But maybe not down behind the seat, near the floor. My skin crawled. But I had to know.
The car kept getting darker as flurries piled up higher on the windshield. I unbuckled my seatbelt in the cold gloom, twisted around in my seat and slowly pulled myself up so I could see over the back. Just a few empty coffee cups. But that didn’t mean the demon wasn’t still here…somewhere...invisible.
My heart hammered hard in the frosty stillness.
I gripped the back of the seat with my hands and looked with narrowed eyes around through the darkened back and side windows of the car. All I could see beyond the few snowflakes that clung to the glass was the oddly-deserted bridge, which was suddenly pelted by a powerful northerly wind that rocked the car and threw me off balance. It blew sharp wisps of snow up and over the guardrail. It howled beneath the belly of the Demon. I might as well have been lost on some desolate tundra in Northern Canada. Where were all of the cars?
I turned around, slid back down in my seat and buried the fingers of my left hand in my hair, pulling my scalp tight, letting my mood evolve.
“Demons are real,” I whispered. I felt the evidence on the back of my head again. How long had they been in my life? The urge to lie and deceive? The thoughts of hate and hopelessness? How much of that had been me and how much had been…
Crap! If I’d stayed on course tonight, I’d be dead right now, fueling a fiery wreck beneath the bridge.
But I wasn’t.
And my fear gradually gave way to the soul deep conviction that I wasn’t alone. Not ever. I thought of my Playlist, and then I reached under my shirt and pulled out my grandmother’s ring.
“Have faith,” she’d said.
“Angels are real,” I murmured. And of that I was sure now. My Angel, or God, or something, had intervened tonight to keep me from driving off this bridge. The images of the people in my life who loved me—I hadn’t come up with those on my own. I replayed them in my head, feeling more and more secure as the images unfolded—until I got to the last one. I yanked my hand out of my hair and sat up tall, my breath releasing in a quiet gasp.
“I need you,” Michael had said. The images hadn’t been revealed in a dream. They were more like vivid thoughts, but…
Had someone sent up another S.O.S. flare for him? Was he not gone after all? Then my heart stopped cold.
What if the demons were after him, too?
I was suddenly seething. Souls are never destroyed, right? How could I have been stupid enough to believe Michael was beyond my help? That I was beyond help? I screw up and so…what, I go and hide under a rock and feel sorry for myself? Okay…so maybe I screwed up really badly, but bad enough to end it all?
And that’s just what the demon had wanted. It wanted me dead.
I don’t know how this knowledge came to me, but I could feel it in my bones now. My heart rate spiked again, but not because I was afraid. I was pissed. And I had a new target.
“I know you’re here, now,” I whispered, and my eyes darted reflexively to the rearview mirror again. “I don’t know what you want or why you want it, but I won’t run next time. I’ll fight back. I won’t let you destroy my life or the lives of the people I love.”
And I’d start tonight. I’d go home and try to make everything right. I couldn’t do anything for Mina anymore, and I’d have to live with that, but I could plead for my mother’s forgiveness. I could tell her I loved her, and that I would be there for her now. God…how was I going to face her? How was she supposed to forgive me when I didn’t know if I could ever forgive myself? I rubbed my hand through my messy hair, my stomach souring. I was sliding again.
Fear.
Despair.
A sense of supreme unworthiness.
They stalked me. I glanced upward at the dark roof of the car and begged for strength. I’d have to face my sisters and my friends, too. I’d hardly spoken to them in weeks. And then there was Jason, falling into heroin addiction right under my nose.
And Michael. I blinked hard.
“I’ll find you,” I whispered. “If you’re still here somewhere, I’ll find you. I’ll fight for you. And somehow I’ll make you believe.” And with that thought, I shoved the key in the ignition and started the car. I sent the suffocating blanket of snow on the windshield flying with the wipers, revved the engine and pulled back onto the highway.
Not far down the road, I passed a semi with a blown tire jack-knifed across the highway. It had traffic tied up for miles in the oncoming lane. That explained the lack of cars on the overpass. There were accidents in both directions. I shuddered to think what would have happened if I’d gone into that spin with other cars on the bridge. I could have taken out more than just myself.
I was just slowing down and checking my brakes when I felt my cell buzzing in my jeans pocket. My mom and dad had probably been trying to call me. They were probably frantic. I dug the phone out of my pocket with one hand.
“Mom?”
A broken voice answered instead. “Cate? Can you meet me at Jai Ho? The heroin, I can’t stop. I thought I could, but…” It was Jason. I could visualize his strung-out eyes through the phone.
I was torn. He was such an arrogant ass, but he’d been there for me so many times.
He’s not worth it. GO HOME!
Warning thoughts roared through my head. Did the demons want me to turn my back on one more person in my life? Were they laying another guilt trap for me? What if he overdosed and died tonight?
“Okay,” I said into the phone. “We can talk at the coffee shop, but only about getting you clean.” It was a public place. I’d be safe there. I heard ragged breathing but no response.
“Jason?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said. Then the line went dead.
The wheels of the Demon splashed into the icy parking lot of Jai Ho about twenty minutes later. I didn’t see the Audi, so I stayed in the car and pulled out my phone to text my mom. Crap. She’d called three times, but I didn’t want to talk to her until I could do it face to face.
Instead, I sent: cant talk now. explain later. c.
When I was finished, I looked up. Still no Jason. Maybe he’d driven a different car? I glanced one more time warily into the backseat, then climbed out of the car and hopped over a pile of dirty snow to the curb. The night air was damp and smoky-cold, and I hugged my arms in close to my chest, wishing again for my coat.
It was warm inside, almost too warm, and the coffee shop windows were fogged up, obscuring the view of the parking lot. I glanced around at the steel tables. No Jason. I knocked on the guy’s bathroom door, but no one was in there either. Maybe he’d decided he wasn’t ready for help yet.
I thought about getting some tea and sitting down to wait, but my mom and dad would be worried, so I pushed back out into the winter air. My congested lungs tightened up almost immediately, and I reached down to feel the reassuring lump of my inhaler in my pocket. It wasn’t there. It must have fallen out in the car.
Shit. I was so sick of being sick. I kicked my feet crossly through the snow at the curb, yanked the car door open, and slid behind the wheel. As I pulled the heavy door closed, a flash of movement caught my eye, and then my head was immobilized by a thick gloved hand gripping my forehead and cold steel pressed against my neck.
“You really should learn to lock your doors.”
My heart leapt into my throat. The tight voice came from the back seat, and my eyes flicked to the rearview mirror again, fully expecting to see a pair of shiny black demon eyes staring back at me. But the icy blue eyes I saw belonged to Jason. They were feral. Self-destructive and wild.
“Jason…you don’t want to do this…” I choked out, but I reminded myself I wasn’t alone, and a wave of peace and strength enveloped me.
Stay with me, please, I prayed.
“You and I need to talk,” Jason said. “Drive.”
“We can talk here,” I countered, breathless.
He slid his hand down over my
face and grabbed my chin, steadied it, and then nicked my throat with his grandfather’s blade. A blast of wind buffeted the car, and my eyes flew open wide.
“Drive, Cate. Don’t be stupid.”
I mashed the key into the ignition, mumbling, “I’m not the stupid one.” He relaxed his grip on my chin so I could see the road, but the knife remained firmly planted against my throat. I pulled out onto the wet street.
“Take a left,” he said.
“Where are we going?”
His answer startled me. “Lewis Woods.”
Michael! My heart leapt at the possibility that he’d still be there. But then the horror of the coming attraction sank in. He’d already witnessed so much brutality and violence, and now, if by some miracle he was still there, he’d be forced to watch it happen to me? And not be able to do a damn thing about it? He’d never believe after that.
“Why Lew—”
“Just…shut up, Cate! I’ll tell you when we get there.”
Jason was tense and quiet until we turned onto Cedar Point Road and descended into the snowy gorge. His fingers quivered inside his glove. “Damn it, Cate! I told you to let Michael’s death go! Why couldn’t you listen to me?”
“I’ll listen, Jason, but it’s the heroin talking! You don’t know what you’re saying!”
“I told you. I’ve got it under control. When I find a connection for methadone, I’ll stop.” But his cracked voice betrayed his addiction. He rubbed his damp forehead roughly against the tender demon bruise on the back of my head, and a chill ran up my spine. Could demons be stalking Jason, too?
“Jason, you need help. I…I think there might be demons—”
“We’re back to that? God versus the Devil?” His laugh was thick with condescension. “Now who doesn’t know what their saying? There is no God, Cate, haven’t you heard? He’s dead!” Then he paused while he searched his mind for a quote. “I give you instead the Ubermensch—”
“You wrote that on the bridge?”
“You saw that too?” His tone held an out-of-place mixture of surprise and pleasure. It turned my stomach.
“So you think you’re the Ubermensch? Some kind of superhuman? A demigod?” Shit…he had some kind of a freaking God complex.
“No…maybe…Nietzsche says, ‘Man is something to be overcome. What have you done to overcome him?’ Cate, listen to me. There are so many drugs out there now that can help us do that. Help us overcome ourselves, all our flaws—”
“You mean like heroin?” I asked harshly, challenging his argument. “I didn’t know people used heroin to improve themselves.”
“It was just a benchmark,” he spat.
“Oh…I get it! All for the sake of science? How’s that going for you?” He knew he was fucked. You didn’t mess around with heroin without getting burned.
“It would have gone fine if you hadn’t stuck your self-righteous nose in. There’s no way I’m getting sent off to some west coast rehab center to suffer through withdrawal and have some paid-to-be-my-best-friend shrink pick apart my brain while everything I’ve worked for is destroyed. I can’t. I won’t. Now SHUT UP!”
I pulled into the unplowed parking area of Lewis Woods shortly after that. The Audi was already there. That scared me more than the knife. It meant Jason had a plan. It meant he was leaving here alone. He adjusted his grip on the knife and said, “Get out of the car, Cate.”
I panicked. “I thought we were going to talk!”
“We did. I’m done talking,” he said. “Let’s go.”
And it finally sank in. He was going to kill me.
“I don’t have to tell anyone, Jason! I can back off…”
He pressed his lips together in a hard line and sharpened his tone. “You and I both know you won’t do that. You’ll never stop until you’ve proved Michael was innocent when he died.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he squeezed my jaw tighter.
“I found your letters, Cate. After you refused to listen to me again today, I came out here to the cliff to try to understand, and I found your letters to him in the tree. You’re obsessively in love with him, though I still can’t figure out how or when that happened. Now get out of the car!”
If I got out of the car, I was afraid I’d never get back in. “You said you cared about me!” I cried.
Jason winced, but then he reached for the driver’s side door handle, and the blade slipped away from my throat. I knocked it out of his hand and lunged for the passenger door only to have him throw his arm around my waist and drag me back. I glimpsed my inhaler on the floor and tried to snag it with my fingers, but I dropped it in the snow outside as he yanked me out of the car.
He held onto my arm while he grabbed the knife and my cell phone off the seat, retracted the blade, and stuffed them into his pocket. “I did care. You used me,” he said flatly. “I took care of you every time you came to me for help, and you repay me by wanting me to turn myself in to the cops? Tell them Michael was clean when he died, and that I know this because Shawn called me for drug advice? You want me to ruin my own family’s name? Give up all that I’ve accomplished? For someone who’s dead?”
He pushed me ahead of him, and I fell on my knees in the snow, my bare hands breaking through the sharp top layer of ice. The arctic air cut right through my sweatshirt and rushed down my throat to sting my lungs. They pulled in tighter. Shit. My breathing was only going to get worse.
“Get up. This is where you want to be anyway, with him.” I felt the tips of his fingers reaching down and around my ribcage, and I pushed up onto my toes and heaved myself forward, up and out of the snow. My hands were wet and freezing, but my feet were warm in my boots, and when I got them under me, I sprinted sideways and tried to get the car in between us. If I could just get back inside and lock it…
Jason cursed under his breath, but he had his arms wrapped around me from behind in seconds. I was no match for him.
“NO!” I shrieked, struggling violently. “Think about what you’re doing…Jason!”
He wrestled with me until he had his left arm wrapped around me and the knife out and pressed to my throat again. “If you don’t want to die right here, you’ll walk,” he hissed, “and you won’t make another sound.” He loosened his grip and then pushed me forward across the vast silver-lit field. I kept calm by focusing on the mouth of the woods in the distance. I saw the pale translucent figure in the black sleeveless shirt and cut-offs when we were about two-thirds of the way across. He was crouched at the very edge of the tree line, tense and ready for war.
“Michael!” The strength of my emotions should have carried my voice all the way to the cliff and back, but it came out just a whisper. He needed to know we weren’t alone, that we never had been. He needed to know it before the coming violence permanently destroyed his faith.
Jason was shocked by my outburst. “What the hell?”
“LET HER GO!” Michael’s eyes were deep gray craters of volcanic hatred, and his voice was a cataclysmic eruption that should have blown the tops off all the trees in the forest and hurled them into the stratosphere. I thought my eardrums would blow, but Jason didn’t even flinch.
“Michael! The Playlist is real! We have Angels. They’re here. You’ve got to believe me!”
Jason stopped just shy of the entrance to the woods, and spun me around to face him, shaking me roughly. “Are you kidding me, Cate? Do you actually think you see him?” His wild glare shifted from me to the woods and then back again.
I stuck out my chin defiantly. “Yeah, Jason. I do! And he’d kick your ass if he could!”
“See, this is why I can’t let you go! You’re goddamned obsessed.” I yanked backward with all my might, trying to pull away from him, but he was too strong. He twisted me around and shoved my arm up behind my back. I cried out in pain. Then he snarled over my shoulder, “You’ll never stop until you’ve proved him innocent. I can’t let that happen.”
But I wasn’t listening to him. My eyes were fi
xed on Michael’s, which were storming with murderous rage, and I didn’t know how much time I’d have to get through that before—
“What the hell is he talking about, Catherine?” Michael spat.
“It was Jason who Shawn called…” My tight chest heaved hard to fill again. “…about the Ritalin. Jason’s dealing…”
But my words were choked off when Jason yanked up on my arm even harder. Damn it. Don’t cry. I fought against the fresh onslaught of tears but lost. Michael’s sweat-slick arm shot out across the border toward me, but it immediately began to turn brown and disintegrate. He yanked it back.
“I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” he shouted, then groaned, “God, Catherine…I told you not to…” but he was drowned out by Jason’s disturbed whispers.
“See…it will all work out,” Jason explained. “You’ll commit suicide by jumping off the cliff while I tried to stop you. It’s beautiful, really. You want to be with him anyway. That’s what you said in your letters.” And then Jason held me there in the moonlight, immobile, just outside of Michael’s reach, letting his plan sink in.
“He would never want me to do that,” I whispered.
Michael shook his head back and forth, his jaw quivering. “Never,” he said.
“Well then, it’s a good thing I’m not concerned about his post-mortem opinion on that, isn’t it?” Jason said.
“No one will believe I tried to kill myself,” I said. But I had little conviction of that. After my behavior these last few days, I wasn’t so sure.
“Ah…but they will, Cate…” Jason whispered into my ear and then pulled my right arm out from behind my back and shoved up the sleeve of my sweatshirt revealing several pale scars lining my wrists and hands. They were from the cuts I’d sustained the first night I’d seen Michael in the woods. Jason caressed them with his thumb. “Evidence, Cate. I’ll tell them you’ve been cutting to escape your pain.” He rubbed his thumb over the cut on my neck and then looked at the blood on his thumb. “And now your throat, too. Poor thing…”
I looked up to see Michael’s face fill with guilt-soaked misery. Then Jason forced my hand open.
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