* * * * *
Brian carefully scoured the beach, taking in the gray line of sand. The sea was choppy; dark waves licked the sky, and a colorless sadness swept through his body, tinged with violent streaks of despair. If she’s not here, he wondered, then where can she be? And what in the hell am I going to do?
Brian closed his eyes and thought back to what had just happened in the auditorium; how he’d kept Luther out of his mind. This was the first time since the trial that Luther’d really tried to get in. Though Brian was convinced that the guy had felt him out before. Because, sometimes, when Luther was looking at him, he would feel a strange pressure in his head. But it always stopped, it was never like that day at the trial. Brian had always assumed that Luther wasn’t trying that hard. But this time the guy had really pushed. And Brian had blocked him, had held him at bay. Yes, thought Brian, taking a breath as a wave of comfort swept through him. You did it. You held him off. Maybe Luther isn’t such a threat after all.
Brian sighed and opened his eyes. The police had cleared out. Everyone was gone, but he still wasn’t sure if the beach was safe. He’d had to duck under several strips of yellow caution tape just to get out past the dunes. It’d been stretched across the wooden walkway that cut from the rear of the parking lot and out to the beach. No one had stopped him; it was like a ghost town out here. Brian’s skin prickled with the thought of it all. Goosebumps broke out on the backs of his arms as he pictured the girl they’d found in the water. Abby’s ex-best friend. Who could do such a thing? Who or what? He almost didn’t want to know.
The whole area was blocked off with tape. Caution, caution— the word bled through his mind. Briefly he wondered why they hadn’t done this before. Why they hadn’t roped off the beach after the first girl died. Why didn’t the police take this seriously then, with their flimsy curfew and no officers on patrol? If Brian had to bet, he’d guess Luther was involved, that he hadn’t wanted the murderer found until now. “Or maybe he did it,” whispered Brian, quickly biting his tongue. An image of his mother slid through his mind, and his insides twisted into a knot.
Stop it, thought Brian. You have to forget all of that. Just find Abby, make sure she’s okay. Brian had picked this stretch of beach on purpose, even though it was the one where Gretchen’s body’d been found. Because this was the spot where Abby usually came. Only, he had no idea if she’d be here now. He hadn’t seen her brother at the assembly, not that Jake would have talked to him anyway. But maybe neither of them knew what happened. Maybe Abby was okay.
Brian knew he couldn’t very well show up at her house, not after what happened last time he was there. You won’t find her there anyway. She’s gonna come here. You know she is. The knowledge struck him hard in the chest, and he staggered backward like he’d just been punched. He knew he shouldn’t know this, yet somehow he did. Every cell in his body was screaming it out. He was one hundred percent certain that if he was ever going to see Abby Carson again, it would be here, on this beach where he’d discovered her secret.
Brian felt her before he saw anything. There was a solid tugging in his gut, like the way the tide feels when it pulls you out to sea. He stared at the surf for several seconds before realizing he was looking in the wrong direction.
He turned at the sound of pounding footsteps, and the rush of her breath as it sped through her lungs. You’re losing it, he thought. It’s happening again. You’re gonna end up in the nut house for sure. An image of Luther shot through Brian’s mind with such intensity that for a moment the world was at all the wrong angles. The sea was above, the sky was below, and, somehow, he was staring up at the sand.
“Brian?” It was her. He staggered to his knees, his stomach blasting into his throat. Luckily for him, he kept everything down.
She was so beautiful, even more than before. Her chestnut hair hung below her waist; her skin had a strange, silvery sheen. She’s glowing, he thought. Christ, she looks like a goddess. Then the world inexplicably righted itself. And when it did, she became just a girl again. Lovely still, but just a girl. A stream of tears cut down her cheeks, which were no longer silver, but silky cream. She held her hands out to him.
“Abby?” gasped Brian, and then she was in the sand, falling like water into his arms. For a second Brian thought his heart would stop. A terrible power exuded from her body. He could taste it, that strange metallic scent on her skin. No, he thought. Don’t inhale!
He panted as he pushed himself away from her, propelling his body across the sand. She was squatting now, her eyes filled with confusion. Wait, he thought. What did I just do?
She stood up then and stepped toward the sea, and he immediately regretted everything. Because when she moved all the air was sucked from his lungs, and he still couldn’t take his eyes off her. She felt it too; he saw her blush, her skin changing from cream to rose.
Come on, he thought, what’s the matter with you? He flushed with embarrassment, his scalp scorching red.
Brian struggled to his feet, ignoring the way the sand seemed to list. But he kept his balance; he didn’t fall. You can do this, he thought. Don’t blow it this time.
“Abby,” he said, reaching for her. The smell was gone now. Had it been in his mind? Because now she smelled exactly like apples, crisp and cool on an autumn day. The scent slipped off her body and slid through the air, winding its way into his heart. She moved farther away, and the scent grew weaker. “No,” he moaned, his hand dropping to his side. “Abby?” he croaked. “Are you all right?”
He walked the few steps over to her, unable to shake the feeling that she’d changed somehow. A river of danger oozed from her skin, and still he couldn’t break his gaze. Then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, thankful that she didn’t push him away. Please, he prayed. Please let this be okay. And please let me figure out what to do.
She held herself rigid, palms flat against his chest as if she were getting ready to launch herself off him. Then, with one bitter gasp, she crumpled in his arms, her tears spilling into his shirt.
“Abby, what’s wrong?” whispered Brian. “What happened to you?” Her breath was hot on his throat.
“She tried to send me away,” moaned Abby.
“Who?” said Brian.
“Matilda, my mom. She said there’s someone in London my dad used to know. A hunchback— I saw him in my dream. She tried to get me on a plane, but I stopped her. I don’t know what I did. I just....” Her voice broke.
“You just what?” said Brian. Her skin was silver again.
“I sang,” whispered Abby. “I sang and they stopped. All of them. Every single one of them froze.”
“Abby,” said Brian, releasing her and stepping away. It was an involuntary gesture, but he couldn’t stop himself. Something about her felt wrong.
“You sang and they froze?” he whispered softly. “You sang and they froze. What exactly do you mean?”
“Everyone who heard me.” Abby hiccuped hard. Then she stared at her feet, and wouldn’t look him in the eye. “It was like they all turned into statues or something. Even my mom. I don’t know what I did. God, I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“Abby,” said Brian, pulling her to him again. It was easy to do, the old feeling was back. That quivering burning, blood hot in his chest.
“Jesus,” he whispered, under his breath. But he’d made his decision. After all, what choice did he have? “Abby,” said Brian, taking her hand. “Come on. Let’s go see my dad.”
She was so still he could barely tell she was breathing. But then she collapsed against him and went totally limp.
“Thank you,” she whispered, closing her eyes, her head against his chest. Gently, he wrapped her in his arms and carried her to his car.
Black Waters (Book 1 in the Songstress Trilogy) Page 15