Liar

by Francine Pascal

  And what had it accomplished? Did Sam love her any better for all her lies? No, of course not. Their relationship had deteriorated to the point of being hard to recognize as a relationship at all. On some level, Sam probably sensed her dishonesty and hated her for it. Almost as much as she hated herself.

  A tear fell from her cheek, splattering on the wrinkled page.

  The only possible comfort in Sam’s rejection was the fact that he wasn’t rejecting her raw, true self. Sam had never even met that girl.

  Ed Fargo was the only guy who’d had that pleasure.

  It was a strange, strange thing about life. She worked so hard trying to keep it in control, and yet her few genuinely happy times came when she let go of it completely.

  ELLA

  Sam Moon.

  It’s a name I say to myself almost every hour of every day. Sam Moon. I can see his face before me: that chiseled jaw, that smooth skin, those pensive eyes. Sam Moon. Even the sound of it is magical. The delicate slither of the S. flowing over the a and m into the smooth oo…. It’s like an incantation. A spell. The two words that keep me sane.

  If Loki only knew how I harnessed Sam Moon’s passions, how I controlled him on that night, then Loki would treat me with the respect I deserve. But he will someday. I’m sure of it. Sam Moon is my greatest triumph. A veritable work of art. Compared to those teenage sleazebags in the park … but there isn’t really a comparison, is there?

  And at some point in the not-so-distant future, Loki will find out what I accomplished. He’ll tremble at my power to manipulate. Until he does. I’ll keep Sam Moon under my thumb.

  But I’ll never truly let him go, either. Loki may have most of my heart, but not all of it. Sam Moon owns a little piece of it now, too. Forever. I’ll always keep him close to me-and not only for the unspoken bond between us.

  No. I’ll keep him close to me because he’ll always remind me how I defeated Gaia Moore.

  GAIA

  The Raging Predinner Internal Debate:

  It’s a Date

  He asked me out.

  I took a shower.

  I tried on three outfits.

  It’s just the two of us.

  It’s dinner.

  He wants to talk about something really important.

  No, It Isn’t

  It was an e-mail.

  I took the shower before I got the e-mail.

  They were all the same. All I own are T-shirts and cargo pants.

  He isn’t picking me up.

  He has a girlfriend (who I hate).

  Maybe he’s going to propose to Heather and needs advice about what kind of ring to buy, which I—as a girl—can provide.

  something inane

  Even now her body ached to be next to his. To feel his breath on her neck. To lose herself in that powerful embrace.

  Despicable, Cowardly Rat

  THE WHOLE SCENARIO WAS SHAMEFUL. Completely and utterly shameful. But Sam was beyond caring. All that mattered now was that Gaia heard the truth. Besides, Sam had learned to live with self-loathing. He’d learned to live with an indescribable emptiness because he knew that he had nobody to blame but himself.

  The real kicker was that this meeting should have been perfect. He shook his head, sniffing the frigid night air, and glanced into the abyss of Washington Square Park. It was nearly deserted. The paths were shadowed by leafless trees. But the miniature Arc de Triomphe down the block was all lit up, jutting from the wintry landscape like a giant, glowing tombstone. Soon Gaia would be appearing out from under it.

  Yup. This should have been perfect.

  Everything was in place. He’d invited Gaia out to a late dinner on a Friday night, and she’d accepted. So if he’d done what he’d been supposed to do—meaning if he’d behaved like a decent, moral human being instead of a despicable, cowardly rat—then this could have been the beginning of a new chapter in his life. He could have taken Gaia out for a romantic dinner, then invited her back to his dorm room….

  But no.

  That wouldn’t happen. Instead of dumping Heather, he’d avoided her. Instead of running away from Ella, he’d slept with her—simultaneously cheating on his real girlfriend and having sex with the foster mother of his real love. Sam wasn’t a religious guy by any means, but still, he couldn’t help wonder: Exactly how many sins had he committed in that one heinous act? Enough to land him front row seats in the fiery pit of hell for all eternity—that was for damn sure. Then again, maybe he was in hell already.

  Strange. For somebody who was so good at chess, at decisive maneuvering, he’d made a mess of his life. On the other hand, it was unfair to compare a chessboard to the streets of New York City. You knew where you stood on a chessboard. You knew what the rules were. Here, out in the coldness and darkness and confusion, you pretty much had to make up the rules as you went along. Too bad Sam was no good at improvising.

  “Sam?”

  He jumped at the sound of Gaia’s voice. She’d come from behind him—from the direction of Broadway, catching him totally off guard.

  “Uh, hey,” he mumbled, struggling to collect himself. Even in the freezing cold, with her nose red and her cheek freshly scarred from today’s car accident, Gaia was still beautiful. The bruises and scratches on her face only added to her mystique … her paradoxical aura of both strength and vulnerability. She stood before him, shivering in her ratty overcoat, her blond hair flapping in the wind from under her wool cap.

  Staring at her made him feel sick.

  How could I have betrayed you like that? he wondered for the hundredth time. Of course, he’d justified the betrayal to himself by rationalizing: It wasn’t a real betrayal. Technically he didn’t have a relationship with Gaia—except for a few moments here and there, a fleeting kiss at a time when she was basically concussive, and a lot of other strange encounters….

  “Are you okay?” Gaia asked in the silence.

  “Huh?” He shook his head, then forced an awkward smile. “Uh, yeah.”

  Gaia gazed into his eyes. “Did the accident shake you up?”

  He shrugged. “A little,” he said. Actually, the truth was that he was a lot more shaken up just standing right here, talking to her. “So … uh, where do you feel like eating?” he asked lamely.

  “Anywhere,” she mumbled. She glanced over her shoulder. “So long as it’s not on Broadway.”

  Sam frowned. “Why’s that?”

  Gaia turned back toward him, then laughed grimly. “I just don’t want to run into my foster mother. I caught a glimpse of her on West Fourth Street.” She shook her head, wrinkling her nose as if she’d smelled something foul. “It was weird. It was almost like she was following me or something.”

  “Are you serious?” Sam cried. Shit. His pulse picked up a notch. He stood on his tiptoes, peering over Gaia’s shoulders toward the lights of Broadway. But the street was nearly deserted—except for a few heavily bundled up college kids.

  “Yeah.” Gaia’s face was twisted in confusion. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” Sam lied. He took her arm and started hustling her across the street toward the park. No way could he let Ella interfere in this … confession. There was no telling what she’d say or do. Sam had to tell Gaia the truth his way so that at least he’d have a chance of making her understand the situation from his point of view. “So, um … uh, I was thinking—I was thinking about going to the … the Olive Tree Café,” he sputtered. “Have you ever been there?”

  Gaia gently extricated herself from his grip. For the briefest instant he felt an electric tingle as her flesh touched his. But it faded the instant their gazes locked.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she demanded.

  The two of them paused on the opposite corner. Sam couldn’t keep his eyes from flitting back toward Broadway. He had a clean view of all of Waverly Place, and it was now completely empty. He breathed a secret sigh of relief. Maybe she’d given up and gone on to stalk some other college-age chump.

/>   “There’s something you aren’t telling me,” Gaia stated.

  Sam’s gaze flashed back to her. Now his pulse was in overdrive. He took a deep breath, suddenly acutely aware of the ticking seconds, of the freezing cold, of every sensation … then he realized something. Something inane, actually. The right-front pocket of his jeans was empty. He slapped at it—but there was nothing there. His wallet. Jesus. In all his freaking out about Gaia, he’d left his wallet back in his dorm room.

  “Actually, there is,” he blurted out. “I just realized I don’t have my wallet. Wait here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  Gaia’s jaw dropped. She looked pissed. “Wait here? But …”

  Before she could finish, he whirled and dashed up University Place toward Eleventh Street. The rat was on the run again. Procrastination, memory loss, and chickening out came in pretty handy sometimes.

  A Monument to Human Filth

  WELL. THERE WAS NO LONGER ANY doubt at all in Gaia’s mind. This was definitely not a date. A guy just didn’t bolt from a girl and leave her standing in the freezing cold if he was taking her out. She scowled and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, trying to keep warm. Why didn’t he just ask her to come with him? What was he so scared of, anyway? Gaia used to think that she’d never wish the fearlessness gene on anyone—even her worst enemy—but now she took it back. She would have happily loaned it to Sam for a few seconds at least, so he’d just spit out whatever he had to say and be done with it.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and glanced into the park. A peculiar numbness tugged at her stomach. Asking her to meet him here was a pretty thoughtless decision, too. The memories associated with Washington Square Park didn’t exactly fill Gaia with the warm fuzzies. Mary had been shot here less than two weeks ago. People got killed here all the time, in fact. Or so it seemed.

  The danger was what she used to love about this place … the feeling that anything could happen at any time. Now the uncertainty just made her depressed. The park was a monument to human filth, to people’s worst impulses: to the desire to kill, to rape, to hustle, to poison one another’s bodies with drugs.

  Her gaze roved over the barren tree limbs, over the rusted iron fences and frozen lawns. What was it about this place that drew people here, anyway? It was a dump. But even now—even at night in the freezing cold—people were hanging out. Three burly guys in leather jackets were walking out of the shadows right now, in fact. Gaia sneered. Maybe they were some of Skizz’s old clients, looking to score some coke. Maybe they hadn’t heard the news yet. Well. Gaia could perform a public service and tell them that Skizz was out of commission. Permanently.

  Wait a second.

  The three guys were walking right toward her. They slowed as they drew closer.

  Gaia’s eyes narrowed.

  They were staring at her.

  No doubt about it. Three pairs of hard eyes were fixed on her own. A burst of warmth suddenly shot through her limbs, as if an electric light had been turned on inside her. She felt no fear, of course—but she did feel curiosity. And readiness. Who were these guys? They didn’t look like druggies. No … their bodies were too thick, too healthy. They looked more like cops. Or security guards. And their faces were oddly unremarkable. None of them had any striking or distinguishing features. They could have been brothers, triplets—born to an utterly nondescript family….

  She drew in her breath.

  They stopped right in front of her.

  Now, this was strange.

  None of them moved. Okay. It was more than strange—it was highly surreal. What the hell did they want? They didn’t look menacing, or threatening … or anything. Their expressions were utterly dead. She felt like she was standing in front of a semicircle of three statues.

  “Uh … can I help you with something?” she asked, very calmly.

  The one in the middle nodded. “Yes,” he said in a toneless voice. “As a matter of fact, you can.”

  Bored Beyond Belief

  IT’S A GODDAMNED FRIDAY NIGHT, Ella thought, furiously slurping a double latte. She shifted on the hard Starbucks stool and glared through the huge window at the Broadway street scene. So many hip young passersby. So many couples. All looking so smug and content. And why not? They were all on their way to someplace exciting, someplace to let loose. Yet here she was—bored beyond belief.

  It’s a goddamned Friday night, and I’m wasting it by following some psycho teenage girl around.

  It had to be freezing cold, too. Her fingers felt like they were about to fall off. Even the warmth of the coffee cup did little to soothe them. Her hands were red and chapped and … ugly. Her hands. She’d probably catch hypothermia. Her winter wear wasn’t designed for long-term exposure to the elements. No, it was designed for style, to make her look good during those brief moments when she was caught outside. When she was hailing a cab, for instance. Or when she stepped from a cab into a party or club.

  But then, when was the last time she had been to a party or club?

  Not in years. Years! She took another sip of the coffee, burning her tongue. Her eyes smoldered. She was young; she was beautiful—and time was slipping away. She wouldn’t be young and beautiful forever. Why couldn’t Loki make whatever move he was planning to make and put an end to all this nonsense?

  She deserved a medal for her patience. For putting up with George … that sniveling, pathetic wimp. For following Loki’s every command. Most of all, for living with Gaia Moore. For not killing Gaia Moore.

  Her fingers tightened around the paper cup. As much as Loki enraged her, she couldn’t control her feelings. Even now her body ached to be next to his. To feel his breath on her neck. To lose herself in that powerful embrace. To be … complete. But if Loki wouldn’t accommodate her, then she’d just have to find somebody else to satisfy those needs. Just in the interim.

  A secret smile crossed her lips.

  You don’t exactly hate it, do you, Ella?

  No. She didn’t. She loved it. And a woman needed her diversions. Abruptly she tossed the half-finished latte into the garbage and stood. She’d had just about enough of following Gaia around for the night. Besides, the freak was headed for the park—to play chess with those ridiculous characters, or to vandalize the place, or to do whatever the hell it was she did there. Frankly, Ella didn’t care. Loki was wasting both her time and his by forcing her to keep an eye on Gaia.

  But what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Because now Ella was going to have a little fun. Oh, yes. She smiled again as she fished her cell phone out of her pocket and left the coffee shop.

  Seven Zillion to One

  GAIA BURST OUT LAUGHING AS THE middle guy stepped forward and threw a punch straight at her face. She couldn’t help it. It was just so absurd. Every single time she walked into this park, somebody tried to pick a fight with her. Every single time. What were the odds of that? Seven zillion to one? True, she sometimes went looking for fights. But why did fights naturally look for her?

  The fist whizzed with an inch of Gaia’s face as she stepped back.

  Too slow, asshole.

  She spun and crouched into a kung fu stance, sizing up each of them. If they wanted to get their asses kicked, fine. It would be her pleasure. A strange combination of weariness and adrenaline coursed through her veins. What a drag. She really didn’t want to have to go through this tonight. Really.

  Luckily, the laughter seemed to catch the three morons off guard. That gave her an immediate advantage. No time to waste. Middle Guy was still leaning off balance from the missed connection. She lashed out and kicked him in the kneecap.

  “Ahh!” he screamed. He dropped from her field of vision.

  Her gaze immediately shifted to Left Guy. He was crouched in a kung fu stance, just like hers. He might be a more capable opponent. Better save him for last. Middle Guy writhed on the pavement. Gaia’s eyes flashed to Right Guy. He was coming straight at her, throwing a punch with his left arm. Can’t you do better than th
at? she wondered, laughing again. It was another telegraphed strike, easy to deflect. She shifted to the right and grabbed the guy’s arm, simultaneously kicking his shin with a swift toe strike. The force of his own momentum instantly flipped him in midair.

  “No—”

  His skull struck the pavement first—hitting with a sickening thwok—and he rolled over with a groan.

  Two down.

  All of Gaia’s nerves were tingling as she turned her attention to Left Guy. Her entire body was burning, pulsing, on fire with the heat of combat. She forced herself to laugh once more, just to instill fear in him. Fear was the greatest weapon. But his face was a blank mask. Oh, well. He’d be scared of her soon enough.

  And hopefully by the time she’d finished him off, Sam would have found his freaking wallet.

  Whiny, Little-Girl Voice

  “COME ON, COME ON,” SAM GRUNTED under his breath.

  He whirled around his closet-size dorm room, flinging papers and books and clothing everywhere—but he still couldn’t find it. He paused for a moment, breathing heavily. This method of searching was no good. He was just making it harder on himself. His room looked like a blast zone. But he had left it here, hadn’t he? He had been positive it would be sitting right on top of his desk….

  Pockets. Right. He had to check all of his pockets.

  With one eye still scanning the mess, he snatched a pair of jeans from the floor and tore through them. Nope. His breathing quickened. He tossed the pair aside. This is bad; this is bad…. Gaia was probably getting more pissed by the second. He tossed the jeans aside and grabbed another pair. Not in there, either. Well, at the very least he could console himself with knowing that no matter how pissed she got now, it would be nothing compared to how pissed she’d be later-