“There’s something you need to know about Promise, Hayden.” The urgency in Shannon’s tone snaps me out of dreamland. “All of us who were born here, me and Santiago included—we all had it rough growing up, in the sense of strange accidents happening, some small and maybe insignificant on their own, but when you consider them within a larger picture, they’re not so small.… Santiago likes to tell this story about how when he was a kid, his dog broke its leash and threw itself into the river. It drowned. Santiago thinks the dog did it because it was spooked and wanted to get away from someone or something in the woods.”
“That’s insane,” I say. But is it, really? I want to tell him everything else, about Jen, about that poor seal throwing itself against the glass in the New York Aquarium, about the dead white raven. But I hold back. I wish I could trust Shannon, but I have to admit—I don’t really know him. Instead, I ask, “What about you? Any spooky stories to tell?”
“Well … you know about my mom, right?”
“What happened to her?” I ask carefully.
“You know how close she was to your mom. The things they were involved in … whatever they did in the woods, it affected her. Badly. Ever since your mother’s been gone, mine’s been living in a health-care facility. It’s been almost ten years now.” He wants to say more but doesn’t, hesitation painted across his face.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for what my mother did. I—”
“Stop apologizing, Hayden. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. I visit Mom every other month. She gets anxious easily and her caretakers don’t recommend frequent visits. The weird thing is that for the past year or so, she’s been mentioning you. A lot.”
“Me? What’s she been saying?”
“That you must do what your mother failed to do. That you have a duty to your people and you must fulfill it. Do you know what that means?”
I grow very cold. “No idea.”
A bell rings as the Salon’s main door opens, spilling out Del and Santiago. They’re holding hands, eyes glowing with that fervor of new love you read about in young adult novels. Is that what people falling for each other actually look like? When he manages to tear his eyes away from Del, Santiago says, “I hope you girls are wearing appropriate shoes. Because what we have in store for you tonight requires some serious footwork.”
Shannon shakes his head. “I’m not sure anymore if it’s a good idea, Santi.”
“Why not? It’s the most fun thing to do around here, and you know it.”
“It’s that…” Shannon looks uncomfortable.
“What are you two mumbling about?” Del asks. “And does it have anything to do with that taste of local flavor we were promised?”
Santiago says, “There’s something peculiar to see in these woods, and it just so happens that this … let’s call it an occurrence, happens once a month. Tonight. To say more would ruin the surprise. Just believe me, this is something you don’t get to see in New York.”
“I’ve heard enough to be hooked.” Del shrugs in her nonchalant way, revealing to me that she’s truly intrigued.
It appears the final vote to cast is mine. I find three pairs of eyes on me, expecting me to either ruin the fun or join in. “This occurrence is occurring in the woods?” I ask, noticing how Shannon’s eyes flick from me to Santiago. I wonder how much Santiago knows of my family’s tale of woe and its connection to the forest.
“It’s not too deep into the woods,” Santiago reassures me. The way he says it gives me my answer: He doesn’t know the real reason I’m uncomfortable.
But Shannon knows. He keeps his eyes on mine as he says, “It’s close to the clearing, but not too close.” The emphasis is on not too close.
“Oh yes, the infamous Black Clearing.” Totally unaware of my unease, Santiago continues, “You girls are going to love this. About ten years ago this crazy chick wandered off into the woods and set the forest on fire—”
“Shut up,” Shannon snaps at him, the animosity in his voice giving me whiplash.
Santiago’s mouth drops in surprise, while Del’s face twists with sudden understanding. She lets go of Santiago’s hand. “You shouldn’t joke about these things, Santi,” she says.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Shannon says to me while glaring at a befuddled Santiago.
I shake my head. Tired of being treated like I’ll break if life handles me roughly, I say, “Let’s go. I want to go.”
* * *
The four of us get back into the car. Del and Santi take the backseat this time, most likely so they can make out. As we get on the road, I have to try hard to avoid a compromising rearview mirror reveal of them entangled. I can still hear them, though, whispering, giggling.… I settle deeper into my seat and distract myself by taking sneaky glimpses at Shannon, his hands firm on the wheel.
As we leave Promise’s main street and enter the muddy-road wilderness, we pass by a monument I remember clearly from my childhood. I always thought it was a statue commemorating Promise’s three founding fathers—the western European explorers who mapped this part of the States. But as we circle the gray monolith, I count not three but many shapes. It’s a weird mass of armored bodies, manes of long hair and muscled arms sticking out amidst the fragments of horses, swords, and shields. A ferocious army.
“I never noticed the detail on this thing.” I motion at the monolith. “It’s pretty weird.”
Shannon takes a quick look as we’re passing by. “You’re telling me you’ve never noticed the monument to the Nibelungs that’s been here since Promise was founded?”
I sit up in my seat. “The Nibelungs? Why would they commemorate a statue to the Nibelungs in the Southern Rockies?”
He gives me a puzzled look before switching his attention back to the road. Again, I get the feeling he’s weighing whether to tell me something, and, if yes, how much. “This town was founded by German immigrants. I guess they brought their myths with them.”
“Shannon, what do you really know about the Nibelungs? And I don’t mean the myths and stuff.”
“You really don’t know anything about your father’s work.” Shannon sighs. Before Santi can yell out “It’s classified!” from the back of the car, Shannon blurts out one long breathless sentence. “Professor Holland found an anomalous compound in the blood of some Promise residents, Hayden. He’s calling it the Nibelung strain. It’s groundbreaking. He only needs more samples before he can make a proper scientific claim.”
He only needs more samples. I give Shannon a long, meaningful look before I ask, “What does this compound do exactly?”
Shannon sneaks a look in the rearview mirror, making sure Santi’s too busy to protest. “No one knows for sure, but people whose blood carries this compound … they emit this rare type of radiation. It’s very similar to black-body radiation but also linked to these elementary particles called muons. Have you heard of them?”
32
LOCAL FLAVORS TASTE BITTER(SWEET)
Shannon’s words are ringing in my ears and my mouth burns with follow-up questions, but then Santiago manages to let go of Del’s lips for long enough to start a conversation about our plans post–spring break, making it impossible for me to learn more. I file the information away for now, wondering if Shannon knows about my father’s muon counter hidden in the Manor.
As Shannon directs the jeep toward an unfamiliar road following the edge of the forest, I study his profile. Here is the boy I knew, hiding in the straightness of Shannon’s nose, in the stubborn line of his lips. Yet there’s a new harshness to his cheekbones and chin, a severity I don’t recognize—but that I like. And there’s something else, too—that long thin scar that runs from behind Shannon’s right ear down his neck, not quite reaching his shoulder. It looks like a deliberate, precise cut. I glance away before Shannon can catch me looking.
He announces, “We’re here,” and parks the car off the road. Santi tells us we have to walk up a slight incline, henc
e his earlier remark about footwork.
Every gust of wind feeds on my body heat, burrowing deep, all the way to my bones. When I run my hands over my shoulders to keep warm, Shannon sways my way. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he wants to give me a hug. Ultimately he chooses to keep his distance as we begin our silent ascent to the tree line. Drizzling rain and howling wind combine their efforts to drain all nocturnal magic from this experience. Whatever it is Santi’s determined to show us, it had better be out-of-this-world good. I do need a break from Mom’s puzzles, weird blood trapped in vials, and Elspeth’s thinly veiled threats. I’m betting Del feels the same way.
Breaking his stride, Shannon leans close to me. When he speaks, his breath tickles my skin. “Whatever happens, don’t freak out. I’ve got your back.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand, but Santiago and Del catch up to us and Shannon steps back, not answering.
Our collective mood grows serious as we near the forest. With a heavy heart, I step into the woods. The wind stops, but the drizzle lingers.
As we walk on, I focus on Shannon’s broad back in front of me. Despite my suspicions about the amulet, I find its weight around my neck reassuring.
In the near-total darkness, I hear whatever we’re searching for before I see it: a slow rhythmic buzzing amidst the forest’s subtle symphony of noise. A disturbed owl, awakened too early, hoots in annoyance at the growing buzz of … hushed voices? Chanting?
Shannon stops suddenly, causing me to collide with his back. I start to laugh off my clumsiness, but he turns around and leans in again, as if for a kiss, making me shiver. He whispers into my hair, just above my ear, “Don’t spook them. Keep it quiet, Hay.” Flushed, I take a step back, leaving Shannon’s warm orbit, careful not to break a twig underfoot.
“Step where I step,” Shannon murmurs.
As soon as the forest thins out, our path dead-ends with a cluster of chest-high briar rose shrubs. Kneeling behind the bushes, Santi gestures for us to follow suit. The four of us crouch behind the natural hedge, shoes slipping on the ground. Just as I’m beginning to feel stupid, Shannon takes hold of my hand and pulls me close. I immediately see why—a small opening in the hedge provides a clear view to the other side. Shannon doesn’t let go of my hand, making it hard for me to focus my attention on anything else. But that changes when I catch a glimpse of what’s happening right ahead.
A woman is hanging upside down from a tree, her short, shiny black hair forming a spiky crown around her head, her skin glinting in the dark. I know the woman is naked, but her nakedness is muted by the night, subdued by the sound of otherworldly chanting. Hands crossed over her face conceal the woman’s identity, but there’s really only one suspect here.
As if feeling the four pairs of curious eyes on her, Elspeth lets her hands hang free and opens her eyes. I hear Del giggle, but I’m only partially here right now, with her and Shannon and Santiago. The rest of me is atop Grane, galloping toward the pulsating core of the woods, where my army awaits.
I loosen my fingers and let go of Shannon’s hand. Pulled by Elspeth’s electrifying presence, I feel the urge to move toward her, to join her, to let my blood rejoice in our likeness. “Hayden!” Shannon hisses. He grasps my wrist, anchoring me by his side.
“Let go of me,” I whisper loudly, my shoes slipping on the wet moss. Our little struggle ends when someone joins Elspeth—a man, judging from his height and size, covered from head to toe in a black robe.
The man drops the robe’s low-sitting hood away from his face. Gabriel. Should I be surprised? He helps Elspeth untangle herself from the tree and gingerly covers her with a robe like his own. Mesmerized, the four of us watch as Gabriel pulls a knife from his robe’s folds and takes Elspeth’s hand into his. In quick, practiced movements, Elspeth rolls up her sleeve as Gabriel swings the blade, slicing at her skin to draw blood.
Right above my head, a raven cries out so loudly that everyone here must have heard it. And, sure as hell, Gabriel lets go of his daughter’s hand and stands up straight. Elspeth hides her bleeding hand in her sleeve and stares at the shrubs where we’re hiding.
She takes a step in our direction, walking into a patch of moonlight. She’s a vision from a horror movie—her face twisted with the mad triumph of a ghoul. Her eyes meet mine through the hole in the hedge. “Care to join us?”
Santi barks, “Run for it!” But we’re already dashing away. Shannon’s at my back, urging me on, and though every cell in my body is screaming at me to turn around and join Elspeth and Gabriel in their grisly ritual, I run, and I don’t stumble.
But I know I can never outrun the Nibelungen blood thundering through my human veins.
33
WARPED LOGIC
Out of the woods, the rain’s power is absolute. It assaults all my senses, cooling my blood. The four of us cover the distance from the forest to the car at a brisk pace, balancing on the muddy path and waving our hands like flightless birds whenever we take a particularly slippery turn. The entire episode in the woods imprints on my memory as a series of snapshot moments, half-developed Polaroid pictures—Elspeth hanging upside down on a tree; Gabriel wielding a knife; me running away.
I propel myself into the jeep next to Shannon. He doesn’t waste time, sending the car rushing into the night.
“What the hell was that?” Del yells, fighting off hysterical laughter.
“Some of Promise’s more eccentric locals,” Santiago says, mirroring her incredulous tone. “But don’t worry. We wouldn’t take you girls to see this if we weren’t sure it was completely harmless.”
“But what exactly was it?” Del insists.
Santiago tells her something ridiculous about a local Wiccan coven that makes me wonder whether he really has no clue or if he’s placating Del on purpose.
I stay quiet, lacking the energy to pretend what I just saw in the woods was nothing but a harmless obsession of bored small-town residents. My darkening mood spreads to the rest of our group, and we drive the rest of the way to the Manor in loaded silence.
* * *
Del whispers into Santi’s ear and flutters out of the car, heading decisively for the Manor. Santi jumps out of the jeep after her, disappearing into the house. That leaves me alone in the car with Shannon. His eyes glow a gentle green from the car’s digital displays. I need to get on with my plan before I become all blushing and stuff. “The lab at the research base, it’s equipped to run blood tests?” I ask.
A cautious nod. “Correct. State-of-the-art tech.”
“And you said my father needs more blood samples to test his … hypothesis?” That earns me another nod. “So if I donate some blood samples for Dad’s lab, will you promise to tell me if there’s anything off about them?” Like that compound, the Nibelung strain, for instance.
“Is this a sample of your blood we’re talking about? Because we already have yours. It’s still being processed.”
“No, it’s not my blood.”
“Whose blood is it then?”
We’re just a couple of regular vampires, talking casually about blood.
I pause and consider how much I should tell him, but he saves me by saying, “Doesn’t matter. I’ll do it for you anyway. When can I have these mystery blood samples?”
“Come with me.”
* * *
When Shannon lingers on the Manor’s threshold, I make some half-baked joke about having to invite him in and then rescind my invitation just to keep things interesting between us. He runs his fingers over the line of runic carvings decorating the doorframe, his face scrunching up in distaste. A faint alarm bell begins to ring in my head. But then Shannon steps over the threshold and enters the house.
I continue watching him as he studies his surroundings; he takes long looks, zeroing in on this and that. His inspection doesn’t miss the antique candelabra hanging from the ceiling or an oil painting of a raging ocean so wild that it’s more black than blue. Mom painted that. Dad left it he
re, reluctant to bring any unnecessary memories of her with us to New York.
I beckon Shannon to follow me upstairs. Passing by Del’s bedroom and hearing hushed voices and laughter add a certain awkwardness to inviting a boy into my room. I wish I had Del’s unbending confidence as well as her no-bullshit attitude toward romance, but I guess I have to make do with what I’ve got. Before I let Shannon in, I warn him, “My room as it is now is not representative of my personality. I thought I’d mention that.”
“You mean you took down your Labyrinth posters and pink wallpaper?”
“Oh God, you remember that?”
“Well, yeah. I did spend a lot of time in this house.”
I open the door and walk inside, Shannon behind me. A nostalgic expression lingers on his face when I sneak a look. “Keep an open mind.” I extract the metal box from the closet and set it on my bed.
Arms crossed tight over his chest, Shannon eyes the box like it’s a rattlesnake ready to bite while I fish the keys out of my bag and locate the smallest, simplest one. My fingers keep slipping until I steady myself and insert the key into the lock. When the box clicks open, revealing the vials, Shannon’s face twists in distaste, mirroring his expression at entering the Manor. “Where did you get that?”
“Found it in the basement.”
“Can I have a closer look?”
“Knock yourself out.”
Shannon sits on the edge of my bed and picks up one of the vials, exposing it to the light. “Your mom’s initials. And the rest?”
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