FICTIONChildren's Fiction Classic Literature Comic and Graphic Books Drama Fantasy Free General Fiction Historical Fiction Horror Humor Mystery/Crime Poetry Romance
NONFICTIONArt, Music, & Entertainment Biography Business Children/Young Adult Cooking & Food Crafts, Hobbies & Home Education Family/Relationships General Nonfiction Geography Health/Fitness History Humor Language Arts Personal Finance Politics/Government Reference Self Improvement Social Science
Current Events Ethics Feminist Folklore Gender Studies Human Rights Multi-Cultural Philosophy Sociology Women's StudiesSpiritual/Religion Sports Technology/Science Travel True Crime
#1 New York Times bestselling author Kresley Cole introduces The Arcana Chronicles, post-apocalyptic tales filled with riveting action, the dark mysticism of Tarot cards, and breathtaking romance.
She could save the world?or destroy it.
Reader Rating: Not rated (0 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating: Not rated
DAY 6 B.F.
"How are you feeling?" Mom asked with an appraising eye. "You sure you're up for this?"
I finished my hair, pasted on a smile, and lied through my teeth, "Definitely." Though we'd been over this, I patiently said, "The docs told me that settling back into a normal routine might be good for someone like me." Well, at least three out of my five shrinks had.
The other two insisted that I was still unstable. A loaded gun. Trouble with the possibility of rubble.
"I just need to get back to school, around all my friends."
Whenever I quoted shrinks to her, Mom relaxed somewhat, as if it was proof that I'd actually listened to them.
I could remember a lot of what the docs said--because they'd made me forget so much of my life before the clinic.
With her hands clasped behind her back, Mom began strolling around my room, her gaze flickering over my belongings--a pretty, blond Sherlock Holmes sniffing for any secrets she didn't yet know.
She'd find nothing; I'd already hidden my contraband in my book bag.
"Did you have a nightmare last night?"
Had she heard me shoot upright with a cry? "Nope."
"When you were catching up with your friends, did you confide to anyone where you really were?"
Mom and I had told everyone that I'd gone to a special school for "deportment." After all, you can't prep a daughter too early for those competitive sororities in the South.
In reality, I'd been locked up at the Children's Learning Center, a behavioral clinic for kids. Also known as Child's Last Chance.
"I haven't told anyone about CLC," I said, horrified by the idea of my friends, or my boyfriend, finding out.
Especially not him. Brandon Radcliffe. With his hazel eyes, movie-star grin, and curling light-brown hair.
"Good. It's our business only." She paused before my room's big wall mural, tilting her head uneasily. Instead of a nice watercolor or a retro-funk design, I'd painted an eerie landscape of tangled vines, looming oaks, and darkening skies descending over hills of cane. I knew she'd considered painting over the mural but feared I'd reach my limit and mutiny.
"Have you taken your medicine this morning?"
"Like I always do, Mom." Though I couldn't say my bitter little pills had done much for my nightmares, they did stave off the delusions that had plagued me last spring.
Those terrifying hallucinations had been so lifelike, leaving me temporarily blinded to the world around me. I'd barely completed my sophomore year, brazening out the visions, training myself to act like nothing was wrong.
In one of those delusions, I'd seen flames blazing across a night sky. Beneath the waves of fire, fleeing rats and serpents had roiled over Haven's front lawn, until the ground looked like it was rippling.
In another, the sun had shone--at night--searing people's eyes till they ran with pus, mutating their bodies and rotting their brains. They became zombielike blood drinkers, with skin that looked like crinkled paper bags and oozed a rancid slime. I called them bogeymen. . . .
My short-term goal was simple: Don't get exiled back to CLC. My long-term goal was a bit more challenging: Survive the rest of high school so I could escape to college.
"And you and Brandon are still an item?" Mom almost sounded disbelieving, as if she didn't understand why he would still be going out with me after my three-month absence.
"He'll be here soon," I said in an insistent tone. Now she'd gotten me nervous.
No, no. All summer, he'd faithfully texted me, though I'd only been allowed to respond twice a month. And ever since my return last week, he'd been wonderful--my cheerful, smiling...
Poison PrincessBy: Kresley Cole