“Are you ready to scream yet?” he asks, finally breaking the silence.
My eyes flicker to him. He looks worried.
“Your eyes are burning with rage, Bess. What happened?”
“My uncle introduced me to some of my mother’s friends.”
“And?”
“Strangers, Morgan, strangers knew her better than we did. She chose to spend her time with them instead of us, her family.”
He sighs.
I close my eyes in frustration. Morgan knows all about my mother. I told him, not suspecting he’d be another Emma in sheep’s clothing. He told me I needed to let go of the anger, that it couldn’t be healthy for me. He has a valid point, yeah, but I don’t care. Not now, maybe not ever.
“Bess, I’m not going to pretend to understand what you went through or what you’re going through, but I wanna help.”
I so do not want to have this conversation.
“I know how much you hurt, Bessie Mae. You’ve been angry for a long time, but isn’t it time to start to let go of it? She’s the only mother you’ll ever have. You need to try and get past it, to at least think about forgiving her.”
“That’s not fair, Morgan. You’re making me feel guilty and I don’t . . . ”
“You do not have to do anything you do not want to, Cara,” Devon’s voice purrs, whisper soft.
Morgan and I both look up. We hadn’t heard him come in.
“No one invited you in, Devon,” Morgan glares.
“Its fine, Morgan,” I tell him, frowning at the anger in his voice.
“See?” Devon smiles coldly. “She wants me here.”
“She doesn’t know what . . . ”
“And she knows about . . . ”
“You know she doesn’t . . . ”
“Afraid to tell her?”
“Are you?” Morgan dares.
“What are you two talking about?” I demand, unsure where this hostility of theirs stems from. One thing is certain though. I am not going to put up with their bickering, not today. I need them both right now. God knows why, but I do.
“Nothing you need concern yourself with, Cara,” Devon soothes. His voice wraps around me and I shiver. Morgan, I note, has much the same reaction. Does Devon’s voice affect him too?
“I think it does concern me,” I reply, sitting up and swinging my legs over the bed. One of those little flashes of intuition tells me it has everything to do with me and it puts heat into my words. “What’s going on with you two?”
Morgan and Devon take an involuntary step backwards.
“We may not have a choice in telling her,” Morgan whispers.
“You may be right,” Devon agrees, “but that is not why I came in.”
“Why did you?” I ask.
“Something I think you should hear. Come, we must hurry.”
We follow him down the hall and into one of the guest bedrooms. Voices filter through the vent. I go closer. Uncle Sabien?
“No.” Sabien argues.
“They need to know, Sabien.”
“They’re dealing with too much as it is. I don’t think either of them can handle the truth.”
“How can you expect to keep them safe, Sabien?”
“I’m staying here. I promised my sister I’d keep her kids safe. They’re the only family I have left. Besides, we may be jumping the gun here. I haven’t seen any evidence . . . ”
Someone snorts. “Didn’t you listen to what Mark Ashton said? That boy is extremely fast and strong on the field and sometimes, the things he does defies the laws of gravity.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Sabien’s denies. “He’s been playing the sport since he was a small child. Of course he’s good at it.”
“What about Alexandria?” a woman asks.
I realize it’s the people he introduced me to at the funeral.
“What about her?”
“You can’t tell me you didn’t notice her eyes, Sabien.”
My eyes? What about my eyes?
“It doesn’t matter,” he says obstinately. “I’m here and I will keep them safe just as I promised.”
“It would be easier if you just told them the truth.”
“NO.”
“There’s no use arguing when he gets like this,” the woman sighs. “We should get back downstairs before we’re missed.”
I stare blankly at the wall. What the heck is going on?
“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” Morgan asks Devon.
He shakes his head. “I saw them sneak away and come upstairs. I followed them. When I heard them begin to speak of Alexandria and her brother, I came to collect her.”
He turns to look at me. “Your uncle said that your mother died in a car accident, but I do not believe that is true.”
“But why would he lie?”
“Sometimes a lie is better than the truth, Cara.”
Emma said Mom left to keep us safe. Now Sabien is here to do the same thing? What is going on? So many questions. My head starts to pound and my stomach gets a little queasy. I haven’t eaten all day and the stress is making it worse. I need food in order to think.
I hear someone calling my name.
“Emma,” Devon tells me. How can he know it’s her?
I open the door and poke my head out. Sure enough she’s standing at my bedroom door. “Yeah, Emma?”
“Oh, there you are. I just wanted to check on you.”
“I’m fine. I just really wanted a few minutes by myself so I ducked in here where no one would look for me.”
She nods sympathetically. “You should come down and eat something.”
“I will,” I promise. “Just give me a few minutes.”
I close the door and lean against it.
“You do need to eat, Alexandria,” Devon tells me. “You’re far too pale.”
“I’m fine,” I lie. I did need food, but Devon’s pushy manner keeps me from agreeing. It irritates me instead.
“No, you are not fine. You need food.”
I glare at his high handed tone. Devon always assumes he know what is best for me. Arrogance at its worst. All he ever accomplishes is to make me so mad I want to hit something, preferably him. My hands itch to wrap around his neck and wring it.
“Mind your own business, Devon,” I say instead.
“You are my business, Alexandria.” He steps closer, his eyes narrowed.
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Now is not the time for this conversation, Devon,” Morgan steps between us. “I don’t think she necessarily even needs to be present for it.”
“What?” I demand, trying to push Morgan out of the way.
“You are right, of course,” Devon agrees. “We should get back downstairs before anyone else comes looking for her.”
“Ah, no, we’re not going anywhere until you two explain that little comment to me.”
They ignore me.
Morgan opens the door.
They aren’t going to say a word.
“Shall we?” Devon gestures for me to lead the way.
Glaring furiously at them both, I walk stiffly downstairs, feeling their eyes bore into me.
They will tell me what’s going on.
Even if I have to commit an act of extreme violence.
Chapter 17
I stood on the cliffs again.
My mother ran towards me, not stopping until she was inches from me this time. She trembled, her eyes screaming with fear as she looked behind her.
“What is it?” I whispered. “What is it you want from me?”
She looked at me, her face full of sadness and regret. She started to reach out, but let her hand fall back to her side.
“What I have always wanted for you,” she whispered in the sing-song voice I remembered from when I was little girl. Tears welled up in my eyes. She looked so sad. I reached out to take her hand, but stopped as a rush of wind came at us. I thought I heard voices whisp
ering in it.
“I want you to be safe,” she said softly, pulling my attention back to her.
“Safe from what?”
Her eyes flared amber again. “He will keep you safe.” Then her eyes darkened to black pools. Red rings encircled the irises. They blazed with a dark fury. “You should be afraid of him, but you’re not.”
She sounded confused.
Me too.
“I don’t understand . . . NO!”
She stepped away from me and over the cliffs.
This time when I wake up, I’m not screaming.
I’m too terrified to scream.
Chapter 18
Dad and Emma keep staring at me, afraid of my withdrawn mood and my screams in the middle of the night. Jason is having issues as well. He keeps waking up with dirt on his feet and he can’t remember how it got there. Everything is falling apart. Only one thing really terrifies me and that is the fact that I’m truly crazy. The last week has made me admit to myself I might be crazy and my brother could be heading in that direction too. I’m scared for both of us.
I don’t want to go back to Compton. The only thing that my family ever saw was the dorms, the school, and the doctor’s offices. They didn’t see the actual hospital past that first initial visit when I was admitted. The rooms are barren, stark, and colorless. The only sounds you hear are the screams, the rants, and the cries from the other patients. The feel of the safety straps are embedded into the surface memories of my skin. I can feel them digging into my arms even now.
The silence is what bothered me the most. Late at night when everyone was asleep or at least medicated, it would get utterly quiet, the only sounds the ticking of the clock and the beating of my heart. I used to get lost in that rhythm—the sound of the clock and the sound of the pulsing of my blood in heartbeats. It was soothing sometimes and scared the hell out of me other times. It fascinated me. The sound of life, of blood flowing through a vessel, made me almost dizzy with awareness in those moments. It was as if I could hear the whole of the hospital in the sound of its heartbeats. That was when I knew I had to get out of there, when I started to make a conscious effort to look like I was getting better. If I’d stayed there, I’d never get better, I’d get lost in that cadence of blood.
Crazy right?
Uncle Sabien still occupies our guest room. He’s looking for a house to buy, says he’s decided to stay in Jacob’s Fork so that he can get to know his family.
I know better.
I’ve tried several times to question him about my mom’s death, but he always comes up with some sort of reason to leave without telling me anything. Frustration gnaws at me. I want to confront him about the conversation I’d overheard, but he goes out of his way to avoid me.
I am in a foul mood because of this when Connor and I walk into Morgan and Devon’s argument in the second floor hallway. I stop, shocked.
“You have no right,” Morgan hisses.
“Yes, I do,” Devon snarls at him.
Their faces are inches apart and they look like they’re going to start swinging any minute.
“Hey, hey,” Connor tries to get between them. “What’s going on here?”
“It’s none of your business,” Morgan spits out, glaring at Devon.
“Both of you stop it right now!” I whisper, aware of everyone watching. It won’t be long before one of the teachers comes out to break it up.
“Stay out of this, Alexandria,” Devon snaps, his eyes never leaving Morgan’s face.
“Don’t yell at her,” Morgan growls.
“What is wrong with you two?” I demand.
Morgan’s fists clench.
“You want to refuse to tell me what’s going on? Fine. If you want to be . . . guys . . . about it, fine, but you need to stop. You’re both going to get in trouble for being stupid.”
“Mrs. Blaire is coming,” Connor whispers. “Just go.”
Morgan and Devon give each other a final glare and break apart, each headed in different directions.
Janna of course has to say something.
“What’s wrong, Alley Cat, dissention among the ranks?” she laughs. The rest of her little hags smirk at me.
I ignore Janna and go into the classroom. I so do not need this today.
“What’s up with those two?” Connor asks. “They’ve been like this for days. This is the third time this morning I’ve had to break up a fight between them.”
“I wish I knew,” I mutter. Why are they acting so stupid? I can’t shake the feeling it has something to do with me, but what? Argh—I want to scream. Stupid, stupid boys.
“Saidie not here today?” Connor asks, trying to change the subject.
Smart boy.
“No, her family’s going out of town for the weekend. She left yesterday.”
“How are you?” he asks me and eyes me shrewdly. “You look kinda tired.”
“I am,” I sigh. “I haven’t been sleeping very well. Nightmares.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Weird and scary,” I tell him. “I can’t seem to make myself go back to sleep after I wake up. They scare me.”
“Dreams can be like that. My Gran always says that we should listen to them though. They tell us things, help us figure stuff out. We see so much that our minds can’t always process it, but when we dream, we make sense of the things we already know, but just can’t quite grasp.”
“That sounds very . . . ”
“Superstitious, I know,” he interrupts me. “Nonsense stuff, but Gran believes it.”
Mrs. Blaire starts class so I’m unable to question him further. When class is over, Connor rushes out before I can ask anything else either. Runs is more like it, I snort.
I can’t stop thinking about Connor’s dream theory. By the time I get home from school, I am obsessing about it. Can my dreams be trying to tell me something? They’re not just strange, they’re nightmares. Every night. My mother plays a starring role in them these days. Is there a question in those dreams?
It has to be the eyes I decide, focusing all of my attention on the last couple of dreams. I do not want to think about the others. My mother’s eyes flashed amber then black. What do I already know about those eyes that I just can’t make myself understand? Something I don’t want to understand maybe?
I give up on wearing a hole in my carpet and escape the house. I end up in the park below our house—my favorite thinking spot, especially this late in the day when everyone has gone home.
The cold air smells of snow, but it doesn’t bother me. The cold never has. My brother and I both agree we’d rather be cold than hot. It’s easier to warm up than to cool down.
I plop down on one of the swings with a sigh and let the rocking motion soothe me. Connor has to be right. I know it. According to his theory, I already know the answer to some unnamed question. I just need to figure out the right one to ask.
Two sets of eyes, two different reactions.
Safety in one, fear in the other.
Two people I care about?
Amber eyes and black eyes.
Devon and Morgan? Their recent fights come to mind.
But Morgan’s eyes are blue and Devon’s green. Then again why would I be afraid of either one of them? It doesn’t make any sense.
A low, menacing growl interrupts my thoughts and I look up.
Good Lord Almighty.
Not more than fifty feet away from me stands the biggest black cat I have ever seen. It has to be a panther. The only ones I’d ever seen were in books, but I don’t think they are supposed to get this big. This thing is Huge. They aren’t supposed to come into populated areas either and yet here it is.
Its size doesn’t alarm me as much as the way kitty is looking at me though.
Kitty’s eyes say I am dinner.
So, so not good.
“Easy, kitty,” I whisper and stand up.
The cat crouches into a pouncing stance.
This is very, very bad. There’s
no where I can run.
It snarls at me, low and deep.
“Alexandria, do not move.”
Devon comes toward me out of the woods. His clothes are dirty and streaked with . . . blood? He keeps his eyes on the big cat as he approaches.
The cat screams, shifting to face him.
“You need to stay very still,” he says softly.
As if I’m going to move a muscle with that thing ready to jump?
Definitely not.
“I hope you have a plan,” I whisper.
“I do.”
The cat launches itself at us.
Devon shoves me out of its way.
Chapter 19
The cat hits Devon square in the chest with such force it sends them both rolling backwards into the woods. I see claws sink into him before they disappear.
I can’t see them and panic.
Please, God, no. I start to chase after them but the low, snarling growls behind me puts a stop to that plan. I whirl and come face to face with three more of the big cats, all stalking me with deadly intent in their eyes.
This cannot be happening.
“Alex, move, get out of the way!”
Uncle Sabien barrels down the path taking aim with the rifle he carries.
The first shot brings down the cat closest to me. It yowls in pain as it falls not more than a foot from me.
More shots ring out, but I pay them no mind. My attention focuses on the animal at my feet. It’s . . . changing.
I don’t understand at first what I see. It isn’t until the paw begins to shift into the form of a human hand that the reality hits me.
I close my eyes, refusing to believe what I’m seeing.
Snap . . . crackle . . . pop. Muscles tear, cartilage pops, bones snap and shift.
No, no, no, no . . .
It’s not real. I’m dreaming.
Oh, God, please don’t let it be real.
I force my eyes open.
A woman is lying at my feet where the cat had fallen.
No, no, no, no . . .
A dream, just another one of my nightmares.
I will wake up any second now.
Sabien lays a hand on my shoulder, trying to turn me away from the scene.
I flinch away from him.
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