by S. K. Kelley
“What the hell is wrong with you?” My voice trembles, and I keep my now-free arm close to my chest and obscured inside the sleeve. “Why do you want the River Sapphire, anyway?”
“Is that what it’s called?” he asks blankly, the words slurred. He quickly covers one eye with his free hand and returns to shaking his head. “I just need it. You don’t understand. I just— Please listen to me.”
Why should I?
Hot, angry tears fill my eyes. One spills over, rolling down my warm cheek. Another follows, and suddenly I’m crying.
James recoils, stepping back as some other, more complicated emotion overcomes him. His focus darts around the room. At my face. My free arm. The gun. His hand still tightly wrapped around my wrist. Then he shakes his head again, stammering but not saying anything meaningful.
I don’t get it.
But I don’t care.
Ice and the twins are wondering where I am. I have to get back to Westbrooke. I don’t care if I messed up by kissing Ice earlier, I just...
Ah...
Tugging on my restrained arm, I scream at him. To let me go. To leave me alone. But he keeps shaking his head, teeth clenched, one hand balled in his short hair while the other holds my wrist.
“You don’t understand,” he says, his low voice trembling. “If that necklace can—”
Shut up!
“Let go of me, you freak!”
He meets my glare with a blank gaze. Empty, shadowed eyes. But I ignore it. Teeth bared, I hit him with everything I have. The sharp smack of my palm striking his cheek echoes in the dark room until a deep, uncomfortable silence replaces it.
Pain flares in my scraped palm, but James is frozen in place. Like he’s no longer breathing. His glassy eyes open wider than ever, not focusing on anything.
Like he might burst into tears any moment too.
His mouth opens wordlessly. He looks down at the floor. His shoulders rise shakily as he takes a sharp breath, and his grip on my wrist relaxes.
I free my arm with little resistance.
My eyes gloss over the gun on the floor, but I leave it. I push past James and stumble toward the front of the building.
He calls after me—Hey, wait!—but he doesn’t move to stop me even as I take off. Even as I trip on the steps outside. Even as I wipe the tears from my face with the dusty sleeve of Ice’s coat and pick myself up off the ground and keep running.
He’s not following?
I run past the car with its lights on and doors still thrown open. I run down the road for a minute—or two or five; I don’t know—before I make a sharp left turn to duck into the forest and disappear in the darkness of the trees.
I stop and plant my hands against the rough bark of a large evergreen. I lean into the tree, panting as a pervasive soreness sets in. My head is killing me. My lungs burn. My side aches. My palms sting. My ankle hurts. My pounding heart threatens to burst from my chest.
The lingering nausea is the least of my concern, but it’s enough to bring me to my knees. I cough and cough and cough, struggling to catch my breath and regain control of my body.
This might take a minute.
I curl up on the ground. I breathe. I cry. I try to keep quiet and small—to blend into the forest floor. When my breath finally comes soft and easy, I reach into the coat wrapped around me, and I find the River Sapphire in an internal pocket. I stare at the dark outline of the pendant in my trembling hand.
What would have happened if I didn’t take the necklace off when I did? If I was still wearing it when I found James in the backyard?
With shaky hands, I fasten the chain around my neck. I sit with my back to the tree trunk. The road is only a few yards away, but I haven’t heard or seen any cars.
Maybe he isn’t planning to follow at all.
Either way, I don’t have my phone, so I can’t call for help. All I can do now is try to make my way back to Ice’s house. Or at least back to civilization.
Groaning, I climb to my feet with the tree’s help and carry on, trudging through the woods that border the gravel road. After what feels like forever, the trees clear, and I pop out onto a real street.
Pavement beneath the thin soles of my Converse.
I comb my hair with my fingers, situating it to hide the wound on my temple, and continue in the direction of buildings and light pollution. I pass a few houses. A convenience store—closed. A thrift shop—also closed. It’s probably like 3AM. More houses with dark windows. When I come to a larger four-way intersection, I stop to read the road signs on the light pole.
Wait— I know this place!
I am still in Riverview.
Thank god...
I’m on the outskirts of town, to the south, but Ice’s house isn’t too far. It’ll take about an hour, maybe a little longer in this condition, but I can make it. I feel safer under the streetlights on a major road, anyway.
All that’s left to do is get there.
thirty-four
~ ∞ ~
IT’S DARK. IT’S COLD. I’m floating.
I’m floating?
No. I’m lying down.
I sit up, but my eyes open to nothing. It’s pitch black. And dead silent, save for my soft breathing. There’s no sign of light, or anything else— But I can see my shoulder. My hair. My hands.
How?
How can I see myself, but not—?
Where am I? How did I get here?
Confused, I look over my shoulder.
—No.
I’m not alone, but that’s impossible. Why is it...me?
~ ∞ ~
thirty-five
I OPEN MY EYES TO A white ceiling and a stab of panic.
Where—?
I sit up, but relief quickly washes over me. I’m in bed, in Ice’s bedroom, half covered by the soft, warm comforter. Bright light streams in through the curtains. It’s morning—8:46AM, according to the clock on the end table—and I’m alone.
My mouth is dry. My stomach aches. A dull throb radiates from the base of my skull...
Last night—!
As if on its own, my hand moves to my face, but— How is this possible? The nagging headache is there, but I find no tender wound at my temple. I run my fingers through my hair. No blood comes away, not even a dry flake. And my palms are smooth and soft. No scrapes. No dirt.
Last night... I was hurt, wasn’t I?
I feel sick. A little sore. I flex my fingers, and my hands are fine. I check my hairline from ear to ear, but there’s no evidence a wound was ever there. Even my reflection in the mirror beyond the foot of the bed looks fine—confused but clean and uninjured.
Am I wrong? Was it a dream?
I tug at the loose cuffs of the unfamiliar shirt I’m wearing. The wine-red men’s dress shirt doesn’t fit me at all and is unbuttoned enough to have fallen aside and exposed one of my shoulders when I sat up. Is this Ice’s? Why am I wearing it?
I remember kissing him, but—
What the hell happened last night?
I adjust the shirt’s collar, fastening two more buttons, and take another look around. My phone is on the bedside table. The River Sapphire lies beside it. I took the necklace off while walking last night, but...
What are these blurry memories?
Pushing the covers aside, I find I’m still wearing the same jean shorts as yesterday. A smear of darkness stains the denim on the right side.
Is that...blood?
Oh.
I hit my head. I fainted. And then... James was there, right? A gravel road. A huge building. We fought, and I escaped. Lying on the cool ground in the dark. The sound of my feet crunching leaves. But I don’t remember getting back, and I definitely do not remember changing my clothes.
Ugh...
I never want to drink ever again.
Slowly and carefully, I leave the bed. I stand, shifting my weight. My right ankle is sore, but it doesn’t feel like I twisted it. I feel okay. Mostly. I don’t think I’ll throw up either
, but I definitely need some water.
I look to the closed bedroom door.
Whatever happened, it wasn’t good. I’m sure Ice and Night have questions, but the entire evening—everything after I kissed Ice—is a blur.
Trees. Pain. A red, blinking crosswalk light.
James wanted the River Sapphire.
But why?
What would the River Sapphire mean to an immortal? Why would he want it so badly, he would...?
Frowning, I pocket the necklace. My hand hovers over the doorknob for a long moment. Then I take a deep breath, roll my aching shoulder, and pull the door open.
Aah—
Ice is there, sitting on the floor with his back against the opposite wall. Eyes closed and arms folded over his chest. His head is tipped to one side, and his shoulders rise and fall slowly and evenly.
He’s asleep?
Right outside the door?
He must have been so worried when I didn’t meet them at the cul-de-sac. And then to find me gone when they came looking? Leaving was a mistake. I didn’t need my phone. I was embarrassed, sure, but...
Ugh.
Should I wake him up? Ask if he knows anything? What happened or how long I was gone? I made my way back somehow, so I must have been conscious. Did we talk before I fell asleep?
I scraped my hands and knees on gravel—I clearly remember the pain in my palms—but there’s nothing now. Was any of it real?
Was it all a dream?
Did I fall asleep in Ice’s room and imagine everything else? Or did I faint on the patio for some reason? Did they move me inside after they found me passed out there? Maybe the stain on my shorts is ketchup.
I look to Ice again.
There’s only one way to find out.
Stepping closer, I kneel in front of him and tap his arm once. His muscles tense, and his eyes snap open as he wakes.
“Jayde—”
His hands land on my shoulders, and I lose my balance and fall into a sit on the floor. He doesn’t apologize. He just searches my face with sharp, focused eyes.
“What happened last night?” he asks.
I blink at him, my soft laughter nervous. “Actually, I wanted to ask you the same thing.”
“You don’t remember?”
I shake my head. His hands fall from my shoulders, and the fire in his eyes dies down.
“Well, I remember...something,” I admit, glancing away, “but I don’t know what really happened and what didn’t. I thought I was hurt, but—”
“You were,” he says.
“I was?”
He sighs, leans back against the wall, and runs a hand through his hair. “You had a head injury. Scrapes on your hands and knees. I cleaned you up, and Night’s twin healed the wounds.”
“...Huh?”
I stare at my palms.
He explains Smoke’s minor healing ability, and a sense of cold, sinking dread pools in my chest as I come to understand. When I don’t respond, Ice repeats his question—asking what happened after I left.
My gaze flicks up from my hand. His eyes are guarded, and his jaw is tense, like he’s struggling to avoid looking too pissed off.
“You were out cold when I got back,” he says, “but Night told me you mentioned James.”
James—
My headache flares, a sharp pain behind my eyes. Gasping, I press a hand to my forehead. It’s like the fuzzy memories want to break free. Like they’re trapped just beneath the surface, but I can’t quite reach anything more than tiny snippets.
The scent of cigarette smoke. A tall, dark building. The wood floor littered with debris. My stinging palms. The twisting pain. A brief weightlessness. Gravity. Blood. Dripping.
Why is there so much blood? There wasn’t nearly that much—
The image shatters as skin brushes my chin, and Ice gently tilts my head up with curled fingers. I meet his gaze reluctantly, my eyes filling with tears I don’t quite understand. Then his hand falls away.
He looks...frustrated. “Tell me, Jayde. What did James Reid do to you?”
“He—” I pause to wipe my eyes. “Well, um... I found my phone on the table. On the patio. He was in the backyard. I didn’t even notice him at first. And I guess I fainted?”
“You fainted?” he asks, wholly unimpressed.
“I guess? I mean, I hit my head when I fell, and then... I woke up in a car? In the backseat. James was driving, and—”
Ice’s eyes widen—a flash of wild panic. He grabs my arm with a warm hand, and my stomach twists. Gold eyes, wide and empty. A trembling hand wrapped around my wrist. A desperate, pleading voice.
“What did he say to you?” Ice asks with a rough urgency.
“He didn’t say anything,” I stammer, my head aching as I shake it. “Not really, anyway. He just wanted the River Sapphire.”
“The—”
His expression blanks. Leaning against the wall again, he nods and glances away. Then he releases my arm. His grip hadn’t been tight, and my wrist doesn’t hurt, but I rub the affected skin anyway.
What the heck...
“James wanted the necklace?” His eyes flick up to meet mine. “Did he happen to mention why?”
I frown, trying to remember. He just...kept asking for it. Over and over. The necklace. The blue necklace. Please. I need it. I’m not sure he explained why or said much else.
“No. He seemed kind of out of it. To be honest, I was too.”
“I see.”
With a heavy sigh, Ice stands. He offers a hand to help me up, and I accept. When he drops my hand, I scratch my arm.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Like I should have stopped after the first drink,” I say with a laugh. His answering smile is clearly forced, so I drop mine. “No. I’ll be fine.”
“Did he hurt you?”
There’s a certain uncomfortable coldness in both his words and eyes. A careful focus. A soft, quiet anger. Seething.
“He didn’t really, um...” My back hitting solid wood. Both arms pinned. The shadowed silhouette above me. Light glinting off a black handgun in the low light. I shake my head. “No. I fell. He just scared me half to death.”
“Hm. Right.” His hand brushes the top of my head, but I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “Go drink some water.”
He stops messing with my hair. Then, with another sigh, he walks past me and shuts himself in his bedroom. I stare at the door for a long moment.
Then, my jaw set, I glance down at my arm.
When Ice grabbed my wrist, all that flashed through my mind was the look in James’ eyes. Realization. Blank terror. Guilt. What was he thinking? Even if he was as messed up as I was last night, what went through his head before he threw me in the back of his car after I knocked myself out?
What was he even doing here?
A door opens behind me. When I turn, Night is already out of her bedroom. She closes the last step between us and wraps her arms around me. A tight, warm hug.
My eyes fill with moisture again.
“Are you okay?” She steps back, revealing wide eyes full of maternal concern. “You were so weak when you showed up, you collapsed on the front steps. We cleaned you up, and Smoke healed your injuries, but—”
“I’m okay. Hungover, I guess, and sore, but I’m okay.”
She frowns. “Maybe you should drink some water.”
“Ice said the same thing.”
She glances from me to Ice’s bedroom door. “You spoke with him already?” Then, meeting my gaze, she smiles rather uneasily. “Oh, right, let’s get you that water first.”
I don’t argue, so she leads me into the great room, where she has me sit at the breakfast nook while she roots around in the kitchen. I stare at my palms. I can still imagine the stinging where the gravel broke skin, but it doesn’t feel real without evidence.
“Hey—” My voice is hesitant. “What happened last night?”
“Honestly, we weren’t too concerned when you did
n’t show up,” she says, joining me at the table with two glasses of water. “We walked back, thinking you fell asleep or something, so Ice damn-near lost his mind when we realized you weren’t here. Smoke found a broken glass and blood out on the patio, and Ice took off. I have no idea where he went—driving around looking for you, I suppose. Then, a couple hours later, the security camera detected movement in the front yard, and there you were. With blood on your face.”
She falls quiet, both hands on her glass. She stares into the water for a moment before glancing up.
“When I asked you what happened, you mentioned James, but...” Her voice catches, though she recovers quickly and forces a sad smile. “There’s no way he did this, is there?”
“Um... Well, he was in the backyard—the same guy I saw at the mall. I hit my head when I fainted, and I scraped my hands when I jumped out of his car, so...”
“He kidnapped you?” she gasps, hiding her face in her hands.
“I don’t really know,” I admit. “He wanted the River Sapphire and freaked out when I wouldn’t give it to him, but he... He didn’t even chase me when I ran away.”
“He wanted the River Sapphire?” Her realization gives way to dismay, and, flashing another weak smile, she glances away. “Oh, James, you poor fool...”
“You know why he wanted it?”
She hugs her arms to her chest, gazing out the window. “James is what some call defective. He’s never been able to morph. If he found out about you—or learned that Ice sponsored you, and you received a pendant from Human-Immortal Affairs—I’m afraid he may have thought—”
“—it would let him turn into a cat?” The words roll off my tongue with a bitter taste and awful weight.
I forgot.
I totally forgot what Ice said when I first asked about James. He’s defective. He can’t morph. He’s hardly an immortal.
He only wanted the River Sapphire because he thought—
“But it’s linked to the user by DNA.” My voice rises. “Even if I gave it to him, it wouldn’t do anything. If I knew—if I watched how much I drank last night—maybe I could have...”
Could have what? Talked to him?
He was completely out of it. Would he have listened?