Page 3 of Pinehurst


  Chapter 3

  Okay. That was not what I’d expected. According to Iris, who may or may not be touched in the head—I’ll reserve the right for judgment at a later time; Daimonas have been around as long as the Mageia can remember. They are “dammed souls from Hell that have escaped and must therefore be thrust back into the fiery infernos from whence they came.” My mouth popped open.

  “Evie, the Mageia were put on this Earth to protect the humans from the Daimonas . . . we’re Guardians! We were sent down from the Heavens to destroy all Daimonas on Earth.”

  “I’m an angel?” I breathed.

  Iris grinned. “Not quite. But you are gifted. That's why we're able to do magic, a powerful tool that can help thwart evil.”

  I thought about that. I wasn’t feeling so powerful at the moment. In fact, I've never felt less powerful. I still couldn’t believe my dad would have kept this from me.

  “So if they were thrown into Hell, then how did they get out?” I asked.

  “They’re not all out.” Iris explained. “And we don't know for sure how they escape. Evil seeps into the world every day, Evie. It's our job to destroy it.”

  I let that sink in for a minute. “Okay, I’m leaving.” I jumped up. I was exercising my right to believe my previous assumption. Iris was more than touched—she was crazy! There was no way Mageians were demon hunters.

  “Evie wait! I’m not lying!” she beseeched.

  “I believe you believe that Iris, but I—”

  “I can prove it!” She grabbed onto my hand, holding it tightly. Her eyes were wide with desperation.

  “How?”

  “Your father, he’s legendary! He’s killed more Daimonas than anyone!”

  I took my hand back gently. “My father is a government diplomat. The most danger he’s subjected to is a paper cut.” And my wrath once I get my hands on him. Poor Iris, she’d probably cracked up after being dumped off here and forgotten, a fate that would not befall me.

  “Ask anyone!” Iris ran to her door and flung it open. She looked up and down the hall. “Aubree, Gillian, come here.”

  A thin girl with dark eyes and hair peeked into the room. Iris grabbed her arm and yanked her inside.

  “What’s going on?” A tall, Barbie-doll type girl followed behind her.

  “Aubree, Gillian, this is Evie . . . Evie Hollyander.”

  Aubree was a little slower than Iris had been but not by much. I actually saw the light click on. Her eyes grew wide. “George Hollyander’s daughter?” she gasped.

  Gillian, who for now I’ll just refer to as Barbie, became flushed all of a sudden.

  “Oh my gosh!” Aubree gushed. “Like, your dad is SO my hero. I can only dream of being such a bad-ass.”

  “You mean, you can only dream of marrying one.” “Barbie” tossed herself onto Iris’ bed, looking starry-eyed. “It’s not like you’re ever going to have to actually fight.”

  “See?” Iris looked smug. “I told you he was a legend!”

  What the hell was going on? Was everyone here crazy? “Excuse me.” I made a beeline back to my room, found my phone under the chair, and called the only other “credible” person I knew . . . Gwendolyn.

  “Hi, Mom.” I flung myself into my chair and threw my head back. I listened to the “darling it’s been so long . . .” the, “I’ve been meaning to call you but I can’t possibly pull myself away from my obligations . . .” speech for the umpteenth time.

  “Yeah, Mom, it’s fine. That’s not why I’m calling. Listen, I’m at Pinehurst—”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear as Gwendolyn squealed loudly with excitement. Both my parents had graduated from Pinehurst back in the day. It was one of my mom’s favorite topics of conversation. The endless social events and boyfriends that broke up the monotony of her school day were all she spoke about. I'd often wondered why my parents had never sent me here from the beginning. With my “behavior” in question, I would have thought it easier on my dad.

  Unfortunately my mom's voice invaded my musings. She was currently gushing about an old boyfriend of hers. Gwendolyn was one of those extremely beautiful, and extremely popular, girls—if only I inherited some of her good looks. I was pretty in my own right, but I had more of my dad’s genes. The wavy red hair, the deep blue eyes, the sensitive Irish skin. Luckily, the “powers that be” graced me with her curvy body—a feature that did not go unnoticed to the male eye.

  My mom, however, was truly a supermodel. She had luscious, chocolaty brown hair and eyes that were so dark you felt as though you were looking into an abyss. Add to that a perfect figure, and you’ve got a package women envied and men found irresistible—it was almost embarrassing.

  “Yes, I know that’s where you and dad met.” I sighed, sinking further into my chair. “I’ve only heard this story a million times.”

  She had her pick of guys but settled on my dad—if you can call it that. My dad was beyond handsome, captain of the football team, All American Mageian volleyball champion, and senior pick to the Mageian Diplomatic Advisers office—where he interned and eventually earned the position he holds today. He was a stud. Apparently, my mom still thought so by the way she was reminiscing about him. Interesting . . .

  “Dad didn’t tell you he was sending me here?” I interrupted her trip down memory lane. Honestly, I didn’t know why I even asked. George didn’t consult Gwendolyn about anything, especially when I was concerned. He felt mom was a little too “free” to be a good role model for me.

  “Listen, Mom. I have to ask you something very important about dad.” My mom was known to ramble. Usually, if I stayed quiet for a half hour or so, she’d eventually run out of thing to say about herself. I didn’t have the patience today.

  “Mom, I really don’t have much time, I just need to ask you a quick question. Is dad some kind of Mageian Guardian?”

  She stopped. It was a first for my mom. I checked my phone to see if we were still connected.

  “Mom, are you there?”

  Now I was quiet. For some time, I just . . . listened. I listened to the “how did you find out?” And the “oh Evie, there’s so much you just don’t understand . . . you’re so young. We didn’t want to worry you about it. Your father has everything under control.”

  I was awestruck. I sat in my chair and stared at the wall after my mom “let me go.” Who were these people? I felt like I didn’t know either of my parents. How could they keep something like this from me? And how could my mom act so blasé about it? Well, that wasn’t such a shocker—but my dad?

  I looked out my window and stared down at the kids heading off to dinner. I was sure they all knew their parents. I’d bet their parents hadn’t lied to them their whole lives. I’ll bet their fathers weren’t legendary Mageian Guardians who destroyed demons from Hell! And if they were, I’d bet they wouldn’t keep that from them.

  Suddenly, the four walls around me appeared to be closing in. I had to get out of here. I rushed down the stairs and out the door into a crowd of hungry students. I took in a deep, calming breath. I followed along into a large dining hall within Building K that was so cleverly referred to as “The Kitchen.” It was packed with students.

  “Evie! Over here!”

  I looked around. Iris, Aubree, and Barbie were waving at me. I made my way over to them, weaving in and out of traffic. They were already in line and had no qualms about pulling me in with them.

  “Hey, are you alright?” Iris looked legitimately concerned.

  “I’m fine.” I masked the lie with a smile. I was so not fine.

  “That has to be totally weird not knowing your dad’s a Guardian and all,” Aubree commented, dodging Barbie’s elbow.

  “Aubree! I thought we agreed not to say anything,” she growled through her teeth, still maintaining a “Colgate smile.”

  “It’s okay. Really, don’t worry about it.” I waved them off.

  “For sure, you should be more worried about why your dad stuck you here.” I cou
ld tell Aubree was the loose cannon in this group. She’d say whatever was on her mind. I’d have to remember not to say anything I didn’t want thrown back at me.

  “Aubree!” Iris was trying to rein her in.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, even though I wasn’t sure I could handle the answer.

  “I mean . . .” she spoke like she was stating the obvious, “ . . . why wait until now to send you to Pinehurst? Your dad has obviously wanted to keep his identity secret from you. So why send you here, now, where you’d be sure to learn about the Daimonas, about him. It doesn’t make any sense.

  She was right. I half-heartedly took a tuna sandwich, some chips, and a soda. I followed the girls to a table in the corner and sat down.

  Why did my dad send me here, now? I mean, why not just let me finish high school where I was? I’d still be in the dark about him.

  “Oh my God, here comes Roland.” Barbie’s face was all a-glow.

  I shifted my attention to the left and fell into suit with the rest of the female population. My mind went completely blank. All I saw was a tall, blond, blue-eyed hunk of man walking my way. Well, maybe man was a stretch, but it wasn’t that far off.

  “Roland Vandenberg.” Two of the sweetest words whispered into my ear. Barbie spoke them slow, letting each syllable roll off her tongue like she was sharing a bite of the tastiest, most delectable dessert ever—yum!

  Roland commanded the room. His presence was felt before he even walked past. And as he approached, a smell of what could be none other than extremely expensive cologne hit me. I drank it in.

  He stood tall, maybe six feet or so. He walked with an air of confidence that none of the idiots at my old school could have ever pulled off on their best day.

  He caught me gawking, and the corners of his mouth turned up into the cutest crooked smile I’d ever seen. There was a large group of guys walking with him, shouting something about the match they’d just won, but my brain wouldn't let me process the details. Roland passed by, giving me a backward glance. I blushed.

  “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Roland Vandenberg just smiled at you!” Barbie was freaking out. “You are sooo lucky!”

  “Who is Roland Vandenberg?” I asked, trying not to get too excited myself. I mean, he was totally hot beyond reason but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy that usually looked my way.

  “Roland Vandenberg is only a ten on the hot-o-meter.” Barbie squealed.

  “The what?” I gave Aubree a questioning look.

  “The hot-o-meter.” She rolled her eyes.

  Iris laughed. “Looks, potential, money! To be a ten, you have to have all three. He’s a total catch.”

  Okay, talk about shallow. “What ever happened to inner beauty?” I scoffed.

  The three of them laughed like I’d just told the funniest joke they’d ever heard.

  I ate my dinner, listening to their conversation half-heartedly. I smiled at all the right parts, nodding where appropriate. My mind was elsewhere. With considerable effort, I’d pushed Roland Vandenberg aside and tried to concentrate on something Aubree had said. Why did my dad send me here?

  I walked back to the dorm with the girls and made my excuse of needing a good night’s sleep before starting classes tomorrow. They nodded in understanding, and with promises of hanging out at lunch, we said good night.

  I flopped down on the bed and mulled over my day.

  First, my dad had me dropped off in this stuffy, overpriced school with no warning. He’d subjected me to nearly an hour-long lecture on my “bad behavior and non-magical abilities”—courtesy of an old hag who enjoyed stomping on the emotional well being of her students.

  Second, I’d learned that George was not a government diplomat like I’d been told my whole life. He was, apparently, a highly trained and efficient Guardian for the Mageia. A legend they’d said!

  Third, and lastly, my mom was taking the predictable, and less emotional position—“don’t worry about it,” she had said.

  I had a feeling I’d need an aspirin soon. And I thought my biggest problem would be that I'd have to listen to more of Ms. Leech’s crap insults and threats.

 
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