Secrets and Shadows: A 13 to Life Novel

by Shannon Delany

  He nodded grimly. “See you in class.” He slung my backpack over his shoulder as I flew up the stairs.

  I zipped through the hallways, popping my head into each bathroom stall. Empty. Where would someone go to sob their heart out realizing their ex-boyfriend wasn’t coming back and it was their best friend’s fault?

  I’d been so careful, trying to ease her into seeing Pietr and I together—in the open. I’d pushed him away so many times when I’d wanted to pull him close. We’d gone slowly as he built his resistance up and began taming his more canine impulses. There’d been many times I’d scowled at him when he gave me his puppy dog eyes and only recently had I let him drag me into the school’s shadows to kiss me until my lips turned tender.

  I froze outside Belden’s classroom. He’d just turned on the overhead, displaying the day’s bell work. Sitting there, prim, proper, composed, and cool was Sarah. Not curled in a bathroom clutching a toilet and bemoaning the sorry state of her love life. No. Writing down the assignment’s answers. Smiling.

  I stood staring just long enough for her to notice me. She turned her head and gave me a friendly grin. A wave. Stunned, I waved back. Then I noticed who sat on her far side. Macie and Jenny both leaned forward to peek at me. Jenny waved. Her smile was far too pleased for my comfort.

  Back in my own class, I struggled to focus. This was bad.

  * * *

  When Macie surprised me by the water fountain, things got worse. “Macie, I don’t want to start anything with you,” I mumbled.

  “Don’t wet yourself, Jessica,” she said with a sneer.

  Across the hall Pietr pulled himself to his full height and raised an eyebrow at me. I shook my head.

  “Look.” Macie stepped forward, her body language threatening, her voice dropping. “Sarah’s lost it. I don’t know if it was seeing you two in lip-lock that sent her over the edge or what. She was teetering before, but now—nuts. And I’m warning you”—her eyes got big, scared—“things are gonna get real bad around here real fast. Jenny and I thought it would be great if she remembered … thought it would be great if she was her old self.… And she’s definitely remembering, and my time—Jenny’s time—ruling the school is going to end if you don’t help us.”

  “Help you?”

  “Think about it, Jessica. You want us running the big dogs around here, or do you want her back in charge?” She leaned in, her nose pressed to mine and I waved no at Pietr once more. “Because the bitch is back,” she confided before she stomped off.

  When I spotted Sarah in the hallway I knew things wouldn’t be pretty. Except for her. She looked beautiful as an avenging angel with her perfect hair and perfect makeup.

  “Sarah,” I tried. “I’m sorry we hurt you.” I reached out to her, but she smacked my hand away.

  “You should have told me sooner. You should have been honest.” She closed her eyes hard, a tiny crease appearing between her sculpted brows. “I thought we were best friends.”

  “We are,” I insisted.

  “No. Best friends don’t steal each other’s boyfriends.”

  Pietr stepped up. “Jess didn’t steal me away. I chose her.”

  Her eyes lit up when he spoke to her; her expression softened. “Oh, Pietr.” She sighed. “Guys never get it. Relationships aren’t like that. There’s no choosing, unless we choose to let you believe you’ve chosen.”

  “You’re wasting your time here, trying to get her to see reason,” Amy muttered to me.

  “Sarah,” I tried again. “I hope we can still be friends.”

  Amy puffed out an exasperated sigh.

  Sarah’s eyes shot wide open, a crooked smile rolling across her face. “Friends? You hope we can still be…” She rubbed her forehead, the scar at her hairline that her makeup helped hide. She refocused on me, her eyes glittering dangerously.

  “People think I’m insane, do you realize? I’ve seen them stare, heard what they whisper to each other behind their hands in the hallways. The prettiest girl in Junction, all broke down and hanging with the losers. Then Pietr came along and our whole group’s status jumped. Crazy what one guy can do to change so many lives.… But you know what, Jessica? Even if I’d lost my ever-loving mind, I’d never be as crazy as you if you believe—even for a second—I could be friends with you after what you’ve done.”

  “You raging psychopath! Jessie’s the only one who stayed by you when you were this close to death!” Amy snapped, shoving Sarah’s shoulder.

  Sarah’s purse whipped around her back, pencils, pens, and a single book flying. “Bitch!” she shrieked. “Don’t you ever put your grubby hands on me again, trailer trash!”

  Amy charged, but I grabbed her, locked my arms around her and planted my feet, grimacing as Amy fought to break free.

  “Sarah, think about things again,” I urged. “Remember in Ms. Wyatt’s class—the quote you chose last project about life being a chance to grow a soul? I believe that. Remember that. I’m sorry we hurt you—we never meant to. Remember who your friends were after the accident. Who cared for you then?”

  Macie and Jenny flanked Sarah suddenly, sneering so stylishly they could have won a snob-off competition. They looked nervous when I alluded to their abandonment.

  Until Sarah laughed.

  “Did you think I would ever expect them to spoon-feed me Jell-O in the hospital? They’re a different kind of friend—the powerful, beautiful type. Are we bitches? Hell, yes! But I never expected anything more from them. They never disappointed me. But, you…” Tears wobbled at the edges of her eyes. “You made me expect more from people. You made me think there was trust to be had. You lied, Jessica Gillmansen! You lied about everything!”

  Amy no longer pulled against me. Instead, she straightened, a wall to guard me from the seething devil with an angel’s face.

  Tears ruined Sarah’s mascara. “Damn it!” She spun away and scrambled to pick up the contents of her purse while Jenny watched, amused. Macie spared me one pleading glance.

  I flinched, wanting to go to Sarah, to help, but Amy changed her stance once more. She held me back, arms straight out like bars, shaking her head in mute warning.

  In a moment Sarah was on her feet again, forcing her book into her purse.

  Derek came up behind her, Marvin at his side. Derek watched the scene with eyes so dark they threatened to eclipse the blue that normally sparkled like cut sapphires. Beside me, Pietr bristled. The air between us hummed and I felt the growl build in him. I clutched his hand and the air stilled, the electricity between us settling.

  “You’re no friend of mine, Jessica Gillmansen. Don’t think you ever were,” Sarah declared with a hiccup of grief. She whipped away—right into Derek’s open arms. He held her, whispered, and stroked the wispy blond strands of her hair, his eyes rising to meet mine.

  My cheeks flamed, but my eyes fell to the book spine just peeking from Sarah’s purse: The Prince, by Machiavelli.

  I realized, watching them walk away, Sarah and Derek in front, Macie and Marvin trailing behind, with Jenny lost between, that the same brutal alpha and beta struggles that raged in wolf packs were also waged in high school.

  * * *

  Leaving the lunch line with only milk to complement the contents of my brown bag, I noticed Jenny grab Cat’s attention and I wondered if she was also making a plea for our help to bring Sarah down. Cat seemed to have things well in hand and I glanced around the cafeteria, heading for our table.

  Max was deep in conversation (as deep as Max could get) with Amy in a distant corner, out of earshot of the crowd. Try as I had to keep them apart, Amy adored Max. And who was I to stand between them? Time was short, as Pietr so frequently reminded me. Maybe we all needed to live life fiercely.

  And love courageously.

  Pietr stood in line and watched the clock. Catching my scent, he grinned and edged obediently forward with the line.

  I sat and dumped the contents of my bag. Apple. Sandwich. So amazingly nondescript—normal. T
he standard buzz of the cafeteria shifted when I felt a hand rest on my knee and I realized someone crouched in the aisle beside me.

  Derek.

  Everything muted and dulled to background static as Derek filled my vision with his knowing smile. “Hey, Jessica.”

  “Hey.”

  “I enjoyed taking you out Halloween day,” he murmured.

  My body warmed beneath his touch, like sunlight crept through shadow. “I don’t remember any of it,” I admitted, feeling my eyebrows tug together. And then there was a picture in my head, a memory that bubbled up to a spot in my brain where I could grab it. The cafeteria grew hazy.

  “You don’t remember?” he soothed. “That’s too bad—you were enjoying yourself.…”

  I choked, my vision filling with memories of me kissing him, remembering the taste of his mouth, his tongue. Sprawled on his bed, him pushing me down … fingers creeping along my bare stomach …

  I nearly tumbled backward out of my seat, scrambling to get away from his touch—my shame. “I…” My face burned. I sensed more than saw movement in the cafeteria as Cat rushed toward me.

  Derek grabbed my wrist, stopped me from falling, and pulled me close to whisper, “It won’t last with him.” Another image tore into my head: Pietr and Max before the sliding-metal doors in the CIA’s bunker the night they tried to free Mother, bullets ripping into them. I gasped—I convulsed—as each impact rocked their bodies.

  Suddenly before me, her form wavering like a mirage in my fluctuating vision, Cat reached over, laying her palm over Derek’s hand just where he held my arm. Her eyes flashed, and she jerked up so fast she nearly toppled over.

  Derek grinned and pulled back, stepping away to disappear into a group of students as Cat searched the cafeteria.

  My head cradled in my hands, Max’s appearance surprised me. And then there was Pietr. Catherine said something to them—something in Russian.

  Something I wasn’t meant to understand.

  Max grabbed me by the shoulders, bending down to stare into my eyes. “It’s not your fault, Jessie,” he assured me before turning back to Cat. “He’s our wild card?”

  “He saw you that night—probably saw us planning beforehand—” Cat shook her head.

  “The bug was nothing,” Pietr muttered as he sat down heavily beside me and curled me against him, combing at my hair with tentative fingers. “Might as well have been a decoy.”

  “He’s been using Jessie as his eyes…,” Cat murmured, awestruck. “We haven’t given him enough credit.”

  “Shhh,” Pietr warned, his hand pausing over my ear.

  “What?” I looked up, horrified. “What do you mean?”

  “Shhh,” Pietr soothed.

  I pulled out of his grip, turning on him. “Don’t you shush me, Pietr Rusakova—the time for keeping things from me is over,” I hissed. “Are you saying Derek … used—used—me to spy on you?”

  Pietr looked away, his face twisting. “You’re not the only one out of the loop,” he whispered, watching Cat and Max.

  “Why didn’t we realize this before?” Max asked, his eyes on the doors, watchful. His fingers twitched by his hip.

  “We were thinking about the problems they wanted us thinking about. And he’s planted right here—among the rest of a normal student body.”

  “There is less and less normal here,” Max muttered. “We should have cleared this threat sooner, brother.” He looked at Pietr.

  Softly Pietr returned, “Perhaps if you had better defined the threat for me…” He shook his head, holding me tighter. “What would you have me do? Kill him?” he asked, spitting out the last words.

  “He is why we failed. Why we nearly died that night. We need to eliminate the threat.”

  “You tell me how, brother,” Pietr challenged.

  Amy and Sophia stood back, hanging in the aisle, waiting for the fallout to stop. And probably hearing just a little too much. I watched them carefully. Soph and Amy had been my best friends for years. I trusted them. At what point did they need to know more? At what point was giving them too much information for their comfort necessary for their protection? If Derek was a threat to the Rusakovas—to werewolves—and a threat to me, wasn’t he a threat to them, too?

  “Cat,” I demanded. “I want answers. Now.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Cat paced before me in the girls’ bathroom. Sophia blocked the door, allowed to participate because I informed Cat quite clearly she was as screwed up as the rest of us. Cat trusted me and knew I wouldn’t define what screwed up the Rusakovas, although Sophia probably guessed it was cultural.

  Amy made it clear she wasn’t ready to know anything stranger about the Rusakovas and my new, not-so-normal life. She’d chalked up the gunshot wounds from before to getting into a fight over some girl. She was far more willing to accept gangbangers in the tiny town of Junction than wonder about the truth. Maybe Dr. Jones was right: The mind did come up with all sorts of crazy things to protect itself from the weird parts of reality. So I’d let Amy hold on to her blissful ignorance a little longer if I could.

  But Sophia? She and I had some stuff to learn.

  “Derek is a strange mix of things, Jessie. That is why we didn’t suspect.” Cat’s shoes clattered on the tile as she walked. She was struggling as I often did to find the right words. “A remote viewer—he can see locations from a distance, rifle through files, identify faces at covert meetings. But his job is made easier if he has a link to a direct witness.”

  “Like me.”

  “Da.” She shrugged. “He is also a social manipulator. He can encourage certain behaviors and attitudes in people by touching them and implanting his views. It is a trait most commonly found in successful politicians,” she added. “A reason the handshaking tours used to be so very popular with people. But there are moral codes.…”

  “Politicians have moral codes?”

  Cat shot me a glance. “Do you have other questions?”

  Sophia raised her hand. “Are you going to tell her the rest, or save it for a rainy day?”

  “The rest?” Cat asked.

  “He’s capable of shifting energy, pulling and pushing it from place to place. He devours it,” she explained, “gets a jolt—a high.”

  I blurted, “That’s what Harnek meant by the stunt he pulled at Homecoming when he got the crowd all riled up because they thought he was hurt.…”

  “Counselor Harnek?” Cat whispered.

  “Wait. Derek faked that?” Sophia snapped. “Bastard. We lost the game because he was getting high.”

  “He’s like a vampire—but not the bloodsucking type,” I realized.

  Cat spun from one of us to the other. “How do you—how do you know this?” she demanded.

  “Derek and I went out once,” Sophia reluctantly volunteered. “He tried to cut his teeth—so to speak—on me. He pulled so much energy from me, he had to throw some back. It was sloppy—maybe his first try? I think that’s why … I think that’s why I’m like I am—he flipped a switch or something.”

  “This is a lot,” I whispered. “A lot to take in.”

  “Precisely why we avoided telling you,” Cat said hastily. “You are already dealing with so much, Jessie, and it’s such a big world. There is so much you don’t know. So much that is truly frightening if you are”—Cat thought for a while—“only human. Some people do not handle the knowledge well of how wide and deep their world truly is.”

  “You were protecting me, too. By keeping secrets. Why is everyone trying so hard to protect me? If you’d all just frikkin’ tell me what to expect, maybe I could deal with it.” Chewing my lower lip, I faded out a moment, speculating.

  Cat snapped her fingers in front of my face, bringing me back. “Da. You are handling it very well,” she griped.

  “So rattle off the list, Cat,” I pushed. “What’s really out there? I need to know.”

  Cat paused, eyeing Sophia.

  “Soph, you okay if we broaden
the borders of crazy town? A lot?” I asked. “I mean, you thought you were the tour guide, and I drive the bus, but I think Cat may just be mayor.”

  Sophia shrugged. “Go for it.”

  Cat took a breath. “Remote viewers, projectors, telekenetics, social manipulators, breakers, witches, werewolves, vampires”—she air-quoted—“zombies…”

  “Dragons?” I asked.

  “Nyet, though some people should moisturize more frequently to keep from being mistaken as such.”

  “Unicorns?”

  “Nyet.”

  “Selkies, pooka, sirens, dryads, and mermaids?” I dug back into memories of research I’d done as a kid on myths and legends.

  “I guess anything is possible,” Cat admitted.

  “In this context, that phrase is not reassuring.”

  “Ghosts,” Sophie added.

  Cat faced her. “Except that,” she insisted, eyes wide.

  “Ghosts exist,” I assured.

  Cat blinked. “Pravda?”

  “Yeah. You didn’t know about ghosts?” I asked.

  Cat’s face was pinched. “Ghosts are—creepy. They can be anywhere. Like spiders.”

  “Tell me about it.” I sighed, remembering how my mom’s ghost could be watching me almost anytime. “You guys better get to class,” I said, slowly getting to my feet. “I need a minute.”

  “I’ll stay,” Cat suggested.

  I looked into the mirror. There was simply no normal. I glanced at Cat. Having a werewolf babysitting only helped reinforce the fact. “A minute alone,” I specified.

  “I will drop my things off at class and circle around to make sure you are where you need to be,” Cat said.

  A moment later they left me in peace.

  It only took me a couple minutes, standing clutching the sink and focusing on breathing, to adjust to my new, new—how many news was it now?—new normal. Occasional appearances of my mother’s ghost, a werewolf boyfriend, a jock energy vampire ex-boyfriend, psycho ex-best friend, and a world that included zombies (ewww) but no unicorns. Things were starting to royally suck.

  Barely in the hallway, I saw him barrel toward me.