by Lucinda Dark
Flicking a look his way, she twirled her hair around one slender finger and called out, “hey, Maverick.”
Maverick lifted a brow. “Hey?” I bit my lip in amusement as he waited for something else, but it appeared Olivia’s brain had short-circuited because she simply stared at him, twirling her hair reflexively over and over again.
I sighed. “See you at lunch,” I said, pushing against his spine to get him moving.
Maverick—the boulder—didn’t fucking move as he looked back at me. “Are you getting rid of me?”
“Yes, isn’t it obvious?”
He pursed his lips, fighting a grin. “You need to work on your people skills, Barbie. I’ll see you at lunch.”
“My people skills are fine!” I shouted as he strode away.
“Sure they are,” he called back.
I growled and watched him go until he disappeared into the school building before turning back to Olivia. She didn’t wait for me to say anything. “Oh my GAHD.” She sighed dramatically. “Maverick McKnight is like pheromone overload. I couldn’t think of anything to fucking say.” She collapsed against her car and her hand left her hair. “Jesus, he probably thought I was a ditz.”
I thought she was a ditz, but I kept my mouth shut, choosing instead to ask her about something else. “How was your weekend?” I asked.
She groaned and turned, snatching her purse off the ground. “Awful,” she confessed. “My parents were pissed about my hangover and I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere this weekend. Thanks for taking me home though.” She bumped my side as we headed for the doors. “Pretty sure my parents would’ve taken my Porsche if I’d gotten a DUI or something. By the way, why were my keys in the front seat?”
“Because I took it to the Priest party and I didn’t want to wake you up to return them when I dropped it off at your house.” We pushed into the main hall and headed through the throng of people that had already gathered.
“You borrowed my Porsche?” She blinked at me. “Well, that explains why my seat was pushed so far up. You’re short.”
I scowled. “I am not short,” I snapped. “I’ll have you know five-six is the average height of the American female.”
“There is no way you’re five-six,” she shot back.
“I’m five-five,” I said. “I’m average.”
“Below average,” she insisted.
“I—what the fuck?” Olivia and I stopped in the middle of the front hall as two adults I recognized as Mrs. Echolls from my study hall and a woman who I assumed was another teacher escorted a young girl through the students congregating. The girl, a tall willowy brunette with short spiky hair that I recognized as a girl from my Chemistry class was sobbing openly, her body practically collapsed against Mrs. Echolls.
“I don’t know,” Olivia said, following the scene with a frown. “Hold on, there’s Gabby Dalton. She’s bound to know something.” I nodded but didn’t move as Olivia walked away.
I was nothing more than human, but for some reason, I had a sick feeling curling in the pit of my stomach like some sort of physical premonition reaching deep down inside of me and warning me of impending danger. Over the crowd, I saw the glittering blonde head of Rachel Harris as she, too, watched the proceedings. While everyone around us was quietly murmuring, Rachel watched the girl go with an irritated expression. Compassion was not one of her strong suits apparently. It was obvious to anyone who watched that girl be led off that whatever had caused her outburst had devastated her. Sympathy for whatever had happened—no matter what it was—was the most basic of human emotions.
In the next instant, I was bombarded by Olivia. “Oh my God, you’ll never believe it.” She latched onto my arm with a cat like grip, her nails digging into my skin.
I flinched as they cut deep, but from the look of utter shock and fear on her face, I didn’t think she realized what she was doing. “What?”
“That was Penny Hathaway—she was Derick Gilmore’s girlfriend. He’s one of the guys on the football team,” Olivia explained in a rush.
“Okay?” I lifted my brows as I waited.
Olivia shook her head back and forth, the long strands of her cherry red hair sliding over her shoulders. “He was found dead last night,” she confessed.
“What?” I threw her hand away from my arm and grabbed her by her shoulders, shaking her slightly. “How?” I asked. “How did he die?”
Olivia shook in my grip, her face pale. “Gabby’s dad is a cop,” she said, her voice quavering. “She said that Derick … he … I can’t say it, it’s too awful.”
“Olivia,” I snapped.
She crumpled. “His heart…”
I frowned and shook her again. “What about his heart?” I demanded.
“They said it was ripped out. They couldn’t find it. Poor Derick. He was nice. And poor Penny! She’s probably devastated.”
Yeah, she probably was, I agreed silently as I released her.
A loud clap echoed up the hallway, drawing everyone’s attention to the front doors where a man in a suit stood with the front office’s secretary, Pam Costello. “Alright ladies and gentlemen,” the man announced. “I know this is a trying time for all of you, grief counseling will be made available for those who need it, but for now, please head to your homerooms.”
And just like that, the bell rang and the remaining students dispersed, many of them chattering with their friends about the events of the morning. Small tidbits of conversation filtered through.
“He was so nice…”
“They found him in his car…”
“Disappeared at the Priest party…”
I admit, I was convinced that a vampire was likely responsible until Olivia had said that his heart was removed. That didn’t fit a vampire’s MO. Why would they take the heart? I headed to my homeroom, leaving Olivia with her other friends as we came upon them and cut across the hallway to head towards my locker on the opposite side. I kept a look out for Torin, but either he was purposefully making himself scarce—which wouldn’t surprise me—or he hadn’t come to school at all. Not that his absence would stop me. No, Torin Priest didn’t realize it, but he was in my sights now, and I would find out what the hell a human was doing with a bunch of vampires.
As the school day had gone by, teachers had tried to console grieving students and flyers for grief counseling had been passed out just like the man in the suit—Principal Sealy, I’d learned later—had announced there would be. Penny never showed up to class.
After school ended, I headed for the football stadium. In the center of the field, Maverick sat with the other players as the coach and his assistant bowed their heads and spoke in low voices. Putting one foot in front of the other, I paced the length of the bleachers, turned and paced back. I had no doubt that the coach and players were mourning the loss of their fallen friend. In the back of my mind, though, I was trying to figure out if it had any connection with Torin Priest.
When several minutes went by and it didn’t seem as if Maverick would be set free anytime soon, I plopped down on the top of the bleachers. I pulled out a notebook to scribble out all of the information I’d managed to gain throughout the day, as if by putting it all down on paper, somehow it would help give me some clarity on the fucked up situation.
Derick Gilmore, number 23 defensive lineman for St. Marion’s football team, was apparently well loved by his friends and family, and especially his girlfriend, Penny. He was active in school. His grades had been average. All in all, there had been nothing particularly special or extraordinary about Derick Gilmore while he was alive.
That all changed with his death.
I drew a line beneath what I’d written about his life and set to work on what I knew about the man’s death.
From what I’d been told, Derick had been at the Priest party on Friday night and after the party ended, he’d never gone home. His parents—who had been out of town like Beth and Jon until Monday—hadn’t noticed his absence until they’d returned Sund
ay morning and found his bed unslept in. His car had been found several miles outside of town at a place called the Peak. I grimaced as I wrote that down.
Olivia had said that the Peak was usually used as a make out area overlooking the valley. It sounded like something from a bad horror movie to me. Derick’s cause of death … I tapped my pen against the page uncertainly before quickly writing in the word “unknown” and sitting back.
Anyone else would likely have said that having his heart removed was probably what had caused his death, but why would someone remove a heart? I went back to where I’d written about the Priest party Derick had been at and underlined Torin’s name.
Two years, Olivia had told me. It’d been two years since Torin threw a Priest party and the first time he does after I show up, not only do I discover a vampire living in his house, but a guy from the school ends up dead. I no longer believed in coincidences, but even if I did—this seemed like too much of a sign to convince myself otherwise. The only question: what was the sign trying to tell me? What was the warning?
“What are you doing here?” Maverick’s voice jerked me out of my reverie and I glanced up sharply, closing my notebook when I noticed him standing over me. I hadn’t even heard him coming up the stairs.
“Nothing,” I said. “Waiting on you. Are you done?”
“Yeah, why are you waiting on me?” he asked with a frown. “Olivia could’ve taken you home.”
“I need to take a side trip,” I answered, popping up from my seat and stuffing my notebook into my backpack.
“A side trip?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, a side trip. Are you just going to repeat everything I say or are you going to give me a ride?”
Maverick’s gaze roved over me. “It depends,” he hedged as I made my way down the bleachers and headed for the front of the stadium where the student parking lot was.
“On what?” I called back.
“On if it’s illegal.”
I smiled, ducking my head as I hurried through the gates. My feet hit pavement and gravel and I turned towards him, pausing. “Not this time,” I promised.
He stared at me for a moment more before sighing. “Alright, wait here, I gotta go get my shit out of the locker room. Practice has been canceled for the rest of the week; I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
I clasped my hands behind my back and rocked back and forth. “What if I need to go somewhere bad?” I asked teasingly.
Maverick rolled his eyes before arching a brow. “Somewhere bad, like where? Hell?”
“Are you telling me to go to hell?” I asked with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to go there. The devil has a restraining order on me.”
His brow dropped as his eyes widened and his mouth popped open. “I … I literally don’t know what to say to that,” he replied.
I shrugged. “Then don’t say anything. Just hurry up and get your shit so we can go.”
Giving me one last enigmatic look, Maverick shook his head and headed off.
Chapter 20
Barbie
“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” Maverick asked not for the first time since we got into the truck.
“I told you, we’re going to church. Gotta save our souls and all that jazz,” I replied, following the blue arrow on my phone’s GPS. “Turn right up here.”
“Uh huh.” Maverick put his blinker on and made the turn into the parking lot of the Sunshine Meadow Church of Christ.
Why did they have to put Church of Christ on every single sign? Was there anyone out there who’d ask ‘what kind of church is this?’ and assume something like ‘probably Church of Satan?’
The building was tall and square with white siding wrapping around it from the bottom up to the single church bell dangling above the front section. Maverick parked in the nearly deserted parking lot and shot me a narrowed look. “You get weirder and weirder the more time I spend with you.”
“It’s called diversity,” I said with a shrug. “You might not get it much at St. Marion, but from where I come from, diversity is a good thing.”
“You were homeschooled,” he reminded me.
“Semantics,” I replied with a huff as I reached for the door handle. “Stay here, I’ll be back soon.”
“Oh hell no.” Maverick’s finger slapped the lock button. “You’re not going in there without me. I want to find out why you really came here.”
“Would you believe to pray for Derick’s soul?” I asked.
“I’d be more likely to believe that you came to burn the place down. You didn’t even know Derick,” he said. “I want the truth, Barbie.”
I chewed on my lower lip as I debated. It probably wouldn’t hurt to tell him, I decided. He already thought I was weird. “I came to get holy water,” I said with a sigh. “There. Happy?”
Rubbing a hand over his head, he grunted and released the locks. “Jesus, just get it and let’s go.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and laid back, grabbing a folded baseball cap from the console. Placing the cap over his face as I reached for the handle once more, he grunted and settled in to wait. “So fucking weird,” I heard him mutter as I closed the truck door behind me.
Yeah, he may have thought I was fucking weird, but he’d still driven me here without much of a fight. It was becoming clear to me that Maverick McKnight wasn’t as much of an asshole as I’d originally thought. He was just incredibly protective of the people he cared about.
I headed for the front doors of the church and was thankful to find them open. Didn’t want another repeat of my last uncomfortable church experience. Maybe I should just figure out how to get ordained myself and make the holy water at home.
The inside of the church smelled like a mixture of vanilla and floor cleaner. I followed the open entryway into the main chamber of the church and headed down the aisle to the altar. Unlike the last church I’d gone to, however, there was no easy to reach fountain of holy water waiting for me.
“Hello?” I jumped when an older man came around the corner and spotted me. “Can I help you, young lady?”
All in for the weirdness… “Do you have holy water?” I asked.
If he was concerned or confused by the request, the old man didn’t show it. Instead, a small gentle smile graced his face as he nodded. “I can give you some, but if you don’t mind my asking, why do you need it?”
"Would you believe me if I said I'm hunting vampires?" I laughed awkwardly. No one ever did.
The priest stared at me for a moment before he, too, chuckled. "Dear, I'm old, but I'm not senile." He shook his head as he headed for the dais. "I'm Father Birch. Follow me, we'll get you your holy water. I have a feeling this has to do with that poor boy's death."
I stiffened but followed him. "You knew Derick Gilmore?" I asked.
"This isn't a large town," Father Birch replied. "It's not difficult to know most of the residents, but I never forget anyone from my congregation."
"This was his church?" I was kind of surprised by that. From what I knew of the students at St. Marion's—despite the fact that the school had once been a religious institution, I never expected rich people or their kids to be religious.
Father Birch looked back at me with a confused smile. "It was. He will be greatly missed."
"Yeah..." His death really brought home just how short life could be, as if I didn't already know. Some days, the sheer reality of being alive felt like a burden all on its own. If it hadn't been for me, my parents and my brother would've been here with me. I didn't have the luxury of falling apart, though. So, when Father Birch led me further back to a small fountain at the back of his chapel, I pulled out a few water bottles and started to fill up.
"Do you drink it?" he asked, his lips slightly parted as he watched me dunk the mouths of the bottles into the water.
"Sometimes," I said.
"It's just water, you can get that anywhere. Are you—"
"It just makes me feel safer," I interrupted. It made sure tha
t if any vampire decided to take a bite, they'd be in for a world of acidic pain. Father Birch didn't say anything more as I filled up and took a step back from the fountain. "Thank you for showing me where to find it." He nodded, watching me with lowered brows. "I guess I'll ... ah ... be on my way." I turned towards the doors. "Thanks again."
I made it down the dais and halfway down the pews before his voice echoed from behind me. "I don't know what haunts you, child," he started, making me freeze with my back to him, "but whatever guilt it is that eats at you can't be cured by simple water."
Sucking in a breath, I peeked back over my shoulder at the old man. "Some people believe that holy water has healing capabilities," I replied lightly.
He nodded. “That they do, but in the end, it's just water. Whatever sins you've accumulated will be released in due time. If you're truly sorry and you ask for His forgiveness, He will grant it." I didn't need God to forgive me, but I didn't say as much. He took a step down from the dais but didn't approach me further. "The iniquity of the Father or Mother does not fall upon the son or daughter. Do not allow yourself to be wrapped up in the sins of the dead. They are not your burdens to carry."
I frowned. I had no clue how to decipher that. My parents had no sins that I knew of. I was the sinner here, but there was no way I could tell the priest that. So, I nodded, thanked him, and got the hell out of dodge—letting the church doors slam closed behind me as I hurried across the parking lot to Maverick's quietly idling truck.
"Get what you need?" he asked as I jumped in the cab and clicked the door shut.
"Yeah," I said, subdued as I buckled in. "Let's go."
Shooting me an odd look, he sat his seat up and put the truck in reverse. My eyes strayed to the rearview mirror as we turned out of the lot and as the little white church grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, I couldn't seem to pull my eyes away from it or my mind away from the priest's words.