by Myers, AJ
“I’m not sorry, Em,” he whispered at long last, the sadness in his voice bringing tears to my eyes. “I’m not sorry because I can see something in that mark that you can’t. I can feel the beauty of the bond it formed between us. And if you would only forgive me, maybe you would feel it too.”
I stared at the door for a long time after it closed behind him. As the tears started to slide down my cheeks, I wished I could feel what he felt too. But I couldn’t.
And it broke my heart to know that I probably never would.
∞§∞§∞§∞
“You’ve been really quiet today, Em. Is everything okay?” Kim asked a couple of days later as we flipped through a rack of formal gowns in a pointless search to find something Kim would approve of for us to wear to the Black and White Ball.
I shrugged and moved to another rack to hide the tears that sprang to my eyes. Kim had suggested a break from demon research, and I had actually jumped at the chance to get out for a little while and do something that had nothing to do with demons. Though I usually hated to shop, I had to admit that even the mall was more appealing than the library.
I was really starting to hate the library.
For the last three days, we had spent every spare second we had in the library looking for anything that might shed some light on the problem we were facing. We had tried the Internet first, hoping, by some miracle, something there would help us figure out where to start.
If I read one video game or movie synopsis, I read a thousand. Every once in a while we would come across a real demon site, but none of them seemed to agree on a method of getting rid of them, proving Nathan had been right about each one being different.
Giving the Internet up as a dead end, we decided we would have to find what we needed the good old fashioned way. We would actually have to read. Therefore, we had been flipping through dusty books that smelled like mildew and were insect graveyards for two of our three day research binge. And for what? Nothing, that’s what. We hadn’t found a single thing to help us.
“You know, Blake said Nate’s been pretty quiet the last couple of days too,” Kim said, holding up a black satin slip dress that would barely come to mid-thigh for inspection before making a face and putting it back. “He’s not even snapping at Tyler anymore. Weird, huh?”
“Weird,” I agreed, grabbing a dress at random and holding it up. “What do you think of this one?”
“Yeah, lime green will look amazing with your hair,” Kim said, smirking.
I looked at the dress I was holding up, feeling my cheeks warm up. Way to be obvious, Em, I grumbled to myself. I hung it back on the rack, but when I turned back around to pretend to look for another dress, Kim was watching me with a knowing look in her dark eyes.
“You wanna talk about it?” she asked quietly, seeing the tears I wasn’t quick enough to hide. “Are you guys fighting or something?”
I shrugged again. By definition, you actually had to speak to fight, didn’t you? Well, Nathan and I hadn’t been real chatty the last couple of days. We’d barely said five words to each other since he’d walked away after the filter in my brain that was supposed to keep me from saying mean and stupid things malfunctioned three days before.
“We’re not fighting,” I told her when she kept watching me like I was going to mutate into a gorilla or something.
“Intimacy issues?” she guessed, frowning.
“If by intimacy issues you’re referring to Nathan’s move to the couch, then yeah, I’d say we’re having some intimacy issues,” I muttered miserably.
“He’s sleeping on the couch?” she asked, her eyes flaring wide in surprise. “What happened, Em?”
“Me. I’m what happened.” She winced when she saw the tears overflow onto my cheeks. I was starting to get used to the extreme waterworks. I’d cried more in the last three days than I’d cried my whole life.
With a sympathetic smile, she walked over and looped her arm through mine. Silently, she turned us toward the food court. Once she’d tucked me into a nice secluded little corner so I could have my breakdown in relative privacy, she went and got us a couple of coffees—and a handful of napkins for me to dry my face with. Then, she sat down across from me and took my hand.
“Okay, tell me what happened,” she said as I wiped the tears from my cheeks.
Leaving out the part about my mark, I gave her the whole story. And when I say the whole story, I mean the whole story. I told her about Nathan kidnapping me the month before. I told her about falling in love with him on our road trip to Washington. I told her about his claim that I was his soul mate. I told her everything.
“I don’t understand, Em,” she said, frowning, when I finished my story and gave her a look that practically demanded she tell me what to do. “If you love him, and I know that you do, why don’t you trust him?”
“Because I’m me and I have more issues than most mental patients?” I suggested sulkily. “I just don’t know how to fix this, Kim! We’re both miserable and it’s all my fault! Tell me what to do!”
I saw a flash of sympathy in her dark eyes and decided I must look as miserable and confused as I felt. Rather than answer me, though, she pulled her phone out of her purse and started scrolling through her contacts. When she found the one she wanted, she shook her hair back and pressed the phone to her ear. When I just gave her an impatient look, wondering how her phone was going to save my love life, she just smiled.
“Hey, Mom,” she said when the call connected. “Yeah, we’re fine. You know that project we’ve been working on? Is it ready?”
She grinned at me and I saw her eyes start to sparkle with excitement over whatever Mrs. Val was telling her. Curious, I strained to hear what was being said and Kim made a point of leaning away from me so I couldn’t.
“No, tomorrow’s good,” Kim finally said, giving me a downright wicked smile. “Yeah, I’ll pick it up on my way. Thanks, Momma. Love you.”
“What was that all about?” I asked, gesturing toward her phone, when she disconnected the call.
“That was about me saving your ass—again,” she said, not really telling me anything. “You are so lucky I’m your best friend.”
“And why would you think that?” I snorted. Never mind the fact that I was lucky she was my best friend.
“Because I have something you don’t, my little virgin friend,” she said, her eyebrows dancing up and down comically. I scowled at her, but let that crack go. I mean, I couldn’t be mad at her when she was only stating the facts.
“Dancing facial hair?” I guessed.
“No, smartass,” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “I have a plan.”
Kim bailed on demon research the next afternoon, leaving me with Blake as a research partner instead. We divided what was left of the list Kim and I had compiled and went our separate ways to look for the books on our individual lists.
I was on the aisle closest to the window looking for a copy of the Demonologies when I felt a cold chill on the back of my neck and the fine hairs there stood on end. In the good old days, I would have simply kept walking. After meeting Gabriella, though, my conscience wouldn’t let me.
“You’re looking for the wrong book,” a low, deep voice said behind me. “Try the one on the very end, bottom shelf, with the black silk cover.”
I turned around, not sure what to expect, and saw a boy standing there who looked to be about my age. He was handsome, in a geeky kind of way, with big, soulful, eyes. He was wearing a pair of navy blue slacks and a white shirt with a sweater vest in red and gold. Those were the Oakhurst colors. I wondered if it was the uniform the students had worn up until the early seventies. I had seen them in the pictures lining the halls for the last four years.
“It worked this time,” he whispered when our eyes met. “You see me.”
“Um, yeah,” I said, hesitantly reaching for the book he had suggested.
It was an odd tome and definitely not the book I had been looking for. First off, there was
no title and no author printed on the binding or cover. Curious, I flipped it open and found that it was handwritten in ink. Some of the words faded in places, but not so much that I couldn’t make them out.
“I have been trying to get your attention for the last three years,” he said, still sounding stunned. I felt a little flood of shame at that. Up until recently, I really had been good at ignoring the dead.
“It’s okay,” he said, quickly, seeing the look on my face. “It might not have been you, you know? Maybe I just wasn’t doing it right.”
“No, it was me,” I admitted quietly, feeling even more ashamed when he just smiled at me sadly. “I’m really sorry I ignored you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re seeing me now. That’s all that matters.”
“How did you know this was here?” I asked, flipping through the book he had pointed me to. At first glance, it appeared to be a spell book. It was the most useful thing I had come across yet, in any case, and I was exceedingly grateful for his help.
“Because I put it there,” he said, shrugging. “It was my mother’s. My stepfather didn’t know what we were, you see. He was a good man and we loved him. I didn’t want him to learn our secret and be hurt by it, so when my mom died I brought all her books here and hid them throughout the library. There’s a concealment spell on them so only another blood witch could find them. It’s always surprised me that no one ever did.”
“Thanks for showing me where it was,” I told him, smiling. “I won’t forget this.”
I looked up from the gift he had just given me to find him drifting toward the windows next to us. He stared out at the grounds bathed in sunlight and the few students who had been brave enough to face the chilly temperatures to bask in it with a mixture of longing and envy that nearly broke my heart.
“I died here, you know,” he said, softly, taking me by surprise. “It happened right over there.” He paused to point at a window high up in the abandoned east wing of the school. “We weren’t supposed to go in there, but me and a few of the guys decided we would show off for some girls we liked. Freddie thought couples hide and seek would be a good way to get them alone. Worked, too.”
He turned to grin at me, but I could still see the sadness in his eyes.
“Everything would have been all right, but a bat flew out and Mary Beth got scared and ran,” he said, continuing the story of his untimely demise. “I was afraid she would hurt herself so I ran after her. I tripped over a chair, a stupid chair. I landed on something sharp and the next thing I knew I was watching my own memorial service. That is not an experience I recommend, by the way.”
“I’m so sorry.” My voice came out sounding thick. How had I never seen how much pain these poor souls were in? “How long have you been here?”
“Since seventy-two,” he said, shrugging again. “If they’d known the truth about my family, they probably never would have let me in. It surprises me how many witches are here now. Your friend over there, for instance.” He nodded behind me at Blake, who was still combing the shelves for research material. Then his ghostly face settled upon me again in a sort of creepy awe. “But especially you, Ember.”
“Especially...me?” I asked, confused.
He smiled and gave a sad nod. “You'll be the one to change things, Ember. Forces behind the Veil have been watching...and talking.”
I didn't like the sound of that. “What have they been saying?”
He took a deep breath and, for a second, I thought he would actually tell me. Then he just winced and shook his head. “There are evil things happening in Moonlight,” he said softly.
Uh, no shit, Sherlock. I might be wrong, but I figured demons were as evil as it got. But when I asked him for details, he gave me a pained smile and turned back to the window, his expression sadder than before.
“I can't tell you,” he whispered. “There are...things...that could destroy me if I even hinted at it. Being dead isn’t the worst thing that can happen, trust me. There are things way worse than death.”
Well, that didn't sound good. I watched him in silence as he continued to stare out at the weak sunlit afternoon.
After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. “Mary Beth never forgave herself,” he whispered miserably. “It’s been forty years and she still can’t let go. She comes here every year on the anniversary of my death and cries. That’s the hardest part. Knowing she’s as trapped as I am is worse than being dead to begin with. I wish…”
“What?” I asked, really wanting to know. I had a feeling Mary Beth was this guy’s unfinished business, and I wanted to help him.
“I wish I could tell her it wasn’t her fault, that she doesn’t have to be sad anymore,” he finished, giving me a pleading look. “Would you tell her for me? It doesn’t have to be a big production. Just tell her Charles said he loves her, he always did, and that she doesn’t have to feel bad about what happened anymore because it wasn’t her fault and I’m okay.”
I nodded, wishing I could hug him to wipe away the sadness on his boyishly handsome face. I so desperately wanted to help him go on that I could hardly wait.
“When is the anniversary of your death?” I asked, already plotting how to get Nathan to let me out of the house long enough to keep my promise.
“November thirtieth,” he said, grimacing when he saw the disappointed look on my face.
Damn. That was the night of the ball. I was going to be a bit busy… No, I would find a way. He sounded even sadder when he spoke again, and I sucked in a sharp breath as his words broke into my thoughts.
“I know that’s kind of a bad night for you, but I promise to help you before I go if you do this for me.”
“You can help me?” I whispered, not really daring to hope.
“I think so,” he said, nodding. “I was born and raised a witch, so I know a lot about what you’re up against. My mother was more researcher than witch. According to her, knowledge was power. She researched everything from herbs to angels. She had extensive notes on demons. They’re stored in the attic of my old house. My stepfather still owns the old place, but he’s in a nursing home now and the house is empty. You’ll have to teleport in, though. My mother charmed that door three ways to hell and back. I don’t think you could open it with a wrecking ball.
“If you agree to help me, I’ll make sure you get my mother’s research material—which is a whole lot better than anything you’re going to find here. She collected reports of demon possession from all over the world. What do you say? Do we have a deal?”
A lump formed in my throat and all I could do was nod as grateful tears blurred my vision. I smiled at him and felt warm inside when he returned it, looking much happier than when he first appeared. After giving me the address of his old house, he turned and started to drift away from me, reminding me of one other thing I needed from him.
“Wait,” I said quickly when his spirit started to flicker. He came back into view, giving me a questioning look. “What do I do if Mary Beth thinks I’m lying?”
It had happened more than once before. One woman had actually called the cops after I gave her the goodbye message from her husband. I was fifteen at the time. The cops had taken me home and left me in the care of my mother. She had sent me to my room with the order not to say a word to my father—or anyone else, for that matter. It had made an impression on me, though. After that, I always made the ghosts tell me something only the person who was receiving the message would know to prove I wasn’t lying or just being cruel.
“Tell me something I can tell her to prove the message really came from you,” I told him when he looked confused by my question. “People kind of freak when they get a message from the other side, you know?”
He thought about that for a second and then his lips turned up in the sweetest smile. For that one second, he looked positively angelic. I didn’t know how I was going to swing it, but I was going to make sure his time haunting the hallowed halls of OA came to an end.
“Tell her the kiss she gave me that night, just before the bat scared her, was the sweetest I ever had. I still smell her perfume on my skin. She smelled like roses. She never told anyone about that. There are only two people who know about it, me and her. She’ll know you’re telling the truth.”
I watched him disappear, thinking that was the sweetest—and probably the saddest—thing I’d ever heard. As soon as he was gone, I shook myself and went in search of Blake to tell him about the research material I had just bargained for. He listened to me in silence, his arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow arched, until I was done.
“Okay, let me get this straight,” he said, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at me. “You just made a deal with a dead guy for research material he may or may not have in exchange for you delivering a message that you may or may not be alive to deliver. Is that about it?”
“Yeah,” I told him, shrugging. “So, let’s get out of here and go get the stuff.”
“Did it ever occur to you that this might be a trap?” Blake asked, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling like he was praying for patience. “Em, demons can see the dead, too. For all we know, Bastian’s got his own deal going with Casper.”
“Then we’ll all go,” I told him with another shrug as I turned around to go get my backpack and purse.
I heard Blake’s exaggerated sigh behind me and had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t laugh. I could practically hear him thinking about what a pain in the ass I was. But I was the pain in the ass that had just bargained for the best material we were likely to find on demons, so I was entitled to a little indulgence on his part.
“Fine, Em,” he said, catching up with me. “Give me the address and Tyler and I will go see if this stuff is there.”
“But, I want to go,” I told him, frowning up at him.