Fractured (Guards of the Shadowlands, Book Two)

by Sarah Fine

  “Now, that I can do,” he murmured, and sank me under the weight of dreamless sleep.

  ELEVEN

  WHEN I WOKE UP on Monday, for once, I found myself grateful that I had to go to school. It had been a long weekend of fruitless patrols, broken up only by the hours I spent alone in my room, crying into my pillow so that Diane wouldn’t hear. Jim had decided to remain a Guard, and so far was following orders. So was Malachi. Perfectly, as I would expect. Coldly, which hurt more than I could say. Firefighters had discovered two bodies in the basement of that Mazikin nest, burned beyond recognition. Police were investigating. They suspected the house had been a drug den. I knew better, but we’d combed the area and come up empty, so now we were back at square one.

  I needed the distraction desperately. And maybe the chance to grab a nap.

  Then I remembered I had two classes with Malachi. At least Henry had agreed to drop him off at school in the mornings, so I didn’t have to ride in a car with him. I wasn’t sure the fragile stitches holding me together would hold if he were that close to me.

  The early morning sun bounced off lampposts and windows and windshields, blinding me as I pulled into the school lot well before school was set to start. I stood outside my car, which was one of the few in the parking lot, wishing my head would stop pounding, wishing I hadn’t promised to meet—

  Tegan pulled her little black BMW into the space beside mine and got out, holding two coffees. She offered one to me. “I don’t know how you like it, so it’s black.”

  I cradled it in my hands, savoring the warmth in the cold morning air. “Thanks.”

  “Want to go in or sit in my car?”

  I didn’t really want to be in an enclosed space with her, but when I saw the gray sedan pull into the lot, Henry at the wheel and Malachi sitting next to him, I practically dove into her passenger seat.

  “Okay,” she said as she settled herself in the driver’s seat. “How was the rest of your weekend?”

  I took a sip of the coffee and let it sear my throat. “Fine. But you didn’t ask me here to talk about my weekend.”

  She blinked. “You always cut right through the bullshit, huh?”

  “I’ve never had time for it.” And I had no interest in preserving her feelings.

  “Well, if that’s the way it is … the purple in your shirt matches the circles under your eyes,” Tegan commented.

  “I guess you won’t bullshit me, either. I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

  “Because of Nadia?”

  “No.” Missing Nadia was like a chronic ache inside me, especially at moments like this, because Tegan was trying to be friendly, but she was no substitute for the friend I’d lost. That wasn’t what was keeping me up at night, though.

  Tegan’s gray-blue eyes landed on me hard. “Lela, are you okay? I mean, I thought you were, but then … what happened on Saturday?”

  I closed my eyes, wishing I hadn’t been too wrecked to come up with a decent cover story. “I … the smell in that kitchen started to make me feel sick, so I went outside to get some air. I, um, got jumped. By a guy. I didn’t have my wallet. So he … beat me up and left me there.”

  Tegan’s eyes grew huge and shiny, filled with righteous anger. “You got mugged? You texted me to get Malachi for you and didn’t even mention that?” Her little fist banged against her steering wheel, causing the horn to let out a high-pitched yip. “Was it one of those homeless people? Could you pick them out of a lineup?”

  I rubbed at my temples, my head feeling like it was going to split open. “Slow down, Tegan. I don’t … it’s okay. Can we drop it? I’m fine, and I shouldn’t have been wandering around alone anyway. Serves me right.”

  She shifted in her seat and tapped her long fingernails on the bottom edge of the steering wheel. “You—you aren’t involved in anything illegal, right?”

  I shook my head but couldn’t look at her.

  “You’re not taking drugs or something, are you?” she whispered.

  “What? Are you crazy? Did Nadia tell you anything about me?”

  She shrank back in her seat. “All right, I’m sorry.” Her face was super pale. She looked like she was about to faint. “Nadia did tell me you thought drugs were stupid and everything, but I thought maybe, you know, when she died … never mind.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I … went to her grave yesterday.”

  I sank back in my seat. I hadn’t been since the funeral, but that would sound heartless to anyone who didn’t know what I’d gone through to make sure Nadia was all right.

  “I hated you,” Tegan blurted, and then looked straight-up startled at the sound of her own voice. She cleared her throat. “I still hate you, a little.”

  Once again, I found myself regretting that Tegan’s therapist had once told her she should bond with me. I leaned forward, all her rude comments over the past year running through my head. “You brought me coffee so you could tell me that? I never did anything to you. Except to hate you, too, but that was because you were such a bitch to me.”

  “I know.”

  “Why, then? Is it because I don’t come from money? Because I wasn’t raised like you?”

  She looked at me in horror. “No! No. None of that.” With shaking hands, she put her coffee in the cup holder, and then picked up a napkin and started to fiddle with it, mumbling inaudibly.

  “Come on now,” I snapped. “If we’re going to have it out, let’s do it. Speak. Up.”

  “Because you were good for her!” she shouted.

  I focused on my cup, my fingers squeezing it so hard that the lid popped off. Nadia had been good for me, that was for sure. “I’m sure you were good for her, too.”

  She scoffed. “I thought you were all about the absence of bullshit. Now I see you’re full of it.”

  I shrugged. “You were friends with her for a lot longer than I was.”

  She ripped the napkin down the middle. “Maybe. I thought I was a good friend, too. I never said no to her when she wanted something.”

  I took another sip, even though it tasted like tar and ashes. It took me a long time to swallow it. “It was hard to say no to her.”

  “You did.” Her unsteady fingers tore the napkin at the edges, creating a brown paper frill. “I was the one who gave her the pills,” she said in a strained voice. “It wasn’t the first time, either. She told me she just needed to relax, and my dad had a bottle of oxys left from his back surgery a year ago. I had no idea she’d take all of them at once … it’s bad, I know.”

  I raised my head and stared at her. I knew she wanted me to tell her it was okay, but it wasn’t. Pills. Nadia’d had a problem even before I met her, and it was what had killed her. Hell, even after she died, she was still looking for them. I set my cup in the cup holder and jammed my hands between my knees. “Don’t tell me that, Tegan. Just. Don’t.”

  She sniffled and pulled a tissue from her purse. “Fuck you.”

  It struck me as so ridiculous, me and Tegan, sitting here, cursing at each other. I started laughing. “Fuck you, too,” I said, and flipped her off for good measure.

  She accepted my twisted peace offering for what it was. She raised her prettily manicured middle finger and stuck her tongue out at me. We both needed to step off the hot topic. The ground there was too dangerous, so we could retreat behind this stupidity because it was all we had right now.

  We stared out her windshield for a few minutes, watching Malachi walk slowly across the wide sidewalk and up to the looming glass and brick facade of our school. “Laney’s pretty determined to snatch your boy,” Tegan commented. “Just thought you should know.”

  Before I could respond, Malachi’s eyes swept across the parking lot and landed on my car. I sank down in my seat, praying his eyes wouldn’t stray to Tegan’s BMW, hoping the sun’s glare would keep him from seeing me if they did.

  “Whoa. All is not well with the Russian hottie?” she asked. “He looks almost as unhappy as you do.”

  I slum
ped in my seat. “He’s not Russian. And no, all is not well. And also: I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She leaned back in her seat and slumped a little, too, so her head was level with mine. She nudged me with her elbow. “Fine. But I’m here, all right? If you ever do want to talk.”

  “Are you serious? You want to listen to my boy troubles?”

  “Meh. Not really.” She flipped me off again.

  I nudged her back, hard enough to make her wince. “That’s more like it. Are you ready to go?”

  “Yeah. It’s going to be awkward today with Aden, but I’ll deal with it.”

  “I sympathize.”

  We got out of the car and looked over the now crowded lot. A bunch of baseball players were having an animated conversation over by Ian’s huge cherry-red SUV. Greg was gesturing wildly, and in his hand was an iPhone. No more crappy flip phone for him—and it looked like he wanted everyone to know it. Ian appeared to be listening to him with good-natured patience, but his eyes kept moving over to me and Tegan.

  “He was worried about you on Saturday,” Tegan said as she waved at him.

  I looked away as Ian’s gaze landed on me. “It was nice of him to show up at all. Have you talked with Aden since he no-showed?”

  She made a gagging noise as she flashed a death glare at Aden’s hapless teammates. “Ugh. Yes. He’s such a creep. He came over to my house Saturday night and tried to get me to go out with him. He was so pushy and weird that my dad threatened to call the police if he didn’t leave. Dad says I should get a restraining order. Hang on,” she said as she fished her ringing phone from her purse. “Oh my God! This is, like, the fourth time he’s called me this morning.” She held it up to her ear. “I told you to delete my number,” she hissed. “I—what? Why would you want to talk to her?” She stared at me.

  Then her eyes grew wide, and she turned sharply to look up at the school. I followed the line of her vision, up the side of the building, until it landed on a figure standing on the roof.

  “What the hell are you doing up there?” she shrieked into the phone. “What? No—what? Don’t—no; whatever, sure, here she is! Here she is!”

  My mouth dropped open as she shoved the phone at me. Her voice was painfully high-pitched as she said, “He said he wants to talk to you, and if I don’t give you the phone, he’s jumping.”

  I grabbed the phone, too stunned to do anything else. From all around me came the voices, laughing first and then more frantic as all eyes fixed on Aden Matthews, who stood on the edge of the roof, four stories up, right over the front entrance, one arm spread wide, one hand holding his phone to his ear.

  “Hello?” I said into the phone as my world tilted dangerously, sliding my morning straight into crazyland. “Aden?”

  “Lela,” he said. “Lela.” His voice was shaky with energy. Maybe he was high?

  “Hey, Aden. What—what are you doing up there? School’s about to start.” I sounded like such an idiot, but what was I supposed to say? I’d never talked someone off a roof before.

  He chuckled. “Lela. Lela and Malachi.”

  I stared at his distant figure, at the toes of his shoes protruding over the edge of the roof. Surely somebody had called school security by now? I glanced over to see Ian staring up at his friend, his own phone pressed against his ear.

  “Um. Yeah,” I said. “If you come down, I’m sure Malachi would go out with you and your—”

  “Captain Malachi. Tell him Ibram sends his regards.”

  Cold fingers of dread snaked out of the cracks in the blacktop beneath my feet and slid up my legs, anchoring me in place. “What did you say?”

  “We know you’re here.” His low, hooting laughter made me pull the phone away from my ear.

  I heard the shout through the phone. Aden spun around to look at someone who had joined him on the roof. For a moment, he held both his arms out for balance, but then he pressed the phone to his ear again. “Sil knows you’re here. He knows who your friends are. And he’ll see you soon.”

  And then, the body that had once belonged to Aden Matthews stepped off the roof of Warwick High School and plummeted to the cement below.

  TWELVE

  EVERYONE WAS SCREAMING. MOUTHS wide, tongues vibrating with the terror and shock, the whites of their eyes shining in the morning sun.

  But in my head, it was silent. Like I was wearing a helmet of soundproof glass.

  I was in motion before he landed, running toward the spot I knew he would hit.

  Not because I wanted to save him. It was far too late for that.

  Because I wanted to interrogate the Mazikin inside him.

  But after the crack-split-thunk, I knew the creature inhabiting his body would never be able to answer my questions. Air whooshed from my lungs. My heart jacked up tight and painful, beating itself into a giant bruise.

  Then a sound reached me, an animal wail, wretched and broken. I spun around. There’s another one here. But no. Tegan shoved past me, staggering toward Aden’s shattered body. Those horrible, wrenching sobs were coming from her. Beyond her, half the student body had their phones out, probably blowing up the emergency dispatch, calling for a completely unnecessary ambulance. Or snapping pics to post on Facebook. Ian and the rest of Aden’s teammates were still huddled by his SUV, all the blood drained from their faces.

  A hand closed over my shoulder, and I jerked away.

  “Are you all right?” Malachi asked as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “What happened?”

  I nodded toward Aden’s body, which was now surrounded by a bunch of people, gray-green-faced teachers holding out their arms to shove students back, the weeping school nurse on her knees beside his head, the principal wringing her hands and shouting at everyone to calm down. The red-haired school counselor, Ms. Ketzler, had folded Tegan’s waifish body against her own and was rocking back and forth, mascara-laced tears falling from her round cheeks into Tegan’s hair.

  “Mazikin,” I said quietly. “I think it was Ibram.” The Mazikin responsible for the death of Ana, Malachi’s former Guard partner.

  Malachi’s expression sharpened. “Say that again.”

  “They got Aden. He’d been possessed.” I jogged out of the way as an ambulance with screeching sirens pulled up to the curb and disgorged two frowning paramedics.

  Malachi followed me back to my car. I didn’t realize I was still clutching Tegan’s phone until it started to ring in my hand. I put it in my pocket and then told my Lieutenant what had just happened.

  “You know, Friday night? When Aden asked you to go out with him and his buddies? They were hunting the Mazikin. Jim and I ran into them as we were patrolling in south Pawtucket.” I looked over at the baseball team, still hovering around Ian. “I should have had you go with them.”

  Malachi looked back and forth between the carnage and the pale-faced baseball players. “You think they found the Mazikin?”

  I nodded. “If Ibram possessed Aden, he would have had access to his memories. He must have recognized you. And me.”

  “They sacrificed Aden to make a point,” Malachi said.

  And what a point it was. They could kill our friends, and from the outside, it would look like suicide. No way to prove otherwise. “What if Aden wasn’t the only one they got?” I asked.

  The baseball players watched as the ambulance, sirens silent, carried Aden’s body away from us. The voice of the principal blared over loudspeakers, announcing that school would be cancelled for the day, but that any student who wished to talk could convene in the cafeteria. Parents were being alerted, which meant Diane would probably be home within half an hour, waiting for me.

  “Ian appeared to be himself on Saturday,” Malachi replied. He watched the baseball players as they began to walk toward the school. “But it’s been nearly forty-eight hours since we’ve seen him. And there is no way to know about Greg and Levi just by looking at them.”

  “Do you think you could get close to those guys?” I pulled Tegan�
��s phone from my pocket to see that Ian was trying to reach her. Picking up where Aden left off? “You’re right—a lot of time has passed since Friday. Some of them might have been taken, too. And they might be trying to lure others. Aden—Ibram, I mean—tried to get ahold of Tegan on Saturday. If her dad hadn’t been home, he might have succeeded.”

  “Then I’ll question them,” he said, glaring at Ian’s back as he and the others disappeared into the school.

  Seeing the fierce look on his face, I reached for his arm but stopped as my hand bounced off the boundary of the no-fly zone I imagined around his body. “Go easy, all right? Act like a curious, concerned guy, not a Guard. I mean, if you smell a Mazikin, let me know immediately, but stay cool. Don’t gut anyone in the school cafeteria.”

  He looked down at my hand still suspended in midair. “Understood, Captain.”

  I wished he’d just punch me. It would have been less painful than his remoteness. I drew a shaky breath. “And make sure you have their numbers, okay? We need to start keeping closer tabs on all of Aden’s friends because Ibram made sure to tell me that the Mazikin know who they are. I’m going to check on Tegan. I’ll touch base later.”

  I walked away without another word, too fried for politeness, too brittle to look Malachi in the eye. Probably too burnt to talk to Tegan, but it was the right thing to do. After all, if the Mazikin were infiltrating our school and targeting people I knew, she would be at the top of the list.

  I ended up taking Tegan home. She was too distraught to drive. Plus, until I knew whether any other students were Mazikin, I didn’t feel like leaving her alone. They might know they could get to me through her now.

  “This doesn’t make sense. He had a scholarship to BU,” she whispered after several minutes of silence. “He was so psyched. And he said he was going to travel this summer. To Europe. He wanted to get drunk at an Irish pub. One in Ireland.”

  I turned onto her pristine street lined with carefully trimmed shrubs. “I’m sorry, Tegan.”