Pretty Monster

by Somers, Jill

  He watched her—nothing but her. “What happened to him?”

  She bit her lip, a pang of pain hitting her. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “One day I woke up and he was gone. Might have died. Might have run away. Might have decided he’d run from one too many gunshots with me.”

  He didn’t say anything, but in his eyes was the same sadness that she felt at the story. She missed that dog. It had hurt, losing him. It had hurt more than losing any of the men she’d lost—until Kurt.

  “Your turn,” he said, probably sensing that it was time to change the subject.

  He had played it safe, but the end result had still been personal for her. It was only fair she play it less safe. But what had she not done that he had?

  There was only one thing that came to mind.

  “I never fell in love.”

  His eyebrows twitched at this, doubt shadowing his eyes. But he didn’t say anything. He simply dropped down into the water, submerged himself completely, and came back up.

  He shook the water out of his hair awkwardly, almost like a wet dog. She tried not to notice how cute the gesture was.

  “What was her name?” she asked him.

  “Charlotte. You remind me of her, sometimes. She was fearless, like you. Headstrong. Wanted to take on the whole world. Make it better.”

  So, he had been in love… with someone like her? When she had first met him, he had loathed everything about her. Was it some kind of twisted grudge he held against this Charlotte girl?

  “But she was different than you, too,” he continued. “Less concerned with what people thought of her. More trusting. She tended to see the good in people. I think you tend to see the bad.”

  Quinn tried not to be offended by this; it was undeniably true. But it still hurt. “What happened to her?” she asked. “This better version of me?”

  “She was killed. Many years ago. And I think that’s about all I can say about that for now.”

  She watched him, just as he had watched her during her story, utterly transfixed. This girl had clearly been the love of his life; she could see it in his eyes. What had happened to her? Had she made it to Siloh with him? Had she been killed there, or out in the real world? Who had done it?

  And had Dash gotten his revenge?

  “Your turn,” she said quietly.

  “Okay,” he said without hesitating. “I never knew my father.”

  She had wondered about this. There hadn’t been any extra desks or offices in the ‘capital’ building Savannah had shown her. Neither Reese nor Dash had ever mentioned their father. But she wondered what the story was.

  She dropped down into the water, stopping just before the water reached her eyes.

  And she rose.

  “Halfway,” he observed as she came back up. “What does that mean?”

  “I never really knew mine, either. But I had the unfortunate experience of meeting him a handful of times. Each more painful than the last.”

  He nodded, watching her. He was waiting for more, she knew. But that was all he was going to get, for now.

  “I never hated my own mother,” she said, not missing a beat.

  He dropped down all the way without a moment’s hesitation.

  Why would Reese lie, she wondered? She didn’t sense dishonesty from Dash. She felt fairly confident that she and Dash could tell when the other was lying. It seemed to be tied to their powers of compulsion.

  “There are things you don’t know about this place,” he told her. “Things you don’t know about her. Things you don’t know about Reese. But they aren’t things I can just tell you… They aren’t things I can just tell anyone.”

  “Why?” she asked impatiently. How was she supposed to trust him—not that she would, but if that was really what he wanted—if he couldn’t even tell her the truth about his own family? About himself?

  “If the things I know were to spread to the wrong people, it would dangerous for a lot of the right people,” he said. “It’s about protection. It’s about safety. Just give it time, Quinn. You’ll learn.”

  She wanted more, sooner, but she knew she wasn’t going to get it. Besides, she understood what he was saying, on some level. It was the same reason they weren’t sharing all of their secrets with each other.

  And that was when he said it. The thing she knew he had been wondering for a long time. The likeliest reason that he had been so cold to her upon meeting her.

  “I never killed anyone.”

  She stood, feet plastered to the mucky, rocky base of the river, eyes riveted on his. It wasn’t a glare, exactly, that she was staring him down with. But it was fierce. Daring him to not believe her. Daring him to keep thinking he knew things about her that he didn’t.

  Her turn.

  “I never wanted to kill anyone.”

  This time, they sank together. Eyes never leaving each other’s. Dropping down into the cloudy water, hair spidering out around each of them, rays of light catching the rippling water and casting strange, magnificent glows upon each of them.

  And still they stared at each other.

  And then they were kissing.

  It was the strangest thing, kissing beneath the water. It was an even stranger thing, kissing someone so powerful beneath the water. It was as if the water around them had disappeared, a strange sensation of fire and electricity replacing it. The streaks of light hitting them seemed to multiply tenfold, and everything else disappeared.

  They broke apart, rose back to the surface, and stared at each other, back in a world so very different from the one just below them.

  “I should go,” he said, eyes straying from hers, voice tight, concerned.

  She didn’t mind. She had a lot to think about, and the last thing she needed was him staying there, confusing her further.

  He hoisted himself out of the water, climbing onto the grass and turning back down to look at her. “Are you staying here?”

  She nodded wordlessly, lifting a wet, dripping hand in a silent goodbye. She would stay there for the night.

  She wasn’t ready to face Haley, anyway.

  7. RORY

  She stayed in the water for quite some time, until her fingertips began to shrivel and her body began to shiver. When she looked up at the sky, she saw that the sun was starting to fade, and she knew she would have to get out and dry off before it went completely away. She climbed out of the water, stretched out into the tall, overgrown grass, closed her eyes, and soaked up the last rays of sunshine.

  She thought of many things as she lay there—everything from Dumpster Dog to her long-lost father to her kiss with Dash. Her mind wandered to Drax, who she could only pray was alive as Dash had said, and then to Haley, who was undoubtedly furious with her. Quinn had always made a point not to use compulsion on her friends back in the real world, but on those rare occasions that she had, they had always been angry with her. They felt betrayed. She didn’t blame them. What was worse than your own friend controlling your mind?

  She finally drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep. Flashes of Kurt invaded her dreams. She was used to seeing his face every night, but it still hurt. She had been responsible for many people’s pain over the years, but he was the only one whose death she was responsible for. I never killed anyone… Had she lied to Dash? Had she killed Kurt?

  She wasn’t the one who had commanded them to pull their triggers, she reminded herself. The man who had was the man she would kill. One day.

  She woke up at the same time as the sun, but she stayed there even longer. She knew she would probably be late for class, but she didn’t care. She had to get her things from her room, and she had no intention of returning to her room until she was sure that Haley was out. She hadn’t decided what she would say to her new friend. She wasn’t sure it would even make a difference.

  She gave it about an hour, lying there, staring up at the sky all over again, thinking. Thinking about Dash. Thinking about Reese. Wondering which of them was telling the truth. Wo
ndering whether they were both lying. In her experience, men lied, and men left. It was why she had never let herself fall in love. It was why it had never even been an option.

  And yet, now, with Dash… it was something new. Something she had never felt before. Not love; not even close… But the unfamiliarity had her worried, and she knew it had him worried, too.

  She finally rose and made her way to the dormitory, anxiously stepping through the front door and eyeing the desk where Drax usually worked. He wasn’t there, of course. In his place sat Angel.

  Not late enough, she mused, glancing at the clock on the wall. If Angel was still there, there was a chance that Haley was, too.

  “Hi,” Quinn said carefully, knowing perfectly well that Angel was not her biggest fan. “Are you covering for Drax today?”

  Angel gave her a sarcastic look. “Clearly.”

  “Right… Any word on how he’s doing?”

  “He’s alive. No thanks to you.”

  Quinn nodded. She deserved every inch of resentment Angel wanted to give her when it came to Drax; she was just glad he was alive. “Did you—erm—did you happen to notice if Haley already left for the morning?”

  Angel’s giant, white wings flapped in annoyance. “Yes. She looked terrible, if you were wondering. Hasn’t forgiven herself for what you made her do. Probably never will.”

  Quinn sighed. “I’m not surprised, but it wasn’t her fault. It was mine.”

  “I know. Everyone knows.”

  With that comforting knowledge, Quinn headed upstairs.

  When she reached her room, she saw something waiting for her on her bed: an envelope with her name on it. She reached for it, unable to remember the last time she’d received a piece of mail, and opened it.

  It was her monthly allowance. About time. But there was more to it than that. Behind the allowance was an additional stack of bills, on which there was a note.

  Because Savannah’s cheap, and Haley’s clothes have never quite fit you right. –Reese.

  She laughed to herself. The timing of Reese sending her a flirty note the morning after she had kissed his brother was bizarre, though she was fairly certain it was a coincidence. If the two brothers were as estranged as Dash had suggested, Reese would have no way of knowing about the kiss. She felt strange about him giving her money, but she wasn’t about to complain. She had a whole new wardrobe to buy, and she doubted the island’s monthly allowance would begin to cover it.

  She put the money into her pocket and headed back out, certain at this point that she was going to be late to class. Of course, with no time to shower, she would show up in the same outfit she’d worn the day before, which couldn’t smell great. But there was something almost comforting about that to her. Who had she been kidding the last two weeks, really? Getting along with everyone, showering every day, sleeping normal hours, eating normal food? Did anyone really buy it?

  Maybe she should just skip class altogether.

  When she opened her door, she learned that Rory had the same idea.

  She didn’t look like herself. She didn’t look like Quinn had ever seen her. In fact, she looked like Quinn had when she had arrived on the island.

  Rory’s normally bright, eager eyes were dull and tired. Her bouncy curls were weighted and heavy. There was a strain—almost a mania—in her expression that Quinn had never sensed before.

  “Rory?” She stooped down to her knees to look the girl in the eyes. “Are you alright?”

  “I need your help,” Rory said, eyes eager, desperate. “I can’t control it any more.”

  “Control what?” Quinn asked, suddenly feeling as desperate as Rory.

  “My power.”

  Quinn had seen it before, particularly in younger deviants—the magnitude of their abilities becoming too much for them. But she hadn’t experienced it personally. It tended to happen to people who hid or ignored their abilities; she had never done much of either.

  Quinn and Rory had become fairly close over the past few weeks, but Quinn still found it hard to believe she was the girl’s go-to in a situation like this. Was there really no one else who could help her?

  “What can I do?” she finally asked.

  “I need Dash. I’ve tried to ask him, but he’s always so busy. He tells me he will teach me in good time. Which is true. Once you guys graduate, and the class below you does, eventually he’ll teach me. But not for years. And I need his help, Quinn. I need it before I do something bad.”

  Quinn put her hands on Rory’s shoulders, doing what she could to calm her. “It’s going to be okay, Rory. But I need you to tell me. What exactly happened that scared you so much?”

  “I just keep… losing control. Hurting people without meaning to. Scaring my classmates, my roommate. I feel like I’m going crazy, and my teachers won’t help me; they just tell me to stay calm, to ‘focus.’ Won’t you talk to Dash for me? Or even just help me yourself? Please?”

  Quinn sighed, pulling the girl into a hug. She considered helping Rory herself, not in any mood to talk to Dash or anyone else at the moment. She liked Rory; she wanted to help her. But Quinn was no teacher. “I’ll talk to Dash,” she promised.

  Rory smiled slightly, but it wasn’t the kind of smile she usually wore, and it was hard for Quinn to see. Until then, Rory had been one of the happiest people she knew.

  Quinn knew she should talk to Dash sooner than later, but she couldn’t bear to leave Rory in such poor spirits. “How about the two of us blow off first period and do a little shopping?” she suggested. “I finally got my first allowance, and I could use a little help picking out some clothes.”

  She had expected Rory to jump at the opportunity, but the girl’s expression barely changed. Quinn had to give her credit for that; like Quinn, it meant her emotions weren’t easily manipulated. She felt how she felt.

  Despite her lack of enthusiasm, Rory finally nodded. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

  The two of them headed out to the shops, each eyeing the other silently. Quinn’s mind wandered as they walked. Who had Rory hurt? How severely? Why did none of her teachers care?

  But Quinn knew that she wasn’t going to get answers any time soon; Rory was far from her usual talkative self. Instead, she focused on helping Quinn pick out clothes. She seemed to have a complete understanding of Quinn’s style based solely on Quinn’s previous publicity; she picked out the exact blacks, leathers, reds, and combat boots that Quinn had always been fond of back in the real world. She even helped Quinn pick out a dress or two that Quinn wouldn’t normally have felt comfortable choosing in front of a child. She supposed if the girl was strong enough to kill someone, she was ready to know about provocative dresses.

  By the time they had finished their shopping, Quinn had made up her mind to go see Dash about Rory before doing anything else. She was probably well into missing her second class of the day, and would undoubtedly be chastised for it by Reese or Savannah—or even both—but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  After thanking Rory for the company and dropping her off at her next class, Quinn ran back to her room, raced through her shower, towel-dried her mess of hair, and threw on the first thing she could find in the shopping bags—a black tank top and a pair of black jeans. Her staple.

  She had to admit, it felt good to be back in the kind of clothes she used to wear.

  She pulled out her cell phone, trying to recall whether she had Dash’s number in it. As she scrubbed through her contacts, she realized she still had almost no numbers in her phone, Dash’s included. Sighing, she weighed her other options. She didn’t know where he lived. She didn’t want to wait until power tech, where curious minds would surround them. Her only remaining option was to go see him at work.

  She hadn’t been to the town hall since the day she’d met Savannah—her first day on the island. She had no desire to speak to Savannah again. But how else would she find him?

  It was worth it, she decided. It was for Rory.

  They were b
oth there when she stepped through the revolving door—both sons. She couldn’t tell if Savannah was in her office; the door was closed, and the blinds were drawn. But there sat Reese in one corner of the room, and Dash in the other. Both staring right at her.

  She stopped at the entrance, glancing from one brother to the other, suddenly finding her situation incredibly amusing.

  Reese was the first to speak. She had a feeling Dash hadn’t had nearly enough time to mull over what to say to her after their last rendezvous.

  “Quinn,” Reese greeted easily. “I see you’ve already put your allowance to good use. On a school day.”

  She grinned sheepishly, glad he wasn’t more upset. “Whose brilliant idea was it to withhold the money for two weeks, and then give it to me on a Tuesday?” she teased. “I blame them.”

  “You’re not wrong. Just don’t do it again. And if you do, keep the twelve-year-old out of it, would you?”

  She blushed. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised he knew she and Rory had been together. They hadn’t exactly been subtle about it.

  “Oh,” he added, “and you look great.”

  She didn’t even try to hide her glow from that compliment; it was the kind of thing Dash would have trouble saying to her, but the kind of thing she still enjoyed hearing, especially when it was being said in front of him.

  “Thanks,” she said, turning to look at Dash. “You hear that?”

  “Yeah,” Dash muttered, annoyed. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

  She appreciated that. He might still feel awkward about the previous day, but at least he was extending some basic courtesies. It made her next question easier to ask.

  “Well, mostly. There was something I wanted to talk to you about. Could we…?” She gestured to the door, hoping this wouldn’t offend Reese. It wasn’t so much about keeping secrets from him as leaving him to do his job. The Rory situation didn’t concern him.