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Maisie
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An eye for an eye.
That was something Maisie no longer believed after the shenanigans she had to face once she’d been set free from the Glass Vault. She’d managed to avoid the other immortals ever since they’d all gone their separate ways.
Maisie had followed Perrie pretty much the entire time without her notice, while pretending like she was wreaking havoc on Earth, as August, no wait—Quinsey, no wait—Vale barked out his demands. She should’ve been shocked by the whole Vale-being-some-type-of-demon thing, but after dying and coming back to life so many times, nothing could surprise her these days.
Then she’d lost them.
Now, today of all days, Maisie stumbled upon Josselyn Shaw, AKA Katrina Van Tassel. She barely gave Maisie more than a side-glance, yet Maisie knew the immortal was watching her since she hadn’t joined in on Josselyn’s turning people to glass excursion. Freezing people into glass wasn’t Maisie’s idea of arts and crafts, but then a young man with black hair passed them. Josselyn reached out and touched him, just barely, but it was enough.
The guy’s body stilled, his eyes wide open in shock as his skin turned into a clear glass. He looked just the same as the ones that had once been inside the museum’s displays, minus his glass being clear instead of having color. His neck cracked, and his head slowly slid off his shoulders to the ground, causing a clink-clink ripple effect. Hmm, that’s the tenth time she’s done that in a row, and the heads never break. Maisie’s main thought was, Why do the heads fall off her statues if she isn’t the Headless Horseman?
“Darn, that was to be mine,” Maisie yelled, shaking her fist in the air, pretending as though she wanted to help destroy these lives. “I’ll get the next one.”
“Not if I get to them first.” Josselyn grinned wide, her long blonde hair sashaying with the wind.
“I think it’s easier for you to see them since I only have one eye.” Before, Maisie wore patches to show that people with one eye could liven up their look. But now that she did only have one, it wasn’t so bad since she was already used to the patch.
Josselyn ignored the comment and strolled away.
What? Maisie had only been giving her a true statement. Okay, what do I do now?
Maisie followed behind Josselyn and contemplated how to get Perrie out of this huge mess. Weeks ago, after a couple of days out of the Glass Vault, Maisie was able to pull herself out of her locked-and-lost-in-her-own-head stupor. That meant there must be a way to do the same for Perrie.
When she and the immortals first walked out of the museum, Maisie was hidden, safely tucked away somewhere in her own brain. It was like an out of body experience—she’d been shut off from everything, while Crazy Maisie, as she now liked to call her, had full control.
Crazy Maisie had been insane—constantly skipping up to civilians, talking gibberish, grabbing onto their clothing and singing to them until their flesh turned to glass. She knew Snow White liked to sing for no reason, but that was ridiculous.
Somehow, like always before, she traveled her way back to the surface and kicked Crazy Maisie aside to wherever she’d come from. At least Maisie’s eighteenth birthday hadn’t been totally wretched that day. And since then, there’d been no sign of the lunatic.
Everyone in town was gone—her parents, her uncle, schoolmates. Maisie had cried silently on the inside because she’d missed them so much, but she had to cut it off. It was already done.
She couldn’t stop it when the immortals had gone down her and Perrie’s old street because she’d still been Crazy Maisie. Perrie had been farther behind, down the road, while Maisie had skipped up to her old house to sing her own family into glass. But when she’d gotten there, some little, creepy immortal kid had already done the job.
Once freed, after being locked away behind Crazy Maisie, the memories hit. A part of her had felt content that she hadn’t turned her family to glass. In a weird way, she was thankful her parents and uncle were together when they’d turned. It helped to know they weren’t alone in that moment, and Maisie was eighty-nine percent sure Perrie would agree.
She had to find her cousin.
Maisie blinked and realized she was no longer walking—she’d completely lost sight of Josselyn. A relieved sigh escaped her at being alone again. Then the ground trembled beneath her feet, her teeth clattering together as the shaking became stronger. The only thing to do was pluck up a glass head laying unbroken on the cement—the warmth penetrated her hands. One would think the glass would be cool to the touch, but it wasn’t.
With its already-frozen mouth open in horror, Maisie sang to the severed head, “Little head, you must forever remain glass.” The ground rumbled harder. She froze in place, trying to sing another melody as a giant troll from the Glass Vault pounded his way across the street. “Glass is the only way to be in order to help us conquer the lands.”
The troll didn’t give Maisie one look as his matted hair blew off crumbs of filth with the breeze. She tried hard not to stare at his long length in between his legs flapping about. If the other immortals had to wear clothing matching their display scenes, then couldn’t the trolls at least be covered in a loincloth or something? She shivered in revulsion, then gently rested the glass head back on the ground.
Maisie blew out a breath. “That was close.”
“Maisie?” a deep voice asked.
She jerked upward and whirled around to find herself face-to-face with another immortal.
“Who is Maisie? My name is Snow,” she said, attempting to get back into character, role play, or whatever this was.
Entering Crazy Maisie mode, she lifted her head to give a delighted and creepy smile, baring all her teeth. Despite the ripped black T-shirt and new scars, Maisie would recognize this guy anywhere.
Neven.
“Hello, um, Frankenstein’s Monster,” Maisie sang. “How are you on your mission to end it all?” She didn’t even stutter when she met his light brown eyes.
Neven palmed his forehead with his scarred-up hand and shook his head. A vibration started from the tip of his scalp and ran through to his toes, shaking his entire body.
“Are you okay?” Maisie reached out to touch his arm but ripped it back.
Then it broke out. A laugh. A hard rumble of laughter escaped his mouth. She darted her eye side to side to plot her best escape. But she didn’t have any blasted time. He grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her firmly in place.
“Cut the shit, Maisie.” Neven’s laughter stopped, his brow furrowed. “I know you’re you. I’ve been following you around for a while now, not sure what state of mind you were in at first. I just didn’t want to say anything until I was sure. That thing you just did with the head was a little overdone, though.” His gaze peered over at where she’d safely set the head next to its body.
“So, you are you?” Hope, relief, and happiness all played tug-of-war inside her head.
Neven smiled sheepishly and ran a hand through his shaggy black hair. “Yeah, I’ve been me since we stepped out the door. As for everyone else, seems like they’re all lost in their own little world.”
Oh, thank goodness for that! Excitement bloomed in her chest, so much so that Maisie could wrap him up in a hug, but she held back. There was no way of knowing who, or what, else might be creeping about, so it would be better to leave things as they were.
She nodded and silently agreed with herself.
“We can’t stay out in the open like this. Let’s find somewhere and go,” Neven said, searching up and down the cracked and broken street.
Placing her fingers to her temples, she thought back to what she’d passed by earlier. Then it came to her. “I know a place. Follow farther behind me and look grim.”
His face was already set in his normally non-smiley face.
“Okay, that’s perfect.”
Neven’s one un-scarred eyebrow popped up. “This is my normal face, Maisie.”
“It’s perfect.” She grinned.
Neven staggered behind Maisie as she led the way. The place wasn’t too far back, but she did remember a barbershop on the strip, sitting alone beside a few abandoned buildings. She doubted anyone had lingered in that area for long, so it was her best idea.
The shop’s red, white, and blue pole, no longer spinning, slipped into view. Thin mini blinds covered the cracked windows, and a small white and black sign on the door read: Open.
So that means it should already be unlocked. Gripping the handle, Maisie pushed open the glass door and peered inside.
Immediately, she took a step back, slamming her head against Neven’s solid chest.
“What is it?” He slid past her and stepped inside.
“Nothing,” she said to his back. “Only three glass statues over there.”
Neven shook his head, and Maisie knew he was rolling those brown eyes of his. Chewing on her thumbnail, she followed him inside.
The shop was small with only two seats and mirrors, 1950s barbershop photos lining the walls, and an old black and white checkered tile made up the floor. Maisie headed to the back to confirm there were no signs of immortal life. Nothing was there except a closet-sized bathroom and one person break room.
“Nobody’s here,” she said, plopping down on one of the two barber chairs. This was the first time in a while since she’d been able to sit down, and the pleather red seats were unbelievably comfy. Neven dragged the other chair closer to hers and took a seat.
While studying the small room, she noticed the phone on the wall, but it wouldn’t dial out if she tried. After weeks of immortal destruction, phone lines, car engines, electricity—it was all gone. Who would she call anyway? It would go over really well when I say there’s a demon out loose on the street with immortals tearing down the city with different powers. It sounded like a pretty good movie, though—she shrugged to herself.
Her gaze stayed locked on Neven, a scowl planted on his face as he sulked. “Mopiness isn’t going to do anything, Neven.”
He shot her a glare from beneath long lashes. “Well, it’s not like I’m going to go back out there and pretend to murder people, Mais. I’m just ... thinking.”
“You know, you could’ve just said you were thinking.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’m trying to figure out what we can do, but I can’t think of anything we can do on our own.”
“I can’t think of anything either.” She tapped her chin several times. “Although, I thought it’d be possible to snap people out of their trances at one point, but I doubt that would have gone over well. I’m sure someone would’ve run off and tattled to Vale.”
Neven ground his teeth. “When I find him, I’m going to kick August’s ass hard.”
“You mean Vale,” Maisie pointed out.
“Whatever. Same difference. Vale is going to be sent back to hell.”
“Hey, you know that almost rhymes.”
“You know people are dead, right? Everyone is gone. My mom is gone.” Tears beaded at his eyes, and Maisie’s heart thumped a slower tune. She kind of felt bad for making light of everything, but there was nothing else she could do in this apocalyptic situation.
Maisie knew how close he’d been to his mom, how hard it must be to lose her so soon after his dad died. She hadn’t talked to Neven because she thought he’d cheated on Perrie. Even then, it was hard for her because she’d cared about him so much. But Perrie was her best friend and her cousin—how could she not have taken her side?
If only Maisie could read Perrie’s mind to locate her. There was the one time when they’d been twelve and performed a blood oath by pricking their fingers to become official sisters versus cousins. They’d touched the small tips of their fingers together since they hadn’t been ready to go gashing their palms. If only that connection could lead Maisie to her...
Maisie now knew it wasn’t Neven who’d cheated on Perrie. But she didn’t know the whole story either, only that Vale was responsible. Even without her pencil and notepad, she was able to put two and two together once she’d left Crazy Maisie behind.
Neven wouldn’t look up as he hung his head, grieving for his mom. Maisie bit the inside of her cheek and traded her seat for his lap. She leaned to the side so she could wrap her arms around him as best she could.
“I’m sorry, Neven,” she started, lying her head against his warm chest and inhaling his familiar minty scent. “I shouldn’t have stopped talking to you, but after everything that happened, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed, too. I know now it wasn’t you, and I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner.”
He lifted his long arms and circled them around her, sobbing softly as he rested the side of his face against the top of her head. Maisie had never told Perrie how much she missed him because she knew it would hurt her, but she did. She missed his laughter, his rare smiles that would pop up throughout the day, and his friendship. But Perrie’s was more important to her. It wasn’t like Perrie had forbidden her from talking to him or anything, but Maisie couldn’t, not after finding out what she’d thought he’d done. What they had thought he’d done.
Neven’s sobs finally slowed and he lifted his head away from hers. Maisie peered up, studying his face for a brief moment, reassured by his calm. She then hopped off his lap and straightened the skirt of her dress. “Are you okay now?”
Pursing his lips, Neven closed his eyes and shook his head. But then he started laughing while rubbing at his temple with the back of his hand. “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay, Mais, but you made the day a whole lot more interesting.”
She gave him a soft smile, glad she could semi-cheer him up. Now he could help her release more immortals from their mental prisons. “You know what we have to do now, right?”
“What’s that?” He looked her straight in the eye and arched a brow.
“We have to get Perrie back.”
