Blakeshire (Insight #9)(45)


“You spend a lot of time here.”

He held in a grin. “Kind of my hideout. My real.”

Guilt slammed into my soul. “I hurt you when I told you the palace wasn’t real—that the life you led was fake, didn’t I?”

His hand tightened around mine. “Not at all. It’s the truth. It’s never been my real. A few months ago when I figured out that I had two other brothers, an entire family that I didn’t know about, I realized that even though I was furious with my parents for hiding so much from me that they never really hid anything.” He hesitated. “If I had listened to my soul like the father on that mural, I wouldn’t have cared. Instead, I was like the son. I took what was in front of me and acted it out.”

“On stage.”

“Always,” he sighed. “Donalt sent me into the strings every day. I was supposed to be searching every nook of Infante, but instead, most days I came here. This was my real.”

“It’s a beautiful real.”

“It’s how I want my kingdom to think and feel. They are made of stone right now; under that stone is a purpose that I dream to lead them to. They live in terror. I want them to live with obsession. To find what makes them whole and absorb it, because I know when they do they will find something even greater.”

“One day,” I promised.

Right then, a little boy ran up to Drake and pulled on his coat. When Drake looked down, the boy signed something to him. Drake offered a simple nod and a subtle grin. The boy beamed with excitement as he ran off.

“What was that about?”

“They want to perform for you.”

“What?”

“The school is on midday break. They saw me with you, and they want to show us what they have been practicing.”

“You really do spend a lot of time here.”

He grinned as he leaned against the light post and pulled me in front of him.

An artist was just before us. He grinned at us as he continued to create whatever was on his canvas.

All at once, loud music began to play. It was insane because it had a solid beat to it, but there was a symphony laced with it. I could even hear guitars.

Everyone on the sidewalk halted what they were doing, and people in the buildings either came out or opened their windows to stare out. A few seconds later, children ran out to the street—there were at least a hundred of them. They moved in perfect rhythm with each other. That was cool, but what was wicked was that they were signing as they moved with the music; it was like they were all singing silently together. When the beat became slower, so did the movement of their words; when it sped up, so did their little arms.

The energy swarming around us was insane; you could feel this vibration in the air, this innocent addiction to life.

Drake moved us with the beat, making us look like a better audience than what I was doing. My eyes were wide and my mouth was half-open. I was trying desperately to take it all in without overwhelming my senses.

It all ended far too soon. The kids swarmed around us, hugging Drake and signing things to him that he answered in the same fashion. He pulled handfuls of candy out his coat pockets and passed it out to them; they took each piece like it was gift from the heavens. Then just like that, they all disbursed.

“Wait right here,” he said to me as he stepped inside the doorway next to us. I was too awestruck to follow him. I really thought I was dreaming for a moment. Today I had seen Drake cook, sign, muse, and entertain children—and none of those actions played into the hardcore, self-loathing prince that I thought I was on a date with. This boy had way too many layers.

The artist before where I was standing stood and handed me a sheet of ivory paper that had been rolled tightly into place.

“I can’t—” Before I could tell him I had no money to give him for this, he held his hand up.

“A gift for Blakeshire’s light.”

A disbelieving grin spread across my face as I took what was surely a drawing of us. Before I could offer a thanks or look at the image, Drake was back.

“Ready?”

“For?”

He grinned as he urged me to walk down the sidewalk with him. I slid the paper into my coat pocket, and as we walked I did my best to smile at everyone who said hello to us.

A few blocks later we turned, and there on the side street was the oddest-looking car I had ever seen. The wheels were huge with thick tread; the body was sleek like a sports car. The dark red with white stripes could have been giving it that sports car image, but still this was crazy.

He opened the door for me. As I slid in, I noticed how basic, yet modern it was. There wasn’t any kind of computer, clock, or radio, but the seats were leather and that deep aroma of new car filled the air.

He slid in the driver’s seat and glanced at me. “I love that look on your face.”

“Who are you?” I said with a crazy grin.

“Someone who is trying really hard to show you what real is to me.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Ah, don’t say that. I haven’t even shown you what we came here to see,” he joked as he turned the car on and took control of the gearshift. My heart raced as I realized that I was excited and nervous all at once.

Anticipation coiled in my core.





Chapter Ten

Drake

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