I thought maybe they could help.
They can’t. Stay away from them. They’re dangerous.
I didn’t care how dangerous they were. They could get me a Lucent Marble. You said they weren’t as bad as China.
No one was as bad as China. An image of Sam’s old apartment slipped into my mind. It confused me because I hadn’t been thinking of that place. Then an image of China and two guys sitting on a couch entered my mind. They were all arguing. All of their faces were screwed up in angry expressions. It was like I was sitting right next to them.
Then it hit me.
These weren’t my thoughts. They were Sam’s.
I was so closely linked with him that apparently I was seeing his thoughts. I hadn’t known that was possible. I pushed away my surprise and I tried to get a good look at the two roommates, but it was hard because Sam wasn’t looking at them or remembering them—he was looking at China. I tried turning his head to see the others, but it didn’t work that way. These were memories and they didn’t change.
Sam? I asked tentatively.
The memory faded but I was left with an idea. Yeah?
Do you know where your roommates went after you made them leave town?
It doesn’t matter. Another memory of the last day he saw them flashed through his mind. It was right after he killed China and we were walking through the woods. Both hellhounds showed up and Sam expected a fight. I could feel the anxiety Sam felt as he was worried how he would protect me against them. I tried to pay attention to their appearance, but all I could really note was that they both had dark hair and dark eyes. Beyond that, Sam barely registered them. He was too busy thinking about defending me and sending them on their way.
But there was something else, too.
A sadness. He once liked these guys. But they were too volatile, and having them around me was a gamble Sam wasn’t willing to take. So he forced them to leave.
The only people who truly understood what it was like to be a hellhound.
I barely noticed the tears that streaked my cheeks. He had given up so much for me. So much I hadn’t even known about. And now he was trapped in hell.
You have no idea where they went? I pushed.
They can’t help me, Heven. They wouldn’t. I know you’re only trying to help, but please just let it go. They’re dangerous.
Okay.
Yeah? Sam asked. I could hear the partial disbelief in his voice that I would agree so easily.
Yeah. You won’t let go of our link? I wiggled beneath the blanket, wanting closer to him, knowing it was impossible.
I promise.
I relaxed into him, concentrating on only him. If I really tried, I thought I could catch a hint of his deep scent.
Just the hint of his scent made me feel better than any nasty drink Gemma could concoct. I pushed back the guilt that crept into my mind. Guilt over the little peek I took into Sam’s mind.
Without knowing it, Sam had given me exactly what I had been hoping for. Just to be sure, I called up the image one last time before falling asleep. It came easily and I smiled.
That information wasn’t going anywhere. My photographic memory wouldn’t forget what I saw.
Chapter Three
Sam
Water at night is an abyss. It’s a never-ending blackness that one must push through, and though I’m the strongest swimmer possible, tonight I feel like my limbs cut through sand. Yes, I can see in this dark, murky water, but I don’t want to. I want to close my eyes off to what I just did, because it was horrible and wrong.
Yet, I would do it again.
Before pushing off the bottom of the lake, I glance back once more. Long blond strands of hair float out around a shockingly pale face. A face that was once beautiful, a body that was once full of life is now sentenced here in this wet world of shadows. Her only crime was that she looked like the girl I love.
Heavy with guilt, but full of determination, I push away from the body. As I go, ripples in the water cause it to shift and move. One of her hands seems to float out away from her, reaching toward me, almost pleading. Don’t leave me here. Don’t I deserve better in death?
Yes, she does.
But it’s too late for her.
I turn away.
My eyes opened and stared up at the black ceiling. So much darkness, so much shade. I could feel the tendrils of evil reach out to me. It was hard to concentrate, hard to feel when I was remembering the sinful things I’d done.
I sat up, brushing away those thoughts. The only way darkness would wrap itself around me was if I let it. I had too much to live for to let that happen.
But some of us weren’t that lucky. Some of us hadn’t survived. Like Andi. I kept thinking of her. I was being haunted, it seemed, by the things I’d done, the bad things. Whether it was the darkness’s way of taunting me, showing me that I do belong here, or my conscience trying to tell me to make amends, I don’t know. All I know was that it was increasingly harder to feel at peace with myself.
I felt unsettled. Guilty. Dirty.
There was a girl at the bottom of a lake because I dragged her there. Yes, China is the one who killed her, who defiled her body and took away her life. But how was I any better? I hadn’t allowed her one dignity in death. I sentenced her to a watery grave. An eternity of solitude and unrest. And what of her family? The police tagged her as a runaway and said she’d be back. But her family didn’t believe that. Her boyfriend didn’t believe that. I used to pretend to not see the hollow look in his eyes and the forlorn faces of her friends in the hallway at school.
She wouldn’t. They would whisper at school. Andi wouldn’t leave like that. She liked her life. She loved us.
The last weeks of watching Logan suffer, the sleepless nights, the gut-gnawing worry over his wellbeing… is that what her family felt every single day since that night? Does her mother go into her room and sit, wondering what happened to her child, knowing in her heart it was something bad?
I pushed myself to my feet and began to pace the confines of the cell.
When I stumbled over the body in the woods at Kimber’s party, grief like no other stole over me. I was blinded by rage, by despair, by denial. I thought Heven lay there broken and dead. I thought I failed her. Then, when I realized it wasn’t my Heven, I was so relieved I wanted to do everything I could to keep something like that from actually happening to her. So I did it. I dragged the body into the lake.
I never thought about Andi. I never thought about her family and the fact they would never know a moment’s peace. It was wrong. I was wrong.
When I got out of here, I was going to fix it.
Heven
Fresh sea air took over my senses and tore my hair out of the confines of the band that struggled to hold it back. I pushed at it impatiently and turned to watch the city of Portland get farther away. Peaks Island was only two miles away from Portland, which took fifteen minutes to travel by ferry. I got lucky and arrived just as a ferry was about to depart, so I didn’t have to sit at the docks and wait.
I thought this was a good sign.
Considering how rough the earlier portion of my day had been, I felt relieved.
I looked out across the sea… The waving, dark water made me remember the slight panic I woke up in earlier. I think I had been dreaming about dark, choking water. And regret. But Sam had been there, our link holding strong, vanishing my might-have-been dream and moody feelings. It was hard to get out of bed. I would’ve liked to lay there and talk with him all evening and into the morning. But that wasn’t an option. I had a lead. A lead that not even a slight fever would keep me from chasing.
Getting away from Cole and Gemma had proved harder than I thought. They were both still pretty concerned about me and didn’t want to let me out of sight. It only got worse when I refused to tell them where I was headed.
But I was stubborn and wasn’t about to be held back.
Gemma was the one who finally relented and talked Cole do
wn from his overbearing, big brother mood. Although she never said, Gemma seemed to understand a lot of what I was going through. It made me wonder, and not for the first time, what was in her past. Whatever it was changed her, shaped her into the person she was today. What had she been like before? Had she been like me? Is that why she stuck around and offered to train Sam how to fight and share with us the wealth of knowledge she carried?
I shook my head, clearing my thoughts and turned my face toward the wind, imagining it blowing away all unnecessary thought. It didn’t matter why Gemma was helping us, just that she was. And it didn’t matter I was going to have to deal with Cole’s anger when I saw him again.
Peaks Island was drawing very near and my pulse sped up. I tried to remind myself this might be a dead end, that I might not get what I wanted. But I couldn’t seem to calm myself.
Then I remembered how I got here. Guilt weighed a lot and it brought me crashing down.
I stole the information right out of Sam’s head. He hadn’t even realized what was happening. And I hadn’t told him. To be fair, I didn’t really understand how I managed to see his thoughts—his memories. I only prayed he could forgive me when he found out.
The ferry docked and a few minutes went by before I could get off. I left Sam’s truck back on the mainland, choosing to ride over and then travel on foot. When I stepped onto the wooden dock, I looked up and really noticed the island for the first time.
Peaks Island was part of Maine, one of the two hundred twenty-two islands that made up Casco Bay. It was one of the most populated islands along the coast and it was breathtakingly beautiful. From every angle the place looked like it belonged on a post card. It probably was.
Not far from the dock were charming cobblestone streets that paved the way toward lively summer attractions. It was nearing eight so there wouldn’t be much daylight left, but I wasn’t worried. I had a feeling what I was after preferred the dark.
Because it was summer, the streets were busier than I expected. I looked around, wondering where I should begin. Museums, art galleries, various shops, boating and fishing rentals all lined the quaint streets. It was so utterly beautiful and charming here that I got swept up in the moment and closed my eyes, pretending Sam and I were here together with no other purpose but to have fun.
Then someone bumped into me from behind and I snapped out of it. I wandered along the streets for a while, stopping to browse in a few shops and store windows. All the while I scanned the crowd.
I wasn’t even sure if I would know when I found what I wanted.
Soon, the sun set and it was dark. There was lighting on the streets, but not enough to completely illuminate everything, and for the first time, I began to doubt my plan. What if the memory I saw in Sam’s mind was too old and no longer useful? I closed my eyes and called the image to my mind to study it.
Sam was standing in his old apartment, the one he shared with China and two other hellhounds. Except China was dead and his roommates had left town at his request. I was pretty sure this particular memory was from the day Sam and I went to clear out the place so he could move into his new efficiency. The bedroom around him was bare from when they cleared out all their stuff.
But they left something behind.
A hastily scrawled note.
Someone left it laying in the center of the bare mattress.
There was only one thing written on it. It was a place. Peaks Island.
When I asked Sam if he knew where they went, he said no, but this is the image that popped into his head. His roommates might have left, but they hadn’t gone far and they had told Sam where they would be. Why had they told him? Why didn’t Sam tell me?
Yes, Sam lied to me, but I didn’t care. He was only trying to protect me. After all, I had lied to him for the same reasons. When I opened my eyes, the streets seemed a little more vacant than before and I wondered how long I had been standing there. I walked a little more, intently studying the faces of everyone who passed, to no avail.
There were no hellhounds here.
Feeling completely deflated, I turned to make my way back to the ferry, hoping I hadn’t missed the last shuttle back to the main land. It never occurred to me to check the schedule. A large fishing boat had just docked for the day and I could hear the rowdy group of workers as they laughed and hauled the fresh oysters and lobsters onto the deck of the boat. I don’t know why, but I walked past the ferry boat toward the fishing boat. I grabbed the strap of my bag and held it tightly as if it would anchor me.
The closeness of the sea was starting to get to me. I hated the water. The one time Sam tried to teach me to swim and be comfortable around water, it had ended in me being attacked by a red-eyed demon (who I later found out was Beelzebub) who broke into my head, leaving behind a thread so he could stalk me in my dreams.
I still wasn’t sure that thread was gone. Well, the one Sam destroyed was gone, but then Beelzebub told us he left behind more than one. How many, I didn’t know and since sending Beelzebub into a pit of churning flames wasn’t enough to kill him, I was left wondering when he would reclaim his place inside my head and begin torturing me again.
A huge, wet mesh bag flung through the air and landed with a solid thud at my feet, startling me and I jumped back automatically, getting into a crouch, ready to pounce. I couldn’t see what was in the bag because it was so dark here away from most of the streetlights, but from the smell, I would say it was probably a bag of seafood. More laughter sounded and one of the men on the boat leapt over the side, landing in front of me. The bag lay between us and I wondered about its weight and if I would be able to lift it and throw it at him.
“Look what we got here,” he called.
I didn’t relax my stance because that’s what he wanted me to do. He thought he could intimidate me into dropping my guard. Little did he know that Beelzebub made him look like the tooth fairy.
“I was looking for someone, but it’s clear he isn’t here,” I said loudly, confidently.
“I can be whoever you’re looking for.”
I started walking away, backward, keeping my eyes on the man. Then another jumped down behind me. If I went to either side, I’d go off the dock into the black water. That was not an option. I turned so my back was to the water and I could see both men.
Because it was dark, I couldn’t make out much other than they were both big, smelled, and thought they were tough. Slowly, I slid my hand down the strap of my bag, allowing it to disappear inside.
“Why don’t you come on up to the boat and we’ll show you around.” The man to my left said.
“No.”
The man to my right was farthest away and he casually stepped over the bag of seafood. When he moved, so did the man to my left—lunging at me, trying to catch me by surprise. I pulled my hand out of my bag and plunged the dagger into the man’s leg. He screamed and fell to his knees. I turned and hit him dead-on, which sent him spiraling into the sea.
I turned toward the remaining guy and held up the dagger, darkened with blood. The man stood in front of me, his eyes bouncing between me and the water to my right. Then he glanced at the dagger.
“What’s a little girl like you doing carrying around such a thing?”
I sensed some movement behind me and wrapped both my arms across my chest just as two vice-like arms closed around me. Instantly, I threw both my arms down, loosening the hold the man had on me. He released me, trying not to get caught by the dagger’s blade. I dropped onto the dock floor and crawled through the surprised man’s legs. He grabbed hold of my foot and I turned, lashing out with the dagger. The man cried out and yanked his bloodied hand back.
“You’re crazy!” the man yelled hysterically.
I jumped to my feet and watched as he backed away. The other man was helping his buddy out of the water while trying to keep an eye on me. He was stupid. I caught him off-guard and sent him into the water right next to his friend.
The entire crew on the boat was standin
g around, silently gazing down at the scene. Clearly, they’d come to the conclusion I wasn’t as innocent as they thought. I backed away from them, keeping my body tense, the dagger visible until their images faded and I heard them scrambling to help their buddies back on the boat.
Only then did I let out a relieved breath of air. The ferry was loading passengers and I hurried on, checking behind me to make sure I wasn’t followed. As I boarded, I held the dagger between myself and my bag so no one would wonder what I was doing with such a wicked-looking weapon. I could have put it away, but I wouldn’t have felt safe. There were only a few passengers because it was getting late, so it wasn’t hard to find a spot that was completely empty. I chose a seat away from the railing of the boat, placing my back to one of the walls that made up the little room where the captain steered the boat. The bench was hard beneath me, damp and cold. I pushed away the discomfort and looked again at the way I came, making sure no one followed.
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