Impostor A Variants Novel

by Susanne Winnacker

  Alec dragged me through the crowd of dancing bodies to where Ana sat on a couch with her date, Jason. I’d barely spoken to him before, but I knew he belonged to the same group of friends Devon always hung out with.

  There was room for one more person on the couch. Alec let go of my hand and nodded toward the open spot.

  “You can sit on his lap!” Ana suggested, the way she slurred the S making it clear that the beer in her hand wasn’t her first.

  I looked at Alec and time began to stretch. Ana and Jason were staring up at us, not drunk enough to miss the strange tension in the air. Suddenly Alec grinned and in one fluid move scooped me up and settled me on his lap. Heat surged through my body at the feel of him so close. Our kiss from a few days ago flashed in my mind and all I wanted was to repeat it.

  “When did this thing start? It looks like the party’s been going on for hours,” I said.

  Ana took another gulp from her cup. “Nah, not so long ago. Most people were already drunk when they got here.” She stood, surprisingly not yet swaying. “Bathroom” she mouthed before she disappeared from my view.

  Alec and Jason began talking about the upcoming football game while I tried to focus on observing the other guests. But it was incredibly difficult with Alec’s legs pressed against my butt, his chest warm against my back.

  Ryan sat in one of the lawn chairs with Chloe, shoving his tongue down her throat. He pulled away and looked at me as if he could feel my eyes on him. My skin flushed after being caught staring and I quickly looked away.

  A cup materialized in front of my face, startling me half to death. I rammed my elbow into Alec’s stomach. Of course, it hadn’t hurt him but I apologized anyway. I took the cup from Ana’s outstretched hand. A sniff revealed it as beer.

  “Since your date is too busy to take care of you, I’ll do his job,” she said with a grin.

  I raised the cup to my lips. Alec put his hand on my thigh, squeezing. It was a warning, but my body interpreted it in a very different way. Alec’s eyes locked on mine. I tipped the cup back and took a gulp, still holding his gaze. It wasn’t much, but the taste was enough to make me shudder.

  Alec’s lips tightened. The angry glint in his eyes made me want him even more. Why was it that I was unable to resist him, no matter how often he pushed me away?

  I took another swallow. Alec squeezed my thigh again and leaned in close, his lips against my ear. “That’s a bad idea.” His hot breath against my skin, his hand on my thigh, his chest pressed against my chest. His smell. His warmth. It was all too much.

  I put the cup on the table beside the couch. My hands moved to Alec’s shoulders, my eyes dropped to his mouth, and I leaned in for a kiss. I could feel his breath on my lips, could feel my heart slamming against my rib cage, my stomach tightening in anticipation, until he turned his head away and my lips grazed his cheek.

  It felt as though the air had been sucked from my body. I stumbled to my feet, knocking the cup of beer off the table. Alec’s eyes looked alarmed but there was something else in them, something much worse. Pity.

  I entered the kitchen, where two boys were mixing vodka and juice in a huge plastic bowl. Their words and laughter warped in my head and eventually became lost in the rest of the buzz. I opened the fridge. It was filled to the brim with beer. I grabbed a bottle, opened it, and began to guzzle it down. After the first few gulps the taste became bearable, but the alcohol did nothing to correct the abyss that had opened up in my stomach.

  Ana leaned against the counter beside me. She didn’t seem that drunk anymore. “Do you want to talk?”

  “No. I want to forget,” I said.

  “He’s stupid if he doesn’t want you. There are plenty of other guys who’d jump at the chance to make out with you.” She wrapped her arm around me and I leaned against her.

  The stench of puke wafted through the open window. Someone must’ve thrown up in the garden.

  Ana handed me a cup with the fruity mixed drink. “Here, take this. It’s good.”

  Surprisingly it tasted better than the beer, if a bit too much like cough medicine. But after the first swallow, I stopped. Being angry with Alec was one thing but I couldn’t risk losing control. What if my Variation stopped working once I was drunk?

  Ana waved her hand in front of my face. “Hello? Did you hear me?”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “I said it looks like your brother’s getting lucky tonight.” She pointed at the stairs.

  Devon and Francesca ascended the staircase, their arms wrapped around each other. One of Francesca’s hands rested in Devon’s back jeans pocket. It made me want to gag. They disappeared from my view, on their way to do God-only-knows what. At least the party hostess was having fun. The way my life was going, it’d never be my turn to get lucky.

  I took another gulp of the fruity vodka mix. It left a trail of heat in my throat that spread all the way down to my stomach.

  Ana glanced toward the living room, where Jason stood waiting for her in the doorway.

  “It’s okay if you go to him, you know,” I said.

  She looked conflicted but after an encouraging smile from me, she dashed off, leaving me alone with my drink.

  Seizing the moment, Ryan strode into the kitchen and propped himself up on the counter. He sipped his beer, never taking his eyes off me. “So, are you and that Alec guy together, or what?”

  “No. I mean, not really.”

  Ryan leaned closer until our shoulders were touching. “I’m sorry about the other day,” he said. “But when I see you, I can’t think straight.”

  “We broke up months ago.”

  His face tightened. “I know. And I hated every minute of it. I can’t stand the thought of seeing you with another guy. I want you back, Maddy. I want a fresh start.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible. We both need to move on.”

  “But I can’t!” Frustration flashed in his eyes. “Don’t you get it? I don’t think I can ever feel the same way about anyone.” He grabbed my hand but Alec was on his way into the kitchen. Ryan glared at him before storming out of the room.

  “What did he want?”

  “The usual.”

  “Is that vodka you’re drinking?” Alec crossed his arms with disapproval.

  He took the cup out of my hand and sniffed. His lips twisted. “Vodka,” he said, as if he was addressing a small child.

  “Stop patronizing me. I’m not a baby.”

  “You shouldn’t be drinking.”

  I stared pointedly at the cup in his other hand. He was giving me a lecture? “You’re not allowed to drink either, but you are.”

  “No, I’m not. I dumped my beer and refilled it with apple juice because I want to stay lucid. I pretend to drink because I want to do my job of fitting in. You still realize that this is a job, right? Sometimes I think you forget that.”

  Even though he didn’t say it outright, I knew he was also referring to the incident in the living room.

  “You sound like Major.” I pushed past him. “I’m off to pretend to have fun. Sometimes I think you’ve forgotten what ‘fun’ means.”

  I pushed past him and into the throng of people grinding against each other in various stages of drunkenness. I spotted Ana, her body entwined with Jason’s, their lips locked as they rocked back and forth to the music. Ryan wasn’t in the living room. He probably needed time to cool off.

  Someone tapped me on the shoulder and a scowl immediately blossomed on my face. It was Phil. Had Francesca actually invited him or was he a party crasher? He pushed his hands into his pockets and looked at his feet. “Hey. Do you want to dance?”

  My eyes darted over the crowd, looking for Alec. What would he say if I danced with someone else? The bass was working its way through my body along with the vodka. A haze spread in my head. Phil took a step back, embarrassment crossing his face. “Never mind. Forget it. I shouldn’t have asked.” He turned to leave, but I gripped his arm, only to s
hy back as a strange sensation prickled in my fingertips. Our gazes locked and his eyes grew wide. We stood too close but I was unable to move.

  “Leave her alone.” A tall shape appeared in front of me, causing Phil to stagger a few steps back. Alec. I took a step forward to stop him. Shock rendered on Phil’s face, but for a moment it looked like he considered fighting back. “Go,” I said. He hesitated, the flush spreading further on his cheeks before he stormed away.

  “What the hell was that? Why were you looking at him like that?” Alec hissed.

  “He asked me to dance.” I didn’t mention the strange sensation I’d felt when I’d touched Phil.

  “Dance?” His mouth twisted. “He was looking at you like he wanted to devour you.”

  Was Alec really jealous of Phil? “So what, Alec? Why do you even care? You’ve made it very clear that you don’t give a shit about me.”

  I pushed past him and fought my way through the masses and over to the stairs. Thankfully the bathroom wasn’t occupied. I shut the door behind me and slumped against it. Thinking about Alec made my head hurt. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

  I splashed some water on my face and looked up at my reflection through the water droplets clinging to my lashes. Dark blond lashes, dark blond hair, and blue eyes. I realized I wasn’t even surprised to see that face anymore. It had become a part of me, the same way Madison’s parents, her quirky uncle, and her best friend had all become my world.

  Outside the narrow bathroom window, something caught my attention and I stopped to get a better look outside. The lights streaming out of the house illuminated only half of the vast backyard. A figure was making his way across the lawn, and in the last few moments before the figure was swallowed by darkness, I could make out who it was: Devon.

  What was he doing out there?

  I’d thought he was in Francesca’s room, having fun. I checked my watch. It had been an hour since I’d seen him come upstairs with her. They were probably long finished with whatever they’d done.

  Suddenly, screams ripped through the constant boom of the music, through the drunken laughter and singing. They multiplied, mingled, rose in volume. It was clear that they weren’t shouts of glee; they were cries of terror. I flung open the door and dashed down the stairs, then out of the house and into the garden where the noise was coming from. More and more people were gathering in the backyard.

  Alec appeared at my side.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said slowly. He stretched to get a look over the heads of the other guests who hustled around us. But my eyes dropped to the ground, where a fine trail of mist curled around my ankles.

  The feeling left my legs.

  A sudden hush fell over the crowd.

  “Is she dead?”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She’s not moving.” The whispers carried over to us and then the sobbing began.

  There was a figure lying on the grass. She was completely still. And I knew without a doubt that this wasn’t a person who’d passed out from one too many drinks.

  The killer had been here. He’d found his next victim.

  CHAPTER 19

  * * *

  Another murder. Right under our very noses.

  “Oh God,” someone whispered. “She’s dead.”

  Alec pushed past the growing mass of spectators. My body bristled at the thought of getting any closer, but I followed. We fought our way to the middle of the circle that had formed around the body. Alec crouched beside the body and I stopped short behind him. He pressed two fingers against her throat, searching for a pulse. That’s when I saw her face. It was Francesca. Killed in her own home.

  A wire curled around her neck. Blood trailed down her throat, trickling to her bra. Her shirt had been torn and an A had been cut into the skin above her rib cage. Hints of dewdrops and white frost dotted her clothes—the remnants of fog.

  Francesca’s face was turned toward me, a cold and hollow look in her lifeless eyes. They were accusing. If I’d worked harder, maybe then she’d be alive.

  I turned away, lost in the whirlwind of voices around me. I pushed my way through the crowd, elbows rammed into my sides, shoulders against my back. In the distance I could hear the sound of sirens.

  I made it a few steps away from the other guests, to the part of the yard that lay shrouded in darkness, and leaned against an old tree, the rough bark pressing into my forehead. Devon had disappeared into the unlit part of the backyard just moments before the screams had started. He’d been outside when Francesca had been killed, and he’d been the last person I’d seen with her.

  “It’s not your fault. You’re doing your best. We all are.”

  I jumped at the sound of Alec’s voice. Couldn’t he leave me alone for one effing moment?

  “Oh, so that’s what you think now? You sounded really different there in the kitchen.”

  He raised his hands. “Whoa. Calm down.” He lowered his voice. “I’m just worried about you.”

  A police car and an ambulance pulled up at the curb and Alec turned to watch them. I used the moment to slip away; I couldn’t stand to be around him right now.

  I turned back toward the house. The police officers and the paramedics ran straight to the backyard, where Francesca was pronounced dead.

  Ana stood on the front porch, her face blotchy and her eyes red-rimmed. She stumbled toward me. I wasn’t sure if her wobbly gait was due to alcohol or shock. She bumped into me, nearly knocking me over. I hugged her and she slumped against me. My own legs felt like they might give way.

  “Oh god, Maddy, did you see her? He was here! He killed her. Killed her.” Her words came out jumbled and mingled with sobs.

  I pulled away, my eyes searching the throngs of people on the porch and in the doorway. There wasn’t a sign of Devon anywhere. I doubted he had returned but maybe someone had seen him moments before the murder.

  “Have you seen Devon?”

  Ana rubbed her eyes. “No. Haven’t seen him in a while. Why? Do you think he’s safe?”

  No, I thought. He just might be the killer.

  I kissed her cheek. “I just want him to take me home. I’ll go try to find him. Do you have a ride home?”

  “My stepfather’s taking me.” She nodded toward one of the police cars. Right. I’d forgotten that he was a police officer.

  “Be careful,” I warned before I made my way through the crowd that had gathered on the porch. The inside of the house was a mess. Empty beer bottles, broken glass, spilled alcohol, and crumbled chips littered the floor. The rug squished under my feet from all the beer that had been spilled on it. I carefully climbed to the stairs, only to discover that nobody was on the second floor. I peeked into a few rooms until I found Francesca’s. Not surprisingly, the blankets were ruffled as if someone had been sleeping in them—or doing other things. Why had Devon brought her up here to make out—in front of everyone—if his plan was to kill her afterward? It was reckless. But killers didn’t always act reasonably.

  Francesca’s window overlooked the backyard—now the murder scene. Police officers, paramedics, and Sheriff Ruthledge were gathered around the body. Alec and Major, dressed as a civilian, hovered a few steps away. The party guests had been pushed to the edges of the yard, but many of them still watched the scene like it was a crime show on TV.

  The hinges groaned and I whirled around, almost losing my footing. Ryan stood in the doorway. Anxiety crawled up my spine. I shouldn’t have gone upstairs on my own.

  “What are you doing here?” My voice came out hard.

  “Calm down, okay? I saw you go upstairs and just wanted to check on you. What are you doing here?”

  “None of your business.” I crossed the room, wanting to squeeze past him, but his arm shot out, blocking my escape.

  I balled my fists. “Get out of my way.” The collar of his shirt shifted, revealing a series of small bruises on his left shoulder. He followed my g
aze, and red blotches blossomed on his cheeks. He pulled up his collar. “You know how hot-tempered my father gets. . . .” He trailed off. But my eyes were no longer on his bruises. There was blood on his right hand. “I cut myself,” he said quickly, and turned his hand around to show me the gash in his palm.

  “How did that happen?” I asked.

  “Broken beer bottle. What? Do you think—” he stopped as we heard the sound of steps pounding up the stairs. He dropped his arm, making room for me to leave. I hesitated. The cut didn’t look like a bottle had done it.

  “Madison?” Alec called, and it took me a moment to realize he was talking to me. I ran out of the room and found Alec halfway up the steps. “Where have you been? I was looking for you,” he said. His eyes narrowed when they landed on Ryan, lingering in the hall, his hands in his pockets.

  I needed to get outside, to go somewhere I could breathe. Alec followed me but waited until we were out of earshot of the crowd before he began talking. “You have to be more careful, Tess. Being alone with Ryan isn’t the best idea.”

  I paused to glower at him. “He followed me upstairs. I didn’t invite him.”

  Alec ignored my snide tone. “You’re already in enough danger with Devon around, but as long as we don’t know for sure that he’s the murderer, you should avoid being alone with guys. All of them.”

  “You’re a guy.”

  “Tess, I’m serious,” he said with a hint of exasperation.

  “Are you done with your lecture now? I’m not stupid. I can handle this myself.” And I realized it was true. I could handle this. I didn’t need Alec or anyone else. I’d played Madison for weeks now without anyone growing suspicious, I’d faced Ryan and Yates and kept them in check, and I’d figured out the fog connection. I could do this.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

  “Just drop it, okay?” I said. “I think Ryan is the killer.”

  Alec frowned. “Why? What happened?”

  “I just noticed a cut on his palm. It looked like it was caused by a wire. I think he cut himself when he strangled Francesca.”