Prom Nights from Hell

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Prom Nights from Hell Page 8

by Kim Harrison


  Still Josh wouldn’t let go. Ticked, I twisted my arm, and when I reached to grab his wrist in a self-defense hold, he let go as if knowing it. Eyes wide, he backed up a step. “I’m going to follow you home then,” he said, eyes flicking to Seth.

  “Whatever,” I said as I tossed my hair, secretly glad and wondering if maybe Josh wasn’t so bad after all. “Seth, are you in the back lot?”

  Seth came forward, a softly moving figure of grace and refinement next to Josh’s commonality. “This way, Madison.” I thought I saw a hint of victory in his eyes as his arm slipped through mine. No wonder. He’d obviously come to the prom by himself, and now Josh would be the one leaving alone.

  I made sure my heels snapped smartly in a show of confident femininity as we went down the hall to the far set of doors. The dress made me feel elegant, and Seth looked fantastic. Josh and his silent buddy trailed behind like extras in a Hollywood film.

  Seth held the door open for me, leaving the two guys to handle the swinging door by themselves. The air was chilly, and I wished I’d begged for an extra fifty from my dad to get the matching shawl for this outfit. I wondered if Seth would offer me his coat if I complained.

  The moon was a hazy smear behind the clouds, and as Seth escorted me down the stairs, I could hear Josh behind me, talking softly to his friend in a low, derisive tone. My jaw clenched, and I followed Seth to a sleek black car parked illegally at the curb. It was a convertible, its top open to the cloudy skies, and I couldn’t help but smile even wider. Maybe we could go for a drive before he took me home. Cold or not, I wanted to be seen in this car, sitting next to Seth, the wind in my hair and the music cranked. I bet he had great taste in music.

  “Madison…,” Seth said in invitation, opening the door for me.

  Feeling awkward and special all at the same time, I eased into the low front seat, my dress sliding on smooth leather. Seth waited while I got the rest of the skirt inside before gently shutting the door. I put on my belt as he crossed behind the car. The black paint glistened in the low glow of the security lights, and I ran my fingers over the smoothness, smug when I saw Josh jogging to his car.

  Seth startled me when he slid in behind the wheel; I hadn’t even heard the door open. He cranked the engine, and I liked the solid rumble of it. The stereo came on with something aggressive. The vocals weren’t English, but that only added to it all. Josh’s car’s lights flashed on, and we pulled forward, Seth driving with one hand.

  My pulse quickened as I looked at him across the dull light. The cool air felt thick against my skin, and as we picked up speed, the wind worked its way through my hair.

  “I live to the south,” I said when we reached the main road, and he turned the proper way. Josh’s headlamps swung in behind us, and I settled myself in the seat, wishing Seth had offered me his coat. But he hadn’t said a word or looked at me since I’d gotten in the car. Earlier, he’d been all sly confidence. Now it was…anticipation? And though I didn’t know why, a slow feeling of alarm took root.

  As if sensing it, Seth turned, driving the black road without looking. “Too late,” he said softly, and I felt my face blank. “Easy. I told them it would be easy when you were young and stupid. Almost not worth the effort. Certainly not any enjoyment.”

  My mouth went dry. “Excuse me?”

  Seth glanced at the road and back at me. The car started to go faster, and I gripped the door handle, pressing away from him. “Nothing personal, Madison. You’re a name on a list. Or should I say, a soul to be culled. An important name, but a name nonetheless. They said it couldn’t be done, and now, you’ll be my admission to a higher court, you and your little life that will now not happen.”

  What the hell? “Josh,” I said, turning to the lights going distant as Seth picked up speed. “He’s following. My dad knows where I am.”

  Seth smiled, and I shivered at the moonlight glinting on his teeth. Everything else was lost in hazy moon shadow and the shriek of the wind. “Like that will make a difference?”

  Oh my God. I was deep in it. My gut tightened. “Stop the car,” I said forcefully, one hand on the door, the other holding my whipping hair out of my eyes. “Stop the car and let me out. You can’t do this. People know where I am! Stop the car!”

  “Stop the car?” he said, smirking. “I’ll stop the car.”

  Seth shifted his leg, stomping on the brake and turning the wheel. I screamed, grabbing anything. The world spun. My breath left me in a shriek as the odd feeling of too much noise mixed with the cessation of jostling. We had left the road. Gravity pulled from the wrong way. Panic struck when I realized the car was flipping over.

  Shit. I was in a convertible.

  I ducked, hands clasped over the back of my neck, praying. A hard thump shook me and everything went black. My breath was crushed from me by the force of the hit. I think I was upside down. Then I was yanked another way. The sky brightened to gray, and I sucked in the air when the car flipped once more as it rolled down the embankment.

  Again, the sky went black and the top of the car hit the ground. “No!” I shrieked, helpless, then groaned when the car slammed to a stop, upright. I was flung against the seat belt, agony stabbing through my back as I was thrown forward.

  It was quiet. Breathing hurt. Oh God, I hurt all over, and I stared at the shattered windshield as I panted. The new edges of the window glinted dully in the moonlight, and I followed the broken line down the dash to find Seth gone. My insides hurt. I didn’t see blood, but I think I broke something inside. I was alive?

  “Madison!” came distant over my rasping breath. “Madison!”

  It was Josh, and I forced my eyes up to the twin balls of light at the top of the embankment. A shadowy figure was sliding down. Josh.

  I took a breath to call to him, groaning when someone took my head and turned me away.

  “Seth?” I whispered. He looked untouched, standing outside the ruined car at my door in his costume of black pirate silk. The moon caught his eyes and pendant, giving them both a gray sheen.

  “Still alive,” he said flatly, and tears started to slip from me. I couldn’t move, but everything was a massive ache so I didn’t think I was paralyzed. Damn it, this was a sucky birthday. Dad was going to kill me.

  “I hurt,” I said, my voice small, then thought, What a stupid thing to say.

  “I don’t have time for this,” Seth said, clearly bothered.

  My eyes widened, but I didn’t move when he pulled from the folds of his costume a short blade. I tried to cry out, but my breath left me when he pulled his arm back as if to strike me. Moonlight glinted on the blade, red with someone else’s blood. Fantabulous. He’s a psycho. I left the prom with a knife-wielding psycho. Can I pick ’em, or what?

  “No!” I shrieked, managing to get my arms up, but the blade was a whisper of ice passing through me, leaving me unhurt. I stared at my middle, not believing I was uncut. My dress wasn’t torn and blood wasn’t flowing, but I knew that blade had gone through me. It had gone through me and the car both.

  Not understanding, I gaped up at Seth, now standing with the blade at rest and watching me. “What…,” I tried to say when I realized nothing hurt anymore. But my voice was utterly absent. He arched his eyebrows in a show of scorn. My expression left me when I felt the first brush of utter nothing, both new and familiar, like a memory long lost.

  The terrifying absence of everything crept through me, stilling each thought it rolled over. Soft and muzzy, a blanket of nothing started at the edges of my world and moved inward, taking first the moon, then the night, then my body, and finally the car. Josh’s cries were swallowed up in a low hush of a thrum, leaving only Seth’s silver eyes.

  And then Seth turned and walked away.

  “Madison!” I heard faintly, followed by the briefest touch on my cheek. Then even that melted and there was nothing.

  2

  THE MIST OF NOTHING slipped slowly from me in a painful series of prickles and the sound of two people
arguing. I felt sick, not from my entire back tingling so painfully I could hardly stand to breathe, but from the feeling of helpless fear that the hushed, back-and-forth voices pulled from my past. I could almost smell the moldy fluff of my stuffed rabbit as I had curled into a ball and listened to the two people who were my entire world frighten me beyond belief. That they had both told me it hadn’t been my fault hadn’t lessened my grief at all. Grief I had to hold inside until it became a part of me. Pain that adhered to my bones. To cry in my mother’s arms would say I loved her more. To cry into my dad’s shoulder would say I loved him best. It was a crappy way to grow up.

  But this…this wasn’t my parents arguing. It sounded like two kids.

  I took a breath to find it came easier. The last of the haze started to fade with the tingles, and my lungs moved, aching as if someone were sitting on them. Realizing my eyes were shut, I opened them to find a blurry black just before my nose. There was a heavy, plasticky smell.

  “She was sixteen when she got in that car. It’s your fault,” a young but masculine voice said hotly, oddly muffled. I was getting the distinct impression that the argument had been going on for some time, but I only remembered snatches of it amid uneasy thoughts of nothing.

  “You are not going to put this on me,” a girl said, her voice just as hushed and determined. “She was seventeen when he flipped her coin. This is your screwup, not mine. God save you, she was right in front of you! How could you miss it?”

  “I missed it because she wasn’t seventeen!” he shot back. “She was sixteen when he picked her up. How was I supposed to know he was after her? How come you weren’t there? You slipped up big time.”

  The girl gasped in affront. I was cold. Taking a deeper breath, I felt a surge of strength. Fewer tingles, more aches. It was stuffy, my breath coming back warm to me. It wasn’t dark; I was in something.

  “You little piss-ant!” the girl snapped. “Don’t tell me I slipped up. She died at seventeen. That’s why I wasn’t there. I was never notified.”

  “But I don’t do sixteen,” he said, his voice going nasty. “I thought he was flipping the boy.”

  I suddenly realized the black blur throwing back my breath was a sheet of plastic. My hands came up, and my nails pushed through it in a stab of fear. Almost panicking, I sat up.

  I’m on a table? It sure felt hard enough for one. I shoved the plastic off me. Two kids were standing by a set of dirty white swinging doors, and they spun in surprise. The girl’s pale face went red, and the guy backed up as if embarrassed to have been caught arguing with her.

  “Oh!” the girl said, tossing her long dark braid behind her. “You’re up. Uh, hi. I’m Lucy, and this is Barnabas.”

  The guy dropped his eyes and waved sheepishly. “Hey,” he said. “How you doing?”

  “You were with Josh,” I said, my finger shaking as I pointed, and he nodded, still not looking at me. His costume looked odd next to her shorts and tank top. Both of them wore a black stone pendant around their necks. They were dull and insignificant, but my eye went to them because they were the only thing the two shared. Other than their anger at each other and their surprise at me.

  “Where am I?” I said, and Barnabas winced, a tall form scuffing his feet against the tile. “Where’s Josh?” I hesitated, realizing I was in a hospital, but…Wait a minute. I was in a freaking body bag? “I’m in the morgue?” I blurted. “What am I doing in the morgue?”

  Moving wildly, I got my legs out of the plastic bag and slid to the floor, heels clicking in some weird counterpoint as I caught my balance. There was a tag on a rubber band around my wrist, and I yanked it off, taking some hair along with it. I had a long rip in my skirt, and heavy grease marked it. Dirt and grass were plastered to me, and I stank of field and antiseptic. So much for getting my deposit back.

  “Someone made a mistake,” I said as I shoved the tag in a pocket, and Lucy snorted.

  “Barnabas,” she said, and he stiffened.

  “This is not my fault!” he exclaimed, rounding on her. “She was sixteen when she got in that car. I don’t do sixteen! How was I supposed to know it was her birthday?”

  “Yeah? Well, she was seventeen when she died, so it is your problem!”

  Dead? Were they blind? “You know what?” I said, feeling more steady the longer I stood here. “You two can argue till the sun goes nova, but I have to find someone and tell them I’m okay.” Heels clicking, I headed for the dirty white twin doors.

  “Madison, wait,” the guy said. “You can’t.”

  “Watch me,” I said. “My dad is going to be so-o-o-o ticked.”

  I strode past them, getting twenty feet before a feeling of disconnection hit me. Dizzy, I put a hand to an empty table as the odd sensation roared from nowhere. My hand cramped where it rested, and I pulled it away as if burned when it seemed the coldness of metal had touched my bone. I felt…spongy. Thin. The soft hum of the ventilation grew muffled. Even the pounding of my heart became distant. I turned, hand to my chest to try and make it feel normal again. “What…”

  From across the room, Barnabas shrugged his thin shoulders. “You’re dead, Madison. Sorry. You get too far from our amulets, and you start to lose substance.”

  He gestured to the gurney, and I looked.

  My breath slammed out of me. Knees buckling, I half fell against the empty table. I was still there. I mean, I was still on the gurney. I was lying on the cart in a torn body bag, looking far too small and pale, my elaborate dress bunched up around me in an elegant display of forgotten grace out of time.

  I was dead? But I could feel my heart beat.

  Limbs going weak, I started to crumple.

  “Swell. She’s a fainter,” the girl said dryly.

  Barnabas lurched forward to catch me. His arms slid around me and my head lolled. At his touch, everything rushed back: sounds, smells, and even my pulse. My lids fluttered. Inches from me, Barnabas’s lips pressed tight. He was so close, and I thought I could smell sunflowers.

  “Why don’t you shut up?” he said to Lucy as he eased me to the floor. “Show a little compassion? That’s your job, you know.”

  The cold from the tile soaked into me, seeming to clear the gray about my sight. How could I be dead? Did the dead pass out? “I’m not dead,” I said unsteadily, and Barnabas helped me sit up and put my back to a table leg.

  “Yes, you are.” He crouched beside me, his brown eyes wide and concerned. Sincere. “I’m really sorry. I thought he was going to flip Josh. They usually don’t leave evidence like a car behind like that. You must really be a broken feather in their wing.”

  My thoughts flashed to the crash, and I put a hand to my stomach. Josh had been there. I remember that. “He thinks I’m dead. Josh, I mean.”

  From across the room came Lucy’s caustic “You are dead.”

  I sent my gaze to the gurney, and Barnabas shifted to block my view. “Who are you?” I asked as the dizziness slipped away.

  Barnabas stood. “We, ah, are Reconnaissance Error Acquisitions Personnel. Evaluation and Recovery.”

  I thought about that. Reconnaissance Error Acquisitions…R.E.A.P.E.R.?

  Holy crap! A surge of adrenaline shot through me. I scrambled up, eyes fixed on me on the gurney. I was here. I was alive! That might be me, but I was standing here, too. “You’re grim reapers!” I exclaimed, feeling my way around the table and putting it between us. My toes started to go numb, and I stopped, my gaze darting to the amulet around Barnabas’s neck. “Oh my God, I’m dead,” I whispered. “I can’t be dead. I’m not ready to be dead. I’m not done yet! I’m only seventeen!”

  “We’re not grim reapers.” Lucy had her arms crossed defensively as if it were a sore spot. “We’re white reapers. Black reapers kill people before their coin should be flipped, white reapers try to save them, and grim reapers are treacherous betrayers who brag too much and won’t survive to see the sun turn back to dust.”

  Barnabas looked embarrassed as he shuffled his
feet. “Grim reapers are white reapers who were tricked into working for…the other side. They don’t do much culling since black reapers don’t let them, but if there is a sudden, massive death toll, you know they’ll show to pull a few souls early, in as dramatic a way as possible. They’re hacks. No class at all.”

  This last was said with a bitter voice, and I wondered at the rivalry, backing up until I started going spongy again. Eyeing their amulets, I edged forward until the feeling went away. “You kill people. That’s what Seth said. He said something about culling my soul! You do kill people!”

  Barnabas ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Ah, we don’t. Most of the time.” He glanced at Lucy. “Seth is a black reaper, a dark reaper. We only show up when they target someone out of time, or there’s been a mistake.”

  “Mistake?” My head swung up in hope. Did that mean they could put me back?

  Lucy came forward. “You weren’t supposed to die, see. A dark reaper took you out before your coin should have been flipped. It’s our job to stop them, but we can’t sometimes. We’re here to make a formal apology and get you where you’re going.” Frowning, she looked at Barnabas. “And as soon as he admits it was his fault, I can get out of here.”

  I stiffened, refusing to look at me on the gurney. “I’m not going anywhere. If you made a mistake, fine. Just put me back! I’m right there.” I took a step forward, scared out of my mind. “You can, right?”

  Barnabas winced. “It’s kinda too late. Everyone knows you’re dead.”

  “I don’t care!” I shouted. Then my face went cold in a sudden thought. Dad. He thought I was…“Dad…,” I whispered, panicking. Taking a breath, I turned to the swinging doors and broke into a run.

  “Wait! Madison!” Barnabas shouted, but I hit the doors hard, stumbling through them even though they only swung three inches. But I was in the next room. I had sort of passed through them. As if I weren’t even there.

 

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