Gaia’s breathing slowed as she took in the scene around her. In a moment she had assessed that this scene was pretty much over. She picked up her books, feeling the tension already starting to fade away. Breathe in, breathe out. Don’t look at the blood.
Zack leaned against the wall, panting. Gaia’s gaze swept him and determined he had suffered no serious physical damage.
It was over. Gaia hoped the guys would be gone before a teacher or another student found them lying in the hall. But even if they were discovered in their current, pitiful condition, she doubted they would ever point the finger at her. She was, to these assholes at least, just a skinny, blond girl.
“Wow. That was, uh, incredible. We were … incredible, huh? You’re … Wow … Thanks for …”
Gaia shifted her attention back to Zack. “Uh-huh,” she said, turning her back and striding down the hall toward chem lab. She at least wanted to make it to her desk before her legs gave out.
Even though this always happened, still, Gaia never got used to it and always hated it. During a confrontation, a fight, she was unstoppable—iron and poetry in one freakish, muscle-bound body. But afterward, when danger had passed, her body took a little breather, and she literally couldn’t stand up.
Gaia hurriedly ducked into class with a murmured apology to her teacher, Mr. Fowler. A wish flashed through her mind as she sank into her seat—that she could have protected Mary in the same way. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Skizz had succeeded in killing Mary because Gaia hadn’t taken care of him when she should have. She had beaten him almost to death just days ago. But sentimentality, some warped sense of right and wrong, had prevented her from finishing what she’d started. And Skizz had retaliated, but by going after Mary, not Gaia.
Now Gaia would have to go after him.
Time to Blow Sam’s Mind
HEATHER GANNIS EXPERTLY SLID HER long, silky, shiny dark hair over her shoulder and shifted her weight in her seat. In the desk next to her Melanie was picking at her split ends behind her textbook. Typical chem lab activity.
“Okay, class, what happens if I take the potassium nitrate and add it to its inverse?” Mr. Fowler asked from the front of the classroom.
“You pass out from the fumes and we get out of class early?” Melanie whispered. Heather grinned with a careful mixture of amusement and detached boredom.
The classroom door opened, and Gaia Moore slunk into her seat, two rows over and one back from Heather. Involuntarily Heather’s stomach clenched, her knuckles slowly turning white on her ballpoint pen.
Melanie’s brown eyes focused on Gaia. “What is she doing here today?” she whispered.
“I know.” Heather nodded. “Mary Moss was killed two days ago,” she said softly. “You’d think that Xena, Warrior Bitchtress, would miss a few days of school.”
Melanie smiled appreciatively. “You’d think,” she agreed.
But no, Heather thought bitterly, here she is. Looking as usual as if she slept in her Goodwill clothes.
A loud thump suddenly echoed from behind the two girls, and they both turned to see where it had come from. Gaia’s head was now slumped down on her desk. How rude.
Melanie swallowed a delicate snort.
Heather smiled again. Thank God for people like Melanie. People who adored her. People who agreed that Gaia was a complete loser.
Ducking her head so Mr. Fowler couldn’t see her lips moving, Melanie went on. “You know, I can’t believe that anyone could like her, anyway. But Mary seemed to. Now Mary’s dead, and Gaia doesn’t even look upset. What a bitch.”
Heather nodded quietly. She completely agreed with Melanie, but right now she wasn’t in the mood for gossip. She settled back, letting a studious look come over her face. Gaia Moore, girl loser. Ever since Gaia had shown up last September, Heather’s life had taken a decided turn for the worse. In fact, until last September just about the only really awful thing that had ever happened to Heather had been her boyfriend Ed’s accident, leaving him wheelchair bound. Heather shook her head. That was past history. A rough time. She was just thankful that she and Ed, after all this time, could still be friends. But why was a great guy like Ed also friends with that bitch? It didn’t make sense.
Since Gaia had come here, Heather, the most popular girl in school, had been stabbed and almost died, had lost a good friend, had been burned with hot coffee, had been picked on and teased, and had practically broken up with Sam.
Oh God. Sam Moon. A photo montage, complete with corny, tinkly French music, began to play in Heather’s brain. Sam, sitting at an outdoor table at Dojo’s, eating a huge plate of french fries. The day he had bought her a Celtic love knot pin from a street stand in Soho. Sam, unbuttoning her shirt, breathing soft against her cheek. Heather’s eyes drifted closed as Mr. Fowler droned on about the false distinction between organic and inorganic substances, blah, blah, blah.
Heather and Sam had been going out for nine months now, and the last four months had been really iffy. They had been filled with anger, jealousy, hurt, infidelity. But mostly they had been filled with Gaia Moore. Gaia talking with Sam, Gaia appearing in Sam’s dorm room, Gaia distracting Sam, invading their lives. But Heather wasn’t the type to lose without a fight. It was time for her and Sam to get back on track. Time for Heather to reclaim her hold on him and put Gaia out of his thoughts forever. After all, she was Heather Gannis. If she couldn’t hold on to a boyfriend, who could? Yes, it was time to unsheathe her claws. Time to blow Sam’s mind. Heather smiled.
“What?” Melanie whispered.
Heather snapped her mind back to chem lab and noticed her friend looking at her expectantly. The same way most of her friends looked at her most of the time.
“Oh, nothing,” she said.
GAIA
So I’ve been trying to come up with a snappy reply to all the “I’m so sorrys” I’ve been getting about Mary. Today at school was pretty lame. Most of those assholes didn’t even know Mary, except from seeing her at parties. They didn’t know her favorite band (Fearless), her favorite color (fuschia), her favorite food (sate). Most of them don’t know me either, except by my reputation as a social outcast. So why are they all of a sudden acting like I matter? Why do they even care? All day, during class, after class, I felt their eyes boring holes into me.
When they don’t know anything about me.
You know, I never even told Mary I was proud of her for kicking coke. I never told her how being her friend changed my life. Now I can’t.
I can’t tell her that she taught me how to have fun. I can’t tell her how she taught me to actually be a friend.
Not that it matters now. I’m through with that. The Mary thing. And the friend thing. Ed doesn’t get it yet. But he will. He’ll have to. It’s not that I don’t want to be there for him. But I can’t. I’ve got to start looking out for me. Just me.
There are a few things I need to take care of first. One in particular. But once that’s done, it’s all about Gaia.
Sounds selfish, right?
Well, I am my father’s daughter.
no real gaia
Gaia alone was perfect. Gaia alone was worthy—worthy of her background, her training, her surveillance. Worthy of his attention.
What a Retard
SLITHER. CROSS. SLITHER. ELLA loved the sound her thigh-high stockings made when she crossed and uncrossed her legs. Sort of slippery and grippy all at the same time.
“Really?” Loki turned to face her, his back characteristically against the anonymous white wall of this apartment. At first Ella had been surprised that Loki had chosen a doorman building for this month’s pied-à-terre. Then she realized that the heavy-jowled gorilla in the cheesy maroon uniform downstairs was no doubt on Loki’s payroll.
Ella shrugged, crossed her legs again, and felt a frisson of pleasure and irritation tingling at the base of her spine. “What can I tell you? You offed her friend, right in front of her. But she hasn’t been crying, hasn’t been doing anyt
hing. As a matter of fact,” Ella said thoughtfully, examining one inch-long spiky fingernail, “she’s been slightly less awful, actually. At least she’s coming home for meals. So old George isn’t quite as twitchy about her as he usually is.”
The force of Loki’s intense look made Ella’s cheeks heat. Damn him. Even after years he could do this to her. Blurred images flitted through her mind of Loki in bed with her, Loki sliding next to her, the cords in his neck tightening as he moved. Ella warmed at the memory of his surgical precision, his superhuman control. His skin was smooth, his hair like heavy silk. There had been a painful exhilaration on Ella’s part when they had first become lovers—the young, stupid, beautiful Ella she had been then. Loki was so dangerous, so frightening, so powerful. Yet he had chosen her. Giving in to him had been as strong and as addicting as jumping off a cliff. Now of course she realized that Loki choosing her to be his lover was like Loki choosing Puffs to be his tissue brand of choice. Her stomach tightened. The older, wiser, still beautiful Ella she was today awaited his next question.
“Has she been with her other friends?” came his soft voice. “The wheelchair guy? Ed? Anyone from school? Anyone … else?”
Like Sam Moon, you mean? Ella thought sarcastically. She had to gulp hard to keep a jackal’s grin off her face. Sam Moon had been delicious. Not only had he been fabulous in bed—strong, uncomplicated, and enthusiastic, with the stamina of a Mack truck—but there had been an added layer of pleasure in knowing that Ella was sleeping with the object of Gaia’s affection. She almost laughed out loud right now, just thinking about it. Gaia had been eating her guts out over Sam Moon for months. And Ella had bagged him first. It was almost faith restoring.
On the surface Ella shook her head no, trying to look attentive and professional.
“No. She just doesn’t seem interested. The only time I’ve seen her evince the slightest bit of excitement was when she beat up those kids at her school. Gaia has the emotional capacity of a hyena,” Ella said.
Loki regarded Ella coldly. “She’s a survivor. Like a hyena, you could put her down almost anywhere, and she would survive. She would adapt. She is very strong, our Gaia.”
A tiny muscle twitched in Ella’s smoothly made-up cheek. God, she hated that bitch. To hear Loki salivating over her was perfectly nauseating.
“Uh-huh,” Ella said, trying to keep the sullenness out of her voice. Jesus, how long was this going to go on? How long was she going to be stuck here, playing baby-sitter to her foster daughter? Daughter. When the very name Gaia made a taste like cigarette ashes rise into Ella’s mouth. She swallowed, making a face.
Worthy
LOKI TURNED HIS BACK TO ELLA AND strode over to the windows. It was already dark at four-thirty. From these windows he could see the big X formed by Broadway and Seventh Avenue as they crossed and reversed positions. He sighed. Ella was rapidly reaching the limits of her usefulness. The open hatred on her face when she spoke of Gaia was more than annoying. Still, he knew Ella was under control. She wouldn’t dare touch a golden hair on that beautiful head.
Loki sighed again, this time with pleasure. In the window’s reflection he could see Ella behind him, no longer even bothering to pretend to pay attention to him. The woman looked at her nails, crossed and uncrossed her legs, yawned, gazed at the ceiling. The fact that she failed to be inspired by Gaia was proof of her own inadequacy.
Gaia alone was perfect. Gaia alone was worthy—worthy of her background, her training, her surveillance. Worthy of his attention. Worthy of something more than attention. The fact that Gaia had witnessed the death of one of the pathetic props in her difficult life—had witnessed it and not crumpled, had watched her friend die and yet shown no signs of weakness or trivial human emotion in the days following—well, that just proved how very special his beloved niece was.
A thrill of excitement made his breath come a fraction of a second faster. Gaia was more to him than just a niece. As his identical twin’s daughter, she shared his DNA. She was made out of the very same stuff as he was. It was one more reason to believe her potential was limitless.
Loki had been observing Gaia for quite a while. He had been patient, though sometimes a little cruel. In that time, and especially during the last few months, he had been disappointed by Gaia’s obvious similarities to her father: her sentimentality, her sensitivity. It undermined her strength, her ability to dominate those around her.
But maybe the time had finally come. Maybe Gaia had finally left that childishness behind with the death of her friend. It certainly looked that way.
Soon the chrysalis would split apart. Soon the beautiful butterfly would emerge. Soon Gaia would come and sit by his right hand as his successor—and his equal.
Why Is It Made Out of Meat?
“WHAT IS CHICKEN POTPIE, ANY way?” Ed asked, shoveling a small forkful of it into his mouth. He glanced across the school cafeteria table at Gaia. Day three after Mary’s death and the silence was nerve-racking. Gaia was still showing no signs of weakening or needing comfort. She must really be keeping it bottled up inside.
“What’s a chicken pot? Like a pot just to make chicken in? Where do they get these names?”
Gaia looked up at him and almost smiled. That is, her lips pressed together in a flat line for a moment. Which was the most he’d gotten out of her, besides her snot comment, in three days.
She shrugged. “You didn’t have to make it, you don’t have to clean it up, so what are you crying about?” She took a bite of her own lunch.
Ed opened his mouth to protest, his temper flaring. What was Gaia’s problem? Did she think she was the only one who’d lost Mary? He laid his hands flat on the table, but the thought of Mary took the wind out of his sails. He hung his head and stared down at his lunch, defeated.
Ed and Gaia usually had lunch together, though not in the school cafeteria. They were both big believers in searching for lunch cuisine elsewhere, off campus. They had so many places to choose from. So there was no reason to be sitting here in the cafeteria eating chicken pot … whatever … when Ed didn’t believe for a second that an actual chicken had gotten anywhere near the school kitchen.
Except that Gaia had shrugged when he suggested different dining options. Now Ed stared at her, gathering the strength to give talking another try. He was that kind of guy.
“You know, I’m glad you’re not a vegetarian,” he said, trying to sound cheery and casual and failing miserably. “I don’t get the whole vegetarian thing. I mean, if we’re not supposed to eat animals, why are they made out of meat?”
Not one of his most original lines, and Ed had forgotten what comedian had said it first. Still, even though it was the Ed Fargo entertainment hour, he wasn’t getting any reaction.
“So, got any plans later?” Ed tried again. “Want to come over tonight and watch a movie or something?”
True, Gaia had only been to Ed’s house once before, despite four months of being friends. Just thinking about Gaia seeing his folks again made Ed wish he had kept his mouth shut. His parents, the lovely and charming Mr. and Mrs. Fargo. The ones who were gearing up for his older sister’s engagement party. The ones who were pulling out all the stops for her. The ones who couldn’t help wincing every time his wheelchair bumped a piece of furniture.
He started to say forget about it, but then Gaia met his eyes. Clear blue eyes, as untroubled as a spring morning in Maine. “No, thanks,” she said. “I’ve got some stuff to do at home.”
Ed hated the way her focus slid past him, as if he wasn’t even there. This really had to stop. “Look, Gaia. I know how upset you are about Mary,” he said, just jumping right in. “And I miss her, too,” he continued, watching Gaia’s jaw tighten. “Mary was terrific; she was a good friend. It’s really horrible what happened to her.”
Gaia swallowed and put down her fork. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said stiffly.
“I know,” Ed said, really gearing up now. “In three days you haven’t mentioned her nam
e. I mean, I’m all torn up about it. She was a good friend of mine. You guys were even closer.” He lowered his voice and leaned across the Formica-topped table. “Mary’s gone, and it sucks. We’ve lost a good friend. Can’t we talk about it?” Ed felt upset and uncomfortable, and he was aware that he was walking a fine line with Gaia.
Gaia slowly shook her head, her eyes large and solemn. Her face looked stony and pale, and Ed hated making her feel this way by forcing the issue. But didn’t she know that if she kept it all bottled up, one day she would just explode?
He tried again. “Gaia—I know it’s not the same thing. But after my accident, I was a mess. I was going through every kind of therapy, and I just wanted to die.” It seemed wretched and stupid to be confiding in her this way right in the middle of the school cafeteria. But he had to get through to her. “I was keeping everything inside, too—didn’t want to upset my folks any more than they already were. And I figured I wasn’t going to stick around long enough to worry about having a healthy mental attitude.”
Across the table Gaia remained silent. These were things he’d never told anyone, and he felt like he was burdening her. “Anyway,” he pressed on, “finally I decided to get over myself. Do the best I could. Part of that was just talking about things. Getting it out. The only person I had to talk to was the shrink my parents forced on me. But even he was better than nothing. And you have someone—you have me. I just—I don’t know. I just wish you would talk to me about Mary. I mean, you—it’s like Mary never existed or something.”
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