Riot Girls: Seven Books With Girls Who Don't Need A Hero Read online

  She needed to banish the freak-outs, so she gathered up her book, glass, and sunscreen to go inside and hang with her brother. Although Bobby was only ten, he was usually pretty good company, and anything would be better than the eerie feeling that the garden gnome was watching her every move. She snapped a quick shot of it with her phone and texted it to Tanji with the tagline "mom goes nuts with the gnomes again." Then she made a face and stuck her tongue out at the ugly thing at the end of the yard before turning toward the house,

  As she slipped in through the sliding doors, Lizbet didn't hear the quietly muttered, "Och, very classy." If she had, she'd have pelted through the door, screaming at top volume, and been out the front door with her brother in tow before he even had time to blink.

  ~*~

  Eamon watched the girl walk into the house and allowed himself to relax with only a bit of a complaint as the patio doors closed. A blink of the eyes was also in order after so long without one. Not that it was absolutely necessary yet. He'd once gone two weeks without even a flicker of his eyelids because the quest called for it. Still, it felt better to blink than not to blink.

  He turned his golden eyes up to the window next door where the boy was just disappearing from view. What would the girl think if she knew how often the lad happened by the window to glance out into her backyard? Eamon didn't understand human mating rituals, but he knew them when he saw them. These two had already begun the dance. Given the circumstances, how could they not?

  Before these two children were to move further down their path, Eamon had to wrestle with their fates and point them in an unexpected direction. One way or another, his own role in the larger dance of more than a thousand years was coming to an end. He looked forward to returning to a life of simple creature comforts, assuming his mistress kept her promise…assuming both he and his mistress survived.

  ~*~

  Bobby was in the family room, engrossed in a multiplayer game on his XBox, joking and laughing with his friends through the Internet. Lizbet thought about sneaking up on him and letting him have it with a righteous round of noogies, but she knew big-sister noogies weren't going to be enough to tear him away from the battle. From the sound of his excited taunts to his buddies, he was doing well. She stood in the doorway and watched him shooting up an alien landscape until her case of the creeps subsided.

  She wished she could be better at stirring up fun so she didn't spend her whole summer vacation with her nose in a book or taking long bike rides alone, but she almost missed school now that she was a couple of weeks out from the end of her sophomore year. Even though she made as big a show of avoiding her homework as Bobby did his, she had actually kind of looked forward to her chemistry homework. She thought it was interesting how things worked together, and being good at it would help her out if she managed to do well enough to get the medical degree she hoped to have some day.

  There was also a good chance she'd make track team captain next year. She found that kind of scary and kind of exciting at the same time—coach had told her a couple of times that although she wasn't the fastest on the team she worked out hard and smart and had a way of knowing what to say to bring out the best in her team-mates. It gave her a warm feeling to know that her coach saw her as a leader. She looked forward to trying to be one if she got the chance. She wasn't sure her coach was right, though. She'd never done any leading to this point. She liked staying in the background. Her friend Tanji was much more the out-in-front kind.

  She thought about going back outside, but she really was tired of reading now, and, although it was a beautiful day, the last thing she needed was a whole new crop of unwanted freckles from being out in the sun too long. With her fair complexion, she didn't have much of a chance of avoiding them even with constant applications of sunscreen, but she didn't need to tempt fate, either. When her phone played the opening chords of "Walking on the Sun", she snatched it out of her back pocket hopefully.

  "Tanj? Are you home?"

  "For now. They're packing me off to Gran's in a couple of days."

  "I'm sure it'll be awful having to sit around in the sun in Jamaica."

  "Yeah, it'll be alright to see Gran. I'd rather be here, though. But with mi madre still in New York for work, and mi padre at work all the time even though he's here, they would rather set me up for the out of town option."

  "Can I cruise by when I'm released from the Bobby-watching duties?"

  "Yeah. You're about the only person Dad trusts me to have in the house when he's gone. You can help me pack. Oh, and I need my bikini back."

  "The one my mom took one look at and ordered me back into the house, telling me to never come outside naked again? Yep, no problem. I'll bring it. Be there in an hour or so."

  She grabbed a sandwich and an apple for dinner while she waited for her mother to get home. She was moving even before the garage door finished closing, signaling her mother's arrival. As Mrs. Moore came into the hall from the garage, Lizbet buzzed by on her way out.

  "Bobby's on the XBox. Hasn't eaten. I have. Off to Tanji's…"

  Mrs. Moore barely had time to nod an "okay" before her daughter disappeared through the front doorway.

  Tanji lived across town, and it would take Lizbet at least half an hour to get there on her bike. The bike path skirted the edge of town, bypassing most of the populated areas. While it could get crowded on the paved sections, she would usually be alone for the last two miles of the ride when the path turned from asphalt to cinder.

  She liked being alone with her thoughts, accompanied by the steady, pumping rhythm of her legs as she rode along. It gave her time to think and dream. It gave her time to lose herself for just a little while.

  Then came the best part—The Hill. Bobby called it “The Hill from Hockey Sticks” because he was still young enough to believe that Mom really would wash his mouth out with soap if he said the other thing. And it was definitely a hell hill—her legs burned every time she finally made it all the way up. At the top, where the hawks rode the air currents high above, you had to listen and look sharp to make sure no cars were barreling down the road before you crossed, but once you did…on the other side…

  There are no words for it. When she was standing on the pedals and coasting down that hill, that freedom…

  It must be what the hawks feel, because it feels like flying.

  ~*~

  Tanji handed Lizbet a bowl of vanilla ice cream slathered in strawberry preserves. "So, has that geeky hottie from next door been around?"

  "James? Nah. Not for a couple of days. I think he just gets revved talking about video games with the little brother."

  "Oh, right. And he happens to be driving down the street whenever you and Bobby are walking home from the pool so that he can offer you a ride. And just happened to be heading out of the house with a baseball bat in his hand the time that jerk from school walked you home and tried throw you up against your gate and stick his tongue down your throat? No, girl, he knows your schedule. Geek boy likes you."

  "Yeah, that was kind of scary. I'm glad he was there. Lotta good it does me. He's nineteen. He's in college. No way Mom would let me go out with him even if he asked. I'm not even sixteen for another month."

  Tanji gave her friend a grin as she looked up from the ice cream she had been busily mushing into soft pink mounds. "I say go for it. With me gone, what are you going to do otherwise? Take up Xbox gaming with Bobby and his friends? Oh yeah, that'll be a laugh and a half."

  "Seriously…shut up. I have other friends!" Lizbet gave her friend's leg a gentle kick with the tip of her shoe under the table.

  "Sure, yeah, you do. But nobody comes close to your fierce, awesome BFF. So, you might as well spend a couple weeks working on the cute guy next door who thinks you're cute, too. Girl, a little flirt never hurt. I want the full report when I get home since my parents will kill me if they see international texts flying back and forth from my phone. And hey…what is up with that garden gnome pic you sent me? Try to get t
hat guy out somewhere other than your backyard 'cause that could definitely be a romance killer."

  "It's vile, isn't it? Yu-u-uck. With a capital ‘Yuh’." Lizbet raised her shoulders and shook her head from side to side in a drawn out shudder. "I don't know what's up with my Mom on that one."

  "I'd say trash it, but what it really needs is an exorcism. Do you think she'd notice if you pitched it?"

  "She'd notice. Gnomes are like her obsession."

  "Yeah, well, at least your mother doesn't spend all of her time at work. I guess I'd put up with a butt ugly gnome or two if I saw my maternal unit for more than five minutes a week…are you done with that?" Tanji swept up the bowl Lizbet was thinking about licking clean and set it in the sink. "Come on, my room. You can help me find all my cutest stuff to try out on the Rasta boys."

  As Tanji finished packing for the plane to Jamaica, her father bustled in with take-out for two and work he had to finish while he ate. It would be dark soon, so Lizbet called her mother and let her know that she was on her way home.

  Although she would probably make it home before nightfall, she knew her mother would worry if she didn't know that her daughter was on her way. Even after dark, she felt perfectly safe on the path. She could outpace just about anything dangerous she'd run into, except maybe a cheetah, and she felt pretty secure that she wouldn't run into a cheetah in Ohio. Even so, she was okay giving her mom a time-frame for panic if she didn't show up.

  Lizbet always made it back before panic could set in. Panic-Mom was not something she ever wanted to deal with.

  ~*~

  Eamon kept his distance and made nary a sound as he ran along just ahead of Lizbet through the trees on the side of the bike path. He could move much faster than a cheetah, and he did, after all, have to make it back first so that he could return to his place in the garden. On the other hand, he couldn't get too far ahead because he also had to make sure that nothing out of the ordinary happened to the lass on her way home.

  Eamon stopped at the bottom of the hill, waiting for Lizbet to descend. She crested the hill with the setting sun shining orange through the trees just over her shoulder. She stood up on the pedals for the long glide down the other side and whooshed down the hill, laughing, one hand on the handlebars and the other thrown out to the wind, her red hair fanning out from her helmet like flame. This one, he thought, this one, more than any of the others, was born to be fae.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Thanks For The Memories

  LIZBET JUGGLED HER book, sunglasses, phone, sunscreen, bottle of water, and lunch as she tried to move through the screen door without having anything take a dive. It was dicey for a minute when the slice of watermelon that perched on top of the book (tentatively balanced above the rim of the water bottle which was secured by only two fingers), almost took a header onto her favorite light blue yoga pants. She somehow managed to land it all safely on the picnic table in what she tried to convince herself was an astounding display of dexterity.

  The minute she hit the lounger, she slapped on her shades and gave a quick, hidden glance toward the back window of the over-the-garage apartment next door. She hoped James hadn't seen her ballet of malcoordination. When she glanced down to the end of the garden, she imagined the ugly gnome wore a smirk it hadn't been wearing yesterday.

  Glad that she hadn't been observed being a goober, she slathered on her sunscreen and kicked back in a lounger with her book. She was soon completely absorbed in the story and forgot all about creepy garden gnomes and cute boys next door for most of an hour.

  Suddenly, she heard a scuffling sound right behind her and abruptly sat up straight, startled.

  She turned. The ugly gnome wasn't sitting in the garden with his little friends any more. It was a few steps away, its horrible little hands reaching out to encircle her neck. She jumped up and stumbled backward in the other direction, but the gnome caught hold of one of her arms and quickly pulled himself up her body. He pinned an arm with one hand and clasped his other hand over her mouth to stifle her scream. She tried to shove him off with her free arm, but he was incredibly strong for someone so small.

  She spun around, trying to shake him off while still hitting out at him with her free arm. Her efforts to scream were muffled and useless. The little man's legs lost their grip around her waist for a moment and went swinging out in an arc as she spun, but he was able to pull them back in and get a firmer grip. It would have been comical if it weren't terrifying. How did her quiet afternoon reading turn into a bad horror movie?

  She dropped to her knees and then rolled on the hard concrete patio, hoping to damage her attacker enough to make him let go. He was clearly hurt by the maneuver—she heard a grunt and a soft "och" as she thumped some part of his body hard against the ground. Still, the gnome clung to her. She stopped trying to scream and gasped hard against his hand to take a deeper breath. When she did, he took his hand away from her mouth and slid it almost gently over her the back of her head, then jumped away from her. He stood staring at her, panting, leaning over with his hands on his knees.

  Lizbet felt a spot of heat on her chest. She looked down and saw she was wearing a medallion strung on a thick silver chain. She hadn't seen it in her attacker's hand, but she knew that he had somehow placed it around her neck. The red stone in the center of the medallion glowed with a fierce light. She looked up at the creature who was still watching her intently.

  He spoke with what she thought was a Scottish accent, "Tell me…do ye know me?"

  Before she had time to think about it, she heard herself say (in a language she didn't know but was speaking all the same), "Here is what I think, Eamon—you could have gone about that more gently." Instead of being frightened, she wanted to hug him. It's what you did when old friends stopped by. She opened her arms and moved toward him.

  Eamon grabbed one of her arms as she stood and approached him, dragging her toward the yard, "No time for any of that squishy stuff. You've got to get off this hard ground and onto the grass before the full force hits you." He pulled her to her feet, and she followed him willingly.

  He dragged her far out onto the grass. Lizbet felt disoriented. The spot of heat around the medallion grew more and more intense. She looked down and the glow was painfully bright. With a small pop, the sound of a light bulb burning out, the medallion stopped glowing all at once. The stone was no longer red but black. She felt weak and woozy. Colored lights flashed around her. Her arms and legs twitched as she slumped toward the ground.

  The seizure took her completely just before she blacked out.

  ~*~

  Lizbet's head was pounding when she woke to Bobby shaking her, his voice husky with fear, "Lizzie, Lizzie, wake up, Lizzie!"

  "Hey, runt, hey…a little quieter, please." Lizbet sat up and rubbed her eyes. In addition to a whomping headache, her brain was making way too much noise. She heard whispers flickering at the back of her skull, with quick bursts of what felt like memory, but she knew she had never experienced the things those memories showed her. She closed her eyes as she leaned forward to give Bobby a hug. "I just fell asleep in the sun. It's okay. I was really tired."

  "I was shaking you forever, and you didn't wake up. We should call Mom. Or the doctor. You look sick."

  "I just have a headache from the sun, okay? Plus, I hope I'm not going to have the world's worst sunburn." She would have treated him to a dose of the dreaded tickle-fingers to cheer him up, but she was pretty sure that if she did, his squealing would blow her head off. Instead, she gave him a smile and a weak punch on the arm to reassure him. She could see him relax a little. The delicious torture of a tickle session would have to wait for another day. "Come on, let's go inside. I'll make us some hot chocolate."

  "It's too hot for hot chocolate!"

  "It’s never too hot for hot chocolate, but if you think so, then I guess you'll need some ice cream to cool it off."

  Bobby's face lit with a giant smile, and he raced to the house as she followed more slowly
behind him. She turned to look behind for a moment, expecting to see her visitor among the gnomes, but he wasn't there. Then, she looked down at the medallion on her chest to reassure herself that she hadn't dreamed it.

  No. It was real. Once upon a time, a very long time ago, she had begun her series of lifetimes under the name of Morgan…Morgan, whose memories now whispered to her from inside her own head. And then the others, who came after, all of them fluttering away in her brain, floating around the back of her mind with a soft beat like butterfly wings.

  Lizbet watched Bobby spoon up ice cream while he watched TV. She waited for her hot chocolate to cool a little and rubbed her temples in a vain effort to help her achy head. As she did, scenes from hundreds of years ago popped into her consciousness and then, just as quickly, disappeared.

  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a moment, trying to hang on to the flash of memory that was the strongest and most colorful, focusing as hard as she could to push away the sound of the TV and all the other trappings of modern life. The flutter of memory belonged to her first life, Morgan. As she focused on it, she was transported from the family room to a battlefield. She heard herself tell others to bring her the worst of the wounded. Off to the side stood a man in leather armor surveying the damages among his men with sadness. She knew him as Arthur. She opened her eyes again, a little shocked by the emotion she felt in the brief moment of memory.

  What lingered with her was sadness for the long dead, a King named Arthur, who was a human and a friend. And she felt nostalgia also for who she had been then; a healer, a sorceress, a druid, and half-fae. Cool! As soon as I remember what a fae is, I’ll be ready for the funny farm.