by Jenna Black
The condo was a pretty good size, considering this was Center City Philadelphia, but it still required a creative use of resources to find places for fifteen people to sleep. There was a lot of bed sharing going on, and Marlene and I had a couple of air mattresses packed into a study that was barely big enough to hold them. Bob, who’d tolerated the attentions of Missy the black Lab throughout the day, had apparently had enough and decided to join us, squeezing into the space under the desk and curling into a contented ball.
Marlene and I changed into our pj’s, and I wondered what the chances were that I’d be able to sleep tonight. My body felt exhausted, and emotionally I was running on empty, but I feared what would happen when I closed my eyes. Today had been hard, but at least there’d been distractions. Those were all gone now—or at least, so I thought.
“Luke told me what happened to your dad,” Marlene said, sitting cross-legged on her air mattress.
I froze, strangely startled. For all the talking Marlene had done today, the topics of conversation had never been serious. She’d told a lot of stories, most of which were funny, and she’d talked about books and TV shows and movies. I envied her facility with small talk and wasn’t prepared for her suddenly grave tone.
“Are you tired enough to sleep yet,” she continued, “or do you want to stay up awhile?”
My throat tightened and I shrugged. I wouldn’t have been able to get words out even if I could think of any.
“I’ve never lost anyone like that myself,” Marlene said, “but my best friend lost her mom in a drunk-driving accident last year. I know she’s kind of a mess on holidays, so I imagine it’s tough on you, too.”
I let out a shuddering sigh. “You could say that.” I tried to return Marlene’s kind smile, but I doubted I did a very convincing job of it.
“If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. I just wanted you to know that you can talk if you want to.”
For all the time I’d spent lately wishing I had someone my own age to talk to—someone other than Luke, who came with other complications—Marlene was still basically a stranger to me, and I wasn’t inclined to open my heart to her. However, I wasn’t inclined to lie down and be alone with my thoughts, either, and I wished I were better with small talk.
“Thanks,” I said. “But I don’t think talking about it is going to help right now.”
“Like I said, that’s fine.” She flashed me another smile, and I could see no hint of hurt or irritation in her. “But we don’t have to talk about gloomy stuff if you don’t want to. If I’m being annoying and you just want me to shut up and let you sleep, let me know. I promise I won’t take it personally.”
“You’re not being annoying,” I hastened to assure her. “I just kind of suck at small talk.”
Marlene laughed and waved off my concern. “I talk enough for three people. At least that’s what my folks say. I’m always happy to have an audience that actually listens to me.”
I laughed, despite the heaviness in my heart.
“You’re a hell of a lot easier to talk to than Luke’s last girlfriend,” Marlene continued with a roll of her eyes. “I mean, I talk a lot, I know, but it’s not always about myself. I actually find other people interesting too.”
I didn’t know which part of that statement to react to first. When my dad had bad-mouthed Piper, I’d always been quick to leap to her defense, but my feelings for her were such a jumbled mess right now I couldn’t even tell if I wanted to defend her. So I tackled the easier subject first.
“I’m not Luke’s girlfriend.” I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, knew Marlene would have no trouble seeing my easy blush. But one kiss—okay, a whole bunch of kisses, but all in the space of just a few minutes—didn’t make me into Luke’s girlfriend. “We’re just friends and neighbors is all.”
Marlene raised an eyebrow and cocked her head. “Oh really?” she asked, with infinite skepticism.
The heat in my face intensified. “Really.” I wanted to be Luke’s girlfriend, but even if I could convince myself that he was genuinely interested in me that way, there was still the issue of Piper. Obviously, he didn’t want her the way she was now, but I would still feel like I was betraying my best friend if I took advantage of what had happened to her to steal her boyfriend.
“I’ve known Cousin Luke since we were both in diapers,” Marlene said. “I’ve never seen him look at a ‘friend’ the way he looks at you.”
I blinked in surprise at that. I’d never noticed Luke looking at me in any special way. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Marlene had caught me looking at him like some love-struck puppy, but not the other way around.
“He’s still technically with Piper,” I said, but it sounded lame even to me.
“Even if Piper hadn’t gone off the deep end, there was no way they were going to be together much longer. Luke was too loyal to dump her, but believe me, he was getting tired of some of the shit she pulled.”
Marlene was obviously another entry on the short list of people who didn’t like Piper. The pre-night Piper, that is. There wasn’t much to like about what Piper had become now.
Marlene gave me a long, speculative look that made me want to squirm. Then she said, “I’ll tell you a secret, but you have to promise you won’t tell Luke I told you. He’d kill me.”
It sounded like this secret was one that wasn’t hers to tell, and if I were being honorable I’d have urged her not to share it. If Luke had secrets, that was his business, not mine. But there’s a difference between knowing the right thing to do and actually doing it.
“I won’t say a word,” I promised.
“Pinkie swear, cross your heart, hope to die, all that stuff?”
I laughed at her earnestness. “Absolutely.”
She leaned forward conspiratorially and lowered her voice as if she thought someone might be listening in. “Luke always really liked Piper, and they had fun together and all, but she was never really the one he wanted.”
“Huh?”
“He’s had a crush on you for, like, forever.”
“What?” I squeaked, sure I must have heard her wrong.
“I kept telling him he should ask you out if he liked you so much, but he was convinced you weren’t interested. He said you would barely give him the time of day and that you avoided him whenever you could. I always suspected that didn’t mean what he thought it meant, but he thought it would be too awkward if he asked you out and you said no, what with you living so close and seeing so much of each other.”
I hate to think what color my face had turned by now. My mom had always warned me that some people who don’t know better confuse shyness for aloofness or unfriendliness. But somehow it had never occurred to me that Luke might have interpreted my shyness around him as meaning I wasn’t interested.
“No way,” I said, fighting against the warmth of hope that tried to kindle in my belly. “You’re just making this up. Trying to play matchmaker or something.” Or maybe distract me from the misery of my first Thanksgiving without my dad.
Marlene snorted. “If I didn’t already know he was interested, there wouldn’t be much point in playing matchmaker. It’s not like he’s going to go out with someone just because I told him to. We’re close, but we’re not that close.”
I shook my head in helpless denial.
“Piper made it easy for him,” Marlene continued. “She gave him plenty of evidence she was interested, so asking her out was zero risk. He’s a really good guy, but like most guys his ego can be surprisingly fragile sometimes.”
I swallowed hard, remembering how he had kissed me, how natural and right it had felt. I’d been telling myself it was an act of pity, a heat-of-the-moment impulse he surely regretted, but maybe it wasn’t his fragile ego that was at issue here.
“I’m sorry if telling you all that makes things more complicated for you,” Marlene said, a furrow of concern between her brows. “Maybe I should have kept my big mouth shut. But as you may have notic
ed, keeping my mouth shut isn’t one of my strong suits.”
I laughed weakly. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad you told me. I just … need some time to rethink everything. I always thought he wasn’t interested in me. But even if we’re both interested, it’s still complicated.”
“Because of Piper.”
“Yeah.”
We both fell silent.
The condo was on the twentieth floor of an impressively tall building, and the study had a nice view of the Delaware, with no other tall buildings in sight, so neither Marlene nor I had thought to close the blinds. There was a sudden loud tapping sound on the window that made both of us jump and gasp.
Bob catapulted out of his den beneath the desk, snarling and jumping at the window. It was too dark out to see much of anything, but there was a flurry of tapping sounds, and a shadow crossed the window, skittering downward. The tapping sound continued, fading away as the whatever-it-was made its way down the building, presumably heading for the sidewalk.
It was always possible it had been just some random night construct having fun with the people in the building, tapping at windows and generally terrorizing them. It might have had nothing to do with me at all.
But I couldn’t help the creeping suspicion that something had been sent there for me. That it had been watching me. Spying on me. And the thought that it might have overheard that particular conversation and might report it back to Piper or Aleric wasn’t comfortable at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Marlene was fast asleep and Bob was snoring so loudly I was surprised he hadn’t awakened the whole household. It was after two in the morning, and I had yet to come close to finding peace and falling asleep. My eyes were gritty and my whole body felt about fifty percent heavier than usual, but my mind didn’t care how tired my body was.
Marlene had been quick to dismiss the sounds at our window as just another episode of the city’s night madness, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that that creature had been here specifically for me. Maybe I was being paranoid or egocentric—I really, really hoped I was—but I doubted it. As far as I could tell from the news, the madness in the night was impersonal, the constructs and the Nightstruck attacking anyone who had the bad luck to cross their paths, rather than targeting individuals. But Piper—and Aleric, too—wanted me in particular. I hadn’t seen Piper since the night she and her new friends lured my dad out to his death, but I was under no illusion that she was through with me.
My overnight bag was wedged between the head of my air bed and the wall, my dirty clothes sitting rolled up on top of it. If it had been any farther away, I might not have heard the ding of a text message coming through over Bob’s persistent snoring.
There was no one who would legitimately send me a text at two in the morning. Which meant I should ignore it, on the assumption that it had to be a wrong number. Maybe if I were even a tiny bit closer to sleep I would have, but instead I dug my phone out of my bag and squinted at the message in the darkness.
I’ll call in 5. Answer, or U won’t have house 2 go home 2.
I shuddered and hugged myself. I didn’t recognize the number, but I knew it had to be Piper. If she wanted to make a call or send a text, she would simply steal someone’s cell phone. I wondered if the phone’s true owner was still alive.
I wondered, but if the answer was no, I didn’t want to know.
It goes without saying that I had no desire to talk to Piper. Ever again, unless she came back to herself. But she was not a construct, and that meant she could get into my house if she could find a way around all the locks, which I had of course changed since learning Aleric had Dad’s keys. Hell, even if she couldn’t find a way in, she could probably find a way to burn the house down from the outside. It wouldn’t matter to her that she’d probably take out the entire row of houses in the process.
Not wanting to risk being responsible for another horror, I slipped quietly out of my bed and tiptoed out of the study. There were people sleeping in every room of the house except the bathrooms, so I made my way to the nearest one and prayed it wouldn’t be occupied.
I was in luck—the bathroom was empty. I slipped inside and locked the door, then turned on the light and squinted in the sudden brightness. I would have to keep my voice down, no matter what Piper said, or the people sleeping in the living room would hear me.
I didn’t want to sit on the commode, so instead I sat on the floor with my back resting against the wall. I stared at my phone, which I had put in silent mode, and tried to control my dread. Just the thought of hearing Piper’s voice was enough to make me shudder. Even if somehow, through some miracle, she could be restored to herself, could become the pre-night Piper again, I doubted I could ever be her friend again. Maybe that wasn’t fair of me; maybe she was just a victim of the night and shouldn’t be held responsible for her actions. But fairness didn’t much matter. Technically it was the goat that had killed my father, but it was Piper who had arranged it all, and I would never, ever forgive her for that.
My phone lit up and buzzed, and I had to close my eyes to stave off a wave of nausea. I didn’t know how I could manage having a conversation with Piper right now, but I couldn’t let her take my house away from me. Not that I could stop her, if she had other demands I couldn’t meet or if she just wanted to do it to hurt me.
I answered but couldn’t force myself to speak, just sat there silently with my heart thumping so loudly I felt like I was walking through the giant beating heart at the Franklin Institute. It was a display meant to teach kids about how the heart worked, but it had always freaked me out.
“Hey there, Becks,” Piper said in a cheerful, upbeat voice that made me want to reach through the phone and strangle her. “Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?” I still couldn’t find my voice, but as usual that didn’t bother Piper. “I hear you had a lovely dinner with my boyfriend and his family. Luke loves them to death, I know, but I was never what you call impressed. Especially with that Cousin Marlene of his.” I could almost hear the eye-roll. “Impossible to get a word in edgewise around that one.”
It was a lovely irony to hear Piper complaining that someone else talked too much, but I had the feeling she expected me to comment on it, so I didn’t. I didn’t want to give her the slightest shred of satisfaction. I’d answered her call because I felt that I had to, but so far I saw no reason I actually had to talk to her.
Piper let out a huge, dramatic sigh. “Okay, okay. I know you’re mad at me. And I know this had to have been a really hard day for you. First Thanksgiving without your dad and all.”
It was all I could do to maintain my stony silence, and my teeth ground together so hard it made my head ache. But again, there was no need to give her the satisfaction.
“I’m telling you, Becks, you have no idea how much better you’ll feel if you just let it all go. Being out in the night, being part of it … Well, words can’t describe how awesome it is. It would be awesome even if your everyday life was all roses and sunshine, but when your life sucks like it does now…” Another big sigh. “You’re torturing yourself, clinging to the past, for no reason.”
“I’m not torturing myself!” I protested, unable to hold the words back. “You’re the one who’s torturing me.” A sob stole any other words I might have said, and I hated myself for not being able to stay in control.
“I know that’s how it looks from where you stand, Becks,” Piper said, and if I didn’t know better I would have sworn there was a hint of sympathy in her voice. “It’s tough love in the extreme, but I’m really trying to help you. You belong out here. You deserve a life without cares or worries or responsibilities. A life steeped in magic and power and just plain fun. That’s what I want for you, and as far as I can tell, the only way to get it for you is to make it impossible for you to tolerate the day.”
I laughed bitterly. “Yeah, right. You killed my father in a selfless act of charity.”
I could hear Piper’s smile in her voice. “I never
said it was selfless. I love my new life, but I don’t want to give up all my friends to have it. Some of them have to go because they’re not suited to it.”
“Like Luke you mean?” I asked. I remembered she had told me once before that Luke would not be welcome, but I hadn’t thought much about what that might mean.
“Yeah, he’s a no-go. Too much of a goody-goody for this kind of life.”
It was against my better judgment to engage Piper in conversation, but I had to admit I had a lot of questions about the night world and about what had happened to the people who were lost to it. Whether I could trust Piper’s answers or not was a whole other question.
“So what am I, some kind of bad girl?” I asked, genuinely curious why Piper and Aleric seemed to think I was a good candidate to join them.
“It’s not that you’re a bad girl,” Piper said. “It’s just that you have the potential to be one. If you’d been raised by different parents, or maybe even if you’d just gone to a different school, you’d be a very different person right now. You have the makings of a hell-raiser, even if so far you’ve managed to shout all those feelings down.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I argued, but I wasn’t so sure. I’d been on a very different road back in the days when I was in middle school, tormented by my peers, called Becky the Brain by everyone I knew, and reviled for it. My parents had left me in that school for two long years after the bullying began, because they thought sending me to a private school would make them into snobs. I had been so very angry, at the bullies, at the school that couldn’t—or wouldn’t—stop them, and at my parents, who couldn’t see past their personal prejudices to realize keeping me there was a terrible idea.
If I’d stayed at that school, if the world had continued to add more fuel to the anger that had been building inside me …
“Tell yourself it’s ridiculous, if it makes you feel better,” Piper said. “It’s not my fault you don’t like the answer to your question.”