Twisted (#1 Deathwind Trilogy)

Morning comes too soon.

  We sleep for a few more hours while Uncle Cassius crashes on the floor with an extra pillow. Once I wake up again, the clock on the wall reads nine-thirty in the morning. Uncle Cassius is in the bathroom and the sound of a running shower floats out.

  Once we’re all awake and going, I tell Uncle Cassius about the past couple of weeks. The trouble I got in with my parents. The growling in my head. The horrible open house. Then Uncle Cassius takes his turn and tells me about the trouble he got in with my parents, the growling he's been getting in his head every so often, and his own awful transformation the night that I left.

  “It must have happened right when I got on the freeway,” I say. I glance at the window to see the orange of a new day creeping through the curtains.

  “That's when I knew,” he said. He looks up. He's getting more and more color back in his face the more he talks. “That's when I figured out that you got this, too. When your parents told me you were gone, I knew you must be headed back here. You were never the person to sit back and let things happen. I told your parents you're with Tommy and that I was going to come and check on you. Don't worry about them.”

  “Thanks. That takes some stress off. Well, a little stress off.”

  “I was lucky I checked for you here in town first,” Uncle Cassius says. “When I saw Tommy's car out there, I knew I'd found you.”

  Tommy's car. Duh. Not many people have so many gaming stickers on their bumper. Tommy holds the state record.

  “I guess great minds think alike,” I say. “You know what? I'm hungry. What are we going to eat?”

  Uncle Cassius gets up, leaving a bump in the mattress. “There's a little bakery down the street. I'll get us some doughnuts. Your mother wouldn't approve.”

  “Okay,” I say. A big part of me wishes I was back in my boring house, being lazy for the rest of my summer vacation. My parents would be keeping with family tradition and making a big breakfast like they do every Sunday. I wonder if they’re doing that right now. If Dad’s cooking, he’ll be wearing his ridiculous golf apron that Mom hates. If Mom took her turn this week, she’d be standing there in her pajamas, whipping up the same mini pancakes that she always made me when I was little.

  Tommy and I sleep a bit more while Uncle Cassius goes out and brings back a dozen doughnuts. Yeah, not healthy, but they’re pretty good.

  We eat in silence. Now that the sun's up, we can't put this off anymore. Uncle Cassius will go looking for the people who did this to us.

  “Give me a time that you're coming back,” I tell him between bites.

  “Give me until five this afternoon,” he says. He looks up at me and the seriousness comes back to his eyes. They harden from sea blue to dark limestone. “Do not come after me. I mean it, Allie.”

  “But what if you're not back at five?”

  Tommy wipes his face. “You could get in major trouble. And we can't exactly go back home until both of you get cured, you know?”

  Uncle Cassius stands up, tossing his napkin down to the bed. “I will be back here at five, Allie. Don't worry. If I don't find the farm today, I'll try again until I do.”

  He's dodging the bigger question. The scary one. “What if there's no cure?” I ask, shocked at how high my voice sounds. How small. How scared. “What if we're like this for the rest of our lives?”

  Uncle Cassius stretches for a long time. “Then we will need to work out how to deal with this. There's no other way.” He faces the window. “I'm sorry.”

  It's not an apology for his words. It’s an apology for everything.

  “No. I'm sorry.” I throw myself down on the bed. I can’t look at my uncle right now. “I wanted to go on the trip. I ruined both of our lives!”

  My uncle's there, rubbing his hand down my back. “The only people to blame for this are the two at the farm. I mean it, Allie. You're not at fault.”

  I stare at the darkness of the pillow. “That's easy for you to say. I’m the one who lied to my parents to go.” I know I shouldn’t blame myself for this. Uncle Cassius has a good point.

  But I can’t help it.

  “It's true,” Uncle Cassius says. “No one could have known what was going to happen. Think about that.”

  He leaves me with those words.