Page 17 of Mortal Danger


  I decided to be honest. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t name her when I messaged you.”

  “It’s still my job to look out for you,” he said quietly.

  “So after I told you I didn’t need a ride, you came to the hospital? That’s—”

  “Creepy, I know.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Wedderburn sent me. The watch tracks if I follow orders, remember?”

  Given what I knew of his boss, that was probably true. That doesn’t mean I like it.

  “Then why did you bother asking about school if you’re stalking me?”

  He swallowed hard, visibly hurt. “Because I wanted to hear your thoughts and feelings, Edie. I can only tell so much from surveillance.” His jaw clenched. “You already know I’ve spent a long damn time watching you. From the outside.”

  I registered his anger, but I couldn’t respond right away. Too many thoughts were whirling in my head, demanding to be heard. Eventually I let the issue drop by saying, “When I went to see Brittany, she looked awful, and none of her family was there. No friends, either.” It wasn’t full acceptance or forgiveness of him creeping around behind my back, but right then, it was the best I could do.

  Kian sounded subdued. “It’s one thing when you’re alone and you always have been. You get used to it. But to have the awareness dumped on you—your only value is your pretty face, and if you don’t have that anymore, what good are you? That’s rough.”

  I recollected telling him how I felt about her, dumping it all over him that night on the shore. I’d said, But I look at Brittany, who held the camera, and I think, What would it take to break you? Would I have to mess up her face?

  Damn. And just look at her now.

  That possibility chilled me more than the semi-stalking on boss’s orders. I shook my head, shivering a little. There was just no way. Sometimes bad things happen, nothing to do with you. Allergic reaction, bacterial infection. If karma is real, then Brit’s getting what she put into the universe, that’s all.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “But honestly, she’s not the worst. I still hate Cameron more than anyone, and this week, Russ was an absolute asshole. Like, he has no redeeming features I can see, he’s just a waste of oxygen.”

  I wanted so bad to believe Kian had nothing to do with any of this, and Wedderburn didn’t either. He asked me if I wanted him to take revenge for me. I said no. What more can I do? My lack of power in this situation could easily drive me crazy. It’s fine, when nothing happens to Russ and Cam, I’ll know Kian is innocent.

  “You’ll get them all in time.”

  I shivered. He didn’t mean ‘get’ how it sounded.

  With suspicion echoing in my head, I was quiet the rest of the way, watching the clock on his dash tick toward midnight. He parked the car at thirteen minutes ’til and then he shifted, facing me. I didn’t want to make out when I was so confused; I had the crazy idea that he’d be able to taste the difference. So I leaned over, kissed his cheek and said good night, before he could ask why I was blowing him off, after I’d practically asked him to be my boyfriend earlier.

  “I’ll see you Monday,” I said with false cheer.

  After scrambling out of the car, I glanced over my shoulder. I’d been able to refrain when we were running from the Oracle but Kian offered more temptation than I could resist; the streetlamps painted him in gold and shadow, but it did nothing to mask the forlorn cast of his face. He raked a hand through his hair and then started the car. I hurried into the brownstone before he noticed I was watching. It was nuts that I could be so conflicted about him, but the merest hint of pain in his eyes and I wanted to race back and hug him so hard it hurt. The two of us were like magnets with the same charge. No matter how much I wanted to be close to him, circumstances kept shoving us apart.

  Not surprisingly, my parents were still awake when I let myself in. My mom glanced up from her notebook, scrawled margin to margin full of complex calculations. “Did you have a good time?”

  “Yeah. We went to see Enter the Dragon in Harvard Square.” I’d found that volunteering information was the best way to forestall more questions.

  Dad glanced up. “Oh, that’s a good one. Did you know it was chosen as culturally significant and has been preserved in the National Film Registry?”

  I grinned, relieved that some things never changed. Trivia was my dad’s thing, usually science related—did you know, Edith, that there’s a wasp that turns cockroaches into zombies and lays eggs in their living bodies? No, I did not. Upon learning that, I promptly Googled the jewel wasp and then spent the night shivering under my covers. Occasionally he popped up with interesting facts in other fields. Entertainment was a new one.

  With a grin, I remembered how he used to run D&D campaigns for Mom and me when I was in junior high. Back then, I didn’t mind as much that my primary social interaction came from my parents. I was sure it hurt them when I withdrew, but it was hard to hang with them after I started high school and realized that no matter what I did, Mildred and Alan Kramer would be my only option for weekend and evening entertainment.

  My mom noticed my expression, and her eyes crinkled into an answering smile. “You seem happier this year. I’m glad.”

  Considering what I had to contend with, that was messed up in so many ways.

  BEHOLD A PALE HORSE

  Monday morning, I got up at five thirty and went for a run. The sky was still dark, but I stayed off the side streets; there were other fitness buffs out, and they nodded at me as we passed, though most of them had pedometers and special music players strapped to their arms, along with more expensive shoes and spandex pants. I ran in Converse, sweats, and a hoodie, feet pounding out my confusion and dismay against the sidewalk.

  I wanted to trust Kian, but my nature wouldn’t let me take him on faith. Maybe I could take a field trip to Cross Point, Pennsylvania, and look for proof. If I saw his “before” picture, I could at least believe he was who he claimed. Sure, he could produce ID, but given the resources at his disposal, that wouldn’t prove anything conclusively. But I couldn’t keep up the back-and-forth dance, where I drew closer and then I pulled away. It wasn’t fair to either of us, and if he was being straight with me, if, then he deserved better.

  Everyone needs one true thing. I want him to be mine.

  As I ran, I heard the scrape of footsteps behind me, not running shoes, more like hobnail boots, heavy and uneven. When I turned, I saw nothing but the smoky shadows cast in the final hour before sunrise, only thin fingers of light clutching at the horizon. The street was empty, but still the footsteps drew closer, and as I spun, I caught the flicker of movement in my peripheral vision. My flight reaction kicked in, so I raced toward the apartment, listening to my heart thump out a warning.

  Danger. Danger.

  With pure relief, I tore around the corner onto my street and within screaming range of fifty families in the identical brownstones. If something happened, if I called out, someone would hear me. Still, I didn’t slow down, sprinting the last fifty feet to my front stoop. I was bathed in cold sweat when I bounded up the steps and into the foyer. The door shut behind me, meager protection from the forces arrayed against me. I skimmed the dark street one last time and just as I was about to write off the incident as my imagination, a stooped figure shuffled into view beneath a streetlight. He looked like an elderly man, dressed in garb more suited to the World War I era, right down to the hobnailed boots I’d heard. His mouth was sunken from loss of teeth and he had whiskers growing all over his face, not a beard, more like a human cactus. Over his left shoulder, he carried an empty burlap sack.

  He stood across from my house, staring back at me with eyes like drowning, big and wet, and somehow hungry. Two children stepped out of the shadows behind him, flanking the old man, close enough to touch, but separate. They, too, were dressed in old-fashioned clothing; the boy in knee pants and socks pulled up high, the girl in a pinafore with a dirty ribbon in her hair. And their eyes were black as pitch.
The little girl-thing stepped forward.

  I whirled to retreat to my apartment and nearly slammed into Mr. Lewis. He peered at me with a somber expression. “Is it you they’ve come for?”

  For a few seconds, I couldn’t speak. “Who?”

  “The old ones.”

  “Probably.” I couldn’t remember ever talking to Mr. Lewis before, but it seemed like he could see the creepy things. I wasn’t sure what that said about him. Surreptitiously, I glanced at his wrists, but they were unmarked.

  “Do you hear the ringing?”

  I gaped at him. The perspicacity of his question shocked all of mine right out of my head. “What, how did you know?”

  “Means you’ve come into close contact with a powerful old one. My mum crossed paths with them, told me a story or two before she passed.”

  Come to think of it, the tinnitus started after I met Wedderburn. Did that mean I had some kind of detection system for immortals now? That might be useful.

  Mr. Lewis went on, “Be careful, missy. I’ll hang a horseshoe above the front door, but you should say your good-byes. It won’t stay them long.” With that dire pronouncement, he went into his apartment.

  My legs were shaky as I ran up the flight of stairs, partly from the run and partly from the weirdness stalking me. Inside the apartment, I took a quick shower and got ready for school. My homework was done, but I had no extra credit so far this year. I imagined my teachers checking my assignments and saying, It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.

  At school, people were gleeful, whispering wild rumors about Brittany. “I heard it was mono.”

  “No way, it’s worse. She has VD or something, only she was giving somebody gross a BJ and the infection spread all over her face.”

  Damn. I tried to ignore them and I avoided the Teflon crew while moving from class to class across campus. It seemed like Mr. “Call me Colin” Love was always watching me, lurking in doorways and corridors with an inscrutable expression, and when I made eye contact, he offered a charming smile.

  I’m not buying it. You’re one of them. But he hadn’t set off my tinnitus. So maybe I’m just paranoid.

  The one notable thing that happened—I had a meeting with my guidance counselor to talk about college; she also gave me some material about the SAT. At this point, I could register late and take it for the first time in early October. If that didn’t go well, there were other test dates spaced throughout the year.

  “Thanks,” I told her. “We’ll talk after I get my scores back.”

  “You should also consider some extracurricular activities, Edie. Your grades are Ivy League, but the rest of your school life is rather…” She trailed off, trying to find a nice way to say I hadn’t done anything but skulk and study.

  “I’ll work on it,” I said, though I had no idea how.

  In relief I darted out of her office and went to lunch. The others were already at the table, but nobody stopped me when I joined them. Part of me wanted to go sit with some random people and forget about the Teflon crew, but I didn’t want Allison to think she’d won. Today, she was practically sitting in Cameron’s lap, petting his head to “comfort” him through his sadness about Brittany.

  “Did anyone go see her this weekend?” I asked, when the conversation hit a lull.

  Silence. Nobody met my eyes and they shook their heads, mumbling excuses. I ate my lunch and pretended to listen to Russ while the others changed the subject.

  The Teflon crew wasn’t the same as last year; Brittany in the hospital had created a power vacuum and Allison was scrambling to fill her shoes. With their attention focused inward, they spent less time harassing random outcasts.

  “I’m going to see her tonight,” I said, just before the bell. “Anyone want to come?”

  Another long pause. Then Jen spoke. “I’ll go. Is it … I mean, how—”

  “Bad. But she stays inside her bed curtains most of the time.”

  “Okay. Should I bring something?”

  I thought for a minute. “We can stop and get some magazines on the way up, something with quizzes, celebrity gossip, and bad advice.”

  Jen gave a relieved smile. “That sounds good. I’m really bad at cheering people up, but I can read.”

  “Doubtful,” Allison sniped.

  The other girl leveled a cold look on her. “Who’s flunking basic English here?”

  “There’s only one way to settle this,” Russ said. “Vat of pudding, after school.”

  “I’m out.” I pushed to my feet.

  “Me too.” Jen surprised me by following.

  Allison glowered at us while Davina looked intimidated. Last week, Allison and Brittany kept her busy running errands, but with Brittany gone, she was sitting with the Teflon crew, though she didn’t seem sure of her place in the social hierarchy. She glanced at Allison, then the guys, while she chewed her lip.

  “Can I go, too?” she asked.

  “Sure.” It wasn’t like I owned the hospital or set visiting rules. “Let’s meet up at the front doors after school?”

  “Sounds good,” Jen said and Davina nodded.

  Allison lifted one shoulder in a bored shrug. “Give Brit my best.” Her expression said, I’ll always rule this school, even if you suck up to my former bestie, who used to share the crown with me.

  The day just got weirder from there—with Davina on one side and Jen on the other as I went to class, students scrambled out of our way, like we were new queen bees or something. Davina smirked at me, but it was a conspiratorial look, not a snotty one.

  A freshman girl said to her, timidly, “I love your hair.”

  “Thanks.” She tossed the long curls, smiling with genuine pleasure.

  Davina had brown skin, pretty features, and great hair. If looks alone were enough to secure entry to the inner circle, she’d have been sworn in years ago. In her shoes, I’d given up on cheerleading and made friends who weren’t such superficial tools. Her motives in courting their approval stumped me.

  As I got my books, I fought the urge to bang my head against my locker, but somehow I made it through the day without hitting anyone or getting screamed at by my teachers. When I left Blackbriar, I found Davina and Jen already waiting. I didn’t break stride, just beckoned as I went by. Kian would be surprised to find out he’d be driving the three of us to the hospital, but I hoped he’d roll with it.

  “You brought presents,” Kian said as we walked up.

  That was a pretty charming thing to say. Funny, he claimed he had no experience whatsoever, but he could come up with lines like that on the fly? This is why I don’t trust you. Jen and Davina both beamed, and I stifled a sigh at introducing everyone. Then I smiled at him, trying to decide if he was upset over how things ended on Saturday night. He leaned in and kissed my cheek, which told me the answer was yes.

  “I hope you like them,” I answered.

  “I take it I’m chauffeuring today?”

  “If you don’t mind. We’re visiting Brittany.”

  “Not a problem.” He opened the door and gestured for the other two to get in back.

  In the car, I let Davina and Jen carry the conversation, asking Kian questions about his job and what he was studying at university. Can’t stop gossiping, huh, Allison? That was the only way they could’ve known he was in college. He responded politely, with just enough warmth to come across as friendly.

  “I’ll drop you off out front and then park.” He hesitated. “Since I don’t know her, it would probably be better for me to wait in the lobby.”

  Jen nodded. “I guarantee Brit wouldn’t thank us for bringing a hot guy to see her when she’s … not at her best.”

  “Definitely,” Davina agreed.

  Wanting to make up for the other night, I leaned over, but Kian gave me his cheek. Got it. No lip kisses until we talk. A heavy feeling settled in my stomach as I slid out of the car and pulled the seat forward so the other two could do the same.

  “Where did you meet him?”
Davina watched him drive off with an expression that suggested Kian was money covered in chocolate.

  Grinning, I told the truth. “On a bridge.”

  Jen sighed and headed for the front doors. “Fine, don’t tell us.”

  This time, I bought magazines in the gift shop instead of a stuffed toy. And like Friday, when I got to Brittany’s room, she had no visitors. The shades were drawn along with the bed curtains, and the smell … was indescribable. Davina actually took a step back, her nose wrinkling in horror, but Jen clamped a hand on her shoulder and shoved her forward. Her determination to be a good friend boosted her up to decent human being in my mind.

  “Who is it?” Brittany sounded hoarse, as if she had been crying.

  “Me, Jen, and Davina. We thought we’d read Cosmo and have some girl talk.” These were the last words I could’ve ever imagined saying. Until today, I’d never picked up a single woman’s magazine.

  “That’s nice of you. Is … my mom around?”

  Damn.

  “I didn’t see her,” Jen said softly.

  “You guys don’t have to stay,” Brittany mumbled, sounding reluctant.

  “It’s okay,” Jen said.

  “Let’s settle in.” Davina was calmer, breathing through her mouth.

  I could only think, if it’s bad for us, imagine how Brittany feels.

  For an hour or so, we took quizzes like “How to Tell if He’s the One” and Jen read aloud an article called “Rocking His World in 5 Easy Steps.” It was so bad, it was funny, and to my surprise, I wasn’t the only one laughing. Before, I’d always imagined that beautiful girls pored over this stuff seriously, as if it were some kind of bible, but that didn’t seem to be the case with these three. Even Brittany was giggling in tiny choking gusts. She might be having trouble breathing, but I was afraid to upset her by peeking around the curtain.

  Brittany whispered, “Thanks for coming, you guys. It means a lot to me.”