“What the hell are you two talking about?” Suddenly my eyes filled up with tears and I sat back down again with a thump.
“Um. I’ll be upstairs,” Josh said nervously. “Clearing out the party guests.”
“I’ll be with him,” Mason said. The two hurried up the stairs.
I spoke without looking up from the carpet. “What is going on around here? I feel like I’ve only got half the story. And if I’m going to . . . if you’re going to . . .” I could hear my voice start to crack and I couldn’t stop it. “If you’re going to use me as a lure, as bait when you go demon fishing, then. . . .” I began sobbing and couldn’t quit. But I was determined to finish my sentence, so I sobbed in between words, “you had better . . . tell me . . . exactly . . . what’s going . . . on!” The sentence ended on a wail, just as Josh called down the stairs.
“All clear, Dad!” he said.
* * *
Upstairs, the dawn light was filtering in through the living-room blinds. I sat on the couch, occasionally sniffling into an actual cloth kerchief—the cowboy kind, a red background with black paisley thingies on it—that Mr. Bevington had brought me from his room. I still clutched the iron spike in my other hand.
The remains of the party lay strewn about the room: empty beer cans, a half-full bottle of cheap rum, a cigarette smashed into the carpet and surrounded by a black burn mark. Mr. Bevington winced when he saw that. Guess that’s what you get for planning a party to lure me in to be your bait, I thought. But I kept the thought to myself. I was getting a little better at that. Fairy, Texas was not the place to share your secrets. Bad enough I had cried in front of them. I was going to keep my cool, I promised myself.
“So where should we start?” Josh asked. He was sitting on the coffee table directly in front of me. He leaned forward and stared earnestly into my eyes.
I looked away from him. “How about with the truth, for once?”
“I told you the truth.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw him shoot a pleading glance toward his father. “At least, as much of it as I could.”
Mr. Bevington leaned toward me as well, though he was seated in another chair across the room. “It was important for your own safety,” he said.
“And that worked out so well.” This time I did let the sarcasm out. So much for keeping my cool. At least Mr. Bevington had the good grace to look abashed.
“They meant well,” Mason said quietly. He was perched on the far arm of the couch.
I spun to face him. “Don’t pretend you’re all on my side in this, Mason Collier,” I said. “You were all in on it. I’m mad at all of you.”
Mason blushed but didn’t say anything else.
“So?” I demanded, turning to Josh’s father.
“What else do you want to know?” he asked.
“Everything.”
Josh stifled a yawn. “Can it wait until we’ve had some sleep?”
“No! If you think I’ll be able to sleep, you’re crazy. And you’re beginning to make me feel crazy, too!”
“Okay, okay,” Josh said. “You asked for it. Dad? You tell her.”
Mr. Bevington studied me for a long, silent moment. “Josh told you about the Dumaya?” he finally asked.
“Yeah. Some sort of demon-savior, and I’m supposed to ‘bear’ him.”
“Right.” He looked down at his hands, then back up at my face. “So what do you imagine this ‘demon-savior’ might do?”
“Do?”
“Yes. Do. If he’s a savior, what’s he supposed to save us from? And how?”
I shook my head, confused. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Of course you haven’t,” Mr. Bevington murmured. He pressed his fingertips into his eyes. “Would you like to take a guess?”
“Not really.” I glared at him. “I’d rather you just told me.”
“You.”
“Me?” I looked at Josh and Mason, hoping for some help, but they were both busy looking elsewhere.
“Yes. He’s supposed to save us from you.”
“But how am I a threat?”
“Not you specifically, not as an individual. You as in humanity. You. Not us.”
“The Dumaya is supposed to save you from us?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Mr. Bevington’s expression was bleak. “By killing you all.”
* * *
I was still staring at Mr. Bevington in open-mouthed horror when the doorbell rang. He pushed himself up out of his seat and went to answer it. He greeted whoever was there and stepped out into the early morning sunshine. When the door opened again, it was John, pushing past Josh’s father.
“You!” he said, pointing a shaking finger in my direction. He spluttered, unable to find words vile enough. His face started turning purple. He leaned over and reached out to grab my arm, but Josh’s father intercepted him.
“Hey, Boss,” he said, pulling John around to face him. “You okay?”
As I watched, Mr. Bevington’s entire body began glowing gently, like Josh’s had in the darkroom. Like mine had.
John tried to turn back around toward me, but he seemed unable to pull his gaze away from Zachary Bevington’s face.
“I thought your father didn’t have the Power,” I whispered to Josh.
“He doesn’t have much,” Josh amended.
But he had enough to get John to go home, to forget he’d ever even missed me that morning. I have to admit, I was impressed.
“Great,” Mason muttered. “Josh and I come in and save you, then I fly you home, and you’re impressed by a little memory wipe.”
“Okay,” Josh’s father said, shutting the door and turning to face us. “Where were we?”
Now I was staring in open-mouthed admiration.
“Wiping out all of humanity,” Josh said drily.
My mouth snapped closed.
“Right,” Mr. Bevington said. “That.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’m supposed to have this Dumaya, who is then supposed to kill off all the humans.”
“Right,” Josh said, nodding.
“So how does what happened tonight”—I glanced at the sunshine streaming in through the window—“fit into that plan?” I looked back and forth between the two boys. “If you two are supposed to be fighting over me, then why would Biet bring Eddie and his gang into it?”
All three of them grew very still.
“What?” I asked, confused. “What did I say?”
“Biet?” Mr. Bevington asked quietly. “Hazel Biet was there?”
“Yes,” I said. “She came in and held her hand over my stomach.” I clutched the spot that had grown so cold and shivered in memory. “And then she said something like ‘Nuh Dumaya’ and told those guys they could have me.”
“Think very carefully,” Mr. Bevington said, sinking down onto the coffee table next to Josh. “Did what she say sound more like ‘noy Dumaya’ or ‘nay Dumaya’?”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure. Is it that important?”
He inhaled deeply and then let the air out of his lungs slowly. “Very,” he finally said. “It could be the difference between life and death.”
Because what this moment needed was more melodrama. Obviously.
“Whose life and death?” I demanded. “As you’ve so kindly pointed out, the whole issue here is life-and-death for humans. All humans.”
“This one is just you,” Josh said. His eyes were huge in his suddenly too-pale face. He turned to his father. “Do you think this means that Biet is working against Bartlef?”
Mr. Bevington shook his head. “I doubt it. Those two always work together.” He didn’t sound convinced, though.
“Enough with the cryptic,” I said. “Tell me what’s going on.”
The three of them looked at each other.
“Now,” I said.
Mr. Bevington sighed. “There are two possible translations of what Hazel said. Unfortunately, they’re almost directly opposed to
one another. If she said ‘noy Dumaya,’ then it means she thinks that you’re not the Yatah and didn’t care what those boys did to you. If she said ‘nay Dumaya,’ then she believes you are the Yatah and she was hoping her boys would help complete the prophecy.”
The cold spot in my abdomen ached. “So why would she try to freeze me?” I asked.
Mr. Bevington shook his head. “I’m not entirely certain. I don’t have the same Power that she does, so my training isn’t as advanced. And I’ve never been much of a scholar—never needed to be, until recently—so I’ve never come across anything like it.” He looked and Josh and Mason. “You two?”
They both shook their heads.
“I could ask Oma Raina,” Mason suggested tentatively.
Mr. Bevington shook his head. “No,” he said sharply. “If you ask her and she’s in on it, she’ll figure out who killed those boys tonight. And if she’s not in on it, she might ask the wrong questions. . .”
“And figure out who killed those guys tonight,” Josh finished for him.
“Can I ask some questions?” I didn’t wait for a response. “Like, what the hell are you talking about? What’s going on? I thought you were all in on it together, trying to get me to have your Dumaya.”
Mr. Bevington shook his head. “Absolutely not. There are many of us who don’t want to see the Dumaya come into the world at all. We’re not interested in seeing humanity destroyed.”
“My mother was human,” Josh said quietly.
“Most of us are at least part human,” Mason added.
“People like Roger Bartlef and Hazel Biet want to try to purify our bloodlines,” Mr. Bevington said. “And they see the Dumaya as the answer to that problem.”
“But if I was the mother, the Dumaya would be half-human,” I objected.
Mr. Bevington smiled grimly. “Apparently that doesn’t bother them,” he said.
“So,” I said slowly, “if Miss Biet set up tonight’s business without Bartlef’s knowledge . . .”
“Then there’s a schism in their ranks,” Mr. Bevington said.
“Could that help us?” Mason asked.
“I don’t know,” Mr. Bevington said. “I’ll see what I can find out from the others.”
“Which brings me to my next question,” I said. “Since when are you two working together?” I flicked my hand back and forth, gesturing between Josh and Mason.
They both looked down, then at each other.
“Since the beginning, right?” I guessed. “So was everything you two did a set-up?”
“That’s my fault,” Mr. Bevington said. “When I found out that Bartlef wanted both of them to pursue you, I encouraged them to make it look good.”
“Great,” I said. “So it was all…what? Play-acting? A big joke? You were using me to trick Bartlef?” My voice hardened. “And tonight I was the bait.” I stood up. “Glad it worked out so well for you.”
“Wait!” Josh said. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Really? Did your father tell you to go after me?”
“Well, yeah,” he admitted, shame-faced.
“And to tell me part of the story?”
“Yes.” His voice was almost a whisper. “But . . .”
“And you.” I spun on Mason. “Did Josh’s father tell you to go after me, too?”
“Yes.” He wouldn’t meet my eye.
“Exactly.” I walked to the door. “So what am I supposed to do next?” I asked. “Just keep going to school like nothing happened?”
“Probably,” Mr. Bevington admitted. “At least until we find out more.”
“Which we have to do in the next week,” Josh added.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because,” Mason said, “we’re supposed to meet with Bartlef again next weekend. We need to figure this out by then.”
“So,” I said. “You’re both pretending to date me so that you can uncover your school counselor’s evil plan to wipe out humanity. By next weekend.”
Neither Josh nor Mason looked at me.
I gnashed my teeth together. “I have to go now,” I finally said. “I’ll be at John’s house, being grounded. And you can all just leave me alone.”
“So, um, Laney?” Mason said tentatively.
I stopped in the doorway but didn’t look back. “Yes?”
“Does this mean we’re not selling ads together today?”
I slammed the door behind me and stomped up the road, shaking with anger.
I couldn’t believe I’d let both of those guys kiss me.
Jerks.
* * *
John didn’t even look up from his coffee when I walked in and headed back to my room, and Kayla was apparently still asleep. Guess Mr. Bevington’s mind-wipe was going to hold.
Lucky me.
I threw myself down on my bed, closed my eyes, and crossed my arms over my chest, hugging them tightly to my torso, as if I were trying to squeeze out the memory of the previous night by sheer force.
Of course, the more I tried to avoid thinking about it, the more the images crowded in behind my closed eyelids.
I sat up and threw a pillow across the room. It bounced off the wall harmlessly, and I growled. I wanted to break something.
At that moment, John knocked on my door. “Breakfast is ready,” he called.
“No thanks,” I said.
“Look,” he said through the closed door. “I know you’re still angry with me for not letting you go out last night. I get it. That’s fine. I just want you to know that it really is for your own good.”
I choked back a strangled laugh. Oh, if only he knew.
On second thought, better that he didn’t know anything at all.
An hour later, I glanced out my window and saw Mr. Bevington walking deliberately around the house, sprinkling some sort of powder on the ground. He looked like he might be talking to himself. When he saw me looking, he smiled and waved. I closed the blinds.
Guess the house was “secure” now.
I didn’t feel all that secure, though.
I spent most of the rest of the day replaying all the events since I’d gotten to Fairy, and trying to remember if Miss Biet had said “noy” or “nay.” And which one meant what. Because the one thing I was sure of—just about the only thing I was sure of at this point—was that the best thing that could happen to me was for everyone to figure out that I was not this Yatah. Then I could go about my life, such as it was, make it through the next three years, graduate from high school, and run away to college. Maybe in Australia.
Yeah, right. I couldn’t even figure out how to get through the next three days.
Chapter 14
Monday morning I woke up with what felt like a lump of lead in my stomach.
The gray light filtering in the windows from the overcast sky matched my mood. I had managed to get through the rest of the weekend by focusing on catching up on homework. I was even two chapters ahead in history. I had completed the paper that was due in English on Thursday. And all that work had almost helped me forget what was going on in the rest of Fairy, Texas.
Plus it had given me a legitimate reason for hiding out in my room and avoiding John and Kayla. I had come out for meals, but I let them both go on thinking that I was pouting over being grounded. It was easier than actually talking to either of them.
But now I had to go back to school, where all my troubles were waiting for me.
“Ready?” Kayla asked as she headed out the door.
I gulped down the rest of my coffee and grabbed my backpack from the table. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I muttered.
The ride to school was beautifully silent. I spent the time focusing on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. No hyperventilating.
Ally and Sarah were waiting for me outside the building. They grabbed me and pulled me away from Kayla, just barely outside her hearing range, before they started talking at the same time.
“Where did you go Friday?” Ally asked.
“A
re you okay?” Sarah asked.
They both stopped and looked at me expectantly.
I had actually prepared an answer to the question about my Friday-night disappearance from the party. “Josh and Mason wanted to talk to me,” I said.
Ally’s eyes grew round. “Really? Both of them? At the same time?”
Sarah, on the other hand, looked suspicious. “Really?” she asked in a completely different tone from Ally’s.
“Really,” I said.
“So what did you talk about?” Sarah asked.
“Nothing I’m ready to discuss yet,” I said in what I hoped was a tone of finality.
“Hmph,” Sarah said, her eyes narrowed.
“Oh, no,” said Ally. “You have to tell us something. Anything.”
I laughed. It sounded strained to my own ears, but I hoped it would at least fool Ally. “Later,” I said. “I’ll tell you more later.”
I heaved a sigh of relief when the bell rang and I had to hurry off to geometry class. First time ever I’ve been grateful to go to a math class.
After class, I slipped into the girls’ bathroom on the second floor and hid out in a stall until right before the bell rang. By the time I slid into my desk chair in English, the teacher was talking and I could more easily ignore Josh, despite his increasingly obvious attempts to get me to look at him. Instead, I paid close attention to the lesson and raised my hand. I had a lot to say about Julius Caesar that day. I was especially vocal about the whole “betrayal” aspect of the play.
Josh quit trying so hard to get my attention after that.
By the time I got to P.E. it had started raining, so we played dodgeball in the gym. I purposely let myself get hit so I could sit out most of the games. Coach Laramie glared at me, but I ignored her. I was tired of letting the people of Fairy take shots at me. My wrists and ankles were still bruised from the manacles, and I didn’t see any reason to add to the injuries. I pulled on an oversized windbreaker and let the elasticized cuffs dangle below my hands so no one would ask any questions.
At lunch, Sarah sat next to me and watched with narrowed eyes while Ally tried to wheedle information out of me in her not-so-subtle way.
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