Even with my newly acquired strength, my arms still screamed with fatigue as I made my way down the hall following dismissal.
“You’d think being invisible would have its perks in high school, but you know what? It still sucks,” remarked Reese, crashing his frame into the locker beside mine as I lifted up my exhausted arm to dial in my combo.
“Uh-oh, High School Hell got you down?” I whispered.
“You know, the word ‘hell’ is applied far too liberally these days, yet here it is quite appropriate.”
“I hear ya’. But I imagine things can’t be too hard for the likes of you. You know, considering that you apparently know everything,” I jabbed.
“I only store things of relevance up here,” he chuckled, tapping on the side of his head. “And I can guarantee you, eighty percent of what you learn from a school desk will never be applied to your life once you’re out in the real world.”
“So I take it you won’t be lending me a hand with my Calculus homework then?”
“Sorry, tangent half-angle formulas don’t come in handy when you’re trying to restore the balance between good and evil. It rarely ever requires mathematical skills.”
“What a jip,” I chortled.
“Asshole!” exclaimed Camille Browning. The curly haired brunette stampeded over to Trace Bolton and hurled his letterman’s jacket at him as he stood about ten lockers down from us talking with his friends.
“Cam?” He managed to collect the coat in his grasp before it hit the floor.
“Stay the hell away from me,” she demanded, turning around and walking away.
“Hey!” He lobbed the jacket over to Nate and followed after her. “What is your problem?”
“You’re an asshole; that’s my problem,” she clarified. “The fact that I was dating you up until twenty seconds ago used to be one as well, but, thankfully, it no longer is.”
He just looked at her confusedly. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m dumping your ass, Trace,” Camille said, almost proudly. “I don’t date douche bags that cheat on me with my best friend!”
“Oh, so that’s what everyone was talking about first hour,” remarked Reese softly. “You know, apart from the murder and all.”
“I didn’t hear this one,” I said.
“Apparently, she had thrown a party at her house this past weekend, and someone recorded a video of Bolton, I suspect, getting down with a cheerleader, who obviously wasn’t her,” said Reese, pointing to Camille.
“Babe, just calm down,” said Trace, cutting in front of her.
“You slept with her!” Camille whirled back around and proceeded in the other direction.
“Yeesh…” Reese and I both winced.
“Look, we were both drunk, okay? It didn’t mean anything,” defended Bolton, rather indifferently.
“It meant something to me!” She finally turned and confronted him, the two of them right in front of us. “You cheated on me. It’s that simple.”
He rolled his eyes.
“And look at you,” she scoffed. “You don’t even care!”
“Cam-”
“You are such an idiot!”
“You’re really blowing this outta proportion.”
“Oh yeah? Spell ‘proportion,’” she challenged.
Bolton didn’t respond.
“My point exactly.” She stomped away, leaving the hallway behind her to buzz about in gossipy whispers. “Moron.”
“She was a better lay than you anyway!” he shot back, almost with a laugh.
Camille simply raised her middle finger, not even turning back to give him the satisfaction. Carly made her way through the crowd toward me, still gawking with the rest of the spectators.
“What the hell is going on around here? It’s like the freaking Twilight Zone,” she whispered. “Those two have been practically joined at the hip since freshman year. There’s gotta be something in the water, because everyone’s been arguing. Even Kevin and Angela broke up.”
“What are you lookin’ at, chief?” Bolton suddenly throttled a scrawny freshman against the lockers as the poor kid tried to discreetly slink past Trace.
I slammed my locker shut and prepared to move in to intervene, seeing Bolton ready to strike again. Reese swooped in though, grabbing hold of Bolton’s arm just as the jock started driving it toward the freshman. He redirected its target, sending Trace’s fist right into the locker beside the kid’s head. The freshman yelped at the near impact and took off down the hall like a rocket as Trace whirled around.
“You got a problem there, freak?” barked the jock, unfazed by the devastating blow as he yanked his knuckles out of the now-dented locker face.
“Holy crap,” blurted Carly.
Trace took another swing, this time directed at Reese’s face. It came as no surprise that the magician quickly deflected it, quickly grabbing hold of the extended arm. He forced it just enough in an unnatural angle that it threatened to break, but he thankfully didn’t apply further pressure.
Reese focused his eyes on the jock as he stepped right in front of him, pushing him up against the dented locker. “How about you run off to the weightlifting room, work your hostility off on an actual punching bag, aye?”
Trace’s face fell neutral, his frame slackening. “Whatever.”
Reese released his hold, and Trace shoved past, purposely knocking shoulders with the magician to throw him off balance. Reese didn’t budge.
“Damn, talk about a knight in shining armor,” sighed Carly as Reese returned to my side. Was that…admiration I saw? “That kid’s face would’ve been a crater if you hadn’t stepped in.”
“Someone was bound to intervene. I just got there first.” He casually shrugged, pulling his hat off to run a hand through his hair. I’d come to learn that was his telltale sign. Anytime he was either anxious or lying, he instinctively had to touch his hair.
The moment the incident started, everyone, including Trace’s own friends, backed off. There was no way anyone else was going to come to that kid’s rescue, and he knew it. A new knot formed in my stomach as I parted ways with the pair. I made my way upstairs to head to my next class, only to find Adam already waiting there for me.
Before I even approached, he pushed off the lockers and nodded over to the adjacent hallway.
“I take it you heard the news,” I muttered dryly, following after him.
“Yeah, and it gets worse,” he said lowly, handing over his phone.
He wasn’t kidding.
***
I found Reese sitting on top of a cafeteria table as I followed in the procession of students flocking towards the gym. Principal Harris had ordered a mandatory assembly, in which the Sheriff was set to speak. Considering word of mouth, I figured Blackburn was invisible to the rest of our classmates. Everyone walked right past him without a blink of an eye, all the while speculating further on Ava’s earlier assessment. Yep, Reese was now Prime Suspect Number One in the court of public opinion.
“We’ve got another problem,” I whispered, pulling him clean off the tabletop. “Another girl, asides from Casey, was killed last night. A jogger came across her earlier this morning. In the woods, drained of blood. And it gets worse.”
“Of course it does,” he groaned, ruffling a hand through his hair. “What now? Is a hundred foot marshmallow man attacking the city?”
“The girl was one of the cheerleaders that vanished from the Hersey bus. Felicia Coldwater. Whoever did this kept her for over two weeks before they decided to kill her.”
“Hellhound?” he suggested. “Maybe another Reaper found her-”
I shook my head. “Her throat was slit, and there weren’t any stab wounds to her heart. They already got the coroner’s initial report. She wasn’t branded.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Your run-of-the-mill demon only goes after humans to possess them, and a Hellhound would have ripped her apart to make it look like an animal attack.”
&nb
sp; “The kicker: there were occult symbols found on site.”
His eyes narrowed. “Where did you hear all this?”
“Adam.” I handed over my phone, showing him an image from the crime scene. “That’s the girl from my vision.”
Reese’s eyes widened all the more. “You sure?”
“Positive. And the time of death was yesterday evening, an entire day after I had the vision. That’s not astral projection. That’s…”
“A premonition.”
“Adam’s dad wasn’t able to identify the symbols they found, but he thought maybe you could. Have you seen these before?”
Reese grimaced at the photo, and I didn’t blame him. The poor girl was sprawled out on the mud, her once white nightgown caked in muck and filth and blood. Vacant eyes bore up at the sky, still widened in a primitive state of sheer and utter terror. He took a long drag, trying to focus his attention on the one particular symbol drawn up around her.
It appeared to have been constructed from a bunch of pale rocks and some loose tree branches, making up a weird twisted symbol inside a star-encrusted pentagram.
“It’s a dark sigil of some sort. You can’t really make out the engravings,” he said, zooming in the photo as far as he could. “Looks like a…diamond, maybe.”
“There’s something else.” I took out the folded missing person’s flyer from my pocket and handed it over. “He look familiar?”
“Travis Freeman?” he read.
“Another student from the Hersey bus disappearance.”
Reese studied the picture for a long minute, only to shrug.
“Imagine him with blonde hair.”
The paper fell from his limp fingers. “The Hellhound from the alley.”
“There’s still eighteen of those students missing, and seven more of them I recognized from my vision in the woods. If the rest have been turned…” I couldn’t finish the thought.
More questions clawed at my insides, begging me to voice them. It felt like playing mental double-dutch. I kept waiting for the opportunity to jump in and ask, but I just couldn’t find the right moment.
“What happened between you and the guy outside the theater?” I suddenly blurted.
Reese’s left brow arched in its trademark fashion, as if a hook pulled it up whilst his other brow remained perfectly flat. “I’m sorry?”
“The night we met…or I guess the morning after,” I clarified. “And don’t play dumb. What was he?”
He ran a hand over his face before ruffling it through his hair. I’d clearly struck a chord. “Hellhound.”
“Did you kill him?” I murmured, happy that no one else was in ear shot.
Reese nodded. “Right after I left you.”
“What happened between…us?”
His back stiffened.
“It’s not like I expected for you and me to become besties overnight, and I know you don’t like my friends. But that shouldn’t have stopped us from at least hanging out. I mean, you pulled a complete 180 on me. You went from being the nicest guy in town, only to turn into the Abominable Asshat. Why?”
He backed away until his back rested against the wall, his features hardening. “When I followed that thing into the alley, I learned a little too late that he wasn’t alone. If there’s one thing demons and Hellhounds alike enjoy more than anything, it’s killing and torturing their prey. And doing so to someone like me is pretty much their equivalent to Christmas morning. It’s not just about causing the victim physical pain. They want to make you suffer in every way imaginable. And the guy that saw us together outside the theater thought it would be particularly amusing if he went back and snatched you up. I won’t go into further detail about what they all planned to do next.”
The lump in my throat expanded to the size of a softball. “But you killed them…”
“I’m scrappier than I look.” Reese tried to smile, but the effort never made it past his lips. “Despite my good fortune, that morning still served as a sour reminder. When you’re like us, anyone you care about becomes a potential target. It doesn’t matter if they’re your friend or even just the sweet old lady next door. If you care about their wellbeing, they’ll have a bull’s-eye on their back.
“And you were the first person I’d met in a long time that was genuinely nice. Everyone else around here is either afraid of me or they just think I’m a freak. Talking to you was easy. And that’s exactly why I knew I needed to keep my distance. We wouldn’t have just been casual acquaintances. I wanted more than that. And it would’ve been really selfish of me. You didn’t deserve to be hurt like that, so I did what I could to stay away.”
“And the reason for being such an ass…?”
“When it was obvious I couldn’t avoid you completely, I figured I needed a different game plan. You were still really nice, and I knew I’d end up in the same problem if I didn’t do something to keep you at arm’s length. It felt really shitty saying the things I said to you, but it had to be done.” Reese slumped back, half laughing at himself. “But what the hell do I know? You were with Reynolds for how long, and nothing happened to you…at least not until after you broke up.”
“Hey, get a move on, the both of you,” ordered Mr. Abrams on arrival, shooing us out of the cafeteria and into the gym. The conversation had clearly caught Reese off guard if he’d unknowingly dropped the veil keeping him invisible.
Carly waved to us from one of the upper decks of the bleachers, signaling for us to join the group. Daniel seemed neutral to the idea, but once Vanessa and Eric noticed who I was with, their expressions turned sour. Car just shook her head, mouthing, “ignore them.”
“It’s okay,” I mouthed back, taking hold of Reese’s hand. Now, Mark looked like he was about to have a stroke, with V and Eric not far behind. I pulled Blackburn back toward the cafeteria entrance where we took our seats in the second row of the stands.
There were a handful of officers already standing on the half-court line, waiting for everyone to settle down. Mrs. Harvey provided them a microphone, and the gym quieted the instant the Sheriff stepped forward. He didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know, and he didn’t seem too keen on answering any questions. Afterward, Dr. Fritz suggested we take the time to express any feelings or concerns we had, which opened the floodgates. Attention whores like Ava Ashford jumped at the opportunity to have center stage, as they all tried to do their best Sunday School impressions, leading us in a variety of prayers.
Reese just shook his head. “I swear. Any moment now, one of them is gonna burst into flames.”
Casey’s legitimate friends finally got their turns to speak, and it wasn’t pretty.
Lucy Cartwright entered into a hyperventilated state, her words nearly indistinguishable as she started squeaking out high pitch cries. Just when it seemed like it couldn’t get any more painful, Ava returned to center court.
“I really think it would be appropriate that we have a moment of silence in recognition for our dearly departed classmates,” she declared, swiping the microphone away from the last speaker. Lucy and the others who had spoken looked just as appalled by the apathy, considering the nicest thing Ava ever said to Casey was probably along the lines of, “You’re in my way, bee-otch.”
“To Casey.” Ava paused, looking right at me. Her lip twitched ever so slightly with wicked intent. “And to Blaine, who was taken from us—so needlessly.”
Sure enough, surrounding eyes began burning a hole in the back of my head, igniting a pleasing smile Ava tried (and failed) to repress.
When I was changing into my gym clothes for P.E. yesterday, I’d overheard Ava Ashford’s posse talking about me like I’d murdered Blaine right in front of everybody and laughed about it. You’d think nearly dying—or in my case, actually dying—would earn a girl a little compassion around here. Instead, I was being treated like I was Ted freaking Bundy.
Everybody finally lowered their heads as the gym fell silent.
A shrill screech echoed fr
om the hallway right by us, and I pitched my hands over my ears at the awful noise. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard, only amplified. I looked at Reese to see his gaze focused on the open doorway. We both looked around, seeing not one other person paying any mind to the racket. And that meant one thing: trouble.
Reese rose to his feet, ready to climb down the bleachers when I grabbed his hand.
He looked down at me curiously. “What?” he mouthed.
I nodded to the other end of the gym.
The ends of a long, tattered cloak gathered at the ankles of the lanky figure looming in the other open doorway. A large hood drew over this person’s head, but I knew it wasn’t the creep who’d attacked me before…unless he’d ripped off all the skin from his hands and grown razor-sharp talons for fingernails all of the sudden. It was the only exposed body part I could see, and it was safe to say I held no curiosity in wanting to see more. With unnaturally elongated, twisted limbs, this individual took a step forward. They tilted their head back a fraction, taking in a sharp inhale that resulted in another piercing shriek. Enough light captured the figure’s chin, revealing a skinless jaw line.
“Is it just me, or does the school mascot look a little different?” said Reese.
“A bit.”
Chapter 20
Before I’m Dead
Trampling down the bleachers, I raced after Reese out of the gymnasium. “What is that thing?”
The magician pried out a massive filigree blade from inside his militia coat, admiring the steel as he made his way through the cafeteria toward the adjoining hallway where The Crypt Keeper’s cousin had come from. “Haven’t a clue.”
I grabbed him, pulling him to a stop. “You don’t know?”
“For once, no, I don’t. Shocking, I know.” He tipped the brim of his fedora, effortlessly rolling it off his head and placing it on mine with a grin. “Just hang back and let me take care of Tall, Dark, and Creepy. Okay?”
He took another step forward, but I yanked him to a halt again. “No! You’re not facing that thing. Not when you don’t even know what the hell it is! What happens if you go all Gladiator on its ass, only to find out that none of your blades work on it?”
Insidious: (The Marked Mage Chronicles, Book 1) Page 20