by Laura Burns
“Want another one?” he asked. “You like this flavor, right?”
Sarah didn’t answer. Instead, she hurried the last few feet to the dining hall and scurried inside, leaving Ethan to catch the door. No servers today. No clattering dishes or running feet. The buffet was in place as it had been the first few days.
She headed toward the usual table and saw Karina walking toward them with a tray. When they reached her, Ethan took the tray, set it down, then grabbed Karina by the waist and lifted her up for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around him.
“Aren’t you glad there’s lunchtime entertainment?” Izzy asked as she stepped around them and sat down.
“Yeah. Fun,” Sarah murmured, ordering herself to look away. But she couldn’t, at least not until Ethan’s eyes opened and met hers as he continued kissing Karina.
* * *
By the time the pink light flashed at the end of her last class, Sarah was exhausted. The Blutgrog from the initiation ceremony had drained out of her system and she felt sluggish without her heightened senses. Or maybe she was sluggish because she’d hardly slept last night. Whatever the reason, she just wanted to go to bed.
But before she’d gotten very far down the hall, Dean Farrell called her name. Sarah glanced at the dean’s shoes so she could report to Karina—pale gray suede, pointy toe, conservative looking until you saw that the wedge heel was python print.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” the dean said. “How’s it going now that you have a few more weeks under your belt? Do you have a minute to talk, or should we set up a time for you to come by my office?”
“Now would be—” Sarah broke off as the scent of cedar and cloves assaulted her, the smell that had triggered the memory of her father on her first night. Dean Farrell’s perfume must be a similar scent. “Um, now wouldn’t be that great,” she said quickly, breathing through her mouth so she wouldn’t get hit with the odor again. “I can call your office and set up something,” she added, backing away.
“That would be fine.” Sarah could feel Dean Farrell staring at her curiously as she rushed away. But she had to get somewhere safe. She pressed her hand over her nose, as if she was about to sneeze. The scent was still overwhelming somehow. Where was it coming from?
The chemistry room was just down the hall. Sarah picked up speed, breaking into a trot. She’d told Dr. Diaz about her memory. It would be okay if she lost it in front of him. But it was too late. Three steps away, the scent got her. And she was in.
In the grayness, following Daddy’s rules. Being quiet. Being still. Hiding. Waiting until he or Mommy opened the tunnel door. Smelling the musty tunnel, the spicy scent of Daddy’s cologne fading.
She was trying not to think of monsters crawling toward her. Daddy said there were no monsters. But monsters liked tunnels. They liked little girls.
Thinking about the rules helped. She needed to keep remembering the rules. If something bad happens, wait until it’s safe. Then run. Run fast. Find a lady with kids. Tell her your name is Sarah Merson. Merson. Merson, Merson, Merson. Ask for help.
Her nose twitching, itching from the thick air. Making her want to sneeze. But she had to be quiet.
Then Mommy screaming. Were the monsters out there and not in the tunnel?
She had to move. On hands and knees, creeping toward the slits of light, heart pounding.
Seeing her. Mommy on her knees facing the hotel room wall.
Someone’s legs. A hand reaching down. A silver bird staring at her from the ring on the finger. The finger pulling the trigger of a gun.
A bang. Her ears filling with bees. Mommy collapsing on the floor. Red spilling.
Sarah shoving her fingers into her mouth. Quiet. Being quiet.
Daddy’s legs running by. The bird man chasing.
Something bad happening.
In the hallway, another gunshot.
And she was out. It took her a moment to realize she was sitting in a chair in the chem room, Dr. Diaz standing over her. “Please tell me I didn’t start crying.”
He didn’t say anything. Sarah sighed. “Please tell me a limited number of people saw me.”
“I got you in here pretty fast when I heard you. I don’t think you’ll be the newest gossip item on the Boards.” Dr. Diaz handed her a piece of filter paper. Sarah stared at it, then realized she was supposed to use it as a Kleenex. She wiped the tears and snot off her face, and crumpled the filter in her fist.
“Want some strawberry juice?” Dr. Diaz asked. “It should be almost ready.” Without waiting for an answer, he headed toward the door to the big lab. Sarah followed, feeling awkward and large after spending those moments in her little kid body. “Put a drop of liquid nitrogen in a couple of beakers and swirl it around,” he instructed.
As she did, her heart rate normalized. Dr. Diaz opened the centrifuge and pulled out a jar filled with a deep pink liquid on a diagonal. The other half of the jar was filled with a denser liquid that was a dark rose color. “You got those beakers chilled?” he asked.
“Um, yeah.” Sarah hadn’t really thought about why he’d wanted her to use the liquid nitrogen.
“Excellent. You are in for a treat. With the ’fuge you get a silky juice with a really intense flavor.” Dr. Diaz put a piece of filter paper over the top of the jar and poured the liquid into one of the beakers, then repeated the process with the second beaker. “Cheers,” he told her.
Sarah clinked her beaker to his, then took a sip. Dr. Diaz was right. It was intense—strawberry squared—and almost too sweet. “Keep going,” he urged. “You still look a little shaky. You could use the glucose.” She took a longer swallow. “So I’m guessing I just saw the side effects of your remarkable memory.”
“That was an especially bad one,” Sarah told him. “Sometimes the memories just hit me. I’ll see or taste or smell something, and wham! It takes me over. Entirely. And suddenly I’m living the past, completely unaware of the present.”
“So you’re reliving, not just watching the events play out.” He took a swallow of his strawberry juice and gave a long “Ahhh” of satisfaction.
“Yeah.” He was trying to make her not feel like a freak. And it was working. “It was a memory from when I was really little. One of the ones people are always telling me I shouldn’t be able to have because I was so young. They shot my mom in the head, then my dad ran and the guy followed him. I heard another shot, so I knew they killed him too.”
She rolled the beaker between her palms. “Later, when I was older, I searched for mentions of a murder like that in the news. There was nothing. I don’t know why they were killed, but it wasn’t random.”
“After we talked last time, I read up on eidetic memory and HSAM,” Dr. Diaz said. “One article mentioned that there are some cases where the subject remembers dreams as vividly as their waking moments. It can be hard for such people to tell if they’re remembering something that really happened, or if they’re remembering a dream.”
“You don’t believe me.” She put the beaker down. “You think I’m remembering a nightmare, not something that really happened.”
“Sarah, someday you’re going to start giving me the benefit of the doubt,” he told her. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I just think it’s worthwhile to explore all the possibilities. Scientist, remember?”
“But when I dream, I just dream like a normal person,” Sarah protested. “I don’t smell things or feel them the way I do in that vision of the day they died.”
“The thing is, people like you store memories in a different way, even in a different part of the brain. Maybe those sensations are recorded even though you don’t remember having experienced them when you wake up.”
“I guess it’s possible,” Sarah said slowly.
“It seems like a plausible dream for a little girl dealing with the death of her parents, being sent to live with strangers,” Dr. Diaz said. “I’m sorry for that, Sarah, that you lost them so young.”
The warmth and sy
mpathy in his voice made her eyes sting and her throat tighten. “Thanks,” she answered, her voice hoarse.
“Hey, you think we could figure out how to make a Frappuccino with some of this stuff?” He gestured to what had to be a million dollars’ worth of science equipment.
Sarah laughed. Her instinct to head for the chemistry room and Dr. Diaz had been a good one. “We have the technology, that’s for sure.”
* * *
“Ready for your first party down in the den?” Izzy asked Sarah on Friday night.
“Since neither of you will tell me what the parties are like, how can I answer that?” Sarah said.
“They’re always a little different,” Karina replied. “But they’re always fun!” She took a pair of earrings from the top drawer of her nightstand and waved them at Sarah. “Put these on. They’re perfect with that sweater.”
After a lot of protesting, Sarah had finally agreed to let Izzy loan her a sweater for the party. It was cream-colored, long-sleeved, with a V-neck that was lower than what Sarah usually wore. The earrings would be great with it. They were beautiful, long with a gentle S shape, and sparkly with jagged crystals in purple, green, lavender, ruby, and pale blue. When Sarah held them up next to her face in the mirror, she had to admit she loved the way they looked against her dark hair.
“Put them on,” Karina urged. “We need to get going.”
“Okay, okay.” Sarah smiled as she put them in. “Ready,” she announced, and together they all headed down to the door near the school’s back entrance. Karina pressed her fingerprint on the pad next to the door. Somehow one of the pack members had hacked the system and added everyone’s fingerprints to those accepted by the door pad.
After they went down the first set of stairs and crossed the cavernous furnace room, Sarah got the honor of unlocking the door to the subbasement, because she’d just gotten her key. She felt a little thrill of anticipation as she started down the rough wooden stairs.
“Wrong way,” Izzy told her as she started to turn left at the bottom. “We only use the Bone Man room for ceremonies. The robes too.”
“For parties and other social stuff, we use the den,” Karina added. She moved into the lead, and they followed a twisting corridor, until they reached a room about as big as the coffee shop. It was much warmer than the rest of the subbasement, probably because the damp stone walls had been covered with thick Oriental rugs. The room was lit with dozens and dozens of candles.
Small groups of kids lounged on piles of cushions scattered all over the floor. “Hmmm. That looks interesting.” Izzy nodded toward a tangled heap of very long leather strips that were a couple of inches wide. Sarah couldn’t believe her eyes hadn’t gone there first.
“You don’t know what they’re for?” Sarah asked quietly, hoping it wasn’t a stupid question.
“No, it’s a new addition,” Izzy said. “Nate’s a genius for coming up with ways to keep the parties lively.”
Lively? Sarah shot another glance at the leather strips. It’s not another initiation, she reminded herself. I’m already in the group. Still, a little apprehension mixed with her excitement.
“We need drinks.” Karina raised her voice. “Who wants to bring three gorgeous girls some drinks?” she called. Four boys were instantly on their feet, including Logan. “What’ll it be?” one asked. Sarah hadn’t officially met him yet, but she thought his name was Cody.
“Martinis,” Izzy replied, dropping down onto a cluster of pillows. “Okay?” she asked Sarah and Karina.
“Sure,” Sarah said, and Karina nodded, as they joined Izzy on the floor. At least her roommates were getting along tonight. Sarah continued to look around the room. More people had arrived. She thought it was close to being the whole group, about twenty in all. Something on the wall across from her snagged her attention. “You guys have a flat-screen down here?” she exclaimed.
“We have everything you could possibly want,” Karina assured her.
“I thought there wasn’t any electricity,” Sarah said.
“The candles are for atmosphere,” Izzy explained. “Thanks, boys,” she said as their drinks arrived. Sarah took a small sip. She’d never had a martini before. She wasn’t sure she liked it, but she was willing to give it more of a try.
A long howl interrupted the buzz of conversation in the room. Sarah turned toward the sound. Nate was in the rough stone doorway holding the ceramic bowl from Sarah’s initiation in both hands. “I don’t think it’s a full moon, but I feel my wolf coming out!” Nate shouted.
Everyone howled in response. Sarah threw back her head and let her voice blend with all the others. Nate wandered from group to group, bringing the bowl to the lips of each member of the pack. Sarah’s stomach tightened when he reached her. Nate’s intense gaze always made her feel as if he was looking deep inside her, seeing much more than her face, taking in her secret wishes, fears, and desires. He’d always been able to understand her, from day one. She stared back at him as she took a swallow. The taste—what she could identify—was a mix of mushrooms and berries and alcohol. Nate smiled at her before moving on to Izzy. She felt his smile brushing across her face as the Blutgrog took hold.
She let herself sink into the sensations. Branching lines of warmth pulsed through her body. She became acutely aware of her mouth, her tongue lightly touching the soft roof, lips meeting in a light touch. Aware of the small tinkling sound made by the crystals of her earrings as she turned her head slightly, of the gold wires running through the tiny holes in her earlobes. Aware of the colors in a single candle flame, gold, yellow, cream, a bit of blue.
“I bet you’re all wondering what these are for,” Nate said when everyone had drunk. Sarah focused on him, trying to concentrate on his words. He tapped the pile of intertwined leather strips with one foot.
“I know what I’m hoping,” Logan yelled.
“Here’s the deal. Guys grab the end of a strip with a knot in it and tie it around your wrist. Girls do the same thing, except use the end with no knot. When you find out who’s tied to you—well, you take it from there. Just have fun and be safe.” That got another round of howls. When Sarah howled along, it felt as if she were already tied to everyone in the room, their joined voices connecting them.
Nate held up his hands, and the room went quiet. “There are black strips, red strips and green ones. Girls who want girls, use the green, either end. Guys who want guys, same thing with the red. Experimentation, as always, is welcome.”
Sarah felt a little nervous as she approached the strips. There were a bunch of guys in here she’d never even spoken to. A bunch of hot, smart guys handpicked to be in the group, she reminded herself. She smiled as Karina helped her tie the end of a black strip to her wrist. The leather was cool and pliant. She wouldn’t mind it wrapping around her entire body.
As she tied one to Karina, she suddenly thought of Ethan. She wanted to ask Karina if this was weird for her, but she seemed fine with it. She turned to Izzy to see if she needed help. Izzy held the end of a black strip and a green one. “I’m trying to decide if I’m feeling adventurous,” Izzy explained, then dropped the green strip. “Maybe another night.”
“Go time!” Nate yelled.
Sarah felt a tug on her wrist, but she had no idea who was doing the tugging. The strips were too tangled. “I think I need to go over yours,” she told Izzy, and Izzy crouched down so Sarah could step over her strip. A jerk from the other end of her strip suddenly took the slack out and brought her tight up against a guy with short blond hair, her chest pressing against his back, her nose at the base of his neck. She vaguely remembered his name being Luke. He laughed and so did she. “Um, I think I need to squeeze in front of you. I don’t have enough rope to go anywhere else,” Sarah told him.
“Do whatever you want. I’m at your service,” he replied.
Sarah inched around him, her leather strip loosening just a bit. Then she noticed that Grayson had been pulled up against him on the other side. This was
going to be tricky. She had to cross in front of Luke to get more slack, but Grayson was standing super close, facing him, and there was only a little gap Sarah could squeeze through.
“You have room,” Luke said, and she could feel the tiny vibrations of his voice inside her ears. She giggled. It felt like he was tickling her without even touching her. The Blutgrog was incredible stuff.
She wasn’t convinced that there was enough room, but she began wriggling between them, her back to Luke. “Hey, new girl,” Grayson purred. Their faces were almost touching, so Grayson closed the small distance and kissed Sarah on the cheek, smiling as she pulled away.
Kissed by an Olympic hopeful, Sarah thought giddily.
Slowly she managed to work her way past, feeling Luke hard against her butt as she did. She gave her hips a little wiggle in response. She’d never felt like this, so accepted, so connected, so desired.
She continued weaving through the jumble of bodies, light-headed with sensory stimulus—fingernails lightly sweeping across the skin at the small of her back where her sweater had ridden up, hands running through her kinky hair, her own hands exploring, stroking a stubbly cheek, the hollow of a throat, the curve of a waist.
The leather strip between her and him, whoever he was, was really loose now. She had to be getting close. Her heart began beating faster, the heat lines running through her body becoming almost electric. A few couples had already broken free of the twisted web. Sarah could see Karina and David lying in a pile of cushions near the door. He was using their leather strip to blindfold her, and she was laughing, head tossed back. Ethan would—
The thought shattered as arms wrapped around Sarah, one just under her breasts, one across her belly. “Found you,” a low voice growled huskily in her ear. Nate. She twisted around to face him. God, he was beautiful, all blocky jaw and bumpy nose, and hard body. He made her think of a boxer. The candlelight reflected off his dark hair, his caramel-colored eyes gleaming. She ran her hands over his biceps, lightly squeezing, confirming he was just as muscular as she thought. “And now that I’ve found you, exactly what am I going to do with you?”