by Skye Genaro
I had no reputation, not the kind he meant, anyway. "I guess that's a chance I'll have to take."
"Oh, angel, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
"Is that a challenge?" I asked, taking in the rose color of his lips.
"Saturday night. You buy the popcorn. Consider it payment for the bumper."
*******
A dozen different shirts and sweaters lay in a pile on my bed. Jaxon was due to show up any minute and I still didn't know what to wear. All my clothes seemed too cute, too…innocent. When Tugg called me innocent, he'd meant it as a compliment. Now the word made me feel fragile and naïve. Pretty much the opposite of how I wanted to come across to Jaxon.
The clock ticked closer to date time. I used my magic touch to cut out the entire back of a black blouse, then replaced it with black lace. I shimmied into a pair of skintight jeans and added tall boots with heels that would bring us eye-to-eye.
I put on eye shadow—three shades of brown to make my eyes large and sunken. I lined the bottom lid with black. The overall effect was edgy and mysterious.
It was seven o'clock, then a quarter after. No sign of my date. I killed a few minutes by running through my ritual—telekinesis, levitation, the whole bit—so that I wouldn't accidentally slip up while I was in public. I slid the bracelets onto my arm for good measure.
My eyes settled on Connor's portrait. It still sat against the wall next to my desk, as it had for months. That tropical gaze that had lured me to him seemed piercing now, cool and judging. That quirky smile that I'd painted seemed filled with doubt, like he knew what I was up to and did not approve.
I tried not to feel tense but the truth was the date with Jaxon left me feeling scattered and uncertain. The portrait staring back at me made it worse. The girl that Connor fell for had been struggling and broken. Kind. Caring.
There was no room in my life for sweetness anymore. My days were filled with too much fear and uncertainty.
Now I was acting a part, with my revealing shirt and stiletto boots and cocky promises. I hoped the changes on the outside would sink through my skin and make me tougher on the inside. But at that moment, my identity felt like a handful of confetti tossed into a shifting wind.
Also, the prospect of falling for another guy frightened me. My heart was still healing and the scars were coarse and ropey. The mere idea that I would ever care for anyone as much as Connor was laughable.
I didn't want to fall in love again. Ever.
But I liked being liked, and I liked going on dates. So I was left playing a new role, shrugging into it as I would a dense, weatherproof coat that was too big in the shoulders, too long in the arms.
If I had to bring out the non-angelic side of me to keep my heart from breaking, so be it. As for Jaxon, I had firmly put him in the fun-doll category. Raquelle used this term when she dated more than one guy at a time. She simply was not getting serious with anybody, she'd say. They were fun-dolls.
I took one long, last look at the portrait. "It's got to be this way," I told Connor's likeness. "Or I'll never move on." I'd even stopped wearing the coin necklace he got me because every time I put it on, well, there he was.
I turned the portrait to face the wall.
My pulse hitched. I flipped the canvas around again. A tiny red mark—a paint drip?—ran from the scar on his forehead and onto his temple. My mind immediately thought blood, but unless Kimber or the maid cut themselves in my room, that wasn't possible.
I ran a thumbnail over the mark. Whatever it was, it wasn't coming off.
A seed of uneasiness planted in my belly, but I turned the painting to face the wall.
I checked outside to see if Jaxon was waiting in the driveway. I'd given him explicit instructions to text me from the bottom of the hill. That would allow me time to slip out the front door without Kimber noticing. I wasn't sure if dating was part of my jail sentence—they already took my car away, wasn't that enough? I figured it was better not to ask about the fine print of being grounded.
Seven thirty came and with it, a one-word text from Jaxon.
Tomorrow.
"What?" I yelled at my phone. You're standing me up? I texted back. He didn't respond.
"Unbelievable." I threw my phone on the bed.
Chapter 16
"Do it again." Becca stabbed her spoon into her yogurt at our lunch table. Raquelle sat a few rows away in the school cafeteria, at the Partychick's table, holding court with her clique. She was straining to maintain composure.
An invisible force—that would be me—was swatting her ponytail. Sometimes to the side, sometimes up and back. It was driving the girl batty. Sweat dribbled down her neck, darkening her blouse. Her shoulder twitched at random intervals like she expected the great hand of doom to clamp down on it any second.
I gave her golden hair another solid telekinetic tug. Raquelle slammed her hand on the table and stormed across the cafeteria. The Partychicks batted their lashes in confusion. Clearly their Queen Bee had lost her mind.
Good. This was good. Hassling Raquelle was fun, but I had a reason for throwing my energy across the packed room. I was taking a huge risk, exposing myself in a public place, because I hoped to draw my unknown ally out of hiding.
The girl from the bridge had cared enough to drop a warning note in my locker, but I hadn't heard from her since. She might reveal herself if she saw me carelessly using my power. I was certain Roth and Luma didn't go to my school, and prayed the mystery girl was the sole person at Lincoln with aura-radar.
Raquelle planted her fists on my table and leaned in so our noses were almost touching.
"You quit this right now or I swear to God I will destroy you." Her jaw trembled.
I fanned the air between us. "Did you eat onions?"
Her eye jumped in a spasm. "I know you're pulling your witch crap on me. Leave me alone!"
"Listen and listen carefully. Of all the things I have to worry about right now, you don't even rank. Got that? If you're the victim of someone's hoodoo, and it ain't me, then there must be more of us out there."
Her mouth opened but she could not find the words. She jerked back. "That's not possible. There aren't more of you. You're trying to scare me. "
"Your glory days are over, Raquelle. Don't mess with us." I wiggled my fingers hocus-pocus style and added a ghostly woooooh. Her face lost all its color and she squeezed her legs together like she was about to pee her pants. She left the cafeteria with one hand wrapped around her ponytail.
"I think you went too far," Becca said.
"Definitely." The way I figured it, she had it coming. "She's getting what she's dished out to me."
Becca quirked her mouth in disapproval.
I scanned the room for a sign that my telekinetic goofing off had gotten anyone else's attention. From the other side of the room, Jaxon twitched a friendly nod. He sat with a group of junior guys. He still hadn't answered my text or apologized for standing me up on our date. If that was the way he wanted to play it, fine. He had sunk himself down to persona non grata.
"I guess Jaxon wasn't the love machine you were expecting," Becca said.
"How'd you know he stood me up?" I hadn't told her he was a no-show.
She gave me an odd look. "I didn't. I figured your date ended early 'cuz I saw him out late on Saturday night."
"What? Who with? That freshman girl who's always sniffing around?" I snapped. So much for not caring.
"He was with a guy. At Forest Park."
"At night?" Forest Park was a wooded area within the Portland city limits. It spanned hundreds of acres and, while it was popular with runners and hikers, it wasn't hangout central, at least not on a wet, winter night.
"You know that pullout by the Witch's Castle trail?" she asked.
I shook my head.
"It's at the edge of the forest. Lucas takes me there because it creeps me out and I spend most of the time on his lap while we're making out. Which I would anyway but I let him think h
e's got all the moves. Anyway, we were up there a while and I had to pee. I was in the bushes next to the trail with my jeans around my ankles and Jaxon comes out of the woods with another guy."
"Who?"
"I don't know, but who goes down Witch's Castle trail at one in the morning? Some super creepy stuff supposedly happens there. The legend is that people used to get sacrificed…"
I made the fast-forward motion with my hand. "Back to the guys…"
"Well, they stopped pretty close to me. They had flashlights and I recognized Jaxon's voice. He was mad and said, 'I'm not just anybody.' And the guy said, 'You still need to prove yourself.'"
I squinted in confusion. "Weird."
"Right? The guy was older though, not a student."
"I wonder if this is why he stood me up."
"Ask him. He was super pissed, but the guy laughed at him. They left together, though."
That afternoon, I tracked down Jaxon outside his English classroom.
"Have you been avoiding me?" I asked.
"Yes. I wanted to get you this."
He pulled a pink rose out of his book bag. "I owe you an apology."
I didn't take it. "Yeah, you do. What you did on Saturday might be okay by West Region standards, but here you can't just not show up for a date. You didn't even answer my text."
"I know. I'm sorry, but something came up. It won't happen again." A tiny crease formed between his eyebrows. His aura pulsed with embarrassment. The flower was a nice gesture, but it was two days too late.
"What did you end up doing that was so important?" I asked. Yes, this was a test.
"Translation: did I find something better to do than go on our date? Depends on how you look at it. I got a lead and I followed it."
My attitude did a one-eighty. "I will pay you a million dollars right now if you got the last names of those kids," I said.
"You make deals like that and people will just tell you lies." His aura jumped, then settled. "I met a guy who I thought would get me close to the Mutila, but we got into an argument. It was a dead end. I'm sorry I missed our date." He pressed the flower at me.
"You didn't even respond to my text," I said.
"What can I say? I screwed up."
A lot of boys would have made an excuse about dead phone batteries or never getting the message. Jaxon's honesty was disarming. I took the rose.
"I'm forgiven?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Can I take you out this weekend?" He stepped in. Warmth radiated off his body.
"I'm still grounded," I said.
"Then sneak out." He leaned in and kissed me on the lips right when my Trigonometry teacher, Ms. Fullner, walked by.
"No PDA in school," she said.
"Yeah, get a room," a kid teased.
My neck flushed—the angelic side of me acting out. My devil side wished he would kiss me again, right in front of Ms. Fullner.
"I wish I could read your mind right now." He lifted my chin with his knuckle.
"This is what I'm thinking." I kissed him on the lips until we were both late for class.
*******
"Smoothie Shack," I answered the phone at work. With my free hand, I dumped fruit and powder into the blender. A basketball game had let out at a nearby school and we'd been swamped all evening. "Just a minute, I'll go get him," I said and set the phone down.
My manager, Joe, had gone into The Cave when one of the games ate all of a customer's quarters without giving any playtime. I headed into the dark room, into the sea of bodies.
The local team had won big and everyone was in a good mood. The happy, bubbly auras slipped across my skin, making me feel like I was swimming in a freshly opened can of soda. The glow coming off the game score panels turned the crowd into a collection of shifting silhouettes. Since The Cave didn't have any overhead lights, I did a full lap before I found Joe kneeling next to one of the machines. One of its side panels was open, and wires tumbled out like loose intestines.
"Phone for you," I said. "It's that vendor guy you've been wanting to talk to."
"Tell him I'll call him later," Joe said over his shoulder and went back to his pile of wires.
I swung back toward the shop and screeched to a halt. There, near the entrance, was a head of copper hair. Next to her, an oafish guy plugged coins into a game slot. It was Roth and Luma. She shook the rain out of her hair and took off her coat. They settled into a pair of stools.
I thought I could slip past them if I left with a group of kids, but just looking at them made my pulse jump. Already, a tingling sensation intensified between my brows. And guess who forgot to wear her magnetic bracelets to work?
I slapped my hand to my forehead as though I could prevent my aura from transmitting my growing anxiety.
Too late. The scoreboard on Roth's game blinked erratically, and, like two feral predators picking up the scent of blood, their heads snapped toward the arcade's interior. Their postures stiffened. Luma's head tilted, searching for a faint vibration among the bodies. She would be picking up the same thing I was: a mix of ordinary teenage auras—scratchy, giddy, and complex. Somewhere in that mix, mine blared its unique frequency loud enough for a gifted person to sense it.
Without daring to breathe, I backed deeper into The Cave. My fingers went numb, telling me my aura was now screaming in silent decibels.
I ducked behind a cluster of boys as Luma and Roth homed in on one kid, and then another. They exchanged a few words and, to my shock, they picked up their coats and walked into the shop.
I exhaled hard. That had been close, but I was still stuck there until they left the Smoothie Shack.
"Hey, who's watching the counter?" Joe said on his way back into the shop.
"I'll be out in a minute," I said.
"This is no time to take a break. You've got a line of customers."
"I know," I said. "Sorry. I'm coming."
As Joe stepped out of the arcade, Luma and Roth re-appeared in the entryway. She scanned Joe, assessing him with cold amber eyes. A couple exited behind Joe, and she gave them the same calculated once-over. Then she anchored her gaze on The Cave's interior and waited. Roth took a seat next to the door. They knew whoever had triggered their interest was still inside, and they were going to scan each person until she found him or her.
Another minute ticked by, and when nobody else left, Luma became visibly agitated. Roth leaned in and said something into her ear. Her expression grew taut and she waved him off. Then she flicked her wrist, a motion so subtle, you'd miss it unless you knew what to look for.
A few empty seconds ticked by, and a game at the back of the room threw sparks into the crowd. Smoke poured out of the console. All hell broke loose as kids coughed and ran for the exit.
They were trying to flush me out.
Chapter 17
Despite the chaos, Luma and Roth held their spot. He grabbed kids' elbows, forcing them to slow down while she gave them a quick check. It was all very methodical, just another day searching for gifted kids to add to their macabre army.
The smoke thickened and turned black. I got down on my belly to avoid the heaviest of the smoke. It made it harder for them to see me, too, but that wouldn't last long. The Cave was almost empty. When Luma and Roth did not find what they were looking for, they would come in and get it.
I scrambled across the floor, searching by feel for a place to hide. Now, with all the kids gone and from my low vantage point, I could see a sliver of light glowing along the wall next to the supply room. I crawled toward it, pushed through a door, and found myself in Joe's office. I grabbed my coat and slipped out the back exit that we used to dump garbage at the end of each shift.
Cold air chafed my lungs. My chest convulsed. I hacked up and spit out chemical-saturated smoke until I thoroughly grossed myself out.
I called Joe on his cell phone—he made us add his number to our contact list in case we had to make last-minute changes to our shift—and told him in a hoarse voice that I was
out of the building and a safe distance away.
"Did you happen to see what started the fire?" he asked.
"I thought I saw one of the machines spark," I answered. "Then the room filled with smoke."
Joe gave me the okay to go home. If the fire department needed any more information, they'd be in touch.
My next call went to Kimber. I asked her to pick me up on a side street two blocks away, using the fire trucks and commotion as an excuse to get away from the Shack.
The few minutes I had to wait for her were agonizing. Roth and Luma hadn't seemed to be at the Smoothie Shack with any purpose in mind. Kids came from all over to hang out and play arcade games. Maybe they got lucky by showing up during my shift. Or—and this possibility shook me to the core—maybe coming to the Shack had been part of a deliberate strategy.
A block away, I spotted Kimber's car slowing at an intersection. In front of it, a black SUV picked up speed and ran the red light. Its front bumper was punched in, like it had been in an accident. The streetlights lit up the faces inside, giving me a flashing glimpse of the driver and copper-haired passenger. It was them. My body quaked when I read the license plate: WEOWNU.
We. Own. You.
*******
WEOWNU. I knew enough about the Mutila now to know that the license plate was a declaration of power. Once they captured you, you were under their control. Completely.
Still, I slept better that night than I had in a long time. I woke up ahead of my alarm, feeling calm. I had given the SUV's license plate information to Kimber, who gave it to Becca's dad, who was going to give it to the police. They were still trying to find out who ran into Becca's car. I hoped that when they tracked down the SUV and looked into its passengers, they'd find a rap sheet full of criminal activity and dump both of them in jail.
I felt looser and lighter than I had in weeks. On the way to school, I couldn't help but notice how the rising sun hovered right above Mount Hood, so that the mountain seemed to balance the bright yellow orb on its peak. The sun's colors washed into the clouds, like they were content to laze away the day there.