Chapter Seventeen
I slowly maneuvered an oversized SUV up the driveway of Sam's house. I'd made the valet hand over the keys to the closest vehicle. Naturally, that turned out to be a hulking behemoth, clearly designed to comfortably seat an entire soccer team.
The transmission made a sound of protest as I forced it into park and let the engine idle. Sam didn't try to get out. She just stared out the windshield into the darkness, still as carved stone.
I shut off the car and the silence deepened.
"Are you okay?" I finally asked.
Sam turned to look at me, her eyes haunted. "What happened tonight, Hex?"
"Are you sure you want to talk about this now?"
"Tell me what happened!" She shrieked, startling me.
There was no hope for it now.
"Magic," I said softly. The word struck the silence like a hammer blow.
Sam stared at me. The whites of her eyes seemed overly bright in the car's dark interior.
"Magic," I repeated when it was clear she wasn't going to speak.
She blinked.
"Like sorcery," I said, unnerved by her silence. "Paranormal manipulation of the material world. Magic."
Sam pushed open her door and left the car. It took a moment to register before I jumped out after her. I caught up to her at the front door of her house where she fumbled with a set of keys.
"Sam, wait."
She turned on me with a snarl. "You're just vicious, you know that." She jammed a key into the lock but her hands were shaking to badly to get it to turn. "Something horrible happened to me tonight and now you're mocking me."
"I swear I'm not. You have no idea what it means that I'm telling you this."
"Fine." She abandoned the keys and turned on me. Her voice was cutting. "Then prove it."
"Prove it?"
"That's right. Do something magical." She invested the word with a healthy amount of disdain.
"Okay." I swallowed hard. The hole I was digging for myself just seemed to get deeper and deeper. I glanced around.
A neglected rosebush was planted next to the front door, its handful of small blossoms wilted and pale. I laid my hand gently against the smallest bud. It slowly opened, unfurling delicate petals that burst with bright color, a red that was vibrant and alive even in the meager porch light.
Sam gasped and leaned closer. She inhaled deeply. "It smells amazing." The heady scent of damask floated up to sweeten the air.
I regretfully pulled my hand away and the bloom folded again into a meager bud, its color fading into the darkness.
"Ta-da," I said lamely.
"My God." She gave me a wide-eyed stare. "Do you have any idea what this means?" She asked excitedly.
"No, not really."
"Magic is real." She practically shouted the words.
I frantically shushed her. "Keep your voice down."
"This whole time I've been rambling on about druid nature rituals. You must have thought I was so dumb."
"Not dumb." I was quick to reassure her. "Naïve, maybe."
"Is that why you didn't want me meeting your family?" she asked. "This is some kind of big secret."
"That's one of the reasons. Look," I sighed. "I don't do bad magic." At least not anymore, a voice in my head added. "The rest of my family isn't so principled."
"Something bad was supposed to happen tonight, wasn't it?" Her voice was soft. She already knew the answer to her question.
"Really bad." I shuddered. There was no going back for either of us now. "You can't tell anyone about this." Her face fell. "I mean it, Sam."
"What happens now?" Her voice turned frantic. "Will they come after me?"
"No," I said with more conviction than I felt. "I'll take care of it." Valentine's face swam in my vision. He was like a compulsion and it was getting harder to resist.
"God, this is so exciting."
I envied her sense of wonder. She was like a kid meeting the Santa Claus at the mall for the first time.
"I should probably get back," I said.
"What are you going to tell them?"
"About you?"
Sam nodded.
"You got knocked out by the blast." I shrugged. "You don't remember anything."
"And your family will believe you?" Sam worried at her lip with her teeth.
"It'll be fine." I was tired, emotionally and physically worn out. "I'll see you at school on Monday."
I waited for Sam to slip into her house and flip off the porch light before I backed the SUV carefully down the driveway. The conviction I showed Sam began to wane as I drove. My little display may have been enough to make Marco back off. That, or he would just see it as a challenge. Sam wouldn't be safe until he was gone.
I arrived home just in time to miss the spring sacrifice. The smell of blood and fear assaulted my nostrils when I pushed open the door. The goat that lay dead on a white sheet in the center of the ballroom was a tragic sight, but it could have been so much worse.
Marco waited for me at the top of the stairs and this time he was alone. I approached him cautiously. He leaned against the rail with his arms crossed over his chest. His posture was cavalier but his eyes were cold.
"You're missing the party." I stopped several steps below him.
"It's winding down." He smiled but there was little humor in it.
"Ready for another go around?" My voice was filled with bravado but I wouldn't even dare pass him on the stairs. If he truly wanted to, Marco would wipe the floor with me.
"You mean this?" He indicated his bandage-wrapped arms. "I do owe you one."
He came down the stairs, towering menacingly over me. I held my ground.
"I'm leaving town tonight," he continued conversationally. "But I'll be back."
"Have a good trip." Sarcasm dripped from my voice. Goading my brother wasn't the best idea, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.
"I'd forgotten how much fun it could be to come home." The menace in his voice was unmistakable. "Tell your delicious little friend that I'll see her again, soon."
"Tell her yourself," I whispered. "And then I can kill you."
He coughed an incredulous laugh. "You're threatening me? That's precious."
"Try me," I said through clenched teeth.
Marco slid past me and his laughter trailed behind him as he moved lithely down the stairs. "Goodbye, little sister."
The fight drained from my body as he disappeared from view, leaving me feeling tired and drained. I got to my bedroom to find that Marise had packed up as well. Her travel bag was gone from the foot of the bed and the riot of clothing that had decorated the floor that morning was gone too.
I made sure to throw the lock on the door after closing it softly behind me. Not that it would do any good. The sort of monsters hiding in my closet wouldn't be put off by a simple lock. But it did make me feel a little better.
Whenever my eyes closed Valentine's face swam in my vision, his eyes glinting like fallen stars. I tried to sleep, but his sneering smile never wavered, whether he inflicted pleasure or pain.
Keeping Sam safe had been my priority tonight. I'd had to ignore everything else. But when I lay in the bed with only the darkness and the silence for company, the truth was impossible to ignore. I could still feel those powerful flames as they rushed through me, threatening to consume my soul.
Power was seductive. It licked and curled inside of me, begging to be released. I'd done it once, twice, too many times to count. With a little bit of effort I could protect myself and no one in my family would stand against me.
Seventh-born of the seventh-born.
Invincible.
Valentine saw it in me when I passed him with Sam. That look of instant recognition on his face scared me more than anything. I was one small step from the edge of a precipice.
Falling.
I recognized something else in his eyes too. He allowed himself just the smallest hint of satisfaction. The demonic pleasure of Hades as h
e dragged Persephone down to hell.
I burrowed deeper into the covers, fighting a sudden chill despite the warmth in the room. I was sure of only one thing.
Eventually, he would come for me.
Sunday passed by in a blur. A cleaning service returned the house to rights one trash bag at a time as Leonora stood over them like a drill sergeant to ensure even the smallest vase survived unscathed. It was a startling realization as the lazy day passed that I might actually make it to school on Monday.
The families were trickling slowly out of town. No one had died and Valentine was gone. At least for now. Now all I had to worry about was a weekend's worth of unfinished homework.
By Monday morning, my mood bordered on marginal excitement. The families had all faded into the night like vampires fleeing the sun. Marco and Marise returned to their homes to continue their plans for eventual world domination. My parents left Sunday afternoon for a weeklong business trip to New York City.
The house was quiet. Peaceful.
The housekeeper left a plate of muffins out for me on the kitchen counter with a note to have a nice day at school, signed with a smiley face. She felt it too. It was like a shade had finally been lifted on a dark room to let in some much needed sunlight.
Sam waited for me when I got to school. She waved and I responded by running up the steps and wrapping my arms around her.
"Whoa," she said with a laugh. "Affectionate much?"
"I'm just so happy to see you." We walked arm in arm down the stone path. "It's a gorgeous day today, isn't it?"
Sam pretended to take my temperature with the back of her hand. "Did you up your meds when I wasn't looking?"
"Seriously." I pulled back. "I just feel good today."
Cynthie sat on a bench in the pavilion with Noelle and Jade hovering around her. She cast a glance at our entwined arms but said nothing, her expression sardonic. I pulled Sam away quickly.
Students gathered outside the main building, waiting for the bell, and we moved towards the crowd.
Sam stopped me with a hand on my arm. "About what happened this weekend—"
I stopped her with a quick movement of my hand. "We'll talk, I promise. Just not right now."
"Okay," she agreed with an unhappy sigh. "It's just so unreal. Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for something like this?"
Like what, I wanted to ask. To face mortal danger at the hands of a magical psychopath. My good mood faded. There was no way to explain to her that magic was less sparkling fairy dust and more demon lovers trying to steal your soul.
My emotions were in turmoil as I turned away from Sam and continued down the path. The one thing that stood out was regret. I'd made a mistake. My brother's laughing threat sounded in my ears. I couldn't protect Sam forever.
"I left my history book in the locker," I said suddenly. "I need to grab it before first bell."
I left before she had a chance to respond. I felt bad as I jogged down the path to the main building, but maybe it was for the best. Showing magic to Sam—even worse, teaching her how to use it—would get both of us killed. The Blooded didn't ask questions and they didn't show mercy.
What good is power if everyone has it?
I shook the thoughts away and tried to get back the pleasant feeling that had so completely dissipated. I could put a stop to things with Sam now, before they got out of control. All I needed to do was think of an excuse that wouldn't destroy our friendship.
First bell rang in the distance. I cursed and ran, almost crushing a blonde freshman as I shoved open the double doors to the building. With a shouted apology, I sprinted down the hallway towards my locker. I careened around a corner, almost skidding into the wall, when I stopped short.
Zach leaned against the bay of lockers, casting worried glances at the large clock under a wire frame that hung on the wall. He saw me as I came around the corner and grinned.
"Cutting it close again?" he asked with a smile.
I slid past him without replying and went to my locker. My fingers deftly spun the combination and I had the locker open, book in hand and the locker closed again in record time.
"Did you have a good weekend?" Zach followed me down the hallway.
I ignored him.
"Hey." He grabbed my arm. "What's wrong with you?"
"Tardy bell's about to ring," I said shortly and pulled away. "I have to get to class."
It hurt to be so cruel to him, to watch the golden brown of his eyes fill with hurt. I wanted to turn around, leap into his arms and beg him for forgiveness. Being with Zach was the only simple thing in my life.
The situation with Sam made my decision for me. There was no guarantee I could keep my heritage a secret forever. Sam was proof of that. I couldn't risk something happening to Zach. I steeled myself against the part of me that begged to go back to him. His safety was more important than my love life.
I slid into my seat in History moments before the tardy bell. Zach came in behind me and I studiously avoided his gaze.
Mr. Biggs didn't turn from the chalkboard where he stood, painfully writing a detailed timeline of the American Civil War. Sam raised her eyebrows but kept her mouth shut at the look on my face. I flipped open my notebook and started mechanically taking down notes.
The school day dragged. I spent most of the morning doing Mission Impossible style tactics down the hallways to avoid running into Zach. During lunch, I hid in an abandoned corner of the school library where even Sam couldn't find me. By the afternoon, I was exhausted.
I stood outside of the music room and debated whether to go to class or throw myself headfirst into the nearest utility closet. Zach was already there. Even over the other instruments, I could hear the soft play of notes as he tuned his guitar.
Ms. Tripoli appeared at my side so suddenly that I jumped in surprise, almost dropping my books. I cast her a guilty look.
"Will you be joining us, Ms. Wayward?" She asked with a soft smile.
I sighed as she ushered me into the room. The sound of the door closing behind me was like a final nail in my coffin.
Zach didn't look up from his sheet music as I took my usual seat next to him. The stiffening of his shoulders and the slight angling of his body away from mine was so small that I wouldn't have caught it if I wasn't paying attention.
I deserved it, but it still hurt. I was dying to reassure him but an image of Sam laid out like a virgin sacrifice swam in my vision. It was better this way.
I picked up my triangle and banged it hard with the metal beater. The discordant note momentarily quieted the room before conversation slowly resumed. Zach had jumped at the sound but when I glanced at him, he only bent over the music stand and made careful notes with a mechanical pencil.
Ms. Tripoli moved in front the classroom. A conductor's baton was stuck into the large bun on the top of her head and strands twisted around her face.
"This hour is for working on your showcase projects." Her words were punctuated with sharp movements of her hands like a maestro in front of the symphony. "I will be coming around to make sure you stay on task."
Ms. Tripoli wound her way through the maze of chairs until she hovered over me. "You can read this during independent study." She held out a book to me and I glanced at the title. The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, Volume One.
"Great," I said, taking it. "I love reading the dictionary."
"Attitude, Ms. Wayward." Ms. Tripoli walked behind Zach and read the music over his shoulder. Her lips moved as if she could turn the notes into words. "This is coming along nicely, Mr. Yarrow." She patted him on the shoulder. "I'm looking forward to seeing it performed at the showcase."
Zach's smile was bright as the sun when Ms. Tripoli moved away. He caught me looking at him and his eyes narrowed before he turned away.
I drummed my fingers against the empty music stand. Every student in the room was engrossed in their individual assignments. My triangle lay abandoned on the floor a
nd I kicked at it feebly with one foot.
Ms. Tripoli cast me a steely-eyed stare from her desk. With a heavy sigh, I tipped open the book so it sprawled across my lap.
Zach's movements were exaggerated in the periphery of my vision. Each time he shifted in his seat or leaned forward to write on his sheet music, I was convinced he leaned towards me. But when I glanced surreptitiously at him, Zach sat turned away in the opposite side of his chair, as far from me as he could get.
My fingers twitched against the pages of the music dictionary. I knew I'd regret the decision before my mouth opened but I couldn't stop myself.
"A triangle player is called a triangulaire," I said casually. "Sounds fancy, right?"
Zach turned to face me slowly and the coldness in his eyes hit me like a dart through the chest. When he spoke his voice was incredulous. "You really are a piece of work."
I closed the book and turned to face him. Fighting was better than the silent treatment. "Oh, yeah?"
"Are you crazy or just messing with me?" His gaze bored into mine. "Either way, I'm over it."
A pang ran through my chest. "I'm sorry.".
He cut me off. "Not interested."
"Just hear me out," I said desperately.
Zach laid down his pencil and gave me a wordless stare.
"There are things about me that you don't know," I said finally. "I'm not like other girls."
"Don't kid yourself," he replied with an angry laugh. "You're just like other girls, vain and selfish."
"You don't know anything about me."
"I thought I did." His voice was cold.
There was nothing for me to say.
"I used to think you were kind of amazing." He shrugged and turned away. "My mistake."
My hand was on his arm before I was conscious of moving toward him. I felt his bicep tense through the thin cotton of his black t-shirt but he didn't pull away. The steady drum of his heartbeat thrummed along my fingers. I couldn't let him go, no matter what the cost.
"So I'm a little crazy." I tried for a winning smile. "That's why you like me."
Zach eyed me warily. "I think crazy is a bit of an understatement."
The words were cutting, but his tone had softened. I slid my hand down his arm until our fingers intertwined. I squeezed his hand lightly and after a long moment he returned the gesture.
"Can we start over?" I cursed my own weakness.
He raised an eyebrow. "Am I going to regret it?"
I pretended to think for a second. "Definitely."
"How can I resist?" He smiled despite the light note of sarcasm. He let go of my hand and tapped his pencil lightly against the music stand. "I don't think I'll ever meet a girl quite like you again."
My mood darkened again. I stared at Zach's open, honest face and all of the dark emotions that I tamped down swam slowly to the surface. A deep, roiling fear churned in my gut. Just like Sam, friendship with me put him at risk. The next time my family threatened I might not be as lucky.
I shook away the feelings of dread. The sun was shining and Zach liked me again. Everything else could wait.
"You have no idea," I said softly.
Zach opened his mouth to reply but Ms. Tripoli chose that moment to walk past our row. Her eagle-eyed gaze took in my closed book and his abandoned sheet music. We quickly pretended industry before she swooped in to threaten extra homework or detention for being off task.
Even if I wasn't reading the world's most boring book, it would have been difficult to stay focused on the assignment. I could feel the slight movements of Zach's body as he breathed in and out. The heat of him burned along my skin where our bodies barely touched.
When Ms. Tripoli moved away, Zach whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "You have plans for Friday night?"
I imagined another furious ride on the back of his Indian and shivered in anticipation. It took an effort not to jump out of my seat with eagerness. "Free and clear. What do you have in mind?" I pitched my voice low to avoid the notice of Ms. Tripoli, who was only a few rows away.
He leaned closer by an almost imperceptible degree. "The winter formal is on Friday," he whispered. "Do you want to go with me?"
I sprang back like I'd been burned. "You want to do what in the who now?"
My voice came out shrill enough to make Zach wince. Ms. Tripoli cast a sharp look our way and I quickly focused on the music dictionary in my lap.
After a few moments, he whispered again. "Not your thing, huh?"
"Not exactly." Visions of cruising the coastal highway at sunset faded into nightmares of pastel ball gowns and bad pop music.
Picking up on the disappointment in my voice, Zach shrugged apologetically. "I'm taking pictures for the yearbook so I have to be there. It would be cool if you came with me."
"No, thank you." I stuck out my tongue in childish protest. "Save your tedious high school rituals for the next girl."
He gave me puppy dog eyes. "Don't make me go alone."
I found myself agreeing that putting on a poufy dress and uncomfortable shoes, then taking pictures to chronicle how ridiculous I looked, would be a good way to spend a Friday evening. I reminded myself to never look Zach in the eyes when he was trying to convince me to do something. He was too cute to disappoint.
We were the last ones out of the classroom after the bell. Zach hesitated in the doorway with a hand lightly touching my arm. With a furtive glance into the hall, he leaned forward and brushed a light kiss over my lips.
The moment didn't last long enough. He gave me a cheeky smile and disappeared into the surging crowd forming in the hallway.
My lips were still tingling when I met Sam by the lockers.
"Last period with Zach. Somebody's in love," she crooned with a smile.
"Oh, stop." I buried my reddened face in the locker.
Sam balanced a stack of books carefully in her arms. "I have good news, too."
I rummaged in the locker, rearranging textbooks and papers, but I'd already forgotten what I was looking for. When I tried to remember what I needed to grab before going home, all I could see was Zach's smiling face.
Sam was giving me a knowing look and I shook myself back into the present. "News is good. What news?"
She paused for effect. "I have a date for the winter formal."
"That's great, Sam."
"If only you could convince Zach that school dances won't ruin that moody, antiestablishment thing he's got going."
I felt my face heating up. Sam noticed my sudden embarrassment and pressed closer. "What?" she asked.
"Zach already asked me to the dance."
"Are you serious?" she shrieked. I winced and a group of sophomores gave us strange looks as they passed.
"I think you punctured my eardrum." I pulled on my earlobe to kill the buzzing sound.
Sam grabbed my arm, practically hopping up and down. "This is so great. Now we can go together."
I didn't share in her enthusiasm. "So great," I agreed lamely.
We walked slowly down the hallway. At least I walked, Sam practically skipped down the linoleum.
"What are you going to wear?" Sam asked as we passed through the double doors and headed outside.
I glanced down at my tattered jeans and oversized flannel shirt. "There's something wrong with this?"
"Maybe you could go a little more festive." She said gently. "Come to my house after school and we'll figure something out."
Sam disappeared into the parking lot with a wave and I walked alone to my car. The thought of squeezing myself into a prom dress so I could dance the night away to the musical stylings of the local top-40 DJ was almost as scary as the idea of a Wayward family reunion.
At least among my family, there was always the chance of being put out of your misery before the fun really got started. I was going to face a school gym decorated to look like an under-the-sea wonderland without even the hope of a quick demise.