Chasing Power by Sarah Beth Durst
Last night … she knew how that conversation would unfold. She should never have started it. And she certainly shouldn’t have demonstrated one of her tricks to Moonbeam. What had she thought that would prove? Moonbeam had spent the rest of the night “quietly” crying into her pillow, as if it were possible to do anything quietly in a one-room house. You could practically hear how many squares of toilet paper someone used.
Kayla had felt as if she were the pillow, battered and damp. She’d slept badly, racked with guilt, and she’d woken to an empty house. Moonbeam had already left for work. Kayla had found a note on the kitchen table, next to a bran muffin: Please pick up a half gallon of milk, water the plants, and remember your promise.
After that, Kayla had started to feel angry. And the anger ate the guilt for goddamn breakfast, which was a buttery croissant bought with stolen money, not a bran muffin.
Moonbeam was wrong. Kayla was careful enough. She was careful, clever, and damn good at what she did. Halfway down the street, she parked herself on a bench that was free of breastfeeding women, middle-class teens pretending to be homeless, and overworked business types shoveling burritos into their mouths on their lunch breaks. She could do her tricks, help her family, and no one would ever know. Even Moonbeam.
Kayla focused on the store in front of her, a trying-too-hard surf store that sold novelty surfboards with fake shark bites cut out of them and bikinis so tiny they would have embarrassed a nudist. The cash register was by the front, next to a display of designer sunglasses. That was her target, simple and straightforward. She needed only to distract the clerk for half a minute.
Scanning the store, she selected her unwitting accomplice: a man in khakis and a Hawaiian shirt checking out the suntan-lotion options. He was holding a shopping bag from one of the other novelty shops. She popped a receipt out of his bag and set it skittering toward the front door. She left it next to the doorframe to use later.
The man reached for a bottle of suntan lotion. Go time, Kayla thought. She focused on the cash register, causing the buttons to depress one by one. As the drawer popped out with a ding, she covered the noise by causing the receipt to block the sensor—the bell for the door rang at the same time as the ding. The kid at the counter automatically glanced at the door, and Kayla mentally reached for the bills in the cash register. She caused three to slide out and down the side of the counter. She then stacked them together and rolled them into a thin, straw-size tube. As the customer approached the cash register with his bottle of suntan lotion, Kayla jumped the bills into the cuff of his pants. The customer paid and then walked out of the store.
Outside, Kayla forced the bills to jump out and then roll across the sidewalk to hit her own sneaker. She bent as if to retie her sneaker, palmed the bills, and then stuffed them into the pocket of her hoodie as she sat up.
A boy was sitting next to her.
Kayla jumped a half inch off the bench. He hadn’t been there when she’d bent over, had he? Maybe he had. Maybe she’d been concentrating so hard she’d failed to notice him. His elbows were resting on the back of the brick bench as if he’d been relaxing there for a while. He was looking at the surf store, not at her. She recognized him: smoky brown eyes, black hair, the kind of face that Selena would have declared poster-worthy. He was the guy who had been checking her out yesterday after the diamond heist.
She debated saying hi, casually. Any other day, she would have. But today she was in too foul a mood to allow even for gloriously gorgeous guys. He spoke anyway.
“Nice day,” he said.
“It’s Santa Barbara. We specialize in nice days.”
“Live here long enough and you get used to it?”
She shrugged. “Something like that.”
He tilted his head back as if soaking in the sun. Over them, the palm trees fluttered. It hadn’t rained in a while, and the stiff, dry leaves sounded like muffled wind chimes as they brushed against each other. “Here’s the part where you ask me where I’m from, since I’m so obviously not from a place with nice days all the time.”
“Only if I’m actually interested in hearing the answer.”
“That’s not necessary,” he said. “People have conversations all the time where they don’t care the slightest what the other person says.”
“I didn’t know we were officially having a conversation. Really, I’m having a bad day, so if you’re looking to make new friends in a new place, try me tomorrow.”
“But I’m here today, Kayla.”
Kayla stiffened. “You know my name?”
He smiled and didn’t answer.
“Yeah, that’s not at all creepy. How do you know my name?” She thought immediately of her father, then dismissed the thought. No way he knew she was here—or even knew her new name. It was infinitely more likely someone from town had told him. She did have classmates here, even if she ignored them. Kayla wasn’t her mother; she shouldn’t leap to paranoid conclusions. She’d let last night’s argument affect her more than she thought.
“My name’s Daniel.” He stuck out his hand like he wanted to shake. She shook it because she didn’t have a particular reason not to, plus she wanted him to answer her question.
“Okay, Danny, now that we’re best buds, how do you know who I am? Have you been stalking me? Because that’s not what friends do.” She tried to ignore the prickly feeling that walked over her skin. He couldn’t know what she did, what she could do. Also, you couldn’t get more public than the center of State Street. She was perfectly safe. This had nothing to do with Dad.
“Daniel. Not Dan. Not Danny. And how about I tell you a story? You can buy me a coffee. It might take a while.”
“I don’t buy guys coffee. You seem to be unclear on how this works. You’re hitting on me. I’m not obliged in any way to supply the beverages in this situation. Besides, I have to meet a friend soon.”
Daniel stood. He blocked the sun, and the light framed him, obscuring his features. She wasn’t certain if he was smiling or smirking. He looked a bit like a dark angel, dressed in all black with the sun halolike around him. “You’ll want to make an exception for me,” he said.
Maybe it would cheer her up to flirt with a cute guy for a little while, at least until Selena showed up. Still, she was not buying him coffee, cute or not. “Cocky much? That’s not as attractive as you think.”
“Actually, I was going for ominous. And I am not hitting on you. I need to talk with you, Kayla. It’s vitally important. Life-or-death important.” There was sincerity throbbing in his voice, but it still bothered her that he knew her name. She was the anonymous pink-haired girl, and she liked it that way. “I came a long way to find you.”
Instantly, she knew: Dad. She wasn’t paranoid. He’d sent this boy.
Kayla rose from the bench. Her heart beat so fast in her chest that she felt as though she’d swallowed a hummingbird. Her hands, shoved into her pockets, formed shaking fists. “Congratulations. Tell my father it’s about time. I’m sick of hiding. And he’s going to pay for what he did.”
And then she pivoted and ran.
Her sneakers slapped the tiled sidewalk. She veered around shoppers and tourists and random people who seemed to all move at a snail’s pace, clogging every inch of the available space. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw he was still standing there, next to the bench, watching her run down the sidewalk. She felt a burst of pride—she’d surprised him, and she was fast—but that was quickly squashed by the inner shout of, What do I do?
It was her mother’s worst fear, the consequence of using her power that Kayla had dismissed so quickly just last night. She had to warn Moonbeam and then … How much time did they have? Her father wasn’t here, only this boy. Was there time to pack? She wanted to swing by for at least her emergency backpack. Did he know where they lived? How did he find her? How much did he know? Would she be able to say good-bye to Selena? She could call from wherever they ended up, maybe, once it was safe. Selena would be pissed, but she?
Kayla rounded a corner onto Arroyo Street—and the boy stood in front of her.
He held up his hands. “I won’t hurt you.”
She glanced over her shoulder. He must have known a shortcut. She didn’t stay to ask. Pivoting again, she ran back to State Street. She’d flag down a cop and claim—
He appeared in front of her. Just appeared. One second, not there. And then …
Before she could react, he clamped a hand on her shoulder, and State Street vanished.
Dark. Light. Blue sky. She felt her knees buckle, and a pair of strong arms hauled her backward. She pitched back and landed hard on her butt. She was on a slope—a slope composed of red tiles. Like a roof.
Exactly like a roof.
She was on a freaking roof.
The boy sat calmly beside her.
She was even with the tops of palm trees. The leaves tickled the lip of the roof. Below was State Street, bustling exactly the way she’d left it, minus her and Daniel. “What—”
“I’d have preferred a coffee shop, but you didn’t seem to like that idea. This, at least, has a great view.” He pointed to the ocean, which was visible from the roof. Sunlight glinted off the waves. “You and I have to talk.”
She stared at the ocean.
And then she stared at him.
She sucked a deep breath in and then let it out. He’d surprised her. She’d never met anyone who could teleport. She didn’t know it was possible. Okay, she could handle this. She was a natural improviser. She could roll with it, right?
Putting on her sunglasses, Kayla leaned back onto the roof as if she were sunbathing. Her hoodie was unzipped, and the sun soaked into her bare stomach. “So, talk.” She tried to sound as if she were unconcerned and this sort of thing happened to her all the time. It was the best she could manage under the circumstances.
“Uh, okay.” She heard him swallow twice, and she counted that as a victory of sorts. “I don’t know why you think I’m here or who you think I am, but I swear to you that your father didn’t send me. I don’t know your father. I’ve never met him. I’ve never spoken to him. I’m here because … Look, can you sit up? This is a serious conversation, and I can’t talk to you while you’re sunbathing.”
“I can listen and soak at the same time. It’s called multitasking.”
“You’re doing it to annoy me.”
“You think, Danny?”
“I think it will take longer for you to climb down from here than it will for me to tell the police who stole those diamond rings yesterday. They’ll surround this building before you’re halfway tan.”
Her stomach flipped over and over. How did he know about the rings? Outwardly, she kept calm. She lifted her shades. “You may have my attention.” She managed to keep her hand from going to her pocket, where one of the rings was hidden. “But I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t steal anything.”
He laughed hollowly. “Come on, Kayla. You’re a master thief. I’ve seen you at work, though I admit today you were a little sloppy. Anyone could have seen those bills roll across the floor. And that man could have easily felt them in his cuff. Not to mention you were lucky with the cash register. If the clerk had been less stoned, he’d have noticed it was acting possessed. Yesterday you were much smoother. Something got under your skin today?”
“You’ve been watching me?” She kept her voice level. Her instincts said to run. But she was on a roof, and he’d caught her before.
“You’re very good at what you do.”
“Thanks. Who the hell are you?”
“Daniel. Rest of it isn’t important.”
Kayla snorted. Out of the corner of her eye, she scanned the immediate area. There wasn’t much she could use on the roof. Roof tiles and chimney were all attached, as well as too heavy. There weren’t even any stray dead leaves. She had only her phone and the ring in her shorts pocket, plus the cash in her hoodie pocket. She’d left the house so fast that she hadn’t prepared her usual supplies. She wouldn’t make that mistake again, assuming she ever got another chance.
“I need your help.”
“Really? You have a funny way of asking. Oh, and by the way, the answer is no.” She got to her feet. It wasn’t so far to the ground. She could dangle from the edge and drop. No matter what he said, it would be a few minutes before he could convince any cop to come after her, especially if she made dirt fly in Daniel’s eyes first. While he recovered, she could easily plant the ring in another person’s pocket … his, for example. Mentally, she reached for dirt at the base of a palm tree. She swirled a patch into a spiral.
“I would have asked your mother first for her permission, but wait, she doesn’t know you use your special power regularly. Or that you use it to steal.” His voice was mild, but the look in his eyes was triumphant. “It would be a shame if she found out, especially from a stranger.”
She stared at him and then forced herself to laugh. “You think she’d believe I have a ‘special power’? My mother isn’t that gullible, no matter what she looks like.”
“I think she would. Especially after your demonstration to her last night.”
Kayla froze. The dirt fell back onto the sidewalk. “You spied on me.”
His cheeks tinted pink, as if blackmailing her was vaguely embarrassing. “I had to be sure I was right. Too much is riding on this. I need your help too badly to take any risks.”
“Yeah, you said that, and you have a lousy way of asking for it.”
He shrugged. “I can’t risk your saying no. You’d understand if you’d quit whining long enough for me to explain.”
“Excuse me, whining? You threaten me. You—”
From the street, someone called up to them. “You! Kids! Get off the roof!”
Daniel grabbed her arm, and the sky went dark, light, and then was blue again. Kayla was looking at the ocean. Her legs shook, and Daniel released her. She sank into the soft sand as the world steadied. The waves folded into white foam and crashed onto the beach. Closer to the surf, kids laughed and people shouted. “Explain. Clearly. Fully. Including what just happened and why no one around us is freaking out.”
He frowned at the people not far away, primarily girls in bikinis, a pair of boys playing volleyball badly, and two toddlers fighting over a shovel. “People see what they expect to see, which is why I imagine you’ve gone unnoticed for so long.”
“Also I’m careful. And very, very good.”
“Of course.”
His voice was so bland that she studied his face to see if she could detect any sarcasm. But he was staring moodily at the waves. The wind brushed his hair over his eyes. He looked like at any moment he would spout bad poetry. “My mother has been kidnapped,” he said. “She could be killed if you don’t help me.”
Kayla opened her mouth and then shut it. The waves crashed on the sand. Nearby, a child squealed, and a mother scolded him.
“You don’t know me,” Daniel said. “You don’t know her. You have no reason to help us. So I’m giving you a reason. Help me save her, and I won’t tell your secret to your mother, the police, or the tabloids, who would eat up the proof I have on my phone’s camera—and backed up in three places you won’t find—faster than you can imagine.”
Chapter 4
Kayla could distract him and flee. Sand to the eyes would do nicely. But he knew her secret, he knew where she lived, and he knew who her mother was. Not to mention the itsy-bitsy fact that he could teleport. She’d have to knock him out cold if she wanted to really run.
She took a deep breath and tried to think. He knew. But he needed her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but here’s what I have so far: Your mother has been kidnapped. You need my help to save her. And you figured the best way to secure that help was to blackmail me, promising your silence in exchange for my assistance, instead of, you know, just asking me.”
Quietly, he said, “You could have said no.”
“But you won’t.”
“You haven’t told me what you want me to do.”
He clamped his hand around her wrist, and the world blinked again: dark, light, and this time, green. As the vertigo faded, her eyes adjusted. She was facing a hedge of dark green leaves punctuated with red hibiscus flowers the size of her hand. Garden gnomes lined the front of the hedge, and ceramic fairies were tucked underneath the branches. A breeze rustled the leaves, and a half-dozen wind chimes tinkled and tolled.
Daniel parked himself on her mother’s favorite bench—the one Moonbeam had found at a yard sale, sanded down, and painted herself with symbols for a safe and happy home. Kayla clenched her fists and then forced them to unclench. Stay calm, Kayla, she ordered herself. Keep control. She could fly mulch into his eyes, bash him with a garden gnome, and hope he stayed knocked out long enough for her to run to Moonbeam’s shop and tell her … Tell her what? That Kayla had endangered them? That she’d used her power less than twenty-four hours after promising not to and a boy had seen? She’d break Moonbeam’s heart.
Crap. There had to be a way out of this. She had to try to salvage the situation. He needed her. That gave her the advantage, didn’t it? She drew in a breath, steadying herself.
“Are you done?” he asked politely.
“Sorry?”
“Are you done running through all your options and deciding you should hear me out?” His hands were folded. His legs were stretched in front of him, feet crossed. He looked relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world.
“I did mention that cockiness is not attractive, right?”
“And that would be relevant if I were trying to pick you up. But I’m not. Please, hear me out.” He patted the bench next to him.