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LUCY WAS PLAYING CHESS with Blaine when her father and brothers returned.
Despite his condition, or maybe because of it, the one game Blaine loved and kicked her butt in every time was Chess. He had an instinctual understanding of the game that was hard wired in with his autism.
Lucy moved her rook as a defensive move. One more move and she’d have him in check.
“That was a dumb move.” He smiled. Voice even and without inflection. He moved his queen. “Check-mate.” He said quietly, as if he were discussing the sunshine on a cloudy day.
Lucy sat back and stared. How come she hadn’t seen that coming? This was their second game since she’d checked in on him and hour ago. He’d gotten her in under eight moves.
She reached in and tipped her king, conceding defeat.
A noise and a shout on the other side of the building caught her attention as the front door slammed.
She looked at her brother. “We’ll play more later. Why don’t you grab your headphones and listen to a book?” She suggested. Without a word he began methodically returning the chess pieces to their box, each in a specific place and order.
In the hall, Lucy stared in shock as her father and Wyatt came down the hall, dragging Jazz between them. They ignored her and made a turn into the kitchen. By the time she got there they had him propped in a chair, removing his blood-stained shirt while he swore at them, batting at their fingers and trying to undo the buttons himself.
“Can’t believe the bitch got a shot off on me. Lucky is what it was,” he complained.
Lucy moved further out into the hall. “What happened?” Dread pooled in her gut.
Her father glanced up and then went back to removing first-aid supplies from the cabinet.
“Nothing you need to worry about girl. We were out hunting and Jazz here, he doesn’t duck so good.” His joke fell on humorless ears as Jazz shot him a filthy glance, snatching up the wet rag and antiseptic laid out on the table and applying it himself with a hiss to the oozing wound, high on his shoulder.
“Brings me to another problem, sister.” It was not an endearment, not the way Jazz snarled it, slanting a calculating glare in her direction. “This is your fault, you know. If you were doing your job better...” he began.
Terrence interrupted with a pointed look in his son’s direction. “That’s enough boy. She’s doing fine. Now shut the hell up and let us get this stitched. That bolt tore you up good, but you’ll live.” So saying, he poured the bottle of disinfectant over the open wound. Jazz screamed and came half-way out of his chair, spewing a lengthy line of foul from his mouth that made Lucy cringe.
Lucy stared at her family, uneasy. “Who shot you? You said she. What were you doing out there tonight?” she persisted.
Wyatt stepped past his father. He’d readied a needle and thread, dousing them in alcohol to disinfect them before he started to sew.
Her father admitted, “We were tracking another Magical, had him dead to rights, when the cavalry arrived so to speak. There were too many of them, and one of them shot Jazz with a cross-bow. Her parting shot of blue fire was spectacular too. Almost got us as we were running away. They were all definitely Magicals.”
A sliver of dread and Lucy’s stomach turned. She was positive it wasn’t the flu. “Where did you find the Magical? I have pointed no one out to you in like a week,” she added.
Wyatt’s stare pulled in her direction as he clipped the last stitch, calculating. “Nope, you haven’t. Why is that sister, dear? Anyway, we discovered him heading up the mountain last night and followed.”
Lucy met her brother and father’s deadpan stare. They weren’t making sense.
“If you were chasing him, how did you catch him? Magicals are much faster than we are...” she finished.
All three looked at her at that. But nobody answered. What were they hiding from her?
Her father gathered bloodied rags and started pitching them in the trash, capping bottles and wrapping gauze.
“Speaking of which. We’re going to be heading out a little later. We have a lead on another freak and we have to check it out. We need groceries. Not a damn thing to eat around here and I need a beer. Can you take care of that for me?”
Lucy shivered. Lead... what lead? “I can’t buy beer, you know that.”
Wyatt grunted, washing his hands. “I can pick that up on the way back,” he conceded.
Needing to keep her own hands busy, Lucy opened cupboards and pulled down a tin of tuna and crackers, opening them and arranging them on a paper plate. She snagged one of the last two cokes left and walked out towards Blaine’s room. She felt their eyes on her, the mistrust and suspicion. They were right not to trust her any more than she trusted them. They had to know the only thing that gained them her cooperation in their madness was her brother, Blaine. He was the leverage, the only carrot they had to dangle.
Lucy leaned back against the wall, reclining on the twin bed. She watched her brother eat, his movements precise and measured, as was everything he did. Her heart filled with love and desperation. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. Just for a minute, she promised herself.
Who did you follow up the mountain last night? Who shot you? Would it have been such a tragedy if her aim had been better?
Even as the thought occurred, she chastised herself for her traitorous musings. They were her family, after all—same as Blaine.
She opened one eye to stare at her brother as he placed his empty plate and can in the garbage, dusting his hands clean but ignoring the smear of mayonnaise and tuna at the corner of his mouth.
He turned without meeting her eyes or acknowledging her presence and put his headphones back on, his mouth spreading in an immediate grin as his audio book picked up from where he’d hit the pause.
Would you have been like them? If you weren’t afflicted with autism, would you have been as evil and cruel?
She sighed and closed her eyes again as sleep pulled her under.
#
THE SCREAM JERKED LUCY wide awake in an instant and she sat up in alarm, heart thrumming double time.
She looked around the room. Blaine was still where she’d left him, the headphones deadening the noise. But the expanding shadows told her it was much later in the evening. And she’d never made it to the grocery store. How many hours have I been asleep?
The next cry of pain ended on an odd gurgle, and Lucy slapped her hands over her ears to drown out the sound. The sick feeling in her stomach was back. Maybe it was anxiety. It could be an ulcer. She looked at her brother’s headphones and considered snatching them from his head to conceal the sounds. But he needed them more than she did.
Unable to stand it any longer, she moved into the hall and looked towards the stairs leading down to the basement. It was where they housed their victims. The next shout of suffering made her feet move against their will in the basement's direction. What were they trying to accomplish? What reason could they have for torturing their victims other than some sick enjoyment she didn’t comprehend.
she moved down the stairs on leaden feet.
What was she doing? What did she think she could accomplish by interfering?
But how could she not?
She moved along the darkened hallway at the bottom to the double doors on the end into the room that had been turned into a temporary lab where Jonah was allowed free rein.
Jonah Whiting was a monster.
They’d picked him up somewhere south of Wichita, Kansas, a couple years back. She shivered when he looked up from the stainless steel cart and stared at her, gaze fixed on her with clinical precision. His eyes, the lightest ice-blue she’d ever seen, gleamed with a crazy excitement was as terrifying as it was insane. She didn’t like Jonah. She never had, but her family had adopted him readily enough. When they’d found him he’d been singing at the top of his lungs and covered in blood on some back country road. None of it had been his.
Lucy had begged them to keep going, scared to death. But her family had been dumb enough to believe him when he told them he’d been in an accident. But Lucy had seen the crazed glint of insanity in those freaky eyes and the lack of any actual wounds.
In the years he’d been with them, he’d never proved her wrong. The guys used him to experiment on their victims, to discover what made them what they were. Jonah had fooled them into thinking his methods were purely scientific, but Lucy knew he enjoyed his work way too much.
They’d picked up a Serial Killer hitchhiking along the road. The only reason he hadn’t turned on them was because her brother’s and father gave him a steady supply of victims. They fed his madness and he dined well.
Her brothers were there, though her father was absent. Wyatt sat on a stool, partially turned away, his mouth in a moue of disgust. But Jazz sat fascinated, staring as Jonah moved in on their latest victim, strapped tight with special straps strong enough to hold a Magical on a long table beneath a bank of lights that lit him up in all his gory splendor.
Lucy jerked when the knife flashed and a long thin cut appeared high on his naked shoulder. It was added to the others that bisected his chest and arms, all of them deep and leaking. The puddle beneath the table was growing, the steady flow draining into the pebbled screen recessed in the floor beneath the table.
The young man laying prone on the table writhed with each new cut, his eyes frantic and desperate. He opened his mouth in a long scream when Jonah cut him unexpectedly deep with a beatific smile.
The flash of fangs told Lucy what he was. This was new, they’d never had a vampire before.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a whisper, afraid she already knew.
“Experimenting. We found him dining on one of the vagrants down by the docks. We want to know how badly blood loss weakens them. Does it make them vulnerable?”
Lucy stared on in horror, the sight of so much blood making her queasy. “How does that help? Do we even know who he is?”
Jazz slashed a hard stare in her direction, the coldness making her suck in her breath. “And we should care? Bloodsucker deserves what he gets. He was draining his victim dry.”
Lucy looked at the frantic boy on the table. They’d removed his shirt and shoes, but he still had the ratty shorts they’d captured him in, the filthy ragged state of them making Lucy wonder if he hadn’t been desperate himself. Even if he had it coming; that was one in how many victims that hadn’t?
And I continue to allow it to happen...
She fled the room. There was nothing she could do to help him now. Everything she did or didn’t do wasn’t for her benefit. It kept Blaine safe, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect him. Even if it sacrificed a bit of her soul every time she was a party to their capture of the next victim or remained silent in the face of their screams.
Lucy moved up the stairs and down the hall as far away from the sounds in the basement as she could, slamming the door and climbing onto her small make-shift bed and curling up in the corner. She plastered her fingers over her ears to block it out. At first they’d at least let their victims live. She tried to convince herself that was still the case, to assuage her own guilt.
She thought of Jake Winters, and the tears came. They’d told her he was alive when they left him on the mountain. Only she knew in her heart, that black part of her that was beyond redemption, that she was only fooling herself. Her family was no better than the victims they tortured him in the room beneath her feet. They murdered without a qualm and did it in the name of their own sense of warped justice. But it was a lie, all of it, and she was helpless to do anything about it.
#
I’M NOT SURE WHAT IMP made me do it, but something angry and mean inside me caught Nick’s eye staring at me across the sparring field. I turned back to what Niel was saying and laughed so hard and long at whatever he said that Niel looked at me like I’d gone mad. Our conversation hadn’t been near that funny.
But Nick didn’t know that, and the thought of pissing him off gave me ridiculous pleasure. He’d been rotten to me lately. Gone were the simple conversations and the budding interest he’d shown to give me a smidgen of hope he liked me. That had evaporated the moment we arrived at camp, and I had no idea what I’d done to deserve it. All conversations between us had disintegrated into sharp disdain and cruel sarcasm. It frankly reminded me of our past days when he’d gone out of his way to make me feel inadequate and small. After surviving too many near-death experiences to count, I’d stupidly believed we’d moved beyond such childish bickering. More fool me.
With a satisfied smirk, I turned back to Niel and his befuddled expression that said he questioned my sanity. Why couldn’t I be enamored of Niel, anyhow? He was drop-dead gorgeous with that wavy mahogany hair and deep bronze tan that nearly matched his scales when he transformed. He was funny and smart and broad enough at the shoulders to make a girl swoon. And he does nothing for you Cross, not one damn thing. I admitted to myself.
I liked Niel, but I didn’t like him...
He turned away once more towards his target and with an expert flick of his wrist sent the small steel star’s razored edges spinning in a blur towards his target. He hit left of center. A two-second pause ensued, and the small projectile burst into flames. He gave a considering grunt.
I spoke up, “What, I think that’s better. It’s more than I can do. I can aim or I can create fire, but I can’t seem to do both.” I muttered in disgust, fingering the star I held and tripping it lightly between my fingers in agitation as I focused on my target, my eyes narrowing in concentration. With a growl of agitation I let it fly, my eyes following its progress as it flew true, landing just above his. I stared harder, calling my power and trying to pinpoint the exact spot where it would burst into a compact ball of fire. It sputtered and spit, sparks jumping into the air. Close, so damned close. I watched the small swirl of grey smoke as it spiraled into the air in agitation.
Niel nodded. “That’s better Sadie and you know it. Cut yourself a break. Do you know how long I’ve really been practicing that dumb move? A lot longer that a matter of weeks. I still can’t get it exactly right.
I was closer; I knew I was. I improved every day. But I couldn’t forget Franz Hobert and what had happened the week before. How he’d pushed me until I’d nearly collapsed from exhaustion. He’d pushed me so hard Nick had intervened. The memory made me feel guilty for trying to make him mad and get his attention the way I had.
I thought of the differences between Niel and Nick. They weren’t much alike. Niel and I were both Dragon shifters, and Nick was a sorcerer. He’d be a great one someday, too. But he’d never be what I was or hoped to be. Niel would.
Still, it was Nick who made me mad and giddy and so many emotions all the time I couldn’t name them and didn’t care to try. He frustrated me so. My lips twitched. I knew I drove him just as crazy back—and I was glad. Niel frowned at me and I shook off my crazy thoughts. He’d said something and I missed it.
“What?”
He rolled his eyes, grabbing his water to take a drink as we walked the distance separating us from where we’d thrown and our stars, embedded in the large target hanging center of the massive oak tree. “I was saying, what do you think that stuff was they were shooting at Todd the other night?”
I thought about it. I knew for sure what it wasn’t. It hadn’t been real bullets. They’d been darts, tranquilizers and I didn’t have to be a Brainiac to figure out what would have happened if we’d been later than we had or they hadn’t missed Todd when they shot at him the first time. As it was, just the slight graze of the syringe’s cocktail had made Todd dizzy and disoriented. Thomas had just recovered his brother from Wyndoor and the Vampire’s keep. Now there was a group of crazy Magical hunters loose in the area. I wondered if we would ever know what it was like to have a normal existence and just be boring high school students. Maybe I’d go on a date with Nick without Sirris and Thomas or something crazy like that. Butterflies made my stomach bounce along with all the water I’d slugged. Then again, maybe not.
“I’m guessing it was that SP-17, or something like it. You know—that truth serum they used on Jake Winters.” I frowned, wiggling a stubborn star that was stuck loose with a hiss. “That’s not what bothers me the most though. What I want to know is how they knew he was going to be going up that particular path at that exact time. They were waiting for him. It was a set-up.”
Niel nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too. They aren’t just waiting for their victims to come to them. I think they are stalking them somehow. Like they have certain information ahead of time. “We need to tell Franz Hobert about it.” Niel continued, snagging all six of his stars.
I grabbed my five and had to look for the last where it had buried itself into the thick black loam and carpet of maple leaves at our feet, the product of a bad miss.
I glared up at him. “No way. At least not yet. You’d be doing none of us any favors if you got us all grounded before we could find out what was going on.”
“Yeah, but we’d stay alive and out of trouble.”
I shrugged, remembering my dream. I wasn’t so sure. Something about that nightmare kept coming back to haunt me, but I wasn’t sure what.
I shied away from the memory of death and dying and despair I’d felt in my sleep. “Whatever. I think we all need to be more careful going forward.”
I looked at him, my expression turning cagey. “Everything seems to center in or near Purdy though, have you noticed that?”
He gave me a suspicious glare. “That doesn’t sound much like we’re going to be careful Sadie Cross.”
I grimaced. How was it he already seemed to know me as well as my closest friends did? “Well, we do. Need to be careful and stay together when we are in Purdy. You know, keep our eyes peeled when we are there, in case we see anything suspicious?”
He snorted and shook his head. “Sounds like you mean when we go snooping.”
I hid a grin and changed the subject before he got any more ideas I wasn’t ready for him to have.
“What does it feel like to shift?” I asked him.
We were both back at the starting line and he hefted a star and looked down one of the sharp points, preparing to take aim. He hesitated and brought it back down to his side and turned to me, considering.
“Well, it hurts. A lot. Like somebody is cracking you open like a nut and turning you inside out. The first couple times are the worst, and then, I don’t know... you kinda get used to it.” He grinned and shrugged.
I stared at him in horror. “How do you get over that?”
He laughed, “Well, you do. I can’t explain it, but when you spread those newly birthed wings for the first time, unfurl them wide and feel that wind beneath them, lifting you up. When you dip down into that valley and you’re falling and then suddenly you’re not? The freedom makes it worth it, Sadie. Every bit of it. I can’t do the description justice,” he finished with a shrug.
Maybe he didn’t have to. The look on his face gave me the smallest glimpse; I used my imagination for the rest. I wanted that, to feel like a giant and cleave the clouds neat and stare down at the world. My eyes went dreamy and Niel’s voice rose as he tried to get my attention.
“Hey, Cross. Come back!” he yelled, waggling his fingers in front of my face with a wide grin and dancing green eyes.
I batted at his hands with a scowl and took a quick step back, palming my star. My fingers stung with a sharp need and my focus became sudden and deadly. With a snarl, I sent my little weapon winging true towards the target’s center. I pulled my fingers in at the last moment and squeezed them into a tense fist, calling my fire and watching it erupt in a plate size orange blaze over the surface of the bullseye where it exploded dead center. I stared at the perfect hit in hard satisfaction. Something hungry trembled inside of me and moved.
Niel looked at me with a startled expression, unsmiling. “Well, just damn Cross. Where did that come from?”
I shrugged and replied with as much levity as I could muster. “It’s your shot. See if you can top that.” Inside, I was sure I knew exactly where it had come from.
Class wound down. Several shots later, I was almost as accurate as the first. I wasn’t sure what had changed, but my fire was coming to me at will and projecting where and when I aimed it.
As the whistle blew and we collected our stars Niel caught Todd and Thomas’ eye across the field and they waved him over. With a last grin and wave in my direction, he left me for theirs.
I bent down and grabbed my water bottle and case to return my stars. When I stood up, Nick was there.
I straightened further, my stomach jittery and nervous all of a sudden. His eyes met mine and held; dark and cool.
Fear made me flippant and the sarcasm came as it always did when I was afraid and off balance.
“What do you want?” I asked, not bothering to wait for an answer as I headed across the field with ground eating strides.
But Nicholas had long legs and easily matched me. “So that’s just it? I guess you’re saving all your best conversation for your boyfriend,” he finished, voice harsh and grating.
I flashed him a look of disdain. What was he talking about? “Guess so. Don’t have any for you. What do you care who I talk to anyhow? You haven’t seemed that concerned in weeks.” I gave an inward wince. What the hell is wrong with you Cross?
He shrugged and scowled. “Just seems like you’re getting awfully chummy with our Mr. Reece,” he observed.
I slanted an icy look in his direction. “He’s not my anything, but yeah? What of it. He’s funny and good at what he does. I’m learning a lot from him. At least he knows how to hold a decent conversation instead of being all broody and jerkish.”
“Yeah, I bet he’s good at that. What else is he teaching you?”
My head felt like it was going to explode as my temper spiked. “What’s that supposed to mean? Not that it’s any of your business.” I ended, nose edging up in the air.
He growled. “No, that’s for sure it’s not. I’ll just take mine then, my business, somewhere else where its appreciated.” He finished and stormed off.
I stared at his rigid back, retreating as fast as he’d appeared. I wanted to call him back and ask him what all of that was about. But my pride held me back. No way was I going to be the one running after him. If he couldn’t see what was right in front of his face, then good riddance.
Only it didn’t feel that way at all. Something hurt inside of me and I didn’t want to put a name to what it was.