"I did what?!"
Wynn stared at Helena over the breakfast table Monday morning. His cheek was still swollen and the back of his head throbbed dully. His mother had nearly had a coronary when she had seen him Friday afternoon. It had taken everything she had had in her and a lot of persuading by their father to keep hell from breaking loose.
That weekend had gone by quickly. Wynn had spent it cooped up in his room as he had put his portfolio together. Helena had asked him to go out with her and a couple of her friends, but he had declined. He had been like a deer in the headlights when he had come down for snacks and his father had caught him. They had stared at each other for a few moments before he had scurried back upstairs. He had ignored him the rest of the weekend, and his father hadn't asked what had been wrong.
The only time he had had any notice of the outside world was when his mother had dragged him to morning mass. They were a very devout Catholic family, and Francesca made sure her family was at church every Sunday morning at 8:00 a.m. sharp. After hearing the sermon, they said their prayers and hurried to have brunch at the cozy little diner owned by the family of Helena's friend Maggie.
After that simple three hour delay, Wynn had hidden from the world. He had drawn like his life had depended on it. Almost every one of his drawings had a fairy tale them to it. Princess in distress. Brave knight. Dragons. They were all tied together by the stories Wynn had been told in his childhood by his Nonna Esposito. This was all he knew to draw. And he had to be alone to do it or he would mess up.
So for Helena to blab important news at the breakfast table, news that he didn't remember agreeing to meant he should probably start paying attention to what went on around him. There was no telling what he was going to get himself into in the near future if he didn't.
Wynn's wrists went limp over his eggs as he thought about what he had done on Friday. He had gone to school and had kept to himself. The only thing of pertinence he could remember was when Jarrod had cornered him. That had been the moment he had gotten the black eye and the goose egg on the back of his head.
His younger brothers were using their forks as swords. One caught the light and flashed silver. In that brief glint of light, he remembered something. Silver and human combined into one. He remembered seeing Gray and that girl Autumn walking into the library. He remembered being spoken to and replying, but he couldn't remember what the topic had been. All he saw when he thought back to those brief moments was silver and human flesh.
Wynn looked Helena dead in the face. "What did you see?" He winced when she waved her spoon. She had seen the same thing he had. "What did he ask? What did I say?"
Helena dipped her spoon back into her Coco Puffs. "Gray asked if you would consider going out with him. You said yes, albeit a little distractedly. He said he'd pick you up at seven-thirty."
Her brother wasn't thrilled as he got up and took his plate and cup to the kitchen to rinse them out. He went to his room for his bag and jacket. He stared at himself in the mirror for a long while as he tried to decide which side he would show to the world.
A black sedan pulled up in the driveway. Wynn watched Gray step out of the driver's seat and walked up to the house. Helena undoubtedly had already answered the doorbell on the first ring. She would have allowed him in because this would be great fun for her. He had better go down before his mother served their guest a huge breakfast. They would never get out if she did.
Gray was talking to Wynn's father when Wynn came downstairs. He barely saw the boy before the mop of curls disappeared into the kitchen. He heard Wynn's voice speaking flawless Italian. His tenor was followed by an alto that was clearly his mother's. He didn't have his father's baritone or his mother's sing-song alto. Wynn was a happy medium.
"Are you sure that's all you need?" Wynn's mother spoke English as she followed her son into the entryway. Gray wasn't surprised Francesca Esposito was tall and languid. Wynn had inherited her trim figure and bright eyes.
Wynn shoved his feet into his shoes. "It's quite all right. I don't ever eat at the school anyway."
Francesca fidgeted a little, tiny hands clasped together in front of her. "Wynn, you seem to be losing weight."
Helena laughed. "I don't see it. If anything, he's gaining it."
Wynn's eyes were sharp as he looked sideways at his sister. "Don't start with me. Unless you want me to tell how many boxes of Hostess Ding Dongs you have in the freezer."
"Wynn. Helena," their father scolded. Helena made a face regardless of her father's reprimand. "Thank you, Gray, for taking an interest in my son. He needs some friends."
"Papa!" Wynn protested. There was a bit of color mottling his cheeks. He grabbed Gray's sleeve and tugged him towards the door. "Let's go before anyone else decides to act uncouth."
He rolled his eyes as his younger sister ran half naked through the kitchen and hallway. He jerked the door open and stepped out onto the porch.
Gray said his goodbyes and followed Wynn outside. He unlocked the car and sat in the driver's side. He glanced at his guest, but Wynn didn't seem too keen on speaking. Gray couldn't help the laugh that built up at the stubbornness on the other boy's face.
Wynn was suddenly cranky. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been. He had done his best to keep everyone at arm's length because he hadn't wanted any complications when he left. No one was going to make him stay when he really wanted to go to art school back in his home country. With him "dating" Gray, people were going to assume he would stay here. Marriage was legal for two men as well. Fantasies would go out of control.
He didn't want to deal with this. Why hadn't he listened when someone had spoken to him? Why had he simply given an off-the-cuff answer? He could just kick himself.
He looked up just as they turned on to Jefferson Street. "Stop at the deli please," he requested. He may be cranky but he still had manners.
Gray didn't argue and effortlessly parallel parked. Wynn slid out the car silently and walked into the building. He was gone for a brief time when he returned with a deli lunch sack and two large coffees. He once again slid in quietly and put the drinks in the cup holder.
"I didn't know what kind of coffee you liked so I got cream and sugar," he said. He buckled up and reached down for the black bag Gray didn't realize he had. "I don't like greasy food of the school cafeteria. It upsets my stomach."
"I didn't ask," Gray replied. He looked over his shoulder as he pulled out of the parking spot.
"You were thinking it."
The driver didn't deny it as he continued to the school. He had already called everyone. They were going to meet them in the parking lot. Thirteen people were going to be crowded around Wynn in a mere ten minutes, and he wasn't going to like it. Wynn wasn't the type to be fussed over, and he was going to consider this fussing.
"Are you feeling better?" Wynn asked suddenly. Gray glanced over briefly before fixing his eyes back on the road. "I may have been in my own little world Friday, but I saw everything. You looked like you were in pain. I won't mention the rest, but I can't overlook someone in pain."
Gray expelled a shaky breath as he tightened his fingers on the steering wheel. This was a new predicament. Normal humans weren't supposed to be able see when his physical form changed. It was part of the magic that governed his people. It was easy to tell there was a difference, but to see through the cloak was altogether different. His friends weren't going to be happy to find out their magic had failed.
No one knew how excruciating the pain actually was. His entire bone structure changed whenever it happened, making his face more prominent and sharp. It pulled on the power from those around him, and if he wasn't careful, he could drain them. Or worse. It could kill him. It always drained him, forcing him to take the brunt of the consequences that always came with magic. He was lethargic for days. Even now his body felt heavy, like his bones were made of metal.
Though he felt like he could sleep for the next two days, it hadn't stopped him from picking up Wynn. He had looked forward to this morning while he had been laid up in bed.
Wynn said something to him in Italian that effectively pulled him back to the present.
"Did you just call me a low-down swine?" he asked.
"No," Wynn denied, and Gray believed him enough to glance at him again. The cup was pressed against his lips. "I called you a deaf American. Big difference."
Gray laughed as the other boy took a drink. "Are you always so eloquent?"
"Do you always brood?"
"People are mistaken about you."
Wynn looked at him. "You're not as gentle as you look. I may have been slightly concussed, but I saw you stand up to Jarrod. I didn't say anything in front of the others because I thought it wasn't their business at the time. I'm sure they know now."
The blond boy's throat was tight as he pulled into his parking spot. "Why didn't you?"
"It wasn't my place or my business. But if you think I'm going to be followed by your twelve closest friends, you're sadly mistaken."
With the car parked, Gray turned in his seat. "We're dating. They're only trying to help."
"We're only dating in name. I don't need their help due to it. I didn't hear what you were asking until this morning, but I won't abide by this. I'll see you in class." Wynn shot out of the car and pushed through the dozen waiting on them.
Autumn wrapped on the window. "Gray, what was that about?"
He stepped out of his car, watching the brunette walk away. "He refuses to be guarded by us."
"Won't that put him at odds with everyone?" a blond headed boy asked.
"It will obviously put him in danger, Spenser, but we can't control him."
"You do know we need him. We have to keep him safe so we can figure out how he knows so much," Winter reminded him. She was Autumn's younger sister, and the exact opposite of the other girl. She was black headed compared to her sister's auburn tresses. The only thing that made them sisters other than name was their eyes.
Gray nodded. "I know, but it's also free choice. If he doesn't choose it, there's no point."
~~~~
Grahamville Heights was used to misty nights. It made for good romance when it was clear with patches of mist here and there. Young couples would sneak out and go to any secluded area they could find to have some fun away from prying eyes.
That night was completely different. Instead of romance filling the air, it was fear. Fear in the darkness. Shortness of breath. The mist was transformed from a romantic getaway to one the town would never forget for a very long while. It would be the subject of mysteries such as the Black Dahlia and the Winchester Mystery house.
He was dreaming as a blood curdling scream lit the night followed by eerie silence. Goose pimples rose along every inch of his flesh until he thought that was all he was made of. One minute he was Wynn Esposito. The next he was something completely different.
He was looking out at the street ahead of him when he was wrenched from the first person view to the third. It was as if his body were there one moment, then a force greater than him forced him out. He was tossed about like a rag doll.
He saw him. It was a man. No… it was a boy. A boy that went to school with him. Christian… something. He couldn't remember his last name, but he had seen him around school with the other members of the football team.
This wasn't school. This was the south end of Macon Park, the area closest to the creek. It was at the far end of the city, away from the hustle and bustle of the main streets. No one would be out here. The football team used it for extra practices when they couldn't use the field for reasons such as it was being mowed or repainted.
What didn't make sense was why he was still here late at night. All practices usually ended when the street lights came on. No one would be out here this late because the park didn't have lighting like the ballparks two streets over.
Christian was walking back to his car with his bag draped lazily over his shoulder. He wasn't expecting anyone. He was doing what he normally did. Wynn wished he could see what time it was. He was not very adept at telling the time by the position of the moon. He knew which was north, but that was about it.
A voice called out to him, but Wynn didn't recognize it. Christian did, for he turned around and a smile graced his face. He was really handsome when he did that, but for the most part he was just stern. Wynn also couldn't make out who the person was because he or she was still in the shadows. He could see Christian due to the flashlight on his phone. He had memorized all of his classmates' builds and figures so he knew instinctively this person wasn't someone at their school.
Christian's smile never faltered as he talked to the unnamed person. He knew him or her very well. He was too relaxed. If someone had come out of the shadows to talk to Wynn, he would have jumped sky high. All of it told the third person that this was going to go really well or really bad.
The latter turned out to be the truth. The person with his or her back to Wynn attacked Christian. He dropped his phone but it landed with the flash pointing up. Christian fought his attacker with all the force he had. He threw his bag at the person and turned to run. It was a brief deterrent, but his attacker was at him again.
Christian didn't get far. He was drop-kicked from behind and caught as he fell forward. With the back firmly against Wynn's prying eyes, the assailant used his or her hands to strangle the boy. The quarterback tried to fight, flailing his head backwards hoping to make contact, but it was no use. Whoever it was already had a firm grip on the kid and had no intention of letting him go. It wasn't an easy task to strangle someone to death, but with Christian on his knees, it took no time.
Wynn jolted awake as Christian breathed his last. Instead of seeing his bright happiness at school in a mere few hours, they were going to be viewing him in a casket. Those happy sapphire eyes were going to be closed to his parents and the rest of the people he held dear.
He scrambled to his easel and grabbed his pastels. hastily , he drew everything he had seen and heard. The crime scene, Christian, the mysterious murderer, the park. He drew it all in extreme detail. He had to. He had always had dreams, but none had ever been this vivid. This is real. No one had ever been as close to him as Christian was. They weren't friends, had barely been acquaintances, but Christian had been nice to everyone around him.
Now he was dead.
Wynn sat staring at the four huge papers that hung on his bay window when he was finished. He didn't know who to tell. Who was going to believe he had dreamed it all? No one would listen to the ramblings of an art student. It didn't make any sense.
What made less sense was who would kill an innocent boy. That stuck with Wynn more than the murders. He didn't think Christian had been involved in anything illegal because no one had heard anything of the sort, but that didn't mean anything. But it hadn't looked like a hate crime. It had looked premeditated. Someone had planned it. Someone had known his schedule by heart and had planned to murder him when he would have been by himself.
Wynn picked up a charcoal stick and sketched the assailant in black and white. He could get more definition like this rather than with pastels. They were going to need more to go on than a simple outline. The more information they knew, the more they could help.
He stopped mid-stroke and stared at the page. Who was he really doing this for? No one was going to believe he had seen this in his sleep. No one would believe he had known Christian because he had only been enrolled at the school for almost a month. They would know he was somewhat friends with Gray and few others, but no one would believe anything else.
Why was he doing this?
Grief counselors were abundant when the news broke to the students that morning. The radio and news stations had been very silent about it until school had started. No one wanted any more accidents as many teenagers drove to school or were driven by the siblings who could drive.
Wynn sat in his homeroom and listened to many girls wail in front of him. He wasn't concerned about them. They were just upset that Christian wasn't around to flatter them. The person who warranted his attention sat two rows ahead of him with his head pressed against the wall. The two men in front of and behind him looked just as distraught.
When the news had broken thirty minutes ago, everyone had been sitting in homeroom ready to start their day. Many had been doing homework they had forgotten to do the night before. Gray, Artie and Nathan had been discussing something that Wynn hadn't been privy to, not that it had bothered him. So when they had been told over the loudspeaker what had happened, wails went up all over school.
Wynn had watched Gray and his friends the entire time. He would have been the one to hold any and all answers. Fortunately, Gray had known nothing. Now one of his closest friends was dead.
His eyes slid around the room when he was certain no one was going anywhere. Everyone else was grief-stricken save two. Wynn felt for them but he hadn't known Christian very well. On the other hand, Jarrod Wainscott had gone to school with the deceased boy for the last thirteen years. He should be as distraught as everyone else, but he wasn't.
When he focused on Jarrod, he realized that Jarrod wasn't just grieving like the others. He actually looked scared, almost like he had seen a ghost. Wynn knew what that feeling meant. He had lived it. Did Jarrod know something that he wasn't telling anyone else? Could he have been involved somehow? Wynn shook his head on that thought. Jarrod was a bully but he wasn't capable of killing someone. So what had Wynn just seen play across his face?
"The police are offering a reward for anyone who has any information concerning this troubling matter. In the meantime, we will keep you updated on arrangements for the visitation and funeral." Principal Hilton signed off after a slight curse that they probably weren't meant to hear and that he couldn't hide.
Jarrod made a beeline for the hallway, and Wynn watched him go. There was nothing he could do for him anyway. Instead, he got up and went over to the other three he knew would listen to him.
Nathan looked up as he stood over them. "Now's not the time, Wynn. we just lost a friend of ours."
"I know," he said. He looked over his shoulder at their homeroom teacher before he continued. "I have something you may want to see. Not now. They're at my house right now. I didn't want to bring them in case something else happened and we were required to give statements or something."
Artie frowned through his tears. "What are you talking about?"
Wynn knelt between the three of them and looked up. He lowered his voice so no one else would be able to hear him. "I have something I need you to see that may be able to help in this instance. I can't explain it, not here at least. We need to meet somewhere so I can show you." He was met with distant stares. "You have got to believe me."
Nathan shook his head. "No we don't."
"What if they try to rule it as a suicide? What will you do then?"
"They won't do that," Artie argued. His voice was getting louder as they spoke.
"He was found by himself in his car dead. They will try to spin the story in any way to make the young bisexual student look suicidal."
"It won't matter. No one will listen to us. Why do you even care? You're not staying here when we graduate."
"That's enough." Gray lifted his head and wiped at his nose. When he looked at Wynn, his eyes were bloodshot from crying. "What do you have to prove anything?"
"Do I have any reason to lie to you?"
They stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Gray was trying to figure out if Wynn was lying, and Wynn was trying to judge Gray on how intelligent he really was. No one else would believe Wynn, but Gray was the only one who would.
"We'll meet at the public library at ten. No one will be there that late. We can see what you've prepared then." His tone brooked no arguments as he lay his head back on his desk.
Wynn looked at the other two then stood. They were appeased for the moment, but if his drawings didn't sway them, he wasn't sure what they'd do to him.