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  “Deja Blue”

  By Julie Cassar

  Book Two of the Ruby Blue Series

  Copyright © 2012, Julie Cassar

  All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and review.

  Published in the United States of America by Julie Cassar

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements

  Once again, I need to thank some individuals who were key people in the development of this book. First, I’ve got to give credit to my soul-sista, Beth, who came up with the brilliant title! And, for the record, you are the all-time slayer of dragons. I want you at my side any time I go into battle. To Cheryl, thank you, once again, for reading through every page as it was hot off the presses. You are, and always will be, my “Tracy.” Dean, thank you for shamelessly promoting me and supporting my work. J.D., what would I do without your Crit Wall sessions? A big thank you for the idea regarding the cell phone scene…good stuff, brutha! Leslie, Leslie, Leslie, I have no words. (Probably because you’ve red-penned them all out!) I could not have put this book out without your spectacular editing skills. A special thank you to Mary-Nancy Moore Smith for organizing my awesome fan club and to her family for the pork chop chant…that was classic! I still giggle when I read it (or say it…or think of it!) Lisa Blair, you ROCK! Thanks for the swimming notes! I also have to give a special thank you to author R.A. Evans, for putting together the fabulous book trailer for “Ruby Blue.” I have no words to express my gratitude for his unparalleled kindness and willingness to lend his support to a new, struggling indie author. I hope that this second installment to the series meets with his approval.

  Again, I would personally like to thank each and every person out there who purchased this book and have fallen in love with these characters. They have a special place in my heart and I’m glad I can share them with you.

  I dedicate this book to my kids, Janie, Gracie and Adrian. And, finally, I’d like to leave you all with a quote from the band, Journey, “Don’t stop believin’…hold onto that feeeelinn’!”

  Chapter 1

  Ugh. How do I get myself into these things? I stood in my second-floor bedroom, glanced up at the slanted cove ceilings, let out a sigh, placed my hands on my hips and then directed my gaze to the small, wooden, locked door in my room. The hot afternoon sun was streaming through my windows, intensifying the nervous heat I felt pulsing through my body. The small white door was about three feet tall, tucked into a corner of my room. It led to a dingy, dark closet built into the attic of my house that I never, ever used. My dishwater-blonde hair was pulled back in a pony-tail but wisps fell around my flushed, sweaty face, and I stuck my bottom lip out to blow the stray hairs out of my eyes. I stared intently at the antique glass doorknob and nervously started to chew my lip as the beat of my heart thumping echoed in my ears.

  “Well? Are ya just gonna stand there all day and stare at it? Or are ya gonna unlock the door and see what’s inside?” Jeremy impatiently flopped his hands around dramatically. Jeremy is my best friend and probably the only gay Goth 17-year-old boy in the small town of Lake City, Michigan where we live. About six feet of lankiness, Jeremy stood next to me in his black jeans, black sleeveless shirt and black Converse tennis shoes and began twisting his white wrist sweatbands aimlessly around his wrist. His dyed jet-black hair now had purple streaks. His new boyfriend, Michael, thought they would look sexy. I think they look dumb. But, whatever. It’s his hair. I still love the guy. After all, we’ve been best friends since we were about five years old.

  It’s the beginning of August and about 80 degrees in my tiny room upstairs in the bungalow house where I live. I’m Ruby Blue. I live here with my pain-in-the-ass younger brother, Leo (he’s fifteen), and my parents. And yeah, I can see fairies. No, I’m not being a smartass. I mean, I literally can see fairies. In fact, my other two best friends are Anya and Brennan, who are brother and sister and whom I just found out are actually a Fairy Princess and Fairy Prince. (They are part of the Earthen Royal Court, one of the four Royal Courts in their world of Fey.) I know, kind of out there, right? But I’m dead serious. I started seeing fairies when I was about five years old. Long story short, about two months ago, there was a rare astrological occurrence called a Blue Moon. During the Blue Moon, this nasty old dragon named Sirrush managed to sneak through the portal from the Fairy world of Fey and into ours. He caused a bunch of problems in my small town and I managed to help Anya and Brennan send the crazy-ass dragon back to Fey, but unfortunately we kind of accidentally killed the stinky, fire-breathing beast in the process. Jeremy was there too, but he mostly screamed like a girl and freaked out. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he was all gung-ho, acting like Harry Potter at first…then came the screaming-like-a-girl part. The only person who knows I can see fairies is Jeremy. He, like most people, can only see fairies when they’re in their human form. If they remain small and flutter around the garden, only people like me (who have the gift of Fairy Sight) can see them. But, when they cross completely over into our world, the fairies appear to look just like humans, except they have a slight glow about them. Most people don’t notice it though. Even my new boyfriend, Nick Martino, doesn’t know that I can see fairies. (We’ve been dating since the beginning of summer.) Anya and Brennan like to keep their Royal Fairy identities a secret. They say it’s safer for everyone that way. And really, who would believe it anyway? I’d probably end up in a nuthouse if I went around exclaiming that I can see magical winged beings from another realm that happen to shift into human forms and live in our world from time-to-time. Talk about crazy. They’d put me in a hug-me-all-the-time jacket and lock me up for sure. Jeremy found out kind of accidentally, and since he’s known Anya and Brennan almost as long as I have, they figured he was trustworthy enough to keep their secret.

  “Well???” Jeremy asked again, anxiously shifting his feet back and forth as he chewed on his fingernails. (Gross.)

  “Alright, alright!” I answered, with a touch of annoyance in my voice. I dug my hand into the pocket of my cutoffs and pulled out the tiny skeleton key. I straightened my slender 5’5” frame and took a deep breath. I walked over to the door, unlocked it, and paused before I slowly turned the handle.

  “What do you think is in there? Have you got any clue, Miss Ruby Blue?” Jeremy whispered with a nervous, creeping closer to me as I slowly turned the glass doorknob.

  “I have no idea,” I answered quietly, ignoring his lame attempt at a silly rhyme. “Brennan put whatever it is in this attic closet a few weeks ago, locked it, and kept the key hidden from me until last night when he left it in the garden for me. He told me not to open the door until this morning when we were to get whateverthehell it is he stashed in here, and bring it to them. He said it was better that I didn’t know what it was, until today, just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” Jeremy asked.

  “How the hell should I know? You know fairies and their secrets. They’re so vague all the time!” My exasperation was obvious. Although fairies couldn’t tell lies, they were very good at not revealing the entire truth. I turned the glass knob all the way and took another deep breath before pulling the small wooden door open.

  “Well, what about your special Fairy hearing?” Jeremy persisted while I slowly opened the door and we both leaned back. (Just in case something jumped out at us.)

  I inwardly cringed with slight frustration at J
eremy’s assumption. In addition to my ability to see fairies, I also very recently acquired the talent for actually being able to hear their silent thought exchanges. You see, fairies can communicate telepathically with each other, kind of their own mind-talking language. Yeah, that was another “super-great” thing that happened recently. (Not.) I annoyingly replied, “It doesn’t work like that. If there’s something they don’t want me to hear, they can keep it from me. It’s like they use a different telepathic frequency. Plus, Anya and Brennan just didn’t ‘talk’ about it in front of me. It’s no different than someone whispering a secret to you in another room. I wouldn’t hear that either. I’ve already told you everything I know Jeremy. We’ve gone over this like, a zillion times!” Jeremy just shook his head. Before we killed the crazy-ass dragon, Sirrush, the stupid creature managed to bite me, and, with that, some of his powers kind of leaked into me. If he had lived, he would have used it against me, or taken it back. But, instead, he died and now I’m stuck with some of his dragon magic coursing through my veins. Anya and Brennan said that I am now forever connected to Fey. I’m just hoping I don’t grow scales one day. Telepathic Fairy hearing is nuts enough. But at least it’s an invisible “gift.” Could you imagine if I had to walk around school with scales all over me? Yuck! I suppose super-Fairy hearing wasn’t so bad. After being bitten by the dragon, I could now hear those silent exchanges between fairies. Too bad it didn’t work on people. I wouldn’t mind knowing what my boyfriend, Nick, was actually thinking once in a while… But I suppose that could drive a person kind of crazy too. Hey, I’ve read Twilight! Edward Cullen was mind-boggling numbed with the inane chatter that went on inside people’s heads. There I go again…letting my mind wander. I shook my head at my own distracting thoughts and tried to focus my attention to the task at hand. My heart began beating faster in anticipation of what we were about to see in the closet as the sweat trickled down my forehead.

  Jeremy grabbed my arm as we cautiously peered into the small, dark space. I squinted my eyes as they adjusted to the darkness, leaning forward for a better view and wishing there was a light in there. Well, nothing seemed to move. That was a good sign, right? It was completely quiet and still. (Other than Jeremy breathing down my neck.)

  “Shoulda brought a flashlight,” he whispered, as he moved closer behind me and leaned forward, squinting into the dark closet.

  “Well, at least nothing jumped out at us,” I nervously laughed. I slowly moved forward, putting my hands out to feel around the dark, small space. I felt them brush up against something. “Here, I think I’ve found something.” I groped around the object and instantly realized what it was. I wrapped my hand around it and tugged. It was heavy!

  “Hang on,” I said as I blew a breath out, wrapped both hands around it, and heaved back with all my might.

  I stumbled backward a bit into Jeremy while pulling the large, old brown leather suitcase out of the closet. Jeremy kind of tripped backwards with me as we came spilling out onto our butts into the bright light of my bedroom.

  “A stinky old suitcase?! That’s what was so secret and had to stay hidden under lock and key?” Jeremy shook his head as we sat back on our hands, staring at the ancient suitcase.

  “A heavy, stinky old suitcase,” I corrected him, blowing the wisps of hair out of my eyes again. I looked at the weathered suitcase and thought it must be about fifty years old.

  “C’mon, help me lift it onto my bed,” I said, standing up and brushing my hands off on my cutoffs. Jeremy stood and we both reached down to pick up the old suitcase.

  “Holy MotherHUBBARD!” Jeremy gasped, “What the hell’s he got in here? Rocks?”

  “I have no idea, but we’re about to find out.”

  We placed the heavy suitcase gently down onto my bed, and I began to fiddle with the clasp and buckles locking it shut. It kind of looked like an old-fashioned doctor’s medical bag, like the kind I saw on reruns of “Little House on the Prairie,” except this one was brown. I pressed my lips together in concentration, as sweat continued to bead on my face, and used my hands to pry the case open. I fidgeted with the buckles and clasps, and finally managed to get it open.

  “What the hell?!” exclaimed Jeremy as we looked into the musty old suitcase. We couldn’t believe what we saw.

  Chapter 2

  Jeremy and I stood over the ancient case and stared inside it. “Seriously?!! ROCKS?! There are rocks in there!” Jeremy shouted in annoyance throwing up his hands. He stomped away from me in a tizzy. Oh geesh. I hope he wasn’t about to have another one of his temper tantrums. That boy could flip out worse than a Jersey housewife.

  I shook my head, interrupting his hissy fit before he went into full-blown freak-out mode. “Wait a minute, Jer, I don’t think they’re regular old rocks.” I picked up one of the heavy, jagged rocks. It was about the size of a small watermelon, and looked something like quartz. It glittered in the sunlight, and bluish-green chunks sparkled throughout the jagged, rough stone. The other rocks were slightly smaller, and some of them reflected different shades of sparkling coppers and golds. I inspected the one I held carefully as I slowly turned it in my hands and continued, “You know what I think this is? I think it’s one of those Isle Royale Greenstones that Brennan told me about when we were in Traverse City at the Cherry Festival!”

  Jeremy nodded, “Right, right…I remember. But that sucker’s huge! It’s gotta be worth a small fortune! No wonder Brennan wanted to keep it locked up. You had your very own treasure tucked away in your room, Ruby! Heyyy! Ruby. Treasure. Gemstones. That’s funny. Get it?”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head at Jeremy’s lame attempt at humor. Jeremy was much funnier when he wasn’t intending to be. “I wonder what we’re supposed to do with it now. How are these supposed to help us?”

  He answered, “Well, we’ll find out soon enough. We’re supposed to meet Anya and Brennan down by the lake in about an hour, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, might as well get movin’. We should split up the rocks into some backpacks so we can haul ‘em down to the beach. Do you think they are going to use these to solve your creepy-stalker problem?”

  I sighed, “I don’t know, Jer. Plus, there’s the whole issue with Celestine.”

  Jeremy nodded with sympathy.

  The lake was only about a ten minute walk from my house. Our little bungalow backed up to a large (Fairy-filled) forest, with a well-worn dirt path winding down to the lake. Brennan had given us instructions to get what was being kept hidden in my closet and meet him and Anya at our usual spot on the beach, near the old driftwood tree by the deserted lifeguard tower. That’s all we knew. I grabbed two backpacks and we stuffed the rocks into the bags. I thought back to how this whole mess started just over a month ago and how I came to meet Celestine, the Mermaid.

  Yep. You heard me right, a freakin’ Mermaid.

  Chapter 3

  This all started in July. The second week of July, to be specific. I was sitting next to my boyfriend, Nick (a.k.a. Mr. Hotness) in the backseat of his dad’s forest green Ford Explorer while his parents chatted away in the front seat. Mr. Martino was about Nick’s height and build, but that’s where the resemblance between father and son ended. Mr. Martino had olive skin, dark hair graying at the temples, and thick black eyebrows that framed his twinkling hazel eyes. Mrs. Martino was a short, trim woman in her forties. I see her jogging around town in her running outfit almost every day. She has blonde hair and green eyes, and I could see where Nick got his gorgeous, golden looks. Not that his dad wasn’t okay-looking…for an old guy. He definitely had a charming way about him. He was always smiling and talking to all of the customers who came into their pizza place. It was hard not to like Mr. Martino. I guess that’s where Nick gets his charm.

  We were on our way to a destination even farther up north than our home town. We were headed to the Cherry Festival in Traverse City, Michigan. It was only about an hour drive from my town but, Nick’s family had a tr
adition of staying at some fancy resort for a couple of nights during the festival. The Traverse City Cherry Festival attracts tons of tourists. The quaint, little town features several streets lined with boutiques, pubs, galleries, restaurants, coffee shops and bakeries and sits right on the Grand Traverse Bay. The beautiful, sparkling blue water has shorelines of sandy beaches and dunes and opens into Lake Michigan.

  I was actually a little shocked that my parents let me tag along with Nick and his family on this little get-a-way. After all, I was only 17, and a girl. My parents usually treat me like I am still six years old. But since Nick’s family owned the local pizza place in town and were pretty well-known and well-respected in our little community, my parents felt okay about me joining them on this trip.

  Nick and I had been dating ever since June. He is 5’10” of pure hotness. Shoulder-length golden blonde locks matched his golden-tanned muscular frame. He looked more like a cool California surfer-dude than an up-north hick-town kid from Michigan. His sparking, emerald green eyes lit up every time he showed off his dazzling smile. I couldn’t believe the hottest guy in our school actually liked regular old me. And the best part – he really was a nice guy. I had to pinch myself when he invited me to come along on his family’s annual trip to the Cherry Festival. As I sat in the backseat holding his hand, (with my freshly polished purple finger nails) staring out the window, I thought back when to I first told my friend, Anya I was going on this little excursion.

  *******

  “I still cannot believe it, Anya!” I exclaimed as I packed my duffel bag full of shorts, tank tops, swimsuits and Converse tennis shoes (my favorite footwear…I own them in just about every color made). Anya sat daintily on the bed while I continued to shove clothes into the bag. Anya was beautiful. About five feet tall, with jet-black hair that curled ever so slightly around her face and shoulders, clear blue eyes and pale-white skin, she always seems to be glowing. She has the poise and glamour of an old Hollywood movie star, even though she’s only eighteen years old. My mom always calls her an old soul, and my dad refers to her as a Southern belle. They have no clue that she’s a Fairy…and a Fairy princess at that! Either way, she always seems so much more mature than any of the other kids that I know.