The Night House

by Rachel Tafoya

We both laugh.

  “I told Finn about it, and he said that guy wouldn’t be coming back.”

  “That vamp,” I correct her. “They’re not guys.”

  “Right.” She tousles my hair.

  Then she sits on the edge of the bed. “You get paler every day, Bee. Whatever you’re doing out there, you should cut back. I knew this one girl who had a side job. This vamp got carried away and killed her, and no one found out for weeks because he dumped her body in the river. Side jobs don’t have Finn to tell them the rules.”

  “Thanks for the bedtime story. Bye.”

  She takes the hint and backs up, but she doesn’t leave yet. “Take the night off.”

  “Already done.”

  “And do something nice for yourself. Buy that steak dinner. Lots of red meat. Just take care of yourself.” The concern in her voice is sweet. She’s always so sweet.

  “I’m on it,” I mumble, eyes closed.

  As annoying as Alex can be, I’m grateful for her. She and Micah are my family, if you can call it that. I don’t know why she wastes her time trying to make me better. Whatever the reason, I hope she doesn’t stop. Because sometimes, she does make me feel like I could be better. Like I’m worth it.

  James

  The wind picks up as Shiloh and I head back to my house. He wants to see Ally. That makes the extra blocks worth it for him. Anxiety swells around him as he thinks of what to say to her, but I’m trying to shut him out. His nerves are making me antsy.

  I want to know what I feel, but I’m not so easy to read, apparently. Not when there’s an extra person in my head. The girl is sick. I know because I’m nauseous. It makes me feel clammy and porous, like I’m hollow. But I’m fine.

  I think.

  Shiloh grabs my arm.

  “Dude, your house is that way.” He points away from the street I was about to cross.

  “Oh, right.”

  He studies me. “She really got to you, huh?”

  “Who?”

  This time he punches my arm. “The girl you just ranted about for five minutes.”

  We reach my door and I shake my head—like that could shake her out of me. “Yeah, I guess.”

  My mom opens the door before I can even reach for it.

  “Shiloh! Are you staying for dinner?” She beams at us, ever ready to entertain my only friend.

  “Absolutely.” He grins at her. “I’d eat anything you made, Mrs. Fields.”

  “Oh it’s not me who cooks. Neil is the real chef. Come on in.”

  She opens the door, and we step past her. Ally and my dad are in the kitchen. She runs over to me as I step out of my shoes and gets in my face. I feel like I might fall over.

  “Are you okay?” she whispers. “Are you still H-I-G-H?”

  “You know, I think everyone here can spell.”

  “Shut up, you’re evading.”

  “I’m better. I’m not excellent.”

  A frown settles onto her lips, and she lets me go. Her gaze stays stuck on me. She knows I’m not telling her everything.

  “Later,” I say, and she backs off.

  “What’s for dinner?” Shiloh asks loudly, and we both stare at him.

  Ally slides her hands into the back pocket of her jeans. “FBLT’s.”

  “Fake bacon, lettuce and tomato?” he says with much more excitement than he feels. “My fave.”

  Ally laughs against her will, and we all gravitate toward the kitchen until we’re sitting down. There is a strange energy between my parents that I don’t recognize. They both smile at me with pride in their eyes.

  “Did you meet Shiloh outside?” Mom asks, all nervous energy.

  I nod.

  “Was everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” I try my best I’m-a-normal-kid smile. “You don’t have to be so worried.”

  They let out their collective breath. Dad asks Shiloh for the eighteenth time for a college update, and Shiloh recites the same answer. “Not really sure, Mr. F. I’d like to go to Berkeley for music, but that’s a long shot.” Then we all scold him for being so modest.

  The banter has lost its charm. I want to bang my head on the table and tell them all to shut up, please. The exhaustion is causing my brain to malfunction. I’ve never been this cranky. This is wrong. I hardly ever get upset. I have to remind myself that it’s not actually me feeling this. I’m not cranky from lack of sleep or pissed at the world. It’s that damn girl.

  I try my best to latch onto Shiloh’s calm, but it’s difficult. My filters are disappearing. I manage to steal a little bit of Shiloh’s tapping fingers, but Ally’s anxiety is bleeding through, as well as Mom and Dad’s joint parental curiosity. Whenever Shiloh comes over, both of them have to sit him down and ask a million questions about his mother and everything he’s doing. Ally and Shiloh save me from having to say anything, but they’re getting worried again. I’m being pulled in a million different directions.

  “So what have you been up to?” Mom asks as she starts to pour drinks for everyone.

  “Just thinking about kidnapping Jay and forcing him on a road trip.”

  “That would be so much fun, wouldn’t it?” She grins at me.

  My lips thin into what might have been a smile if I wasn’t in such a bad mood.

  Dad furrows his eyebrows. “You okay? Did something happen when you were out?”

  It’s code for: Did you have a panic attack?

  “Just didn’t get a good night’s sleep.” I manage to smile, so they won’t think I can’t handle the outdoors. “After Ally dragged me to Shell’s party, I was pretty exhausted. Still shaking off the tired.”

  Dad elbows me softly. “Dinner’s in a little bit, but you should eat something now. You had a big night.”

  Even though I have no appetite, I take an apple and manage a few bites. I need them to stop worrying; it only makes me feel guilty. But I can tell they are just as happy with me for going out.

  When my parents release us from the conversation, the three of us head back to my room. Ally corners me, and Shiloh stands helpless on the sidelines.

  “What the hell is going on?” Her finger is pointed at my face.

  All the air empties out of me with a sigh, and I sink to the floor with my back against my bed. “Something happened with that girl. I still feel everything she’s feeling. It’s not right.”

  “But that only happens when you do that thing you do.” She waves her hand in the air.

  “The connection, I know. That’s the problem. I don’t know her, but it feels like I’ve made a connection with her. It’s like how I feel you or Shiloh. It’s not supposed to happen with strangers.”

  “Then why did it happen?”

  “I wasn’t exactly taught all the rules about this…” I gesture at myself, trying to think of the word for it.

  “Talent,” Shiloh suggests from the corner.

  “Sure, talent. I don’t understand how everything works. I probably never will.”

  I stop talking so Ally can digest. She is confused with an undertone of concern and maybe some hysterics on the way. Quite the storm brewing.

  “Who is she?” Ally asks.

  This question surprises me. I stumble on my words. “Um, I don’t know, Al. All I have are her emotions and her scars.”

  “Scars?” The word carries a little more weight to the three of us.

  Pain radiates in my wrist and I touch it, half expecting to dampen my fingers with blood again. “I think…she’s an addict. I feel a need in her.”

  “Addicted to what?” Ally asks, eyes narrowed.

  I shrug. “No clue. But she has these wounds all over her body, almost like…bite marks. Not sure if they’re from needles or if she’s doing it herself.”

  “Whoa.” For a second she is deeply affected by this, by the strangeness or maybe the horror. Some girl on drugs covered in bites, wandering Philly. Then she snaps back to her old self. “That’s so mes
sed up. What does she feel right now?”

  I recite the feelings automatically. “She’s scared and in a lot of discomfort. Not real pain anymore, but I think she’s getting sick. It feels like there isn’t enough stuff in her body. But she’s still restless.”

  Ally slowly sits across from me on the floor. Her gaze is on the wall, but her mind is a million miles away. I may as well have handed her a Rubik’s Cube to solve.

  “How ya feeling?” Shy asks.

  I shrug. “I think she’s going to sleep soon.”

  “Not her, you.”

  It takes a few seconds for me to sift through everything in my head. “I’m tired,” I answer. “Confused.” It’s the only thing I feel that I know is mine.

  Shiloh and I glance at each other. He’s concerned, but he’s also curious. He wants to know what I’ll do with it all.

  “Do you think this happened because…you know…the kiss?”

  “What?” Ally leans onto her hands, staring at me.

  I lean my head on the bed. “She was high. She kissed me. It was nothing.”

  “It was noth—” She pushes the heels of her hands into her temples. “Can you hear yourself? She kissed you, dude! Have you ever been kissed? That’s a big deal, bro!”

  “I really don’t think that’s why this happened. I don’t know,” I say with a sigh. “Maybe it is.”

  “You have to find her,” Ally exclaims.

  Shiloh and I both stare at her. She’s wild eyed, like she’s discovered gold.

  “Why?” I ask. “I’m already so tired because of her. Finding her might just kill me.”

  I’m a little intimidated by Ally’s intensity when she says, “I’ve always thought that you had this gift for a reason. I can see how affected you are by this girl. It might mean something. Maybe you’re supposed to help her. Maybe she’s like you! You guys could be freakin’ soul mates!”

  “That’s what I said,” Shiloh chimes in. “Well, not the soul mates part…”

  The girl’s eyes come back to me. Bright green, like the grass in all the man-made parks. I think of all the people who stepped on this girl, and what must have happened to put her in that situation. Could she really be like me? Could she be hiding, like me? Hiding her power?

  It might explain why she kissed me.

  “Maybe it’s nothing,” Ally goes on. “But I bet there’s a reason why that girl’s in pain. Maybe she’s hurting herself. And I’m willing to bet that she’s waiting for a reason to stop.”

  Like I was waiting for a reason to stop. She doesn’t have to say it.

  “It’s not that crazy,” Shiloh adds in a quiet voice. “Just knowing someone cares can be enough to stop a person from doing something stupid.”

  Ally’s eyes burn into me. I turn to her and slowly reach for her arm. “Ally, I appreciate your concern, but…I just don’t know if I can. You have to understand that I have limits.”

  Her lips thin. “Don’t talk down to me; I’m not a kid anymore.” Her gaze softens. “Sorry, it’s just…I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t think you could do it. This girl sounds like…I don’t know, like what you’ve been waiting for.”

  I don’t know if it’s because of Ally’s determined stare, or the pity I feel for this girl in my head, or the fact that I’ve always wanted to know why I have this power, but I make a decision.

  “I need to sleep,” I say.

  Both of their moods drop like stones. It feels like I’m sinking. They think I’ve given up.

  “I’m too tired to go out and find her now,” I finish.

  They both sigh happily. Shiloh punches my arm. “I knew you had it in you.”

  Ally takes Shiloh’s elbow as they leave, his heart racing at her touch. Ally’s heart is racing too, for different reasons. She believes in me.

  Slowly, I crawl into my bed and stare at my arms. The scars are almost nonexistent, and I trace one of the pale lines down my wrist.

  That was a long time ago, but I remember it so well. The whole time I was bouncing around foster care, I just thought about how my biological parents would have dealt with my scars and me. Would have they have understood? Did they feel this power in me as a baby? Were they repulsed? Or scared?

  With this girl in my head, all my scars feel fresher than ever. I don’t know how she ended up this way, but I know one thing for sure: No matter how infinitesimal it is, there is a chance that I could help her.

  I’ve felt her pain before.

  Bianca

  The hive is already buzzing when I wake up. I fumble my way into the tiny little kitchen we all share. Some of the girls hustle right by me like I’m not there. Others bump into me, staring coldly.

  Citrus stings my dry hands as I peel an orange. Most of the girls are indifferent toward me, but some of them don’t particularly like me. Everyone else is here to make money, but I couldn’t care less about that. It makes them think I don’t deserve to be here. Not to mention I’ve stolen a client or two from some of them.

  The ice water gives me goosebumps as I fill up a glass to take to my room. A container of pills—vitamins mostly—awaits me. Iron supplements are very important in this line of work, but sometimes I forget, like last night. Then I take a shower in one of the two bathrooms we all share. I wish I could make the water piping hot, but if I do that, I could pass out. Blood loss plus a long nap and a hot shower equals blackouts in the water. Still, it feels good in here.

  When I’m dressed, I knock lightly on Alex’s door.

  “Come in,” she calls. I open it to find her hiking up her thigh-highs.

  “Help your sister out,” she says. I rush over and clip her tights to her garter belt. Then she stands up with her hands on her hips. “I need new underwear. Seriously.”

  “Finn couldn’t care less what’s under the dress,” I say, climbing onto her bed.

  “Clever Bee. I have William coming in an hour. I never know what to wear for him.”

  “He’s the fighter, right?”

  She nods. “He thinks he’s hot stuff just because he can beat up other vampires. I mean, he is gorgeous, but he’s also kind of clueless. He wants to be treated the way human athletes are. It’s like, ‘sorry I didn’t catch your fight on TV, but humans don’t know about vampires. Also, you think animal prints are cool.’ ”

  I can’t help but laugh. “The longer they’re alive, the less they understand about fashion.”

  “I think he was just born that way.”

  “Or he’s been punched in the head too many times.”

  Vampires are a bloody species. I’ve heard about their fights, and how much they charge to watch two monsters tear each other apart. If humans knew about them, they’d probably pay a fortune. Fighting’s not the same when you heal from broken bones and torn flesh in a matter of days.

  Alex flicks through the clothes in her closet. “Last time I tried to go modern Fifties, but he said it made him feel old.”

  “You should straighten your hair,” I tell her. “Try to dull down your color scheme. I know you love your brights, but if you want to be more contemporary—”

  She huffs. “Yeah, yeah. Get me your straightener.”

  Five minutes later, Alex is sitting on the floor and I am running the iron through her hair. She tells me about an article she read in GQ about androgynous women’s wear.

  “I wish I could pull off a suit,” she whines.

  “Hold still or I’ll burn you.” I yank the flat iron away from her scalp. “You won’t look good in anything with third-degree burns.”

  “I’ll start a new trend, and then they’ll write about me in Vogue.”

  That’s her vice: magazines. She can’t get subscriptions sent to the Night House, but she goes out once in a while to pick them up from a newsstand or a market. We talk about how all the models in the pages are thinner than us.

  “They look like they’re going to break in half,” Alex says. “I mean, at least here, Finn make
s sure that we’re fed.”

  Her comment makes me remember how hungry I am. As if on command, my stomach rumbles loudly. Alex smirks at me.

  “Do you have a demon in there?”

  I touch my stomach. “Maybe.”

  “Go get some food.” She slaps my leg. “I’ll finish up.”

  Talking with Alex is easy. It’s normal. But as soon as I’m alone again, the itch sets in. Normally I, too, would be getting ready for my appointment. Tonight was supposed to be an easy officer visit. A little bit of nauth for no hassle. But Jeremiah canceled my appointment. To distract myself, I get my bag and set out for the South Street Diner.

  James

  It’s eight o’clock when Ally and Shiloh wake me. My body and mind are disconnected. When I sit up, it takes a moment for my brain to comprehend, like the world is going slower than me. I stare at my hands, waiting for the feeling to return to them. Everything I missed from the girl when I slept comes back to me in a rush. It feels like someone dumped ice water on me. “Good God.”

  “You okay?” Shiloh asks.

  Chills rack my body, and I wrap my arms around myself. “I really need her out of my head.”

  “Plus you want to help her, right?” Ally asks.

  My gaze darts between her and Shiloh. “Yeah, that too.”

  Ally smiles. “I want to know everything about her.”

  “I just want to know what put her in this place,” Shiloh says. “You said she was about our age, right?”

  I nod. “Couldn’t have been older than me.”

  Shiloh just keeps shaking his head. “She must be so alone.”

  Silence creeps up on us as we all imagine what may or may not happen. I’m picturing this skeleton of a girl, walking zombie-like down an alleyway, looking for something sharp.

  My skin feels tight, like my whole body is sunburned. My legs are restless, eager for something that I’ve never felt before. I don’t know how it’s possible for someone to be experiencing so many things at once. For the first time, I realize how different we are. I barely know what I’m doing half the time, let alone how I’m feeling. With so many other people around me, it’s hard to know my own emotions from theirs. But this girl feels so much, all the time, and it’s all hers. That would destroy me.