cover by Gretchen McNeil

 

Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy

Completed Manuscript

 

Excerpt:

CHAPTER 1

 

 

 

I stopped and glanced through the stream of people in the Acropolis museum, all trickling down the same path at a lazy pace. My raw cuticles stung from the merciless work of my fingers but I couldn’t stop. A minute ago, life was great. Everything around me was ancient Greece and pastry smells and full blown stomach jitters at the fact I’d been in Athens for two weeks straight. Even the scorching summer heat couldn’t melt my mood. But all of that was forgotten when I noticed the guy following me.

Don’t get me wrong, having any kind of guy—let alone a Greek one—chase me around added bonus points to my constantly dipping scale of self-confidence, especially if they were hot. But this guy wasn’t a teenager. No, he was more than likely a perv, and I could’ve sworn I’d seen him on our class tour in Delphi the day before. Or maybe I was just being paranoid.

My breath caught and the fear from earlier soured my stomach. His familiar face, half hidden beneath a mat of curly white-blond hair, flashed behind a group of school kids. They passed, and there he stood, staring, frozen like me in the bustle of museum goers with only a few people separating us.

Okay, so I wasn’t being paranoid. My chest burned, reminding me I’d been holding my breath. If I ran, I’d most likely look like an idiot. If I continued to stand there in shock, I’d most likely look like an idiot. It didn’t matter what I planned on doing, because in the time it took my brain to comprehend the fact that I really did have a stalker, he turned to mist.

That’s right, the guy evaporated into thin air.

One minute he was there, and the next—not so much. The steady flow of people hadn’t slowed. Not one single person stopped to notice the man who was no longer there. I blinked and scanned the crowd for his extremely curly hair. I couldn’t have imagined it, but I also didn’t see him anywhere. A cold stone settled in my gut. I had to find my class and fast. My feet remembered how to work and I nearly ran into a mother and her little boy with my pathetic jog.

“Sorry!” I stumbled around them toward the stairs, realizing she was Greek and maybe had no idea what I’d just said. Oh well, the last thing I was worried about was someone thinking me rude.

Why was that creep following me? He wasn’t bad looking, and couldn’t be that much older than me, but still . . . something in my gut told me he was bad news. I could picture it already. “Missing: Jessa Whitley, Age: 16, Eyes: Brown, Hair: Sandy blond. Smart mouth, dry sarcasm, and last seen with her class in Athens, Greece.” No way could that be my fate. Besides, last year’s school picture? So not flattering.

Knowing Mr. Beckett, he was probably five kinds of pissed at my longer-than-humanly-possible bathroom break. Telling my best friend I’d somehow managed to acquire a stalker was also top on my list of things to do. I took the stairs two at a time, hoping my asthma wouldn’t flair up.

At the top of the second floor, a colonnade of white life-sized statues stretched the length of several rooms. Golden fingers of early morning sunlight extended across the marbled floor from the tall, rectangular windows lining the walls. As I took the next step something tugged on my shoe and I watched in horrified mortification as my other foot—trapped by a stepped-on shoelace—sent me tumbling. I fell forward into a large, doughy man. I pushed away and tried to right myself by grasping the next closest thing. A statue.

My hand tightened over the smooth curves of its foot, steadying my balance. A weird current pulsed into my skin. The cold stone in my stomach expanded, making me feel heavy, weighed down. My breath caught. “What the—” In a blink, I was thrown into a dream, or some really messed up hallucinations.

Ocean waves attacked me. I grasped for something, anything, but only found myself tangled in white cloth—clothes? Water pushed me down, deeper and darker. My lungs were collapsing, struggling against the pressure. This couldn’t be real.

Deep breaths, I said to myself. Open your eyes. Wake up.

Something bright swam towards me. It wasn’t a good kind of bright. Flailing, I clawed at the cloth, kicked away, trying to twist free. Panic bloomed in my chest. The last of my breath escaped in a burst of bubbles. I was going to die. No, I was dying.

The brightness grew to blinding giant tongues of white fire that licked away the raging waters. The tightness in my chest disappeared and I could breathe again. I stood on solid ground while the flames drew up a wall around me. A strange impulse to reach out and touch the fire tingled down my arms and into my fingers, and for some stupid reason, I did. Instead of burning my skin, the flames flickered from my touch, curled around my fingers like wisps of smoke. The colors of the fire turned vibrant orange, the shape morphing into tiny hands caressing my skin. I jerked my hand back with a gasp. The fire grew taller and I clasped my head as a thousand screams of terror tore through my mind, guaranteeing me a skull-shattering headache. I pressed my eyes shut.

Go away.

The screams and the whispers jumbled together, growing louder, fighting for room, breaking my skull, until one word cut through the chatter and silenced it.

Amara.

 

My eyes snapped open and I staggered back. The wheezes started. Leaning over, I fought the urge to grab my inhaler. I wasn’t weak. I could catch my breath. I looked up and saw my class coming. Even more reason to get it together. They’d never let it go if they thought I was having some sort of panic attack. The jokes would last all through first semester. Even if I was freaking out, they didn’t have to know. My brain couldn’t grasp what the heck had just happened. Had someone slipped me the crazy pill during breakfast?

Short, pale blond curls caught my attention. Two statues down, the vanishing Greek man watched. I curled my fingers into a death-grip around the statue. Not good, Jessa. Not good at all.

Before I could get my brain to stop stuttering, a security guard was yelling Greek at me for touching the statue. My entire class turned my way. Video-phones, need I say more?

My insides were twisted up like the toilet paper in my ex’s front yard after a windy night had made sure it’d be hell to clean up. The images gripping me a minute ago fizzled away, but not the feeling. I couldn’t shake the fear and confusion.

Mr. Beckett did some fast talking to keep me from getting kicked out or possibly shipped back home. We only had one day left on this trip, but it’d been my lifelong dream to step foot into this ancient country. Plus, my mom would kill me. She’d practically dipped into my college savings—unlike all the other kids, whose ‘rents naturally had the cash. It was a miracle we moved, though, even if I did feel a little out of my league in moneyville. Richland Heights was one of very few private schools that had class trips to Greece.

“Man, Jess, are you whacked?” asked Brian, the class jerk.

I ignored him and the digitized mechanical click of his cell. I turned to glare at the Greek guy but all I could see through my classmates was the top of his head.

Mr. Beckett finished calming the guard down. He wiped his hands over his brown pants and cast me a sideways glance. This clearly meant I owed him some explanations. Great. I sort of hoped my “you’re my best student, Jessa” pass would get me out of this one.

He waved for everyone to line up. “The drama’s over. Come on, people.”

As he guided students back to the tour, Samantha pushed her way through to me. “Dude, Jessa! What happened?”

I slowed my steps, falling into the back of the group and not letting my eyes off my stalker. When I was sure no one could overhear, I leaned in close to her. “Sam, I’m being followed and it’s freaking me out.”

“What?” Her expression morphed into a you’re-going-insane look, but her sky blue eyes darted around for the threat.

I sighed, turned her to the statue where the man stood, and pointed. “See?”

He was gone. In that one second it took for me to get her to look, he’d vanished. Again.

Samantha put on a mom-worthy scowl and looked like she was about ready to check for a fever. “You think you were being followed?”

“Yeah. Uh.” I fidgeted with my purse. Should I tell her? She’d think I’d lost it, that the Athens heat had gotten to my head. Why on Earth would anyone want to follow me? But I knew what I saw. Or at least, I thought I did. Samantha was my best friend. If I couldn’t trust her, then I couldn’t trust anyone.

“Don’t think I’m crazy, but I swear, this guy’s been following me since the Parthenon. And he, like, vanishes. Whatever it is, he trips me out.”

One thin, pencil-lined eyebrow arched high. “Vanishes?”

My stomach churned. This morning’s breakfast of loukamades and yogurt sloshed around and threatened to become the new floor décor. “Yeah, I know, it’s stupid. Crazy. But I swear the guy was following me.” To the point that I’d mentally checked if I had something on me that would identify me if local authorities found my body dumped in an alley somewhere. You know, like my name on the tag of my underwear or something.

She shook her head, bouncy golden hair catching the sunlight. “Jessa, you’re overreacting. He probably just thought you were cute.”

Yeah, cute enough to kidnap and sell.

“But if you’re that worried, you should tell Mr. Beckett,” she said.

“Um, yeah.” That was definitely not happening. If my mom ever got wind that some random Greek man was stalking me, I’d be shipped home, stat. “Listen, don’t tell anyone. You’re probably right, I’m just overreacting.” I tried not to stare at the statue or think about the crazy images that invaded my brain, trampling it to senseless mush.

Samantha shrugged and adjusted the strap of her yellow tank.

“Sam!” Dawn, my newest frenemy seeing as she was trying to steal my best friend, waved from the bottom of the staircase leading up to the third floor.

Sam held up a just-one-second finger and gave me a good, long look. “You gonna be okay?” Her voice sounded concerned, but I could tell she’d rather not deal with my usual overreacting nature. By the way she held her shoulders, she was ready to turn and leave as soon as I gave the word.

I adjusted my purse, gave a shrug of my own, and said, “Yeah, fine.”

“You coming? Or taking your own personal tour again?” A playful smile pulled at her glossy pink lips.

I laughed, though inside I felt hollow. Not even cold and heavy, just empty. “Yeah, just give me a sec.” I didn’t miss the pointed look Mr. Beckett gave me, either. He stood waiting at the top of the third floor stairs, no doubt ready to lecture me about my carelessness.

Samantha hesitated before weaving through the other marbled statues to join the group. Dawn met her halfway. And enter the jealousy. Elbows locked together, the two of them already looked engrossed in some horrible yet delicious story. I couldn’t help but notice Dawn glance back in my direction with her perfectly eye-lined almond-shaped eyes. Obviously, whatever gossip she was dishing had something to do with me.

Here I’d thought a summer school trip to Greece would save me from school politics. At least we were going home tomorrow. Which sucked, really, I’d hardly gotten enough of Greece.

Wrapping my arms over my stomach I turned to give one last look at the statue. The guard still stood, staring daggers at me. The big baton strapped to his hip kept me from going back to poke the glistening marble as if it had a contagious disease to see if anything would happen again. Instead, I focused on the smooth planes of the statue’s face. The sun splashed orange hues across the whiteness of it, creating an angelic look to the naked man. With his lyre and the snake I knew from Greek mythology to be Python, there was no question as to which god he was—Apollo, the sun god.