The Hourglass Door

  Maybe it was the phrase best friend that did it. Maybe it was the false brightness in her eye. Maybe it was the months of watching her pull away from her old life and her old friends to submerge herself without resistance in a new life with new friends. Maybe it was all of it, but at that moment I felt the sharp bite of anger latch onto my chest, crushing my breath in its jaws.

  “Cut the act,” I snapped.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Natalie didn’t know I would be here, so she couldn’t have told you anything. She couldn’t have told you anything anyway, because I haven’t told her anything secret about my relationship with Dante.”

  “So you are keeping secrets about Dante.”

  I didn’t bother to reply. Instead, I hopped out of the swing and started to walk away. My flash of hot anger had burned away, leaving my chest cold and full of ashes.

  “Is it about where he disappears to every so often? Do you know where he is right now?” she called after me.

  I knew exactly where Dante was, but I wasn’t about to tell Valerie.

  “He’s there, isn’t he?”

  My steps slowed, then stopped. I didn’t dare turn around, afraid of what I would see on Valerie’s face, more afraid of what would show on my own.

  “Did Zo send you?” I closed my eyes against the truth I feared to hear.

  I heard Valerie’s shoes crunch on the gravel behind me. I felt her presence close against my back.

  “Tell me how he did it, Abby,” she whispered. “That’s all Zo wants to know. Just tell me so I can go back to my own sweet Italian boyfriend.”

  “I thought you were through with V.”

  “I am. Hard to believe it, but you were right all along. It’s not the drummer who controls the band—it’s the lead singer. It’s Zo. And I’m Zo’s girl now.” Valerie circled around to face me. “Just tell me what I want to know.”

  I looked her in the eyes, hoping I would see the old Valerie in them, the Valerie I’d known since forever. But she’d spent so much time with Zero Hour lately that I saw only Zo reflected in her eyes—his emotions, his desires, his wishes. She was right: She was Zo’s girl now, through and through. She had become as dangerous to me as he was. I had to look away, my heart sore at losing my friend for the second time. I swallowed hard and summoned up my courage.

  “No. I won’t tell you anything.”

  I watched the change fall over Valerie’s face like a mask. Gone were the soft, round curves of her face, replaced with harsh angles and shadows. The friendly false light in her eyes snuffed out in an instant. Her red lips thinned like a wound beginning to clot.

  “He doesn’t need you, you know. Whatever it is, I can help him. Ican take him where he wants to go. Not you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t know what Zo is planning to do.”

  “I know he promised to take me with him.”

  “What?” I forced the word through numb lips.

  A satisfied smile curved her mouth like a bow. “He said that when he left, he’d take me with him. That we’d be together forever. That he’d show me things I couldn’t imagine.” She bared her teeth at me. “So I hope you enjoy your time with Dante. You’ll never have what I have with Zo.”

  Then she turned on her heel and walked away.

  I heard the familiar sound of Valerie’s Lexus roaring to life and then the high squeal of tires as she raced out of the parking lot.

  She was in danger and she didn’t even know it.

  I jogged to my car and revved the engine. My thoughts raced faster than my car did on the way to the Dungeon.

  Valerie’s parting words simmered in my mind, which bubbled with questions and uncertainty. The bank was certainly an unimaginable destination, but somehow I didn’t think that was Zo’s intention. If he couldn’t get what he wanted from me, would he try to take someone else to the bank? Would he try to take Valerie? If he did, and if the door appeared for her as it had for me, then what? Zo still wouldn’t be able to open the door, so what would he do with Valerie? Zo wouldn’t think twice about leaving her stranded on the bank. And if he did that . . . well, the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.

  I pulled into the Dungeon’s parking lot, not bothering to straighten my car neatly between the painted lines, not bothering to lock my doors. I ran through the door and past the handful of couples scattered around the dance floor. I maneuvered my way around the pool tables toward the long bar where Leo was busy mixing one of his signature Tropical Treasures for Lily. I slid onto the bar stool next to her, tapping my fingers on the counter.

  “Hi, Abby,” Lily said.

  “Hi,” I answered absently. I tried to catch Leo’s eye to let him know I needed to talk.

  Leo took in my disheveled hair and flushed skin and nodded. “I’d be happy to help if you can wait a moment.”

  As I nodded, he handed Lily her drink. “Enjoy. There’s a treasure just for you at the bottom of the glass.” He smiled at her.

  “Thanks,” Lily said. Then she turned to me. “So, Abby, are you going to the Spring Fling with Dante this weekend?”

  “Um, yeah, I guess so.” With everything else on my mind, I hadn’t given the dance much thought.

  Lily looked around. “Where is he, anyway? I didn’t see him here, so I assumed he was with you.”

  Leo and I exchanged a glance I hoped Lily missed.

  “Oh, well—”

  “If you see him, tell him I have those notes from math he asked to borrow.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Lily bounced off her seat, heading back to the table where Ethan was waiting.

  I glanced around the room once, then turned immediately to Leo. “I need to talk to you.”

  “So I gathered. You’re not very subtle—you know that, right?”

  “It’s about—”

  “Zo and Valerie.”

  My jaw dropped open. “How did you know?”

  “Dante.” Leo flipped a towel over his shoulder. “He’s been seeing some strange ripples in the river lately.”

  “And he didn’t tell me?”

  “I told him not to.”

  “Why would you do that?” Even if Valerie and I weren’t friends anymore, I couldn’t just abandon her to Zo’s machinations.

  “Because you’re in some of the ripples,” Leo said calmly. “And you remember the rules, don’t you?”

  “I know, I know, I’m not supposed to know because it’ll interfere with my decisions, blah blah blah.” I slammed my hand on the bar, earning myself some strange looks from the other customers and a frown from Leo. “What good is being able to see the future if you can’t do anything about it?” I hissed.

  “What would you do if you knew?” Leo asked.

  “I don’t know—something!”

  “What if that something was the exact wrong thing to do?”

  “What if it was the right thing to do?”

  “How would you know the difference?”

  I ground my teeth together. “How would you?”

  “Abby, I know it’s hard,” Leo said, leaning over the bar. “But the river is too volatile right now to know anything for sure. Until it settles down, or until Dante or I can make sense of what he’s seeing . . .” He shrugged.

  “What am I supposed to do, then?” I felt tears of frustration well up. “Am I just supposed to let Zo have her? What if he hurts her worse than he already has? What if he tries to take her to the bank?”

  “He can’t.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” I snapped. “He needs me for that. Because I’m special.”

  Leo spread his white towel on the bar with a careful hand. “Don’t discount yourself, Abby. You are special. And that’s why we will protect you—”

  I opened my mouth, but Leo overrode my words.

  “And we’ll protect Valerie to the best of our ability. I promise you, mia donna di luce. Please. Trust me. And if you can’t do that—trust Dante.”

 
I folded my arms on the bar and dropped my head on them. That was the clincher—I trusted Dante with all my heart—and I suspected Leo knew that.

  “I’m just worried,” I mumbled into the bar.

  “I know. You are a good friend.”

  “I hope that’s enough.”

  Chapter

  24

  Dante returned from the bank in time for the Spring Fling. Thankfully it wasn’t a formal dance like Valentine’s had been, so I didn’t have to worry about wearing the wrong dress. In fact, I didn’t have to wear a dress at all if I didn’t want to. The theme was April Showers and May Flowers, and the boys were all supposed to come as something water-related (whatever that meant) and the girls were supposed to come as flowers.

  “Costumes?” Dante had said when I told him about the dance.

  “They’re optional. But it’s traditional. Formal dances are Christmas, Valentine’s, and prom. Fun dances are the sock hop, Halloween, and the Spring Fling. Don’t tell me you didn’t go to dances back home.”

  “Not in costume,” he said.

  “Then think of this as an adventure.” I kissed his cheek. “So which flower should I be?”

  He curled me close to his chest, nuzzling his face into my hair. “Mmmm, can’t you be all of them? My own bouquet of beauty? Like daisies opening their friendly petals.” He brushed his fingertips over my eyelids. “Or marigolds that burn like the summer sun.” He rubbed his hands over my back. “Or orchids—rare and exotic.” He traced a finger across my collarbone down to rest lightly on the locket I wore all the time. “Roses for passion.” He kissed me.

  “You, sir, are too smooth for your own good,” I remarked with a fluttering smile, leaning against his chest and closing my eyes in sweet bliss.

  ~

  I was remembering that kiss as we walked across the crowded dance floor looking for Jason and Natalie. Natalie had suggested we double-date, but that still felt a little weird for me, so I told her we’d just find them at the dance.

  Dante, with his height, spotted them first. He squeezed my hand and then pointed to the far side of the gym, which was decorated with paper cutout storm clouds and raindrops and wallpapered with colorful flowers and green grasses. I stood on my toes, trying to see past a kid dressed as a shower—complete with curtain—and saw Jason’s familiar golden curls. We pressed on through a garden of girls in flowered dresses, past Poseidon with his trident, and paused while two storm clouds rumbled by (boys in gray sweats covered with gray cotton balls—pretty creative, I thought).

  “Abby, you look beautiful!” Natalie gushed when we reached her. She hugged me and then held me back to look at my outfit.

  I had come as a white rose: a full skirt layered with white lace, a pale pink silk cami underneath a sheer, short-sleeved blouse, Dante’s silver locket resting in the hollow of my throat. Dante had also given me a single white rose to wear in my hair. He said I looked like an angel; I felt like I was surrounded by a cloud of light.

  “Guess what flower I am?” Natalie asked. I started to shake my head, but she didn’t wait for me. “A sunflower! Well, deconstructed, of course, I’m not tall enough to pull it off for real. See, here’s my ‘stalk’”—she brushed her green skirt—“and my beautiful petals”—a bright yellow shirt—“and the brown seeds on top”—she took off a dark brown hat that crowned her hair. “And here’s my sun.” She twined her arm around Jason’s elbow.

  Dressed in tan slacks and a muted brown shirt, the only sunshine things about him were his golden-blond curls and his dazzling smile. That was enough, though; he and Natalie were a perfectly matched pair.

  “Did you decide not to come in costume, Dante?” Jason asked.

  Dante looked stricken. He’d agreed to dress up as long as he got to pick what he was going to wear. “I’m Charon,” he said. His dark pants and long-sleeved shirt didn’t look that different from the clothes he usually wore. Tied to his belt, though, was a bag filled with coins. He hefted the bag in his hand. “Charon—the ferryman who takes souls across the river Styx?”

  “Right, of course, Charon—” Natalie started.

  “And the river Styx,” finished Jason.

  “It’s okay,” I told them. “I didn’t know who he was either, the first time I saw him.”

  Dante shot me a dirty look and bumped my shoulder with his.

  “Careful—you’ll muss me.” I pretended to pat my hair into place and we all laughed.

  The music kicked up a notch, a wild beat that thankfully wasn’t from a Zero Hour song. Jason pulled Natalie to the dance floor; Dante glanced at me.

  “May I have this dance, fair lady?”

  I gave him my answer in a grin and we spun onto the floor that was already filled with light and color.

  We danced song after song, filled with endless energy and laughter. We switched partners at one point—me dancing with Jason; Dante with Natalie—and then back again. The music took a breath and then released the soft melody of “Time after Time.”

  “I love this song,” I said as we slowed our steps to match the languid pace of the jazzy cover by J. J. O’Hare. Dante enfolded me in his arms and I rested my head against his chest, lulled by the steady beat of his heart next to my ear.

  As we turned in a circle, I heard someone approaching.

  I knew it was Zo even with my eyes closed because the world tightened around me. It was like when Dante kissed me, but instead of a close and comfortable cocoon, it was a sharp-edged trap poised to snap shut.

  Dante, ever graceful, stumbled a little as we slowed to a stop.

  “Ah, so sorry,” Zo purred. “I’ve interrupted the lovebirds.”

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Dante said. He deftly turned so I was behind him, still keeping me close to him but keeping everyone else at bay.

  “That’s sweet,” Zo said. “Still trying to protect the weak and the helpless.” His eyes roamed over my face, intent and hungry.

  “I’m not weak,” I said, proud that my voice held firm. “And I’m not afraid of you.”

  Zo laughed, a vibrant roll of music. “There’s no reason you should be. I’m no threat to you.”

  Dante narrowed his eyes. “I won’t let you have her.”

  “I don’t want her.” He shrugged, a sly smile on his face. “She’s useless to me. But please, Dante, if you have found some use for her, then by all means, you should enjoy her.”

  Dante, already on edge, tensed. I think he would have swung at Zo had I not been holding his arm.

  Zo noticed. He leaned back on his heels, confident and strong, and folded his arms across his chest. The billowing sleeves of his crisp white shirt were folded back to display his chain tattoos. A bandanna covered his dark hair and a small gold hoop earring dangled from his left ear.

  He must have seen me looking because he extended a bow in my direction. “The Pirate King, at your service. I just love costume parties, don’t you?”

  The effect would have been comical on most men, but Zo wasn’t most men.

  “Let me guess, Dante—you’ve come as Charon? Why am I not surprised that you stuck to the classics. I do find it rather appropriate, though. Charon was enslaved to the river, endlessly traveling back and forth on a meaningless, uninspired errand. While I am free to travel wherever—and whenever—I wish. Ah, the life of a pirate is truly liberating. I’d recommend you try it sometime, but unfortunately, there is only one key that can allow you passage to that life, and something tells me you don’t have it anymore.”

  “Give it back,” I blurted, feeling my anger rising. “It doesn’t belong to you.”

  “Ah, the rose has thorns after all,” Zo said, showing the points of his teeth in a feral grin.

  “The door you seek won’t open for you,” Dante said quietly.

  Zo’s eyes lit on me and I shrank back against Dante’s shoulder. “I don’t need it to. I just need it to open for her.” Zo turned, extending his hand, and pulled Valerie to his side. She squeaked a little as he tightened hi
s hold and nuzzled against her neck. “My saucy little pirate wench,” he said, nipping at her earlobe.

  I hadn’t seen Valerie standing behind him in his shadow, and I barely recognized her in the flickering light of the dance. She wore a black sheath dress, form-fitting and curving in all the right places. Elbow-length gloves encased her hands and forearms in black silk. She was a shadow in the night except for the sparkling necklace encircling her throat; I wondered if Zo could afford real diamonds.

  “I’m not a wench,” she pouted. “I’m your belladonna.”

  “That’s right, love,” Zo agreed. “My deadly nightshade.”

  Valerie wriggled closer to him, placing her gloved hands on either side of his face and kissing him passionately.

  I turned away, feeling physically ill to see them together like that. I wondered if she even knew I was there or if she only had eyes for Zo now.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Dante said. “You don’t know how.”

  “Don’t I?” Zo asked, caressing Valerie’s arm draped around his neck. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Don’t do this, Zo. Please.”

  “What other choice do I have? You forced me into this, Dante. You and your accursed machine. I’ll die before I let you take this from me as well.”

  “What if it’s not you who dies?” he asked quietly.

  “Zo’s told me the risks and what might happen,” Valerie said, running a finger along the side of his neck. “And I’m willing to do it. It’s my choice.”

  I highly doubted she had made that choice on her own.

  “Why else would I have done this?” she asked, stripping off her gloves. Her pale skin flowed smooth and unmarked to her wrists, where she was cuffed with matching black chain tattoos complete with red lines of fresh pain.

  “Isn’t it amazing what some focused attention and the right song can do to a person?” Zo said, a laugh bubbling underneath his words. He reached for Valerie’s hands and kissed her wrists, right then left. “She is the best thing to come along in a long time. I don’t know how I’d do this without her.”