“I’m so sorry. I swear I lost control.”
“Incoming!” shouts the EMT as he flexes another body on a gurney into the ambulance.
“I’m not hurt.” A boy around our age raises his hand. His face is cut, and there’s blood all over. “You driving that car?” His expression darkens as he bores into me with an accusing stare.
I don’t say anything, just sit there wondering how many ambulances are going to be filled and if I’ve managed to kill anybody in the process.
“This is my girlfriend,” Gage hitches his thumb at me. “She was just learning to drive.”
“Female drivers, no survivors.” He swipes the blood from his mouth. He looks back at me and runs his eyes up and down quickly. “Pierce Kragger.”
Gage and I exchange glances.
Oh my, God. I almost killed another one.
“My dad’s a lawyer. He’ll fix it so you’ll never want to sit behind the wheel again.” He gives a little laugh before lying back down. “He’s good at keeping idiots off the street.”
The fact that I killed his brother sails through my brain and I excuse his rude behavior.
Gage reaches back and touches my hand as the ambulance begins to wail down the street.
Did you say you lost control of the wheel? He asks.
“And the gas and the brakes,” I say out loud. I don’t care how insane I look to Pierce or the EMT sitting at the far end.
I’m starting to think this wasn’t an accident, Gage says.
I look over at Pierce lying there—Holden’s brother.
Just what are the odds?
17
Survivor
“Well, you’re a pair.” Dr. Oliver walks into the hospital room as Gage and me inspect ourselves in a hand held mirror. I quickly replace the scarf around my neck.
“Look at you.” The horror jumps off his face as he takes in his son’s intensely sliced up features. “The intern says it’s all superficial with the exception of your shoulder.”
“He has a concussion,” I add. Not that I should be adding anything. I should be running for the exit—subtracting myself from the equation. I wouldn’t blame Dr. Oliver for wanting to throw me out a window.
Emma and Logan come in winded. Her hands fly up to her mouth as she lets out a wild gasp.
“What happened?” Logan’s anger with Gage has clearly dissipated—although I wouldn’t be surprised if it reprised itself in my direction at any moment.
“I didn’t see him coming.” Gage groans as he attempts to sit up.
“Nice try, but the police report says it was a female driver.” Dr. Oliver tilts his head to the side expecting an explanation.
“I think the truck might be haunted,” I say. It’s true.
The three of them stare back at me as though I had just slapped them all in unison.
“Something was definitely off.” Gage scoots in and clasps my hand. “One minute she was stuttering down the road, and the next thing I knew she was ditching in and out of traffic at eighty miles an hour.”
God—was I doing eighty?
A great look of sadness comes over Emma as she collapses her hands up near temples. “It may not have been her,” she whispers, “but it was because of her.”
***
In a rare and dangerous moment, Logan offers to give me a ride back home.
“Your aunt hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you. I thought she was going to cry when she apologized for like the hundredth time.”
“I know, but that’s because she’s too nice to say what she really means,” I pause. “I almost killed her son.”
“You didn’t.” He smoothes his hand over my knee. “If you want, I’ll teach you how to drive.”
“You will?”
“Yeah, I’ll take you to the Black Forest one day, there’s a nice clearing. The only thing you’ll be remotely capable of hitting is a tree.” He flexes a mock smile.
Nice—great time for humor. Then it occurs to me that plenty of people get killed each year by ramming their cars into trees, and I’m perfectly capable of including myself in that statistic.
“There’s a party at the bowling alley Saturday night,” Logan says, passing my house and pulling in alongside the evergreens that stand guard at the base of our street. The moon is covered in a heavy vale of storm clouds, and if it weren’t for the fact Logan’s truck is white, we’d blend perfectly into the shadows. Chloe chose a lousy color for his truck.
“Sort of like an after party to Ellis’s Halloween bash?” That was stupid. Ellis’s party is on Friday.
It feels awkward here with Logan. I haven’t been with him alone like this in so long, it feels unnatural.
“Lexy invited me to go on Halloween,” he says.
“And you’re going to do it?”
“I’ll just meet her there.” He shakes his head and looks despondent out the window.
A surge of relief pulses through me.
“That party at the bowling alley?” He picks up my hand and pulls me toward him. “It’s private.”
“Oh, another Lexy event?” Just add it to the list of growing horrors.
“It’s very private.” He gives the impression of a wicked grin.
“Oh, for me. Of course, I’ll be there.”
“If you want you can hang out after your shift while I close up. Then we can start the party.” The contours of his face are laced with shadows—they define him, make him look strong, hard as marble.
My heart picks up pace. I’m not sure what kind of party Logan has in mind, but I’ll definitely be hanging around to find out.
“Sounds like we’re dating on the job,” I bite down on my lip.
“You know what they say—there’s an exception to every rule.” And with that he leans in and kisses me, makes me forget rules and accidents and boys named Pierce.
***
August 12th,
I took Nevermore with me down to the dunes. I had him sit in a tree and wait until Gage met up with me. He was working so I agreed to meet him, plus I didn’t want him to see Nev until the big reveal.
Of course, I brought all kinds of great food and was way too nervous to take one bite in front of him. I sat and watched as he ate, as he swallowed, I swear everything that boy does is perfect. Anyway, I had Nevermore come down and Gage tried to shoo him away. Too freaking funny!
I told him it was OK, that it was the guardian my father gave me when I was eight. I took his hand and placed it over Nev. I held them both while I pulled out my knife and cut them. That’s the way I remember my father doing it. I remember how my blood beaded on the blade. Now Nev has Levatio and Celestra blood circulating inside of him. He’s a prince among birds, literally. Doesn’t matter though, he’s impressed onto Gage now. I’ve given Nev to him as a gift. He’s Gage’s bird now. I hope Gage knows how much it means for me to give up Nevermore. I love that bird more than my brother, hell, more than my mother.
So things didn’t go so great after that. I tried to lean in and kiss him and he backed away like I had cooties or something. He says he’s real sorry because he’s not trying to lead me on, but he’s saving himself for someone else. Who the fuck saves kisses? And for some girl he hasn’t even met yet! He must think I’m repulsive. I’m so stupid for giving him my heart, my bird, my anything.
I miss Nev. I think he was the only one capable of loving me.
-Chloe
Rain beats down against my window. I clutch Chloe’s diary against my chest and press my hand up against the cool of the glass, watch as the window lights up in a fog around my fingers.
That was me. I was the girl Gage waited for, and I’ll probably be the one to accidentally kill him one day.
A sizzle of lightning electrifies the sky. It slaps against the palm of my hand like a hammer and then produces a violent shatter.
In a moment, the room is lit up with supernatural light and an explosion of flying glass.
18
Follow
/> Second period Algebra Two.
Outside, it’s heaving water like vomit from heaven. It’s as though the clouds have malfunctioned and somehow harnessed the power to suction water from the ocean in large, inconsiderate vats.
The entire class sits around talking and shouting while we wait for Dudley the no-show. Oddly, Marshall strolling in late has increasingly become the norm.
“So,” I lean into Ellis and Gage, “it didn’t go over very well with Tad, that a freak of nature completely destroyed my window.”
Gage looks great save for the stray maroon lines dotting his face, and the fact his arm is in a sling.
“So lightning struck your window after you got into a major collision?” Ellis ticks his head at me. “I’m officially revoking your invite to the party.”
“Yeah, right. Just having me in the vicinity increases the percentile of Fems that will show up.” What’s sad about that is it’s actually proven to be factual.
Marshall strides in, slams his briefcase on the desk and claps his hands. The entire room falls silent. Something about Marshall today—he looks irritated, maudlin, not his usual annoyingly chipper self.
“Sit quiet for an hour.” He gives a dry smile. “Do whatever the hell you like.” He snatches up his briefcase before bolting out the door.
“What the heck?” Ellis looks dazed.
The room booms with a mix of laughter and voices. I don’t bother saying anything. I just get up and speed down the hall after Marshall, catching up with him as he taps down the stairs.
“Wait, what’s going on?”
“This doesn’t involve you, Skyla.” He bursts through the double doors, popping open his umbrella, cutting through the storm at superhuman speeds.
“Oh, something is definitely happening. And if it’s crappy, it usually involves me,” I shout, running in an effort to keep up with him.
“Don’t flatter yourself. There’s plenty of misery in this world that has nothing to do with, Skyla Messenger.”
Before I know it, we’re in the teacher’s parking lot, and Marshall is getting into his car. I sit down on the passenger’s side before he has a chance to protest, and we speed away.
***
Marshall is flying—we’re air born—hydroplaning, all of the above. We pass three police cars and not one of them cares to stop us.
“You drive like a bat out of hell,” I say, watching the windshield wipers fight a losing battle as I twist and turn with Marshall’s erratic driving.
“Really, Skyla? That’s so cliché. Sometimes I wonder why I bother with people.”
“Cliché? Try accurate.” I brace myself against the dash like Gage did yesterday and start pumping the air brakes with my foot.
“Try something a little more original. How about, you drive like an atomic collision?” He grits his teeth as we take a sharp turn. “Or you drive like a sound wave that reaches its destination before the first vibration is felt by the human ear, or…” He drives down the dirt path below Devil’s Peak and slows to a crawl as we approach the sheer cliff side. “Hang on.” He backs the car up violently before throwing it into drive again and races toward the granite wall as fast as the pedal with allow.
“No!” I scream covering my head with my arms. Turn left is my last paralyzing thought before the sheer slate wall approaches. The car starts vibrating in that strange tuning fork manner that Marshall is capable of emitting. We drive right through the granite and land somewhere dark as night, on a forest floor with a low hung moon that gives off a lavender glow.
Marshall gets out in haste. I unbuckle and follow him.
“Where are we?” Looks like Paragon—feels like Paragon, until I see him lift a latch out of the dirt. A brightly lit stairwell blinds me from beneath the ground. It leads straight down into the earth and looks more than vaguely familiar. “Oh no.” I try to pull him away from it. “I remember this place. It’s that freaky white labyrinth Ezrina took me to. She had me strapped to a metal bathtub and was going to suck all of the blood out of me with a big fat needle.”
“You’re with me.” He continues down the stairs.
“I won’t go,” I shout after him. My adrenaline picks up, as a spike of perspiration erupts all over me at once.
“Well, I doubt you’ll be safe up there,” he shouts, disappearing from my line of vision.
Shit!
I run down the stairs, and catch up with Marshall speeding down the hall. I clutch at his waist with both hands. “This is Ezrina’s freaking lair,” I say in a panic.
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” He eases my arms off and picks up my hand. He’s still bulleting down the hall, briefly looking in rooms that have their doors open.
“Here you are,” he says to someone curled over the counter with a bevy of glass bottles lying around.
It’s her! Shit!
Ezrina straightens and turns around with that dried blood of a thin-lipped smile. She frowns as she observes me from over her glasses.
Marshall lets go of my hand and hops up on the counter next to the clutter.
“I’ve made a mess of things,” he laments. He looks boyish and charming in a humble sort of way.
Damn right I want to say. Get me the hell out of here is next on my list, but my vocal chords don’t seem to be functioning at the moment.
“You want me to chop off her other arm?” She asks casually while rolling a vial of blue solution between the palms of her hands.
“No, she followed me. I can’t shake her—she’s like a pet I’ve come to appreciate.” He winks over at me.
“I want to go home.” The words stutter out of me as I back into a wall.
“Relax, nobody is going to hurt you, Skyla.” Marshall steadies himself. “Remember how I told you the world didn’t revolve around you? This is one of those rare moments. I’m the one with the problem.”
I study Marshall’s face, then look over at Ezrina who doesn’t seemed fazed at all by our strange visit. She continues to pick over samples and play with Petri dishes as though it were standard procedure to have me looking over her shoulder.
“What did you do this time?” She asks pulling a long white tube out of a metal hole in the sink with tongs. Smoke rises from the pit as though it were coming from a frozen environment.
“I’ve impregnated a human.” The glass drops from her hand onto the floor and shatters.
My hand rises up over my mouth, and I find myself choking for air.
“Michelle’s pregnant?” The words barely escape my lips.
“I’m not here to start rumors, Skyla.” He looks annoyed with me for the very first time.
“You’ll have an offspring then.” Ezrina secures her hands at the hips.
“I will.” He drops his gaze to the floor.
This is so freaking insane. I step forward toward Marshall for the first time unafraid of Ezrina until I notice that the bathtub of death is filled with a body. I jump back, startled to see a leg sticking out from underneath a black sheet of plastic and let out a scream.
“Is this the boy?” Marshall asks.
“There’s Celestra blood involved.” Ezrina plucks the gloves off her fingers. “It’s confirmed.”
“Well, Skyla,” Marshall’s mood brightens. “Looks like you’ve managed to prove your theory correct. All signs of trouble can be directly linked back to you.” He hops down from the counter. “You’re in more trouble than I am. I feel better already.”
“Glad I can help,” I whisper.
“Shall I take her now?” Ezrina’s wild red mane pulsates as her voice hits the slightest echo.
“Not yet, my love.” Marshall glides over to me. “She’s mine yet a little while more.”
19
Vampire for Sale
I feel rather catatonic the rest of the afternoon. After school, Gage tries to cheer me up by taking me shopping for Halloween costumes. He seems to have completely accepted the fact I was taken to Ezrina’s lair as though it were something na
tural—expected.
“Look, I can tell you’re pretty shaken up.” He brushes the hair from my face. “Stay away from Dudley. The guy is bad news.”
Paragon glows a luminescent orange, as a magnificent sunset tries to penetrate the puff of fog lying over us thick as wool. It gives the impression that inside this mist, the island is on fire—a strange fire that envelopes you, forgets to let you burn.
Gage helps me out of his mother’s two-seat convertible. It feels weird driving so low to the ground after mounting over the road for weeks in his tank of a truck.
“So is it totaled?” I feel bad for not asking before.
“Nope. Needs bodywork and some windows. I might get rid of it, though.”
“I feel terrible,” I say, walking past him as he holds a door laden with fake spider webs open for me.
It’s dark in the store. Odd noises emit from the speakers in the form of creaking doors, wild cackles that more than remotely sound like Michelle, and a woman expertly screaming. A strobe light goes off in spasms to our left as a layer of artificial fog drifts around our feet. Gage points up as an entire row of corpses greets us hanging from the ceiling. Probably employees. I’d consider hanging myself if I had to be subjected to this for more than five minutes—seems reasonable.
“You sure you want to do this?” I ask, as Gage speeds us down aisle after aisle.
“I’m sure.” He plucks a vampire costume off the rack and holds it up against himself. “I’ll let you dress me,” He examines the cape at arms length. “Maybe just this once.”
“I’m a sucker for a hot vampire. Thank you for being so nice.” I circle my arms around his waist. “That’s exactly why I love you.” I bite down on my bottom lip hard. Crap! I may have accidentally told Gage that I love him while sandwiched between a witch and a scarecrow.
“You love me?” His lips curl as his dimples depress themselves an inch on either side.