The Changeling's Source (Evedon Legacy Book 1) Read online

  The

  Changeling’s

  Source

  BY: SARAH LYNN GARDNER

  This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events were created from the author’s imagination. The demons in this story are purely products of the author’s imagination. Names, places, and events are all used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2020 by Sarah Lynn Gardner

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author.

  Cover Designer: Hannah Sternjakob

  https://www.hannah-sternjakob-design.com/

  Find the author on her Facebook page: Author Sarah Lynn Gardner

  Contents

  Safe Spot

  Bitter Heart

  Conversation Murderer

  Emma

  Last Spring

  Jack Knows

  Schedule Change

  Cute and Cuddly

  Forced Arrangement

  Muscle Memory

  “I don’t bite”

  Guilt

  Lit Partner

  Queen of Diamonds

  Fragile Family

  Almost Jealous

  “I do too”

  Somewhere Else to Be

  Desperate Superhero

  Uneasy Feeling

  Coming Home

  Paradise

  Changeling

  Drama

  Missing

  Chiara

  The Truth

  Tripped

  Imps

  Waiting Rooms

  A Sense of Foreboding

  “I’ve Been Here Before”

  Osmund

  Dragon and Sword

  Beauty in Being Possessed

  Darkness Stole My Vision

  Epilogue: December

  What happened in the spring did not stay in the spring. It followed me into October...

  Safe Spot

  The middle of the night may have been a vampire’s friend, but it certainly was not a changeling’s.

  Once again, the same harrowing nightmare woke me, and I rose filled with dark source. I quickly reached for the lamp on the nightstand and turned on the light. Grabbing one of my painted rocks, I directed my excess dark source into it, and the stone crumbled all over the nightstand.

  I brushed the dust off my hand, collapsed on my bed, and stared at the blank ceiling.

  I hated my source—the magical energy growing inside me as a changeling alva. Source grew out of my emotions, deepening them. Either positive or negative, source gave me the ability to destroy or improve. Which probably sounded cool to a natural human. But lately, all my source was bitter. Lately, all I could do was destroy.

  I reached for the lamp and turned it off, then rolled onto my side.

  Sleep didn’t come. Instead, night’s darkness whispered lies.

  No one loved me. Even Jerrick chose Samantha instead of me. Maybe I should take in a demon. Then I wouldn’t be alone.

  “I don’t mind the loneliness,” I whispered.

  This truth was my lie.

  No amount of loneliness would ever make it okay to take in a demon.

  Six years ago, Dad was murdered by his demon-possessed best friend. Six months ago, I was almost killed by my demon-possessed best guy-friend.

  So maybe I really hated loneliness, but it was better than betrayal, safer than abandonment...

  I fiddled with the charm of my necklace, the last gift Dad had given me. Daughter of God was inscribed on it.

  “If there really is a god,” I whispered, remembering how strongly Dad believed in one, “why didn’t He protect you, Dad?”

  If only I could have saved Dad.

  The morning of Dad’s funeral six years ago, I snuck down to the pond near the end of our driveway. Grief consumed me with dark source.

  Maybe, if I could rid myself of the dark and fill myself with positive, I could use it to bring Dad back. Hope grew inside me like a wildfire, consuming my thoughts.

  So I found the old tree with numerous dead limbs, then shifted all my dark source into it. The old tree groaned under my hands, sap leaking out like tears from its broken cracks, but it didn’t die like I’d expected. Instead, it wept with me. Afterward, I ran down the street to Jack’s house. He saw me from the window and answered on the first knock.

  “Want to catch frogs?” I asked.

  Jack gave me a weird look. He was already in his Sunday best. So was I.

  “Mom, Tara and I are catching frogs,” he shouted. Before Mrs. Spalding answered, he stepped out and closed the door.

  We walked around the pond, pushing aside reeds, careful not to fall in the water. Jack refrained from his usual jokes. We didn’t even try to catch the frogs when we found them.

  There one sat—a huge, slick bullfrog with its eyes a fraction of a centimeter above the water. Did it know grief? Did it even know love? Maybe the frog was better off alone, then it would never know grief.

  As I spent time with Jack surrounded by nature, that thought fled and positive source surged.

  A few minutes later, I drove with the Spaldings over to their church, where the funeral was located. It was the only church I’d ever been inside, and I always loved the peace I felt there. I raced out of the van and inside. Few people had arrived yet, and only Mom was in the chapel.

  Ashen, Mom leaned against the coffin, using it to keep her on her feet. Hopefully, I could bring a smile to her face by bringing Dad back.

  I raced over to them and gripped the casket. Lying still, eyes closed, Dad looked as if he slept. He was dressed in his white coat and scrubs. Healing people had been his passion. Unlike me, he and Mom were pure alvs and stored their source, which activated a supernatural ability. Both could heal.

  Mom couldn’t save him. Why did I think my positive source could?

  Still, I picked up his hand and shared what I had in me with him, as I’d done so many times in life. My changeling source could blossom so powerfully. Dad always said when he had a bit of Tara’s source inside him, he was able to help people better.

  For a moment, it looked as if Dad’s chest rose, as if he breathed again.

  Someone set a hand on my shoulder. When I looked up, Dad’s spirit stood beside me.

  That was not how the memory happened. My brother Holden had been the one standing by me. I was dreaming.

  “No,” I said. “You’re supposed to come back.”

  Dad smiled warmly. “Tara, the memory of my love lasts forever.”

  My tall, athletic dad morphed into my much shorter, glasses-wearing stepfather, Daniel.

  With a gasp for breath, like I was coming out of water, I jerked myself awake, then lay in bed, sweating, covers thrown aside. A new surge of dark source circulated in my chest, but I was too torn to do anything with it.

  At some point, I’d crossed the line of restless tossing into a deep enough sleep where my memories turned to dreams.

  My body felt weak. The vision of Dad rocked me to the core. I covered my face. It was my fault for thinking about him. My love lasts forever. Dad had told me that at bedtime so many times.

  I turned onto my side and peered into the darkness. Even my murdered dad was scolding me for being a brat to my stepfather.

  When I closed my eyes to sleep, remnant images of my earlier nightmare were still there.

  Jerrick’s eyes glowed with demon fire. He raised a pillow, ready to smother me again.

  Breathing sharply, I once again reached for the lamp, my
hand shaking, and turned on the light.

  Trying to sleep was pointless. I really needed to, though. I had a presentation tomorrow afternoon.

  The door creaked open. “Tara?” A high-pitched, sweet voice invaded my solitude. My little sister Oops, formally named Ashley, peered at me from the door.

  She hurried forward, glancing at the rubble on the nightstand. “Can’t you sleep?”

  “The rocks gave me nightmares.”

  Oops gave me her most motherly sigh and patted my head. “Want to come sleep with me?” she asked. “I think it would make you feel much better.” My five-year-old sister smiled hopefully. Born from a pure alv and natural human, Oops was also a changeling, but she wasn’t nearly as ornery. “I think Mommy and Daddy would say it’s okay.”

  Mom and Daniel had been trying to get her to sleep on her own.

  But if there was one person in the entire world I couldn’t say no to, one person I hadn’t closed off from, it was her.

  “Sure, Oops.”

  I got to my feet and followed her into the hall, past Holden and Nathaniel’s room, and into hers.

  The glowing tree-shaped nightlight cast a blue glow over her face. We climbed onto her full-sized bed, and she snuggled in.

  “Did a scary dream wake you?” I asked, tucking strands of hair behind her ear.

  Oops shook her head. “I needed to pee, and I saw your light on.” She grinned, then reached and set a hand on my cheek. Her positive source shifted into me, calming my fears.

  When I closed my eyes, the first time I held her filled my mind. It’d been almost exactly a year after Dad died. Until then, I’d fought her existence. Mom and Daniel’s little intruder—the symbol of Mom’s disloyalty too soon after Dad died.

  One night Oops cried uncontrollably, and Mom, a pure alv, and her new husband Daniel, a natural human, couldn’t do anything for her. Knowing I could help Oops with my source, I picked her up, shared what positive I had, and calmed her.

  Now, she calmed me.

  “Tara?” Daniel’s voice interrupted pleasant dreams for once.

  Sunlight already brightened the room. My alarm never went off. Uh oh. With dark source brewing, I jolted upright. I needed to get to school to email my presentation to Coach Montrose.

  “It’s almost seven.” Daniel stood in the doorway. Taking off his glasses, he scratched his brow before replacing them.

  “Seven?” That didn’t give me any time. I jumped up.

  I was in Oops’s room. My little sister had already snuck out of bed. No wonder I’d never heard an alarm.

  “Do you need me to drop you off at school?” Daniel asked tentatively.

  “No, I’ll ride my bike.”

  I scrambled to my room and the closet. I needed as gray of an outfit as possible. Nothing that would draw unwanted attention to me. Especially during my speech. Shoot. I’d wanted to practice it again. And if I didn’t get to school early enough to email it to my teacher, he’d dock points for it being late.

  “Not good, not good, not good,” I spoke both about the shirts and my tardiness.

  I found a dark gray tunic sweater. Perfect. Then I moved to the dresser.

  “Are you sure?” Daniel paused outside the door. “The high school is three minutes down the street from where I work.”

  Irritation at his persistence danced around with dark source in my chest. Taking a breath to calm it, I pulled a pair of skinny jeans from the drawer and turned around. “A fact I know all too well.”

  The previous spring, there was a week he’d gotten called in daily on my behalf, because my dark source was out of control and all my attempts to make things right with my ex bestie Samantha turned into fights. “Don’t need your help.”

  Outfit in hand, I stormed past him across the hall and into the bathroom.

  Despite his fatherly efforts, Daniel got on my nerves. I could recognize I was the most ungrateful stepchild in the world, but knowledge didn’t drive away the angst.

  Somehow, I squeezed my thirty-five minute routine into twenty, including a bit of mascara and eyeshadow. It was a habit left over from when I cared about Grandma Evedon’s advice of “you never know when you’ll meet the one.”

  I definitely wasn’t going to meet the one today. Or possibly ever. What man in his right mind would put up with me?

  As I pounded down the stairs, Daniel stood at the bottom, waiting with a piece of toast and sack lunch.

  “Why are you so nice?” I asked, instead of offering a thank you.

  “You’re my daughter?”

  “Step-daughter.” I snatched the lunch and stuffed it into my backpack. Grabbed the toast, folded it in half, and took a bite out of it. I handed the scraps back. I hurried outside where my bike waited inside the gate near the rose bushes, ready for me to ride. Daniel must have moved it off the porch for me. Why did he try so hard?

  As Daniel closed the door behind me, he coughed hoarsely, making me cringe. It was the one symptom leftover from when he had pneumonia. Pneumonia I’d given him when I dumped a bunch of bitter source into him last spring. After all my friends betrayed me, in a burst of dark-source fueled frustration, I’d almost killed Daniel.

  A basketball bounced across the street, and a girl laughed. I resisted letting my gaze stray to the neighboring driveway. So far, I’d gone unnoticed.

  One of the reasons I usually left early was to avoid Samantha and her crew of mass destruction. It was a nice morning, and she’d gathered with her carpool gang in her driveway across the street. A year ago, I would’ve been part of it. Now, I bore the brunt of their jokes when I walked past.

  Sam walked toward an unfamiliar Subaru parked along the sidewalk before my driveway. Inside, a tall young man with dirty blond hair sat reading a book.

  His obvious height and the fact he was reading jolted an image across my mind of my brother Holden. Too many times for it to be a specific memory, Holden used to sit in the car reading.

  He hadn’t visited home in two years. Hadn’t called me in six months.

  The newcomer wasn’t anyone I recognized, though it was hard to see him.

  Shoot. I didn’t have time to be distracted. I needed to get going.

  Sam opened the door. “Come play a quick game of knockout with us.” The charm was thick in her voice.

  Oh. Did Sam have a new love interest? Curious, but trying not to be obvious, I listened in while straddling my bike.

  He answered, giving her a brief smile, but didn’t get out of the vehicle. I put on my helmet, secretly pleased he was not giving in to her.

  “I thought you played at your last school.” She smiled flirtatiously.

  “I’d rather not,” he said.

  He obviously didn’t know Sam well.

  “Oh, come on. Don’t be shy.” Sam touched his arm.

  I paused about to click the strap together. That gesture really irked me. Too many times, while she dated Jerrick, I caught her hand on another guy’s arm. Sometimes, in retrospect, I wondered if she dated Jerrick to spite my crush on him.

  “I’d rather not play.” He smiled at her, but there was something nervous about the gesture, that tugged me, begging me to intervene.

  When she pulled on his arm, dark source burned, making my temper snap.

  I got off the bike, set it down, and ripped off my helmet. “I’ll play a quick round with you.”

  Sam’s attention shot to me. Anger flashed in her eyes.

  This was a bad idea. I’d begun to think she’d forgotten about me.

  Without waiting for her to agree, I headed over to her driveway where the others waited.

  David, one of the high school’s star football players, smirked as I approached. “I didn’t know you played basketball.”

  I held up my hands for his ball. “You remember my brother Holden?”

  The smirk grew into something more like admiration. “Yeah. He’s still a legend.”

  David didn’t know Holden was a pure alv with a strength and agility gift, giving hi
m a huge advantage.

  “Of course, I know how.”

  David tossed the ball to me. “This I have to see.”

  I looked over at Sam. “Ready?”

  She folded her arms and glared at me. Huffing, she walked around the car. Meanwhile, the driver got out and stepped up onto the sidewalk, watching us at a slight distance.

  In plain view, he was even taller than he’d looked in the car. And lanky. There was a half-smile of expectation on his face, and as my gaze met his, an undeniable wave of attraction burned, bringing with it an influx of positive source. Who was the attractive stranger?

  Heart, don’t betray me now. I jerked my gaze away from him.

  Sam came alongside me. “Keep your eyes off him,” she growled low in my ear.

  “They are.” I looked at her, narrowing my eyes. Whoever the attractive stranger was, he was definitely her new flirtation.

  Sam snatched the second ball from Layla. “How about a game of one on one.” She bustled up straight into my personal space. “I win,” she hissed, “and you forever stay a friendless loser. You win and I’ll make your life even more miserable.” She leaned back. An angry glint flashed in her eyes.

  “That doesn’t sound appealing,” I said.

  “It wasn’t meant to.”

  Dark, angry source festered in my chest. To think we were ever best friends.

  “Fine.” I should let her win and avoid a renewal of Sam’s vengeance. But knowing the attractive stranger watched, even if there could never be anything between us, something overcame me. Sam had always played better than me, but I was going to at least try. “I go first.” I stepped over to the free-throw line, aimed, then shot.

  The ball bounced off the rim like I knew it would. Sam tossed hers as I sprinted to retrieve mine. A surge of excitement woke inside me as my hands grabbed the ball bouncing off the pavement. I darted to my “golden spot” off to the left of the basketball net, the place I somehow always made it, and tossed the ball again. It went through the net, and I raced to retrieve it to throw from the free-throw line again.