by Becca Fox
“Good boy.” It didn’t sound like a compliment, just a fact. Still, it was surprising to hear considering how she’d treated me the first time we’d met.
With one last glance at her niece, the old lady left. The nurse shied away when Dinah walked through the doorway. The younger woman gave a little shudder at Dinah’s back and then scurried off.
A jingle from my phone told me Anthony had answered my text. I fished my phone out of my pocket and swiped a finger across the screen. Jasmine was sleeping. Her bruises were already fading. She was going to be fine. Of course she was. The curse always left her good as new, ready to experience another death.
Gritting my teeth, I shoved the phone back into my pocket. Then I snatched the ball cap from my chair and pressed it to the top of my head. I paced the room, muttering to myself about the injustice of this stupid life. My clothes and hair were still damp because the hospital was kept below freezing. My sneakers squeaked and squelched with every step I took, leaving crumbs of dried mud everywhere. I was considering going back to the precinct for a change of clothes when—
“Charlie.”
It was barely more than a whisper, but I heard it. I stepped up to the side of her bed. Esmer blinked at me, groggy and slow. Her breaths came in short gasps. I couldn’t imagine how hard it must be just to breathe.
She grimaced. “Ow.”
I let out a short laugh. “That’s an understatement.”
“You were there,” she said through swollen lips. “You knew where to find me. How?”
“I’m stalking you,” I deadpanned.
A rattling cough had her turning away from me for a second. Her hand came up to her chest. One of her fingers was in a little splint. Her face twisted in pain. Then she settled back against the pillows.
“Don’t…make me…laugh,” she panted. “It hurts…too much.”
I sighed. “You’d never believe the truth. Why don’t we just stick with the stalking story?”
“Because I’ve…never lied…to you.” Esmer closed her eyes. Breathed some more. Peeked up at me again. “Because we’re…friends.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek.
Esmer said she didn’t scare easily, but I was sure she’d never heard anything like Jasmine’s and my story before. There was a chance it would freak her out. Or worse: the truth could make her feel sorry for me. Then she’d try to still be my friend even if she was secretly terrified of or repulsed by me. Just like Penny did.
I wasn’t ready to lose those honest conversations and the smiles that came so effortlessly and the way she stole glances at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.
“I have to talk to Jasmine first,” I finally said. “If she says it’s okay, I’ll tell you everything. Deal?”
Esmer smiled in response. Then she fell back to sleep.
December 2nd, 1949
The thought plagued me all week. We were moving through Alaska when we were snowed in. We stayed huddled in our tent for three weeks, unable to force our horses to move through the snow any farther. We really had no desire to walk through the storm, so we just slept and talked, wrapped in each other’s arms the whole time. There was nothing different about our situation. We always slept together, always talked. The only good thing about our curse is that we are allowed to share such intimacy for our whole existence. However, the second week of our entrapment, I couldn’t get the thought of children out of my head.
We can’t have children; a detail of our curse. But even before the curse, Dymeka and I had been married five years and we were unable to bear children. Fadele and Nij had two. Segil and Izz bore one baby that was already dead and one that lived.
I was barren: a curse in and of itself in our tribe. We were scorned. There must have been something wrong with us because all six of us married so old. I was about eighteen when Dymeka came to my tribe to find a wife. And he didn’t marry me for another year. Nij and Segil are younger than me but they were married at seventeen. We were all scandalous. Old maids, for our time. But the three of us were saved by the most wonderful men. That was why we became such close friends. Our age, our matrimonies; all unceremonious. The fact I was barren only added to our oddity.
But they had children. Not for long, of course—they were killed by our tribe. Once they saw how we did not age but our children did—they burned the offspring and tried to kill us as well. We escaped only to run and continue running for eternity. The death of their children haunted our brethren for so many years but after several centuries, the four of them forgot, or so they say. I have a vague suspicion their loss was in some way a catalyst for their behavior and thinking later in life.
I always envied them; the fact they ever had children at all. Dymeka says I’m the only person he needs to be happy and I feel the same about him, but there are moments I miss the children we never had. Being trapped in our tent made me think how differently our lives would have been if we had children with us the entire time. Maybe things wouldn’t have gone so wrong. But the other immortals had children and that didn’t seem to stop them from surrendering their lives to Death.
* * *
Chapter 15
Jasmine
When I woke up, I could still hear the echoes of Death’s groaning. She felt as if her time had been wasted, as if she’d come to the land of the living for nothing. I didn’t see what the big deal was; it wasn’t as if she had anything better to do. Still, I felt her frustration as if it was my own. But mostly, I felt icky.
Charlie sat by my bed. That frown he wore made him look old and miserable. He wasn’t wearing his contacts. That meant he hadn’t gone outside in a while. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him with the same eggplant-colored eyes I saw whenever I looked in the mirror. His hair was getting long; we’d look more alike now if we stood side by side.
He stared down at my comforter, deep in thought while twirling a soldering iron between his fingers. When I glanced at my bedside table, I saw that I had a new knick-knack; a tiny owl made out of copper and steel wires as thick as pencils. It could’ve fit in the palm of my hand. I smiled sleepily. I hated to see him upset, but he made the prettiest toys when he was.
“She’s adorable,” I said. “I think I’ll call her Buffy the Tuff Owl.”
My brother smiled a little. He set the soldering iron aside and leaned forward. “How’re you feeling?”
“About the same as Esmer, I expect.” I sat up slowly. Pressure against the sides of my head had me lowering myself back into my pillows. Different parts of my body seemed to be screaming at me, reminding me of the beating I’d taken. Tears made my world misty.
Poor Esmer.
“Do you need some pain meds?” Charlie twisted around in his chair. “I can ask Anthony—” But, for once, the doctor wasn’t hovering at my brother’s elbow or standing in the living room, pretending to give us privacy. This was one of those rare moments when we were actually alone.
“Or I can look in the medicine cabinet myself,” Charlie said after a pause, his forehead crinkling. “That’s weird. I wonder where he is.”
“Hopefully, he’s taking my advice and spending time with his family for once.” I waved away my brother’s concern. “I’m fine; don’t worry. How’s Esmer?”
“In pretty rough shape, but she was lucid enough to laugh at one of my lame jokes.” He ran a hand down his face. “Lucid enough to ask how I knew where she was.”
“We have to tell her the truth, Charles.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Don’t sound so depressed,” I said with a laugh. “The last person we told didn’t run away, screaming their head off in terror.”
Charlie’s jaw tightened.
It took me a second too long to remember that there had been another person to learn the truth since we’d told Anthony.
I sighed. “Esmer isn’t like Penny. She’s stronger.”
My brother made a noncommittal sound as he slouched back into his chair and averted his gaze.
“You were already going to tell her. Maybe not tomorrow or in the next few weeks, but you were getting there,” I said before he could object. “She’s the first person you’ve gotten close to since, what? Freshman year of high school? It was bound to happen. Her being touched by Death gives you the perfect opening.”
Charlie, still wrestling with old hurts, gave the lame excuse of, “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
I spread my hands out before me. “How about: Once upon a time…?”
He rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a fairytale we’re living, Jazz.”
“Isn’t it?” I let my hands drop over the comforter. “We’re like a version of Hansel and Gretel where the witch wins.”
“There’s a reason nobody wrote that story.” Charlie racked a hand through his hair. “It’s not a story anyone would want to read.”
I saw fear and dread in the lines cutting across his face. He never talked about Penny, never mentioned the period in his life when he’d ventured out of his comfort zone and had tried to make friends. But the fallout had left a painful wound, one that obviously wasn’t fully healed. Now here I was, picking at it. I knew this could blow up in his face. I also knew it had the potential to become something great. There was only one way to find out how it was going to end up. Maybe I was meddling. Maybe I was being too overbearing, forcing my brother into something he wasn’t ready for. But, dammit, someone had to give him a push otherwise he’d never move!
“Maybe I should go with you,” I said, perking up.
A sigh. “No, Jazz.”
“I can help you tell the story when you get all choked up. Yeah, I should definitely go with you.”
“And what if someone in the ICU dies?” my brother snapped, aiming all his fear and anxiety at me. Like I knew he would. “What if you die right in front of Esmer? A nurse or a doctor or a freakin’ janitor could walk by at the wrong time and see you. The media will be all over us again. No. I have to do this alone.”
I grinned. Who said reverse psychology never worked?
“What?” he muttered, suddenly uneasy.
“I’m just so proud of you, little brother,” I cooed, reaching out to pat him on the head.
He ducked away. “You’re two minutes older than I am. It doesn’t count.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” I glanced at the digital clock sitting behind Buffy the Tuff Owl. “When are you going to see her again?”
“Tomorrow. Maybe.” He ran his fingers over the back of his neck as if working out a knot. “Doctors said the more she rests, the faster she’ll recover so I’ve stayed away. To let her rest.”
“That and you’re buying yourself more time,” I added. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll still think you’re hot and mysterious after you spill your guts about our curse.”
Charlie scrunched his face at me before standing.
Chapter 16
Esmeralda
Aunt Dinah was there the next time I woke up. She had my phone and earbuds with her. “Here,” she said stiffly. “I thought you would want this.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, closing my fingers around my favorite thing in the whole world. Finally!
“I don’t have to tell you not to contact your friends back in Boston, correct?”
I resisted the urge to scoff. It would probably hurt. “No, ma’am.”
The old woman nodded. “Rest. I’ll be back in the morning.”
“Wait,” I said before she could leave. “Did you tell my mom?”
“I thought I’d leave it up to you. Do you want me to tell her?”
I shook my head.
“Very well.” She put on her raincoat and walked out of the room.
I put my earbuds in, scrolled through my music selection, and hit play when I found what I wanted to listen to. Coldplay began to sing. I fell asleep to the lyrics of Yellow.
◆◆◆
Charlie wasn’t there the second and third times I woke up. A bunch of nurses were. And a few doctors. They talked a lot. It was kind of annoying, but they were saying good things so I couldn’t complain too much. Then a detective came by to see me. He was a tall guy with blond hair and a scruffy beard and mustache combo. He dressed casually, in jeans and a flannel shirt, but he flashed a badge and spoke with authority.
“Hello, Esmeralda. My name is Detective Victor Campbell. I work with the Seattle Police Department at the North Precinct. I believe you know my nephew, Charles.”
I leaned to the side, hoping to see Charlie sulking somewhere behind his uncle. “Yeah…”
“I’m sorry he isn’t here today,” Victor said, and I believed him. He had an honest, open sort of face. “His sister has been sick these last few days. He’s been hesitant to leave her.”
“Right,” I murmured, unable to help my disappointment.
Victor removed a notebook and a pen from his jeans’ pocket. “I’ve questioned Allan, Winston, Cole, Randi, and Karen. I’m fairly certain of their guilt, but I’d like to hear your side of the story before issuing an arrest.”
Under normal circumstances, I never would’ve spilled my guts to a trooper. I wasn’t a rat. But since this was Charlie’s uncle and he seemed concerned for me, I thought I’d try being honest with a man in uniform for once. I told him everything, starting with the fight between Allan, Cole, Winston, Charlie and me, and ending with the ambush after our first hour of mandatory community service. The detective nodded and scribbled until I stopped talking.
“Would you be willing to testify in court once you’ve healed?”
I nodded. Might as well go all the way and become a professional rat.
He smiled. “That’s very brave of you.” Then he flipped his notebook closed and wished me a speedy recovery.
I was tempted to ask him if he knew when Charlie would be coming to see me again, but thought better of it. I didn’t want to appear needy. Besides, Charlie said he’d come back and tell me everything. I knew he’d keep his word. And if he didn’t, I’d just find his address and go bug the hell out of him after I was released from the hospital.
◆◆◆
I woke up from a nightmare to find Charlie standing by my window. It was still raining outside so it was hard to tell how long I’d been asleep. Or how long I’d been in the hospital for that matter. After eating the same three meals a day and spending all my time sleeping, or listening to music while staring at the wall, or trying to get the stupid TV to play anything other than General Hospital reruns, it was hard to keep track of time.
The important thing was that he was here. I was finally going to get some answers.
“It’s about time.” I pressed the incline button on the bed control. The section of mattress under my torso slowly began to rise so I could sit up without actually sitting up. “Kiki Jerome went through two boyfriends while I was waiting on your ass to show up.”
“My sister doesn’t have a psychic gift,” Charlie said without looking at me.
I sighed. He was such a drama queen. “Yeah, I figured. She has some other mental illness, right?”
“No. She’s cursed. And so am I.”
Finally, he turned to face me. His eyes were such a dark purple they looked almost black.
“Whoa. That’s wicked awesome.” I waved a hand and shook my head. “Not the whole being cursed part but the changing eye color part.”
Charlie shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at the door. “I usually wear colored contacts when I’m outside the precinct. My eyes draw too much unwanted attention otherwise.”
“Okay. So cursed, huh? What’s that about?” I never would’ve pegged him as a superstitious type. I didn’t believe in curses or spirits or voodoo, but everyone was entitled to their own worldview, right? Besides, he’d let me talk about my personal stuff without passing judgment, so I owed him that much.
He rocked on his feet and watched people passing by through the little window built into the door. I was about to ask again when he stepped up to the plastic chair by my b
ed. He dropped into it. Took a deep breath. Ran a hand through his hair. Stared down at his knees. When he finally did start talking, the words came slowly, as if he were having a hard time finding the right ones.
“Once upon a time…there was a couple who wanted to have children.” He wiped his palms against his jeans. “Let’s call them Dan and Joyce Campbell.”
I nodded. I would play along if this made things easier for him. “A’ight.”
“After six miscarriages, a bout of fertility tests, and two in vitro fertilization attempts, they were out of money and without hope of ever creating a family on their own.” Charlie licked his lips and glanced at me. “Then they found out they were pregnant with twins.”
“A boy and a girl,” I assumed.
He nodded. “Everything seemed to be going fine until the sixth month rolled around. Joyce went into early labor. It was painful and difficult. And completely unnecessary.” Bitterness chased away his anxiety. “The boy could’ve survived with some serious medical help, but something went wrong in the development of his brain. He was born blind. The girl was fatally behind in her physical development. Apart from her mother, she wouldn’t survive the hour.
“You can imagine Dan and Joyce’s despair. To come so close, only to lose their kids now.” Charlie leaned back in his chair, poker faced. “That’s what drew Death to them, I think: their desperation. She appeared in the hospital room as a woman with a ghostly glow. She asked them what they could offer her if she saved the babies. They promised her whatever she wanted. Whatever it took.”
I shuddered. Uh-oh.
Charlie leaned an elbow against one of the armrests and rubbed his eyes. “Of course, there wasn’t anything Death wanted from Dan and Joyce. She just wanted to play with them. So she gave the boy who couldn’t see the ability to witness the deaths of others nearby. The girl who came so close to death would die again and again and again, in every horrible, painful way the people within her radius did. When Death left, the babies were healthy and whole. But from the moment Dan and Joyce took them home from the hospital, the curse took effect.”