by Nicole Maggi
“Please,” I said. “Please let me explain.”
“Explain?” He burst out laughing, an angry sound that hurt my ears. “Explain? Alessia.” He grabbed my arms, his fingers digging deep into my flesh. The silver bracelet on his wrist flashed in the moonlight. “You just turned into a falcon in front of me. And you want to explain?”
I struggled against his grip, but he held me fast, his eyes like knifepoints on my face. “You told me about the car accident, and I forgave you. Please just let me tell you—what I am, what I can do—and you’ll understand. You’ll forgive me too.”
Jonah let go of me with such force that I tumbled backward, caught myself on my hands.
He got to his feet and towered over me, his whole body dappled in grey light and shadow. “That’s right—I told you about the car accident. And the whole time you were keeping this huge secret from me—about who—about what—you are.” He shrank away from me and crossed to the closet where his clothes hung on the door. His back was stiff and his shoulders tense as he pulled his jeans and sweater on.
I fought for breath, but my lungs had shrunk to half their size. I scrambled to my feet and dashed to him, tugged on his arm so he half faced me. “Jonah, please! Please.” My voice was an octave higher than normal. I slid my hand down to his wrist. His skin was ice-cold, and my fingers trembled as I tried to hold on to him. “It isn’t my fault. I can’t help what I am,” I whispered.
“Yes, you can,” Jonah said. He shook my hand off him and backed away, his face turned so I couldn’t see his eyes. At the door he paused, his hand on the knob. “There’s always a choice,” he said softly and left the room.
Chapter Twenty-five
The Mirrored Compact
Frozen to the floor, I watched Jonah leave. I felt like someone had punched a hole in my gut, reached inside, and twisted everything into a bloody mess. His footsteps thudded on the stairs. The creak of the old wood uprooted me. I ran out to the landing. “Jonah!”
He pulled his coat from its peg by the door. “Just leave me alone.”
“No!” I galloped down the stairs, too late forgetting that Heath was sleeping in the living room. He sat up, wide awake. I raised a hand to stop him from interrupting and grabbed Jonah’s coat. “Just talk to me. We can work this out.”
Jonah wrenched the coat away from me and shoved his arms into the sleeves. “I don’t think we can.”
A sob escaped my throat. “I thought you loved me.”
“I did,” Jonah whispered, “when I thought I knew who you were.”
I reached blindly for him but only found air. He opened the door, and a blast of cold wind rushed inside. The sun glinted off the snow, blurring my vision. Jonah plowed his way through the snow that hid the front steps. Another wintry gust blew the door shut behind him.
The click of the latch echoed in my brain. I pressed my hands to my head to make it stop. Everything around me went into soft focus; all I could see was Jonah’s back, his dark coat in sharp contrast to the glittering white snow. This was not happening. It simply was not happening. The reality was slippery in my mind, just out of my grasp.
Strong, warm hands gripped my shoulders. “It’ll be okay,” said Heath. “Just give him some time.”
“Let go of me!” I pushed him away, and he stumbled back, catching himself on the coffee table. “This is all your fault!”
“Alessia,” Heath said, “you know that’s not true.”
The patronizing tone in his voice caused something to snap inside me. “If you hadn’t come here—if you all had your act together and had never lost control of the Waterfall, this wouldn’t be happening.”
“But we did lose control, you were Called, and you said yes.” Heath’s tone had hardened. He stared me down. “If you couldn’t handle it, then you should have refused the Call.”
“I didn’t know how much would be asked of me.” I brushed tears out of my eyes. “You lied—”
“I never lied—”
“—and now I’ve lost everything!” I was shaking.
Heath softened and reached his hand out to me. “You haven’t lost everything. You still have the Benandanti.”
“Fuck the Benandanti,” I yelled, hitting his hand away from me.
“What’s going on?”
We both looked up. Lidia stood at the railing at the top of the stairs.
Heath ducked his head and sat on the pullout bed.
I glared at him, at his silence, and answered my mother. “Jonah just broke up with me.” I stomped into the kitchen and put on my snow boots that sat by the door. Overhead I heard the stairs creak, and a moment later Lidia came into the kitchen.
“Cara—”
“Don’t.” I grabbed my coat and threw the door open. A huge drift of snow greeted me outside.
“Alessia, it’s too cold out.” Lidia gave me a small smile. “Why don’t I make some hot chocolate, and we’ll talk?”
I paused in the doorway. “Mom, this is something that hot chocolate can’t fix.”
Her eyes widened with hurt.
I turned my back on her and climbed on top of the snowdrift. It was hard and icy and didn’t give much under my weight. I trudged through the snow, crawled when I had to, and fought my way from the house toward the hillside. A few times I looked back, but no one followed me. I saw again that look of hurt on Lidia’s face. A red-hot ribbon of shame tied itself into a knot in my stomach.
The effort of getting through the snow took all my concentration, and I welcomed the distraction. Soon I was sweating under the heavy coat. The hillside loomed in front of me. If things were normal, I would be sledding down the hill right now. I swallowed hard and dug the heels of my hands into my eyes until I saw spots.
I rounded the hill and came to the Virgin Mary shrine. Her head and shoulders were piled high with snow. She looked like she was wearing a mantilla. I stared at her face. Her downcast eyes were fixed on her praying hands. I had never noticed before how sad she looked. I fell to my knees before her and pressed my hands against her base, the cold stone stinging my bare palms. “Why?” I asked her. “Why did you choose me? Why do I have to be extraordinary? Why can’t I just be normal like everyone else?”
She was silent, her head bowed under the weight of the world.
I whirled away and pounded over the snow to the far side of the hill. I stopped in front of the door to the Cave. Snow had piled up on the overhang, but the doorway was clear. I tugged the door open.
Inside, the air was cool and damp but close and snug. I swung the door shut and breathed in deep. It smelled like milk and butter, like goats and grass, like all the scents that surrounded my life, like days of innocence and joy. It smelled like my childhood before my dad had died. As I thought of him, my throat tightened. Would all this be happening if he were still alive?
I sank down to the floor, crawled under the big table, and curled up on my side. I let everything inside me spill onto the wide-planked floor. I cried until I was sure there was nothing left to cry about, and then I cried some more, and then my tears dried up and I lay in the fetal position, heaving.
Blood pounded in my ears, and my head ached. I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees. Sniffling, I rested my cheek on my knees. All I could see in my mind’s eye was Jonah’s expression when he saw me transform. The grief of losing him overwhelmed me. Before I knew it, I was crying again.
I don’t know how much time passed that I spent curled beneath the table, alternating between crying and thinking and crying again. It might have been fifteen minutes or three hours. But when the door creaked open, sunlight beamed into the room. “I want to be alone,” I croaked, not even raising my head to see who it was.
“I know.” The door closed, and I watched Lidia’s feet shuffle toward the table. She crouched down. “But I thought you might be hungry.”
Despite myself, I laughed. Typically Italian. Sniffling, I sat up.
Lidia crawled under the table with me and set a thermos and a plate of f
resh homemade doughnuts in between us.
I unscrewed the lid of the thermos. “Hot chocolate and doughnuts.”
“When you were a little girl, this always made you feel better.”
I looked down at my lap, my brow furrowed. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”
She made a noise, like a choked sob. I looked up at her. She brushed a stray hair away from my face, her fingers soft on my skin. “Oh, cara. You will always be my little girl.”
“No. You have to let go. You can’t protect me from everything anymore.”
Lidia swallowed, her fingertips suddenly cold on my cheek. “I know that, Alessia,” she whispered.
I stilled, watching as she dropped her hand and picked up a doughnut. She knew something; I was certain of it. I opened my mouth to say the forbidden truth, but Heath’s voice was in my head. You must not speak of the Benandanti. More than that, it could put her in danger. Weeks ago Heath had warned me, and now I realized he had been able to see ahead. Unlike me. I touched her hand. “Thanks, Mom. For the doughnuts.”
She squeezed my fingers. “Do you want me to stay with you?”
I shook my head. “I think I need to be alone.”
Lidia slid out from under the table and was just about to pull herself up when she paused. “I’m sorry about Jonah.”
“No, you’re not. You don’t like him.”
She rolled her eyes heavenward. “He wouldn’t have been my first choice for you, but I know how much you care for him.”
“Well, you can be happy now because it looks like he’s never going to talk to me again,” I said.
Lidia shrugged one shoulder. “You teenagers are so caparbio—so willful. Tempestuous. He’ll come around.”
My throat felt tight. “I don’t think so.”
After a long moment, she sighed. “Ti amo, cara mia. Don’t ever forget that.” Her footsteps padded away on the concrete floor, and the door closed heavily. I was alone again.
The silence in the Cave wrapped itself around me. I closed my eyes, listening to my heartbeat. Underneath its thump-thump, another sound came, so quiet at first that I couldn’t tell what it was. It grew louder and louder, from a low growl into a roar . . .
My eyes flew open. The Panther crept toward me under the table, its belly slung low to the floor. I scrambled backward, cold sweat prickling my forehead. The Cave door was still closed. How had it gotten inside?
The Panther’s jewel-bright eyes bored a hole in me. I froze, losing myself in their forest-green depths. Again I wondered if Bree was behind them, taunting me, daring me to fight back . . .
Fight. I pushed myself up to my knees and pressed a hand over my heart, willing myself to transform. But my body would not cooperate, and no matter how hard I thought of my Falcon form, the shift would not come.
The Panther swiped its paw at me, its razor-sharp claws missing my throat by less than an inch. I jumped up and ran to the door, but the Panther was there in less than a breath, blocking my path. It reared up on its hind legs and flung itself on me, its paws gripping me . . . almost like an embrace . . . I screamed and jerked away.
I was on the floor under the table, curled up in the same position I’d been in earlier. The Cave was silent. The Panther was gone. I blinked, trying to calm my racing heart.
What had happened? It was just like that vision I had had so long ago, before I knew what the Waterfall truly was. But I hadn’t touched the water . . .
Throat dry, I clambered out from the table. I had touched the water. In the battle last night. And I wasn’t the only one.
I opened the door and stumbled through the snow toward Heath’s cabin. Halfway over the hillside I met him.
He wasn’t wearing a coat, and his face was pale as the snow beneath our feet. “I didn’t know they’d be that real,” he choked out. His blue eyes swam, and he shivered, hugging himself.
I stared at him. What had he seen? I was dying to know, but it suddenly seemed much too personal of a question to ask. “Yeah,” I said finally. “That’s what they’re like.”
We stood on the hillside, not saying anything, until Heath shook himself and looked at me. “Are you back to the land of the living now?”
I snorted. “Did I ever really leave?”
Heath rubbed his arms to warm himself. His eyes looked faraway, like he was lost in the memory of his vision.
I opened my mouth to tell him about what I had seen, then clamped my lips together. I didn’t need to tell him. I knew what the vision meant. The Panther—the first Malandanti I had ever seen and the one that somehow kept getting in my way—was someone I knew. And I had a very strong inkling of who that was.
School was cancelled Monday because of the snow. On Tuesday I went to French class on pins and needles, my gaze on the door until the bell rang. But Jonah never showed up. Thursday morning I overheard (okay, I eavesdropped at his office door) Principal Morrissey on the phone with Mrs. Wolfe, suspending Jonah for a week for ditching. I knew he’d catch hell from his dad, but I was relieved I wouldn’t have to deal with seeing him for several days, and then it would be Christmas break.
The girls fortressed around me, plying me with chocolate and you’re-better-than-him platitudes. I was vague about the reasons for the breakup, and they didn’t push me. It was a relief to be with them, rather than at home where the atmosphere was thick with anxiety. Lidia and I kept our conversations to small talk, and whenever she wasn’t cooking she was at the kitchen table with a calculator and a spreadsheet of the household finances.
“I’m sure Mr. Salter will give me some more hours at the store,” I said, sitting next to her with a cup of post-dinner coffee in my hands. “I can do evenings and weekends.”
“No, I don’t want you to neglect your schoolwork.” Lidia put her hand on mine. “We’ll be fine. We’ll figure this out. We always do.”
I was thankful for her optimism, but the next morning on my way to school, I went to talk to Mr. Salter anyway. But when I got to his store, it was shut and locked up tight. I stared at the Closed sign on the door for several minutes. The only other time I’d ever seen his shop closed was the day of his wife’s funeral. Maybe he’d gone away? I’d have to ask Lidia if she knew anything.
Jenny joined me on the sidewalk, and we huddled together as we passed Joe’s with its usual early-morning crowd.
Pratt Webster sat alone at a table against the huge plate-glass window, a half-empty cup of steaming coffee in front of him. Wincing, he flexed his fingers and picked up his BlackBerry, grimacing as he jabbed at the keyboard.
My nostrils flared, and my breath felt like jagged glass in my lungs. I hadn’t seen him since the day he had said he would “handle” my mother, and twenty-four hours later our barn had burned down.
I turned away from Jenny, heading for the coffee shop, but she caught my elbow. “What are you doing? The first bell is in like five minutes.”
Taking a deep breath of cold morning air, I let her drag me across the street toward school, glancing over my shoulder at Pratt. He was in the thick of it all, I knew that for sure, but as with Bree, I couldn’t prove anything.
“Josh Baker is having a party at his house tonight,” Jenny said as we jogged up the steps to school. “His parents are out of town.”
“But we hate Josh Baker.”
“So what? There’ll be so many people there we won’t even see him.” She nudged me with her elbow. “It might cheer you up. We’ll go together, and if it’s lame we’ll go get a pizza. Okay?”
“Yeah, maybe.” It was my off night from patrolling. I waved good-bye to Jenny as she went to first period and stood in the middle of the lobby. I was supposed to work in the office, but my exhaustion from patrol ruled that out. I headed for the auditorium to catch up on some sleep.
The auditorium was warm and quiet. I made a little nest in one of the alcoves with my coat and was drifting off to sleep when one of the heavy doors banged open. I lay still, hoping whoever it was would just pass through, but then I
heard giggling, followed by a bag hitting the floor.
“Shhhh,” hissed a deeper voice. The distinct sound of kissing took over.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore it.
“Come on,” murmured the deep voice, and footsteps neared my alcove.
I sat up as Josh and Bree tumbled into view. Her shirt was askew, her hair a mess. Josh had lipstick on his neck. I crossed my arms. “Hi.”
“Guess this spot is taken,” Josh said, tugging Bree away.
She didn’t budge. “I thought Goody Two-Shoes worked in the office first period.”
“Not today,” I said.
“Come on,” Josh said again, pushing her shirt up to touch her bare skin. “I bet the music room’s empty.”
Bree let him drag her away a few feet before glancing back at me. “I’ll tell Jonah you said hi.”
Josh pulled her against him. She shrieked with laughter as he lifted her and carried her away, her legs wrapped around his waist.
My face burned. There was no way I was going to get any sleep after that encounter. I grabbed my coat and headed toward the door. Halfway up the aisle Bree’s bag lay on the floor, its contents spilled on the moss-green carpet. I stepped over them. Something glinted and caught my eye. Crouching down, I saw it was a silver compact, its catch sprung open. The mirror side reflected off the lights, but the other side wasn’t filled with powder or blush or lip gloss.
It was filled with a leathery dried-up piece of skin.
Chapter Twenty-six
The Suspect
The minute I got home, I went to find Heath.
“He’s gone to Bangor to meet with some vendors,” Lidia told me. She set a plate of cookies out for me, but I was too jumpy to eat. “By the way, are you going to Josh’s party?”