Toward a Secret Sky

by Heather Maclean

  CHAPTER 31

  On the crowded train ride home, we never dared to kiss, but I did rest my head on his shoulder for the entire journey. The gentle rocking of the car, along with the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his chest, almost made me forget we’d been running for our lives just days earlier. Almost.

  When we got back to Aviemore, it was well after midnight. Gavin made noise about taking me right to my grandparents’ house, but I wasn’t having it. I had to see Jo.

  We were in Gavin’s car, pulling up to the hospital. He parked in a dark corner of the parking lot, as far away from the streetlights as possible. A mist rolled over the blacktop, making it look like we were outside a haunted insane asylum rather than a local medical center. The place creeped me out, and I was glad I was with Gavin.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I asked, watching my breath steam up the window. “How are you going to sneak into everyone’s room and get them the antidote? Are you going to put it in their IVs? Do they have to drink it?”

  “No, no, and you’ll see,” he said. “Come on.” He opened his door, and before I could finish unlatching my handle, he was at mine, holding it open for me. I got out and followed him to the back of the car. He popped the trunk, and surprised me by taking off his shirt.

  “Um, hello? What are we doing here?” I asked, trying to avert my eyes from his rippling muscles, but failing and loving it.

  “So many questions,” he admonished. He pulled a light blue shirt from the trunk and put it on. It looked like a service worker’s shirt. A patch over the pocket read “Kingussie Sanatorium.”

  “Where did you get that?” I asked, ignoring his remark about questions, because it was all I had at the moment.

  “Can’t tell you all my secrets,” he said.

  As we walked through the cool mist, Gavin buttoned the shirt over his chest and headed toward the back loading dock. Once we reached the tan, dented door, he whipped an ID card out of his shirt pocket. He swiped it through a little black box, making the light on top turn silently from red to green. He pulled the door open, and stepped back so I could duck under his arm and enter.

  It was dim and dingy, and I was more than happy to let Gavin take my hand and lead me. We walked through a locker room, down a short hall, and turned into an unmarked room. Hot steam blasted from unseen vents, filling the air with a dull clanging, like someone kicking a file cabinet. Gavin flipped a switch and florescent lights flickered to life with a mournful hum. We were in the furnace room.

  Gavin let go of my hand and walked over to a huge, gray metal box. He lifted a plate off the side, exposing glowing coils.

  “What are we doing?” I whispered.

  “I’m going to pour the antidote over the heating element, it’s going to evaporate into a gas, and then get blown through all the vents by the central heating system,” he said, removing a small vial from his pocket.

  “You can inhale an antidote?” I asked.

  “Sure, just like you can inhale poisonous gas. This way, everyone in the hospital will get it at the same time. They should be cured rather quickly.”

  “How quickly?” I said.

  “Within ten minutes, I would think.”

  He poured the entire contents of the vial onto the orange coils. The liquid started to hiss and bubble, but then everything shut down. The room dissolved into a dark silence.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “The worst thing that possibly could,” he answered. “The electricity went out. If we don’t get it turned back on immediately, the antidote will just drip to the bottom of the furnace instead of evaporating, and we’ll lose it.”

  “Is that all we have?” I asked, starting to panic.

  “Yes,” he said. “They’re going to make more at Magnificat once we’re sure this works, but it’s all they gave me to start with.” He stood up. “I need to find the circuit breaker. I can see in the dark, so I can move faster on my own. Can you go wait in Jo’s room?”

  “Yes, of course,” I said, slightly relieved. The bowels of the hospital were scary enough when the lights were on. I had no desire to run around them in total darkness.

  “I’ll take you back to the main hallway, then you can find your way, right?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I remember which room she’s in.”

  He took my hand again and led me out of the service section. Our palms rubbed together as we walked, the soft rhythm driving me to distraction. How could touching him in just one place completely consume my thoughts? We were on a mission to save Jo, and I could barely concentrate on anything but his skin. I had no idea passion could be strong enough to override everything else.

  We emerged into the regular part of the hospital. The halls were dimly illuminated by exit signs at each end, and eerily empty.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked, expecting commotion since the electricity was out.

  “It’s the middle of the night, and this is a very small hospital,” he answered. “There’s probably only one nurse on duty, and she’s likely on the phone with the electric department. Most of the medical machines will have back-up battery systems, but I need to get the furnace back on right away.”

  “Go,” I urged him.

  “Be careful,” he said as he ducked back into the heavy metal doorway. “Go right to Jo’s room. Don’t stop and talk to anyone. We don’t know if the poison has spread to the people who work here.”

  “You just said there’s no one here,” I reminded him. “I’ll be fine. Go!”

  He hesitated, then leaned back out and quickly kissed me on the forehead. Seconds later, he flashed me a smile and disappeared.

  As I walked down the hallway, my shoes squeaked on the stained linoleum floor. The sound was irritating, like nails on a chalkboard. I lifted up onto my tiptoes and hurried. I couldn’t wait to get out of the dark corridor and into Jo’s room.

  I followed the room numbers as they ascended, past 118, 119, 120 . . . Jo was in room 129, so I was headed in the right direction. I rounded a corner and froze. A tall, dark figure of a man with his back to me loomed about twenty feet ahead. I hesitated. Should I try to casually walk past him, or turn around and try to find Gavin? Finding Gavin in the basement in the dark was probably impossible. I would just have to keep walking.

  I clenched my teeth and my fists and started forward. I had figured out how to keep my shoes silent, and I was almost past him when he swung around.

  “Maren!” It was Stuart.

  I relaxed my shoulders. “Geez, Stuart,” I said. “You scared the crap out of me!”

  I couldn’t see him very well in the light, but he looked tired and haggard. Worrying about Jo must have worn him out.

  “What are you doing here?” he growled. I recoiled a little. I’d never heard Stuart use a sharp tone with anyone.

  “I’m here to see Jo,” I stammered.

  He leaned down toward me, and I saw he had thin, bloody scratches on his face. His eyes shone with a faraway look.

  “Stuart? Are you okay?”

  Without a word, he lunged at me. As I writhed to get away, he reached out and clawed at my neck. His fingernails left burning trails on my skin. I ran as fast as I could, but I could hear him right behind me. I wasn’t a fast runner to begin with, and I knew he’d catch up to me in seconds. I had to get out of the hallway.

  I threw myself against a closed door, hoping it wasn’t locked. It swung open, and I darted inside. I pivoted and tried to close and lock the door behind me, but the pneumatic hinges caught it and made it swing super slow. Stuart had plenty of room to force his arm into the opening, and when he did, he thrust the door open. I stumbled backward and crashed into a metal table.

  We were in an operating room. I noticed a tray of surgical instruments to my left. Before I could see anything else, coarse hands curled around my neck.

  Stuart was choking me.

  The pressure on my throat was unbearable. I pulled at his hands, but there was no releasing them. I cou
ldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes watered.

  I reached out with my left hand and fumbled with the tray. I felt clamps and scissors, but when my fingers grazed against a small metal hammer, I knew I had a chance. I grabbed it and smashed it into Stuart’s temple as hard as I could.

  He released his hands from my neck and collapsed.

  I stumbled out of the room, choking and gagging. By the time I reached Jo’s door, I was breathing normally again, but my throat still throbbed. It felt permanently bruised on the inside, and I could still feel the pressure of Stuart’s hands. I felt a stab of panic, thinking maybe he had crushed my windpipe, but reminded myself that I wouldn’t be breathing if that were true.

  As I stepped inside Jo’s room, the lights flickered back on. I heard the whoosh of the vents, and hoped Gavin had restored the power in time to salvage the antidote.

  I plopped down on a scratchy visitor’s chair and waited.

  In less than a minute, Gavin appeared at the door. “What happened to your neck?” he asked. “It’s covered in red marks!”

  I shrugged. “I guess that’s what happens when someone tries to strangle you.”

  “It’s no joke. Your throat’s very delicate, Maren,” Gavin said. His eyes flashed dark and angry.

  “I know,” I said. “Believe me, it freakin’ hurts. But I’m fine now.”

  “Who did this to you?” he demanded.

  “Stuart,” I said, “but it’s okay. I knocked him out. He must have been infected or something. He was crazy.”

  “You knocked him out?” Now he looked impressed.

  I nodded. “We wound up in an operating room, and I managed to hit him with a hammer.”

  Gavin smiled. “That’s my girl.”

  I was proud that I’d fought off Stuart by myself. All six feet of him. I liked proving to Gavin that I wasn’t a damsel in distress. But the relentless death and drama was wearing me down. I longed for my own room, for my own bed, for safety, for a normal life. Could I ever have that with Gavin?

  “He’ll probably sleep longer than the others,” Gavin continued, “but the antidote will still get to him. He’ll be fine.”

  Jo stirred, rustling the bed’s stiff sheets. She opened her eyes and looked around the room. When she saw me, she smiled.

  “Jo!” I said.

  “Hi, Maren,” she answered. “What’s going on? Why am I in the hospital?” Her cheeks were returning to their normal color, and her eyes already looked brighter. The antidote was working!

  “It’s a long story,” I said.

  “Well, start at the beginning,” she commanded. She tried to sit up and realized she was strapped down. Gavin and I quickly undid her restraints. As Gavin bent over one of the buckles, she nodded at him and mouthed “OMG” to me. I shook my head. I had my best friend back.

  We sat with Jo and told her about the party poisoning. I didn’t mention that the disgusting seducer Anders Campbell had allowed a group of jinn demons to infect his party guests . . . In return for what, I didn’t want to know, considering what incubus craved. And I didn’t tell her Gavin was an angel. But the story was shocking enough without any of those details, and I didn’t want to put her in any more danger like I had Hunter.

  At six a.m., when Jo’s mom showed up, Gavin and I left. All of the patients, including Stuart, made miraculous overnight recoveries. The doctors theorized that the toxin that infected everyone had finally just “worn off.”

  Gavin took me home, and then returned to his village. He was going to report in, but he promised to visit me later in the afternoon. The jinn demons’ plot had been defeated, everyone had recovered, and my days as an undercover angel spy were thankfully over.

  As my grandparents started making breakfast, I finally laid my head on my own pillow. I was so exhausted, I didn’t even care if I had a bad dream.

  I should have.

  CHAPTER 32

  I heard the screaming first. And then I saw her—Hunter. And she was covered in blood.

  I burst into the dark and dusty room. The furniture was worn thin, the wallpaper was peeling from the walls, and the smell was overwhelming. I put my hand over my mouth, tried not to vomit.

  Hunter’s face contorted in pain. “Help me! Help me!” she wailed.

  I couldn’t move.

  A round woman wearing an apron rushed past me carrying a knife. It was covered in blood as well. I wondered if she had hurt Hunter, or was somehow trying to fix her.

  A man paced at the foot of the bed. He was tall, blond, and really attractive. He was wearing an old-fashioned suit, like a young Sherlock Holmes. He lunged at Hunter, and I opened my mouth to scream, but she beat me to it.

  A river of blood rolled, bubbling, across the floor. When the rounded edge of dark red hit the tip of my shoe, I passed out. The last thing I heard before everything went black was more screaming. Hunter’s voice was now silent.

  The screaming was from a new baby.

  Bam! Bam! Bam! I heard the pounding in my dream, but I couldn’t wake up.

  Bam! Bam! Bam! I begrudgingly opened my eyes, and realized someone was knocking on my door. My grandmother burst into the room.

  “I’m sorry to wake you, Maren dear. But I just couldn’t wait any longer. It’s after three . . .” She threw my curtains open. Sunlight spilled over my face.

  “It’s after three? Three what?” I mumbled.

  “Three in the afternoon,” she answered. “You’ve been sleeping so soundly, and I know you probably need it after your trip, but . . .” She paused, looking like she’d rather eat nails than continue her sentence.

  “But what?” I asked, pushing the hair out of my face.

  She crossed the room and sat down next to me, putting an arm around my shoulder. I immediately tensed up. Something was wrong.

  “There’s been an accident,” she said.

  “An accident?” I was awake now. “Where? It’s not Grandpa, is it?”

  “No, it’s Jo,” she said. “She fell out of a tree or some such thing. They’re not really sure. Her mum just called.”

  “Oh my gosh, is she okay?” I jumped up and pulled a hoodie over my head so we could rush to see her.

  “She’s dead, Maren.”

  My grandmother’s words pierced me like spears of ice. “What?” I blinked.

  “I’m afraid she’s dead. She broke her neck in the fall. There was nothing they could do.” Gran followed me and tried to hug me again. I wriggled away from her.

  “No, she’s not. She’s fine,” I argued. “I just saw her this morning. She’s perfectly fine.”

  “It’s a terrible shock, I know.”

  “She’s not dead,” I repeated. “She’s not dead.”

  My grandmother finally caught hold of me, and held my hand. “I’m so sorry, Maren.”

  “What do you mean, ‘she fell’? How could she fall? Where was she?”

  “Mrs. Dougall said they didn’t really know. Jo had just gotten out of the hospital, and said she was feeling cooped up, so she went for a little walk to get some fresh air. One of the Crowleys found her lying in their field down the road. She had a small branch in her hand, so they think she must have climbed up a tree to fetch it, and lost her balance.”

  “She wouldn’t have lost her balance,” I said. “She was like a gymnast. She wouldn’t have.”

  “It doesn’t take a very far fall, Maren, if you land wrong. It’s such a shame. She was a lovely girl, and I know how much she meant to you.”

  “Stop talking about her in the past tense!” I screamed. “She isn’t gone! I’m telling you, she’s fine! There must be a mistake!”

  It didn’t make any sense. Why would she climb a tree to get a stupid branch? And the Crowleys’ place? They raised cows. Their land was mostly wide-open meadow. I thought about Jo standing in a meadow surrounded by wildflowers. A shadow overhead. My dream at Magnificat!

  My stomach cramped, forcing me to bend over. I knew Jo hadn’t fallen out of a tree. She’d been droppe
d to her death by a demon. Like my mother. Like the girl from Culloden. But why? Who had done it? Gavin said the killing demons were gone . . .

  I realized that the race to save Jo had nothing to do with her being poisoned. I had dreamed about her falling, I’d been warned, and once again, I’d done nothing about it. I’d gotten back from London in time, but I still hadn’t been able to save her.

  I collapsed on the bed and sobbed until I thought I might die. Hopefully, someone would be able to save me.

  My grandmother was right. Jo was dead. Within the hour, the whole town knew about it. There was no pretending anymore.

  School was cancelled for two days so everyone could attend her service the following day, and then meet with grief counselors.

  My grandfather was gone on a long-planned, two-day golf outing up at St. Andrews—a reunion of his golf team from high school. He called to ask if he should come home, but we told him not to. What was the point? Him missing his trip wasn’t going to make anything better.

  My grandmother kept checking on me. She was worried, because in less than two months I’d lost my mom and my best friend. She wanted to make sure I knew it had nothing to do with me, that it wasn’t my fault, and that these things “just happen.” Assure me I had no reason to feel cursed. Check that I was coping.

  Regardless of what she said, or my conversation about guilt with Gia, I knew it was my fault. It had everything to do with me. I was cursed, and I wasn’t coping.

  I sat on my window seat for hours, numb. I mashed my face against the cool, leaded windowpane and waited. Gavin was supposed to be back by now. Where is he? Can’t he hear my broken heart?

  Then I saw someone walking up the lane toward our house—a guy too fair and slender to be Gavin. He looked up at our house, and I pulled back as if I’d been caught spying.

  It was Graham. Why is he coming here? I hadn’t seen him since he’d saved me from his predator of a cousin, and I was kind of hoping never to run into him again. No one else had seen what he had seen. Images of Anders in the cold, stone fountain house made my head throb.