Inferno (Blood for Blood #2)

by Catherine Doyle

  ‘Persephone Elizabeth Gracewell, listen to me.’

  ‘All right,’ I said, refocusing. ‘I’m listening.’

  She inhaled a giant breath and did a slow-blink. ‘OK. Have you ever met my mum’s friend, Emily?’

  ‘The millionaire from London?’

  ‘She married a millionaire,’ Millie corrected. ‘She’s from the same estate as my mum.’

  I tried to act like the distinction mattered to me. ‘OK, what does she have to do with anything?’

  ‘Trust me,’ Millie said, moving close enough so I could count her freckles. ‘Emily has everything to do with this.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘So the first thing you need to know is that Emily is a total bitch. And these days she has way more money than sense.’

  ‘You better not be about to compare me to Emily,’ I interjected.

  ‘No, I just don’t want you to feel sorry for her.’

  ‘It already seems a little one-sided.’

  ‘Some people are just assholes, OK?’ Millie said. ‘Like, one time Emily tried to get with my dad at a party, in front of my mum, who’s supposed to be her friend. The last time she came to visit us, she hit on Alex. Major no-no. Do you see what I mean?’

  ‘Um, I suppose,’ I reasoned. ‘But in a wider context? No. Not at all.’

  ‘So, Emily went on this cruise a couple of years ago,’ she continued. ‘She likes to flaunt how mega-rich she is now – if there was a cruise ship made of gold, she’d be on it. Anyway, at one point on the cruise, which I can only imagine was all kinds of boring, she got to go out and see the dolphins close up. There was a group of them on this little speedboat and they were riding along and the dolphins got so excited they started chasing the boat. After a while, they came level with the boat and were jumping out of the water at the same speed. Emily was loving it, snapping photos and flooding her Instagram while she stood as close to the side as she could. All her captions were like “OMG best day ever”, “Ahh, this one is definitely smiling at me. I think he fancies me!” and “Free Willy LOL”, which is annoying because Willy was a freaking orca and you know I hate when old people overuse text abbreviations.’

  Millie paused to assess my reaction.

  ‘Right,’ I said. ‘So … this is all still very vague …’

  ‘Well, you won’t believe what happened next,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘One of the dolphins overshot the mark. He jumped out of the water and ended up headbutting her in the face. He knocked her clean out.’

  ‘What?’

  Millie’s eyes went impossibly large. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Wow,’ I said. ‘That is really not how I saw that ending.’

  ‘So,’ she said, stepping back from me and lacing her fingers in front of her. ‘What are your thoughts?’

  ‘Was the dolphin OK?’

  ‘Yeah, he went right back on swimming.’ She grinned, before adding, ‘She had to get a second nose job, though.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, still trying to figure out the point of the story. I never was that good with metaphors in English class, but this one seemed particularly obscure. ‘And the reason you told me this story is because …’

  ‘Because, Soph, life is unpredictable. One minute you’re sipping champagne on a boat deck and laughing about how rich you are and the next minute you’re getting hit in the face by a dolphin. Shit happens, OK? No matter where you are or what you’re doing, you are still susceptible to the uncertainty of life. You can’t just roll yourself up in bubble wrap and close off the rest of the world. My point is that you need to get off your ass and come back outside before we lose the tail end of this summer and get sucked into the oblivion that is senior year.’

  ‘Well,’ I said, feeling very much like I had just had my ass handed to me. ‘I can’t really argue with that.’

  ‘No you cannot. The Dolphin Philosophy always prevails.’ She raised her palm in the air. ‘Now let’s get you back to normal, OK? Up top.’

  I high-fived her and she grabbed my wrist. ‘Hey, where did this bandage come from? Did you cut yourself?’

  Oh, yeah. That. ‘Accidentally …’ I hedged. ‘I sort of fell asleep with Luca’s switchblade in my hand.’

  ‘As you do,’ she deadpanned, moving her suspicious gaze from my hand to my face. ‘You really need to get rid of that.’

  ‘I will,’ I lied. The thought of relinquishing it brought an uncomfortable twinge to the base of my spine. It was in my pocket even then, resting heavy and sure against my thigh. I liked it. I needed it.

  ‘The sooner we get you out of this house the better. Tomorrow night, OK? How does bowling sound?’

  ‘Like fresh hell.’ I withdrew my hand and pulled the sleeve of my shirt over it. ‘I’d rather take a dolphin to the face.’

  ‘You should be so lucky,’ she retorted. ‘The movies, then?’

  ‘Only if we can watch that one with the robot who falls in love with the human who made him.’

  ‘Sophie,’ she whined. ‘You know I can’t relate to non-human love stories. That’s why The Princess and the Frog was so problematic for me. They spend way too much time as frogs.’

  ‘Mil, if I’m going to re-enter society, I’ll be damned if it’s not to the backdrop of a futuristic romance that transcends both scientific engineering and biology to conquer impossible odds for true love.’

  ‘Fine,’ she conceded, with an eye-roll. ‘I’ll suffer this one for you.’

  ‘Oh, cheer up. It’ll be fun.’ I patted her on the arm, trying to force some enthusiasm. ‘Smize.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE GIRL WITH PURPLE HAIR

  Millie drove us to the movie theatre in her new car, a second-hand Toyota Matrix she had been drooling over and saving for all summer. Despite the fact we almost crashed at several intersections, and she had absolutely no respect for the speed limit, we made it in one piece. I got out, feeling marginally strengthened by the fact that fate must be back on my side.

  Friday night wasn’t exactly the best time to go to the movies. The whole place was wedged with people and every time someone brushed against me, I jumped a little. I did my best to loosen up, but it was hard to let go completely without scoping out our surroundings every couple of minutes.

  Millie and I trickled into the line at the concession stand.

  ‘Are you getting popcorn?’ she asked.

  I was looking over my shoulder. I felt shivery, like something was amiss. I tried to relax. I was too aware of my heartbeat, and my palms were slicking with sweat. Focus. Calm down.

  Millie prodded me. ‘Helloooo.’

  ‘What?’ I stroked the switchblade in my pocket. I hadn’t wanted to bring it with me, but the idea of going to the movie theatre had just felt so huge at the time. I needed it to keep my anxiety under control.

  ‘Popcorn,’ said Millie, snapping her fingers in front of my face. ‘Full disclosure: there will be rivers of butter on my popcorn. Lakes, in fact. I’m getting popcorn with my butter, OK? Is that what you want to hear? I’ll be drowning in a vat of my own buttery shame. And don’t you dare look at me with those judgy eyes, Sophie Gracewell, don’t you dare judge me.’

  ‘Moi?’ I protested, clenching and unclenching my fist around the switchblade and offering her a blithe smile. ‘I would never. I actually think that decision is very inspired. I may even copy you.’

  Millie twirled her hands. ‘And that is why I’m the trailblazer.’

  I bristled as the woman behind me brushed against my back. I stood a little straighter, and flicked my gaze over my shoulder. Not a threat. ‘And what am I?’ I asked Millie, keeping up with the flow of conversation while my brain whirred.

  ‘You’re the sarcastic one.’

  ‘So you get “trailblazer” and I get “sarcastic”?’

  ‘OK, then. You’re the one with the little face dents.’

  ‘I prefer the term “dimples”. And that’s still terrible.’

  ‘Fine.’ She studied me in quiet
contemplation. ‘You’re …’

  ‘The moron who walks herself into danger?’

  ‘You’re the moron who walks herself out of danger!’ She clapped her hands in celebration. ‘That’s a good one, actually. You’re slippery.’

  I moved my gaze over her shoulder. A woman with plum-coloured hair was hovering across the foyer. It was cut short, styled into a severe bob with the heaviest bangs I’d ever seen. My recent love affair with America’s Next Top Model had attuned me to hairstyles, and as far as dramatic cuts went, this one was hard to miss. It covered her eyebrows and hung low over theatrical eye make-up.

  Millie noticed my distraction. ‘Cute boy?’ She followed my gaze. ‘You’re being woefully obvious.’

  ‘See the girl with the purple hair?’

  Millie turned her whole body around. ‘Who? Lego-head over there?’

  I pinched her. ‘Stop being so obvious. I swear she’s watching us.’

  ‘She probably can’t even see us through her fringe.’

  ‘I’m serious. There’s something up with her.’

  Millie rolled her eyes. ‘Soph, come on. We’ve been over this a hundred times. Nobody is out to get you. You’re safe.’

  We edged closer to the till. ‘Just hear me out,’ I said, still keeping an eye on the purple-haired girl. She was pacing now, looping around the theatre in a circle. If she was trying to play it cool, she was failing; I was on to her. ‘She was in the parking lot the same time we were. She was staring at us so hard I thought she was going to hit on you. Then she was standing behind us the whole time we were getting our tickets, and now she’s lingering here but she hasn’t bought one thing.’

  Millie was gaping at me. ‘Soph, has it really gotten this bad …’

  ‘I know what you’re going to tell me. You’re going to tell me it’s a movie theatre and there’s loads of people here and that’s the whole point and I’m being paranoid …’

  She nodded along with me.

  ‘But Mil, the more I think about it, I’m pretty sure she was driving a black Mercedes in the parking lot. That’s the same type of car that’s been driving by my house!’

  Millie opened her mouth like she was going to say something. She stopped, closed it, and swallowed. She sighed. ‘OK, well, what do you want to do about this? Do you want me to go over there and talk to her? Would that make you feel better?’

  I thumbed the closed blade in my pocket. ‘Just watch her. Let’s see what she does.’

  ‘OK,’ she resolved, looking around. ‘I don’t even know where she’s gone.’

  ‘She’s by the windows over there. Don’t look now. She’s doing something on her phone.’

  ‘Right, well, just forget about it for now. I bet she’s just waiting for a date, or an adequate hairdresser.’

  The couple in front of us moved off. We took our place at the counter. Millie ordered our food and we made our way to the screen, carrying obnoxiously large buckets of popcorn.

  I waited for Purple Hair to follow us in, but she didn’t. I kept my other hand in my pocket, clenched around the closed switchblade. Calmness trickled over me. Deep down I knew I was just being paranoid, but outings like this would help it ease over time. I just had to push myself. After a while my heart rate settled to a steady pace. I popped a handful of popcorn into my mouth and revelled in the taste of butter on my tongue. The lights dimmed and the screen flickered to life.

  Afterwards, we used the restroom because the movie had, against all odds, managed to emotionally obliterate Millie.

  ‘You don’t have to look so smug about it,’ she told my reflection, as she scrubbed the mascara tracks from her face.

  ‘You wept,’ I said, triumph stretching the smile on my face. ‘You wept like a baby.’

  ‘Oh, excuse me for caring about the love story. You didn’t tell me she was going to have to murder him in the end.’ She sniffed. ‘I mean, she dismantled him.’

  ‘Yeah, well, sometimes robots go bad. Besides, I thought you said you couldn’t connect with non-human love stories anyway, so why are you getting all weepy about it?’

  ‘You didn’t tell me he’d be a hot robot! I was picturing the gold guy from Star Wars.’

  I laughed and the feeling was an airy tickle in my chest – something I hadn’t felt in a while. I wasn’t thinking about the switchblade or the warehouse or the paranoia. I was thinking about my best friend and how funny she was without even meaning it, and I might have kept laughing if we hadn’t run into the purple-haired girl the second we left the bathroom.

  She was hovering in the foyer, like she had never left. Suspicion surged inside me – uncomfortable and suffocating. My throat went tight. She was standing by the windows, slumped casually against the wall, her phone in her hands, but her gaze was roving.

  ‘I see her,’ said Millie, under her breath. ‘So before you start freaking out, don’t. Her movie’s clearly just finished, and we’re going to the car anyway, so just ignore it.’

  God, was I that obvious?

  I side-glanced at her as we shuffled by. At closer range I noted that she wasn’t particularly scary. She was young and short – about my height – and she chewed on her lip with a self-consciousness that didn’t exactly terrify me. She was on the phone, and it looked like she was having an argument. Maybe she had been stood up. Maybe she had been waiting this whole time for a date or a friend. God, she was so young. I was suddenly highly embarrassed by my jumpiness. I could feel my skin flooding with patches of red. What the hell was wrong with me? It was worse than being afraid of my own shadow. She was probably more afraid of me at this point. I had been staring at her non-stop for most of the evening. And I was the one with a knife in my pocket.

  ‘I think I’m freaking her out,’ I whispered to Millie.

  ‘Oh, you definitely are.’

  In the parking lot Millie had to dig through her purse to find her keys. ‘Why do they make them so easy to lose in there?’ she huffed. ‘I swear, if this isn’t the most annoying thing about driving I don’t know what is.’

  ‘Just put your key in a separate pocket or something.’

  ‘Great idea. If you could just mail that to two hours ago that would be great.’ She dropped her bag and crouched beside it as she rifled through it.

  The lot was almost empty now. Our movie had been the last to finish and the remaining cars were thinning out, leaving open spaces lit up in circles from the street lamps.

  Purple Hair was jogging towards her car. When she stopped, she turned in my direction. We stared at each other for a second before she looked away. She leant against her car, just like I was, and started examining her fingernails. I watched her in sulky silence. Her Mercedes had black rims. After a couple of seconds, she flicked her gaze up again and started walking towards me. I felt myself tense. Either she was going to yell at me for staring at her or admit to her stalkery.

  Millie sprang up, key in hand. ‘Suck it, universe!’

  Purple Hair, who was less than twenty feet away now, froze mid-step and swivelled abruptly, marching back towards her car. She flung the door open and jumped in.

  What the hell? Was I going insane? Was I supposed to know her?

  Was she a Falcone?

  I shook myself out of my delusions before they took me over completely. Most of this was in my head. Focus. Breathe. We got in the car and Millie revved the engine, humming to herself as she adjusted the air conditioner. The black Mercedes was behind us as we made our way out of the lot, I decided not to say anything this time. We drove with the radio on and I almost bit through my fingers.

  ‘Weird,’ Millie said finally, when we were turning into Cedar Hill fifteen minutes later. ‘I swear that Mercedes has been behind us the whole way.’

  ‘I told you!’ I flooded with triumph. ‘She’s stalking us!’

  ‘What?’ she said, narrowing her eyes at the rear-view mirror. ‘Is that Lego-head?’

  ‘She’s been behind us the whole way.’

  ‘Huh.’ Mi
llie flicked an indicator at the last minute and turned up a side street. The Mercedes followed. ‘You know what? I think you’re right. There’s something up with this chick. Let’s see if we can lose her.’

  ‘Mil, don’t do anyth—’

  Millie slammed on the brakes and turned on to another side street with a deafening squeal. I was thrown, shrieking, against the side of the car. She crushed the accelerator and we sped down the street, taking a last-minute turn on to another residential row of houses and zigzagging around the neighbourhood.

  After twenty minutes of what Millie called ‘stealth driving’ around Cedar Hill, we doubled back and pulled up outside my house. I got out, feeling a passing urge to kiss the pavement.

  ‘Told ya we’d lose Lego-head!’ She was cackling to herself. She didn’t really feel threatened. Suspicious maybe, but only mildly, and I could tell the chase was for my benefit. She offered me a brace-filled grin as she pulled away. ‘See ya tomorrow for phase two of our rehabilitation plan!’

  My mother greeted me at the door. ‘How was it?’ Her tone was anxious but her expression was going for enthusiasm. ‘Was it fun? Did you have fun?’

  I felt a sudden urge to hug her, but I stifled it. I didn’t want to freak her out. ‘It was good,’ I said. ‘I had fun.’ I kept the memory of the black Mercedes wiped from my expression.

  She smiled, a whisper of relief in her response. ‘I’m so glad, sweetheart.’

  I wondered how long she had been watching the driveway, waiting for me to come home. ‘What did you get up to?’ I asked. ‘Did you see the girls?’

  She waved her hand around as I shut the door behind us. ‘I didn’t get around to it,’ she said airily. ‘I did some gardening instead. Watched some TV. Did you eat?’

  ‘Popcorn. A mountain of it.’

  She laughed, ruffling my hair. ‘Well, you’re definitely back to your old self!’

  I kept the threads of panic bound up in my throat. ‘Yup, I’m feeling much better.’

  She rested her hand on my shoulder and I touched my head against hers. She smelt of lavender and peppermint. We went into the kitchen, both of us walking carefully on eggshells.