Preda's Voice (Guardians of Vaka Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

wire. She slowly sat up straighter and gripped Fiver’s box with one hand. Her other hand was on the door handle in an effort to prepare herself to bolt if necessary. Oddly enough the detective hadn’t even locked the door. Detective Fox seemed to sense her alarm and cleared his throat. “No need to worry. We’re staying with a friend.”
    A friend? Preda thought frantically. She had no friends. Alarm bells were ringing in her head, and thoughts of her father’s warnings about her future repeated themselves like a mantra. Destined for an institution, she thought again and again. This couldn’t be right. She frantically considered the events of the afternoon.
    What kind of detective didn’t even inspect the box a criminal was holding? Had he ever read her any rights? Didn’t he legally have to tell her where she was going? Preda had been so mired in her own guilt and fear, she had forgotten to consider the motives of this man who had taken her from school and claimed to already know so much about her life.
    With an unusual moment of clarity, Preda swallowed back the fear of her own voice and spoke for the first time to her escort. “You’re not a detective.”
    Detective Fox stopped the car and looked over at her with a bemused expression. “No. I’m not,” he said.
    Preda gasped and whispered, “My voice doesn’t affect you.”
    “It does, Preda. Just not in the way you think it should.”
    With that cryptic statement, he slowly looked ahead, and the car started moving down the street again. Preda felt a mixture of excitement and a tinge of fear. Her hands were shaking as she nervously ran her fingers through her hair. For her entire life, she had been afraid of the consequences of her voice. She could count on two hands the number of times she had spoken to someone else intentionally, and it had never ended well.
    Preda’s father had told her from a very young age that she was the reason her mother was absent from their lives. He had made it very clear to Preda that her incessant crying and yelling had driven his wife to madness. His words were chiseled into her memory banks as though written in stone.
    Preda had been six years old, playing on the floor of the hallway outside her bedroom with a tattered stuffed teddy bear. Her father had strolled into the hall from the kitchen and planted his giant boots next to her small hands splayed out on the floor. Preda looked up at him then and started to say she was hungry. He had picked up one foot and slowly lowered it onto her left hand.
    As she started to cry, he put more weight on it. The pain was excruciating, and she couldn’t help the scream bursting from her throat. He leaned down so his face was eye level with her, and he pointed to the plugs in his ears. He had told her then that every time she cried or asked for something, he would do this. To emphasize his words, he twisted the heel of his boot until she was completely silent. Preda had to squeeze her eyes shut and hold her breath until he took the weight off her hand. As soon as she was free, she quickly scooped up her stuffed animal with her right hand and scurried away from him into the corner of her room. She silently hiccupped and watched his retreating back. Preda did not misunderstand the intent behind his words and had spoken to him only a handful of times since.
    She closed her eyes against the memory and thought about the significance of what Detective Fox had said. No. Not a detective. Just Mr. Fox. She soon realized they were pulling into a driveway. The drive led to a very plain, faded yellow ranch-style house. Preda could see the outline of a flower garden growing wild in the front yard.

5
    M r. Fox turned the Crown Victoria’s engine off, and the sudden absence of light was alarming. Preda didn’t think about what she was doing. She just yanked on the door handle and flew out of the car with Fiver pressed against her chest. She ran straight for the garden and crouched through the tall