Chapter 9

Wynn sat cross legged on the soccer pitch, sketching the practice before him. Spenser had been given the position Gray had offered him. It suited the younger teen. He looked exhilirated as he ran up and down the green rectangle.

He looked up in time to see Gray and Nathan blow by. They looked equally excited as Spenser. Activity made them happy. Running off all the stressors of their lives made them feel better.

Gray hadn't spoken much since that night. He'd come over and had spent the night after he'd dropped everyone off. He'd been shaken as he'd slipped through Wynn's window. The dark headed man had been sitting at his easel when he'd rapped on the glass. Then the blond had confiscated his bed.

Diarrhea of the mouth had followed. Gray had told him everything, of the dragons and their past to them giving the first humans fire. They had passed their magin on to thirteen people; four for the elements, two for the moon and sun, and one to hold them together. One male and one female for each element, the moon and the sun, but only one to hold them together.

He rambled about how when the last of the dragons locked themselves away, the War of the Roses had been going on. Most had long gone to rest, but the last one promised someone to come help find them again. That was who they were looking for, the one to help them.

The Keeper was the one who could sense the magic of the dragons and use it when he needed to. He or she drew on the magic the Scale used to change like Gray had that day. It was hard to do because it changed the physical aspect of the Keeper.

As he was dropping off to sleep, Gray had muttered something about a key. The Key was the one who could help raise the dragons. He'd said they'd found the Key; now all they needed was the lock. He remembered hearing that at some point the night before, but he still wasn't sure what it meant.

Wynn had sat at his easel watching the sleeping the tten for a long while. Gray had to have been tired to say all of that before going to sleep so quickly. After all of that, he had slept hard and peacefully. He hadn't even snored.

He didn't hear the artist painting away at the window. He never heard the etching of the brushes on the canvas or the way had mixed the paint. He didn't see the big, red eye with a serpent's slit.

Wynn had stared at it for a long time before he'd dozed off on his window bench. Some of what Gray said made sense. If what he'd said was true, Wynn was the Key. the dreams he'd been having could be only needed to find the lock. If they found the lock, they could find the hiding places of who they called the ancestors.

He wasn't sure what it all meant, but it had been important to Gray and the others. He wouldn't say anything about it.

Wynn got up and dusted off his pants. He closed his sketchbook and headed back to the school building. He needed a snack and all his money was in the locker. He ventured across the campus without paying attention.

He entered the building and was heading upstairs when someone jerked him into the second floor restrooms. He was hauled to the stall at the end and shoved in. Turning around, he saw Jarrod locking the door.

"Why am I not surprised?" he muttered.

Jarrod turned around and looked at him. Wynn met his gaze evenly. He wasn't as intimidating as he once thought. He was just a boywho wanted someone to love him.

"What did he tell you?" the taller boy asked. Wynn frowned at him, asking him to elaborate without speaking. "I know Gray stayed at your house after the Wyvern Council. What did he tell you?"

Wynn leaned against the wall with a sigh. "He told me about the dragons, Scales, and such. It was so I would understand what was going on."

"Anything else?"

The shorter boy rubbed his forehead roughly. "I'm tired of playing mind games with everyone. Ask me what you want to know."

"Did he tell you about Callins?"

Wynn frowned. He looked up into Jarrod's face. "The Storm sisters did. Why? What is so important about an ex?"

"Callin's was Gray's person, his soulmate if you will. I decided I wanted him, and so I seduced him. He couldn't decide between us. So it became the three of us. He dated both of us openly so we didn't fight. Until the night of the accident. After Callins left, we beat each other to a bloody pulp."

The shorter boy smiled sardonically. "Why are you two always fighting? Over people, this position, life? What is it?"

"My father used to be on the council. Once Stella and Richard Rivers found out about his fraud, they kicked him out."

So that was the falling out? It wasn't a difference of opinion. It was a fraud. Callum Wainscott had defrauded his Scale, and they had found out. As punishment, they kicked him and his family out.

It made sense as to why things between Jarrod and some of the others were so tense. If he and Gray had remained friends even then, it would make his betrayal with Callins that much more hurtful. He would have exnded his friendship with him as well.

"How many of you can perform magic?" Wynn asked. If he could change the conversation, maybe he would have some time to figure some things out.

"We all can, but a select few are chosen to protect the Keeper. They're usually around the same age."

Wynn had so many questions but if he asked him now, he would open a can of worms. He wasn't ready to know everything right now. It would give him way too much to think about. So he decided to change gears.

"Why did you frame me for murder? You know I didn't do it." He had to know he didn't do it. If he'd known Gray had snuck into his house, he'd known where he was the night Christian died.

Jarrod didn't answer immediately. He looked down at the floor as someone came into the bathroom. If they looked closely, they'd see two sets of feet. They'd draw their own conclusions, and the rumor mill would rile up again.

But Wynn didn't care. In a few short months, he'd be back on his way to Italy for school. He could leave it all behind.

"Jarrod?" Wynn said. "Why did you do it?"

The other boy stepped forward once again. He wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him close. Before Wynn could argue, Jarrod dropped his mouth to Wynn's.

He tried to fight, tried to pull away, but Wynn was pulled in. Sucked in was a better term. Everything about Jarrod pulled him in. He was done. Electricity skirted up his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end.

He knew this was different from Gray's kiss. This one was far different. This one felt as if it was real and meant to be. There was a physical spark. It hit the tip of his tongue and traveled to his toes, curling them as he clung to Jarrod.

His response was so different from what he'd expected. Wynn hadn't felt this way in a long time. He held on to Jarrod, kissing him just as hard in return.

When he pulled away, Wynn was breathless. He held on to Jarrod for support, his mind reeling. His knees threatened to give way and that wouldn't be a good look for either one of them.

"Gray asked you out because he knew the truth," Jarrod whispered. His mouth was right by Wynn's ear. "He knew you were mine, and he wanted to make me pay for chasing Callins."

He pressed his cheek to the side of his head, his breath ruffling Wynn's hair. "You have to choose. You can't date both of us. It will destroy the Scale."

Wynn pushed him away. "You may have already done that by implicating me in murder. You know I didn't do it. Why me?"

"You'd better leave it alone, Wynn. I don't want you to get hurt."

The other boy laughed. "You've already given me a concussion. What more can you do?"

Jarrod turned towards the door, hand on the lock. "Please just don't look into things anymore. It could be very dangerous for you. I don't want that on my conscience."

He opened the stall and exited. Wynn waited a minute or so before he followed. He flushed the toilet then walked out adjusting his belt. He washed his hands and headed back to class for his lunch. The rest of the day would hopefully be quiet without incident. But knowing his luck, he wouldn't get that luxury.

~~~~~~~

The road was dark. Lightning flushed two seconds before thunder rumbled off in the distance. If the tale was correct, it was two miles off. It could give the occupants time to get home out of the weather.

But that wouldn't happen. The headlights started to flicker and the engine sputtered. The driver looked at the instruments on the console. No light warned him anything was wrong. He hoped he could get home safely. Forget the weather. The car was more dangerous.

Mile marker 15. The driver negotiated the first turn of the S-curve and he was halfway through the second when the brakes went out. The car shot out of the curve way too fast. The driver did his best to slow it down by taking his foot off the accelerator. But there wasn't enough time. It hit the hairpin turn and went careening off the road.

The car's front end hit a small hill of dirt and flipped twice. It landed on it's hood. Steam rose from the heated metal as the rain began to cool it.

Someone crawled from the wreckage. Gray's battered face looked at his family's car in utter shock. He sat heavily in the mud, unable to do anything. Several minutes passed before sirens were heard in the distance. Two ambulances and several police cars showed up at the scene.

Gray was ushered into an ambulance as rescue services worked to free the other occupants. Only one other survived but he was in critical condition. The second ambulance whisked him away.

Wynn woke up at the sight of the boy crying. He'd had the dream of the wreck two nights ago. Why was he having it again? He'd never had the same dream twice before.

Last time he'd just seen the wreck and the two people killed. This time he saw everything leading up to it and the immediate reactions after it. He hadn't seen Gray or Callins last time. So what was the reason this time?

Like he had countless times before, Wynn got up and went to his easel. Pulling out his charcoal, he started drawing again. There was more detail this time.

As he drew, he knew he had to tell Gray. He knew he needed to know everything if he was going to figure things out. But as he painted Gray's grief in vivid color, a part of him didn't want to. He didn't want to dredge up the past if he'd started to deal with it.

He stared at the new ones, trying to figure out the pattern. He didn't see anything but he wasn't familiar with the case. He barely saw things the others did. Maybe if he talked to Gray he could figure it out.

His phone started jingling. Wynn got up and went to see who was calling him so late. He didn't recognize the number so he almost didn't answer. Something to him he needed to. He swiped his finger across the screen.

"Hello?" he said.

"Wynn?"

He looked at his phone then put it back to his ear. "Jarrod? Do you know what time it is? And how did you get my number?"

"Then why are you up?" Jarrod laughed. It was humorless, as if he was trying to cover something. Wynn noticed he didn't tell how he got his number, but he didn't answer so Jarrod would continue. "Can you come outside?"

Wynn frowned then went to the window. He saw Jarrod standing beside the big tree by his window. He was hunched over in the cool air even though he was wearing a jacket.

"Climb the trellis. I'll meet you on the roof," he said.

He wasn't sure what possessed him to agree to it, but he couldn't back out. He grabbed a dirty but dry towel and a blanket. He opened his window and climbed out just as Jarrod's head popped up over the edge. He stretched the towel on the shingles then sat down.

Jarrod waited, more like hesitated. Wynn wrapped the blanket around his shoulders then looked up at the other teen. He was sporting a fresh bruise on his right eye.

"Are you going to stand all night or will you sit?" he asked. The other boy sat awkwardly, his long legs stretched out in front of him. "How long have you been sitting out here?"

"Since right before your parents went to sleep," he muttered.

He'd been here a couple of hours then. His parents usually went to bed around eleven. It took his mother several hours to get his youngest sister to bed. She was used to being up later than the rest because of her asthma. By the time her medicine kicked in, it was about ten thirty by the time she fell asleep.

Jarrod must have arrived a few minutes before the lights winked out. He had parked his car across the street and had gone to sleep.

"What possessed you to come here? Isn't your house in the better part of town?" Wynn asked.

"Just because a house is huge doesn't make it a home," Jarrod muttered.

"Did you put ice on it?"

The other boy looked at him. He hadn't guessed what had happened based on his movements. Wynn had seen the shiner and was worried about him.

"I had a sports pack in my car from lacrosse and a rag. I let it sit when I parked the car," he said.

"Do you need to lie down?"

Jarrod stared at the other person in shock. His mouth worked but no sound came out. Why? Why was hebeing nice? He'd done nothing but rile him up. Yet, through it all, he was trying to comfort him.

Wynndidn;t know what possessed him to ask that, but it was now out there. He watched Jarrod for a while, and something told him this boy needed him. He could feel it in his gut.

Grabbing his shoulder, he pulled the taller boy down. He was awkward at first, but once he got his legs situated, he put his head on Wynn's leg and adjusted the rest of him.

Wynn felt his blood warm at the touch from the other man. There was no doubt there was something about him that drew the Italian to him despite the things he'd done. He'd been warned that Jarrod would be the end of him, but Wynn didn't think so.

"Wynn?" Jarrod's voice was barely a whisper. The one called looked down. "I'm sorry."

"If you apologize, you have to change. No more lying about anything or attacking me," he replied.

"Let me prove it?" Wynn stared at him, eyebrows raised in question. "Let me take you out to my favorite place?"

"Jarrod, I'm not interested in dating."

"It's not a date!" He lowered his voice when Wynn glanced over his shoulder. "I'm not asking you on a date, not while you're with Gray in name. But let me show you how sorry I am. Then I'll leave you alone."

Wynn stared at him, right into his expectant eyes. Could he trust him enough to do as he asked? Would he truly stop targeting him? He'd already put his head on the chopping block, but did Wynn really know the truth? So far he'd only gotten bits and pieces. What was the real truth?

So instead of answering, he popped Jarrod on the forehead with his fingers though he was careful of his eye. Jarrod sucked in a breath to keep from cursing. He rubbed his head and looked up at the aggressor.

"If you can refrain from being an ass, I'll consider it in two days," he conceded.

A handsome smile crossed his face. This time it reached his sea green eyes lit up with it, even though the bruised skin clouded his right eye. But he looked genuinely happy.

Wynn rubbed his head more fondly than he had ever felt before. Jarrod settled against his thigh, hand gripping his knee gently. They sat like that for several hours, until the first hint of the sunrise peaked over the horizon.

Jarrod got up and waited until Wynn went back inside before he climbed down the trellis once again. The occupant watched the taller, darker headed teen jog across the street and get in his newer model Lexus. Though he'd zoomed off, Wynn watched that spot on the road for a long time. He wondered what in the world he was going to do.