Death, Doom and Detention

  I crossed my arms over my chest, but before I could snip at him again, he stepped in front of me, blocking my view of Jared. When I tried to look around him into the forest, he blocked me again. So I tiptoed, trying to peek over his shoulder. Though I couldn’t quite manage it, I did get a good look at his shoulder blade. This was ridiculous.

  “What?” I grabbed his arms and finally peered around him. “What are you guys looking at?”

  Cameron reached back and took hold of my wrist, then stepped closer to Jared. “This isn’t my fight, Reaper. She’s my only concern.”

  He turned back to him. “And why do you think they’re here?”

  “Who?” I asked, but was ignored again.

  They did things like that. Spoke. Argued. Ignored.

  And enough was enough. I wrenched my wrist from Cameron’s grasp and stepped around him. “No more cryptic crap. I mean it. What is going on? What’s out there?”

  “A presence,” Cameron said, clenching his hands, on full alert.

  “I thought you said there wasn’t a presence. That the rats left the sinking ship.”

  Jared spoke then. “The normal spiritual elements are gone. This is something else. Something that shouldn’t be here.”

  Well, that couldn’t be good. But if I were as honest with myself as Brooke was, I would admit that I’d felt it too. Something skewed. Something not quite right. Then again, I did just drink strawberry vodka.

  “There’s a balance,” Jared said, turning back to us, “between the physical world and the spiritual one. The light and the darkness. And when that balance is thrown off, when the scales have been tipped to one side or the other, there is chaos. Emotions bubble. Tempers flare. Decades’ worth of animosity and resentment surface, and there is a rise in violent crimes. Those who lean toward violence anyway are naturally affected more. And those who don’t are seen as weak.”

  “Humans are swayed by more than just stress and reality TV,” Cameron said. “The spiritual world is very much a part of their makeup, whether they acknowledge it or not.”

  I thought about how my grandparents were suddenly fighting with members of the Order. Were they being affected as well?

  “And until we can figure out what is throwing the world off balance,” Cameron continued, taking hold of my arm as though afraid I would rabbit, “we need to keep you safe.”

  “Get her home,” Jared said again. “There aren’t many entities that can throw the world into turmoil.” He turned back to us, his mouth slanting into a menacing grin. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  In an instant, the space he’d occupied was empty. I barely heard him running through the trees as Cameron helped—aka dragged—me back to his truck.

  I looked up at him, trying not to trip. “What did you mean, it’s not your fight? Why is it Jared’s?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Sounded good at the time.” He stuffed me into his truck none too gently, then went around to his door.

  “How did you guys find me?”

  “Your aura isn’t exactly subtle,” he said as his truck roared to life.

  “My aura?”

  He cracked a grin. “It’s like a freaking bonfire, way brighter than that paltry excuse for a campfire you guys started.”

  “I had nothing to do with that,” I said, defensive, “you know, if the forest burns down because of it.”

  I so very much wished I could know more. Could see more. In desperation, I steeled myself for anything, then reached over and grabbed his wrist.

  He frowned at me. “I’m nephilim, shortstop. You can’t get anything off me unless I want you to. Or I’m so stunned, I can’t think straight. Sorry, but you just don’t do that to me.”

  I thought about being offended but couldn’t quite manage it.

  He pulled around to the back of the house, and I cringed. His truck wasn’t exactly quiet. I jumped down after he turned it off and headed inside, only to be brought up short.

  “In the bizarre instance that my grandparents didn’t hear that beast of yours, we can’t go up the fire escape. They’ll hear.”

  “Maybe they should,” he said, walking up behind me. He eyed me as though I were a naughty schoolgirl who deserved to be punished.

  “Oh, please.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Like you’ve never drunk a beer.”

  With a shrug, he hauled me over his shoulder. I squeaked in protest.

  “I’ve had a few beers. They don’t do anything for me.”

  “This is so uncomfortable,” I said as he climbed the fire escape as quiet as a church mouse. “I have got to learn how you guys do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “And what do you mean, they don’t do anything for you? You don’t like the way they make you feel?” I wasn’t going to admit it, but I was right there with him. Tipsy, buzzed, drunk—whatever the colloquialism, it sucked. If the world would quit spinning, I would get off and wait for the next one to come by.

  He slid open the window and sat me on the sill. “No, I mean they do nothing for me. I don’t feel any different. I don’t think I can get inebriated like you.”

  Brooke’s voice burst into the quiet like a freight train barreling through town at midnight. “You’re inebriated?” she screeched.

  I scrambled inside, stumbling over a chair leg, and slammed my hand over her mouth. A single lamp lit the room, casting more shadows than light, but I could see the shock in her huge eyes.

  She mumbled through my hand. “You’ve been drinking?”

  “Sh-h-h.”

  “Alcohol?”

  Shushing her with an index finger across my lips, I said, “Only a little.”

  She broke free of my grip. “Lorelei Elizabeth McAlister.”

  Great. Time to be judged again. “What are you doing here anyway?” I peeled off my jacket as Cameron climbed in and closed the window against the crisp night air.

  “Cameron called me.”

  I glared at the traitor before sinking onto my bed. Completely unaffected, he turned to stare into the darkness.

  Brooke sat beside me. “Why would you go to that party, Lor? What could you possibly have had to gain?”

  “I don’t know.” Leaning against the headboard, I clutched a pillow to my chest. How could I tell her that I just wanted to know what it felt like to be normal? That I just wanted to belong? And that I was super curious why Tabitha had invited me in the first place.

  I couldn’t miss the hurt that flashed across her face before she reined it in. “Did you think that going to a party without me would earn you brownie points with the cool kids?”

  “What? No. Why would you even say that?”

  “Why would you even go to that moronic party? Especially with everything that’s going on?”

  “No,” I said, suddenly annoyed. “In lieu of everything that’s going on. Don’t you just want to forget it? To pretend that there’s nothing wrong with us?”

  She leaned back, clearly offended. “Wrong with us?”

  “Oh, my god, Brooke, look at us. The only normal one in our bunch is Glitch, and that’s debatable on his best day. We have an angelic being, a nephilim, a girl who was possessed and has a cracked aura to prove it—”

  “Don’t dis my crack.”

  “And then there’s me. Whoopty-freaking-do. Oh, yes, the world will surely be saved now. And by whom? By us. The misfits of Torrance County. We are supposed to stop a war between good and evil? When we can barely make it to school on time, we are destined to safeguard humanity?”

  She put a hand on my knee, her face knowing. Sympathetic. “You mean you.”

  I stilled. Questioned her with my eyes.

  “You mean you are supposed to stop a war.”

  I swallowed hard with the reminder. “I just don’t want it anymore. I don’t want the prophecy, the visions, any of it.”

  “But why?” She grew animated, her movements exaggerated. “Your visions were so cool. You could’ve changed people’s lives with them, Lor. You cou
ld’ve helped people.”

  I wanted to scoff at her. To rant and rave about how wrong she was.

  She bit her bottom lip in thought, and I could see the wheels spinning. “We just need to practice more. That’s it. I’m sure you’ll get them back.”

  My next statement was little more than a whisper, but I couldn’t keep going on like this. It wasn’t fair to her. To either of us. Gathering my courage, I said, “I never lost them.”

  “What?” she said, sobering.

  I shifted away from her. Plucked at the pillow. “The visions. I never lost them.” I looked up to gauge her reaction. “In fact, they’re so strong, so fierce, I can’t control them. They come at me like missiles. They punch me in the gut. They tear through my heart. They make me sick. Every single one.”

  She scooted closer. “You’re still having them?”

  “Yes.”

  The surprise on her face confirmed she really had no idea. “Lor, why didn’t you tell me? Why would you lie about that?”

  “Because I don’t want them.”

  “Why? Why would you not want something so miraculous?”

  “Miraculous?” That time I did scoff. “You call what happens to me miraculous?” I drew in a ragged breath and readied myself to give her the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Curling my fingers into the pillow, I asked, “Did you know there is a student at Riley High who was raped last year?”

  Her eyes widened, but I barreled forward, afraid if I stopped, I wouldn’t be able to start again.

  “She never told anyone, because she thinks it was her fault. She keeps it bottled up inside.” I leaned into her. “Do you know what it’s like to be raped, Brooke? Because I do. Now I know exactly what it feels like. It is a complete and savage violation of body and soul.”

  Stammering, Brooke said, “I-I didn’t know.”

  “Then did you know that another student is planning to kill himself?”

  Her expression morphed into a mixture of shock and sympathy. “No.”

  “Not just thinking about it. Planning every moment. He’s going to do it with his father’s gun. Do you know what it feels like to be that desperate? That lost?” Before she could answer, I asked, “And do you know what it feels like when a bullet enters the roof of your mouth and blows the top of your head off?” I was shaking with the memory of something that had yet to come to pass. My stomach lurched as I heard the gun go off. As I felt, for just a split second, a bullet enter my brain before everything went black.

  “Lorelei,” she said, her voice faltering, “I’m so sorry.”

  “And did you know that there is another student who will die in a motorcycle accident this summer? Or another who is almost going to die of exposure and dehydration when he goes rock climbing with a friend in Utah and gets lost in the desert? Do you know what it feels like when your kidneys shut down? When your tongue swells to three times its normal size until you can barely talk? Barely swallow?”

  She put a hand on mine. “I’m so sorry, Lor.”

  “You don’t understand. I don’t just see what happens to them. I feel it. Every ounce of horror. Every wave of nausea. Every pang of heartache. I’m right there with them. And I get everything—every emotion, every jolt of pain—in a blinding flash that leaves me in a stupor. The aftermath lingers for days on end. I can’t eat. I can’t concentrate.”

  Her hand pressed against her mouth as tears spilled over her lashes and onto her cheeks.

  I gazed into her huge brown eyes, not wanting to offend her, but hoping—no, praying—that she would understand. I was not prying when I saw what had happened to her. I would never do such a thing. It came to me when I least expected it. When we were working on a science project in lab. It was just there.

  “And did you know that another student at Riley High was almost abducted when she was seven? That a man reached out of his car and grabbed her as she was on her way home from the store? That terror filled her so completely, she wet her pants?”

  Brooke stilled in disbelief for a second, then she fell into the memory like a skydiver during free fall, her expression blank, void of anything but that moment in time.

  “And when she wrenched free of him, ripping her shirt and staining it with the orange Popsicle she dropped, she ran all the way home, too scared to scream, too in shock to cry. But she never told her mother. She wasn’t supposed to go to the store by herself. Ever. And she was more worried about getting in trouble for that than turning the man in. So she never told anyone.”

  After taking a moment to let the memory resurface, Brooke stood and stepped back, struggled to absorb the fact that I knew.

  “How would you suggest that I tell her that?” I asked, my voice soft, empathetic. “The student who wet her pants and told her mom she’d fallen in a puddle of water? How should I approach her and tell her that I know one of her most guarded secrets? Do you think she would believe me?”

  I hadn’t missed the clenching of Cameron’s fists when I talked about Brooke’s memory. The tensing of his jaw. He cared for her deeply. That much was obvious. And I was glad because of it. To have a nephilim on your side could only be a good thing. He was super strong and super fast and could protect her from so many of life’s dangers. Like pedophiles.

  “I don’t want this anymore, Brooke. Any of it.”

  She blinked back to me, but before she could respond, Glitch lifted the window. “What’d I miss?” he asked, his gaze bouncing between the two of us. Alarm flitted across his face when he saw Brooke. Then again when he saw me, and I realized I was crying.

  I wiped furiously at my wet cheeks and strode to the bathroom. Apparently, Cameron had called the whole gang.

  “What happened?” Glitch asked Brooke as I closed the door and swiped at the tears, angry at what I’d seen, angrier that I’d shocked Brooke, that I’d hurt her with a memory she’d tucked into the farthest reaches of her consciousness, trying desperately to forget.

  Oh, yeah. These visions were great.

  BEEN THERE, DONE THAT

  Since I’d been honest with Brooke, I had no choice but to tell Glitch the truth about my visions as well. He was surprised. And then a little hurt. Then a little angry. Then sympathetic. And about twenty seconds after all his emotions boiled and bubbled beneath his coppery surface, he settled on understanding and supportive.

  “We’re staying over all weekend if we can get away with it,” he said. “But seriously, Cameron needs to go for pizza.”

  Cameron scowled over his shoulder. “Okay, and while I’m gone, can you protect Lorelei from any supernatural threats that might come her way?”

  “I’ll go for pizza,” he corrected. Thankfully, the Pizza Place stayed open until midnight on Friday and Saturday nights.

  An hour later, we were having a slumber party complete with pepperoni pizza, orange soda, and an ’80s movie about kids in detention who become unlikely friends.

  “Shouldn’t Jared be back by now?” I asked Cameron, growing more concerned by the minute.

  He took another bite of pizza and shrugged. He was so helpful.

  I stood and looked out the window. “My grandparents are sending me away.”

  Everyone stopped what they were doing and gaped at me.

  “They got in a fight with several members of the Order about it, but they’re resolute. They think it’s become too dangerous, and they’re sending me away.”

  Cameron frowned as though confused, as though the mere thought was unfathomable.

  “Did you remind them how insane that is?” Glitch asked.

  “I didn’t talk to them about it. I overheard.”

  “Then I’m going with you,” Brooke said, indignation raising her chin. “They can’t separate us. We’re practically twins.”

  * * *

  Glitch took the floor. Cameron took Brooke’s bed since it was closest to the window seat and he could stare out the window in his broody way and still get some rest. And Brooke had insisted. She slept with me on my b
ed, and while we were small, we still had to snuggle really close to get comfortable. Twin beds weren’t exactly made for two, but it was nice having her so close. About an hour after we all settled in, I still couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Jared. Was he still out there? Back in his apartment? Was he still on guard duty or sleeping?

  Cameron gave it his all, sitting on the bed instead of lying in it, but even he had dozed off. Glitch had joined him, snoring softly into the carpet after stuffing the pillow I gave him between his legs and cradling it. He would have quite the cheek imprint come morning.

  Brooke whispered softly into my ear. “What about Glitch and Cameron? Did you see what happened to them on that camping trip that spring break? Have you seen that in your visions?”

  I turned to face her, our noses mere inches apart in the dark room. “No,” I whispered back, hoping not to wake Cameron, since we were talking about him and all. “I’ve tried very hard not to, in fact. It’s just— It’s such a violation.”

  “But if you’re not doing it on purpose, if you’re not controlling it—”

  “I used to think that too, but it’s all I can do to make it through a school day without throwing up or becoming suicidal. I just try my best to avoid visions whenever and wherever possible.”

  She took my hands into hers and lifted them to her mouth. “I’m so terribly sorry, Lor. All the pushing I’ve done, all the nagging, and you were just trying to get through the day.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I just wish I had known. I wish I had picked up on it instead of making your life worse.”

  I smiled, wondering yet again what I’d done to deserve her. “You couldn’t make my life worse if I paid you to.”

  The smile that widened across her face like the New Mexico sky made me rethink my last statement. She crinkled her nose. “Bet I could.”

  I laughed softly. “Okay, I bet you could too.”

  She sobered, bit her lip, looked at me from underneath her ridiculously thick lashes. “Lor, why didn’t you tell me?”

  My lids closed with regret. “I’d planned to, but when I saw what happened to you, when I saw your past, I just didn’t know how. I felt like I was doing something wrong. Something invasive. And I just wanted it to stop.”