They laughed. Class began, and after a few minutes, Mariah passed him a note:
Feel like telling me what was really bothering you yesterday?
Thomas smirked, then decided that one of the reasons he liked Mariah was her directness.
He wrote back, Was it that obvious?
I don't know who was sitting behind me, but it wasn't you. Want to talk about it?
Thomas chewed on his cheek as he stared at Mariah's flowery script. She deserved honesty, but the truth was complicated and embarrassing.
Thinking too much, he finally wrote. Worrying about the future, all the things I'm going to do for the first time. Like finding a place to live and taking care of it, paying bills, getting used to a new town, handling college classes, etc. It's all a little too much.
Her response took a few minutes to return.
I know what you mean. We're going from a place with a routine we've had for four years, to a place with new challenges every day. Like avoiding the extra freshman 15 pounds and wondering if your little cousin will hate you for moving away. (OK, maybe that's just me.) But aren't you psyched to get out of your house?
His reply took a while, too. I suppose. I think what I'm really dreading is losing all my friends. Like Brendan. He's going to LA. I'm going to Maldecido. I guess I'll see him when we're both back in B-Ville. But how often will that be? Christmas, and maybe spring break?
This time, Mariah's response came back quickly. The friendships don't end, they just change. They'll only end if you want them to. And you'll make lots of new friends at SAU. You're really easy to like.
Thomas glowed at that. Thanks, he wrote back. I guess I just really like where I am now and don't want it to end.
Mariah tapped the note when she passed it back. It's NOT going to end. You're going to build on it. You'll do fine. You're sharp, and not the type of jerk who's afraid to ask someone when he isn't sure what to do. Plus, I'll be at SAU with you. Us B-Villers look out for each other.
Thomas grinned. He didn't know where his relationship with Mariah would be when it came time to move to the big city. But he wasn't concerned. They would take on the newness together.
As for now, it didn't matter that she didn't know about his strange sadness of the past few days, or about the dreams he'd had every night of his life. Her ignorance wouldn't hurt either of them.
The empty desk in the corner pulled at Thomas's gaze, and he couldn't help but wonder where Warrenna was. Then he scoffed at himself for worrying. It was probably nothing.
* * * *
Shifting red shapes, blurry edges that pulsed when she looked at them.
And thirst. Profound thirst, beginning deep in Warrenna's stomach and burning every inch of her throat as it clawed its way through her mouth, her nose, even her eyes.
Eventually Warrenna realized that her eyes were closed. The red blobs were actually moving across the underside of her eyelids.
She lay on her back, tucked into a soft bed. Thick pillows propped her head up.
Warrenna felt Alexandria's form beside her, above the covers. After a moment, Warrenna could make out the dark blankets tacked to the wall to conceal the windows. This was her parents’ bedroom. But why was she here? And why was she so thirsty?
Alexandria gently stroked her daughter's forehead, the same way she did when Warrenna was a child.
"Can you hear me?"
Warrenna tried to say yes, but her throat locked up, and her lungs felt like empty soda bottles with the caps screwed on. She was only able to nod.
Alexandria smiled. “Good. You're going to be okay. Aunt Tammy is on her way."
The name sounded familiar, and after a moment, Warrenna remembered that Aunt Tammy was her personal doctor. Though not a familial relative, she had known Aunt Tammy most of her life. In hindsight, Warrenna knew that was because Aunt Tammy knew the most about Warrenna's condition.
That condition being the curse, which was the reason she hungered for the blood of others, and the reason she had no choice in how to live her life.
Warrenna remembered the bathroom, the razor, the burning in her arm. Tears filled her gray eyes, and the thirst burned even more.
I failed. I'm stuck with this life, this body, this bad blood. Only now, my parents know I'm not afraid to end it. I'll never get another chance.
And then she saw the dark marble inside her, in the place where the craving came from.
Only it wasn't a marble anymore. Now it was a sphere the size of a grapefruit, and solid, like steel.
Black and orange tentacles shot from the center of the pulsing mass, wrapping themselves around her heart, strangling what remained of her humanity.
Her head jerked back into the pillow. Oh God, I'm turning!
An image sprang into sight. She saw a pretty girl in the cheerleading uniform, the same girl she passed in the hallway. There were Warrenna's powerful hands, keeping the girl still as she buried her fangs in the girl's neck. The prey whimpered pitifully; her taste was young and pure, and it was wonderful.
A sob choked out of Warrenna's burning throat. Oh, God, no! I've forced my parents to kill me!
Alexandria shushed her and kissed her tears. “You're all right, Renna. You're not going to turn. I'll get you something for the thirst in just a moment. But right now, you need to listen to me."
Warrenna felt her father's rough hand take her own. He stood on the other side of the bed, and his eyes were shining.
"You're much stronger than you think,” Alexandria said. “You can already survive so much. But you'll feel lost and angry until you allow Zera into your life. She will quiet that storm in your heart, and guide you to peace and fulfillment. Forget about the great things we keep saying you're going to do. They aren't important. You are what's important, you and your tranquility. And you must believe me when I say that Zera is the only way. Every other road leads you to this bed, or to a prison, or to your own destruction."
Alexandria kissed Warrenna's forehead and wiped her tear-soaked cheeks with her thumb. “We love you, Renna,” she whispered. “We want you to be happy, and so we're going to do everything we can to convince you to turn to Zera."
She ran a hand through her daughter's hair and sighed. “I'll get your medication now.” She rose from the bed and left the room.
For a while, Warrenna kept her mouth closed as she wept. “How?” she gasped to Richard.
"I checked the bathroom door after about twenty minutes. When you didn't answer, I broke it down. I was trying to fix it just now."
That explains the thunder in the dream. She saw the sandy hills again, but the pain drenched her vision in deep crimson. She shivered, and her father squeezed her hand.
A tear slipped down Richard's cheek. “Renna, I really am sorry. I didn't want it like this. No one should ever be born with this curse. But Zera has done so much for us, and everything she's asked us to do has helped us survive. I have to trust that there's a good reason for this. One that doesn't sacrifice your happiness."
Warrenna was too ashamed to look at him as he continued. “All right, I know your mother's a little fanatical, okay? But she's absolutely right about this. You need a relationship with Zera, or else you'll be overwhelmed by what you are. Zera may be cold, but she's wise, and without her cleansings, I'd be a monster. I know you can't really see that there's a good reason why she brought you into this world. But you have to trust that there is one. It's either that, or go crazy."
It's too late, Dad. Can't you see? I'm already crazy.
Alexandria returned with a tall glass filled with a warm, bubble-gum-pink fluid. She instructed Warrenna to drink it all. The liquid was sweet and thick, and it dulled the pain in Warrenna's throat.
"Now rest,” Alexandria said. “Your strength will return quickly, faster than you think."
Warrenna knew that medicine. As a child, she called it the Last Resort. When nothing else cured her stomachaches, she got a teaspoon of the cotton candy-flavored medicine. Now, she knew that the sugar
masked the wonderful taste of human blood.
I wonder whose it was? I took so much. Will I need cleansings now?
Suddenly Warrenna's eyelids were heavy, and the bed was slowly sinking into the floor. The soft sheets gave way to wrap around her, surround her, enfold her.
Before she slipped away, she heard the low, urgent voices of her parents.
"We call you, oh, Zera, most holy and wise. Cleanse the craving from the blood of our holy daughter."
* * * *
Even, shapeless white surrounded Warrenna, like she lay in the middle of a semi-solid cloud. She heard a rushing sound, like a far-off waterfall.
She saw nothing, but she could smell a whiff of ground black pepper.
"Zera."
A woman slowly appeared in the blankness. Black, twinkling eyes in a shadowless, porcelain face, flowing dark hair, like swooping ravens. She wore a long dark dress whose fabric shimmered faintly, like the midnight desert sky, and whose edges dissolved to smoke as they touched the boundless white.
"Hello, daughter. It has been a long time since you saw me."
Warrenna didn't say anything. The tips of Zera's dress curled, dissipated and reappeared, like dozens of tiny black flames.
"You probably don't remember,” Zera's deep voice continued, “but your last cleansing was four years ago. It doesn't seem right. I see you every time you dream, yet you only see me when you are in pain."
Warrenna smirked. “I'm just lucky, I guess."
Zera extended her hand, a mere outline of flawless white in the blankness. She reached to Warrenna's shoulder, but Warrenna backed away.
"Can we just get this over with?"
The goddess frowned. “I can be quite useful, daughter. I've been watching humans for a long time, I know a lot about what they do. I hate to see you in pain."
"I don't care what you hate. I don't care if I ever see you again. You made me like this. I will never, ever forgive you for that."
Zera folded her arms, the outlines of white vanishing into the twinkling darkness of her dress. “There are reasons, good reasons that you would not understand."
"Yeah, I'm sure they're good for you!"
Zera sighed and raised a pale arm. A black hourglass, about the size of a shoebox, appeared in her left hand.
"Close your eyes, daughter. This will hurt."
The hourglass turned over, and for every grain of red sand that fell, a new fire ignited in Warrenna's blood.
* * * *
Follow the chain.
Thomas darted through the forest of sweaty young men, keeping Corwyn's thin silver necklace in the center of his vision as he chased his friend back and forth under the basket.
Keep moving your feet. Don't over-pursue. Watch the screener.
Corwyn snaked through his teammates, to the left of one, then to the right of another, cutting close enough to rub shoulders with them. Thomas followed right behind, keeping his eyes on the silver line above his friend's practice jersey.
Near the sideline, he saw Corwyn's hands come up as though ready to catch the ball. Thomas had an opportunity to swat at where the ball was coming from, but he didn't.
The ball never came, and Corwyn immediately plunged back into the grove of players. Thomas didn't go for the fake, so he kept up with him.
Bright orange flickered in the corner of his eye. Thomas turned to look, and then crashed to the hardwood floor. His ears rang, and pain thumped in his jaw.
A whistle blew, and a half-dozen concerned faces peered down at him.
"Whoa, dude, are you all right?” Owes, the backup center, rubbed his elbow as he stood above Thomas.
Thomas wiggled his jaw. What just happened? “Uh, I think so."
"You gotta pay attention to where you are."
Coach Reeves had yelled the warning to the entire team. His leathery face moved to each of the panting players as he barked, “You can get hurt out here, ladies!"
Thomas sat up and rubbed his neck. There was no doubt: that had been Warrenna standing in the bleachers. And she was on fire.
The stands were empty now, but he remembered the vision clearly. Orange flames roared up from her feet, immersing her entire body. Her face was clenched in pain, but her mouth was closed even though she was burning alive. She wasn't crying out for help or screaming in agony. She wasn't even fighting it.
"You all right, son?"
There was no sympathy in Coach Reeves's shouted question. Sweat glistened on his bald head as he stood over his stunned player.
"Yeah,” Thomas said. He scrambled to his feet. “I mean yes, sir. I still got all my teeth, sir."
"C'mere a minute, son."
Coach Reeves led Thomas away from the rest of the team, who now sprinted to the half-court line and back.
Reeves put a sweaty hand on the back of Thomas's neck. His breath reeked of cigarettes. “Listen, Gelbaugh, I don't know what's happened to you these last two practices, but I need you to get your head back in the game. You're an important part of this team. These boys, especially the younger kids, they're influenced by how much you hustle and how hard you work, playing-time or no playing-time."
"I know, sir. I'll be ready on Saturday, sir. You can count on it."
Reeves stared at his player, his dark eyes serious. “Yeah, you better be,” he mumbled. Then he grinned. “Now get out there and run some suicides with your teammates."
"Yes, sir."
Thomas sprinted as hard as he could, and his burning lungs reminded him of the fire consuming Warrenna. He wondered why she didn't appear to be struggling against the flames.
C'mon Tommy. Keep your head in the game.
And for the next hour, he fought to do just that.
Chapter 7
Thomas cruised south on Highway 20 beneath the Milky Way cloud of stars that reached from one horizon to the next in a wide sky-stripe. The black mountains swallowed up his headlights, and the engine's hum sounded muted, far away. The quiet privacy made it easy to think.
And what he thought about was Warrenna. Her vague warning of danger was followed by her absence at school, and then the strange vision of her burning body. A fire that high in the mountains would surely have spread to the forest, and he hadn't seen any smoke rising from the south.
But what if she wasn't at home when the fire started? She could be anywhere. But Thomas knew of only one place to look.
He turned his car onto Burnham Peak Road. After a few minutes, he recognized the clearing where he turned the car around on Wednesday. That led him to the dirt road where Warrenna had walked away from him.
There were no street lights, and tall trees blocked out most of the moonlight, so Thomas slowly advanced into the darkness. The road was rocky and narrow as he gradually descended, and Thomas wondered what he would do if he reached a dead end. There wasn't enough room to turn around, and he didn't like the idea of attempting to back his way up the trail.
But the rutted tire tracks in the dust gave him hope that the road was used fairly often.
Something dashed across the road, and Thomas slammed on the brakes. A coyote stood before the car, his tiny eyes aglow with the reflected yellow headlights. The animal stared at Thomas for a moment, then snorted and disappeared into the forest.
His heartbeat thudded in his ears. This is stupid. I should put the car in reverse right now.
But he had come this far. And he wouldn't have a chance to return in the daytime until after the game on Saturday. And then there was the party afterward.
Figuring it couldn't be too much farther, Thomas released the brake. The car resumed its downward roll.
And then light exploded all around him.
Thomas slammed on the brakes again, squinting his eyes almost shut. Now what?
As his eyes became accustomed to the brightness, he was able to see a series of big lamps in the trees on either side of the road. Darkness remained behind him, but ahead of him, the road extended another twenty yards, then ended before a large two-story house.
The flat-roofed building looked like a brick. A few tiny windows peered out from the face, but mud-colored curtains blocked each of the openings from the inside. The exterior stucco was a similar shade of dirt. Pine trees surrounded the house on every side but the front.
A concrete driveway extended from the garage, and Thomas brought his car to a stop there and got out. It was funny, the closer he walked to the house, the darker the area became. When he reached the front door, the floodlights looked like ordinary streetlights.
Thomas practiced what he was going to say, then rang the doorbell. After a moment, the door was opened by a man with short dark hair and a dark, close-trimmed goatee. The belt of his purple bathrobe was tightly knotted around the hips of his lean frame. Thomas wondered if the man was Renna's father. He looked too young.
The man didn't say anything. His hazel eyes simply stared. He didn't look angry, but he was definitely not smiling.
Thomas fought the urge to run. “Uh, hi. My name's Thomas. I'm a friend of Renna's and I noticed she wasn't at school today. I, uh, thought maybe she'd want a copy of the notes I took in English. I couldn't find a phone number, and since I dropped her off yesterday I sort of knew where she, uh, where you and she live. Uh, assuming that you, uh, live here, and aren't just, you know, visiting?"
The man rubbed the dark rings beneath his eyes and held out a pale hand. “I'll make sure Warrenna gets your notes."
Thomas's own hand trembled as he raised the two scribbled pages and offered them to the man.
"Is Renna okay?"
"Yes, she's just a little sick.” Each of the man's words was carefully pronounced, but Thomas heard no accent.
"Father? May I speak to my friend outside for a moment?"
Warrenna stood behind the man, rubbing her neck. A thin, olive-drab sweater hung on her bony arms, and her hair was pulled away from her pale face. She stared steadily at the man she called “Father,” as though daring him to say no.
Thomas had dealt with scowling fathers before, but something about this one made him not want to say or do anything to win him over. Warrenna and the man held the stare for so long Thomas considered making a break for his car and getting the heck out of there.
The Cure for the Curse Page 6