by Tamar Sloan
Tristan heads left, fanning out so he has a better chance of coming between the Skin and the door. The guy is going to run for sure.
The Skin glances between the two of them before his gaze settles on Zarius. “He can fight.” His hands shift to his side. “You’ve taught him to protect himself.”
“Stay still,” commands Zarius.
The Skin stops, only to turn his hollow gaze toward Tristan. “Hello, Gem.”
“My name’s Tristan.” Although Gem’s the name he was born with in the Gemini solar system, no one’s called him that since he was a baby.
In fact, Zarius only uses it when he’s feeling exceptionally sentimental or particularly angry. Usually, it’s the latter.
The Skin dips his head in acknowledgement. “I’ll let Chardis know you’ve assimilated more than we thought.”
“Enough,” barks Zarius. “Put your hands on your head and face the wall.”
The Skin cautiously lifts his hands but the slowly spreading smile has Tristan on high alert. Skins aren’t smart—hell, sometimes they seem to like the pain—but this guy doesn’t look like he knows he’s lost.
That Zarius is about to finish him.
It all happens fast. Too fast. The Skin jams his hand into his jacket, yanking out a gun.
But it’s not a gun Tristan has seen before. Slick and narrow, it glints blue-black like a shiny, metal bruise. The Skin lifts it, spins his arm wide and aims it at Tristan.
“No!” Zarius is already running, but even he can’t run faster than a bullet.
The Skin’s eyes blaze as he pulls the trigger.
A split second later, a sharp sting pierces Tristan’s chest. He has time to suck in a startled breath before his body crumples.
He expects there to be pain, but there isn’t. An icy cold explodes from the site of the bullet, catapulting through his veins and spearing down his limbs.
Vaguely, Tristan registers the crack of a snapped neck. He wants to make sure it’s not Zarius’s but his head feels like lead.
Zarius’s freaked out face appears above him and Tristan tries to smile, hoping to give the man who raised him like a son some reassurance.
Except he can’t. His entire body is shutting down.
As his muscles lock like they’ve jumped straight to rigor mortis, Tristan closes his eyes.
Yep, a suit would’ve been good.
12
Brielle
The afternoon sun bastes Brielle with its warmth as she rides to the public library after school. Mr. Jackson, her fifth period history teacher, had assigned a ten-page essay on the Civil War due Monday. Brielle wants to get it out of the way tonight so that she doesn’t have to worry about anything during her dinner with the Pierces tomorrow.
And now that Tristan is no longer an issue—apparently dating Cassandra—Brielle has nothing better to do.
As she locks her bike to the rack on the front lawn of the library, she wonders why the thought of the two of them together bothers her so much. She’s the one who rejected Tristan. She’s the one who insisted they just be friends.
Brielle shakes her head. If Tristan had shown interest in any other girl, she probably wouldn’t care. But it’s Cassandra. How could Tristan go so quickly from Brielle to her? From sweet and simple to fake and evil?
She clenches her jaw as she ascends the library steps, begrudging the fact that Tristan’s still distracting her. Time to focus on more important things, Brielle.
Scanning the signs hanging over the aisles of book shelves, she spots the history section. She’s decided to write her paper on Abraham Lincoln’s politics during the Civil War, then she can use some of his biography to make up the ten pages.
Once in the History section, she narrows in on books about the Civil War. There are dozens of books on the topic. The Underground Railroad. Slavery in the Civil War. A Chronology of Battles during the Civil War Era. Nothing stands out except for a biography on Abraham Lincoln, but that won’t offer enough targeted information for the paper. She needs information specifically on the President’s part in the war.
She tucks the biography under her arm, then goes to the front desk to ask the librarian for help. The desk is vacant, and Brielle looks around. Stacking books on the shelf closest to the desk is the Eye Patch Guy. He’s worked at the library for ages. Many of her classmates are afraid of him. He doesn’t look like the type of person who would be a librarian. All gray hair and rough edges, and biceps that don’t come from stacking books. And there are always new rumors in circulation about how he lost his eye: he was shot in the face during some battle in the military; he was tortured by the mafia and is hiding out here as the assistant librarian; he took it out himself just to scare children.
Brielle doesn’t believe any of the gossip, or really care, but the man is intimidating regardless, and she’s not thrilled about having to approach him and ask for assistance.
“Excuse me,” she announces her presence as she comes up behind him.
He doesn’t turn around, or halt his robotic book stacking. “What do you want?”
She clears her throat. “I was hoping you could help me find some books about President Lincoln’s politics during the Civil War.”
“Did you look in the History section?” His voice is gruff, and he remains facing the bookshelf. Is he doing that because he knows his eye patch makes people uncomfortable? On second thought, he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who cares about what other people think.
“Yes, I did, but it didn’t quite have what I was looking for,” she says, waving her book in the direction of the History section.
He sighs and looks over his shoulder. His wizened features don’t change from the frown they’re set in, but the lingering way he looks at her makes her wonder if there is any truth to some of the rumors. He stares at her for too long without speaking, and she’s so uncomfortable that she wishes she’d just kept looking on her own.
“Ugh! Where’s the librarian?” an irritated high pitched voice complains behind her. Brielle would recognize Suki’s nasally voice anywhere, mostly because she can’t stand hearing it.
Eye Patch Guy finally surrenders the staring contest to flick his dark gray eye at the desk.
He sighs again before saying, “I can help you find what you’re looking for,” then struts over to the computer at the desk. Brielle reluctantly follows, stopping a safe distance away from Suki, who gives her an up-down look with her characteristically scrunched nose like everything smells bad.
“I thought this was a public library, not a homeless shelter,” Suki says, smiling with pride at her insult. Then she addresses Eye Patch Guy. “I need you to find a book for me.”
Suki doesn’t usually act this nasty to authority figures, and Brielle is embarrassed for her that she’s doing so to Eye Patch Guy. But it’s somewhat satisfying to see him respond to her with such disdain, returning the lack of respect she was displaying to him.
“Find it yourself.”
She crosses her arms. “But you’re helping her!”
“She’s not a spoiled brat.”
The look of outrage on Suki’s face is priceless, with her thin glossy lips hanging open in a perfect O. Brielle bites her lip to smother the smile that aches to bloom. This may be Brielle’s favorite moment of all time. Maybe Eye Patch Guy isn’t so bad after all.
He looks over the screen to Brielle. “The book you want is in the Politics section. Presidential Letters by J. Huff. Looks like it’s a compilation of letters written from President Lincoln during the war.”
“Thank you,” Brielle says, unleashing her wide grin.
“Any time.” He waves, turns around and walks back to his book stacking, leaving Suki standing there like she doesn’t exist.
Brielle shrugs at Suki, who’s so angry Brielle can practically see waves of heat radiating from her. Suki makes a high-pitched “humph”, then stomps into the maze of shelves. With a spring in her step, Brielle heads back into the rows looking for the sign t
hat reads Politics. It’s all the way in the back on the right, behind the Social Sciences section. Brielle goes down the first row, scanning the spines for last names starting with H. She goes up one side and down the other, names going from A to F. Must be in the next row.
Brielle rounds the shelf and—
Suki is frantically running her finger over spines at the end.
No, she can’t be…
More hastily now, Brielle scours the names, her eyes breezing over the Fs, the Gs, ah, H! She’s getting closer to Suki, who glances sideways at her with the same urgency. Hallaway, Handler, Hopper, Humphrey…
Just as Brielle spots Huff, the book is snatched off the shelf. Suki straightens and steps back, hugging the book. “Not what I came for but it’ll do.”
“Give me that book,” Brielle insists, her anger at a sudden peak.
Suki rotates her torso and the book away from Brielle. “No, I need it for my Civil War paper. And I found it first.”
“You didn’t even want it until you heard him tell me about it.” Brielle tries her best to keep her tone down, to stay respectful of the fact that they’re in a library, but every muscle in her body clenches with the desire to throw a fit.
Suki shrugs. “You should have been quicker.” She flicks her straight black hair and walks up the row, bumping Brielle’s shoulder as she passes and heads to the checkout counter.
Brielle stands still, a storm raging inside her. She had made herself a promise to stay out of the way of others, to not put herself into any compromising situations. But does that mean she can’t stand up for herself? Let people walk all over her? Turn the other cheek?
She knows she should let it go. It’s just a book. Brielle can find sources online.
But it’s not just about the book. It’s everything. Cassandra and Suki, everyone, they all treat her like crap. Tristan may be a weirdo, but he’s one of the few people who’s ever shown her respect, like she was more than some unwanted peasant. She doesn’t deserve to be treated this way, and they won’t stop if she never stands up to them.
Gathering her courage, she follows Suki to the counter.
“I’m not letting you take that book, Suki,” she asserts when she closes in.
“Oh yeah?” Suki rests the book on her opposite hip and narrows her almond-shaped eyes. “What are you going to do about it?”
As swiftly as she can move, Brielle reaches across Suki’s petite body to snatch the book, but Suki is just a split-second faster and swings it up out of Brielle’s grasp.
She laughs, her eyes wide and mouth open. “You actually thought you could take it from me?” She laughs harder. “Little Orphan Annie is getting brave.”
That word is like a red hot poker stoking the fire of rage inside her. “Enough with the orphan jokes! Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
“No.” Suki flashes a wicked smile, and Brielle has had it.
The desire to hurt Suki is overwhelming. But rather than lashing out with a shove, a different instinctual response triggers.
Brielle doesn’t know how she does it, how she taps into the curse that usually has a mind of its own. Just like hundreds of times in the past, her world blurs and the vision pulls her in, but this time, she’s not an unwilling witness. This time, she has the wheel.
From Suki’s eyes, she sees her making out with Kevin Carr, the scrawny and nerdy captain of the Audio Visual club. Under the bleachers at school, on various beds and couches, in her car. And every incident is followed by a flash of a lie she tells her boyfriend Zayn about where she’s at, and the guilt she feels when she’s with him.
The vision fades quickly, for once without the usual sense of disorientation or lightheadedness. Suki’s guilt saturates her, but it doesn’t feel like such a burden.
Brielle is struck by the fact that she’s never been able to turn on the visions before. They usually only come on when the other person is thinking of what they feel guilty about, or something in the present triggers a memory. This is the first time she’s ever been able to invite a vision in.
But she has bigger fish to fry. Suki is cheating on the captain of the lacrosse team with arguably the biggest nerd in the school! If her friends ever found out, she’d be humiliated. And if Zayn found out…
Maybe this curse could be useful after all.
“I wonder what Zayn would say if he found out about your stolen rendezvous with Kevin,” Brielle says, unsure if she’s mastered a threatening tone.
Suki’s jeering expression falls harder than the stock market. The hand that holds the book at arm’s length drops to her side. She leans closer and whispers with horror in her eyes, “Wh—bu—who told you?”
Brielle shrugs, trying to keep her face as cool as possible. She’s not comfortable with extortion, and she’s fairly certain she would never actually tell anyone Suki’s dirty secret. But finally not being the underdog feels so liberating!
“And I doubt Cassandra would be too happy to hear about it. She and Zayn are friends after all.”
Suki releases the book and it bounces on its corners before landing flat on its face. “You wouldn’t.” Her words are barely a hiss.
Suki’s right, but she doesn’t need to know that. “Why shouldn’t I?” She feels oddly like Cassandra, and the sensation is both thrilling and repulsive.
While Suki’s frozen in place, Brielle goes around her and picks the book up off the linoleum floor, then motions toward the checkout counter, acting cool as ice despite the elevated heart rate that has her fingers trembling.
“You have to tell me how you found out,” Suki urges in a hoarse whisper. “No one knew. No one but me and Kevin. Did you see us? Did Kevin tell you?” What was fear a moment ago morphs into suspicion as she leans in on Brielle.
Brielle has no qualms with Kevin. He’s nice. She doesn’t want any of Suki’s rage to fall on him. “What does it matter how I found out?”
Suki is quiet for a few seconds too long, and Brielle glances at her. She’s staring at Brielle with a look she knows all too well.
“And I thought Cassandra was just paranoid,” Suki says, shaking her head.
Now it’s Brielle’s suspicion that piques. “What do you mean?”
“She said you know things about people. That you’re psychic or something. You really are a witch, aren’t you?”
How has this situation so quickly turned against Brielle’s favor?
Brielle scoffs and rolls her eyes as she continues checking out the book, pretending the accusation is foolish.
“You’re not just an orphan, you’re a freak!” Suki’s voice gets louder with each word, and Brielle’s aware that the few patrons in the library are now staring at them. Even Eye Patch Guy has stopped his stacking.
“I don’t know what Cassandra told you, but that’s insane.” She has to put a pin in this now. “You seriously believe in that stuff?”
“Then tell me how you found out,” Suki insists, the snarky curl returning to the corners of her thin lips.
“No.” Brielle isn’t sure how much longer she can keep up the pretense. She just wants to finish checking out and leave before this gets any worse.
“So what, then? Hmm? If you’re not a witch or whatever, then you must go around stalking people, and that’s way worse. Either way, you’re a freak and—”
“Shut up!” Brielle snaps, and just like the other day with Marie, the guilt from Suki’s vision is gone.
Suki gasps, her hands rushing over her mouth. “Omigod! He’s going to hate me.” Her face pinched and reddening, she runs out the library doors.
Right past Frank and Beatrice Pierce.
Who are staring at Brielle with confusion plain on their faces.
How much did they see?
Brielle snatches the checkout receipt for her book, puts on a fake smile and goes up to them, feeling like a dog with her tail tucked between her legs.
“Is everything okay?” Frank asks.
“What was that all about?” Beatrice points in t
he direction Suki went running.
“Yeah, everything is fine,” Brielle struggles to say through the stricture in her throat. “Just a misunderstanding with a girl at school.” The air is so full of tension that Brielle feels she may suffocate. She almost wishes she would. “I’ve gotta get home to finish a paper for school, but I’ll see you both tomorrow for dinner?” She means for the last part to come out as a statement, but it becomes a question instead.
“Of course.” Frank smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Brielle nods and skips away before the two most important people in her life can see her features crack into a deep frown.
She should have just let it go. Why did she have to go after Suki? She thought it would feel good to stand up for herself, to even the scales on the popular girls. But it's only made things worse. Not only does Suki now think she’s a psychic or a witch or whatever—and will surely spread that rumor around school—but Brielle may have also damaged any hope of being adopted by the Pierces.
She gets on her bike and races home, desperate to get to her room and disappear into her despair.
There’s something else, something that’s even more frightening than the threats to her social and family life.
Brielle had been able to control her curse today. She’d willed it to happen with Suki. And then when she snapped at Suki, she’d unloaded the guilt back onto her and amplified it. It’s the same thing that happened with Marie the other day. Marie was right. Brielle is the cause of her obsessive guilt.
This curse is growing, getting more powerful.
And Brielle is terrified to discover what else she’s capable of.
13
Tristan
Tristan knows he’s being carried by Zarius because he can hear the thumping of his heart pressed against his ear. The sound of Zarius’s breathing is just above. The scent of grass and outdoors registers a few seconds later.
Zarius is getting the both of them the hell out of here.