Chapter 21
Asher left her standing in the middle of Main after sundown. She looked around at the ghost town of shops. The only light on the street was coming from Zinny’s bar.
“Hello.”
Ember lowered her eyes from the stars. It seemed that there were so many more on Tulukaruk. Acton was standing in front of her in the delta of darkness cast by her shadow cutting through the light from the bar window behind her. “Hey.”
She stood in tense silence, waiting for Acton to say something. He finally cleared his throat.
“Shall we?” He took two steps forward, gesturing towards the bar.
Ember smiled, looking at her feet and shaking her head.
Acton stopped. “What?”
“Asher said that earlier.” She looked back up at him. “Was that you, doing what you do? Controling him?”
“No, I don’t force Asher often,” Acton said, pleased that she would take an interest in his talent. “He’s too unpredictable to be easily controlled, and he has a way of making me regret it.”
Biting her lip, Ember put her hands in her pockets and mulled his words. It was cold out, but she wasn’t going to go with him willingly until her questions were answered.
“How many times was it you?” she asked. “How many times was I talking to someone, when I was really talking to you?”
Acton sighed, running a hand over his face, and then fixing his gaze on her. “That’s an interesting question. Would you trust my answer?”
She shook her head. “Probably not. I guess we’ll see.”
“Isaac is too wild to be in public most days. He would get himself killed if I didn’t lend him some restraint,” Acton said, walking closer to her. “Most of the time, you were talking to me, but not the last time when he gave you the book. Asher, on occasion. Anyone here when it suits me, and even Thalia and your mother a handful of times—lightly, of course. But never Zinny, because she would kill me.” His eyes narrowed and he lifted his chin. “Also, your roommate. The little girl with the spiders, the night I convinced you to come back.”
Nodding, Ember looked at the ground. She had suspected as much. Acton had always been curious about her ambivalence toward the creatures. It was one of the only things he had known about her, and he had used it as a selling point to gain her trust. “Why did you bring me back here?”
Acton crossed his arms. “Your mother said something to Thalia, about me, and I wanted to get back at her. Thalia is her world, and I knew that attacking her would push her over the edge. So—”
“So, you went and found the other daughter.” She brought her hand to her face for a moment, but then crossed her arms again. Her cheek was cold, but her fingers were freezing in the light wind. “The one that she cared about less.”
“Exactly.” Acton gave her a nod. It wasn’t exactly true, but he knew that allowing her to run with her instinct was much more convenient than explaining the truth. “Does this mean that you’re going to run away now, like any sane person would?”
“What are we doing here, then?” Ember asked. “Are we friends?”
Acton smiled lightly, peaking his fingers under his chin as he started to pace. “No, not friends. We’re just me, and a girl I should have killed a long time ago.”
Ember shook her head and licked her lips. “Are you planning to keep me?”
“Perhaps,” Acton said, stopping behind her. “But likely not. Why, would you like that? God knows you need someone to claim you, and you won’t do better than me.”
“But?” Ember turned around to face him.
“But you’re a lot of work.” Acton shrugged. “You need food, and sleep, and you’re weak. You can’t keep up.”
Ember shook her head back and forth. “And if you won’t keep me here, then my mother will send me away.”
“I strongly suspect so.” He leaned forward, white teeth glinting as he smiled wide. “Em, what are you suggesting?”
Ember closed her eyes; she didn’t know what she was doing. It felt like she was getting ready to blow out the birthday candles and make a wish, and she was wishing for something she wasn’t sure that she wanted. It wasn’t something glamorous, or shiny, or amazing. She was wishing for something practical, because after everything she had been through in her life, the last several weeks—most of which she couldn’t even remember—were the most memorable.
“I want roots, Acton. I want a family.” She tried to slow down the words as they escaped. “I want to stay.”
Acton crossed his arms, shaking his head as he looked at the ground.
“You want me to keep you,” he said sharply, “until you can prove something to Gina. You only want me until she wants you. I know how psychology works.”
“No.” Shaking her head furiously, Ember closed the distance between them with one quick step. “I can’t be with her knowing that she never wanted me. I can’t have them.”
“You can never have me, either.” Acton shrugged, giving her a sardonic look. “It’s no different. Why would you want me to keep you?”
“You’ve been kind to me. No one’s ever been kind to me unless I lied to them or they were getting paid.”
“I haven’t, and even though you don’t remember, I think you know that’s true. You feel it in your heart, and I see it in your eyes.”
“You’ve been kind to me in your way,” Ember said forcefully. “Which is more than I can say for Gina.”
In the silence that followed, Ember felt proud of herself for the first time since she had arrived. If there had been crickets, they would have been chirping, but in their absence, there was only quiet.
Acton took a breath in to speak before he responded. “I’ll agree with you on that point. But why should I keep you?”
She knew she didn’t have anything to offer to him, other than the torture he could inflict on the Gillespie household, and even that was waning. Gina had all but renounced her.
“Because…” Ember tried to choose her words carefully. “Because, if you do me this favor, I’ll do anything you want. I’ve seen enough to know that you take care of your…your…”
“Go on,” Acton said stoically, and Ember knew that she was on thin ice. She didn’t know if it was appropriate to call Acton’s accomplices friends or colleagues. His own definition of them seemed to change with his needs.
“You take care of Isaac,” Ember said, taking a moment to breathe.
“He’s my brother, and he serves a purpose,” Acton replied. “It’s different.”
Ember shook her head; she was losing ground. “I don’t serve a purpose?”
“You did.” Acton was starting to sound bored. “But it’s done. I don’t have a use for you unless I turn you, and Gina’s made her stance on that clear. If I turn you, she’ll kill you. I have no use for a confused little girl. You should go back to school. Meet someone, get married, and have kids—make your roots that way. You know what I am, and what I enjoy, Em. I saw your face when Kaylee’s fingers fell off, and you saw mine. Why would you want to kept by someone like me?”
He laughed as he said the part about her marrying and having kids. He didn’t believe any more than she did that she would ever live a normal life. No one loved her—not even her own mother. She had made friends, and they liked her, but it wasn’t the same thing. There would never be a husband, and there would never be any children.
She pulled out the knife that she had tucked into her jeans when she changed. Thalia had left it for her protection. Acton looked down at the blade, glinting yellow between them as it caught the bar lights. To his credit, he didn’t try to move away.
“If you try to cut me again—”
“Tell me what to do with it.” Ember swallowed. Her throat had gone dry. “Tell me what to do with it, and I’ll do it. If that’s what I have to do to stay, I’ll do it.”
With her heart racing, she finally looked up. The expression on Acton’s face took her off guard, and she had never seen him taken off guard before.
He was glancing down at the knife like it was something dirty and illicit.
“That’s why you should keep me,” she said quickly. “Because you enjoy the pain, and even Isaac can’t give this to you. Tell me what to do with the knife, Acton.”
Acton looked back down at the knife she held between them, speechless. He started to shake his head, and Ember panicked. With one quick motion, she took the blade and pressed it to her wrist, dragging hard until she felt it pulled from her fingertips.
She watched her own blood run down her fingertips. It didn’t even hurt. It was gushing so fast that it was falling in drops onto the ground. When she finally let her breath go, she felt faint. The air rushing into her lungs felt cold, and a ragged pain suddenly stabbed up the length of her arm. Acton was holding her head to his chest, resting his chin on her head as he quietly shushed her. Looking down at the ground, and her blood seeping into the island, she smiled at the prospect that part of her would never leave. No one could change it now.
The blade of her knife sticking out of Acton’s bloodied pocket as he wrapped his hand around her wrist and squeezed. She gasped, turning her head away.
“That was a stupid thing to do…” He hissed in her ear. “Very, very stupid. Never do that again, Em.”
He was using his other arm to hold her against him, or she might have tried to pull away. Asher was standing just outside the bar door, she didn’t know how long he had been there. He frowned and gave her an impressed nod as the bar door slammed open, and Ember had just enough time to see that everyone had stopped to look toward the street as Zinnia Knox flowed from the door like an angry wind, followed by another woman, younger and sadder, who stayed mostly behind Zinny as she crossed her arms and yelled at Asher to disappear.
“She did it herself,” Acton was saying quietly. “I’ll take care of it.”
Zinny stalked forward, her dark eyes made darker by a thick ring of eyeliner and mascara. “Let me see.”
Acton offered her Ember’s wrist. She winced, but refused to cry out, because she hadn’t forgotten that she had something to prove.
“Hardly even half an inch,” Acton said. He tightened his grip again, and more blood oozed out between his fingers.
“Wash it off—”
“Gina’s gone. You’re aware.” Acton shot her an annoyed glare. “It’s not like she’ll notice.”
Shaking her head, Zinny turned to Ember. She laid a cold hand on her hot cheek. “Are you okay, Em?”
Ember nodded. The cut on her wrist was now stinging like someone had drenched it in citrus. She forced a smile.
“I’m fine,” she said finally. “It was an accident. I forgot it was in my pocket.”
“She did it on purpose,” Acton said, lowering his voice even further. “She seems to think I’ll keep her if she starts cutting herself.”
Cocking her head at him and not blinking, Zinny gave him a accusing stare. “I wonder where she got that idea?”
“You should be asking who screwed her up to make her that desperate for attention,” Acton said guiltlessly. “Because that wasn’t me.”
Zinny withdrew her hand, giving Acton a significant look as she rubbed Ember’s blood between her fingers. She held her soiled hand out and away from the ornate orange and copper dress she was wearing. The slack frown on her face, coupled with her meticulously makeup, made her look like she had smelled something rotten.
“Anything else?” Acton finally snapped.
Her expression hardening, Zinny lifted the hem of her dress to wipe her hand on the pale petticoat beneath. “Isaac was looking for you.”
She dropped her skirt and turned, slowly walking back toward the bar. The woman with the pale face and the dark hair looked like she was going to be sick. She didn’t bother trying to lower her voice. “Zinny, you can’t just let him—”
Zinny threw up her hand to silence the woman, and she crossed her arms in disdain, allowing Zinny to take her by the shoulders and guide her back inside.
When the door had closed, Ember finally let her breath go again, and another jolt of pain shot up her arm. “Who is she?”
“No one,” Acton said quietly. “An old friend of Zinny’s. Did you just try to slit your wrist?”
“I’m not leaving.” Ember sucked in more air. She had realized that it would hurt, but she didn’t know that it would set her whole arm on fire. “You can’t make me, and she can’t make me.”
“I can,” Acton said firmly. “And I will.”
“You won’t,” Ember said, taking a step back from him to look him in the eye. “Because you brought me back here. My family—what I thought was my family—that was my life, Acton. That was the only dream I had, and you killed it. I’m here. You’re responsible for me, and that’s kind of messed up, but that’s all I’ve got right now until I’ve figured it out.”
Acton frowned. “I’m not a contingency plan.”
“And I’m not disposable.”
“You are,” Acton said quickly. “Your mother did it. I can too.”
“Fine.” Ember looked at the ground, biting her lip. She had accepted it, and it didn’t upset her anymore. “Fine. But it’s my life. It’s mine to throw away.”
Acton fixed his angry gaze on her, and glanced down to grab her wrist again. The bleeding had slowed, but there were still slow drips of blood falling onto the dirt between them. He sighed, letting her hand drop back to her side.
“Fine.” He turned his head, and a moment later, Isaac came out. “But only until I decide that you’ll leave.”
Well aware that neither of them had conceded anything, Ember nodded as Acton turned around to face his brother. Isaac gave him a quick nod and kept on walking, giving Ember a wide berth.
For the second time that evening, Ember saw Acton’s brow furrow in confusion as he twisted around to watch Isaac walk past them.
“Isaac,” he said calmly. Isaac stopped and turned around, glancing quickly at Ember’s face before his eyes landed on her wrist and her blood-soaked pants leg. His eyes went wide and he shoved his hands in his pockets, forcing his gaze back to Acton’s general direction. “Zinny said you were looking for me. Was there something you needed to tell me?”
Isaac’s head wobbled more than shook. “No.”
He turned back around, and continued walking away down Main. When his form had finally become lost in the trees next to the antique shop, Ember saw that Acton hadn’t twitched a muscle since Isaac had stood before them.
“That was weird,” she said. “Even for Isaac—”
With a gesture reminiscent of Zinny’s, Acton held his hand up. “Zinny wouldn’t lie to me, and Isaac can’t. Something’s going on.”