by Michele Vail
“Skeleton key,” she said. “It’ll open anything.”
She turned the key, and there was a click. I pulled on the handle, and the door opened.
“Cool,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said in a sarcasm-laden voice, “super cool. Just like the 1970s.”
I ignored her snark and helped her through the door. It shut behind us, and we headed across the dark room to the staircase.
“Not enough room for the both of us,” she said.
“You go first. I’ll prop you up if you fall or something.”
Gratitude flashed in her eyes—at least, I thought it did. Then her expression went all snooty, and she started up the stairs. I followed one step behind.
She used the skeleton key again and opened the door at the top. She stepped through it and turned, holding the edge of the door and effectively blocking my exit.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Tell me why you were outside the school.”
“No,” I said.
“Tell me why, Molly.”
“Why were you out there?”
Her lips thinned. “You’re a joke. I’ve been training my whole life to be one of the Chosen, even before I had the Anubis dream. You’re nothing. No one. You think Anubis will choose you because you’re half Briarstock?”
“He’s already chosen me,” I said. “Live with it.” I tried to push through, but she held firm. She was strong, and her face held a mixture of fury and determination. I had a bad feeling she planned to lock me in the basement. Or maybe push me down the stairs.
“You’re not going to be the champion,” she said through bared teeth. “I am.”
I wasn’t going to argue with her. Maybe Anubis had more than one champion. Maybe the Chosen would be a whole new reaper army. I didn’t know. Only Anubis did. And PS? It would be awesome if he would actually convey some decent info. Wandering around here trying to figure things out on my own wasn’t exactly working out.
“Fine,” I said. “You’ll be champion.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not my competition.”
Actually, I was. And I really wanted to kick her butt. “Let me through, Clarissa.”
“No.”
She shut the door in my face and locked it.
Even though I’d been sorta expecting her to do that, I still felt some shock. Wow. What. A. Bitch.
It was pitch-black down here, except for the pale line of light that shone underneath the heavy wooden door. I was back to the same choices as before: text my friends for help or call for Henry.
Awesome.
I leaned my head against the door and tried to think about the best option. If I called for Henry, he could potentially rat me out. If I called on my friends...well, that would be way too much explaining. They didn’t know I was a reaper. Or at least one in training. Or a Briarstock. Or a big, fat liar.
I heard a noise, and before I could decide if I should shoot down the stairs and hide, or risk that some staff member was about to discover me...the door swung open.
I looked at the person staring at me, and launched myself forward.
“Rick!” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “How’d you know where to find me?”
“I saw that girl lock you in. Why’d she do that?”
“She’s a jerk,” I said. I pulled back, and the smile on my face faded. “What happened to you?”
He looked exhausted. And pale. And his eyes were red, as if he’d been crying. His clothing was messed up, and he had a scratch on his cheek.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he said. “Just got into a fight with a tree. Had to park down this hill and walk up.” He smiled wearily. “I’m kinda tired, Mol.”
“Let’s go to my room. I’ll fix up that scratch, and you can tell me what happened.”
Rick put his arm around me and leaned on me. I forgot about everything, even stupid Clarissa. Being with Rick made me so happy. And he was always showing up at the right time. Sorta. “Did you go to Autumn’s get-together anyway?” I asked.
“Nah. I was already on the way when I got your text, so I just waited for you.”
“How’d you get into the school?” We reached my room and I pulled the key out of my back pocket.
“I’ve got my ways,” he said, offering me one of those awesome twisty grins. Then he leaned forward to kiss me. My heart skipped a beat, and I met his lips.
He opened his mouth, and...ohmygod.
His breath was rank. Not I-just-ate-an-onion-sandwich...more like I-ate-roadkill stank.
I drew back.
His gaze was all dreamy, and I appreciated him looking at me like that, I really did. But I couldn’t force myself to kiss him unless he brushed his teeth. And maybe flossed.
“Let’s go inside,” I said.
“What’s wrong?” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You seem upset.”
“Not at all,” I said. Worried that he might try to kiss me again, I pushed open the door, and he followed me inside.
“Sit on the bench,” I directed. “I’ll get medicine for that scratch.”
He did as I said, and I went into the bathroom and started searching the cabinets for antibiotic.
So, how could I suggest that Rick might benefit from a good tooth scrubbing? I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but there was no way I could kiss him again. Maybe I could offer to brush my teeth, and then say, “Hey, I’ve got an extra toothbrush, if you want brush yours, too.” Then it wasn’t so insulting. Probably.
Except I didn’t have an extra toothbrush.
I opened a drawer and looked down. It was full of toothbrushes. Okay, delete previous thought. I had enough toothbrushes to last me for the next five years.
I found a tube of antibiotic and a box of bandages. They were sparkly pink, though, so I wasn’t sure if Rick would be down with wearing one.
He sat on the bench, staring straight ahead. I sat next to him, and he slowly turned his head, as though it were too heavy to move. His eyes were even redder, and the wound on his cheek seemed worse.
“Man,” I said. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Little dizzy,” he said. “I...I didn’t eat.”
“Oh. Well, I’ve got snacks here. Even got a little fridge with Cokes and stuff.”
“Not what I need, Mol. Thanks.”
His hands were shaking, and his behavior was starting to scare me.
“Stay still.” I swiped some gel on the wound, and when I pulled my finger away, I could see flakes of his skin stuck to my fingertip. Ew. What was going on with him? “Do you mind?” I held up the glittery bandage.
“Nah.”
I put it over the wound lengthwise. It didn’t really cover it, and it didn’t seem to help much in staunching the ooze factor.
“Hey, Molly?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t feel—”
Rick slumped over, his weight bearing him to the floor.
Holy Anubis! My boyfriend had fainted.
Panic welled. I squatted next to him and patted his non-injured cheek. Then I leaned close. He was still breathing, but in a shallow, pant-y way. I didn’t know what to do. Call Henry, risk exposure among the administration. Call my friends, risk their ire about my lying. Maybe even lose them.
Rick moaned, a sound full of pain, and I made my decision.
I flipped open the phone and texted the crew: 911. Briarstock dorm.
Chapter 18
“You used me, abused me,
Made me want, made me cry,
And now, you arrogant prick,
I want you to die.”
~Kamina singing, “Die, Boyfriend, Die”
Autumn showed up first. With all her ghosts, of course. They floated into the room and dispersed, apparently fascinated with my dorm. Rennie wasn’t among them, and I wondered if he was still in druggie land. I didn’t want to admit I was worried about a dead guy, but...well, I guess I was.
But right
now I had the living to worry about.
Autumn wore a long purple nightgown and purple bunny slippers. “Oh, my,” she said as she came inside and spied Rick. “What happened?”
As she got a look at my room, her eyes popped. “Sweet tea and Anubis!”
“So reap,” said Barbie from the doorway. Behind her were Daniel and Trina. Daniel was wearing his trademark mirrored sunglasses, and Trina was in pink silk pajamas. Barbie was wearing something that looked like a black sack cloth.
They entered, and behind them, a zombie dressed in jeans, a T-shirt that said Have You Seen My Zombie? and sneakers. His hair was combed, and he had a beard. And glasses.
“’Bout time you invited us to the pad,” said Barbie. Her gaze dropped to Rick. “Different circumstances would’ve been appreciated.” She saw the direction of my gaze. “Oh. This is my zombie, Jon Lemons.”
“Call him Jon,” said Trina with an ornery grin. “Or Jonny.”
The zombie opened his mouth and offered an irritated, “Uuuuuh.”
“He hates that,” admitted Barbie. “You have to call him Jon Lemons.”
Everyone was silent for a moment as they took in the room, the prone boyfriend, and me.
“I guess I should admit that I’m Cynthia Briarstock’s daughter,” I said lamely.
“Oh, we knew that,” said Trina. “We were waitin’ for you to tell us.”
“You knew?”
“Yeah. After Henry made a beeline to our lunch table and you seemed to absorb all that info about Cynthia...I had the school system hacked ten seconds after lunch,” said Barbie. “We were waiting for you to decide to tell us. Sorry we bashed your mom.”
“And I do apologize for being such a Negative Nelly about legacies,” said Autumn.
“Thanks,” said Daniel in a dry tone. “We appreciate it.”
Autumn rolled her eyes. “You know we don’t think about you being a legacy. You don’t act like one.”
“Neither does Molly,” said Barbie.
I noticed that her arms were bandaged, thin red lines of blood marring the white.
“Don’t ask,” said Autumn in a low voice. She was standing on my left. “It’s a touchy subject for all of us.”
“What happened to boyfriend?” asked Trina.
Everyone gathered around Rick. I was still reeling from the info that my new friends knew about my so-called secret and had just been waiting for me to admit that I was a Briarstock. They didn’t seem to care that I was a legacy after all.
“He passed out,” I said. “He said that he was hungry. He looks like someone beat him up, but he said he ran into a tree.” I was babbling, letting my fear override me now that I had backup.
“Tree, my ass,” said Barbie. She looked at me. “What’s the plan?”
“I have no plan,” I said. My knees were starting to give out. Autumn grasped my arm and led me to the bench seat.
“Stick your head between your knees and breathe,” she directed. “Where’s your boyfriend from? Vegas, right?”
“Yeah,” I managed. I did as Autumn directed and sucked in some steadying breaths. Some freaking reaper I was turning out to be. I was feeling strange with my semi-Yoga pose, so I sat up. Blood rushed to my head, and I got dizzy. Ugh. Perfect.
“Trina,” said Autumn as she held on to my shoulder. “I think we should take him to Vegas.”
“White girl say what?” said Trina.
“You have a plane,” she pointed out. “And a very cooperative pilot.”
“And a father who doesn’t pay attention to anything you do,” added Barbie.
Trina put her hands on her hips. “All true,” she said. “But we have to get him to the private airport. How are we gonna do that?”
They all looked at me, and I said, “I don’t even have my license yet. And I don’t have transpo.”
“You’ll have to use Henry,” said Daniel.
“But what if he gets caught?” I asked. “Will he get in trouble?”
“No,” said Barbie. “You’ll get in trouble.”
“He can’t lie,” I said, repeating what Clarissa told me.
“Not if he’s asked questions by Nekyia staff,” confirmed Autumn. “So we just make sure he doesn’t get caught.”
“If I ask him to do this,” I said, “then I’ll do it alone. I don’t want you guys here, in case he’s forced to confess.”
They all looked at each other, and I detected their relief. I figured they were glad they didn’t have to explain why they wanted to bail. I guess we hadn’t quite reached the “one for all, and all for one” mentality as friends quite yet. I was a little disappointed, but I totally got it. I didn’t exactly want to get in trouble, either. But this was Rick, and he was worth it.
“What about you, Trina?” I asked. “It’s your plane.”
“No big,” she said. “I’ll just say you asked to use it, and I didn’t know why.”
“They are sooooo used to that excuse,” said Barbie. “They’ll buy it, too. Trina M.O. Plausible deniability, it’s what all the politicians use.”
“Don’t worry,” said Trina. “I’ll make sure a limo is there to get him all the way home.”
“That’s awesome, Trina. Thanks,” I said. “Thanks, everyone.”
“No prob,” said Barbie. “And next time we do movie night, you don’t lie to spend time with boyfriend in your rad room.”
I didn’t correct her notion because I couldn’t begin to explain the bizarre night I’d had with Ms. Chiles. “Next twenty movie nights are here,” I said. “If this all works out and no one finds out about Operation Rick and I don’t get kicked out of school.”
“It’ll be fine,” said Autumn. She was being nice, but I heard the doubt in her voice.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Let’s roll,” said Trina. “I need something cheesy and laden in fat to sooth my nerves.”
Everyone waved goodbye, even the zombie, and left. I gave them a few extra minutes to get as far away from the dorm as possible. Then I said, “Henry.”
He appeared in the blink of an eye. Just one minute not there, and the next...totally there.
“Okay. Weirdness,” I said.
“If you say so, miss.” His gaze took in Rick. “Is your young man all right?”
“Not really. I have to ask you for a mondo favor, Henry. Like big time.”
“I serve the Briarstocks.”
“Trina Molina is authorizing her plane to take Rick to Vegas. And a limo to get him home. I need you to take him to the airport.”
“As you wish.”
“Wait. Just that easy?”
Henry nodded. “It is my duty to serve you, Miss Briarstock. If taking this young man to the airport is what you need, then I shall do so.”
“Thank you, Henry!” I enveloped him in a hug. He stiffly offered one back. When I pulled away, he looked at me and I saw him smile slightly.
“You really do remind me of Miss Lelia,” he said. “I very much liked her.”
“I think I would have, too,” I said.
He nodded. “It’s best that you get ready for bed now, Miss Briarstock. I will take care of everything.”
“You’re the best, Henry.” I went into the bathroom and shut the door. I felt like a coward for letting my ghoul handle the situation, but I didn’t know what else to do.
Later, when I came out of the bathroom from taking a shower and brushing my teeth, the room was empty.
I crawled into bed, but I didn’t fall asleep for a long time.
* * *
The next morning, Henry confirmed that Rick had been delivered to his home. Rick didn’t respond to any of my texts, and when I called his parents’ house to check on him, nobody answered.
I almost called Ally to see if she’d walk to his house and see what was up, but I decided to chill. Plus, the last time I’d talked to Ally, she sounded super distracted and still annoyed that I was avoiding Dad. Dad kept leaving me voice mails that were supportive and nice, which ju
st made me feel worse about not talking to him. Almost as bad as I felt not hearing from Rick.
Rick would text me when he was feeling better.
But I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I just wanted to hear that he was okay. Maybe then, I could breathe again.
I texted Gena and Becks to see how they were doing, and then, because I couldn’t help myself, I asked if they’d seen Rick.
Not at school. Heard he had flu, texted Becks. Think he’s grounded for eternity re: Reno?
Broken heart is more like it, responded Gena. He likes you. Went. To. Reno. ‘Nuff said.
Wasn’t feeling well when he left here, I texted back. Probably the start of the flu. Thanks, peeps. TTFN.
It seemed all was as well as could be hoped. So why did I feel like I’d missed something of major importance? I wouldn’t feel better until I heard from Rick directly.
* * *
It was agreed, via a round of texting with my Nekyia friends, that I should keep myself busy and not think about Rick. I went to my classes, kept my head down and waited for someone to discover that I’d spirited away a non-student and totally used my ghoul and my friends to do it.
I felt awful for most of the day.
When I went to independent study, no one was there. Not a soul. I waited ten minutes for Rath to show up. At that point I wouldn’t have minded if he gave me crap about how much of a brat I was. Maybe even kicked my butt a little. I even missed Irina.
I waited another five minutes. No one ever showed, so I headed to Ms. Chiles’s office. She didn’t answer my knock on the door, and I really didn’t know who else to talk to about independent study, especially since Ms. Chiles had made it clear it wasn’t supposed to be discussed with anyone. So, I bailed.
I figured the best way to spend my unexpected free time was to seek out the special archives in the library. I’d been once or twice to the main floor to look up stuff for my classes. Necro profs loved to give homework. I was kinda glad it was Friday, so I could get some breathing space.
Getting to the special archives meant going two floors down into the dark, small part of the library. The librarian, an older lady with Miss Neff emblazoned on her gold name badge, didn’t question my entry into the gated area. She merely opened it up and gestured for me to go inside.