The Storm Herald Series {#Wattys2018}

1.7

"Kenzie, wake up," I hear a deep baritone voice whisper. I grumble, not wanting to brought out of bed. Wait, bed? When did I get in bed? Didn't I black out on the street?

I quickly shoot up, my forehead almost colliding with Clark's. He gives a breath of relief, so he must be happy I'm awake.

"You ok?" he asks, handing me a glass of water. I drink it, then sigh,"I feel like I was hit with a ton of bricks."

You know that scene in Fifty First Dates? Where Lucy beats the crap out of Ula with a baseball bat? Yeah, that's how I feel, but a hundred times worse. My head pounds, so I must have hit my head on the sidewalk.

"Hey, Mackenzie, don't drift off," Clark says, shaking me awake. "You have a concussion, so it's best if you don't fall asleep."

"But I was earlier..." I mutter, my voice drifting off. Clark shakes his head,"no, you were just blacked out." He reaches over, and takes my hand, then squeezes it.

"Oh, by the way, you have a bunch of texts," he suddenly tells me, taking my phone off the nightstand. I take it,"thanks. Hey, um, could you go get my pills for me? I forgot to take them..."

"Pills?" Clark asks, worried.

"For my blackouts. That's why I did black out," I explain. His face falls,"oh, ok. I'll be back then. Where are they?"

"In my bag," I tell him. "Thank you so much, Clark." He nods, then exits the room. That means I'm not in the room I've been staying in for the past few days, so what room am I in? I look around, but there's nothing on the walls that suggest where I am. I lay back down, and pull the plaid comforter up a little.

I can hear Clark coming back, so I look over my shoulder, at the door. He hands my bottle of prescriptions, so I have to sit up again, to take them. After I take my pills, I look at Clark,"which room am I in?" Clark blushes, before answering,"mine."

"Oh, how come?" I press. He shrugs,"my bed is a lot more comfortable than the one in the guest bedroom, so my mom and I brought you here."

"Well, thank you," I smile. He leans forward, and kisses my forehead. He then leaves the room, leaving my face flushed.

***

Over the next few days, I ignore Cato's calls and texts, and read over the files Winnie gave me.

"Clark, could you come here?" I ask, looking up. Martha has forced me on bed rest, because she wants to make sure I don't black out again. I'm taking all the precautions I need, taking my pills, not smoking, and getting enough sleep, but I still black out once or twice a day.

Clark appears at the door, his face a mask of concern.

"What's wrong?" he asks. I shove one of the copies towards him,"read this." Clark skims over the paper, then looks up at me,"yeah, Killian runs one of Auto body shops." I snicker,"that's funny, cause his last name is Otto." Clark rolls his eyes, then sits on the bed next to me,"where did you get all of this?"

"Winnie," I beam at him. He rolls his eyes,"of course, she gave them to you." I wrinkle my nose at him, my eyes scrunching up.

"Could you take me to the shop where he works?" I ask hopefully.

***

It's funny how a large part of your childhood can change just over a few years, or even months? That's the shock I get when I see the place where this Killian works.

I used to play there as a kid, with Queenie and Jason, and even there in the back is the treehouse we used to play in. It makes me both sad and happy.

"Ah, Ms. Wright," a white haired Man greets me. "Clark had told me you both were coming."

"Look, Mr. Otto, I just want to keep this short and simple, ok?" I tell him. He raises a pair of hands covered in oil,"very well, what is it you wish to ask me?"

"Where were you last Saturday night?" I ask, getting my notepad.

"I was working here," he tells me.

"Is there anyone who can verify your alibi?" I press.

***

"He gave me nothing," I sigh, frustrated. Clark sits next to me on my bed again,"well, maybe he actually is innocent." I shake my head,"no, he can't be. Because the only other suspects are my parents, and Jason, and I don't think it was my family."

"How come Killian was on the suspect list?" Clark asks me.

"The gun found at the scene was registered with his name," I explain. Clark sighs, rubbing his face,"well, then we're going to have to keep an eye on him." I nod, then check my phone when I hear it beep.

"If that's Cato, don't answer," Clark snaps. I shake my head,"no, it's an email." I open the email, and skim over it.

UKNOWN: Ding Dong, the snitch is dead.

The text is followed by a picture of Queenie's dead body, making me choke on my air.

UNKNOWN: keep your nose out of this, or he'll be next.

The next attachment is a picture of Clark in the scope of a gun. I set my phone down like it's a bomb, then look at Clark.

"What is it?" he asks, and reaches over for my phone. I shake my head,"don't touch it, Clark. I don't even want to pick it up." But Clark grabs my phone, and reads through my email.

"'All hail the Herald and the Ghost'?" he asks. I look at at my phone, and see the text underneath the second attachment.

"They know..." I mutter, snatching my phone from Clark.

"Know what?" he asks me.

"My secret."