by R. Mason
“Not so fast,” Oliver grabbed Amethyst by the front of her T Shirt and tossed her back into the van. She scrambled to get up, but was held down by vicious hands.
“Dylan!” She shouted, but Oliver was already on him, holding him by his jacket and socking him in the jaw.
“You’re just a human,” He spat, throwing another punch. Dylan stayed on his feet, smiling a little, as if this whole thing was funny. This couldn’t be part of the plan. Amethyst struggled, and managed to get an arm free. She swung wildly, and got the bloused mum in the face.
“Get off me!” Amethyst yelled, swinging again. Suddenly, the sound of heartbeats filled her ears, “Get off!”
Amethyst pulled away from the people holding her down. She turned, pulled the mum forward, and headbutted her with all her strength. Out cold, Anthea fell to the floor of the van. The two little girls came towards her, and Amethyst hesitated. Was it morally right to hit kids, even if they’re practically demons spawned straight from hell?
“Ow!” One of them clawed at Amethyst’s arm, and she decided that morals sucked anyway. In one swift motion, she grabbed both of their heads and smashed them against the side of the van. They went down like a tonne of bricks. She stayed a moment to feel a little guilty, then turned to see how Dylan was fairing.
Crumpled on the floor, he was holding his bloodied face, but wasn’t being attacked anymore.
“What are you doing?” Oliver was holding his stomach, and in front of him was none other than Leon. He was breathing heavily, and looked shocked at his own actions. Oliver looked up at him, and there was more pain in his eyes than the hit would give.
“Rebelling,” Leon shrugged, looking slightly apologetic, “I was bound to eventually. I don’t deal well with authority figures.”
“But-”
“Listen,” Leon pulled Oliver up by the collar of his leather jacket, “You may actually believe in this tripe she’s telling you, but I was just bored, and in need of a team. Now there’s one that actually aligns with my morals.”
“And what am I?”
“An awful person,” Leon said, and even though he looked slightly hesitant, he pulled back and headbutted Oliver so hard he passed out.
Amethyst raised her eyebrows, and Leon looked at her with a small smile.
“I changed sides,” He said simply. Narrowing her eyes, Amethyst hopped out of the van and closed the doors behind her. As quickly as it came to her, all Amethyst’s adrenaline fell away and she rested her forehead against the cold metal of the van.
“We have to go,” Dylan said, “And, as much as I hate to say this to an asshole like you,” Amethyst hoped he was talking to Leon here, “Thanks.”
“Any time.”
Amethyst turned around in time to see the end of a handshake between Dylan and Leon, and both of them snapped their heads around when Harper came up to the side of the van.
“Faye is waking up,” Harper’s words made a lump form in Amethyst’s throat, “And Kamini won’t be out for much longer. We have to go.”
No one replied, but all followed Harper to the car. As they got closer, Amethyst saw Kamini laid on the floor, looking almost peaceful in her sleep. She resisted the urge to spit.
Dylan was limping beside her, so she put her arm around his waist and pulled his arm over her shoulders.
“So, you got beaten up for me,” Amethyst said casually, trying not to sound too grateful. Next to her, Dylan huffed what might have been a laugh, and looked at the others ahead of them.
“For the cause,” Dylan corrected, and he probably would’ve smiled if his lips weren’t so bloody, or his right eye so swollen. He looked at Leon, who turned and saluted before walking straight past the car and down an alley.
“What cause is that?” Amethyst smirked, trying to distract him from whatever weird frenemy thing he had going on with the other guy.
“The I-don’t-want-Amethyst-to-end-up-some-werewolf-lady’s-sex-pet cause,” Dylan huffed a weak laugh, “Or something like that.”
“Sounds like a rubbish cause to get beaten up for,” Amethyst watched as the car came closer and closer, and her throat closed, “You need to stop?”
“Do you?” Dylan retorted knowingly.
“Goddammit.”
“We’ve only been friends a week and I know you so well.”
“Like Leon said,” Amethyst looked towards the alley the boy in question just disappeared down, “I’m transparent.”
“Too right.”
When they finally reached the car, the passenger side door opened. Harper took Dylan from Amethyst’s arms, and Faye climbed out of the car so that he could sit in the front. She looked good. Tired, but good. Alive.
The door closed behind Dylan, and Harper went to the driver’s side, so Faye and Amethyst were left alone.
“Hey,” Faye said quietly, but all Amethyst could hear was her own heartbeat. Unthinkingly, she brought her hand up to Faye’s face and stroked her thumb over a blossoming bruise on her cheek. Her lip was split too, but Amethyst didn’t dare touch her there. It was a line she couldn’t cross.
“You’re hurt,” Amethyst’s voice came out weak and broken, “You said you weren’t hurt.”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” Faye held Amethyst’s hand to her cheek and smiled softly, “It’s fine.”
“God, I should go spit on her.”
“What?” Faye’s eyebrows scrunched together, and it made her nose wrinkle cutely.
“Nothing,” Amethyst shook her head, “I’m just really glad you’re okay.”
Faye’s smile grew, and her eyes lit up, and Amethyst wanted to kiss her so much. She pulled the girl into her and wrapped her arms around Faye’s shoulders, burying the urge to kiss her into her neck. It only took a few moments for Faye to start shaking, her silent sobs moving them both. It took all Amethyst’s power not to cry too, but she could be strong.
All that mattered now was that they were back together, in whatever way they could be.
“We need to go,” Amethyst whispered, her hands twisted in Faye’s hoodie betraying how little she wanted to move.
“I know,” Faye’s breath touched Amethyst’s neck, so she pulled away before she did something stupid.
“Let’s get you home.”
“Yours?” Faye blinked slowly, her red rimmed eyes full of fear.
“Mine.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DYLAN
Trees and buildings faded to blurs as Harper sped through the town. At this point, Dylan couldn’t tell if he was bubbling with excitement or anxiety. It was probably a combination of both. He nibbled on his thumb and ran over their plan in his head again. And again. By the fourth time, his leg started bouncing, and it felt as if he was going to burst.
Dylan flipped his phone between his fingers, and unlocked it again to look at the text he sent Amethyst last. He locked it again and looked out the window.
“Are we nearly there?” Dylan asked impatiently, not bothering to look at Harper.
“Nearly,” Harper laughed slightly, “You want me to open the window?”
“What? Why?”
“So, you can stick your head out,” Harper raised an eyebrow, “You’re acting like an over excited puppy.”
“This isn’t exciting! Faye could be dead for all we know.”
“She’s not dead,” Harper glanced sideways, and Dylan didn’t meet his eyes, “I’d know. I’d smell it.”
“Okay,” Dylan slouched in his chair, and returned his thumb to his mouth. There was a particularly annoying bit of skin that just wouldn’t rip off, “Don’t you need a window open anyway? How can you smell her through the glass?”
“I’m a werewolf, not a bloodhound,” Harper tightened his grip on the steering wheel, “A superhuman sense of smell doesn’t need an open window.”
“You should trademark that. Put it on a t shirt.”
“I should.”
They sat in silence for a moment, until Harper suddenly braked.
“What?” Dylan sat up, looking out of the windscreen, “What is it?”
“There’s another werewolf there,” Harper’s nostrils flared, “An old man. He wasn’t there before.”
“So, what do we do?” Dylan’s mind was reeling. If there was someone else there, they could have been sent for Faye. Maybe they knew they were coming. Kamini could be that smart, couldn’t she?
“Your plan didn’t account for this?” Harper shook his head, “Even I could’ve guessed there’d be someone there.”
“Crap,” Dylan rubbed his forehead, “Pull over. We look weird just stopped in the middle of a road.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What can we do?” Dylan waved his hands, “Can you fight him? Is he strong? Can you tell that from smell? What if there’s more- Why are you laughing?”
“You’re cute when you’re panicking,” Harper covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle his rising laughter. Dylan just stared, absolutely not blushing, “You go all red and flail more than usual.”
“I never flail,” Dylan crossed his arms pointedly, but it just made Harper laugh more.
“Cute,” He said, “But as much as I’d like to watch you squirm, I have some things that might help,” Harper turned slightly and pulled a duffle bag out from the back seat of the car. He rummaged around in it for a few moments before producing three bottles, “I got them from Volkov. They could put a rhino to sleep, so they should work on a few werewolves.”
“How did you get him to give you this?”
Harper shrugged, “Like I said, if you sweet talk him enough, he’ll give you anything.”
“I hope that isn’t as dirty as it sounds,” Dylan muttered, taking one of the vials and inspecting the contents.
“Jealous?” Harper said with a smug smile, leaning back in his seat like they weren’t on a life-threatening mission. It was better to call it a mission in Dylan’s head, rather than a wild goose chase. They were going to find Faye, save Amethyst, and get out of there unscathed. Or at least unmaimed.
“No,” Dylan couldn’t hide the reddening of his cheeks, so turned away as if to hold the vial up in the sun, “You wish.”
“Sometimes,” Harper said vaguely, and Dylan tried not to think too much into it, “Let’s go.”
It only took a few more minutes to get to the place Faye was being held. A cemetery.
This was the oldest cemetery for miles, with graves from as early as the 18th century. The only reason Dylan knew that was because his mum was obsessed with graveyards. She thought she had a ‘sixth sense’ for the other side. When he was younger, Dylan would be brought here constantly, just so Amber could feel the afterlife. It was creepy, to say the least. Most people were convinced it was haunted.
“They’re keeping her here?” Dylan climbed out of the car, “Isn’t it a bit, I don’t know, cliché?”
“Kamini has a flair for the dramatic, apparently.”
“No kidding,” Dylan put the vial in his pocket and looked around, feeling his excitement mixed with anxiety quickly plummet into fear.
“This way,” Harper started walking towards a headstone with stairs in front of it, leading down into a crypt.
“Oh, my god,” Dylan bit his lip, “This is like a Bond movie. The question is, am I Bond or the sexy side kick?”
“Shut up,” Harper snapped, “He’s a werewolf, he probably already knows we’re here.”
“Sexy side kick it is.”
They approached the crypt slowly, on their tiptoes even though the guy down there probably already knows they’re there. When they reached the stairs, Harper held his hand out without looking. Dylan handed him the vial. Silently, Harper held a finger to his lips, then popped the cork on the vial. He covered his nose with his sleeve, and Dylan followed suit.
Amber would tell him that the ‘spirits are angry’ at this point. You’re not meant to do anything bad here. Which is why, obviously, Dylan brought his first girlfriend here so they could kiss on a gravestone. It was rebellious for a thirteen-year-old.
In the blink of an eye, Harper had thrown the vial down the steps and fumes were rising from the liquid it contained. Dylan watched in awe. After a few moments, Harper started descending the stairs, and he followed. The place was dark and wet, but the fumes had dissipated. It didn’t take long to find the werewolf Harper had smelt.
The old man was lying on the floor, his mouth agape. Dylan would’ve made a quip about catching flies but the moment didn’t seem right. Only a few steps away was what they came here for.
Faye.
She was tied to a chair, her chin on her chest and blood dripping down the side of her head. The sight made Dylan want to gag. Faye seemed so nice, and innocent, with her pale skin and baby blue eyes. All he had seen in them was anger and hurt, but still it was obvious she had a good heart. With how much he admired Amethyst, he trusted her judgement.
Faye was her world, so Dylan hated to see her like this.
While Dylan was assessing Faye’s injuries (the bruise on her cheek, the way one arm was slightly dropped down compared the other, the slashes in her jeans), Harper was already untying her.
“Carry her,” Harper broke Dylan out of his reverie, and he rushed to help. As Dylan collected Faye into his arms, Harper was tying the werewolf up, his hands swift and quick. Before he could stare any longer, Dylan started up the stairs.
As much as he liked to think of himself as incredibly strong, Faye was more weight than his backpack full of books. He could do it, but his face probably gave away how little upper body strength he had.
“We need to get going,” Harper ran past him to the car, but Dylan couldn’t run, “We have enough for Kamini and anyone else who comes at us! Come on!”
“I’m trying!” Dylan shouted back.
“You know,” Harper’s voice was raised, excited, where he stood by the driver’s side door, “I see why you felt excited earlier.”
“Now I just kind of feel like napping.”
“Don’t be such a sourpuss,” Harper laughed, “We have a damsel to save.”
“That’s sexist!” Dylan yelled, but Harper was already slamming the door closed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
There was something distant about Faye. She kept to herself, flinching whenever anyone moved loudly as if they were going to hit her. Amethyst could almost see all the places someone else had touched her. The bruise on her cheek had bloomed fully by the next day, and it didn’t take much to convince Rida that they both needed to stay home. Amethyst said it was some kids from school that they spoke to the wrong way and that, no, they didn’t need to talk to the school about it.
Even though they were together again, it felt like they had never been further apart. Dylan showed up Monday morning, asking how they were. His swelling had gone down a bit, and he seemed skittish, but Amethyst invited him in anyway. The silence between herself and Faye was swallowing her whole.
They watched a few movies, ate pasta, and talked about anything other than what happened. It was obvious that it wasn’t over.
If anything, Kamini would come back angrier than ever.
It made Amethyst sick, to think about what was going to happen next. Kamini wanted her. She wasn’t going to quit until Amethyst went with her, or one of them was dead. If Amethyst’s hands shook when they reached for the popcorn she had made for them all, then no one mentioned it.
Faye sat in the armchair nearest the door, as if she needed to run. Amethyst and Dylan were sat on the sofa, and they both kept watching her, even though they didn’t mean to. It felt like Dylan wanted to talk about it, but Amethyst made sure they were never alone long enough to do so.
She couldn’t talk about it.
She wouldn’t.
It was bad enough that this was all her fault, that Faye was closing in on herself because of her. She didn’t need to say it aloud. Everyone already knew.
She wasn’t completely silent. Sometimes, Faye would laugh at a quip on the telly, or quietly e
xcuse herself to go to the toilet. Amethyst almost cried when she asked if anyone wanted anything to drink on her way to the kitchen.
This was her way of dealing with things, being quiet. It had happened before, years ago, when her cat died. It doesn’t sound important, but that cat was Faye’s partner in life. Whenever her dad was away, it was her company, her friend. She was mute for nearly two weeks, only mumbling vague answers to questions and speaking when spoken to.
Amethyst wanted to say that this was no different. She wanted to hope that in a week or so, Faye would be back to her old self, insulting everyone around her and laughing with a glitter in her eye that made Amethyst’s heart warm. It wasn’t going to be like that, though.
Something had happened to Faye. When she was taken, they had done something to her that she wouldn’t talk about. The physical recovery wouldn’t take long, but Amethyst had a feeling that the mental recovery may never fully happen.
Dylan left at around six. He gave Amethyst a small smile and told her he was meeting Harper for dinner, something about catching up on family stuff. Amethyst understood. Since Harper had come back, he and his friend hadn’t really had the chance to hang out like friends do. All they had done was chase Amethyst around, trying to clean up her mess.
“Bye, Dylan,” Faye said quietly as he left, and both Amethyst and Dylan looked at her in surprise. She simply burrowed back into her blanket and shifted her gaze to the TV.
“Later, nerd,” Amethyst shoved his shoulder as he left, and he smiled at her, before his expression turned into something resembling concern. It’d probably be easier to tell if half his face wasn’t covered in bruises.
“She’ll be okay,” Dylan said, “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but people can always move on from stuff like this.”
“How do you know?” Amethyst didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but that’s how it sounded. Dylan shrugged, and somehow, he looked older again, aged by experiences that Amethyst didn’t know about.
“I just know,” He assured her, “We’ll be okay.”