Winnie asked what brought us there in the middle of the night.

Alexia proceeded to tell the story of her and Roxanne moving out of the compound, and winding up living next door to Alan. She told of the Lycorian that was hiding out in Alan's pool, and that we planned on dealing with it.

Throughout her story, she massaged Alan's shoulders, and played with his hair. Alan sat stiffly, as if in a trance, never gazing in my direction. I wondered if all the touching was part of the spell she'd put on him.

"Oh, my goodness," Winnie said, after Alexia had completed her tale. "A Lycorian, huh? Nasty creatures," she said, looking at me. "And quite dangerous."

"There's a hot spring here?" I asked, looking around.

"Yes. It's in the backyard. It's one of the smaller eruptions, but its secret is just as important as the others. This was the first one discovered by the outside world back in nineteen-ten by a man named Harold Grant. Before that discovery, only the native Americans and the Nereid knew of the springs. The two races lived side-by-side in harmony with nature. Grant bought the land thinking he was going to find oil here." She laughed. "He had no idea that what he'd discovered was more precious than oil, more precious than gold."

"Water?" I asked.

"Not just water, young man. The hot spring maintains a temperature of just over one hundred degrees. The alkaline in the water contains silica, iron, aluminum oxides, plus a whole lot of elements surveyors back then had never seen before. Discovering this spring was like discovering the fountain of youth." She laughed. "Of course, Grant had no idea what he'd purchased, and my people were not about to tell him."

"It's right here in the heart of Los Angeles, and people still don't know about it?" I asked.

"Thank goodness, no. These hot springs are key to the Nereid's survival. We lose control of them, and our race will be wiped out like dinosaurs." She snorted. "If folks knew what was here, these springs would be overrun. Just look at what goes on up in Murrieta, and that hot spring isn't even enchanted."

I'd heard of the popular resort, Murrieta Hot Springs, in a small town north of Los Angeles.

"Would you like to see the spring?" Winnie asked. Her eyes were shining, as if she were Santa Claus asking if I wanted to see Santa's workshop.

"Oh, yeah," I replied.

It was a tiny backyard, lush with plants, and overgrown with tall grasses. The spring was covered by a large tarp. We could feel its heat as soon as we stepped outside, see the steam pushing up from beneath the covering.

"Remove that thing from on top, will ya, boys?" Winnie said, pointing.

Alan and I peeled back the tarp, revealing a pool of bubbling water, ten feet in diameter. The delightful fragrance of the spring wafted up to us. Light radiated from within the pool, and once the tarp was pulled back, the entire backyard was bathed in eerie light emanating from the water.

There was a metal contraption alongside the tiny, bubbling pool, with aluminum tubing that brought to mind a backwoods still, or an old-fashioned expresso machine.

"What's that?" I asked.

"I sell a few gallons of the water each week to some of the neighborhood folk in the storefront around the other side of the building. That there is how I bottle it. People think I have it shipped in. No one knows I bottle it right here."

She moved to a wooden crate at the bottom of the back steps containing empty glass bottles that brought to mind old fashioned coke bottles. She removed a bottle and worked her way over to the metal contraption. "I bottle water the old fashioned way, one bottle at a time," she said with a short laugh.

She picked up a long rubber hose that ran alongside the metal contraption, stuck the nozzle inside the bottle and pulled on a valve. Steaming water rushed inside the glass bottle, filling it to the top almost instantly.

Winnie held the bottle to her eyes, and smiled. The contents gave off an eerie glow. "It'll stop shimmering in a few days. That's when I know it's ready for sale. Can't sell glowing water. People will think it's radioactive." She chuckled again.

"People buy that?" I asked.

"I can't say I have a thriving business, but I make out all right. Word of mouth customers only. Those who buy, always come back. This water is good for just about anything that ails you." She smiled proudly at the glowing bottle in her hand. "This is truly a wonder drug."

A scratching sound in the thick foliage across the yard drew our attention.

"Shh," Winnie said lowering her voice. "There's an alley back there. Homeless people sleep in it from time-to-time. They're harmless."

"Really? It sounds dangerous," Alexia said.

"They're actually a blessing. They keep the vandals away. As long as there are homeless, my secret is safe," she said with a sly grin.

She moved across the yard to a wall of tall green foliage, and began peeling back the growth to get a glimpse into the alley. That's when the Lycorian's arm shot through the heavy foliage, and wrapped around her throat.

### Chapter Twenty-Four

Winnie hung in the creature's gasp like a marionette on a string, her legs dancing as they dangled. She gasped for air, sounding like an asthmatic in the throes of an attack. Her throat was between the Lycorian's forearm and bicep. It was a strangle hold Alan and I had seen on tag-team wrestling many times. We knew the result. She'd be unconscious long before her windpipe burst.

Alexia pounded on Alan's arm. "Do something! It's killing her," she screamed. "Do something!"

Alan gazed over at me for the first time in almost an hour. There was fear intermingled with disbelief clouding his eyes. "J... Josh?" he stammered.

I grabbed hold of the rubber tubing from the contraption by the spring, and began yanking it across the yard, hoping it was long enough to reach. When I arrived at the rear wall, I began peeling back the shrubbery around her, raking at the leafy greens and vines.

Winnie's eyes gaped at me. She looked like a subject in one of those Big Eyes paintings. As the shrubbery peeled away, the hideous face of the Lycorian came into view. It appeared as though he was trying to pull Winnie through the wrought iron fence that ringed the property.

He reached his free claw through the six inch gap in the iron gate, and lunged at me. I leaped back, but the slashing claw grazed my arm, and I felt a stabbing pain.

"Hit the valve, Alan. Now!" I cried out.

As if on cue, Alan came out of his trance. He moved to the metal contraption, and pulled on the valve Winne had pulled moments earlier. The rubber tube in my hand jumped to life. Pressurized, steaming water shot from the nozzle.

I jammed the nozzle through the iron fencing, into the creature's eyes, giving him a dose of one hundred degree mineral water. He let loose an anguished cry that rocketed through the small backyard, tearing at our ear drums.

The creature released Winnie. She slid down the iron fence, her feet finally coming to rest on solid ground. With my free hand, I pulled her away for fear the monster might go for her again, while my other hand continued spraying water until the creature backed away from the fence.

He disappeared into the shadows. A few minutes later, we heard an anguished cry in the distance, and knew the creature was headed back to the safety of Alan's pool. Winnie's ordeal was over.

She leaned heavily on both Alan and I as we escorted her back inside. "My stars, a Lycorian in my backyard," she rasped in disbelief. I had to agree, it was hard to fathom.

The bruise on her neck was angry and red. Alexia got an ice tray from the freezer and made a makeshift icepack out of a dish towel. We wrapped it around her neck, propping her up with several pillows in the high back chair.

"Thank you," she said after we'd done all we could. Her voice was returning to normal, although she still sounded a bit raspy. "You boys saved my life."

I looked at Alan who hovered by my side. I couldn't read his expression, but the anger was no longer in his eyes.

"You're bleeding," he said, pointing to a long scratch on my forearm.

"I'm good," I said. I grabbed some napkins from the kitchen table and applied pressure. I didn't even feel it. The bleeding would stop soon enough.

"Now he knows about the hot spring," Winnie said. "If word about this location gets back to his friends at the sea, they will swarm here, stake out the place, knowing it is a breeding ground for the Nereid. I will have to move." Her voice hinted at sadness.

I understood how she felt all too well. The Wonder Water bottling plant was her place, her thing. Being responsible for the little hot spring in the backyard, and selling the water gave her a sense of independence. Despite her declining years, Great Aunt Winsome still saw herself as a contributing member of society.

I'd witnessed this with my own grandmother when my folks told her she had to move into the nursing home. Gram had to give up being a contributing member of society, and allow others to care for her. The idea of being a burden didn't sit well with Gram. She didn't last too long after that.

"The creature won't make it back to the sea," Alan reassured Winnie. "Me and Josh are going to kill it before that ever happens."

While I didn't want to have anything to do with killing the creature, I was more than happy to have a hand in giving Winnie some hope.

"Really?" she asked, gazing up at me.

My eyes moved to Alexia who had drifted off into the background. She gazed back at me wearing a newly minted self-satisfied smirk. The spoiled brat was getting her way.

"Right, Josh?" Alan prodded when I failed to respond.

A short while ago, Alan was scared to death of the Lycorian. He had every reason to be. Lycorians were dangerous monsters who could cut us down with one blow. Now, he was dead set on killing the creature, even though he'd seen the kind of damage it could do.

My eyes remained on Alexia. She'd gotten her hooks firmly back into my friend. _Bravo, Alexia. Bravo_.

After a while, she went back outside and filled two bottles with water from the spring. After saying the incantation over the water, she came back in, and handed the two bottles to Alan.

"Here you go, baby."

She glanced at me and smiled.

I knew I was dreaming.

I had to be dreaming because Lara and I were together having a good time, and last I knew, _that_ was _impossible_. We were on a blanket in the meadow. She was gorgeous in a tank top and shorty shorts, her green eyes sparkling.

"Your favorite food is cumquats," I said.

"Your favorite food is Mulberry Street pizza. You like to put a Carney's hot dog on top and make a pizza dog."

We were playing the game again, laughing, talking, having a good time.

Dreams are funny because while part of your mind is dreaming, another part of your mind is thinking, reasoning, working through life's problems. That's why people like to sleep on big decisions, because they know even when they're sound asleep, a part of their brain is still fully functional.

That's what was happening with me. The lucid part of my mind was thinking about the Lycorian showing up in Winnie's backyard.

Just then, the dreaming part of me on the blanket with Lara looked across the meadow and saw the Lycorian approaching us. I got to my feet.

"What are you doing here?" I called out, balling my fists.

"You haven't figured that out yet?" The Lycorian called back. His voice was calm. It had a fatherly quality to it, like Morgan Freeman.

His response threw me. "No. Why? Should I have?"

"Dude, you are _slow_ ," he called.

"Joshua, what's the matter?" Lara asked.

I looked down at her on the blanket, and at that moment, my lucid mind and my dream state came crashing together. "I'm not sure."

I bolted upright in bed. My mind had been whirling around a problem all night, and once I was asleep, it was free to roam, free to find the solution.

How could the Lycorian in Alan's pool know where we'd gone last night? That was the hundred thousand dollar question. We didn't know where we were going ourselves. Someone told the creature where we'd be.

I'd felt the question emerging while we were attending to Winnie's wounds, but with so much going on, I dismissed it—the niggling thought that someone told the Lycorian where he could find us. I didn't know how the guilty party had gotten word to the Lycorian. I didn't know why he did it, but I had good idea of who it was.

The first part of our morning drive out to the Applegate fortress was quiet. Dad had finally burned out on talking about his lunch with his new pal, Tim Patterson. Good. For my part, I didn't have much to say. The ordeal at the Wonder Water Bottling plant had left me with a lot to think about. Besides, I was still miffed at him for pressing me to fix things with Lara.

"I owe you an apology," Dad said, intruding on the silence.

We'd been riding for fifteen minutes. My father's words seemed to come out of nowhere.

"What are you talking about, Dad?"

"I know I was acting like an ass yesterday. I take that back. I didn't know. Your mother pointed it out to me. But when she did, I recognized my behavior right away for what it was."

"It's cool, Dad."

"You know me. I don't hang out with movie stars. Having lunch with Tim Patterson went right to my head. But I want you to know, I didn't picture myself going to movie premieres, and hanging out in the homes of movie stars. What I saw in my mind's eye was an opportunity for you."

I glanced over at him. He wasn't looking at me. His eyes were still on the road, but there was an odd look in them that told me his mind was somewhere else.

"Me?"

"You're an A student, right?"

"Not quite. A high B, but I'm getting there."

"Suppose you wanted to go to one of them Ivy League schools? You're smart enough."

"Dad, I haven't given my college choice much thought. I still have a whole year to decide."

"I know. But suppose you did want to go to one. Last week, I would have had no idea how I could help. Now, I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Now, I can come up with a plan to help you with whatever you decide to do with your life."

I glanced back over at him. He was grinning at me.

"I'm not the smoochy type," he said, continuing. "But you and Troy literally make my heart sing. Every night before I go to sleep, I thank God for sending me two fine young men like you and your brother."

"Did you have some of that leftover wine from yesterday's lunch for breakfast this morning?" I asked.

He laughed, big and loud, enjoying that I was razzing him. Me razzing him meant that things between us were good. "I'm no fool. I see what's going on with kids these days, and then I look at you two. Aside from the time Troy set off that rocket inside the house, you and your brother haven't given us a lick of trouble. I'm grateful for that."

"Thanks, Dad." Despite all that had gone on over the past few days, I started getting a warm feeling inside.

We continued through the gates, and onto the Applegate property in silence.

"Son, are you going to accept my apology, or are you going to make me beg?" he asked after a while.

I sat silent, not moving for several seconds.

"Son?"

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!"

We both burst into laughter. It was a joke we'd heard on TV a long time ago. It never got old. We laughed so hard tears were streaming down our cheeks.

I was grateful as well; grateful Dad had taken the time to open up to me, and grateful for the laughter we shared. I loved my father. It was good to be reminded that he loved me, too, especially since what I had to do next was not going to be pleasant.

After we unloaded the truck, I asked Dad if I could take a short break.

"Already? I may have to change my opinion of you."

We shared another brief laugh, and told him I'd be right back. Then I walked up to the mansion's steps, pushed open the front door and went inside.

I started up the sweeping staircase, not sure where I was headed.

"Petros!" I called, raising my voice to the rooftops. "Petros. I need to have a word with you."

### Chapter Twenty-Five

I was midway up when I heard him behind me, heavy footsteps plodding along the marble floor. As I turned around, he came into view. His ripped torso, and arms like steel girders, reminded me I needed to be careful how I spoke to him.

"Josh? What is going on here?"

"We need to talk. Now!" I called out.

"It's early, Josh. Would you please keep your voice down?"

I started to call out _I don't care if it's early_ , but I didn't want our talk to begin with him bouncing me off the walls. So I nodded, and came down to meet him in the entryway.

"Hey, man, we need to have a chat," I said when I arrived downstairs.

"About what?" he inquired, his eyes going dark and secretive.

"Is there a place where we can have some privacy?"

"What is this about?" he asked, his curiosity turning to annoyance. His eyes narrowed at me.

"Okay," I said, taking in a deep breath. "What were you doing in Alan's backyard two nights ago?"

His eyes narrowed more. He stared at me for several seconds. Then he burst into laughter. "For a minute there, you had me. What is this, some kind of joke?"

"The joke is on me—me, Alan and Conner, I guess. Does the Countess know? Of course she does. You're her slave."

When I called him a slave, Petros' nostrils flared momentarily. Then, he smiled, an attempt at shaking off the anger that was rising inside.

"If you're trying to get me to attack you, it—"

"Does Lara know? Do the Duprees? Whoever your accomplices are, you guys almost succeeded in killing us all last night, along with Great Aunt Winsome."

"Last night?"

"The Lycorian from Alan's pool followed us to the Wonder Water Bottling plant. If the rest of the sea trolls discover the location of Winnie's hot spring, it's on you. No matter how much you might try to deny it. You set us up. It's on you."

"Lower your voice," he said, his own voice dropping several octaves. He peered around, making sure no one had overheard. "Follow me."

"Where to?" I demanded.

"Please! I will explain all. Just follow me."

Something in his attitude had changed when I mentioned Great Aunt Winsome. So I followed. He led me through one of the high ceilinged archways, and down a long corridor. We reached a low archway, passed through, and then went down a short flight of stairs. We entered a padded room laden with all sorts of weights and workout equipment. It appeared to be a gym of sorts, although there were no mirrors present.

"This is Rive and my private workout quarters."

"No mirrors?"

"Yes, well, we don't need to be reminded of how we look."

He pointed to a simple, wooden chair by the water cooler. As soon as I sat, he stepped up to me.

"How are you so certain I was in the Feinman's yard a few days ago?"

I squirmed in the chair, suddenly feeling as though I was on the witness stand.

"You were captured on the surveillance equipment Alan, Conner, and I installed. Didn't know about that, did you?"

"Ah," he said, and nodded. "Who else knows of this?"

"No one."

"What about Alan?"

"I haven't told anyone, yet." _Stupid!_ As soon as I said it, I got the feeling I'd signed my own death warrant. "But Conner will check the equipment when he comes over tonight," I added, hoping the lie bought me my life back. "If I'm not home tonight to erase it, well..." I let the sentence trail off.

"I do not wish to harm you, Josh."

"Okay. Cool." I cast another quick glance toward the doorway, planning my escape route just in case.

"And you say the Lycorian followed you to Great Aunt Winsome's last night?"

"He attacked her. He could have killed her. He could have killed us all."

"Oh, my," he said, and began pacing. "It's not supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to be like this." His words filled with sudden torment. He stopped pacing, and peered at me. "I suppose I owe you an explanation," he said, grudgingly.

"Uh-huh. I suppose you do."

He heaved a labored sigh. "To do that, I must tell you of an incident that occurred several years ago."

Petros' Tale

It happened shortly after Rive's arrival. I was quite happy having Rive around. Before him, there hadn't been another for quite some time. I also enjoyed that we both enjoyed working out. I was hoping we would become friends.

The turn was easy for Rive, much easier than it had been for me. He was so in love with Asia. He was devoted to her, and the Nereid.

We started working out together. This was long before the workout room. We would work out in the meadow, or along one of the hidden trails. We were both dedicated to making sure we were strong and fit to defend our lovers and all the Nereid.

Quite by accident, I discovered a lovely stretch of beach just above Malibu, near the Ventura county line, that was deserted in the early morning just prior to sun up. I told Rive about it, and we added running on the beach in the mornings to our regimen.

It was glorious running along that stretch of beach in the early morning. It allowed us time to bond, as well as to get away from the compound for a little while.

We'd been running on the beach for about two weeks, when one morning, as the sun began to rise, Rive spotted what looked to me like a giant clump of seaweed lying in the surf. Rive said that it wasn't seaweed. It was a human, and that he'd seen him move.

I wanted to keep running. I didn't believe it was a human, and even if it was, we were supposed to remain unseen. With no Nereid around to charm the person, our secret would be out if a human saw us.

Yes, there were occasions when we encountered humans on the beach, but we were counting on a person seeing two satyrs running in the distance as believing it was nothing more than an early morning optical illusion.

On this day, Rive would not be denied. He insisted on investigating. When we arrived at the shore, I saw that Rive had been right—sort of. It wasn't seaweed we'd seen being tossed in the surf, it was a sea creature.

We knew of Lycorians, of course. We knew of their blood thirsty desire to wipe the Nereid from the face of the earth, but neither of us had ever encountered one before, so we didn't know what the creature was. What we saw was a creature who was dying.

Rive had been in medical school when he met Asia. So even while I told him we should leave the creature and run on, his commitment to the Hippocratic oath made him stay, made us stay.

We dragged the creature from the surf, and Rive attended to him until the sun was up, and we had to vacate the beach or risk being seen. We found a small cave. We dragged the still unconscious creature into the cave, and promised we'd return.

During the day, Rive acquired medical supplies. We gathered lots of water and some food. We were aware there was the chance someone had found the creature and killed it, or the creature had regained consciousness and returned to the sea, but by then we were obligated.

We were both on pins and needles when we returned to the cave the next morning; both overjoyed to see that the creature was still there, and that he had awakened.

"You're back," the creature said, although he didn't speak. The creature was a telepath. He communicated with us through his thoughts.

"You're awake," Rive said. "Don't speak. Rest."

Rive knew just what was ailing the creature. He gave him antibiotics, and told him to stay put for another few days, and to eat and drink lots of water. We stayed with the creature until the sun came up. Only then did we depart.

When Rive returned home, he told Asia what he had done, saved a life. When he described the creature, Asia became quite alarmed, telling him the creature was the Nereid's sworn enemy, a Lycorian.

Rive said he didn't care. It was a life, and he had saved it, and that's what he was sworn to do. Asia said he should have let it die, but since he hadn't, when he returned to the creature, if it was still alive, he should kill it.

Rive was quite emotional when he told me what had happened. He loved Asia. In his mind, she was perfect, but he couldn't take a life, especially a life he had saved.

When we returned to the cave the next morning, we found it empty. I breathed a sigh of relief, and I imagine Rive was doing the same. I had yet to tell Eudora of what we'd done. Maybe now, I wouldn't have to.

We were standing in the cave, staring silently at the spot where we'd left the creature.

"Breakfast gentlemen," we heard. It wasn't spoken. It was in our heads. We turned to see the creature entering the cave behind us carrying a freshly killed goat.

While we didn't join him for breakfast, we stayed and chatted. We were both very uncomfortable, but at the same time, we were both overjoyed that the creature was returning to good health.

"You two are very brave," the creature said in our heads.

"I know we risked the chance of being discovered, but it was well worth it," Rive replied.

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about risking the wrath of the Nereid."

Rive and I looked at one another—caught.

"You know?" I said.

"At first I was too depleted to notice. But it's hard not to notice two satyrs. Once I recovered, I recalled that satyrs are sworn to protect the Nereid. That's when I knew."

Rive and I looked at one another, and we both erupted with laughter. I can't say why. I've never quite been able to put my finger on it. That day, Rive and I and the creature became fast friends. His name was Laertes.

My dedication, however, is to my one true love. There are no secrets between Eudora and me. That evening, I told her what we had done.

I expected her wrath. We'd just saved the life of the Nereid's sworn enemy. Eudora has had members of the tribe put to death for far lesser offenses.

Perhaps, it was our love for one another that spared me. She told me she was proud of me, happy that Rive and I had bonded, but that friendship with the creature was impossible. She told me that if I could not swear that I would kill the creature the next time I saw it, that I must swear to never see the creature again.

So Rive and I swore we'd never see the creature again, and for many years we held true to our promise, until a few weeks ago.

"What happened a few weeks ago?" I asked.

Petros, who was once again pacing, stopped and looked at me. "A few weeks ago, Eudora's sister, Roxanne moved out of the compound. Nereid have left before, wanting a different life. Not often, but it happens. But this was family, her sister. It pained Eudora deeply. She wept into the night. She was inconsolable."

"I can't picture Eudora weeping over anyone."

Petros glanced at me with twitchy eyes. I guess I shouldn't have said it. I again measured the distance between myself and the door.

"Eudora is a very emotional woman, capable of deep, deep love," he said softly.

Clearly a side of Eudora I hadn't seen.

"So what happened after her sister left?"

"One morning, a few days after Roxanne moved out, taking Eudora's favorite niece with her, Eudora came to me, and began asking questions about the Lycorian. She wanted to know if I thought we could find him again. She said we'd saved his life. He owed us. Now it was time to repay the debt."

I stared at him, my mouth dropping open as it all came together. "Eudora told you to hide the Lycorian in Alan's pool. She was committing her sister and niece to death. That doesn't sound like sisterly love to me."

"She didn't want the Lycorian to kill them," Petros blurted, raising his voice.

"Lycorians see Nereid as an irresistible dining opportunity. That's what they do."

Petros' shoulders slumped. "I know, I know. And that's what we told Laertes to get him there. We told him these were bad Nereid and that he could do himself and us a favor. We'd make it easy for him to have two tasty Nereid. But that was all a lie. All we wanted to do was frighten them back home. Nothing scares a Nereid more than a Lycorian."

At that moment, I understood. "But Roxanne thwarted you. Even though she knew there was a Lycorian next door, she refused to return."

"Even after Rive and I put the dead coyote in the neighboring pool, even after I smashed the sliding glass door."

"That was you?"

"It was a desperate attempt to lure them back before something horrible happened. The night you recorded me, I was making a last ditch attempt to get Laertes to leave your friend's pool and return to the sea. I promised him all kinds of favors. He said that Rive and I had double crossed him, just as his people said we would." Petros began shaking his head back and forth, his deep despair written all over his face.

"And still he refused to leave," I said, jumping ahead.

"He lost all faith in us. He told me he wouldn't leave until he got what he came for."

"That still doesn't explain how he knew that we were going to Great Aunt Winsome's. Someone had to alert him."

"Not necessarily. He could have overheard. He no longer trusted us. Perhaps he ventured outside the pool desperate to get what he came for, and overheard you talking."

"Perhaps," I said. I wanted to believe Petros. He seemed far different than the satyr who'd pounced on me in the garden that night.

"Alan has got his mind set on killing the creature," I said, peering into his eyes.

"I know," he replied.

"I promised I'd help. I'm sure you also know that if we try, we die."

He stared at me for several seconds, not speaking, just staring. I had no idea what was going on inside.

After a while, I spoke up again. "We can't get Roxanne to pull up stakes and return here, and the creature won't leave until he's gotten what he came for. Looks like I don't have to worry about becoming a satyr like you after all. I will be dead long before that ever happens."

"Don't say that. We have to capture Laertes, and return him to the sea unharmed. While he will still be angry at Rive and me, it's the only way to prevent an all-out war."

"No one said anything about war."

"Think about it. The Lycorians warned Laertes we would double cross him. If he is harmed or killed, they will be proven right, and they will want revenge."

Petros and I sat in silence for several more minutes, the fate of the Nereid scrawled across both our faces.

"I got it," I said. You're right. Rather than kill the creature, Alan and I will capture him. Alan will still look like a hero to Alexia. All she cares about is getting the creature out of the pool. So we capture him, and return him to the sea. No harm, no foul."

"Good idea, but how?" he asked, intrigued.

I told him all I'd been told about subduing the creature. "And now that we have the enchantment, once he's back in the pool, he will be easy to capture."

Petros gave me a quick shake of the head. "He doesn't trust us, Josh. The creature will be on high alert around the Feinman swimming pool. There will be no way to trick him out of the pool drain long enough to enchant him. For your plan to work, you will have to lure him away from the Feinman's to someplace where he believes he's finally going to get what he came for. You'll need to catch him off guard, and to do that, you're going to need bait."

I found Conner in his bedroom.

The drapes were drawn, and he was lying in bed, the room bathed in darkness. He wasn't sleeping. He was staring at the ceiling.

"Conner?" I called softly, and he stirred.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What's up, Buttsoap?" His eyes were red, with dark circles beneath them.

"Buttsoap?"

"What can I say? I'm out of practice." He grinned at me. "What are you doing here? You guys kill the creature already?"

"You and I both know that's a fool's mission," I said, straight-faced.

"Ain't that the truth. So, what's up?"

"Are you still in the summer drama program at school?"

"Uh-huh," he replied. "Why?"

I caught him up on what had happened the previous night, and my conversation with Petros.

He looked at the scratch on my arm. Then he moved to the window, opening the drapes, letting some light in. He came back, and examined the scratch more closely. He began to pale. "And you say you got that from the creature last night?"

"Yeah, but it's no biggie. It doesn't even hurt."

"I gotta disagree with you, Josh. It's a biggie, all right. It's a very big biggie."

He reached down to the cuff of his jeans, and began rolling up his pants leg.

### Chapter Twenty-Six

Conner finished rolling up his pants leg and turned his calf to the light. The skin on his calf had become dark and scaly, taking on the texture of lizard skin.

"This is how the wound on my calf has been healing," he said. There was an undertow of fear in his voice.

"The wound area has grown."

"It gets a little bigger every day," he said softly, and I understood why he was lying in darkness, why he'd been having trouble sleeping.

I touched it, and instinctively pulled my finger back in revulsion. "Sorry."

"It feels like snake skin, huh?"

I nodded. The roof of my mouth had gone dry. Absently, I ran a finger along the scratch on my arm. A scab was just beginning to form.

"I take it you haven't seen a doctor?" I asked.

"'Course not. You think my Dad and step Mom are going to take _me_ to the doctor for a _rash?_ "

I know what he meant. If one of his sitters got an angry looking pimple, Conner's folks would seek out the best specialist in Beverly Hills, but it didn't work like that for Conner.

"So, you go to the free clinic. I'll go with you."

"How would I explain it, Buttbrain? I got scratched by the creature in Alan's pool, and now I think I'm turning into one? I don't think there's a cure for this, Josh. At least not one known by a medical doctor."

"Let's not jump to conclusions," I said, trying to rationalize.

"I'm not jumping to anything. In a few weeks I'll be a creature." He stared at his hands. "I wonder when these will turn to claws."

"It could just be a condition. A rash caused by some bacteria that got in the open wound. It doesn't mean you're turning into anything."

He pointed to the thin scratch scabbing up on my arm. "At least I'll have company."

"I don't believe it. I think you should see a doctor. Lie to him about how you got the scratches. I bet he gives you some antibiotics, and they clear it right up."

"Right," he said. He moved to the window and drew the drapes, once again bathing us in darkness. Then he came back and lay down on the bed.

"Do you feel any different?" I asked, moving in closer.

"Not yet," he said without looking at me. The tone of his voice was making me uneasy. It was sounding as if he'd given up.

"The creature is telepathic. Have you developed telepathy?"

He chuckled derisively. "How would I know?"

"Tell me what I'm thinking?" I said, grasping at straws. "Right now."

"You're thinking about girls and food," he replied without missing a beat.

"Okay... that was too easy. It proves nothing. What girl? What food?"

"Lara and pizza."

"Okay, that was too easy, too."

Conner sat up. "I don't feel telepathic, Josh. I didn't feel anything coming from you."

"See?"

"But maybe I can't read dipsticks." He snorted out a laugh. I was glad to see he hadn't lost his sense of humor. "It's too bad the fall play isn't _Beauty and The Beast_. I'd win that role hands down."

He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in silence. I didn't know what to say to cheer him up, and my time was running short.

"Look, Conner. I seriously believe you're jumping to conclusions, but I can't deal with that right now. Right now, I've got to keep me and Alan alive. When I'm done with that, we will figure this out. Together. But first, I need your help."

The sun was nearly down by the time I got to Alan's. I found him in the back, lying on a lounge chair, staring vacantly into the pool. Like Conner, he was in a contemplative mood.

As I approached, I spotted the two bottles of enchanted water standing by the foot of the lounge chair. The spear gun was in the chair next to him. Three extra spears lay by its side.

Seeing the instruments of death, I got a sick feeling in my stomach, the kind you get with the onset of the flu. Of course, I knew it wasn't an illness that was causing it.

"Hey," I called softly, stopping next to him.

He looked up from his reverie. A smile darted across his lips, resting there for just a few seconds before vanishing. It was the smile of a runner who had come in last in the race, and was trying his damnedest to tell himself it was okay.

"We're geeks, aren't we?" he said.

"Naw, man. We're mad cool."

The smile returned for another few seconds. " _Sure_ we are."

He went back to staring into the pool, and the sick feeling in my stomach began to spread.

Alan began talking, his voice coming from far away. "I was twelve when I had the only fight I've ever been in. I was in my bedroom, fighting with you." He gazed up at me, and I could see the fear in his eyes. "You remember that fight?"

"Yeah. We were fighting over G.I. Joe with the Kung Fu grip. Your father got you one of the originals on Ebay."

"My father had closed a big stock offering, and made a boatload of money. He bought me and my Mom expensive gifts." Alan looked off wistfully for a moment. It was as if he was trying to wish himself back to yesteryear when things weren't so complicated. "I was so proud of that damn thing. I wouldn't let you, or anyone touch it. My Mom broke up the fight. My only fight and nobody won." He gazed at me again. "Dude, fighting over G.I. Joe at age twelve certifies us as card carrying geeks."

I couldn't deny it, so I moved on to what was really eating him.

"We don't have to do this," I said.

"I do," he replied quickly.

"Why?"

"Let me ask you something? Did you ever think that one of us would wind up with Alexia Dupree? I mean, really?"

"No, I didn't."

"Me, either. I figured we'd spend the summer dreaming about her, scheming to be with her, arguing over who had rights to talk to her, but in the end, we all knew she'd wind up with a smooth dude like Gary Shanks. But she didn't, did she? She wound up with me. _I_ scored the hottest chick in Beverly Hills High."

"So what?" I said, my voice rising. "You two have nothing in common. What do you even talk about?"

"Her, mostly. I don't mind."

"A guy should be with someone he can talk to about stuff, do things with, share. Being with a hot chick if you don't have something in common is meaningless."

He chuckled. "Now you're sounding like a dipstick. We're in high school, Josh. Being with a hot chick is _everything_. And if it means I have to kill a creature to keep her, then I'm killing a creature."

I realized this was about more than Alexia having the power of enchantment over him. He wanted to be enchanted by her.

I leaned in and whispered in his ear. "We need to finish this discussion inside," I said, with a quick nod toward the pool.

"Sure. No problem."

He scooped up the bottles, while I grabbed the spear gun and spears. We entered the house through the sliding glass doors and headed down to his bedroom.

Once we were in his bedroom, among the rock star posters, the wrestling posters, the board games we used to play, and the video games we currently played, the tension between us melted away.

"I have a new plan, one where we get rid of the creature without killing him," I said, still speaking in hushed tones.

Alan didn't respond, but I could see the glimmer of hope brightening his eyes. I told him everything, about seeing Petros captured on video by the pool, about my talk with Petros that very morning, the entire plan.

He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at me, mouth agape as I laid it all out. As I went on, the color slowly returned to his cheeks.

"And Conner said he'd do it?" he asked when I finished. He and Conner had had their first big blow up ever. Getting Conner back in the fold was a coup.

"He's in, and the only reason he is is because this is the best way for everyone to come out of this mess alive, even the creature."

His eyes were on me, penetrating me. The hard lines around the corners relaxed. "Thanks, Josh," he said, and he breathed a deep sigh. "I like it."

I lowered my voice. "Alexia and Roxanne cannot know how the creature got into your pool drain. That's for someone else to tell them."

He nodded. "Okay. What else?"

"One final thing. To pull this off, we're going to need bait."

### Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Bait!" Alexia exclaimed at the top of her lungs. "Oh, Alan, how could you? How could you?"

We were once again in the Dupree living room. Roxanne was seated on the sofa filing her nails. Alexia stood in the middle of the room, performing.

"Alexia, Sweetie, it's a good plan," said Alan, trying to reason with her. "There's no way we'll let you get hurt. You'll have me, Josh, Petros and Rive, all there to protect you."

"I'll have _you_ ," she said, lasering me with angry eyes. " _They_ don't care about me."

My turn.

"Alexia, we can't lure the creature up to the school without you. He won't follow us, but he _will_ follow your scent. Without you, there's no reason for him to follow me and Alan up there. If he doesn't follow us, he stays in the pool, biding his time until he can attack you and your mother and kill you both." I let the thought of being creature food sink in for a beat. "Once the creature arrives at school, you can leave."

"Tell Alan you don't care about me," she said, her tone turning accusatory.

"That's got nothing to do with this."

"It's got _everything_ to do with this," she squawked. "Tell him!

I swallowed hard. I could not allow Alexia to seize control of the moment. Alan was firmly behind the plan. The last thing I needed was for her to mess things up with a selfish tantrum.

"Alexia, we both care," I started, but could feel my voice faltering. There was no way I could complete the sentence _about you_ , without sounding totally fake. She was right. I didn't care about her one bit.

"Oh, Alan, I thought at least _you_ cared about me," she said. Tears began streaming from her eyes. It was as if someone had turned on a sprinkler system—a truly masterful performance.

"Of course I care about you," Alan replied weakly, and I got the feeling if I let her go on, I'd lose him.

"Don't you care about _him?"_ I said, finding my voice. "He's risking his life for you. At least with this plan the odds of us surviving are in our favor."

"Alan, your friend is mean. So, so mean. How can you let him talk to me that way?"

I turned to Roxanne, my eyes appealing. She pretended not to notice I was staring daggers at her. Roxanne's attention was on her finger nails.

"If you really cared for Alan, you'd want to be sure he came back alive," I said, turning my wrath back on Alexia.

"If he really cared for _me_ , he wouldn't ask me to do something so _dangerous_ ," she shrieked.

She was behaving like a spoiled child. It was obvious how one-sided their relationship was, and on just whose side all the weight rested. I thought knowing that Alexia was willing to let him die would open Alan's eyes to how things really were with them. I was so, so wrong.

"Alexia, I do care. I lo... love you," Alan stammered.

Alexia threw the wadded up chewing gum wrapper she'd been holding at him, and ran off down the hall crying out: "Nobody loves me! NOBODY!"

"I can't let you say bad things about my woman."

I looked over at Alan. His face had gone beet red. His hands were knotted into fists. I turned to Roxanne who looked on blank-faced. We'd finally gotten her attention, if that's what you want to call it. She stared at us if she were watching a cricket match.

Roxanne Dupree was a mystery to me. She wouldn't move back up to the Applegate fortress because she didn't want her daughter to be influenced by Eudora, yet she wouldn't lift a finger to stop her daughter from running roughshod over everyone around her. I gave up on Roxanne, and faced my friend.

"I'm sorry," I said, lowering my voice. "But a girl who sends her boyfriend off to die is not _your_ woman."

"Maybe we need to rethink this friendship," Alan replied through tight lips.

His words stunned me. Despite what he'd told me about the importance having a hot chick, _and_ knowing that this particular hot chick had him under her spell, I was still caught off guard. To be quite honest, I was hurt. Perhaps it was because our friendship meant so much to me, more than I realized until that very moment.

"You want to throw our friendship away for Alexia Dupree?" I asked, the words scraping up my throat.

We stood gazing at each other, five years of friendship hanging in the balance. We'd been there for one another since we were twelve years-old, through thick and thin, good and bad. Somehow that friendship was fast approaching the finish line.

Just then, Alexia stomped back into the room. "Here!" she said, throwing a pillow into Alan's face. "I sleep on that pillow every night. It smells just like me."

Alan pulled the pillow from his face and eyed me hopefully. "Her scent is all over it," he said.

I nodded. "You and me are going back over to your place and have a conversation by the pool. After that, this thing is in motion. We can't stop it. Got it?"

He nodded.

The end of our friendship had been narrowly averted... for now.

Alan and I went next door and stood by his pool talking about how lucky we were to be taking Alexia and Lara to an intimate summer dance at Beverly Hills High the following evening. Two tasty Nereid in the same place at the same time. After that, I went home to have dinner with my family, aware that it could very well be the last meal we shared.

Because I could not stop for death,

He kindly stopped for me.

Wearing a suit and tie on one of the hottest nights of the summer is a wardrobe choice destined to call attention to a young man, especially when said young man lives in a community where hopping from pool party to pool party is the norm on a hot summer's night. Sneaking up to Beverly Hills high school dressed for the spring dance—not so normal.

Still, Alan and I were trekking up Olympic Boulevard, each wearing our three piece suits, dressed as if we were headed to a dress-up affair. If the suits weren't bad enough, Alan had insisted on wearing the ankle length duster he bought during his _The Matrix_ period, when he swore he was Neo incarnate. Ah, the eighth grade. He was also carrying the pillow with Alexia's scent all over it. Needless to say, we stuck out like a pair of Eskimos at a beach party.

"I'm beginning to think this is a bad idea," I mumbled under my breath as we crossed Elm.

"It's not," Alan said. "So far, none of our classmates have seen us. No one has asked us where we're going. And if someone does, we lie."

Alan was hopped up from the sendoff Alexia had given him, all touchy-feely and smoochy, with just the right amount of tears. She acted as if Alan were a soldier heading off to war. I knew Alexia could care less if Alan came back alive. All she cared about was making the creature go bye-bye.

I cared. My objective was for both of us to come out of this unharmed.

"If someone spots a couple of fifteen year-olds wearing suits lurking around the school, it'll be pretty easy for the police to figure out who it is. It'll take about five minutes of investigating for them to narrow it down to us—the only two guys in three piece suits on a summer night."

"So what? By the time that happens, the creature will be captured."

"Right," I replied, not wanting to poke anymore holes in my own plan. "I'd still like to graduate without a criminal record, Alan. I imagine you would, too."

He was silent for a few minutes. I guess he hadn't thought of that.

"As long as Conner handles his end, nothing can go wrong," he said with the supreme confidence of a fool.

"Right," I replied a second time.

Once we crossed Camden Drive the streets became dark and deserted. There were far fewer pedestrians, far less chance of someone we knew spotting us.

"Hey, man, thanks for... umm, what you did at Winnie's last night."

You mean, rescuing Great Aunt Winsome from the creature while you quaked in your boots?

"What do you mean?" I asked, playing dumb.

"I wasn't at the top of my game last night. Too much excitement from the day, I guess. Thanks for stepping up."

"No problem," I said.

"Cause you know if I'da had my throwing stars with me, I would have—"

"It's over, bro," I said, interrupting what we both knew was a bunch of bull. "Besides, we _both_ saved Winnie."

"Yeah, we did, didn't we?" he said, still trying to convince himself he was every bit the action hero Alexia wanted him to be.

As we neared campus, we both ran out of things to say. Our footsteps slowed as neither of us was in any hurry to discover our fate. A poem from Lara's leather bound book came to mind:

A slumber did my spirit seal;

I had no human fears:

She seemed a thing that could not feel

The touch of earthly years.

It was a beautiful poem. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I loved the way it rolled off my tongue, the way it resonated in my mind. The poem seemed to be saying that the writer had been going through life almost as if he were asleep, devoid of any common human fears until something woke him up.

I didn't know if that's what Wordsworth meant, but that's what it meant to me. The way I interpreted it, I'd been living in my tiny Beverly Hills teenage bubble with no knowledge or understanding of true love, or sacrifice. Then Lara came along, awakening me from my slumber with her love. Because of that love, I was about to undertake an act I would have deemed far too risky just a week ago—sacrificing myself to help out a friend.

While I knew Petros and Rive would be there to do the dirty work, there was a clear danger involved in our part. Anything could go wrong. We both knew it. We both dreaded it, and if not for my recent awakening, or the spell Alexia had placed on Alan, neither of us would have been here. Despite Alan's desire to show off his expertise with throwing stars, we both knew we were geeks, not heroes.

We arrived on campus, and moved into the shadows that lined the gymnasium wall. As we slid along the wall, staying out of the light, I began getting a creepy feeling. The campus seemed unusually quiet. While it wasn't unusual for the campus to be deserted on an August night, this quiet seemed to cry out that something was wrong.

We'd said barely a word to one another since we crossed Camden Dive, and now as we approached the side gym door that faced the parking lot, Alan said. "This is it." His voice was scratchy.

"Yeah," I replied, only to discover that my voice was equally scratchy. The same trepidation bubbling in his belly was bubbling in mine.

"Maybe he couldn't pull it off," I said, with an air of hope. If Conner wasn't able to accomplish his end of the plan, it wouldn't be our fault if we were unable to carry out our end.

Maybe," Alan replied. We reached the side gym door. He rapped on it with his knuckles.

We stood in silence, both holding our breaths, both ready to admit defeat. Would defeat be so bad? We'd go back home and explain to Alexia that Conner didn't show, so we were unable to get in. She'd stomp her feet and call Alan a fool for ever trusting me, adding fuel to the flame that was already consuming our friendship. And maybe our friendship would be over, and maybe it wouldn't, but one thing would be certain—we'd still be alive.

It was then we heard footsteps approaching on the other side of the door. I don't know about Alan, but my heart began to sink. A few moments later, the door pushed open.

"Hey, Guys," Conner said. "You made it."

### Chapter Twenty-Eight

Conner had gone to his summer drama workshop that afternoon, but instead of leaving with the other drama students, he ducked out and hid in the boys locker room until the school was empty. Then he set about taking care of his part of the plan.

He escorted us into the corridor that led to the double doors of the gymnasium. This was the entrance used when the school held a sporting event. The corridor was dark with the exception of a few exit sign lights, and the dull glow coming from the trophy case.

"I brought you a leftover meatloaf sandwich," I said. "I know you must be hungry."

"I'm freakin' starving. I've been here since eleven o'clock this morning."

I handed Conner the sandwich that had gotten squished up in my pocket, and he began devouring it on the spot. He had no problem with the squishiness.

"Your Mom makes good meatloaf," he said between bites.

"Yeah," I replied, thinking my family had no idea what their youngest son was doing tonight. If things went my way, they'd never find out.

"Did you rig it?" Alan asked, seeming impatient.

"Done," Conner said. He threw the last bite into his mouth, and licked his fingertips. "I even had time to rig some music and a disco ball," he added, smiling.

"Great. We owe you one," I said. "Guess you can go now."

"Think I'll... stick around," Conner said, his smile widening.

"Thanks," I said, grateful to have my other best friend joining the team.

"If things get a little hairy, just stay out of the way. I got this," Alan said. He seemed annoyed that Conner was joining us.

"No, problem," Conner replied, taken aback.

"Let's do this!" Alan said. He began walking confidently toward the double doors.

I glanced over at Conner, and we shared a private smile. Alan's surly behavior was a dipstick move, something we'd tease him about later when this was all behind us.

We started down the hall behind him. As we moved, a figure emerged from the shadows, appearing almost as if by magic between us and the gymnasium doors.

"Cr...cr...creature!" Alan cried out. He stopped cold, and crooked a finger at the thing in the shadows. Aside from the pointing finger, he didn't move. He was frozen to the spot.

I jumped in front of him. I don't know why, Alan was the one with the enchanted water concealed in his coat, the one with the throwing stars. Perhaps it was because I knew that despite the bravado he exhibited a few minutes earlier, he was frightened.

The thing stepped toward us, out of the shadows and into the light. My heart lurched in my chest. It wasn't the creature who was moving toward us, it was Lara.

She came dressed for the spring dance as well, wearing an elegant, strapless sweetheart dress. The beaded bodice was black with a white a-line skirt that stopped just above her knees. She wore silver, strappy sandals on her feet. In her hair, she wore a crown of daisies.

My breath caught when she stepped from the shadows, both out of surprise, and because in that moment, she was even more beautiful than I'd ever imagined.

She smiled when she saw the way I was gaping at her.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice even scratchier than earlier.

"I'm the bait," she replied.

"No! No way," I said, sobering up quickly. "It's too dangerous."

"Why not?" Alan called from behind me. "If Alexia can be the bait, why can't Lara?"

I wheeled on him. "Alexia _should_ be the bait. The creature wants her and Roxanne. Lara's got nothing to do with this."

"You're so willing for my girl to be that bait, but not yours. Is that it?"

"She's not your girl, bro. Can't you see that?"

"Stop!" Lara cried out. "We don't have time for this."

I wheeled back around. I was seething with rage. I couldn't tell which of them had angered me more: Lara for being there, or Alan for wanting her there.

"You're even cuter when you're mad," she said, her smile widening, her green eyes crinkling.

I moved to her, and with each step I could feel my anger draining away. I tried holding onto it, but it was no use, her confounding smile had seen to that.

"What are you doing here?" I repeated when I arrived at her side. She was even more intoxicating up close.

"I told you, I'm the bait. If the creature came all the way up here and discovered it came for just a pillow, it might decide to teach you and Alan a lesson."

"So what?" The words detonated from my lips. "Why do you care what happens to me? You don't want to be with me, so let me live my life."

"I love you."

"Stop saying that. Never say that again. All it does is make things worse."

"You're not going to run me off this time, Joshua. I'm here because I love you. You're right, I don't want to be with you, and you know why. But I love you just the same, so deal with it."

"You! You're so... you're so darned..." I was so angry the words would not form.

I grabbed her, my fingers digging into her shoulders. Her eyes shot open in fearful surprise. I pulled her to me, and kissed her. My lips crushed against hers, our teeth gnashing together.

That kiss was the possessor of all the joy I felt holding her in my arms, and all my rage at her for being there. My fear and sadness seasoned the rage filled concoction.

We stood in the darkened corridor, surrounded by my friends, engulfed in a bundle of sweet bitter, each kissing the other hungrily, angrily. When our lips finally parted, mine ached from the pressure of the kiss. We were both out of breath and panting.

"The pillow never would have worked," Lara whispered in my ear, her words coming in breathy gasps. "Now that I'm here, the Lycorian will be on his way."

"Thank you," I said, realizing all the fight had been kissed out of me.

I took her by the hand, and continued down the hall. Together, we pushed through the double doors and entered the gym. The lights were low, music was playing, and the disco ball twirled, casting huge rotating snowflakes onto the gymnasium floor. Conner had done an excellent job of setting the stage for the creature's capture.

"Can I have this dance?" I said.

Lara smiled a radiant smile that squeezed my heart. "I thought you'd never ask."

I escorted her out to the center of the gym floor (it had to be the center). I took her gently into my arms, and we danced. I wasn't much of a dance. I'm not much of a dancer, but I tried my best being I was with such a beautiful girl. We swayed back and forth to the music, my nose nesting in her hair. Her fragrance wafted up to me.

I knew I had business to take care of, and yet I also knew I could stay out on the dance floor with Lara nestled safely in my arms forever, drinking in the glorious fragrance of her hair.

After a few moments, an even more romantic song began to play. _Always And Forever_. The song was an oldie, a spring dance staple that I'd heard at two spring dances as well as on oldies stations, but until that moment, I hadn't truly appreciated the song.

My newfound love of poetry allowed me to hear just how beautifully poetic the lyrics were. The singer was saying that each moment with his girl was like a dream that had somehow come true.

It was silly of me not to realize before then that there was poetry in song lyrics. Poetry was everywhere. I was surrounded by poetics, and now that I was free of my dream state, I was able to appreciate it.

In the distance, I heard the gym door open and then close. I glanced over in the direction of the door. No one was there. Worms began squirming in my belly.

"He's inside," Lara whispered.

"I know," I whispered back.

"No matter what happens, I love you," she said.

"I love you, too."

I stepped out of her arms and away from her. I took another step back, and then another.

Lara screamed.

### Chapter Twenty-Nine

The creature was standing dead center of the gym floor, one powerful arm locked securely around Lara's waist, while the other giant pincer closed around her throat. Lara looked over at me, wide-eyed and helpless.

"Now!" I cried out.

The lights came up full blast, and a large net fell from the rafters, corralling both of them. In the past, the netting had been used to hold balloons to drop down on students during the prom. Tonight it was a trap.

As soon as the net settled over them, Lara moved quickly, securing one of the creature's giant pincers with a large blue rubber band. The creature released Lara's waist, and lurched for her throat with his second pincer. Lara moved faster than our eyes could register, and before we knew it, both of the creature's pincers were secured with large rubber bands.

"Alan, now!" I called.

Alan stepped from the shadows, and dumped the two bottles of enchanted spring water over of the creature, while Lara scrambled to get out from under the net.

There was no "I'm melting!" or anything like that. The creature silently squirmed, as Alan poured the enchanted water over it.

Once the bottles had been emptied over the creature, I called out: "We got him, Conner." Then, the clunking, grinding of gears filled the gym, and the net slowly began being hauled up off the floor, pulling in its deadly catch.

We three stood where we were, intently watching the net rise from the floor. Once the netted creature was five feet above the floor, the gear grinding ceased, and the net stopped rising.

I continued gaping at the creature squirming in the net like a giant lobster. I couldn't believe how easy it had been to secure him.

"Your turn, Dude. Open the gym floor," came Conner's voice from over the PA system.

"On my way," I called back. I gazed over at Alan who also seemed amazed at what we had accomplished. "You okay to stay here and watch him? We'll be right back," I said.

"No problem," Alan replied, and I could tell from the sound of his voice his machismo had returned full blast.

"Come with me," I said to Lara, and we hastily exited the gym.

The Beverly Hills high school gymnasium is one of the world's great technological marvels. A key is placed in a special lock and then turned, and the gym floor parts like the Red Sea, unveiling the beautiful Beverly Hills high school swimming pool beneath the floor.

The pool had been around for a long time. The gym floor and pool were used in a very famous scene in the nineteen forty-six movie, _It's A Wonderful Life_. Young, James Stewart, and his dance partner, Donna Reed, along with other students are at a school hop, dancing up a storm with no idea the floor is opening until it's too late. The gym floor opens, and they all topple into the pool. It's a great scene from a classic movie.

The Beverly Hills high school gymnasium and pool was a mechanical wonder then, and it was still a wonder today, more than seventy-five years after it had been constructed. The pool beneath the floor was also the perfect lobster pot to subdue the Lycorian.

Lara and I raced through the halls and upstairs to the booth above the gym floor. Both Conner and I were members of the school's AV team—the geek squad as they were called—since our freshman year. Being on the team, I knew many of the school's secrets, including where Coach Campo stashed the gym floor key.

When we arrived in the booth, I went right to the key's hiding place. Once I retrieved the key, and turned it in the lock, the floor would open and Conner would lower the creature into the pool. Once this happened, our part of the plan would be done. The rest would be up to Petros and Rive.

Alan and The Creature

Alan stood guarding the creature, and feeling good about himself. Alexia would be pleased.

_If this thing tries to get out, I'm going to nail him with a throwing star,_ Alan mused, even though he knew if the creature were to escape he'd run for his life.

"Hey, Pal, aren't you going to release me?"

Alan's head whipped around as he glanced in all directions. That's when it dawned on him the words had not been spoken out loud. The words were in his mind.

"Huh?" he said out loud.

"Let me down. It's very uncomfortable up here." The creature's telepathic words crept into Alan's thoughts.

"I don't care," Alan called out loud, eyeing the creature with contempt.

"Come on, Alan, you can stop with the games now. There's no one around but us."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The creature chuckled in his thoughts. "It means we're on the same side. Always have been."

"No, I'm not. And in a few minutes, we're going to dump your sorry ass in the pool."

The sound of more gears beginning to churn echoed throughout the gymnasium as the floor began to part.

"Come on, Pal! You know it was you who tipped me off to follow your friends to the old lady's place."

No, I didn't!" Alan blurted, and yet a small part of him thought he remembered stopping off by the pool just before they called for their ride. Or was that just a trick the Lycorian was playing with his mind?

"You were right to tip me off. Those two don't have your best interest at heart. The only one who cares what happens to you is me" The Lycorian's words oozed into his mind like a soothing balm. "I bet I know what those two love birds are doing right now while you're down here twiddling your thumbs. And it involves way more than kissing."

"You're wrong. Josh is my best friend."

" _Was_ your best friend." The creature gazed down and saw that the floor below had opened two feet. His words took on a sense of urgency. "We both know Josh and his _new_ best friend are off in a corner somewhere doin' the nasty. And if you don't believe it, it's no wonder he calls you a dipstick behind your back."

"He doesn't call me a dipstick," Alan said, his voice faltering.

Yeah, right! They say there's a sucker born every day. Happy Birthday, Sucker."

The Lycorian laughed, the insulting laughter bouncing around the crevasses inside Alan's mind. He shook his head, trying to get it out.

"You're just trying to get in my head!" Alan called out.

"I'm not trying. I'm already there. By the way, smooth move pouring out the enchanted water and replacing it with pool water. That stuff could've done some serious damage to my baby soft skin."

"I... didn't dump it out... Did I?" The question was like a pin prick, scratching at Alan's thoughts, and as much as he tried to dismiss it, he couldn't.

"Josh nearly caught us when he walked up on you sitting by the pool with the two bottles. Close call."

"I didn't dump out the enchanted water," he uttered, defensively, yet he wasn't sure. A part of him remembered pouring the water into the plants. Or was that just a Lycorian mind trick?

"Just remove _one_ band. I can take care of the rest. No one will ever know. Okay, Pal?"

The Lycorian again gazed down at the slowly parting gymnasium floor.

### Chapter Thirty

"Fun-keee," Lara said, fanning her nose, as we entered the booth.

"Sorry. The geek squad is a bunch of guys."

"Don't they ever shower?" she asked.

"Umm... one of them does," I said.

That brought a smile to her face.

"Lara, I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you that day in the meadow."

She was eying me with the sweetest, heart melting look in her eyes. "I know you are," she said. "I knew you didn't mean it, but that didn't stop it from hurting."

I located the key, placed it in the lock and turned it. The gym floor responded, starting it's slow but steady opening process.

After the floor started opening, I turned to Lara. "I'm kind of embarrassed to say this, but I wanted to hurt you."

Upon hearing my words, she winced as if in pain. "Why?" she whispered.

"I don't know. I was hurting so much that day, I wanted to spread it around, I guess. I know that doesn't make it better, but that's the truth."

She stared at me for several moments, willing the tears not to fall. "You do understand why we can't be together, don't you? That kiss we shared earlier, if we'd shared it in a more intimate setting, it could have ended your freedom."

"I know," I said, my voice soft, and tinged with embarrassment. "You're right to be protective of my freedom, and I love you for it."

"Oh, please!" she said, a sudden, mischievous smile forming on her lips. "You've got to come up with a better apology than that."

"What?"

"You've always loved me," she said, and I realized she was teasing me.

I grinned back at her as the tension between us began melting away. "That is true. I have always loved you, even when I didn't know it," I said, my own smile now shining through.

It was then I realized the background music playing in my mind wasn't sad anymore.

"The song I said," pointing to my head. "Can you hear it?"

She nodded, her smile widening. "It's no longer sad," she said.

"It must know something I don't."

"It knows the worst is behind us. You're not going to die," she said.

We stood there, grinning at each other for several moments. I again wanted to take her into my arms, but I knew I had a job to do. I looked through the Plexiglas window, down onto the gymnasium floor, and could see that Alan was talking to someone.

"Who's he talking to?" I wondered out loud. I leaned forward toward the window, getting a better view of the gym below. No one else was there.

"I suspect the Lycorian is communicating with him telepathically, and he's responding," said Lara.

"What's he doing now?" I said, alarm creeping in.

The floor had opened three feet across the entire surface of the gymnasium. The magnificent pool beneath the floor was slowly being revealed. As the floor peeled away, it was becoming more difficult for Alan to reach the creature who was dangling over the pool, and yet he strained to reach him. He stood on his toes, and reached across the breach in the floor up to the netting, where he began fiddling with one of the bands on the creature's claw.

"It looks as if he's trying to release him," Lara said.

"No, Alan!" I cried out. I began pounding on the Plexiglas window. "Alan, stop!" I called. The sound of my pounding on the Plexiglas reverberated throughout the tiny booth, shaking the walls, but he didn't look up. I stopped pounding on the window, and sprinted from the booth.

"Alan!" I hollered as I arrived back in the gym. I was breathless and wild-eyed.

Alan stopped what he was doing and faced me. His eyes were glassy. There was a far-away look in them.

"What are you doing?" I called out.

He shook his head, and I could see the fog lifting. "I'm watching the creature, Dipstick. What do you think I'm doing?"

I gazed past him to the creature suspended in the air, and could see he'd worked one of the bands free from his claw, and was starting to slice through the net.

"Conner, release him now!" I cried out, hoping Conner could still hear me.

The creature had carved a hole in the net. His free claw was pushing through.

"What's the matter with you?" Alan asked.

"The creature is escaping!" I called, pointing.

Just then, the net released, and the creature went plunging into the swimming pool.

The floor gym continued to open.

"Get a grip man," Alan said. "It's all good." He offered up a smile.

"You released one of his bands, Dude."

"No, I didn't," Alan replied, yet the moment I spoke, his smile began to fade. He turned to the pool, moved to the edge of the parting gym floor and peered in. "He's struggling down there," he said. He turned back to me. His smile was returning. "He's secure. Our part is finished. Where are the two satyrs?"

"They're on their way," I said. I was trying to relax, but I couldn't. I had the sinking feeling our plan was heading south.

"Relax. Stop looking so worried. The Legion of Doom has saved the day," Alan said, and laughed light heartedly. "Didn't they have a handshake?" he suddenly asked.

"Who?"

Just then, the creature's claw emerged from the pool and latched onto the coattails of Alan's duster.

"What the..."

Before he could turn and see what had gotten hold of him, the creature gave a powerful tug on the tail of his coat. Alan took two teetering steps backwards, then toppled over and through the parting gym floor. He fell into the pool, disappearing beneath the surface of the water.

I ran to the edge of the still parting gym floor and peered wild-eyed down into the churning waters. "Alan!" I cried out.

Something was wrong. I could see Alan struggling in the water, but I couldn't see the creature. "The enchantment isn't working," I mumbled.

Alan was thrashing about. He peered up to the surface, the bright beams of the high gymnasium ceiling lights reflecting off of his eyes. The fear of death was in them. One moment my friend was patting himself on the back over our heroics, and the next, he was in the clutches of a creature, wondering if he was going to die.

Blood began spilling into the water from a wound I couldn't see. It came suddenly, and yet there was so much of it. It clouded the water of the pool, and I lost sight of my struggling friend.

A grouping of air bubbles rose to the surface. As the bubbles burst, the smell of death wafted up from the pool and into the air. I'd never smelled death before, but I knew the odor, foul and ancient, and filled with fear.

I looked around for help, but Petros and Rive still hadn't arrived. I was alone. I looked up into the booth, but Lara was no longer there.

"Someone! Help!" I cried out, my cry drifting up to the high gym ceiling. Like hot air from a big balloon it dissipated in the atmosphere, a fruitless effort. No help. No one to save my friend.

I kicked off my shoes, sucked in a lungful of air, and dove through the parted gym floor.

There was no decision to dive into the pool. I did it without thinking. One moment I was standing on the edge of the gym floor, peering into the murky waters, and then, I was in.

I kicked down toward the commotion in the deep. The water was cold, even for a hot summer's night, and I felt a shiver ripple my belly.

The weight of my water logged clothing dragged against the buoyancy of the water, preventing me from going down. I kicked harder, pointed my head like a projectile, and I finally got moving.

I didn't see the creature, but I could feel pressure from the churn of struggle beneath me, and after a while I saw the eyes, just as I'd seen them skulking in the drain of Alan's backyard pool. They were emerald green, and they were angry.

I swam toward the angry eyes, and my struggling friend came into view. I arrived, and latched onto the claw that was clinging to his side. The claw was hard like a conch shell. I wrapped both my hands around the pincer, and yanked on it with all my might, expelling a tiny bit of air as I did. After several moments of struggle, the claw reluctantly released, and I was able to pull Alan free.

I corralled him in my arms, spun him around, and pushed him up toward the surface. He began rising slowly like a figure in an underwater dream sequence. He wasn't swimming. There were no arm movements, no leg kicks. Still, he was rising, a foot or so every few moments, getting closer to the surface.

_Swim,_ I thought. _Swim, dammit!_

Something latched onto my ankle from below.

I peered down and could see the creature in all his hideousness, pulling me into the depths of the pool. I tried to kick, but all that got me was searing pain in my right ankle. Fresh blood appeared in the water.

Mine, no doubt.

The creature continued pulling me down, trying to drown me. The pressure of the water pressed against my chest. I needed to get free. I needed to get to the surface. **I needed to breathe.**

The worst is behind us. You're not going to die.

Lara's words erupted in my mind as I realized there was no song playing. No music in my mind. Not happy, not sad, not nothing.

My lungs were starting to burn. The breath I'd been clinging to was turning stagnant. Now more than ever, I needed to breathe.

I kicked at the creature with my free leg. He ignored the kick, maintaining his grasp on my ankle, and more blood spewed forth. He yanked me down.

Ohmygod...Ohmygod... Ohmygod!

I need air. I need air, and I need it NOW. My lungs were on fire, no, worse than fire. I felt as though I was being scorched alive with molten lava from the inside. I had to let something in—air, water, anything to stop this incredible pain.

Just then, something exploded into the water above me. Someone had dove into the pool, and was knifing through the water toward me.

_Sorry. Too late_ , I thought.

I opened my mouth, and breathed in. My breath hitched, and my eyes snapped open as if I'd been punched in the chest with a thousand volts of electricity. If I thought I was in pain before, the pain I felt earlier was nothing compared to the pain of my lungs filling with the one substance that was never, ever allowed inside—water.

### Chapter Thirty-One

_Cough, cough, cough... Cough, cough_.

My lungs were burning.

I opened my eyes. Petros was staring down at me, his face awash with concern.

"Please don't tell me you gave me mouth-to-mouth," I said, sputtering up a lungful of pool water. _Cough, cough_.

"Okay, I won't. But somebody had to, and I don't believe you wanted it from your friend over there."

I glanced in the direction of his gaze. Alan was seated on the gym floor throwing up his guts. Rive was standing over him.

I gazed back at Petros. "You're right about that," I said, prompting a smile. "Thanks for saving my life."

"I didn't save you. We got here too late. Lara did."

I gazed back over in the direction of Rive and Alan, looking for her. Alan had stopped puking and was sitting up breathing deeply. I gazed in the opposite direction toward the partially open gym floor.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"Josh, you need to take it easy for a few minutes."

Not the answer I was looking for.

"I need to know where Lara is!"

I bolted upright, and a wave of dizziness erupted in my head. Everything went wonky. It was as if I'd suddenly lost my sea legs. I felt bile rising up my throat. I gazed frantically around the gym.

No Lara.

"Josh, are you alright?" Petros asked. Try as I might to stay upright, I was slumping back down to the floor.

"No, I'm not all right," I said, my word slurring. "Where's Lara?"

"The creature..." he said, his words trailing off.

"You mean, she's d...dead?"

"No. Not yet, at least. The creature took her hostage. If our guess is right, he's on his way back to the sea."

"Where were you?" I screamed. "You were supposed to be here. This is all _your_ fault." I struggled myself to an upright position and took a swing at him. He easily side-stepped my swing, and I fell over, nearly face-planting on the gym floor.

"Josh, it's not over yet. She's the Countesses' daughter. I promise you, this is not over. Laertes is taking Lara back to his people at the sea, and we will stop him before he gets there."

"All your fault," I mumbled as I lay, my face resting against the gym floor. It was cool, and soothing. "You and him," I slurred, pointing toward Rive.

"You're right. It is my fault. _All_ my fault. But we will save her," Petros said. I thought I heard his voice cracking. I wasn't sure. I didn't care.

I dragged myself up from the floor. It took all my strength, but I got to a standing position and shambled across the gym to Alan.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked as I arrived. He looked horrible. Wait. I'm sure I looked horrible, too.

"You saved my life, bro," he said. He gazed up into my eyes, and I could tell he was embarrassed. "Thanks."

"No problem," I said, and forced a smile for his sake. "Legion of Doom, right?"

The comment had the desired effect, and brought a smile to his face, although it was a cautious one.

"They had a handshake," he said.

"I don't know. Did they?"

"They did. It was a really neat handshake. I think it went something like this."

"Alan, stop. You're geeking out." My faculties were returning. I needed to push on.

"Oh. Right," he said, gazing over at the two satyrs. "Where's Lara?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. The creature's got her. I have to save her."

Alan sat silent for a moment. He took in a deep breath and let it out quickly. "Okay. Let's go."

"You don't have to come along. She's my girl. You've done your part. The creature is out of your pool. Alexia and her mother are safe. Go home and be with your girl."

"Naw, Dude. We're in this together. The Legion of Doom, remember?"

He stared into my eyes, and all the fear and trepidation I expected to find in his wasn't there. I'd given him the perfect excuse to bail, and he didn't take it. Regardless, I considered Alan a liability.

"It's all right, Alan. I got this."

"It's not all right!" he said, his voice getting emotional. "Every chance I've had to prove myself, I've failed. And worse than failing Alexia, I've failed you. You're my best friend, you know that, right?"

"Yeah. I do."

"Then let's go dancing with the beast in the moonlight, and get your girl back."

"What?" I said, releasing a coughing laugh that made my lungs ache.

"I sounded like an action hero just then, didn't I?"

"You sounded like a dipstick," I said, and he cracked a smile.

"I was never that good at the smooth lines. Truth is, I've never been good at much of anything. But I _am_ good at being your friend, your _best_ friend. I'm excellent at that. I won't let you down this time. Promise."

I gazed into his eyes, and saw a determination in them I'd never seen before. It softened me. "The Legion of Doom," I said. "Let's go moondancing."

I pulled Alan to his feet, and together we dragged back over to Petros and Rive.

"We're going with you," I said when we arrived.

Rive peered at two bedraggled teenage boys, and then over at Petros. "I'm sorry, but there's no way—"

Petros stopped him by planting a firm hand on Rive's shoulder. "It's all right," he said.

Rive gaped at Petros, blinking wildly for a moment before his eyes moved back to me. "Laertes is travelling through the storm drains beneath the city. Lara's injured him, so he can't move quickly. He will emerge from underground at Ballona Creek before continuing his walk to the sea. We have to get to Ballona Creek before he does."

"Okay. Let's do it," I said.

Rive heaved a deep sigh, again eying Petros nervously. "We need to move quickly, and you two will slow us down."

"We're going!" I said. "Figure it out."

"But if we have to carry you, we may arrive too late," Rive implored.

"We're going!" I said, raising my voice.

"Rive is right, Josh. If we have to carry you, we may arrive too late to save Lara." Petros fixed me with a firm gaze. "You don't want that."

"Then don't carry us!" I said, the words scorching up my throat. "We don't need you. We got this. Alan and me, we're the Legion of Doom. We'll get there on our own," I said, puffing myself up with fake bravado like a preening peacock.

"We have to go now. Getting to the creek before Laertes is imperative," said Rive.

"So, go! Just tell us where to meet you, and we'll be there."

Rive again looked between me and Petros before telling us the street address of where the storm drain emptied into Ballona Creek.

"Trust me, Josh. We will save her," Petros said.

"See, that's the thing. I don't trust you. _We_ will save her," I said.

The two satyrs shared another quick look before trotting over to the gym's double doors.

"We will save her," Petros said definitively, shooting me a last glance, and then they headed off. The sound of their galloping hooves retreated down the hall. The outer door opened and banged shut, and they were gone.

I peered over at Alan who was staring at me, his eyes eager. "So, what's the plan?"

I shook my head, my shoulders slumping as the confidence I'd displayed moments earlier fled like a thief in the night. "I have no idea."

Alan and I exited the gym, consumed in a cloud of despair. We stepped out into the parking lot. A soft breeze stroked my face. The cool fresh air felt good after being in the stiflingly hot gym for so long.

I still hadn't come up with a plan. I considered that we could uber to Ballona Creek, but both of our phones had been destroyed in the pool, so that wouldn't work.

_Honk, honk_.

The headlights of a car across the parking lot flashed at us, two tiny beacons winking in the night.

"Uh-oh. We've been spotted," said Alan. He turned sharply to the left, and started walking away.

"We need a ride," I said, and began dragging toward the car.

"But that's the security patrol," Alan called. "We go to him, we're busted. Remember what you said about wanting to graduate without a criminal record?"

"We need a ride!" I called back, over my shoulder. "You have a better idea?"

Alan didn't respond, so I guess he didn't. As I dragged toward the car, I realized that I recognized it—a black Mustang convertible sitting in the shadows.

The bitches on wheels.

"It's Conner," I called. I spotted our friend behind the wheel of the Mustang, grinning back. Never before had there ever been a more welcome sight.

Earlier, when Conner released the net, dumping the creature into the pool, he assumed our mission was complete. As far as he was concerned, we three had accomplished something we couldn't share with anyone but ourselves, and Conner felt we needed to celebrate. So he hightailed it home, and "borrowed" his sister, Sara's, car to take us on a celebratory joyride around Beverly Hills, leaving campus _before_ any of the creature excitement began.

As it turned out, there would be no celebration. Not yet, anyway. Maybe after we rescued Lara from the creature. Maybe.

We piled into the Mustang and headed for Ballona Creek.

"Nice car," Alan said as he lay down on the back seat.

"Feel free to bleed all over the upholstery," Conner said.

That got a laugh out of both of us.

As the car travelled toward Venice, the pain in my shredded ankle became more evident. Every bump we hit, or steep turn we made, the ankle throbbed with an agony that rocketed up my leg, through my body, exploding in my brain into a million tiny embers of red hot hurt.

Alan wasn't complaining, but I imagine his side, that had been ravaged by the creature's claw was aching at least as much as my ankle.

The anguish in my ankle however, was nothing compared to the ache in my heart.

Lara had sacrificed her life to save mine.

She was willing to give her life for me even as she refused to give her heart to me. I didn't want to admit it, but I had the feeling it was too late for us. The music in my mind had ceased to play. No music indicated the worst, that one of us was going to die... had died.

I was hoping that I was wrong, that we'd arrive at Ballona Creek and save Lara from the creature in time. I didn't believe it, though. I propped myself up with false hope, but I did not believe we'd save her.

"We're here."

Conner's voice snatched me from my dismal thoughts.

"Okay, thanks," I said. Fear churned my belly, for I knew the moment of truth was at hand.

We exited the car in an affluent neighborhood on a street lined with Cape Cod style homes. The smell of the ocean was in the air. There was a path that ran alongside the homes. The path wound down to Ballona Creek.

The creek was a watershed area the government had declared off limits for the Southern California builders who seemed to have snatched up every bit of open space to erect new condominiums. It was an area of the city whose natural, rustic beauty had been preserved.

All the storm drains that sucked up the rain water of Beverly Hills emptied out into a lovely canal, a marshland complete with ducks and geese, and all sorts of aquatic birds, as well as a variety of exotic plants and flowers.

We left Conner at the car and proceeded along the path, and down to the creek. A quarter of a mile down the waterway we saw the opening. It was a concrete tunnel forty feet in height. This was where the water flowed from the city's storm drains into Ballona creek, from the creek to the sea. This was where the creature would emerge, hopefully, with Lara still alive in his arms.

"Down there," I said pointing to the storm drain opening. Alan nodded solemnly. We exited the path, and moved through tall grass and down an embankment. We waded into the creek, and began trudging toward the drain pipe opening.

I realized as we waded into knee-deep water that I hadn't retrieved my tennis shoes. They were still on the gym floor. I was in my stocking feet.

"We beat them here," Alan said. There was a sense of pride in his voice.

I gazed around. There was open space all around us, and not a soul to be seen in the tall grass leading down to the creek, or on the bridge above the tall drain pipe. There was no sign of Petros or Rive anywhere.

"You think we came to the right place?" I asked.

"Yes. This is it. Don't worry. We don't need them. I got this," he said.

Right.

As we continued moving in the shallows toward the drain, the fear in my belly rose into my chest making it harder and harder to breathe with each step. _She's not dead_ , I said in my mind. _We will rescue her_ , I said. The thoughts offered no comfort. I didn't believe one word.

My footsteps slowed.

"Are you all right?" Alan asked.

"My ankle," I lied.

"I got this," he said, and splashed on ahead of me.

I had no idea what he thought he could accomplish with a few throwing stars, but I knew in my heart I couldn't lose both Lara _and_ Alan. I quickened my pace, catching up to him. Shoulder-to-shoulder, we approached the drain.

As we neared the darkened opening, a sloshing could be heard coming toward us from within. We stopped ten feet in front of the opening of the drainpipe and listened as the churning grew louder. The creature was coming.

### Chapter Thirty-Two

I peered over at Alan, wondering if this time I'd see the petrified look in his eyes I'd seen at Great Aunt Winsome's. He was peering into the darkened tunnel, oblivious that my eyes were on him. He seemed anxious to do battle.

The sloshing sounds from within were now just beyond the opening. The fear that had worked its way into my chest earlier now bubbled up my throat, and I thought I might lose my guts as we stood there waiting.

I realized then, I didn't have a plan. Snatch Lara from the creature's arms as he emerged and run? That was it. I wished we'd come up with something better, but I was so consumed I didn't take the time to plan our next move.

The creature emerged from the drain. He was slick with wetness, a shiny, horrid monster, glinting in the moonlight. Green slime oozed from scratches on his face and arms. I realized the green slime was the creature's blood caused by the damage Lara had done to him. Speaking of Lara, she lay limp in his arms, and I couldn't help but wonder if we were too late.

"Lara! Over here," I called, and she stirred, her head shifting ever so slightly in my direction.

My heart jolted in my chest when she moved, and adrenaline flooded my veins. The weight that had been clogging my chest vanished upon seeing she was still alive. I breathed in, my lungs finally filling with air.

Seeing us, the creature raised a claw and snapped it at me.

Rive dropped down, as if from the heavens, onto the creature's back. We had no idea he was there. He'd been crouching, unseen, in the shadows on the bridge above the drainpipe, waiting for his chance. He clutched a syringe in his hand, and swung it toward the creature's shoulder blade.

The creature released Lara, dropping her in the shallows, as he shifted and bucked in an attempt to throw Rive from his back, while keeping him from driving the needle home.

As they struggled, I rushed to Lara, picked her up out of the shallow creek, and carried her dripping body to the nearest shoreline. I set her gently onto the gravelly shore. Her eyes were closed, but her chest was gently rising.

"Lara. Lara!" I cried out, a gentle whisper. "I'm here."

Her eyes fluttered open. "You came for me," she said in a breath so shallow I almost didn't hear her.

"Of course I came for you. I'd go to hell to get you back," I said, and crushed her against my chest.

"Was I wrong to deny us the chance to be together?"

"Don't talk now. You're safe, that's all that matters." I planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, and realized her cheek was wet, not with creek water, but with my own joyful tears.

"As the Lycorian was carrying me to what I was certain would be my death, all I could think was how foolish I'd been to deny us a chance at happiness. No one should deny true love."

She was weak, and each word was a chore to come by. "Don't talk," I repeated.

Meanwhile, Rive was riding the creature for all he was worth, trying his best to drive the needle home. It had to be a sedative, meant to slow the creature down, but he was having no luck administering it.

The creature reached over its shoulder, and pulled him off its back, tossing him aside as if he were a child's toy.

Then the creature vanished before my eyes.

As I wondered where he disappeared to, he reappeared right in front of me.

"There is a price for lies!" The creature's words exploded in my mind, and before I could shield Lara, he lashed out toward her chest. I thought he missed her, but suddenly blood was everywhere, spurting from her chest as if from a geyser.

He was about to reach for her again when a spear slammed into his shoulder, knocking him backwards.

"I'm not your pal!" These words were from Alan.

I looked over, stunned to see Alan aiming the spear gun at the creature's chest. He must have had the spear gun concealed beneath the long duster all along.

"You wanna mess with someone? Mess with me!" He fired a second shot, but the creature again disappeared, this time reappearing by his side.

The spear gun went flying from his hands as the creature lashed out at him with one vicious swipe.

Alan collapsed to his knees, his eyes going wide. They were filled with childlike wonder as if he'd just been given a free trip to Disneyworld. Blood began seeping from a neat slice across the base of his throat. He looked over at me, opened his mouth to speak, only to spew up a mouthful of blood.

This cannot be happening.

I looked down at Lara in my arms. Her eyes were once again closed, her chest lay still. She was growing cold. She seemed like a beautiful child, drifting off to sleep. But I knew better.

I looked away, and saw both Petros and Rive standing in the creek bed, the horror of Lara's death frozen on both their faces.

The creature had departed while I wasn't looking. He'd done his damage. He had taken two lives in payment for the promise Petros had made to him, and was returning to the sea with some small form of victory.

Alan kneeled a few feet from me, the blood stain on the front of his duster growing rapidly as his life drained away into the creek. He struggled to hold himself upright. It was as if he knew holding himself up was the only way he could keep himself alive. His eyes were still on me, but I knew with a certainty that he was no longer seeing me; he was looking into the afterlife.

"Thanks, fellas," I called over to Petros and Rive. The words, filled with rage, scorched up my throat. "Thanks a lot!"

As tears began streaming down my face, I heard a distant roar moving toward us. It sounded like a fast approaching locomotive, or a hurricane.

A wind whipped up in the tiny creek, stirring the water and tossing debris into the air. The wind and the sound increased in magnitude, and then, something came into view. It was a ten foot tidal wave, pushing toward us up the canal.

The swirling wind grew to gale force intensity as the wave drew nearer. I struggled to keep my balance in the storm.

Eudora Applegate came into view, riding the wave that was coming toward us. It was a vibrantly colorful wave, and as it got closer, Eudora Applegate struck a regal pose riding in on a tidal wave of butterflies.

"My daughter," she screamed over the tumultuous sound of a million butterfly wings. "Petros, get my daughter."

Petros moved to me, and gently removed Lara from my arms.

The wave stopped moving ten feet from me. It floated there, above the creek, a gorgeous kaleidoscope of color. Eudora, dressed all in white, stepped from atop the wave, and was transported down to the surface of the water on a magic carpet of butterflies.

She hovered above the surface of the water, surveying the area.

"Petros, take Lara to the hoarfrost baths at once," she commanded.

"Yes, Countess," he replied.

"I don't know what that is, but it's too late. She's dead," I called to her. "Because of all of you, she's _dead_ ," I said, casting my indicting gaze on each of them, one at a time.

Eudora eyed me, and her gaze softened. "It's not too late for the hoarfrost baths to save her, Josh. They are enchanted. As long as there's a spark of life left in Lara's body, the baths will bring her back." She turned to Petros. "Be gone, Petros. Now! Or should we wait until that spark of life has drained away?"

Without another word, Petros secured Lara in his arms. In moments he was on the shore, galloping up the embankment. He moved across the bridge, and out of sight at a dead run.

Eudora again briefly surveyed the area with distaste. "Take me away from this place," she commanded, and the butterfly carpet began to rise.

"Wait!" I cried out. "Alan is still alive. Take him to the hoarfrost baths, too."

My friend was now seated in the shallow water. He continued struggling to hold himself upright. A thick, ugly bloodstain widened on the chest of the duster. I sensed he'd fall over any minute, and once that happened, it would be the end for him.

"Your friend is not my concern," Eudora said, eyeing him as if she were eying the trash.

"I know, but he's my _friend_ , and he's bleeding out. I won't be able to get him to a hospital in time to save him. You must! Please!"

She looked at me curiously. "Why should I?"

"Because you can."

"That is not reason enough for me. I am not of your world. Your world would not raise a finger to save me or my kind." She signaled with her hands, and the butterfly carpet began to rise.

"Wait!" I called even louder. "How bout we make a deal?"

"A deal?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "You have nothing I would want." The carpet again stopped its ascent.

"You want me to be with your daughter, my soulmate. Save my friend, and I will do it. I will become her slave."

"That's very generous of you, Josh, but it's an empty promise. My daughter does not want to be with you."

"That _was_ true, but after tonight, I believe things have changed."

"That's not much of an assurance."

I gazed over at Alan who was about to topple over into the creek.

"We love each other. You know we do. She didn't want to be with me because she was trying to protect me, but I can get her to come around. I'm yours. Just save my friend. _Please_ ," I pleaded, my voice cracking.

She gazed at me for several moments that seemed to stretch on forever. As each moment passed, I could feel my friend's life draining away.

"I'm yours. I'll do anything."

"Rive," she called, practically cutting me off. "Take the young man to the hoarfrost baths, and be quick about it. We don't want to lose him."

"Yes, Countess."

Rive hauled my friend's lifeless body up from out of the creek. Blood and water ran freely down the hem of Alan's duster. Rive galloped away, following the same path as Petros, up the embankment, across the bridge, and out of sight.

"Thank you," I breathed.

"You do realize you've given me your word?" Eudora said with a hint of skepticism.

"Yes. And you have it. You won't regret this. I promise."

"I'm sure. My home is your home," she said with an air of indifference, and with that, the butterfly carpet lifted her up to the crest of the wave where she was carted off.

I stood silent and still, knee deep in creek water for several minutes. My heart pounded in my chest. My breathing came in short, ragged bursts. Once the wave had departed, the gentle sound of the creek flowing to the sea began to relax me, and my heartbeat slowed. My breathing returned to normal.

Both Lara and my friend had died, at least, in my eyes they had. I wondered how much of a spark of life was needed for the hoarfrost bath to work its magic. I didn't want to think about either of them not making it, and so I told myself I needed to get up to the fortress to be there when they opened their eyes.

I dragged over to the shore, and as I stepped out of the water, I again realized I didn't have any shoes. I wondered if Conner would drive me up to the Applegate fortress. He'd done enough already, but perhaps he'd do this one last favor.

As I began moving up the slope toward the path, I spotted a carpet of butterflies hovering alongside the trail up ahead. _For me?_ I wondered. I hoped so.

### Chapter Thirty-Three

Asia and Rive were seated on a claw foot settee in the downstairs parlor when I came in. They were huddled close together in silence, holding each other's hands. The eyes of Terence Applegate in the portrait above the mantle seemed to be watching over them.

"Come. Sit with us," Asia called when I walked in. She seemed genuinely happy to see me.

I moved to the claw foot chair across from them, and sat.

"How are they?" I asked.

"We've heard nothing so far," Asia said, giving Rive's hands a gentle squeeze. "But we're confident. In my lifetime, the hoarfrost baths have never failed."

"Good to know," I said. I have to admit, Asia's words gave me a spark of hope. "What exactly is a hoarfrost bath?" The question had been bubbling near the surface of my consciousness since I'd first heard the words. I would never have asked Eudora, and risked looking like a fool in front of her. Now seemed the perfect time.

Asia smiled over at me. It was soul scorching smile, very much like one Alexia might use to get what she wanted, but Asia's smile was warm and inviting. There was nothing manipulative about it.

"Come," she said. "Sit with me." She kissed Rive sweetly on the lips, and he rose to make room for me on the settee.

"I'll go check on Lara," he said.

"That would be darling of you," Asia replied. They exchanged a loving glance, and Rive left.

I knew that Rive was not Asia's one true love. He was the victim of Nianis, an enchantment used to make him fall in love with her and become her slave, and yet, on the surface, their affection for one another seemed genuine.

I settled into Rive's spot on the settee, and Asia took both my hands in hers.

"You are aware that the water from the hot spring is enchanted?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Good, good. The enchanted water of the spring has incredible healing properties. The hoarfrost bath takes full advantage of those properties."

"How?" I asked, urging her to go on.

"When a person is dying, every cell in their body begins to perish. A person will die long before all of their cells do. The dying cells are the first symptom of impending death.

"When the body senses a person's cells are dying, the body's natural healing abilities kick in. Living cells rush into reproduction creating new cells to replace the dying ones. It's the same thing that happens when you're sick or wounded," she said. She stopped talking and peered into my eyes. "Are you following along?"

"Yes, yes. Please, go on."

"Living cells work overtime to make new cells to replace the dying. That repair system works quite well when a person is sick because the cells are perishing slowly enough to allow new cells to be created to replace them."

"But when a person is dying, the cells are perishing too quickly for the body to replace them," I said.

Asia smiled her warm smile. "Exactly," she said. "You're an excellent student. I bet you get all A's in school."

"No, not exactly," I replied with a self-deprecating laugh.

"Well, you should. You're a smart boy," she said, and squeezed my hands. "When a Nereid or one of our friends are dying, they are placed in a metal bath tub of enchanted water and flash frozen to thirty-one degrees Fahrenheit. That is one degree below freezing. The freezing of the body halts the continued death of the cells. Death is suspended." She smiled. "Then the enchanted water begins to mend the damaged cells while they are frozen."

"Sort of like, healing them in their sleep."

"Yes, yes, exactly. Smart boy," she added, and smiled again. "The cells are regenerated while the subject is asleep. The dead cells are all replaced with new, healthy, living cells. Then the body is slowly thawed, allowing the body's natural healing abilities to finish the job. The natural healing along with the enchanted water, allows a nearly dead person to come back to life. Good as new."

"That's amazing," I said.

"It is one of the great wonders of our world," she replied.

"And it always works?"

"Always. Although there have been occasions..." Her words trailed off.

"Occasions?"

"Yes. There have been occasions when a subject awakens, and they are different."

That stopped me.

"Different? Different how?"

"Don't worry about it, Josh. It's rare, and inconsequential."

"Rare or not, I'd still like to know," I said.

"Asia, Lara is out of the bath."

Rive had returned to the room. He was gazing excitedly at his paramour as he delivered the good news.

I jumped to my feet. "Where is she?" I demanded, my skin suddenly tingling. It was as if my own cells had died and come back to life, goods as new.

"She's fine Josh. She's in her room, resting," Rive said in a reassuring tone.

"What about Alan?"

"Not yet. He lost a lot more blood than Lara did. His healing will take longer."

Asia squeezed my hands again. "Go to her. I will send someone up to let you know when your friend's healing is complete."

"Thank you." I said, squeezing back. "Thank you!" I called to Rive.

They were both smiling at me as I sprinted from the room.

The bedding and wallpaper were pink. Framed and unframed poems and snatches of poetry hand scrawled on torn off pieces of loose leaf paper adorned the walls. A few dozen pink pillows of different shapes and sizes that had once been on the bed were now taking up residence on the chaise lounge across the room.

Lara was lying in bed, sleeping soundly. A large pink and black stuffed giraffe stood at the foot of the bed, a trusted sentry.

The room was quiet, and still. No one else was present. There wasn't a sound aside from that of her gentle breathing. I moved bedside just to make sure my ears weren't deceiving me.

I was again reminded of a sleeping child, but unlike in Ballona Creek, her chest was rising and falling steadily, and I knew this child would soon awaken, and when she did, I planned to take her in my arms and never let go.

I'd learned so much about myself over the past few days. I was a different person than I was when summer began. I was days away from my sixteenth birthday, and I realized turning sixteen would be very different from when I turned fourteen or fifteen. I'd seen things, horrible things. I'd seen death, and that changes a person.

Lara," I said softly. When she didn't stir, I whispered: "I love you. I've loved you all my life even though I didn't know it. But I do now, and I'm not going to let you reject me anymore."

I kissed her lips. They were still cold and quite hard from her time in the hoarfrost bath.

Lara continued resting peacefully with no knowledge of my presence. I stared at her beautiful face for a while, then I moved to the lounge across the room, threw all but one of the pink pillows to the floor, and stretched out. My body ached from an evening filled with ordeal. My ankle was bloody and swollen. I knew I should tend to my own wounds, but they could wait. I wanted to be the first thing Lara saw when she opened her eyes.

As soon as I lay down, my eyelids grew heavy. I decided to close my eyes for just a moment, and fell fast asleep.

I was awakened by the sound of a tolling bell.

It was as if a church bell was going off inside the Applegate fortress. My eyes snapped open to the incessant _bong... bong... bong._

"What is that?" I grumbled, as the deafening sound dragged me from my sleep.

I looked over at Lara on the bed. She, too, was beginning to stir. She propped herself up on an elbow and began taking in her surroundings. At first she seemed not to recognize where she was, but slowly her familiarity with the room appeared in her eyes.

Eventually, her eyes found me on the lounge across the room.

"Hi," I said, smiling over at her. "You guys have an awful loud dinner bell," I said in a teasing tone.

I was expecting a laugh, or even a smile, but

instead her face filled with alarm.

"Oh, God, Joshua! What are you doing here?"

"I came to be with you."

"What did you do?" She bolted upright in bed.

"Nothing." I got up and moved bedside where she could hear me better. "What's the matter? What's with the bell?"

"You had to have done something, Joshua."

This was not the reaction I was hoping for.

"I... didn't. I swear. Why? What's the matter?"

"That bell—it never rings," she said. "That bell hasn't rung in eight years. _Send not to know for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee_."

### Chapter Thirty-Four

It took several minutes to explain to her the trade I'd made to save Alan's life. As I spoke, her eyes clouded with concern.

"I told you to beware of my mother, Joshua. Remember me telling you she was the real creature?"

"Yes! So?"

"My mother would not trade your servitude for my happiness. I'm sure she loves me in her own way, but she would never make that trade."

"Well... she did."

"Tell me exactly what you said. Did you say _I will do anything?"_

"No. I agreed to be with you. That was the trade, to be with you for Alan's life."

"Did you say _I will be your slave?"_

"No, of course not. I did say _I'm yours_."

"Oh, Joshua," she said, her face falling to pieces.

The tolling bell stopped, and now I heard new sounds. The house seemed to be waking up. Happy voices could be heard gathering downstairs.

"But I meant I was _hers_ because she wanted me to be with you. She knows that."

Lara was shaking her head rapidly back and forth. "You've given her your servitude, and now Petros is free, free to be her lover. It's what she's hoped for all along, to finally have him back."

"But that's not what I meant, and she knows it."

"I know. You were being sweet, and kind, and generous. And now you are her slave."

"Uh-uh!" I said. "No way!" I said. "She's not getting away with this."

I rose from the bed and stormed from the room. Once in the corridor, the voices came to me more clearly, the joyful chatter of young girls.

I moved down the sweeping staircase, taking the steps two at a time, heading toward the sound of the voices. With each step I could feel my anger rising as my pulse throbbed in my ears.

I was practically seeing red as I entered the grand corridor. A harpsichord began to play. It was the song that had once played in my head, the song that had brought Lara and me together. I knew it well. The siren's song.

I continued down the corridor toward the sound of the music, my pace, along with my heartbeat, quickening. I entered a grand ballroom, and stopped in the doorway. I had walked in on a celebration.

A satyr I didn't recognize was playing the harpsichord in the corner, while beautiful water nymphs flocked toward the center of the ballroom floor. They were cheering and chanting good wishes. When they spotted me, they began to applaud.

"That's him. That's Josh."

I started working my way through the crowd toward the open space on the dance floor, certain I would find who I was looking for there. I pushed past the last water nymph, and stepped out onto the open floor.

Eudora was dancing in the arms of the satyr, Petros, who was now dressed in tails. Eudora was also elegantly dressed in a beautiful ice blue fifties-styled gown. When she saw me, she stopped dancing, and smiled.

"Look, everyone. The newest member of our little family has arrived."

The music stopped. The applause grew louder.

"You tricked me!" I cried out. I stepped toward her, and Petros, moved in front of her. He flashed his eyes, stopping me.

"I agreed to be with Lara. _That_ was my deal," I called, trying to peer around him.

Eudora eyed me with a smug, self-satisfied smirk. "That was not _our_ deal. Our deal is that you are mine. Your exact words: _I'm yours_. I accepted your words, and upon that acceptance, I saved your friend's life."

"You knew what I meant," I bellowed.

Petros took a menacing step toward me.

"It's all right, dear," Eudora said. She placed a hand on his shoulder, calming him. He nodded, and seemed to relax. "Once you're here with us, you will get to see Lara every day. That's what you wanted, isn't it? And Josh, your father's business will flourish. I will see to it. Your family will become rich."

"That's not what I meant!" I screeched.

"Josh!" she said, her voice scolding. "It's time you stopped behaving like a child. Look at the bright side. Everyone gets what they want. You get to see Lara every day, your family becomes rich and successful, and I finally get my Petros back." She moved into the satyr's arms. "I've waited so long," she said, and kissed his cheek. She looked at me. "The change will be complete in Seventy-two hours. You will have wanted to say your goodbyes to your family before then. Music!" she cried out.

"Are you telling me I can't ever see my family ever again?"

"Of course you can see them. This is not a prison. But I'm sure you will want to see them when a Nereid is present to charm them into seeing you as you are today. You don't want them to see you as a satyr, do you?"

"I'm not going to do it."

"It's already done. Now, stop being a selfish child, and grow up. You have three days." We stared at one another. "Oh, look at me, ruining such a festive occasion." She faced the crowd. "A new day for the Nereid has arrived. We are entering our glory days. Everyone, rejoice." She waved a hand, and the music started up again.

Eudora and Petros danced. She rested her head on the satyr's shoulder, and he whispered gently into her ear.

"You won't get away with this," I called. She didn't hear me. I was drowned out by the rising shouts and well wishes.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I wheeled around. Asia was standing behind me. She smiled kindly, and took me by the hand, gently leading me back through the crowd. "It's not what you think it is. You'll see," she said.

"Will I be a satyr slave at Eudora's beck-and-call?" I asked.

She didn't answer for a long time. We cleared the crowd, exited the room and moved into the grand hall.

"Yes," she finally said. "But—"

"Then it's _exactly_ what I think it is."

Lara was facing away from me when I entered the room. She was looking out the window, gazing at the sun coming up over the enchanted hot spring below.

"Are you her slave?" she asked without turning around. Her words seemed trapped in her chest.

"Yes," I replied, dry-mouthed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "She's a monster."

I couldn't disagree.

"It's... uhh... It's okay. At least I'll be with you. Kind of," I said, searching for words to reassure her.

"You are so, so brave."

She finally turned and faced me. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I wished they'd never saved me."

"Don't say that." I moved across the room. "Don't ever say that. I'm glad they saved you. I couldn't live without you." I was about to take her in my arms when I noticed she was clutching a slender, crystal dagger in her hands. "What's that?"

She peered down at the dagger as if seeing it for the first time. The hilt was carved into the form of a serpent. The entire knife made of crystal. It was beautiful.

"Do you trust me?" she asked, her voice coming as if from a dream.

"Yes, yes, of course I do. But let's not go all Romeo and Juliet."

She looked into my eyes, and smiled through her tears.

"Don't be silly. I think there's a way," she said, "to reverse the curse, but you're going to have to trust me."

"I do. I trust you with my life."

"Good, because I'm going to kill you."

With those words she plunged the crystal dagger into my chest. She braced herself before the thrust, and when she lunged forward, it was ferocious and powerful. She was stronger than I ever imagined, and the force of the blow knocked me backwards, as the knife plunged through skin and sinew.

"What the..."

My eyes gaped to the size half dollars. I felt a sudden chill as if someone had thrust me into a deep freeze. I was colder than I'd ever been in my entire life.

I realized then, the crystal dagger sticking out of my chest was carved out of ice. I peered down at it in wonder as frozen pain radiated from my chest, down into my belly, and up toward my head.

"What... did... you... do?" The words rattled from my lips. As I spoke, I realized my teeth were chattering, my lips were covering with frost.

"I'm... so sorry," she said.

Her chest heaved in huge, remorseful sobs. Her eyes had become red rivers of pain. In truth, she wasn't crying. She was wailing noisily as silver strings of spittle drooled from her lips. I was reminded of my mother at my grandmother's funeral.

I again peered down at my chest. A stain created by the thawing water from the blade was now coving my dress shirt with a deep reddish/pink blot.

I was getting sleepy.

I collapsed to my knees, and realized I could no longer feel my legs.

"I love you," Lara whispered through her sobs.

I didn't respond. I didn't try to respond. I was too busy staring at my chest, watching the blood and water stain expand on my shirt, watching my life drain away.

I was days from my sixteenth birthday, and as my body grew colder, and my thoughts began to drift toward oblivion, I realized I wasn't going to make it. Fifteen and seven eights was as far as I would go.

I definitely did not see that one coming.

***

You always hurt the one you love

Lara Applegate didn't just hurt her one true love, she killed him. Has Josh and Lara's journey come to an end?

Read _Frostfellows,_ Book Two of _The Beautiful Creatures of Beverly Hills_ , available at most online retailers.

Thanks for reading, Moondancers, the first book in a new series. Why not take a moment now to write a review while the story is still fresh in your mind. You can post your reviews on iTunes, B&N, Goodreads.

The End

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