Blood in the Shadows

by Stephanie Keyes

  Owen rests his head back against the sofa, his eyes shifting in the direction of the mantle over the fireplace. There are pictures there, dozens of them. I don't know why I didn't notice before. Owen actually seems to be smiling in some of them. Everyone in the family had the same haunting blue eyes as Owen. Eyes that led me to first mistake Owen for Balen.

  "There used to be dozens of us, but..." He stands, taking all of his warmth with him. "My parents were too late to save Molly. She didn't make it." His foot thumps on the wood floor. Is he burning off energy or does he want this conversation to be over? "Neither did they."

  I shake my head, but it suddenly all makes sense. The quiet in this house, the lack of furniture. "Owen, I—"

  "It’s just me now. My Grandparents died a couple of months ago, but my parents, aunt, and uncle died the day Balen took Molly. They died saving you. I guess that's why I grew up hating you." He closes his eyes.

  Ice creeps over my skin. Owen's family died trying to save Molly and me.

  It's kind of hard to make a comeback from something like that.

  CHAPTER TEN

  It's Not Just Me

  If I didn't know any better, I'd swear my throat just sealed up. Like someone dumped a tube of super-glue down it. Owen turns away, his attention seeming wholly focused on a single brick on the fireplace. Anywhere, but on me.

  Can I actually crawl under this blanket and hide there? For the rest of my life, maybe? Owen hates me. Tears sting my eyes. No. No more crying. I'm not a wimp. I won't be a wimp in front of him anymore.

  Sighing, I stand and move to the door. "I'm sorry. About your parents. They shouldn't have wasted their efforts on me. Maybe I should just go?"

  "My parents didn't consider their efforts a waste."

  I stop in my tracks, then turn back to face him. He's closer than I realized. "Yeah, but you sure do." Again, the words are out of my mouth and down the road before I can stop them.

  "Maybe I did, once? But now." He steps even closer, reaching up like he's going to touch my cheek. My stomach drops. He let his hand fall instead. "That was before I met you. Before you told me you wanted to help Balen, to save his people."

  I bite down on my bottom lip.

  "Jem. Don't you know? I kissed you because..." He seems closer. Did he move again? "I kissed you because I wanted to. Because you're different from every other girl I've met."

  "I am?" Oh.

  "Yeah. You're different. A good different." Our toes touch. He's so close his scent burns my nostrils, stinging them like the bitter cold air of winter.

  Owen moves in before I can think to stop him. And then he kisses me.

  At first, the touch of his lips against mine is feather-light, sending a shockwave of chills crashing through me. He whispers kisses over my face. His lips leave a trail of fire in their wake that sends my body thrumming.

  Somehow I'm drawn to him, as though there's an invisible rope binding us together, reeling us toward one another. He runs his tongue along my lips, coaxing them open. It's gentle, it's innocent. And then it isn't. There's a beat of time before I open my mouth against his, inviting him in.

  "Jemma." Owen whispers my name with reverence.

  Soon we're meeting in a clash of teeth and tongues and heat. I run my hands through his short-cropped hair. It's corn-silk between my fingers. His arms slip around me, pulling me roughly against him. My ankle twists. I gasp.

  Owen breaks our kiss. "You all right?" he asks, a little breathless. “I’m sorry. You’re hurt. You should sit.”

  "I’m fine." I lean toward him again, bumping noses with him as I initiate another kiss.

  He lifts me up against him, more careful this time. His mouth seeks out mine and I meet it. Owen grips my side. I can't imagine going back to where I was, to how it was before Owen touched his toes to mine and told me he wanted to kiss me.

  And then somewhere, in the back of my mind, I hear a scream. It curdles like milk, spilling into my consciousness and tearing through my soul. Something inside of me snaps, like a branch being broken in two.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I Should've Seen It Coming

  One moment I'm as close to Heaven as I've ever been, the next it sounds like I'm in the center of hell. I cry out as the screams fill my head, just as they did before on the bridge.

  Owen jerks back, breaking our kiss. "What's wrong?"

  "Didn't you hear the screaming?" My head still pounds, just as my heart still slams in my chest from Owen's mouth on mine.

  He steps back, a grim smile on his face. "Finally. That'll be the last bit of the poison leaving your system. Bye-bye psychic connection to Balen."

  "Wha-what?" My brain fights to clear the fog inside it.

  "I needed to get him out of your system. I just didn't know it would be so fun."

  I touch my hands to my lips as his words sink in. "You bastard."

  Owen frowns and holds up his hands. "You don't understand, Jemma."

  I shake my head. "You really do hate me, don't you? All the crap about your family's mission and you didn't mean any of it, did you? You just wanted to get rid of Balen."

  Though there's a part of me that's soaring, feeling free with the realization that I'm back to controlling myself one hundred percent, Owen's words sting. Especially, after what just happened between us.

  "I—" A rattling at the window cuts him off. Owen moves to open it, but I can read his response in his expression. He was just doing his job. He doesn't really want me.

  When Owen opens the window, a bird is perched on the sill—a pigeon from the looks of it.

  I strain to glimpse outside. The sky is a bitter black. I can't make out anything. Except for the strip of paper Owen is untying from the bird's leg. Really? Who gets mail from a pigeon?

  He pulls the paper free and shoos the bird away. Shutting the window, he holds the letter up to the light. Alarm crosses Owen's face. "You'd better read this."

  I accept the paper from him. A lead ball of fear drops into my stomach as I read:

  I have your Shaz. Come to me, Jemma.

  "Oh my God. He has Shaz." It's just like before. Like Molly.

  "Here." Owen offers me a cell phone. "Call her. Make sure it's not a trick. I mean, it's definitely a trick, but just check." The concern in Owen's expression is almost convincing enough to make me think he cares. Oh, but I know better now. I'm not going to fall for Owen and his fake kisses again.

  I snatch the phone from him. With shaky hands, I dial Shaz's number. Every unanswered ring plunges my heart deeper into my stomach. "Shaz always answers her phone. I can't remember a time when she didn't." I try again and again with the same result.

  "Damn." Owen shakes his head. "I don't know what's going on with him. He's only ever taken children. Why does he want you so badly after all these years?"

  Hurt lances my heart as I end the call and hand over the phone. "I know. Really hard to believe anyone would want me, right?"

  "Jemma. If you knew—"

  "If I knew, I probably wouldn't care."

  I'd thought differently, but only for a moment. Now, I know my first instinct was right. Owen is a jerk. Worse, all the time I'd been making out with him, Shaz was being kidnapped. "None of this matters. I need to save my friend."

  Owen runs a hand through his hair. "Fine, but if we're going to search for Balen, you do everything I say. No questions asked, okay?" Owen scowls.

  I don't want to accept his help, but there is no one else who has a chance at stopping Balen. "Fine. And then when it's all over you can go back to hating me." I know my words sound spiteful, but the recollection of his mouth on mine, the way I responded to him combined with his shitty attitude has driven me there. I just want this over so I can get as far away from him as possible.

  Owen clears his throat. "Yeah. That's definitely what I want," he says. Is it my imagination or is there a little less conviction in his voice?

  My ankle throbs, but it's nothing compared to the ache in my heart, the one Owen put
there.

  I don't want to do this. Don't want to face Balen and have the horror of that night come back to me. Yet, all I know is, I lost one best friend once.

  I'm not about to lose another.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  At Last

  It's strange. Ever since we moved to the city, I've thought of our old house as huge. Almost a mansion. Now that I'm standing in front of it, it's obvious it's the definition of normal: a split level, two-car garage, with a generous backyard. The neighbors are spread further apart here, unlike at our loft in the city, where they're practically on top of you.

  Now, here I am, standing in the driveway, staring up at a house that's no longer mine.

  "Remember, Jemma. If Balen's out of the picture, the trees are just trees. With him? They become almost human in their thinking and can channel his magick. Try and stay in the open, don't let him lead you out of the clearing."

  "Fine, and what are you—" But when I glance back, I find Owen's already hidden. Somehow this makes me feel lonely. Even lonelier than the day Molly disappeared.

  The lights are out in the house. The full moon hanging low over the property bathes it in a halo of creepiness. Should I ring the doorbell? Warn the people living here now? No, they're probably better off not knowing, not being involved in the drama that dominated the life of the girl who once lived in their home.

  Grass crunches under my sneakers as I make my way around the side of the house. Locating the concrete steps, I limp up the ten steps to the top of the hill and walk to the entrance to the woods that border our property. I press my clammy palms onto the outside of my jeans.

  Part of me is jumpy, excited. I'm going to see Balen. The one who's watched me for so many years. The one who's waited for me. Yeah, he's a messed up tree guardian or whatever the hell he is, but still I've dreamed of this moment.

  Now those same feelings are jumbled up in a mixture of terror and confusion. Why is he doing this? Why did he take Shaz? What does he want with me? Does he just want my blood? Want my life?

  "Jemma. At last."

  Chills slam through me as I turn to find Balen beside me. Where'd he come from? He's exactly as I remember him, only older. Now my age. He's even dressed the same way I am, in jeans and a sweater, though it's tough to make out the color in the dark. Green? The moonlight glimmers off of his golden hair. His skin is pale, flawless. He's beautiful.

  No. I'm not going to let him get inside my head again. I'm done letting boys think they can control me. "Where's Shaz?" I try and make my voice sound firm, like the ice running through Owen's veins.

  "Oh, that childish friend of yours? I don't have her. It was rather ingenious of me to make you think I did, wasn't it? And here we are at last."

  Crap. Why didn't Shaz pick-up when I called? Still, I shake with relief. She's okay. Shaz is okay. She's not Molly.

  "This is what I've wanted all along, anyway. To have you—by my side." He says the last three words as though they're an oversight.

  Where is Owen? I search the trees, but can't make out any distinguishable shapes. Stalling seems like the way to go. "And what do you want with me?" I hold my head high. No way am I letting him see my fear.

  "When you were a child, you worried about me. You left me food and provisions, tried to find me, to help. You showed compassion. I've never forgotten such kindness." Something flickers in his eyes. "Thank you."

  Huh. "Well, you're welcome."

  "Ever since, I've wanted to be in your company. I spent a decade frozen, unable to move my body. My mind, on the other hand, could think freely. It imagined the young woman you would become." He steps closer. It doesn't feel the same as with Owen. It's like he's trying to cage me. "Now, I see what a beauty you are." He strokes my cheek, his fingers coarse sandpaper against my skin.

  Where the hell is Owen? I sneak a glance behind me.

  "Are you looking for the other one? I know he's here. He's not for you. He's cold, Jem. I can make your body burn." Balen's voice smolders, compelling me to meet his gaze. "Imagine the passion we will create, the life we will have."

  I may have just puked in my own mouth.

  I don't want him to know the thoughts barreling through my mind. What if Owen doesn't come? Will I survive this? I may never see my friends or family again. "You said you were imprisoned. Frozen."

  He lets his hand drop, then thankfully takes a small step back. A small one, but it's better than nothing. "Yes. You'll be pleased to know I destroyed many of my enemies before they were able to imprison me. Their powers are not what they once were."

  Anger shoots through me. That's Owen's family Balen's talking about. "You're responsible for their deaths?"

  His expression changes and in an instant he seems contrite. "Something I regret every day, dearest Jem. Family matters do have a way of escalating. It's also not as if I didn't warn them." For all of his magick and his old ways, Balen seems more like a politician. A big fat phony.

  But then my brain latches on to something he said. "Family matters. What are you talking about?"

  "He's talking about how he destroyed his own flesh and blood for power. How he's destroyed his own family, generations of their children for this, whatever it is." Owen's voice cuts into the clearing.

  Thank God. It's about time he showed up.

  "Come on, Jem. Don't tell me you can't see the family resemblance?" Owen asks.

  I remember how I'd mistaken Owen for Balen that first day in the coffee shop, then dismissed it. "Your eyes." My voice sounds weak.

  So the boy I've been trusting this entire time...the boy I kissed like a maniac...the boy who's my only chance at a rescue, is related to the creature who killed my best friend.

  If that's not messed up, I don't know what is.

  "I thought you had the same eyes as—as him." Now that I know Balen's name, I don't want to use it.

  "That's where the similarity ends. Not all of the Augustines are power-hungry monsters. Actually, I can only think of one." Owen jabs a finger in Balen's direction.

  Balen seems completely comfortable with this accusation. "Come with me Jemma. Be mine." He reaches for me and the sensation of ants running across my skin overwhelms me.

  Get out. Get out of the woods, Jemma, before it's too late. Molly's warning from long-ago sounds in my head like a fourth person in our group.

  "No." I step back. "You killed my friend. You're taking blood. From kids. Killing them."

  Balen laughs. "And you think this is what I want? What I would have chosen for myself? It's the price I've been forced to pay for power."

  "But they're children. Wouldn't you rather do anything other than hurt them?" I ask. Tears sting my eyes. I blink them away. I will not cry.

  "Why? Do you presume these children are more important than me?" He scowls. "Besides, do their parents really want them? The children are abused. They come to me."

  "Only because you compel them too." I whisper the words, though he still seems to hear me just fine. "They want love and attention. But your promises aren’t real."

  He takes another step in my direction. I can almost feel Owen tense beside me. "Foolish little girls should stay away from strangers in the woods. Of course, damaged little girls are extremely easy to convince. Just throw an offer of friendship their way and..." Balen grins.

  My face heats. So all this time I've been thinking about Balen, dreaming about him, and this is how he sees me. This is how he's seen all of us.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Challenge

  Owen steps in beside me, his hand on my arm. Despite my simmering dislike for him, his touch stirs up a pot of emotions inside my head—everything from nervousness to anger and others in-between.

  "Thanks for the trip down memory lane. Really, it's been incredible. You're not answering the bigger question, though. Why Jemma? Why now?" Owen asks. "She's far from being a child. She's not nearly as innocent. That’s why you seek out the children. They're pure."

  Balen throws out his arm, his
fingers pointing in Owen's direction. "My family has given me plenty of time to consider things. I've had years to think about Jemma, to dream about her, to want her."

  Gross.

  Black veins raise against his skin, traveling down the length of his arm into his fingers. There's a crackling sound and the familiar smell of burnt timber as Balen's arm morphs into a tree branch. He whips it in Owen's direction. Owen ducks.

  "You know you can't fight me. It's been how long since you had blood?" Owen asks.

  Balen's eyes flare. "Too long. With Jemma by my side, I will find new sources. She will help me to become greater, stronger than I am."

  Owen moves in behind me as he talks. "Yeah, that's the thing, Balen. I've already marked Jemma as my own."

  Ew. That sounded even more gross. Like he's a dog or something. I'm about to say as much, but I clamp my lips shut.

  Balen laughs. "You're an Augustine. You would never use such old, love magick. It is too, what is the word you use these days? Unethical?"

  My heart lodges in my throat.

  "Then maybe I'm not the type of Augustine you remember? You know how the spell works—if you take her from me without my releasing her, she'll die. I know you've felt your hold on her shatter." Owen slides his arm around me and a band of heat follows the trail.

  Die? Did Owen really put some sort of weird spell on me? I resist putting distance between us. It doesn't matter if he's the biggest jerk on the planet, he’s my only shot at getting home. Once I'm there, I'll tell him where to shove his spell—

  "You wouldn't want to lose her, would you?" Owen whips out that smirk again. The one that ticks me off.

  Balen's entire face alters from casual interest to pure evil. His eyes glow red, black lines raise on his skin.

  "Of course, we could always hold a test." Owen sounds as cocky as he looks.

  "Go on." Balen's eyes calm and return to the blue I remember.

  "I kiss her. You kiss her. We'll see who she responds to." Owen shrugs. "If it's me, you find another victim. If it's you, you can have her and you two can go off and have little saplings or whatever it is you have planned."