Forlorn: A Young Adult Dark Urban Fantasy (Mythic Blood Series Book 1) Read online

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank all of the members of my weekly critique group, Wednesday Ink, for your feedback, discussion, and support. Thank you to my beta readers and my editor for your insightful feedback. And so much gratitude to my proofreaders, especially Stevi and Jay.

  Forlorn

  Mythic Blood Series

  Book One

  JJ Krzemien

  Text copyright ©2018 JJ Krzemien

  All rights reserved.

  December 2018

  CHAPTER ONE

  Park restroom lights flickered as I stared into the film-covered mirror. The itching between my shoulders was making me crazy. The more I scratched, the more it itched. Reaching under my grimy T-shirt, I rubbed the irritated spot. My hand came away with blood and tiny white feathers—like I was losing my stuffing. Losing my mind, more like.

  I inhaled and smelled stale urine. Nose wrinkled, I washed my hands in the dribbling faucet. The hazy reflection gazing back at me had lank, dirty hair and sad eyes. Didn’t look like me at all. Great, no paper towels. I dried my hands on the inside of my hoodie.

  There were certain things Mom should have told me. Like I was not entirely human. That would’ve been a great place to start. Too late for that now. My last memory of Mom, we had just returned to our rental cabin after a long day on the slopes. Every year for winter break we went up to Mount Hood.

  “Wait up, hon.” Mom said, locking the SUV’s doors.

  I jogged up the snow-covered path toward the cabin. “If I don’t get in that hot tub soon, I’m going to freeze to death.” My breath escaped in white puffs through my chattering teeth.

  “Lilianna,” Dad said, “wait for us. You can’t get in, I have the key.”

  Mom named me. No idea where she came up with Lilianna. I go by Lili. “Come on.” I stood by the front door shifting from one foot to the other. They’d gone numb more than an hour ago.

  Dad opened the door. “Thanks,” I mumbled, rushing past him, headed straight for my room. Peeling off my skiing clothes one layer at a time, I glanced out the big windows. More snow on the ground and in the pines. The trees were so tall they cast a constant shadow on the cabin. I shivered and burrowed my feet into the sheepskin rug in front of the dresser. I put on my blue and white striped bikini then wrapped up in a fleece robe and hugged it close. Now for that hot tub.

  In the tiny kitchen my parents were pouring wine. “Want a little bit?” Mom offered, swirling the Merlot in her half-filled glass.

  I wrinkled my nose. “No, thanks.”

  Dad clapped me on the back. “Your taste buds will change. Someday you’ll like wine.”

  “Doubt that. I’m going in the hot tub.”

  “We’re right behind you,” Mom said.

  “I’m not.” Dad gestured to the front porch. “I’m going to light the BBQ.”

  Mom took a swallow of wine and glanced at Dad. “Oh, do you want help?”

  “No, no. You go soak with Lilianna.”

  “That’s okay. I can help with food prep.” She moved to set her glass on the counter.

  “I’ve got this. If you want to soak, soak.” Dad put an arm around Mom’s shoulders and steered her toward their bedroom to change.

  “Are you sure—”

  I held up both hands. “You guys do whatever. I’m hot tubbing. Right now.”

  The back deck opened to the dusky sky. I hung up my robe and climbed into the tub. Pure ecstasy. We had a hot tub at home but soaking in the middle of the woods, with bits of snow floating down, after a long day of skiing was the best. I loved winter break. My birthday was next week. Sweet sixteen. Then Christmas and New Years. I crossed my fingers for a car, every sixteen-year-old’s dream.

  The sliding glass door swooshed open and Mom stepped through. She wore her black one-piece swimsuit. As usual she looked amazing. I hoped I’d look that good when I was her age. Whenever I brought that up she’d always say we had strong genes in our family. Grandma had been a model.

  It was true: Grandma, Mom, and I all looked alike. Tall, slender, blond, and blue-eyed. Grandma had died before I was born, but I kept a picture of her on my night stand.

  Mom sighed as she slowly eased into the tub. She twisted the dial that started the jets on low.

  “Mom? There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.” It had to be now, when Dad wasn’t around. Mom would understand. Girl talk.

  “Mmmhm?”

  “So, I’ll be turning sixteen next week. Can I finally start dating?” I swiped a lock of hair behind my ear, trying for casual.

  She eyed me. “Maybe. We’ll talk about it with your father.”

  “I thought we could talk about it now.” I leaned forward. The water tickled my back and I scratched the smooth skin between my shoulders. “There’s this guy on the football team, he’s so hot. And single right now. I really want to go out with him.”

  “Single right now. What does that mean?” She sank further into the water until only her head was visible.

  “He and his girlfriend broke up. And every girl in school wants to be his next girlfriend. That’s how great he is.”

  Mom furrowed her brow. “Has he even asked you out?”

  “Well no, but everybody knows I’m not allowed to date yet. So no one even bothers asking me.” I put on a little pout.

  Mom gave me that look, like I was trying to play the pity card. Which was true. I pressed on. “Please. If it’s left up to Dad I’ll be a spinster. Old and grey. He’ll finally give me his permission to date when he’s on his deathbed.”

  “Okay, okay.” Mom laughed. “Enough of the morose.”

  “So you’ll convince him?”

  “I’ll talk to him. No promises. It’s not just him. I don’t want you making the same mistakes I did.”

  Here we go again with the mistakes that she’d made, but wouldn’t tell me about. They were always just referred to as: The Mistakes. Sometimes I wondered if they had anything to do with me, and that’s why she wouldn’t talk about them.

  I sighed and leaned back into the jet. “I won’t make your mistakes. Although if you told me what they were, I would know what to look out for.”

  “Someday, hon.” Mom smiled at me. “When you’re old enough, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  I opened my mouth to question her, but she stood up out of the water.

  “I warm up so quick. See you inside. Take your time.” She grabbed a towel from the hooks along the cabin wall then went back inside.

  I shrugged. Someday, hopefully soon, she’d stop being so mysterious and tell me about those mistakes. I’d heard stories at school from girls who’d had bad experiences with boys. Like guys slipping drugs into their drinks. Mom’s was probably something similar. A part of me wished she felt comfortable enough to share it with me. Another part of me didn’t want to hear about anything that had hurt her so deeply.

  Closing my eyes, I leaned back and felt the snow melt on my face. I opened my mouth to the thick, icy flakes. I’d consider that dating conversation a win. Mom hadn’t said no, which meant she’d at least talk to Dad. If he said yes, I could stop feeling so left out. All of my friends dated and most of them even had ex-boyfriends. I so wished Sarah, my best friend, was here. I’d have to text her when I went back inside.

  My stomach growled. As much as I wanted to stay in the hot tub all night, I sighed and stood up. Stepping out of the hot water onto the icy deck and grabbing my robe, I cocooned in its plush fleece. Steam evaporated from my feet into the cold air. I hurried to the sliding door, reaching fo
r the handle.

  A deafening bang ripped through the evening air. Flames exploded from the cabin, throwing me backward. I hit the deck hard, cringing away from flying debris. Like a wave, the fire reached forward, and broke over me. Engulfing me in burning heat and searing red pain.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I woke to the sound of steady beeping. The air was still, but smelled really clean. Chemical clean. I opened my eyes to a softly lit pale yellow room. One window, dark outside. My head felt funny. I pushed up to a sitting position, ignoring the woozy sensation. I’d been in the hospital before—for sports injuries. But this felt different.

  Someone gave a single knock at the door, then it opened. The nurse was a skinny redhead with serious eyes.

  “Sitting up already?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. “You must be feeling better. Are you in any pain?”

  I shook my head. Not sure how I felt. There were two big questions on my mind. The one about me I could deal with, whatever the answer was. The one about my parents… I swallowed hard.

  While she checked my vitals I asked her the safer question. “How bad am I? My injuries, I mean.”

  “You are going to be all right, from the look of everything.” She turned her calm gaze on me. “You did really well with the surgery. And you’re recovering faster than expected.”

  I nodded. “What was I in surgery for?”

  “A piece of sheet metal pierced your abdomen and they had to remove it. So take it real easy. It’s going to take a while to heal. Besides that you have some burns from the fire.”

  “How bad?”

  “Second degree burns.” She hesitated, probably trying to decide how much to tell a fifteen-year-old. “You won’t need skin grafts or anything. There may be some scarring, but you’ll heal.”

  A long silence stretched between us and I knew it was time for my other, scarier question. My chest squeezed tight. I knew what she was going to say; the knot in my stomach told me. I didn’t want to ask, but I had to know for sure. “My parents?”

  The nurse took my hand and sat down next to me. “I’m so sorry, Lilianna. Your parents didn’t make it.”

  Nothing. Where I should have felt emotion, there was only numbness. I nodded, as if she’d just told me the time.

  “Who can I call for you? Do you have any relatives or friends I can call?”

  Sarah. I wanted my best friend with me. I gave the nurse Sarah’s address. Without my cell I didn’t have her phone number.

  “And what are Sarah’s parents’ names?” She wrote it down on a note pad she’d pulled from one of her pockets.

  Oh no, Sarah’s mom. Julia was my mom’s best friend. She was going to take this really hard. How was I supposed to tell them? Or would the police do that, like in the movies?

  “Do you want to talk to a counselor? Or a priest, maybe?” The nurse looked concerned.

  I eased back onto the pillow and took a deep breath. “No, thanks. I’ll just wait for Sarah to get here.”

  “Okay.” The nurse gave me a sympathetic smile. “Let me take a look at your bandages.”

  She examined the ones on my arms and chest, then moved my hospital gown aside to look at the wrapping round my stomach. Her brows knitted as she checked each one.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  Her eyes met mine for a second then darted away. “No, nothing is wrong. You’re fine.” The nurse put the blanket back over me. “You’ve slept for quite a while. I’ll get you something to drink and a little to eat.” She quickly left, closing the door behind her.

  Was she acting strange or was it just me? I shook my head. None of this seemed real. I kept thinking over and over: My parents are dead. My parents are dead. But the words didn’t seem to have meaning. No emotion was connected to those words. I rubbed my face, trying to bring some feeling back into it.

  One knock at the door and it opened. That nurse was quick. Instead it was an uniformed officer. He stared at me and I shifted forward to sit up straighter. Was he here about my parents? Did he want to ask me questions about the explosion? About the accident?

  He stepped closer, stopping at the foot of my bed. Brown hair, brown eyes. He was probably in his late thirties. “Are you Lilianna Ross?” he asked, his voice formal and professional.

  “Yes.” I frowned at him. Whatever news he had, it couldn’t be good.

  He reached into his vest, pulling out a gun with a silencer, and took aim at my chest.

  A loud metallic crash came from the doorway followed by the nurse’s shriek.

  I flinched.

  The gun went off and my shoulder surged with pain.

  The man swore, his gun disappearing back into the vest as he ran after the nurse.

  I clutched my shoulder. Blood flowed between my fingers and down my arm, staining the blue hospital gown and white sheets. That man tried to kill me. What the hell was going on? I should have been scared. Instead, all I could think was that he’d be back to finish the job. I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Barefoot I went to the door. No one was around. Shouts came from further down the corridor. They were coming this direction.

  My toe bumped into the plastic food tray on the floor. The nurse had dropped it, but there wasn’t any food debris on the floor. Just the tray and beside it a fat syringe filled with black liquid.

  The shouting was getting closer. I staggered down the hall then tried a door. It opened and I stepped into a dark room. Someone snored in the bed. Slipping into their closet, I shut the door. The space was cramped and my knees banged against the wall.

  Catching my breath, I closed my eyes to think. I had to get out of this hospital right now. Before he—whoever he was—found me. Clothes, I needed clothes. Where could I get—?

  My eyes flew open. Reaching up, I grabbed the clothes hanging above my head, stepped out of the closet, and tiptoed into the bathroom. The night light cast an eerie bluish glow. One hanger held a long winter coat. A plastic bag packed with clothes, shoes, and accessories hung from the other.

  I dumped everything out of the bag one-handed. Little old lady clothes: Elastic-waist pleated pants, a button up floral shirt, and shoes with Velcro instead of laces. They would have to do.

  With as much care as I could muster in a hurry, I stripped off the gown and used it to wipe the blood from my arm. The bleeding seemed to be slowing. The pain was subsiding, too. I dressed in the woman’s clothes. Crammed my feet into the too-small shoes. Covered it all with her big long coat. I shoved my hands in the coat pockets and one touched smooth, worn leather. I pulled out a wallet. About to put it back in, I paused. All I needed was some money. Opening it I found twenty-some-odd dollars. I stuffed the money in my pocket. The wallet and her jewelry, I left on the counter.

  Back in her room I listened at the door. People shouting and running in the corridor. It was chaos out there. A good time to get out of here.

  I cracked the door open to peer out. My room, down the hall, had drawn a crowd. No idea what they were all looking at, but it probably wasn’t good. I closed the door behind me and walked in the opposite direction, following the exit signs.

  My legs shook. I wanted to be out of here. The coat had a hood and I was tempted to pull it up. But that would probably draw attention. Instead I kept my head down and scanned the people who passed in the halls. It was only a matter of time before I turned a corner and there he would be, ready to kill me.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. Opening the nearest fire exit door I took the stairs two at a time. On the ground level I turned away from the front entrance. Halfway to the cafeteria I found a side exit. It opened out onto a patio.

  The cold, damp city air filled my lungs. It chilled the sweat on my face and hands, clearing my head. The hospital was a cluster of huge buildings. I chose what looked like a main road and headed downhill. Everything was down the hill from OHSU, that much I knew.

  I followed Campus Drive as it twisted and turned around the hospital buildings and beneath sky bridges. One side of the s
treet had a sidewalk, dark evergreens and underbrush on the other side. The night sky threatened rain, but not snow. It rarely snowed in the city of Portland.

  As distance grew between me and the hospital, I felt less shaky. My body was sore with dull aches. But not the I-might-be-bleeding-to-death kind of pain I expected. I was no expert, but I believed running around the day after abdominal surgery was not the best thing to do. I pushed the thought away.

  Why had that man tried to kill me—and a police officer at that? He knew my name, wanted to make sure it was me. No accident. Not a coincidence. Just plain old willful murder. Why would he do that to me? I shivered, wishing my dad was here.

  Finally, the road ended at a T intersection. It was even a street I recognized: Terwilliger Blvd. Now I knew where I was, that was the good news. However, home was nearly ten miles away. It would take me all night to walk that. And that’s if I didn’t pass out from loss of blood, or tear open stitches, or something worse. Like that murderous police officer finding me. I shifted my weight from one snug shoe to the other, trying to relieve the pinching.

  What I would’ve given to have my phone. It had probably been destroyed in the explosion. I hugged myself and rocked slightly. Thinking about the past wasn’t going to help. I had to look forward and keep going.

  As I nodded in determination and turned right onto Terwilliger, a city bus whooshed past. It came to a stop a few feet away, the headlights shining on the bus stop sign. I waved and ran after it, holding my stomach with both hands just in case. Wherever it was going would be better than here. I climbed up the stairs and fished some of the old lady’s money to feed into the machine. “Thanks for waiting.”

  “No problem.” The driver closed the doors. “This is the last bus for tonight.”

  I sat in the first row of seats even though the bus was nearly empty. “What time is it?”

  “Quarter past six.”

  Not as late as I’d thought. “Isn’t that really early for buses to stop running?”

  “It’s only this line.”

  I nodded. Looking up at the information board I found the bus route map. Besides escaping murder, this was my lucky break. The bus headed for the Tigard Transit Center. From there it was one transfer and I’d be home in Lake Oswego.